Author Note: Huge thanks to Chels and The Brat Prince for the reviews! I'm so happy that people are liking the story so far, especially since this is the story that has got me over about eighteen months of a real reluctance to sit down and write anything at all, not writers block so much as it had stopped being fun. AEBH has made me remember how to have fun writing again and I'm really enjoying myself. The story will run to about fifteen chapters if all goes according to plan – I keep envisioning some of the crazy shit the three mercenaries might get up to and have to force myself not to go on a tangent and put it all in there. I should really stop rambling in these notes, I know. Enjoy!
&*&*&*&*&*&
Gregory strolled into the house almost an hour later, raising an eyebrow at the empty beer bottles but saying nothing. It was unusual for any of the three to have a drink while they were working on a mission, but already it seemed like the circumstances were pretty unusual.
Craig noticed the look and scowled. They'd hardly gone on a bender after all and the whole thing had been sprung on them pretty quickly. Fortunately, Gregory declined to comment, perhaps realising there was some real tension in the room.
"I assume you know we've been hired?" he said without preamble.
"No duh," replied Kenny. "What's going on?"
"I just spoke with Professor William Chalmers, whom I understand is Kyle's tutor." Gregory looked to Kenny for confirmation, although he didn't need it. "They're interested in locating one Tweek Tweak. I believe you two know him already?"
Kenny nodded and Craig scowled blackly at the wall, wondering what Gregory knew about the situation. If he was as well researched into the past lives of his employees as Craig imagined, then Tweek's name may well have come up in his police record, although it wasn't a given.
"I met him but I'm afraid I don't remember him well," continued Gregory, blithely ignoring the atmosphere in the room. "I don't suppose you know of anyone in town who might still be in contact with him?"
"There isn't anyone," snapped Craig.
Gregory nodded. "In that case, we'll have to find him the old-fashioned way, which is why I've arranged for our favourite computer hacker to meet us here. He'll be over shortly."
"What exactly does this Professor want with Tweek?" asked Craig aggressively.
If Gregory was put out by the other man's abruptness, he didn't show it. "He tells me that he merely wants to establish if it's the same person he thinks it is and speak to him. Our job would be to find him, not to retrieve him or make any kind of contact with him."
Craig snorted rudely but Christophe spoke before he could do anything more. "And 'ow far do you trust zis man?"
"How far do you think?" Gregory quirked his lips into a smile and leaned against the wall. "I'm not fond of the idea of finding Tweek only for his life to be put in danger. We'll run a background check on the Professor too and find out what we can about this research of his – I assume you can get that information from Kyle?"
"Sure," said Kenny, but there was a slight frown on his face. "I just hope he isn't sworn to secrecy or some crap like that. He thinks the sun shines out of this guys backside."
"A prophecy." Craig leant back against the couch, arms folded. "Huh. I hate that shit. The last time we got involved in one, half the people in this room ended up stranded in Peru fighting guinea pigs."
"Zey were everywhere," said Christophe with a slight smirk of recollection. "I fed ze one I saw all my 'ome school books and zen disposed of it."
Kenny raised an eyebrow. "How?"
"Semtex."
Craig momentarily forgot his own woes. "You blew up a giant guinea pig with Semtex?"
"Oui. Muzzer was traumatised by ze mess and made me spend a week cleaning ze garden."
Craig shook his head. "Mole, you are a sick fucker."
"Well, 'ow was I to know I 'ad to serenade it with pan pipes?"
"If there's one thing we do know about prophecies, it's that they're hard to avert," said Gregory in an attempt to bring the conversation back on track.
"Ze American-Canadian war was prophesied and we all were involved in zat," Christophe reminded them. "And half ze people in ze room ended up dead."
Kenny realised everyone was looking at him. "What?"
They were saved from responding by a discreet buzzer going off – someone waiting at the gates that were the only safe entrance to the property. Gregory exited the room to go and let in the newcomer, hand unconsciously dropping to his waist to check for a weapon in the unlikely event it wasn't the person they were expecting.
Kenny acted as if they hadn't been disturbed. "Craig was involved in both incidents too, it's not just me y'know."
"Hey, all I did in the war was sing a couple of gay little songs. You were the one cosying up with Satan."
"And all I did in Peru was play the drums! You were the one shooting eye beams like the frigging Terminator."
"Well, we can at least agree that we both – all three of us – have incredibly shitty luck when it comes to prophecies."
"Oh yeah."
"Oui."
"How likely is it that Kyle was wrong about the whole thing?" Craig looked hopeful for a moment, which faded as Kenny shook his head. "Shit."
Christophe rolled his eyes. "You both need to focus. Zis is just another job and we do what we 'ave to without worrying about who is involved. Zis isn't fucking kiddy hour, zis is real life so act like professional fucking mercenaries." He focused on Craig. "And stop theenking with your dick."
Craig gave the Mole a murderous stare and flipped him off with both hands. Christophe refused to look away and for a moment, Kenny was worried he'd have to distract them somehow or get in between them if they decided to take things further. Fortunately for him, Gregory arrived back at that moment with their guest, clearing his throat pointedly to get the attention of the pair.
Kenny leapt up, trying to diffuse the tension in the room by wildly overcompensating, throwing his arm around the newcomer. "Hey! My second-favourite Broflovski! How's it going?"
"Fine," said Ike, extracting himself and giving curious looks at Craig and Christophe, who had put their stand-off aside for the time being at least. "Is it coincidence that Kyle called me to tell me he was gonna be in town for a while – staying at a motel no less – and you guys need my services at the same time?"
"Not exactly," said Kenny.
"I knew it." Ike had brought his own laptop and went into the kitchen, setting it up on the table. The screen saver came to life and Ike quickly accessed his wireless internet connection. "What do you want?"
"A few things," replied Gregory. "Routine background check first I think. Professor William Chalmers."
"Kyle's tutor?" Ike looked intrigued, but began typing rapidly, opening several windows and working too fast for any of the other men to keep up with what he was doing. "Someone might want to get me a printer, I'll make you copies of this stuff."
Grumbling under his breath, Craig went off to his own room and retrieved his printer, arriving back a couple of minutes later to find that Ike had mostly completed his search already.
"There's not much to find," said Ike as he connected the wires into the back of his laptop – no one else save for him was allowed to touch the sacred machine. "I mean, there's a lot of stuff, but it's pretty standard. Forty-five years old, married, two children. Graduated in the top one per cent of his class, does a lot of field research as well as lecturing at the University, he's got tenure. Written two books on ancient civilisations, both considered essential reading for students. No police record, no suspicions of misconduct at the Uni, no evidence of secret mistresses or leather fetishes. His favourite band's Led Zeppelin."
"How did you get that?" asked Kenny.
Ike's look suggested he thought the blonde was pretty dumb. "Facebook. Duh."
Kenny scowled. "I hope you didn't just check that."
"No, I also accessed medical and financial records. No outstanding debts, no bailiffs at the door threatening to break his legs, no suspicious transactions, no lingering STDs and he doesn't have the AIDS. Looks like this guy's a real straight arrow."
"Humph," muttered Kenny, unconvinced.
"Face it Kenny, not everyone has some deep dark secret," said Ike, printing off copies of the information he'd found. "What else do you want me to check?"
"We need to find someone," Gregory told him. "Tweek Tweak. He used to live in South Park."
"I remember him," said Ike, tapping away at the keyboard rapidly. "Used to hang out with Kyle and Stan while Kenny was dead. There was some scan..." He trailed off, giving Craig a shifty look before returning to the screen and changing the subject. "Huh, look at that."
Craig leaned in for a closer look. "What?"
"The initial searches showed up nothing. It's not unheard of, but it's not usual either."
"Tweek was always kinda paranoid," said Craig patiently. "He would have tried to avoid showing up on a computer system."
"All isn't lost," said Ike. "You can't do much without showing up on a system somewhere. No debts, no credit cards, no criminal record..."
Craig muttered something too quiet to hear, but Ike ignored it. "Ta-da. Found something. Took the high school equivalency out of school, passed, just. There's a Colorado address but... oh."
"Oh? What oh?" Craig tried to lean in closer to the screen again.
Ike glared over his shoulder. "Do you mind? You're sucking all the air outta my personal space!"
"Humph." Craig leaned back a fraction of an inch and Ike sighed, continuing scanning the information.
"House is sold. Um... I found his bank records and that's got a home address and work location. Still in Colorado but it's a long way from South Park. Pretty normal stuff, wages go in, bits go out here and there. Huh. Not much going out though and there are two accounts. One of them he doesn't use, but there's a lot of money in it."
"Where would Tweek get money from?" asked Kenny. "He win the lottery or something?"
Ike was quiet for a minute or so, the only sound the tapping of the keys. "Nope, looks like he inherited it. Both parents are deceased. Some kind of car accident according to the obituary, but there's not much information on it."
"Wait, Tweek's parents are dead?" Craig tried once more to lean over Ike's shoulder, the younger man shoving him away irritably. "When?"
"Um, a little over two years ago," said Ike. "He sold the house, got the savings and then just left all the money sitting in the bank in a separate account. Hasn't bought his own place and he doesn't withdraw enough for rent."
"So, what's the address then?" asked Kenny.
"I'm working on it. Here. Third floor apartment, seems to be a residential neighbourhood by the look. Registered to Elliot Bolton, accountant, thirty-two. Unmarried, no kids. Property's not rented out, looks like he's living there too."
Everyone in the room was suddenly trying very hard not to look at Craig, who was attempting to appear nonchalant. "Can we get anything on this guy?"
"Hmmm, give me a minute." Ike went back through his programmes and did the same checks on the new name. "Pays the mortgage on that address, no others listed, no debts, no criminal record, nothing that raises any flags, except – I'm not sure if it's relevant."
Gregory leaned on the table. "Tell us anyway."
"Tweek was the kid with the coffee fetish, right?"
"Yeah," confirmed Kenny.
"Well, according to the employment history of this Bolton guy, until a couple of years ago, he was working in the same job for a different firm – Harbucks coffee to be exact."
Kenny shrugged. "They probably met through Tweek's parents then."
"Uh... a background check on the parents shows them transferring to the area when Tweek was seventeen and taking over the local branch. That's probably a good guess."
"So, we know where Tweek lives now," said Craig as Ike began printing out all the information he'd found. "We've got a vague idea what he's been doing the last few years. We know where he works and who's looking for him. We just don't know why everyone's so sure that he's part of some stupid Peruvian prophecy."
"I'll let Kyle deal with that one," said Ike, shutting down his computer. "I've gotta bail. Have fun tracking down Tweek and don't forget to pay me."
"I wish I could play on the net for half an hour and get paid a bundle," muttered Kenny as Ike left.
"You get to see the world and have lots of exciting experiences instead Kenny." Gregory gave him a sardonic grin.
"I go in a plane, arrive by parachute and go home in a bodybag. Sometimes two or three bodybags and that one time, a bucket. Forgive me for considering a safer line of work."
"If we get going in the next hour, we can tag the apartment tonight," said Craig.
Kenny looked startled. "Eager aren't you?"
"I just want to get this over with so we can get back to our normal lives!"
"We leave tomorrow," said Gregory firmly. "For one thing, we still have to rendezvous with Kyle. Chalmers told me that the group is arriving in South Park at midday tomorrow, so I assume he'll be coming with them."
Kenny nodded. "Yeah, and whatever he decides to say in front of the all-knowing Professor, we could do with getting him alone to double check."
"And we need to work out a strategy before we do anything else." Gregory gave Craig a look that clearly said there should be no arguments. Craig didn't protest, merely sat in Ike's vacated seat and rested his elbows on the table.
"Chalmers wants results within the week," began Gregory briskly. "Preferably much sooner. When the team arrive, Kenny, you'll go with me and we get some information about the carvings."
"Why would 'e tell us?" asked Christophe. "It 'as nothing to do with us why zey want 'im found."
"Because he's claiming his motives lie in academia and since we're already aware of the reasons for the field study and we have no interest in the findings outside of what it means for our mission, he'll probably be quite forthcoming. Although when I spoke to him he laughed at the thought of a prophecy. He's being honest about his reasons."
Kenny tilted his head curiously. "Suspiciously honest?"
"No Kenny, not suspiciously honest. But I want you to speak to Kyle after and find if there's anything else we need to know that Professor Chalmers neglected to mention. I think we've all learned the hard way not to dismiss these things out of hand. If those carvings are accurate, then things in South Park are about to get extremely active. Perhaps we can stop it before that happens."
Gregory picked up a printout that Ike had left, then looked over at Craig. "You're surveillance. Go out there tomorrow, find this apartment and see if he really does live there. There's a work address here too, stake that out as well."
"Is he a barista?" asked Kenny.
"No," said Craig without even thinking about it. Kenny shot him a vaguely amused look and Craig flipped him off.
"He's an archivist," said Gregory.
Kenny blinked. "What, he goes around listening to the Sex Pistols and spitting on people? How much does that gig pay?"
"That's an anarchist. An archivist stores or retrieves documents for a company. It's quite tedious and there's very little spitting. Craig, follow him around for a while – out of sight. Do not approach him. I understand he's somewhat nervous and we don't want to upset him. He's perfectly safe. Take some pictures, find out where he goes when he's not working. Christophe, you go with Craig in the morning, but you're purely backup. And both of you, covert mission. Don't let Tweek see you, don't let this Elliot Bolton see you."
"I know ze meaning of covert mission," growled Christophe, lighting another cigarette.
Everyone looked meaningfully at Craig, who scowled under the scrutiny. "I'll be good. Get the pictures, get the details, don't be seen. I'm not gonna screw it up!"
"Kenny and I will join you just as soon as we're done here." Gregory got to his feet. "And if that's everything, I'll take my leave."
"See ya," said Kenny absently, picking up the nearest printout – details of Professor Chalmers academic career – and glancing through the information. Gregory shook his head slightly and left through the front door.
Craig reached across the table and snatched Christophe's cigarettes, looking defiant at the other man's glare. "I left mine in the other room!"
"One of zese days, I will quit and zen you will 'ave to buy your own."
"And I don't need a a babysitter either."
"I do not see 'ow ze two are related."
"Think of it this way," said Kenny. "If we do this right the first time, we can avert the apocalypse and have the whole of next weekend free!"
Craig glanced over at him. "And if we don't do it right the first time?"
"Well... we'll have to cancel the drunken house party and you know the strippers don't give the deposit back. But hey, it's still better than giant guinea pigs, right?"
With a smile, Craig nodded. "Anything's better than that. I'm gonna go sort out my cameras and stuff ready."
"I'm going to check on ze perimeter," said Christophe, getting up and heading out of the rear door. Craig seemed cheered and ready to get on with the mission without letting whatever personal bullshit was involved get in the way. Whatever the issues were, Kenny seemed to know something about them and he could get the details out of him later, but for now, there were some other questions he wanted to ask.
Skulking around the grounds their house was built on, Christophe carefully avoided the many traps that were lying in wait for the unwary. As far as most people knew, they were just a bunch of survivalist nuts, like their closest neighbours Jimbo and Ned, which accounted for the precautions. In actuality, they had made a lot of enemies and although none of those enemies knew enough to track them here, it never hurt to be careful. Kenny had insisted the precautions were non-lethal, which Christophe had to grudgingly admit was a good idea since all they had caught to date were a couple of kids, a few of their drunken friends and one time, Professor Chaos, although he'd gotten the wrong house.
The house was well lit but the surroundings were dark and Christophe made sure to keep it that way by avoiding the motion-sensitive lights. The night was quiet and there was nothing to see, nothing out of order – but he just knew that Gregory hadn't gone yet.
"Everything secure?"
Shit. He hated it when Gregory did that, spoke in the darkness and then allowed himself to be seen, looking as though he hadn't been hiding at all.
Sure enough, when Christophe turned, Gregory was leaning against one of only three trees on the property, as casually as if they had arranged the meeting. Which, he supposed, they had. He had expected to find Gregory still around and the other man was certainly expecting him.
"Why are we not merely finding zis Tweek and taking ze money?"
"Straight to the point." Gregory frowned slightly, as if musing on what to say next. "It's like I said, since Kyle mentioned the carvings specifically indicated both Tweek and South Park, it would be prudent to avoid trouble, if we can, and be compensated for it."
"Bool."
Gregory gave a one-shouldered shrug. "It's true. But since it's relevant, what do you know about Craig's more, uh, unfortunate history?"
"A little. Zere is gossip, it is a small town, but 'e 'as not spoken of it."
"Yes. Kenny attended school with both Craig and Tweek, so I imagine that's why he knows more on the subject. And of course, he has a way of getting information out of people without them realising it. I can't see it being a fond memory."
Christophe scowled. "Are you going to tell me or do I 'ave to beat it out of Kenny?"
Gregory flicked some imaginary dirt from his shirt sleeve. "Craig and Tweek have a history. At some point in high school they began a, uh..."
"Pounding ass?"
"Not what I was going to say, but thank you for the apropos phrase, if not the mental images. Anyway, they were discovered at the scene of a suspected arson attack, some abandoned house. Craig took the blame and spent three months in a juvenile facility. Tweek's family left town shortly after the incident, while Craig was still incarcerated."
Christophe pulled his cigarettes from his pocket and took one from the packet, mulling over the information while he lit up. It explained why Craig had been so freaked out by the thought of finding Tweek. "So, 'e took ze fall and zen 'e got dumped?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"No wonder 'e is pissed off." Christophe removed the cigarette from his mouth and let it smoulder between his fingers for a moment. "So, why would you allow Craig to be involved?"
"This is surveillance work, that's Craig's strong point."
"Me or Kenny could do it just as well."
"Perhaps, but Craig knows how Tweek thinks and that could be useful."
"Non. It 'as been years and 'e might 'ave changed. Also, Tweek is more likely to recognise Craig zen 'e is one of us, if 'e catches sight of ze surveillance. Zis isn't about ze best man for ze job."
Gregory raised an eyebrow, looking mildly amused. "No? What is it about then?"
"Either, it is to toughen 'im up and force 'im to set aside 'is emotions while 'e works, or you 'ave been watching too much of zose daytime talk shows zat Kenny likes so much." Christophe replaced the cigarette in his mouth and smirked around it. "You think 'e needs closure."
"I'm sure you could put more scorn into that word, if you really tried."
Christophe didn't reply, dropping his cigarette to the ground and stepping on it. Gregory paused for a moment to see if he would speak and when nothing was forthcoming, continued. "I need a team that isn't bogged down with personal issues when we work. This is a simple surveillance, I'm sure Craig can handle it without letting his past affect his judgement. And if he can't, it's better that we find out now rather than later. That's why I organised it this way."
"Uh-huh." Christophe's tone clearly indicated disbelief.
"It is!" insisted Gregory, then looked annoyed at his own defensiveness.
Christophe grinned, pleased with himself for breaking through Gregory's calm aura if only for a second. "I'm going to complete ze perimeter checks. Don't forget to set ze alarm on your way out."
He strolled off, pulling out another cigarette and smirking as he felt the irritated glare of his boss boring into his back.
