Langley, VA, 2305 Local, 28 August 2021
Four individuals waited as Jason entered the room. "About goddamn time," muttered Reyna. His eyes shifted from her to the tall black-haired team leader.
"If I was going to get drug in to wait, I'd have stayed at home. We don't wait well, Jason, give us a target and we'll take care of it. Tip of the spear doesn't mean a goddamn thing if there's nothing to fucking kill with it."
"And what would you have done at home, Percy?" Jason's aggressively "better than you" look made Percy uncomfortable.
"Fuck."
"Not likely," Annabeth Chase said as she entered the room.
"Fuck me."
"Enjoy doing that to yourself," she countered and began handing out the folders. She shouldered past him. "Lying son of a bitch," she whispered.
When she turned, Annabeth saw an almost impressed look on Percy's impossibly attractive face. Damn it Annabeth, stop, you don't do that anymore. You don't think of men past their dick. Relationships require more than good dick, we don't want that. She forced herself to glare at Percy and began to speak.
"Look into your files, page one. Split photos, man on the right is Luke Castellan. Crossfit champion, martial artist, used to work for Blackwater, now employed by Atlas Industries. On the left, Kelli McGuinness, Irish, daughter of a supposedly reformed IRA member. But our intelligence says instead of reforming he merely passed all his methods to her. Murder, torture, fucking her way to information. Also employed by Atlas."
"Great, still doesn't say what we can do about it." Percy had spoken from the center of the room. Annabeth studied him. His hair was as unruly as ever. A fitted gray shirt clung to his fit frame and hiking pants covered his lower body. Despite the hour, Oakley sunglasses were balanced on his forehead. "Doesn't matter to us who they are, we'll do what we have to do regardless. But if you don't give us a location, it ain't worth damn who they are." Fury filled Annabeth's chest.
Samirah al-Abbas answered him. "We tracked them to facility outside of Charlottesville, VA. Atlas has rented it." He turned to her and inclined his head slightly.
"Shukran, Samirah."
"Ahilan wasahlan, Malak al-Mawt." Percy looked at her harshly even as his team gave grim smiles. Annabeth spoke Russian and most of Europe's languages, but her understanding of Arabic provided only as much Arabic as Percy's thanks and Samirah's initial you're welcome. Whatever she had added to the end of the statement was unknown to her. Percy looked at Jason.
"Get us vehicles. We're going to for gear." Jason nodded and the four operators exited the room. Samirah left the room too and Annabeth turned to Jason.
"Malak al-Mawt?"
"Not something you want to know." Her glare alone countered his statement. "Samirah was raised by her mother in Boston, the father stayed in Egypt for a reason she never understood. She lost a much older cousin and her father to the workings of the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt. The cousin was caught, interrogated by Percy, and it was determined that her father was mastermind of things she and her mother never knew. He eliminated the threat. We may say the father was the threat and the family was clean. The Egyptians did not think that way."
"She doesn't seem that much younger." Samirah had reentered the room.
"That's what happens to you move to America as ten year old in 2002. You're harassed by everyone who should be your friend, because you wear a hijab. Because your skin is darker you are the enemy. You're called a terrorist and as they grow older the names become worse. Jamie Jihad, Teri Taliban, and so you over compensate because you believe them knowing who your father was, and join the CIA to go undercover. Only you don't know how American you are until you're slapped across the face by a Saudi in a Beirut restaurant for speaking out of line and no one says a fucking word. And so you adjust your hijab, bow your head, and watch yourself age in the mirror." She looked Annabeth in the eyes. "What I called him means Angel of Death. That's what they call him amongst the ranks of the Muslim Brotherhood or al-Qaeda." Annabeth did not know how to respond.
Interstate 81, 0143 Local, 29 August 2021
Reyna was staring out the window. She was thinking about the short conversation with the blond woman before leaving Langley. The woman had appeared in the garage as they loaded Pelican cases full of gear into two SUVs. She had been glaring at Percy, but it was less a glare of hatred than one of betrayal. Shit, she likes him, she had thought. The woman's glance had become more clear as the muscles in Percy's bulged lifting a case of ammunition. Reyna was caught looking at her this time.
"What is it? You study me like I'm an enemy."
"You might be," Reyna lit a cigarette. "He's a man who's never slept with the same woman twice since his divorce. If this threat is as bad as you say. We can't afford him being distracted by you." She had exhaled the smoke directly into the woman's face. Instead of coughing, the gray eyed woman plucked the pack from her hand and lit her own.
"I'm divorced as well and don't do relationships. Tell him that and that he can fuck himself since he lied to me." She took one more long drag on the cigarette and tossed it to the ground and walked away. Shit, she's good at acting the cold bitch. Just don't know if it's for me, or herself.
She could not blame the woman for liking Percy. He was an unfortunately likable individual for being as cold and heartless as she had seen him act. The man could pull triggers like no one else. She thought about her first experiences with him. She had still been in uniform. He had been interrogating someone.
It had been Afghanistan in 2015 during the fight with Taliban forces. The Afghan National Army patrol she was escorting with three Rangers and four Civilian Affairs personnel came under heavy fire from a compound two hundred yards off the road. The only cover available were the three buildings fifteen yards off the road to the other side. The fifteen Afghans immediately ran for the cover the Civilian Affairs personnel not far behind. Reyna and her Rangers were more cautious but also knew the buildings were their only shot. She had been ten yards away when the buildings exploded.
Helmand Province, 1358 Local, 14 August 2015
When Reyna opened her eyes she did not recognize her surroundings. She attributed most of that to the blindfold bound tightly around her face, the rest she blamed on the ringing still in her ears and what felt like blood coating the left side of her face. The blast she thought. Blindfolds are standard for people with injuries to their eyes from blasts. But why are my hands bound? And my feet? She tried to open her mouth but now felt the tape tight across it. Goddamnit. Whatever small room she was in was completely devoid of light. Outside what she assumed was a door she heard several men arguing in Farsi or Pashtu. It took several minutes before she realized it was Arabic, a language that should not have been spoken amongst the tribesmen supposedly opposing them. That means outsiders, like the Mujahadeen or Al Qaeda again.
Gunshots suddenly filled whatever the building was outside her vessel of captivity. The cries of the wounded filled her space. They did not last long. The sounds following them were similar to heavy similar to sandbags being carried or drug around. Soon the only noise was the measured footfalls closing on her current position. She had no ability to prepare herself for whoever was approaching.
"Bathroom's in there. Washbasin too." Reyna followed without question. She may not have believed he was going to kill her, but someone with his moral compass scared the hell out of her. She had seen the survivors of his assault waiting for his return. She turned once more to see him lifting the dark blue shirt over his head, the wounds on his left side looked horrific. But potentially more horrific, was his lack of response at the pain of lifting the shirt off. The image the reveal presented was terrifying.
Scars covered his body. Yes, muscles bulged and rippled. Not in the "attractive" way that Men's Health or Men's Journal would promote, but in the brutality needed to kill human beings with his bare hands. But even for those that would have found the bulk alone appealing, the scar tissue marred the visage. Bullet holes were the most prominent. She counted at least five, on his left side alone. He caught her staring.
Embarrassed she turned and quickly disappeared behind the door. The man who had introduced himself as Percy was still shirtless. But the blood was now washed away and the CIA man was halfway through running a suturing needle along the gash. "What. The. Hell."
"It's clean," he responded, then returned to suturing the wound.
"No, stop. What the fuck do you think you're doing? What sort of dumbass stitches himself up?" He had completed the current stitch and she snatched the suturing needle away from him. "Fucking moron. I'll finish this."
"Do you know what you're doing?"
"Well anything is better than what you're doing to yourself." She completed the stitches and then bandaged his side with the gauze pads and tape sitting next to him. "What did you use for the anesthesia?"
"Didn't." He stood and walked to the room she had left, returning in a new t-shirt. She was still staring at him.
"No anesthesia?"
"Nope."
"Jesus Christ, men." She was shaking her head in disapproval. He pulled on his shirt and stood.
She opened her mouth to voice one of the dozen more questions she now had. He ignored it and began to walk up the stairs. "Where are you going?"
"To have a chat with one of my other guests." She followed him up the stairs. "Interested?" he asked, she only nodded in return. "Well in that case."
Percy reached forward and pulled the zipper of her FROG quarter zip even deeper. Reyna felt the cool air suddenly against her now displayed sports bra covered upper breasts. Percy glanced down.
"Son of a bitch, the hell is this?" She reached up and began to again cover herself.
"Stop," he said. "The jihadis in there are members of one of the most sexually repressed groups in history and haven't seen tits in months, trust me, this will help." They entered the room. The two men were still facing each other. The tape covered their mouths still. The older sat with his back to Percy and Reyna's entrance. The younger one, the one with fire in his belly and two wounds to his calves, glared in full hatred at them both. Yet, much to Reyna's ire, his eyes hung on the exposed swell of her breasts despite their spandex covering. And of course Percy caught the leer.
"Oh, habibi, lusting after the Westerner, not very good of you." He had a patronizing smile on his face. "How about you answer my questions and she'll give you the full view?" Reyna recognized the language as Arabic, but spoke none of it. She was merely an observer here. She watched a shock of embarrassment then an increased amount of anger cover the young man's face. He can't be more than twenty. I was still in school, playing soccer on the Iowa team at twenty.
Percy removed the tape from the boy's mouth. "What is your name?" He was still speaking in Arabic. Reyna was still solely observing the exchange. The young man spat out a burst of Arabic, Percy's face lost the patronizing smile and he turned to her.
"He says once he's done with us, his goats will defecate on my corpse and they will enjoy you before your death." Reyna's breath seized in her chest. He turned back to the Egyptian and replaced the tape on his mouth. He spoke to him in Arabic. "You will not live that long, habibi." Reyna watched the pistol in the holster on Percy's belt come out. He looked at her. "Leave. Trust me." She followed his instructions, not fully knowing why.
Percy moved the other Arab's chair into a small closet in the back corner of the room. The pitch black would disorient him. What came before Percy's next question for the younger man would terrify him. He slowly walked back toward the younger Muslim man. He spoke to him in Arabic. "Habibi, that was not a kind thing to say." The fire of hatred was still in the younger man's eyes. He hates America, he's not a true believer. His only goal is to kill Americans, Allah's glory has little to do with this for him.
He slashed the barrel of the pistol across the man's face. The skin across his left cheek split open and blood began to stream down his face. "Habibi," he continually used the Arabic term of endearment, his voice's tone the vein of a caring relative. "You will give me the answers I am asking for. Your only choice is how much pain you will experience in the process." Again he slashed the pistol across the man's face. "Your name?" Percy removed the tape across the other man's mouth.
"Abdul." The man was breathing heavily.
"Very good, Abdul, and your friend is Muammar al-Abbas?" The abject hatred of America again captured Abdul's tongue. Percy shook his head disappointedly.
"Habibi, I thought we had made progress." He replaced the tape, placed the end of the suppressor against Abdul's left knee and pulled the trigger. Despite the tape his screams were audible. Percy suspected Reyna heard them, but he knew that Muammar Al-Abbas did. "I can shoot you many more times before you die, Abdul." He pulled the trigger again and Abdul screamed more as the tarsal bones of his left foot shattered and a 9mm hollow-point expanded on impact, ripping a large hole in the foot. Abdul's screams intensified. "Habibi, habibi, I don't want to keep hurting you. All I need is a little information." He fired another round of 9mm ammunition through Abdul's right foot. "Where did you take the kidnapped Americans? Clearly somewhere for a magnificent execution if Muammar Al-Abbas is here." Abdul did not answer and Percy shot his right knee cap. Still yet the fury kept him from answering. Percy ground the end of the silencer into Abdul's dick and balls. Despite the bullet wounds, Abdul's eyes still sprang open. Like most of us men, priorities, thought Percy.
"You're going to answer my question this time, habibi. Where are you and Muammar Al-Abbas taking them?" The muscles and veins of his face bulged and worked as Abdul shook his head to prevent his mouth from betraying him if he opened it.
"Fine." Percy pulled the trigger. The 9mm hollow point severed the man's penis and testicles from his body. His screams easily tore through the tape over his mouth and blood began to stream onto the floor beneath him. "You're going to bleed out in minutes, Abdul, and if you want any chance of virgins in Paradise, do one good thing in your entire miserable life. Where are the captives?"
Abdul was coughing uncontrollably. "Mount….mount…mountains north." He stopped speaking, he stopped moving. Percy could not immediately tell if the Arab had passed out from a loss of blood or had expired. He placed the end of the suppressor against Abdul's head and pulled the trigger. He carried the body to the small closet with Muammar and threw him into it. That might put him on edge. Reyna was waiting on him downstairs. She said nothing for ten minutes.
"What the fuck happened up there?"
"We were having a conversation and he tried to pull an escape attempt. Defended myself."
"That's it?" She was not convinced in the slightest. Percy did not blame her.
Interstate 81, 0226 Local, 29 August 2021
Reyna could not remember dozing off. But she shuddered as she remembered her first interaction with the man driving her vehicle. The blonde at headquarters probably thought she was warning her off Percy so she could have him for herself. She had had him and had no intention of having him again. No, she thought. I warned her off because eventually she will be forced to see beneath the veneer.
Virginia Tech, 0305 Local, 29 August 2021
"How long until the update is complete?" The computer science major looked nervously between the pistol in Luke Castellan's hand to the knife in Kelli McGuinness's. She swallowed hard and licked her lips before responding.
"The upload is seventy-three percent complete. Once complete it is a simple command line entry to start the program. Sundown dot exe and enter." Kelli's face twisted.
"That's it?" The girl nodded emphatically. "Excellent." The Irishwoman's hand snaked forward and the blade in her hand whipped across the student's throat. Blood shot from severed arteries of the girl's neck and across the screens. Droplets sprayed across Kelli's torso and a few landed on Luke's cheek.
"Really? Was that necessary?" She turned, her hands on her hips and took a step toward him.
"And you were going to let her live?"
"No. But I was not going to cover us in her blood." She took another step forward and he felt her tongue against his cheek as she removed the droplets from his cheek.
"All better, babe." She walked around the computer and looked at the screen. "We're at ninety-two percent."
Langley, VA, 0317 Local, 29 August 2021
"Holy fucking shit," muttered Samirah. Both she and Annabeth had been pouring over files on their workstations. She had studied the blonde girl when her eyes demanded a break from a computer screen. Chase was as good of an analyst as she had ever seen, if not the best. What she could not figure out was how she had already managed to develop a dislike of Percy. She knew the raven-haired operator was crude and rough around the edges, but to her understanding they had only began working together four hours earlier.
A message had just appeared on her desktop from an internal messaging service. Annabeth's gray eyes shot from her own screen to al-Abbas's face. The Egyptian-American's face had lost all color. Slowly her eyes met Annabeth's. "The file just went active. They're too far away from Charlottesville for it to matter. Ten minutes until the file executes."
"Fuck us."
"Allah have mercy on us, because that is our only hope, Annabeth." Annabeth reached for the phone on the desk next to her.
Interstate 81, 0320 Local, 29 August 2021
"What?" Percy had accepted the call, but his shortness was more than apparent.
"How far from Charlottesville are you?" He checked the dashboard GPS.
"At least forty-seven minutes."
"The file goes active in seven."
"Fuck me," he muttered. "What's next?" Annabeth's tone was calm, though he could tell it was forced.
"We have to stop the Atlas personnel. This file, as best we can tell, only has a limited time lethality. If they, or Othrys it seems, want to actually use it for an extended amount of time they need either a recurring computer program that Octavian never figured out or to physically take down power junctions."
"Oh shit," she heard Percy say and the Voice Over Internet Protocol phone went silent. In front of Percy he watched as the lights of gas stations and distant towns went dark. The glow in the sky that was Charlottesville vanished. Percy looked at the icon on his console and the symbol for cell coverage had vanished.
"What just happened?" asked Reyna, recovering from another short nap.
"Lights out just happened." Despite Company policy, he reached for his pack of cigarettes and lit one. Reyna extended a hand and took one herself. She was shaking her head.
"God help us."
A/N: Clearly we see a dark side of Percy in this chapter. As his godly based powers are clearly not a part of this story I decided it was still necessary to show that he had a capability of similar violence with his given abilities. Additionally we see the initial interactions between Annabeth and Percy, not Annabeth and Peter (definitely in reference to Mr. D's refusal of using real names.)