A/N: CSIS is the Canadian version of the USA's CIA. =) Though, apparently more successful at being covert.
A/N2: re Commander vs CO: 511 is 529's CO; he is the unit's senior line officer. 494 is commanding the mission as an attached solo specialist, so he rates a 'commander', but he isn't the CO. =)
Search and Seizure - Chapter 4- infie
Recap: (Wednesday, 0335hrs)
529's eyes sought 511's and found them wide with panic. [Oh, fu...] The crackle of rampaging electricity cut off the transmission of 494's absurdly casual curse. 529 frantically changed channels, initiated whisker sweeps, and cursed fluently as 511 stood over him, hands clenched.
Their only answer was static.
(Wednesday, 0345 hrs)
511 scrubbed both hands over his face, and worked to get his breathing back under control. 529 was still flipping switches on his receiver, feverishly working dials and pushing buttons. 511 put his hand on 529's shoulder, and gradually 529's hands slowed, and fell back to his sides. 511 pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand and sighed shakily.
"All right. Call base. Whisker comms. Let them know that 494's been taken. Request authorization to go in for him before they have the chance to prepare."
529 nodded, and clicked the button on his headset. "Hot Zone to base. Hot Zone to base."
[Base here. What is your status?] the cool, impersonal voice of the Manticore operator had an immediate calming effect on both listening soldiers.
"Unit six is compromised. Repeat, unit six has been compromised. Will initiate retrieval now."
Lydecker's distinctive whiskey-roughened voice came on the com immediately. [Negative, Zone, negative. Do not retrieve until you receive clearance.]
"What the fuck?" 511 exploded, staring at the satellite receiver in disbelief. "That can't be right."
529's face was a mask of shock. He swallowed hard. "Zone to Base. Please repeat."
The anger in Lydecker's voice was unmistakable. [Do not attempt to retrieve, Zone. Base out.]
529 switched off the satellite link and looked up at 511. "What the hell is going on here?"
511's face might have been carved from stone, for all the expression it showed. "They gave him up on purpose."
"What?"
"It's the only thing that makes sense. They gave him up on purpose. And they don't want him back until he's done what they needed him to do." 511 closed his eyes.
"And what the fuck would that be?" 529 asked, disbelief ringing in his voice.
"I don't know. And," he paused and swallowed hard. "I'm sure 494 doesn't know, either." He heaved a breath, then pinned 529 with a glare. "Saleh. Get on that receiver, and find me the signal from Ahmad's transmitter. I don't care how fucking long it takes. Get. Him. Back. I'm heading out to see what kinds of assets are around that we can appropriate. When we get clearance to go get Ahmad, it won't be easy to break him out." 511 sprang to the edge of their hole. As he disappeared, 529 overheard dark, angry muttering. He turned on 511's channel on the receiver just in time to catch his parting words.
"Walk in the park, my ass."(Tuesday, 1500 hrs - Seattle)
Lydecker put down his headset, and clicked open his cell phone, dialling rapidly. He waited until the far side picked up, before speaking curtly. "They've got him... A week might be too long. 494 is very resourceful. There's a good chance he'll escape in that time... No, sir. 511 won't go in without authorization... Yes, we can provide sufficient impetus to keep 494 captive long enough." He closed his cell phone with a snap, thin lips all but disappearing with his displeasure. He growled as the com operator tried not to look at him.
"Fuck." Lycdecker ground out, beginning to feel a little sorry that he didn't fill 494 in on the whole mission. "Fuck." He dropped his cell phone into his pocket and hesitated for a brief moment, then gritted his teeth.
"Get me Ashkovich."
(Wednesday, 1400 hrs)
494 awoke in a cage.
His eyes snapped open, and the first thing he saw was the floor, several metres below. {Ooooh...a hanging cage. This is different.} He was sprawled uncomfortably on his stomach, and he could feel the tiny bite of the steel squares of wire digging into flesh from temple to toes. {Naked. Great.} He gave a mental shrug. {I'm going to be a transgenic chess board if they don't give me something to sit on.} He rolled over and sat up, completely unselfconscious. He ran his eyes over his accomodations assessingly. {Hey. It's tall enough for me to stand up in.} He eyed the height of the cage again. {Well, maybe.}
494 replayed in his mind the moments leading up to that annoying little click. He shook his head in disgust. {I didn't check the last metre. Stupid.} he reviewed the 'click' itself. {Thermal switch. And I had a thermal masker with me. Rookie mistake.} He shrugged for real this time, and shook it off. "I'm here." he muttered, just in case 529 could hear him.
He got to his feet, ignoring the discomfort of having small two inch squares of wire digging into the soles of his feet, and found that he could just stand upright, but that the top of the cage pressed into his hair. {Hmmm... snug fit.} He saw a tiny metal plate welded to the floor, near what he supposed was the release mechanism for the door, which seemed to be the entire base of the cage. Curiosity got the better of him, and he crouched to look. {Costeel, model 494.} He laughed with delight. {Now, that's funny.}
494 returned to standing, examining the top of the cage minutely, testing the strength of the wire. The cage was hanging by four heavy chains that climbed to the ceiling of the room, and a light hung directly above his head, blazing down on him. The light was supported by electrical wires that were strung from each of the suspension chains. There seemed to be more wire than strictly necessary, but 494 dismissed it as just another example of Ashkovich's penchant for overkill.
The room arched away from him on all sides, formed from a large natural cave. The walls were a lovely natural sandstone, and 494 grinned as he identified the vent screen that was to have been his ingress to the room. {See... I knew the cream colour was the right way to go.} The room was definitely a lab facility, and 494 could see the freezers and biology equipment that would mark the location of the Argent virus. Closer to his own position was an examining table and surgical gear. He eyed the heavy iron restraints along the edge of the table warily, and his good humour drained from him like water from a sieve. He raised his hand and rubbed behind his ear thoughtfully.
{I think it's time to leave.} he raked one hand through his hair, coming up with a thin, flexible sliver of black graphite and epoxy he'd hidden in his hair. {This should do the trick.}
494 moved to the release mechanism for the cage, and, whistling softly, began to work on the lock.
(Wednesday, 2000 hrs)
529 sat bolt upright, hand frozen on the tuning dial. Quiet whistling came through his headset, slightly roughened with static, but definitely there. "Yes!" he said, a fierce grin breaking over his face. "Verdi has never sounded so good. Heh heh heh."
He heard a noise above and behind him, and turned, grinning widely, to tell 511 the news. "I..." His startled eyes instead saw four black-clad men carrying tasers. "Well, sh..." They fired.
(Wednesday, 2100 hrs)
494 smiled grimly as the lock finally clicked under his questing fingers. {These Costeel guys know how to make a lock.} He took a firm grip on the side of the cage and kicked the bottom of the cage over the lock. The bottom of the cage swung open, and 494 dropped soundlessly to the ground. He headed for the archway leading out of the room, but stopped abruptly at the sound of approaching voices. He looked around, deciding on a set of cabinets to his right as the best available hiding spot. He rolled himself between two of them, easing himself towards the back as the owners of the voices dragged something heavy into the room. They dropped it with a thud.
"X5-494." 494 started at the sound of his designation. {They know who they've got.} The speaker had a faint Russian accent, and a light baritone voice. "494. Please join us in the room."
He didn't move, didn't even breathe.
The baritone sighed deeply. "I have something of yours. I think you may be wanting it back in good condition. Of course, we can negotiate." There was the sound of something heavy striking flesh, and an accompanying crack that he recognized as the sound of breaking ribs. "I believe his designation is... X5-529."
{Fuck.} 494 clenched his fist, then rubbed his fingers over his eyes. Another thud was followed by the suddenly laboured breathing of a man with a punctured lung. "All right!" he called, sliding back out of his hiding place. "All right." {Fuck.} "I'm coming out." he raised his hands and stepped into the room.
There were at least eight heavily armed men now occupying the room, and each of them had an SKS rifle trained very carefully on 494. 529 lay gurgling on the floor, blood spotting his lips, still unconscious from whatever means they had used to bring him in. He placed his hands on his head and laced his fingers together, trying to look as harmless as possible. He looked at the one man in the room other than himself who was both fully conscious and unarmed. "Ashkovich." It wasn't a question.
The man inclined his head, light gleaming off sun kissed brown hair. He was remarkably handsome, with a long straight nose and dark eyes, but a certain twist to his lips lent his features the impression of cruelty. "So I am. And you are X5-494. And now, you will return to cage, please."
494 tilted his head, pretending to consider. "Hmmm. No."
Ashkovich yawned. "You will enter cage, or 529 will die. Now." he said, bored. One of the eight guards shifted his rifle to point at 529's head meaningfully.
494 walked over beneath the hanging cube, looked up, and sprang up into the cage. He linked his fingers through the metal mesh of the roof and hung there, patiently dangling while another of the guards closed and locked the floor with a heavy pole. He set his feet against the bottom and tested, then set his full weight against it. He watched impassively as they brought in a metal table and chained 529 to it, spread eagled on his back.
"So what is this about, anyway?" It was 494's turn to sound bored. "I mean, I get the whole 'caught you breaking in', so, hey, 'my bad', but this seems a bit more extensive than that."
Ashkovich smiled. "Da. I have captured you because you contain some answers I am seeking. I will be examining you closely." he laughed. "I will be determining, as they say, what is making you tick."
494 tilted his head, lips quirking. "You'd better hope I don't tick, Ashkovich. In my world, ticking only leads to 'Boom'!"
"I think there will be no 'boom' now. I have your partner, and you will co-operate, 494. If you do not, your comrade will suffer. Terribly. As it is, I still need to punish you." Ashkovich withdrew a small device from his pocket, and 494 narrowed his eyes. It looked like a remote control, with a single large button. Ashkovich pressed it, and even as 494's world dissolved into pain, he recognized the increasingly familiar crackle of electricity.
{So, that's what the extra wires were for....}
Mercifully, the world went black.