A/N: Chapter eleven! I'm hoping to finish up in 5-6 more chapters, perhaps, maybe more. There's an idea for a sequel floating around inside my folder for this fanfic, but I haven't decided if I'm going to write it.
Review! Tell me what you think :) I actually have the next two chapters written - look at me, working ahead. Ha. If only I could do this for school too.
This week is homecoming week - *screaming intensifies* - I'm actually going to the dance this year.
It was no question that Clara was an extremely gifted musician, even if she didn't come across as the detailed, perfectionist persona that most musicians embraced.
Danielle knew this.
She also knew that she hadn't heard Clara practice or perform anything in - well, it had to be almost a year by now. Their practice schedules never intersected.
She had forgotten just how good Clara was at wrenching all sorts of things out of notes on a page.
The cello wailed mournfully as quavering notes hung suspended in the air.
Danielle sat outside the practice room with her head leaned back against the wall, eyes shut. She'd finished her own practicing about ten minutes ago.
It was too beautiful to interrupt. She was almost reluctant to breathe for fear of shattering the fragile spell around her soul.
She had a teacher once who said that the best music made you feel something inside. Danielle hadn't understood at the time but in later years she'd realized the shifting tug at something deep inside her chest when the pitch was just right and the music understood.
She almost wanted to dance.
There were no words to describe the sheer beauty of the piece that Clara played - if words were omnipotent, music would be obsolete.
"Are you ready yet?" Ian asked, breaking the silence.
She jabbed her elbow into his ribs. "Ssh."
"What? It's just-"
"Listen."
Two final notes sat tremulously on the gentle air currents flowing through the hall, their volume rising, rising. . . and suddenly, gone.
A chair squeaked and the sound of a zipper being yanked open chased all traces of music out of the air.
The spell was broken and Danielle opened her eyes.
A few moments later, Clara emerged from the small room with her cello's burgundy case slung over her shoulders.
Ian launched to his feet. "Finally. It's been three hours-"
"I know," she said softly as she brushed by him and let her cello slide to the ground. "I'll be right back."
He glanced at Danielle with uncertainty. "Is she okay?"
Probably not. "Yeah." Clara hated when people asked after her, so Danielle certainly wasn't going to try.
"I'll wait for her," Danielle said. "You can go back to the car."
"Nice try."
She sighed.
Five minutes later, Clara hadn't returned.
It's nothing, Danielle told herself. You're just paranoid.
Five minutes later, even Ian was starting to look concerned.
Danielle got to her feet, smoothing out the hem of her shirt. "I'll go check on her."
The hall ended with a perpendicular intersection, bathrooms to the left and the stairs to the right. Danielle pushed open the bathroom doors, not quite surprised to find all the stalls empty. No sign of Clara.
Turning to leave, she paused when her foot scuffed against something solid on the floor. She gingerly picked up Clara's phone - with the bright purple case, it couldn't be anyone else's - and turned it on, almost dropping it when she saw the picture on the screen.
Clara, defiantly glaring at the camera, and August, his hand pressed over her mouth.
She didn't need to check any of the texts; the message was plain as day.
Come back.
Her hands shook violently enough that she had trouble opening the door. She staggered out, looking for Ian in the hall. . .
He was gone too.
Alone!
The air rushed out of her lungs with a whoosh as her chest flattened, caved in, and she couldn't think about anything else except that she was alone and someone, somewhere, was coming for her.
Where was Ian?
Someone wrenched Alex's earbuds out of his ears. Rachmaninoff's Vocalise sounded tinny as it blared from the tiny speakers into the sparsely furnished office.
Alex sent an irritated glare in Snake's direction as the elder kicked his feet up on the empty desk.
"So, Alex - let's go over this again."
Sighing, Alex paused his music and shuffled the papers around on his lap. "Troy and his companion are meeting with a client. He has an illegal rifle despite being a sniper for the American army. He's dabbled in MI6. " His name is familiar.
"What are you listening to?" Ben asked from his spot on the floor with his injured leg stretched out flat against the floor. He looked haggard and pale, whether from medication or pain Alex couldn't tell.
"Something Clara made me," Alex replied, quickly scrolling through the playlist. "Vocalise, Elegy, Oblivion, other cello lines."
"That sounds depressing."
"It was recorded by artists."
"So, she's a cellist?" Ben winced as he shifted positions ever-s-slightly, reaching for a coffee mug a few feet away.
"Yes. I thought we were talking about the case? I was thinking if you could have the reception moved up by seven months this would be over a lot sooner."
Snake did a double take. "Are you Serious?"
"Yes. Force their hand - whoever they are."
"Alex, that's three months away."
Alex rolled his eyes. "I'm aware of that, Snake."
Ben shrugged, pondering the question. "That might not be a bad idea."
"I can't believe you're actually considering this!" Snake gestured wildly to the brace on Ben's leg. "You'll barely be able to walk without a crutch!"
"Luckily there are four more people who are more than capable," Ben said dryly.
Alex was about to say something that would clearly define the limits of his willing involvement when his phone buzzed. Since he had been listening to music, the volume was all the way up. The blaring sound pierced his ears almost painfully as he managed to jab the green answer icon.
"Danielle?"
"Alex!" her voice was scratchy from static. "Clara's been kidnapped! August took her, he left a picture on her phone, and Ian's gone he was just here I have no idea where he is but I need to find Clara because he's gonna hurt her and -"
It took Alex a second to remember that she was talking about Eagle and not Ian Rider.
"Whoa. Danielle - Danielle- Dani!" He pressed his free hand to his other ear. "I can't understand a word you're saying - start over, slowly. What happened?"
Snake sat forward, concern creasing his brow. What happened? he mouthed.
Alex shrugged.
"Okay," Danielle said. A breath crackled over the line and when she spoke again, she sounded much calmer. "Clara went to the toilet. She never came back. I went in to check, and it was just her phone with a picture of her and August. I left, and Ian was gone."
"Okay," Alex said, getting to his feet and stepping over Ben's leg on his way out of the office. "Where are you now?"
He heard Snake following him but paid no attention, searching the hallway for his shoes.
"Locked in a practice room," she murmured. "Hiding."
"Good. Don't leave, no matter who comes to the door, okay?" Locating his shoes, Alex jammed them onto his feet. He debated bringing one of the pistols he knew Wolf had hidden all over the place, even though this was their first day in the house. THere was one beneath the coffee table, taped to the underside, one in the cabinet, and probably a dozen others.
"Okay," she breathed.
"Tom left about half an hour ago to find you guys. If he's there first, go to him. And don't answer any texts from unidentified numbers. Okay?"
"Yeah," she said. She sounded determined, and Alex prayed desperately that she would stay in the practice room.
"I'll be right there." Alex hung up and turned to Snake. "August's kidnapped Clara."
"Who's August?"
"I'll tell you in the car," Alex said as he shrugged on a pullover and yanked the door open, skipping the stairs altogether in favor of leaping to the driveway below.
Snake hastily tugged on a sweatshirt and followed, fishing his keys out of his pocket. "You'll have to give me directions."
"Fine."
Danielle checked and double checked the lock on the flimsy knob - it wasn't a deadbolt or anything really stable, but at least it provided the illusion of safety. She clenched her phone - and Clara's - in her hands until her knuckles turned white.
The practice room was cramped, a meter by two meters. If she stretched out her arms, she could touch the walls on either side of her. An upright piano was wedged against one wall, cutting the space in half, and a single window made up most of the opposite side. It looked out onto the courtyard below, a pleasant area with benches and elegant landscaping.
Clara'S phone buzzed.
Danielle didn't dare check it even though she desperately wanted to.
Alex said no, she told herself, huddled on the piano bench.
Her fingers itched for the soothing smoothness of the keyboard, but she didn't want to play for fear of being discovered. It was too much of a risk.
She kept her eyes trained on the window.
Students milled through the courtyard, some stopping to sit on the benches, others to talk in gaggles near the fountain on their way to classes. There was no sign of Clara or August anywhere - she'd looked dozens of times.
Danielle checked the time of her phone - fifteen minutes since she'd called Alex.
She also watched for Tom, but he hadn't appeared either. She doubted he would know where her building was.
Then, against all odds, she saw him.
His brown hair was the first thing to catch her eye - brown, almost black. He sat on one of the empty benches, leaning forward, forearms braced on his knees. He glanced around briefly, and she knew it was him.
Relief hit her with enough intensity that her legs trembled, fatigued.
Danielle fumbled to unlock the door, her fingers shaky from adrenaline, and darted down the hall. Her heart pounded so loud she feared the other people practicing could hear. After pausing next to the door to listen for a few seconds, she decided that no one was in the stairwell and slipped inside.
She sprinted down the stairs, almost losing her footing several times. Her footsteps clattered around. She ran as if August was right behind her.
The sunlight was blinding as she stumbled out into the courtyard. Tom was still there - on the bench across the stones.
She ran over to him. "Tom!"
"Hey!" he stood in a single, smooth moment. "Alex just called me. I was going to come in and find you."
"I would have bashed your head into the piano," she muttered. "Alex told me not to open the door - for anyone."
"You would have," he said.
She pressed her hands to the sides of her face, letting out a shaky laugh. "I don't know why I'm freaking out - I've hid from him before, this isn't the first time. God, this is why I didn't want friends." Oops. Did she say that out loud?
"What do you mean?" his brow crinkled.
"Friends - especially like Alex - they just give you an excuse to rely on someone else. And if they don't come, then you're screwed." she shook her head. "I don't need saving."
"But what about Clara?"
"No, that's different. She's like my sister."
Tom slung his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into the contact for the briefest of moments, not wanting to feel alone.
"We won't leave you hanging," Tom said. "I mean, I've put up with Alex for six years. You think you're something? Try him. Ask for the story of how he was shot in the heart sometime."
"You're kidding." Danielle started to smile, but a flash of jet black hair caught her eye. Instinctively she moved behind Tom - if August didn't see her, he wouldn't hurt Tom - and peered out at the couple entering the courtyard.
Clara stood ramrod straight, her lips set in a small smile that suggested some other preoccupation. The man behind her - oh, Danielle knew who he was. Hair the color of snow with cold grey eyes that could freeze molten rock. Some thought him attractive, but she knew better.
The scar on her stomach tingled with phantom pains.
August.
"Tom," she whispered. "That's him."
She followed Tom's eyes as he scanned the courtyard and landed on Clara, then the man next to her. His jaw clenched.
"August?"
"Yeah."
Danielle inconspicuously glanced around. No sign of Alex or the soldiers, which reminded her to text Alex that she was with Tom.
"Why does he want you again?" Tom asked, an odd glitch to his voice.
Danielle bit her lip. "I owe him payment for four years' worth of heroin that my mother bought."
"I have an idea to get him away from Clara" he said hesitantly. "I don't know what he's done to her but she's not leaving his side."
Danielle remembered all too well the sting of a box cutter pressing into her back, forcing her to walk down that abandoned street. She knew August probably pulled a similar stunt with Clara. . . who was staring right at her.
Danielle looked at her best friend. Clara's eyes, the taut lines of her face, screamed at her to run!
She couldn't. Clara had stayed when no one else would; Danielle wouldn't leave her now. She turned to Tom and took a deep breath to steady herself.
"I have an idea too."
"What's yours?"
"Hold my hand."
Alex heard his phone chime before the alert popped up on his screen.
With Tom.
He was only partially relieved because he knew that Tom wasn't strong enough to overcome August in a fight - not that Tom was weak, but Alex had seen those bruises on Danielle's face. The man who left them had a heavy hand and Tom didn't. Football wasn't good training for arm strength.
"She's with Tom," he said.
Snake's hands relaxed on the wheel. "Good. Tell her to stay where she is."
"Already did."
"Is it possible that this August bloke knows who you are?"
"I doubt it. He wouldn't come after her if he knew I was a spy."
Snake shook his head, hair flopping over his eyes. "You don't think it's odd that he comes after her as soon as she starts working with you?"
Alex drummed his fingers against the car door. "Maybe he was tipped off."
"Someone wants you distracted."
Alex shrugged tensely. They had to end this now. How did August know where Danielle was?
Unless someone had tipped him off. . .
What had Danielle said? Eagle was gone?
Alex swore as Snake was forced to halt the car at a red light. "Where's Gwen?"
"She went to work. Downtown."
He kept tapping his fingers against the plastic, trying to ground himself so that he could think. Pieces flashed through his mind faster than he could keep up - he knew, suddenly, what was going on.
"How did she get there? We only have two cars."
"She called a cab," Snake replied.
Alex took a deep breath. Calm down, he thought. It could just be a coincidence. "Really?"
"Yeah," Snake said, giving him an odd look. "Cub? What's up?"
Alex leaned forward, head in his hands, feeling incredibly stupid. "It's not me they're trying to distract, Snake. It's you."
Danielle thought she was going to pass out. Her head swam. Her heart felt like it was about to give out, paralyzed inside her chest.
Tom squeezed her hand. "Breathe. You look pale."
She gasped.
No sign of Alex. She heard her phone buzz but didn't want to check for fear of revealing Clara's phone, in case August was watching.
Her brilliant idea was to make August angry enough that he left Clara and came after her. He was mental enough to do it, she knew.
"Do you think he'll go for it?" Tom asked.
"He's mental," she replied with a panicky laugh. "Thinks he owns me."
Tom looked like he had half a mind to try and beat August into the ground right there and then, but Danielle tightened her grip on his hand to keep him next to her.
"Come on then," she said and tugged him off the bench.
"Did you see him leave?" Tom asked.
"No. Say something. Pretend that you like me."
He gave her a terse smile. She frowned, slightly shaking her head. The key was to pretend like she didn't know Clara was gone.
"Hey, I've been sick for two days so I'm going to ask Julian for the homework," she said, recognizing one of her composition classmates standing in a group of people across the courtyard. She started towards them, Tom trailing behind, and tried to think of absolutely anything else than her best friend and worst enemy trapped together on that bench across from her.
"Whatever," Tom said, shrugging. "You know I don't understand your boring music stuff." He made a face.
She laughed, somewhat less forced. "Boring? Really?"
"No," he admitted. "I'm actually incredibly jealous that I couldn't make a sound on the piano if I tried."
She bumped her shoulder into his. "I knew it."
Julian caught her gaze and lifted his hand in a wave. She waved back and hurried the last few steps to him.
"Hi Julian," she said. "I've been sick for the last two days. Do you have the assignments from comp 201?"
"Yeah," he said in heavily accented English. "Here." He reached into the satchel hanging from his shoulder and removed a few slightly wrinkled papers. "Signora Cantel wants us to analyze the - movimento - third movement of Vivaldi."
"Thank you," she said, taking the papers. "Missing Milan?"
"Yes," he nodded emphatically. "It rains here."
"It does. Well, I'll see you around."
"Okay," he said, turning back towards his group.
Danielle knew she couldn't procrastinate anymore and motioned to Tom to walk with her across the courtyard. She had to force her legs to carry her towards August and Clara, but didn't look. If she didn't, her facade would be ruined.
"Milan?" Tom asked.
"Yes. We have international students, you know."
"I do now," he muttered.
Closer and closer.
Do it for Clara, she thought. "Do you want to go out later? Grab some food before the game or something?"
He gave her a bewildered look, and she squeezed his hand for emphasis. Comprehension dawned on his gaze. "Yes," he said. "That sounds great."
Less than a meter away. She stopped, turning to face him. "Thanks, Tom. You're the best."
His dark eyes bored into hers.
Danielle was also acutely aware of August's eyes roving over her. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, the primal knowledge that she was being watched. She felt nauseated, about to faint, like her heart would explode.
Knowing that she hadn't secured his interest yet, she bit her lip and stared at Tom. What else could she do?
His forehead wrinkled as he frowned, grimacing at he stone beneath his feet before locking eyes with her.
"I'm sorry," he muttered.
Danielle felt her breath stutter inside her throat. Tom wouldn't do anything without asking, and now she saw the question in his eyes and knew that she had no other choice but to trust him.
So, she nodded.
"Tell me," Alex said through gritted teeth. "Exactly what you told Gwen to say."
"Only if she was asked. That her husband is up in the hills for his health - the London air isn't good for his lungs - and they were sharing rent with some musicians from the Academy." Snake slammed his palm into the steering wheel. "Stupid, stupid-"
"No," Alex broke in. "We followed standard procedure, which is exactly what they were expecting us to do. I'm calling Gwen."
"How far away are we?"
"Ten minutes."
Alex realized that he didn't know Gwen's cell, so instead he called Ben, having memorized his number off the card back in his flat that Ben had left the first time he visited Alex.
The phone rang four times. No answer.
He tried Wolf as a last resort.
The line rang once.
Twice.
"Hello?"
Alex never thought he would be glad to hear the leader of K Unit. "Wolf. It's Alex."
"What do you want?"
"Danielle's in trouble. Snake and I are at the academy, Eagle's missing. Ben isn't picking up. We think Gwen accidentally told the cabbie that we work here."
A heavy sigh. "What? Eagle?"
"They drew us out!" Alex shouted, his patience snapping. "They knew Danielle could call me, so they tipped August off where she was and he took Clara instead."
"Who is they*"
"I don't know, Wolf! What happened in Irag? Could that have something to do with it?" Alex remembered Snake's words from earlier: You're still not the same after Iraq.
"What?"
"Just get out!" Alex yelled, ignoring the odd looks he was getting from other drivers who saw him frantically gesturing. "Find Ben!" A trap for Ben - the car. A trap for Eagle - the Academy.
For Snake?
For Wolf?
Alex didn't care if he ended up yelling at Wolf for nothing, better to be safe than sorry. He slammed his fist in to the dashboard - God, how he hated not understanding! He needed to sit down, to be alone, to think.
He hung up before Wolf could say anything else and leaned back, hands clenched into fists. It all made sense now, the seemingly random events, the car wreck, August and Danielle.
Wolf had done something in Iraq, maybe, or it was Scorpia, or someone else who wanted him - there was a leak in MI6 - August had been tipped off about Danielle -
"Alex Rider," Snake said with deadly calm in his voice. "Tell me what you figured out."
"August was tipped off," Alex began. "The day Danielle started working with me. I think whoever told him knew that I worked for MI6 and that they would use her to get me back in the field. Maybe they even manufactured this case to get your unit and me together. The car wreck was to incapacitate Ben. Now Eagle's gone. They've made deliberately pathetic attempts on my life to look like it was someone else entirely so it wouldn't be that odd if I disappear." He paused for breath, shaking his head. "You're next."
Snake turned into a parking lot. He was silent for a few long moments.
"The body we found," Alex continued. "It was beyond recognition - maybe on purpose*"
"Damn," Snake muttered. "That's a lot of circumstantial, Cub."
"But it makes sense," Alex protested as he yanked off his seatbelt and shoved open the door. "In Troy's room, his partner mentioned a client, a woman."
"What about Troy? Do you think there's really an assassination?"
"DIdn't you say he was the informant?"
"Yeah - well, it could be someone else inside the organization."
"Maybe." Alex practically fell out of the car in his haste to get out. He knew the practice building where Danielle was, and that he had to get to her now.
Snake followed, walking at first, then breaking into a jog as Alex sprinted down the sidewalk towards the Academy campus.
Danielle made herself stay relaxed as Tom's other hand landed on the curve of her hip like a hug. She wanted to run - this was why she hated people touching her, she always expected it to hurt- but she stayed. If Clara was hurt because of her, she would never forgive herself.
August thought he owned her - if Tom was touching her, August's property, then August would be infuriated that someone dared to take what was his. Danielle knew this from experience. There was a reason she never went to the dances at her school.
Tom's hand pressed against the small of her back, pushing her closer to him. She reached up, lacing her fingers together behind his neck, and stared at the wall of the building over his shoulder. He was close enough to kiss her if he wanted to.
Seconds ticked by.
Suddenly she heard a scuffle behind her followed by a sharp cry of pain. Instantly Tom pulled away, his hand now grabbing her wrist and pulling her in the opposite direction. "Run."
She tore her wrist out of his grasp and swung around in a half circle to see Clara sprawled out across the stone and August stalking towards her with anger rapidly blackening his eyes.
Tom protectively pushed himself in front of he and strode towards August.
"Tom, don't -" she began, but he waved her off, his shoulders squared.
"Get Clara," he said.
She bit her lip but nodded, circling back, keeping Tom behind her and August. People were staring now, Julian racing over to Clara and falling to his knees beside her.
Her ears rang with static.
Julian, though Danielle barely knew him, flung his satchel away and carefully lifted Clara's head and shoulders off the ground. She groaned, her eyes flying open. Danielle crouched next to her, gently pushing her hair back.
"Clara. Are you okay?"
"I'm good," she replied stiffly, wincing. "Just can't bloody breathe."
Danielle glanced at Julian, who was still supporting Clara's upper body. "Thanks, Julian."
"The others were afraid of him, Julian explained, jerking his head in the direction of August.
Oh, God- Tom and August.
Danielle glanced over her shoulder, almost afraid to look.
To her surprise, August was gone.
Alex knew he had arrived just in time to avoid Tom getting completely clobbered.
August - a man whose hair was shockingly white, albino - had disappeared when he caught sight of Alex and Snake.
Coward.
"Nice going," Alex said, clapping Tom on the back. "You would have gotten destroyed."
"I know," Tom replied distractedly.
Snake hurried past both of them to a small gaggle of students gathered around a girl sprawled out on the ground. A pang ran through Alex's chest when he realized that it was Clara, and Danielle was kneeling next to her.
"Hey!" Snake said rather loudly, shoving his way through. "I'm a doctor - is she okay?"
"I'm alright," Clara said, her voice breathy. "Just got the wind knocked out of my lungs." She pushed herself up on her elbows. A lanky boy with dark hair and olive skin offered her his arm, but she shook him off and managed to stand, only swaying slightly. From his looks, he was Italian like Wolf.
"I think she'll be okay," Alex said.
Tom nodded.
Alex glanced at him. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Tom said, reaching up to smooth his hair back. "I just - damn, did she really see that scumbag once a week?"
"Apparently. I don't think she had a choice." Alex finally approached Danielle and Clara, recognizing a few familiar faces from the orchestra. Some of them waved, but most just stared at the bruise on his face. He maneuvered around them and reached out, gently touching Danielle on the shoulder.
She gave a nearly imperceptible flinch before she saw who he was. Her eyes were red, glazed over with tears.
"Hey," Alex said, helping her stand. "You're okay. You're gonna be okay."
"I know," she sniffed.
Clara took an unsteady step forward. "Danielle, you should've run."
Danielle just shook her head and pushed past Alex, her arms protectively crossed over her chest.
"Took you long enough," Clara muttered.
Alex couldn't stop a small grin from tugging at his lips. "I know. Stay with Snake, will you?"
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"To find Eagle."
"I'm coming."
"You shouldn't."
"Alex," Clara said softly. "Do you know which room I used? Ian and Dani waited outside."
He frowned, opened his mouth, then stopped. Truthfully, he didn't.
"Yeah, thought so. Let's go." Clara smoothly pivoted towards the building, leaving Alex to follow.
He glanced over his shoulder to be sure Danielle was okay - she was with Tom, her face pressed into his shoulder.
He hurried after Clara.
Tom cleared his throat. "You do know that I wasn't actually going to . . ."
"Yes!" Danielle said quickly, pulling away from him. "Of course!"
"Oh. You just -" he hissed out a breath and moved away. "You looked really scared."
"I know," she replied. She was beginning to feel a bit ridiculous now that some of the situation's terror had abated. "I don't like - I'm not used to -" she couldn't find the right words to form the idea in her head so she stopped speaking, shaking her head.
Tom patiently waited.
"I'm not used to people touching me," she said after a few moments. "Sorry."
"No," he said forcefully. "It's not your fault."
She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. He had no idea how hard that was for her to admit - to admit that everything was not fine.
Most who touched her had hurt her.
Moment of weakness over, she moved away from Tom back towards the SAS soldiers - well, soldier. Quinn was the only one there. Alex had disappeared.
"Where's Alex?" she asked.
"He went to look for Eagle - uh, Ian." Snake paced back and forth like a tiger, his hands twitching at his sides. "He has some crazy idea that this was all to get us out of the house."
"What do you mean?"
"He thinks someone told August where you were - he started bothering you right after you met Alex." He gave her a quick apologetic glance. "That this has something to do with Luke."
"So. . ." Danielle bit her lip. "Someone's using me?"
Quinn shrugged. "Maybe. Hell if I know."
She wondered at the vague guilt in his eyes but it vanished so quickly that perhaps she imagined it. "You should go look for Ian."
"No, I'm staying with you."
"Who could do something like that?" she asked, more to herself than to Quinn. "It's like chess."
Quinn sighed, looking decades older than he really was. "There's a reason chess was invented for war."
Alex *knew* he was right. He knew with the familiar instinct that saved his life so many times in the field. There weren't several groups making his life hell, there was only one.
An old enemy, or something new?
Given that he hadn't done anything for MI6 in the past four years, Alex's best guess was that someone wanted revenge for one of his missions. Scorpia was supposedly gone, dismantled, vanished. Alex wasn't sure if he believed that, but this wasn't their work. Scorpia was precise. They didn't play mind games and fake assassinations.
Deeply entrenched in his thoughts, Alex almost ran into the door.
Clara gave him an odd look. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," he said, stepping into the staircase.
They ascended the stairs in silence until Clara stopped on the third landing and pushed the automatic open button for the door.
Alex recognized a familiar hall of practice rooms, a single corridor with numbered doors on either side and a small area with flat wooden benches and a vending machine. A burgundy cello case was propped against the wall. Clara hurried over towards it and slung the straps over her shoulders.
"I used this one," she said once she retrieved her instrument. She pointed to the opposite door, room number eight.
Alex carefully nudged the door open with his foot. The room was empty except for a chair, a music stand, and a piano. It was cramped; he was surprised there was enough room for a cellist to work.
He left that room and turned toward the one across it. Clara shuffled out of his way, her body language clearly betraying her best attempts to hide the pain in her stomach. Alex knew how it felt to be flung to cold, hard ground. She might even have a bruise or two.
The door to room number seven, directly across from eight, was wedged shut. Alex tried the knob - it wasn't locked - and shoved his shoulder against the wood, pushing until it finally began to ease open.
Whatever was blocking the door was solid, like a chair, but not too heavy.
Wrinkled khaki fabric came into view.
Dread settled in his stomach, and he swore.
Clara dropped her cello and tried to peer over his shoulder. "What is it?"
"Eagle," Alex replied, squeezing through the tiny opening in the door and kneeling beside his friend.
Eagle was alive, that much was easy enough to tell from his pulse. His face was slack, eyes wide and staring into space. His breaths came slowly, exhales through his mouth.
Alex's eyes skimmed over his teammate and landed on the tiny pinprick of blood on the side of his neck.
An injection.
Lethal? Paralytic?
"Oh my God," Clara muttered. "What happened?"
"Go find Quinn," Alex said. "Don't let Danielle come."
Clara's footsteps faded away across the carpet and Alex set to work rearranging the furniture in the room. He shoved the piano bench underneath the instrument and the music stand up against the wall, folded down. Then he hooked his arms under Eagle's and dragged him a few centimeters backwards until his body was straightened out and he lay flat against the floor.
What had happened was obvious - someone was waiting in the empty room, knowing full well that Eagle and Danielle were just outside. When Danielle left, the person yanked open the door, causing Eagle to fall backwards, and injected him with whatever the hell had frozen in his blood.
Alex looked at Eagle again. His skin was rapidly taking on a clammy pallor, lips tinged the faintest blue.
Poison.
Alex wished he didn't have the evidence now that his guess was correct. The injection probably hadn't been meant for Eagle, just for whoever happened to come with Danielle.
It could have been him.
Thank you, reviewers! You guys are the bomb!
Sadly no review replies in this chapter because I've gotta go out and buy shoes for my homecoming dress (whee) (not really) (save me)
