HARVARD UNIVERSITY, BOSTON

"We have Field Office SWAT units alongside field agents ready to go in Texas, Alabama, Nebraska and Wisconsin." Broyles was laying out the situation as Olivia was checking her SIG and body armour. "We're picking up New Hampshire site. Captain Baker and the Hostage Rescue Team will be providing tactical support and surveillance." Baker was staring wide-eyed at the contents of Walter's lab. Peter was sat on a desk trying to figure out how to put his body armour on. Astrid and Walter were nowhere to be seen.
"Captain Baker!" Broyles clicked his fingers and Baker shifted his attention from Gene to Broyles.
"Sir!"
"Would you like to brief Special Agent Dunham and Mr Bishop?"
Baker coughed.
"Certainly Sir. We've arranged high-altitude photo reconnaisance from the 104th Fighter Wing, Massachusetts Air National Guard and they identified this area..." He pointed to an open area on a photograph. "...as being a likely field test site. It's a long way from anywhere, a four hour hike in and four hours out and we'll have to carry our equipment in."
Olivia holstered her gun.
"Sir," she directed her comments at Broyles. "Has Captain Baker and the other teams been briefed about the...complications?"
Baker answered on Broyles behalf.
"Special Agent Dunham, we know we need to avoid walking on the grass..."
Peter smiled at the joke.
"The other teams," began Broyles, "...will be holding off and waiting on the success of your arrests. They are all aware of the special circumstances of this case."
At that point, Walter and Astrid came back in the room. Walter was carrying a box with him and Astrid was carrying another, larger box. Walter was smiling to himself until he saw Peter trying to put on the body armour. His face dropped.
"Peter, what are you doing?"
Peter looked up.
"What does it look like, Walter? I'm trying to figure out Rubic's Kevlar."
"You're not going out there...are you?" Walter looked like he might cry, so Peter stood up and put a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't worry Walter, I'll be a long way behind everyone else."
"We need him, Walter", it was Olivia. "I need someone with me who knows what we're dealing with. I'll keep him safe."

Peter and Olivia exchanged a glance and Walter saw it, and his mood brightened a bit.
"Well, if you're insistent on going, then I have something for you that may help." Walter opened the box he was carrying. He took out a small vial of fluid. "This will mask your pheromonic signature, if the plants release the chemicals, you can inject this and it will offer you some protection."
"Some?" Peter raised an eyebrow.
"You'll need to use bodysuits - the kind that the CDC use when dealing with pathogens. There are 40 suits in the box Astrid has." Astrid handed the box to Baker, who tucked it under a meaty forearm. Walter continued. "You'll have around a minute to get the suit on and inject yourself with the liquid. Do not delay!"
Olivia eyed the liquid carefully.
"How does it work?"
Walter spoke slowly and deliberately.
"It masks your human pheromones with a different set of chemical indicators. Different enough, I hope, so that any affected wildlife will not perceive you as human, and won't attack you."
"You Hope...?" Began Peter, finally getting his body armour on.
"I haven't really had time to test it..." Walter protested.
"That's great, just great." Peter sounded exaspirated.

Olivia stood up.
"What does it mask us with, Walter?"
"Well, my dear, I didn't have much time, and there are a limited number of suitable donors..."
"Oh God..." Peter realised as he saw the direction Walter was gazing. "It's Gene isn't it?"

Walter smiled nervously. Baker looked confused.
"I don't understand."

Peter smiled and slapped him on the shoulder.
"Captain Baker, the second you inject the liquid, to every cold-blooded living thing in Pisgah State Park, you'll be a 650 lb Friesian Cow."

PISGAH STATE PARK, NEW HAMPSHIRE

The Hostage Rescue Team, Broyles, Olivia and Peter congregated in the main car park after dark. They had driven the last three miles with lights off to avoid alerting anyone that they were coming, and had dismounted from the three unmarked vans silently. Once they were clear of the vehicles, Captain Baker gathered them close and began the final briefing. As this was a tactical operation, he had practical command of the operation.

"All right, listen up. Our aim is to arrive at the perimeter of the field site around an hour before sunrise. According to Special Agent Dunham here, the site is being guarded by US Marine Corps officers, and possibly Army Rangers. We must assume that the perimeter is tripped and that there is likely to be surveillance. Be careful where you tread and expect to meet resistance. Our goal today is to prevent the drug crop in the clearing being harvested or damaged, accidentally or deliberately. I hope to do that without casualties if we can, but our over-riding priority is to secure the site without damage. Each of you has a hypodermic syringe and a full body suit. Mr Bishop here..." He put a hand on Peter's shoulder, and Peter raised an arm. "...has a gizmo that measures and tests the air for changes in composition. If you hear him give the instruction, inject yourselves and put on your suits. If you don't do so, you're liable to have a pretty lousy morning." A young HRT officer raised his hand. Baker looked annoyed. "What the hell is it, Mendes?"
"Sir, what the hell is going on up there - chemical weapons?"
Baker smiled.
"Son, if I told you, you'd never believe me. OK any more questions?" There were none. "Good, then let's get going."

The HRT Officers started up the mountain with Olivia and Broyles in front. Baker put his hand on Peter's shoulders and steered him to one of the vans, out of site of Olivia and Broyles. He spoke quietly.
"Bishop, I've led these kids for five years, and I'm not going to lead them up a mountain to die because your dad got stoned and filled these syringes with Dr Pepper."

Peter looked Baker in the eye.
"I'm here, aren't I? Walter might be flaky, and by flaky, I mean insane, but this stuff...this stuff we're dealing with, the stuff that makes your head spin, there's no-one on the planet you want on your side more than Walter Bishop."
Satisfied, Baker reached into the back of the van and handed Peter a pump-action shotgun and a box of rounds.
"Fair enough Mr Bishop. You know why I had to ask." Peter nodded and Baker continued. "Good. You know I meant no disrespect. And no-one goes on an operation like this under my watch unarmed, I don't care what Agent Dunham says. You know how to use one of these?" Peter loaded the shotgun and chambered the first round. Baker smiled. "Good, try not to shoot anyone and if you have to, make sure it's not one of us. Lets go."

* * * * *

The group stopped about half a mile from the clearing. Behind them, through the pines, the blackness of the night sky was etched with the first inky blue in the sky as the dawn approached in the eastern heavens. Peter, who had managed to keep up with the FBI agents at the cost of seriously burning lungs and sore calves and shins, plonked himself down in the leaf litter besides Olivia. She looked at him and the shotgun he was using to support himself with.
"Where the hell did you get that?"
"Baker gave it to me." He looked at her angry face. "Why does it bother you?"
"Because, Peter, if you have a gun, you're more likely to get shot at and I don't want people shooting at you."
Peter smiled.
"That's nice, Olivia, but people are going to be shooting at me anyway."
Baker hushed them both.
"I gave him the gun Agent Dunham, because no-one comes on an operation with me unarmed. No exceptions."

Olivia glared at him but didn't say anything else. Baker continued to the group.
"From this point on, we go in silent. No-one talks to anyone, except Peter, and only if that thingy he has shows the air chemistry changing. Watch for tripwires, watch for pyrotechnics and let's try to get in there un-noticed."

* * * * *

In the clearing, Bews was commanding his men as they dismantled the camp. The scientists were gone, sent ahead with their equipment and all that was left was being packed into three Jeeps by the six remaining Army Rangers. Their attention focussed elsewhere, they didn't notice the HRT group approach until they were on the edge of the clearing, when one of them tripped a pyrotechnic tripwire and a roman candle went off scattering Bews and the Rangers, guns in hands, for the cover of their vehicles. There was a voice, loud and clear in the still night air that came from the edge of the clearing. It was Broyles.
"General Bews, this is the FBI. Order your men to put down their weapons and surrender."
Ruskin, a tall, sandy-haired Ranger clutched his AR-15 and looked at Bews, cowering next to him behind a truck.
"Sir, Feds. What do we do?"
Bews looked at the soldier, fury dancing in his eyes. They had ruined this, the best chance they had of ending the war on drugs with a single, devastating blow. They had removed the one chance they had of wiping out most of the world's terrorism funding. This was going to be his crowning glory, his greatest victory, and instead of the glory, here he was, hiding behind his own jeep like a shoplifter. No, it wasn't going to end this way.
"What do you think? Open fire!"
Ruskin looked at Bews in astonishment.
"You're kidding! I'm not shooting at the FBI. I'm a soldier! What the hell are they doing here anyway - this is supposed be a sanctioned operation."
Bews took out his Beretta and shot Ruskin twice in the chest. The gunfire rattled around the mountainside and for a second all was quiet, before the pre-dawn stillness was shattered by the combined gunfire of the FBI and the remaining Army Rangers, each convinced that the other side had started first. Bews saw his opportunity and ran, Ruskin's pained eyes following him with every step he took as he moved carefully into the field of head-high opium poppies.

* * * * *

The first that Peter knew he'd been shot was when he realised he was lying on his back, the backpack he was carrying crushed behind him. He felt no pain, which he imagined was odd. Peter had never been shot, so he had no frame of reference, but he did imagine it would hurt worse than this. He heaved himself onto his knees and took cover behind a pine tree trunk and checked himself. He felt no pain, so he took off the backpack and examined it. There was a great ragged hole in the side of it, with a larger exit hole through the back of the pack.
"That's lucky" he thought, under his breath. He pulled out the protective suit and saw the jagged tear across the leg and arm and groaned to himself. Next he searched for the plastic case with the hypodermic and Walter's pheromone masking agent. It was intact and he sighed with relief. The sun began to creep over the top of the mountain, bathing them in the first light of the morning and he pulled himself close to a tree trunk, slipping the syringe into his pocket and throwing the now useless pack away. He peeked around the tree, looking to see if he could spot Olivia, but he was forced to retreat when a bullet whistled over his head.

He took another look, just in time to see one of the Rangers, who had moved out of cover, shot and collapse on the edge of the field of poppies. Had he damaged any of the plants?

Panicked, he checked the air chemistry detector, only to find that it had been smashed when he had fallen to the ground. Now was no time for taking chances.
"Take the masking agent!" he yelled into his radio. "Put your suits on!"

* * * * * * * *

Olivia, hearing Peter's voice, closed her eyes in a silent prayer of gratitude, then stuck the syringe in the fleshy part of her thigh and injected the agent. She then removed her suit from the backpack and put the respirator over her head. She then picked up her SIG and began to move into the clearing. The Rangers, realising they were outgunned and with no real taste for shooting at their own, had put their guns down and were lying on the ground. She noticed other body -suited figures in FBI body armour moving in for the tree line. One of the Rangers shouted out that they had an injured man down. Olivia moved towards the sound of the voice and saw one of the Rangers tending Ruskin.
"He's been shot. Small calibre. He says Bews did it."
Olivia looked at him and shouted the HRT medic over. Ruskin gripped her suit.
"He went into the Poppy field."

Olivia nodded. She turned to the HRT Medic.
"Get this man out of here now. Get everyone out of here now."
"What are you doing?" The HRT medic didn't get an answer, as Olivia was already gone.

* * * * *

Peter had stuck himself with the hypodermic, but Walter's words about the serum being untested rang in his ears. In their suits anyone could be Olivia, so he went from HRT agent to HRT agent looking for her. They were keen to get the hell out of there and he moved between them eliminating each as Olivia until he got to the HRT Medic.
"Where's Dunham?"
The HRT Medic pointed towards the Poppy Field and Peter's face fell.
"That's just marvellous. Where's she going?"
"She went after Bews."

Broyles arrived.
"Peter, where's your suit?"
"Useless. You have to get everybody out of here, Broyles." Broyles looked at him through the respirator on his suit.
"Where are you going, Peter?"
"After Olivia".

Broyles got up of his haunches.
"Not a chance." Peter didn't have the time or inclination to argue.
"Broyles, she'd do the same for me, it's what partners do. Just get these people to a safe place. Please." Broyles looked at him for a second and barked the order. Before they left, he turned to Peter.
"Find her, Peter. Get yourselves back safely."
Peter nodded solemnly and moved quickly and carefully into the Poppy field.

* * * * * *

Olivia couldn't see anything. The poppies were head-high and the respirator she was wearing eliminated her peripheral vision, so she was pleased to see the plants begin to thin out as she reached the other end of the field. What she didn't see, as she emerged into the open, was Bews appear a split second behind her, raise the butt of his gun and bring it crashing down on the back of her neck.

* * * * *

Peter emerged from the Poppy field and looked anxiously around. There was no sign of Olivia. He moved into the trees beyond the edge of the clearing but a snap of twigs made him stop and turn round. Bews was stood, framed against the purple poppy flowers. He held Olivia tightly, his Beretta placed against her temple.
"Put your gun down."
Peter trained the shotgun on Bews.
"Put her down Bews, or I'll cut you in half."
Bews laughed.
"I don't think so. You've picked the wrong tool for the job. Shoot me, and you'll kill us both. Is that what you want? Put the gun down, and only you have to die." Olivia shook her head wildly and was shouting something at him, but the sound was muffled from behind the respirator.
Peter knew the second he put the shotgun down he was dead. He also knew that Bews was right, he couldn't get a round off without injuring Olivia. He knew his choice had been made. He smiled slightly to himself.
"I thought I'd get stung or bitten to death coming up here, so I guess you've got to appreciate the irony."

Then it struck him. Where were the bees? The wasps, the snakes and scorpions? Perhaps the shot Ranger hadn't fallen onto the poppy field as he had assumed. It was at that point he realised that there was a third choice open to him. He smiled. He chambered a round. Bews smiled.
"You're not that lucky."
"Luck?" Peter's voice was steady. "Not luck, just a decent grasp of science."

He then unloaded the shotgun into the field of Poppies, watching as the flowers exploded and stringy fragments of leaf and stem flew into the air. Bews looked aghast.
"Do you know what you've done? You've killed us all!"

He dropped Olivia and began firing wildly in Peter's direction as he moved to the edge of the clearing. None of the rounds went close to him, and Peter moved towards Olivia, picking her up and cradling her in his arms.
"Liv, are you OK?" She nodded her head and began to take off the respirator. Peter stopped her. "What are you doing? We need to get out of here." In the air there was a faint buzzing noise somewhere behind them, and they heard Bews scream once, then again, then silence.
He helped Olivia to her feet and as they began to move off, Peter felt a pinprick on his ankle. At his feet, a small, brown snake, tail angrily rattling was coiled, ready to strike again. He deftly dodged as it moved to strike again and they moved off quickly, Olivia recovering her gun from the ground.
"Unless that's a well disguised can of Raid," Peter began, "…you might want to concentrate on moving rather than shooting."

* * * * * * * *

Their pace dropped after half an hour or so. They hadn't noticed any unusual insect activity for the previous ten minutes or so, so Olivia took her suit off. Her hair was matted against her head and there was a large and ugly bruise forming where Bews had struck her, but otherwise she was OK. She looked at Peter, who had begun to sweat.
"Are you OK?"
He smiled, but it wasn't convincing.
"I was bitten. Prairie rattlesnake I think. In the ankle."

Olivia looked at him in horror.
"Peter!"

He shrugged.
"What was I going to do? I don't have the antivenom, and I wasn't going to sit there. I've got another 2 hours before I go into shock." He said it matter of factly. Olivia examined his ankle which had already started to swell. She looked up at him, tears in her eyes.
"We won't be back to the bottom of the mountain before then."

Peter laughed.
"Hey, look on the bright side, at least I wasn't eaten by turtles!"
"No!" Olivia blinked the tears away. "Not you. I won't let it happen."
"Liv, Honey, there's not much either of us can do about it."
She ignored him and got up, looking at the map, she then started running.
"Liv!" Peter called after her. "Olivia!"
After about five minutes she returned and dragged him off through the trees. after a couple of minutes, they came to a clearing in the trees with a ruined hunters lodge in the centre.
"You wait here." Olivia put Peter down on the ruined porch of the tatty wooden building.
"Where are you going?"
"To get you some help". Peter looked at Olivia sadly.
"Liv, it's two hours down the mountain and two hours back. I don't have that kind of time." Olivia held his head in her hands.
"I'm not going to lose you Peter Bishop. I won't. I can't. Just hold on for as long as you can."

He looked into her pained, tear-filled eyes.
"Olivia, I...I"
"Save it. You can tell me later." With that she was gone, sprinting for the woods as Peter watched her go. Once she was gone, and he knew she was gone, Peter put his hands over his face and began to cry.

* * * * * *

He didn't know what time it was, or where he was. He was vaguely aware of the wind on his face, a face that was wet with perspiration and creased with the agonising pain he felt in his leg. Everything was white, and he couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed. Somewhere, a long way away, he could hear talking, shouting but it sounded faint and muffled. An image formed somehow. He wasn't sure how, but he could just make out a man in black combat fatigues, shouting at him. He couldn't answer. Behind the man was someone with a desperate expression and long, blonde flowing hair. She gripped his hand but he couldn't feel. There was a prick in his arm, it was a sting that barely penetrated the wall of pain he felt, then the whiteness returned and he embraced its warmth and comfort.

MEMORIAL HOSPITAL, CONCORD, NEW HAMPSHIRE

Peter slowly dragged himself into consciousness. His head felt woolly and he ached pretty much all over. He noticed it was dark in the room, and he tried to sit up, but something was stopping him. There were tubes running out of his arm. He felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Son, you're awake!"

Walter leaned over and kissed Peter's head. Peter, even through his medically induced haze could see that Walter had been crying.
"Walter..."

Peter's voice sounded weak and croaky, even to himself.
"Don't get up son. You've been bitten by a rattlesnake. You were unconscious when they found you." Walter looked at the floor. "I thought you were going to die."

Peter grasped Walter's hand.
"But I didn't Walter. Thanks to your potion."

Walter looked up.
"But it didn't work did it? You were bitten!"

Peter tried to smile, but it wasn't very successful.
"Yeah, but I'm still here. That's more than can be said for anyone else exposed to this thing."

Walter smiled at him.
"I brought you pudding!" He placed an empty pudding cup on the tray over Peter's bed.
"It's empty, Walter."
"Yes, well, you were unconscious for 17 hours and when I'm anxious, I eat a lot of pudding, so it's really your own fault!"

Despite himself, Peter laughed.
"I guess so." As he spoke, Astrid walked into his room.
"Peter, you're OK!" She hugged him fiercely and Peter winced. "Ooops. Sorry!" Peter smiled.
"I'm pleased to see you too Astrid. Listen, can you take Walter to find some more pudding..." He saw Olivia hovering by the door, hair down and looking more beautiful than he'd ever seen her. Her face was a mix of joy and pain. Astrid smiled and hugged him again. As she did so, she whispered in his ear.
"She made it down the mountain in an hour and five minutes and collapsed when she got to the HRT Agents. They flew you out and gave you the first dose of antivenom. She saved your life." Astrid surrendered her grip and smiled at Peter who smiled back. "Come on Walter, let's find you something to eat - we'll come back in a little while.
With the room to themselves, Olivia came and sat next to Peter's bed, taking his hand in hers.
"How are you feeling?"
"Like someone dropped me from a third floor balcony. But I'm alive, thanks to you. Bews?"
Olivia looked away.
"Dead. The Army rangers we shot both made it, thankfully. The other sites were taken without loss of life."
"What about the drugs?"
"Bombed from the air with Napalm. The fires are being put out by aerial bombardment. No-one in the DoD will admit to anything, they claim Bews had gone rogue."
Peter laughed bitterly.
"Of course they do." His expression lightened. "Anyway, at least I live to fight another day."
Olivia smiled.
"Yeah Bishop, you owe me!"

Peter raised an eyebrow and grinned.
"How can I repay you, baring in mind my delicate medical state?"
Olivia leaned over and whispered in his ear.
"Oh, I can think of one way..."

OZARK MOUNTAINS, ARKANSAS

Ella ran ahead of Olivia as they moved up the trail. She was chasing a butterfly that bobbed and weaved through the air and evaded Ella's net with contemptuous ease. Olivia laughed as she watched her niece dance after the insect. The air was still warm even though it was well into September, and they were close to the campsite where they'd spend the night, sat round the campfire, toasting marshmallows and telling PG-rated ghost stories.
"Aunt Liv we're here!" Ella called as they walked onto the campsite. It was empty, too early for the hunters and too late for the summer vacationers. It was perfect. It felt like they had the whole mountain to themselves.
Tents up, fire made and marshmallows toasting on sticks, they sat round the fire, Ella nestled in Olivia's arms, wrapped warmly in a blanket. Rachel would be enjoying her spa weekend, sat in a mud bath drinking tequila and watching Football. Olivia didn't begrudge her sister a little alone time - she'd earned it, and it gave her time to spend with Ella, which she always treasured.
"Aunt Liv?"
"What is it poppet?"
"I think it's time for a ghost story, don't you?" Olivia nodded solemnly.
"I agree."
Ella smiled and turned her head.
"Uncle Peter. You go first."
Peter looked sagely at the sun setting behind the peaks to the west, casting long shadows across the deserted camping ground.
"A ghost story, eh? Something to frighten my two favourite girls...let's see. Yes, I think this might do the trick..."