Thanks for all the lovely comments on the last chapter, guys! I'm particularly excited about the people who've started watching Jake 2.0 because of this story. Victory arms! There are no spoilers for specific episodes of Jake in this chapter, so MyGoldenGlow, you can relax ;). Hope you guys enjoy this one!

Retrieval

Chapter Three

Annie felt her mouth drop open, and she wasn't sure she would've been able to speak even if it hadn't been likely to give Auggie away; as it was, Auggie put a finger to his lips and slipped inside the room, closing the door with the slightest of clanks and then standing just inside it, head cocked on one side like he was listening. Annie wanted to ask him what he was doing, she wanted to ask him about the dried blood encrusted under his nose, she wanted to ask him how the hell he'd got there, but Auggie was still motioning for quiet, and she forced herself to sit still and silent for a long, long moment.

"OK," said Auggie finally, speaking half in a whisper. "I think we're good now. Where are you?"

"I'm here," Annie said, the words still rough from her encounter with the gas. "Auggie, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Saving your ass." Auggie took three paces forward and reached out, dropping a hand onto the top of her head and another onto her shoulder. "I was waiting for an engraved invitation, but I figured Miss Manners would let it slide this once. Handcuffs?"

"Rope," Annie said, her wrists already tensing in anticipation.

"Good." Auggie said. "I hate picking locks." He crouched, pulling a penknife out of his back pocket, and ran a hand down her left arm to wear the thick bundle of rope was cutting off the circulation in her hand. She stifled a gasp as his fingers brushed her swollen thumb.

"Dislocated?" Auggie said. "I thought you said no handcuffs?"

"Not any more." Annie braced herself for more pain, but somehow Auggie managed to saw through the rope without the barest brush against her thumb. The right wrist was even faster, and then he handed her the knife.

"You OK to get your ankles?"

"Yeah." Annie leaned down and started on the ropes – wow, the knife was damn sharp – but something about the way Auggie was still crouched in front of her with this intensity in his face made her pause. "What is it?" she said.

"Stand up," Auggie said, and Annie did, the last of the ropes falling away. Auggie stood too, hands hovering just above her shoulders and then moving, down her arms, across her chest, over her hips, always half an inch or so away from making contact.

"Auggie?" she whispered. If it had been any other guy, she'd've felt a little creeped out, but as it was, it was just, it was just – unsettling.

"Turn around," Auggie said, and she did, feeling prickles in her skin as the barely-tangible warmth of Auggie's hovering hands moved across her back.

And then.

"Give me the knife," he said, and she handed it over without a moment's thought. "This is going to sting a little," Auggie said, and then there was the slithering sound of silk ripping – and she couldn't help feel a momentary twinge for her blouse, even though after everything it had been through since she'd been kidnapped, it didn't really deserve the name blouse any more – and a cold pinch against her shoulder blade that turned into a rush of heat and pain and the feeling of blood sliding down her back.

"What are you doing?" she asked, and for just a moment, she thought about how someone had compromised the operation in Helsinki and how she had no idea how Auggie had known how to find her and how he was standing behind her now with a knife she had handed over to him, and she remembered what one of the instructors on the Farm had once taught her: in the end, the only person you can truly trust is yourself. And sometimes, not even that.

And then Auggie took her by the shoulders and spun her back round, holding out his hand palm-up. A tiny, metallic object lay in a pool of blood in the centre of his palm.

"Tracker," he said, and laid it carefully on the seat of the chair.

Annie felt her mouth drop open. "How-" she started, but Auggie interrupted her.

"Annie," he said. "I promise I will tell you all about it, but not right now, OK?"

Annie stared at the tracker. It was small enough that she could almost have dismissed it as a speck of dirt. "You know," she said, "you could at least buy a girl a drink before cutting foreign objects out of her skin."

The corners of Auggie's mouth twitched, and he dug into his pocket. "Here," he said, holding out a hip flask.

Annie unscrewed the top and sniffed. "Tequila?" she said. "Wow. You're one classy guy."

"Hey," Auggie said. "Daring rescues, minor surgery and mid-range Mexican firewater – don't tell me I don't treat you like a princess." Annie shook her head and took a pull of the tequila, coughing a little as it burned her already-raw throat. She was feeling more together every moment, but Auggie's face had turned serious.

"Where's Kyle?" he said.

"Kyle?" What with the electromagnet and the gas and the threat of surgery, Annie had almost forgotten about Duarte. "I don't know."

"Where was the last place you saw him?" Auggie asked, wiping the bloody knife on his pants and folding it up.

"Auggie," Annie said, "Duarte's working for them."

"What? No, he isn't." Auggie sounded weirdly firm, given that he'd only just got there, but Annie didn't have time to worry about that right now.

"Yes, he is," she said. Auggie was turning away, toward the door, but Annie stepped forward and grabbed his wrist. "I overheard him talking to Dumont. He's a double agent."

"Really," Auggie said. "And did Dumont know you were listening?"

"Of course n-" Annie had a sudden flash of the last time she'd spoken to Dumont. I was the one who arranged for your escape, that's what he'd said. But that was ridiculous. "Listen, I'm telling you, he's dirty. We have to get out of here."

"Annie." Auggie turned back to face her, gripping her upper arms and ducking his head so it was like he was looking into her face. "There are two trucks outside the main entrance, but they're guarded. There's a vehicle hidden in the woods about a click and a half from the main entrance, bearing sixty degrees magnetic. Here." He dug in his pocket and held out a set of keys.

"What?" Annie said. "What are you talking about?"

"You can leave if you want. Maybe you even should. But I'm not going anywhere without Kyle." Auggie fumbled for her hand and pressed the keys into them. "OK?"

Annie stared down at the keys in her hand. Auggie was already turning away. "No," she said. "No, Jesus, it's not OK! I mean, how are you even going to find him?"

Auggie turned back toward her and grinned. "I found you, didn't I?" he said.

The sense of deja vu as Annie slipped out of the room she was coming to think of as a cell was momentarily disorienting. There she was again, no shoes, hand throbbing, every sense straining to pick up any sign of danger, sliding down the empty, silent corridor. But this time, Auggie was in front of her, moving slowly but purposefully, one hand pressed to the wall. It ought to have freaked her out, made her even more tense – now she was responsible for Auggie's safety as well as her own, and he wasn't a field agent, wasn't even supposed to be here, didn't even have his cane – but somehow, the swish of his sneakers on the concrete made her feel just a little safer.

When they hit the first intersection, Auggie paused for a second, like he was listening to something she couldn't hear. At first, she thought he'd picked up the sound of someone coming, but there was no extra urgency in his movements as he turned left. It was like somehow he knew exactly where to go, and actually, Annie was starting to get kind of freaked out now. She wanted to ask him where he was going, how he was choosing his route, how he'd known where to find her in the first place. In fact, there weren't many questions in existence that she didn't want to ask Auggie right now. But they were in hostile territory with no idea how close the enemy was, and talking was going to have to wait.

Every intersection was the same deal: Auggie would pause, listen, and then make a decisive turn. Only one time did Annie hear anything apart from their own soft footsteps: the rumble of voices, a long way off, but apparently close enough to make Auggie decide to retrace their steps a short distance. The voices faded, and they kept moving. Annie started to feel like she was in a dreamworld, nothing but peeling paint and green doors and the whispering of Auggie's shoes.

And then Auggie stopped. The door he stopped outside was the same as every door they'd passed, as far as Annie could see, but Auggie stopped there for a long moment, so long that she was almost ready to risk speaking to ask him what the problem was. Then he slid the palm of one hand down the door, and produced lock-picking tools from his pocket with the other.

This room. Annie had no idea why, but it was becoming glaringly clear that Auggie had talents she knew nothing about. In particular, he seemed to be psychic. It wasn't that Annie hadn't liked the X-Files, but when she boarded the plane for Helsinki, she really hadn't expected to walk into an episode. Still, there were worse things in life to aspire to than Dana Scully.

Annie hip-checked Auggie gently, and he moved aside, raising his eyebrows in her general direction. She answered his silent question by taking the lock-picking tools from his hand. Auggie hated lock-picking, and to be honest, Annie was starting to feel kinda useless.

Auggie's lips twitched into a half-smile. Thanks, he mouthed, and Annie grinned back and pressed his hand, then sank into a crouch. Time to do what she did best: break something.

The room behind the door Auggie picked was almost identical to the one Annie had been held in: dim light, high ceiling, no windows or furniture except a battered metal chair with a man tied to it. Duarte. He was facing the door, head hanging, duct-tape across his mouth and dried blood smeared across his temple, and even though Annie had heard his conversation with Dumont, she had to admit that his impression of a kidnapping victim was pretty damn convincing.

Duarte raised his head sluggishly at the sound of Annie's feet on the concrete. He blinked at her, and then his eyes went behind her to Auggie and widened until she thought for a second they would fall out of the sockets. Annie started forward, but Auggie's hand on her shoulder pulled her up short, and she turned back to see he'd laid his finger on his lips and was listening, like he had when he'd first appeared in her own cell. To be honest, the whole routine was pretty weird, but since it most definitely wasn't the weirdest thing that Auggie had done in the past twenty minutes, Annie was willing to let it slide. Well, at least for now. As soon as they were somewhere safer, she was totally going Dana Scully on his ass.

After a couple of seconds, Auggie nodded. "Clear," he said, and produced his knife again. "Kyle's here?"

"He's here." Annie grabbed the knife and started on Duarte's bonds. He was still blinking at Auggie, eyes bulging, and as soon as she'd freed one hand, he reached up and ripped off the duct tape.

"Jake," he said. "How-" He seemed not to know how to finish the sentence, mouth opening and closing

Annie frowned and glanced back at Auggie. Jake?

As far as she could tell, though, Auggie wasn't weirded out by the name at all. "Kyle, listen, we have to get out of here," he said. "I'll explain later, I promise."

"But-" Duarte was struggling to his feet, swaying. Annie wondered how bad that head injury was.

"I promise," said Auggie, and took a few paces forward. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah, I. Yeah." Duarte was still staring at Auggie, his face pale, eyes stretched. To be honest, Annie wasn't really convinced about the walking part, but she wasn't really sold on the idea of having to carry Duarte out of there, either, so she kept her mouth shut.

"OK, one more thing," Auggie said, and raised his hands, ghosting them over Duarte like he'd done to Annie earlier. He was fast, efficient, and Annie wondered if she'd just imagined how slow the same process had been when it was her being felt up. Not that felt up was the right phrase. Um. Anyway, the point was, Auggie found and removed another tracker in what felt like seconds, and Duarte barely even flinched, allowing himself to be prodded and manipulated like a doll, and just staring at Auggie the whole time. It was actually kinda creepy. Annie remembered that Duarte could be a double agent (and she wouldn't even have added the could be if Auggie hadn't seemed so damn sure), and made a mental note to keep herself between him and Auggie at all times. She wasn't sure how much it would help if she ended up with a knife in the back five minutes earlier than Auggie did, but no-one ever said being a spy had to make sense.

"All right," Auggie said, laying the tracker on the chair. "Much as I love hanging round creepy abandoned buildings waiting to be jumped, I think it's about time we blew this pop stand."

"South," said Auggie, voice barely above a whisper, and pressed an object into Annie's hand. She looked down: a compass.

"There's a side entrance in the south wall," Auggie said. "It's how I got in. This place is a maze, but as far as I can tell there's hardly any dead ends, so if we just keep heading as directly south as possible, we ought to be able to find it."

"Got it." Annie took a reading and turned left

"OK." Auggie slung his arm round Duarte's shoulders. "Help me out here, Kyle, I need you to show me where to go. One foot in front of the other, follow Annie, OK?"

Duarte nodded, still seeming dazed, and they moved off. Glancing back, Annie wasn't sure whether Duarte was leading Auggie or Auggie was supporting Duarte. In the end, she figured it didn't matter as long as they got the hell out of this place. She felt like she'd spent days doing nothing but sneaking up and down these corridors, with occasional breaks to be tied up or knocked out by poison gas or gloated at by a crazy person. Really, she'd expected better than this from Scandinavia.

She turned left again at the next intersection, checking behind her to make sure Auggie and Duarte were following OK, and then hung a right, two more lefts, and then – dead end. The corridor they'd come to ran east and west, and turned north at both ends. The south wall was bare except for a single door. It looked pretty much like all the rest of the doors in this godforsaken place – and she found herself wondering just how much ugly green paint they'd used up here – except that there was a barely-detectable wire leading from the top of the doorframe up into the tangle of exposed pipes on the ceiling.

"There's no more south," she whispered, and Auggie and Duarte stood still. "Just a door."

"That's where we're going," Auggie said. "I left it unlocked."

"There's an alarm." Annie eyed it, wondering what would happen if she cut the wire.

"Not a problem," Auggie said. "I disabled it when I came in."

"Are you sure?" It wasn't that Annie didn't trust Auggie, it was just that that wire was definitely intact, and Annie couldn't see any other way of disabling the alarm. There was no keypad, no obvious electronics, nothing to be tampered with.

"I'm sure," Auggie said. "Let's go."

Annie took a deep breath and turned the handle, tensing herself to run. The door swung open with a low creak, but nothing else happened: if they had tripped the alarm, it was a silent one. And outside – outside was outside, sky and ground and trees, and Annie had never thought a scrubby pine forest on a drizzly day could look so much like paradise.

"Let's go," she whispered, and stepped out into the open air.

"I think I've found it," Annie said, eyeing the huge pile of greenery.

"What makes you so sure?" Auggie stopped a few steps behind her, one arm still round Duarte's shoulders.

"Well, there just... aren't too many car-sized lumps covered with tree branches in this forest," Annie said, looking around at the flat, monotonous terrain that stretched out in all directions from what was really obviously a hidden vehicle. "I mean, it might even have been less conspicuous if you hadn't tried to hide it." And how had he hidden it, anyway? More importantly, how had he driven it there in the first place?

Auggie made a face. "I'm hurt you don't appreciate my artistry," he said. "It took me forever to collect all those branches."

"Yeah, well, let's hope it doesn't take forever to clear them away again." Annie grabbed a branch and tossed it behind her. "Hey, you know, this is a really shiny car," she said. "Where'd you get it?"

"I borrowed it," Auggie said, stepping forward and hauling on some greenery. "I needed one that was almost completely computer controlled."

Annie paused in the act of hurling a branch. "Why?" she asked, and she didn't miss the look Duarte threw Auggie, even if Auggie did.

"I'll tell you later," Auggie said.

"No, you know what?" Annie dropped the branch she was holding and turned to face Auggie. "Why don't you tell me now? Because I'm getting kind of sick of this cloak-and-dagger crap. How am I supposed to be effective in the field if I have no idea what information you're working from or how you're getting it?"

"Jake." Duarte had stopped clearing, as well, and was stepping forward, but Auggie shrugged off his hand.

"I'll handle this, Kyle," he said.

"And that's another thing," Annie said, and she was aware her voice was rising, but didn't seem to be able to stop it. "You two know each other? Auggie, why didn't you tell me back at Langley? And what's with the Jake business?"

"Annie," Auggie started, but then he stopped, lifting his head. "Shit," he said. "They've noticed you're gone."

"How do you know?" Annie asked.

"I can hear them." Auggie was dragging the last of the branches off the car, movements hurried. "Annie, you have the keys. Let's go."

Annie knew it was ridiculous, but she was half-ready to stay there and argue some more. She wanted answers almost more than she wanted to breathe. And then again, the problem there was that if she wasn't careful, breathing wasn't something any of them were going to be doing for much longer. Dammit. She took a couple of deep breaths and unlocked the driver's side door, sliding into the seat and trying to let the anger drain away. There would be time for that later. Assuming they lived that long.

Auggie was in shotgun, back straight, face tense. "They're coming this way," he said. "Drive. Try and throw them off."

Annie filed away the how do you know that? into the file in her brain marked questions for later – and hoo boy, that thing was getting big – and stepped on the gas, weaving between the trees. The car was one of those tiny European smart things designed to be able to park inside a matchbox. As it turned out, that meant it was awesome for fitting through small gaps between pine trees, too. In fact, maybe that was the original point and the whole parking thing was just a by-product. How many car-chases were there in European forests, anyway? Maybe it was some kind of regional sport.

"They're still following us," Auggie said, breaking in on her thoughts. "Dammit, there must be another tracker."

"Can you find it?" Annie swerved, narrowly avoiding ripping the right wing-mirror off.

"No time. Hang on." Auggie leaned forward, gripping the dash. Annie thought about asking what he was doing, but she was actually beginning to hate that question.

"What are you doing?" Duarte said from the back seat, grabbing the head rest as Annie took a particularly sharp turn.

"I'm converting the GPS so that it sends positional data to the satellite on the same frequency as the trackers Dumont was using," Auggie said, fingers tense on the dash. "It's strong enough that it should drown out the other signal."

"So they'll track the car instead of us?" Annie said.

"That's the idea," said Auggie.

"Can you send a signal to the NSA to let them know where we are?" Duarte asked, but Auggie shook his head.

"Tried earlier," he said. "Dumont's jamming all the satellites in the area so they only send signals to him. Hell, maybe he just owns all the satellites in the area." He sounded uncharacteristically frayed, and Annie glanced over to see that blood was oozing from his nose down over his lips and chin.

"Jesus, Auggie," she said. "You're bleeding."

"Hey, is there anything small and heavy in here? Like a brick or something?" Auggie said, ignoring Annie's concern. He swiped at the blood flowing down his face, succeeding only in smearing it across his cheek.

"Here, this was under the seat." Duarte leaned forward, handing Auggie a clear glass bottle full of colourless liquid. There was no label, and Auggie twisted off the cap and sniffed it.

"Home-brewed vodka," he said. "What a waste." He handed it to Annie. "I need you to find a long, straight run and then wedge this on the gas pedal," he said. "There's a disused mine about three clicks from here, bearing ninety-six degrees. If we can get underground before they find the car and shut the GPS off, there's a good chance they won't be able to track us."

"We're going to jump?" Annie asked, and Auggie nodded.

"Kyle, you OK to do this?" he said.

"Don't worry about me." Duarte was sitting up in back, looking generally more compos mentis. "I'll be fine."

"Good. Let me know when we're ready to go." Auggie waited and Annie shook her head, keeping an eye ahead for anywhere the car could run for a while without crashing into a tree.

"Auggie, how did you reprogram the car without even opening the dash?" she asked.

Auggie sighed. "My body is infused with thousands of microscopic robots that allow me to interface with computers using only the power of my mind," he said.

Annie turned to stare at him. "What?" she said.

"Yeah," said Auggie. "I didn't think you would buy that." He shook his head. "Ready to go?"

They were coming up to some kind of track – maybe a logging road – and the stretch right up ahead was pretty straight. Annie aimed the car and reached down, wedging the vodka bottle on the pedal. "OK," she said and opened the door. "Let's go."

She hit the ground shoulder-first, tucking her head and arms in and rolling. Something hard dug into her back, and then she was rolling to her feet and checking the area. Duarte was a few feet away, already moving. Auggie was behind her, on his feet but swaying a little. He was still bleeding, she noticed, but there wasn't time to worry about that now.

"Auggie," she called, and he turned and moved in the direction of her voice. She met him halfway.

"Annie," he said, "if they find the car before we find the mine, we're sunk. We're going to have to run."

She heard the request in his voice and nodded, taking his hand. "Then let's run," she said.

The entrance to the mine was grim and uninviting, half-blocked by rocks and ineffectively fenced off with rusting chicken wire. A few scraps of paper hung damply from the fence, the edges of faded Cyrillic letters still just visible. Annie shivered and threaded her way around the fence and past the fallen boulders, tugging Auggie behind her.

"Careful," she said. "The ground's pretty uneven."

"Smells like my college dorm the day after finals are done," Auggie said, picking his way through the rubble behind her.

"I don't think anyone's done any partying here for a while," Annie said.

"It's lucky I brought that tequila, then," Auggie said. "I haven't been to a decent mine party in years."

"Nice." Annie glanced back at him, noting the strained look on his face. His nose had stopped bleeding now, but his face was pale enough that the dried blood on his lips and chin looked almost black. "You really know how to show a girl a good time."

"Guys," Duarte called from up ahead. "Can we stop with the banter and get underground?"

Auggie grinned. "Yes, sir!" he called, saluting. "Can't fight the banter," he muttered under his breath.

The entrance led to a long passageway that sloped gently downwards, tall enough to stand upright, but not wide enough for two to walk abreast. The walls ran with moisture, and the floor was slimy under Annie's bare feet. She actually kinda thought she preferred abandoned factory to abandoned mine. Or she would've done, if it hadn't been for the whole poison gas-electromagnet-crazed killer thing, anyway.

"How deep do you think we need to go before the tracker's scrambled?" Duarte asked from up ahead.

"We should at least get out of the entranceway," Annie said. "If they figure out we've come to the mine, we'll be sitting ducks here." She stopped moving. "Um, Auggie, I'm not sure I'm really going to be much of a guide any more."

"Here." Auggie held something out to her, and she took it. A flashlight.

"What'd you bring this for?" she asked, flipping it on.

"I like to shine it in the eyes of the people I interrogate," Auggie said. Annie grinned, but then she thought a little harder about it and felt the grin fade. It had sounded like a joke, sure, but then again, Auggie had found out where she was being held somehow, and if there was one thing today had taught her – apart from that she should always take the opportunity to buy salted licorice when it was offered because who knew when you were going to get thrown in a truck and driven to the middle of nowhere – it was that there was a hell of a lot going on with Auggie that she didn't know about. Still, on the plus side, maybe this was the deep psychological insight she'd been looking for earlier. Shame it took hiding out from bad guys in a freezing, stinking mine to bring it, but no pain, no gain, right?

Right.

"OK, I think we're good," Duarte said. They'd been walking for about twenty minutes, and there was no light at all now, apart from the pale glow of the flashlight. Annie wasn't sure how far underground they were, but they'd been heading steadily downwards the whole time, and she was willing to bet the weight of rock over their heads was plenty enough to block out whatever signal the mysterious tracker might be sending out. More importantly, if they were stopping, that meant it was time for answers. Finally.

"OK, mister," she said, turning to Auggie and shining the flashlight in his face – not that it did much good, but it made her feel better – "you've got some explaining to do."

Auggie was leaning against the wall, shoulders sagging like half the bones had been removed from his body. He looked bad enough that she was almost tempted to let answers slide for now. Almost.

"OK, OK," he said, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Annie Walker, meet Jake Foley, former NSA agent and government lab rat, now deceased." He leaned toward her a little. "That'd be me."

"What-" Annie started, but Auggie wasn't finished. "Kyle Duarte," he said, "meet Auggie Anderson, current head of TechOps in the Domestic Protection Division of the CIA. Also me."

"I don't-" Duarte said, but Auggie waved a hand.

"Good, well, now the introductions are over," he said, sliding down the wall, "I hope no-one will object if I pass out."

Guys, I apologise for the lack of proper explanations in this chapter. They were supposed to be in here, but the escape ended up taking up a lot more verbiage than I thought it would. I'm getting there, I promise!

As usual, if you could avoid mentioning anything about unaired episodes in your comments, that would be awesome. Thank you!