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Title: The Devil You Know
Author: Morgan72uk
Pairing: DeWitt/Dominic
Rating: R I think - for some violence, some sex, language
Spoilers: For season 1
Disclaimer: Yes, well – clearly I own nothing. Not even my house.
Summary: Sometimes rescue is a relative concept
Notes - Sierra gets to make an appearance in this part and despite a search I couldn't find a name for her handler after 1.06. If anyone knows differently I'll happily amend what I have.
Part 1
Part 2
The house stood quiet and still, but Dominic's instincts had not been dulled by however long he'd sojourned in the Attic and he moved with caution. His gun still fit easily into his hand - too easily perhaps. The restraint he'd relied upon as Head of Security was gone now, stripped away. He didn't know what had taken its place - just as he didn't know what would happen when he came face to face with Adelle DeWitt. Would he pull the trigger first and wonder about everything else later? Did he want to rescue her, or hurt her? Was there any great difference between the two?
He didn't exactly have a plan; though he moved swiftly and silently through the grounds, familiarising himself with the layout in preparation for the inevitable fast exit. He could still turn around and leave; abandoning DeWitt to her fate. He didn't know why he hadn't already done so.
He'd been given a sleek black car courtesy of the house. It was fast, with toughened glass in case of a firefight and though the GPS had protested he'd driven it a good ten minutes in the wrong direction before pulling over.
He had a way to contact his handler. If he used it he would be back with the NSA in a matter of hours - with a lengthy debrief to look forward to. He should have been happier at the the prospect of returning to the agency, but his freedom was too precious now for it to be sold into another kind of bondage. Although somehow life on the run from both of his former employers didn't seem like an appealing prospect either.
Plus, he wanted the imprint gone; destroyed. He didn't want Topher, or anyone else, to appropriate his personality, knowledge and experience or worse still to implant another version of him into some other body. So, he'd made his decision, turning around, picking up speed as he headed away from the city. He knew the time he'd hesitated could have cost DeWitt her life and he wondered darkly if he'd feel relieved or robbed if that turned out to be the case. In wasn’t that simple though, because deep down he knew he and Adelle had unfinished business.
He stepped carefully into the hallway - almost certain now that the armed men were gone. In the large open plan living area he found the remnants of a fancy dinner and nine people bound, gagged but otherwise unharmed.
"Where is she?" He asked the first person he untied.
"They left with her - about an hour ago." an hour head start wasn't all that much - except that he had no idea where they'd gone. But he'd noticed the security cameras in the grounds and covering the entrance which, it turned out, hadn't been tampered with. That in itself was a surprise, making him wonder if the kidnappers were idiots. He sighed, imagining what DeWitt would do with them if they were. He'd probably end up rescuing them.
The other thing that he discovered was that at least two of the other guests worked for the Rossum Corporation. That information came in useful when there was a brief debate about calling the cops. He shut it down easily by pointing out that Rossum would handle it, were handling it in fact. He didn't tell them that he wasn't exactly on the company's books these days.
"Why would anyone want to abduct Adelle?"
"Believe me, you don't want to know," Dominic responded; still trying to understand what she had been doing here in the first place. In the years they'd worked together she'd allowed little time for a social life, it seemed she'd decided to rectify the situation - with disastrous results. He almost laughed outloud when he realised that one of the effete bastards was actually supposed to have been her date; he didn't stick around for long enough to figure out which one.
***
Adelle DeWitt htad no idea where she was – which was not something that happened to her very often.
When they’d reached their destination she'd been taken from the van with a hood covering her head and her hands bound in front of her but when the hood was removed she was none the wiser. She appeared to be in a derelict warehouse, but apart from that she had no idea as to her location. The only thing she was sure of was that there was still no sign of Alpha.
Of course she was relieved not to be faced with him, but she knew it remained a real possibility that he'd had her abducted to provoke a rescue mission; one which she very much hoped wasn't coming. She refused to believe that even Alpha could be omniscient enough to have foreseen she'd have the opportunity to warn the House and send it into lock-down, that the lock down had somehow been his intention all along. She wasn't even going to entertain the thought that she'd played into his hands. Instead she was going to do what she did best - negotiate.
They didn't appear to be in much of a hurry to interrogate her; leaving her alone with a single guard - apparently hoping that the waiting would intimidate her. They obviously didn't know her very well.
When they did come for her she was shoved her into a chair in the centre of the main area of the warehouse. The men around her radiated menace - watching and waiting for their leader to decide what to do. He pulled up a chair opposite her and lowered himself onto it. He didn't speak, but his gaze wandered insolently over her body - the silk dress providing an ineffective barrier to the heat in his eyes. She suppressed a shudder and lifted her chin, refusing to look back at him.
"Tell me about the House Adelle," he said quietly, conversationally even, "and we won't hurt you." She wasn't sure she believed him, but it didn't matter.
"I won't do that." He shook his head regretfully and traced a fingertip over her cheek. She didn't flinch or back away, but still she refused to look at him. Her rebuff seemed clear and he sighed; almost disappointed.
"Don't mark the face," he instructed as he stepped away.
***
"I need your active," Dominic said as he climbed into the back of the dark van. It wasn't a request. He disliked being grateful that Langton had contacted the closest handlers, but despite the precaution Sierra's handler still looked as though he wanted to shoot him.
"She's working," he replied firmly - apparently not in too much of a hurry to get DeWitt back.
"Call her and tell her she needs to take a break." He didn't have the skills necessary to find the van that had driven away with what looked a lot like an unconscious Adelle DeWitt in it. But Sierra was currently imprinted with the personality of a highly skilled hacker, who was employed to steal data from some computer firm. It wasn't a smash and grab operation, they were playing the long game with Sierra's persona, Kit, leading the theft from the inside.
"What?" She said a few minutes late as she stepped into the van wearing jeans and a t'shirt with a picture of some weird looking cartoon character on it. She slid into the spare seat with all the confidence and grace of a predator, her eyes glinting with an intelligence that was entirely the product of someone else, perhaps even several someones.
That intelligent gaze became watchful as she looked over at Dominic before turning to her handler, Goring. "Well, this is interesting," she observed. "Normally I don't like being given orders, but I was intrigued. What's going on?" Goring shrugged, his expression making it clear he wasn't going to contribute anything more to this conversation. Dominic was not impressed with his attitude and if he'd still been in charge of security the man would have been in serious trouble, but it wasn't his problem anymore.
"I need your help," he said, unwilling to waste more time.
"An extra job will cost you."
"This one is going to have to be on the house."
"He doesn't look like he has a sense of humour," Kit observed conversationally, "and yet..."
"Mr Dominic is here on behalf of Ms DeWitt," Goring offered, though it sounded like it just about choked him to admit that much. "And she's the one in trouble." Kit's eyes went wide and though Dominic had no more details about what had gone into her profile, clearly somewhere along the line she knew who DeWitt was and understood that anything happening to her was a big deal.
"Why didn't you just say so?" She snapped, moving towards the bank of computers in the van and not so carefully elbowing her handler aside. "What do you have?"
Dominic handed her the recording from the house and once it was loaded up talked her quickly through the frames. "She was last seen in this van. This is the address of the house she was taken from, this is the license plate of the van. I need you to find her."
"You mean you want me to tap into the LAPD's traffic cameras and see if I can find the route the van took?" She was already typing, her expression reminding him of Topher's when he was concentrating. "So you're what, the cavalry?" She glanced at him over her shoulder, "no offense but couldn't they have spared a few more people?"
"It's complicated," he replied shortly.
“It really isn't," she said nonchalantly, "not compared to this. But then I'm pretty smart, which is just as well." He wondered if it was possible that Topher had actually added himself to the imprint - but then decided he didn't want to know.
He watched her work for a few moments longer - before his mind started to drift. Should he feel differently about Sierra and the other actives now he had also been through a wipe? He couldn't process his own experience, wasn't sure there was anything that it could be compared to. He remembered nothing except for the two occasions he had woken in someone else's body and those memories were dominated by the dawning horror of his realisation that in a matter of moments he would cease to exist once again. It was like reliving his own death, over and over; part of the punishment for his betrayal, no doubt.
He didn't know what month it was, what year even and he'd be damned if he'd ask that question now. If he thought about it for too long he figured he'd probably throw up - or go crazy with one of the guns Langton had so generously handed over. It might even be worth it to see how Rossum cleaned that up. Except he doubted that he'd be around to find out.
"You OK?" Kit/Sierra was looking over at him. "You spaced out on us for a moment there."
"Have you found the van?" He said brusquely, refusing to answer her question. He'd always valued discipline and control and he thought that Adelle had understood that about him - which explained why she had stripped him of it in such a basic way.
"You have no faith in me, I'm hurt. Here," she pointed out a section of surveillance footage, "this is the last time I could find any trace of the van, it was taken about 30 minutes ago - they turned off the main road here." She blew up another area of the film, "these look like derelict warehouses, could be where they've taken her. Give me your phone." He obeyed, handing over one of the devices Langton had supplied him with. "You can sync this with the GPS, save you from getting lost. It's going to take you at least an hour to get there."
She was right and what she'd found was enough to go on for now. He nodded once to her, a mark of respect from one professional to another. He was out of the van when the sound of her voice stopped him. "Hey, you want some back up?"
"You offering your services?"
"DeWitt's a good customer and I like to look after people who pay up promptly and don't argue over my expenses." He was almost tempted to accept her offer, having someone with him might keep him from killing Adelle when he found her.
In the end though he shook his head, "thanks - but I've got this one." She didn't seem surprised by his decision.
"I thought you'd turn out to be a go it alone kind of guy. Question is, are you in it for the glory, or the woman?"
"You're the genius - which one is your money on?"
"I don't think you care much about glory." She was right about that - the trouble was he didn't know if he cared about much of anything these days and he had no idea what he thought about the woman.
***
At least they were obedient thugs. They hadn't touched her face and though her ribs hurt they probably weren't broken. Either they thought she was more fragile than she actually was or, and this seemed more likely, they still weren't in much of a hurry.
She pushed herself carefully to her knees - holding onto her dignity seemed ridiculous but she had very little else to hold onto. "Adelle," he offered her a hand which she ignored, gritting her teeth and struggling to her feet. "I really don't want to hurt you, just tell us about the House."
She hesitated, in a negotiation strength was important but so was building a rapport and she'd had a lot of practice at finding a connection with the most unlikely of people. "You have no idea what you're asking about - do you?" He'd never referred to it as the Dollhouse - and there was something about the limited nature of his questions which made her think that he really didn't know what else there was to ask. He seemed pleased to have got her talking, another mistake.
She was damned if she was going to meet her death at the hands of rank amateurs. She had some pride after all.
"Well, I have you and you're going to tell me all about it."
"And then what happens? You pass the information along to someone else? Whoever hired you?" He shrugged, the lack of a denial a confirmation of sorts. This time she moved towards him, her voice lowering to cut out the rest of the group. "You aren't interested in the House, this is just a job for you - one for which I am sure you will be handsomely paid.
"Times are tough. I have to take the work that comes along. It's the economy."
"That's the wonderful thing about capitalism, there's always an opportunity to make more profit. As long as you don't mind changing sides. However much your current employer is paying you - I will double if you let me go unharmed."
"I'm not sure that would go down very well. He's not the kind of man you can double cross, you know how it is."
This time she was prepared to look him in the eyes. "It's extremely likely that you've been set up - that there will be no payment. You really have no idea who you're dealing with."
"All I know is that the man wants what you know and he's prepared to pay to get it. So that's the way it's going to go."
"Your loyalty is admirable, albeit misplaced." She could see the doubt in his eyes, but he shook his head - refusing to heed her warning. "Don't make the mistake of thinking that your employer is the only dangerous person in this equation."
As if to illustrate her point the lights went out, plunging them into darkness. She used the momentary confusion to take a step back from him, listening to the first few orders he snapped out - before they were lost in the thud of a cannister falling and the hissing sound that followed. Tear gas. Was this a rescue, or another ambush?
Her eyes were burning and watering already, the slight dizziness not particularly helping her decision making. She could hear the shouts and the orders - but the gas deadened everything. Even the shots.
Her hands were still tied, she was effectively blind and the fact that everyone else was as well wasn't all that helpful. When someone grasped her arm she had no idea if it was friend or foe. It was instinct that made her struggle against the bruising grip - but the other person was stronger.
Blinking fiercely her vision cleared enough for her to make out the figure dressed in black, complete with body armour. A semi-automatic was clasped easily in his hand and a breathing mask protected him from the effects of the gas.
It could have been Alpha, it was the sort of twisted game he would enjoy. Letting her believe she was being rescued only to torture her further. But what choice did she have? There wasn't even a tenth of a second to decide. She stopped fighting and let him drag her away.
They hadn't made it far when the shooting started - he shoved her behind him as he returned fire and then grabbed her again and started to move. She went reeling at one point. Her eyes were still streaming and with her hands tied she wasn't in much of a position to prevent the fall. She hit the concrete floor with a hard thud, and realised that she'd tripped over a body.
The man in the breathing mask barely stopped moving, dragging her along in his wake and as she scrambled to her feet her fingers brushed metal. She grabbed the gun, feeling moderately better at being armed - though between her blurred vision and tied hands she had no idea if she'd be able to fire the bloody thing.
She'd obviously been too slow because there were more shots, this time closer and before she could turn she felt the flesh of her shoulder burn as a bullet scratched her. She knew the injury couldn't be allowed to slow them down; she'd been shot before - this was nothing in comparison.
He pulled the pin from a grenade and threw it in the direction the gunfire had come from. As it exploded, the ground shook and heat surrounded them but it slowed their pursuers down. She hadn't even realised that they weren't on the ground floor of the warehouse until he stopped beside a decidedly unstable looking metal ladder. She raised her hands, not prepared to even contemplate climbing down with them still tied. His gaze rested on the gun she was holding for a moment - before he pulled a knife from the place it was concealed at his wrist and freed her.
The gas had dissipated enough for her to get a better look at whoever had come to her aid. She was sure that he was a man - but was he the same build as Alpha? The body armour made it difficult to tell and though she wanted to say he wasn't as tall, that could easily be wishful thinking.
As she hit the ground at the bottom of the ladder she decided that out of the frying pan into the fire was not going to be her epitaph. He pulled some kind of cover over the top of the ladder and jumped the rest of the rungs. Evidently he had anticipated her next move, because even as she pointed her gun at him and said coolly, "identify yourself," he raised his own gun.
They stood that way for a heartbeat, face to face, weapons drawn. Then with his free hand he pulled his breathing mask off. “Anyone would think you weren’t pleased to see me Ms DeWitt.”
TBC
Author: Morgan72uk
Pairing: DeWitt/Dominic
Rating: R I think - for some violence, some sex, language
Spoilers: For season 1
Disclaimer: Yes, well – clearly I own nothing. Not even my house.
Summary: Sometimes rescue is a relative concept
Notes - Sierra gets to make an appearance in this part and despite a search I couldn't find a name for her handler after 1.06. If anyone knows differently I'll happily amend what I have.
Part 1
Part 2
The house stood quiet and still, but Dominic's instincts had not been dulled by however long he'd sojourned in the Attic and he moved with caution. His gun still fit easily into his hand - too easily perhaps. The restraint he'd relied upon as Head of Security was gone now, stripped away. He didn't know what had taken its place - just as he didn't know what would happen when he came face to face with Adelle DeWitt. Would he pull the trigger first and wonder about everything else later? Did he want to rescue her, or hurt her? Was there any great difference between the two?
He didn't exactly have a plan; though he moved swiftly and silently through the grounds, familiarising himself with the layout in preparation for the inevitable fast exit. He could still turn around and leave; abandoning DeWitt to her fate. He didn't know why he hadn't already done so.
He'd been given a sleek black car courtesy of the house. It was fast, with toughened glass in case of a firefight and though the GPS had protested he'd driven it a good ten minutes in the wrong direction before pulling over.
He had a way to contact his handler. If he used it he would be back with the NSA in a matter of hours - with a lengthy debrief to look forward to. He should have been happier at the the prospect of returning to the agency, but his freedom was too precious now for it to be sold into another kind of bondage. Although somehow life on the run from both of his former employers didn't seem like an appealing prospect either.
Plus, he wanted the imprint gone; destroyed. He didn't want Topher, or anyone else, to appropriate his personality, knowledge and experience or worse still to implant another version of him into some other body. So, he'd made his decision, turning around, picking up speed as he headed away from the city. He knew the time he'd hesitated could have cost DeWitt her life and he wondered darkly if he'd feel relieved or robbed if that turned out to be the case. In wasn’t that simple though, because deep down he knew he and Adelle had unfinished business.
He stepped carefully into the hallway - almost certain now that the armed men were gone. In the large open plan living area he found the remnants of a fancy dinner and nine people bound, gagged but otherwise unharmed.
"Where is she?" He asked the first person he untied.
"They left with her - about an hour ago." an hour head start wasn't all that much - except that he had no idea where they'd gone. But he'd noticed the security cameras in the grounds and covering the entrance which, it turned out, hadn't been tampered with. That in itself was a surprise, making him wonder if the kidnappers were idiots. He sighed, imagining what DeWitt would do with them if they were. He'd probably end up rescuing them.
The other thing that he discovered was that at least two of the other guests worked for the Rossum Corporation. That information came in useful when there was a brief debate about calling the cops. He shut it down easily by pointing out that Rossum would handle it, were handling it in fact. He didn't tell them that he wasn't exactly on the company's books these days.
"Why would anyone want to abduct Adelle?"
"Believe me, you don't want to know," Dominic responded; still trying to understand what she had been doing here in the first place. In the years they'd worked together she'd allowed little time for a social life, it seemed she'd decided to rectify the situation - with disastrous results. He almost laughed outloud when he realised that one of the effete bastards was actually supposed to have been her date; he didn't stick around for long enough to figure out which one.
***
Adelle DeWitt htad no idea where she was – which was not something that happened to her very often.
When they’d reached their destination she'd been taken from the van with a hood covering her head and her hands bound in front of her but when the hood was removed she was none the wiser. She appeared to be in a derelict warehouse, but apart from that she had no idea as to her location. The only thing she was sure of was that there was still no sign of Alpha.
Of course she was relieved not to be faced with him, but she knew it remained a real possibility that he'd had her abducted to provoke a rescue mission; one which she very much hoped wasn't coming. She refused to believe that even Alpha could be omniscient enough to have foreseen she'd have the opportunity to warn the House and send it into lock-down, that the lock down had somehow been his intention all along. She wasn't even going to entertain the thought that she'd played into his hands. Instead she was going to do what she did best - negotiate.
They didn't appear to be in much of a hurry to interrogate her; leaving her alone with a single guard - apparently hoping that the waiting would intimidate her. They obviously didn't know her very well.
When they did come for her she was shoved her into a chair in the centre of the main area of the warehouse. The men around her radiated menace - watching and waiting for their leader to decide what to do. He pulled up a chair opposite her and lowered himself onto it. He didn't speak, but his gaze wandered insolently over her body - the silk dress providing an ineffective barrier to the heat in his eyes. She suppressed a shudder and lifted her chin, refusing to look back at him.
"Tell me about the House Adelle," he said quietly, conversationally even, "and we won't hurt you." She wasn't sure she believed him, but it didn't matter.
"I won't do that." He shook his head regretfully and traced a fingertip over her cheek. She didn't flinch or back away, but still she refused to look at him. Her rebuff seemed clear and he sighed; almost disappointed.
"Don't mark the face," he instructed as he stepped away.
***
"I need your active," Dominic said as he climbed into the back of the dark van. It wasn't a request. He disliked being grateful that Langton had contacted the closest handlers, but despite the precaution Sierra's handler still looked as though he wanted to shoot him.
"She's working," he replied firmly - apparently not in too much of a hurry to get DeWitt back.
"Call her and tell her she needs to take a break." He didn't have the skills necessary to find the van that had driven away with what looked a lot like an unconscious Adelle DeWitt in it. But Sierra was currently imprinted with the personality of a highly skilled hacker, who was employed to steal data from some computer firm. It wasn't a smash and grab operation, they were playing the long game with Sierra's persona, Kit, leading the theft from the inside.
"What?" She said a few minutes late as she stepped into the van wearing jeans and a t'shirt with a picture of some weird looking cartoon character on it. She slid into the spare seat with all the confidence and grace of a predator, her eyes glinting with an intelligence that was entirely the product of someone else, perhaps even several someones.
That intelligent gaze became watchful as she looked over at Dominic before turning to her handler, Goring. "Well, this is interesting," she observed. "Normally I don't like being given orders, but I was intrigued. What's going on?" Goring shrugged, his expression making it clear he wasn't going to contribute anything more to this conversation. Dominic was not impressed with his attitude and if he'd still been in charge of security the man would have been in serious trouble, but it wasn't his problem anymore.
"I need your help," he said, unwilling to waste more time.
"An extra job will cost you."
"This one is going to have to be on the house."
"He doesn't look like he has a sense of humour," Kit observed conversationally, "and yet..."
"Mr Dominic is here on behalf of Ms DeWitt," Goring offered, though it sounded like it just about choked him to admit that much. "And she's the one in trouble." Kit's eyes went wide and though Dominic had no more details about what had gone into her profile, clearly somewhere along the line she knew who DeWitt was and understood that anything happening to her was a big deal.
"Why didn't you just say so?" She snapped, moving towards the bank of computers in the van and not so carefully elbowing her handler aside. "What do you have?"
Dominic handed her the recording from the house and once it was loaded up talked her quickly through the frames. "She was last seen in this van. This is the address of the house she was taken from, this is the license plate of the van. I need you to find her."
"You mean you want me to tap into the LAPD's traffic cameras and see if I can find the route the van took?" She was already typing, her expression reminding him of Topher's when he was concentrating. "So you're what, the cavalry?" She glanced at him over her shoulder, "no offense but couldn't they have spared a few more people?"
"It's complicated," he replied shortly.
“It really isn't," she said nonchalantly, "not compared to this. But then I'm pretty smart, which is just as well." He wondered if it was possible that Topher had actually added himself to the imprint - but then decided he didn't want to know.
He watched her work for a few moments longer - before his mind started to drift. Should he feel differently about Sierra and the other actives now he had also been through a wipe? He couldn't process his own experience, wasn't sure there was anything that it could be compared to. He remembered nothing except for the two occasions he had woken in someone else's body and those memories were dominated by the dawning horror of his realisation that in a matter of moments he would cease to exist once again. It was like reliving his own death, over and over; part of the punishment for his betrayal, no doubt.
He didn't know what month it was, what year even and he'd be damned if he'd ask that question now. If he thought about it for too long he figured he'd probably throw up - or go crazy with one of the guns Langton had so generously handed over. It might even be worth it to see how Rossum cleaned that up. Except he doubted that he'd be around to find out.
"You OK?" Kit/Sierra was looking over at him. "You spaced out on us for a moment there."
"Have you found the van?" He said brusquely, refusing to answer her question. He'd always valued discipline and control and he thought that Adelle had understood that about him - which explained why she had stripped him of it in such a basic way.
"You have no faith in me, I'm hurt. Here," she pointed out a section of surveillance footage, "this is the last time I could find any trace of the van, it was taken about 30 minutes ago - they turned off the main road here." She blew up another area of the film, "these look like derelict warehouses, could be where they've taken her. Give me your phone." He obeyed, handing over one of the devices Langton had supplied him with. "You can sync this with the GPS, save you from getting lost. It's going to take you at least an hour to get there."
She was right and what she'd found was enough to go on for now. He nodded once to her, a mark of respect from one professional to another. He was out of the van when the sound of her voice stopped him. "Hey, you want some back up?"
"You offering your services?"
"DeWitt's a good customer and I like to look after people who pay up promptly and don't argue over my expenses." He was almost tempted to accept her offer, having someone with him might keep him from killing Adelle when he found her.
In the end though he shook his head, "thanks - but I've got this one." She didn't seem surprised by his decision.
"I thought you'd turn out to be a go it alone kind of guy. Question is, are you in it for the glory, or the woman?"
"You're the genius - which one is your money on?"
"I don't think you care much about glory." She was right about that - the trouble was he didn't know if he cared about much of anything these days and he had no idea what he thought about the woman.
***
At least they were obedient thugs. They hadn't touched her face and though her ribs hurt they probably weren't broken. Either they thought she was more fragile than she actually was or, and this seemed more likely, they still weren't in much of a hurry.
She pushed herself carefully to her knees - holding onto her dignity seemed ridiculous but she had very little else to hold onto. "Adelle," he offered her a hand which she ignored, gritting her teeth and struggling to her feet. "I really don't want to hurt you, just tell us about the House."
She hesitated, in a negotiation strength was important but so was building a rapport and she'd had a lot of practice at finding a connection with the most unlikely of people. "You have no idea what you're asking about - do you?" He'd never referred to it as the Dollhouse - and there was something about the limited nature of his questions which made her think that he really didn't know what else there was to ask. He seemed pleased to have got her talking, another mistake.
She was damned if she was going to meet her death at the hands of rank amateurs. She had some pride after all.
"Well, I have you and you're going to tell me all about it."
"And then what happens? You pass the information along to someone else? Whoever hired you?" He shrugged, the lack of a denial a confirmation of sorts. This time she moved towards him, her voice lowering to cut out the rest of the group. "You aren't interested in the House, this is just a job for you - one for which I am sure you will be handsomely paid.
"Times are tough. I have to take the work that comes along. It's the economy."
"That's the wonderful thing about capitalism, there's always an opportunity to make more profit. As long as you don't mind changing sides. However much your current employer is paying you - I will double if you let me go unharmed."
"I'm not sure that would go down very well. He's not the kind of man you can double cross, you know how it is."
This time she was prepared to look him in the eyes. "It's extremely likely that you've been set up - that there will be no payment. You really have no idea who you're dealing with."
"All I know is that the man wants what you know and he's prepared to pay to get it. So that's the way it's going to go."
"Your loyalty is admirable, albeit misplaced." She could see the doubt in his eyes, but he shook his head - refusing to heed her warning. "Don't make the mistake of thinking that your employer is the only dangerous person in this equation."
As if to illustrate her point the lights went out, plunging them into darkness. She used the momentary confusion to take a step back from him, listening to the first few orders he snapped out - before they were lost in the thud of a cannister falling and the hissing sound that followed. Tear gas. Was this a rescue, or another ambush?
Her eyes were burning and watering already, the slight dizziness not particularly helping her decision making. She could hear the shouts and the orders - but the gas deadened everything. Even the shots.
Her hands were still tied, she was effectively blind and the fact that everyone else was as well wasn't all that helpful. When someone grasped her arm she had no idea if it was friend or foe. It was instinct that made her struggle against the bruising grip - but the other person was stronger.
Blinking fiercely her vision cleared enough for her to make out the figure dressed in black, complete with body armour. A semi-automatic was clasped easily in his hand and a breathing mask protected him from the effects of the gas.
It could have been Alpha, it was the sort of twisted game he would enjoy. Letting her believe she was being rescued only to torture her further. But what choice did she have? There wasn't even a tenth of a second to decide. She stopped fighting and let him drag her away.
They hadn't made it far when the shooting started - he shoved her behind him as he returned fire and then grabbed her again and started to move. She went reeling at one point. Her eyes were still streaming and with her hands tied she wasn't in much of a position to prevent the fall. She hit the concrete floor with a hard thud, and realised that she'd tripped over a body.
The man in the breathing mask barely stopped moving, dragging her along in his wake and as she scrambled to her feet her fingers brushed metal. She grabbed the gun, feeling moderately better at being armed - though between her blurred vision and tied hands she had no idea if she'd be able to fire the bloody thing.
She'd obviously been too slow because there were more shots, this time closer and before she could turn she felt the flesh of her shoulder burn as a bullet scratched her. She knew the injury couldn't be allowed to slow them down; she'd been shot before - this was nothing in comparison.
He pulled the pin from a grenade and threw it in the direction the gunfire had come from. As it exploded, the ground shook and heat surrounded them but it slowed their pursuers down. She hadn't even realised that they weren't on the ground floor of the warehouse until he stopped beside a decidedly unstable looking metal ladder. She raised her hands, not prepared to even contemplate climbing down with them still tied. His gaze rested on the gun she was holding for a moment - before he pulled a knife from the place it was concealed at his wrist and freed her.
The gas had dissipated enough for her to get a better look at whoever had come to her aid. She was sure that he was a man - but was he the same build as Alpha? The body armour made it difficult to tell and though she wanted to say he wasn't as tall, that could easily be wishful thinking.
As she hit the ground at the bottom of the ladder she decided that out of the frying pan into the fire was not going to be her epitaph. He pulled some kind of cover over the top of the ladder and jumped the rest of the rungs. Evidently he had anticipated her next move, because even as she pointed her gun at him and said coolly, "identify yourself," he raised his own gun.
They stood that way for a heartbeat, face to face, weapons drawn. Then with his free hand he pulled his breathing mask off. “Anyone would think you weren’t pleased to see me Ms DeWitt.”
TBC
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