Rising Tide

The screeching of wheels on asphalt and an agonising pain searing through his lower abdomen jolted Percival awake. Once he forced his eyes open, it didn't take long for him to realise he was being held captive inside a van. It was almost pitch black, so the ropes tying his hands to the rail above his head were hardly visible. Still, Percival could feel them chafing against his wrists. With great effort, he tried to sit up by pulling himself up on the rope but failed, his body too weak. Instead, his head hit the side of the vehicle with a loud thump. Percy hissed, barely able to stifle a moan.

The movement caused the pain in his abdomen to grow worse, and it was becoming unbearable. He only had to crane his neck to find its source. Blood drenched the front of his shirt, staining the white fabric. His suit jacket was nowhere to be seen and his pants were ripped in several places. Percival frowned, wondering briefly what had happened before remembering his mission to Tehran.

The flight had gone smoothly and he'd moved into the safe house rented by Kingsman soon after he landed. His grief, however, and foolish hope that he would find evidence to support even the smallest sliver of doubt concerning James' death had made him careless. Only a few hours after his arrival Percy had discarded his original plan to meet with their contact, instead choosing to pay the cover organisation of the terrorist group a visit. They used a tall building near the city center as an operation base, disguising their real business as a marketing firm.

He had never made it past the entrance hall.

All he remembered was the need to kill, the urge to destroy everything in his path. Old and young, male and female, he'd all slaughtered them with a satisfaction that made him sick.

Thanks to his training he'd stayed standing for a long time. His luck, however, had run out when one of the terrorist had buried a knife somewhere near his kidneys and he realised he must have lost consciousness soon after.

It didn't take a great detective to assume the van he was in now belonged to the very people whose attention he had wanted to avoid. The thought that he himself might be in danger, however, only crossed his mind briefly. Instead, the fear that threatened to rule his head was directed at Roxy and how she might have been affected by the recent events. Whatever it was that had caused everyone to go crazy had most likely been Valentine's doing and not only restricted to Tehran. The possibility that Roxy might not have survived was unbearable and Percy quickly stopped himself from venturing down that train of thought. He couldn't lose the only person left he felt truly connected to. It would tear him apart.

Percival was ripped out of his thoughts by the van's sudden halt, forcing him to lean toward the driver cabin. He was aware of another vehicle stopping behind him, probably waiting at a traffic light, and the shouting of an angry pedestrian crossing the street.

It wasn't what the man said that made him look up, but the language he spoke in. It was clearly Russian, though accompanied by the sort of accent only encountered outside Russia itself. If Percy's memory was reliable - and it seldom let him down - they were driving through Kazakhstan, probably heading towards Russia.

It was an unsettling revelation at best. Mostly because it meant that whoever went to search for him - if Kingsman was still operable of course, but he didn't dare doubt that - would have no chance to find him. If he wanted to get out of this mess, Percy would have to free himself or at least leave Kingsman a clue.

With his hands tied above his head, his options to activate his glasses were limited. After a few failed attempts and quite a few muffled grunts of pain, Percy managed to get hold of his specs with the tips of his right hand. But the complex movement had left him even more exhausted and increased the pain in his gut to the point where he had to fight not to slip into unconsciousness again.

Willing himself to stay focused, Percy slowly tapped the side of the specs rhythmically. He was strongly aware of the fact that it was probably a shot in the dark, but he knew the normal communication device built into the frame had been broken during the fight in Tehran. The chance that someone would stumble upon or even be able to decrypt his message was unlikely at best.

Nonetheless, Percy proceeded tapping, trying not to think too hard about what he was doing. It brought back painful memories of mission and fights carried out together with Lancelot that did nothing to strengthen his will to oppose whatever awaited him once they reached their final destination.

It was a good thing he'd hurried, because he'd barely been able to send the primary information when the rear doors opened and a man entered the van. Percy, blinded by the sudden light and experiencing blurred vision, could do little to keep the man from crashing his glasses beneath his boot. Instead, he almost welcomed the punch knocking him unconscious, relieved to be free of pain for the time being.

~oOo~

"Hmmm," Roxy hummed into her cup of hot chocolate. "This is delicious."

As it turned out, Eggsy had stumbled upon hot chocolate powder while he'd searched the kitchen of the mansion for a snack during training.

Remembering its exquisite flavor, he'd run off to fix them both a cup and even put some crème on top. Roxy, having picked up her chocolate addiction from James, had almost squealed at the sight.

They sat in comfortable silence side by side on the dark couch in the library, the files lying forgotten on the sofas and table nearby. The dark liquid warmed them from the inside, washing away part of their sorrow. Roxy closed her eyes, remembering sleepless nights when James had brought her chocolate and let her cuddle with him. It had been his way to cheer her up when she was sad or worried sick that Percy wouldn't return.

Once she'd drained every last drop, Roxy licked her lips. But instead of cleaning the brown liquid from her face, she only succeeded in smearing it further, causing Eggsy to burst out laughing. In return, Roxy dipped her finger into his cup and left white crème on his nose before he could stop her.

"You're impossible." Eggsy laughed, wiping it away with the back of his hand.

Still grinning, Roxy extended one arm to safely put the empty cup on the table. But before she reached the edge, she froze, her hand lost in midair.

For a terrible moment, everything seemed to stand still, then, a fraction of a second later, the cup slipped from her grip and fell. If not for Eggsy's quick reflexes it would have shattered on the wooden floor of the library, smashed into hundreds of shards.

But Eggsy caught it and, still leaning forward, turned his head to look at his friend with worry. Her face was as white as a sheet of paper and her unfocused eyes wide open. She reminded him of a startled deer, frightened and ready to bounce.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Oh my god," she whispered, her voice so quiet he almost didn't hear her. Then, as if suddenly realising where she was, Roxy yanked off her glasses and stared at them incredulously. "This can't be…"

Still clueless about what had happened, Eggsy inspected the glasses as well, hoping to find what had put Roxy off. But as far as he could tell, there was nothing extraordinary about them. Roxy, however, seemed to think otherwise. Without warning, she leaped up, putting Eggsy – who was still leaning forward – slightly off balance and rushed to the door.

"Hey, where are you going?" Eggsy called out perplexed, setting the two cups safely on the table.

A faint "Central!" could be heard, indicating that Roxy had already crossed the hallway and Eggsy sighed, taking off after her.

~oOo~

Central was quiet, the only sound penetrating the air the faint, rhythmical tapping of keys. Merlin usually treasured those moments of peace, when he was able to fully loose himself in his work. Surrounded by tech and data, he was able to create the things the knights couldn't even imagine.

Now, however, the silence was suffocating and was a painful reminder of the loss of the people who'd usually chased it away. Lancelot, for one, had had the habit of popping in at the most inappropriate moments – knowing full well that Merlin was working – to ramble about missions, silly things that had happened to him in the curse of the day, Percival and generally whatever crossed his mind. The agent had been a hyperactive, trigger-happy, highly annoying man who'd never thought about the consequences of his actions. And yet, Merlin wished he were here now to distract him from his dark thoughts.

And then there was Galahad, of course. Or more precisely, Harry. It would take time, before he'd be able to call Eggsy by his codename. Merlin would get used to it, yes. But just not now. The image of the gun aimed at his, at Harry's head, was still too real, burned into his head. He could see it whenever he closed his eyes; felt the helplessness that had frozen him in that exact moment drown him all over again. Oh, what he would give to see Harry's face one last time, to hear his smooth voice whispering in his ear. Harry would walk up to him, lazily striding into Central with an almost arrogant self-confidence, and mock him about how the lack of human interaction – how sitting in front of his screen every day, worrying – had cost him his hair. After a lot of teasing and arguing, Merlin would eventually give up and Harry would drag him home with a triumphant smile, holding his hand innocently.

What a pointless thought, Merlin scolded himself. He really needed to get his shit together—he was the temporary head of Kingsman, for god's sake!

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Merlin returned his focus to his screen. Morgana was scheduled to report back soon and Lamorak should have landed by now. It would still be an hour before Bors would contact them from Sydney, hopefully bearing news about Gawain.

Merlin pulled up Lamorak's flight plan and saw that the plane had indeed landed in Tehran five minutes ago. Knowing the knight, he'd already be on his way to the rented Kingsman flat to look for Percival. The chance that the missing agent would be there was very slim, but it was as good a place to start as any.

The tech wizard was busy preparing to set up a safe feed to Lamorak's glasses when footsteps echoed in the hallway. He looked up just in time to see a breathless Roxy storming through the door.

She reached his desk, breathing heavily, and thrust the pair of glasses she'd clutched in one hand under his nose. "He's alive, Merlin, "she exclaimed shakily, gasping for breath. "I'm not sure how these work, I mean, I didn't even know one could do that, but I'm sure about the message, because who else could it be and he's in danger and we have no means to help him and–"

"Roxy," Merlin interrupted her quietly, laying a hand on her arm to calm her down. He didn't have the slightest idea what she was talking about. "I need you to take a deep breath and tell me – slowly – what happened, okay? Whatever it is, we can sort it out."

"No, you don't understand," she replied urgently, waving the glasses in front of his face. Just in that moment, Eggsy burst into the room, and stopped beside the tech wizard to catch his breath.

"It's Percy. He's alive and he was able to send us a message." She shoved the glasses into Merlin's hand. "Put them on and you'll see."

Merlin obliged and exchanged his glasses for the proffered ones. Roxy reached out to tap the side of the frame and Merlin's eyes lit up in recognition. Of course the transmitter had been his design, his last unfruitful attempt to convince James to wear his bloody glasses so he could do his job - which was, after all, saving their sorry asses, thank you very much - but over fifteen years had passed since then. However, Merlin hadn't forgotten how they worked.

He conjured a piece of paper from under his desk, pressed the frame closer to his ear and, with his free hand, wrote down a neat line of Morse code. After checking he hadn't missed anything, Merlin easily translated the dots and lines, while the younger agents leaned over his shoulder.

The message was simple, but clear. Three words. Nothing more. Enough to cause Roxy's heart to beat faster and her fingers tremble so hard that she had to bury them in the cushion of Merlin's chair to still them. Of course she'd known what the message said, but having it confirmed by Merlin himself was a lot worse.

Captured. Terorrists. Russia.

"Ok, would someone please share with the rest of the class?" Eggsy's interjected.

Merlin turned, holding up the glasses. "There's a direct transmission link between Percival's and the former Lancelot's glasses. If you turn it on and tap the right spot on the frame you can send a message in Morse code. The recipient receives it automatically as a high peeping sound near his right ear."

"Why didn't he contact us by using the normal comm?"

"Maybe it's broken. Or the signal was detected by his captors and they blocked it. Anyway, we need to find him soon."

"But how are we going to do that?" Roxy asked, a bit more composed. Giving in to panic now didn't help anyone.

"I'll talk to Lamorak, see if he can find anything in Tehran that might help us find out where they are taking him." Merlin answered, already typing away on his keyboard again. "Are you two done with the files yet?"

"No," Roxy glanced at Eggsy, hoping for backup to convince the quartermaster that they should concentrate all their efforts on finding Percy instead of sorting through files.

"Then finish doing so."

"But -"

"I know you want to help him, Roxy. But there's only so much we can do right now and Lamorak is more than capable to handle it. Sorting through those files is a great help for Morgana and we need to think of the world's safety right now. That's our priority."

Roxy sighed, defeated by Merlin's arguments. Of course he was right, but who could blame her for trying?

"I'll keep you updated on his progress, okay?"

She nodded thankfully and turned to leave the room, scooping up the glasses in the process. They were the only connection she had to her brother right now and Roxy would never forgive herself if she missed a second message from him. It was very unlikely though, since Percy would have sent a more detailed description in the first place.

Eggsy followed her after exchanging a look with the tech wizard, silently assuring him he'd keep an eye on her.

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