Uni has been quite demanding lately, and I've been a little sick since last Saturday (because horse-riding in a T-Short when it's cold is totally a good idea) so haven't had much time for writing unfortunately.
I'm still setting things into motion here so it's not definitely not the best chapter, but we'll be taking off soon, hang on just a little longer!
On another note, holy Hell, has everyone been freaking out over the CaptainSwan preview on Tumblr or what? Checking my dash between two classes and this was literally all over it!^^
"Hurry up, agent Jones, we haven't got all day."
The thick British accent belonged to none other than one Zelena Mills, head of MI-5's London headquarters. Drawing herself up to her full height, the young director tautly returned the greetings she received from their American cousins as she past them by, eager to get to the arranged meeting room so that whatever this matter was, it would be dealt with as soon as possible.
David Nolan's call had come a mere few hours beforehand, interrupting her typing up of a very important email and requesting her presence on American soil as soon as possible, that this was not a meeting up for negotiations and that her and her agents' help was going to be crucial. Needless to say, Zelena had not been the most eager to comply, but her job came before her personal feelings towards the man, and with a quick redistribution of her duties to someone else in the service she knew she could trust while she would be absent and a few last-minute calls, she had been quick to book herself and her two operatives a direct flight to America.
Finding an agent or two to bring along hadn't been easy business either, for many of her more skilled ones were already seeing to cases around London or up North with their Scottish brethren, namely Ruby Lucas and Jefferson, both of whom were still trying to get to the bottom of a possible criminal network based in Glasgow, meaning she could not bring them with her. Instead, her colleagues at the head of GCHQ had insisted she spare only agents who might not be required on duty while she was away, which had left her with little choice as to who she could chose, given that Marco, as head of section, was to stay behind and oversee the running of her organization in her absence.
Elsa Frost had been the first agent she'd sought out for the task, knowing that a computer specialist and remarkably resourceful young woman when it came to anything related to electronics was an asset she could hop to put to good use. Zelena had had her on her team for a few years now, and the blonde, while quite lacking in self confidence at the beginning, had developed some serious skills and helped her pinpoint numerous groups and suspects on more than one occasion. Mills was pretty certain that if Nolan was going to be needing anyone to deconstruct clues originating from a computer terminal, Frost was the one agent most suitable for the task.
Killian Jones had been the last-minute choice she'd made when it came to picking out a field agent to bring along. She had initially been considering Alice Kinglseigh but after a quick read through her agents' files, Jones had seemed slightly more suitable –being the latest addition to her team of field agents, maybe this might be the opportunity for her to see for herself what he exactly was made of, and if anything, it would get him used to the real thing. And familiarizing him with their American cousins was also something he would need to get down with, given how MI5 and the CIA were set on sharing information, so Zelena thought she might as well give him his first taste of it now rather than wait until another crisis arose.
Trailing behind, the two agents in question had decided to refrain against asking Mills any further questions, gathering that she was probably not in the mood to discuss the problem at hand any more with them until they met up with their CIA counterpart. She hadn't told them much, when the phone-call came late the previous night, only to pack a small bag and meet her on the grid as quickly as possible before being whisked off to Heathrow and taking the first plane to Newport News-Williamsburg International Airport, and it went without saying that the flight had been tense.
Zelena had, for the most part, remained quiet, reading through the short report Nolan had sent to her about his agent Humbert and the small bits and pieces he'd been working on –something drug related, it would seem, but nothing beyond that. Unfortunately, there was too little there to truly build anything concrete, and it was frustrating knowing she had several hours to wait before getting anything more.
Elsa and Killian, for their part, hadn't had that much to talk about on the plane either, given that they knew nothing whatsoever on the case yet and had very little family matters to share. Engaging with Mills had seemed like a rather risked endeavor in itself, one they were not willing to chance, and so instead had both settle down to get whatever extra sleep they might be able to catch, knowing that the next few days were probably bound to be requesting their attention long after they would usually nod off if this truly was a crisis they ought to be worrying about.
However, now following in Mill's footsteps, her pristine high-heeled boots echoing off the polished floor and mostly-empty corridor, they both found themselves slightly anticipating what was to come next. Neither had ever really been outside of their headquarters in London when it came to a mission (excluding maybe that one time they'd been sent to Edinburgh to watch over security for some important peace talk, and judging by Mill's constant lip-biting as she kept her eyes glued to her file in her hand, this was probably nothing like that), they'd been out in the streets of London –Elsa usually remaining in their MI5 van, typing away and decoding security footage and pulling up location blueprints in a record time while Killian and Jefferson were usually the ones with the guns drawn out and scouting their targeted buildings- and in that regards, Killian would say that he probably knew his way around the city like the back of his hand by now, so in a sense, coming all the way to America was oddly exciting for someone like him, who relished in the adrenalin and surviving their dangerous encounters (something he often prided himself in, much to Elsa's dismay). Only, judging by the way Zelena remained stiffly upright and absolutely reeled of tension and barely concealed anxiety, it was probably safe to assume that whatever it was she was about to put him up to, it wasn't anything like the rather local threats they dealt with on a daily basis back in London.
"You think we ought to be worrying more?" Elsa said quietly, knowing attracting Zelena's attention now wasn't something desirable. The woman obviously had enough on her plate already, and the technician would rather avoid getting on her nerves now –the possibility of getting reprimanded in front of their American colleagues was too embarrassing to even imagine.
"Couldn't say, really. But it's got to be relatively important if she's dragged us all the way to America for it." Killian ventured, nodding to one of the CIA employees as they passed him by. "Mills didn't really tell us much, did she?" And, lowering his voice slightly, knowing he really didn't fancy getting caught saying it aloud, "She doesn't seem to be doing too well either, if I'm honest." And, when Elsa looked back to where he was pointing, to Zelena's hand where she kept clenching and unclenching her fingers (discretely, unnoticeable to anybody who wasn't truly looking, but the paid of them were quite perceptive at times) she couldn't help but feel a small pang of compassion for the woman.
"Think it might have something to do in connection to with last weeks' massive increase in weapon dealing across the UK? That she might suspect American involvement somehow?" That case had been left to Wendy Darling, Zelena had made sure someone was in charge of investigating it further while she was absent, and in a way, it could make sense, Killian thought. Maybe there was more to the affair than met the eye (and given that there were a lot less legal issues concerning arms dealing in the United States than back home, maybe Zelena had put her finger on some supply group here), but it still seemed odd to him that Mills –upstanding, always cool-headed and wits-about-her Zelena Mills- would let off such an uneasy aura as she stiffly made her way to their meeting point for something like that. And he had a nagging voice in the back of his brain insisting that it had nothing to do with their little affair back in London. It obviously had to be much bigger for Mills to actually let them see her loose her composure.
"No, I don't think so. We've dealt with illegal arms-trade before, I don't think Mills would lose it for that. She definitely isn't the type."
"Makes sense." Elsa said grimly, "But then why bring us all the way here without telling us anything beforehand? What would she have to lose by keeping it all to herself?"
"Maybe she was told save it for herself until confirmation –keeping secrets is part of the trade after all." He shrugged, seemingly unconcerned.
The problem was, as each step brought them closer to their appointed meeting room, Killian could feel his stomach knotting itself rather uncomfortably, and it was not something a carefree agent like himself particularly enjoyed.
He knew for a fact that Mills wouldn't lie to them –it went against her moral code and there was no point to it anyway. She had been nothing but honest in the six years he'd been working for her and he doubted quite strongly that now would be the time she decided to lie to them. Sure, she had occasionally withheld evidence and information, but it had always been out of worry of it's veracity than out of pettiness –Zelena would rather have them work on what they knew for a fact that have them waste energy picking away at hints that turned out to be false. And it made perfect sense: if the director eventually came to have any extra verified information whatever this crisis was, she would tell them.
However, trust in his superior didn't shake off instinct, and the feeling of something off definitely lingered in the air around them.
"Yeah. I still don't like this though." Elsa tried to stop twisting her fingers –a nervous habit she had yet to break-, knowing that anybody they passed would easily be able to read her body language and pick up on her distressed state, and not for the first time did she wished she could also adopt the carefree attitude her colleague so easily endorsed.
Killian had been about to tell her that regardless of personal feelings, they didn't have much of a choice, that their job was essentially why they woke up every morning and that personal feelings didn't matter when it came to dealing with crisis, but was beaten to it when someone else spoke up before he even got the chance to open his mouth.
"Mrs. Mills?"
The familiar accent made the three of them turn around towards a rather young looking agent, with a mop of butterscotch hair and dark eyes, neatly dressed and who already had hand extended towards them in an obvious attempt to greet them.
Zelena shook it first, the young man introducing himself as one Peter Pan, and the easy going smirk that broke out across his face made Killian feel uncomfortable. The boy (because he was probably an adult, but still looked rather boyish in the face) had this unnerving way of looking at them, as if he were able to see more than he was actually willing to divulge, and while both Elsa and Mills seemed rather unfazed as they accepted the welcome and followed the other agent to the boardroom, Killian kept his eyes glued on the way Pan lead them along, confidence radiating off his body and the occasional attempt at conversation quickly brought to an end when Mills refused to engage very far with him.
He knew he was really only being a paranoiac, that the kid was just doing his job, but then again, the tone Mills had had when she had called him yesterday had been enough for him to know that this was serious, and Pan's almost too easy-going nature wasn't doing much to ease the tension. Needless to say, the trip down to the conference room hadn't been something he enjoyed, and while Pan leaving reduced the uneasy feeling somewhat, when he followed Mills and Elsa into the enclosed crisp-white space, Killian realized with a pang that this wasn't much better.
As soon as the last agent door shut the door quietly, David Nolan rose from his chair, bypassing the table to shake hands with Mills, the woman politely returning the favor before he urged them over to the table, waving to the three empty chairs to his left.
"Miss Mills, this here is my wife, Mary-Margaret whom you know of already I take it, and this here," he added, towards the young woman seated next to him "is Emma Swan. After looking through her file last night, I think I can task her with looking into this."
Emma nodded to the redhead, opting to not say anything until she was asked. Nolan had called her late last night and while she was always up for what the job required of her, this last-minute request for her to come here had cost her a good night's sleep (she'd have to catch up on that sometime soon).
Granted, she hadn't had too much of a distance to travel, given that her post in Maine wasn't too far from Fairfax and finding adequate transport had been arranged for her, it was simply the fact that this was all last-minute business that Emma wasn't particularly fond of, especially last-minute business she had no real clue as to what exactly it entailed. Nolan's message had been extremely concise and rather vague, not letting any detail slip out of fear someone might be listening in on their conversation, just telling her to come as quickly as possible, and as his subordinate, little choice had she but to accept.
She'd had only arrived shortly before and settled for the chair at the far left hand side of the desk, opting to nurse a warm plastic cup of coffee while waiting. Emma was still relatively new to the security service world, had only completed her training a few years ago and had yet to prove herself in her line of work (not that she ever doubted she would, even by her standards, she thought of herself as a relatively skilled agent), this was something she knew she could not afford to screw up and was rather anxious to get on to, if the way she continuously fiddled her cup were anything to go by.
Estimating herself a good judge of character, Emma had immediately labeled Mills as strict and rather severe, the red-headed woman's stern features not smoothening out in the slightest when she had greeted her, and quite unlike Mary Margaret Nolan who always seemed to make it her job to make even the newest agents feel at home in their service, and it was rather a stark contrast between the two. The long fingers encircling her hand were marked by years of experience and testified to many a time out in the field itself, Emma deducted after quickly glancing up and down the woman's exposed skin, and the dark black and green tailored dress she wore were definitely a testament to her temperament –cold, stern and just a small hint of color. Concealing the gulp of anticipation wasn't something Emma had been anticipating.
Elsa Frost was a lot more pleasant, and as she the slightly older technician, Emma could feel half of the tension she'd previously carried on her shoulders slightly ebb away –not completely, never completely: these were still strangers, and Emma didn't do well with letting people in- but the way Elsa had expressed her enthusiasm when it came to working with them, and that if ever she personally had any problems regarding her computer that she was more than happy to lend assistance, it made Emma slightly relieved to know that maybe she had a nice new colleague she could rely on. Not a friend. Emma didn't have friends in this line of work.
She wasn't too sure what to make of Jones though. He had a cocky air to him, one Emma didn't particularly like nor look forward to have to work with. He was polite, as was expected of him obviously, but Emma would have been blind if she were to say that she hadn't notice him trying to charm his way into her good graces –what with the eyebrow raise and the odd accent, but Emma wasn't one to fall for such trivialities. If Mills had brought him along, she was pretty certain he must have had something to offer beyond his looks (or she hoped so, at least. He wasn't going to survive very long if he solely relied on them).
Regardless, she was here above all to do her job, self-assured annoying Brit' spy along for the run or not, and she damn well intended to deliver, Emma Swan hadn't spent so much time training to fail now. Resolutely, she leant back in her chair, crossing her arms slightly when Jones raised an eyebrow at her –no, she wasn't playing that game with him thank you very much.
"Thank you for make it here so quickly, all of you." David was the one to break the ice, treading as carefully as possible around Mills and acknowledging Emma's early morning with a nod. It wasn't much, but she took it for what it was, gratitude.
"Given your message, I didn't have much of a choice. Care to share what that was about?"
"Mary Margaret and I had an operation running here, an asset we implanted in one of the local drug groups but he was tipped off-" at this he turned towards Mary Margaret, who, rather reluctantly, pushed David's computer monitor towards their four guests, the gruesome image they had received as an email attachment now full on display.
Emma gulped. Whatever it was Nolan had requested her for, she hadn't expected, well… This. She felt a pang of loss for the obviously young agent, and her stomach made a flip as she took in the extent of what had been done to him before he had died.
"Does it remind you of anything?"
"Underworld." Zelena breathed, and Emma noticed how her face seemed to have turned several shades paler. "But how? What on earth are they doing here? "
"We don't know, they've only been here for a few months at the most but this is definitely their doing. I'd put agent Humbert and an asset of mine on to them, a very confidential mission with very little outer access, but unfortunately his cover was blown, someone tipped the group off and they killed him."
"All right. And apart from that, have they made any requests? Further demands?" Zelena leaned forward, and Emma could see that a spark of interest had lit up in her eyes, like something burnt out long ago suddenly catching flame once again. It was odd, how different she was to Nolan and his more distant attitude.
"Not really." Mary Margaret sighed, pointing towards her husband's computer monitor. "After we got the call from Queen, we also received an anonymous email and…" She picked up two pieces of paper form the desk, handing them over to Zelena, who then passed them on to her own agents and to Emma, who herself had to look twice to make sure she was actually seeing things straight. The mutilated corpse made her stomach churn, and the added ID and short message of We know scrawled next to the poor victim's head had her anxiety rising –this was far more serious than Nolan had made it out to be on the phone, and it was certainly nothing like what Emma had ever looked into before either. Hell, right now she wasn't even sure if she was still the right candidate for the job!
"The same thing happened to Agent Neal Cassidy five years ago when I put him onto them too." Zelena mumbled quietly, and Emma's head shot up.
Cassidy?
Emma briefly recalled the man –tall, dark hair, an easy-going nature- she had worked with him a few times when he had come over as a representative. They'd been quite skilled when it came to hacking into services and both had made quite the team (she'd even relented and let him take her out for a meal, and it had been quite nice), but now learning that he was dead made this whole affair seem a lot less inviting than it initially had. Especially when her turn came around to take a look at Humbert's photograph –no, she would definitely rather avoid having that happen to her if possible.
Sparing a glance to the other two agents, she could see that the blonde was obviously shaken up, given how she was biting her lip and her eyes were blown wide as she took in the picture (and would the situation have been slightly different, Emma might have looked for words of comfort to offer her, but this was neither the time nor place) and Jones looked, well, blank. Whether it was a well-timed mask or whether it was the job having removed his ability to feel compassion toward a fellow deceased colleague, Emma wasn't too sure, but she certainly hoped it was the former. It was strange though, she found herself thinking, how Frost was so open with how she felt, in that regards, she was very much like Mary Margaret, and it was almost a relief to know that Nolan's wife wasn't the only one of her kind on their world of dirt and lies. Mills and Jones were almost the two she could relate to more, and while she certainly didn't like the latter's sense of easy-goingness, she was glad to see that he did seem to have some degree of training when it came to keeping a straight face.
"Cassidy would probably have had a very good career had he not been so unfortunate." Zelena continued, still looking down at the picture. "I did try to set up a team to track down Underworld after he died, but they simply… Disappeared. I put a few of my technicians onto it just to be sure, but there were no traces across the United Kingdom and after months with still no results, GCHQ eventually told us to shut the operation down, obviously of a mind that there were other threats we were better off seeing to. I should have known." She sighed, shaking her head.
"Well, this time's your chance. If we work this out well, we might be able to catch them once and for all, get rid of them for good!" How Mary Margaret could be so optimist, Emma still wasn't sure, but after a few years of working under the woman and she still having not changed in the slightest, she had just learnt to go along with it, even if the attitude could seem odd. Like now, for example. "Is there anything you can share with us from what you had gathered back then? Any information Cassidy might have given you?"
"Nay. I hadn't put him on the case for very long, at least not long enough for him to get solid information. Cassidy did find a relatively moderate member of the group, and I did have Cassidy try to get information out of him, but the poor bloke was too scared for his life, and didn't give us much to go on. All that we got at the time was that Underworld began as a small protest group against biochemistry research for weapons and that the group itself was rather violent when it came to demonstrations against the big laboratories. They had been vocal for about several types of threats they had planned to carry out but in the end, they never went through with it and we never really got to the heart of the group. I also had several technicians roam online forums and sites, but nothing there either, they seemed to avoid social media at any rate."
"Well, whatever happened in England, they're back at it again, only here, on American soil instead. And it's a much bigger territory this time around." Mary Margaret said grimly, still shaken by the gruesome picture she and her husband had received the other day.
"And if what Asset Queen told us is correct, that Agent Humbert was indeed tipped off by someone who had access to knowledge about the operation, we have a serious security breach on top of that." David added, coming back to the problem at hand and why exactly he had asked for Agent Swan and director Mills to make it here. "If one of our CIA or MI5 agents is feeding confidential information to Underworld, we can't afford to let the group continue on, we have to take it down before it uses what it already might know against us. And that's where Swan comes in."
Emma, who had been snooping through the Humbert's file once more, trying to get a feel for the man and for who they were up against –crime scenes often spoke volumes one's temperament after all- looked back up.
"You are a newly appointed field officer, am I right?" Zelena's tone was clipped, and if Emma didn't know any better, she would have said that, going by the slanted eyes and the piercing stare, Mills was actually judging her. Well, time to show her what she was capable of, and that one British head of security wasn't what would intimidate Emma Swan.
"Yes M'am. I was offered the job last year. Been alternating between grid and field work since." Keep it simple and to the point, they usually liked that, besides, waxy vocabulary was best used for politics after all.
A nod of approval, that was good at least. "Well, Miss Swan, in the spirit of collaboration, we want you and Agent Jones here to work together. We'll be doing what we can from the grid, along with other matters I'm here to see to, but the both of you are field officers, and we're counting on you to get to the bottom of this breach so we can close down whatever threat this might pose before it actually happens. I'm also giving you access to our MI5 files via Jones if ever you need them, and in turn, he will have access to yours at the CIA, which I deem fair enough?" Turning towards Nolan for confirmation, Emma saw the man nod to the red-head, confirming her requests, and she deflated slightly, a little disappointed that she wouldn't get to show Jones her skills when it came to breaking into computers. It wasn't a part of her life she was particularly proud of, but it had given her skills that came in useful at her every-day life in the CIA, and Emma was pretty certain Jones couldn't account for those skills –he looked way too relaxed to be the type interested in computer coding and secret messaging.
Maybe she might be able to teach him a thing or two –not that she was thinking of sparing extra time for the guy. He was just here for the crisis, once it was over, Emma knew he would be out of her life forever and she would just go back to her station Maine and everything would be normal again.
"We have a safehouse set up for the both of you only a short distance away." David added sliding a pair of keys toward her, and it took Emma a moment to register what exactly he'd said.
A safehouse set up for the both of you.
Oh, hell no.
Emma did not want to have to share a house with him. Granted, she didn't actually know Jones, and it was maybe a little unfair to judge him after only a few minutes, but from what she'd gathered, the carefree attitude was definitely not something she was looking forward to have to work with, let alone live with. Nolan could be cruel sometimes, it would seem.
Looking at him again, Jones was still leaning back in his chair, still listening and nodding to whatever was being said to him regarding the mobile phone Nolan was handing him (oh that's right, he would have had to pay extra with his personal mobile, Emma thought), but he just seemed too… Casual about all this, and it frustrated her.
That, and the fact that she was going to have to work closely with a total stranger. Emma knew she didn't do well with strangers, much less working with them for an extended period of time. Granted, he didn't look unkind or out to get her, but looks could be deceiving, especially in her line of work, and as she glanced once again to the bloodied photograph on the desk, Emma made up her mind that she would not let him in –and that if he did try, she was sure to make it difficult. Besides, how long could this case last? A month at the most, probably, she deemed, there was no reason for them to be remotely close when in thirty days they would likely never see each other again.
"Here's the file Humbert was working on, just to give you an idea and somewhere to start." Frost caught it, flipping it through quickly before passing it to Jones, and Emma knew it would be the first thing she'd want to check once they made it to their shared house, anything to limit her interaction with him would be welcomed.
"We won't be keeping you any longer for now." Mary Margaret said as she rose from her chair, shaking Elsa's hand first and then hers, signaling that they were dismissed. "You should get some rest for tonight, start working on all this tomorrow, I don't want my agents to be overtired."
Elsa was the first one to leave, Mills telling her she had her one place with August Booth, one of the analysts Emma knew well from joint missions they had happened to share. Not for the first time that evening did she wish to be sharing a place with someone familiar and not be about to invite a total stranger into an enclosed and personal space.
Turning back to him, Jones seemed to either not have entirely heard the dismissal or partly executed it before stopping, for he now was crouched over his phone, typing away furiously and delaying what a very anticipated reunion between Emma and a soft bed –what she wouldn't give to be in one right now.
"Are you coming?" She tried to remain civil all the same, knowing better than to antagonize someone she was about to work with for who knew how long. However, as he made it to the door and stopped at the frame, actually waving her through with an "after you", Emma couldn't help but roll her eyes slightly.
Really, of all the agents Mills have brought along, did she really have to have found the most irritating one at hand? (Because agents weren't chivalrous, they simply weren't, and to Emma, this certainly what she would label as "normal"). And maybe Jones did smile at her, (and maybe, Emma thought for a moment, he was genuinely trying to be nice to her), but she certainly wasn't going to make it easy on him.
Oh no, Emma Swan did not play about. She knew very well that was here to see this operation through, and that did not include making friends with the likes of Killian Jones.