Author note- This is my first so be kind please. More soon
Disclaimer- I own the story and AU setting but NOT the character in any way. I am not in any way affiliated with Cabin Pressure
"Well that worked out surprisingly well-"
"Yes-"
"I mean, we disbanded the cell, we got the package and we caught a possible informant-"
"Yes, but, you see-"
"I'm actually really proud, job well done team."
"You're right about one thing."
"what, what do you mean?"
"We disbanded the cell…we had the package and we had an informant. Until…"
"Oh bloody hell."
"Well you better be getting him back then."
"Why me? Why not you?"
"This was your plan wasn't it?"
"No, no fine. It was your plan; of course it was your plan! It's always your plan."
"Right, right calm down. But, weren't you meant to be the young fit one here, captain."
"I-I fine. I'll get him," with that, Martin carefully raises the tranq gun he'd been cradling up till that time and aims it at a rapidly retreating man.
Douglas eyes the gun curiously, a small smile touching his lips.
"Are you sure about that Martin. You aren't quite a crack shot and tranquilisers are expensive."
"But…ugh." Douglas was right; the former captive was already half way down the darkened street and Carolyn had been rather specific about saving on animation.
The young spy sighs sufferingly, gives his smug colleague one last irritable look and sets off in a brisk run.
Even with his hands tied and a large envelope in his mouth, the prisoner was difficult to gain on. With his minimal training and rusty fitness, Martin found himself losing his breath at an embarrassing rate. Before he could gain half the distance between him and the prey, a sharp whistle screamed in the spy's ear.
"agg-agh, Arthur!"
"Sorry Skip, I just thought you should know that your prisoners getting away…with the package…very fast."
"Yes I know, you're a bit behind."
"Sorry… funny story actually…"
"Arthur, I don't care... Just bring the van around would you."
"But-"
"I know what she said Arthur; just bring the bloody van around. We'll worry about fuel latter."
"On it Skip…that's your code name by the way, you know because you said you're our captain and everything."
"Yes, Arthur just bring the van."
"On my way."
A grey van trundled through the darkened streets of Fitton. Douglas Richardson drove and hummed tunefully along with the white noise of the radio. Arthur Shappey, studied three tiny computer screens; he wasn't sure what to make of the data they presented, but he felt he should at least look like he did. At the very end of the van Martin Crieff stood awkwardly over another man.
"Ah, you will tell us everything, I think. Yes, once we get back to headquarters, you will be telling us everything." The captive remained in defiant silence, not that he mad choice in the matter; a tight gag made sure of that.
With an unsure huff, the spy captain eyed the neat brown papered package that sat on the van's rugged back seats. The parcel would have been much more mysterious and foreboding if it weren't that really did just look like your run of the mill parcel. However, Martin's fingers still itched to peel back the brown paper, but Carolyn had been very particular about not touching it under any circumstances. Besides, he had already had to fight to keep Douglas's big nose from it. In the end the older man simply raised his hands in mock surrender and said, "Fine, have it your way," with infuriating nonchalance. Despite his determination to follow orders, Martin did hope Carlyon will let them in on the secret in the end.
For now he would have to settle with another huff, this one a little more inpatient than the last.
"You imb-oh…you actually did it."
"Your faith in us never ceases to amaze me."
Ignoring her agents comment, Carlyon moves around the corner of her desk to the middle of room. There, her eyes finally fall on the bounded captive.
"Who's he?"
"This will soon be our best informant on the enemy at hand," Agent Crieff announced proudly. Carlyon seemed uncharacteristically surprised by this.
"An informant, what do we need that for?"
"Yes, I did fail to mention to you that we don't normally tend to go in for the old captive-interrogating-for-intelligence type thing," Douglas informed the now suitably confused captain.
"Well, now we have him," Arthur chirped up, "I'll go Google interrogation methods shall I?"
"Wait Arthur, I need to talk to you…alone," his mother cut in.
"Hang on, Carlyon, don't your favourite spies get a peek at the package we just rescued especially for you?"
"Let them know when you see them…"
"Oh come now-"
"Leave."
"Right you are, come along Martin; let's make our guest feel at home."
"Oh and Douglas," Carlyon stretches to the top of a cabinet to grab a stray lemon, "don't forget this." She tosses the yellow citrus to the undeterred spy who then promptly leaves.
Arthur watches cheerfully as his two colleagues disappear before turning back to his mother who was seated once more. She peered at the package with a touch of distaste for its very existence.
"Do you know what's in this Arthur?"
"Someone's birthday present?"
"Yes Arthur, I just sent two spies and…my son, to retrieve someone's birthday present."
"Really, that's not very-"
"No, Arthur, it is not a birthday present."
"Now I didn't think so, but-"
"Shh, now listen. Before you intercepted it, this parcel was on its way to admittedly the least notorious leader of the most insignificant criminal ring in the northern hemisphere."
"Right, got it," Arthur wasn't sure what she meant, but he knew it was important.
"It's from his girlfriend, who lives nearby."
"How do you know that?"
"We're a spy institute Arthur. Except for this particular job I used a detective, a consulting detective apparently. Whatever that means."
"So what is it then?"
Carolyn shifted in her seat; she wanted to see the parcels contents just as much as everyone else in the building, but the thought of it confirming her theory of its intended receiver's identity, made her sick to the stomach.
"Can-can I unwrap it?" Arthur asked eagerly.
"Ah, yes," Carolyn said with a distracted tone, "but be careful would you?"
Arthur grabs the package up hastily before taking his mother caution and pealing the paper back with forced care.
Two minutes later, to Carolyn's growing impatience, Arthur reached the centre of what turned out to be a package of multiple layers. From the inner folds, he revealed none other than five plane tickets and a small folded note.
"Oh, well that's not what I expected."
Carolyn, who had to agree with her son on that, gestured for the note.
After reading it several times she clears her throat and repeats it out loud; "'Hello Carolyn, it's about time you got a hold of one of these, I hope you find these tickets most useful'. Arthur, where are the tickets to."
"Kuala-Lumpur! Huh, what a brilliant name!" he declares, enthusiastically. "Are we going? Surely we have to go!"
"Arthur, you do remember me telling you that it was directed to the leader of a crime ring, don't you?"
"Yes but-"
"It could be a trap."
"But it has your name on it doesn't it, so it was for you then!"
"It could still be a trap. But, we'll go anyway."
"Yes, brilliant!"
"I guess you would want to know who the message was actually from now," her tone suggested that she didn't really guess that at all.
"Wasn't it the lady you asked a detective to watch?"
"No, the package came from her; the message itself was from the leader of the crime ring."
"And who is he then?"
Carolyn gives a tired sigh in build-up to the words she dreaded saying most.
"It's your father."