"Line one connects you and Daniels." Yassen handed both spies a pair of jet black ear coms.
"Line two will direct to me. And line three will direct you to back up."
"I thought this was a stealth track." Ben paused fiddling with his earpiece.
"It is a precaution. In the case there are no emergencies, no one should know the excursion is being tracked."
"Got it." Ben nodded.
Yassen wasted no time in tossing the black duffle towards Ben.
"One standard issue rifle, silencer, and a standard-issue handgun. The ammunition is in the bag." Ben squatted, balanced on the balls of his feet as he methodically checked through the weapons kit, loading the guns with practiced dexterity.
"Rifle and silencer. I trust you've checked over your gun." He tossed another smaller bag toward Alex.
The blond followed suit, checking and rechecking before loading up.
"I am sure I do not have to tell either of you to be aware of your surroundings. Even more so with this excursion." He swept a cold gaze over Alex who fought a sudden wave of chill down his spine.
"There will be twenty-seven targets to cover this time. No room for mistakes. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir."
Ben grunted an affirmative.
"Good. They will be moving out shortly. Get some space."
And with one coms check, they ran toward the line of trees, black on blackhead to toe getting further and further into the darkness with each step until the darkness of the forest ate them up.
"Alright. Listen up! There are six total checkpoints to make within this excursion. You must check in to all six. Failure to do so will have you binned. If you are hurt, do not hesitate to call for the med squad. Failure to report any serious injuries such as, but not limited to: breaks, sprains, head/neck/back injuries, injuries causing considerable blood loss, and weapons-related injuries, will have you binned. And lastly, if you see anything suspicious, do not I repeat, do not hesitate to call back up and let them know."
Yes, sir-s echoed around the parade ground as all twenty-seven trainees stood at attention, decked out in stealth camo, rucksacks at their feet, staring straight ahead unreactive as the rain began to pick up making the cold air even colder.
"Supplies at the ready."
In the chaos of shuffled movements, they hauled nearly forty kilos of supplies onto their back, wiggling and adjusting to what would be twenty-four kilometers of fan dance hell. All within the time span of a little more than four hours.
"Any last-minute questions? Famous last words?" Eagle smirked, gently teasing.
No one so much as blinked, getting progressively soaked in cold water in cold air wanting to just get it over with.
"In that case, on your mark. Get set. Go!"
They took off without another word.
"Good luck ya poor bastards!" was the last thing that echoed before they were gone.
"Wha' th-fuu-fuck-"
Tom groaned, picking his head up from the rattling window in dazed confusion and a headache of a whole new proportion. He winced, blinked owlishly, staring out into what just looked like endless darkness covered by the racket of rain and the occasional rumble of thunder.
From his window to the front window and then to the driver's window only to minor blackout, breathing rapidly as he scrambled as far away as he could from the man in the driver seat.
"No no no no! Where am I?!
"You were needed."
"You couldn't just ask ?! Like a normal person?"
"Would you have come willingly?" Tom could have sworn there had been a flicker of amusement on the assassin's face.
What exactly it was that he found so humorous? Tom couldn't say. But it was unsettling, to say the least.
"Probably not, but it's the fucking thought that counts. Freaking spies…" Tom hissed, falling heavily back against the seat, arms crossed with a groggy scowl on his face.
"I am far from what most would consider a spy ."
"I know that." Tom snapped back.
"I know you're an assassin. You work for-or used to work for SCORPIA, the terrorist organization that single-handedly fucked up my entire sleeping schedule year twelve. Bastards…" he grumbled.
"I know you're supposed to have been dead. But you're not. But then again, shit like that seems to happen a lot in Alex's line of work."
Yassen quirked a brow, keeping his eyes on the darkness in front of him.
"You're really good at what you do, and what you do involves torture, I'm sure. Wouldn't be surprised. But you've also taught Alex too, at some point. Right? The whole branding thing he was talking about the first lecture. You were his mentor."
"Is that a question?"
Tom deliberated, chewing at his lip as he stared out the window into the pitch-black surroundings.
"Why isn't he dead?" it came out and in all honesty, Tom almost wished he could take it back. The word vomit of his rapidly cycling mind.
But he needed to know.
The one question his brain just wouldn't let go of out of the hundreds that had formed in the absolute chaos of the last couple days.
"They tried to assassinate him four-five years ago. They wouldn't miss the second time around. But he was SCORPIA for at least four months and he tried to run. Again . If they're as deadly as he's been lecturing, how is he still alive?"
"There are some waters better left unagitated. Tom Harris. You may come to realize just how precarious the line between life and death can be."
"Is that a threat…?"
Yassen shrugged.
"A suggestion."
"Unbelievable. It's like talking to a fucking grandmaster turtle…" Tom rolled his eyes, huffing an irritated breath.
"He's a tortoise."
Tom froze, turning ever so slowly in complete shock.
"What did you just say?"
"Not a turtle. Oogway is a tortoise. Which makes you, Sifu, I presume."
"Get out . How-actually, never mind. I don't want to know. I-the fact that you of all people know-can say that…" he felt another wave of chills down his spine, only to be washed quickly away as they came to a stop.
"What are-where are we?" his eyes darted to the minimally lit dash of the darkened vehicle.
02:57.
Yassen wasted no time, reaching back to grab something, setting a pair of military issue socks and boots on Tom's sweatpants clad lap.
Tom, for what he was worth, skipped over the useless questions, unrolling and donning the socks and the boots before lacing them up tightly.
"This-" the man held up a neon orange stick.
"That's a-a flare pen launcher thing. Used it in camping.."
Yassen nodded, handing it over to Tom who gingerly accepted.
"And these." he handed over a small ziplock bag of what Tom could only guess were flares. He gave them a distracted look over before shoving them into the pocket of his hoodie.
Tom flinched at the sudden very sharp blade that appeared uncomfortably close to his face.
"Press the blade and handle together to shut. Flick the jutting area near the blade ring to open." Yassen demonstrated with practiced ease.
Tom shoved it into his pocket as well, turning so he was staring back straight ahead, mentally willing himself to keep calm.
Alone in a car being given supplies by an assassin at three in the morning on a freezing rainy December in the middle of nowhere was not something he could reassure himself was alright in any way. It was not alright.
He was not alright.
The whole situation was bound to be not alright. He didn't have to be a spy or enlisted to know that.
"Why am I here?" he asked, decently proud that he kept his voice leveled,
"You were needed."
"What could I possibly help you-"
"By Matthews."
Tom's blood ran cold at the mention of Alex's boss.
That psychopath …
"So I advise you to listen very carefully."
Tom's eyes widened, heart picking up pace as the adrenaline kicked in.
"You will get out of the car, shut the door and walk eight paces forward, back to the door."
Tom nodded stiffly.
"Count three-hundred seconds. That makes five minutes, Harris. No less. Do you understand?"
"Yes." he gritted out.
"And then you are going to launch a flare."
"It's raining…"
"It will not be a problem."
He didn't argue, choosing to sit in silence instead.
"Count to three hundred and launch another. Repeat this until you launch them all."
"And then?"
"And then you wait for instructions. Now get out."
Tom hesitated, taking one last deep breath, shooting the man a look of visible hatred before opening the door and stepping out into the freezing rain.
"What the hell was that?!" Wolf leaned in closer, squinting out of the rainy windshield.
"Back up. Back up. This is M121434 calling in from checkpoint five. Over."
The radio crackled to life.
"Copy. M121434. This is K711360 calling in from backup. What seems to be the problem? Over."
"There was an unidentified flare gone up some five kilometers from checkpoint 5. Over."
"Roger that, M121434. Flare has been noted. Someone from backup will go locate. Await further information. Over."
" Wilco. Over. "
"I reckon that's at least gonna take fifteen minutes with how fast the valley is filling up. Can't just go straight through this time. You gotta do a roundabout here-" Eagle adjusted the pen flashlight and pointed to a spot almost 2 kilometers back.
"-and then get up the hill and then go the extra 2 kilometers. And that's uphill ." he tapped the target area.
" Shit !" Wolf hissed, unbuckling himself.
"There's another one!" Snake exclaimed, leaning forward, eyes on the small red burst of light before it fizzled out.
"Eagle. Take the wheel." Wolf grabbed his rifle from on top of the dash, throwing his helmet on haphazardly before opening the door.
He promptly slammed it shut as something sailed by with a blood-chilling whistle, skid-bouncing across the hood before exploding midair dangerously close to the right side mirror with a sharp bang, stunning them all momentarily with a flash of bright light, then silence.
The silence broke as all of hell broke loose in an unmistakable shower of artillery that hit the entire left side of the humvee sending everyone reaching for helmets and rifles.
And just as abruptly as it had started, it ended, all signs of foul play washed away by the downpour and thunder.
They'd needed to move. Quickly.
Wolf didn't hesitate, stomping on the accelerator easily switching to tactical maneuvers.
They were going to get out unharmed, so help him. Whoever it was toying with them would get their due process. He'd make sure of that with his own two hands.
Another flare lit the air.
"Back up. Back up. This is M121434 calling in from checkpoint five. Over."
"Roger, M121434. This is backup K711360. Over." he coughed, gripping the radio.
" We have sights and tail on the possible hostile moving through Taf Fechan Forest area less than 2 kilometers from your current location. We will proceed with active fire as needed. Over."
"Roger that. Over."
Two kilometers meant that whoever it was that was running towards them had decided not to run towards the trainees, which Wolf was supremely thankful for. But it also meant that they had a possible hostile getting closer to them, meaning that they couldn't go any closer to the trainees or the checkpoint. Meaning that the only option they had was to reverse and leave the group open to rear attack or stay where they were, and neither option gave Wolf any sort of reassurance.
The situation was shit, to say the least.
" BACKUP. BACKUP. THIS IS M121434. COME IN-"
"This is back up. Over."
" We've got reports of ACTIVE FIRE no more than four meters from a group near the front. Requesting back up immediately. Over."
Wolf rushed to buckle up, stomping on the accelerator hissing curses.
"That doesn't make sense. If the possible hostile was two kilometers from us, we're six kilometers behind the very back of the group. Eight from the front. They'd have to have run six kilometers in less than three minutes. There's no way-" Snake argued from the back.
"Checkpoint five. Come in, Checkpoint five. This is K711360. Over."
There was a momentary pause.
"K711360, this is Checkpoint five. Over."
"Checkpoint five, what is the current status of the potential hostile? Over."
"Another flare just went up.
There was another, longer pause.
"Backup. We have a man down. I repeat, man down."
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!" Wolf hissed, angrily slamming the radio against the wheel.
"Checkpoint five. What's the status?" Snake pointedly took the radio out of Wolf's hand.
"Unconscious but breathing. No sign of heat-related injury. His helmet is still on. Over."
"Roger that. Hang on. We're almost there. Over."
"We've got a problem."
"I'm going to need a little more clarification, Ben."
"I found the flares."
Alex almost all but tripped straight across the gnarled root under his feet at the sudden announcement.
" Just the flares?"
"No one's here."
" Fuck !" Alex hissed, chancing a glance around him.
The group had diverted to the right instead of continuing on straight as they would, veering off towards the stream that ran along the Taf Fechan near the outskirts of the trees, probably dangerously swollen from the downpour.
And backup would be arriving soon, meaning that there would be someone else trailing him as well. Trailing him with guns if his hunch was right. They probably already labeled him as a possible hostile.
The fact that he had taken out the first guy didn't really help his case.
But informing them of his and Daniel's added presence would more than likely be known to the shooter, and the chances of catching them would plummet significantly. Something he wasn't about to let happen.
Not now. Not like this.
Not on the first assignment.
Yassen would be furious.
"I'm following them in."
Tom cursed for the thousandth time, half in irritation and a half in wired panic as his growingly numb fingers fumbled with the last flare, unable to set it off properly.
He was tired and cold and drenched to the bone, but most importantly, he was scared.
There was no need to lie.
He was absolutely, mind-numbingly terrified .
There he was, a nineteen-year-old civilian with minimal knowledge of safety skills, shooting flares in the middle of a fucking special forces training excursion by himself with only a knife with a blade a little bigger than six centimeters, roughly the size of the palm of his hand. Against a gunfight, he'd be dead in seconds.
But he couldn't just walk right through the excursion to turn himself in. And he didn't know where Gregorovich was, which was problematic because he was positive the man was omnipresent and could most definitely pop up in seconds and slash his throat or something equally movie villainesque.
The man was just scary like that.
So when he heard a shrill whistle coming from extremely close behind, it was understandable that he almost had a heart attack then and there, dropping the flare and launcher altogether.
It took a few seconds of paranoid looking around before he realized where the noise was coming from.
Nearly choked himself by how fast and aggressively he latched on to his hood to pull it to the front, fishing out whatever it was that was emitting the unsettling noise.
How had he not felt that…?
It was about as big as a blackberry, with a thick square of metal attached.
He clicked the call button, hesitating a moment before bringing it to his ear.
"H-hello?"
" Fifteen paces to your right. Go ."
He wasted no time, turning on his heels to his right, counting his pages internally.
" Follow the hill down. Watch your footing. The rocks are slippery ."
Tom took a breath, blood rushing as he realized just how far up he actually was.
He cursed as he nearly lost his footing, latching on to the wild roots growing around from under the rocks.
Breathe. It's gonna be fine. He repeated in his head as he continued his climb down.
Step by step by step until he was on flat ground again.
"Do you see the two boulders in the middle of the stream?"
"Yes." he gritted out, wiping excess rain from his eyes.
" Run ."
And before he could say anything else, the line went dead.
"Then get back over here as soon as you-"
Oh.
Oh shit…
"Alex? Alex? Come in. Al-"
He heard his hearing tunnel as Ben and the surrounding sound of rain and thunder fell away leaving nothing but ringing in his ears.
This isn't real. This can't be real.
He was about to genuinely lose his mind.
"Alex. I'm-I'm so sorry, mate. I didn't know-"
Tom fumbled, gazing back with wide pleading eyes looking properly terrified, gripping on to a familiar little gadget.
But all Alex could focus on was the little red dot dancing around the edge of his best friend's right brow.
The sudden thud of a humvee's door slamming brought all of the sounds back at once, sending his heart racing, gaze tearing sudden to his right, just in time to see an eerily familiar scene play out as the slender canister sailed pass him, landing almost silently before embedded in the mushy terrain mere centimeters from where Eagle and Coyote.
He was running even before his brain caught up.
Five
No. Not again.
Four
This wasn't what he wanted. They weren't who needed saving.
Three
He almost stumbled in his haste to bend down and grab the offending object, appearing out of seemingly nowhere behind the two who whirled around, hands already on their trigger primed to shoot.
Two
He dug his heels in deep, throwing it as hard and as far as he could.
One.
He heard the gunshot before he went down, failing to drag the other two down with him to cover for an explosion that never came.
At least, not the explosion he had been expecting as the characteristic white-hot heatwaves and shrapnel were replaced with an air-ripping noise followed by a blinding flash, and then nothing.
Alex just laid there, frozen in momentary shock as uncomfortable realization washed over him.
He'd fucked up again.
The ringing in his ears was what disappeared first, replaced by the woosh of rushing of blood in his ears.
Reality was setting in like the nauseating waves in his gut, but he wasn't in any condition to accept it.
Accept the fact that he had, within less than a handful of seconds, unconsciously abandoned his best friend. Put him in danger and left him there, as if Tom stood any chance against whoever it was conducting this nightmare situation.
Of course he wouldn't. As smart as he was and how well adjusted to chaos he managed to be, there was a limit.
This was the real world of spies and assassins and gruesome deaths. And unlike the movies, no matter how skilled they happen to be, and how much potential they had, there would be no magical civilian to spy transformation.
It was nothing more than an overly glorified rose colored dream. Unrealistic and dangerous in this line of work.
And now he got to experience just how painfully true it all was, because Tom was gone.
Dead.
For forever. And he didn't even get to say goodbye.
'Get up.' It was sharp, even in his head, devoid of any mercy poking through the grief and shock that was slowly starting to set in.
Always so demanding. Bringing out the scope of his own cruelty against him.
' Get up and finish what you started.'
Alex couldn't argue any sort of excuse. In retrospect, the majority of responsibility actually did lay heavily on his shoulders.
He'd been at it for years .
He should have known better.
Done better. Even before getting ordered back to Beacon.
Far back months ago where he'd really screwed up. The domino effect from back then up until now really shouldn't have been so surprising.
It was bound to happen, and he had no one else to blame but himself.
It was his fault the chaos of an op had failed so badly to begin with. He had been recklessly humane when he should have been merciless and cruel.
And as much as he wanted to believe otherwise, he knew he'd been selfish for not cutting ties, keeping Tom close. Truly and honestly thinking that he could really keep Tom safe forever, as if that would make everything okay.
' There are still four left. Get them out.'
A part of him almost didn't comply, fighting against the resolution in his head. Hoping he'd just give in for once.
But training always trumped feelings. It was what had kept him alive for so long, and what he would continue to do. As much as he absolutely hated himself for it.
He rolled over slowly, pushing past the jelly feeling in his arms to sit up.
Snake launched out of the humvee, med kit in hand rushing to Alex's side.
"Hey- hey . Calm down. You're gonna hur-" the spy shoved Eagles' steadying hand off of his arm, all but ignoring the sudden shaky haze in his head as he pushed himself back on his feet, wobbling dangerously from the whiplash as he spun toward the trees.
He needed to check with his own two eyes. To make sure it wasn't what happened before.
And then he'd get back to work.
He just needed-
Shit…
A familiar numbness took a hold of his face as ice cold tendrils of dread wound themself around his lungs, squeezing painfully leaching the very air from them.
" No . no. no no no. No! " he muttered frantically, scrubbing shaky hands through his hair., attention criss crossing around, jolting here and there in panicked pieces of a circle, clearly shaken by something. What exactly it was? None of them could even begin to guess.
"Cub-"
" Don't touch me." Snake flinched, wrenching his hand away, putting his hands up in a show of surrender.
'Get it together. Focus!'
The sudden aggression was one thing. But the feverish look in the spy's wide eyes was what had Snake's heart careening down to his gut.
There was no better way to explain it. He genuinely looked... unhinged. Setting everybody on edge.
" Back up. Back up. This is Delta Blue. Do you read? Over."
Alex froze, snapping out of the haze of wild panic, realization hitting him in the gut. He'd just dropped off out of nowhere in the middle of communication, leaving Fox at risk with no back up. Of course the man would be worried...
Wolf hastily pulled the radio from it's clip on his belt,
""Delta Blue, this is K711360. Over."
"We've got a problem." the man on the other side dropped the protocols, jumping straight to the point.
"Who is this?" Wolf mirrored sharply, glancing up at Alex, mentally begging whatever merciful diety was watching to please, please not let this be connected to SO. There was just bound to be oceans of paperwork and-
"Fox."
Damn it. Wolf grimaced, thankfully able to hold in a sorely wanted disgruntled sigh, refocusing immediately.
"What the hell is going on, Fox? Where even are you?"
"Somewhere between checkpoint five and six. But that's not important right now!"
Wolf's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Frown deepening as he was suddenly all too aware of the implications of the spy's presence.
They weren't safe.
" Cub's MIA. He just dropped off somewhere in the forest. I can't reach him."
The pieces fell into place, realization dawning. And just like that, Alex was suddenly on the receiving end of four apprehensive stares.
"He's been found." Wolf replied shortly, not taking his eyes off the blond.
"By who?"
"Well, technically he found us ."
Alex tapped his earpiece.
"I ran into a problem in the forest that required... undivided attention ." it was devoid of the aggression and panic that had been unleashed only moments prior. He needed to hold on for just a little longer. He was already under scrutiny from 6. He didn't need Ben's overbearing concern either.
They didn't need anymore ammo against him than they already had.
"I'm gonna let it go for now. But you better have a detailed fucking explaination, Rider. None of this cloak and dagger bull."
"Duly noted." he muttered dryly."
The radio in Wolf's hand crackled back to life.
"They've terminated the excursion when the live fire happened. They're waiting for transportation from base to arrive. "
"So what happens now?"
"Everyone needs to get back to base. They'll need time to piece things together before they do anything else. But whatever it was that happened with the flares and live fire, it wasn't SO, and most definitely wasn't SAS."
Wolf's brow scrunched in bewilderment. There was no way that SO was uninvolved. The whole situation practically reeked of 6's secrecy.
"Look. I'll try to explain back at base. Just, be careful, alright? This whole situation feels off-kilter, so keep your eyes peeled.. "