This is a spin off from my multichaptered fic Callsign Hotel Echo Lima Lima and I have decided to expand it into a series of one-shots about Steve and Axel's five year intermittent relationship. I hope you enjoy this first one.
Like all good detectives, we must return to the scene of the crime
SteveAxel
I forget about the consequences
for a minute there I lose my senses.
- Nobody's Perfect, Jessie J.
.
It was warm in London much to his surprise and he felt as though he was sweating in his uniform even sitting in the waiting room with windows flung open wide. It was cooler indoors than out at least and he was enjoying the cool feel of the leather chair he was perched in. He was the only person around it seemed apart from the pretty clerk on the desk who was eyeing him suggestively, a look that would have a usually spark his interest but for the moment he was too occupied. He wanted to know exactly what he was doing here. When his Commanding Officer had told him that his presence was requested in London he had been more than baffled but here he was sweating in anticipation as well as heat in his full number ones.
"Lieutenant," said a female voice causing him to look up, "they'll see you now."
The pretty clerk walked away her hips swinging tantalizingly along with her bouncy strawberry-blonde curls but he didn't really notice as his mind was entirely focused on what was about to come. As a Navy SEAL for the United States he found being summoned to England extremely odd, for lack of a better word. He couldn't help feeling slightly apprehensive about it which seemed ridiculous because it was nowhere near as dangerous as performing snatch-and-grabs in Iraq and he wasn't normally overly worried about those. Some could say he enjoyed them.
Despite his misgivings he got to his feet, tucking his hat under his left arm. Orders were orders after all, and he made his way down the corridor to the room the pretty clerk was indicating. As he passed her the clerk batted her eyelashes and mouthed a silent "good luck" which he caught out of the corner of his eye. Then he was in a very posh office, which consisted mostly of walnut, in front of two men, one of whom he recognised on sight although they had never been introduced.
"Lieutenant McGarrett," the one he knew spoke as both of the men got to their feet, "please have a seat."
He wanted to argue that he would rather stand but had found himself sitting down before he could formulate his reply.
"Are you aware of who I am, Lieutenant?" he was asked once he was seated.
"Head of Naval Intelligence for the United States, sir," he replied with a nod of respect but at the same time wondering why the hell the head of Naval Intelligence wanted him and what the hell he was going here in England.
"You are probably wondering why you are here, Lieutenant," the other man in the room addressed him.
Steve turned sharply to look at him startled by the English pronunciation of Lieutenant, Left-tenant. The man in question was probably ages with the Head of U.S. Naval Intelligence, whose real name was Isaac Meyers he recollected, but had an English accent and also seemed to have an air of authority over Meyers. He was sitting in front of a large window and the glare from the sun made it difficult for Steve to get a proper look at him which gave him an air of mystery that he was unfamiliar with.
"You applied for a transfer to Naval Intelligence," Meyers said retaking Steve's attention and he could hear the question in the statement.
"I did," he agreed shortly now thoroughly confused by the presence of the Englishman.
"We would like to give you the chance to, ah, test the waters as it happens," Meyers continued delicately glancing briefly at the Englishman. "You wouldn't officially be moving over to the Intelligence sector just yet but you have proven yourself an excellent SEAL with keen attention to detail and an expert planner. The United States Navy and the British Government have a close working relationship on several issues and your experience and skills would be a great asset to us. Do you accept?"
At the word asset Steve's eyes snapped back to the nameless Englishman in the chair. He was trying to figure out who he could be. He was an impressive figure, there was no doubt with a somewhat stern air. At first, Steve thought he was Meyers' counterpart as Head of British Naval Intelligence but Meyers had indicated the British Government, not a mention of the Navy which made it unlikely. He could be a Chief in the British Military or even a politician but Steve really couldn't tell, which surprised him, he was normally quite good at figuring people out.
"I accept," he told Meyers not really certain exactly what he was accepting. He wanted to move into Intelligence which might involve a promotion and a series of challenging tests. If he could prove himself by some other means then he would take the opportunity.
"Good," Meyers said with a smile that he turned to share with the other man. "Obviously, this is all a strictly classified gig, may I introduce you to C, he is the Head of the British Secret Intelligence Service, also referred to as MI6."
Whatever he had been expecting Steve certainly hadn't been expecting that.
"Just C?" he asked in surprise.
"Just C," the Englishman confirmed in a grave voice. "Now, Lieutenant McGarrett, I have been hearing a lot of praise of you and I certainly hope that you can be of assistance. There is a rather delicate matter with which I have been forced to turn my attention to and as it is also of the interest to the United States my natural instinct was to call in Meyers."
Something didn't quite make sense about this arrangement to Steve. He could tell that there was no strain in the relationship between C and Meyers, as far as he could tell it mirrored his own easy relationship with his unit commander, which indicated that the two of them had a long-standing relationship.
"Why Naval Intelligence?" he asked C, his curiosity getting the better of them. "As an Intelligence Agency shouldn't you be collaborating with the C.I.A on this kind of thing?"
The look exchanged between C and Meyers wasn't something Steve could decipher and for the first time he felt a little out of depth.
"Shall we walk?" C asked glancing between Meyers and Steve for their assent which they both immediately gave. Steve got the sense that C was not a man to be refused.
The three men rose together and Steve followed them from the room. They didn't speak as they walked down the deserted hallway and the only sound to be heard was the clicking of their shoes on the polished floor. At the end of the corridor C opened a door and Steve was surprised to see an elevator behind it. He was even more surprised when they all got in and there were no buttons. Instead, where the buttons should have been, there was a slot for a key and a laser print scanner. C took a bunch of keys from his pocket and interested on into the slot turning it 90 degrees to the right before turning it back 180 degrees.
"Fingerprint identification," an automated female voice announced from a speaker as the doors closed.
C slapped his right hand on the laser scanning pad and it immediately scanned his palm before flashing green to indicate that his prints had been accepted.
"Voice identification," the automated voice said again.
"James Corby."
In the brief moment of quiet that followed Steve wondered if the C stood for Corby before,
"Voice identification accepted. Welcome home, Chief."
It clicked in Steve's head just then that C stood for Chief and not for Corby at all but he was slightly surprised by the welcome home part. Did C live in this building? He didn't bother to ask as the elevator proceeded to move down and they stood together in silence, Steve adjusting his grip on his cap slightly.
The lift came to a stop with a ding and the doors opened. On the other side of the doors a man was waiting in a corridor for them. Steve estimated that he was probably of a similar age to himself but other than that there could be no other similarities. He was shorter than him with unkempt sandy hair and dark brown eyes. He was one the slender side and dressed in smart black trousers with an open necked white shirt which had the sleeves rolled up. He was also clutching a clipboard.
"Good afternoon, Chief," he greeted C briskly before he looked at Meyers. "Welcome back, Rear Admiral Meyers."
He inclined his head to Steve.
"Lieutenant McGarrett," C performed the introductions, "this is Fredrickson, he runs this facility. I do not need to tell you, Lieutenant, that this is completely classified."
"No, sir," Steve responded promptly trying in vain not to gaze around in awe. The facility was staggering from what he could see. They were standing in a long, white corridor which had windows on both sides running along the entire length of it. The windows looked into big rooms and the one they were currently standing in front of, labelled station one, had a pool in it that had jets of water shooting at some force out of one end. Steve could see a man swimming against the force of the water wearing a wet suit. Steve had actually been in a resistance pool before and he knew only too well that the endurance needed was high. He couldn't see into the other rooms from his position and he didn't want to seem foolish by craning his neck, so he turned his attention back to where C and Meyers were listening to the update that Fredrickson was giving them.
"Alpha is on leave," he was saying referring to his clipboard, "Bravo is in station six with Kilo and Oscar, Charlie is OO, Delta is in station three alongside Golf, Foxtrot and Mike are getting set up for AT in Scotland, Hotel is still in Germany, Indigo and Juliet are both on leave, Polo is in station one, Quebec is OO with Romeo, Tango is in with Dukes for debrief, Uniform is in station nine and Whisky will be arriving back within the next hour, sir."
Steve felt like he should be staring open mouthed at Fredrickson. Everything he had said sounding immensely complicated but he managed to understand that every agent was coded by the phonetic alphabet which meant that the man in the resistance pool was referred to as Polo. Steve didn't think he had heard of anything stranger.
"Is everything prepared for Lima's funeral?" C asked Fredrickson.
"Of course, Chief," Fredrickson assured him.
"You lost Lima, did you?" Meyers's interest was piqued by this revelation. "How?"
Steve wasn't sure if he needed to hear exactly how one of the phonetically coded agents had died.
"A car crash," C responded shortly obviously not willing to share details. "Shall we?"
C followed Fredrickson up the corridor inviting Meyers and Steve to accompany them.
"Lieutenant, you have been assigned a partner from amongst the agents here under my command," C informed him shortly, "since this is a joint venture on behalf of both us and the American Navy. I would like to point out right now that the phonetic coding is not any indication of skill, merely a code."
Steve nodded in understanding as they paused outside of station three which seemed to be a firing range. There were two male agents in the room firing at targets set way back.
"Lieutenant," Fredrickson addressed him, "you are heading to Deli, India to pick up a chemical weapons specialist codenamed Venus who has valuable information but we also require you to take out one Fazul Ahmed Abdullah, who is heading up a major arms ring that sells through to al-Qaeda in Pakistan. His removal will ensure the safety of Venus and also provide a big enough gap in leadership for the Indian military to deal with the rest of the ring. Of course, this is highly classified, you cannot be caught and you can certainly reveal yourself to any of the authorities. We cannot be seen to be doing the Indian Government's job. Do you understand?"
Steve nodded stiffly under the onslaught of information. C and Meyers were also both watching him expectantly as Fredrickson imparted the knowledge.
"You will, of course, be fully briefed before heading out."
"Of course," Steve repeated unsure of exactly what to say. He was a Navy SEAL, he'd been put in all kinds of situations but this seemed rather surreal. He was wandering around a top secret facility looking in on spies and assassins whilst they practiced in the company of the Head of U.S. Naval Intelligence, the Head of MI6 and facility runner Fredrickson. On top of that he was dressed in his full number ones, medals displayed on his chest. It was a highly uncomfortable situation.
They continued following Fredrickson down the corridor until they reach station six and Steve glanced in the window. He was taken aback for a moment by the sight of a gorgeous woman standing in the middle of the room, her pale skin gleaming in the bright lights and her dark hair tied back from her angular face. She was dressed in gym clothes, standing on blue mats that were the floor's carpet. He wondered what she was doing, standing there her muscles tensed and her arms hanging loose by her sides.
His wondering was answered in the next moment when two men launched themselves at her from either side of the room. His jaw almost dropped as he watched her move like lightning, the heel of her left foot connecting with the stomach of one of her assailants before she spun and cracked the second in the jaw with a shattering blow of her fist. The two men did not let up but she spun and twirled throwing punches and kicks that met their targets every time.
"Fast, isn't she?" Fredrickson said to him noticing his gaze. Steve swallowed and glanced briefly at him before his eyes went immediately back to the spectacle before him.
"She is," he agreed. "I wouldn't know whether to fuck her or fight her."
His three companions laughed jovially at that comment, C maybe finding it a tad more hilarious than the other two. Steve couldn't spare them a glance as he watched the woman duck down swinging her leg round and knocking one of the men's feet out from under him.
"I wouldn't say that to her," Fredrickson told him quietly when the laughter had died down. "She'd be liable to remove valuable parts of your anatomy."
"Don't worry," Steve said, "I'd never suggest it to her."
He continued to watch her with her ponytail flying as dispatched one of her assailants with a boot to the chest before she tackled the other one bring him down and then planting her thighs firmly around her his neck.
"She'd better not break anything," C commented.
"She never does, Chief," Fredrickson reassured him.
"I'd better more afraid that she'd break them," Meyers said with a smile.
They stayed for only a few moments more before moving on. They reached the end of the corridor where they turned right and then went through a door into an office much like the one up the stairs. C immediately took a seat behind the desk and indicated that the others should do the same. Steve and Meyers sat but Fredrickson remained standing.
Steve looked around at the three men, waiting. Fredrickson stood by the door with the clipboard still clutched in his hands. C seemed to be having a silent conversation with Meyers from the way they were looking at each other but Steve couldn't fathom exactly what they were saying to each other. He placed his hat on his knees resisting the urge to drum his fingers on it in anticipation about what was going to come next.
"So Lieutenant," C said eventually looking at him, "do you accept?"
Steve thought about it for a moment. He definitely wanted to transfer into Intelligence and if this would give him extra credit as it were then he felt it was an opportunity he could not pass up. It wasn't as though he could feel put off with the idea of killing someone even if it was in cold blood and premeditated. The only thing he was feeling apprehensive about was working with someone who was an experienced spy and assassin when he was woefully inexperienced in that department. He didn't know exactly how to be another person, it wasn't like he had had the opportunity to explore that world.
"I accept," he told them after a moment.
"Good, good," Meyers said with a warm smile. "I know you shall not let us down Lieutenant."
That made Steve feel even more uncomfortable. Meyers didn't know him except from what he had read in his file or heard from his commanding officers and Steve felt he was putting a lot of faith in him considering he had never been involved in this type of covert operation before.
"Who will I be working with then?" he asked looking at C, who smiled in a sly way before looking up at Fredrickson.
"Send in Bravo please," he asked him and Fredrickson quickly disappeared out of the door.
"I will provide you with Bravo's file," C told him, "but I recommend that you spend some time together before we ship you out to Deli. I'm sure that you understand the need to know your partner in order to trust them. I'm sure you know your team mates."
Steve knew the wisdom in what he was saying. It was hard to trust someone you didn't know and if he was going to be working with this British agent then the best thing would be to get to know them.
Before he could answer the door opened. C and Meyers immediately got to their feet and Steve hurried to copy them. He turned towards the door expecting to see one of the slightly bruised men from station six but instead it was that black haired woman that entered the room. Steve couldn't help but stare at her and when she met his eyes he couldn't help but notice the colour of them, shimmering grey like the colour of wet slate.
"Ah Bravo," C greeted her with a bright smile, "can I introduce your American counterpart Lieutenant Steve McGarrett?"
She smiled at him and he just had to smile back at her. She was infectious.
"A pleasure tae meet ye, Lieutenant McGarrett," she said to him with a heavy Scottish accent which surprised him slightly but he quickly took the offered hand to shake it.
"Nice to meet you too," Steve told her. "I don't have to call you Bravo, do I?"
"No," she said with a wicked grin that hinted at a mischievous side to her, "ye can call me Axel."
There we have it. I'd love to know what you think of course and also hear your suggestions on what you would like to read next =)
Kerr x.