AN: So I feel like I rushed the last chapter a bit . . . I don't know. Whatever. Thanks to my loyal reviewers! I own nothing, not even a Hero's Clothes.
Camp Life, Chapter Fifteen
Progress/Leader Exchange Program
The Echelon agent lays back down on the carpet after retriving a bag of chips from the table nearby. He readjusts the camera so it's pointing straight into the window across the street.
The carpet is in a small apartment thirty-nine stories up in the middle of Hong Kong. The weather is somewhat cloudy, but for now sunshine warms the small room.
The Echelon agent readjusts the camera angle again. He's been tracking this group of monsters and reincarnates for months now, but it's the head honcho, who just walked into the room he's watching, that he wants most of all.
After all, she killed his brother.
Hades rubs his eyes wearily and motions with his hand. "How many more?"
"Ah - we haven't yet been able to locate Orion, my Lord. Mr. Ned Kelly is refusing to assist unless we move him up to The Isles. Julius Caeser foisted me off on one of his attendants, but I'm hopeful on that account, my Lord; he hasn't been able to conquer anything in a few millenia. I'm sure he is feeling the ennui."
"Tell Ares's infernal son if he doesn't fight I'll put him in The Fields of Punishment myself. I know you can talk Julius around, I'm not worried about that. And I know where Orion is; I'll talk to him soon."
William de Ropp folds up the scroll in his hands and bows. A seemingly middle-aged man with a neatly-trimmed mustache and a stiff manner, he is Hades' personal assistant and also the only Echelon agent who is not, in fact, alive.
De Ropp had, in life, been one of Britains most mysterious and effective spies against the Nazi regime.
Whether that was a step up from personal assistant to the God of the Underworld was up for debate.
"As you say, my Lord," he murmurs. "I shall continue my search."
Hades waves him away and sighs. He fervently hopes that his son's little group would hurry up. This gathering-up-an-army business was exhausting; he hasn't had to deal with so many of his citizens ever since the palace's janitorial staff had gone on strike.
He stands from his throne and wonders if he could persuade his niece to come help with this next one. He's going to be difficult, Hades just knows it. The ones who get constellations always are.
Charon's boat finally drifts to a stop, tapping against the dock.
Jesse glances around at the dirty white tiles of the small, dimly lit room. The dark water laps against a small dock. The only exit is a steel door with 'Emergency Exit' written in glowing letters above it.
"Here you go, children," scowls Charon, "Now get off my boat."
"Gosh, you're such a great boatman, Chiron!" Nico exclaims admiringly, dropping a golden drachma into Charon's outstretched hand. "When I grow up, I wanna be just like you-"
"It's Charon, you infernal little brat!" The ferryman roars, giving Nico a swift kick in the rear, punting him off the boat.
Rust follows the son of Hades, sneering at Charon and handing over a drachma. Drew copies him, flipping her hair over her shoulder and taking his hand - the non-prosthetic hand. His fake left hand, once metallic, shiny, and vaguely robotic looking, is now encased in a layer of faux human skin. It looks and moves just like a real hand, the only difference being it's cold, like he'd stuck it in ice for an hour.
Lily and Jacob go next, each handing Charon small silver twenty-denarii coins. Danny disembarks, then Laurel, and finally Jesse and Amanda.
Nico gives Charon one last snarky wave, then Rust opens the door and they step out into a small, closed shop.
"The problem is," says Percy, "that we don't really know what we're doing."
The demigods circled around him consider this.
"We need more info on the enemy. We need to know what they want. I hate sitting around like this as much as you guys. And if the gods aren't going to answer our prayers, we need to decide for ourselves what we're going to do. So Annabeth and I are going to go meet with this Ana girl."
He lets this sink in. No one says anything.
Percy looks around at the waiting faces, then mimicks a high-pitched voice: "No, Percy! Don't go! It's too dangerous! You could get hurt!"
Silence. Someone snickers, then coughs to try and disguise it.
Percy frowns. Annabeth rolls her eyes.
"Percy, bro," says Will patiently, "It's you. We aren't worried."
Jake Mason grins. "Yeah, just save some for us."
Clarisse glares at Percy. "If your punk ass takes out more than a quarter of those monsters, I'll take you out, Jackson."
Percy rolls his eyes. "Thanks for your support, guys."
The unofficial meeting breaks up, the demigods going their seperate ways. Connor remains behind, because Travis is standing there unmoving, tapping his chin with a finger.
"Connor, my dear brother," he says momentously, "I have an idea."
"Okay, troops," Rust says brightly, "The most important factor in winning a battle, besides the element of suprise, of course, is camoflauge."
He hands out packages to the members of his group. "These will keep us undetected and unmentioned during our stay in Her Majesties Kingdom."
Amanda opens hers. "A red-an'-gold tie . . . a cloak . . . and a pair of taped-together glasses? Are you freakin' kidding me?"
Nico cheerfully switches his all-black Slayer ensemble for a bow-tie, a tweed jacket and a white button-up shirt. His expensive, shiny leather loafers gleam even in the dim lighting. He adjusts the maroon bow-tie in the cracked mirror. "Sweet."
"Harry Potter and Doctor Who?" Laurel groans in disbelief. "You're an idiot."
Jacob Van Isaac examines his American Revolution-era British Infantry uniform under the light. "This will make me look like a half-boiled lobster."
Jesse rips open the wrapping on his package, and pulls out a floppy green hat from the top of the pile. "Uh . . . what is this supposed to be?"
Steven glances at the package and mutters a curse. "Sorry, Fairway, I handed you the Hyrule disguise package. Hold on a second . . . Yep, here we go. This one's yours."
Jesse reads the label on his new package. "Robin Hood?"
Percy gives Annabeth one last, quick kiss. Then they begin the long walk out into the large plain that seperates the two opposing armies.
The plain is dotted with scrubby little trees and bushes, and behind the Giant armies' tents and antiaircraft weapons, Mount Olympus rises tall and beautiful and ominous. The sky is a clear blue dotted with a few white cotton-candy brushes of clouds.
In the middle, between the two armies, stands Ana Massri, tall and brown-skinned and pretty, leaning on her big spear. Next to her stands a small kid with a rifle.
When they draw close enough to speak, Ana gives Percy a once-over and an amused expression crosses her face. "You're the one my sister Elizabeth is so hot and bothered about . . . ? Hmm."
Percy gives her a weird look. "Who?"
Ana rolls her eyes, ignoring Annabeth's laser-eye-beams-of-death. "Never mind. What do you want? I don't have all day."
Percy is about to answer when a rock flies into his field of vision and hits the kid with the gun, who goes down with a grunt. Ana's eyes widen with fury, but before she can say anything or go for her spear, Travis and Connor tackle her and quickly begin tying her up. When they finish, the Stolls stand and turn to Percy and Annabeth.
"Hey, we got her- HEY!"
Annabeth snarls at them from behind the black hood over her head. Hayden and Elizabeth glance at each other, then stare down at their bound, struggling half-sister.
"Later," says Hayden brightly.
Once Drew convinces Rust that the disguises aren't necessary, and maybe they should only take weapons they can hide under their coats (Rust grumbles but Nico assures them he can manipulate Mist enough to fool the metal detectors), they finally step out of the closed shop and into the London Underground.
After a bit of walking, they find the train they're looking for, and they hop onto the line headed for Westminster. The train is full but not crowded, and even though Steven glares suspiciously at everyone around them, no one seems to find a bunch of teenagers in fashionable, expensive-looking winter coats (They had raided Hades' wardrobe before they left the Underworld. He wasn't called The Rich One for nothing) and speaking in American accents curious.
When the train reaches their stop, the demigods disembark and head for the surface. The morning fog is beginning to dissipate, and the sun is peeking through the clouds, though the air is still chilly.
"So where are we going?" asks Danny, yawning.
"A bit outside the palace, I think," says Rust briskly. "I've got a good plan for getting us in there and finding the piece. We can grab a bite and then get started."
He pauses in thought. "I should warn you, guys- there's a reasonable possibility that the enemy knows we, or somebody, may be coming. Khione seemed to think I was going to die when she left, and you guys killed by those skeletons, but it would be smart of them to then try and collect the Doorway pieces before the gods can send anyone else."
The group nods grimly, but Nico grins. "But this time we know, too. so it's a pretty level playing field, if you ask me."
Rust nods approvingly. "That's the spirit, di Angelo."
When the black hoods come off, Percy and Annabeth find themselves in a large tent, tied to hard wooden chairs.
Hayden and Elizabeth scrutinize them curiously.
"Hmm," says Hayden, "definitly an Athena child, this one."
Elizabeth leans forward and gently runs her finger down Percy's jawline. "Not as tall as I thought, but . . . " she smiles wickedly, "that's okay."
Annabeth snarls wordlessly, but Hayden doesn't deign to remove her gag.
"I have to admit," he says thoughtfully, "this worked much better than I would have thought. Who knew you honorable Greeks would try and doublecross us too?"
He chuckles. "Well, now that we don't have to worry about Ana, we can do pretty much whatever we please with you."
Annabeth pales. Percy fixes a cold, icy look on Hayden.
The son of Gaea catches the looks and smiles. "Oh, never fear, lovely Annabeth, I have no intention of forcing myself on you. I'm not your grandfather. But I hear your mother is quite fond of you . . . I wonder how much she'd give to have you back safe and sound. And from what Ana says, you're the only one with any brains on the other side of the fence. It's a nice coup, any way you look at it."
He turns to leave the tent, then looks over his shoulder and adds, snickering, "Though I'm not sure my big sister is going to leave your boyfriend . . . unspoiled."
Elizabeth laughs huskily, now tracing her fingers down Percy's chest.
She leans forward to whisper something in his ear, but whatever she was going to say is interupted by a loud crash.
She whirls around to see her brother crashing to the ground, a look of suprise on his face. Agamemnon steps over Hayden, a sneer on his face. The tent flap opens again, and the young boy with the rifle on his back strides in, a look of rage on his face. Wes pulls out the pistol on his belt and points it at Elizabeth.
"Out." The word is soft and deadly and tense.
She looks torn between snapping at the child much younger then her and obeying that furious voice regardless of his age, but when he thumbs the hammer back Elizabeth scampers out.
He doesn't watch her go, but steps forward and rips the gag off of Annabeth. She splutters but isn't sure what to say. At a sign from Wes, Agamemnon complacently places himself in front of the door.
Wes regards Annabeth for a moment, then says, "Where's Ana?"
She doesn't like the way he's still holding that revolver. A moment ago she was sure the worst thing that could happen is that bitch would take Percy away somewhere, or worse, take him right in front of her. But now she's not so sure - this kid looks seriously unhinged.
"I don't know," she says cautiously, "I would assume back at our camp, but I don't know . . . we didn't plan to kidnap her, that was two of our-"
Wes turns away and rips Percy's gag away, ignoring her as if he'd forgotten she was even there. Percy stares at him calmly, as if this is something he does every day. If Wes is unnerved by this, he doesn't show it.
"Where is Ana?" he asks again.
Hades finds him in one of the larger caverns below the Fields of Asphodel. Ostensibly the tunnels lead to Tarturus, and no one short of the Big Three should venture in there or be swallowed up, but the truth was that you had to go down much farther then this to be in any real danger.
Real danger for a god, anyway.
Orion is striding through a large room. A pair of terrified cyclops are trying to flee, but the Hunter casually tosses his spear. the weapon takes the first cyclops in the back and completely penetrates him, slamming into the cyclops running before him; a large female. The cyclops lady wails, "Nooo! Spare Ma Gasket, please-" and disentegrates.
Orion sneers. "They keep trying to escape, and they think begging me is going to help . . . " He chuckles darkly. "Is it true those Giants were trying to wake Tartarus?"
Hades nods tiredly. "Yes. They had my son, you know- trying to use him to find a Labyrinth entrance. Except, of course-"
"Ole' Daedalus is gone." The Hunter chuckles. "Ah, well. we can't all be as smart as Lady Athena."
He pauses. "You haven't seen Artemis lately, have you?"
Hades winces. Normally he really doesn't care about other peoples feelings, but he quite likes Orion, and he (along with most of the Olympians) really thinks the Moon Goddess is being a little harsh. It had been three millenia, after all. He managed to get Persephone in bed three days after that little . . . mishap . . . with that girl in Los Angeles last year. Artemis really needs to get that stick out of her ass, he thinks, not for the first time.
"I have," he says carefully. "She . . . sends her regards."
Orion sighs and nods sadly.
"Listen," says Hades, "I need a favor from you."
Orion glances at him shrewdly. 'It doesn't have anything to do with that weird exodus thing happening in Elysium, does it? Just the other day I saw that cute little Amelia Earhart girl corral up a few demigods- Marie Curie and that Ts'ao Ts'ao fellow, I didn't recognize the others- but whatever you're doing, it looks big."
Hades smiles. This is why he like Orion- the man is so intelligent. All the Gods spoke English now, of course, and a good amount of the demigods in the Underworld now had picked it up, but Orion, unlike most of the Greek-era heroes, spoke perfect modern English, and knew plenty of the demigods and heroes that had come later then him.
"It is big," Hades says, smiling slightly. "And I think you're going to enjoy it."
The two servants stand at rigid attention on either side of the massive, grand white doors leading to the Queen's study. Dressed in splendid red livery and and shiny black boots, they cannot help but overhear the voices coming from inside the slightly open doors.
" . . . are you sure?" the Queen's voice drifts through.
"Yes, your Majesty," says a much deeper, male voice. "I'm sure."
". . . make sure he . . . leading back to you."
"Yes, your Majesty."
"Very well . . . worked too hard?" The Queen sounds tired.
"No, your Majesty. I'm in your service, as always."
The servants can almost hear the smile in the regent's voice. "Of course, Mr. Bond."
The taller servant twitches slightly. The shorter blinks.
Footsteps come from in the room, and out steps a tall man with blond hair in a military cut, ice blue eyes, and a tailored black suit. His eyes sweep over the servants, missing nothing. What he sees gives him pause for a second: the servants seem younger than the norm, and the taller of the two, a young man with short dirty blonde hair and dark eyes, radiates a cool sense of danger. The shorter, a pale kid with dark hair, seems somehow menacing.
The man in the tuxedo decides they must be some new bodyguards he isn't cleared to know about, and strides for the door.
The two servants watch him go.
"Huh," says Rust, scratching his head thoughtfully. "Whaddya know?"
Nico shakes his head. after a minute, the Queen, attended by a chamberlain, exits the study and heads down the hallway. Neither give the servants a second look. Or even a first.
The minute they are out of sight, Rust and Nico exchange looks and slip into the study.
As soon as the two idiotic twins drag her into the Olympian camp, Ana is locked away in a small, dark room in their grounded ship.
From then on, for the rest of the day, they completely ignore her. She can hear various people yelling at the sons of Hermes; at first it was amusing, now it's just annoying.
Rising from her chair, the only furniture in the tiny room, she kicks the door irritably.
"Hey!" She yells. "I'm hungry! Give me some food! Or is your plan to starve me to death?"
No answer.
But a few minutes later, the door creaks open, and filling it is a cheerful-looking Hispanic kid with a mischievous expression on his face. He's carrying a tray loaded with mashed potatoes, a country-fried steak with white gravy, and rolls. A glass of iced tea completes the heavenly vision. The kids' eyes crinkle when her stomach rumbles. She flushes, but for some odd reason she doesn't feel like killing him.
"You look hungry," he says kindly. Presenting the tray, he adds, "Compliments of Chef Leo."
Ana takes the tray, sets it on her lap and grabs the knife and fork and digs in. In between bites she asks, "Who's Chef Leo?"
The boy grins and poses. "Why . . . moi."
She quirks an eyebrow at him. The food is warm and delicious, so much better than what the her army has. "You made this?"
The boy smirks. "There's no need to look so surprised."
He leans back against the wall. "So- you know my name. Whats yours?"
Ana almost laughs. Is this their interrogation strategy? Flirt with her? Or - she remembers what she had been told about Percy Jackson and his groupies. There were a few ones to watch; though Wes reported that the three known Echelon agents, Steven Rust, Gardner Peck, and Micheal Yew, were apparently not in the enemy camp. But overall, they are apparently just kids with swords. Is he actually trying to chat her up? She's his enemy!
"Ana," she says, watching him smiling at her. "Ana Massri."
He smiles wider. "Hello, Ana."
She almost wants to groan, but she's also very happy to be fed and have someone to talk to. So she smiles despite herself and says, "Hello, Chef Leo,", and they both laugh.
"Not here," says Steven, opening the final cabinet in the study.
"Not here either," says Nico glumly, searching the other corner. He plops down on the Royal sofa and runs a hand through his hair.
"We're gonna have to split up," says Rust briskly. "Remember- if anyone asks you anything, speak in a British accent. Stay inconspicous."
"That's classic, coming from you."
"Shut up. Remember- it's a stone bar, about six feet long, one or two inches thick, with glyphs all over it. Get that, and leave immedietly. The other will tell me when you get out. And vice versa."
They both nod. Rust claps Nico on the shoulder and ghosts into the hallway, looking both ways first. Nico squares his shoulders, takes a deep breath, tries to remember all the Harry Potter movies he's seen; because that's the only exposure (besides the last twelve hours) he's had to British accents, and follows him.
A few twisty hallways later, filled with paintings and suits of armor but no Doorway pieces, Nico comes to a large room that looks inviting. Peeking in, he espies a long table with lots of chairs - some kind of conference room, and empty. He slips inside.
The room is sunlit and pleasant. Paintings - landscapes all - cover the walls. A forgotten tea service is sitting on the table. The room doesn't appear to have been used in a while; and there is no sign of the Doorway.
He turns to go, and stops dead.
"You," he says, staring in shock.
Rust continues through the corridors for nearly an hour with no luck. There are plenty of servants in the palace, so nobody gives him a second look.
He rests his hand over his side, where underneath his uniform is strapped a semi-automatic pistol loaded with celestial bronze rounds. On the other side he has an identical weapon with regular ammunition. He wants to be ready for anything. A couple of knives complete the ensemble. He chuckles slightly, very glad that no one metal-detected or searched the servants.
He checks the rooms in this hallway, to no luck, then moves on to the next one.
The first room on the left in this hallway is some royal's study, with towering bookcases, an ancient escritoir and a glass case with a slender stone bar, inscribed with strange glyphs, inside.
Rust grins widely and and reaches for the case, when the person that's been following him for the past twenty minutes tries to slide a knife into his ribs.
Steven turns easily, grabbing the knife-hand wrist and elbowing his attacker in the face. The man grunts and tugs his hand free, clutching his nose.
Crazed eyes glaring out between his fingers, the man hisses, "I'm gonna kill you slowly for that, you bloody wanking cunt."
Steven sighs. Well, he's a local at least, judging from the accent. But the dirty brown jacket and stained trousers, and the wide-brimmed dark hat suggest an assassin from Gaea, not a Royal guardsman or bodyguard of any kind.
"You were apparently going to kill me anyways," he says. "Who are you?"
The man smiles eerily. "In life, my name was Joshua Hedgelock. But folk sometimes called me . . . Jack." He grins insanely, revealing yellow, dirty teeth.
Rust sighs again. Jack. The Ripper, presumably. He wonders if the man was (Is? this reincarnation stuff is confusing) a demigod, or just some insane guy that Mother Earth thought might come in handy-
He almost misses the knife flashing out again. Kicking swiftly, he breaks Jack's hand and leans down to retrieve his ankle knife. As the Ripper flies backward, howling in pain, Steven slides forward and jams the weapon into his assailant's side.
Jack curses at him from the floor, trying to staunch the blood flow with his good hand.
Steven smiles and raises his knife to his mouth, sliding his tongue down the flat of the bloody blade.
Eyes glinting, he whispers, "I'm no helpless prostitute in the alleys of Whitechapel, Mr. Hedgelock."
The Ripper stares up at him in horror.
When Wes finally leaves the tent, coldly informing them that he's going to barter them for his sister and if it doesn't fall through, he'll kill them himself.
Annabeth relaxes finally. The tent is dark, but she can see Percy try and get more comfortable in the chair.
"You okay?" he asks quietly.
"Yeah," she says, glad to finally be able to talk to him. "Same old, same old."
Percy snickers. The cool evening air filters into the tent, a welcome respite from the earlier heat of the day.
"Fucking Travis and Connor," says Percy after a moment.
Annabeth nods, but adds, "Though without them, we'd be kind of screwed with this prisoner exchange thing."
Percy chuckles. "True."
He pauses. "I'm glad you're okay, Wise girl."
She smiles. "I'm glad you're okay too, Seaweed Brain. And that you didn't get molested."
They both laugh.
"When do you want to try and bust out of here?" He asks a moment later.
"In a minute. I'm almost done with my ropes. How 'bout you?"
"They tied them really tight on me. I'm going to need help."
"Okay."
They both jump. That voice wasn't Annabeth's.
They hear the sound of fingers snapping, and a ghostly blue light fills the tent.
"Dad?!"
Poseidon smiles cheerfully, reclining on a beach chair. "Percy!"
"What are you doing here?!"
"Helping you, of course," the god says brightly. "I'm great with knots."
"Why didn't you get us out earlier? My arms feel like they're going to fall off! Literally!"
Poseidon pouts. "But you two were having such a nice moment!" He winks at Annabeth and gives her a surreptitious thumbs up.
"DAD!"
"Stop yelling, son. They can't hear you, but it makes you look like a flounder with it's fin stuck in a crack."
Annabeth shakes her head and smiles, watching father and son argue. She's glad this is finally over.
"Me," says Thorne casually, sitting on the edge of the conference table. "How's your miserable life been, demigod? No, wait, I forgot- I don't care. I mean, you're going to die soon anyway." His mismatched eyes gleam.
Nico stares at him for a moment, then starts to laugh. The manticore blinks.
"I think," says Nico, gasping for breath, "I think you've forgotten- It's been a few years. I'm not the helpless little kid I was when we last met."
Thorne snorts. "Please, boy. I fought Hercules once, really gave him a run for his drachmas too. You're already dead."
Nico sneers. "Every monster says they fought Hercules. And you are the one who's already dead."
The son of Hades hops up onto the table. Holding his hand in front of him, he concentrates.
With a ghastly roar, a spiral cloud of inky black protoplasm swirls about his open hand, finally coalescing into a Stygian Iron longsword.
Nico grins savagely.
Thorne quails and transforms, but not quite fast enough.
Rust is sprinting down a staircase, Doorway piece in one hand, Beretta 9mm in the other, when Nico appears below him. The pale boy has his sword in hand, and his red servants uniform has been replaced by a Bullet For My Valentine shirt.
"What happened?!" Steven demands, leaping the final few steps and running side by side with his friend.
"Little monster problem," says Nico, "no big deal. Why is it, every time I see you, you're always covered in blood?"
"Not mine this time," the son of Aeolus grunts. A gunshot sounds from behind them, and Rust points his gun behind him and fires a few times, trying not to actually hit the British policemen.
They burst out into the sunlight from a side entrance, into a stretch of lawn. Policemen, or possibly military personnel, dressed in black riot gear (No funny hats here), have already secured most of the palace, but not, Rust hopes-
Right on cue, as they reach the street, a white van roars up to them, skidding onto the side walk. The sliding door opens, revealing Laurel and Danny, who both scream at them to hurry up.
"Dracanae behind you!" the daughter of Ares shouts. Steven looks over his shoulder and empties his magazine at the slithering women.
They dive into the van, and from the drivers seat Amanda turns and gives them a thumbs up. "Ready to lose some Po-po's and monsters?"
"Oh shit," groans Nico, "Why is she driving-"
The van roars away, pursued by angry policemen and angrier monsters.
Hades leans back on the futon in his chambers with a sigh. The futon is on a balconey overlooking the gardens of Elysium.
Persephone sits softly next to him and lays a hand on his chest. "Almost time?" she murmurs.
He nods tiredly.
She smiles at him, and his heart warms a little bit. He's leaning up to kiss her when there's a knock on the door.
Persephone puts a finger on his lips, smiling devilishly, and says, "Come."
De Ropp enters, his suit rumpled, and his glasses slightly askew.
"My lord," he says, bowing, "Julius Caesar has agreed to be your general. He says Alexander, Demosthenes, and Erwin Rommel will be his lieutenants."
Hades nods, but senses his faithful retainer has more to say.
De Ropp looks apolegetic. "My lord, I'm sorry, but . . . your son. He's already gone. Hirohito and Benito are still here, but . . . "
Hades nods wearily. He had already expected this, honestly.
"Okay," he says. "Thank you, William. You may go."
When De Ropp is gone, Persephone wraps her arms around him and kisses his cheek.
"It's the last straw from him," whispers Hades. "I'll have to put him down myself."
Persephone tightens her embrace, but nods fiercely.
Micheal Yew watches the rain come down. He has barely moved from the patch of carpet where his camera is all day. The rain and the nightime make it nearly impossible to see anything, but he doesn't feel like moving.
A quiet buzzing sound makes him reach for his phone. The text reads, CONTINUE RECON. STRIKE FORCE EN ROUTE. DO NOT RESPOND.
He smiles and reactivates the camera, rain be damned. He can't wait to tear this bitch a new one.
AN: So there 'tis. I know very little about the interior of Buckingham palace, so if anybody has been there and it's nothing like that please forgive me. I guess that's it . . . Review please! :)
Next Time: Castor's group and Rust's squad team up to get the next Doorway Piece, while more shenanigans ocur with the leaderless armies in Greece. Meanwhile, Micheal Yew takes on his brother's killer with a little help from a god.