2nd half of chap 1
Alex couldn't believe it. "What's going on?"
"We can't discuss anything here." Crawley's undistinguished face was taut with urgency. "We need to leave right now."
Alex was furious. This couldn't be happening! They couldn't do this to him! "Why?" He demanded.
"There's no time for this!" Crawley spat out the whisper, eyes jerky.
"I'm not coming with you unless you give me a good enough reason."
Crawley glared at him for a moment, then pulled out his gun. It rested against the top of the table, pointing directly at Alex. Alex stared at it. This was a new trick.
"Drop it" Crawley ordered.
Alex frowned, and let the plastic spoon fall to the table top. Crawley really was jittery.
"Now get up, and walk out. There's a car parked outside. Get in."
Alex didn't move.
"Now, Alex!"
Slowly, Alex pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. Crawley was going to have to put his weapon away. Someone was bound to notice. That red-head, for instance.
He was right. Crawley slipped the gun away and made to stand up.
.
But just as he made it, five figures rose from various tables around the cafe, guns all pointing at each other. Alex stared as people screamed and hit the floor. The five he'd noticed earlier of course. Had he been that blind? His fingers trembled in frustration. After five weeks, the danger hadn't come back to haunt him. It had always been there. He'd just been blanking it out.
Crawley blanched. Screaming turned to silence. The overhead pop song all the more clear. Alex gritted his teeth and eyed each of the gunmen. Three had pulled balaclavas over their heads. Perhaps the other two were Crawley's. They were all held in a stand-off, surprised by each other, eyes flickering at the other four and at Crawley and Alex. Alex glanced at the sixth man he'd earlier suspected, currently cowering under his table. At least he'd been wrong about one of them. What now?
"Leave, Alex." Crawley demanded quietly.
Alex backed off a step from the table. One of the balaclava gunmen aimed at Alex. "Come here."
Alex glanced from one group to the other. "If this is a stand-off, can I sit down again? I know you guys will probably need some time to figure this out."
No-one answered, they were too busy staring each other out. The customers whimpered. Alex reclaimed his seat. He couldn't let Sabina walk out of the toilets and see this. She'd seen all this before and he'd nearly lost her because of it. It would ruin everything. He had to draw them all out of here. But how? He felt so many eyes on him and prayed that there was no-one who knew him here.
Then he made his decision. He stood up, and walked towards the door. He ignored the yells. He kept going. Whoever these guys were, they could have shot him while he was drinking hot chocolate. So they must want him to stay alive. Therefore, no-one was going to shoot him now.
It was a risk, but the odds were fair enough. As he touched the door handle, shots finally rang out, people shrieked, and he felt John Crawley's hand on his collar, shoving him out onto the street. The other five were giving chase, exchanging fire. Alex heard a scream of agony. He hoped it was one of the gunmen. A black Sedan was poised directly outside the cafe. Crawley swung the backdoor open. "In!"
Alex figured that if they were summoning him to tell him he was being targeted, it was a bit late. But he did as Crawley directed.
One foot in, out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a figure darting down the street towards them, his face masked, gun in hand. Another one.
"Alex!"
The voice rooted Alex to the pavement, he knew that voice! But-
"Alex!"
Crawley shoved at him, Alex twisted aside from the hands, eyes wide, barely believing it.
He recognised the voice and he recognised the scar across the man's neck. Ruler straight. He turned from the car. Tried to make his way towards him.
Crawley snatched at him, grabbed his arms, screamed at the car's occupants.
The new gunman fired. Crawley hit the pavement. Alex didn't doubt that he was dead, and he barely spared him a glance. He stared incredulously at the new gunman.
Then the occupants of the car descended upon him. "Don't shoot!" One of the yelled, pressing his gun against Alex's temple while the others snatched at his arms, cuffing him, dragging him towards the car. The gunman held fire on them, turning only to shoot at one of the balaclava men who had burst onto the street. Another clean shot. But there was panic in his eyes, a frantic look that Alex could never have pictured. Couldn't understand now.
"Stay where you are!" His captors yelled at the gunman. The gunman didn't move. He watched Alex. Alex stared back. But you're dead.
Then he was finally crammed into the car, hands tugging and pushing him, hands wrenched back. He could barely struggle. Everything else was forgotten. But you're dead.
The ignition roared. People were still screaming. Car doors slammed.
"Put him to sleep!" The driver yelled as they fired down the street. Sirens rang out in the distance.
Alex felt the weight of four hands shift his to left arm, and then the sharp prick of the jag. He stopped wriggling. The needle slid into his skin, he felt a washing machine jumble of emotions and sounds and colours.
And then he was out.
A/N: Thanks for reading. Review if you want to read any more and/or if you want to point out any AR inaccuracies. I'm not sure if I'm cut out for writing fanfics, I may stick to reviewing y'all if this doesn't go down too well.