Hello people, and welcome to His Loving Arms! Insanely Me has written this lovely first prologue, and so I thank her for that.
Summary: When all else fails, Alex knows he can come back to the arms of the one he loves. But what happens when those arms become damaged? What happens when they let him fall?
Warnings: Slash, torture scenes, language, excessive use of Barry Manilow lyrics…
Rating: M
We disclaim anything you recognize. We no own Alex Rider.
Introducing…*drumroll*
Insanely Me's His Loving Arms Chapter 1: Rescue From Hell on Earth
It was easy to infiltrate the enemy's base. Way too easy. He might be new to this, but no one, not even the most incompetent fools, would leave a building (small, and painted a ghastly green) unlocked and unguarded, with a prisoner inside, and no booby-traps. Unless…
"Unless what?" he thought to himself. Had they abandoned the place? Were all the stolen goods gone? All the men dead?
He sat up straighter and shook his head to get rid of the thought, fiddling with his pack as he did so. It wasn't his job to think, it was to follow orders. He was supposed to tune out the grays of the world, and reset his tint to black and white. Let his superiors worry about the colors.
The group leader raised his hand, and then brought it down in a choppy motion. The soldier swallowed, and his hands shook (it was his first major outing after all), but he stood up. He cocked his gun as quietly as he could, and walked around some of his fellow unit members.
One of them, Turtle, if he remembers right, paused amongst the quiet chaos for a moment to place his hand on the new comer's shoulder.
"Good luck." The reptilian nicknamed man mouthed to him, and before he could reply, the man was gone, setting himself up at his own spot.
He scurried to his own designated place as the other soldiers glared at him, and as soon as he was there, they marched towards the open door.
His heart pounded in his chest, and it seemed as if it was trying to climb up his throat. He pushed down his fear, and took in a deep lungful of air.
They walked in (without dying, he was very relieved) and he was immediately hit by the smell.
If it had smelled like bleach and death, he would have been fine. That's what he had been warned of, been trained to expect. But he wasn't expecting Pina Coladas and summer time fragrances that hung around the room.
The color of the walls matched the smell, with a pineapple yellow and a hula dancer wall trim around the top. A seashell lamp sat on a quaint coffee table, and a pile of dusty magazines lay in the floor. The sound of Copacabana by Barry Manilow filled the air.
In fact, if it wasn't for the man in army fatigues weeping on the floor, he would have thought they had been sent the wrong coordinates and were in a civilian's home.
They quickly searched the house, and the soldier was relieved when no one was found.
Ferret, the leader of their unit, motioned them back as he walked up to the man and crouched down.
"Wolf?" he questioned. The man on the floor turned towards Ferret's voice.
He took in the whole unit (all six of them, the largest group in the SAS), and then Wolf was on his feet.
The new soldier jerked back as the imprisoned soldier swung his fist and clipped him in the nose.
The rest of his unit sprung into motion, like a well-oiled machine, and in moments of the sudden attack, Wolf was lying in the floor, unconscious and being strapped into a fold out stretcher.
He wiped at his nose gingerly, pulling his fingers back and checking for blood. Luckily, it wasn't bleeding, but it was throbbing.
Turtle walked over to him and handed him an ice-pack, nodding when the other soldier thanked him.
"Wha-" the soldier started, but the older man cut him off.
"Most likely PTSD. He's been imprisoned for what, two, three months? He was probably brainwashed." Turtle told him, nonchalantly, as if things like this happened every day.
"Probably did happen every day." he thought to himself as two of his fellow soldiers lifted the Wolf fellow up, and the seven of them filed out of the door, noticeably louder than when they had gone in.
As they left the deserted green house and got into their military issued jeep, with his nose still hurting and the man Wolf still worrying his mind, the young soldier couldn't get the song out of his head.
Her name was Lola
She was a showgirl
But that was thirty years ago when they used to have a show…
-XD-
Insanely Me AN: Hope you enjoyed!
Tigertopaz- Titanium Banana AN: Sigh…poor Wolf. Eh, well, maybe we'll see what the outcome is next chapter…
Please Review! A minute of your time for lots of ours!
Insanely Me and Tigertopaz- Titanium Banana