A/N: ivefoundmygoldfish(melonpanparade) corrected my mistakes again (which we should all thank her for)! There's also a paragraph in here that she suggested and I didn't change because it was too well written and beautiful.
Chapter Six: Bad News
"Merlin." Lamorak greeted the quartermaster with a nod, his projection on the screen in Central flickering a bit. The furniture in the background indicated that he was screening from the flat in Tehran, probably using the Kingsman laptop Percival had taken with him. The older agent looked sober, his normally kind face and bright eyes overshadowed by recent events.
"Lamorak, it's good to see you in person," Merlin replied, trying to ignore the coldness that stole into his heart at Lamorak's dark gaze, who was normally the one telling them to cheer up. Nonetheless he was glad that the visual feed was working again. Due to earlier security problems with the network he'd only been able to contact Morgana, the foreign branches, and the other agents via phone; a rather annoying necessity. A lot of things were easier done face to face.
"I see your flight went well." Lamorak had been forced to use public transport since the jet had been dismantled, extending the time it took him to fly to Tehran by quite a few hours. It was a miracle he'd arrived at all, since the world was still in chaos.
The agent snorted. "Well, traffic's hell, you know, but I managed." His face turned serious again as he continue, "Percival wasn't in the flat, nor does his description fit unidentified hospital patients or corpses. But from the look on your face I assume you already knew that."
Merlin nodded soberly. "Unfortunately, yes. We received a coded message a few minutes ago. He's been captured and taken to Russia, presumably for questioning."
"That's bad news indeed, although him being still alive is a good thing after all," Lamorak replied, his face darkening even further. "If you agree I'd like to take on the mission, starting by paying the company a visit in search for information."
Grateful for Lamorak's willingness to investigate further, Merlin nodded and quickly searched his computer for Percival's mission feed. "Take the plane originally assigned to Percival, if it's still in one piece. I've already sent you the coordinates and mission file. A handler will be assigned to you and will help you bypass security. And burn the flat; we don't know who we're dealing with, yet."
"Understood." Lamorak leaned forward to turn off the feed but paused, a distant look in his eyes. "Oh and Merlin..."
"Yes?"
The agent met his gaze, some of the familiar warmth returning to his eyes. Being the oldest knight – which usually came with a calmness and understanding the younger agents lacked – Merlin had started to think of him as the eye of a storm, holding the knights together and providing wisdom where it was needed.
"I think I speak for us all when I say that you are doing great." He paused and smiled reassuringly. "We all trust you. Just thought you might need to hear that."
"Thank you," the quartermaster replied, a bit baffled but grateful for the encouragement.
"I'll report back as soon as I've landed in Moscow," Lamorak said shortly before the feed went dark.
Merlin bridged the time until Morgana's call by briefing a handler on Lamorak's mission and sending Roxy a quick note that Lamorak was on the case. He also hacked the marketing firm Percy had gone to, but without finding anything of significance. Lamorak's skills – and Merlin had no doubt his experience with getting people to talk would come in handy – would have to be enough to obtain a lead to Percival's whereabouts.
The screen flickered, announcing an incoming call. The quartermaster accepted it and leaned back in his chair to watch the image of a woman appear on the screen.
"Good to see you, Morgana," Merlin greeted the head of medical.
She was in her early forties, her brown shoulder-length hair braided back as to not get in the way. A faint, yet visible scar, ran from her collarbone to her right ear—evidence of her capability to defend herself. And a reminder of a chaotic mission in Libya long ago, where Merlin had had the misfortune of being a handler.
"My King," Morgana said, bowing her head slightly, the glimmer in her eyes betraying her serious tone.
"Very funny."
"Sorry," Morgana apologised mischievously, a huge smile spreading across her face. "I just needed to see that look on your face."
"How's the mission going?"
"I'm afraid I bear bad news." The smile left her face, completely replaced by a serious look. "Valentine seems to have a hand in this, Merlin."
He started to object, to insist that this was impossible, but Morgana held up a hand to stop him. "I know he's dead, and I'm well aware of the price that was paid for his death, but there is no doubt Valentine is a piece of the puzzle – a rather huge piece, in fact, and we missed it. This is the connection between the dots we've so desperately tried to make sense of.
"Kay found an old file of a customer; the address matches with one of Valentine's companies. And there are encrypted emails from Valentine Corp. that Bedivere was able to retrieve. Since they are both still deep undercover I wasn't able to freely talk to them, yet, and I'm hesitant to approach them in fear of having their covers blown."
She let out a heavy sigh, and looked him straight in the eye. "Someone else is pulling the strings in the background, Merlin. I'm sure of it. And I think we should fear them. Although Valentine might be gone, the threat clearly isn't."
Downcast by her report, but too tired for the shock to fully sink in, the quartermaster simply nodded in agreement. Morgana's fierce gaze helped to lift a bit of the responsibility from his shoulders, though, and he was eternally grateful for her support. If he were honest with himself, it was starting to wear him down.
"How's your work doing?" If a cure could be found, eliminating the threat would be a lot easier.
"My team and I are trying to find an antitoxin, but that's impossible without a sample of the original substance. We are doing our best to get our hands on information concerning the company and the toxin; we've even called our furthest contacts into action, but our opponent is guarding their secret very well." Morgana sighed, brushing a few loose strands out of her face. "If you want me to come back to HQ, I will."
Merlin shook his head. "No, it's fine. You're needed in Germany. Besides, your expertise is of more use there than anywhere else. Should a medical emergency occur I'll call you in."
She looked at him with her motherly stare, all kind and sympathetic. Her gaze seemed to go right through him, leaving Merlin vulnerable. She knew very well that he knew her medical advice hadn't been her reason for offering to return to HQ. And Merlin had a feeling Morgana also knew that he was aware she had seen through his intentional misinterpretation of her words.
Feeling himself slowly but steadily crumble under her gaze, Merlin quickly looked away.
"How's Guinevere?" Morgana asked, letting the unspoken argument between them rest. For now, at least. "She contacted the German branch to reassure me she was uninjured and would continue to lead the HQ infirmary during my absence. But I know she's been tending to some of her Kingsman colleagues. How's she coping?"
Merlin pictured the young woman with his inner eye, remembering how shy yet determined she'd been as she fought for her position amongst the medical staff. Morgana had taken the girl under her wing after a rather remarkable stunt in the infirmary that had saved a knight's life. "Fine, I think. I debriefed her together with the rest of the employees and she has reported back to me twice so far, informing me of the well-being of her patients. I'll see to her if you wish."
"I would appreciate that."
A tall man appeared on the screen, wearing a headset and carrying a Kingsman tablet. Merlin recognized him as a member of the tech department, and one of the German handlers who was responsible for assisting missions. The foreign branches worked as self-reliant agencies that gathered intel and infiltrated relevant companies and organisations, undertaking a great deal of the scientific research outside HQ. Only if a mission of international importance arose did a knight step in to take the lead, counting on the guidance of the employees of the foreign branch.
After acknowledging Merlin with a respectful nod, the man turned to Morgana and showed her something on the tablet screen. The way he was shielding his microphone with his free hand indicated he was currently handling a mission and probably asking Morgana for further instructions.
Whatever he said, she seemed to agree and the handler disappeared out of sight again. Morgana looked at him apologetically. "I'm afraid I have to cut our conversation short. It seems Bedivere has found a way to grant us access to the toxin and is now requesting backup, favourably someone who has deeper chemical knowledge."
There was no doubt who she was talking about. "Be careful," Merlin said, nonetheless confident Morgana was able to take care of herself.
"I will. And Merlin—" Morgana paused momentarily, as if deliberating her next words.
Merlin winced inwardly. As much as he considered Morgana his friend, and at times, a confidante, this was one topic he wasn't ready to talk about—with anyone.
She smiled, and Merlin watched as the harsh lines of worry and fatigue on her face softened into something kinder, something more understanding. Her shoulders rose and fell as she sighed heavily. "I'll see you at the funeral."
Merlin had no time to answer, because Morgana swiftly motioned for the person behind the screen to end the transmission, leaving Merlin alone.
The quartermaster did his very best not think about her last words, ignoring the painful ache in his chest he'd come to see as a constant occurrence now. Instead, his gaze wandered over the paperwork on his desk, resembling the endless pile of tasks demanding attention, with a dejected frown.
His fingers itched for something to do. A piece of tech to work on or simply a pair of broken glasses to repair; anything would be better than filling out paperwork and being reduced to his computer. But it simply wasn't done. He could only return to his work once the new Arthur was selected. He'd even entertained the thought of living at HQ – or more precisely, his work station – for a few days to make up for the time spent apart from his precious projects, Morgana's scolding eyes be damned.
Remembering his promise, Merlin heaved himself up and left Central to visit the infirmary. He could not, however, keep himself from observing the technicians bent over their tables in the working area. Lucky bastards.
The infirmary was rather full compared to the normal few patients and on occasion, an agent who had been unfortunate enough to be restricted to bed rest under Morgana's watchful eye. Thanks to his position, Merlin had a very good impression of how many employees Kingsman had lost to V-Day and he shuddered at the thought of what would have happened if Valentine had lived just a few minutes longer.
Since he didn't immediately spot Guinevere anywhere, Merlin slowly went from room to room in the hope of finding the young woman. Just as he was talking to one of his staff members – a brilliant woman who'd helped him calculate the measurements for the Kingsman umbrella and had been hit by a car – a hand grabbed his shoulder.
"How nice to see you down here, Merlin," a female voice said. "Do you need patching up or were you just bored?"
"Neither, I'm afraid." He turned around, motioning vaguely up to where he presumed Central was, and added, "You know there's always work, especially when you're the temporary head of this madness."
Guinevere chuckled and gestured him to follow her to her study. After quickly bidding farewell to the woman lying in the white bed, Merlin followed her out of the room.
Once the door to her study had been closed, the doctor asked worriedly, "Has there been an accident?" A few strands of her short, ginger hair fell over her concerned eyes, and in that moment she reminded Merlin of Morgana, though Guinevere was merely 28 years old.
"Oh no, nothing serious. At least nothing that would require your help." He didn't mention Percival's situation, not wanting to burden her with the knowledge. "Morgana called; said she would stay abroad a little while longer. She has transferred all authority to you in the meantime."
"I know, I talked to her on the phone."
"It's a great act of trust, you know. If Morgana thinks you're suitable then you are, and I have utmost faith in her judgement."
His speech had the intended effect. The young woman stood a little taller and nodded in understanding. It was important that she knew she could come to him with whatever it was that bothered her, indifferent to her secondary status. Merlin knew of the condescension with which Chester had treated his employees and had no intention of adopting it. All too often the late Arthur's sneer had been directed at Merlin.
A peep near his right ear stopped him from saying anything further and he shot Guinevere an apologetic look before tapping the side of his glasses. "Yes?"
"Merlin," Roxy's excited voice sounded in his ear. "We think we've found something of interest in the files. My German isn't perfect, though, so I wondered if you could come and take a second look."
Infected by the young agent's excitement and relieved that they might finally have a breakthrough, Merlin quickly thanked Guinevere and hurried out of the infirmary. "Stay where you are, I'll meet you in the library."
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