12. "There you are.” “where else would I be?” with Swift and anyone else (maybe another agent? Maybe Desmond or Leon. Your choice)!
((Thank you for the prompt! Sorry Claire isn’t technically an agent… but I got this TargentClaire AU stuck in my head and something possessed me to write it. I also wanted to see her interact with Swift, a fellow scientist and risk-taker :D))
Title: The Phoenix
Spoilers: For PL3 and slight spoilers for Azran Legacy
Set: An AU set after the explosion at the Institute of Polydimensional Physics. Claire, somehow, survives the experiment, thanks to Targent’s intervention.
Warnings: Claire and Dimitri in Targent’s captivity… Targent threatening people, as they do… Dimitri going on a hunger strike, though not in great detail… Reference to dead characters… and reference to scars after accidents
“Ah— there you are…”
Claire glanced up from the workbench as her supervisor (her warden) strode in to the lab. He was tall— taller than Dimitri— with a shock of blonde hair, and a scar running across his nose and his cheek bones.
That wasn’t what made him intimidating, though. (Claire had plenty of scars herself, since the accident…)
It was the way he looked down on anyone who didn’t agree with Targent’s ‘glorious mission’; how he talked about the Azran civilisation as if they were the masters of the universe…
Wouldn’t the Azran still be here, if that were the case?
“Where else would I be?” Claire responded flatly. She gestured around the lab— far larger, more orderly, and more advanced than what she was used to— but it still felt like a prison.
It was a prison— she must never forget that.
After her ‘rescue’ from the ruins of her old lab at the institute, she had been brought here— to Obsidian Tower, in the Nest.
When Claire had awoken, still heavily bandaged and hooked up to painkillers, her ‘saviours’ had introduced themselves as Targent.
Despite her benumbed state, Claire knew of the agency already (Hershel had warned her in the future)…
Still, she’d nodded along as they explained who they were, how they had saved her, and why they had moved her to their headquarters— to facilitate Claire’s recovery with their cutting-edge technology.
Claire had thanked them and asked if her fiancé, Hershel, was here. (She needed to tell him she was alive!)
He was not, but her colleagues, Bill and Dimitri, were…
Like Claire, Bill had been flown in to the Nest— though, he had been somewhat conscious and he had made a faster recovery than her…
Dimitri had been entirely conscious when the agents had stormed in to the smoking remains of their old lab. He could recall how he was dragged away from Claire’s body, before he was bundled into an airship with Bill.
Whenever Claire questioned this, Targent’s medical staff would dismiss it; perhaps Mr. Allen had hit his head…
Later, when Claire was well enough to speak with Dimitri alone, he had told her the whole story, including how Bill had been in contact with Targent beforehand. Targent had financed the time travel project, as a matter of fact!
(Claire had pretended to be surprised.)
Targent weren’t primarily invested in time travel, but they were obsessed with Azran technology… and the time machine had just so happened to contain an Azran energy source.
While she was stuck in the medical ward, Claire had been given books on the Azran (propaganda) to read. Her requests to call Hershel, her parents or someone outside the Nest had been constantly overlooked.
When she was strong enough to leave her hospital bed, she had been given a dull room next to Dimitri’s. It had felt like an upgrade, if only for the privacy she was granted.
Still, Claire was not allowed to contact Hershel. She kept pleading, but Targent argued they needed to keep her safe. They’d revealed that nine people had died as a result of the institute explosion.
Nine innocent bystanders, dead, because of Claire and her colleagues’ disastrous experiment.
It wasn’t the first time Claire had heard that, but the horror still felt fresh— not helped at all by Targent’s insistence that the authorities were after her, Dimitri and Bill.
Claire needed a distraction while she figured out how to contact Hershel, or how to escape without putting him in danger.
Targent had offered her work in the labs. Claire had accepted.
So, here she was.
“I thought you were with your colleague,” Claire’s supervisor drawled, making his disdain for Dimitri clear.
Claire bit her tongue. As much as she wanted to defend Dimitri, insubordination would not put her in Targent’s good books.
She needed to play the part of a bright, but demure scientist investigating the Azran.
“I did visit Dimitri earlier,” she admitted.
She had taken some bread rolls to his room, but Dimitri was determined to continue with his hunger strike. He looked like a scarecrow, lying across his bed in his baggy blue lab coat.
Claire, too, had taken to wearing a blue coat like the other scientists— if only to protect herself in the labs and to conceal her scars.
Dimitri hadn’t stepped foot in the labs yet.
Apparently, Dimitri didn’t have anyone Targent could threaten on the outside.
The only people he cared about— Claire and Bill (debatably)— were trapped with him, and his life’s work had gone up in flames.
Why should he comply with Targent? Claire wouldn’t— if she didn’t have her family, her friends and Hershel to think about.
Still, Claire hoped Dimitri would concede soon— at least when it came to eating!
Without Dimitri— without a friend she could trust and talk to properly— Claire would go mad in this place.
Neither of them had seen Bill since his ‘promotion’, but maybe that was for the best. Bill had neglected to mention that they were in the pockets of a military organisation!
No wonder he’d been so eager to test the time machine…
(Ten years later, Bill would be dead.)
Dimitri was still under the assumption that Bill had tricked Claire into entering the machine— as if she hadn’t noticed its flaws. Claire hadn’t corrected this assumption because, well…
How would she survive if Dimitri shunned her? How would Claire discuss escape plans with him? If the opportunity arose, if Dimitri wasn’t ready, would Claire have to leave him behind?
(She hadn’t seen Dimtitri, or herself, in the future, but she had found Hershel, with a wedding ring on his finger, and two children in tow. One of them was Luke, Clark and Brendas’ son. The other was a teenage girl, Flora.
Though Claire hadn’t asked for details— she’d had to deter Flora from telling her too much— Hershel had promised her everything would work out in the end.
And he had instructed her to find one Desmond Sycamore…)
Her supervisor’s grunt dragged her back to the present. “You seem distracted.”
For some time, Claire had been staring down at the work bench— at a purple Azran crystal. She glanced up at her supervisor sharply.
“I’m— just worried about Dimitri,” she stammered.
A scoff. “If he wants to stay cooped up in his room, that’s his choice.”
Claire frowned slightly.
Even if Dimitri left his room, like Claire, his freedom wouldn’t extend any further than the upper level of Obsidian Tower.
Claire could solve the puzzle on the lift’s control panel— Targent knew that— but Claire also knew what the punishment would be if she got caught.
She didn’t care what they did to her. She had already risked her life by stepping into the Time Machine, and now, she was paying for it with her servitude to Targent.
While she didn’t mind doing mundane jobs around the lab, sooner or later, her superiors could order her to do something dangerous.
Another violent experiment… A lethal weapon… A legacy that could reshape the world in Targent’s image…
This was why she needed Dimitri’s cooperation.
Maybe, together, when it was dark, they could climb down the Azran pillar…?
“He really is missing out,” Claire sighed wistfully. She picked up the Azran crystal— feigning fascination— inspecting it as she had seen Hershel do with ancient artefacts.
“Spectacular, isn’t it?” Her supervisor peered at the crystal with her.
Claire nodded. “I was wondering— if there might be a way to access the power within this crystal?”
She let remorse bleed into her voice. “Back at our lab, in London, we used all these cables to connect the… the time machine up to the energy source, but the cables weren’t… strong enough…” Her fist clenched around the crystal.
Claire’s supervisor hummed. “I will acquire you some cables— far stronger than the equipment at your pitiful institute, I can assure you.” He smirked.
Claire was about to let out a grateful gasp, but on second thought, that might be a bit much…
“Thank you…” Claire sniffed, instead. “But please don’t talk about the institute like that. It was my first lab and I have a lot fond memories, despite the… accident.”
That part was true. Claire missed their dingy old lab. She missed working with Dimitri and Bill. She missed the street where the institute was based…
She missed Hershel, waiting outside the building to walk her home. She missed curling up on the settee with him in the evenings.
She missed her life.
Claire’s eyes were damp with real tears.
Much to her embarrassment, her supervisor noticed. His smirk softened into an expression of concern.
“There’s no need to be miserable now,” he murmured.
Claire waited for him to proclaim that she was part of Targent… something, something about her joining a noble cause in their search for the Azran Legacy… and she should just forget about her boring old life.
But he was silent for a few moments. Then, he removed his dark sunglasses. Without them, his scar seemed a lot less obvious, because Claire was drawn more to his eyes— one green and one blue.
Of course, Claire had heard of heterochromia, but she had never met anyone with the condition before.
Her supervisor gave her a crooked smile. “As a child, people used to tease me about my eyes… As a young man, I gained this scar…” He scratched his nose.
Claire felt the left half of her body itch; along her face, her arm, and her leg. The side of her that had suffered most from burns after the explosion.
“…and people started to fear me instead,” her supervisor finished.
“Where is that scar from?” Claire whispered. “I-if you don’t mind me asking…”
He took no shame in sharing the story, though his eyes gained a faraway look. “I was involved in an accident years ago— a cave in during an expedition.”
(Hershel had lost his high school friend during an ‘expedition’.)
Perhaps her supervisor— one of her captors— was fishing for sympathy, but
Claire couldn’t help mumbling, “I’m sorry…”
Her supervisor blinked, his eyes hardening. He shook his head. “It’s in the past now. What matters is that I survived, just as you survived.”
Claire found herself agreeing. “Yes…”
“Like a phoenix rising from the ashes,” her supervisor recited.
At that, Claire couldn’t help snorting. “I wish!” How she wished she could sprout wings of fire, soar out of Obsidian Tower, and leave it burning behind her.
“You could be the Phoenix,” her supervisor suggested. “That could be your code name.”
“Hm…” Claire pursed her lips.
She had noticed how many Targent agents were named after birds.
Did Claire really want to have a name in this archaeology-bird-obsessed cult?
“It’s too… grandiose for me,” Claire said carefully.
“I don’t think so,” her supervisor said. “You were the first human test subject of a Time Machine— that’s more experience than most recruits bring to the table.”
Maybe if Claire could enter his circle of trust, then she could find her way out…
Claire stitched on a smile. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Phoenix it is then!” Smiling in return, he put his glasses back on.
“What’s your codename?” Claire wondered, while she still had his consideration.
“Swift.” Small, agile birds— similar to swallows.
“I… didn’t expect that,” Claire said. For him, she’d thought of an eagle or a falcon; something large and intimidating.
Swift offered no further explanation. He turned away from her and strode to the door. “I’ll get you those cables,” he called over his shoulder. “Until then, keep up the good work.”
“Yes, Swi— I mean, sir!” Claire’s gaze returned to the Azran crystal, but her mind was already formulating an escape plan.
She would be the Phoenix, but not under Targent’s command.
Soon, she would break out, bringing Dimitri with her, and they would run. She would get in touch with her loved ones, somehow, and she would warn them.
She might not be able to reunite with Hershel right away, but at least he would be safe, while she tracked down Desmond Sycamore.
Claire was going to survive this.
-
“I’m aware that you are the one who provided Claire Foley with the means of escaping,” Bronev grumbled, glaring at Swift from behind his desk.
“Forgive me, sir,” Swift muttered.
All he had given her was a reinforced cable. She had climbed down the Azran column— Targent’s most sacred artefact— with a cable, and the help of her colleague.
“We managed to capture her colleague,” Swift pointed out, “Dimitri Allen.”
“That does not excuse your glaring oversight, Swift.”
“No, sir.” Swift bowed his head.
He had let his guard down for a new recruit— for a woman who had formerly been a lab assistant!
A scientist who might have travelled through time.
How much had Claire Foley kept hidden from them? Had she recognised Targent from the start? Did she know what would become of their agency in future?
Would they unlock the Azran Legacy? Would Claire Foley stand in their way?
Despite her betrayal, Swift still regarded her as a burning phoenix. A bird who had broken out of her perceived captivity, and left a blazing trail in her wake.
A cunning adversary for Targent. For Swift.
Swift had expected some sort of punishment for his mistake, but instead, Bronev said, “Take a wing of assassins to London. Find Hershel Layton.”
“What then, sir?” Swift said.
Bronev smiled. “Wait for Claire Foley to return home.”
