Chapter Text
Tracking Yassen Gregorovich when he didn’t want to be found was a daunting prospect. There would be clues: the firefight, footprints or tire tracks that he couldn’t cover in his haste perhaps. But Alex felt very much that if he ever had to play a game of hide and seek, Yassen would win. Most of Sagitta seemed to agree. Adams was running copilot, studying the map Alex had pulled up of the area. He and Marcus were comparing notes across the back seat. With Ivey gone, Mace had stepped into the driver’s seat and Shale… Shale was sitting in his traditional spot next to Alex, his eyes closed, listing slightly with every movement of the car through the rainwashed streets.
The tired, irritated part of him wanted to snap and demand his attention on the mission. But another, more reasonable part won out. Somehow. Shale above anyone in Sagitta understood Yassen in a way that even Alex was challenged to. Mikato had fundamentally changed their relationship and resulted in an unspoken acknowledgment of skill. There had been rumors of Shale moving to Danube for that reason - teasing remarks amongst Sagitta quelled by a late night and very, very quiet conversation with Shale never to be repeated that Yassen’s priority was always Alex’s safety. ‘And he trusts me with that’ went unsaid. It had settled Alex at the time. Having Yassen’s approval of Sagitta had meant more to Alex than he had ever thought. It settled him more now that he needed an objective opinion about Yassen’s movements.
“Five minutes out,” Mace announced and Alex took that as his cue.
“What do you think?” He asked over the roar as the car rumbled on.
Shale cracked a very alert eye at him. “We won’t find much.” Simple but Alex already knew that. He waited. “I agree that he is alive but I think that there is more at play.”
“You think it’s a test.” The thought from his conversation with Three came back. The stakes on this were so high. He had tortured, had killed a strike team commander. They were replaceable, everyone was, but…for something like this. If it was a test, Aquila could all but sign their own death warrants, but then maybe that had been the plan all along. He had looked into their history; it hadn’t been impressive but then neither had Sagitta’s when Alex chose them. Their records could easily have been falsified to give the impression of competence.
“We’ve been through quite a few but…” Shale trailed off, as the car lurched violently again. A look up showed that the entire team had gone quiet, not even pretending to eavesdrop. Alex couldn’t bring himself to blame them. As much intel as they could get. “I think it’ll be very telling where the footprints stop.”
Tire tracks and it meant that it was a test… or he had been captured, but Alex had all but ruled that out. Right? If they disappeared then Yassen was out there, somewhere, and despite all of the other things they had done, he and Alex had never agreed on a safehouse independent of SCORPIA. Likely because Yassen thought that even with him gone that Alex was safest in SCORPIA. Three wanted to retire. Alex was his key to that. Ignoring operatives like Nile and Crux who were too set in their ways to be contenders for the Board, but could fit in a pinch. Privately Alex didn’t think himself indisposable. If…when he saw Yassen again he would fix that.
“And what’s the plan after?” It was Adams, eyeing Alex in the rearview mirror.
Good question and one Alex hadn’t really considered. Dr. Three had all of the cards - worst case, which was, unquestionably what he was asking, Yassen was alive having escaped Three’s assassination attempt and they went hunting while trying to avoid Danube, Three, and everything else the man would throw at them to get Alex back. He had been slowly storing away funds and papers courtesy of the carefully cultivated paranoia that Yassen had worked so hard to instill in him. Just in case. But he didn’t have enough resources to shelter Sagitta too. “Depends on what we find.”
That seemed to satisfy them and the car went quiet for the barest moments before Mace announced, “We’re here.”
Alex glanced out into the dusky gloom. This was it. The Y street, the red stucco row washed out in the Sao Paulo sun until it was almost pink, and the black stain on the street from whatever Danube had laid down. He piled out after Shale.
All but Marcus had fanned out quickly and then regrouped. Safe. He supposed. Mace was back moments later. Mace had immediately gone over to the blast zone. Unsurprising. Explosives were definitely his thing. Him and Jarek. “Low level explosive more for show than to disable. Not enough to cause any injuries. He would have been fine to take off on foot.”
That matched with Alex’s last images of Yassen stepping out of the car with every bit of confidence that he always moved. He could hide an injury but to hear confirmation that, up until then, he hadn’t been hurt, made Alex feel better.
“Alright, let’s go.” he indicated, and found himself pressed behind Marcus.
“Feels wrong.” Marcus murmured. Alex could understand that all of this did but he trusted Marcus’ instincts.
At almost midnight the streets were quiet. It was a more residential area with a few windows filled with yellow light and the domed street lights sometimes flickering that gave them more than enough light to maneuver, but also easy ways to not be brought out into the open. They were five hundred yards up the street following a trail of the bullets Raul had used to flush Yassen up the street before he branched off with Dixon
“To the right.” Alex ordered, toward the safe house, toward safety. Yassen was stubborn but he wasn’t stupid and Raul had confirmed that in his drawing. They picked their way on still following gunshots in crackled pavement. Marcus abruptly stopped.
“Footprints.” Mace alerted, staring into the muddy mire of the ditch. He imagined they would hug close to the wall to stay out of line of fire. It was helpful in tracking too, he supposed. They followed the footsteps now the bullets told a story but the footprints, they had to be Yassen’s. As they reached a bend in the road, the pockmarks switched from the streets to the sides of the houses. Four houses down Alex spied a rust colored stain against the wall at calf height, spatter and suddenly a whole new trail to follow. He bent down to thumb through the red earth. Not enough to be arterial or life threatening. Good. Alex could work with -
“No more blood. Well except for…” he trailed off pointing to what was left of the large bloody stain at head height that had once been Dixon.
“And tire tracks.” It was Mace and Alex once again felt his world shift and tilt.
He turned back to Shale and his conclusion. Tire tracks meant a test - comfortable to go with Danube who he trusted. Maybe. He wanted Yassen alive, wanted to cling on to the hope that it was a test but at the same time it seemed so illogical.
What on earth could the lesson have been? He already knew how to make hard choices, that had been drilled into him again and again. To trust no one? Alex’s trust was already hard-won and hard-kept. It just seemed so pointless.
“Our make?” Alex heard himself asking.
“It’s what we use,” Adams said, it was the confirmation that he knew was coming.
Hill and the others had driven through here presumably looking for Yassen; it was possible that they had come from that part of the recovery mission. But there wouldn’t be nearly enough evidence of how much time passed between them. Danube had arrived maybe twenty minutes later.
“Let’s try the safehouse.” He wasn’t sure what he would find there. Refuse from Aquila’s stay there before they lazed their way back to HQ? Maybe some other evidence of Yassen’s presence, grabbing supplies or something. He doubted it but right now he was desperate.
Grimly, Alex set off and felt more than saw the rest of Sagitta fall into place around him as they walked the blocks back to the car. They didn’t bother trying to be subtle; anyone who intercepted them would be met with lethal force.
As they neared the transport, Alex drew up short in surprise.
Hill was leaning casually against the door, cigarette in hand. He caught Alex’s eye and tossed it to the pavement, crushing it beneath a boot. Alex had been around enough of SCORPIA’s elite to lose the shine of being afraid of them. Being a strike team commander was impressive but it was no Malagosto training. But to be the chosen strike team of Yassen Gregorovich made Hill and his far too casual posture made him seem far more dangerous to Alex than he wanted to admit.
“You know you’re not supposed to leave these unsupervised.” He patted the hood condescendingly “Something could happen.” An obvious provocation.
Alex hummed in response, doing his level best to keep his cool. “Where’s the rest of your team? I know you don’t like playing alone.”
“Around,” Hill shrugged, still unnervingly casual. That was not the answer or tone that Alex expected from his men right now. Maybe Hill still thought Danube was above suspicion, having been at the main safehouse at the time of the attack.
As if on cue, Wright and Reyes stepped into the streetlight, looking large and menacing in the gloom.
The back of Alex’s neck prickled.
“I thought your team was busy scouting out the grid for Yassen?”
“We noticed that you were in our neck of the woods.”
“Well,” Alex said through grinding teeth, “if your woods were a little more forthcoming with intel, we’d be back at the base.”
“We have been providing reports per your instructions, Orion.” Less respectful than mocking. Hill stood, all six feet seven inches of him. A foot taller than Yassen and still several inches above Alex. There was the distinct rustle of fabric, likely around holsters by Sagitta. Alex put up a stilling hand.
“Turns out they were a little less detailed than I liked. I’m sure your reports to Dr. Three were a little more in depth.”
“He’s the Board member.” Hill shrugged again. “He’d like a word with you, actually.”
“I just spoke with him, actually .”
It was Hill’s turn to hum. “Not as recently as I have, I can assure you.” He held out his phone “Since you left yours back at HQ, you might want to borrow this.”
“How polite, but I don’t think that will be necessary.”
“Here’s a tip, kid, you shouldn’t ignore calls from your superiors.” That apparently was disrespectful enough to bring Marcus out from behind him, pistol in hand. Sagitta following suit. Danube was just as fast on the draw.
“Not all of us answer to every dog whistle.” Alex returned with just a little bit of heat which got a satisfied smirk from Hill. “How much did he pay you for this?”
“Going rate. Job’s a job.” Hill didn’t sound the least bit apologetic.
“Of course. A job.” That could mean either snatch and grab or test. “Where is Yassen, Hill?” he asked softly, dangerous and barely audible.
Hill let out a soft huff. “Still haven’t figured it out? Your friend did, Ivey, smart man. Had to keep him away of course, I’m sure you understand.”
Keep him away could mean a hundred things in their line of work. Alex felt very cold. “Is he alive?”
“He is.” It was noncommittal as to his condition. “Everyone is.”
The confirmation of Yassen being alive swept through him like a tidal wave but just as quickly came the backlash. The well spring of anger that Yassen was close, within his grasp but not here. “Where is he?”
“Well that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” Hill smiled.
It was enough to break Alex’s last reserves of patience. Alex’s own gun was up and Hill went suddenly very, very still. Just like Duarte. Pull the trigger and… he wouldn’t get answers. Sagitta would likely be caught in the crossfire. Wherever Yassen was - hiding or safe and likely watching. Alex needed to know. “Where is Yassen....” he was interrupted by a sharp sting at his neck. His eyes instinctively went up to the source of the shot.
Collins his mind registered even as he faded. There was a voice, a familiar one. It meant something but...the world spun ninety degrees and he felt strong arms catch him. There was a flurry of movement around him. Monitors, Alex realized distantly. Then he was out.
—
Alex woke on the plane. Handcuffed. Just like Ramos had, years ago. His weapons were gone. There was nothing sharper than a pillow nearby and even that was out of reach. He was too out of it to do anything more than glare hatefully at Mace who was at his side, checking him over.
Mace was unharmed, all of Sagitta looked to be fine. And while normally that would have reassured Alex, now it just filled him with an impossible fury. How dare they. How dare they.
“Traitors,” he snarled but it came out slurred and broken.
“He’s stable,” Mace announced after his examination.
“Put him back down,” Marcus ordered with a hint of regret.
Alex tried to fight it but he was still weak and sluggish from the first sedative and didn’t stand a chance against his strike team. Seconds later he was sliding back into darkness.
—
Alex woke up slowly, the medicine still wearing off. He was in a familiar bed. Yassen’s apartment in Dubai, he realized after a few minutes of trying to stop the spinning enough to recognize the sparse decor. He groped behind his pillow and his fingers closed over cold metal. He recognized his favored pistol by touch alone. Why would they leave him with a weapon? And why here? Why wasn’t he in some holding cell in Malagosto? Some sort of gloat from Three? It didn’t make sense but none of this had. Not since Yassen’s plane had first touched down in Brazil.
He needed to scope out just what he was dealing with but head still foggy he wouldn’t be going out at his best. They would expect him to come out swinging, that at least, he had gleaned from Steiner’s reports. So he would do the opposite. Wait, find out the situation, and then consider his actions. Patience. Yassen had tried his best to teach him that.
Gathering his wits he slowly opened the door. The lights were on but there was no sound. Nothing to give anything away. He tread softly down the hallway towards the living room, likely where he would encounter whoever had been stationed as his baby sitters. Or maybe Three himself. He wasn’t one for house calls but it still made Alex reflexively wrap around the grip of the gun. With any luck he could take out his third Board member.
Alex had no idea what he was up against. Time to find out. He took a steadying breath and stepped out into the nearly blinding light of the main room. Fingers tightened reflexively on the trigger as he spotted a figure leaning casually against the counter only to freeze when his mind finally registered the face.
He didn’t remember lowering his gun, or the unconscious flick of the safety before it clattered to the floor. Normally that would have merited a disapproving look but the man’s face was neutral, carefully cataloging the emotions whirling through Alex’s eyes. And there were so many - betrayal, fear, anger, relief...It was dizzying.
He slowly approached the man, almost worried that any action would make him go away. Alex needed...he needed to know that he was real, that this wasn’t the sign that he had finally snapped under all the pressure.
He lifted a hand tentatively to Yassen’s face, cupping his cheek like the man had done to him so many times.
Warm.
Real.
Yassen was still here, still alive, unharmed.
Five minutes ago he would have given his life for this, would have killed for it, had killed for it. Had done things he had sworn he would never do for the chance that he could have Yassen back. It was a test and he knew that now. Knew that he passed with flying colors.
He would not be allowed to go back to the morals he had clung to. There would be no more excuses. All because of this test. The anger, the betrayal, the explanations, all bubbled just under the surface. But right now he was too worn thin for them.
He pulled back and there was a wariness in Yassen’s eyes that he was unfamiliar with. His muscles were tensed, ready for a fight, Alex assessed. There wouldn’t be one. Alex turned on his heel and walked back to his room, grabbing the fallen gun as he went.
He ignored the soft call of his name that followed his retreat.
Alex had nothing left to say.