The meetings were painfully long, addressing every concern regarding the rebels' latest insurgence and what efforts will be in place for the future. Yassen and his team were handling one aspect of that conflict but it was with a different contract, a different buyer. His present company did not need to be aware of that and it had been his sole purpose in attending this conference himself. Confidentiality in operations is a featured offer of Scorpia; his present company will likely never know that a subset of the rebels are being handled as the conference dragged on.
Talks would continue throughout tomorrow and his birthday. Staving off his mild disappointment for the ordeal, he could look forward to when he did get back; perhaps they'd take a trip on Yassen's yacht or perhaps—Alex hoped—some time away from the chaos in Yassen's cabin. Alex always had the fondest memories there: the peace and quiet, the steady routine, the hikes.
Snapping out of his daydream, he focused back on the discussion—bickering, mostly—between the two generals.
A third one took over the conversation and suggested they map out the terrain on foot to better understand the situation. Agreements could be heard and Alex followed as they discussed the traffic and environment conditions.
Reaching their last stop of the tour—a former military building abandoned after the first rebel insurgents launched a tear gas attack—Alex knew immediately something was off. Aside from Marcus stiffening beside him, the world slowed for him and his senses heightened.
Alex was closely packed in from other people by his security and the sidewalks were clear except for a few stragglers and the two generals-acting-tour guides.
With the sun directly overhead and the humidity, Alex was sweating through his suit, tie, and under protective garments. While mildly uncomfortable, that wasn't what was nagging at his senses.
Hands from his own security shoved Alex downward, ducking his head.
A movement. A glint of metal. A shot sounded shortly before Scorpia's own snipers took action and returned fire.
Marcus stumbled and shouted orders. Alex was rushed into the abandoned building and Scorpia agents swarmed the area. The generals getting lost in the chaos.
Alex could do nothing as he saw Marcus hit the pavement, ducking from stray bullets, and watch as blood flowed from a hole through his hip.
"Get him out, NOW!"
Marcus returned first as shots from the other rooftops fired at the sniper.
Shoved back from the doors, Alex was flanked on all sides.
He heard Shale call into comms, "We need extraction," and continue to arrange their transport.
Adams approached him in their defensive position. "Are you hurt?"
"No, I don't think so."
Alex ran a hand thrown his hair and his wrist was caught by medic with a pointed look. The bullet tearing through Marcus seems to graze his forearm.
"This was too close," Adams said with a shake of his head.
The fire fight outside quieted down but they weren't safe yet.
From 0 to 60, so much happened in the next few breaths. The ground shook unnaturally—clearly the effects of a seismic device—and cracks fissured in the the floor and ceiling. Alex was grabbed—bodily shielded—by Adams and they all fell through the floor. The building's weakened base structure fell like a house of cards on Alex and his team, the floor engulfing them in splintered wood, dust, and debris.
Outside, the area was overwhelmed by Scorpia agents and security eliminating everyone not recognized as their own.
Marcus could only watch on in mute horror as the destruction unfolded.
Yassen, only a few miles away finishing up the conflict of his own mission, checked his phone just as a noticing several messages; the first reading: Code Black.
Instantly his phone rang and he picked up the call from the Marcus.
No pleasantries or small talk. "The meeting was compromised. Sniper fire. Took a bullet and returned fire to allow time to redirect Sagitta and try and get Orion to safety. It was a setup. There was seismic device. The building fell on Sagitta and Orion."
Yassen froze. He knew Alex was a trouble magnet but never did he anticipate this.
"Details?"
"An excavation team has started; equipment is on its way. Two of Sagitta were found, only one alive. No sign yet of Orion, sir."
"Health monitor?"
"The doctor said there was a spike in heart rate and a drop in blood pressure before it all dropped to zero."
"How long ago was this?"
"A little over 20 minutes ago."
His heart beat heavily in his chest. All those years keeping Alex alive and he might lose him hours away from his 18th birthday. He may have lost him already.
Time was ticking and Yassen heard enough. Weighing the risks of going to Alex himself, he had hoped setting the precedent from previous instances of Alex's injury would minimize any risk of Alex's attack being further a trap from himself.
Even still, Alex's death was an unacceptable loss. He would either ensure it would not come to pass or personally ensure the individual responsible would pay dearly for his loss.
"Expand Scorpia's area of control by five miles and Danube will act in reconnaissance."
He ended the call without waiting for Marcus's reply and addressed his own commanders. He was cold and direct with his orders but as awareness of a complication in Hurghada spread, their immediate obedience and swift action went without further hesitation. Any further clean up of his own mission would be swiftly handled by his team.
Alex came to awareness in dingy air and a claustrophobic space. Steadily, he did a self checklist of injuries. Dampness seeping into his right pant leg and abdomen—seemingly unrelated to the dampness in the space—was the first thing that came to his attention—certainly some superficial damage. His head was foggy at best and he hardly registered feeling in most of his outer extremities—a concussion (hopefully mild, though wishful thinking) and circulation issues.
His midsection was elevated and pinned between two hard surfaces, the one at his back roughly digging in to his lower back and his head dangled uncomfortably putting excess strain on his neck.
Alex shifted mildly and struggled to breathe, recalling with uncomfortable clarity the time he was shot through his lung. Though this time, it appeared the large beam laying across his chest blocking his view of his lower half was likely the cause of his breathing troubles.
Turning his head slowly so as not to aggravate his likely concussion, he assessed the space. Light filtered in through crevices suggesting Alex wasn't too far underground.
"Hey!" he called out but it was garbled and a copper taste registered in his mouth and he coughed viciously to clear it.
The ringing in Alex's ears dampened the sounds around him but he saw some debris trickle from above and water pouring in from a hole at his periphery.
Blinking blearily, the feeling of weightlessness became far too enticing as he drifted unconscious.
Alex woke again to a loud grinding sound of metal.
More debris shifted and a figure came into view. Striking blue eyes met his. Yassen.
Dirt covered Yassen's hands and speckled his clothes but otherwise he looked normal.
Alex, from a position where his head dangled upside down, watched as Yassan's mouth moved, issuing commands to the troops before coming to Alex's side.
Alex was beyond relieved that Yassen went and braced Alex's head with his hands, easing the tension in his neck.
The ringing drowned out Yassen's voice but lip-reading helped Alex get the gist of what he was saying down to him: "Don't move", "stay awake", and "stay alive."
His head felt like lead and he could only blink in affirmation, though that last command sent his mind adrift to his conversation with Yassen all those years ago:
"I hate you," he remembered himself saying.
"At least you are alive to do so," was Yassen's response.
He doesn't hate Yassen anymore but maybe it was fitting that this might be the end for him now. He had been in a close calls but getting a building dropped on him made the rest pale in comparison.
His attention snapped away from his melancholy thoughts when he felt the ground vibrate with the shifting of things and excruciating pain in his left leg, but it wasn't until the beam laying across his chest shifted that he grunted and squirmed. Breathing was challenging before but now it felt impossible.
Yassen quick to notice his change in demeanor, halted the efforts of the soldiers excavating him and kneeled at his side, checking him over and realized the issue: the beam now cut off his air supply. Alex hit his hand repeatedly on the beam as he struggled to breathe.
Though his view was angled because of his positioning, he saw a medic run in from behind Yassen, sloshing through the water, clutching an oxygen tank and mask but Alex's vision darkened. The last thing he saw was Yassen over him yelling orders with a look in his eyes Alex had never seen before: fear.