The Long Scream
Out of the original forty staff members who worked in Technical Support Specialists, only twelve remained. Q refused to let himself linger on that, knowing that once he started reading the list of the dead, he wouldn't be able to stop. Instead, he focused on the survivors, drowned himself in scent blocker, and threw himself headfirst into making their new underground set-up functional, if not yet habitable.
Mr "call me Bill" Tanner, Chief of Staff, was a quiet and unassuming beta with nerves of steel and he and Q hit it off immediately. Since Vauxhall Cross was now labelled "strategically vulnerable" - which was putting it mildly - they had relocated their base of operations to a series of tunnels that dated back to the 18th century. They used to be part of Churchill's bunkers, too, if the rumors were to be believed.
Men in dark blue overalls outfitted the entire place in a matter of days, installing new electrical fittings and long narrow LED lights. Cold steel tables were hauled down from what had survived the wreckage of HQ, along with chairs, filing cabinets, and even potted plants. There were wheelbarrow's worth of stacked files at every corner, people in suits and bandages rushing up and down every corridor, and a general atmosphere of panic, fear, and determination echoing throughout the empty caverns.
Having received the all clear from the paramedic, Q had immediately gone home, packed a suitcase, ushered Yana and Paco into their carriers, and then raced back to the still smouldering remains of MI6. As promised, Bill drove him to their new location, raising a solitary eyebrow at the sight of the hairless cats, but not daring to comment on it.
Q liked Bill.
They crossed over the river, drove past Westminster Abbey, around Waterloo Station, and finally ended up at the entrance to the Old Vic Tunnels. The very unguarded entrance.
"There's no security set up right now, but we're working on it" Bill said, leaning across to peer out Q's window as the metal gates slid shut behind them.
"Is that wise?" he couldn't help but ask, "I mean, if M's here, and there's no security, then…"
He flashed him a quick smile.
"Don't worry about M; she can hold her own. Rather dainty looking, admittedly, but her bite is far worse than her bark, and her bark is the stuff of legends".
"Do we know if she was the target?"
"Of the explosion?" Tanner leant back in his seat and shook his head. "They hacked into her files. They knew her appointments, they knew she'd be out of the building".
"They wanted her to see it".
"That was my reasoning, too". The beta shrugged as the car glided into the dark depths of the tunnels. "Either way, we're on war footing now. Whoever this was, they were able to breach the most secure computer system in Britain".
Q snorted, and then immediately clasped a hand over his mouth, mortified. Bill raised an eyebrow at him, thankfully more amused than offended.
"Something you want to say, Quartermaster?"
And-
Yeah.
Being called that was going to take some getting used to.
"That depends" Q replied.
"On?"
"On just how tenuous my current probation is".
Tanner laughed.
"Well, given that you're the only one that M trusts enough to take up the mantle, as it were, not to mind the fact Major Boothroyd always planned to make you his successor anyway… I think, short of punching the Prime Minister in the face, you could probably get away with anything right now and still have your job at the end of it".
He flashed the omega a mischievous grin.
"But then again, given M's opinions on the current PM, you probably could get away with punching him too".
"Good to know" Q replied dryly, "So, if I were to say something along the lines of MI6 doesn't even have the most secure computer system this side of the Thames and anyone with a phone, Internet access, and half a brain could hack it in thirty minutes flat, I wouldn't be fired?"
Bill gave him a sideways look.
"Speaking from experience there, Quartermaster?"
Q couldn't help but turn to him in surprise, because if this man didn't know, of all people and all positions, then did that mean that the previous M had actually kept his word?
"Chief of Staff, right?" he asked instead, "So it's your job to know everyone. Their names, their faces, their dynamics, what their favourite colour is, and how they take their coffee. You need to know everything about everyone that walks through those doors".
Bill gave a modest shrug.
"What can I say? I'm a people person".
"Am I not people?"
The beta studied him for a moment, before also turning in his seat to face him fully, despite the dim light of the car.
"I've read your file, of course, but there's a rather large amount of it redacted. Nice thick black lines struck through anything even remotely interesting, including not just your past, but your date of birth and real name, too… I have to admit, Q, I'm curious. Just where, exactly, did they find you?"
Q swallowed thickly and tried not to panic. He didn't want to lie, not to Bill, not to the gentle yet sturdy beta that hadn't so much as blinked when an omega was suddenly appointed to the third most important position in the entirety of MI-bloody-6. But he'd also left his past behind for a reason, and Hargraves had been just as adamant as him that Q should have a completely fresh start.
"... I had a phone, Internet access, and half a brain" he finally replied, "But it only took me ten minute to hack the system, not thirty".
"I can see why the Major liked you" Tanner said, "I'm guessing that there's a hell of a lot more to that story, but I also know that personnel files are usually censored for a reason… And that reason is usually rather illegal in nature".
The car slowed to a stop outside of a deceptively old metal door, but neither of them made any move to get out.
"Does M know? About you? Your past?"
"I don't know" Q admitted, not entirely sure and unwilling to ask, "I assume that the Admiral told her, before he retired, but either way… it doesn't matter. I'm here now. And I'm here to stay".
Bill's eyes roamed his, as if searching for any hint of deception or tells that he wasn't telling the whole truth.
"... Alright" he eventually agreed, "I trust that you're on our side, Quartermaster, but if I ever have reason to doubt-"
"-then I'd quite prefer you to simply ask" Q interrupted sharply, "instead of bursting in with guns blazing. I know you have no reason to believe me, Bill, but I wasn't the criminal in my situation".
"You hacked MI6!"
"Yes. I did".
He reached out and pushed open the car door.
"But now I'm going to use that knowledge to make her invincible".
The next few days were… hectic, to say the least. Q was ushered towards his new division, an empty room with nothing more than a couple of desks and a lonely looking monitor mounted on the far wall. That would have to change.
Getting the men in blue overalls down there was no problem, and once he'd explained what he wanted they were thankfully quick and ready to comply. M was pulling out all the stops to get MI6 back up and running, and budget proposals were no longer a problem.
The twisted irony of the entire situation was not lost on him.
Q dropped his suitcase by the door and let Yana and Paco out of their carriers to sniff around their new home for the time being. He distantly wondered if he could sneakily add cat food to the TSS branch's shopping list, before shaking his head and getting to work.
Truth be told, his suitcase held more electronics than it did clothes, but he could worry about that later when the safety of England itself was no longer resting partially on his shoulders. He sent a quick message explaining the situation to the TSS group chat, for those that remembered to check it.
For those that were still alive to check it.
Q shook his head once more, angrily this time, before reaching into his suitcase and pulling out his laptop. First things first, he seriously needed to update MI6's firewall.
Things were finally starting to look better, if still not very good. The TSS branch, at least, was capable of supporting its agents again, most of whom had ever-so-slightly freaked out when the entirety of MI6 had gone dark for a full three days. Thankfully they hadn't lost anyone, although Q was struggling somewhat when it came to actually interacting with said agents. He'd never been on Support Ops, after all, since Boothroyd had told him in no uncertain terms that he was to stay in R&D after the man saw what he could do with a pen.
The new Quartermaster's relationship with his agents wasn't exactly improved much by him telling them about the Major's death either. They were reluctant to trust him, and Q couldn't blame them. He was just a bodiless entity to them, a voice at the other end of a comms set, someone they had never seen or even heard of before.
Q honestly believed that he would have drowned in that first week if it wasn't for R.
R honestly believed that Q was "over exaggerating" and "being a complete drama queen".
They agreed to disagree.
Either way, TSS was slowly but surely regaining its footing. It also helped that Q had done most of the wiring himself, sprained-or-strained-or-torn shoulder be damned, and by the end of the first week, the large empty tunnel was looking less like… well, like a large empty tunnel, and more like a base of operations.
For a very strange company, perhaps, these were the times they lived in.
Q ate, slept, and breathed TSS for two straight weeks, letting R handle their on-duty agents while he himself managed the security and development side of things. He'd been given three rooms in total, the main office space which was arguably the most "modern" of the lot, a research area one floor below that came with a large elevator perfect for bringing cars in and out, and finally, an office, one wall of which was completely made of glass and overlooking the rest of TSS.
Q honestly found it stranger having his own personal space than he did managing the remaining workers. Although that probably had something to do with him actually knowing the survivors of his branch, whereas having an office was a complete novelty in every sense.
Still, he made it work. He had to, after all, M was right about England needing TSS more than ever, because despite their usual level of anonymity, they were the backbone of the entire damn organisation. He'd set up temporary accommodation in his office, which basically consisted of helping some workmen haul down a rather lumpy but soft couch for him to sleep on, and building a mini kettle out of some spare parts to fund his tea addiction.
It wasn't exactly glamorous, but he couldn't really bring himself to care. At least the cats were happy, having found over a dozen rats during their time in the tunnels, and once Bill realised that they were basically free rodent-catchers, he was sure to let everyone know that Yana and Paco were to be treated with the utmost respect.
It also helped that R absolutely gushed over them and to invite her ire upon yourself was practically a death sentence.
Everyone was working overtime trying to get things back up and running. Due to their current instability - and M's admittedly understandable paranoia - they couldn't reveal their new location to anyone, which also meant that Q couldn't hire workers to fill the void in TSS. They were operating on a skeleton crew at best, and only a handful of people at worst.
Which is why when Bill Tanner waltzed into TSS to send Q far far away from his new little hovel, he was more than a bit peeved.
"Bill, look around. How many people do you see right now?"
The beta gave him a bemused look but still did as told.
"... Four?"
"Four" Q confirmed, "There are four people currently responsible for the safety of MI6… I can't leave".
"I'm not asking you to vanish completely, Quartermaster" he huffed, "I'm simply asking you to deliver a package".
"Oh, well, if it's that simple, then get someone else to do it!"
"It's not just any package. And it's not being delivered to just any person".
"Then bring them here and hand it to them yourself!"
Bill rolled his eyes at the younger man's antics.
"I can't bring him here, Q, because TSS isn't fully set up yet. And besides, when was the last time you were outside?"
He immediately opened his mouth to argue back, before pausing, and then frowning as he tried to remember.
Tanner sighed.
"If you have to think about it, Q, then it's been too long. We need you to bring equipment to one of our double-0s. M's orders".
"A double-0?" he asked, surprise temporarily overriding his annoyance, "Which one?"
"Seven".
"Seven?! I thought he was dead!"
"Yeah". Bill gave a wry look. "So did I".
Q glanced down at the laptop in front of him. Truth be told he was just running code right now, and that didn't need his interference so much as it needed time. And besides, he'd never actually met a double-0 before, not that he'd met many agents full stop, but the double-0s were…
Well, let's just say they had a reputation.
He'd heard rumours, tons of them, about the top nine agents in Europe, if not the world. All alphas, of course, genetically stronger and more durable than over sixty percent of the population. And that was before their training.
He was… curious. The double-0s were almost as high up the food chain as he was, now, and that thought alone made his pause. TSS was split into two sections, research and development, which Q himself had always worked in, and support operations, which was comprised of thick-skinned betas and alphas able to stand the verbal abuse that most agents put them under while on comms.
Q had never directly dealt with their agents, mainly because he himself preferred inventing and coding over dealing with stroppy alphas any day, but he always got the feeling that Boothroyd purposefully kept him away from that side of TSS too. The man was far from a dynamicist, but even Q had to admit that the old man had the right idea not assigning any omegas to support ops.
The agents could be… harsh, for lack of a better word, not that Q could blame them, either, considering how often they were surrounded by bullets and danger and murder. And as much as he wanted equality for all dynamics, it was just a simple fact of life that omegas, betas, and alphas were wired differently and as such, had different tolerances and needs. Alphas could withstand more abuse than omegas, no matter how much he wanted to deny it, but they were also more capable of giving out abuse too. Biologically speaking, any sane omega would eventually be crushed under all the criticism and violence received on active missions.
And therein lay the problem.
Because even though the regular agents could get quite aggressive from time to time, they had nothing on the double-0s. Tough, elite, violent, vindictive, adrenaline junkies didn't even begin to cover it. And because of this, not even support ops were allowed to handle them. Every mission that the double-0s were assigned to had always been specifically run by Boothroyd himself.
In the very rare times that the Major had simultaneous missions to manage, or - god forbid - was out sick, then R had always taken over. An alpha herself, she had just enough balls to keep the lunatics in line, even though it always left her shaken afterwards. But if R couldn't handle them on a regular basis, then support ops sure as hell couldn't either, which is why it always fell to Boothroyd to keep the double-0s on target and not overly murderous.
Except.
Except Boothroyd wasn't the quartermaster anymore.
Q was.
"Had a sudden realisation, did we?"
He blinked, startled, and then gave Bill a horrified look.
"I'm in charge of the double-0s!"
"Yes you are, my friend".
He gave him a pat on the shoulder, and thankfully didn't mention anything when Q flinched.
"And I most certainly do not envy you for it".