A.N.: Chapter's definitely shorter than usual, but I wanted to churn this out before I procrastinate even more. (but look out for a one-shot soon!)
Happy Thanksgiving and happy pre-holiday season to those who don't celebrate turkey day!
When it came down to blending lies into casual off-handed comments, Fletcher took the Oscar. A promised 'simple stroll' wasn't exactly a simple stroll, in the end. As it turned out, Fletcher had a much different ulterior motive.
"We're getting farther and farther away from Claire's safe house," remarked Alex out loud as they walked down the streets. They had been walking for almost half an hour now, but the street had no end. Fletcher seemed to be wandering almost aimlessly. Throwing off a tail or something, but there were no tails.
"It's not a safe house if it isn't safe."
"That's not my point. In fact, that's beyond the point." They stopped along the busy curb, and Fletcher tried to hail down one of the speeding cabs even as Alex tried to continue their conversation. "Where're we headed?"
Fletcher didn't reply. One of the yellow-skinned pulled to a stop for them. The assassin was the first to step into the car before demanding the same of Alex. Sometimes, Alex wished the assassin would let go of some information if he wanted Alex to trust him. There was no such thing as unconditional trust, Alex frowned in dismay. He asked again, this time more quietly so the driver in front wouldn't hear them.
"Take us to the airport." Finally, Fletcher said to the driver.
Airport? "Why?" Didn't Benjamin work at the port? Port as in ships, for heaven's sake.
"Alrighty, mates." Whatever reply he wanted to garner out of Fletcher was interrupted by the driver loudly pronouncing as he shifted gear and pulled back into the streets. "To the airport it is. Strap on ya seat belts, and have a nice drive! Shouldn't be more than a dozen minutes and we'll be there faster than you can say airplanes are flying creatures of the sky!"
Quietly, Alex leaned over. "Why the air—"
"Fasten your seat belt, young man. My driving's gonna be fast. Speedy. Not your normie grandma speed, oh no."
No choice but to follow, Alex strapped himself in before attempting to rescue his conversation with Fletcher again. "What's special about the airport? I thought—"
"Just making a quick right turn here, hold on to ya belts 'cuz it might get windy." He chuckled madly. Oh for goodness's sake would the man just—"So whatcha guys had for breakfast? Mine was amazing, I tell ya. A-maa-zing."
He did his best to ignore the enthusiastic driver. "Fletcher? Why—"
"Ya know we don't usually eat kebab for breakfast? Well, I did. My wife made it. She's an a-maa-zing cook, just sayin'. I'd invite y'all to join us for dinner, but then." That chuckle again. "She ain't trust strangers, sorry."
Fletcher might not enjoy casual conversations, but he seemed more than willing to let the man take control as he sat quietly. Leaned back in his seat, he was looking more amused than annoyed. Alex, however, was more annoyed than amused.
"That's great, man! I love kebabs too. Okaaay, we're done." Alex reached over to draw up the window between front and back, successfully blocking the sound transmission. "Where we headed, Fletcher?"
The assassin sighed. "Where do you think?"
"Uh, not Claire's safe house?"
"We're being chased," Fletcher attempted to explain his reasoning as he heard the accusation in Alex's tone. "And despite what Yassen did? He's not to be trusted."
Riiight. Assassin's and their paranoia. Alex rolled his eyes. "Yassen said the same thing about you." He missed the way Fletcher's jaw grew taunt for a brief second as Alex turned to glance out the street. "What's so bad about Yassen? He seems nice. Besides, you're the one who stole something—"
"Correction: I did not steal anything." Fletcher turned. "The Boss sent men after me because he didn't want the drive to fall into my hand. The USB has always been my goal, the Boss just didn't realize it soon enough. He's afraid I'll get it before he does."
"Well, why can't he wait till you get it then kill you, and take it back?"
The assassin shot him a long withering glance. "Do I look like I'm easy to kill?"
Alex opened his mouth to remark how easy it would be for him to murder Fletcher in the back of the cab before he promptly shut his mouth. The thought of it was unnerving. Since when did he become a cold-blooded killer? Self-deprecating humor, he understood, but turning murder into a joke?
That, or he was being too self-conscious.
It wasn't too long ago that a young boy died under his misfiring. Back of the head. Perfect accuracy. Just like Ian had been trying to teach him when he was barely enough to reach the star atop the Christmas tree.
Fletcher cleared his throat. "I got hold of Benjamin Crawford's traveling schedule from six months ago. That was when the USB fell into his hands. He was at the port of San Francisco then."
"We're going to San Francisco?"
"Something like that. Imagine you found a drive at a public port, what would you do?"
"Uh, free flash drive. Keep it." Duh.
Fletcher snorted and shook his head. "Benjamin Crawford works on ships and at ports, naturally he understands the normal procedure. Lost and Found is the place to go."
"Did anyone tell you that, for an assassin, you're very optimistic?" Alex asked dryly. "Personally, I claim ownership to everything I pick off the ground. Too bad it doesn't apply to dogs."
Fletcher huffed in amusement, "If it's not in the SF port lost and found, we'll follow his footsteps from there—but I doubt that."
"Why're you so sure?"
The shrug and a comment of "intuition" didn't help, but Alex got the gist. Fletcher's intuition did make sense, just a bit. The short interaction he had with Benjamin Crawford at the precinct immediately ruled the man out as a murderer. He's too affable, too talkative, and too tamed for his own good. That man probably had no sense of adventure besides that short stroll down the beach.
Besides, San Francisco was a great place.
"What do you want with the drive anyway? World domination? Be the next Scorpian? Donate to an orphanage?" Alex paused. "If you stop chasing after it, won't Scorpia stop trying to kill you as well?"
"That's not how things work, Alex." For a moment, Alex thought Fletcher was talking about how Scorpia worked—he wasn't. "I made my path. I'm not going to stop. As for the drive, it's the key to power."
"Power, huh." Perhaps it was all in the tone of whatever Fletcher had just said sounded exactly like what a villain would say, but Alex heard no menace in them. Ambition, sure. But malice? Eh. Fletcher wanting to be powerful wasn't any of his business. He didn't look like he wanted anymore bloodshed than Alex wanted, or so Alex hoped anyway. "What are you going to do?"
"Not sure, but I know what you are going to do."
"Really. What?"
"You're going to step out of the car. We're here." Fletcher jerked his head at the airport beyond their window. The driver knocked on the barrier between them and rolled it down seconds later, announcing their arriving as the cab pulled to a stop.
Fletcher paid with his pocket change, but right before Alex could exit the vehicle, the assassin threw a cap over his head as he donned his own. "Once outside, keep your head casually down and walk with a different gait but don't draw attention. Act as if you belong."
"I've always belonged."
"Keep telling yourself that," was the reply accompanying a quick jab. "The only people after us will be Scorpia agents, and possibly the police—"
"And Yassen and Claire by now—"
"Somebody had hidden our disappearance nicely from the news, so no civilians should know. If anybody you recognize greets you, just say hi back and act normal."
"Totally not skeptical at all," muttered Alex with one foot out the cab.
"Alright, off you go. Stay few steps behind me at all time. For any purposes, you are my…"
Before Fletcher could say anything, Alex intercepted. "I swear, if you're gonna say 'little brother', I'm going to laugh. Or barf."
"Cousin then."
"Twice-removed."
"Deal."
It didn't take Wolf long to muster a few officers to Claire's house. Knowing that, if MI6's intel was right, they could be potentially facing two assassins didn't go easy on his apprehensive mind. Luckily, Eagle and Fox decided to tag along. Vest beneath their casual civilian outfits, they stood only a few paces beside the fully-uniformed officers.
At early noon, the deserted street was barely visible behind looming buildings. Wolf would understood why a street thief like Claire chose to live in a place like this; it was in the center of almost everything. Information would be a breeze to come by.
They weren't treating this as a hostile take-down, but as long as they were not fired upon, they would not fire. Wolf knocked loudly on the door with a hand on his holster. "This is the police department. Open up!"
Eagle was peeking into the living room through the curtains drawn slightly apart behind the closed window. He shook his head in negative. No one was home. At least not in sight anyway. They tried again. Same result.
"Looks like nobody's home."
If not at the girl's, then where? Mayford's friends had already been interviewed. They had, and he quoted, no idea where Mayford stuck himself to. Wolf should've asked them about their knowledge on Mayford's involvement, but then, they were sixteen years old. Teens might be champions in front of video games, but they were far from one when it came to real-world chaos. Mayford was, well, an exception—though Mayford had blood-ties to MI6, so that was mildly excusable.
Seeing no further uses, Wolf nodded at the officers behind them in dismissal. They holstered their weapon in acknowledgement and headed back to their vehicles. That left the three of them standing outside the unoccupied house, unsure of their next moves. "Where else could they be?"
"Maybe Agent Rider would know something about his son. A secret hideout?"
"I was thinking," said Fox. "We should go speak with Mayford's friends again. They don't know everything, but they definitely know something."
"We already asked. They don't know where he is."
"But," Fox argued. "They know Mayford better than we do. They will know his tendencies, and how he deals with events."
Eagle made a noise in affirmation, forcing Wolf to begrudgingly accept the new proposal. But before they could return to their car, sounds of footsteps landing on and scraped against the dark pavement in the alleys behind the house.
Movements. Somebody was running, and their footsteps were hard to mask on the asphalt.
Instantly, their guns were out. Wolf gestured for them to spread out and move to the alley. The footsteps were moving further away now, in the opposite direction. They hoped for a quiet ambush, but the hope for silence was quickly dashed as gunshot rung out in the alleyway. Something fell onto the floor, though whoever it was got up just as quick. Then the footsteps reversed direction, and came louder their way.
Wolf abandoned the stealth approach and turned the corner. Immediately, he located the girl, Claire, by her gray sweatshirt, then, as his eyes focused, the figure on the other end of the alley. She was running in their direction, but, however, as soon as she saw them, she skidded to a stop.
She recognized him, Wolf knew. Another shot rung out in their moment of hesitation, and it missed the girl by a narrow margin, nearly clipping one of them in the process. Fox took the initiative to return fire at the figure. The man managed to ducked behind a row of trashcans as soon as the bullets left the chamber. Taking the cover provided, Wolf rushed forward to close the distance between the girl and dragged her backward to their side.
He dumped her unceremoniously behind the wall. Stay down, he gestured. More or less, she agreed through scrabbling movements. More shots ricocheted off the garbage chute behind them, forcing Eagle and Fox to seek cover beside the girl.
"Who's that?" asked Wolf in the moment of silence. Fox was pressed against the wall, listening intensely for any sound of footsteps closing in, while Eagle's own weapon was trained on the buildings around them in case there were more than one assailants.
"I don't know." Claire shook her head. Awfully calm, Wolf noted.
"You were in the house?" Eagle spared a comment amid his surveillance. "It's okay, you can tell us. It's not a crime with us."
"You knocked." She relented without further persuasion. "I know police isn't good, so I ran. And then, as soon as I climbed out of the window, that guy started shooting at me." Claire grabbed the upper section of her sleeves and glanced at the rip. "Nicked me too, and I nearly tripped over my own feet. Look, just let me go. You guys don't know what's going down."
"Oh we know," Eagle quipped dryly. "Assassins, right? Relax, we just want to know where Mayford is."
"If I do, will you let me go?"
"We'll…consider it." That would be a hard fat no.
"Then I'm not telling you."
Fox caught his eyes and shrugged when Wolf asked the silent question. The girl was just a kid. Looked barely of age. They could let her go; she wasn't their objective. But her having been shot at was a game changer. People were after her for siding with Fletcher and Mayford. She wasn't safe on the streets. But where could they bring her to?
"How 'bout this: you tell us where Mayford is, and we'll get you a hotel room. Get some guards too. You're not safe out here alone."
"Please," at this, she rolled her eyes. "I can take care of myself. New deal: I tell you what I know about Mayford's whereabouts, and I go free. I'm not your responsibility, man, so don't make me."
Fox nodded at Wolf as he glanced at the alley. "Fine. Where's Mayford?"
"Well," she cleared her throat. "No idea."
Sounded like they just got played. Before she could run off, Wolf grabbed her by the arm. "Sit back down. What do you mean no idea?"
"Mayford left with the other dude, Fletcher, earlier this morning." She shrugged off his grip easily. "They said they were going for a stroll around the neighborhood and be back at noon."
Eagle glanced at his watch. "It's two. I guess they didn't come back?"
"Nope. Now can I go? I've got places to be."
"Did they tell you where they're headed? Any idea where they might've gone."
Claire shook her head. She didn't know. She looked like she didn't know either. Sighing, Wolf released her. Fox slowly straightened and peered into the alley. Moments later, he shook his head. Whoever it was, they were gone. When they turned back to face the girl, she was gone as well.