Fragmented Chapter 57: Split Second, an alex rider fanfic

Chapter 57: Split Second

Alex stared as Mickey waved the set of forks in the air, as if they were a great treasure. He failed to see how, exactly, two little forks would be instrumental in springing them from their cell. They could be used for stabbing, but a fork against a semi-automatic gun was more laughable than his attempt to bring a knife against a certified mad man.

Thankfully, Mickey brought the bottle of water back with him across the room. He shoved the bottle at Alex, then started looking over the forks – a gleam of intent in his eyes.

Alex swallowed down the water, gratefully. Clyde had waxed poetic about the changes he had made with the latest doses – before dosing Alex – and they had clearly worked. He remembered very little of the past twenty-four hours and even that was an assumption based on the fact that a new tray of food had been delivered while he was out.

Clyde had taken him just after the last tray was delivered.

Mickey settled onto the bed next to Alex, holding the forks in his hand. "These are our ticket out of here," he said in French.

Alex regarded him carefully. "What, we'll stab the guards until they give up their guns?" That would also be the worst time to make a move, because Clyde would know within minutes that something was up. If they were to get out, it would have to be at some point when Clyde wasn't expecting him.

Impossible.

It would be easier to create a distraction that let Mickey get out. He was the one who needed to get to safety, anyway.

Clyde would mess up one of these days – he had already started talking about blood toxicity from the combination of drugs. Even if Alex got out, he sincerely doubted that there wouldn't be any side effects. The spotty memories were already bad enough.

"Alex," There was a note of excitement in his voice, "I can…" He seemed to fumble for the right word. "Open the lock."

Alex blinked, parsing through the translation in his head. Open the lock.

Because Mickey had been the one to break into the clinic to get supplies, an eternity ago.

"The spoons weren't working, but this…" He took one of the tines and, using the other fork handle for leverage, started carefully bending it out of shape. "And we have at least several hours that Clyde won't be sending for you. It's our best chance."

It's your best chance.

But Mickey was proving as stubborn as the rest of his unit had been.

Too stubborn for his own good.

Alex glanced down at his still shaking hands and legs. Whatever had happened in the last twenty-four hours, he wasn't really in any shape to make an escape attempt.

And really, escape wasn't a reality for him. Clyde had made that clear.

Every time he had let himself think he might just get away; Clyde had only been a few steps behind.

Everything had been micromanaged from the start.

Mickey paused in his motions to stare at Alex, earnestly. "Get some rest, take a nap. We've got a couple of hours and we are getting out of here. Even if I have to drag you out, over my shoulder."

Alex rolled his eyes and knew that arguing would be useless at this point. At the very least, maybe he could do his best to make sure Mickey made it out.

Maybe.

A couple of hours of rest and a little food and water did wonders for Alex. The shakes had disappeared and for once, there didn't seem to be any lingering side-effects. He hadn't missed Mickey's watchful eye though and suspected that something had happened when he was first brought back to the cell.

His arm hurt and looked a mess, but there wasn't anything they were going to be doing about that with the current supplies. It was a miracle he still had feeling in his fingers and that he hadn't gained some sort of horrible infection or something. There were probably a few rounds of antibiotic shots thrown into Clyde's cocktails. Really, though Clyde's medical care was subpar, he had certainly guaranteed that Alex wouldn't die without his say so.

Now if only he could talk Mickey out of his ridiculous plan.

The man not only wanted to get out, but he also wanted to take Clyde down in the process – a daunting goal even without considering the fact that they had no weapons. Alex was all for creating havoc, but he also wanted Mickey to get out. He could create the havoc, easy. Mickey wanted the reverse.

The lights had dimmed to their lowest. As far as Alex and Mickey were concerned, it was the middle of the night. Neither of them had seen the sun since being captured by Clyde, so there was no telling whether that was the truth or not. If it was night time, then they maybe had an actual chance.

And if security were as poor here as it had been at Raab's place… then they might have half a chance at surprising a guard or two.

Of course, with no weapons, those chances were pretty skewed against them.

"You ready?" Mickey asked. He had finished bending the forks into facsimiles of themselves. One was still relatively untouched, whereas the other had its tines bent at several angles. Mickey seemed to know what he was doing, so Alex wasn't going to try to argue.

Alex gave a shrug. He was as ready as he was getting. Rest and recuperation was only going to go so far. He wasn't going to magically get back up to his previous level of function with a few more hours sleep.

And well…

Better to go out trying to do something, rather than waiting for Clyde to deliver him to death's doorstep.

"Once we're in the hall, we'll go left. Stick behind me and maybe we can catch someone unawares."

The maybe was a big part of the entire plan.

Mickey had cleared off the tray, but it was nothing more than a sheet of plastic. Alex doubted that it would do very much – but Mickey was also in considerably better condition than he was.

"If I tell you to run, run."

Alex gave Mickey a carefully blank expression. If it were to run without him, it wasn't going to happen. He wasn't willing to leave Mickey behind any more than Mickey was willing to leave him behind.

Mickey seemed to take that as for as good of an agreement as anything and went to the door. "Now, I haven't done this in several years, but…" He stuck the pieces of fork into the lock and started fiddling. Alex wasn't going to pretend he understood how it was supposed to work. "Captivity is a great motivator."

It was a long several minutes.

Had they gotten their hopes up too soon?

Just having the right tools – or closer to right tools – didn't magically mean that it was going to open.

Alex didn't doubt Mickey's self-proclaimed expertise, but… this was without all of his usual tools.

Click.

There was a hollow sound as the lock clicked out of place.

Mickey eased the door open, cautiously peering around the edge. No doubt looking for any guards nearby.

Not likely, since no one seemed to guard the corridors. And there were no visible cameras anywhere.

Mickey flashed what was no doubt some sort of hand signal, then did a double take at Alex's inaction. Then, he just waved Alex out into the hall.

The time for talking was past.

At least, for now.

It seemed too easy.

Like another set up.

Though, to be fair, it hadn't been a set up the last time. Maria had helped him escape, fair and square. Clyde had just managed to threaten and track him down – a little too successfully.

This though…

Well, after everything, it was hard to believe that he was getting another legitimate escape attempt.

Might as well try…

Alex crept down the hall, nearly on Mickey's heels. Neither of them had shoes – and their socks had seen far better days a long time ago – but that was perhaps working in their favor. Socked feet were much quieter against the cement floors.

Down the hall and to the left – away from what Alex's privately dubbed the torture room – and they hadn't run across any guards or signs of security systems.

Too good to be true.

Mickey halted just before one of the corners, gesturing Alex back against the wall. Alex froze as well, listening to the sounds around them.

There was the faintest sound of someone turning a page. Like they were reading a book. Probably a guard, somewhere around one of the corners. They might have had the element of surprise, but they also had no way of telling exactly where the guard was.

Mickey raised a finger to his lips, then held up two fingers and jerked his thumb toward the left hallway. Two guards to the left. He waved Alex back and crept forward to the corner. He held the plastic tray at the ready, though it would likely do nothing more than stun, not disable.

Then, without warning, he slipped around the corner and before Alex even had a chance to move, all he heard were several grunts and the sound of something much more substantial than flimsy plastic hitting flesh. And… right.

He was pretty much useless in the self-defense aspect. Half his body was more or less useless thanks to the broken arm.

"Alex!" His name was hissed, beckoning him to turn the corner.

The sight that met him was… a little more than he had expected. Clearly, Mickey was doing remarkably well, because he had managed to take out the two guards and was standing rather proudly over them with their own guns.

"Think you can manage a gun, one handed?" Mickey asked, keeping his voice low while rummaging through one of the unconscious guard's pockets.

Alex held out his hand wordlessly. It might be difficult to impossible to aim, but… he liked to think that something was better than nothing.

Maybe.

Mickey grabbed one of the radios and an earpiece, before handing over one of the smaller sidearms the guards had. He took one of the semi-automatic guns for himself.

"We'll keep going this way. Don't shoot unless you absolutely have to." He eyed Alex speculatively, likely calculating the odds that Alex would shoot him accidentally, what with his arm being out of commission. Probably high… "They were watching this direction, so there should be an entrance somewhere."

Alex followed Mickey down the hall, feeling only marginally more confident that they were going to make it out.

Where they were going to be when they got out was a completely different matter. Inconsequential in comparison to their current difficulties.

They just had to keep going silent. Once someone got wind of their little escape attempt, Alex had no doubt that it would be a completely different story.

Alex followed Mickey down the hall, his gun raised and ready. As if it would actually matter when it came down to it. Mickey had his own gun raised as he crept forward. The cement bricks offered little cover if someone turned the corner on them, but they were at least both able to move forward fairly silently.

Even straining his hearing, Alex couldn't hear much more than the anxious thud of his own heartbeat in his ears. It drowned out everything else and made him feel like he was walking forward blindly. With not a clue as to what might come around the corner.

Mickey flashed a hand signal for Alex to stop once again, waving him back against the wall as they approached another corner. This time though, there was a doorway that interrupted the expanse of wall – and that door was open.

Alex held his breath, listening, straining. There was the slightest murmur of voices, of papers rustling – as if someone were reading a newspaper – and the clack of someone typing on a computer. An old computer. A glance showed that there still weren't any security cameras though, even in a spot that was likely to have some importance.

Someone swore inside the room.

Alex flinched back.

This was it.

They were done for.

Someone had discovered them.

Muscles rippled in Mickey's back as he lifted the gun higher and held his position.

Alex ran his fingers over the grip, not quite ready to aim.

It would be a last chance.

A last opportunity.

It meant that Mickey would probably die before Alex even had a chance to get a shot off.

There was a long moment, then the sound of someone slamming a laptop lid shut. Someone muttered what could only be swears under their breath, then exited the room.

Straight into the tip of Mickey's gun.

It wasn't a guard.

It was… a scientist?

He held his hands up at shoulder height, wide-eyed and startled. He started rattling something off in a language Alex wasn't familiar with. All Alex could see was Mickey's shoulders growing tenser.

Mickey growled something back that had the man rapidly shaking his head and taking a cautious step backward.

Which… that was different.

"Alex," Mickey said, over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off the scientist for a moment.

Alex swallowed.

Was Mickey going to kill this man?

"Cover him," Mickey said, switching to French. "If he moves, shoot something nonlethal."

Right.

Easy to say.

Alex wasn't sure if any shot he managed to get off would be more than warning shot, but the scientist seemed to want to live enough that he didn't even move when Alex stepped up. One handed shooting was not his forte, but at least it wasn't his dominant hand out of commission this time. He could look menacing enough even when he wanted nothing more than to sit down.

Mickey stepped to the side, using the tip of his gun to sweep into the room the scientist had come out of. "Shit…" He breathed, stepping further into the room.

Alex didn't dare glance away from the scientist.

He really wanted to.

Mickey reappeared at the edge of his vision, this time with a handful of colorful zip ties. "It's the lab," He muttered as he passed Alex, and started twisting the zip ties together. He grabbed and restrained the scientist in a matter of seconds. "We can't…" Mickey let out a long breath, before making eye contact with Alex. "We need to get that information off there. Destroy it, if we can."

Alex blinked.

Was their escape attempt and wreaking havoc going to turn into a sabotage attempt? That was… something Alex could get behind. That had been partially his idea for getting captured in the first place. Make it possible for someone to take the Puppet Master down once and for all.

Mickey propelled the scientist back into the room and Alex followed.

Inside, it was almost clinically bare.

Almost as far as away from what he pictured as a mad scientist's lair – which Clyde really fit that character to a tee.

Here though, there were bare desks with various instruments set up for… science. There were a few objects that looked familiar from his science classes, but that had truly been a long time ago. But there were no bubbling mysterious green liquids – though to be fair, everything Clyde had injected him with so far had been clear. There were several workstations along the far side of the wall, with lab coats and protective gear hanging in their place.

It could've been a lab in almost anywhere, Alex supposed.

Mickey pushed the scientist down into one of the chairs, made good use of several dozen more zip ties, then repurposed the sleeve off one of the lab coats as a makeshift gag. Probably not sanitary, Alex thought rather hysterically.

This escape plan had gone so far off the rails…

He wasn't even sure what to think any more.

He was supposed to be long dead.

Mickey wasn't supposed to even be here – he was supposed to be dead too.

But here they were, two supposed dead men, taking a detour from their perfectly sane escape plan to try something absolutely idiotic.

A hand touched Alex's shoulder, startling him.

Clyde.

He whirled, trying to pull the gun up.

Mickey caught his arm before he could get it fully raised. "Hey, hey, just me," He soothed, sticking faithfully to French. "Keep an ear out at the door, would you? I've got… some ideas here." He nodded toward the workstation.

Alex glanced between Mickey and the computer.

It seemed like too much to ask for, but…

He had had hope dashed too many times in front of him.

The least he could do was give Mickey a chance – even if he would much rather the idiot took the fastest route out.

If they could stop Clyde – or even disrupt some of his plans – well… maybe it would be worth it in the end.

Alex nodded and stepped back to the door, keeping the gun at the ready.

He might not be able to do much, but he could at least make enough of a racket if needed to give Mickey some sort of warning.

For what little it was worth…

It wasn't even five, long, minutes before Alex heard a snort of derision from Mickey.

"They've hardly locked anything down," Mickey said. "It's all just there for the taking."

Another sign of Clyde's overconfidence?

There hadn't been any signs of security cameras.

And apparently no listening devices either.

The security guards were lacking – surely someone must've discovered and raised the alarm by this point.

But there was nothing.

Alex cast a glance over his shoulder, watching Mickey type away at the computer for a moment. "You know what you're doing?" It seemed… so out of character with what he knew about Mickey. But really… what did he actually know about the guy? He was SAS? He fought rough and dirty when pressed?

"I had to do something with all my free time the past few months."

Which, true.

While Alex had been subjected to coursework, the others… had had similarly limited opportunities.

"Besides," Mickey continued, "I've been hacking since computers were invented."

Alex stifled a snort. "Even you're not that old."

"Okay, since they became publicly available." He shrugged, then input a few more keystrokes. "Huh. Even the network is accessible." He turned in his chair and stared at the scientist, before demanding something in the other language. The scientist had wide eyes and rapidly shook his head. "They don't even realize what they've done…" Mickey murmured.

Alex glanced back at the door.

It couldn't be long now.

Even Clyde wasn't that incompetent…

Surely, someone would have noticed by now.

"Alex…" Mickey drew out his name in a long hiss. "Close the door, now. And lock it if you can."

"Wha-"

"Just do it. Quick!"

There was an unexpected note of urgency in his voice and Alex hurried to comply. Luckily, the door shut easily and was rather solid.

Unfortunately, there wasn't a very good lock on it. So, Alex grabbed one of the chairs and did his best to jam it under the doorknob. That's what people always did in the movies, after all, and it seemed to work.

Mickey was swearing under his breath, as he typed frantically.

Alex backed up, keeping one eye on the door, until he was next to Mickey. "What?"

"Got the cameras. Clyde's coming." There were a few more frantic keystrokes. "He's got explosives."

And they had just locked themselves into the room…

Alex's eyes skittered around the room.

Chair.

Computer.

Desk.

Door.

Lab coats.

Glass instruments.

Giant freezer.

Door.

There was another door, in the shadow of the freezer.

And it didn't look like it was just a closet.

"I don't suppose you found a floor plan…" Alex asked, still keeping a wary eye on the main door.

"There should be-" Mickey spun around and pointed directly at the back door. "We'll go that way."

"We running for our lives?"

Because this was it.

Alex had no desire to go back to Clyde's clutches.

They had to get out this time.

Or die trying.

"Of course, kid," Mickey said, typing frantically, "Just as soon as I-"

The lights overhead cut off and only the glow from the solitary computer screen lit up the room.

Mickey shot Alex a crooked grin. "Told you they were being careless. Everything is connected, but nothing is secured." He kept up his typing. "And as long as Clyde doesn't make it through those doors in the next five minutes… I'll be able to trigger the uploads of all their data and wipe the servers. Like taking candy from a baby."

The only sound in the room were the clack of the keys and the scientist's harsh breathing. Even straining, Alex couldn't hear anything from outside. The video screens told a different story though. Clyde had at least half a dozen guards with him – along with some makeshift looking ordinances. It was only on one corridor though, and they were rapidly moving off the screen.

"That's all for cameras?" Alex asked.

"That's it." Mickey made one last decisive move, then abandoned the computer. "If they manage to cut power, the process should be far enough along to keep going." He grabbed the back of the scientist's chair and started dragging it to the far corner of the room. Stashed in the corner, the man was all but invisible from the main door. "Now we're going to run for our lives. The back door should be clear."

Which wasn't saying much, since they only knew about one set of cameras in the main hall. But at this point, Alex couldn't do much more than trust that Mickey knew what he was doing.

For prison escapes… so far it hadn't gone half bad.

Knock on wood.

"Keep your ears open, kid," Mickey said, striding toward the back door.

Alex wondered where he had gotten the seemingly sudden burst of energy from. Both of them were working on limited resources, but… he was ready to not die, once again.

They had a chance.

Freedom was just a few steps away…

The back door led down a narrow corridor that was thankfully lit by emergency lighting. Though it meant there wasn't much light, it wasn't pitch black either.

And it also meant that anyone coming the other direction would give them a bit of warning – just because they were likely to have a secondary light source.

Alex kept his gun at the ready, bad arm tucked tight against his chest.

He wasn't going to falter this time, if Clyde gave him an opening.

It had become far too clear over the past several weeks that as long as Clyde was alive, he was going to keep coming after Alex.

And if Alex – or Mickey, he supposed – didn't do something about it, Clyde would just turn up once again to play his games.

Mickey halted suddenly, holding his arm back for Alex to stay put.

The corridor split into two and there was the unmistakable sound of voices coming from one direction.

The other direction was silent.

Mickey nodded down the quieter corridor, looking back over his shoulder every now and then.

Alex could feel an itch take up between his shoulder blades. Just the knowledge that someone was back there somewhere…

Thud.

There was a distant echoing boom that set Alex's teeth on edge.

"That's the door," Mickey whispered, "We've got to hurry."

They picked up the pace, moving as quickly as possible through the corridors.

It couldn't be that far.

They weren't going in circles.

There had to be an exit at some point.

The corridors existed for some reason…

Yelling entered the corridor behind them and it was all Alex could do not to spin around.

They were nearly running and the spare stones here and there on the ground poked into the soles of Alex's feet.

He couldn't wait to have shoes again.

Those would never be taken for granted again.

Mickey stopped abruptly and Alex nearly plowed into him.

A door.

The sound of running footsteps were rapidly rushing toward them and they didn't have much time to stop and make a decision.

They were just going to have to trust that whatever fate lied on the other side of the door was better than the one pounding toward them.

Mickey pushed the door open, raised his gun, and stepped out.

Darkness.

There was the thrum of the nighttime air – fresh air that they hadn't breathed in weeks.

Only the moonlight showed them their path.

Their escape.

Alex could just barely make out the rising brick and stone buildings around them on all sides.

Something in Spanish.

Crumbling facades that only made the place look more derelict.

"Come on," Mickey hissed, startling Alex back into action.

The wide-open sky was almost too much after the past several weeks.

And freedom was just on the tip of his tongue.

He wasn't sure what to make of it.

It had been even longer for Mickey.

Alex shivered as a breeze passed over his skin, reminding him that at some point he had lost his jacket and he was still barefoot.

"The street's that'a way." Mickey gestured toward the gate. "We've got to get out there, lose them in the streets."

Alex just nodded.

So far, Mickey's escape plan was going better than any of his had, so…

There were several guards near the gate, but they all appeared to be watching for external threats. Not one had turned around to watch the courtyard.

Perhaps Clyde had never alerted them to the escape attempt in progress.

Too confident.

Then the shouting caught up with them – not ten meters from the guards at the gate.

The guard spun around, raising his weapon, not even seeming to bother to check if it were friend or foe.

A trap.

Alex dropped to the ground, survival instinct taking over.

Mickey wasn't so lucky.

The shots caught him in the shoulder, in a spray of red blood.

Down.

Dead.

They were so close.

Alex couldn't think.

They were…

They should have…

He should have insisted…

Alex's fingers curled in a tight grip around the trigger of his gun.

The safety was off.

It was ready.

This was it.

There was no going back.

A surge of adrenaline pushed through him.

Now or never.

It was what he had sworn he would do at some point.

Kill or die trying.

It didn't matter anymore.

The trigger depressed with an all too familiar recoil.

Clyde may have destroyed his hand at one point, but he was beyond that now.

SCORPIA had trained him well in the few months they had had him.

He wasn't ever going to thank them, but… this almost made it worth it.

The surprised expression on the guard's face as Alex took out his shooting hand was short lived as he toppled to the ground from the follow-up shot.

Not dead, but would probably wish he were dead by the time Clyde got there.

Alex didn't even hesitate.

He just kept going, picking off the guards one by one.

Every shot counted.

There were only so many, after all.

It was a blur of moments.

At some point, he grabbed a second handgun.

He wasn't even sure where it had come from.

Just appeared in his hand, ready to go.

Three shots left.

He picked off another guard that was approaching his position – he was all but invisible and lethal.

Two shots left.

Alex dropped to the ground once more, letting the semi-automatic fire sent his way take out a friendly.

He wasn't beyond using them for their own game.

"Rider!"

One shot.

Alex froze, then pushed back against the wall.

Clyde.

"You know, you never struck me as a coward!"

The shooting stopped.

Alex felt his heart pounding in his chest.

Fear.

Threat.

Death.

"You're a pesky one, aren't you?" Clyde called out, shoes scuffing against the stones.

Other side.

Not right next to him.

"You just won't go away."

Alex swallowed.

He had one shot left.

He could either make it count, or…

"You just love making my life more difficult."

His hands were shaking.

That wasn't how you took a shot.

Cool.

Calm.

Collected.

That was his only chance.

"You should know, Alex, I was thinking I'd go easy on you. But… well… now you've cost me a lot of money." There were shuffling steps as Clyde worked his way closer, clearly wary that Alex would try something.

Which he would.

"And you've learned that once again, you're just not good enough."

It was going to count this time.

There was no time to think.

Not now.

Alex burst out of his hiding space, eyes locking on to Clyde's position and calculating the trajectory.

It would either hit or miss.

Either way, it wouldn't change things.

One shot left.

It was a split second decision.

Split second adjustment for the recoil from one handed shooting.

Maybe it would make the difference.

Alex fired and the world around him erupted.

A/N:Escape attempt! Maybe successful this time...? This was definitely supposed to be out on Sunday... whoops.