Chapter 2
Sam's leg banged against something metal as he was roughly manhandled into a chair. He'd given up protesting this treatment after he'd been blindfolded and trussed up in the back of a vehicle. The hood was still over his head, and he had no idea where he'd been taken, save that the drive had gone on for at least a couple of hours, and whatever facility they were now in had metal floors and a cool temperature.
The hood was finally yanked off his head, and Sam squinted in the abrupt, harsh light after being in the dark for so long. He also had to shake the hair out of his eyes in order to see clearly. The first thing he noticed was a wall of computer monitors and stations that looked like some kind of high tech operation. That was in the background, though; he was sitting at a large table set in the middle of what appeared to be a conference room.
Dean was plunked down in the chair next to him and the hood removed from him as well. He blinked several times as he got his bearings, his gaze meeting Sam's for a moment. They both had their hands cuffed behind them still, and none of their escorts made a move to remove those.
A man in a suit—not the one that had been in the bunker—strolled toward them. He had lighter brown hair than the other, and a scruffy face, but not the hardened mien. In fact, he actually smiled at them.
"Hello," he greeted, also bearing a posh British accent as the others in this group. "Name's Mick Davies. And you are Sam and Dean Winchester, correct?"
"Where's Ryn?" Dean interrupted.
Sam craned his neck around and realized she wasn't with them.
Mick faltered for a second. "Ah, you must mean the phoenix. It's been secured. But since you brought it up, what are a couple of hunters doing with the Alpha phoenix anyway? You are hunters, yes? It's your job to hunt monsters."
"Ryn isn't a monster," Sam said, leaning forward earnestly. One of the guards grabbed his shoulder and shoved him back in his seat. He shot the goon an incredulous glower before turning back to this Mick guy, who appeared to be in charge. "Just because she's not human doesn't make her a bad person."
"How'd you know she was the Alpha phoenix?" Dean asked coldly.
"Our observation of her powers made it quite clear."
Sam frowned. When would they have seen Ryn use her powers? Wait, so these guys had been watching them? For how long? Long enough to gain entry to the bunker while they were all away and set up an ambush.
Sam shifted in his chair. "How'd you get inside the bunker?"
Mick took a seat on the edge of the table. "We have a key, of course."
"Excuse me?" Dean said.
"One key opens every Men of Letters bunker. And since we're on the subject, care to explain how you came to possess the one in Lebanon?"
Sam started to lean forward again, but caught himself. "We're legacies," he said, thrusting his chin to encompass Dean. "Our grandfather, Henry Winchester, was a Man of Letters."
Mick's brow furrowed dubiously. "Yet you're hunters."
"Yeah," Dean interjected, "that's a long story that involves a Knight of Hell and time travel."
Mick's brows rose. "Well, we have plenty of time to go over it."
Dean's expression was like granite. "Yeah? Well, how about you take off these cuffs, and then maybe we can have a civilized chat."
"Ah, yes." Mick gestured to the guards, who moved in and unlocked the handcuffs.
Sam rubbed his wrists. So they hadn't gotten off on the right foot, but maybe they could salvage this.
"And bring Ryn in here," Dean added.
"Ah, that's not possible," Mick replied. "The Alpha phoenix is quite the acquisition. Our scientists are very eager to learn from it, especially since they lost their other specimen."
Sam quirked a confused brow at him, and then all of a sudden it hit him. "Wait a second, you're the ones who imprisoned Elijah and experimented on him until he turned into a walking bomb!"
Dean flicked a surprised look at him, but then his eyes widened as realization dawned on him, too.
"That was an unforeseen complication," Mick said. "A mistake we intend not to make this time."
Sam gaped at him in horror, and if he wasn't keenly aware of the armed guards around them, he would have surged to his feet. "Mick, listen, we're all on the same side. Ryn is on our side. She helps us hunt monsters that do hurt people."
"All monsters are the same," the Brit replied. "They can't deny their nature." He shook his head. "But we're not here to talk about the phoenix. We're here to talk about you two. Starting with when and how you discovered the Lebanon chapter house, what you've done with the knowledge contained therein. Actually, we'll need to go over what knowledge the phoenix had access to at some point. And on that note, we need to know about any other monsters you've failed to take care of."
Sam just stared at him. Were they on trial? Who gave these assholes the right to come here and judge them?
Dean leaned forward, expression like steel. "You can go to hell."
Mick let out a long sigh. "Be reasonable about this, boys. I'd hate to have to resort to…other methods of questioning."
Sam's brows rose. So that was how it was gonna be. He shared a staunch look with Dean. Torture was nothing new for them. And Cas was still out there. He and Amy would be looking for them.
Sam turned back to Mick and echoed his brother, "Go to hell."
Mick worked his jaw for a moment before standing up with a sigh. He went over to the head of the table and pushed an intercom button. "Send in Lady Bevell."
Castiel extended his arms and reached through the space between the physical and incorporeal planes where an angel's wings were usually kept. The air bent and refracted slightly to his senses, revealing the coruscating bands of celestial wavelengths, though no one else would have been able to detect anything. He ran his hands gently over Amy's wing, his palms aglow with healing golden energy. Halfway down the wingspan, she flinched.
"Sorry," he said, lightening his touch as he carefully concentrated on that area. She was right; it was only sprained. Castiel poured a little more power into it before pulling back. He couldn't completely heal her, as her phoenix side inhibited his ability to do so, but at least he'd been able to soothe some of the pain.
Castiel stepped around to face her. "Better?"
Amy nodded. "Yeah, thanks."
Castiel turned to Claire, who was sitting at the study table with Sam's laptop. She'd decided to hack traffic camera footage, since human attackers wouldn't have vanished without a trace.
"Find anything?" he asked.
"Yeah," she replied, clacking away at the keyboard. "I found a train of black SUVs cutting through town. Looks kinda suspicious, plus the timestamps are close to when you guys were banished, so I'm tracing the license plates now."
"How far do you think they've gone already?" Amy asked.
Castiel shook his head, at a loss. "I don't know. Let's hope not far."
"Okay, traced the plates back to a rental agency," Claire relayed as she continued to click through the computer screen. "And the person who rented them was…" Her brows rose sharply. "A British corporation with diplomatic registry."
Castiel strode over to take a look. "And?"
Claire leaned back in her chair with a huff. "And dead end. The records are sealed beyond what I'm capable of hacking." She craned her head up to look at him. "This doesn't make sense. British diplomats kidnapped Sam and Dean?"
"And Ryn." Castiel's mouth thinned as he stared at the locked screen, barring access to the information they needed.
Amy came over and folded her arms across her stomach. "So what do we do now?"
Claire closed the laptop down. "I'll talk to Jody. Since these are human bad guys, maybe we can go through human law enforcement channels to get the info we need." She stood up, but hesitated. "You two gonna be okay here?"
Castiel straightened. "I doubt they'll be returning. They apparently got what they came for. But we'll be on alert, just in case."
Claire nodded. "Okay. Call me if anything happens." She leaned around the edge of the table to give Amy a quick side hug, then gave Castiel a piercing look that promised trouble if he didn't watch his back. He almost smiled at her in response.
She packed up the laptop and made her way out of the bunker, the heavy door slamming shut behind her.
Castiel swept his gaze around the library. While he believed the intruders wouldn't be back, the safety and security of their home had been violated. Three of their family members were missing, and Castiel felt their absence like a gutted hole in his stomach. He needed to be doing something, needed to be taking action to find them, not sitting around waiting.
He turned to Amy and held out his hand. "Come on. There's someone else we can reach out to who might be able to help us."
She hurried forward and took his hand tightly. "Who?"
"Crowley."
With a flap of his wings, he flew them to Massachusetts and the abandoned asylum that the King of Hell used as his throne away from home. He landed outside, knowing they'd probably tripped some wards, but went ahead and knocked on the front door anyway.
It swung open, revealing two demons in suits, eyes black pits. Their shoulders were tense and poised for a fight, but Castiel wasn't worried; nearly every demon knew of the angel in the trench coat.
"We need to see Crowley," he said with a low growl, automatically angling himself slightly in front of Amala.
The demons exchanged uncertain looks before they took a measured step back.
"This way."
Castiel put his arm around Amy's shoulders and guided her in ahead of him. Even though he remembered the way to the throne room, he still followed their escort through the dingy corridors until they came to a chamber lit with wrought-iron candlesticks placed all around the room. The demon 'court' was assembled along the perimeter, and against the back wall was a throne where the King of Hell himself sat with a bored expression on his face as he looked over a stack of old parchments. Upon seeing them enter, however, Crowley straightened and shoved the papers into the hands of his attendant.
"Castiel." His eyes glinted. "And dear Amala. To what do I owe this surprise visit?"
"We need help," Castiel admitted.
Crowley arched a brow. "Kick another hornet's nest? The last one didn't go so well."
Castiel worked his jaw at the veiled reference to Ramiel. He'd nearly died on that hunt. But Crowley's quick, last minute thinking had saved him. The demon had even sacrificed a very powerful weapon in order to do so, which Castiel hadn't yet had the time to fully contemplate or appreciate.
"We came out of it all right. Thanks to you."
Crowley hummed and then got to his feet. "Very well, what is it this time?"
"Ryn, Sam, and Dean have been taken," Castiel explained. "There were humans waiting for us at the bunker when we got home. They used an angel banishing sigil on Amy and me, and by the time we got back, they were all gone."
Crowley glanced at Amala. "So, an angel banishing sigil works on you. Interesting."
She quirked an affronted look at him. "Why is that interesting?"
He shrugged. "You're a new species, my dear. It would be wise to learn your own limitations so you can work around them." He turned back to Castiel. "If these were humans, I don't know what you expect me to be able to do."
"We hit a dead end when their trail lead to a British company with diplomatic registry," Castiel went on, and then gestured vaguely. "I thought…you do seem to have operatives everywhere. Can you…find something?" He realized that Crowley's means of gathering intel would be to have his demons possess someone, which Castiel wasn't fond of. But as long as they didn't stay in the innocent humans, he could swallow it.
Crowley had fallen silent, a ruminative crease in his forehead. "British diplomatic registry," he repeated thoughtfully. "Armed with banishing sigils and access to your bunker…if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say that sounds like British Men of Letters."
Castiel straightened. "What?"
Crowley nodded slowly. "And if I'm right, that's very bad news for all of us."
"Wait," Amy interjected. "Are you saying there's more Men of Letters out there? I thought they were wiped out."
"That was just Lebanon's chapter house," Crowley replied. "Which happened to contain most of the North American members. Still, the British faction is another beast altogether. Thanks to them, all of Britain is free of monsters and demons. If one tries to set foot there, they're neutralized in less than an hour."
Castiel's brows rose in disbelief. "Why have we never heard of them?"
Crowley shrugged. "Because until recently, they stayed on their little island. I can only imagine what brought them to this side of the pond, though it appears obvious it was something you lot did."
"We haven't done anything," Amy protested.
"Yes, well, even if that's true, I wouldn't call these people very reasonable."
"What would they want with the Winchesters and Ryn?" Castiel pressed.
"Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum? Who can say. But Mother phoenix…" Crowley trailed off and flicked a regretful look at Amy.
Castiel's chest constricted at the ominous note. "Crowley, we need to find them."
"Would these British Men of Letters take them back to England?" Amy asked, voice tremulous even as she tried to keep up a brave face.
Crowley cocked his head noncommittally. "They might, though I doubt right away. They came all the way out here for a reason."
"Can you help us find them?" Castiel asked urgently.
Crowley nodded toward the demons in the back, who began to disperse. "No promises," he said.
Castiel's jaw tightened in understanding, and he inclined his head in gratitude. He'd long gotten past being irked at having to work with the King of Hell, but his helplessness in this situation still ate at him. Short of flying back and forth across every inch of the country—which would take months—he didn't know what else do to, but with Amy's wing still mending, he wouldn't be leaving her alone for a single moment.
Crowley stepped close to Castiel and lowered his voice. "They probably won't kill Ryn. Phoenixes are rare, and the British Men of Letters like to…study."
Castiel stiffened, pieces slowly clicking into place. Elijah had accused them of being allied with those who'd imprisoned and experimented on him…because they had access to the Men of Letters bunker. He'd said the Men of Letters had tortured him. They'd just assumed he was referring to a rogue group who had also been wiped out by Abaddon. But if it was, in fact, the British counterparts, and if that was what was in store for Ryn…
Castiel swallowed hard. "Work fast."
Crowley made a noise in his throat and moved away.
Castiel turned to Amy, who was watching them with wide, fearful eyes. He quickly went over to pull her into a hug.
"What do we do now?" she asked softly, voice breaking.
Castiel closed his eyes and tucked her head under his chin.
He didn't know.