Chapter Text
Thomas knew he was a prick. A spoiled, pompous prick, just like Alexander said. He was rich and normally didn’t have to go on missions as dangerous as this. The only real reason the man was a Rank 0 was that he was smart… not because he was strong, or brave, or really that useful.
So, as Thomas replaced his casual clothing with his infrequently used combat gear, he felt like vomiting. For a moment, he thought of Alexander in this uniform… the little shit was so small that he wasn’t even average height for a man. Yet, for some reason, his back looked so wide and Alexander looked so tall when he wore this. If Alexander can wear this uniform and go into battle proudly, then so could he.
Before they left, a plan had been decided. Peggy was the best driver of all of them, so she would stay in the car as their escape if all went bad. They had managed to get their hands on a blueprint of C3, which happened to include a skylight. Eliza was physically the weakest, so she was going to play sniper today. Hercules (strongest) and Lafayette (strategist) would take the front, John (medic) and Angelica (best with handguns) would be on the sides, with Madison (lockpick/tech), Burr (usually the most alert), and Thomas in the back. Lee, Seabury, and Washington were going back to the office where it would be safer, as anyone Rank A and above weren’t allowed to go on field missions.
The group walked down the hill, silent as a million thoughts flooded their minds. Not only were their innocent children involved, but they also had friends and family trapped by King. That wasn’t even touching Alexander’s situation. The immigrant was powerful, strong. Almost god-like in his abilities. If he had bargained his life away, deeming King too powerful to deal with, then what chance did the rest of them stand?
“You know, Alexander had an interesting theory on the soldiers,” Angelica spoke up, as they clambered into a van together. The engine started and they were racing off, waiting for her to finish whatever she was going to say. “He said there was a difference between an okay soldier, a good soldier, an excellent soldier, and a perfect soldier.”
“Oh? I haven’t heard this one before.” Peggy turned up the radio while asking curiously. Soft classic music made the atmosphere less tense, relaxing the whole car.
“He said that an okay soldier could fight and shoot a gun. A good soldier knew that they could die at any time and was ready for it. And an excellent soldier not only was ready to die but wanted to,” There was a pause for a moment, as the group considered this.
“What was a perfect soldier then?” Eliza folded her hands in a prayer position and gripped them tightly.
“A dead one,” Angelica swallowed. “Alexander said he would never be a perfect soldier.”
“He better keep his word, then.” Hercules slammed his hand against the armrest, shaking the car. Street lights passed through the car, illuminating the anxiety-ridden faces of the agents. They glanced up, seeing the creepily lit “King’s Suppliers” sign right ahead.
Something inside Thomas’s chest grew tight with fear as they turned into the mass of buildings, warehouses, and sheds. Peggy stopped the car ahead of the line of C buildings, turning everything off.
“If I take you any further, they’ll notice the car sounds and lights. They might already be aware that we’re here.” She whispered, brown curls nodding as she raised a fist. A secret symbol of hope, of good luck.
As quietly as possible, they snuck out of the car. Thomas had been trained not to make noise when he walked, but he could still hear bits of gravel underneath his boots. It made him cringe, screaming internally. He fell into the back of the group, next to Madison and Burr.
If Thomas could have charged all the way to that stupidly pale blue building, he would have. But the man knew that if he tried, Angelica and Hercules would beat the shit out of him before he made it past the front of the formation. So, all that was left was to walk behind them, slowly.
100 feet.
75 feet.
50 feet.
25 feet.
10 feet.
5 feet.
It felt like at any moment, someone was going to pop out and attack them. Someone probably was, if Thomas was being honest with himself. Still, he pushed forward with the hope that Alexander was right in that building, just a minute away from being in his arms.
The lock?, Eliza signed. It was lucky that all of them had been required to take basic sign language. Hercules shook his head in confusion, pointing his arm at the unlocked door.
Maybe he unlocked it before? , John quickly signed out. Lafayette shook his head, pointing at the ground and how there wasn’t any lock nearby. Grimacing, Thomas nodded his head towards the door, telling them it was time to move on. Eliza moved around the side of the building, to get into a position to snipe.
“All of you, we have visuals. Your cameras have automatically been activated… go ahead, whenever you’re ready.” Thomas nearly jumped from shock. The earpiece he’d been forced to wear had been quiet so far, but now Washington’s voice was loud in his ear.
Hercules pushed the door open slowly, before throwing it and rushing in, guns blazing. Thomas and the others followed suit but stopped short, nearly colliding.
No one. There wasn’t a single soul in sight, no sounds of breathing, or any sort of movement. Dust particles stirred, but that was it. Thomas’s eyes flew frantically around the room, looking for any sort of sign that someone was here and alive.
“Flashlights on,” Burr said from behind Thomas. A few clicking sounds and Thomas inhaled sharply.
There was blood splayed across the very spot they were standing, as well as a hairband. Alexander’s hairband. A fair amount of ripped out hair was mixed in as well.
“Is that…” Thomas never showed his fear. Never. But his voice cracked so badly that he forgot to be quiet.
“No. It’s not his.” John spoke softly, in relief. He shifted his light to a pair of night-goggles. “See? Alexander probably slammed his elbow in whoever was attacking’s nose. It must have landed a bull’s eyes, because of the pattern of the blood on the ground. Plus, it probably knocked off their night-vision goggles.”
“Putain de tricheur!” Lafayette swore loudly. He was right… that was fucking cheating, using night vision goggles. Although no one said it had to be a fair match.
The group spread out, moving around the empty warehouse. Except for the end of the building, which held a bunch of boxes, it was empty. Thomas walked to the middle of the room, where the blood seemed to have been spilled.
A trail of blood, from one side of the room to the center had been left. Panic flooded Thomas, only one thing on his mind when he laid eyes on the coffins… Was Alexander dead?
“Guys, you need to see this…” Burr called out, standing next to a coffin. The lid of the coffin was off, so the rest of the team rushed over. Inside laid a young lady, matching the description of Cassandra Francis. Her forehead was damp with sweat and her face twisted like she was having a nightmare.
John took over instantly, he checked her pulse and listened to her breathing. He shook her, watching her eyes fly wide open. The young lady sat up and coughed violently.
“She’s… alive.” Madison looked shocked. The rest of the group did too. “Search the other ones!”
The group frantically flew through the coffins, discovering more of the missing children on the case and some that were not on the case file either. The children began waking up, coughing, and blinking to their new surroundings.
“Oi,” Thomas turned around, about to smack whatever had grabbed onto his shirt. It was Cassandra who had grabbed on tightly, swaying. “I don’t know much and you don’t have much time, but I’ll tell you what I do know.”
“Huh?” Thomas sat the girl down, kneeling next to her. Angelica, Burr, Madison, and Lafayette joined him, while Hercules and John continued to search.
“The man you’re looking for is George King. He’s not here anymore. Neither are several of the hostages, including the agent that came from you.” Cassandra spoke weakly, but confidently. She was wearing a white shirt and pants. She hadn’t been kidnapped in that outfit.
“Where is he?” Madison sat down, criss-cross applesauce.
“Dunno. King didn’t say. But I think that agent that came is injured, really badly. King had a fit before he left and took everyone with him. Something about his people.” The girl blinked her hazel eyes in an impatient manner. They seemed to ask what he was waiting for. “Everyone here was in a coma-kinda state. Could hear, breath, think… couldn’t move. Not important now, though.”
“Cassandra, we need…” Before Burr could even finish his statement, she spoke over him.
“They left this building six minutes and thirty-six seconds ago. I haven’t heard the car start yet, either. You didn’t leave anyone outside, did you?”
Eliza. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Agent E. Skyular, come in. Agent E. Skyular, come in! Hell, Eliza, are you there?!” Static. Nothing came in, not even Washington.
“They cut us off.” Hercules made his way over to them, throwing his earpiece onto the ground. “Alex is injured badly too, based on the bloody mess over there.”
“He still has Nicolas Fish, Jane Kirstien, and James Reynolds. As well as Agent Hamilton and most likely Agent E. Skyular, now. Everyone else has been recovered.” John trudged back, eyes full of anxiety. “We need a plan.”
“Then make one, idiots. It’s been seven minutes and eleven seconds since you got here.” Cassandra spoke with passion. A quick glance around the room had everyone knowing what was next.
“John needs to stay here, he’s the only real medic on the team. Lafayette should stay as well, to help protect the hostages. Angelica, King might have an interest in you. Stay here as well.” The three nodded when Thomas spoke, guns ready to shoot at any moment.
“Madison, we’ll need you to pick any locks. Hercules… we’re going to need that strength. Burr, you’re a decent strategist and you know King the best, so I’m dragging you along as well.” Without another word, the rescue group took off outside, in hopes of spotting any clue to where he went.
As they raced back to their car, they realized Peggy was gone as well… a trail of blood leading away from the car and out of the warehouse area. A hint, a clue. Anything worked.
With the speed of a demon and the skills of a drunkard, the van was moving… latching onto the sight of the only other vehicle on the road.
‘Hang on, Alexander… We’re almost there.’ Thomas thought to himself. He should have kept a tighter grip on the wheel instead…