Hey, gang! Happy Monday! I just posted the 54th and final chapter of my super-long PJO fanfic and I'm so ecstatic to have it done and completed and beautiful that to celebrate I decided to update this one today, too (even though the two stories have absolutely nothing to do with each other aside from the fact that I wrote them... oh, well, whatever). This chapter's a lot of fun, in my opinion, so it fits my excitement theme, hehe.

We're overdue for some action, right? I think so, anyway. But hey - let's fix that.

Enjoy!

Get off the ledge and drop the knife / Not a victim of the victim's life

The first thing Percy experienced when he woke was a flash of panic.

He couldn't remember anything in his immediate history—where he was, what he'd been doing before falling asleep, even what day and time it was. The last thing he did remember was having dinner with Annabeth at a café down the road from their building. Had he done anything after that? When had he gone to bed? Had Annabeth been with him?

No matter what had happened before, something now was definitely wrong. His vision was still a bit blurred from sleep, but he could tell that the room he was in wasn't the bedroom of their flat, and the bed he was lying on was completely unfamiliar. He shifted his arms and started to sit up, but stopped when a sharp pain dug into his stomach from seemingly nowhere. He grunted and dropped back onto his back, bringing a hand to his head as he shut his eyes against a minor wave of dizziness.

When he opened them again he could see much more clearly, and was alarmed to conclude that he was in a hospital room. As soon as that realization sunk in, his memory suddenly cleared as well, bringing back every second that led to that moment—and with them a staggering flood of anger.

Zeke.

Zeke had done this. Percy's uncle had tried to have him killed, just like his father had warned him fourteen months ago. It didn't matter that he'd left the organization—that he'd let Zeke win. The paranoid, power-hungry bastard just couldn't let sleeping dogs lie. He imagined a threat, and he had to get rid of it. Consequences or casualties be damned.

Percy took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. He was alive, which was good news. He also didn't appear to be hooked up to any conspicuous medical equipment save for an IV drip, which also had to be good news. His torso ached a bit and his limbs were tired, but other than that he felt relatively fine. He had no idea how much time had passed since the attack. The door to his room was closed and no one was in sight. Where was Annabeth? It wasn't as though he expected her to sit an ever-watching vigil at his bedside, but he did at least kind of want to know if she was alright. He didn't think she'd been hurt the night of the attack, and he was pretty sure he remembered the assassin leaving before he'd lost consciousness, but he couldn't be entirely sure.

Looking around, he saw a clipboard and a small pile of papers—probably test results—on the counter to his right. Beside them was an envelope that had his first name written on it in narrow, hastily-scribbled handwriting he recognized immediately.

With a jolt he leaned over and snatched the envelope, pulling himself into a sitting position and tearing it open. Tossing it aside, he unfolded the sheet of paper from inside and scanned the surface, eyes widening as they soaked in every word:

Percy,

First of all, I'm perfectly fine, so don't start worrying. Second of all, if you're reading this, it means you've woken up before I made it back. Again, don't worry—I do plan on coming back. But before I do, there's something Thalia and I have to take care of. She didn't want to tell you just in case you freaked out, but I figured you'd freak out more if you didn't know where we were, so here goes.

We're going after Zeus. Now, I know what you're going to say. He's dangerous. We don't know what we're getting into. But don't forget—I can handle myself. Remember the first time we fought? I beat you, didn't I? And as for what we're getting into, Thalia knows her father. She's got a good idea of where to find him, even though she won't tell me yet. It'll be quick, I promise. Get in, get done, get out. He has to pay for everything he's done to us, Percy. All I want anymore is a life with you where we don't have to watch our backs every second of every day. But as long as he's around, we can never have that. You have to understand—I want to do this. For us.

I'm asking you not to come after us, okay? I know that's what you're thinking, and I'm telling you it's too risky. You're the one he's after. When he finds out you're still alive, he'll try again—at least that's what Thalia thinks.

Stay in London. Rest up. Get better. I promise we'll be home soon.

I love you,

Annabeth

For a second Percy just stared blankly at the letter, not entirely sure he'd read it correctly. Once he'd re-read it twice and was forced to accept what it told him, he felt his face contort in disbelieving anger. What in the hell were they thinking? They were going after Zeke? Zeke? Seriously? And neither of them thought it a decent idea to wait until he'd woken up and discuss it with him first? Thalia may have known her father when they were kids, but he'd changed since her abdication. He was smart, powerful, ruthless, and had the entire organization at his disposal. The chances of Annabeth and Thalia's even being able to get to Zeke, let alone kill him, were lower than either of them obviously understood.

This was bad. Really bad. Percy twisted sideways and pulled back the sheet covering him, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His mind was racing. He didn't know what to do about this, but he had to do something. Annabeth and Thalia were in trouble. They didn't realize how difficult of a task they'd taken on. He'd have to find a way to contact them somehow. Would they have a phone on them? If they did, would they answer? Judging by Annabeth's letter, she fully expected him to want to stop them. But she didn't get how much she should have let him. Alright, she had a point about Zeke standing in the way of their happiness. And yeah, maybe he did need to taste a little retribution once in a while. But that didn't mean it had to happen immediately. What if this was the last they ever saw of him? What if he decided to let the failed assassination act as something of a warning—or better yet, what if he never found out it failed at all? There were way too many factors at work here to make such a dangerous decision so quickly.

Just then, the door was suddenly pushed open with a creaking sound that broke the silence Percy hadn't realized was so heavy. He looked up, reflexively crumpling Annabeth's note in his hand and hiding it from view, and the nurse standing in the doorway stopped short in surprise.

"Oh—you're awake," he said, one hand on the doorknob and another holding a clipboard. "I was just coming by to take your readings. How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Percy said a bit hoarsely, blinking a few times and trying to appear less frustrated than he felt. "I mean—better. A bit sore and tired, but… better."

"I wouldn't advise getting out of bed just yet," the nurse said with a frown as he strode into the room. "Is something wrong?"

"What? No, I just… My fiancée. I was just… wondering if she was here."

"Oh, Miss Chase. I'm sorry, she said she'd be leaving town for a few days—had a mate that needed her help. She didn't leave a mobile number. For now, though, if you'll lie back down I'll go ahead and check—"

All of a sudden, everything changed. The bright hospital lights shut down abruptly, prompting a dim, dark red emergency light near the room's ceiling to flicker on. Voices in the hallway screamed. Somewhere outside, an alarm was sounding—an alternating low- and high-pitched whirr.

"What the—?" the nurse stammered as he dropped his clipboard and spun toward the hallway. Meanwhile, every battle reflex Percy had was going haywire. He could tell immediately that this was no drill—something was seriously wrong. And there was no way in hell he was going to sit around and wait to find out what.

While the nurse was distracted, Percy yanked the IV from his arm and stood, glad when the only physical consequence was a very brief flash of dizziness that faded almost at once. The adrenaline was bringing strength back to his limbs and clearing the last dregs of haziness from his mind. He shot a glance at the door and noticed people running back and forth down the hall. He had to get out there and get some answers. He glanced down and clucked his tongue—who was going to take him seriously if he ran around in a hospital gown?

Thinking fast, Percy glanced at the nurse who'd stopped by, who was now standing near the door watching people pass with an alarmed expression. He looked to be in his late twenties, about an inch taller than Percy with a slightly smaller build. Perfect.

Not giving himself any more time to think, Percy strode up to the man and grabbed his shoulder. "Hey," he said as the nurse turned to face him, a mix of fear and confusion in his eyes. "Sorry about this, but I'm gonna need your clothes."

"What's that—?"

No time to finish that sentence as Percy clenched a fist and drove his elbow into the guy's face. He crumpled to the ground, knocked out cold. Percy dragged him just out of view of the door and pulled off his scrubs, T-shirt, and shoes, redressing himself in a matter of seconds. He even grabbed the guy's name badge and pinned it to his chest for good measure.

Satisfied, he made his way out into the hall, pulling the door shut behind him and glancing both ways. The hallway was lit by the same red emergency lights as his room. The alarm was louder out here, and he could see people dashing in and out of doors and talking hurriedly with one another, carting supplies this way and that. He turned left and started down the hall, thinking that was the way toward the main lobby.

"—for now, tell them it's just a drill," a female voice floated out from a room just ahead of him as he neared. "Tell the patients not to worry and to stay in their beds. Someone probably tripped the alarm by mistake, but until we know for sure we've got to keep everyone from panicking. Got it?"

A few voices replied in the affirmative and just as Percy reached the room in question a group of six or seven nurses and doctors hurried out through the door, splitting up and rushing off. As the last one emerged, Percy grabbed her arm and demanded in a false English accent, "What's going on? Nobody told us there was a drill scheduled for today."

"I don't know," the doctor replied, an exhausted look on her face. "All I was told was to try and keep everyone calm. I'm sure if there's anything wrong we'll find out soon enough. For now, just make your rounds quickly and tell your patients not to worry." With that, she pushed past Percy and ran down the hall. He narrowed his eyes in apprehension before heading off in the opposite direction.

Just when he rounded a corner and the lobby came into sight, there was a loud crash and the floor rumbled dangerously beneath his feet, causing him to stumble sideways against the wall. All around him, the hospital employees were staggering and falling, yelling and looking around for the source of the apparent earthquake. Up ahead a chorus of voices screamed, and when Percy looked he saw thin clouds of smoke beginning to waft down the hall. Dread chilling his blood, he stood up straight and headed toward the lobby, shoving through the people scrambling hurriedly in the other direction.

When the hallway opened up, he saw immediately what had happened. The front doors and main desk of the lobby had collapsed, part of the wall demolished. Fire was eating away at the charred and broken bits of the building. All around, people were shouting and climbing over one another to escape whatever explosion had gone off. A few people hadn't been so lucky, judging by the bodies lying motionlessly in and around the wreckage. Even the emergency lights in the lobby had gone out now, though the dying flames provided the same ominous shade of illumination.

What the heck was going on here? It may have been possible that this was some sort of freak accident, but Percy knew the chances of that were slim. If the explosion had originated in maintenance or electrical, sure. But in the main lobby, right by the front doors? No, something was happening, that much was certain. And he was going to find out what.

He'd barely forced his way into the lobby, however, when all of a sudden an arm quickly wrapped around his neck from behind. Reflexively he reached up and grabbed it with both hands, all his muscles tensing at once, but having caught him off guard the other person had the advantage. The grip yanked him backward, back into the hallway, and then sideways into the first room they came to. He was shoved roughly against the bed as the door slammed shut, and when he spun around his path was blocked by two men wearing doctors' shirts over black jackets and jeans.

Percy gritted his teeth and was about to demand what the heck they were doing when he realized he recognized one of them. "You…" he growled, eyes widening in understanding. "I know you. You work for my uncle."

"I'm sorry, Jackson," the familiar one said, and to Percy's slight surprise he sounded like he actually meant it. "Boss's orders." With impressive speed he pulled a 9-millimeter from his jacket and Percy barely had time to throw himself sideways before the gun was fired and the bullet hit the wall behind him. He rolled over the bed and dropped to his knees behind it as two more gunshots blared, one tearing into the mattress and one striking the IV stand beside the bed.

Percy cursed under his breath, wishing he had a gun—or any kind of weapon, really. He couldn't believe Zeke had found out what had happened already and had gone in for another attack, and this time against how many innocent people. Was there no end to the guy's ruthlessness?

The instant one of the men stepped around the foot of the bed, Percy lunged for him, grabbing him around the legs and pulling him to the ground. The man twisted and pointed his gun, and Percy snatched his wrist and shoved upward, causing him to fire into the ceiling. He pushed himself up on his knees and punched the guy hard in the jaw with his left hand. The man retaliated by driving a fist into Percy's already-injured stomach and he doubled over with a pained yell, allowing the man to free his other arm and shove Percy sideways onto his back. The guy leaned over him and aimed the gun at his head, and he shifted to the side just in time for the bullet to slice the floor instead of his skull. He pulled a leg up and kicked the man in the ribs with as much force as he could, prompting him to cry out hoarsely and drop to his side.

Another bullet swished past and struck the linoleum, and Percy jumped and sat up, scrambling sideways. He leapt to his feet as the other man charged forward, pistol held ready. Before he could shoot, Percy grabbed his extended arm with his right hand and pulled, spinning around to drive his left elbow into the man's face. He yelled thickly and his grip on his gun must have loosened, because when Percy tightened his hold on the guy's wrist the weapon dropped from his hand. He was quick to recover, though, and grabbed Percy's shoulder instead, pulling him around and driving a fist into his cheekbone. He staggered backward until the guy's hands latched onto the front of his shirt and the man drove forward, shoving Percy's back against the wall beside the door.

This is a lot harder than it should be, Percy thought in frustration. It may have been a little arrogant, but he was pretty sure that if he wasn't already injured and weak he'd have beaten these guys by now. As it was, though, this was what he was going to have to deal with. But that didn't mean he was going down easily.

In the dim, red light, Percy could see the second guy climbing slowly to his feet behind the one that still had him pinned to the wall. He didn't have a weapon, his body was slow and tired, and he was pretty darn sure he wouldn't be getting any help anytime soon. That meant he'd be forced to improvise—and fast.

Gritting his teeth, he reached up and around his captor's neck, snatching the back collar of his loose doctor's shirt and pulling it upward over his head. The man yelled "Hey!" and hunched forward, his grip slackening, and Percy shoved him backward. He stumbled and tripped onto the bed, rolling sideways and trying to free himself from his clothing. Immediately Percy charged at the other man, dodging as two bullets were fired in his direction. He rammed his shoulder into the man's chest, forcing him back against a stand of electronic medical equipment. The man stumbled to the ground, his arms catching on loose wires and yanking half the contents of the stand down on top of him. Percy grabbed the small rolling chair before the table next to the stand and swung it like a club, smashing into the equipment. He darted backward as sparks flew everywhere. The man on the ground, still tangled in cords and medical devices, twitched violently before falling still—whether dead or unconscious, Percy had no idea.

He spun around just in time to duck a high kick from the other guy, who in turn dodged a punch aimed at his face. His arms shot out and one hand wrapped around Percy's left arm as the other grabbed a fistful of the front of his shirt. He staggered forward and Percy felt his back hit the corner of the desk. He reflexively latched onto the guy's arms and hooked his leg around the back of the man's knee, disrupting his footing, before shoving forward and bowling them both to the ground.

The man's gun was just within their reach on the floor, and before the other guy could act Percy reached over and grabbed it. He dug his knee into the guy's chest and fired a bullet into his thigh, causing him to scream through tightly-gritted teeth. Then he brought it up and rammed the barrel under the man's chin, leaning over to glare at him.

"Tell Zeke from me," he said, his voice gravelly from his heavy breathing, "I'm done letting him win."

He used the gun to club the guy on the side of the head, effectively knocking him out, then climbed to his feet, stowing the weapon in the back waistband of his pants. His entire body was intensely sore—especially the stab wound in his abdomen—but he bit down on his tongue as a distraction and tried to ignore it. He had more important things to worry about. Like getting the heck out of there, for example.

Percy was sure to close the door tightly behind him as he left the room, just in case. Out in the hall, things were more chaotic than ever. Now that everyone knew the hospital was under attack, the doctors and nurses had begun evacuating the patients, and there were people everywhere. Percy stepped back into the lobby, but by now the place was crawling with policemen and paramedics. Sirens and flashing lights could be heard through the gaping hole in the front of the room. The people who were unhurt were being rounded up and escorted to the cop cars outside, possibly for questioning and debriefing.

Percy grimaced and took a step back. Being interrogated by law enforcement was the last thing he wanted—especially with his fiancée and cousin going after the man responsible for this whole thing. He had other things to do. There was no time for cooperation with the law.

Well, for that they would have to find him. Without another thought, he turned and dashed back into the east hallway, dodging around the people running this way and that, the employees leading the sick and wounded, the paramedics trying to help the injured. The alarm had been shut off, but the lights hadn't come back on and the whole place was still cast in that eerie, red glow. More than once he ran into people trying to go the other way, but hardly anyone seemed to notice.

When he turned a corner and reached a less crowded hallway, an odd sound reached his ears. It was a high, shrill beeping, and it sounded really close. With an alarmed frown, he leaned into the closest room, but it sounded no louder. He ran a few steps down the hall, but it was exactly the same. Straining his ears, he thought for a wild second that it was coming from somewhere right in front of him, just below his line of vision. He looked down and his heart skipped a beat when he saw a tiny red light blinking rapidly on the front of his shirt. He reached into the pocket over his chest and produced a small, silver disc with three flashing red rings.

His lungs seemed to turn to cement when he realized that he knew what it was. It was one of Beckendorf's inventions—a Cerberus mine. One of his uncle's men must have dropped it in his pocket without his realizing it. But it must have been improved since the last model he'd seen, because now there was a small screen on the front over the activation button that displayed changing, digital numbers—a countdown. It had less than thirty seconds until it would reach zero.

He tried pressing the button to deactivate the device, but all that happened was the countdown disappeared and the word 'PASSCODE' appeared in its place above a number touchpad.

No freakin' way… Percy thought in dread. How the heck was he supposed to guess the passcode for this thing?

He knew immediately that it was no use—in eighteen seconds, that thing was going off with a blast that could destroy the whole lower east wing of the hospital. There was no stopping it. People were going to die—probably a lot of people. And Zeke had made it happen.

That thought brought about only one other—Percy sure as hell was not going to be one of those people. Trying to swallow a staggering flash of guilt, he threw the mine into the first empty room he passed, slamming the door shut. "Get out of here!" he yelled to the people in the hallway as he ran away from the room. "Get back to the lobby! Now! Hurry!"

The thing about catastrophes was that nobody seemed to question random orders screamed at them in the middle of all the confusion. The people in the hall gasped and shouted and picked up speed, running back the way from which Percy had come. They wouldn't all make it, but if any of them were saved, then that'd be something at least.

As for himself, Percy darted into an empty room a ways down and across the hall from the one in which he'd deposited the mine. He kicked the door shut and pulled out the gun he'd stolen, firing the remaining bullets into the window against the back wall and shattering the glass. Then he vaulted over the bed and dove through the open window, rolling over the snow-dusted pavement outside just as a deafening explosion split the air. He threw his arms over his head and lied flat on his stomach as he felt a burning rush of heat and wind that blasted the breath from his lungs and singed his hair and clothes, all the while trying not to picture what was going on inside the building.

When things had seemed to settle, Percy finally lowered his arms and raised his head, coughing roughly at the thickness of the air. He realized that his ears were ringing loudly, blocking out just about any other sound. Cringing, he brought a hand to his left ear and was unsurprised when his fingers came away damp and red. With a groan, he pushed himself upright and sat back on his knees, glancing to his left at the partly-collapsed east wing of the hospital. Thankfully, the foundations had held together enough to keep the entire wing from imploding in on itself. The bottom three floors had been caught in the explosion, bringing the remaining floors down on top of them in an uneven stack. Flames slid up the building, biting at the dim, evening sky. Through the windows, Percy could see that all the emergency lighting in the east wing had failed—every room looked dark. If he could hear, he was sure the air would be filled with screams.

A hard, steely anger and determination soaked through Percy's body as he stood, rolling his shoulders and looking away from the hospital. His mind was made up. Annabeth had told him not to go after her, but this changed everything. He was going after her, alright. But he wasn't going to stop her from hunting Zeke.

He was going to help her.

Yessss so as you can see, Percy is certainly not going to be sitting on the sidelines in this story. Yes, the summary is a little misleading. But I like it that way. The action's pretty split, I promise.

So how 'bout a review? Shouldn't be too long until the next update. Depends on when I get chapter 7 finished because it's causing me a few problems. I'm off to go work more on it now, though.

Thanks, all! Later days!

-oMM