Toris had just finished cleaning his room when Mikkel knocked on his door.
"Hey, what's going on?" Toris asked.
"I have a recon job for you," Mikkel said, "Get yourself ready to leave at a moment's notice, then come to my office."
With the vague instructions given, Mikkel went back down the hallway.
Shrugging, Toris grabbed a pair of socks from the drawer, and pulled over his shoes from the door. The usual reconnaissance jobs Mikkel assigned him involved following a person around town and observing their habits, or watching the scene at the location of a potential upcoming heist. The situations were hardly ever dangerous, but Toris always had a couple guns and switchblades on him in case anything happened.
Once his socks and shoes were on, he grabbed the coat from the back of his door, already prepped with the weapons and spare ammunition, and went out into the hallway where Feliks walked by.
"Ooh la la, the recon jacket," Feliks teased, "It always reminds me how sexy you are in spy mode."
"Save it for when I get back," Toris flirted back, giving Feliks a kiss on the cheek, "Mikkel's got an assignment for me."
"Be careful out there, honey," Feliks said, returning the peck with one to Toris's lips before strutting past to his own room.
Toris chuckled as he walked off in the other direction. Although he had the ability to charm women if necessary for a mission, Toris actually preferred between with men. He was flexible in his sexual relations, but it wasn't until he met Feliks that his dominant side got more experience.
Toris reached the office, and saw that Mikkel was looking at paperwork on his desk.
"Shut the door, Toris," Mikkel instructed, "We don't need anyone overhearing this."
"Is it that serious of a mission?" Toris asked as he shut the door and sat down.
"It's so serious, I'm not even sure how to explain it," Mikkel replied while leaning back in his chair.
"Okay, how about you start with a key point, than elaborate on it?" Toris suggested.
Mikkel looked down and took a deep breath, before looking at Toris again and spilling the beans.
"Ivan might be a traitor."
Toris deadpanned, he wasn't expecting that.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I was told last night by an informant that Ivan is hiding his true identity, and that he is far too dangerous to be associated with," Mikkel revealed, "I was told that he is likely pulling strings behind our backs, and I should turn him into the police before he can stab me in the back."
"Holy shit," Toris gasped, "Do you believe whoever told you this?"
"They had very good evidence in their favour, that's for sure," the Dane acknowledged, "I want to deny it all on account of Ivan's loyalty, but I also want to know if he is indeed up to anything."
"What do you want to do about it, then?" Toris asked.
"I walked by his room a few minutes ago, it looked like he was planning to leave the base today," Mikkel explained, "I want you to follow him, see where he goes and what he does."
"You want me to spy on one of our own?" Toris confirmed.
"I don't like the idea either, but it's the only option," Mikkel admitted, "If he is planning something or meeting with people behind our backs, I need to know about it before he can turn on us."
"And if he is doing something suspicious?" Toris checked.
"Call me as soon as you can without getting caught," Mikkel answered, "If it's serious enough, we'll figure out a plan for turning him over to the police without him catching on."
Toris glanced at the ceiling while taking a deep breath. Whether or not Ivan was actually guilty of anything, resorting to spy on a colleague was certainly a sign of trouble on the horizon.
"I really don't like this idea, but I'll do it," Toris accepted, "If anything happens to me, I'm blaming you for putting me up to it."
"Thanks for this, Toris, I know it's not a good situation to be in," Mikkel commended, "You can leave the door open on your way out."
Toris stood up and went to leave the room. He opened the door to see Ivan standing at the table in the lounge.
"Ah Toris, Mikkel, hello there," Ivan greeted, "I'll be heading out for a couple hours, I have a few errands to run."
"Hey Ivan, could you stop by that bakery on 5th on your way back?" Mikkel shouted from his desk, "I'd love a Copenhagen pastry."
"Da, sounds good," Ivan answered before turning to leave, "I'll see you later."
Once Ivan had left the room, Toris looked over and saw Mikkel wink at him.
"There we go, a backup plan," Mikkel elaboraed, "If he does anything bad enough, I'll leave a tip for the police to meet him at the bakery."
Toris nodded, before going down the stairs himself. He paused at the bottom to grab a helmet and keys, before going out to one of the motorcycles. He had just started it up when Ivan was pulling his car out of its spot, so Toris intentionally allowed the Russian a few moments to pull ahead.
Once enough distance was made, Toris followed Ivan onto the busy street. There were a couple confusing intersections, but Toris was otherwise easily able to follow Ivan's car and not lose track of it. As the road led them both to a major bridge crossing the river, Ivan's car went down the exit instead, and turned into a large waterfront warehousing area used by the harbour's shipyard.
Toris followed him for one last left turn through the complex, only to find an empty alley between buildings ending at the shore, with no sign of Ivan's car. The Lithuanian pulled over beside the first building along the alley, and parked the motorcycle there. Leaving his helmet with the bike, he walked along the side of the building, noting that the buildings looked like abandoned warehouses. He reached the end of the wall on his side, and carefully peered around the corner.
There was another building hidden there, with a small parkade where Ivan's car was parked with a few other vehicles.
Toris hid on his side of the corner again, and calmed himself as he waited a minute to make sure Ivan wasn't still in the car. Hearing no sounds at all, Toris pulled out his gun and rounded the corner.
He watched every angle as he entered the parkade, but didn't find a soul. Once fully inside, he saw a door to the right and went towards it. He leaned against the door for a moment, listening for sounds on the other side and hearing nothing again. He tried turning the doorknob, and found it unlocked.
Toris cautiously pulled it open a bit, and was relieved to note that there was nobody on the other side reacting to the movement. He peered through the crack and saw that there was hardly anything immediately inside, just a staircase to the left heading upstairs. He pulled the door open the rest of the way and entered.
Watching the sound of his steps, Toris headed up the stairs, noting the blood red paint on the walls. As he approached the top, he saw the blood red paint continuing down a hallway, to the point where a bright sky blue suddenly joined it. He went up another step, and what he saw join the sky blue gave him a fright, prompting him to trip and fall forward on the stairs. After catching his breath, he slowly pulled himself up to peek past the last stair at the end of the hallway.
The sky blue belonged to a painting that featured an angry polar bear on the Arctic sea ice, its muzzle drenched in the blood of the dead seal at its feet. The bear was staring straight ahead with black beady eyes, as if Toris interrupted its dinner and was about to become the second course.
Toris stood up again, and saw that the bear was just at the turn in the hallway. He finally reached the top of the stairs, and noted how whoever designed this hallway with the red walls and that artwork had an eery sense of taste that even Feliks would approve of.
"Hello, Toris."
Toris leaped at the loud voice, pulling out his gun and aiming it in all directions, quickly noting he was still alone.
"What the hell was that?" he muttered to himself.
"That was the intercom," the voice replied, "No need to be sneaky anymore, we have you on camera."
"Who are you?" Toris asked the voice, noticing how it sounds like it was being distorted to disguise its owner.
"Let's just say I'm not ready to tell you," the voice continued, "What matters right now is that you have trespassed into my territory, and I will not tolerate that. Now, you will do as I say, or you will be shot dead, is that clear?"
"Crystal clear," Toris accepted.
"Remove all your weapons and place them on the ground," the voice instructed.
Huffing in defeat, Toris placed his gun on the ground, before opening up his coat and pulling out his spare guns and pocket knives. He placed them on the ground, and stepped back from the pile.
"That's everything," he shouted back.
"Get down on your knees, with your hands on your head, and shut your eyes," the voice commanded next, "My friends will come and get you."
Toris did as he was told, taking one more step back from his weapons in a show of good faith before kneeling down, placing his hands on his head, and shutting his eyes. He listened carefully at the silence, before it was interrupted by footsteps and figures pressed against each side of them. Someone pulled his hands off his head and in front of him, and Toris heard the jangle of handcuffs. As his wrists were restrained, a bag was pulled over his head, and tightened at the neck to keep Toris from trying to pull it off. Once cuffed and blinded, Toris was pulled to his feet and dragged backwards down the stairs, and he felt the breeze of fresh air as they went back out the door.
After a bit more movement, he heard a car door opening, before the figures pushed him into the vehicle. Noting the height of the push and the long seat, Toris could tell he was in the back seat of an SUV or truck. The door was shut, and Toris could hear the figures talking outside, but not enough to hear what they were saying or recognize their voices. A car door to the left opened and shut, before the vehicle was turned on and started backing out.
"Where are we going?" Toris asked the driver.
No answer was given, so Toris settled for trying to feel the movements of the vehicle. He could feel the movements of the vehicle turning, and the change from gravel to well-paved roads. While the well-paved roads had a few sways to the right and left, Toris quickly lost track of where they might be. He began to wander exactly how far this base of theirs was going to be from where he got caught.
They hit a patch of gravel road again, before the truck stopped entirely and was shut off. Toris could hear the driver open their door, before the one to his right was opened and another figure pulled him out. He was pulled along again for a few minutes, before the two figures spun him, grabbed him below the arms, and dragged him up a set of stairs. At the top, they allowed him to stand on his own feet and walk again, leading him further into wherever he had been taken.
Finally, he was spun again and forced to sit down, and something that felt like straps bound him to a chair. Once they let go, Toris tried to budge, only to find they had restrained him quite well. He suddenly heard a door slam shut, before the bag was pulled off his head, and he looked around.
He was in a brightly-lit interrogation room, with a table, two chairs, and what was likely a one-way mirror on the wall. There was only one other person with him in the room, and Toris rolled his eyes and groaned.
When he finally looked at the person again, Toris could only come up with one thing to ask.
"Ivan, what the fuck?"