Brazil

by J. Ferguson a.k.a. Timeless A-Peel

Disclaimer: I don't own The New Avengers, nor the characters of Mike Gambit, Purdey, and John Steed. Sadly. They're the property of The Avengers (Film and TV) Enterprises, and this story is for entertainment purposes only.

Timeline: Sixth in a series. Takes place in late February/early March, 1977, near the start of the second season, probably shortly after the events of Hostage and the year-later bits of Gnaws and The Last of the Cybernauts...? It is strongly recommended, but not essential, that you go back and read the previous stories in the arc, Aftermath, Dance With Me, The Anniversary, and Merry Christmas, Mr. Gambit.

Author's Note: Inspired by one throwaway exchange in Angels of Death, this is the piece I completed most recently. Meant to explain a few things that went on in the show's second season, it also sets up the rest of the arc in terms of the characters. All the other fics have been fairly plot-light, more or less character studies. I have fun doing character sketches. What can I say? But this one's got a bit more going on in the background, and it sets the tone for the next few stories, a bit darker than I've been posting thus far (nothing too terrible though). Also, this one's long. Really long. Really, really long. And I'm trying to edit it with what little spare time I have. So expect to see this one to be updated for months as opposed to weeks. I hope you enjoy it.

For more information about the series, please see my profile.

John Steed was puzzled. He'd arranged a rendezvous with Gambit that morning, but the younger agent had failed to show. After an uneventful quarter hour feigning interest in the paperwork that was heaped on his much-loathed desk in the equally-loathed office, Steed decided that Gambit's missed appointment was a good pretext for investigation, and he set out into the corridor to begin his search.

Surprisingly, he found Gambit fairly quickly, glaring at McKay's office door as though it had done him a personal insult, body tense like a coiled spring. Steed raised an eyebrow and made his way over to his colleague with the intention of gleaning some sort of explanation.

Mike was so focused on his task that he didn't notice the senior agent until he was right in front of him. He blinked in surprise, and straightened a little from where he had slid down the wall. "Steed," he greeted distractedly. "Sorry to miss our meeting. Something came up."

"Yes, I'd come to that conclusion all on my own," Steed replied, turning to fix his gaze on McKay's door along with Gambit. "Did McKay contact you?"

Gambit shook his head. "No. That's the problem. I don't know what's going on in there."

Steed arched an eyebrow. "I don't know if they told you this in training, but it's infinitely easier to listen in on a conversation if you're on the side of the wall with the door."

Gambit scowled, but not at Steed. "I'm not listening. I'm waiting."

Steed frowned. "I don't follow."

Gambit smiled ruefully. "I'm being mysterious, aren't I? It's Purdey—she's in there, and I'm not moving until she comes back out."

Steed felt alarm crash into his consciousness. "Is she in trouble?"

Gambit shook his head. "I don't know. She's not being disciplined, but there's some MI12 man. Says his name's Julian Grey. Wants to use her on an assignment. He's in there telling her about it now. McKay's there, too, but I get the feeling he doesn't have much say in what's going on."

Steed's brow crinkled in puzzlement. "MI12? I don't think we've crossed paths with them since the sixties."

"Well, something's changed, because he went to a lot of trouble to get Purdey special. Secretary rang her this morning asking for Bryde."

Steed's eyebrow climbed to heretofore unsurpassed heights. Gambit only nodded. "That's what I thought, and Purdey, too, apparently. She came by my flat this morning wondering if there'd been a trap laid out, and if we were still where we ought to be. They've circumvented you entirely."

"Yes," Steed agreed, eyeing the door with the same sort of suspicion he'd seen on Gambit's face a few moments earlier. "How long have they been in conference?"

"About ten minutes," Gambit informed with a glance at his watch.

"I see," Steed murmured. "Do you mind if I stay on?"

Gambit sighed, and ran a hand over a stiff neck. "I'd like it better if you did. You might get farther than me. Grey's not interested in giving me any answers. He wants me out of the picture as far as Purdey's concerned. He's obviously read my file and thinks we're too close."

Steed smirked, ever so slightly. "He must have skimmed it if he honestly believes leaving you outside is going to do much where Purdey's concerned."

Gambit managed a grin back. "Hope you're right. I can't live in this corridor forever."

"We can take shifts," Steed pointed out cheerily.

Gambit chuckled in spite of himself.

Meanwhile, Purdey found herself ushered into a chair positioned before McKay's desk. The man himself took his seat across from her, and lapsed into a sullen silence. Obviously Grey was calling the shots, and the Ministry boss was none too happy with the situation. Grey himself abstained from a seat, preferring instead to perch himself on the edge of McKay's desk so he was facing Purdey, and proceeded to rest his unnerving silvery gaze upon her. Purdey stared back defiantly with the intention of making him drag answers out of her, but the suspense was too much to take. She broke the silence.

"Well, now that I'm here," she began briskly, "perhaps you'd like to explain why you woke me up this morning?" She tilted her chin upward so she could literally look down her nose at him "It was you, wasn't it?"

Grey smiled. "My secretary," he confirmed. "But as I told you, Miss Bryde. I have a job for you."

"Purdey," she reminded automatically. "Just Purdey. What sort of job?"

"It's really terribly simple, Purdey," Grey told her, not addressing the issue of her moniker. "Childishly, in fact."

"Anyone could do it, then?" Purdey said brightly. "You, for example?"

Grey's smile lost a little of its brilliance, but he didn't rise to the jab. "I suppose," he allowed, "but a field agent would be preferable. I run the operations as a rule. I'm running one at the moment, overseas."

"What sort of operation?" Purdey wanted to know.

"That's classified, I'm afraid," Grey said airily. "But it doesn't matter where you're concerned. You see, there are certain documents of a sensitive nature. It's imperative that my team receives them without their being intercepted. I need an agent to fly over and deliver them personally."

Purdey scrunched up her face in disgust. "You want me to play courier?" she asked in disbelief. "Surely there must be someone in your own department who can do that?"

"Oh, yes. Several," Grey agreed. "But the subject of my team's investigation, he—how shall I put this? He's become familiar with our branch of operations. I can't be sure that any of our agents can enter the country undetected, and if he knows who to look for, the chance of the documents reaching their destination without incident is very slim indeed. However, the Ministry is a mostly domestic department, so much so that he does not concern himself with its operatives."

Purdey crossed her arms. "All right, I understand why you're going outside your own department. But that doesn't explain why you chose me."

Grey chuckled to himself. "I should think that was obvious. I don't want to entrust these documents to just anyone. I want one of the best, an agent who has the skills to ensure that the delivery will be made should something go wrong. And you, Purdey, are one of the Ministry's finest."

"How flattering," Purdey said with mock-sweetness. "But that still doesn't explain why you chose me. Gambit's just as qualified, and he's been with the department longer."

"Ah, but Gambit isn't a woman," Grey countered.

"Oh, you noticed it too?"

"I mean," Grey cut in, composure slipping the tiniest fraction, "that our person of interest will be much less likely to suspect a woman of being an agent. And as your contact, one Samantha Grieve, is also female, I thought complications could be minimized if a woman was sent in to deliver the documents. And for better or worse, Purdey, you must admit your sex is under-represented in this profession, but among those that have chosen to pursue it, you are undeniably the best there is."

Purdey tapped the arm of her chair thoughtfully. "I'm used to working in a team," she said after a moment. "You know that. But I heard what you said in the hall. Why are you against Gambit and Steed? If they came along, they'd be extra insurance."

Grey actually frowned this time. "Partners are an unnecessary distraction," he sniffed. "Particularly when one gets as with them chummy as you have. They'd be more likely to draw attention and jeopardize the assignment than do much to aid the cause. No, I think it's best if you go your own."

Purdey frowned in return. "I haven't accepted," she reminded.

"No," Grey agreed. "But Mr. McKay here is under orders to do everything in his power to aid me in my operation, and that includes ordering you to go on this assignment. It's imperative that this operation isn't jeopardized. But I'd prefer it if you decided to go of your own free will. Makes you a real member of my team, as it were."

"I'm already on a team," Purdey reminded acidly. "But I don't have time to argue. Where do you want me to go, and how long will it take?"

"You leave tomorrow," Grey revealed. "Fly out, spend the night, make your way out to my team's camp the next day. You'll have to spend the night there—the jungle isn't conducive to travel in the later hours. You'll return back to England the following day."

Purdey's eyes narrowed. "Jungle?" she repeated. "Where am I going?"

Grey's eyes locked with hers. "Brazil," he said simply, and Purdey felt the world fall away. Images—a cold day, a casket, a grave, wind in her hair and a crack in her heart—all called back with one word. Brazil. She didn't even want to think about the place, much less go there. The place her father had taken his last breath.

"Purdey." Grey's voice echoed through her thoughts. "Are you listening? Is there a problem?"

Purdey swallowed hard and tried to regain her composure. "No," she lied. "Nothing."

Grey looked unconvinced. "Purdey, if there's something that you think I should know, I'd appreciate it if you brought it to my attention. I don't have time, nor the patience, for extra complications."

"It's nothing," Purdey snapped.

Grey bolted to his feet. "Miss Bryde!"

"That's enough!" McKay's voice caught them both by surprise, but the older man was leaning across his desk, anger flashing in his eyes. "I was ordered to give you access to my agents, not to let you harass them," he told Grey in a tone that didn't invite retorts. "I'm sure if Purdey had something to say, she'd say it. But if you can't keep a lid on your temper, Mr. Grey, I suggest you go elsewhere to find people to do your dirty work."

The two men locked eyes, and Purdey could feel the tension crackling in the air. She could remember the days when Steed and Gambit had participated in this sort of wordless battle of wills, when Steed was the frustrated legend, Gambit had a loner's streak a mile wide, and she was as green as grass with hair that wouldn't do as it was told. Funny how it was only a few months past a year, now, and she couldn't fathom how any of those people could have ever existed. They certainly hadn't called in a very long time.

Grey was mumbling some sort of apology at her, but Purdey knew it was her duty to fill him in. "My father," she broke in, surprising everyone, including herself, with the softness of her voice. "He was shot as a spy in Brazil, going on eleven years now."

Grey sucked his teeth. "I see," he murmured. "I neglected to read the personal section of your file, or I wouldn't have chosen you. I suppose an emotional conflict such as that excuses you from duty."

Purdey shook her head. No, she wasn't going to let the past get in the way of her duty. She had to prove to Grey—to herself—that she could do this job the way her father would have, that she could fight this demon. "I'll go," she insisted.

"It is too late to find someone else," Grey agreed. "But if it's a problem—"

"It won't be," Purdey assured, reaching out for the briefing file she recognized on Grey's end of the desk. "I promise you."

Grey looked pleased with her Spartan courage. "Good," he said as he handed her her file. "You'll find all the details in there, along with your plane ticket. I look forward to seeing you in three days."

"At least one of us will, then," Purdey muttered. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some things to take care of before my little sojourn. I'd like to say it was a pleasure, Mr. Grey, but mother told me never to lie." With that she rose, turned on her heel, and strode out of the office without a backward glance.

Purdey was amused to discover that Gambit had been joined by Steed in her absence, standing guard like a pair of mismatched toy soldiers. She smiled in spite of herself.

"You're doing an admirable job of propping up the wall," she told them as they moved to join her in the middle of the corridor. "Steed, you're picking up Gambit's bad habits, lurking about. It'll get you in trouble."

Steed smiled to himself. "I make a point of learning from the experts," he told her, and she felt her own grin broaden. But Gambit was immune to their teasing, eyebrows drawn worriedly.

"What happened with Grey?" he wanted to know, and Purdey remembered the file in her hands.

"I've got an assignment," she revealed. "And I'm leaving tomorrow, so if you want the whole story, you'll have to come along and watch me pack."

Gambit wasn't laughing. "Then we'd better get moving. I want to know exactly what he's put you up to. This whole thing feels wrong." He gently grasped one of her elbows and started to steer her down the hall, away from Grey, who had come to linger in the doorway. If anyone had an attitude of 'pure and positive lurk,' it was him.

"It's bothersome," Purdey allowed as Gambit hustled her along, "but I don't see any signs of conspiracy."

"All the same." Steed was serious now, too. "I think you ought to tell us everything while it's still fresh." He had her other elbow, and between the pair of them Purdey found herself whisked off down the corridor before she could protest. She didn't notice Gambit's backward glance. Mike saw Grey, standing in the doorway to McKay's office, smile playing over his lips. The alarm bells in his head rose to a deafening klaxon as he picked up the pace. Anything to get Purdey away from those eyes.

Note: The chapters have been terribly short lately, so this one's a bit longer. And rest assured the action will pick up soon. I just need to lay the foundation...