Chapter Text
"Lucy," Nolan says.
They're at his house, still in uniform. It's just them, for now, as Jackson stormed off the moment shift ended.
Confronting his father, Lucy said. Nolan does not envy the man.
Lucy's on the computer– his computer, which she apparently knows the password to, and when did that happen?– looking up social media accounts.
For some reason.
"Lucy."
"I'm telling you, I know what I'm doing..."
"No offense, Luce, but Tim doesn't strike me as the kind of guy to post his life online."
"Not Tim," Lucy says, looking up at him. "His wife."
"Wait, what?
"Jackson–"
"No, Dad, no. I know that voice. That's your placating voice. I don't need to calm down, I need you to answer my question."
Percy sighs, rubbing a hand on his face. "Jackson, this has nothing to do with me–"
"So that's it?" Jackson huffs. "It's not your job so you don't care?"
Percy grits his teeth, frustrated. "That's not what I meant. I know you're upset–"
"Upset? Dad, he looked half dead. Stop beating around the bush!"
Percy slams the folder in his hand onto the desk. "Alright! Alright. You want answers? Ask your questions."
"He mentioned her, once or twice. Always by accident. Always regretted it," Lucy says.
"What's her name?" Nolan asks.
"Isabel. If only we had a last name..." even as she says this, she's scrolling through multiple social media accounts. "Do you think he's Tim Davis?"
Nolan shook his head, stooping down to see the computer screen better. "He doesn't have a Davis face."
"That's true. Is he a Bradford, do you think?"
There's a pause. "You know, I can imagine that."
She clicks the profile: Isabel Bradford. The first image is of a blonde woman– and Tim.
Nolan whistles. Lucy grins. "Tim Bradford."
"You've noticed, surely?"
"Noticed what?" Jackson says, exasperated.
"The Assets. They're all ex-military," Percy answers.
"That's a coincedence," Jackson says. And then, looking hesitant, "Isn't it?"
Percy sighs. "I don't– I was young when it happened. Rarely watched the news. It was all a mess, anyways. So I don't know when it happened, only that it did."
"When what happened?"
"Bases blew up," Percy says simply. "All over the Afghan lands. Small ones, unimportant ones, they said. They pinned it on the Taliban, and no one questioned because usually it was the Taliban. But it wasn't, not this time. This time, it was an American miscalculation that doomed dozens of our soldiers, and–" but here Percy stops, questioning his decision of sharing so much.
"And what, Dad?"
Percy takes a step forward, eyes locked on his son. "Jackson. Whatever I tell you right now, it does not leave this room, understand? Promise me."
Jackson hesitates. Could he keep it from Lucy and Nolan, what he's about to learn?
"Promise me, Jackson."
A pause. Jackson looks up, returning his father's gaze.
"I promise."
"She stopped posting years ago," Lucy says, frustrated. "Beyond a last name, this gives us nothing."
"What do we know about him?" Nolan says.
"Wife's name is Isabel. He was in the military and LAPD. He was your TO's TO. What else?"
Lucy shrugs. She's scrolling through Isabel's instagram page, when she stops at a particular photo.
A wedding photo.
"Nolan," she says, and there's something in her voice that captures his attention at once.
"What is it?"
She clicks the photo, zooming in. There's Tim, the picture of a happy groom. Next to him on one side is Isabel, and on the other side is–
Angela Lopez.
"Did we know they were close?" Nolan asks.
"Not invited to his wedding close, no."
"She could be there for Isabel."
"No," Lucy argues, shaking her head. "She wouldn't stand next to Tim, then."
They look at each other. If Lopez was close to the man, she ought to know better than others what happened.
"She knows something," Lucy says, voicing her thoughts aloud.
"So what are we going to do about it?"
"The US was attempting to create a chemical weapon. I don't know the details, it isn't my job to know. But whatever they did backfired, in each base. Five bases blown to pieces. The end of a risky endevaour."
"But it wasn't the end, or you wouldn't be telling me all this."
Percy smiles, tiredly. "There were few survivors. One of them was hospitalized longer than the others. This one showed some...anomalies."
"Anomalies," Jackson repeats.
"He could have been faking it. We don't know for sure. But there was an accident in the hospital he stayed at, and he was killed. Apparently the US has reasons to believe that these anomalies were a direct result of the chemical explosions. Hence, the Assets. In other words, damage control."
"Wait," Jackson says, eyes widening. "Are you suggesting they got super powers?"
Percy sighs. "Not exactly. But it is possible that their senses are...affected. The weird thing is, the only man who showed these changes did so after great, sudden stress. He had been informed of his mother's death."
"So whatever he could do had to be unlocked."
"In a manner of speaking. And if unlocked by a man driven by PTSD and trauma, uncontrolled, it could lead to trouble the government wouldn't risk. But if unlocked by the government, and used, however forcefully, for their own plans..."
"They get their weapon after all," Jackson finishes, horror dawning on him at the realization.
"And the Assets lose their freedom," Percy admits.
Jackson stares at him before turning around, walking quickly towards the door.
"Jackson," Percy says, and when he's ignored: "Jackson. Son."
"What?" Jackson snaps, turning back to him.
"You promised you wouldn't say anything," Percy reminds him. "This information is not to leave this room."
His son doesn't look at him.
"Jackson," and he's beginning to panic now. "You agreed-"
"I lied, Dad," Jackson says cooly. Silence follows the admission. Percy doesn't know what to say, but his son doesn't give him the chance to figure it out.
Jackson turns his back on his father and walks out of the room.