Thank you for all the support for this story, I really appreciate it! Here's the next chapter.
Recap: "Very good, Harry," his manager said, clapping slowly, materializing out of the shadows. He draped a dark, shimmering cloth over his shoulder. Abruptly, his shoulder was practically invisible. Harry's eyes widened in astonishment. "Very good."
"B-but… I thought you were locked in your… office…" Harry trailed off.
"Why, indeed. But I was also watching you, as I have been for quite some time. You see, Harry, I'm not who you think I am," he explained with a twinkle in his eye. He patted the bench beside him. "Come, sit, my boy." Harry complied, settling himself down. "Ever since you became one of the top students not only in your school, but in the entire country, with exceptional skills in martial arts and fencing particularly, we've been watching you. Then we witnessed the unfortunate circumstances you faced with your parents. When we realized you were coming to London by yourself, we decided to step in."
"I don't mean to interrupt sir, but who's we?"
"In a moment, Harry, in a moment." He smiled. "You see, my boy, I am not just a tavern manager." Harry gave him a look like, well no shit, Sherlock. "I was sent undercover to keep an eye on you. I sent subtle messages for you to come to this exact bar and ask for a job." Harry vaguely recalled this. "I placed ads under your door, had ads for this job be displayed specifically on your computer, etc., etc." He pointed at a flyer on the wall that Harry recognized immediately. "And once you were hired, we confirmed that you are hard-working, smart, loyal, and strong. After all… anyone who can heft five boxes of beer in one go, or work five straight hours on nearly minimum wage without going ballistic is good enough for me," he finished, winking. "And as a final test, we had these four lovely men come to tackle you." Harry started when the three men he had beaten up earlier along with the one man who had run away appeared in the doorway, giving him a friendly wave. Harry gaped. "And, may I also add that blinding the enemy with Vodka was extremely creative." Harry gave him a sheepish grin. "Anyways, Harry, the point is that I'm offering you the opportunity of a lifetime. You're going to require some serious training, but... I see a lot of potential in you," Harry's manager said, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"But sir..."
"Percival, Harry, please call me Percival."
"Yes sir, I mean, Percival... I still don't know what you're talking about."
"You'll catch on in a moment, my boy." Percival stood up, beckoning Harry to follow him. He lead him into his office, where a large portrait of a man with horn-rimmed glasses and a dashing suit hung on the wall. Percival nodded at the painting. To Harry's utter bewilderment, the man in the portrait nodded back and swung open like a door, revealing a well lit passageway. "Now Harry," he added. "There's no going back. Are you sure you want this?" Harry still wasn't completely sure about what his manager was going off about, but he nodded firmly.
"It's not like I've got anything to lose." Percival got a faraway look in his eyes.
"Exactly what I said all those years ago, word for word." He was silent for a moment, before stepping into the passageway. "Very well then," he said, gesturing to the passage. "Come with me."
The moment the portrait door swung shut, the room was plunged into darkness. There was a humongous gust of wind, and Harry had to physically steel himself as not to be thrown off balance. A second later, the lights flicked on and Harry found himself and Percival standing in front of some modified version of a sleek subway car, doors open, revealing four comfortable looking seats. Percival gestured for Harry to sit down across from him. The doors slid shut, and the train began to glide forward. Although Harry was bursting with questions, he kept quiet, figuring that they would soon be answered. The two sat in silence, Percival occasionally flashing him a comforting grin. Harry counted ten minutes and twenty seven seconds in his head before Percival took a breath and opened his mouth.
"Kingsman is an international intelligence agency, operating at the highest level of discretion. An elite team of the best agents in the UK." Percival tapped the window on the side of one door. He pressed his palm onto it, and immediately, there was a flash of brilliant blue light. The dark window displayed streams of graphics and text, and a sideways K surrounded by a circle constantly remained in the top right corner. Percival dragged his finger across the screen, and a dial pad popped up. He entered in a series of numbers, and to Harry's disbelief, two glasses and a bottle of brandy dropped through a hidden panel in the ceiling. Percival caught them easily, handing Harry one glass. He toasted him. "Long live Kingsman." They drank. After they finished, a tray slid out of Percival' armrest and disappeared once the glasses and brandy were placed on it. "Where were we? Ah, yes. What I do." Percival leaned forward. "Can you guess?"
"Are you a Kingsman agent?"
"Precisely."
"A spy, sir?"
"I suppose." Percival scratched his chin. "Usually we don't recruit unless one agent is killed off on a mission- in which there is a sort of initiation for who gets the spot. But Kingsman noticed some very serious potential in you, and we've decided to make an exception. Abnormally high IQ scores were definitely a deciding factor." The train began to slow. Percival got up just as it braked, and stepped out, as if on cue, right when the doors opened.
"So... You want me to train to become a Kingsman?" Harry asked.
"Well, my boy, perhaps the real question is, do you want to become a Kingsman?"
"Yes," Harry responded without the slightest hesitation. "But... sir, to be honest, I have a difficult time completely believing you, even despite..." Harry motioned around him. "All this."
"Completely understandable. Come on, then." Percival beckoned Harry out of his seat, and led him over to a floor to ceiling window, overlooking hundreds of fighter jets, planes, helicopters and vehicles he didn't know the names of. His jaw dropped open as he looked out over the arsenal with utter amazement. Percival gave him a sly grin. "Not bad, eh?"
"Not bad at all," Harry managed.
"Well, then, come on. Arthur's waiting. We mustn't be late." Percival continued on at a brisk pace, leaving Harry to follow him.
They arrived at a large set of oak double doors. Percival pushed them open. A middle aged man sat in one of the two armchairs in the center of the room.
"Arthur, this is the Hart boy." The man named Arthur stood up, holding out a hand. Harry grasped it tightly, shaking firmly.
"Hm. At least he has a solid handshake," he said to Percival. Arthur turned to Harry. "A weak handshake means weak personality. Remember that, eh?" Harry nodded. Arthur looked him over. "Looks promising," he concluded. "Welcome to Kingsman, Harry. My name is Chester King, but please do call me Arthur around here, it's protocol."
"Arthur, Percival. Is there a Lancelot here as well, sir?" Harry asked. Percival and Arthur exchanged glances.
"Caught on quick, didn't you. Expected nothing less," Percival responded with a twinkle in his eye.
"Yes, yes, enough of that, Percival. Shall we continue then?" Arthur asked crossly. "Our Percy here has a soft spot for new recruits," Arthur said to Harry quietly.
"I do not!" Percival protested.
"Anyways," Arthur continued, ignoring him. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we? Percival, take Harry down to the track. Have him do some shooting and whatnot. Let's see how he fares, yes?"
"Yes, sir." Harry followed Percival out the door.
"Chester King. Arthur. Arthur King. King Arthur." Harry squinted up at Percival.
"The Kings date back to the very start of Kingsman."
"There it is again. Kingsman. King's men." Harry grinned. "Arthur King's men."
"Don't let him hear you saying that, he'll have your arse on the fence in no time at all."
"Yes, sir." The two reached a set of humongous doors, with two guards standing watch. They nodded briefly at Percival before one opened his door. Harry inhaled the fresh air coming from outside, savouring the coolness. He followed Percival down the front steps and up a long pathway, which looped to the side of the building. Harry observed the beautiful architecture in amazement.
"Close your mouth, silly boy, you look like a gaping whale," Percival scolded lightly. Harry bit back a retort. "Hm," Percival said after a moment. "Not bad. Remember this Harry, forever and always. It's what defines a gentleman. Manners maketh man. Usually, a new recruit would fire something back at me and I'd make him do fifty push-ups on the grass. But instead," he continued, as they reached a large track with a shooting range on the side. Percival pulled a small pistol out of his belt. "You get to fire this."
Whew. KINGSMAN IS SO AWESOME COLIN FIRTH IS SO PERFECTLY PERFECT AND OH MAN do you feel me or what?
Anyways, what do you guys think? Should I continue? Any feedback? I'd appreciate it enormously if you could not leave me in peace. *wink*
-happynomnom