A/N: So yeah, I know this is very late. I really have no excuse. Sorry. Anyways, here is the next chapter. And you really should thank Khadija, for reminding me that this should have been put up weeks ago!
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing you recognise.
Now, onto the story!
-o-O-o-
They hit a block pretty quickly, once Yassen obtained the blueprints. Alex's original plan had been to bug the building, and indeed the air vents that passed through almost every room would have been perfect for this. Unfortunately, he had overlooked the fact that while normally he would have access to an almost infinite amount of inconspicuous microphones and cameras, here he had almost none, certainly not enough to bug the entire building and what they did have were supplied by the resistance from what they could steal, or develop themselves. Definitely not up to the standard Alex had been used to with MI6.
But, he thought, looking at the plans, there might be an alternative. He sighed. He would have to talk to Matt. What a fantastic start to the day.
Scowling, he silently manoeuvred himself of the double mattress he was sharing with Yassen and Tom, because only Alex was trusted enough by Yassen to sleep in such close proximity to him – not that anyone apart from Alex would trust Yassen enough in turn – and Tom because he'd been last up and had chosen the mattress with the most room left. As Alex was probably the least broad of the men in there, that was his mattress. At least, that was the reason Tom gave. For some reason, Alex was convinced Tom just liked to irritate him.
Yassen stirred as Alex's weight was removed from beside him, but with a hushed reassurance from Alex, he was drifting off again, rolling over to take advantage of the extra space.
Slowly, Alex began to pick his way across the many occupied mattresses, to where Matt's red hair was just visible above a thin blanket.
"Matt," he hissed. "Matt! Wake up!"
"Whazza...? Alex?" murmured Matt, rolling over. Apparently he was too sleepy for animosity.
"You're a computer hacker, right?" whispered Alex, kneeling down next to the older man so he wouldn't wake the others. Matt had somehow managed to commandeer one of the few, sought after, single mattresses.
"'m a 'puter pr'gramm'r," slurred Matt, somehow still managing to sound vaguely insulted.
"Same thing, isn't it?" asked Alex, slightly irritably.
"Not exac'ly."
"But you can do it, right?"
"Yeah..."
"I need to you to hack into the security of the building and get us live feeds."
Matt gripped his wrist and stared at him, apparently shocked out of sleep.
"Talk about it in the morning," he hissed. "Can't spring something like that on a guy when he's sleeping."
"You mean night," said Alex, with an amused glance over the single dirty skylight that lit the gloomy attic.
Matt growled. "Go to sleep."
Alex sighed and began to withdraw only to find his wrist firmly trapped by the now-sleeping Matt.
He didn't seem bout to let go anytime soon.
"Bugger," cursed the blond, with feeling.
Fruitlessly, he tried to tug his stolen appendage, but all the effect it had, was to make Matt mumble and turn over, dragging Alex with him.
Alex sighed as he felt Matt cuddle up to his shoulder. Tomorrow – later today - was going to be incredibly embarrassing.
-o-O-o-
Darkness found Alex sleeping on a single mattress – and really, he'd much rather get squished between two others if it meant he wasn't sleeping on this sorry excuse for a mattress. He honestly had no idea why they were always the first to go.
Unfortunately, Matt had refused to release him and it was only in the last ten minutes that Alex had been woken up by his bunk-mate's slow return to consciousness.
He could tell the moment the redhead woke from the way he stiffened.
"Care to let me go now?" asked Alex, dryly.
Hastily Matt released his wrist and pushed himself away.
Blushing like mad, he met Alex's amused gaze.
"Sorry," he muttered.
"Doesn't matter," said Alex, waving him off and trying not to laugh. From the scowl on Matt's face, he didn't think he had been too successful.
By the time the others were woken, Alex and Matt were sitting opposite each other on the mattress, discussing the best way to gain access to the building's computer system.
"Anyway we try it, we need more equipment than we have!" exclaimed Matt, as Yassen approached.
"Come on, we have to be able to get the equipment somewhere! You're not telling me that the entire black market collapsed because of the war?"
"Of course not," said Matt with an irritable shake of his head. "But do you know where we could get that stuff? 'Cause I sure don't!"
Not having ever really had reason to learn the ins and outs of the American criminal world, Alex turned to the Russian for guidance.
"Any ideas?" he asked.
Yassen frowned. "There were a few. For electronics, in this area there were a few small time dealers, and a few who did made-to-order items, though I think most of them will have gone out of business, at least for the duration of the war, or will have raised their prices so much that only billionaires could afford their wares. Although…" he trailed off, apparently thinking, "there is Madame Weatherill."
-o-O-o-
Madame Weatherill, according to Yassen, was what was often referred to as an eccentric. The Russian explained that she was quite possibly the best in her field and was the perfect choice because she would not have been recruited to fight in the war. There was also the fact that her fee would not necessarily be money, something that they had relatively little off.
Of course, this led to a variety of problems such as not knowing what her fee would be, and how to persuade her to work for them at all, as she was notoriously picky about her clients. She operated in a grey area of the law: not a criminal herself, but unable to deny that most of her clients were, and would use her products for illegal activities. It gave her a large amount of power in the market, as most of the others had crossed firmly into illegal years ago.
In Alex's opinion, Madame Weatherill was short, strict and, judging from her outfit, had watched too many films of the stereotypical Rosa-Lee gypsy. She also had a slight obsession with cats.
He diplomatically didn't mention it and followed the woman through the small flat, trying not to stare at the electrical equipment that covered every surface – those that hadn't become the temporary bed of an evil eyed moggy, at any rate.
Matt was with him, as was Yassen, as this was his contact. The rest had stayed behind to make it easier for them to sneak through.
Personally, Alex would have preferred to leave Matt behind, if at all possible - the man had really no idea about how to sneak anywhere, and had almost gotten them caught more than once – but as he was the person who knew exactly what they needed, he really was necessary. And he was proving the point exceptionally well as he talked to Madame in what may as well have been a foreign language, for all Alex could understand. If he ever got out of this, he was getting Yassen to teach him about computers.
-o-O-o-
They arrived back a few hours later, having apparently gotten everything they needed. There was still the question of the price to be settled, but Yassen had assured them it would not be unreasonable, although given the fact that it was an international contract killer saying this, Matt was a little worried. He shrugged the unease aside as Alex opened the door, only for it to triple as the teen tensed.
"What's wrong?" asked the blond, finally stepping forward to let Matt and Yassen in behind him.
"Alex," said Tom, slowly, his face pale and eyes red. "It's Steve…"
-o-O-o-
Erm, please don't kill me? I'll get the next chapter up as soon as I can, promise! Really, really sorry about the cliff hanger!
Btw, something has been troubling me for a while, so I decided to ask your opinions. How do I end this story? How would you like me to resolve the situation with MI6, because frankly him simply meekly going back to them is unrealistic, and I somehow doubt they would just let him walk out again. So, suggestions?
And what did you think of the chapter? Review and tell me, please?
Oddx