Part two
Chapter two
"So, what did the good doctor say?" Luther asked when another face joined the round at their usual corner table in the cafeteria.
Elaine had just come from her standing daily appointment with the head of IMF's medical section and slumped into an empty chair with her hands digging into the pockets of her sweater. "There seems to be no residual infection," she said with a pleased smile. "If the stitches hold, it should heal up in a week."
Benji almost inhaled his pasta and blinked in surprise. "Really?" he asked slightly incredulously.
"And then there's still a couple of weeks of rehab before I can even think of training again. But it's not as bad as it looked," Elaine said with a shrug. "Less bad than being stabbed anyway, all the nerves and sinews are intact. I guess I should be glad that the asshole knew what he was doing," she added bitterly.
"Did you know that Dr. Lee's first name is Yumi?" Skye asked into the silence as it threatened to become awkward.
"Lee has a first name?" Benji asked even more astonished than before.
Luther wasn't convinced as easily. "Who told you that, kid?"
Skye nodded at Elaine and the other woman seemed to sink back into her chair when everyone looked at her.
"You're on a first name basis with Dr. Lee?" Luther asked.
Elaine shrugged awkwardly. "I worked as an intern in the infirmary for a couple of years when I first came to IMF." She stopped obviously relieved when another person neared their table and Benji waved her over.
"Hi, Jane," he grinned at Agent Carter who took a seat at the edge of their circle. "I think you haven't met Elaine yet?"
The two women nodded at each other in greeting. Bray had heard both Benji's and Brandt's accounts of the Ghost Protocol mission and Elaine had already had a certain fame around the lower levels which had slowly spread throughout IMF HQ, especially since the Oslo mission.
"How are you doing?" Skye asked at her obviously tired appearance.
"Well, it's midnight in Japan, and we only landed an hour ago," Jane commented with a grimace and took a sip from her coffee. "How was the conference?"
"Well," Benji started, but then shut his mouth again. Uneasily he looked over to Elaine.
"That kinda blew up in our faces," Bray stated deadpan, then smiled at another new arrival. "So your office hasn't eaten you yet?"
Brandt returned her smile as he sat down opposite of her. He caught her eyes and static seemed to crackle in the silence between them, then he lowered his gaze and took a long sip of his coffee. "Hi, Jane, how was Osaka?"
"Not as interesting as here, apparently," Carter replied and cast a suspicious glance around the table. "Where is Ethan?"
"He and Hunley were kidnapped two days ago," Luther answered.
"You're kidding," Jane replied and looked around the table for confirmation.
Brandt bit his lip and shook his head. "They attacked the armored convoy and killed seven of our security people in the process. And then they disappeared into the sewer," he explained. "And so far our only leads are an old contact who allegedly called Hunley that morning and that they seem to be after someone or something codenamed 'Morpheus'."
"What about that contact?" Skye asked. "Do we have anything more on that?"
"I had a look at Hunley's phone record for the morning three days ago, to see if I can find something about that mysterious contact of his," Brandt sighed. "There is only one call that fits the timing. From a burner phone that has since been deactivated and which last was logged near the station. To his office line."
"So another dead end," Luther summed up.
"More or less," the analyst admitted. "It's just weird that they called his office directly, without even going through the switchboard. There's maybe five people who have that number."
"Then, how did he get that number?" Elaine asked.
Brandt shrugged and turned to Benji. "Anything new on your end?"
"We put a trace on the secretary's mobile and Ethan's," the techie sighed. "But either they're switched off or off the grid. The last ping was at the airport."
"We also looked at footage from every camera that's near a big enough access point to the sewage system," Luther added. "But so far we're drawing a blank there, too."
"It's like they just disappeared into thin air," Benji complained.
"If they went into the sewer they have to get out again," Jane put in. "Or they're still down there."
"Even so, by now they could be anywhere," Skye added.
"Shouldn't this be a case for the FBI?" Carter asked. "Or Homeland?"
"The other agencies don't like us very much recently," Benji replied with a grimace.
"Also the kidnappers had inside information and they could have had it from any agency," Brandt said. "But I think I'll still call Brassel. It would help if we could discretely tap into some of Homeland's resources. And maybe he knows something about this Morpheus." He picked up his mug and drained it, then stood up. "I better get onto that."
"Do you have any idea what Morpheus is?" Jane asked.
"We think it's a codename, probably from Hunley's time in the CIA," Skye answered. "It's not ours, as far as we can tell. I couldn't find anything in the archives, not the digitalized ones at least. I'm on the analog stuff, but to be honest I doubt anything dating that far back is relevant."
"And short of cracking their servers we're not gonna get into their files," Luther commented, then caught Benji's glance. "Oh, no."
"It's not like it's never been done before," Benji shrugged. "Also we just need the archives, nothing too classified. And we still have their access codes..."
"If they find out, Brandt will kill us," Luther answered sourly.
"Then we'll just make sure they don't," Benji replied, grinning happily in anticipation of the challenge. He gave Skye a quick kiss before he got up. "See you later."
Luther also stood up. "I better keep an eye on him."
"And I think I'll get some sleep after all," Jane decided, stifling a yawn. She picked up her empty mug and left the table that suddenly felt very empty.
"Skye?" Elaine suddenly asked into the silence. Although she wouldn't have claimed they knew each other particularly well, the Dane would have said they were friends, but now Bray sounded weirdly shy. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure," Skye replied and moved one seat over to bridge the gap between them.
"You and Benji," she asked tentatively, "when did you know that you're, like, together?"
Skye blinked, taken aback. Then she decided that the cafeteria wasn't the place for that kind of conversation. "You know what," she said. "Let's see if there's some cake left in the office."
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
The office Skye worked in when she helped out in Extractions between missions was a shared space for three people, but luckily the two analysts also working there were both not present. They made a detour via the small office kitchen where she had left some leftovers in the morning and she salvaged two large pieces of caramel cheesecake.
Back in the office, Skye pulled over one of her colleagues' chairs, then pushed the small stack of papers on her own desk aside so they would have space to eat.
"Skye T?" Elaine asked quietly.
Skye looked up, taken aback, a glint of confusion and hurt in her eyes.
"It says there..." Bray pointed at a paper, then looked down sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I didn't know you had a middle name."
Skye swallowed. "It's fine, just - unexpected. Someone used to call me that. Back in the day," she replied with a reminiscent smile. She cleared her throat, then she sat down and got back to business. "Now, what's bothering you?"
"It's Will," Bray explained, listlessly stabbing at the cake with her spoon. "Since I'm back, every time we're together it's like there's this giant elephant in the room. Like there's something he's not telling me. But probably I'm just overreacting."
She stopped her own rambling with an apologetic smirk and almost absentmindedly put the spoon-full of cake into her mouth. Then she looked up at the other agent wide-eyed and swallowed visibly. "You made that?"
"I grew up in a bakery," Skye replied with an amused smile. She had forgotten that Elaine had never eaten any of her cake before, but she was used to similar reactions from people who weren't used to Danish pastries. "Why don't you just ask him?"
"I tried that," Elaine answered dryly, digging into her cake with Benji-esque appetite. "I could be overreacting and things have been pretty busy, but it feels almost like he's avoiding me. Or at least avoiding talking to me. Then again we never said we're a thing."
She sighed and stared at the suddenly empty cake plate. "I just don't know what to do. I've never been in a relationship like this before," she grimaced, aware that now she was probably whining. But she did need to tell someone about this. "I mean I wouldn't be happy if he's seeing someone else. And I don't really think it's that, but why can't he just tell me what's going on?"
"You should talk to him," Skye decided. "Tell him how you feel."
"But I don't even know how I feel," Elaine complained with a grimace.
Skye scratched the last of the fudge off her plate, then leaned back in her chair. "Firstly I think Brandt cares more about you than you realize," she said. For a moment she contemplated how much to tell but then decided to go all out. "He was in bad shape when you were gone and worked around the clock to find you. The last couple of days have been really tough for him and I think he's probably just as confused as you are and hasn't had time to sort out his feelings yet."
Elaine frowned. "So I just wait?"
Skye shrugged. "You could talk to him," she replied. "You're in this together, so you'll have an easier time resolving it together."
"Alright," Elaine grumbled. "But how am I gonna talk to him if he won't talk to me?"
"You just have to make the first move," Skye pointed out. "Come on, you're a trained field agent. And he's into you. It's not that hard."
Elaine looked unsure. "You know there's a reason it took me three tries to get through field training once?"
"Just ask him to drive you home," Skye suggested. "And then ask him in for a drink."
The other agent grimaced. "I don't exactly have a home place."
Holt looked back at her incredulously. "Then where do you live?"
"Here mostly. I have a so called office downstairs and put a bed into it," Elaine shrugged. "Back when I first worked for the IMF, they gave me a flat in town, but that kinda got lost when the CIA took over. I'm sure I officially got a new place now, but I haven't bothered to check yet."
"I see," Skye replied thoughtfully, then a conspiratorial smile crept into her face. "I guess you just have to ask him out."
Elaine looked less than happy.
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Alan Hunley woke up with a feeling like his head was bursting. He sat up with a jolt and only relaxed when he found there was no immediate danger. It had been some time since he had been active in the CIA, but he found his reflexes were still as sharp as ever.
"Sir?" a familiar voice asked a few meters to his left, the only other person in the room.
"Hunt," the secretary acknowledged the agent's presence. He massaged his temples until the throbbing headache started to fade. "Where are we?"
"I don't know," the other man admitted. Their voices were echoing off the high walls and somewhere in a corner, there was a constant dripping sound of water on stone.
Hunley looked up and around. They were in a stone-walled room of roughly fifty by fifty feet length. Moss was growing in every crevice and on damp spots on the floor. Thin beams of light were falling in from above through what seemed to be holes in the roof, but they were too far away to make out details.
His hands were held together by handcuffs that were secured to the floor with an iron chain. He carefully tested his restraints but they were bolted to the stone and there was no obvious weak point. The chains were barely long enough to let him stand up straight.
Hunt was sitting a few meters over, secured in a similar fashion. He was seemingly relaxed, leaning back against the wall, hands on his knees, but Hunley knew he was probably thinking hard about how to get them out of their current situation. Suddenly he snapped out of his thoughts and looked over at the secretary. "Sir, who is Morpheus?"
"I'm not sure this is the right time..." Hunley started but was immediately interrupted.
"Sir," Ethan said pointedly. "I'm here to protect you. And I want to get you out of here alive, but to do that, I need to know what's going on."
Hunley sighed. It hadn't gone past him how the agent had singled him out, putting the secretary's life above his own. And he was probably right. Hunt was after all just one agent and it was part of his job to put his life on the line, whereas he had to run the whole goddamn agency. But that didn't mean he had to be proud of it.
"Morpheus was a contact," he explained. "Back in '94 when I was an agent with the CIA. He was never official..."
The secretary stopped when a heavy door on the other side of the room opened with a creaking sound. Three persons stepped in. Their features were hard to discern in the gloomy light, but the first one who clearly was in charge was a woman. Despite the dim lighting scars were casting sharp shadows over her face, making it look like a cracked marble statue.
"Special Agent Alan Hunley." She stopped right in front of the secretary. Her accent was a sharp variant of British. "You're older than I thought."
"And you are?" Hunley asked back.
"I guess I shouldn't hold it against you that you don't remember me," the woman replied and leaned down until their faces almost touched. "Maybe you would if my face was still as pretty as it was eighteen years ago."
Hunley didn't flinch. "What do you want?"
The woman stood up again with a long sigh. "It's not that hard actually," she said patronizingly. "I only want to know where Morpheus is, and if you tell me I can let you go back to your cozy little office instead of having you sit around in this cold and ugly dungeon."
"I don't know," the secretary replied unwaveringly.
"See, that's the thing," the woman said, drawing her face into a wolfish grin that made her scars dig in, so her cheeks looked like moon craters. "When your little helper said that, I guess she was right. But from you, I just can't believe it."
She waved at the two men behind her and they walked over to Ethan, effectively shielding the agent from Hunley's view. There was a metallic click and a heavy, sickening thud. When one of the men stepped aside Hunt was lying on the floor, the other man kneeling on his back, securing his arms.
"You have known Morpheus for years and you are – were – the director of the CIA. You can't tell me you didn't keep taps on your assets," the scarred woman continued. "But maybe you just need some incentive to jog your memory."
There was a suffocated groan from Ethan when his arm was twisted against the shoulder in a way that it wasn't designed for. Then it stopped when the door was opened loudly and everyone turned to the source of the noise.
"Boss," a voice said out of the dark. "We've got incoming."
"Good timing," the leader smirked.
There was another thud and Ethan collapsed to the floor, unconscious. Then the two men who had been busy with him came over to Hunley. They disconnected the handcuffs from the chain on the floor and dragged him out of the room after their boss.
