Note: *deep breath* Alrighty guys, my deadline for finishing this story is coming up REAL fast. School starts on the 22nd and I cannot be writing my vital last chapters with homework waiting for me. That gives me a week and a half to somehow make the last 3 or 4 chapters appear. If you haven't guessed, this means getting stressed out before school even starts. Agh. So yeah, this chapter was a bit hurried. The first half is alright but towards the end it gets a little unsatisfactory (for me anyway) because I was practically scraping the bottom of the barrel trying to get this up.

But I'd like to thank you all for the lovely reviews, I really do like hearing your opinions!

Also! If you haven't seen it posted already, EtchedInDiamond wrote an amazing oneshot based on this fic; it's called "A Day in Acapulco." It's basically about the day that Joshua Daniels died and it's pretty fantastic. Some of the details from that particular fic are included in the next few chapters so credit goes to EtchedInDiamond for that because it also helped clear some holes I had in my plot. yay(:

Most people will get confused with the chapter title but I'll clarify it: it's based off of Julius Caesar's last words and is intended to represent the betrayal of a close friend. I'd say it fits well (;

Chapter Fourteen – Et Tu, Brute? (You too, Brutus?)

-Addie-

I had never been so terrified in my whole life.

Of course, there was the exception of a few things like the house fire and Kylie's seizure… but this was entirely different. And that was because my mind was scrabbling for purchase as it darted between the millions of things I was afraid of and afraid for. I could feel my parents reaching for me somewhere far away but I was also aware of Alex in the middle of all this peril. My heart thudded painfully in my chest for fear of someone discovering that I was very much alive, not to mention that they would probably shoot me on the spot or take me away.

I was lying there with my sore cheek pressed against the ground, trying to breathe as inconspicuously as possible. The two "bullets" had jabbed me painfully and if it weren't for the surprise they took me by, I wouldn't have managed to drop dead successfully and convincingly. It had taken all my nerve and self-control not to jump up and join in the melee when it all broke out, the shouts and screams of my mother threatening to make me wince. I had to trust that she and Dad were safe… now it was Alex and David I was worried about. And everyone else who was fighting for me.

I'd been told to either wait until I was sure that there was no one else around or count to one hundred; otherwise someone, if the opportunity presented itself, was supposed to come grab me and take me to one of the dump trucks while the others tried to secure the target, aka Mather. But once the chaos had turned towards the compound, I couldn't ignore the feeling that someone might've been watching me, no matter how quiet and deserted it seemed.

Trying to ease the worry eating away at my stomach, I decided to follow orders and counted to one hundred… then again in Spanish and then in French. It should've felt like a long time but it almost made no difference in my emotions. I was fighting between staying down longer just in case and getting up to do things myself.

Coincidentally, my ears picked up soft footsteps somewhere behind my head. I froze and then tried to ease up a little, not wanting to appear too stiff. Whoever it was came to a stop in front of my face and I fought down the urge to open my eyes. A few seconds passed by slowly and then there was a poking and prodding on my back. I realized that the prowler was inspecting my fake wounds, which—considering how elite the sniper was—had theoretically entered through my spine and heart. A hand grabbed my shoulder, making my heart stutter, and rolled me over until I was on my back. Impulsively, I held my breath so my chest wasn't moving and thanked my lucky stars that the few years of diving before swimming had enabled me to hold my breath for at least half a minute (which, in water, is a long time.)

It did no good.

The touch of cold steel was unmistakable on my forehead, sending icy shocks of fear down to my toes. If I hadn't been holding my breath, it would've caught in surprise. Instead, I let myself breathe again as a voice from somewhere above me said, "Now, you listen here, little missy. As much as I wouldn't like to mess up your impressive little plan, I have orders to follow. So why don't you do me a favor and open those pretty eyes."

I hesitated for a moment, deliberating. Then I opened my eyes and almost frowned, wondering if I'd really gone insane. There was no one standing above me, just pitch black darkness. Then my eyes adjusted and I could faintly make out the outline of the man with wild curly hair, confirming that the gun held to my face was real.

I could hear the grin in his voice. "There we go. Now get up."

As I slowly pushed myself into a sitting position, he suddenly snatched me by my arm and yanked me onto my feet. The move made me gasp in surprise and I jerked away, balling a hand into a fist. My leg protested in response to the beating my body was taking. He only snickered and waved the gun, which was still held inches from my head. "Nuh-uh-uh!" he sang quietly but tauntingly. "Hitting me wouldn't be a good idea." He put a hand on my shoulder and spun me around to face the dark compound where the sounds of fighting were faint but heard. "Just remember who's in there. You don't want your bad actions reflecting upon your little spy boyfriend, do you?"

I swallowed and gritted my teeth. It was taking all of my strength to not whirl around and punch this insolent ass in the jaw but better judgment told me that he would take me where I needed to go… wherever that was. I only hoped that David, Ben, and Alex and the rest of the rescue team were safe. I would ensure that if it meant dealing with this man.

With him ushering me forward and barking instructions, I entered the compound in between two of the small buildings.

If I didn't find Alex, or if I did and something horrible had happened, what was I going to do? Not for the first time, I was moving forward without an actual plan. Instead of trying to trust that the given orders were the best, I was going against them… because I just had to. Mom and Dad were safe—I needed to believe that. This whole thing might've been centered on me but I felt obligated to do something other than keep myself safe. I wasn't that kind of person, as Alex had described, the type that would obediently sit around and wait when I had to be capable of more than that.

I couldn't deny that I didn't want to lose him. Even if he had lied to me, even if I'd been so angry about it at first, that didn't make my feelings about him waver. In the back of my mind I knew why he had to do it and if I'd had been in his shoes and developed something more than friendly attraction towards him, I was sure I would have done the same thing. But then that made me wonder: had I been wrong about everything being a lie? I'd seen the way he looked at me after getting out of the dump trucks. Could I really believe that some of this was real?

All of this was being processed and analyzed in my mind, distracting me from the true matter at hand: I was alive and somehow, Mather's men had found out.

Or maybe it was the fake wounds. Had this man come to make sure I was dead and seen through the blood and gashes? It was either that or Mather knew that the CIA wouldn't really kill me. Whatever the reason, it made me angry to know that if I'd just stopped counting to one hundred in Spanish, I would've had plenty of time to get up and not be captured. Maybe I'd have run into this guy and managed to knock him out.

"Hey! I said to turn here!"

His hushed shouts caught my attention. I blinked, trying to make sense of where we were. We'd made our way further into the compound and entered one of the buildings, taking the stairs to a level below the ground. The basement? We couldn't be in the tunnels yet; the hallway down here still had concrete walls with old, square flickering lights in the ceiling. The room he was gesturing towards was completely empty and windowless. Something thick and pungent was in the air, making me itch to cover my nose.

"Is this how you plan on killing me?" I asked. "Condemning me to die in suffocation?" I could almost see Alex grinning; his wittiness had started rubbing off on me.

"Just get in," he ordered roughly. Well… perhaps he thought only his own jokes were funny.

Before I could go in, a movement beyond his shoulder caught my eye. I was going to look away when he turned around, spotting the SEAL who'd been approaching him silently.

"No!" I shouted and threw myself at the man as he brought his gun up. Two shots rang through the hall and I collided with him, bringing us both to the floor. The gun fell from his hand but the fallen soldier was forgotten; he swung at me and I ducked, throwing a punch to his stomach. The next thing I knew, it was like me and Joshua wrestling again.

I couldn't remember how many times we'd tumbled together across the grass in the backyard, gripping each other in headlocks and him throwing me over his shoulder. Usually he'd never put me down, even when I was pounding my fists against his back and demanding it. Sometimes he won and sometimes I did, though I'd always had the feeling he let me.

Except I had no choice but to win this time… unless I wanted to die. This one was no game. Already I could feel the bruises starting to form but I had the energy. It was stemming not only for survival but in hatred for this man. He'd helped kidnap my parents and for all I knew, maybe Alex too. People like him were the reason I risked my life… because he took others'.

Now I was on his back, clinging to his neck and hoping to cut off his circulation. As he began to stagger, fumbling for my fingers, all of a sudden he backed into the wall, all the while slamming me against it. I heard the breath whooshing out of my lungs and I felt my grip loosen, letting me fall to the floor.

I couldn't get to my feet fast enough. The tip of his boot was a rock sinking into butter; stars exploded before my eyes as the pain erupted in my gut. His laughter echoed in my ears as I rolled over painfully, curling into myself as if that would make it feel better. I struggled not to retch right there onto the floor, though I wouldn't have minded to rub his face in it.

As if he knew what I was thinking, he bent down, forcing me to look at him. There was two of him, three… and then a handful of them. Through my unfocused eyes he grinned, blood trickling from the many corners of his mouths. "I told you attacking me wouldn't turn out so well. If only you could imagine what that Rider kid is gonna have to endure now…"

That did it.

Mustering up all the strength I had left, I snapped my fist back and brought it forward. Ten fists hit ten men, throwing them backward onto the floor. It took a few moments and some really deep breaths to regain enough balance to stand. My body ached and complained and my knuckles felt sore from the punch. I wondered if I'd done something to my partially-healed leg. Was it supposed to feel like it was on fire?

I stood over his unconscious body and said, "Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not nice to hit girls?"

Even I knew that that didn't stop most criminals, if not all, from getting what they wanted.

A groan startled me. I realized that the SEAL was alive, sprawled onto the ground a few yards away. As quickly as I could, I limped over and dropped to my knees. "Lieutenant?" I panted. Blood was already soaking through above his name on his jacket, and after a swift assessment, I saw that the second bullet had managed to hit his thigh.

"Daniels…"

"Don't worry, sir," I reassured him as I rummaged through his vest. "You're going to be fine. Have you called for Boyd yet?" Boyd was the SEAL team's medic.

"No, but listen to me…" he tried again.

I kept going. "Why not? You don't have any first aid stuff in your vest. Is it in your backpack?" I bit my lip, knowing I wouldn't be able to take it off without hurting him.

"Daniels!" The authority in his voice didn't waver. I froze, staring at him. "Radio comms is down. We lost it almost the minute we opened fire. I imagine Jenkins and O'Brien have already sent for backup if they made it to the boat with your parents. They'll be here in a few minutes. You need to stop worrying about me and get yourself out of here. Take the last truck."

I found myself shaking my head slowly and then more vigorously. "No… sir. I can't—I can't do that."

He glared at me and then grimaced in pain. I reached for him though I was unsure of what to do. "Why not? That's an order, Daniels, not an option."

"What about Alex and David? And—and Ben? We can't leave them, I have to go look—"

"You are our priority. If Mather and his men still know that you're here, they'll continue fighting," he said softly. "Think of what that means for our team."

I fought down the hysteria coming on. He was right. It was never going to stop but there had to be something I could do. I didn't want to think of leaving anyone behind. "But what happened to never leaving a man behind?" I asked Scott, smiling weakly.

He chuckled and it sounded strong despite his injuries. "You're absolutely right. We never leave a man behind. But I also take my job seriously when it comes to keeping specific people alive… and that means you. I mean it when I say I'm sure they're fine."

"We haven't lost anyone yet?" I asked, watching him carefully. The dim light we were under made him look paler.

Sighing, he admitted, "We lost Chavez. Shot point blank."

I could feel his eyes on me as I processed that information. Even if I didn't know the Mexicans, he was still another man that died in this operation. And it helped harden the resolve forming in my heart and mind. "Alright. I'll go. Just let me help you."

I managed to carefully extract the first aid kit from his backpack and quickly treated his wounds, tying a tourniquet around his leg. It pained me to leave him here, especially when the man who'd taken me earlier was only unconscious feet away. Scott took notice of my concern and waved it off. "Hand me his gun. I'll take care of him if he wakes up."

And then I did just that, not knowing what exactly he meant but not caring enough to stop worrying about what I was about to do.

-Alex-

I woke up to pain and the sound of voices.

I forced my eyes open and then closed them again; a lone but unusually bright light hung above me, blinding me momentarily. After the spots disappeared from my vision, I looked down at myself and saw that I was still dressed in the combat gear with the exception of the assault vest and anything else that held weapons. My back no longer sported the tactical backpack and cold air cooled my sweaty head. That would explain why I could see the light too easily—the helmet and goggles were gone too. My hands were bound tightly behind me, around a rickety, fragile chair.

Flexing my jaw sent it into agony, enough to give me a momentary headache. Whatever hit I'd taken had been hard. I ran my tongue over my teeth and winced. It was a wonder that I hadn't broken any teeth.

The room I was in was rather small, the size of an average bedroom, but the ceiling was low. I could probably reach it just by standing. There were grimy, windowless walls that looked brownish grey rather than white and an overwhelming stench that was like death in a sewer. One door let out into what looked like one of the tunnels, carved out of dark brown rock with naked bulbs hanging from the "ceiling." I could hear voices from just outside the door.

"… still alive," one voice was saying. It sounded like David. "Do not let her out of your sight, do you understand me?"

"Should I blindfold her?" another asked.

"No. She'll be dead soon enough that it won't matter." That was definitely Mather.

His words were like the serrated edge of a knife, digging into my skin. Before the fury could fully take over me, David walked through the door. He looked haggard; still wearing the combat gear, he'd shed the helmet and rifle, revealing his worn face. Seeing him sent a flood of memories into my brain and my emotions peaked.

"Oh, you're awake," he commented, coming to stand in front of me.

I just glared at him, hoping my eyes would say what my mouth couldn't.

Mather walked into the room then, looking slightly annoyed. His eyes landed on me and instantly brightened, a small grin spreading on his face. I struggled to keep myself in check, wishing that I could wipe that smirk off.

"Alright, Alex," David said as he stepped around me. I stared straight ahead though it went against my instincts to let him out of my sight. Eventually he came back around with a chair just as fragile-looking as the one I sat in and placed it a few feet in front of me. He swung it around backwards so that when he sat in it, he could lean his arms against the back. There was something careful about the way he looked at me and it made me uncomfortable. "How much do you know about me?"

"Not much… except that you're a traitor." I flinched at the pain in my jaw.

He continued looking at me, not giving away any emotion, which unnerved me. "Look, Alex, I know you don't want to hear this—"

"If it's an apology, it's too late for that," I nearly growled.

"The sooner you shut up, the longer I'll prolong your death, Rider," Mather snapped, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer.

David held up a hand towards him but didn't remove his gaze from mine. "I'm going to tell you how you've ended up here, Alex. I figure that you should at least know the truth…"

Before I die, I thought bitterly.

"I won't bore you with the details of the first twenty years of my life so I'll skip to when I joined the CIA. I've been an agent for several years. I started with them right after college. I learned quickly, throwing myself into training and studies, and soon enough, I began working with some of the agency's best people. It's a real honor knowing that you're good enough to work with them… eventually good enough to become a unit leader." He gave a wry smile. "Unfortunately, with responsibility come a lot of things besides the thrill of being a well-respected figure. I had to see a lot of good agents go and I gotta tell you, it isn't easy knowing some of your friends won't come back." He shifted in the chair and sighed. "One of those particular times took place here in Mexico. Have you heard of Acapulco de Juárez? It's just south of Mexico City, on the coast, and a very beautiful place. I was there with two others, a young, somewhat inexperienced agent—only because this was his first assignment—and our case officer. This was before Addie had come along, almost two years ago. Brian and Julia were still part of my unit but not part of this assignment.

"Anyway, after almost two weeks of what was looking like a wild goose chase with unsuccessful recon, we found out that a certain convict was in town. You can probably guess who I mean."

I said nothing, keeping my eyes on him.

"That day called for more reconnaissance but this time, we knew we were going to get something. I mean, it was Castillo. We would have been damn insane to let him go without doing anything." David shook his head, looking lost in thought. "Olsen reported to us that he was having a jolly good time with three other drug traffickers, and honestly, that scared the shit out of me."

I wanted to frown; I'd never heard David speak or act this way. In fact, there was a side to him coming out that I never would have picked out if he'd kept up that pretense of caring for Addie. Were his true colors showing?

Plus, there was something about his story that was also being revealed, like the codes on the back of cards that you had to scratch away with a coin. Subconsciously I knew what it was but again, it was refusing to expose itself to me. I tugged at the ties on my wrists uneasily, half wanting to know what the truth was and half needing to bolt without a backwards glance.

"The whole thing did scare me, both in a terrifying and exciting way. I've worked some major cases but I'd never been asked to do something this big. Imagine what it must've been like for the new kid. Busting a huge criminal on his first job." David chuckled at a memory. "We ended up posing as waiters, smuggling in a few gadgets to help us out if we couldn't catch the entire conversation taking place between the men. The kid's nerves got the best of him but we pulled out of that place with more than enough to figure out Castillo's plans."

He paused then, a dark look crossing his face. "As an agent, you have to be prepared for anything. You can't assume that you're one hundred percent safe, no matter where you are. Your entire life is based on your job; safety plays into many factors. If you're buying a house, you have to be meticulous enough to not allow any kind of easy break-ins or attempted assassinations. Having too many windows is a huge risk, especially if it's easy to see into your house or climb a tree into it."

Mather cleared his throat and David looked up at him. Then he glanced at me and explained, "As prepared as I thought I was, I will never forget that very night. Olsen called my hotel room a few hours after we gathered Intel on Castillo. He sounded nervous but I knew he was even angrier. A colorful mouth that guy's got. He was pissed that the young agent hadn't met with him when he was supposed to—you can't miss these kinds of things. Of course, because of that and the fact that the kid was usually pretty good with this stuff, I went to check things out. I stopped by his hotel room with a couple other agents I'd called in and…"

His fists clenched and I could see the tendons standing out under his skin. "It was a mess. I couldn't believe my eyes; I'd never seen anything so… so… gruesome." I could see the truth starting to appear underneath the silver film, David's words scratching it away. "I barely recognized him. I probably wouldn't have if it weren't for the silver ring in his pocket that he'd showed me earlier that day."

And then there it was. I knew exactly what he was talking about… and David sensed my understanding, watching me. "I still don't get it," I said. "What made you decide to go after his sister? Vengeance? Did his ruining the assignment taint your image?"

His eyes flashed but his voice was calm. "I was shocked and upset. I'm not going to go into the details of why because I have more important things to tell you. After her brother's death, Addie was jumping at every opportunity to try to get me to recruit her. She'd only mourned for a few days but already she was practically begging me to pull a few strings and have her as a part of the unit before she was even a legal adult. I don't even know for sure how she ever managed to convince her parents." He ran a hand through his hair and looked away, somewhere behind me. It seemed like he was reliving all these moments, the ones that evidently changed his life.

"Though I didn't know her well then, I knew what she was capable of. I heard a lot of stories from her brother and some training exercises had only proved his words. When we were close to completing the recruitment process, I received a… 'special' package at home," he told me, starting to hesitate. "There was a lot of information in the file, the kind that you didn't get even from the CIA. It was everything, everything about my life and even my family: my wife, parents, and siblings…

It was perfect," he admitted tiredly. "The perfect way to blackmail someone into working for you."

He said no more after that but I wasn't satisfied. He hadn't given me all the answers, the whole truth. "What did he ask you to do?"

He didn't have to ask to know who I meant. "Since I work for the CIA and often go to its headquarters, I was supposed to—and still am—find a way to weaken it. There were no specifics; I had to figure it out on my own. I didn't know what to do though! I considered wiping out information, leaking secrets, but none of it seemed right."

I snorted but he ignored me.

"That's not what I meant. Of course I would've been committing a federal crime for any of those but what I mean is: none of it seemed like it would actually help Castillo himself. His instructions were very… explicit.

"But then our unit started working assignments that were loosely related to him. Of course, we couldn't do anything too far into the field what with Addie being a minor and her parents being, well, parents, but it was good enough for me. I realized that having such a young agent was an unusually good benefit, so that was a good thing… in more ways than one.

"I can't tell you how overwhelmed I was when we managed to get you to fly here, Alex. I thought, Sure it might be a little more difficult getting rid of Addie but if things go my way, Castillo will be satisfied, especially if he knows that Alex Rider was involved."

"You're sick," I spat, leaning forward. The ties dug into my skin. "I thought she was 'like a little sister' to you! How could you work with her for two years knowing what you were doing?"

David stood up from the chair, frustration warping his features. "She is like a little sister to me! I didn't even realize what I had to do about her until last year. You don't think it's hard for me to accept that I have to… I have to…" He winced, seemingly unable to say it.

"What? Kill her? Is that what you're trying to say? You're still sick, David. And she trusted you too. Wait until she hears about this."

"He threatened my family, Rider!" David shouted, stepping closer. I could feel spittle on my face as he continued to yell. "He knows everything about me! I can't put them into that kind of danger, not when there's a way to prevent it. My wife is seven months pregnant too. You think I could bear to have her killed? What's one life if I can save many?"

I spoke through clenched teeth. "I'd say congrats but that doesn't feel appropriate. 'Sorry' is more like it; no one deserves to have a father like you."

I'd seen many madmen in my life, in just the eighteen years I've been alive. But there was something about David that wasn't particularly inhumane or even bestial. It was something that inhabited his very being and made him seemingly insane, and though that description fit anyone from Damian Cray to Nikolei Drevin, it set him apart. There was a part of him—a part that maybe even he didn't know existed—that knew what he was doing and knew it well. It was the angel on his shoulder trying to guide him while the devil on the other whispered into his ear. He was in there, the David that Addie knew, the one I could've gotten along with.

But was that really any reason to hope? He wasn't going to give into his morals now, not when the fear of losing everything was in the way. And so that had me thinking of Addie, thinking of us, and wondering the same question over and over.

How were we going to survive this?

Note: Review please! I know it wasn't the best chapter but I'll probably end up changing a few things.