The Question Room
Q stared down at the file in his hands with a frown.
A man stared back at him, a beta; tall, brown hair, and scruffy looking. Halim had handed the folder to him this morning, and he was equal parts annoyed and embarrassed to realise that he'd forgotten he'd ask the minion to do so - to gather all the information about Boris Grishenko that he could.
Not that it mattered now, of course, given that James's little Monaco explosion had killed the man, but still, Q found it useful to be kept up to date about anyone who'd had contact with General Ourumov in the past.
It also helped with some of his unanswered questions, as Halim had quickly found out that Grishenko used to be the commanding officer at Severnaya; the Russian satellite hub in Siberia that Alec had investigated all those months before.
Now, at least, they knew how Ourumov had gotten into the place, as well as who had provided him with the activation keys and the control disk for the satellite's EMP, except-
Except Ourumov had given up on that plan. Initially, the general had wanted to use the satellite to wipe out every computer in England and use that distraction to steal the reserves from the Bank of London - which easily held a few hundred million pounds.
But then his chemical factory successfully created the hormone drug and he turned away from all of that and focused on its production in Cuba. According to Alec, Ourumov had given up on the whole international-bank-robbery plot altogether, which meant that he no longer needed the satellite activation keys he'd gotten in Siberia…
So just what the hell had he been doing in Monte Carlo with Boris Grishenko?!
Q shook his head with a heavy sigh and flipped the file shut, tossing it up on his desk for the time being.
They had made a lot of progress over the past few months, but there were still far too many unanswered questions for his liking. Thankfully, however, James had also brought him back a gift from Monaco, and that gift was currently sitting in handcuffs in basement level three.
And so were his two favourite terrors.
Turning his attention back to the monitor in front of him, he watched as both James and Alec slowly walked around the chair in the concrete room, like two wolves circling a trapped rabbit.
Janssen, to be fair, was holding up under their silent yet intense scrutiny quite well. Her hands were cuffed behind her, and both her arms and legs were zip-tied to the metal chair. Someone from medical must have paid her a visit when James had first brought her in, since the blood and dust had been cleaned from her face, and a long, narrow strip of gauze covered the wound on her forehead.
It didn't make her look any less intimidating - in fact, the scowl and the stitches made her seem even more vicious than before.
Q reached forward and turned the volume up on his computer.
"-hate to sound cliche, Colonel, but we can do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way" James was saying, "And it's not the hard way that you're thinking of".
She flashed him a coquettish smirk but remained silent.
"Come on, Xenia, you want this to be as painless as possible, right?" Alec cajoled, "Just tell us where your old pal Ourumov is, and we'll leave you in peace".
She almost reminded Q of Edie with her dark gaze and kohl-rimmed eyes, but there was something altogether unhinged about this woman that not even the double-0s seemed to replicate.
"We know about the chemical factory in Havana" James continued, "We know about the testosterone drug and its side effects. We know all about the Janus Crime Syndicate and your part in it. And we know about the helicopter, too - as well as how you murdered Admiral Farrel of the Canadian Armed Forces just to steal his ID card… What we need from you, is a nice neat little confession about what Ourumov is going to do next. And you're not leaving this room until we get that confession".
"You'll have to do better than that, gentlemen". She smiled, coyly, at them and Q felt his blood pressure rise. "You MI6 agents are so predictable. The good cop, bad cop routine? Really?"
"Tell us what we want to know, and you won't have to deal with any cops" Alec countered, "All we want is information. Things don't have to get… bloody for us to stop whatever madness Ourumov has planned".
"Madness?" Her eyes were fever bright, her teeth far too sharp as she grinned. "You haven't seen madness! You have no idea what we're capable of!"
James raised a solitary eyebrow as he finally came to a stop in front of her.
"Enlighten us, then. What's the endgame here?"
She leaned forward in her seat, insomuch as the restraints allowed her.
"The general has a vision for a new world order with Russia on top, and this hormone drug is just the beginning - a tool, to bring the powerful to their knees".
"You're talking about war".
"I'm talking about genocide". Another flash of feral teeth. "That is, if the world governments don't give into our demands of course. And we won't stop until the world bows to our will".
"Enough of the theatrics! Where's Ourumov? What's his next move?"
"I'll never tell you!"
A split second later, James had his fingers buried in her hair as he yanked her head back and delivered a vicious backhand, a move so sudden and unexpected that it had Q flinching back in shock.
Janssen, on the other hand, simply laughed - a deranged, somewhat hysterical sound, even as blood pooled up on her split lip and the side of her face reddened from the blow.
"Is this the famed MI6 hospitality? You'll have to try harder, gentlemen".
"Time's running out, Xenia" Alec remarked, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed, "You can either cooperate or face the consequences. Where is Ourumov?"
"I'll never tell!" she hissed at him, "Especially not to the likes of you, ты лиенцский казачий козел!"
Oh.
Oh no.
She did not just-
"Do me a favour, Jamesy?" Alec asked calmly, "Give her another one for me, would you?"
"Gladly!" he growled, obviously having understood the insult, and his next punch had Janssen's head snapping back so hard that for a split second, Q wondered if he'd actually managed to break her neck with the force of the blow.
Not that she wouldn't have deserved it, the absolute bitch.
"You're playing a very dangerous game, Colonel" Alec continued, his expression blank but his eyes livid, "We're going to find Ourumov eventually, so it would be in your best interests to help us now rather than wait until such a time that you're, uh… no longer needed".
The concrete room echoed with her laughter, a chilling sound that seemed to reverberate off the cold walls.
"Do you two really think that you can beat the information out of me?"
"We've been known to be persuasive" Alec replied dryly, even as James delivered a swift, calculated punch to her gut, causing her to double over with a choked gasp. "And we're only going to get a hell of a lot more persuasive the longer you draw this out. So I'll ask you again. Where is Ourumov, and what is he planning?"
Janssen, bloodied and battered, grinned through the pain.
"You're fools if you think you can stop us. The general's vision will become a reality, and there's nothing you can do about it, предательская мразь!"
Alec's expression tightened, but he said nothing as James responded to the insult with a series of cleverly placed hits. She continued to laugh through it all, even as tears ran down her face, mixing with blood.
"Just you wait!" she hissed as James finally stepped back, "Janus is going to change the world! Our reach extends far beyond your understanding, and our leader is invincible!"
"... Maybe" Alec allowed, finally straightening up as he walked - prowled - towards her, "Maybe you're right. Maybe we'll never catch Ourumov. Maybe he is invincible".
He paused when he reached her and took his time as he shrugged out of his leather jacket, carefully folded it, and then handed it to James before turning back to her with a wicked grin.
"But you're not".
"Quartermaster?"
He blinked and quickly hit mute on his computer as he looked up. Silvia hovered just outside his open door with a clipboard in her hands and an expectant look on her face.
"004 is here to collect his equipment. Should I get R to sign off on it or-?"
"... No" he replied, "No, uh, I'll- I'll do it. Thank you. I'll be right down".
She nodded, smiled, and left, and Q turned back to his monitor with a pang of regret. He'd have preferred to have stayed there for the entire day - watching James and Alec interrogate Janssen was a work of art - but he knew that it was just as, if not more, important that Jake got everything he needed for his mission in Mozambique.
He stared at the screen for another moment, watching as his murder kittens unleashed their claws, before finally sighing and turning it off.
He could always rewatch the surveillance tapes later on, after all.
Taking the steps two at a time down to the main branch, he bypassed his lab desk to pick up Jake's more specialised equipment before making his way over to the man who was hovering in the centre of the room.
When the alpha saw him, he grinned.
"Hello, mukundwa".
"Hello yourself" Q replied, as he let himself be dragged into the double-0s customary greeting hug.
His scent was warm today, sweeter and less minty, which meant he hadn't smoked much yet. The omega hoped that it was an omen of good things to come - at least, in regard to his mission.
"So" Jake said, pulling back slightly, "What've you got for me?"
"No explosions".
His face immediately fell.
"But I did finish upgrading your lock-picking set".
His grin returned in full force.
"Lay it all out for me, mukundwa".
Gently placing the bundle in his arms on the nearest empty desk, Q spread them out and pointed to each item in turn.
"You have half a dozen lock picks in total, but now, four of those metal hooks have a built-in carbon nanotube that you can remove. This particular wire is over one hundred times stronger than steel and thirty times tougher than kevlar, so it's more than capable of cutting through wood, plastic, metals; you name it".
"I love it already".
"Next, we have your standard issue weapon - except it's no longer standard issue" Q continued, unable to fight back his own smile at the praise, "I added a microdermal sensor to your Heckler and Koch USP so that now, it should only work with your palm prints. I also managed to upgrade the magazine capacity to hold fourteen rounds instead of twelve. I did want to add more, but even those extra two bullets were starting to play havoc on the balance of it all, so you'll just have to let me know how it works in the field, and then I can make the necessary adjustments".
Jake hummed, expression far too entirely innocent.
"But I thought that this was just a simple undercover op? Surely, I'll have no need to use a firearm during a six-day observe-and-report mission".
Q gave him a rather deadpan look.
"James was in Mexico for two days when he collapsed a building and stole a helicopter... And that was him on holiday".
"... Yeah, fair enough". Jake shrugged. "Alright, so what else you got?"
The omega glanced around the room before finally catching sight of Silvia who was thankfully already heading their way.
"Ah, Ms Johnson! Perfect timing as always" he greeted, "Care to explain to 004 your latest invention?"
"Happy to, boss".
She flashed him a grin before becoming serious once more as she turned to Jake - but Q had to hand it to her, for a beta - and a minion - she didn't look a fraction as scared as her colleagues were when faced with a double-0.
"It's a project that I've been working on for a while" she started, reviewing her clipboard, "I know that medical provides the double-0s with the necessary injections and inoculations each year, but some vaccines are too specific or even too dangerous to receive on a regular basis. On top of that, a lot of the time that you agents get sent out to foreign countries, there's very little to no warning, which means it's impossible to get the correct vaccines before you leave".
Silvia reached into her pocket, pulled out a narrow, nondescript box, and from that, pulled out a small white tablet.
"So we've been working on this. It's a… cheat code, if you will, when it comes to medicine, and since you're leaving for Mozambique tomorrow morning, it's the perfect time to find out if it works".
"What, exactly, is it?"
"It's a typhoid pill" she replied with a grin, "Ideally, you should have been taking four typhoid capsules every other day for the past week before travelling to East Africa, but as I said - in a job like this, you don't get much warning. So instead, we've created a workaround. It's not perfect, and it only seems to last for two or three days before the immunisation wears off, but it's still our best solution right now".
Silvia handed him the box and Jake, still looking somewhat confused, took it.
"You'll have to take one capsule tomorrow morning before you leave, and you need to swallow it whole - do not chew it; it really won't taste nice. Then, just keep taking one every other day until you come back to England" she finished, "It's not a one-hundred-percent guaranteed immunisation, but it still offers you a better chance of avoiding typhoid than your own immune system does. Because of that, however, it is very very important that you take one of these tablets the second you start feeling unsteady or develop a fever. Got it?"
"Got it" he readily replied, before turning to Q, "I like her".
"I like her too" he agreed, and Silvia flushed a charming red. "Will that be all, boss?"
"That's more than enough, Ms Johnson, thank you".
Q smiled as she left, glad to have at least one competent person in this branch - aside from himself and R, of course. Although speaking of incompetent people…
"Daniel!" he called, "Where are you with 004's comms set?"
"Just finished sir!"
The alpha immediately rushed over with the standard communication kit in his sweaty hands. He studiously avoided Jake's gaze - still apparently traumatized when it came to double-0s after the whole t-shirt fiasco - and instead, handed the small case to Q.
The omega sighed and dismissed him with a nod, already lamenting the lack of brain cells some members of his branch possessed.
Turning back to Jake, he caught the man's knowing look and only half-heartedly fought back a glare, because if anyone was allowed to judge others' people skills, then it sure as hell wasn't a double-0.
"Your comms" he said instead, placing the case on the table next to them, "Standard issue, of course. Earpiece, transmitter, radio - the usual. With one, rather disappointing, modification".
"Disappointing?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, "I seriously doubt that anyone has ever been disappointed by your inventions, mukundwa".
"Yeah, well, this one disappointed even me" he replied with a scowl, picking up the radio, "You've read the mission file?"
"Of course. The Prime Minister is going to Mozambique as part of a UN goodwill tour. MI5 is providing security on the ground but they're still concerned about al-Shabaab, a militant group, planning an attack. As a result, the higher-ups want to send me in undercover to find out if there is a plan, and if there is, then to try and prevent the terrorist attack from happening".
"Exactly… Except it's not MI5 that's worried; it's the Prime Minister himself. So, as you can imagine, them at '5 are none-too-impressed. They're taking it as an insult - believing that the PM doesn't think they're capable of protecting him". Q held out the transmitter and pointed at the extra button recently installed. "Which means they want in on comms".
"What?" Jake exclaimed, "No! This is an MI6 op! We don't get to listen in to their undercover missions!"
"If they even have any" he grumbled, "I'm sorry, 004, but these are the times we live in. As soon as you make contact with the militant group, they're expecting to be kept informed… But hey, look on the bright side! You're our unofficial MI5 liaison agent, so you've probably worked with some of these guys plenty of times before!"
"I know" the alpha bit out, golden eyes dark, "That's the problem".
"Well, think of it this way... It's only for six days".
Jake reached out and reluctantly took the radio from him, placing it back in its case with just a little bit more force than necessary, before zipping it up and adding it to the pile with the rest of his equipment.
"Six days" he repeated to himself quietly, staring at the desk, "I can survive six days, right?"
Dismounting his bike, Q yawned as he pushed it the final few feet to the front door of his building. It had been a truly long day, horribly so, and he was looking forward to doing nothing more than feeding the cats, downing half a litre of tea, and then collapsing into bed.
With Jake fully outfitted for his mission and due to leave tomorrow morning, and the majority of those bloody requisition forms signed, he was finally starting to get on top of his workload again.
The interrogation with Janssen wasn't something that he saw ending anytime soon, but thankfully that was now James and Alec's job rather than his. The beta hadn't so much as given them an inch today, no matter how messy things got, so he figured that there were still a few days in it yet.
Not that he was complaining, of course, given that the sight of James with his shirt sleeves rolled up and Alec with bloody knuckles did things to his stomach that no sane person had any right to feel...
It was, perhaps, a good thing then, that neither he nor his two favourite double-0s were particularly sane.
Unclipping his helmet, he placed it in the front basket of his bike before wheeling it further down the hall, out of the way of anyone else who might be coming or going. Adjusting the strap on his shoulder bag, he turned to face the door that led into his flat and-
Froze.
The light on the alarm box, wired into the wall just next to his door, was a bright, solid yellow.
Q thought, and thought quickly.
He'd programmed the damn thing himself when he'd first moved in here many years ago, still paranoid that Francisco would escape MI6 custody and hunt him down for revenge. His fears hadn't been entirely unfounded - the prick had eventually escaped after all, but even the resources of an internationally known assassin were limited, so he'd never managed to track down the omega's new address.
But the point was, Q had rewired the alarm box with someone intelligent in mind. He couldn't just have a simple red-for-activated, green-for-unlocked system - he needed something more subtle. So instead, he'd come up with a new colour system, with different patterns meaning different things - green when the correct code was entered, flashing green when the door was open, red when the alarm was active, flashing red when the incorrect code was entered, and yellow when-
Yellow when his alarm code had been bypassed entirely.
The windows of his flat didn't have any alarm system. The building was old, first of all, but also, it was quite the impossible feat to even reach his windows given that there was a metre-and-a-half wide gap that had a ten-foot drop surrounding his flat outside.
He only had two neighbours, both of whom had been thoroughly vetted and checked out by Admiral Hargraves before he'd shoved the house key into Q's trembling hands, and neither of them knew what he did for a living. In fact, no one outside of MI6 knew what he did for a living, because, put simply, outside of MI6, he did not exist.
Even within MI6, not many people knew him - the double-0s had come the closest in that regard, and only M, maybe R, and vaguely Bill knew anything about his life before. His file was ninety per cent blacked out and five per cent lies - even if it was the only physical evidence of his home address, which again, was stored under the alias Desmond Cleese rather than what used to be his real name.
But what all of this boiled down to, was that no one, absolutely no one, knew where he lived. The double-0s, as usual, were exceptions to the rule - but given that Duncan was their best hacker, and even he hadn't managed to bypass Q's alarm that one time he'd decided to break in, it meant that none of them were responsible for the bright, solid yellow light in front of him.
Which meant that someone else had bypassed his alarm.
Which meant that someone else had successfully broken in.
Which meant that someone else had-
Someone else had gotten inside his flat.