Disclaimer: Tom Clancy was a truly brilliant writer. I am not Tom Clancy.
Thanks to everyone weighing in on the Freya question… and thanks to LFB72 and starglen (and others) for long and considered reviews!
Chapter 9: An Audience With the King
Thursday morning Thomas Drake left the house before Arthur got up, so he drove himself to Camelot in his Mustang without the benefit of Leon's company or advice. He stopped by Mary's office and asked that she make room on his father's schedule for him. "Ten minutes, Mary," he said, giving the middle-aged blonde woman his charming smile. "Ten minutes is all I need."
"Well, if it's important…" His father's blonde PA relented. "And if I can get him off the phone with the Pentagon by one-twenty…"
"With the Pentagon?" Arthur said.
Mary smiled. "They're trying to arrange a place and time for a demonstration of new technology, pending a successful initial test next week."
"Uh-huh," Arthur said, a feeling of uneasiness stirring. "Thanks, Mary. We'll be here at quarter-after."
That morning Arthur spent with Engineering. They were confident in their security. They wouldn't give him copies of the blueprints of the drone.
Percival came for a few minutes at Arthur's request, and confirmed both Gaius' information and Merlin's tale of a twelve-second lapse on the military side of the program. He was concerned at the possibility of a breach in security, but willing to follow his liege's lead in the matter. Arthur decided not to mention Merlin's suspicion to Percival – not yet, anyway. He wasn't sure if Lieutenant Spiers would be required to report such a thing… and he understood Merlin's lies of omission a little better.
"I'm working through lunch today," Percival added. "That way I can leave for home at four instead of five o'clock." He gave Arthur his big easy grin. "Kathryn's not happy about this commute."
Leon was having the Bentley detailed during the lunch hour, so Arthur and Gwen were alone at the table in the break-room. "You're quiet today," Gwen observed, munching a carrot stick.
"Yeah. Gwen," Arthur said, as a thought occurred to him, "what does Elyan do, exactly, in the navy?"
"He's in naval intelligence," Gwen said. "Satellite surveillance, mostly, tracking potential terrorist threats. Why?"
"Just – wondering," Arthur said, surprised – although maybe he shouldn't be – at how closely Elyan's specialty matched this challenge they were facing.
"You've got an idea why you've returned," Gwen guessed. "I – I know we weren't going to live a quiet, ordinary life – I mean, you're King Arthur, after all…" She trailed off, sorrow in her eyes.
"Hey, we'll be all right," Arthur said. "I promise."
"Don't say that!" Gwen said, startling him with her vehemence. "Don't say that, when you don't know. You don't know what it was like, waiting behind in the city, watching you ride out…"
"I don't even carry a sword anymore." Arthur smiled, wanting to reassure her. "I'll be fine – Merlin has my back, after all."
"I would feel better about that if Merlin knew he had your back, too," Gwen said.
*….. *….. *….. *….. *…..
Merlin was late. Arthur wasn't surprised. He waited for the sorcerer in the lobby, hands on his hips. At five minutes past one o'clock, he wondered briefly if he'd changed his mind, run away – though Merlin never did run away – before deciding that the fleeting thought was an absurd one.
Merlin loped into the lobby at ten-after, pale and clutching the satchel strap across his chest. His black t-shirt stood out through the white button-up shirt. A second bruise darkened his jaw-line, and Arthur wondered sympathetically as to the count of similar marks on his friend's body from the tumble down the stairs.
"How are you doing?" Arthur said.
"I'll be okay," Merlin mumbled, flashing a quick tense grin.
"You look like you didn't sleep at all," Arthur reproved him. Even with Gaius waking him every two hours, he could've had at least nine or ten worth of sleep. "Nightmares?" He could have bit his tongue as soon as the word slipped out.
Merlin stared at Arthur. "Yeah," he finally confessed. "But – I don't remember them." The phones warbled, echoing through the lobby, and Arthur turned to lead his friend up to the CEO's office. "What if your father doesn't listen to me?" Merlin worried, stumbling a little on the grand stair, to Arthur's right and a little behind.
"Just tell the truth," Arthur said. "You'll be fine." He relished the rightness of having his friend at his side. Not a servant anymore, nor a sorcerer yet again… but friend was good.
"No offense, Drake, but the truth hasn't ever done me much good."
Arthur paused and turned on the second-floor landing, forcing Merlin to meet his gaze. "Relax," he ordered. "My father will not order your arrest or execution – there is no dungeon here."
"No – but he can still fire me," Merlin said drily. "And oddly enough – I'd like to keep this job." Til the day I die. Arthur stared at him for a moment longer, then continued up the second flight of stairs. "You're really putting your ass on the line for this," Merlin said.
"So are you," Arthur reminded him.
"Yeah…but mine is only a skinny ass," Merlin said. "Whereas yours…"
Arthur turned on the stairs, feigning anger, and Merlin pulled back to avoid running into him, startled. "Don't you dare call me fat," Arthur ordered, trying to stuff down a feeling of incongruously hilarious joy. Was he fooling himself to believe that his old friend was closer to the surface than before? If anyone had told him he'd be glad to hear Merlin making jokes about Arthur's physique… "It's all muscle."
"Of course it is." Merlin's blue eyes were clear, innocent of mockery.
"I'm fighting fit – and don't you forget it." Arthur turned away before loosing the grin he'd been fighting.
"Arthur," Thomas Drake greeted his son when the two entered his office. "This is unexpected." He checked his Rolex. "I have –"
"Ten minutes, Father," Arthur said. "I have some concerns about the drone project. There's reason to believe our data has been compromised."
Thomas Drake's eyes narrowed. "Explain," he said. Arthur nodded to Merlin.
"Last Monday Engineering called in a request to IT concerning the firewall protecting their most important projects," Merlin began. "It was a relatively easy problem to fix…" Arthur seated himself in the guest chair in the corner of his father's office, gazing out the window at the twisted metal sculpture on the lawn. He understood one word in ten of his friend's explanation, but felt a deep and satisfying pride in the young man. It took courage for an intern to speak to a CEO about his suspicions, but Merlin gained confidence as he went on. "My guess is they backdoored the compiler for the purpose of network enumeration," Merlin concluded. "Your UAV project is no longer confidential."
Thomas Drake studied the young man, steepling his fingers together. "Of course you're prepared to offer proof other than your opinion," he said.
"Sir, if there was proof, you wouldn't have to worry," Merlin said. "Someone who leaves proof is an amateur. This – it's like having someone read over your shoulder. You can't see them or hear them or feel them, but you know they're there. These issues – the firewall, the password, the server – it's like having your light blocked for an instant. There's still no hard evidence, but you know someone's there."
For several moments, Arthur's father regarded the earnest teenager – and Merlin held his gaze. Then Thomas Drake said, his tone giving nothing away, "You may wait outside."
Merlin shot Arthur a look, but obeyed, closing the door behind him. Arthur rose and took the place in front of his father's desk left vacant by the sorcerer's exit. Thomas Drake had his eyes closed contemplatively. "What do you think we should do?" Arthur said.
His father's eyes opened, cold and hard. "What is it you want, Arthur?" he said, voice soft and dangerous. "You're not happy with your duties – you want more responsibility? More money? What is it?"
"What do you mean?" Arthur said, uncomprehending.
"This – ridiculousness," his father snapped, dismissing Merlin with a flutter of his fingers. "It reeks of blackmail. I'm not sure why you thought it appropriate to drag him into your scheme –"
"It's no scheme, Father," Arthur said, trying to control his temper. "I believe him. We have a serious breach of security to investigate."
"No scheme?" his father said incredulously. "Are you really that naïve, Arthur? If you haven't paid that – that boy – to lie for you, then it's clear to me that he's been lying to you. What did he ask you for? A raise? Or is he controlling you with the threat of making this information public? Corporate espionage carries quite a jail sentence, you know."
"Aren't you listening?" Arthur said, leaning forward onto his father's desk, palms down and fingers splayed. "Someone has hacked our project – we need to find out who and why – or maybe we should alert the DoD and let them –"
"Not another word!" Thomas Drake thundered, rising to his feet. "You dare to coerce my cooperation? Do you have any idea what this contract means to this company? If you mention one word of your conspiracy theory to anyone, I will – I will –" Arthur's father faltered, and Arthur began to hope against logic that he might reconsider. "I will see to it that he is fired." Thomas Drake pointed to the door behind which Merlin waited. "I will make sure he is prosecuted fully for this breach of his employment contract, fined to the fullest extent for the broken confidentiality agreement."
And there it was. Unable to punish his son with termination or legal action, Thomas Drake would keep Arthur in line by playing on his apparent loyalties. Arthur closed his hands into fists.
"Let me hear no more of this," Thomas Drake finished. "Get back to work – we must be ready for the final test of the drone Monday morning."
"Yes, father." Arthur had no trouble agreeing to those two orders, at least.
"And make sure he knows it's his head on the block, if this gets out!"
On the block. Perfect. Arthur inclined his head, too angry to speak, and closed the door behind him as he left the office.
"What did he say?" Merlin said.
Arthur held up one hand, requesting temporary silence, and for once Merlin obeyed, trailing after him down the two flights of the grand staircase, across the rising-sun logo on the lobby floor. He looked for Gwen at the desk, but only Patty was on duty. Then he was out the front door, and cut to the side yard by the break-room door, out of sight from his father's office. Then he stopped, leaning against the building in a spot of shade, letting the warmth of early summer soak into his cold, hard anger.
"He didn't believe me, did he?" Merlin said in a low voice. "You're not in trouble, are you?"
Typical Merlin – worried more for Arthur's sake than his own. "No," he said only, answering both questions with strict honesty.
Merlin leaned one shoulder against the wall beside him. "What are we going to do?" he said.
"You took sick leave today, didn't you?" Arthur opened his eyes to catch Merlin's nod. "Will your grandfather let you use his computer at the lab this afternoon?"
"I think so, if I tell him it's important…" Merlin's blue eyes widened as Arthur opened one fist to hand him a small orange thumb-drive, and he gave a short incredulous chuckle.
"See what you can get off there," Arthur said. Merlin nodded, taking the drive. "Hypothetically speaking, with the equipment you have access to – here or at home, in IT or anywhere else – could you find whoever is responsible by next week?" Merlin's eyes went slightly unfocused as he considered, then slowly, apologetically, shook his head. "Never mind," Arthur said. "That's what I thought." He took in his friend's body language and expression, and remembered – as if he could forget – that this Merlin was only a teenager in a new city, with a new home and a new job, acquainted with Arthur for less than two weeks.
His willingness to obey, to risk his job – and more – to trust Arthur to know what to do, to do what was necessary… staggering. "Are you sure you want to stay involved?" Arthur questioned him, dead-serious.
Merlin's eyes were solemn, but he quipped, "In for a penny, in for a pound."
"You know you don't – have to," Arthur said.
Merlin gave him a quizzical frown. "That's what friends are for, you said." He readjusted the strap of his satchel over his shoulder, and turned to lop across the lawn toward the lab.
"Take your Percocet!" Arthur called after him, and he waved one hand without turning, to show he'd heard.
Arthur returned to Engineering, but found it hard to concentrate on his pre-training lecture. After only forty minutes, his phone vibrated in his pocket, and he took it out immediately. "Excuse me," he said smoothly to the lecturer, an angular, gray-haired man, "This is about another project." The angular man turned away, shrugging, and Arthur checked the message – from Gaius' phone. He frowned, then realized Merlin would be using it.
Chkd drive. Cmplete blprints. ?why hacked – no $ to NEone xcept cmptition. But 2 little 2 late 4 othr cmpny profit. What now, what now? Arthur thought, drumming his fingers on the desk beside him. The phone pinged a second incoming message, again from Gaius' phone. Idea. F we c test model, mayb find out more nsers?
Arthur texted back. Will let u no.
He keyed for Leon's number. Took Dad's thumbdrive. Can u cover 4 now, & return it 2nite w/o him knowing? Then Gwaine's – Need 2 no where drones from project r kept. All dtails. Then Percival's – Tell Kathryn srry – nee fter work.
He didn't wait long for the incoming texts, one after another after another. Leon: Yes – am off 9.
Gwaine: Will do. My place 6 2nite, pzza & beer?
Percival: K vry undrstndng – whatvr u need.
Okay. Arthur took a deep breath. Reply all: Gwaines 6. He considered, then back-spaced and entered instead: Gavins 6. He inserted Gwaine's address from his saved entry, and sent the message.
There was no way they could ask to be allowed to see the drones. But if Merlin was right – and Arthur had to admit he usually was – then what he had in mind was completely necessary.
Just so long as they didn't get caught…
*….. *….. *….. *….. *…..
Later that afternoon, after saying goodbye to Gwen on the front sidewalk, Arthur sent Leon to the lab to retrieve Thomas Drake's drive from Merlin. "You let me know what I can do," Leon told Arthur seriously. "This job means my first responsibility is to your father. But the way I see it, my job is not more important than my calling."
"Thank you, Leon," Arthur said, clapping the former knight's shoulder. The loyalty of these men that had endured past centuries was humbling. It helped to make the knowledge of his destiny – so much more than that of a king's son, a crown prince, a young king – the expectations of a legend more bearable.
He was still thinking on that shortly after five o'clock, when he picked Merlin up from the lab, giving Gaius a quick but accurate explanation of the evening's plans. Merlin was silent in the passenger seat of the Mustang as they drove to Gwaine's apartment. Glancing at his friend's profile, Arthur was aware that Merlin had once carried the same burden of knowledge – of being the prophesied Emrys, destined to be the salvation of the magical community. What a weight for a young man! With only – as Arthur understood it – the old physician to understand, to support and advise. Arthur looked at the teenager beside him, at the obvious sterling quality of character in spite of an extremely stormy adolescence, and found he was really in no hurry for a lifetime of sorcerer's secrets to descend upon his friend.
The radio crooned softly in the background, until suddenly he recognized the song playing – Some people live their dreams/ Some people close their eyes/ Some people's destiny/ Passes by… Arthur reached to turn it off, and realized his radio wasn't actually on. He let his hand drop. "What are you thinking?" he said to Merlin.
He thought maybe Merlin hadn't heard him, was ignoring him. He wasn't focusing on anything he saw outside the window. After a moment he simply said, "Just thinking." Remembering times gone by/ Promises we once made/ What are the reasons why/ Nothing stays the same… With an effort, Arthur refrained from further questioning. Then Merlin said, in a wistful kind of way, "I've had a pretty crazy life. But these last two weeks…"
"Pretty crazy," Arthur agreed, when Merlin didn't go on. He hoped at least it represented a better crazy for Merlin than what he'd gone through before.
"I don't know…" Merlin shifted in the seat. "I just can't shake this…"
"Funny feeling?" Arthur said, glancing over to catch his friend's nod. Merlin's posture and expression exuded wariness of Arthur's response, as if he expected disbelief and ridicule. "Well, Merlin, that's good enough for me."
"Is it really?" Merlin said. His Merlin might have added saucily, Took you long enough.
Percival – off work at four because he hadn't taken lunch – was already at Gwaine's when they arrived. Gwaine hollered that the door was open, and Arthur and Merlin came through the kitchen, finding the two knights deep in a combat scenario of Call of Duty.
"Watch that camper," Gwaine warned Percival. "Everything I got on the location of the drones is on the table," he called back to Arthur. "We've been over it already… See what you think."
"You raise any red flags getting it?" Arthur asked, beginning to sift through the paperwork drifted across the battered wooden table, absently seating himself at the head. Gwaine answered in the negative with a snort. Merlin slipped into the chair to Arthur's right, clutching the strap of his satchel, eyes taking in the information spread out, but keeping his hands to himself. Aerial photographs of the site, resumes of the three security guards, work order for the security company that installed the anti-intruder measures on the property. "Merlin, see what you can find out about these three." He handed the sorcerer the resumes, while he focused on the aerial photographs, picking up a magnifying glass left on the table. Merlin took out his laptop and opened it, his fingers flashing across his keyboard. "Are these the best photos you could get?" Arthur said.
"It's all they had," Gwaine mumbled from his seat on the carpet, leaning against the couch.
"What's the address?" Merlin said, and Arthur pitched a post-it note on the top resume, turning his attention to mentally cataloguing the obstacles between them and the drones.
"Watch that sniper on your left," Percival warned. "No – up on the roof – no –" Gwaine cursed and tossed his controller onto the brown shag rug. Percival set his down more carefully, and both knights came into the room to seat themselves across from Arthur and to his left. "What do you think?" Percival asked.
"It's a private site," Gwaine said. "Electric fences, barbed wire, three guards from six hundred to twenty hundred hours, then only two from twenty hundred to six, along with one dog twenty-four-seven. No access granted to anyone without dual confirmation – Camelot ID, and specific clearance from Thomas Drake."
"Which clearance," Arthur noted, reading to the end of the report, "is double-checked via private password before admittance."
"Here," Merlin said, turning his laptop around for the others to see. "You can get pretty good aerial photos from weather monitoring satellites."
"Good," Arthur said. "Gw – ah, Gavin, make copies and add those to our material here."
"What's the objective?" Percival said.
"We need – well, Merlin needs – a good, close, long look at the drones," Arthur said. "And we need to do it with nobody the wiser…" he hesitated, a thought occurring to him. "With nobody the wiser that it was us. If a break-in at the drone's location is reported to my father, possibly he would reconsider his disbelief."
"And the guards?" Percival said, rubbing his jaw. On the laptop keyboard, Merlin's fingers stilled, his eyes meeting Arthur's.
"Avoid contact," Arthur said. "Ideally, they'll discover the break-in after we're safely away. Plan B, knock 'em out and tie 'em up."
The doorbell rang, and Gwaine got up from his chair to deal with the pizza delivery. Percival collected the paperwork so Gwaine could set the boxes on the table, and Gwaine returned to the fridge for a case of bottled beer.
"Arthur," Merlin said. "Look at this." He turned the laptop around for Arthur to view the screen, a DMV copy of an ID picturing a nondescript white male. "Fred Acheson is one of the three guards. The other two checked out, but this one – something is off."
"Something what?" Arthur said. Merlin glanced at the other two – Percival calm-faced as ever, Gwaine checking an instinct to tease.
Merlin said, "All the proper records are there, down to his grades in elementary school, but what's missing is the extra – no dog registration, no college campus parking tickets, no passport application, not even a library card. He looks good on paper – but I think paper is all it is."
"That won't change the mission," Arthur decided. "We'll be aware of the extra risk he may pose –"
"No one to hold hostage?" Percival asked.
"No one to interrogate?" Gwaine said plaintively.
Arthur allowed a small, quick smile. "Not this time," he said.
"Are we going in armed?" Gwaine asked.
"Stun guns or tasers only," Arthur said. "I don't want any of us hurt just to avoid getting fired or locked up, but the guards, ultimately, are on our side."
Merlin looked from Arthur to the other two, and back again. "What are you guys, the A-team?" he said, only half-kidding. The two knights stared at the young sorcerer for a moment, before bursting into laughter. Merlin pushed himself up from the table, slipped out the sliding glass door that led to Gwaine's balcony. Once there, he lit a cigarette and leaned on the iron railing.
"The A-Team," Gwaine repeated, making a show of wiping his eyes. "Ye gods, I love that kid."
"He still doesn't remember," Percival said, and though it wasn't a question, Arthur shook his head. "It's a wonder he's here, Arthur," the big knight continued. "How many kids just out of high school, strangers in a new place, would be up for this?" He gestured at the intelligence paperwork Gwaine had gathered. "He's incredible."
"He always went with us," Gwaine said. "On patrols, on quests…"
"Because he knew his magic could keep him safe," Percival said, and Arthur realized that the quiet knight had been considering the issue for some time. "Him, and Arthur. And all of us. And – he doesn't know that, this time. Yet he's coming anyway."
Arthur left the table, slid open the glass door to step out of the apartment. It was warm out, a few stars showing, the air humid but not yet unpleasant for the season. Arthur leaned on the railing next to Merlin as the young sorcerer lit a second cigarette from the butt of the first. "What the hell are we doing?" Merlin said bluntly.
Arthur spread his hands. "I suppose we could let it go and do nothing," he said. "See what happens."
"No," Merlin said immediately, then shook his head at himself. He twisted sideways to rest his hips in the corner of the railing, squinting at Arthur through the trailing smoke. "Tell me something, college boy," he said. "Pete is an army lieutenant. Gavin's been PD for a couple years. Hell, even Leon has training and experience in self-defense and security." Arthur nodded, taking no offense, waiting for Merlin to continue. "Why do they all act like you're the quarterback of this screwed-up little football team? Because you're the boss' son? These guys – they're newer to Camelot than I am, and – and – this?"
Arthur didn't dare speak. He wanted to tell Merlin everything, lay it all out – the dreams, the memories, the Round Table and a kingdom reclaimed from darkness. But to say to someone who didn't share those memories, I am King Arthur – it was sheer lunacy.
He wanted to tell his secret, but he knew his friend wouldn't believe him. Worse, his friend might stop trusting him and turn away, when confidence was of the utmost importance .
Arthur felt like his epiphany had punched him in the stomach. "I am," he managed, "so sorry, Merlin. For everything."
Merlin shrugged, inhaling nicotine, turning away. "I don't get it," he said, pretending nonchalance, but Arthur heard a note of longing in his friend's voice.
At that moment Gwaine slid the glass door open behind them. "Leon's here," he reported. "He's got an idea for the dog. Are you ready to make a plan?"
Arthur glanced at Merlin, who shrugged and inhaled deeply before flicking the cigarette over the edge of the balcony. "I and my fellows," he said, "are ministers of Fate."
A/N: Okay, so I may have written myself into a corner with this drone thing… I am not now nor have ever been nor ever will be privy to the comprehension of cutting-edge military technology. I simply wanted to write a reincarnation fic, and asked myself, what would be a big enough problem to need the once and future king for. After doing exhausting (not exhaustive) research, I am simply going to make it up as I go along, and hope it holds together…
Also, what about the texting-ploy? Does that work for the story, or should I expand into actual phone conversations?
Ah.. I get it. Shorter chapter = more reviews. Oh, well…
And last but not least, Merlin's last line this chapter is one of Ariel's lines from The Tempest…
…..*…..
Some readers whose first language is not English have expressed difficulty reader the text messages, so here's a 'translation'…
Chkd drive. Cmplete blprints. ?why hacked – no $ to NEone xcept cmptition. But 2 little 2 late 4 othr cmpny profit. Checked drive. Complete blueprints. Question/don't know why hacked – no money/profit to anyone except competition. But too little too late for other company profit.
Idea. F we c test model, mayb find out more nsers? Idea. If we see test model, maybe find out more answers?
Will let u no. Will let you know.
Took Dad's thumbdrive. Can u cover 4 now, & return it 2nite w/o him knowing? Took Dad's thumbdrive. Can you cover for now, and return it tonight without him knowing?
Need 2 no where drones from project r kept. All dtails. Need to know where drones from project are kept. All details.
Tell Kathryn srry – nee fter work. Tell Kathryn sorry – need to see you after work.
Yes – am off 9. Yes – am off at nine (o'clock).
Will do. My place 6 2nite, pzza & beer? Will do. My place at six (o'clock) tonight, pizza and beer?
K vry undrstndng – whatvr u need. Kathryn very understanding – whatever you need.
Gwaines 6./Gavins 6. Gwaine's/Gavin's at six (o'clock).