WARNING:- *In the voice of Dermot O'Leary * Your action-fix-fight starts right here!

(If you don't know who Derm is, search him, he's the presenter of the UK version of X-Factor and his catchphrase is 'Your Saturday night starts right here!" so it would be better if this was posted tomorrow night... but ah well, who wants to wait?)

Thanks to:

* KKCopper *

* 2whitie *

* Steinbock *

* tech17 *

for the reviews :) Here is your reward of a nice big, badass-Butler filled chapter with a title to make a lisper spit :)

CHAPTER TEN - Stories, Saviours and Stockholm Syndrome

Flashback

Butler could only stare as the cab drove away, much more readily than it had stopped, red tail-lights winking into the distance. Well, 'could only' wasn't exactly true and he considered for a second how easy it would be to sprint after it and leap onto the back. But his uncle would merely force him to get off and he would be no closer to home than he was now.

Actually, he would be further away if he thought about it.

He knew exactly where they would be going. They wouldn't want the taxi-driver clicking who they were. They'd be dropped off at one of the safe-houses. Pick up a car there and then head back to the manor. The decoy address was at least 25 miles away from the manor, and right now he was around 9 away from the latter. If he ran over the fields, that was. So all he had to do was beat the taxi driver's journey time, then however long it took to get the car ready, then The Major's drive time back to Fowl Manor. There was a very fair chance that The Major would not stick to a speed below fifty on the empty country lanes, but Butler could always hope for a late night tractor trundling along and blocking their way.

Shaking canal water out of his ears, he leapt a hedge and set off at a jog across the boggy fields.

Carker, was in the back of a police car. He'd glimpsed them taking Drake away in a van, fully conscious now, or at least awake enough to need cuffing and guarding by two burly-looking police officers. Both security teams had also been arrested and Carker was hoping that Fowl's team would start squealing. If they mentioned their employer, then the other man would be investigated too. But all of the men knew The Major and his nephew. And they weren't about to mess with that pair.

As it was, Carker had been a wanted man in connection with a crime involving the mysterious disappearance of several thousand pounds from a fund to raise money for a new set of mayoral chains after someone else had stolen the first pair. The town's mayor had annoyed Carker, the theft was simply an amusement to him, yet it was this out of all his past crimes, that he had been pulled for this time. Ridiculous.

At least his lawyers would find getting him out easy. And hopefully Drake too. Having lost his gun somewhere upstairs, the police had only taken him in for the other offensive weaponry the any good bodyguard carried on a daily basis. The man had licenses for them all and the lack of Butlers to charge him for assault meant that soon enough the Police would have to release him under the grounds that they didn't really have anything to hold him for. Except perhaps involvement in the mayoral chains incident...

Carker bounced his cuffs off his knee. He'd have a lot of waiting around to do. But that was ok. It just gave him more time to plot his revenge...

Forty odd minuets later, Butler's palms hit the rough stone of the manor wall. He hadn't heard an engine or wheels in a good while and was faintly hopeful as he opened the side gate with the appropriate code, locked it again and jogged across the gravel to the delivery door.

Mud was coating his trouser legs, adding at least an extra kilogram to the weight he was already carrying but he hardly noticed. On days when she wasn't in the best of moods, Madam Ko used to make them jog in wet jeans and lead boots back at the Academy.

He keyed in the code at the next keypad and practically fell through the door, hoping to get in before one of the chef's woke up and went mad at him for the mess that was dripping off him. Not that that would bother him, but it would certainly bother Missus Fowl if her favourite cook quit due to being 'threatened in the workplace'

He breathed in warm air for the first time in well over an hour, the sharp contrast making him cough.

"I should make you hose yourself down outside before you come traipsing in here, boy," said an annoying familiar voice. "Ko would."

Butler looked up, already knowing what he would see. His uncle was sat at the staff-kitchen's table with a newspaper and mug of hot tea. He'd even had time to wash and change - which wasn't that surprising since any Butler worth their salt could wash, change and be back ready for action in less than four minutes, but still...

"You didn't stick to the speed limit," Butler stated, opening a cupboard he knew held old towels most often used to clean the kitchen floor. Normal people would use them for cars, but The Major refused to allow such rags to touch the paintwork of his precious fleet of automobiles. Particularly his favourite, for which The Major had bought an entire set of luxury bath-towels to clean.

"And you ran a..." The Major checked his watch. "5 minuet mile. Or there abouts. That's not so nippy for you now, is it?"

"Cows," Butler said bluntly, grabbing a towel from the cupboard and drying the mixture of sweat, dubious 'mud' splatter and what was left of the canal water off his face before leaning on the wall and starting to untie his boots through the layer of mud. They were going to need a complete scrub down and polish and as for the shrike throwing knives, well they would have to be polished to perfection if he didn't want them to start suffering rust damage.

"Cows?"

"Yup. Lots of pretty damn furious cows," Butler grunted, pulling off one boot and ignoring the amount of crap that ended up on the floor. The kitchen wasn't his domain. And quite frankly, 'unlucky' to whoever had to clean it up. The kitchen staff didn't care when they stupidly left the delivery door un-alarmed, like they probably had done tonight - unless The Major had turned the security measure off to let him in, so why should he care about their stupid floor hygiene? Did it matter that much? If they were dropping food on the floor or putting their feet in the dishes then maybe but...

"So that added what? A minute? You're not fooling me boy, I reckon you need a bit more running in your training routine."

"I had to detour round them. Bad terrain," Butler knew the excuse would fall on deaf ears but it was true. There had been a herd of heifers that had taken a severe aversion to his sprinting through their territory in the middle of the night and he had been forced to take a detour. It had been a large herd. Any less of them, or perhaps if it had been daylight enough for them to see that he was not in the mood to be trampled over, he might have taken them on.

As it was, his sense of direction had led him through a field that might have been beautiful on another night. An old oak leant over a twisted river and if he had looked close enough he might have seen a heat-haze-like shimmer near its base...

But Butler didn't much care about the tree or the river after he had leapt over it. The detour had meant he had to run over another couple of fields, a bog and a stile, adding at least another half-a-mile to his jog and forcing him to slow down and assess his best route through the wide expanse of wet mud or risk sinking knee-deep into it and having to crawl out.

"Go get washed up," The Major said, still looking most amused at the way his little prank had worked out.

"I'm going, I'm going," Butler muttered, trudging out of the room with his boots hanging by the laces from one hand.

Soon he was warmer, drier and smelling considerably better as he headed into the room the Butlers used for cleaning things. This included clothing, boots, weaponry etc and, usually, the various minor injuries they had received whilst dirtying the clothes, boots, weaponry etc.

He had put his boots on a rack to dry, planning to brush the worst of the mud off later, and was sorting out the split knuckles he had only noticed when he had scrubbed enough mud off his hands to make the soap sting the cuts. The vast first aid kit was laid out over the wooden table and he was rubbing the raw flesh with a mixture of disinfectant and alcohol to, hopefully, lessen the chance of him catching tetanus from the bacteria in the mud that had probably entered his bloodstream by now anyway, when there was a small knock at the door.

"Yes?"

"It's me," Juliet said, poking her head round the door and creeping in. "What're you doing? Uncle said you fell in a canal."

"Yup. It's late - why are you up?"

"I came to check if you hurt yourself."

"I don't hurt myself, Jules, things just like to try to hurt me."

"And people do too, eh bro?" Juliet laughed, hoiking herself up onto the edge of the table. "Uncle mentioned a bloke you beat up."

"Did he now?" Butler muttered, poking at what appeared to be a loose bit of bone.

Fantastic. Bits of my knuckles falling off. Just what I needed... not.

The cut didn't even look deep enough to be showing more than a glimmer of white and he wondered, as he poked at the chip, what the hell he'd done that on.

"Whatcha doing?" Juliet repeated.

"I'm cleaning the shit out of my knuckles."

"Well duh. Whatcha split 'em on?"

"You know that bloke you said uncle mentioned?"

"Yeah. Well no, not personally, but go on."

"His face," Butler shrugged, poking at something with a set of tweezers from the kit.

"Eww, Dom, gross! That's bone!"

"Yeah... I think you're right there..."

"Well I think it's meant to stay in there," Juliet winced as he picked at it.

"It doesn't hurt," Butler assured her.

"Correction. It knackers. You just don't have any pain receptors. Now put it back you idiot, it's part of your hand - you might need it someday!"

"Not this bit."

"What? Why?"

"Because I think it's a bit of tooth, actually..."

He finally picked out the shard and held it up to the light. It was definitely bone, but judging by the lack of serious discomfort when he flexed his fist, it wasn't a misplaced part of his skeleton.

"Cooool," Juliet gasped, awestruck. "You punched some dude in the face hard enough to stick his tooth in your hand? That. Is. Awesome, bro!"

"Yeah," Butler said nonchalantly, mouth twitching at the corners.

"Can I keep it?"

"What?" the smirk turned into a slight frown. "Why would you...?"

"Like a souvenir?"

"Of what? No you can't you strange child!" Butler laughed at her as she whined in disappointment.

The door opened again and The Major walked in, placing a can of Coca-Cola on the desk.

"Drink up. There's some serious amounts of crap in canal water."

You think? Butler thought as he opened it and took a few gulps, knowing that the liquid would kill pretty much any bacteria he had swallowed in his little dip.

"What have you there?" their uncle asked interestedly, as Juliet poked at the tooth fragment with the tweezers.

"Bit of tooth," she explained. "And Dom won't let me keep it."

"What on earth would you want to keep it for, girl?" The Major asked, raising his eyebrows.

"As a souvenir-y thing," Juliet sighed at the stupidity of her male relatives. Obviously. Why couldn't they understand that a bit of actual-person-your-big-brother-beat-up was something worthy of being stuck in her scrap book?

"Of what?" The Major asked, then turning to his nephew. "Is it yours?

"Nope," Butler said, showing off his own full set in a grin. "Drake's."

"Nice hit," The Major nodded approvingly, walking over to the door. "Oh and Dom? We'll go halves on the suits. Technically the explosion was my fault."

"Thanks," Butler smiled again, not caring how his uncle got to that conclusion, when normally he could find a way to excuse himself from any amount of blame.

"It's only fair," The Major shrugged as he left the room.

"There was an explosion?" Juliet jabbered excitedly. "You have to tell me about it!

Her brother sighed, glancing at his watch.

"Jules... its half past one in the morning..."

"Aww, pweeeease?" she begged. "You used to tell me bedtime stories about you and uncle's adventures..."

"Fine," Butler sighed. "But only if you promise not to try to re-enact it this time..."

Juliet grinned, grabbing a clean towel from the side and wrapping it around herself like a blanket as she sat on one of the wooden chairs. Butler realised she wanted this story to take some time, but he was tired. He tried to cut it shorter.

"There was this office and then..."

"Tell me from the beginning!"

Butler sighed again. He wasn't going to get away with a five minute recollection then. But looking at the excitement shining in his little sister's eyes, he wasn't sure he wanted to cut the story short after all. He pushed the first aid kit away from the edge of the table and leant back on his chair.

"Well, it all started when Mr. Fowl had an idea about me and uncle infiltrating this guy Carker's business as new bodyguards for him..."

Present

True to their word, the Butler's were up early.

Dawn hadn't even broken when they left, leaving the keys and a few notes of money on the beside-table as payment for the four and a half hours they had spent in the room. They opened the window as far as it would go in order to squeeze themselves out. The placement of the room, completely by fluke, backed onto the rear of the building where a boundary wall lay just a few metres below the window, saving them the trouble of jumping the two stories.

Butler went first, hanging by his fingertips from the windowsill and hoping the technique would prove more successful than it had during the canal-bridge incident. He lowered himself lightly onto the top of the garden wall and leapt onto the pavement on the other side. The Major followed with just as much uncharacteristic grace.

Once the pair had dropped down onto the street, they paused to get their bearings, then set of at a jog towards their next destination. Of course, they couldn't be certain they were going to the right place, but, as The Major had said, it wasn't as if they had anywhere else to start looking.

They kept at a steady pace, clocking the names and layout of roads to check they were still heading in the right direction. Both wanted to go faster, and would if they were certain of the end point. Or if the finishing line wasn't so likely to involve a rough -up they'd need their energy for.

It took a few pauses to ascertain the best route but eventually the sign for 'The Golden Yule' loomed into view.

"You take it from here," The Major said quietly, and Butler flicked back through his memory to what route he had taken to the take-away. The normally unfazed Artemis had been welling-up on the back seat, Juliet next to him had been taking worried glances at her brother's charge and at one point squeezed his hand. And then, instead of heading straight to the manor, he had turned left.

They slowed as they spotted the closed takeaway with the damaged, unlit sign, faintly stating the name 'The Dragon Bowl'.

The Butlers paused on the opposite side of the street, catching their breath and trying to appear as though they were simply two heedless citizens out for an early morning stroll. Be that a very early morning stroll. A cheery bell alerted them to the danger and they stepped back into the shadows of an alley almost opposite the building.

The sun broke over the horizon suddenly, glancing off puddles in the road and turning them into golden mirrors. The door to the closed take-away opened fully, and a man stepped out, raising a hand to shield his eyes. He fumbled with something, and soon a faint trail of smoke wound its way into the sky.

"Right. At least one guard, but we can be pretty certain there's more inside," The Major muttered, taking out his gun and checking it was ready for action.

Butler nodded. "Plan?"

"Well, we could take that idiot out and see who comes to help for starters. I know I'd rather they came out to us than we went into their lair."

Butler's head twitched in agreement but he was squinted at the man's features, illuminated by the sunlight. Immediately he recognised the cruel features of the man who had hit his charge. He pulled a cap out of his pocket and nodded again more fiercely. "May I?"

The Major looked at the man at the door and felt no pity for what he was about to allow to happen.

"Be my guest, nephew," The Major cocked and eyebrow at the obvious restrained anger. "I'll cover you. And if you can help it, no bodies please."

He didn't need to warn his nephew to control his emotions, the man knew well enough and as he stepped out of the shadows The Major saw him settle into the faux-relaxed mode they were trained to sink into before a fight. He drew his gun, levelling it at the doorway. Nothing was coming through that without him taking care of it.

Butler focussed on the job, bending the baseball-cap over his brow to shadow his face and, casually leaving one hand behind his back, strolled across the road.

"Hey mate. Got a light?" he called once the man started eyeing him suspiciously.

The man said nothing, but pulled a lighter from his pocket once Butler got within a few paces. He needed to get rid of this idiot as soon as possible. The first two of the team had arrived, which mean it wasn't long now and the boss would be back. He held it out to the stranger.

"Here," he said, hoping the huge bloke would trundle on his way if he simply gave him what he asked for. He didn't have time for trouble. He tried to get a look at his face, a sinking sensation hitting him as he realised he should have probably been more cautious with anyone anything over 6ft considering who they were dealing with.

Too late.

"Thanks," Butler said coldly, his dark eyes glinting in the rays that pierced the shadows cast by the cap. "But you know smoking's bad for your health, right?"

It certainly was. Or rather, going outside for a fag rather than staying inside nice and safe and away from Butlers was.

Butler grabbed the man's hand in his own, squeezing so hard that the lighter's casing cracked, spilling flammable fluid over the man's crushed hand. He tried to yell but the Butler dragged the guy by his arm towards him in a swift movement and brought his shoulder into his enemies face, using his other hand to squeeze the pressure point on the man's neck. Letting go of his crushed fingers and bringing back his fist, Butler felt no small satisfaction at the crunch the contact between his knuckles and the man's nose made during the unnecessary punch. The man was out cold with barely a shout.

Still, there was movement behind the door and Butler stepped to one side of it, shielded by the newspaper covering the window. The door swung inwards and he swung an elbow with it, a second after the bell rang. The joint hit cartilage and the man on the receiving end fell to the floor in a crumpled heap.

Two noses in ten seconds, not bad.

Butler held the door open with a foot to stop the bell chiming for a third time and stayed where he was until his uncle gave him the thumbs up and strode over to them quickly. He stepped over the man on the floor cautiously.

"Nice work."

The younger nodded and they entered the door carefully. The room was empty, but the section of countertop that allowed staff to pass between the diner-area and the kitchens was up. It smelt of greasy fast food, nevertheless, both Butlers' unfed stomachs growled at appreciatively. But it hadn't even been 24 hours since their last meal and Academy training alone involved four days without food. Both of these blue-diamonds had gone hungry for well over a week before now.

"We need to drag those two in here," The Major jerked his head at the unconscious guards. "Or else whoever turns up will know something isn't right."

There were two doors behind the counter and together they pulled the two men inside by their jackets through the one leading to the kitchen, leaving them on the floor, out of the way. Butler stepped back into the front of the shop and flicked the flimsy-looking lock across. It would at least buy them a few seconds.

The Major was looking at a pulled-to door marked 'STORES' and about to tell his nephew that they should check if this was the door to the basement, since they were almost certainly in the right place now, when the sound of a car pulling up outside stopped him.

Voices echoed through the newspaper screen.

"Where's Nick? He's supposed to be outside."

"He'll have forgot, sir."

"Don't give me that. It could be them," the man in charge snapped. "Any anomaly, Joshua. Any anomaly."

"Yes sir, apologies sir."

"Don't give me that!" the man repeated and the Butlers were certain it was Carker, for this was one of his favourite phrases. "Go check everything's alright."

There was the sound of footsteps drawing closer until they paused. "Sir, there's blood here. On the pavement. Not much but it could be something..."

Carker swore.

"Go get the Fowls. I hold these off," The Major growled, ducking behind the counter and levelling his gun. Butler pulled out his own gun.

"Need an extra gun?"

"Shouldn't do. Go. Quickly."

The door to the basement swung open easily and Butler crept down the concrete stairs. Light from the doorway flooded into the room below.

"How many fags did you have, Nick?"

Shit.

"Jonny?"

Knowing that to speak now would just give him away, Butler slid along the wall down the stairs.

"Who's there?" one man barked, starting to get suspicious. "Stop pissing about!"

Movement. Someone was heading towards the stairs.

"Go check Mickey."

"I don't trust leaving you," the man called 'Mickey' shouted over his shoulder.

"What, it's not like I can do anything in 30 seconds."

Butler felt his lip curl at the sickening voice. He bent his knees.

"Huh, somehow I don't believe you..." the speaking figure appeared at the bottom of the stairs, barely having time to swear before he was flattened by just under 19 stone of angry Butler.

According to Juliet's BMI calculator, Butler was verging on overweight. The Major, apparently, already was in the red weight zone. That involved a lot of laughing and teasing, followed by a lengthy explanation to the youngest Butler that BMI does not take into account muscle mass and Juliet should throw the ridiculous thing away. Overweight or not, 260 odd pounds of 7ft 2 inch Butler is a lot to be hit by from a considerable height. The man crumpled, one leg broken instantly and head snapping backwards onto the floor, knocking him unconscious immediately. Butler landed on him and rolled to his feet.

Madam Ko would have perhaps commented on the half-a-second-or-so it took him to get up.

Far too long. You could have been dead by then. And if you are dead, your principal is as good as.

Ah well, practice made perfect and he hadn't thrown himself down many stairs recently that he could remember.

The man still standing leapt away from him and drew a handgun. "Don't come any closer or I'll shoot."

Butler dived behind a box of some ex-supply from the take-away. Definitely not bullet-proof, but it meant he was hidden. The man rightly panicked.

"Come out or I... I shoot the kid."

Not good. Very not good. Butler considered his options. He'd rather get shot at than Artemis.

"Alright. I'll come out. Just don't shoot anyone."

He came out slowly, hands up. The gun switched to him.

The Fowl's eyes widened at the sight of him, but they couldn't speak through the tape secured over both their mouths.

Butler tried negotiating first. No need for the pair to receive a swift reminder of just exactly what kind of skills were under their employment just yet. "Look, I'm only here for them. No one has to get hurt."

"Too late for that. No offense, but I shoot you and my Christmas bonus is going through the roof, mate."

"Fair enough."

Butler smashed a fist on the lightswitch on the wall behind him and plunged them into darkness. He was good with darkness. He dropped to the floor, bellycrawling forward and rolling away from where he'd been before he stood up and threw a first at the source of the waft of air that warned him of movement. His hand hit the muzzle of the gun, sending the shot wide and the gun skittering across the floor. His next hit made a much nicer flesh-on-flesh noise. The man yelled and grabbed his face, falling over backwards and dropping like a dead weight. Thankfully he missed landing on the Fowls but he hit his head on the wall, groaning and Butler grabbed the guy by his ankles and dragged him back towards the light filtering down from the stairs, switching the bulb back on. The man was groaning, which he quickly put a temporary end too and threw him towards his still-unconscious partner.

Then he took a breath, cramming the emotionless, trained-to-kill side of him back into its caged corner of his brain before he knelt next to the two shivering figures on the floor.

"Butler!" Artemis yelped the second his mouth was freed of tape. Butler peeled the tape away from their mouths much more gently than the man had done for Artemis before.

"Hello Artemis," Butler felt his rage boil back to the surface as he saw his charge's swollen cheek. He grabbed the boys wrists in one hand and considered the cuffs and tape that held them together. "Do you know who has the keys to these?"

"Him over there, the first one you...ah got," Angeline said, bringing her own cuffed hands up to point.

"Right," Butler said, striding over and grabbing the man by the jacket. He was stirring and Butler considered that he would give the man a chance to be helpful rather tan waste time rootling through all his pockets.

"Oi, sleeping beauty," he said, patting the man's cheek heavily. "Where are the keys to the cuffs?"

"Wha...argh... my head... ah my leg... jeeze..."

He didn't have time for this. The bodyguard dropped the man to the floor and began patting his jacket down.

"Butler he isn't the worst of them," Angeline called. "He'll probably give you them if you ask again."

Butler looked over incredulously. That was Stockholm Syndrome talking, he would guess, but still, he tried again, pulling the man's head closer and speaking more slowly.

"Keys. Cuffs. Now."

The man blinked at him blearily and reached a hand into his inside pocket and handing the giant a set of cuff keys.

Butler dropped the man a little less heavily and knelt before the Fowls again, quickly unlocking the cuffs. Then he reached to his boot and pulled out one of his shrike throwing knives. It was testament to their bond that Artemis didn't even flinch when he ran the blade millimetres from the boy's wrists, then ankles, freeing him before turning to do the same for Angeline.

"Are you OK?" he asked the boy.

"I will be fine, thank-you Butler. Just a few scratches here and there."

Butler helped him to his feet guiltily. Not even 'scratches' were acceptable in his book. He turned to help Angeline and started to wonder whether the place had a back door they could get out of if things took a turn for the worse upstairs.

"Thank you," she said, peeling the rest of the tape off carefully.

"Don't mention it," Butler grunted. And he meant it. Mentioning this moment would remind him about the failure that had led to it. Not something any bodyguard wanted to be reminded of.

"I don't suppose you could bring Mickey, ah, that man, with us when we leave? He's the reason we're not more injured than we could have been..." Angeline started.

Butler was about to try to explain that he had no intention of bringing the man with them when there was a smash that came from the front door being forced open and shouting from upstairs.

Butler suddenly realised that it was odd that his Uncle hadn't shouted down to check if he'd found the Fowls yet. He'd been sitting silently waiting for the door to be forced and now he was up against however many men had burst through it.

With two of them, they'd likely be able to take out anyone that did, but to do that, he needed to make sure the Fowl's were safe.

Butler hauled sacks of rice from one corner.

"Get behind here. Keep quiet. Don't come out for anything," he told them, gesturing them into the small makeshift shelter.

A hail of bullets shattered the dawn quiet. Miniature explosions that Butler's eardrums were well used to, but had the Fowls covering their ears.

The pair screamed and voices yelled from upstairs. More gunshots. Rice sacks weren't going to be enough. He scanned the room frantically. The freezer door stood out against the bleak walls. A guttural snarl of pain he would recognise anywhere reached his ears. The gunshots continued and Butler knew it would be his uncle still fighting. Unlike in the action films, bullets didn't tend to down you unless they hit you in the head, or somewhere else fairly essential to you staying upright - providing you had the determination to keep going.

Still, for perhaps half a second, his legs considered sprinting up the stairs, his hand drawing his gun instinctively before he realised it was in his palm. He slipped it loosely back into its holster.

Protect the Principals.

"Come with me," he ignored his uncle, helping them up again. Grabbing Artemis by the shoulder and Angeline by the hand, he turned the freezer temperature gauge up to as hot as it would go and heaved the door open.

"We can't go in there! We'll freeze!" Artemis gasped, turning in the hold his bodyguard on him.

"It won't be for long I promise," his bodyguard said, shepherding them inside.

"It's going to be alright, Arty," Angeline said firmly, spotting the emergency exit handle on the inner of the door. Just in case...

"Just stay down and I'll be back as soon as I can," Butler said quietly, sealing the door and turning on the spot. He would. If they caught hypothermia after all this...

The Major fired through the pain, he had already hit several in places that were going to leave them incapacitated in one way or another. Then two men had piled through the doorway at the same time and although he hit one, the other fired with trained accuracy and The Major had snarled in pain and annoyance at the hit. Then the guy had ducked out of the way and The Major had had to concentrate on others rather than returning the shot.

Finally, the doorway was empty and he was fairly sure he had got them all. Which was lucky, since he had about three bullets left. He placed the weapon down and allowed himself to look at his injury. A good portion of his lower body was soaked in blood and he swore, clamping a hand over the material he knew would be covering a hole to his insides.

"Well, well, well," a voice said harshly. "Seems you blue diamonds aren't quite bulletproof after all, eh?"

The Major snarled like a cornered animal as the man stepped towards him. He even managed to get the gun up before the boot impacted with his face and for the first time in decades, a mere human-being knocked out Artemis Fowl Senior's bodyguard.

Principals before anyone else. Even family.

He'd had it drilled into him for so long that this time he'd actually followed the rules. He couldn't remember a time he'd done that outside of training. In fact no, even at training, turning back for comrades had been a source of ribbing.

You're a bodyguard, Domovoi, not some glory-seeking solider, Madame Ko would snap at him as he carried the final member of his team - tranquilised by 'enemy fire' - to safety. It's time you started acting like one.

He'd never bothered to voice that it wasn't hero-worship he was seeking, it was just the uncontrollable need to guard people that he found hard to shake. It was his greatest weakness, as well as his best asset. Well there was more than one way to skin a cat, so to speak. And none of the others had graduated at eighteen. He pulled out his gun and leapt up the stairs five at a time and slunk, crouched behind the counter.

The Major was slumped in the corner; gun loose in an open palm.

"Uncle?" he said warily, keeping his head well below the counter like a soldier below a trench parapet. The Major didn't move. Butler wasn't even sure if he was still breathing.

"Guess again," said the voice of a giant figure on the other side of the counter.

The Coca-Cola thing (other fizzy drinks are available) is actually true apparently. At least that's what we're told after canoeing/swimming in minging canals/rivers etc.

By the way, this is the longest chapter yet. I almost chopped it like I did the last time it got past 6,000 words but I decided it would be better as a chunky-chapter :)

Sadly (because they were fun to write) that's the end of the Flashbacks. Nevermind, we're nearing the end! Oh wait... that's just as bad :/

Well, it's a few more chapters yet I promise!

Wolfy
ooo
O