Hi, me again! Sorry for the long gap, I was going to put this up last night, but that didn't work out. Anyway, here's chapter 11 :)

Yassen first instinct was to shoot. But training overrode it; Skinner was using Alex as a shield and he wouldn't be able to shoot anything fatal on him without hitting Alex. And that was something he couldn't let happen.

"Let him go." Wolf said slowly, his voice was low and calming. Yassen recognised hostage negotiation techniques: the gentle voice, the way Wolf had lowered himself down slightly so he looked like less of a threat.

"Nah, I don't think I will. This kid's gonna be my ticket out of here, and away from you two. What did I ever do to you?" He asked, his voice rising hysterically. Yassen saw his finger tighten on the trigger and tensed, although he knew that he wouldn't have a chance of reaching Alex before the bullet would.

"That doesn't matter. Just let Alex go and we can talk," Wolf said, eyes flickering sideways towards Yassen.

"I've already said no. Don't you get that? Let me walk away and you might not be scraping dear Alex, wasn't it? You might not be scraping dear Alex here off the road. Or perhaps even roads. I'm not fussy," Skinner's voice was light. He could have been ordering another beer, but he wasn't, he was threatening to kill a fourteen-year-old boy.

Wolf was at a loss. He could see that Skinner wasn't going to be dissuaded. He glanced sideways at Yassen, but the Russian didn't meet his eyes; his gaze was fixed intently on Alex, squirming weakly in Skinner's grasp. His expression was strange, a mixture of sadness and –was it possible- fear.

Wolf turned back and looked at them too. He saw the fearful expression on Alex's face and regretted allowing him to come with them; he could have been back at the campsite if it wasn't for him.

Alex was doing some quick thinking. The gun was pressed against his temple, but Skinner hadn't turned the safety off, so the gun was essentially useless, except as a club. He squirmed slightly, trying to get his feet onto the floor, but Skinner's arm was clamped too tightly around his chest for him to achieve anything. He was just grateful that he hadn't seized him around the throat. Alex watched as Wolf and Yassen converged, whispering frantically. Or rather, Wolf whispered; Yassen remained silent, his eyes fixed on Skinner. Though, and here Alex was unsure, at times Yassen seemed to be watching him rather than his captor.

Skinner was also watching Yassen and Wolf, so Alex took the opportunity to wriggle a bit more. He sucked in a breath, pulled his stomach in, and felt himself slip slightly in Skinner's grasp. His feet hit the sand and he looked round. Skinner hadn't noticed that he was standing on the ground; he was still too involved in the conversation at the foot of the sand dune.

By writhing in his grasp, Alex managed to gain some space around his body. Enough to turn round.

Skinner wasn't experienced with the gun in his hand. Alex could see that it sat awkwardly in his grip. If he'd had more experience he wouldn't have had to look for the safety to turn it off. As it was, he did, and the moment his gaze left Alex, the boy struck.

His fist drove into Skinner's stomach, making him gasp. His grip on the gun slackened in shock. Alex knocked it out of his hand and brought his knee up sharply. Skinner folded in half, groaning and swearing. He released Alex in an instinctive, though feeble attempt at protection.

Alex ran down the dune to Wolf and Yassen, pride evident in his face. Wolf looked dumbstruck; he hadn't expected Alex to do anything. Yassen on the other hand, merely looked pleased. In fact, Alex thought, he looked as if he'd expected him to make an escape.

"Well done, you did good, Cub," Wolf said, grinning. Yassen nodded once and Alex took it to be a sign of approval. He nodded in return and then turned to Wolf, aware that he was speaking again. But he didn't get time to focus on the words.

Behind him, Yassen swore softly. The word was so unexpected that both Alex and Wolf froze for a second. Alex whipped round, followed Yassen's gaze and swore much more loudly. Wolf laughed, but was already halfway up the dune; Yassen was a few steps ahead. Skinner was nowhere to be seen.

As the sky overhead got steadily darker, Yassen followed his blood-spattered footprints through the cold sand. Despite himself, Yassen was impressed by Skinner's ability to keep going through this terrain. He and Wolf had been following him in circles for hours now. Alex was still with Wolf, having called Jack to say he'd be back late.

But finally, Yassen turned to Wolf and spoke for the first time in hours.

"Take Alex back. He's exhausted and I can find Skinner on my own." The words were brusque and hoarse.

"I'll take him back after," Wolf argued.

"No, take him back now," Yassen snarled. Tiredness and frustration had worn the barrier that hid his emotions very thin indeed. Wolf wisely decided not to argue and, taking Alex by the arm, he led him up the dune and out of sight.

Yassen smiled, glad that he had convinced Wolf to take Alex back. He didn't want the boy to see what he was going to do to Skinner when he found him. He swapped the gun for a knife, certain that Skinner wasn't armed now Alex had knocked his gun away. Yassen usually killed with a gun, but after everything that Skinner had put him through over the last few days, he felt that he didn't deserve the quick death that a bullet brought.

He weighed the knife in his hand for a moment, leapt forward and within two bounds was at the crest of the nearest dune. Skinner was visible about twenty yards away on the top of a sandbank. He glanced back at Yassen, watched in shock as he crouched and sprang, cat-like, across the gap between them. He landed halfway up the next dune and was at the top in a flash.

He shot Skinner a friendly smile. The man turned and ran. He fell and rolled to the bottom. By the time he had cleared his mouth of sand and gasped in a breath of air, Yassen was upon him.

His knife slashed through the darkness, glinting silver as a sliver of light glanced off the blade. Dark blood spattered the sand around him as Yassen slashed the blade across Skinner's throat, twisted his arm with lightning swiftness, and plunged it into his chest. He slid it directly between his ribs and it slid in smoothly up to the hilt.

Twisting the knife, Yassen pulled it free and stood up. Skinner watched him with dull, lifeless eyes before they rolled back in his head and he fell still. Yassen smiled again, this time it was triumphant. He bent and wiped the knife on Skinner's jacket, not worried about leaving DNA; the police were already after him, so he might as well give them another reason. If Skinner was even found. Yassen wasn't sure where he was; it could be weeks before his body was found.

Yassen turned away from Skinner's prone form and climbed to the top of the nearest sand dune. He came up facing the sea; he could see the faint reflections of the moonlight on the water. Glancing left across the dunes, he could just make out the dark shapes of Wolf and Alex. He hesitated, part of him was saying that he should leave now, before anyone realised that he was here. But another part rebelled against the idea; he owed Wolf his life, and he wanted to say goodbye, if nothing else. He carefully kept his thoughts away from Alex; he hadn't expected to see him again, and definitely not here.

He made up his mind within seconds, turned left and followed Wolf and Alex towards the campsite. Behind him, a light breeze blew a thin covering of sand over Skinner's body.