A/U: Violence and swearing again, enjoy :)

Chapter 20

My fingers stubbornly refused to type, the cold metal brushed against my hair as I tried to think clearly through the fog of pain. There was a reason I had deleted this program, and I was determined not to create it again for these psychos. I could sense Timothy's growing impatience as the pressure increased on the back my head. Strangely I wasn't that concerned with the gun aimed at me, my life had been threatened so many times now I was beginning to grow accustomed to the feeling.

"Don't try my patience." He growled at me, I remained still.

"What makes you think I would give Cicada this kind of power? You can break all the bones in my body and threaten to shoot me in the head, but I'm not coding anything for you." My voice came out steady and strong. I had assessed the danger this monitoring software could present to the world, and the least I could do for Andy was to die defending it.

"I don't have to break anything, I've got a hostage haven't I?" The barrel of the gun disappeared from my head, I frowned twisting round to face him. Timothy was standing in front of 47 the gun aimed squarely at his forehead. 47 did not look impressed by his threat. My heart lurched, no, not again.

"You may not have cared enough about your little friend earlier, but I'm sure you'll mind if I blow a hole in the man you betrayed him for." He had got me, it wasn't the repercussions of losing my agent I was afraid of now, it was the thought of losing him. 47 looked away from the gun pointed at him for a moment, and locked eyes with me. There was no trace of fear or panic, just a calm, determined expression.

"Don't do what he says Morgan. I've been in worse situations." His low, familiar voice saying my name was like a soothing balm to my nerves. But the thought of never hearing it again sent an arrow of pain through me. His eyes were boring into me, relaying a message that I was struggling to understand. He turned back to stare at Timothy, the other man shaking slightly under his gaze despite the gun in his hand.

"What do you really hope to gain here? Even with us dead and the program in your procession the ICA will know you're a threat. They'll hunt you all until there's nothing left." His voice was measured, like he was simply having an interesting discussion with Timothy, not negotiating with a member of a hidden organisation holding a gun to his head. The other man looked unsure for a second, 47's sudden ability to talk clearly throwing him off balance. The confidence from my agent spurred me on, as I swiveled with some difficulty in the chair and face Timothy.

"I thought you didn't resort to violence anyway, where are your lackeys now?" There was a definite strain to my voice, Timothy's head snapped round to glare at me.

"If I were you I'd be quiet, besides shooting someone is very different to torturing them. Less mess." His mouth twisted into a horrible smile as he pressed the barrel of the gun to 47's forehead. The assassin didn't flinch as it pushed his head back, keeping an icy stare on his Timothy's face. I turned back to the computer, my knee giving out a sharp stab of protest. I had to appear to be doing something; inactivity on my part might result in a messy end for 47. I was sure he was formulating a plan, that look early had given me the impression he wanted me to do something, I only wished I could have deciphered it quicker.

I booted up the computer and thought through my options. Timothy was with Cicada, which meant he probably had a good idea what coding looked like. However, he couldn't recode the program from Dubai, so he wasn't that savvy. This computer was also probably connected to Cicada in some form, meaning I could reveal who was behind them potentially. It was my best hope of getting some kind information from this car crash of mission, the only thing I hadn't figured out was how to get the intel out.

"You know, it's a shame I might have to kill you. You did me a favour dispatching that fucking arsehole Dominic Johnson." I stiffened at the mention of my old boss, but didn't slow in my careful examination of the computer. "I was all ready to do the deed myself, but the higher ups suggested we see the extent of the ICA's reach." He paused at this and I felt his eyes on the back of my head. "They weren't to know you'd bag yourself a formidable hacker in the process." The chain rattled as 47 shifted his position.

"She chose to work for us."

Timothy chuckled under his breath, "Yeah, she sure did. It didn't make sense before, but now I'm starting to understand why an ordinary girl would want to be involved in international assassination." I resisted the urge to see 47's reaction to his pointed remark. Was it that bleeding obvious how I felt?

I had completed my investigation of the computer Timothy had down here. There were a lot of encrypted files and little trace of any outside contact with Cicada, but I had managed to uncover a nondescript email address that had been sending heavily encoded messages to him. It was my best bet at a gateway in; bringing up a coding screen I began constructing my impromptu virus. I could only hope Timothy wasn't more switched on to hacking than I had been led to believe.

"Your plan won't work." The two men were still squaring off to each other. I could practically hear Timothy bristle at 47's dismissal of Cicada.

"I don't really think you're in a position to assume that."

"The ICA has been threatened before, by more powerful people than you. And no matter how many times we do this, they always end the same way." 47's slow, methodical way of speaking always made what he said sound more ominous.

"And what way is that then?"

"With me being assigned to kill them."

Timothy snorted, "Again, I'm not exactly feeling threatened with you in your current state." The chains moved again, I imagined 47 leaning towards Timothy ignoring the gun against his head.

"This isn't going to hold me for long."

I had almost finished my virus; it wasn't perfect by any means but not bad considering my time constraints and undesirable situation. I brought up Timothy's email and setup a new message to send to the anonymous address.

Judas has been dealt with. The program is completed below.

I attached a link disguised as the surveillance program, but concealing my Trojan virus within. I crossed my fingers and sent it. I could only hope it went to someone higher up in Cicada.

"This is the new age of technology 47. Almost everything has a computer chip in it now, we can control the world if we want." Timothy seemed to have launched into ultimate Bond villain mode, and was boasting in front of 47. I smirked and took this moment to examine my broken knee. It was dramatically swollen, and an alarming shade of purple and red. I touched it gingerly, sending a dagger of pain through the shattered joint. Even if 47 managed to escape and we made a break for it, I doubted whether I would be able to walk, let alone run anywhere. I rested my shaking hands on the desk as I continued to listen to Timothy's rant, praying my virus would kick in soon.

"The ICA has had its day, your little friend there was the only one who had a chance at matching our hacking abilities. The rest of you can't even comprehend how much you don't know about the online world."

I risked turning my head ever so slightly to see what was happening. Timothy was still holding the gun to 47's head, but he was gesturing wildly with the other hand as he talked. 47 wasn't moving a muscle, his body was as still and calm as a millpond, his eyes locked onto Timothy. He reminded me of a crocodile watching his prey, waiting for the right moment to strike.

The computer let out a ping making me jump, I whipped my head back to look at the screen, conscious that Timothy's attention was back on me. An alert flashed in front of me, the virus had worked someone had clicked the link.

"What is that?" I heard him start to come towards me when suddenly his phone let out an alert sound. My screen started to fill with files, I had done it, the virus was locating any data on the computer it had been sent to with the reference Cicada, and was sending it straight back to me.

"What the fuck?! You little bitch." My body tensed as I realised Timothy's phone was also connected to his email, so he was receiving the same information I was. Which meant my cover was blown. I twisted to see a livid expression on his face as he stared down at the device in his hand. Our time had run out, he wasn't going to let me get away with this and I couldn't just send the intel on to Diana without it potentially being intercepted. 47 came to the same conclusion as me, I saw his eyes flick to something on the other side of the room. I followed his gaze and saw my purse lying on a table. My USB was in there.

Timothy had looked up from the torrent of Cicada intel streaming into his inbox, and was giving me a deadly look. In desperation I looked around the room for anything to defend us with, I came up blank. He began to advance on me, I only had a second to register that 47 was actually looking at his agency standard pistol resting next to my purse before Timothy had grabbed me by the hair and yanked me off the chair. I bit down on my tongue, as the simultaneous pain of my knee banging violently on the floor and my hair being ripped from its roots made me want to scream at the top of my lungs. Attracting Timothy's thugs in here any quicker wasn't going to work in our favour.

He dragged me across the floor until I was directly between the computer and 47's gun. "What have you done?" He let go of my hair, dropping my face onto the hard concrete floor. I spat blood, I had all but bitten through my tongue. Timothy had rushed over to the computer to examine my handy work, I raised myself onto my elbows and assessed the distance to the gun. It was still too far to reach, and I knew I wouldn't be able to stand. I dug my nails into the hard surface and began to slowly drag myself towards the table. I could feel 47's eyes on me as I made steady progress, Timothy was tapping furiously away at the keyboard trying to reverse what I had done. He wasn't going to able to do much, the virus had taken hold now, it would find every scrap of info and keep on sending it until I told it to stop. Moments before I had been resigned to my fate, but now my will to survive had kicked in. The table inched its way closer to me; I was going to make it.

The gunshot made me freeze instantly. I heard a muted grunt of pain and I flipped over ignoring the protest from my leg. My heart started again when I saw 47 was still alive, but I watched in silent horror as a red stain began to bloom on his shirt by his shoulder. Timothy was staring at me, the gun still smoking in his hand. He towered over me and a strong sense of helplessness started to overcome me.

"Don't you dare move." His voice was icy and quiet. I kept glancing at 47, he looked a little pained, but not overly concerned with the injury he had just been given. He looked more like a man who had stubbed his toe rather than been shot in the shoulder. Satisfied he was okay for now I kept my eyes on Timothy. His mouth was twisted into an angry grimace as he spat at me, "How do you stop it?"

I said nothing, keeping as still as I could in my awkward position. His look darkened and he pointed the gun back at 47's head. "I know you can stop it, so tell me how or I finish the job." He took a step towards me, my brain was beginning to run out of ideas. I saw 47 shift slightly, and it was then I noticed for the first time that his feet weren't tied. The plan came to me like a bolt of lightning and I was grateful the assassin was watching me not Timothy. He saw my sudden burst of revelation, and with the smallest glance down at his feet then up to Timothy, I knew he had worked it out too.

I adopted my best attempt at a defeated expression, and said in a resigned voice, "You'll need to take me back to the computer." Timothy sneered at me; he had bought my terrible acting.

"Good girl, let's not try anything like that again." He took three steps towards me, putting him directly in front of the chained up 47. I watched as the assassin leant backwards against his chains, before giving a swift, powerful kick to Timothy's gut. He went sliding across the floor, his gun skittering away from his grasp.

I didn't hesitate, I twisted back onto my stomach and pulled myself as fast as I could towards the table. I could hear Timothy scrabbling around for his gun, his shoes scrapping on the floor as he regained his footing. I had reached the rough wood of the table, desperately I reached up and hauled myself to look over the edge of it. The sound of feet running towards me made my heart race, adrenaline flooding my senses. Every tiny sound and touch was amplified; the pain in my leg was non-existent. The shiny metal of 47's pistol winked at me and I stretched my arm out to grasp it.

Time seemed to slow; I pulled the gun towards me, the weight of it familiar in my hand. Timothy's footsteps were on top of me now, and I could sense he had reached me. Pushing off from the table edge I turned myself to face my assailant, he was above me his gun aimed at my head. Without thinking I disengaged the safety on the pistol I was holding and swung it round so it was lodged under the man's chin.

His eyes widened in shock; he must have expected me to get the USB not the gun. The shock subsided as he took in our stale mate, a nasty grin spreading across his face.

"You haven't got it in you handler. That's your agent's job, not yours." His confidence at my cowardice sent a bolt of anger and adrenaline straight to my muscles. A strained smile stretched my mouth, and without a word I squeezed the trigger gently.

His head snapped back, a plume of red mist flying out the back. His eyes rolled back showing the whites, then his body collapsed on top of mine. A deathly silence filled the basement, and I gasped as his full weight pinned me to the floor.

"Morgan." 47's voice anchored me, and I searched for him. He was looking at me sandwiched underneath Timothy's dead body, his eyes steady. I stared at him dumbfounded, he shook the chain holding his hands and my sluggish brain eventually switched on enough to understand what he wanted. I freed my arm from under the dead body, the gun still clasped in it tightly. Laying my head against the floor, I closed one eye and aimed it at the chain above his head. One wrong move now and I would kill the world's greatest assassin. I breathed as slowly as the weight on my chest would allow, and looked down the barrel of the gun.

IT kicked back as I fired the shot, the compressor giving it a muted pinging sound. The chain rang out as the bullet snapped the links keeping it together. 47 let his arms fall as his feet planted themselves firmly on the floor. Quickly he untangled himself from his bonds, rotating his shoulder slightly where he had been shot. I could hear the bodyguards running towards us, the commotion finally spurring them into action. 47 strode purposefully over and lifted Timothy off me as if he was nothing. Dumping him to one side he knelt down beside me, his eyes looking me up and down, assessing the damage.

"Not so superficial this time then?" I joked, the terror of the situation making me delirious. He looked into my eyes, the familiar blue of them calming my nerves a little. But there was a definite hint of concern there.

"Are you ok Morgan?" I knew what he was getting at; it wasn't the leg or the head injury he was worried about, I had just killed my first person. I stared in sudden horrific realisation at Timothy's body next to me. 47 didn't let me dwell for too long, he gently propped me upright in a sitting position against the table. Quietly he released the pistol from my hand and stood to face the two bodyguards, leaving me tucked safely behind his legs. The two men skidded to a halt at the scene before them, unsure what to do with the now free assassin.

So quick I struggled to see him do it, 47 shot the first one in the leg incapacitating him; before the other could react he shot him with deadly precision in the head. I wondered why he hadn't just shot them both dead on sight, as the first bodyguard tried to regain his footing to face 47. Recognition hit me as I noticed he was the guard that had broken my knee with a hammer. A cold sense of dredge spread through me as 47 put down the pistol and walked menacingly towards the man.

"Fucking twat." The guard spat angrily as he swung his fist at 47, the assassin dodged it with ease and sent a crippling blow to the man's stomach. Even with a gunshot wound to his shoulder, 47 still out matched the bodyguard ten fold. He hit him with another punch driving the man to the floor. I had never seen 47 fight anyone like this before, he usually went for the most efficient kill he could, but this was brutal.

He stood over the guard and I saw the terrifying look of anger on the assassin's face, he was like a man possessed. Slowly and deliberately he reached down and grasped the guard's leg firmly. The man struggled against him, trying to kick him off but it was like watching a baby antelope fight a lion. Without looking away from the guard's face he twisted the leg into an unnatural position with a deafening crack. The guard screamed in pain as 47 dropped his leg unceremoniously, his foot pointing in a different direction to where it should. I grimaced, but part of me reveled in the man's pain after what he had done to me.

47 wasn't finished with him yet, the guard had started trying to crawl away from him but he kept pace with him, taunting him with his easy pursuit of the man. After a few moments of watching the guard whimper pathetically, the predatory look still on his face, he reached down and dragged him back between his legs.

"No please don't, I'm sorry, please." The bodyguard blubbed desperately. 47 ignored him, instead placing one hand on his chin and the other firmly on his neck. The guard let out a strangled sob as he cut off his air supply. Leaning in close to his prey's face, 47 said in quiet, steady voice loaded with venom.

"It's her you need to say sorry to." With a quick movement, 47 pulled the guard's head round snapping his neck cleanly. The bodyguard went limp under him.

The assassin straightened up and turned to look at me, the possessed look in his eyes disappearing. The basement was silent again, no more guards approaching. My body relaxed, the pain in my knee washing over me once more. I strange sobbing sound filled the air, and there was a moment of confusion in my mind before I realised it was me. 47 slowly walked over to me, his hands raised. It took me a second to understand he was trying not to scare me, but he was the last person I was scared of right now.

"Can I lift you?" He asked in his monotone voice, I nodded eager to feel something other than the cold, concrete floor beneath me. He raised me off the ground, his grip warm and secure. Holding me close to his chest, he turned as if to leave the basement. I clutched his arm, careful not to touch the gunshot wound. He looked down at me, his face searching mine questioningly. I pointed towards my purse.

"The intel, I still need to get it." He raised an eyebrow at me, back to normal. He didn't question me, it was the reason we came after all. Gently he lowered me slightly so I could grab the purse containing the USB and the coin he had given me all those months ago. I held it tightly to me, and nodded towards the computer. He obeyed by walking across the room toward it, careful not to jostle me too much. It amazed me in those rare times, how such a deadly killing machine could be so gentle when he needed to be. Hands that only moments ago had broken bones unaided, were now cradling me like I was made of porcelain.

Again he held me away from him so I could reach the computer tower and inserted my USB into it. Quickly I downloaded all the information my virus had retrieved, and stopped it before reclaiming my memory stick, storing it carefully in my purse.

"Okay." I winced as the pain in my knee began to gain strength. 47 brought me back towards him and held me firmly in place as he strode from that awful basement. Leaving the three corpses staring blankly after us. There was silence throughout the mansion as he quietly made his way to the exit, every step no matter how careful he was made me nauseous with the pain. We were in the living area again, the place dark and eerie now everyone was gone. I gripped him tightly, he shot me a worried look as we made our way towards the front door.

Outside the Paris street was empty, except for a sleek black Audi parked on the curb. My vision began to blur as the pain consumed my whole body. A familiar figure got out of the car as we approached. I just had a chance to see Diana's concerned face before the pain overwhelmed me and I blacked out.