Hiya! Sorry for the HUGE gap between updates, the desk has been taken up with a large box full of chicks that we bought on Tuesday, but they've been moved now so i can type again! YAY! Anyway, here's chapter two!! Enjoy...
Yassen froze, the name was somehow familiar. After a few minutes thought, he remembered where he'd heard it before; he had been given a list of new recruits into MI6 and the SAS with real names and code names, Wolf had been ringed in red as potentially dangerous.
"You're Yassen Gregorovich, then?" Wolf asked suddenly, jerking Yassen out of his thoughts.
"What of it?" he replied warily, raising his arm slightly so they were parallel to the floor. Wolf shrugged, slipping his gun back into the holster at his hip.
"Nothing much," he said. "I just wanted to check. Why do you want Skinner?" Yassen hesitated, but decided that he didn't really have anything to lose; he was the one who had the gun easily available.
"He's made too many enemies, and unluckily for him one of them can afford to pay us to get rid of him for them." Yassen wasn't sure why he was telling Wolf this, but some instinct told him that he was talking to a kindred spirit.
"You know about what he's doing in Africa?" Wolf asked, raising an eyebrow. Yassen shrugged.
"I don't really care what he's done. I'm paid to take him out, so that's what I'm going to do. Once he's dead, no one will really care what he did when he was alive."
Wolf felt his eyes widen, surely the man was only joking? He caught Yassen's eye and saw the truth there, he really didn't care. Wolf shuddered and sought for a way to change the subject.
"That worm in the alley told you the same lie as he told me, then?" He asked, frowning in annoyance. Yassen nodded silently, lowering the gun slightly without realising it. "He knows the real location." Wolf said suddenly, pushing forwards, and then stopping short when Yassen cocked the pistol, raising it again. Wolf rolled his eyes.
"I'll do it, there's less at stake for you if you fail. I have my life on the line."
"I figured you might nee- want some help." Wolf said carefully. Yassen bristled and Wolf raised his hands, suddenly realising just how dangerous the man in front of him was.
"I work alone," Yassen said coldly, motioning Wolf forward with his gun. The younger man complied instantly, seeing the complete lack of mercy in the Russian's eyes. Yassen laid a hand on his shoulder once he was within reach, turning him roughly to face the fire exit. "Don't look back." He said, shoving Wolf forward.
He watched emotionlessly as Wolf walked the length of the corridor, part of him wondering why he hadn't killed the SAS soldier. He sighed softly as soon as Wolf had climbed out of sight down the ladder, and turned back, walking quickly to the door. He too pressed his ear against it, not hearing anything on the other side; he took a step back and, gritting his teeth, rammed the door with his shoulder.
The flimsy chipboard gave easily and he staggered a little as he half-fell through the door. The room was empty, as was the tiny adjoining bathroom. Yassen returned to the main room, quickly and thoroughly searching through the drawers and cupboards for anything that would give away his mark's current location. There was nothing in any of the drawers, and he turned away, frustrated.
He searched through the entire room, but found nothing except a few moth-eaten towels and a screwed-up shirt under the bed. Sighing, he straightened up and walked out of the shattered door.
Two strangled, silenced gunshots shattered the silence. Yassen was running for the fire escape before his mind had time to process what was happening. He leapt through the window and raced down the ladder. His eyes flicked sideways and he saw two bodies near to the dead end of the alleyway. He slowed slightly, taking the last few steps at a jog rather than a flat out run. He reached the two still forms on the ground and bent to examine them.
One was the man he had threatened earlier; the neat hole in the centre of his forehead told Yassen that there was no point looking for a pulse and he turned to the other man. It was Wolf. Blood stained his shirt, but a strong pulse jerked his chest. Beneath the blood on his left shoulder, Yassen could see a small hole, with a slightly larger one on the back of his shoulder.
He was half tempted to leave Wolf where he was, but some long-forgotten spark of decency told him that the younger man would probably be shot again if he was left, and unconscious, he couldn't defend himself. Cursing his sudden flash of conscience, Yassen pulled Wolf's shirt off and wrapped it tightly around his wound. He pulled his own jacket off and threw it around Wolf's shoulders. He hesitated for a moment before pulling the gun from Wolf's waistband and tucking it into his own, ensuring that the safety was on, typical of the SAS to leave their weapons armed at all times.
"Wake up," he said, shaking the SAS man roughly, painfully aware of the voices and footsteps getting closer. Wolf stirred and Yassen, growling in annoyance, slapped him, jerking him into consciousness.
"Get up," He said shortly, standing back. Wolf struggled to his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain. His mind raced to fill in the recently vacated piece of memory and he staggered, lifting his gaze to the top of the hotel. It was empty, but he knew that there had been a figure there; with a gun… he'd been watching for Yassen to come out… Yassen. His eyes locked on to the fair-haired Russian and he pulled away from the steadying hand around his elbow.
"Don't bother, walk normally, I'll do the talking." He said. The words sounded distant to Wolf, but he obeyed the firm tug on his wounded arm and followed as Yassen walked to the end of the alley.
"There's a dead man down there!" he exclaimed, injecting fear into his voice. "Someone get help." he added, trying to remember what he'd heard after a killing. The people around him flooded into the alleyway, revolted and curious. Yassen took the opportunity to leave; the more people who saw him, the more likely it was that the Police would be able to identify him.
Wolf was approaching unconsciousness again, half-falling again and again. Yassen found it almost a good thing; he didn't have to worry about Wolf leading MI6 straight to his flat if he was unconscious, or nearly, when he arrived.
It took almost an hour to get back, and the whole way, Yassen was asking himself why he'd helped Wolf; he could have left him to die, but he hadn't. That train of thought led him to another, namely, Who would risk killing people in broad daylight in a public place? Whoever it was, they would probably have power, enough to influence the Police; no one was invisible, but you could become harder to find by hiding behind large amounts of money.
Yassen opened the door to his flat and pushed Wolf down onto the chair facing away from the window. The younger man was pale and his eyelids fluttered as he fought to stay alert. Yassen paced the sitting room, chewing his bottom lip as he thought. The room faded into darkness as the final residue of light slipped out of sight over the horizon.
"I think-" Wolf stopped, panting, as he knocked his arm against the arm of the chair. "I think it was Skinner. The man who shot me, I mean." Yassen stopped, turning to look at him through the darkness.
"How do you know?" He asked.
"I don't, but the other man he shot had followed me to the hotel. He was waiting for something to happen. And it would make sense if Skinner wanted to kill him, he's another witness. Well, he was another witness." Wolf's speech was breathless and punctuated with grunts and gasps of pain.
"Yeah, but why would he risk being seen? If he wanted to stay out of sight, it's surely not a very good idea to go around shooting people in the middle of Bristol." Yassen countered. Wolf shrugged with his right arm.
"I guess he thought it was more important to take care of his enemies. If we were dead, he wouldn't need to stay out of sight." He paused. "Look, are you going to help me with this arm or not? If you are then please get some bandages, if not then tell me where I can get some."
His blunt tone took Yassen by surprise; he had forgotten that Wolf had been shot. He went to the kitchen and pulled out a roll of bandages.
"Use these. Do you want a hand?" He added, pulling his jacket off Wolf. The back was soaked with blood and he winced, tossing it into the bin without another glance.
"You couldn't clean it for me? I would do it myself but I can't see it." Yassen nodded and boiled some water. He poured it into a heavy bowl and dipped a clean towel into the steaming water. Wolf let out an involuntary yell of pain when it first touched his skin, but he was mute after that, trying to ignore the fact that he was trusting an assassin to do this.
"This isn't good," He said, looking away. "If Skinner knows we're after him, he'll hide behind everything he can get his hands on."
"I know," Yassen retorted, pressing a little harder than was really necessary.
"I don't know how you managed it, but you somehow moved just enough to get the bullet to totally miss all the bones in your shoulder. You're lucky; you would have had to go to hospital if it had hit any bones."
"I would've lived." Wolf said sharply, pulling away and wrapping the bandages around his arm as tightly as he could with only one arm. Yassen raised an eyebrow.
"You were unconscious, what were you going to do if he came back? Drool on him?" The words were sharp and Wolf flinched, sensing Yassen's impatience.
"I'll work with you, we can probably kill him," Yassen said slowly, catching hold of the bandage, unwinding it, and winding it again, tightening it until Wolf winced. "That'll hold."
"Thanks. But what if I don't want your help?"
"Then you'll be dead before tomorrow," Yassen replied coldly, his eyes suddenly deadly. "I can't risk you going back to MI6 or the SAS, or whatever, so that's my price. I'll help you, let's face it, you need all the help you can get, and you don't tell anyone about me." Wolf bristled and reached for the gun at his hip, only to find that it was missing. Yassen smiled and pulled it from his waistband. Wolf felt his face harden, knowing he was trapped.
"I'll do it," He said, wondering what the hell he was letting himself in for.
"Good, get some sleep," replied Yassen, turning away and walking from the room.