A/N: Dedicated to Love Trunks who asked me to update but wasn't pushy about it J
"You ready?" Matt whispered to Scott as they crouched down besides an industrial-waste bin at the rear wall of the warehouse.
Scott nodded, his body tense, his eyes alert, "Let's go."
Matt nodded in response before turning to face the door. It was industrial-strength titanium with a massive padlock holding it shut. Frowning in concentration, Matt pictured pushed on the pressure points in the whole and forced the padlock to open up, almost quicker than it would have done if they had a key. He then slowly eased the door open with his hands, careful to ensure that it didn't scrape or creak against anything.
Glancing at Scott, he gestured the boy to follow him as he lead the way into the building. It was entirely modern; silver and sterile, the light from the bulbs crossing the ceiling in rows reflecting so brightly it stung their eyes. There was a staircase up the left-hand side of the room that they climbed quietly, pausing at the closed door to listen for anyone on the inside.
"Is it locked?" Scott whispered in Matt's ear.
Matt shook his head, gently easing open the door, one millimetre at a time until there was a crack big enough for him to put his eye to and look. He saw no one, just another long corridor stretching out in front of them. Matt gestured to Scott again before abruptly shoving the door open and running forward. Moments later, Scott joined him, as he had to close the door behind them.
They passed several more doors, this time simple wooden ones, as they searched, pausing to listen at each one to see if anyone was inside before taking a look. They passed more storage rooms, two closets and a security room filled with camera's that, thankfully, only showed the main entrance and exit routes and not the side door they had infiltrated through. The guard sitting in front of all the monitors had earphones in and so didn't notice them enter and exit.
Suddenly voices echoed up the corridor towards them from behind the next door, getting closer as they listened. Matt nearly tripped over his own feet as Scott seized his arm and dragged him back down the corridor, opening the last closet they passed and pulling Matt inside with him, almost slamming the door shut.
He appeared to have done so just in the nick of time as footsteps could be heard in the hallway, coming towards them. Matt turned to Scott and tapped his arm to get his attention. When the brown-eyed boy glanced up, Matt pointed to the closed door, then at Scott, then tapped his temple. Despite having to squint in the dark to see what the first of the five was doing, Scott nodded and closed his eyes, concentrating. Matt put his ear to the door to listen. The newcomers appeared to be two men from the sounds of their voices, but the wooden door was thick and muffled them so well that Matt couldn't make out what they were saying.
As the sounds faded, Matt felt Scott jerk on his arm. Glancing back, he saw Scott gesturing for him to open the door. They both clambered out, wincing simultaneously when some bottles of cleaning products that Scott had displaced when he jumped into the closet came crashing down to the assorted buckets and mops on the floor, loudly.
They paused, but no one came running. Matt turned to Scott, "Any idea where to go?"
"There's an office just up ahead and to the left," Scott murmured, "that's all they knew that seemed likely."
Matt nodded and held his arm out, indicating for Scott to lead the way. About five minutes later, they reached a large oak door with a polished gold handle and a plaque reading, "Warehouse Manager" on the front.
Scott quickly searched to see if there was a mind in there, but it was empty, so he reached out to the handle and tried to turn it. It was either jammed, or locked. Matt made a shooing motion with his hand and, as Scott stepped out of the way, pushed at the obstruction with his mind. It opened easily.
The inside of the office was a marked difference to the rest of the building. It was painted a deep red, with several abstract paintings dotted along the high walls and housed three plush armchairs; two in front of the large, antique-looking desk and one behind it. Matt headed towards the desk and began rifling through the draws whilst Scott went to the opposite wall and did the same with the two steel filing cabinets.
"How long have we got left?" Scott asked in an undertone as he closed the first drawer and started on the next one.
Matt glanced at his watch. Tarrant had only guaranteed them half an hour, and that was only if the operation went smoothly from the beginning. "'Bout eighteen minutes."
It soon became clear that there was nothing in the desk, so Matt headed over to the third filing cabinet to help Scott out, as the American boy began on the second one. As he did, he noticed that one of the paintings was hanging crooked. A niggling doubt filled his mind and he quickly walked over to the painting, lightly easing it away from the wall it hung on. A small thrill of triumph went through him as it revealed a wall safe which he soon wrenched from the wall. The noise as the metal tore itself apart was incredibly grating and surprisingly loud, causing both boys to flinch.
Scott, abandoning the third filling cabinet raced over to Matt's side, "What are you doing? Someone's gonna hear us!"
"If it's in a safe it's got to be important!" Matt hissed as he put the heavy door down on the floor briefly. Taking a look inside the safe, he saw a bulky black box, almost as big as the safe itself. Easing it out slowly, he reached to open it.
"Not so subtle, are we, boys?"
Dropping the box in shock, both boys turned to the sneering, somewhat familiar man who stood in the middle of the room, the door wide open and six guards standing behind him. Before Matt could do anything his whole body exploded with pain and he was knocked off his feet. Scott turned in shock before recognising, with horror, the long wires trailing from the dart-like thing on Matt's chest to the gun in the mystery man's hand. A Tasar gun.
'Where the hell did they get that?' Scott thought as he lunged down to picked Matt up, leaning his weight against his shoulder to steady him. Then, in a sudden moment of clarity, he remembered that Tarrant told them he would ensure their undercover inspector would be armed.
'So they've already got to him,' Scott realised grimly.
As soon as Matt hit the ground, the guards had rushed forward, one seizing hold of Matt as Scott stood again and dragging him free of Scott's grasp, two more tackling the American teenager to the ground. He felt cold metal on his wrists and knew he'd been handcuffed. As he was hauled to his feet, he saw one of the remaining men come forward with a black blindfold, which they then bound over Matt's eyes as two others held him between them.
"Make sure he can't see a thing," the first man said, as he removed the end of the Tasar from Matt's chest, "we don't want him using his powers once he's regained control of himself."
'Damn it!' Matt thought. With a sinking heart, he knew these men had been prepared; if he couldn't see, he couldn't attack them.
Matt and Scott had both of their arms seized by a guard and were dragged out of the room.
XXXXX
"We're doomed."
"Oh really, Matt? Now what gave you that idea?" Scott drawled sarcastically, trying to keep the circulation of his blood in his arms despite the tight shackles. "Was it the fact that they killed the cop? Or because we're currently chained to a wall?"
"Not helping, Scott."
Strictly speaking, Matt and Scott were only attached to the wall by a thin chain that seemed more appropriate to use as a leash for a dog. They were actually tied back-to-back with an industrial-strength steel chain and handcuffs for good measure. Needlessly to say, the operation had been a complete and utter failure – the inspector who had gone in as their cover had been killed as soon as the door had closed behind him. Now the two sat where they were, in one of the empty storage rooms they had passed on the way to the office, awaiting their captors to come in and decide what to do with them.
"Can you get these chains of?" Scott asked, rattling them for extra emphasis.
"No, I've still got this stupid blindfold on, remember?"
"Yeah, I know, you can't see 'em, but you can feel them. Will that help?" Scott suggested impatiently.
Matt paused for a moment, then said, "Maybe. I've never tried before and these chains are pretty strong. Besides, we don't know how long it'll take or when they're going to come back."
"Try with the handcuffs first."
"Okay." Taking a deep breath, Matt focus on the feel of the cold metal digging into his skin. As he predicted, it was a lot harder than if he could see it, especially as his arms were twisted behind his back. A few minutes later, however, a small click was heard and, when he wiggled his right wrist, he found that it had come loose.
"Did you do it?" Scott asked, trying to contain his hope and agitation.
"I got one hand loose."
"Okay, that's a good start."
Taking the hint, Matt focused on the other one. It happened quicker this time and he shook both hands loose. The two boys were pressed so closely together that the handcuffs stayed lodged against Scott's back. Twisting a little, Matt felt around until his fingers touched the pair clasped around Scott's wrists and began to concentrate.
That was broken, however, when the door flew open. "Hello, boys. Comfy?"
"Did you come in here just to gloat?" Scott snarled. Reaching back, he tapped Matt's hands, silently urging him to carry on. With any luck, Scott would be able to keep the man talking until they were both free.
"Well, yes." The man conceded, a horrible smirk twisting his face. "It's been a while, Scott."
Scott frowned, "Do I know you?"
"You don't remember me? I'm hurt." The man leant closer, bringing his face within a centimetre of Scott's, his stale breath fanning onto the boy's face. "Let me refresh your memory; a few months ago, you took a little trip to a place called Silent Creek, yes?"
All the blood drained out of Scot's face as the memories hit him; pressed against the American the way he was, Matt could feel his back go tense, feel his muscles move as his breathing became heavier. He was frightened.
Matt managed to get one half of Scott's handcuffs off and desperately tried to calm his mind so he could release the other half and then work on the chain; but it was really hard to do when he could sense Scott panicking behind him.
"Ah, now you remember, don't you?" the vile man said, leaning in to whisper in Scott's ear, he was very quiet, but Matt could still hear every word. "You remember what I did to you, child? Remember how I reached into your mind and twisted it until it wasn't yours anymore? It still isn't, is it? You can still feel what I did, lingering inside of you. And do you remember when Mr Banes left us all alone together? Do you remember my hands on you . . ."
Black rage welled up inside of Matt, so deep and powerful it overwhelmed him, like a river bursting during a flood. The final cuff and the chain blew themselves apart, the horrible man howling in pain as shrapnel flew into his face, a piece catching him in the eye. Matt launched himself to his feet, tearing off the blindfold as the door once again flew open and the guards from before barged in.
The Tasar gun once again threatened him, but as the dart fired, Matt found himself abruptly thrown to the ground. Scott had tackled Matt to the ground, the end of the Tasar just missing his arm. From his position on the floor, Matt narrowed his eyes and pushed a wall of energy at the guards. All six of them crashed into the opposite wall, some dazed and others writhing in pain, the impact having broken several bones.
The two boys picked themselves up and sprinted out of the room, Matt reaching down to scoop up the black box from the safe that one of the guards had apparently been safe-holding as they passed him.
A/N: Hope it was okay!
