A/N: And the plot thickens... Fair warning, this is going to be my "How can you be so evil to our darling Brandt?" story. *wicked grin* This is only the beginning, my friends... Also, Beta Branch, I salute you, and throwing one out to my awesome reviewers, too!
The afternoon sunlight filtered through the glassless windows of the abandoned office building, acting as spotlights to the clouds of dancing dust particles floating through the air. Brandt watched them with an almost detached fascination as he worried over the girl and his team, ignoring his split lip, the bruising on his jaw, stomach, and back from the beating he took at the school, and the ache in his shoulders from his arms being shackled too high above his head. He had been stripped of his weapons, his belt, his shoes, and his shirt; but it was warm, so that didn't bother Brandt any further than as an insult to his dignity. His captor hadn't laid a hand on him since chaining him up like a slab of beef, and no one was left in the room for him to trade insults with. As far as being held hostage went, Brandt had to chuckle slightly at the notion that he was actually bored.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than the sound of the door opening somewhere behind him interrupted his musing.
"Of course," he mumbled, and rotated his body around the best he could in order to face his visitor. The man did not look happy.
"Your friends got away with the girl," he spat out angrily.
Brandt's smile was cut short as a handful of his hair was used to painfully wrench his head back. The African man stepped up close to his face and hissed into his ear, "They have precisely twelve minutes to contact me, or you will pay the price for her escape."
"They're not just going to hand her over," Brandt calmly informed his captor.
His head was released, and a hard shove sent him twisting back around on his chains. His wrists and arms cried out in protest, but he managed to keep the pain from showing on his face. Instead, he simply glared at the African who had come around to stand in front of him. Slowly, a sly grin spread across his captor's face.
"Good. It means I can have a little fun with you before I win my prize." He walked around the analyst, looking him over as if deciding where his "fun" should begin. He spotted the circular scar on the lower right side of Brandt's back, the wound clearly healed but still new enough to show pink in the center. "Bullet?" he asked casually.
"Germany, just after I took out another self-important asshole like you."
The man lightly brushed his fingers against the sensitive spot, causing Brandt to reflexively jerk away. "You'll be wishing for another bullet by the time I'm done with you." Chuckling to himself, he left Brandt alone again to think about his fate.
"They got the girl," Will told himself. "That's all that matters. You accomplished the mission, Brandt."
The thought wasn't nearly as comforting as he had hoped.
~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~
The driver of the SUV had lost sight of the bus for only a minute, not nearly enough time for the whole vehicle to just disappear…and yet, as he rounded the turn he could see nothing of the large, silver rig. He ordered the other men to look around, to peer down the alleyways as they passed; but the only bus any of them saw was a city transit boarding passengers, it's entire side painted with a giant red and blue ad for toothpaste.
Worry sounding in his tone, he dialed up his boss and simply said, "We lost them."
The cool, calm response followed up by screaming was exactly what the man expected, and he held the phone away from his ear until things quieted down a bit. While he attempted to smooth things over with his employer, one of the other men glanced back at the city bus through the rearview mirror. The bright, smiling mouth on the bus's front grill made him shake his head, wondering why anyone would choose to paint a vehicle that way…
~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~
"Are we clear?" Ethan asked from the floor of the bus's aisle where he was monitoring the images that the projector was displaying in the rig's windows.
"They're gone," Benji said with a relieved sigh, then turned back to his team leader sporting a wide smile. "I told you the instant camouflage would come in handy."
Hunt nodded as he stood up, eyeing the video projections of people moving to their seats before he turned off the feed. "Never lose that love for random tech, Benj."
Dunn smirked at the hidden "well-done" and dialed everyone's comms to a different line. "Athena?" he asked.
There was a moment of hesitation before Jane spoke up, her voice tight with emotion; but whether it was from anger, fear, regret, grief – or all of the above – the guys couldn't tell. "Proceeding to rendezvous," was all she said before she went silent.
Benji looked towards Ethan for direction, who merely gazed ahead at nothing through the windshield for a few seconds before answering. "Athena, we're trading transport at Checkpoint C. We'll meet you at Olympus in twenty."
The tech's eyes went wide. "Twenty…but we've only got about…what, ten minutes? That man said-"
"I know, Benji," Ethan snapped. He looked away and lowered his volume to nearly a whisper. "The girl is the priority. Brandt understood that."
~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~
"Your friends have abandoned you."
Brandt didn't try to turn around this time. His arms had gone a bit too numb to make any attempt at movement beyond the bare minimum. Just focusing on shifting his weight the best he could from one leg to the other had been difficult enough, for even the slightest bend in his knees would put that much more of his body mass on his already strained arms.
"Crispin Roux," he stated matter-of-factly.
The man looked surprised as he came around to make eye contact with Will. "How would you know that? Who have you been talking to?"
"No one," Brandt grinned. "You're too good at keeping yourself hidden."
The confusion on Roux's face almost made Brandt laugh. "I don't understand."
Will tried to shrug, but abandoned the attempt quickly when the movement burned his shoulder. "It's my job to know faces, and I don't know yours. The pieces just kind of fell together - South African, gunning for the senator's daughter, the senator that happens to be pushing new bills that put more restrictions on the diamond trade. You're not Kruger, Du Preez, or Botha – the only other dealers whacked out enough to pull a stunt like this – so that leaves me with Roux – the only one who's managed to keep his identity a complete secret."
"Impressive."
"Not really. Just process of elimination." He cocked his head slightly to the side. "My question to you is, why risk coming out of hiding to personally take care of the kidnapping? Don't you have guys for that?"
"I think my men have already proven that if you want something done right…"
Brandt nodded. "But even you didn't plan on someone like me getting in the way. Kinda put a kink in your process, didn't I?"
Roux frowned. "Yes, you did, Prometheus."
"I'm guessing you want my name, too, since I figured out yours?" Brandt asked in a snide way that made it clear that he wasn't going to tell Roux even that much.
"No," the man answered, his eyes lighting up with an oddly joyful gleam. "The moniker you've given yourself suits the situation perfectly. The Titan chained down and forgotten by his own people." His much taller height allowed him to run a hand up to the shackles and along the bottom of the chains. "Left to the mercy of the eagle." The grin became more sinister. "All because of one little mistake born of the best intentions, I'm sure."
Brandt shook his head. "It wasn't a mistake. Not this time."
"We'll see about that," Roux said softly, just before his hand came up and plunged a needle into the agent's neck.
Brandt sucked in a sharp breath as his whole body seemed to jerk in reaction to the fast-acting drug. "What-?" he started to ask before he drowned out his own question with a pain-filled scream. Every muscle shook as he tried to fight off the sensation of acid pumping through his system.
Roux gripped Brandt's chin, forcing him to look into dark eyes so brown they were nearly black. "In myth, the eagle came once a day. I will come every hour to give you a different experience - ones that form deeper scars than this." He stabbed a finger into the old gunshot wound, sending a rippling effect through Will's nerves that made him scream out, once again. "Are you certain now that you did not make a mistake?"
Brandt didn't answer, too lost in his new pain to even hear the question.