The evening sky was a fading tapestry of oranges and purples, the sun sinking low on the horizon as Walker and Clive led their teams through the dense underbrush. The forest was still bathed in a dim, dusky light, but the shadows were lengthening, stretching across the path. Every one of them was burdened with a large, heavy box, its contents tightly sealed to protect the delicate plants inside.
Walker's jaw clenched as he pushed forward, the weight of the box he carried doing little to distract him from his simmering anger. The thought of Alex, hurt and vulnerable back at the facility, gnawed at him. He could still see the kid's defiant eyes, even after everything they had put him through. Walker had wanted to be there, to watch over him, to make sure he didn't do anything stupid—or worse, that nobody else did.
Instead, he was stuck out here, trudging through the mud like a common grunt, planting some flowers of all things, all while the SAS prowled somewhere nearby, hunting them down. It was infuriating. He tightened his grip on the box, his fingers aching from the strain, but it was nothing compared to the frustration boiling inside him.
The radios clipped to their belts occasionally crackled to life with the faint, static-laced voices of the SAS soldiers, revealing their movements as they searched the area. It was a double-edged sword—while they could avoid the patrols, it also meant the enemy was closer than Walker would have liked.
"This is ridiculous," Walker muttered under his breath, not bothering to hide the venom in his voice. "I should be back at the base, not out here playing gardener." Alex's taunts were sharp in Walker's mind and he hated it. Hated the feeling that there was some truth behind the brat's mocking words.
Clive, walking beside him with a calm, measured pace, glanced over noting his foul mood. "Orders are orders," he replied, his tone as steady as ever. "We've been tasked with ensuring that this part of the plan goes smoothly. The plants have to be in place by morning so we'll make sure that it's done."
Walker scowled, his eyes narrowing as he shot a glance at Clive. The man's unflappable demeanor only served to irritate him further. "I don't give a damn about the plants," Walker hissed. "We have bigger problems back at the base, and you know it. Leaving Rider unsupervised after everything done to him? I tell you, it's a mistake."
Clive's expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, maybe annoyance. "We've taken precautions," he said, his voice a touch colder. "The base is secure. The boy isn't going anywhere."
"Precautions?" Walker scoffed. "The kid's slippery. He's more dangerous now than ever. And with me out here, who's keeping an eye on him? Those idiots we left behind? If he gets loose—"
"He won't," Clive interrupted, his voice firm. "And if he does, we'll deal with it. But right now, our orders are clear. We finish the job out here, and we return to the base. Nothing more, nothing less."
"Damn it, Clive" Walker muttered. "I don't feel good about this…and with the SAS sniffing around..."
Clive, ever composed, glanced over at him. "The SAS are a threat yes, but we know their movements. We'll stay one step ahead."
Walker's scowl deepened. "You're too confident. Those SAS bastards are good at what they do. If they find us out here…"
"They won't," Clive interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We're monitoring their communications. We'll know if they're getting too close."
Another burst of static from Walker's radio made the tension in him rise, but the voices were distant, garbled—nothing to worry about yet. Still, the surge of adrenaline didn't leave his body. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were playing a dangerous game, one where the slightest mistake could get them all captured or even killed.
Walker fell silent, biting back the retort that threatened to spill out. He knew better than to argue with Clive, especially out here, where the team could overhear. But the anger didn't dissipate; it only simmered, growing hotter with every step they took deeper into the woods.
The group continued their march in silence, the men behind them exchanging wary glances. They could feel the tension radiating from Walker, and none of them wanted to be the one to set him off.
After what felt like an eternity, they reached a small clearing, the perfect spot for the first planting.
"Let's split up," Clive said looking around. "I'll continue with my team. You can start here."
Without another word Walker watched Clive's group disappear into the trees. Walker dropped his box unceremoniously on the ground. His team began to set down their boxes, opening them carefully to reveal the strange, twisted plants inside. Each one was packed in soil and nutrients, roots already tangled and thick, ready to take hold in the forest floor.
Walker squeezed his hands in tight fists. He hated this. Hated the feeling that this operation was slipping through their fingers. It should have been so simple. Come to the area, retrieve the cargo, see that the resources are planted on the area. Of course, they had had no idea that the 'resources' were plants and bugs, but it wasn't his place to question it as long as he got paid.
But since they had learned about Rider's presence on the area, the whole thing has started to go downhill. Their whole schedule was postponed, they had drawn unnecessary attention to their presence, the SAS was closing in every minute and on top of that it seemed that the boy really knew nothing of value.
Walker forced himself to take in some deep breaths and focus on the task at hand. Tonight, they would place the plants. Tomorrow he would get to torment Alex more. Maybe he should let Hawthorne know that he was starting to believe that the brat was telling the truth.
Hawthorne seemed determined to get information out of Alex before completing their objective here. Walker was hopeful that as soon as they got the bugs running around the forest they could get out of the area. So, one, maximum of two days, and he would get out of these God forsaken woods. Walker looked at his team planting the first flowers on the forest floor. One or two days to go.
Sam's heart pounded in his chest, the sound of it roaring in his ears as he stared at Alex. The dim light of the room cast long shadows across Alex's face, making him look even more serious, more determined. Sam's mind raced, struggling to process what Alex had just told him.
"I need you to help me with something," Alex had whispered, his voice barely audible. "Soon, say that you need to take a look at my foot. You are already checking my injuries so it shouldn't be suspicious. There's a wire in there. I need it out. But we can't let anyone see or become suspicious that there is something going on."
The idea alone made Sam's stomach churn. He looked down at Alex's injured foot. Sam felt a wave of nausea wash over him. His hands trembled slightly as he imagined the pain he would cause to Alex and the precision it would take to remove the wire without alerting the guards. The worst part wasn't the gruesome task ahead, it was the fear of being caught
If any of the guards noticed what they were doing… Sam couldn't even finish the thought. The consequences were too horrifying to imagine.
"Sam," Alex whispered, his voice low and insistent, dragging Sam's attention back to him. "You can do this. I can't reach it myself easily because of the handcuffs and they might notice if I try."
Sam swallowed hard, his throat dry. His hands were already trembling, and he clenched them into fists to try and steady himself. "I… I don't know if I can," he admitted, his voice barely more than a shaky breath.
Alex's gaze softened, understanding in his eyes. "I know it's not easy," he said quietly, "but we don't have a choice. I'm so sorry I have to involve you in this. I truly am."
Sam nodded numbly, his mind spinning with fear and doubt. But even as the panic welled up inside him, something else fought to the surface, a stubborn resolve. Alex was right. They didn't have a choice.
He forced himself to breathe, focusing on the rhythm of it, trying to calm his racing heart. He had to do this for all of them.
"Okay," Sam whispered back, the word feeling like a lead weight in his mouth. He glanced around the room, the two guards were talking among themselves with low voices. Will was staring at him and Alex with intensity. So were the other captives in the next cells but they were obviously giving some space for them. And Sam realized that he had been visibly panicking just a moment ago. The way Alex had positioned himself, his expressions and low voice would give nothing away. It would seem as he was simply reassuring a panicking friend.
Sam swallowed and looked back at Alex who gave him a tight nod, his expression serious but somehow reassuring. "It has to be quick, and you need to keep it hidden. If they see anything…"
"I know," Sam interrupted, his voice tense. He couldn't let himself think about what would happen if they were caught. He just had to focus on the task at hand.
He moved closer to Alex. His hands were shaking so badly that he had to press them against his knees to steady them. Alex watched him carefully, his face a mask of determination, though Sam could see the strain behind his eyes. Alex nodded briefly. It was time to start.
"Alex, I would like to check your foot also", Sam said making sure to sound overwhelmed and scared. Which, he was, so he didn't have to try too hard to find a tone that wouldn't seem out of place with his sudden request.
"It didn't bleed Sam", Alex responded in line with all his previous statements.
Thankfully Snake had overheard him and joined the conversation as expected. "Cub come on. You said it yourself before, that it might be broken. At least it won't do any harm to see how it looks."
Alex looked at Sam and nodded slowly. "Okay."
Sam nodded back feeling anything but ready. He reached for Alex's foot, his fingers fumbling as he started to peel the muddy sock off. The sight of Alex's foot made him swallow hard, bile rising in his throat. It was swollen, black and purple and the edge of the metal wire was just visible beneath the skin.
Sam's vision swam for a moment, the edges of his world going dark as he started to feel lightheaded. He closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath to steady himself. He couldn't afford to pass out. Not now.
He positioned himself so that the guards and other prisoners wouldn't have clear view of what he was doing. With trembling hands, Sam began to work, using his fingers to gently probe around the wire. Alex sat rigid with pain, his body tensing, but he didn't say a word. Sam could feel the tension radiating off him, the strain of holding still while Sam did this.
"I'm sorry," Sam whispered, his voice thick with guilt. Every movement felt like a betrayal, knowing he was causing Alex pain.
Alex just nodded tensely, biting his teeth together, breathing through his nose and forced himself to stay still, even though the pain was excruciating. His foot was definitely broken, and Sam's touch sent jolts of pain radiating all the way through his body. He could feel the wire shifting beneath the skin, and he had to bite back his own gasps and cries of pain. Sam's hands were clumsy, but he was moving with a focused determination.
Alex could see the strain in every line of Sam's body, the way his hands shook as he probed around the wire. Then, as Sam pressed down to try to get a grip of it, a sudden jolt of pain tore through Alex, white-hot and unbearable. He couldn't help it and a cry of pain escaped his lips, echoing in the room.
"Cub", Viper's voice came from the other cell, sharp with concern. "How does it look?"
Sam froze, his eyes wide with panic, as he quickly tried to cover what he was doing. His fear was clear in his voice as he answered. "It… it looks quite bad."
There was a moment of silence, and Alex could see the looks of concern and dread on the faces of the other captives. They all knew how serious the situation was, but they didn't know just how desperate Alex and Sam were in that moment.
"It's alright, Cub," came Snake's voice, carrying a note of forced reassurance. "It's gonna be alright. Just hold on there. We're gonna get through this."
Alex didn't reply, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he tried to compose himself. Sam gave him a worried look, clearly rattled, but Alex forced himself to nod, to show that he was still with him, that they couldn't afford to stop now.
"Just…Keep going," Alex urged, his voice a strained, quiet whisper.
Sam swallowed hard, his face pale, but he nodded and resumed his task, his movements more careful now, trying to minimize the pain he was causing. But it was impossible to avoid it entirely. Each time Sam touched his foot, Alex had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out again.
The wire finally began to move, sliding out slowly, agonizingly. Alex could feel every millimeter of it as it dragged through his foot, and it took everything in him to stay silent, to not alert the guards. Sam's hands were slick with sweat, his fingers trembling as he pulled the last bit free.
Alex sagged back against the wall, the pain still throbbing but somehow less intense now that the intruding object was gone. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a shaky breath, trying to steady himself.
"You did it," Alex breathed and opened his hand. Sam placed the blood covered wire on Alex's open hand and nodded, not trusting himself to speak. His hands were still trembling, the adrenaline making him feel lightheaded and sick. But he had done it.
Will sat in the next cell against the bars that separated them from Sam and Alex, his eyes fixed on the scene unfolding in front of him. He saw how Sam had been panicking and Alex had started to calm him down. They whispered too quietly for Will to hear what was said but he could still see tension in Sam's posture as he asked to see Alex's foot.
Will's heart was pounding in his chest, a sickening mixture of fear and helplessness twisting in his gut as he looked at his best friend. He couldn't get the sound of Sam's screams out of his mind and felt his eyes still sting by the tears he had shed, watching his friend be tortured and not be able to do anything about it.
He had watched as Sam had cleaned Alex's wounds and started to inspect the injured foot. He and Sam had known each other for years and Will could sense that something wasn't right. He could see Sam's hands shake, his breath being too rapid and the way he was covering Alex from their sight. The moment Alex let out a sudden cry of pain, it was like a knife to Will's heart. His hands clenched into fists and he fought the urge to call out, to demand to know what the hell was going on.
Viper was the first to speak up, his voice sharp with concern. "Cub, how does it look?"
Will noticed Sam hesitating, his face pale, his movements quick and jittery as he tried to cover what he was doing.
"It… it looks quite bad," Sam replied, his voice trembling and Will could hear the fear in it.
Viper's lips thinned into a tight line, and Henry shifted uneasily. Ellie, who had been trying to keep herself calm by counting the cracks in the concrete floor, glanced up, her eyes wide with worry. Liam stayed silent, his gaze flickering between the two cells, clearly uncertain of what to do.
Will's chest tightened painfully. He wanted to reach through the bars, to pull Sam away from whatever awful thing he was doing, but he knew he couldn't. If Sam and Alex were up to something they couldn't attract any attention. The feeling of helplessness was unbearable.
"It's alright, Cub," Snake said, his voice low but firm, though Will could hear the forced reassurance in his tone. "It's gonna be alright. Just hold on there. We're gonna get through this."
Get through this, Will thought bitterly, glancing between Snake and Alex. He wondered if they really believed that. If any of them believed that. The odds were stacked against them, and every second they spent in these cells, the more real the threat of death became.
"Will," Ellie whispered, her voice barely audible. She had scooted closer to him, her small frame tense with anxiety. "Do you think we'll be okay?"
Will wanted to tell her yes, wanted to lie and say that everything was going to be fine. But the truth was, he didn't know. He didn't know if Alex would survive whatever was happening to him, and he didn't know if Sam would be able to keep it together long enough to help him.
"Yeah", Will finally muttered, his voice rough, more for his own sake than hers. "We'll be okay." He needed to believe that they would get through this, even if he had no idea how.
He watched as Sam continued to work, his movements careful but frantic. Will had no idea what kind of plan Alex had cooked up, but he knew it must be something desperate. Alex was pale, all the colour drained from his face. Will could see how Alex was trembling slightly, leaning against the wall of his cell with determined look in his eyes.
"Whatever they're doing," Will said keeping voice low and his eyes on Sam and Alex, "we need to trust them. Alex knows what he's doing."
Ellie nodded, though she wasn't sure if he was trying to convince her, or himself. Trusting Alex wasn't the issue, it was the situation they were in that terrified them both. No matter how smart or resourceful Alex was, they were still in a cage, surrounded by enemies who wouldn't hesitate to kill them.
Will could see the strain on Sam's face, the way he was biting down on his lip, the way his hands shook as he worked on Alex's foot. It was unbearable to watch, but Will couldn't look away. He had to be there for Sam, even if all he could do was watch from a distance.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Will saw a glimpse as Sam pulled something small and bloody from Alex's foot. Will's stomach twisted at the sight of it, and he quickly looked away, trying to push down the nausea that rose in his throat.
As Sam sat back, he glanced over at Will, and for a moment, their eyes met. Will's heart was in his throat as he watched Sam's eyes meet his through the bars. The room was thick with tension, and the silence was almost unbearable. But in that brief moment, as their eyes locked, Will saw something in Sam's expression that he hadn't expected: determination.
Despite the fear, despite the shaking hands and the pale face, there was a flicker of resolve in Sam's eyes. Will swallowed hard, the knot of fear in his chest loosening ever so slightly. He nodded at Sam, trying to convey the same determination back. He had to keep that hope alive. He had to trust that they would get out of here. That after all, they would be okay. Somehow.
The sun had almost set, the last rays of light were casting long shadows across the forested terrain as Ben, Wolf, Eagle, and Coyote trudged back to their vehicle. The day had been grueling, the air thick with tension and frustration. Despite combing through several potential locations—abandoned warehouses, dilapidated cabins, remote bunkers—they had found nothing. The sense of failure hung heavy in the air, and each of them wrestled with the frustration of coming up empty-handed.
Ben, his face grim, wiped the sweat from his brow as they approached the car. The day's light was fading fast and the sense of urgency gnawed at him, growing stronger with every passing minute. Alex, Snake and all the others were still out there. The thought made his gut twist with a mixture of fear and anger. They were running out of time, and the trail was growing colder by the minute.
"Damn it," Wolf muttered, slamming the side of their car as they regrouped by the vehicle. "This is getting us nowhere. We're chasing bloody ghosts."
Eagle leaned against the side of the car, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. "They're good, I'll give them that," he said. "Whoever planned this knew exactly how to cover their tracks. But we can't just give up. We need to think. What are we missing?"
Coyote stared out at the darkening forest. His brow furrowed in thought. "Maybe it's time to start checking the places that have already been cleared," he finally said, his voice measured. "We are assuming they would have taken the most logical routes or used practical hiding spots. There are not many of those left that wouldn't have been checked already."
Ben, his mind racing, unfolded the map on the hood of the car. His fingers traced over the areas that were already combed through. "You might be onto something, Coyote," he said, his mind working furiously to connect the dots. "They could be hiding in plain sight in one of the areas we've already cleared. If they knew we were searching, they might have waited until we passed through and then doubled back."
Wolf straightened. "It could be worth checking out. They could have been banking on us not revisiting those locations, thinking we'd write them off."
Ben nodded, his eyes hardening with resolve. "It's a risk, we might end up chasing our tails, but it's one we need to take. Radio it in with the Colonel."
Wolf picked up the radio, the device crackling as he tuned into the frequency. "Colonel Sanders, this is Wolf. We've finished searching the areas assigned, but we've got nothing. Requesting permission to start revisiting some of the already checked areas and search more thoroughly."
There was a brief pause, the silence filled only by the low hum of the forest around them. Then, Colonel Sanders' voice came over the radio, firm but understanding. "I hear you, Wolf. We've already covered the primary zones, so if you believe it's worth the effort, go ahead. Revisit those areas and take your time. We can't afford to overlook anything. Keep me updated on your progress."
"Copy that, Colonel," Wolf replied, his voice steady. He lowered the radio and looked at the others, determination evident in his eyes. "Let's do this. We'll start with the closest locations and work our way out."
The engine roared to life as they prepared to revisit the areas that were already searched. This time, they would be meticulous, leaving no stone unturned, no shadow unexplored.
As they drove, the radio continued to crackle with updates from other search teams, none of which had found anything substantial. The pressure was mounting, the clock ticking down on their chances of finding Alex and the others before it was too late. But Ben pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the task at hand. They were doing everything they could, and they were getting closer. He could feel it.
The first location on their list was a series of old barns on an abandoned farm. The structures were dark and silent, blending into the surrounding landscape. Wolf parked the car, and they quickly split up, flashlights cutting through the darkness as they moved to search the barns one by one. The air was heavy with the scent of decay, the wooden floorboards creaking under their boots.
But as they worked their way through the barns, one by one, they found nothing. No signs of recent activity, no hidden doors or passages—just more empty spaces, more silence. The unease grew, the frustration mounting with each passing moment.
Ben's flashlight swept across the last barn, illuminating piles of hay and old farming equipment, but there was nothing to indicate anyone had been there recently. He could feel the weight of disappointment settling in, but he pushed it aside, focusing on the possibility that their luck could change at any moment.
They regrouped by the vehicle, the tension hanging thick in the air. "Still nothing," Eagle said, his voice tight with frustration. "But there are still a few more places to check."
Wolf nodded, though the frustration was clear on his face. "We'll keep going. We've got to."
They radioed in their lack of findings to Colonel Sanders, who urged them to continue with their plan. The search wasn't over yet, and they were far from giving up. As they climbed back into the car and prepared to head to the next location, Ben couldn't help but glance back at the barns, a lingering sense of unease gnawing at him. They had searched the area extensively. Multiple SAS personnel and MI6 agents were combing through the woods. The fact that nothing was found yet made him feel uneasy. Ben let out a sight. It didn't feel right, something was going on.
Alex was leaning back against the wall, his foot throbbing where Sam had removed the wire. He could feel the tension in the room, the silent desperation shared by everyone. But despite the pain and the fear gnawing at him, Alex's mind was working, calculating the next move. He knew their survival depended on timing and precision, and he was determined to give them a fighting chance.
There would be less Scorpia operatives at the premises tonight and it was the best chance they would have to make a break for it. Especially with Walker's threats about tomorrow hanging over them. Alex's eyes flicked to the two guards stationed outside the cells. Petrov had a habit of taking frequent smoke breaks but Quinn rarely left her post, her eyes constantly scanning the cells as if daring anyone to make a move.
Alex had been watching them, waiting for an opportunity—any opportunity—to act. He had hoped that, at some point, both of the guards would leave the room, even if just for a minute. It would be enough for him to pick the lock and take the guards by surprise. But the minutes ticked by, and that moment never came. The guards were either too vigilant or too well-coordinated to give him that chance. Alex was racking his brain for any idea to get the guards leave the room, but there was nothing he could come up with that wouldn't raise any suspicions.
As the realization sank in, a sense of grim resolve took hold of his thoughts. They were running out of time. Most of the crew should be away by now, but they would start to return at some point. For them to be able to get out of the cells, gather the information to stop Hawthorne's plans and get as far away as possible, they would need to move soon.
Alex turned his head slightly to look at Sam. He was still trembling slightly, his face pale from the stress of what he had done earlier. Alex hated what he was about to ask of Sam, but there was no other way.
"Sam," Alex whispered, his voice low and steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside him. "I need you to listen carefully."
Sam glanced up, his eyes wide with anxiety. Alex took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully.
"If one of the guards asks you to check on me tonight," Alex began, "you need to tell them that you can't feel my pulse or that I'm not breathing. Whatever it takes to get at least one of them into this cell. Do you understand?"
Sam's eyes widened even more, realization dawning on him. "Alex, no…" he started, his voice shaky with fear.
Alex looked at Sam with deep regret and guilt waving inside of him. "Sam, I know this is a lot to ask. But it's the only way we're getting out of here. I need you to do this. And when they come in…don't look. Stay far away and don't do anything."
The words felt heavy in his mouth, the weight of what he was asking of Sam pressing down on him. Alex knew Sam would blame himself for what was about to happen. But there was no other option. Alex had hoped they would have more time. More time for some other opportunity to present itself. But this was it. This could be their one and only chance, and he had decided to take it. No matter the cost, if it was enough to get them all to safety.
"I'm sorry," Alex whispered, his voice laced with genuine regret. "I'm sorry for involving you in this. But I promise, I'm going to get us out of here. I just need you to trust me."
Sam swallowed hard, his eyes searching Alex's for any sign of hesitation, of doubt. But Alex's gaze was steady, his determination clear. Finally, Sam nodded, though Alex could see the turmoil in his eyes.
"I trust you," Sam whispered back, his voice barely audible. "I just… It's just that…Alex, what are you going to do?"
Alex felt something twist inside his stomach. "I just need to get us a window of opportunity. That's all."
Sam glanced at others in the next cell. "What if something goes wrong? I don't want anyone to get hurt."
"Neither do I", Alex whispered following Sam's gaze. "None of them are going to get hurt. I promise you. But to ensure that, we need to get out. Tonight."
Sam turned to look at Alex. He could see the resolve, the desperation in his eyes. If Sam was being honest, he didn't necessarily want to know what Alex was planning, why he would need a guard to enter their cell. Deep down, he knew what Alex was implying, even if he didn't want to acknowledge it.
Sam looked over at Will, who was sitting beside Ellie, whispering something to her to keep her calm. A deep sadness washed over Sam as he realized just how much they had all changed. They were just kids, thrust into a nightmare none of them had been prepared for.
Watching his best friend made him think about the times they had talked about the future and he had told about his dream of following in his cousin's footsteps, of joining the military and living a life of adventure. Now it was fading fast, replaced by a cold, hard truth that left him feeling hollow inside.
In that moment, Sam realized he didn't want to be the hero. He didn't want to be the one making the tough calls, the one who had to stay calm while everything around him fell apart. He just wanted to go home, to be safe again, and to never have to think about anything like this ever again.
He made a silent vow to himself: if they got out of this alive, he would rethink everything he had once wanted. Because this was a nightmare, and it was one he never wanted to experience again. But he would have to play his part now. So, pushing aside the thoughts of what it all meant, Sam nodded to Alex in agreement. He would do what needed to be done, even if the thought made him sick with dread.
Alex, seeing Sam's reluctant nod, felt a pang of guilt but he needed to ignore it. There was no time for second thoughts.
"We should try to get some rest," he said, squeezing Sam's shoulder briefly and looking at the other captives.
Viper met his eyes and nodded. "Yeah, you're right." Viper looked at the kids in his cell and positioned himself to lean against the bars. "Come on. Let's try to get some sleep."
Alex saw as the others laid down or tried to lean their heads against their knees to be able to drift into sleep. It seemed impossible task, but the exhaustion was doing its part and slowly, they started to drift off.
Alex laid down on the hard ground, closing his eyes for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. He knew what he had to do but he also knew the risk he was taking and what it would cost him and Sam, emotionally and mentally. But he couldn't afford to second-guess himself now. Not when so much was at stake.
He opened his eyes briefly, his gaze fixed on the guards. All he needed was one of them to come close enough. Just one. And then, he would make sure they had the chance to escape. He would get them out, no matter what it took. He shifted his position so that his back was towards the guards, hiding his hands as he took a better hold of the blood covered metal wire and started to pick the lock on his handcuffs.
He loosened the cuffs around his wrists, making it easier to slip his hands free when the time came. He worked quickly but quietly. As the cuffs came loose, Alex flexed his fingers, feeling the rush of blood return to his hands. He wasn't free yet, but it was a start. Now all he needed was for Sam to do his part—and for the guards to take the bait.
As he lay there, waiting for the right moment, Alex couldn't shake the guilt gnawing at him. He had dragged Sam into this, made him complicit in what was about to happen. He could only hope that, when this was all over, Sam would forgive him. But for now, there was no turning back. Alex was prepared to do whatever it took to protect the others. Even if it meant crossing lines he'd never imagined crossing before. It seemed that Scorpia had been wrong. It wasn't about finding the right target after all; it was about finding the right motivation.
Petrov flicked the stub of his cigarette to the ground, grinding it out under the heel of his boot. He was tired, more tired than he cared to admit, but there was no room for weakness in this line of work. The cold night air bit at his skin, a sharp contrast to the suffocating tension inside the building. He had joined Scorpia for the thrill of it—the promise of excitement, of danger, of high-stakes missions that would challenge him. He had wanted to gain a name for himself, to learn from the best.
Scorpia had been the leading organization on the other side of the law, holding resources and skills nobody else had. But it had all came crumbling down not so long ago. No Malagosto, no covert operations, no world-shaking assassinations. What he got instead was this, trekking through forest and a guard duty. It was hardly the initiation he had envisioned. He had hoped for something more… significant. Maybe after this operation they would gain back some of the old reputation and the new possibilities with it.
Shaking his head, Petrov banished the thoughts on his mind and made his way back inside focusing on the job at hand. The prisoners were lying down, the room filled with the quiet, uneven breaths of people too exhausted or scared to sleep properly. His eyes drifted over them, landing on Alex, who was lying far too still for Petrov's liking.
A frown tugged at Petrov's lips. Something wasn't right. The boy was completely motionless, as if there were no signs of life. Petrov's gut tightened, but not out of fear. It was more annoyance at the idea that something might have gone wrong on his watch. Shit. His frow deepened as he stepped closer.
"Quinn," he called tensely, not taking his eyes off Alex. "Come here."
Quinn, who had been keeping a vigilant watch, walked over and Petrov pointed at Alex. "Look. I think he's not breathing."
Quinn's eyes narrowed as she studied the boy, but she didn't question Petrov's concern. Instead, she barked out an order. "You, kid! Check him. See if he has a pulse."
Sam jolted awake at the sharp command, his eyes wide with panic. His eyes flicked frantically between the two guards in front of their cell and Alex, who was laying motionlessly on the floor, looking pale on the moonlight coming through the windows.
Sam swallowed hard, his heart hammering, as he scrambled to Alex's side, his hands trembling. He reached out to check for a pulse. Petrov watched him closely, his own nerves fraying. If something had happened to the boy, they were in a world of trouble.
"I…I can't…I can't find it…." Sam stammered in panic, his voice cracking and fingers probing Alex's neck. The fear in his eyes was unmistakable, and Petrov felt a chill run down his spine. Around them, the other captives were stirring because of the sudden noises. Petrov saw them rush to the bars to get a better view of the boy laying on the floor looking very much dead.
Petrov hesitated for a moment, his mind racing. They had been warned about this, warned not to underestimate Rider. He had made that mistake once before and gotten knocked out because of it. But now Alex lay there, seemingly lifeless, and if he died on their watch, it would be their necks on the line. Walker and worse yet, Hawthorne, would not be pleased. Besides the kid couldn't possibly possess any threat to them at his current state. They were armed, two against one, and the boy was injured and restrained by handcuffs.
Quinn, sensing his hesitation, stepped closer, her eyes locked on Sam. "If he's dead, we're screwed. We need to check."
Petrov still hesitated, but only for a moment, before he unlocked the cell door and stepped inside, Quinn close behind him. She took a firm grip on Sam and yanked him away from Alex. Sam closed his eyes and tried to take in a deep breath. He could feel Quinn's hard grip on his shoulder as she held him, his heart beating faster than ever before. He could hear the muffled cries from the next cell. Sam felt his throat tighten, tears trying to prickle their way to his eyes. He was shaking, cold sweat covering him from head to toe as he waited for what would happen next.
Petrov knelt beside Alex, reaching out to check for a pulse, his mind already racing with the implications of what might happen if the boy was dead. But as soon as his fingers touched Alex's neck, the boy's eyes snapped open.
There was no time to react. Alex moved with lightning speed, his hands, now free from the cuffs, shoot up to grab Petrov's head in a vice-like grip. The boy's fingers dug into his skull, the pressure unbearable and in that split second, all of Walker's warnings flashed through Petrov's mind.
"Don't underestimate the quiet moments. They can be more dangerous than the action."
"Don't get within striking distance with Rider."
"Be careful. Desperate people can do desperate things."
Now, looking at those brown eyes full of cold determination and desperation, Petrov could finally see it, instead of a broken and scared teenager, he was facing the lethal MI6 operative and Malagosto trained assassin. In that moment, Petrov knew that he realized his mistake way too late and underestimating Alex Rider would be the last thing that he did.
Alex felt Petrov's head between his hands, saw the man's eyes widen with surprise and realization. The coldness in Petrov's gaze was replaced with a brief flicker of fear as he recognized, too late, the mistake he had made. But Alex forced himself not to think, not to hesitate. His fingers dug into Petrov's skull, holding his head firmly in his grasp, and then, with brutal force, he twisted, summoning every ounce of strength he had left.
Loud and sharp, sickening crack, echoed through the room. Petrov's body slumped and Alex felt a wave of nausea rise in his throat, but he swallowed it down, forcing himself to move. There was no time for regret, no time for second thoughts. He reached for the knife at Petrov's belt, his fingers closing around the handle, and yanking it free as he sat up from the ground.
He forced his eyes to move to Quinn, who was holding Sam with a firm grip. Her eyes were wide with shock, realizing too late what had happened. She hadn't drawn her gun before, and she wasted precious second trying to reach it now. Alex didn't hesitate, didn't think. He threw the knife with every bit of precision and training that had been drilled into him at Malagosto. The blade sliced through the air, missing Sam by an inch and embedding itself in Quinn's chest with a sickening thud.
Quinn crumbled to the ground while Sam remained standing his eyes still closed and tears seeping down his cheeks. The entire thing had taken mere seconds.
Alex sat there for a moment, frozen in place, his heart pumping fast, cold sweat covering him and taste of bile rising to his mouth as nausea hit him with force. The weight of what he had just done started to crash over him like a wave, threatening to pull him under. His hands trembled as he started to wipe them on his pants with jerky movements, trying to rid himself of the sensation of Petrov's head between his fingers, the sickening crack of bone still echoing in his mind. His breathing grew shallow, his chest tightening as panic began to set in.
This wasn't the first time he had taken a life, but it was the first time he had done it this way, up close, with his bare hands. The violence, the intimacy of it, made his skin crawl. The room seemed to close in around him, the air thick and suffocating. He tried to breathe, but it felt like he couldn't get enough oxygen, like the walls were pressing down on him, squeezing the life out of him.
The room was heavy with silence, the air thick with the aftermath of violence everyone had just witnessed. Alex's breathing was ragged, his chest tight as he struggled to pull himself out of the panic that threatened to consume him. He wiped his hands on his pants again and again, but the sensation of Petrov's neck snapping on his hands refused to leave him.
Sam had dropped to the floor hugging his knees to his chest. His eyes were tightly shut, tears streaming down his face, his whole body trembling uncontrollably. He had heard the sickening crack and a thud as something had hit Quinn, felt her grip go slack and disappear. Sam's mind was already conjuring up gruesome images of what had happened. He didn't dare to open his eyes, terrified of what he might see.
The other prisoners were frozen in place, their expressions a mixture of horror and disbelief. For a moment, they had all thought Alex was dead, lying there so still, his chest unmoving. But then, in an instant, they had watched as he had turned into something else entirely—something terrifying and lethal.
"Alex…" Will's voice was barely a whisper, thick with fear. "What…what did you do?"
Viper blinked, forcing himself to focus, to push aside the fear that had gripped him just moments before. He looked at Alex, really looked at him, and saw the panic in his eyes, the way his chest heaved as if he couldn't catch his breath. This wasn't any cold, calculated killer or an assassin they got a glimpse of; he was just a kid, overwhelmed by the horror of what he had done.
"Cub," Viper called out, his voice steady but soft, careful not to startle him. "Cub…Alex, look at me. You need to focus. We need you here, okay?"
Alex's breath hitched, and he glanced up, his eyes wide and unfocused. The room felt like it was spinning, and he struggled to latch onto Viper's voice, to pull himself out of the spiraling panic.
"Alex!" Viper's voice was firmer now, a note of urgency creeping in. "You need to breathe. In and out, okay? Just breathe."
The words cut through the fog in Alex's mind. He forced himself to take a deep, shuddering breath, though his chest still felt tight, the air too thick and heavy. His hands were trembling, but he focused on what Viper was saying. He had to keep moving. He couldn't afford to break down now.
"That's it," Viper encouraged, nodding slightly. "Just like that. You can do it. Focus."
Alex swallowed hard, the taste of bile still sharp in his mouth, but he nodded slowly, forcing himself to push the panic inside him down, deep into the recesses of his mind where it couldn't control him. He took another deep breath, steadier this time, and met Viper's gaze.
"Okay," he said, his voice hoarse but determined. "Okay. Let's get out of here."