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crossoverficTitle: Time Out in Washington (16/18)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fides
Pairing: Jack/Ianto, Mulder/Krycek (mostly UST), Mark/Nicholas discussed but whether there is any truth behind the suggestion is open to the reader's interpretation
Fandom: X-Files/Torchwood/Dr Who/The State Within
Rating: NC-17 overall (most parts PG/PG-13, only one part is NC-17 and that part can be skipped with minimum confusion if you want to read the plot but are put off by the idea of graphic sex)
Warnings: Spoilers for The State Within. Some violence and fantasy sexual violence
Disclaimer: None of the recognisable characters are mine, Santa has been really falling down on his job recently, but belong to their respective right holders
Sequal to 1. Plus Ça Change, 2. Hobson's Choice
Prequel to Interlunation
Previous Parts: Part 1 - Prologue -:- Part 2 - Sir Mark -:- Part 3 - Jack -:- Part 4 - Azzam -:- Part 5 - Mulder -:- Part 6 - Skinner -:- Part 7 - Scully -:- Part 8 - George -:- Part 9 - Alex and Fox -:- Part 10 - Doctor -:- Part 11 - William -:- Part 12 - Ianto -:- Part 13 - Samantha -:- Part 14 - Yasmine and Chandon -:- Part 15 - Phileas
Summary: Finding out Jack's secret in the worst possible way (Hobson's Choice), Alex takes a break from Torchwood Three while he comes to terms with events and his anger towards Jack. To give him the time he needs, Jack arranges a secondment for Alex at the British Embassy in Washington working with the secret service to counter threats to the Ambassador's family. But with Mulder around things don't go to plan and Alex discovers that aliens aren't that easy to leave behind.
Notes: I know that the timelines don't quite fit so I decided to fudge things a little because it was too tempting to compare Torchwood and the Consortium. This story is set concurrent with the early part of X-Files season 6, during the second half of Torchwood season 1, during the time of the 12th Doctor (Doctor Who) and about a year after the events in The State Within. In depth (or indeed any) knowledge of the included fandoms isn't required so please don't let them put you off. Thanks tomoth2fic for the beta. Any and all remaining mistakes are own.
There was something hearteningly familiar about infiltrating a building and holding a fuming security guard captive. Alex considered reassuring the man that his intentions were good but, in his experience, such words were rather overshadowed by the presence of his gun so he didn't bother. The ski mask probably didn't help matters either. He had found himself impressed by the security set-up. While the individual businesses had been understandably reluctant to have cameras in their private areas the public areas from foyer to roof by way of the stairs and lifts were all a voyeur's wet dream of closed circuit feeds. He familiarised himself with the system while the guard obstinately confirmed that the restraints which Alex had used on him were completely secure. Satisfied that he had deleted any electronic trace of himself he settled back to watch the screens and amuse himself with the guard's futile attempts at resistance. It took his mind off how much the wool-blend made his nose itch.
The guard, whose name Alex hadn't bothered to check, had given up struggling by the time that the car carrying Nicholas and Azzam pulled into range of the cameras in the underground car park. He followed them as they walked from one monitor to the next. In another situation he would have smiled to watch the two of them, so different in so many ways but sharing a similar quietness as they walked. The glimmerings of hero-worship visible in the small ways that Azzam had begun to mimic Nicholas' movements and the little reaffirming looks up at Nicholas which he must have been aware of but pretended not to see. Instead Alex slid a glance towards the guard to check if his interest had been noticed. From the still horror in the guard's bearing it had and the obvious conclusions had been drawn. They both tracked the man and boy through the morning swirl of people: workers hurrying to their jobs, others procrastinating, small clumps amid the flow, as the excuse of social niceties or informal consultations kept them away from their desks for just that short while longer. Receptionists signed for packages from delivery couriers who looked at the drab uniformity with disdain and visitors filled out their credentials and waited for their escorts to take them away to every corner of the building. Alex searched the faces of each and every one, looking for ones that matched the photographs that George had shown him and Mark.
The interiors of the elevators showed in grainy black and white, the physical limitations necessitating cameras that were not as good as those in the rest of the building. Still, Alex was grateful they were there at all as Nicholas shepherded Azzam into the rightmost one, positioning himself between the boy and the motley collection of suits. Alex sucked in a breath as he automatically scanned the crowd; one of the attackers was there with them.
It was a tall building and from the flurry at the elevator buttons the journey would not be fast. From the camera's vantage point, Alex could see the suspect work his way nearer to Nicholas when the press of people allowed, occasionally to be pushed away by a new flow of entrants but steadily closing on them. This was it, Alex realised. The attack would either come in the elevator if the uncooperative morning rush allowed or it would come as they left, they and their assailant likely the only ones disembarking at their floor given the absence of other offices on it. There was no way he could reach the floor in time although a call to the psychologist's receptionist might produce a witness who would at least slow things down and complicate the issue.
Nicholas bent down and said something to Azzam. On the next floor they let the influx of people carry them away from the man and position them close to the door. What Nicholas had seen to arouse his suspicions Alex wasn't sure and didn't care because the game had just changed. The next stop gave them the opportunity Nicholas had apparently been planning for. They slipped out of the elevator just as the door was closing. Alex saw the man move for the 'door open' button but the weight of people held him back that moment too long.
"Well done," Alex whispered. The frustrated attacker had only been put off by one floor but it was a good start. Not knowing who he really was, Alex mentally dubbed him Bad Guy One. Alex tracked them both as Nicholas hurried Azzam towards the stairs, and presumably the exit, and Bad Guy One made it out of the elevator at the next stop and pulled out his phone.
Alex caught sight of the second man at the main entrance before Nicholas and Azzam had gone more than a floor and a half. Then the third, fourth and fifth men in quick succession, each by one of the emergency exits. So, that had been the backup plan, catch them on the way out. Bad Guy One moved confidently towards what appeared to be a random area of wall, hanging up as he did so. For a moment Alex wasn't sure what he was doing and then the fire alarm began to scream.
Alex dived under the desk taking advantage of the situation to make a cross-connection which would take down the surveillance feeds on the stairways and the back door as well as a few other minor systems. An electrical fault, common enough but hard to fix without a replacement for the blown part. Given the timing, Alex hoped that the problem would be linked to the alarm. There would be suspicions, naturally, about the convenience, but he could be fairly sure that if the investigation didn't put it down to bad luck they would pin it on one of the nameless attackers.
The triggered evacuation was definitely his cue. With the lack of children in the building, Azzam and Nicholas would be easy to spot but Nicholas was on guard and would see the trap just as easily. His best hope would be to try and lose himself and Azzam within the building, hoping to either get around the attackers or to wait them out until help arrived. Alex planned to tip the odds in Nicholas' favour.
He stood and smiled at the guard who shrank back as far as he was able. Everyone just assumed the worst of him. If Alex had cared about such things he might have felt hurt.
"I'm going to leave now, and you're going to call the police," he informed the man. The guard's eyes widened in surprise as he realised he wasn't facing his last few moments alive. “And you are going to tell them what you saw, or at least most of it as I don't exist." He leaned closer, letting the muzzle of his gun stroke a cold line along the man's jaw. "And, as I don't exist, you won't see me again. You don't want to see me again, do you?"
The guard shook his head as if Alex had asked a question rather than made a statement of fact. On the screens behind them the building began to empty, people pouring from their desks, cubicles and offices and from these tributaries joining others in an unstoppable cascade until they finally pooled together in a roiling mass at the base of the structure.
"That's good," Alex encouraged. "Now I'm going to undo one set of cuffs and you are going to sit quiet. When I get to the door I'll throw you the key for the other set and you can unlock yourself. I'm afraid we have to do it that way just so you don't feel any temptation to try some pointless last minutes heroics, which will just result in you becoming dead, and me becoming irritated because I have to take the time to call the FBI rather than going and helping my friend make sure nothing happens to that little boy. Do we understand each other?"
The guard nodded, giving Alex the distinct impression that the man was really a puppet on a string but Alex still kept his gun trained on him while he undid the first restraint.
"You might want to get them to cancel the fire engines as well." True to his word he flipped the key to the guard as he left. It plopped cleanly onto the guard's lap.
To his surprise the guard called, "Good luck," after him. Just went to show you never could tell. Either that or Stockholm syndrome kicked in a lot sooner than Alex had been led to believe.
Putting the guard from his mind he concentrated on his job. Down was his first move. When Nicholas and Azzam failed to appear the gang would move it, blocking each staircase as they tried to run their quarry to ground.
There were times when Alex had to wonder who had thought stairs were such a good idea. At least down was quicker than up. Four floors down the fire alarm shut off and he could suddenly hear, below him, the sounds of footsteps and the rally of voices bouncing off the walls towards him. He hoped the security guard had the sense to stay put.
At least two men.
The sound of a door somewhere below and then silence.
Alex moved as swiftly as he dared, not wanting to give away his presence. He spotted the man who had been left on guard in the stairwell when he was three floors above him. As Alex crept closer he could see that the man was dividing his attention between the lower stairs and the door to the level, which suited Alex nicely. There was an art to sneaking in boots, but even that would only get Alex so close. Crouched down he eased his way to the landing half a floor above the guard. The guard rail was not totally opaque but it at least offered a little cover. If he wanted the man would be dead before he had had a chance to register the sound of a shot. He took his hand off the grip of his gun and reached for his knife instead.
He got half way down the final flight of stairs before something made the lookout turn. Alex jumped the last few feet, slamming into the startled figure before he could react. His hand wrapped around the man's throat, stifling any sound, while his other slashed at the lookout's gun wrist, severing the tendons. Blood surged as he opened the vein but it lacked the high power rhythm that would indicate that he had also severed the artery. For a second they hung in the moment, a stillborn scream distorting the guard's face, then the gun dropped with a clatter and unfroze them from their tableau. Alex smashed his elbow into the guard's chin, snapping his head sideways and knocking him out.
Bending down, Alex scooped up the dropped gun. He had no intention of leaving anything that could be traced back to him at the scene and that involved bullets from his weapon if he could possibly avoid it. It one of the bastards got shot with his friend's gun however, that was just bad fortune, incompetence or division in the ranks; however the detective felt like interpreting the evidence. All Alex had to do was remember to put the gun back where he found it.
He stepped fastidiously around the pool of blood that was spreading out from the slashed wrist. It was already becoming sluggish. As many failed suicides found, a single, horizontal cut, even a deep one, was not invariably fatal. With a lot of luck and physical therapy he might even get to use the hand again. More importantly to Alex, the blood loss combined with the blow would keep the guy out until backup arrived.
Alex eased open the door. The corridor beyond was the only place where the security cameras could still catch him. Alex quickly measured the distance between his door and the impressive glass portico emblazoned with the name 'Archangel Network'. It wasn't more than a few metres but it could have been a thousand miles. The dummy camera had done its job. The front was splattered with something viscous and the wires leading from it had been cut. Across the corridor the small hole where the real camera was located was little more than a crack in the plaster, lost amid the rest of the decor. Alex considered the angles; it would be a tricky throw and had all the subtlety of Owen on the pull but, in the circumstances, it was the best he could do. As quickly as he could he shrugged out of his leather and slipped the obviously borrowed suit jacket off the man he had downed. The man moaned slightly at the rough handling but did not wake up. Ignoring the bloody sleeve, Alex slipped the good one over his right arm. If something was going to appear on the camera then Alex wanted to it point to one of the attackers. Using the door to shield him as much as he could, he hefted the knife, flipped it over and launched it at the gap. The knife quivered in the plasterboard, blocking out part of the hallway from the view of the security system. As quickly as he could he manhandled the suit jacket back on its owner and let him flop back to the floor.
The door to Archangel opened easily, revealing a small reception area and behind it an open plan office with shoulder height partitions stretching out as far as the eye could see. He crouched by the reception desk, looking for any sign of movement and listening for the sounds of Nicholas' pursuit. A cry of "there" sent him running. A flurry of gunshots caused him to sprint faster, gun ready in case he literally ran into someone. He found Bad Guy One sprawled on the floor and staining a swathe of the dingy, faded-blue carpet to a rusty garnet. Of more interest was the dark smear on a cubicle wall across the way. A signpost in blood pointing his way forwards. He grabbed a nearby motivational poster and stuck it over the mark, hiding it.
Nicholas wouldn't stay in the area having been found. The question was where he would go. Making for the stairs was the obvious choice but Alex didn't think that made sense, Nicholas had to know that help was on the way and his best hope, injured, against an unknown number of assailants and with a child, was to hold out until relief arrived. Rather than heading in the direction of the nearest stairs, Alex headed deeper into the office.
Another body told him he was going in the correct direction. Whether this one was dead or not Alex didn't bother to stop and check but the angle of the neck suggested that it was the former. The body was slumped on the chair in a cubicle, head lolling back as if the occupant had just fallen asleep in his chair. Alex didn't envy the actual owner of the bay. Still, maybe the company was willing to spring for new furniture; even Torchwood covered full valet service on expenses in the event of deaths within employee's personal vehicles.
He continued on, the short carpet helping to silence his footfalls as he hurried forwards. He tried to think like Nicholas would, thankful for those long evenings which had given him an idea of the other man's tactics. The flicker of movement sent him diving for the floor before he realised it was a reflection in a window. Just a flash of yellow, there and then gone like the Cardiff sun behind the clouds. Nicholas. It had to be; none of the attackers had been blond.
The last three assailants were hidden somewhere within the maze of cubicles, and bearing down on Nicholas and Azzam. They weren't good but there were enough of them that they didn't have to be. Alex had spotted a few gang colours atop the badly fitting suits, possibly recruited local talent. He wondered what they had been told, or whether they had even bothered asking any questions beyond how much. Maybe if they had done they might have had a longer life expectancy. Backing up quickly, and away from where he knew Nicholas to be, he set about doing what he did best - confusing the issue.
When he judged he was far enough away Alex ducked into a cubicle. A small, furry, green creature watched him with its beaded eyes from the top of the monitor while stacks of books defied any clear desk policy in operation. With a mental apology to the cubicle's occupant Alex grabbed the creature. It looked vaguely like something from one of Torchwood's archives and flew like an un-aerodynamic, fuzzy brick. It did, however, hit the pot of pens and pencils in the opposite bay with a satisfying rattle and thud. Alex crouched down and waited to see who came to investigate. It was easy to grab the bastard as he went past. The hardest thing was not going for the quick neck snap but Alex wanted to leave a few alive to answer questions. It wasn't like they could identify him.
Moving on quickly he searched for his next target. Motion ahead and to his right caught his eye. One of the bad guys was trying to circle around to get a better angle for a shot. Pretty sure that Nicholas wouldn't be able to see him thanks to a support pillar, Alex stood up quickly, gave a low whistle and waved to the creeping bad guy before making an up gesture. Confused, the man straightened up and waved back, for about half a second which was how long it took Nicholas to put a bullet in him after his head and shoulders appeared over the partition wall.
'Idiot,' Alex thought to himself, dropping back down again.
By his count there was just one more of the weasels skulking around, not that Nicholas knew that, and 'defend' had definitely become 'seek and destroy'. Alex worked his way around the area, slipping from cubicle to cubicle and scurrying across the artificially created clearways as swiftly and as quietly as he could. He mentally promised his back a long soak in a hot bath the next day as he resolutely ignored the little spasms that running hunched over caused. Frequently he stopped, back against the inadequate partitions, to listen for any sound of life.
"Hey?" a low hissed voice sounded off to the side of the room, "Guys?"
Alex froze, waiting.
"Guys?" it came again, "Did you get them?"
Alex bit back the facetious desire to yell 'nearly, just you to go' just to see what would happen. The last one had obviously been left to guard a different door to the one through which Alex had entered and had got curious. He could see why they had left him behind. It was almost an anti-climax.
By pure, dumb, luck the schmuck wandered right down the aisle next to the cubicle where Nicholas and Azzam were holed up, calling quietly to his friends the entire way. If he had been one of Alex's men then Alex would have shot him himself out of shear embarrassment. This one was definitely local talent from the accent and green enough that he didn't even have his gun ready. Alex almost felt sorry for him as Nicholas kicked out at the man's legs as he went by, making him stumble, and sucker punched him before he worked out what had happened. Hand over the man's mouth, Nicholas painfully dragged the barely conscious body into their hiding place and out of sight.
That was it: game over.
He wished he dared check on Nicholas more closely. From the glimpse he had got, Nicholas' was in pretty bad shape despite the impressive display, paler than normal, maybe even a little shock-y, sweat dampening his hairline. He hadn't seen Azzam, but Alex had seen the blood on Nicholas' suit, mostly down one arm, an arm that Nicholas had stuck between the buttons of his suit jacket, using the garment as a makeshift sling. A lucky shot, or unlucky from their side's perspective, when he took Bad Guy One down. Even if it was just a scratch, and with that much blood loss Alex wasn't convinced, Nicholas must have been running on adrenaline and sheer bloody-mindedness. Even his suit breast was covered in blood and Alex just hoped that it was transference from his sleeve.
Alex looked at his watch. It was amazing to think that less than fifteen minutes had passed since he had left the security office. It was time for Alex to make himself scarce. Dropping the still cool gun by the still warm body on the way, Alex slipped out of the maintenance door as the first black and white screamed to a halt in front of the building.
Next Part...
Author:
fidesPairing: Jack/Ianto, Mulder/Krycek (mostly UST), Mark/Nicholas discussed but whether there is any truth behind the suggestion is open to the reader's interpretation
Fandom: X-Files/Torchwood/Dr Who/The State Within
Rating: NC-17 overall (most parts PG/PG-13, only one part is NC-17 and that part can be skipped with minimum confusion if you want to read the plot but are put off by the idea of graphic sex)
Warnings: Spoilers for The State Within. Some violence and fantasy sexual violence
Disclaimer: None of the recognisable characters are mine, Santa has been really falling down on his job recently, but belong to their respective right holders
Sequal to 1. Plus Ça Change, 2. Hobson's Choice
Prequel to Interlunation
Previous Parts: Part 1 - Prologue -:- Part 2 - Sir Mark -:- Part 3 - Jack -:- Part 4 - Azzam -:- Part 5 - Mulder -:- Part 6 - Skinner -:- Part 7 - Scully -:- Part 8 - George -:- Part 9 - Alex and Fox -:- Part 10 - Doctor -:- Part 11 - William -:- Part 12 - Ianto -:- Part 13 - Samantha -:- Part 14 - Yasmine and Chandon -:- Part 15 - Phileas
Summary: Finding out Jack's secret in the worst possible way (Hobson's Choice), Alex takes a break from Torchwood Three while he comes to terms with events and his anger towards Jack. To give him the time he needs, Jack arranges a secondment for Alex at the British Embassy in Washington working with the secret service to counter threats to the Ambassador's family. But with Mulder around things don't go to plan and Alex discovers that aliens aren't that easy to leave behind.
Notes: I know that the timelines don't quite fit so I decided to fudge things a little because it was too tempting to compare Torchwood and the Consortium. This story is set concurrent with the early part of X-Files season 6, during the second half of Torchwood season 1, during the time of the 12th Doctor (Doctor Who) and about a year after the events in The State Within. In depth (or indeed any) knowledge of the included fandoms isn't required so please don't let them put you off. Thanks to
moth2fic for the beta. Any and all remaining mistakes are own.There was something hearteningly familiar about infiltrating a building and holding a fuming security guard captive. Alex considered reassuring the man that his intentions were good but, in his experience, such words were rather overshadowed by the presence of his gun so he didn't bother. The ski mask probably didn't help matters either. He had found himself impressed by the security set-up. While the individual businesses had been understandably reluctant to have cameras in their private areas the public areas from foyer to roof by way of the stairs and lifts were all a voyeur's wet dream of closed circuit feeds. He familiarised himself with the system while the guard obstinately confirmed that the restraints which Alex had used on him were completely secure. Satisfied that he had deleted any electronic trace of himself he settled back to watch the screens and amuse himself with the guard's futile attempts at resistance. It took his mind off how much the wool-blend made his nose itch.
The guard, whose name Alex hadn't bothered to check, had given up struggling by the time that the car carrying Nicholas and Azzam pulled into range of the cameras in the underground car park. He followed them as they walked from one monitor to the next. In another situation he would have smiled to watch the two of them, so different in so many ways but sharing a similar quietness as they walked. The glimmerings of hero-worship visible in the small ways that Azzam had begun to mimic Nicholas' movements and the little reaffirming looks up at Nicholas which he must have been aware of but pretended not to see. Instead Alex slid a glance towards the guard to check if his interest had been noticed. From the still horror in the guard's bearing it had and the obvious conclusions had been drawn. They both tracked the man and boy through the morning swirl of people: workers hurrying to their jobs, others procrastinating, small clumps amid the flow, as the excuse of social niceties or informal consultations kept them away from their desks for just that short while longer. Receptionists signed for packages from delivery couriers who looked at the drab uniformity with disdain and visitors filled out their credentials and waited for their escorts to take them away to every corner of the building. Alex searched the faces of each and every one, looking for ones that matched the photographs that George had shown him and Mark.
The interiors of the elevators showed in grainy black and white, the physical limitations necessitating cameras that were not as good as those in the rest of the building. Still, Alex was grateful they were there at all as Nicholas shepherded Azzam into the rightmost one, positioning himself between the boy and the motley collection of suits. Alex sucked in a breath as he automatically scanned the crowd; one of the attackers was there with them.
It was a tall building and from the flurry at the elevator buttons the journey would not be fast. From the camera's vantage point, Alex could see the suspect work his way nearer to Nicholas when the press of people allowed, occasionally to be pushed away by a new flow of entrants but steadily closing on them. This was it, Alex realised. The attack would either come in the elevator if the uncooperative morning rush allowed or it would come as they left, they and their assailant likely the only ones disembarking at their floor given the absence of other offices on it. There was no way he could reach the floor in time although a call to the psychologist's receptionist might produce a witness who would at least slow things down and complicate the issue.
Nicholas bent down and said something to Azzam. On the next floor they let the influx of people carry them away from the man and position them close to the door. What Nicholas had seen to arouse his suspicions Alex wasn't sure and didn't care because the game had just changed. The next stop gave them the opportunity Nicholas had apparently been planning for. They slipped out of the elevator just as the door was closing. Alex saw the man move for the 'door open' button but the weight of people held him back that moment too long.
"Well done," Alex whispered. The frustrated attacker had only been put off by one floor but it was a good start. Not knowing who he really was, Alex mentally dubbed him Bad Guy One. Alex tracked them both as Nicholas hurried Azzam towards the stairs, and presumably the exit, and Bad Guy One made it out of the elevator at the next stop and pulled out his phone.
Alex caught sight of the second man at the main entrance before Nicholas and Azzam had gone more than a floor and a half. Then the third, fourth and fifth men in quick succession, each by one of the emergency exits. So, that had been the backup plan, catch them on the way out. Bad Guy One moved confidently towards what appeared to be a random area of wall, hanging up as he did so. For a moment Alex wasn't sure what he was doing and then the fire alarm began to scream.
Alex dived under the desk taking advantage of the situation to make a cross-connection which would take down the surveillance feeds on the stairways and the back door as well as a few other minor systems. An electrical fault, common enough but hard to fix without a replacement for the blown part. Given the timing, Alex hoped that the problem would be linked to the alarm. There would be suspicions, naturally, about the convenience, but he could be fairly sure that if the investigation didn't put it down to bad luck they would pin it on one of the nameless attackers.
The triggered evacuation was definitely his cue. With the lack of children in the building, Azzam and Nicholas would be easy to spot but Nicholas was on guard and would see the trap just as easily. His best hope would be to try and lose himself and Azzam within the building, hoping to either get around the attackers or to wait them out until help arrived. Alex planned to tip the odds in Nicholas' favour.
He stood and smiled at the guard who shrank back as far as he was able. Everyone just assumed the worst of him. If Alex had cared about such things he might have felt hurt.
"I'm going to leave now, and you're going to call the police," he informed the man. The guard's eyes widened in surprise as he realised he wasn't facing his last few moments alive. “And you are going to tell them what you saw, or at least most of it as I don't exist." He leaned closer, letting the muzzle of his gun stroke a cold line along the man's jaw. "And, as I don't exist, you won't see me again. You don't want to see me again, do you?"
The guard shook his head as if Alex had asked a question rather than made a statement of fact. On the screens behind them the building began to empty, people pouring from their desks, cubicles and offices and from these tributaries joining others in an unstoppable cascade until they finally pooled together in a roiling mass at the base of the structure.
"That's good," Alex encouraged. "Now I'm going to undo one set of cuffs and you are going to sit quiet. When I get to the door I'll throw you the key for the other set and you can unlock yourself. I'm afraid we have to do it that way just so you don't feel any temptation to try some pointless last minutes heroics, which will just result in you becoming dead, and me becoming irritated because I have to take the time to call the FBI rather than going and helping my friend make sure nothing happens to that little boy. Do we understand each other?"
The guard nodded, giving Alex the distinct impression that the man was really a puppet on a string but Alex still kept his gun trained on him while he undid the first restraint.
"You might want to get them to cancel the fire engines as well." True to his word he flipped the key to the guard as he left. It plopped cleanly onto the guard's lap.
To his surprise the guard called, "Good luck," after him. Just went to show you never could tell. Either that or Stockholm syndrome kicked in a lot sooner than Alex had been led to believe.
Putting the guard from his mind he concentrated on his job. Down was his first move. When Nicholas and Azzam failed to appear the gang would move it, blocking each staircase as they tried to run their quarry to ground.
There were times when Alex had to wonder who had thought stairs were such a good idea. At least down was quicker than up. Four floors down the fire alarm shut off and he could suddenly hear, below him, the sounds of footsteps and the rally of voices bouncing off the walls towards him. He hoped the security guard had the sense to stay put.
At least two men.
The sound of a door somewhere below and then silence.
Alex moved as swiftly as he dared, not wanting to give away his presence. He spotted the man who had been left on guard in the stairwell when he was three floors above him. As Alex crept closer he could see that the man was dividing his attention between the lower stairs and the door to the level, which suited Alex nicely. There was an art to sneaking in boots, but even that would only get Alex so close. Crouched down he eased his way to the landing half a floor above the guard. The guard rail was not totally opaque but it at least offered a little cover. If he wanted the man would be dead before he had had a chance to register the sound of a shot. He took his hand off the grip of his gun and reached for his knife instead.
He got half way down the final flight of stairs before something made the lookout turn. Alex jumped the last few feet, slamming into the startled figure before he could react. His hand wrapped around the man's throat, stifling any sound, while his other slashed at the lookout's gun wrist, severing the tendons. Blood surged as he opened the vein but it lacked the high power rhythm that would indicate that he had also severed the artery. For a second they hung in the moment, a stillborn scream distorting the guard's face, then the gun dropped with a clatter and unfroze them from their tableau. Alex smashed his elbow into the guard's chin, snapping his head sideways and knocking him out.
Bending down, Alex scooped up the dropped gun. He had no intention of leaving anything that could be traced back to him at the scene and that involved bullets from his weapon if he could possibly avoid it. It one of the bastards got shot with his friend's gun however, that was just bad fortune, incompetence or division in the ranks; however the detective felt like interpreting the evidence. All Alex had to do was remember to put the gun back where he found it.
He stepped fastidiously around the pool of blood that was spreading out from the slashed wrist. It was already becoming sluggish. As many failed suicides found, a single, horizontal cut, even a deep one, was not invariably fatal. With a lot of luck and physical therapy he might even get to use the hand again. More importantly to Alex, the blood loss combined with the blow would keep the guy out until backup arrived.
Alex eased open the door. The corridor beyond was the only place where the security cameras could still catch him. Alex quickly measured the distance between his door and the impressive glass portico emblazoned with the name 'Archangel Network'. It wasn't more than a few metres but it could have been a thousand miles. The dummy camera had done its job. The front was splattered with something viscous and the wires leading from it had been cut. Across the corridor the small hole where the real camera was located was little more than a crack in the plaster, lost amid the rest of the decor. Alex considered the angles; it would be a tricky throw and had all the subtlety of Owen on the pull but, in the circumstances, it was the best he could do. As quickly as he could he shrugged out of his leather and slipped the obviously borrowed suit jacket off the man he had downed. The man moaned slightly at the rough handling but did not wake up. Ignoring the bloody sleeve, Alex slipped the good one over his right arm. If something was going to appear on the camera then Alex wanted to it point to one of the attackers. Using the door to shield him as much as he could, he hefted the knife, flipped it over and launched it at the gap. The knife quivered in the plasterboard, blocking out part of the hallway from the view of the security system. As quickly as he could he manhandled the suit jacket back on its owner and let him flop back to the floor.
The door to Archangel opened easily, revealing a small reception area and behind it an open plan office with shoulder height partitions stretching out as far as the eye could see. He crouched by the reception desk, looking for any sign of movement and listening for the sounds of Nicholas' pursuit. A cry of "there" sent him running. A flurry of gunshots caused him to sprint faster, gun ready in case he literally ran into someone. He found Bad Guy One sprawled on the floor and staining a swathe of the dingy, faded-blue carpet to a rusty garnet. Of more interest was the dark smear on a cubicle wall across the way. A signpost in blood pointing his way forwards. He grabbed a nearby motivational poster and stuck it over the mark, hiding it.
Nicholas wouldn't stay in the area having been found. The question was where he would go. Making for the stairs was the obvious choice but Alex didn't think that made sense, Nicholas had to know that help was on the way and his best hope, injured, against an unknown number of assailants and with a child, was to hold out until relief arrived. Rather than heading in the direction of the nearest stairs, Alex headed deeper into the office.
Another body told him he was going in the correct direction. Whether this one was dead or not Alex didn't bother to stop and check but the angle of the neck suggested that it was the former. The body was slumped on the chair in a cubicle, head lolling back as if the occupant had just fallen asleep in his chair. Alex didn't envy the actual owner of the bay. Still, maybe the company was willing to spring for new furniture; even Torchwood covered full valet service on expenses in the event of deaths within employee's personal vehicles.
He continued on, the short carpet helping to silence his footfalls as he hurried forwards. He tried to think like Nicholas would, thankful for those long evenings which had given him an idea of the other man's tactics. The flicker of movement sent him diving for the floor before he realised it was a reflection in a window. Just a flash of yellow, there and then gone like the Cardiff sun behind the clouds. Nicholas. It had to be; none of the attackers had been blond.
The last three assailants were hidden somewhere within the maze of cubicles, and bearing down on Nicholas and Azzam. They weren't good but there were enough of them that they didn't have to be. Alex had spotted a few gang colours atop the badly fitting suits, possibly recruited local talent. He wondered what they had been told, or whether they had even bothered asking any questions beyond how much. Maybe if they had done they might have had a longer life expectancy. Backing up quickly, and away from where he knew Nicholas to be, he set about doing what he did best - confusing the issue.
When he judged he was far enough away Alex ducked into a cubicle. A small, furry, green creature watched him with its beaded eyes from the top of the monitor while stacks of books defied any clear desk policy in operation. With a mental apology to the cubicle's occupant Alex grabbed the creature. It looked vaguely like something from one of Torchwood's archives and flew like an un-aerodynamic, fuzzy brick. It did, however, hit the pot of pens and pencils in the opposite bay with a satisfying rattle and thud. Alex crouched down and waited to see who came to investigate. It was easy to grab the bastard as he went past. The hardest thing was not going for the quick neck snap but Alex wanted to leave a few alive to answer questions. It wasn't like they could identify him.
Moving on quickly he searched for his next target. Motion ahead and to his right caught his eye. One of the bad guys was trying to circle around to get a better angle for a shot. Pretty sure that Nicholas wouldn't be able to see him thanks to a support pillar, Alex stood up quickly, gave a low whistle and waved to the creeping bad guy before making an up gesture. Confused, the man straightened up and waved back, for about half a second which was how long it took Nicholas to put a bullet in him after his head and shoulders appeared over the partition wall.
'Idiot,' Alex thought to himself, dropping back down again.
By his count there was just one more of the weasels skulking around, not that Nicholas knew that, and 'defend' had definitely become 'seek and destroy'. Alex worked his way around the area, slipping from cubicle to cubicle and scurrying across the artificially created clearways as swiftly and as quietly as he could. He mentally promised his back a long soak in a hot bath the next day as he resolutely ignored the little spasms that running hunched over caused. Frequently he stopped, back against the inadequate partitions, to listen for any sound of life.
"Hey?" a low hissed voice sounded off to the side of the room, "Guys?"
Alex froze, waiting.
"Guys?" it came again, "Did you get them?"
Alex bit back the facetious desire to yell 'nearly, just you to go' just to see what would happen. The last one had obviously been left to guard a different door to the one through which Alex had entered and had got curious. He could see why they had left him behind. It was almost an anti-climax.
By pure, dumb, luck the schmuck wandered right down the aisle next to the cubicle where Nicholas and Azzam were holed up, calling quietly to his friends the entire way. If he had been one of Alex's men then Alex would have shot him himself out of shear embarrassment. This one was definitely local talent from the accent and green enough that he didn't even have his gun ready. Alex almost felt sorry for him as Nicholas kicked out at the man's legs as he went by, making him stumble, and sucker punched him before he worked out what had happened. Hand over the man's mouth, Nicholas painfully dragged the barely conscious body into their hiding place and out of sight.
That was it: game over.
He wished he dared check on Nicholas more closely. From the glimpse he had got, Nicholas' was in pretty bad shape despite the impressive display, paler than normal, maybe even a little shock-y, sweat dampening his hairline. He hadn't seen Azzam, but Alex had seen the blood on Nicholas' suit, mostly down one arm, an arm that Nicholas had stuck between the buttons of his suit jacket, using the garment as a makeshift sling. A lucky shot, or unlucky from their side's perspective, when he took Bad Guy One down. Even if it was just a scratch, and with that much blood loss Alex wasn't convinced, Nicholas must have been running on adrenaline and sheer bloody-mindedness. Even his suit breast was covered in blood and Alex just hoped that it was transference from his sleeve.
Alex looked at his watch. It was amazing to think that less than fifteen minutes had passed since he had left the security office. It was time for Alex to make himself scarce. Dropping the still cool gun by the still warm body on the way, Alex slipped out of the maintenance door as the first black and white screamed to a halt in front of the building.
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