1 A/N: All dialogue, unless otherwise specified, is in Russian. But I
couldn't exactly write it in Russian, because then you and I both wouldn't
understand it, would we? Also, all information used here on the Palacio
Real I obtained from
http://travel.yahoo.com/t/europe/spain/madrid/lp_attractions.html. After
that, I just ad libed the information on their security, what is kept
where, the layout, ect. If anyone has actually been there and wants to
correct me, have a field day. As always, feedback is begged for.
jaci@fanfiction.net
A/N 2: Per usual, my unspeakable gratitude goes out to my plot-bitch Jeanne. Not fer her, me'd be talkin' like dis.
2
MADRID, SPAIN
APRIL 3RD, 2002
Hanging eighteen feet over the floor of the Farmica Real was not the best time or place to become philosophical. Despite herself, Tasia found herself smiling down and the ornately tiled floor below her. In normal families, a 'favor' involved either some sort of housework or a loan of the monetary sort. When her stepfather asked of a favor of her, Tasia found herself breathing slowly and shallowly so she didn't activate the motion sensors and get arrested and probably killed for breaking and entering into a federally controlled building.
For some reason, Tasia doubted the excuse of 'my dad asked me to' was going to work all that well.
"I've almost got it." The voice rasped through the headphones secured tightly to her head.
"Alexi." Tasia growled. "You 'almost had it' fifteen minutes ago."
In an unmarked van less then a mile away, Alexi Metakoff chuckled. "No, I didn't 'almost have it' then. But I do now. Thirty more seconds. I'll swear to it."
"You're getting slow in your old age." Tasia muttered, unable to keep the grin from spreading across her face. "Should have stayed in Cancun, old man."
"If you think that's an insult, you're mistaken." He shot back, tapping keys on the laptop in front of him. "I much rather be relaxing in my condo then freezing my ass to get some little bottle for your father."
"If you'd hurry up, you can get back to weaving grass mats or whatever you do down there."
"Almost got it."
Tasia mentally went over what she had to do. She'd practiced time and time again and could probably pull this off in her sleep, but she never once allowed herself to relax during a mission. Soon as you relaxed, you were dead. It's a lesson she understood well, as she'd been hired as a replacement for someone who'd let their guard down on the job. So she thought through her steps one last time, visually checking her equipment, making sure there were no unseen problems down below.
"Okay…get ready, Taz." The voice was different, still raspy, but now carrying an underlying excitement. She, as a fellow operations officer of K-Directorate, recognized the pitch of adrenaline as it flowed through her own veins like blood. "Motion sensors killed, you've got three minutes!"
In two smooth flicks of her wrist, one dropping the thin black rope from her left hand and the other releasing the brake on her harness, Tasia hurdled towards the floor with a high pitched squeal of metal rubbing against the rope. The cable jerked taunt, inertia flinging Tasia's body back, even as she unclipped the harness and dropped the last two feet to the floor gracefully, with barely a sound. Motion sensors and noise- activated alarms were deactivated, but she naturally stepped lightly and her movements were quick and efficient.
All around her, glass winked and glittered in the dim security lights. Each week, hundreds of people toured the Farmica Real to see the thousands upon thousands of intricately decorated bottles that once belonged to the Spanish monarchy. Reds and blues, purples and greens; they all blended together on tables, shelves, and pedestals, each meticulously protected under glass cases.
Tasia knew, glancing around the room, that she was going to need every second of her three-minute time frame. Finding a specific bottle in the room, with only the vaguest of descriptions and barely any knowledge were it would be was going to eat a large hole in her time.
She slithered along the displays, not knowing what she was looking for, hoping she'd recognize it when she saw it. "Status?" Alexi buzzed in her ear anxiously.
"I'm still looking." She replied tersely.
Twenty precious seconds ticked by before she spotted the article of so much interest. It appeared almost out of place, the simple shapeless vase of an amber hue. A perfect circle surrounded by a diamond, clear as water, was blazoned into the center. Other then its complex history, the bottle seemed almost simplistic. Somehow, it still managed to draw the eye and hold it for a long, thoughtless moment. Tasia realized she was staring and fought her mind back onto the task at hand. "I've got it." She whispered into the microphone positioned over her mouth. She unzipped a deep pocket on the right side of her vest and pulled out a compact laser glasscutter. "Thirty more seconds and I'll be on my way out. How am I on time?" She pressed the suction cup onto the side of the glass case.
"Time is not my concern." Alexi's voice picked up a shade of violence. Even as he spoke, Tasia heard the distant and unmistakable whir of a helicopter. "We've got company."
Tasia whispered, every muscle in her body tensing. "SD6." If there was one thing she hated more then an SD6 agent fucking over her mission, it was an SD6 agent fucking over her mission when she was supposed to be on vacation. "Change of plan, get the to the southeast exit ASAP. My ETA is under one minute."
Tasia tossed the glasscutter aside, pulled the sleeve of her jacket over her right hand. Blocking her eyes with her left, she shattered the delicate glass case with a single jab with her elbow. Instantaneously, high, squealing alarms shrilled and the room flooded with light. Quickly brushing the largest of the shards of glass away from the upturned vase, Tasia grabbed it even as she began to run. She tucked the surprisingly light vase into the padded case she wore clipped to her belt with one hand.
Seconds later, Tasia heard glass shatter a few yards behind her. She froze, whirling to asses the agent. He had her by at least fifty pounds. Sighing inwardly, Tasia forced a startled look on her face and patted the case at her side, as if making sure it was still there. 'Come and get me.' She thought to herself, beginning to back away. 'Just come and get me, you fucking idiot.'
Tasia turned and fled, and after hearing the pound of feet pursuing her, was glad that SD6 agents were as predictable as ever.
Deciding against the ascenders clipped to her vest, she ran forward with a final burst of speed and grabbed the rope above her with both hands. Climbing was something she'd loved as a child, a hobby that had often gotten her into trouble with her mother. But now she slowed her motions, allowing the agent behind her time to catch up. Despite the urge to simply run, Tasia decided simple elimination was better then the risk of the SD6 agent catching up to Alexi and herself.
She bit back and oath as she felt the jerk of another person climbing the rope. She climbed slightly faster, adding height to their chase. Tasia waited for the man to be within earshot to swear dramatically in Russian.
She grabbed the edge of the air vent with one hand and had to give the man credit - for a big guy, he moved pretty fast. "So like SD6." She murmured under her breath. "To let someone else do the work and then swoop in and try to get the glory."
The large, sweaty hand grabbed Tasia's ankle and attempted to pull her down. She swung her feet off the rope, metal and wire biting into her hands to compensate for the new weight.
Tasia brought her leg up, whistled lightly, and waited for the agent to lift his head slightly. The slight diversion was all that was needed. Tasia kicked down, her heel meeting the agents face with a nauseating crunch. He didn't fall, but his grip faltered, and he slipped down slightly. He made no sounds as Tasia slid down the rope after him, her heavily gloved hands protected from brush burns. With one final blow to the face, followed by a kick to the throat, the man released the rope and fell the short distance to lie unconscious on the floor below.
Tasia hung from the rope a moment longer, her biceps screaming in protest, satisfied from the lack of movement from her assailant. The subtle rise and fall of his chest indicated he wasn't dead. Just as the bleeding and disfiguration of his face indicated that he'd be right where he was when the security finally arrived.
With a final survey of the Farmica Real, its floor covered in shattered glass, Tasia slipped through the vent as soundlessly as she'd arrived.
3
A/N 2: Per usual, my unspeakable gratitude goes out to my plot-bitch Jeanne. Not fer her, me'd be talkin' like dis.
2
MADRID, SPAIN
APRIL 3RD, 2002
Hanging eighteen feet over the floor of the Farmica Real was not the best time or place to become philosophical. Despite herself, Tasia found herself smiling down and the ornately tiled floor below her. In normal families, a 'favor' involved either some sort of housework or a loan of the monetary sort. When her stepfather asked of a favor of her, Tasia found herself breathing slowly and shallowly so she didn't activate the motion sensors and get arrested and probably killed for breaking and entering into a federally controlled building.
For some reason, Tasia doubted the excuse of 'my dad asked me to' was going to work all that well.
"I've almost got it." The voice rasped through the headphones secured tightly to her head.
"Alexi." Tasia growled. "You 'almost had it' fifteen minutes ago."
In an unmarked van less then a mile away, Alexi Metakoff chuckled. "No, I didn't 'almost have it' then. But I do now. Thirty more seconds. I'll swear to it."
"You're getting slow in your old age." Tasia muttered, unable to keep the grin from spreading across her face. "Should have stayed in Cancun, old man."
"If you think that's an insult, you're mistaken." He shot back, tapping keys on the laptop in front of him. "I much rather be relaxing in my condo then freezing my ass to get some little bottle for your father."
"If you'd hurry up, you can get back to weaving grass mats or whatever you do down there."
"Almost got it."
Tasia mentally went over what she had to do. She'd practiced time and time again and could probably pull this off in her sleep, but she never once allowed herself to relax during a mission. Soon as you relaxed, you were dead. It's a lesson she understood well, as she'd been hired as a replacement for someone who'd let their guard down on the job. So she thought through her steps one last time, visually checking her equipment, making sure there were no unseen problems down below.
"Okay…get ready, Taz." The voice was different, still raspy, but now carrying an underlying excitement. She, as a fellow operations officer of K-Directorate, recognized the pitch of adrenaline as it flowed through her own veins like blood. "Motion sensors killed, you've got three minutes!"
In two smooth flicks of her wrist, one dropping the thin black rope from her left hand and the other releasing the brake on her harness, Tasia hurdled towards the floor with a high pitched squeal of metal rubbing against the rope. The cable jerked taunt, inertia flinging Tasia's body back, even as she unclipped the harness and dropped the last two feet to the floor gracefully, with barely a sound. Motion sensors and noise- activated alarms were deactivated, but she naturally stepped lightly and her movements were quick and efficient.
All around her, glass winked and glittered in the dim security lights. Each week, hundreds of people toured the Farmica Real to see the thousands upon thousands of intricately decorated bottles that once belonged to the Spanish monarchy. Reds and blues, purples and greens; they all blended together on tables, shelves, and pedestals, each meticulously protected under glass cases.
Tasia knew, glancing around the room, that she was going to need every second of her three-minute time frame. Finding a specific bottle in the room, with only the vaguest of descriptions and barely any knowledge were it would be was going to eat a large hole in her time.
She slithered along the displays, not knowing what she was looking for, hoping she'd recognize it when she saw it. "Status?" Alexi buzzed in her ear anxiously.
"I'm still looking." She replied tersely.
Twenty precious seconds ticked by before she spotted the article of so much interest. It appeared almost out of place, the simple shapeless vase of an amber hue. A perfect circle surrounded by a diamond, clear as water, was blazoned into the center. Other then its complex history, the bottle seemed almost simplistic. Somehow, it still managed to draw the eye and hold it for a long, thoughtless moment. Tasia realized she was staring and fought her mind back onto the task at hand. "I've got it." She whispered into the microphone positioned over her mouth. She unzipped a deep pocket on the right side of her vest and pulled out a compact laser glasscutter. "Thirty more seconds and I'll be on my way out. How am I on time?" She pressed the suction cup onto the side of the glass case.
"Time is not my concern." Alexi's voice picked up a shade of violence. Even as he spoke, Tasia heard the distant and unmistakable whir of a helicopter. "We've got company."
Tasia whispered, every muscle in her body tensing. "SD6." If there was one thing she hated more then an SD6 agent fucking over her mission, it was an SD6 agent fucking over her mission when she was supposed to be on vacation. "Change of plan, get the to the southeast exit ASAP. My ETA is under one minute."
Tasia tossed the glasscutter aside, pulled the sleeve of her jacket over her right hand. Blocking her eyes with her left, she shattered the delicate glass case with a single jab with her elbow. Instantaneously, high, squealing alarms shrilled and the room flooded with light. Quickly brushing the largest of the shards of glass away from the upturned vase, Tasia grabbed it even as she began to run. She tucked the surprisingly light vase into the padded case she wore clipped to her belt with one hand.
Seconds later, Tasia heard glass shatter a few yards behind her. She froze, whirling to asses the agent. He had her by at least fifty pounds. Sighing inwardly, Tasia forced a startled look on her face and patted the case at her side, as if making sure it was still there. 'Come and get me.' She thought to herself, beginning to back away. 'Just come and get me, you fucking idiot.'
Tasia turned and fled, and after hearing the pound of feet pursuing her, was glad that SD6 agents were as predictable as ever.
Deciding against the ascenders clipped to her vest, she ran forward with a final burst of speed and grabbed the rope above her with both hands. Climbing was something she'd loved as a child, a hobby that had often gotten her into trouble with her mother. But now she slowed her motions, allowing the agent behind her time to catch up. Despite the urge to simply run, Tasia decided simple elimination was better then the risk of the SD6 agent catching up to Alexi and herself.
She bit back and oath as she felt the jerk of another person climbing the rope. She climbed slightly faster, adding height to their chase. Tasia waited for the man to be within earshot to swear dramatically in Russian.
She grabbed the edge of the air vent with one hand and had to give the man credit - for a big guy, he moved pretty fast. "So like SD6." She murmured under her breath. "To let someone else do the work and then swoop in and try to get the glory."
The large, sweaty hand grabbed Tasia's ankle and attempted to pull her down. She swung her feet off the rope, metal and wire biting into her hands to compensate for the new weight.
Tasia brought her leg up, whistled lightly, and waited for the agent to lift his head slightly. The slight diversion was all that was needed. Tasia kicked down, her heel meeting the agents face with a nauseating crunch. He didn't fall, but his grip faltered, and he slipped down slightly. He made no sounds as Tasia slid down the rope after him, her heavily gloved hands protected from brush burns. With one final blow to the face, followed by a kick to the throat, the man released the rope and fell the short distance to lie unconscious on the floor below.
Tasia hung from the rope a moment longer, her biceps screaming in protest, satisfied from the lack of movement from her assailant. The subtle rise and fall of his chest indicated he wasn't dead. Just as the bleeding and disfiguration of his face indicated that he'd be right where he was when the security finally arrived.
With a final survey of the Farmica Real, its floor covered in shattered glass, Tasia slipped through the vent as soundlessly as she'd arrived.
3