A/U: Bit more violence in this one guys, just a warning. Enjoy. :)

Chapter 19

His face was inches from mine, I resisted the urge to try and escape the chair I was sat in. This whole scenario was completely bizarre, and that's what made it so terrifying. I had absolutely no idea what was going to happen, and more to the point I had ended up in an all too familiar situation. True, I wasn't tied to the chair this time, but it still bared an uncomfortable resemblance to my last encounter with a member of Cicada.

Timothy straightened up, giving me space to breath. I couldn't read his face; to anyone observing this from the outside he looked friendly enough, smiling warmly at me. However, my uncanny ability to read people meant I saw something entirely different, a predator circling its prey. He leant casually against the desk, observing me for a moment.

"Do you know why we do these initiations Morgan?" The anonymity of my codename had always given me a sense of comfort when doing my job, I really didn't like hearing my real name in a situation like this. I didn't respond to his question, just stared blankly at him.

He sighed pushing off from the desk and moving back round to the other side. I felt a little better with the solid wood barrier between us. "We need to make sure potential candidates are on the same page as us." He began to look around in one of the draws in front of him. "Cicada 3301 is an elite group of the most intelligent, forward thinking in our society. We don't discriminate those from a more unfortunate background, that's why we do our anonymous tests, to find the best." He withdrew his hand from the drawer, I tensed, not sure what he had in his hand. It was a smart phone; I frowned in confusion as he placed it on the desk between us.

"This comes at a cost however, we can't be sure once a candidate has completed the test whether they will be truly loyal to our cause. That's where I come in." He flashed a charming smile at me; it didn't reach his eyes. His eyes narrowed at me as I sat there in silence, letting him talk.

"You're an odd one Morgan, I'll admit. You were more than capable when you nearly finished our test a few years ago, and now...well, you'd be an invaluable asset to the group. But you work for a very powerful, very old organisation that conflicts with our objectives." He looked down at his hands, examining them. "I've never done an initiation quite like this. I'm kind of looking forward to it." His eyes glinted with malice, the smile stretching his face making me genuinely terrified.

Every muscle in my body was tense, my fight or flight instincts beginning to kick in. I could feel in my gut something awful was about to happen, my only comfort was that Diana was watching. Timothy Falon slid the phone towards me and I stared at it nonplussed.

"It's fairly simple really, we give you a choice. You prove to us that the cause matters above all else. Now I have my doubts about you, not only did you fail to fully complete the test you did, proving you don't really have the spine for this, you also got one of our members killed when you refused to join." I locked eyes with him at this, my tongue loosening at the memory of what Greg had done.

"Your 'member' was threatening my friend. Forgive me if I didn't except the invite immediately whilst he was holding a gun to her head." Timothy smirked at my sudden outburst.

"So you do speak. That's a relief, this was going to be a lot harder with you refusing to talk." I glared at him, I didn't like where this was going, I needed to steer the conversation in the right direction.

"Look, I've told you I'll cooperate and help you infiltrate the ICA. Why do we need to do this?"

Timothy's face darkened, "Because Cicada hasn't got to where it is trusting people based on their words." He reached across the desk and took my hand suddenly. He gripped tightly as I tried to pull it away instinctively; firmly he placed the smart phone in my hand. "We trust people on their actions Morgan. No exceptions."

I looked down at the nondescript phone, it's black screen reflecting my uncertain face back at me. I was going to have to play along if I wanted to get any information out of him.

"What do I do?" My voice came out smaller than I intended it to. Tentatively I woke the phone up from sleep mode and examined the screen. It had a very sparse home page, all that was shown was the time and one app I didn't recognise. Timothy sat down in the chair opposite me, folding his arms across his chest.

"Open the app." My finger was shaking ever so slightly as I pressed on the app icon. A chat screen opened up, it was empty. A few seconds went by, then a symbol appeared showing someone was typing. Frowning I waited as the three dots danced up and down.

Hello? Who is this?

I looked up sharply at Timothy, "What is this? Who am I talking to?" He leant forward, smiling a cruel smile.

"You like helping people online Morgan. Using your skills to aid others, very noble, very…righteous." I gave him a venomous look; he ignored me and continued, clearly enjoying himself. "Well, this person is in need of a little assistance. I think you know him." I looked back down at the phone, completely perplexed.

Hello, my name is Peregrine what's yours?

I didn't want to use my real name more than I had to, I had no idea who this was or what they were to Cicada.

What kind of a name is Peregrine? My name is Andy Stuart, I don't know where I am but I can't move right now.

My stomach dropped. It was Andy, from the newspaper. I gave Timothy a withering stare. "Why have you got my friend? Wasn't threatening one enough?" He smiled sweetly at me, a faux innocent expression on his face.

"We're not threatening him Morgan. If you do what we ask he will walk away unharmed. If not…well, then yes I guess we are threatening him."

I had not expected this, a test yes, but not one with someone I cared about in danger. Resigned to what I had to do I quietly asked, "What do I have to do?"

Timothy clapped his hands together, rubbing them gleefully. "This one's a doozy, trust me. Right now your pal Andy is strapped to a metal chair in an undisclosed location. In about ten minutes a laptop will set off a charge also attached to his chair, sending 3,000 volts through him." My blood ran cold, once again I had inadvertently put my friend in danger. Timothy registered my shock, his expression turning to one of reassurance. "There's nothing to worry about Morgan, he will be fine. As long as you post the identity of your assigned agent at the ICA."

I looked down at the phone again, it suddenly felt like it weighed a ton in my hand. "Easy, if you really have decided to leave the ICA for us that is." He was watching me, his face deadly, all trace of the showman gone. I was backed into a corner, there was little I could do now except watch my friend die or betray the agency.

Hello, are you still there?

Andy's message jolted me into action. I quickly typed back.

Yes, what can you see around you?

I am on a chair, there's a phone in front of me, which I am talking to. I am in a warehouse I think, it's really dark here. There's a laptop to one side of me, I can see it's screen, it's counting down.

I was staring icily at Timothy as I spoke to Andy.

What's the time on it?

9:20. Now 9:17, now 9:14. It's counting down 9 minutes.

I didn't have long to think about my solution. I had come prepared with false information on the ICA, in case this kind of scenario presented itself. However, judging by the brutal setup of this test I had a feeling Cicada knew I was a spy. I had to try though.

"How do I release the information?" Timothy raised his eyebrows.

"You're meant to be a genius with computers, you use the phone of course. There's a USB adapter there." He gestured to a device sitting on the desk; I grabbed it and plugged it into the phone.

"Shall we make this a little more interesting?" I didn't really want anything else added to this already stressful situation, but I got the impression Timothy had asked a rhetorical question. He turned to a large flat screen television in the corner of the office and without me seeing him push any buttons, Andy appeared on it terrified and beaten, tied to a metal chair.

My heart stuttered painfully at the sight of his disheveled form. The camera was pointed directly at his face, and he was looking down the lens. I guess the phone was filming him, and it was voice recognition to type out the messages I was receiving. I could just about see the laptop he had mentioned casting a blue light over the horrific scene.

"There you go, you can see him now." Timothy's voice had a mocking edge to it that made me want to break his stupid face. "Better get uploading if you want him to stay safe." There was an evil glint in his eyes as he watched me. Fumbling slightly, I reached into my purse and withdrew the USB with the false intel on it. Preying I could get this past them, after all they had no idea who anyone looked like in the agency, apart from me of course, I downloaded the data onto the phone.

It's okay Andy, I'm going to get you out of this. Just stay calm.

My gaze flicked briefly to his face as I sent the message, I could see him breathing in and out slowly trying to act on my words. "Stay calm Peregrine." Diana's sudden bid for me to copy Andy startled me. I saw Timothy give me an odd look as I tried to style out my weird behavior. In my panic I had forgotten she was still watching. The data had transferred to the phone, and I looked up expectantly at Timothy. He rolled his eyes, nodding towards the phone.

"Send it via the app." I looked at the chat screen and saw an attach icon. Hesitantly I clicked on it, uploading my files and hitting send.

I saw the laptop next to Andy change colour; the files I had sent appeared on the screen. Turning to Timothy, I folded my arms.

"There, happy? Let him go." My confidence was a flimsy façade even I was managing to see through. He was looking down at a phone he had produced from his pocket. His brow creased as he scrolled through what I assumed were the files I had just delivered. He shook his head slowly, mock disappointment on his face.

"Oh Morgan, Morgan, Morgan." I uncrossed my arms slowly as my heart started to sink. "Did you really think we were that stupid?" His demeanor was menacing now as he came to stand beside me again. "The real identity of your agent please. It really isn't much to ask if you want to join us." His face darkened further, "Although I'm not convinced you do."

Sorry, the screen changed for a moment then but now it's back to the countdown. It's on 6:45 now.

I stared helplessly at Andy's message; Timothy reached across his desk and shoved a laptop towards me now. "You haven't got long Morgan, compromise a man you've only know for five minutes, or let your good friend of four years die a horrible death? Your choice." He shrugged nonchalantly, at his last remark.

My brain was a swirling mess, I had no idea what to do. I couldn't let Andy get fried on my account, but there was no way I could reveal 47's identity without massive repercussions.

"I'm sorry Perry." Diana's stress was showing as she used my nickname for the first time. It was also a signal to what the agency expected me to do. I couldn't say I was surprised as they would put the secrecy of their operatives above human life, but this was my friend not her's. I pulled up the ICA's intranet page on the laptop Timothy had given me, my fingers hovering over the keyboard as I contemplated logging in. An internal battle was raging inside me, I didn't want to see my friend die, but if I did as Cicada asked not only would the agency turn against me completely, I would never see 47 again.

The sudden strength of loss I felt at the very thought of not seeing him again knocked me back. If I had been struggling before with what I felt about him, and wondering why I had even agreed to this drastic change in my life, then I was left in no doubt now. In my own weird way I cared for him deeply. I knew he would never feel the same way back, but I couldn't ignore what my heart was telling me as I threatened to hand him over to this unknown, potentially dangerous group of people. I closed my eyes, gathering strength for what I was about to do. I was going to risk the mission, risk my life and kill my friend. But my heart had decided for me; to live without 47 wouldn't be living at all.

I closed the laptop slowly, and fixed Timothy with a cold, hard stare. The shock in his eyes told me that he hadn't been prepared for this outcome. "He will die Morgan." A lonely tear rolled down my cheek as I remained as still as possible. Timothy's expression turned to one of rage. "He will die!" I clenched my fists on top of the closed laptop and turned my attention to the screen. If I was going to be responsible for his death, then I was damn well going to watch it happen.

The countdown on the laptop beside him was just visible. 2:30 left. He was struggling against his bonds, the chair rocking from side to side. I could hear the phone next to me pinging as his cries for help came through. I didn't want to look at it. 1:20, the time ticked by slowly. My heart was thudding painfully in my chest now, I thought it was going to break free at any point. Timothy watched me, a look of unbridled anger focused on me.

"You will regret this." He spat at me, but my eyes were locked on the screen as the seconds counted down.

5…4…3…2…1

Andy convulsed suddenly, his back arching unnaturally. I could feel more tears rolling down my cheeks as my nails dug into the flesh of my palms. Smoke started to rise from his body, and I resisted the urge to scream at the top of my lungs and run from the room. I had done this, this was my doing. Eventually, after what seemed like an age, his body slumped forward, lifeless.

I'm so sorry Andy, I thought to myself. "Well done Peregrine." Diana's calm, encouragement didn't help utter disgust I felt for myself. I closed my eyes letting the tears fall freely now; no sound escaped my mouth though. I placed my head in my hands, the wounds from my fingernails starting to bead blood. I didn't care; there was no going back now.

Where was he? Where was 47? I didn't know what was going to happen now, but my body wouldn't move. I heard Timothy quietly walk around behind me. I stayed still, excepting whatever happened next. I had remained loyal to the agency and my agent; I had done my duty. I felt the air move by my head, but all I could picture was Andy's twitching body as he died.

I felt the hit on the back of my skull momentarily and then everything went black.

….

My head felt like a hammer had cracked it open, I could taste dust in my mouth as I slowly came round. As I tried to sit up I realised my hands were tied behind my back, and my legs were tucked up underneath me bound by the ankles. Taking in my surroundings I saw I was lying on my side on the floor of a basement. I could see dust covered wine barrels; I guessed this was Timothy Falon's wine cellar below his mansion.

I craned my neck, trying to see more than the limited view of the floor I currently had. There were lots of wine barrels, what looked like a computer setup to my right; I could see cables and the bottom of a tower, and a pair of well shod feet to my left. I jumped at the last one and started to struggle. This provoked the feet to move around so they were directly in front of me. A distant voice echoed in the otherwise silent basement.

"Please don't struggle Morgan. It will only waste your energy." Timothy sounded his normal, happy self again. I wondered how long I had been unconscious for, was the party over? I couldn't hear any distant music, suddenly I realised my left ear felt oddly empty. My earpiece, it was gone. The hopelessness pressed in on me, without Diana's presence, and no idea where 47 was, I had little chance of getting out of this alive.

My captor leant down and grasped my shoulders, I wanted to recoil from the unwelcome contact, but having my limbs tied up kind of limited my options. He moved me so I was sat upright facing him, he had squatted down to be level with me, his smile made me want to throw up.

"Are you going to cooperate now Morgan? We tried it the easy way, now am I going to have to get all tough love with you?" I glared at him, I had zero power in my position but I wasn't going to go down without a fight.

"That was the easy way? You just killed an innocent man." The memory of Andy's recent death brought a hard lump to my throat, and I had to choke it down for fear of breaking into unattractive sobs in front of this maniac. His eyes glinted with something deadly as he assessed my defiance.

"That was the easy way, yes. Do we need to make this worse?" I shook my head, fighting away the tears. Not here, not now.

"I'm not telling you who my agent is." I spat the words at him. He just smiled a slow smile at me.

"Oh, that won't be necessary now Morgan." He tightened his grip on me as he span me round on the floor to face away from him. My eyes widened in utter shock. "He delivered himself to us on your behalf."

47 was tied up, his hands lifted well above his head by a chain. He looked a little beaten, his tuxedo jacket gone, his white shirt ripped part way open, slightly stained with blood. I was alarmingly unsure whether it was his blood, or someone else's. He was looking at me, his eyes the same calm, cool blue they always were. Timothy moved round to stand between us, I watched as 47's eyes flicked to him, a deadly edge to them.

"Ahhhh, isn't this lovely? Together again." He grinned broadly, looking from me to 47, ignoring the assassin's stare. I didn't know what to do? How had they even captured him? My eyes held this question as I looked at 47. His expression remained impassive, but I could see a hint of relief as he looked at me. I wasn't sure how to place that strange look, as Timothy turned his attention back to me.

"So, are you going to play nice?" Every fiber of my being wanted to tear him limb from limb, but in my current state I could only glare at him.

"What do you want?" Timothy paused for moment, regarding me coldly. Suddenly he reached down and hauled me to my feet. I wobbled unsteadily due to my ankles being tied together; he gripped my shoulder painfully keeping me upright. Mercifully, my heels were no longer on my feet. I saw 47's face darken as he zeroed in on Timothy's fingers digging into my flesh.

"What I want Morgan is for you to give me back what you stole from Cicada." I frowned at him.

"And what would that be?" He rolled his eyes theatrically and sighed in exasperation.

"The surveillance program you deleted of course. For a computer genius you sure act dumb." His jovial attitude was putting me on edge, after what had happened upstairs I was quite aware of what these people were capable of. The unsettling image of 47 incapacitated was making me uneasy too.

"I can't do that." I tried to stare Timothy down; his mouth was set in a firm line.

"You can't? Or you won't? You saw the code Morgan, and we both know that means you can recreate it." We continued to stare unblinking at each other. After what he had put me through I wasn't going to give in easily. The last thing I wanted was for that awful program to be at Cicada's disposal.

"No." His lip curled in anger at my defiance, and with a forceful shove he pushed me back to the floor with a thud.

"Wrong answer." He clicked his fingers, looking down at me with an awful expression of rage. "I do abhor resorting to violence, and I really can't be seen to get my hands dirty, you understand?" A large, heavyset bodyguard walked in and stood next to Timothy. My heart began to pump with adrenaline as my body sensed danger. My gaze locked onto the large hammer the bodyguard was holding in one hand. I could see 47's eyes were also looking at the aggressive object, a murderous expression on his face.

Timothy gave the bodyguard a small nod, and he leant over to grasp my legs firmly. With a decisive pull he stretch them straight, and raised the hammer above his head. My forehead was beading cold sweat as I realised what was about to happen. Before I could scream or cry out, the bodyguard swung down with all his strength striking me on the knee. I heard the sickening crack before I felt the white hot pain rushing through my leg. I cried out with a loud sob, twisting away from the bodyguard's grasp. Tears streamed down my face as the pain consumed me.

Timothy squatted down beside me again, his voice low and menacing. "That was your first warning Morgan. I really don't want to give you another." I blinked back the tears blurring my vision and tried to focus on my situation. We needed a way out of here. My eyes found 47, and the pain in my leg dulled slightly as I saw the most terrifying expression on his face. All his attention was focused on the bodyguard as he straightened up and left the basement, swinging the weapon he had just used to disable my leg. 47's eyes never left the man once.

"Come on now, let's get you back up." My body had no fight in it now, I growled in pain as he lifted me into his arms. It was a strangely intimate position to be in with a man I hated and feared. With surprising gentleness he walked me over to the computer setup I had spotted when I woke up. The sound of a chain shaking violently signaled 47 trying to break free. I strained to look over Timothy's shoulder at the agent; he was watching us like a hawk, his eyes slightly desperate.

I turned back to the computer as Timothy lowered me into the chair set in front of it. My hands and feet were still bound and I looked expectantly at him, all traces of my bravado forgotten with the pulsating pain in my knee. He reached over me and with a knife he had suddenly produced, he cut the ties on my hands. I stretched my fingers, bringing life back to them. Staring blankly ahead at the computer screen, my body tensed only slightly, weary from the pain that had already been inflicted, as the unmistakable barrel of a gun pressed up against the base of my skull.

Timothy's voice held no argument, as he simply stated. "Start coding."