Finn was with Holley when it happened. He was the older agent, he should've seen this coming. God, the string of images are engrained in his mind. He can't get her face out of his head.
Fuck.
He let out a frustrated exhale, his calloused fingers running through strands of graying hair as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. If he hadn't looked old before, he certainly did now. The weariness etched into his face, the bags under his eyes like shadows, the creases deepening along his forehead, all painted a picture of a man burdened by this colossal failure.
His jaw clenched involuntarily as his eyes moved downwards to his open dress shirt, dark and angry bruises lining from his abdomen to his chest. His tie slung around his neck, the weight of the flimsy material holding his shoulders down.
What the fuck is he supposed to tell Mater?
He buttons up his shirt, fixing his tie. His driving gloves are still on as he picks up the keys to his Aston, along with his earpiece and phone. He grabs his suit jacket from beside the door and makes his way out. They had been on a mission in Cologne, Germany, when everything had gone awry.
He parked his car in the private garage of the hotel they booked themselves into before it happened. Still, the beautiful piece of machinery gets a lot of car fans taking pictures of it. It gleams with the sunlight peering through the gaps in the wall.
Finn puts his earpiece in, connects it to his phone and dials Mater. He might as well make this call sooner than later. Don't pick up, don't pick up-
"Mater?" Finn's voice carries a sense of seriousness and urgency as the call connects. "I need to talk-"
"Finn! Well, shucks, if I knew you were ringin' I would've-"
"Mater," Finn says again, more assertive to get Mater to listen. He gets into the car, putting the thing in drive and exiting the lot. The sun is beginning to set now.
"Finn?" Comes the puzzled voice over the line, concern edging into his tone. "Are you okay?"
Finn's grip on the steering wheel tightened beneath his gloves. He makes a right turn onto the Autobahn, the hum of the engine resonating throughout the car. "No, I'm not," he confesses, the words heavy with the weight of his guilt. As Mater drew a breath to speak, Finn cut in. "It's Holley."
That stunned Mater into silence. Finn can hear muffled footsteps on the other end of the line. "She, uh," He pauses, shifting his new Vantage into fifth gear. (His beloved DB5 had met its end a few months prior.) "The mission didn't go very well."
There was a moment of tense quiet. Finn felt Mater processing the words on the other end. "What happened, Finn?"
"She was taken," Finn takes his hand off the gearstick, rubbing it across his face as he presses his foot to the floor. "I couldn't stop them."
"By who?" Mater's voice is louder now, probably attracting his friends. He can hear McQueen's voice in the back, followed by a loud hush. "Who did it?"
The speedometer reads around 125mph. The V12 is so loud he can hardly hear himself think. "Klaus Clutch, he's the head of this drug Kingpin we were surveilling," Finn takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Mater, she was under my watch."
Finn realized he probably shouldn't be having this conversation while driving at breakneck speeds on the Autobahn. "It ain't your fault, Finn," Mater reassured him, a note of conviction in his voice. "You're gonna find her, and you're gonna' bring 'er back to me."
Finn wishes he had Mater's confidence right now. He hangs up before he can say anything else.
"Nine o'clock," Holley stated from across the coffee table, her green eyes meeting his and subtley nudging her head in that direction. He turned and looked, as discretely as possible, spotting the target they were after.
Well, not a target per se, but someone they could use to get to more important information and specific details on the next drug buy.
The target was walking down the path on the opposite side, his face matching the description they were given. Finn looked back to Holley, who was packing her laptop into his bag.
"Good spot," He said, taking the last sip of his coffee and putting a tenner underneath the saucer. They crossed the road after the target, who turned left into an alley. Finn looked over at Holley, "what's our disguise?"
He's testing her, and he knows she knows. "Two best friends, we met at a bar. You were the manager who offered me a job. You're gay and I'm engaged to an Irishman named Colm. You're a hopeless romantic and I want to turn my life around, so we run away with fifty euro to both of our names to Germany."
"Good," He straightened his jacket, turning the same the left the target took. It was dark; the sun had just risen, casting a low shadow over the alleyway. Finn squinted, spotting a group of men.
They were suspiciously close to each other. Either doing something absolutely obscene or dealing. Finn internally bet the latter. Their target turned to face them, an angry look on his face.
Finn positioned Holley behind him, just behind his right leg. He's always been a bit protective of her, for whatever reason he doesn't know.
"Get out of here, tourist!" Said their target, which Finn recalled to be some guy named Hanz. He had a strong German accent, the English words pronounced with more syllables than needs be.
Finn still moved closer, holding up his hands in fake surrender. "I'm so terribly sorry, sir, but I have appeared to lost my way," He apologized with the most stuck up posh accent he could imagine. "Can I just get some directions?-"
When Hanz was within range, Finn threw a punch, knocking him backwards- spurring the other four dealers into action. Whichever way Finn looked, more of them appeared, far more than he and Holley could take on.
Still, Finn McMissile never backed down from a fight he started, even a losing one. There were five angry German men on him, backing him into a corner. In the blink of an eye, he pulled his pocket knife which was encased in his sleeve, and shanked the guy he was closest to.
It slightly deterred the rest of them as Finn pulled his supressed handgun from his belt, shooting the bald guy first. Some guy grabbed onto his back and Finn kicked backwards to the wall of the alleyway, to loosen the grip of his assailant. He elbowed his ribcage, turning the face him, bringing his blade up the guys neck.
He turned away, shooting the other two running at him as he slit his throat. It was only now, in his periphral, when Finn spotted Holley in some trouble. Two guys double her height and weight stood above her.
Finn ran towards her but was stopped by a gunshot ringing out in his ears, followed by a piercing pain in his thigh. "Agh, you bastard!" Finn hissed, catching the attention of Holley.
Finn will never forget the look on her face just before he was hit in the back of the head, knocking him unconscious as he fell forward onto the wet pavement. It was a mix of horror and grief and regret.
Before he even hit the ground, Holley was gone.
Finn hung up on him. Mater slumped back against the wall, his phone slipping from his grip as a wave of despair washed over him. He lifted his gaze from the screen, his eyes meeting the concerned and worried expressions of Doc, Lightning, and Sally, who had gathered around him.
Doc motioned for Mater to sit on a nearby tyre, his firm hand resting on Mater's shoulder for support. "Mater?" Lightning kneeled down to be at eye level with his friend. Mater's fingers fumbled with his cap, twisting it anxiously between his hands. "What, Mater?"
Sally's eyes glistened with unshed tears, and though Mater couldn't see Doc's face, he could sense the same feeling from the way Doc's grip tightened on his shoulder.
Mater's voice wavered as he began to speak, the weight of the situation settling heavily on his chest. "Holley... she was on a mission in Germany," he mumbled, weakly raising his phone as if it held the answers. "Finn called... she's been taken."
A flicker of concern passed over Lightning's face as the realization sunk in. "Taken? As in abducted?" He clarified.
Mater nodded solemnly, tears tracing their silent paths down his weathered cheeks. "I can't do nothing 'bout it," Mater whispers, staring down at his phone on the sandy ground. "She's halfway 'cross the world."
Doc leaned in closer, his voice a soft whisper near Mater's ear. "You can," he reassured Mater. "You can plan her birthday. Think last year, but bigger."
A faint, melancholic chuckle escaped Mater's lips, and Lightning managed a small smile despite the grim circumstances. "Think about it, Mater. If you were to catch a flight to Germany right now, she might already be found by the time you land. Finn will find her."
Mater's optimism, always a guiding light even in dark times, began to shine through. With the unwavering support of his friends, he found solace in their words. "You're right," he agreed, a glimmer of hope returning to his eyes. "I just don't know what I'll do if he doesn't."
As Finn slowly regained consciousness, the searing sun bore down on the nape of his neck. He pressed his palms against the gritty ground, struggling to rise to his feet.
"Fuckin' hell," he groaned, gritting his teeth as pain shot up his leg. Glancing down, he inspected the wound on his thigh. It appeared to be a flesh wound, a relief compared to what it could have been. He instinctively brought his fingers to the back of his head, only to find them sticky and wet.
Then the whole situation had dawned on him.
It was a setup.
Hanz.
Holley-
"Shit!" Finn hissed, his fists clenched in frustration as he hobbled out of the narrow alley into a quiet street on the outskirts of Cologne. The street wasn't bustling, but a few passersby cast curious glances in his direction. He can't blame them; he'd probably do the same.
He saw his car first, the light blue Aston with accents of grey along the exterior. The Vantage was very pretty, but he can't help but miss his Bond car (Holley compared him to James Bond on a regular basis).
Then he spotted Holley's car parked next to it. Her purple mt-r. His chest squeezed at the thought of her being at the hands of this rotten criminal. Anger bubbled in him when he got into his car. Catching his reflection in the rearview mirror, he saw dirt and grime smeared across his face. Blood trickled from a cut above his left eyebrow, obstructing his vision.
Finn took out his burner phone from the glove box, messaged a secure number (his boss at MI6), 'Clutch stole the stars.'
(Clutch = Klaus Clutch
stole = agent is compromised
the stars = Holley Shiftwell)
Sending the message was the first step. Backup would be on the way, but time was of the essence. Holley's safety hung in the balance, and Finn had no leads. Hanz had eluded capture, and their best chance at getting to Clutch Kingpin was slipping away.
He probably shouldn't be driving now. With whatever grade concussion he has, its impairing his senses and causing a throbbing pain around the base of his skull - around the conjuncture to his neck. Still, he put the key into the ignition on his third attempt and drove the five minutes back to his hotel to clean himself up. If he stalled on the way, that was no one's business.
Once he stumbled up the four flight of stairs to his room, which was next to Holley's, he forced himself to change his clothes no matter what pain he was in. He peeled off his dirty top, his muscled torso littered with scrapes and bruises. Little souvenirs of the ordeal.
He showered and got a fresh suit, his head feeling as though it was being unscrewed as he stared angrily at himself in the mirror. The sun was going down soon.
"No, you bastards!" Holley's voice cracked with desperation, her cry echoing through the dimly lit alley. She struggled against the firm grip on her arms, her heart pounding in her chest. "Finn, get up, please!"
A hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her plea before it could fully escape. Her eyes widened in fear as she stared into the cold, unyielding eyes of her captor - Hanz - she remembers him now, his lifeless eyes on the mugshot they were given. Tears welled up in her eyes, mixing with the dirt smudges on her cheeks as she was forcibly dragged away, her legs barely able to support her trembling form. Her gaze remained fixed on Finn's motionless figure on the ground, a painful knot forming in her chest.
The alley seemed to stretch on forever as she was hauled toward an awaiting van. Her struggles only intensified against Hanz, a mixture of panic and determination giving her strength even as her limbs felt weak and battered.
Her heart sank as she was almost flung into the back of the van, the cold metal floor biting into her skin. She landed against the wheel cover, a cry escaping her lips as pain shot through her side. Her wrists were swiftly bound with thick rope, her fingers curling against it.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Holley muttered under her breath, her voice laced with frustration and a hint of terror. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, her mind racing as she tried to process the dire situation she was in. The last time she was kidnapped was when the whole Allinol fiasco happened - she was trapped inside Big Bentley. But then, she at least had Finn in the same situation as her.
Holley doesn't have Finn now - he's back in the alleyway, knocked out cold for the foreseeable future.
The van's doors closed with a heavy thud, plunging the small space into darkness save for a dim overhead light that cast eerie shadows across the interior. Holley's breaths came in ragged gasps as she stared at the imposing figure seated across from her. The man's face was a mask of indifference, his cold gaze sending shivers down her spine.
"You just made a big mistake," She threatened, meeting the man's eyes. "An agent from MI6 taken from one of the largest drug trades in Germany? You'll have Interpol on your ass in no time."
The man just smiled, crossing his arms as her feeble attempts to make him uneasy fell flat.
Holley's heart raced as she held his gaze, her mind racing to find a way to outmaneuver him. She needed to find a crack in his composure, a hint of doubt that she could exploit. She leaned a bit closer from the van floor, her voice lowering to a dangerous tone. "Do you really think you can escape the web of international law enforcement? You may think you're untouchable now, but trust me, that won't last."
The man's lips curled into a smirk, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. Holley's pulse quickened, a mixture of frustration and unease tightening her chest. "You know what, sweetheart?" His voice dripped with a heavy Dutch accent. "I'd suggest you send a message to your boss. Tell him that it's time to start scouting your replacement, because you, my dear, are as good as a dead agent walking."
Holley's jaw clenched, her grip tightening on the ropes that bound her wrists. The man's demeanor grated against her nerves, his words sending a surge of anger through her veins. It became apparent that he was reveling in her discomfort.
Her mind drifted back to the image of Finn unconscious against the gross alley floor. If there was one thing that Finn valued as much as his cars, it was his meticulous suits. Damage to his suit would likely infuriate him more than anything. She hoped, delirious, that if there was any reason to save her, it'd be to kill these bastards who dirtied it.
"You might find it funny now, seeing me all bound and at your disposal," She spat, her hands curling around the ropes on her wrists. "but remember my face, boy, because it will be the last thing you see."
The mans radio crackled on his belt as his eyes faltered for a mere fleeting moment. She internally grinned. The frequency was all messed up but Holley caught one thing - his name, Hendrik.
Her moment of half-arsed joy dissipated when Hendrik reached across to behind her shoulder, grabbing a gas mask held over her head. The only one.
Shit.
Hendrik smiled at her as he puts on the mask, a gass trickling from a vent in the corner. It wasn't long before her consciousness gave out, too.