A/N: Happy Monday, everyone! Very excited for today's chapter, as everything is starting to heat up. :) Always love hearing your thoughts, even if I'm terrible and slow to respond.
O
Yassen pulled into the cabin's carport and turned off the car. Considered his pack of cigarettes. Internally negotiated with himself (it had been forty five minutes at least since his last one) before stepping out of the car to light up. The air had a nip to it he disliked, but he stayed outside to finish it anyway. Plumes of smoke drifted up and away from his lips as he exhaled, fluttering across the breeze into the aspens and pines clustered about the property. His life was full of these little compromises now. While he hardly cared if the landlord were to complain, Yassen really did try to negate any serious risks to Alex of secondhand smoke.
The last thing he needed was to give the damn kid asthma.
Tapping his cigarette, he considered the dark cabin. Alex was probably still out for his walk. He'd left shortly before Yassen had decided to make the thirty minute sojourn to the sole gas station at the foot of the canyon. Yassen frowned around the thin cylinder clutched between his lips. Alex had been unusually moody these last two days. Hot and cold might be a more accurate way to describe it, though it was so inconsistent it was impossible to tell if any one thing was setting him off. Not for the first time, he found himself wishing the boy came with an instruction manual and troubleshooting guide. It was impossible to tell if Alex was having mood swings or if Yassen was just doing this "encouraging independence" approach wrong.
For instance, yesterday he'd bitten his own tongue before he could remind Alex to wear his coat on his walk. Yassen had stood there, in the hallway, and forced himself to remain silent. It had been hard. His was a legitimate concern. While the doctor had confirmed that Alex's body was unreliably regulating its temperature, Yassen was also painfully aware that Alex had to make his own decisions and that those decisions could include neglecting his own health.
He'd looked pointedly at Alex's thick coat, hanging on the rack.
The boy didn't seem to notice.
"Forgetting something?" he'd asked, unable to help himself.
Alex followed his gaze. "I don't know. Am I?"
Now the boy was just playing dumb. Yassen had refused to be dragged into an argument. He'd already interfered enough. "Do what you want."
"Fine." Instead of enjoying the obvious room to decide for himself, Alex glowered at him and slammed the door shut behind him. Yassen had been startled, but ultimately decided against going after him. That was a mistake. Alex had stayed out an extra two hours beyond his usual stroll, returning only when the tips of his fingers had begun to turn blue. Yassen suspected he'd done it out of pure spite. Even after he'd stepped inside, Alex stubbornly refused to make any effort to warm himself beyond being indoors.
It was only when Alex pulled open the empty fridge and stood there, obviously shivering as he surveilled the near non-existent contents, that Yassen had snapped.
Slamming it shut, he'd demanded, "What is wrong with you?" Without waiting for an answer, he'd grabbed Alex's noticeably colder wrist and dragged him up the stairs.
Counterintuitively, Alex's attitude had immediately improved as Yassen shoved him fully clothed under the spray of a hot shower. Sense and reason had clearly abandoned them both, but that certainly didn't stop Yassen from frantically trying to decipher why. It wasn't the spiteful glee of having gotten a rise out of him. He hadn't managed to "win" anything from Yassen either- not extra pills or promises for more junk food or anything. Perhaps it was blood flow finally being restored to his idiot brain, but Yassen doubted it. Alex had been unhappy before he'd gotten cold.
"You're just like Jack," Alex said in lieu of a complaint, wincing as his frozen skin slowly thawed. The warmth almost seemed to make him shiver harder as he wrapped his wet arms around himself. "She always thought a hot bath would cure everything. Colds. Stomach aches. Bubonic plague."
Yassen had ignored the comment then, not quite sure what to do with it. He'd been mentally preparing for a fight, not… this.
Alex rarely spoke of his dead housekeeper. Perhaps he was cross with him because he hadn't assured him that they would definitely visit her grave? That hardly made sense; a shower shouldn't fix that kind of frustration or uncertainty. Besides, if that was what Alex had wanted, he would have argued harder when Yassen had warned him they would need to be wary of surveillance. Mystified, Yassen hovered until he was convinced Alex was back up to temperature before Alex had cheerfully toweled off and suggested they watch a film downstairs. He'd stared at Alex's reflection in the window for most of it, wishing he could decipher what was going on in that stupid head. Or at least use the damn iPod's special features himself. Maybe Briar could take a stab at the motivations behind this bizarre behavior.
He flicked away his cigarette and stamped on it. He'd just have to figure it out. Eventually.
Hand hovering over the doorknob, Yassen froze. Just the lightest of scratches in the metal, barely visible in the late afternoon light. Those hadn't been there this afternoon when he'd locked the door behind him. He glanced at the windows. Still dark. Even if Alex had beaten him back, the boy almost always used the front door. It was closer to the road than the side door that ran through the carport on the opposite side of the house.
Someone else had been here. Someone trained, but not immune from leaving signs that most others would miss.
Yassen stood there longer than he should have. He should have left immediately- he was armed, but he had no idea who was inside or how many of them there were. Unless he already possessed any information that made attacking practical, immediate flight was the next best tactical response. He had the car and a decent knowledge of the roads in the area. It was the smart choice.
Pulling out his phone, he dialed Alex. It went straight to voicemail.
Now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure if Alex had the phone on him when Yassen had shoved him under a stream of hot water last night. His fists clenched around the plastic casing. Careless. A mundane but equally probable explanation was that he was hiking one of the easier mountain trails just outside of cell range. Maybe Alex was simply cross with him and rejecting his calls. Regardless of the reason, there was no way to reach him, to warn him.
That was, of course, assuming Alex was still out on his walk….
Slamming his phone shut, he made the snap decision to unlock the door and shove it open anyway. Two armed men stood guard in the mudroom, weapons raised to chest-level as he entered. No suits, no earpieces, non-standard equipment for law enforcement or military- Scorpia, most likely. A small extraction team, if he had to guess. Yassen kept his movements measured as he shut the door behind him, making no move to reach for his own weapon.
Neither of the men moved to attack him. From the living room, a familiar voice called, "So he's arrived at last? Show him in."
Yassen stepped forward, face carefully blank as he passed the two guards. Four more waited in the living area, spread strategically to peer through the windows and cover the main exits. The slight scuff of boots clued him in to the presence of guards in the front entrance as well. Two pairs of boots scraping against the entrance tile? He listened a touch more carefully. Yes, two. So far, that totalled eight, not counting any that may be upstairs or spread out across the property.
Dr. Steiner sat cross legged on one of the squishy armchairs that flanked the sofa, staring at fluttering gas flames of the fireplace. Dressed in a three piece wool suit, complete with his usual silver spectacles, he looked more like a literature professor on a mountain retreat than a terrorist organization's chief therapist. "Ah, Yassen. How good of you to join me. Have a seat."
No sign of Alex.
Yassen sat on the armchair across from the man, his back to the operatives in the hallway. Tactically speaking, it was a poor position, but it was also a confident one. Yassen was a cautious man, but he knew the value of throwing his enemies off balance. Besides, he was far more concerned with keeping Steiner in sight than the guards. He quickly pulled out his phone and texted Alex before snapping it shut and setting it on the arm of his chair- all in less than three seconds. "You're a long way from Malagosto, Doctor."
Steiner inclined his head, flicking a glance at one of the men who immediately strode forward to retrieve the phone. "I assume you've heard of the unfortunate raid on our training facility. Well, these things happen, of course. Scorpia was hardly unprepared. We can discuss that some more, if you'd like, before we move on to more pressing matters."
Being prepared didn't intuitively explain why the man wasn't in prison where he belonged. Not that Yassen was one to talk. "Say what you came to say."
Whatever drivel the doctor had been tasked with conveying would tell Yassen plenty about the priorities of those pursuing him. The instant he'd stepped inside, he realized that Scorpia could not be counted on to lose interest in them. Eventually, Yassen would have to either disappear completely or eradicate the threat. Perhaps not today, but if sitting through some horseshit was the price he had to pay to buy Alex time to escape, he would. The rest could be sorted as he went.
O
Stepping off of the hiking trail and into cell range for the first time in an hour, Alex stared at his phone screen. Frozen in the act of pulling his earbud out as though it would help him see better.
His brain recoiled from the letters. Surely there was some sort of benign, alternative translation of Yassen's words that didn't have his entire nervous system switching on high alert. Orchestral reggae blared out the little speaker clutched between his limp fingers, but it sounded as though it were coming from underwater.
One missed call. Yassen.
One text. Scorpia cabin go
They'd found them. Alex couldn't stop himself from twisting around on the road, as though dozens of armed men were going to stream out from in between the winter cabins and summer homes tucked into the warren of nonsensical roads that wound between the trees. No such forces descended on him, possibly because he was on the opposite end of the resort town. In fact, he'd just stepped off the small hiking trail that branched into this side of the neighborhood. Oakris wasn't large by any means, though, and Alex knew better than to think he was safe. Even at a sedate walking speed, he wasn't more than fifteen minutes away from the cabin. If he continued to stay out in the open like this, anyone sent to look for him could do it easily in under a half hour.
Alex bit his lip and texted back. meet?
Now that they were both thoroughly versed on how miserable being separated during an attack could be, Yassen and him had sorted out a set of contingency plans that didn't require knowing the initial layout of the area. Call immediately in the event of trouble. Text if possible. If they couldn't contact each other, they should both head to the first restaurant they'd eaten at when arriving at their current location to meet up. What situation did this fall under? Yassen had gotten ahold of him, but the text message was unclear on what he expected Alex to do. Should he leave town or go to the meet point?
No response.
Yassen's message just said go, not meet. Go where? Out of town? Alex didn't have the car. Even if he could steal one (and he couldn't), it had been years since he'd driven with Ian and he wasn't sure he remembered how to do much more than steer. Yassen had planned on showing him, but hadn't wanted to risk it after finding out about the seizures. The town had a small shuttle bus, but that had been stopped ages ago because the season was so dry. He was effectively trapped in town, unless Alex could persuade anyone else to give him a ride without asking too many questions. Alex hadn't bothered talking to anyone, not that there were more than twenty non-vacationers in town to begin with. Apart from persuading a stranger to discreetly help him, his next best bet was to hike to the gas station and hitchhike from there. That would take hours and he'd be exposed on the only road into town.
Still no response.
Come on. Come on. He desperately wanted to dial Yassen's number and ask, but if he hadn't called him a second time or texted Alex to call him….
Alex pressed his palm against his eye sockets. Fuck. It was possible that Yassen had merely observed Scorpia's arrival at the cabin from afar, but Alex was far from optimistic. The message he'd gotten had little regard for proper punctuation and capitalization- something Yassen was meticulous about, even more so than Alex. He'd been in a hurry then, assuming no one had stolen his phone to impersonate him. If everything was fine, why hadn't he kept calling? Why had he not told Alex to call when he got the message? Did he have a plan?
No. Yassen's plan was to not get caught. If he hadn't kept calling after seeing Scorpia arrive at the cabin, it was probably because he couldn't.
Scorpia had him.
Grinding his teeth, Alex did a quick inventory. He had his handgun. He had his iPod. He had his bullet proof shirt on. He was reasonably sober. If he stuck to the woods instead of the streets, he could get a good look at the property from one of the neighbors'. He knew the way. If Yassen's car was gone, Alex would proceed to the meet point. If Yassen's car was there….
He groaned. Maybe Yassen was planning on taking off, but Alex couldn't just leave him.
Should worse come to worse, there was always his panic button. The authorities were a last resort, though. He'd just have to figure something else out.
