Wall of Disclaimers is up on my profile.
In sight of Alex's Fairy Tales, I ended up forgetting about this.
Six months ago, London.
Yassen was alive. Alex couldn't believe it. He had so many questions but they would have to wait. All he could do was get them out of the situation. He really thanked the CIA now.
Alex squeezed the soap into the water and shook. If there was one thing he knew, it was that this would be enough to blind someone. Two years ago, he walked into a hotel room and it hit him square in the face. He spent the evening getting the remnants of soap from his eye. Alex pulled out a pen and made a hole in the lid. It wasn't a very strong soap but it wasn't water.
Alex ducked out and shot the man in the face. Soap and water hit him in the eye. Alex had bet the whole thing on the fact it was the guy from the hotel, who wasn't wearing glasses. It was.
"Let's go." Yassen was on his feet pulling Alex away. "My car is nearby." They vanished into the streets of London and a few seconds later a dark unmarked Jaguar pulled into the steady stream of London traffic.
Six months ago, London
Sitting in Yassen's car was a dream and a nightmare. It haunted Alex that this man had died for him but it was a horror that he was alive. The Russian didn't say a word the whole drive. Alex took in the passing street signs. They were heading toward the Soho area.
Of course Yassen would have a place in London, Alex berated himself. They did stop at a building that looked like a high rise apartment building. Yassen got out wordlessly and Alex followed. A short elevator ride later they were at the door of room 618. Floor six, room eighteen.
Yassen hesitated. Alex wondered what had possessed the man to rescue him, one of his more than twenty questions. Yassen silently inserted the key and opened the door.
"Welcome back." A familiar, rail-thin Irishman sat in the chair facing the door.
"Smithers?" Smithers nodded jovially.
"Jones said that she couldn't leave you out there to fend for yourself, so she asked me to get you some covert technology. Don't worry, there are no trackers. She was explicit about that." Smithers grandly gestured to the set up at the table.
"You called me," Yassen said looking straight at Smithers.
"Yes. You were practically impossible to track down Mr. Gregorovich. I had Jones delay the burn for three days to get a hold of you. She was under fire for that." Alex realized he had, despite the past, more than one friend in MI6.
"So what do you have, Father Christmas?" Alex couldn't resist the tease.
"I think you will see a few familiar gadgets." There was the gum pack and coins from Snake Head. An explosive ear stud made Alex glad he didn't let the hole close up. Two phones from Scorpia Rising were also present, except they were now the iPhone 4S. There was the pencil case from Crocodile Tears. (all can be seen in the novels mentioned. Available in hardcover and paperback. Found where books are sold.) Alex guessed all the gadgets were inside too.
The last was one that became known as the Archer Specialty.
It was a box of deluxe collector's edition playing cards. The metal case would unfold into a crossbow like launcher. The case would launch all 52 cards, which were metal reinforced, at the hapless victim. And, you could play a really fun game of poker.
Smithers beamed in pride. "Archer loved this. She said the CIA couldn't do better."
Yassen looked nonplussed by the whole thing. Alex wasn't surprised. The man was used to straight up weaponry not espionage. Smithers held out a film canister and a camera.
"The camera is digital and fires bullets if needed." He opened the film roll.
"Diplomatic immunity stickers, courtesy of Jones. She's quite torn over the whole thing. I have a meeting in a few hours and I have a few last minute changes to make to designs. I brought pizza, meat lovers, if you're hungry." Smithers was already past them and out the door.
"Thank you," Alex called. He heard a faint return of "good luck".
Five months ago, Russia.
Alex hefted the weight of the gun. So like Yassen to have a Sig Saur under his pillow.
"Care to explain this?" Yassen shrugged. It was a thoroughly American gesture that showed where he had been hiding out for the better part of the past two years.
"I learnt to be prepared." Alex gave him a disapproving chuckle.
"This business messes you up." They had hidden out in Yassen's mansion for the past month. Yes, yassen had managed, in his time to procure a mansion, a huge villa that sprawled over the Russian wilderness. The plethora of rooms was connected in a confusing labyrinth of halls. All lead, like veins, back to the center atrium, an astronomy tower. Best of all, the circular house had been designed by the great assassin himself. This was the type of setting that most BDSM fan fictions were made of.
A fax started beeping out of the list of people known to be hunting Alex down. The list got longer every day. Yassen, to his credit, had talked many out of it with a scratchy, untraceable phone call in the middle of the night.
Alex glanced at the top of the revised list and groaned.
Four months ago, Canada.
Those Mounties were seriously annoying. A chase across Niagara Falls was not part of his ideal vacation. And it all had to do with the stupid Canadian spy that botched up his job. Really, a bullet to the brain was too hard to come by. Yassen was probably off in some casino totally unaware of this. Or maybe if Alex-sense was kicking in, he would swoop in. Or he would feel the danger through the dragon lord bond, and, god, he was watching too much BBC.
Seriously, Alex didn't believe his eyes when one came out from the brush on a moose! A moose! Were they trying to support stereo types? They converged in a horse shoe formation.
Water or men? Water means going over the falls. The men meant either gang rape or death, possibly both since he wasn't MI6 anymore. He had to deal with a whole lot of sick people these past weeks. Some were sicker than others and others were sicker than a hung-over teen.
Alex was ready to jump into the water when the Mounties collapsed in a heap.
One by one they slipped off their mounts. One was barely clinging on in his haze. Alex's foot promptly took care of that. He eyed the pink darts sticking out of their backs.
He regretted making fun on those once. Alex tramped back through the woods and into the city. When Yassen saw him, he didn't remark on it. He just started packing.
On his part, Alex did very well when a knock came at the door and he opened it to find vin de glace and a playing card:
The Queen of Spades.
Two months ago, Cuba.
"Where should we go next?" Alex shaded his face watching swimsuit models prancing around in bikinis. Too flimsy and scanty to bother with patterns. He gazed at the toned man beside him. Yassen Gregorovich. In the past three months, they had gotten to know each other well.
Yassen was basking in the warm sun. His skin wasn't even tanned in the spring sun. "I think a tour of Asia would be nice."
Alex nodded letting himself get drawn into a kiss. Warm lips that tasted a little like beer ran across his throat. Filthy, but controlled a precise. Yassen finally released him, panting and craving more, minutes later.
"Want to get back to the room?"
Some would say too well.
Sorry about that. Sergei gets more time in the coming chapters. There will only be a "landing" chapter written in Syrai's POV. She's rather adamant about the whole thing.