Yet another fill of a Blangst prompt (#557). The original prompt is the following:
Prompt: Kurt becomes a police officer and loves his job. He is eventually assigned to a case involving someone hiring a hitman and goes in undercover with another officer. He never expected the suspect to hand over a picture of his fiancé, Blaine.
I have to admit I've changed some of the elements of the prompt, but they are fairly small changes that I felt made more sense in the overall plot.
Fair warning: anything about the agency (DEA) mentioned in the story comes from information I have found on the Internet, so I can't guarantee that it's entirely correct. Same goes for the way they operate in the story. I have no idea what their guidelines are on situations like this, so you'll have to forgive me if the story doesn't seem believable. I just hope you'll like it anyway.
(Also: the story has nothing to do with the song that has the same title as my story. I'm just really bad at finding a good title and this seemed fairly okay.)
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its characters (if I did, this wouldn't be fanfiction).
How To Save A Life.
"Almost there," a slightly crackling voice came through the headphones. Listening to the voice were several DEA Special Agents holed up in a rather small van, all wearing bulletproof vests and keeping their weapons close in case things went wrong.
"Okay," Andrew 'Andy' Roberts, team leader of the unit active in this operation, said. "Phil, are your guys ready?"
"Yes, sir, they're ready. We're good to go once you give us the signal."
"Good. Let's just hope this works out as planned and we can make this a clean bust."
On one of the computer screens, a green dot suddenly stopped moving.
"Showtime," Kurt Hummel – aka Mike Williams, aka the agent who was sent in undercover and now posed as a hardened drug dealer – warned via the little microphone hidden in his watch.
"Good luck," Andy muttered, even though he knew Kurt couldn't hear him through the one-way communication device.
He held his breath when the connection as well as the dot on the screen disappeared completely while Kurt was searched for bugs. A few minutes later, the signal reappeared and a collective sigh of relief went through the van.
The intended target of the op was a drug lord who had been released from prison two years back after a sentence of eighteen years and who seemed to have fallen right back into his old habits. It had taken the DEA a while to track him, but ever since they had found his trail, they had been gathering evidence against him in the hope that they could make a solid case against the criminal and lock him up for good this time. They already had a decent amount of evidence, but it wasn't enough. What they really needed to get him off the streets permanently was to catch him red-handed.
Which is why they had created a brand-new alias for Kurt as a ruthless drug dealer who was known for eliminating the competition if necessary, but who had so far never been caught yet. A cover like that was crucial when dealing with guys like Paul Luttman. Kurt knew the man was not only extremely careful but also very dangerous and didn't object to having whoever stood in his way taken out. Therefore, he was also aware that if Luttman and his accomplices found the hidden bug or discovered his real identity, he would be dead in a flash.
"Mr Williams," Luttman greeted him as Kurt was led into the criminal's office and shook the offered hand. "Thank you for coming. Have a seat."
"Mr Luttman, I've heard a lot about you," Kurt said pleasantly, sitting down in one of the chairs.
"Have you?" Luttman's already fake smile instantly froze. "What did you hear?"
Kurt knew from the man's icy tone that he had to be careful with what he said next.
"Word on the street is that you are looking to hire."
"Very to the point." Luttman leaned back in his seat, seeming satisfied with Kurt's answer. "I like that."
"I'm too busy a man to waste time on pleasantries, Mr Luttman. So if you don't mind telling me why you've asked me here?"
"Of course. The rumours are true; I am looking for a business partner." He opened a drawer and took out an envelope, which he laid on the table. "I was told you were the best man for the job."
"I'd be happy to offer my services. As you might have heard, I can offer you the best deals out there."
Luttman was silent for a few moments, scrutinising Kurt closely and making the latter feel uncomfortable, although he tried his best to hide it.
"That is actually not what I had in mind," the drug baron finally stated. "Or at least not yet."
Kurt frowned in confusion. Even though their informants had never said it in so many words, they had been told that Luttman needed someone to make his deals for him. After all, using middlemen was how he had managed to stay out of prison for so long before he had been arrested. That first time, his capture had been a matter of luck, of right place right time. But Luttman was even more careful now; he would never allow the same mistake to be made twice.
"Then what did you have in mind?" Kurt asked cautiously. "You do know what my profession is, don't you?"
"Yes, of course I do. And that's also why I asked for you. But there is something else I need you to do first. Consider it a test. If you pass, you're hired."
Kurt nodded, making it look like he had to think about it. He knew that, whatever he had to do, the DEA would find a way to make sure he passed. But he couldn't seem too eager, either, for fear of arousing suspicions.
"Okay," he said after a while. "What do I have to do?"
Luttman smiled, almost genuinely this time, and slid the envelope over the table towards Kurt. The undercover agent opened it curiously.
Thanking his lucky stars for his talent for acting – which had almost landed him a place in NYADA before he had decided that that little world was way too competitive and offered too little chance of success for him –, he only just managed to keep his face in check when he looked at the picture that he had just pulled out of the envelope. He knew any kind of reaction could get him killed, so he tried to keep his expression as neutral as possible when he met the gaze of the man sitting opposite him.
"He's a problem. I want you to take care of it."
"Who is he?"
"That doesn't matter."
"I beg to differ," Kurt argued, trying to stay calm even as he felt his heart go a mile a minute. "I'm going to need more than a picture if I'm going to do this."
"I take it you'll accept my proposition, then?"
Kurt slightly inclined his head, knowing he couldn't back down now, not when they had finally gotten this close.
"Very well. His name is Blaine Anderson, he's thirty-one years old and, according to my sources, he teaches Historical Musicology and Choral Ensemble at NYADA. His address is unknown, but I'm sure that won't be a problem for you, will it?"
"Not at all," Kurt assured, inwardly freaking out as his last shred of hope – that maybe, possibly, it was someone else in the picture, a lookalike – was torn away and he had to accept that it really was his fiancé in the picture.
In the van, Andy Roberts and Sam Evans were staring at each other, both sporting identical shocked expressions.
Blaine was startled out of his angry muttering when he heard a loud knock on the door. He looked up from the paper he had been marking. It was one of the worst papers he had read in a while and, at NYADA, that was saying something, considering how hard the students there worked. For the past hour, he had been doing nothing but correcting the many spelling and grammatical mistakes and even some historical inaccuracies the paper contained. It was such a disaster that it had managed to bring out his inner "crazy person", as Kurt liked to call it. Apparently, when he was particularly disappointed, he would start muttering to himself, commenting on the paper or test out loud without realising it. Kurt, of course, thought it was adorable, although to others, it might make him look like he was crazy.
Blaine stood up with a sigh and headed for the door, wondering who it could be. Most people he knew were at work and Kurt had some major bust that day, so it was way too early to be him, especially if he still had to finish his paperwork to wrap the case up.
"Sam? Hey. What are you doing here?"
Blaine knew Sam was in the same unit Kurt was in. Kurt and Blaine had actually been the ones to urge Sam to try the DEA training after many years of drifting from one job to another. And it had paid off. Sam had graduated with flying colours and had, with a good word from Kurt, been placed in Andy Roberts' team.
Given that a major case was hopefully coming to a close that very day, Blaine knew Sam had no reason to be standing at his door.
"Hey man. Can I come in?"
"Yeah, sure."
As soon as the door was closed, Sam started looking around as if he were searching for something.
"Um... What–"
Blaine shut up abruptly when Sam laid a finger against his lips, urging him be quiet.
"I thought I'd come and say hi," the agent said, falsely casual. "I wanted to see if you felt like hanging out."
While he was talking, Sam walked past Blaine to the table and grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, holding it out to him when he was done writing.
'Checking for bugs. Act normal.'
Bewildered, Blaine followed the instruction.
"Um, sure, okay, that'd be great. I was actually grading papers, but I guess they can wait."
With a wave of his hand, Sam motioned for him to continue talking as he took apart Blaine's phone and the landline and looked behind the TV. So Blaine did, giving a much too detailed account of all the errors he had encountered so far – except for the spelling mistakes since he knew that that was still a sore spot for his best friend – while Sam hummed from time to time as if he were listening.
Finally, he emerged from the bedroom and turned his attention to Blaine, whose mind by now had conjured up several frightening scenarios as to why Sam had showed up like this and where Kurt might be – who, for the record, did a sweep of their apartment every few weeks.
"It's clear. I didn't find any bugs."
"Sam, what the hell is going on?" Blaine exploded. "What are you doing here? And where's Kurt?"
"Dude, calm down, okay? I'll explain everything, but I needed to make sure no one was listening in."
"Okay, it's safe, right? So start talking."
"Um...," Sam looked around uncomfortably. "Maybe you should sit down, dude..."
"Sam!" Blaine exclaimed warningly.
"Okay, fine. So, there's no easy way to say this, so I'll just... say it. … Someone's out to kill you."
A tense silence fell as Blaine froze and went several shades paler.
"I'm sorry, dude," Sam said softly, taking Blaine by the arm and leading him to the couch. "We just found out today."
"I don't understand," Blaine managed. "Why?"
"We don't really know. I was actually supposed to ask you if you knew someone who might want you dead."
Blaine shook his head.
"You sure?" Sam frowned in thought. "Does the name Paul Luttman sound familiar to you? He's the guy that hired the hitman..."
"Paul Luttman?" Blaine's head shot up. "As in drug baron Paul Luttman?"
"Yes? You know him?"
"Unfortunately, yes." He hesitated, wondering how much he was allowed to tell his friend. Then again, that same friend was a trained DEA Special Agent who could help prevent his untimely death.
"How much do you know of Luttman's trial?"
"Um, I know the DEA never had enough evidence against him until twenty years ago, when two bystanders witnessed one of his deals and he was finally arrested and tried based on their testimony. Andy always says they got lucky back then."
Blaine nodded.
"My dad and I...," he started hesitantly. "We were on a road trip. I was eleven at the time. We got lost. Somehow, we ended up in some desolate place. My dad got out of the car, said he was going to ask this group of guys for directions. He told me to stay put, but I didn't want to be left behind, so I followed him out. As we got closer, we saw what was happening. It was simply a matter of wrong place wrong time."
"Wait..." Sam looked at him, eyes wide, shock written plainly on his face. "You and your dad were the two witnesses?"
Blaine nodded again.
"And after my dad's... accident last year–"
"– you're the only witness left," Sam finished. "Your dad's accident..."
Blaine could almost see the wheels in his friend's brain turning.
"What? You don't mean to say..."
Sam fixed him with a worried stare.
"Maybe your dad's death wasn't an accident."
Sam's grim statement was met with a silence that seemed to go on forever.
"No," Blaine mumbled weakly. "It... It was a car accident. People die in accidents all the time... Sam...?"
Sam quickly enveloped his friend in a tight hug, hoping to comfort him.
"It's okay, it'll be okay."
"I don't want to die, Sam."
Sam could barely hear Blaine's muffled reply.
"You won't. We'll protect you. I promise. I won't let anything happen to you."
Several minutes later, Sam gently pulled away.
"Listen to me. I need you to pack a bag. Some clothes, things you need, medication, stuff like that. Make sure it's enough for a few days. We're going to take you to a safe house."
"Okay," Blaine whispered, then went to the bedroom.
As soon as he was gone, Sam pulled out his phone.
"Andy? I've got some important information on the case."
By the time Blaine made his way back into the living room, Sam had just finished making the necessary phone calls.
"You ready?"
Blaine looked around numbly.
"I think so."
His eyes fell on the papers he had been marking seemingly an eternity ago. On impulse, he gathered them and shoved them in his bag, knowing it would give him something to do. As he reached for his laptop, Sam stopped him.
"You can't take that. Actually, you should leave your phone too." Seeing Blaine's incredulous expression, he shrugged. "We can't risk them tracking you in any way."
Sighing, Blaine took out his phone and turned it off, dropping it onto the table when he was done.
"Let's go."
"Wait." Blaine suddenly had a startling realisation and felt guilty that he hadn't thought of this before. "What about Kurt? Is he coming to the safe house too? If my life is in danger, then his might be too."
If Sam had been uncomfortable telling Blaine about the hitman before, he was positively miserable now.
"Um, actually... Kurt is the one they hired to kill you."
A/N: The whole story is already written, so the other chapters will be posted once I'm finished editing them, which probably won't take too long.
In the meantime, let me know what you think. Like it? Don't like it? Tell me all about it in a lovely review!
Oh, and I have a question for (especially) American readers and more specifically those who go to or have gone to university. I was wondering what happens when a professor is absent for several days and they need someone to replace him/her temporarily. Do they replace him/her with a substitute or does the professor's TA take over? (I'm not American so I have no idea how this works in American universities.) And then purely out of interest: does every prof have a TA?