Arthur pressed his back against the cold wet brick wall, listening to the noise of his beating heart and the raindrops hitting the pavement of the cold and dark London Street. Arthur glanced to the other side of the red door, glancing at his older brother, Allistor and his fiery red hair.
The brothers were the best agents that the United Kingdom had to offer, specialising in areas of kidnapping and counterterrorism. They had foiled attempts to assassinate figures like the Prime Minister, and even the Queen, as well as solved kidnappings that had the whole country captivated.
They were Agent King, and Agent Knight, brothers who were unstoppable against the crime-lords of London.
Currently they were on the case of tracking down a missing Greek diplomat, and all sources pointed to the same reoccurring crime-lord, whom had made London his home. The same crime-lord who illustrated kidnappings and assassinations all over the city and mainland Europe and had also managed to avoid capture whilst being such a notable figure. This man made the Brit's blood boil with rage every time a dead body turned up with his signature rose, or a figure had suddenly disappeared overnight.
When the coast was deemed clear, Arthur stepped in front of the red door as Allistor ducked behind him and began to pick the lock with record-speed. The red door creaked open and the agents slid in and became consumed with the darkness; adapting to it whilst still being ready to handle any threat. As silent as mice, the agents crept in the darkness, avoiding any light that came through the windows. They ducked under the tables of the closed down factory, noting the areas that were covered in dust, and the others that weren't.
Their job was to locate the kidnapped diplomat, get him and get out. More police and other agents were waiting outside for them, waiting for the opportunity to storm the building with force.
The agents froze when they noticed a spotlight move across the wall as a guard walked by, aiming his torch at the darkness. Arthur ducked under the table and silenced himself as the guard walked by. Arthur watched the man's legs pass in front of his face, before crawling out of his hiding spot and stalking his prey like a tiger in hunting. Arthur took the fibre-wire and pulled it off of his utility belt, strapping the thick string around his hands as he crept closer to his unknowing victim. And then he pounced. Wrapping the fibre-wire around the man's neck, effectively silencing him, Arthur used all of his strength to pull his victim down, forcing him to drop his torch in the struggle to breathe as Arthur dragged him to the floor. The victim could barely make a noise as Arthur tightened his grip, watching the man twitch and spasm under the Brit's power. Satisfied with his work, Arthur dragged his victims limp body underneath a desk, effectively hiding his work.
He finally noticed his brother again, and gestured with his hands.
'Be vigilant' He signalled by pointing to his eyes, before gesturing to the area around him, trying to communicate that there could be more of them.
Allistor smirked, understanding his brother's message and under the cover of darkness, they continued to scout the area. A grunt came from the back room, where light shone out from under the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor, Arthur and Allistor knew that they had found their target. After circling the area and making sure that there were no more guards, the brothers pressed their backs against the walls before the door. Arthur took out his wrist watch, which doubled as a communicator: truly the height of British technological innovation.
"Closing in, enter in t-minus 5," Arthur whispered into his watch.
"Ready, lad?" Allistor whispered, preparing his handgun.
"Go." Arthur confirmed.
With one heavy bang, Allistor's boots kicked the door open, revealing an empty storeroom with one weakly hanging lightbulb. Underneath the lightbulb in the centre of the room sat a figure in a weak wooden chair, wearing a dirty white shirt and black pants, with a straw bag covering his head.
However, something didn't seem right, the man was alone… not usual for a kidnapping case, in silence, Arthur and Allistor glanced around the room, unsure of how to treat the situation. The busted in expecting to see a firing squad of kidnappers who were ready to defend their expensive victim, not the victim literally sitting there for the taking.
"What the…" Allistor whispered, feeling as uncomfortable as Arthur.
Suddenly, a loud noise rocketed through the brothers ears, making them gasp in pain, Arthur cried out as they were overwhelmed by dust and debris as they felt the ceiling collapse around them.
"FUCK! GET DOWN!" Arthur heard Allistor cry as he felt his brother push Arthur to the ground, only before they were crushed by the falling concrete. Arthur gasped loudly, breathing in the thick dust and feeling his lungs be crushed under the weight.
Arthur wheezed in pain as the dust finally settled, with minimal damage being done to the building, with the rubble crushing the two agents.
"Allistor…" Arthur wheezed, looking around for any sign of his older brother under the concrete slabs, desperate to see some sign of him, rather than feel his brother's body pressed into his back. "Allistor…" Arthur gasped when he noticed his brother's dusty hand sticking out from under the rumble, right next to Arthur. Arthur forced his hand out from under the concrete and grasped the warm hand, touching his brother's bloodstained fingertips. "Fuck... It's ok, we'll get you out of there…" Arthur wheezed, relieved at the sight of his brothers fingers moving, the sign of life that Arthur had been internally begging for.
Suddenly, Arthur saw a figure move from the corner of his eye, Arthur began to wiggle out of his trap, managing to pull his torso out from under the rubble, revealing Allistor's bleeding back as he pulled away the rubble. Despite this, the brothers were still hopelessly trapped and gravely injured as Arthur's legs were still squashed under the rubble. Arthur glanced behind him to see that the kidnapped victim had stood up, having being completely missed by the collapsed ceiling.
"What an amazing aim…" A familiar accent purred as the man pulled the straw sack off of his head, revealing a tuft of glossy blonde hair and piercing sky-blue eyes. The man smiled, sending a shiver down Arthur's spine when he finally registered who he was facing.
"Bonnefoy…" Arthur spat.
"Agent King!" Francis cried out, as though he was greeting an old friend, "or can I call you Arthur? Hm?" Arthur frowned, unsettled at the fact that this international criminal now knew his true identity.
Francis tilted his head to the side, as he stepped over a small wall of rubble and concrete, getting closer to the Brit.
"Do you know how long I've waited for this?" Francis asked as he revealed a handgun from behind his back. "You are your brother; you the King and he your Knight, vulnerable and weak…"
"The diplomat is dead… isn't he?" Arthur asked.
"Wow. You're mortal enemy stands before you holding a gun, and you are still concerned with your work?" Francis chuckled. "You were irritating until the end, Kirkland. And, oui; you are right…" Francis lifted the handgun towards Arthur, "you were chasing after a dead man."
Arthur couldn't take his eyes off of the weapon, dreading what came next. However, when Francis shot, the bullet did not find Arthur…. But Allistor. Allistor cried out in pain as he tried to move out from under the rubble, however the weight and the bullet in his back stopped that.
"He's not coming back from that…" Francis pointed out. "You and you're brother were the bane of my existence. However." Francis bent over, so his head hovered over Arthur, who was too stunned and terrified to speak. "You were the worst. I want you last. Hm… Perhaps I shouldn't kill you…"
The shock prevented Arthur from speaking, all he could do was listen to the Frenchman speak and the furious beating of his own heart, as well as feel his older brother slip away as he writhed in the pain from the gunshot.
Francis' sickeningly twisted smile disappeared when he glanced upward, hearing the noise of other officers approaching the level, soon to surround him. Francis glanced down at Arthur, resuming his smile, "it turns out that you're not alone. Oh well. There goes my fun. Au revoir, Arthur Kirkland."
Suddenly, following the bang of a gunshot, everything turned black around the agent as he dissolved into silence and coldness.
Arthur didn't know how long it was, all he knew was that he couldn't move, and he couldn't open his eyes. He listened to people panic around him, but he remained indifferent, consumed by the alluring peacefulness of the dark. He fell in and out constantly, waging a war against the bullet lodged into his chest, as it pulled him closer towards death. The pain became so bad, Arthur could barely remember his own name, but yet, all he knew was that he had to fight it. Despite how tempting it was, he could not allow the darkness to take him away.
Suddenly, Arthur could open his eyes… and all he could see was a beaming bright white light, Arthur dreaded that light meaning that he had finally lost his fight… He internally begged to continue, he didn't want to die, there was too much left for him to do…
"Arthur!" A familiar voice cried.
Arthur squinted as his vision began to return to him as his eyes began to adjust to the sudden influx of powerful lights, to his relief, what he first thought was death was simply a ceiling light…
"What?" Arthur wheezed, his dry throat relinquished at the presence of fresh air.
"Are you here…? Come on, bud, wake up…" A soothing voice encouraged.
Arthur tried to register what was going on, however he could not ignore the aching pain in his chest, which impacted his mobility. Arthur glanced at the white bedside table, with the first splash of colour he had seen being bright purple and yellow flowers, alongside a cute get-well card.
He glanced beside his bed to see two men in suits standing by his bed, with the shorter one holding another box-flower arrangement.
He recognised these men as his co-workers, fellow agents…
"Gilbert, Kiku… Fancy seeing you two here…" Arthur wheezed, his consciousness slowly returning to him.
"You made it…" Gilbert sighed, smiling sweetly.
"They were afraid you wouldn't make it as w—"the Japanese man cut himself off, before walking around the bed to place the flower arrangement on the bedside table. Arthur was too dazed and confused to register what Kiku had said, and instead focussed on Gilbert, who just stared at him silently, and somewhat sympathetically.
"What's going on?" Arthur groaned.
"You were shot in the chest. It turns out that Bonnefoy had placed a bomb on the level above you, and set it off when you walked into the room," Gilbert explained.
"Oh…" Arthur muttered, unable to completely process the memory, but yet… he didn't want to. And then it suddenly came back all at once, and hit Arthur's mind like a bullet. "Where is Allistor?"
Gilbert and Kiku remained silent, and the atmosphere within the hospital room became heavy and thick.
And the reality slowly began to dawn on the young agent like a haunting sunrise…
It took another month of rehabilitation and heavy pain medication before Arthur was discharged from hospital, and could finally plan a funeral for his brother.
Arthur dreaded it, he had cried so much, he could cry no more. He spent hours sitting by the window in his apartment with his head hung and his eyes focussed on the floor, unsure about how to handle the reality of the situation.
The funeral was the most pathetic thing Arthur had ever seen, and he even considered leaving halfway through it. The brothers had no other siblings, they shared a dead mother, and Allistor's father had disappeared to Scotland. Their job had consumed so much of their lives: a social life was impossible, so there were no personal friends other than other agents… sadly… it was impossible for an agent to pass maintaining the national security of the United Kingdom to stop by the funeral. So as a last resort to have at least some kind of crowd for Allistor, Arthur had invited a group of men Allistor sometimes watched soccer games with at their local pub.
Arthur had to lie about his brother's life… he was silenced from talking about Allistor's work, and denied the ability to disclose just what a service Allistor had done for the country.
He thanked the people who could attend for attending as they lined up to leave the funeral, Arthur could barely look at the people as he hopelessly mutters 'cheers', 'thanks for coming' and 'thank you'.
However, one person remained behind, someone who Arthur had never seen before. Arthur couldn't complain, at least people were coming to see Allistor off. This person stood in front of Arthur, and listened to Arthurs pathetic thanks, but he didn't leave.
"Excuse me, Arthur Kirkland…" The man said in a charming Italian accent, producing his hand and offering the depressed Brit a handshake.
"Yes," Arthur muttered as he took the Italian's hand, finally putting in the effort to look up at the man before him. The Italian still wore a smile, despite the situation and stared at Arthur with intense brown eyes, his hair was a deep cinnamon shade and a protruding curl caught the Brits attention.
"My name is Feliciano Vagaras, I work for the CIA," The Italian began, "I have been an admirer of you and agent Knights work for a long time. I am sorry to approach you at such a personal time. However, the news of his death really hit the heart of the CIA agents. You have America's condolences."
Arthur couldn't help but smile at the fact that someone at the funeral was there to really honour the real Allistor. "Thank you."
"However… I also come to you… asking for help…" Feliciano sighed.
Arthur frowned, "what?"
"The CIA needs your help," Feliciano explained, "one of our agents have been kidnapped and all of our resources have failed to find him, we need your help."
"I don't do that anymore," Arthur pointed out coldly, defensively crossing his arms over his chest. "Do you even know what happened to me three months ago?"
"Yes, we do," Feliciano pointed out. "But we are desperate here! This agent is extremely important, and the man who kidnapped him is extremely dangerous!"
Arthur scowled, feeling the Italians desperate and intense stare break down his emotional barriers, "Just how important is it that this agent is recovered?"
"It means the international security of the United States of America." Feliciano explained. "Everything."