Disclaimer: Honey, ain't nothin' changed since last chapter.
Another Jamie chapter. We're having a lot of those, aren't we? Don't worry, I have a funny chapter coming next. Well, not really funny - funny but funny-in-a-dysfunctional-relationship-counselling-funny way. Did that make any sense to you? 'Cause I'm lost. The chapter title comes from the song 'You Give Me Fever' by Peggy Lee
Okay. Enough. On with the frickin' story!!
Jamie groaned softly to himself. He ached all over. His wrists burned, his head throbbed and his stomach churned. The light filtering in through the heavy, dark blue curtains was making his eyes ache too so he pulled the covers over his head.
He emitted another groan. The small movement had caused a series of painful explosions to erupt throughout him.
What the hell is wrong with me?
"Jamie, are you getting up today? It's almost noon" Yassen called calmly. Jamie groaned again and the Russian appeared in the door of his room.
"Jamie?" Yassen said gently. But not gently enough to hold back the powerful throbs in Jamie's eardrums. He pulled the blanket tighter around him, covering his entire body in it. He was so cold. Every little movement hurt him badly.
"G'ay" he mumbled hoarsely. Even that hurt his throat. He started coughing roughly and didn't stop for a full two minutes.
Yassen frowned. He was an expert at muffled/sleepy Jamie. It was practically the second language of the household. 'G'ay' translated roughly into 'Go away' and formally into 'Thank for your very polite enquiry Yassen but I am not feeling the best right now and would appreciate it if you could please leave me to rest in peace here'.
"Are you ok?" Yassen asked. Jamie barely heard him through the layers of blanket wrapped around him.
"'verything 'urts" Jamie mumbled.
Yassen peeled the blanket away and Jamie held his head tentatively. He looked up, dimly aware that Yassen was standing over him with a concerned look on his face.
"You look awful" Yassen said softly. Jamie curled into a ball and coughed again, the effort racking his whole frame with tremors. Everything ached and throbbed. Jamie shivered.
Yassen disappeared and came back a minute later. He tried to put the electric thermometer in Jamie's ear but the teenager rolled away. He swatted slowly at Yassen, the movement drawing a gasp from him. The pain was awful.
"N' get th' 'momometer 'way fr'm m'" Jamie mumbled loudly. Yassen ignored him and jammed the instrument in Jamie's ear, reading it a minute later.
"You're running a temperature" Yassen said calmly, as if he was simply commenting on the weather. Jamie rolled over slowly, groaning from the pain. Yassen jerked the blanket back over him.
"Forty degrees. You definitely have a fever" Yassen said. Jamie gasped. He was so cold! Why was his room so cold!?
"S' 'old" Jamie slurred, rolling back into a ball.
Yassen frowned. Either Jamie was saying 'She's old' or 'So cold'. He had a feeling it was the latter but with a fever he wasn't going to rule anything out.
"I think you have the flu Jamie" Yassen informed.
"Sh' th' fuck u'" Jamie said blearily. Yassen's lips twitched. That was charming. Just lovely. So he wasn't too sick to swear anyway.
"Hey Jamie, you up yet!?" Daniil called, appearing in the door of the room.
Jamie groaned and pulled the blanket further over his head.
"Leave him Daniil. He's sick" Yassen warned. Daniil rolled his eyes. The other Russian had been particularly frosty to him ever since Rhodes ratted them out. What ever happened to doctor patient confidentiality?
Daniil retreated back downstairs and Yassen turned back around just in time to see Jamie stumble to the en suite. Yassen heard the sounds of Jamie retching up the contents of his stomach and followed to assist him back to his bed.
Jamie was lying slumped against the toilet, groaning loudly. His hands were clutching his stomach. Yassen helped him back to his feet and propped him back into his bed. Jamie curled up again, groaning softly to himself.
"Im sor'y 'bou th' letter. I sh' ha' to'd you 'bout i'" Jamie mumbled. Yassen frowned. 'I'm sorry about the letter. I should have told you about it'. What letter was he talking about?
"I sh' ha' giv'n i' t' you" Jamie continued. Yassen frowned. 'I should have given it to you'. So Jamie had been hiding something from him. A letter. And it was probably in this room. Maybe if he asked, Jamie would tell him where it was.
"Where's the letter Jamie?" Yassen asked gently. Jamie scuffled around on his bed and pulled a crumpled piece of paper from under his pillow. He stretched out his hand and offered the paper to Yassen.
Yassen took it silently and folded it. He'd read it later when he had time. Right now he had to sort through the Medical box and find something, anything, that would help Jamie.
Yassen sat in the overstuffed armchair with a hand massaging his temples. His laptop was on his lap and the living room lights were on. Daniil was lying on the corner sofa, stretched out lazily and he was dozing quietly.
Yassen heard a thump from upstairs and smiled slightly to himself. Jamie was awake then.
Daniil sat up abruptly and looked at the ceiling above him. Jamie's room was directly above them so they could hear him frantically tearing around. They heard more thumps as Jamie scattered things to the floor. He was looking for something.
It had been a very long day. Yassen had been looking after Jamie and when the teenager had finally dropped off to sleep after hours of being sick Daniil had kindly informed Yassen that Matthew wanted to talk to them about security.
After a two hour talk with Matthew, Yassen was absolutely spent. Jamie was still moving around frantically upstairs. The noise stopped and Yassen heard Jamie start down the stairs loudly.
Yassen looked out the living room door which was opposite the bottom of the stairs. Jamie appeared there a minute later. His eyes were large and feverish, his hair sticking up erratically. He was pale and sick looking. He wore a loose blue t-shirt and navy pyjama bottoms but no socks. His clothes stuck to him with sweat.
Yassen got to his feet and raised an eyebrow.
"Jamie?" he said quietly.
Jamie's eyes snapped across. Slate met pale blue and Yassen had the strangest feeling that he could actually tell what Jamie was about to do.
The teen's gaze flickered to the door and back to Yassen's eyes.
"Jamie?" Yassen repeated.
Jamie bounded down the last two steps, landing lightly. Yassen padded out to him and was about to say something when Jamie sprang.
The teen barreled into the Russian, momentarily distracting him with flailing limbs. Yassen threw Jamie off him and Jamie hit the floor. Hard. Jamie pulled a knife out from the waistband of his trousers and swung at Yassen. The Russian stepped back carefully, avoiding the blade.
His eyes flashed. He was furious. He'd spent all day trying to look after Jamie and now the boy was attacking him. Yassen darted forward, feinted and made to snatch the knife from Jamie.
Jamie pulled back, alarmed. He was still running a fever and he looked delirious. The knife slipped from his grip and fell. The tip plunged silently into his thigh. Jamie gasped loudly and stared uncomprehendingly at the knife. He grasped the handle and pulled it from himself with a grunt.
Yassen just watched silently. Then he started to piece things together. The only plausible explanation for Jamie's behaviour was the letter. Jamie wanted it back. That's what he'd been looking for in his room.
Yassen slowly pulled the letter out of his back pocket. Quick as a flash, Jamie tried to grab it. He got a grip of one corner and ran. The letter ripped down the middle. Jamie continued running. Yassen was frozen for a minute. It wasn't often something stopped him dead in his tracks. But this had. What made the letter so important to Jamie?
Yassen pulled on his boots swiftly and then sprinted out the front door after Jamie. It wasn't hard to follow the footprints and bloodstains. It had snowed heavily all day and Jamie's footprints were sunken into the snow. He wasn't wearing any shoes. He'd freeze in this weather.
Yassen could hear Daniil following him. He was grateful for the back-up. It might take both of them to restrain Jamie without hurting him.
Yassen found the trail stopped in the garage. He could hear the dull drum of an engine speeding away from him. Without a word, he jumped into one of the sports cars. Daniil slid into the passenger seat and Yassen sped off, Daniil barely closing the door in time.
Yassen could read the scrap of the letter later. Right now Jamie was in danger. Real, stark danger.
Why is it so effing hot!? Why the hell am I smothered in blanket!?
Jamie groggily opened his eyes, his head pounding. His clothes were plastered to him with sweat. Slowly he rolled over, snatches of the day returning to him. Being cold...Daniil had come up...And he'd given Yassen the letter.
Nothing too embarrassing. Jamie ran through the list again and a gasp slipped from his mouth.
I gave Yassen the letter!? I decided to keep it secret from him! What in the name of God possessed me to give it to him!? Maybe I didn't. I'll check my room for it, just in case.
Jamie jumped out of bed and swayed on his feet for a minute. He nearly fell but decided to keep moving. If he stopped he'd fall. Quickly he raced around the room, checking the various places he'd hidden things before. Yassen usually found anything he hid anyway.
Nothing. It was definitely gone. In a moment of despair he checked under his pillow. It was double definitely gone. That meant he had given it to Yassen.
What the hell is wrong with me!? Why would I just give him the thing I'd been trying to keep secret all week!?
Jamie grabbed a knife and tucked it into the waistband of his sticky pyjamas. He would need it if he was to run away. He'd need protection. He was about to descend the stairs when, on an afterthought, he grabbed his phone. He stuffed it into the pocket of pyjama bottoms and then exited his room.
He started down the stairs sluggishly. The world swayed around him. He felt woozy. He stepped down onto the last few stairs and looked around. His vision tilted. Everything was blurry and distorted.
An echoey voice broke through to him. "Jamie?Jamie?Jamie?Jamie?Jamie?". Each word made his head pound dully. Jamie looked over and felt Yassen pale blue eyes scrutinizing him.
Jamie gave the door a stealthy glance then flicked his gaze back to Yassen.
"JAMIE?JAMIE?JAMIE?JAMIE?JAMIE?". Even though Yassen was speaking quietly it felt like a yell to Jamie. His ears pounded loudly. The pain blackened the edges of his vision.
He jumped down the last few stairs and landed carefully, aware of just how much pain he was causing himself.
Yassen walked out to the hall and Jamie launched himself. The movement caused him almost unbearable pain. Then, Yassen flung him back. He hit the floor hard, his breath knocked from him.
He pulled the knife out and waved it clumsily. He was now seeing two Yassens. The Yassens lunged at him and he dropped the knife. It fell in slow motion before slicing painfully into his leg. Jamie reached down and grabbed it. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling that if he pulled the knife out the cut would heal in a few minutes.
The Yassens pulled out the letter.
GRAB IT!His brain screamed dully at him. He did try. But all he succeeded in doing was ripping the page. Jamie ran. He sprinted labouredly out the door. He had no idea where he was going. He was still too warm. He sprinted blindly into the night.
Smells tore at his nostrils. The air seemed too heavy for him to inhale. He gulped a lungful of oxygen and stumbled clumsily. He banged into a medium sized concrete wall and it dimly struck him that he would find a car inside.
Car equals Escape. Escape equals good.
With that enlightening thought, Jamie pulled open the door of the first car he saw. It happened to be a black Murciélago LP640 Roadster. Hardly inconspicuous. The keys were actually in the exhaust. Jamie started the engine and pressed the pedal to the floor. The car leaped forward. Jamie just about found the lights in time to swerve. He managed to swerve dangerously, and avoided crashing into a wall.
The gates opened automatically and Jamie zoomed out. He was driving too fast. Things whirled past so quickly he felt like throwing up. Reality was distorted badly. He could hear a car behind him giving pursuit but it didn't stand a chance. He was in the fastest car Yassen kept.
He dimly changed the gears and drifted across the road. He took the first exit he came to and followed the road as best he could down into the city. He managed to scratch the car twice and nearly puncture a tire but when he stopped the car it was still fully functional.
He had only been in the city a handful of times, almost always to use the airport. But he'd made it his business to find out everything he could about it, which wasn't a lot. It was called Omsk and it was the seventh most populated city or town in Russia. He knew exactly where the airport was. He knew that it was one thousand seven hundred miles from Moscow. He knew Yassen had come through it as a teenager on a freight train. He knew it was in Siberia. He knew that the Irtysh River ran through the city. And that was it.
He also knew he was a five minute walk from the airport.
He got out of the car and stumbled up the street, leaving the keys in the ignition. A couple who were passing gave him strange looks. He was vaguely aware of the fact that his toes were numb. They were stinging. A temperature dial fixed to the side of a building told him it was minus nineteen degrees Celsius. His hair was plastered to his head, snow stinging his scalp.
Using the wall of the building he was passing for support, he managed to drag his feet all the way around the corner. The small airport, backed by it's airfield, greeted him. He smiled. He'd never been so happy to see a block of concrete waiting for him. It was like the airport had it's arm outstretched to welcome him. "Come on Jamie", it seemed to call in a sing song voice, "It's warm and toasty inside".
Jamie forced himself forward into the building and collapsed onto one of the few free, hard wooden benches. The airport usually only catered for large aircraft but Yassen had, with a little help from a couple of hundred thousand euros, convinced the city mayor to allow him to fly his private plane from the airfield.
Jamie rested for a few minutes and waited for the world to stop swimming around him. He couldn't fly on the private plane. He didn't have the money for a plane ticket. And he was attracting some very concerned looks from people passing by him. Then again, he was wearing no shoes or socks, he was in pyjamas and he looked like a runaway orphan.
He could feel a strange warmth seeping through him and he blinked slowly. His eyelids were drooping. Maybe he'd just rest for a minute or two and then he'd think of a plan. Yes, that was a good plan.
Drip, Drop, Drip, Drop. Water. Drip, Drop, Drip, Drop. It was red. Red and blue. Blue and red. There was a guitar playing a cat. A guitar playing a cat? That didn't sound quite right. And there was pain. Agonising, tear drawing pain. Crippling, knee buckling pain. His back bone was going to snap. But hope. There was always hope. Large blue eyes. Frowning at him. "JAMIE?JAMIE?JAMIE?JAMIE?JAMIE?".
The sound of his phone ringing woke Jamie. Blearily, he pulled it out of his pocket. He answered it, just to make the ringing stop. His head was pounding, he was itchy and he felt like he was melting.
With a huge effort and a huge sting of pain, he pulled the phone up to his ear.
"Jamie, where are you!? Yassen's really, really mad. Seriously Jamie. What did you think you were doing, running off like that!? Daniil's out of his brain worrying! Max and Dad are out looking for you. Emma Jane is crying her eyes out. And meanwhile, I'm stuck here trying to hold things together! I've been driving around Osk or Mosk or whatever the hell this god forsaken city is called all day! Now, cut the emo bull crap and tell me exactly where you are!?"
Jamie tried to raise an eyebrow but he couldn't manage it. He was so warm. But Ella was on the phone.
Maybe if I tell her where I am, she'll get me back to England...
"Th' a'rport" Jamie slurred.
He listened closely, ears straining for Ella's reply.
"The airport? Right, I'm on my way there. Just stay right where you are you stupid dog-brained lady boy" she said, hanging up.
Jamie lay back on the bench and stared up at the roof. He was so tired. And so warm. And so sore. Every single inch of him ached and strained. His head was pounding so hard he could barely think straight. But he could think. However fractured and warped his thoughts currently were. Ella was on her way. That meant he would be safe. All that mattered now was not passing out before she arrived.
He set himself that goal. But it was getting harder to breathe. Maybe he was just imagining it. But air was getting harder and harder to inhale. He'd just close his eyes for a few minutes. He'd be fine. He had a goal.
He failed miserably trying to meet that goal. But when Ella arrived, she didn't find a filthy, feverish teenager passed out on a bench. She found nothing. Because Jamie had vanished into thin air.
"He's waking up".
"No he's not. Look at him. He's as high as a kite. We've pumped enough morphine into him to take out a rhino. He's still out cold and in a few minutes he'll be dead".
"No he's not. Look at him. He's waking up".
"Mrs. Rothman, with all due respect, no-one could wake up after that. Now, if you'd please leave so I can arrange a burial for him?".
"Be quiet you fool! Look at him! Does he look dead to you?".
"Mrs. Rothman, he had Pulmonary Anthrax. Mortality rate for that is nearly one hundred percent. He'd already suffered a very severe respiratory collapse when you brought him in. He'll be dead within minutes".
"Nearly one hundred percent. That's what you said. Look at him. He's blinking. He's breathing. He can hear us".
"What? Mrs. Rothman, he's not breathing. He's dead".
"You imbecile. Actually look at him. He's looking at you! He's alive. Now, quickly, check his pulse. I do not want him to relapse".
"Yes. Of course Mrs. Rothman. Right away Mrs. Rothman".
"And you my brave, brave boy. Well, you can just relax. Because everything will be just fine".
Two Days Later
The twelve year old girl sniffled loudly. She buried her face in the rather large pink teddy bear she was cuddling. Misery was etched on her face. The room she was in was full of toys and board games, all strewn on the floor carelessly. The girl had a very bad headache and she felt the tiniest bit too warm but that was not what was distressing her.
She heard the front door of her home open and she jumped from her bed, racing out of the room and down the staircase into the hall. She clutched the pink teddy bear and watched hopefully as the rest of her family trooped in. They'd flown to Russia, leaving her with her nanny, Ms. Finch after Jamie disappeared.
Her elder sister, Ella, smiled sadly at her.
"He was gone when we got there Em" she informed the girl.
Emma Jane Port started crying in earnest. Ella rolled her eyes. She had no idea why Emma Jane was so hysterical. If Jamie wanted to be an ass and run away that was his call. Yassen and Daniil would find him anyway.
Max walked past Ella and lifted up his younger sister. He hugged her warmly.
"Em, he'll be fine. He'll go sulk for a few days and then he'll call Yassen" Max said. He cuddled his younger sister and carried her into the living room where he sat down on the sofa, seating her on his lap.
Matthew Port watched his three children. They were sitting together on the sofa and, for once, they were not arguing pettily about something. There was Max. His boy. He was seventeen and he looked just like his mother. He had her curly, black hair. And her darker complexion. He had strong features and he was built well. More muscled than Matthew had been at that age.
Ella was leaning against her brother's shoulder. She was beautiful. And she was getting more beautiful every single day that passed. She had Matthew's forhead. And she had her grandma's hair. Brown. But with her mother's curls. Max and Ella were twins but they couldn't have been more different. Max was calming and thoughtful. He was deeper, more dreamy than Ella. Ella was fiery and stubborn and when she didn't get her own way there was hell to pay.
Emma Jane was sleeping with tears on her cheeks. She was so adorable. So innocent for her age. She knew nothing of her father's business. She hero worshipped Jamie. He was like a brother and a hero and a friend rolled in one. Every second sentence she said began with "Jamie did/said/is/will blah blah blah".
I like Jamie, don't get me wrong. But...
Matthew wasn't sure what it was about the boy that made him think Jamie knew something he didn't. Or the way he saw non existent romance between Ella and Jamie. He was rather paranoid when it came to that boy. He insisted on Yassen watching him closely. He had a feeling Jamie would be his doom. Or maybe he would be Jamie's doom. It was hard to tell.
His mobile phone rang loudly. He picked up out of habit and pressed his phone to his ear.
"Hello Matthew" a female voice purred down the line. Matthew frowned.
"Julia" he replied curtly.
If there was one woman he could not stand it was Julia bloody Rothman.
"Just thought I'd call to give you my condolences".
"Condolences? And what, pray tell, have I done to deserve this act of charity?" Matthew asked sarcastically. He was tempted to hang up.
"For your death and the deaths of your children. A tragic loss".
Matthew frowned. What was that lunatic ranting about now?
"Because, Matthew, unknown to you you've been contaminated with Anthrax. Pulmonary Anthrax. And you'll die soon. But not before your children. Ella will die first. Then Max. And then little Emma Jane. And it will be a slow, stretched out death. You should just put your children out of their misery".
"You're bluffing" Matthew said. Deep down he had a sense of dread.
"Oh no, no I'm not. Jamie Rider caught it from Ella. Because he had sexual intercourse with your darling girl. But we got to him in time. He's still got an awful fever. And just last night he signed a contract. With Scorpia. He sold himself to us. And do you know why? Because he begged me, he pleaded with me, to save Ella. So I'm giving you a heads up. It makes me smile when I think of it. Young love and all that".
Matthew's stomach twisted into a tight knot.
"Now you have a choice. Free Jamie by making it impossible for me to stick to my guarantee of Ella's safety. Of course, Ella would have to die. Or you can save your children before you die and in doing so hand Jamie over to me. And you will die. I made sure to give you a more lethal dose. You have a few days left. Ella has two. For a man with your connections, it shouldn't be a problem getting her the help she needs".
"Rothman you little-"
"Au revoir Matthew. Enjoy".
The line went dead. Matthew got to his feet, ready to wake his children. He had work to do. There would be no sleep for any of them tonight. Sleep would come later. Tonight he would have to take Rothman's word for it and seek help.
Okay. It took me a while to finally settle on the disease ridden chappie. I know this story has a weird timeline and it's not really cannon but give me a few more chapters and you'll see what's happened with Alex and MI6 and everything.
Phew. Another chapter. Another inch down the pipeline. Now, I have a weird question for you. If I wrote a story about Yassen being baby-sat as a child would it just be stupid?
And, also, I'd just like to mention my sister. She's DreamsInBlackAndWhite. She's really great at writing. She's obsessed with everything Alex Rider. She stole all my copies of the books. But I love her to bits. This chapter is dedicated to her because she is battling her own medical demons at the mo. You should read her stuff. It's great.
I'd also like to say thank you to all the people who offered to beta for me. You're all very kind. And all the people who would beta but were too busy. You guys rock anyway because you reviewed. Anyway, my sister has offered to beta so I'm going to take her up on that. Family allegiance and all that.
Thank you all. Please review. I mean seriously. Really. Please.