Work Text:
Tit For Tat
Copley stepped out of the black Range Rover in a semi shell-shocked state. He couldn't quite believe that he was still breathing. The level of violence he had just witnessed was something beyond anything he had ever experienced whilst working for the CIA. He had seen how effective the team of immortals had been at doling out death from the safety of a monitor several thousand miles away but to be so close to the action had been very unnerving to say the least. Just one member, the woman currently named Andy, had ruthlessly cleaved her way through nearly a dozen men in an effort to save and protect her fellow team mates.
They were lucky to make their escape when they did, even luckier that they'd managed to procure two members of the truly unique team...'Joe & Nicky' were on their way to the airfield and should be arriving at any moment.
He made his way to the concrete apron just in front of a few empty hangers where Merrick's Gulfstream jet was waiting. He was quickly followed by Keane and several more of his men as they filed out of the vehicle, joining him by the airstairs. In the distance the headlights of the armoured van carrying their precious cargo drew nearer.
Soon it was pulling up beside the nose of the plane and Keane and his men quickly formed a half perimeter around the rear doors. The burly leader walked confidently up to the back of the vehicle to open the double doors. As soon as he released the catch and pulled the doors back, a body fell to the ground with a heavy thud. Recognising it as one of his men, he instantly raised his hand gun. Several other weapons were cocked in quick succession, all aimed at the two remaining conscious men inside. One sitting on the floor, the other on a bench, both spattered with fresh blood but neither looking worse for ware. If it wasn't for the zip ties and leg shackles you'd be forgiven for thinking they were passengers and not prisoners.
“I don't suppose it would be possible to get these chains off of us?” Nicky asked Keane half heartedly as he raised his zip tied hands out momentarily and stole a quick glance at Joe.
“Get'em out! Get'em out! Get them on the plane now!! Keane ordered his men, his voice a mixture of anger and disgust.
“I guess not,” Joe surmised despondently as another armed man jumped up into the van and proceeded to haul his Nicolo up off the floor and roughly pushed him outside at gunpoint.
It was then the Italian spotted Copley, the ex-CIA operative that had employed them, tasking them with a seemingly righteous mission to rescue a group of kidnapped school girls being held captive in South Sudan but it was all a lie, a falsehood created to confirm their unique abilities and most likely to ensure their incarceration.
Nicky eyed him with obvious disappointment.
“We are usually a better judge of character,” he informed the silent man as he was pushed forward again towards the stairs, it was awkward as the leg shackles only allowed for limited movement.
“I suppose you are taking us to the person who paid for your betrayal,” he continued as he climbed the steps, completely ignoring the gun at his back but once again he was met with silence and he entered the plane unanswered.
Meanwhile Joe was also being dragged at gunpoint towards the steps a firm grip on his upper right arm directing him. Despite his current situation he appeared in good spirits and seemed impressed.
“It's a nice plane,” he noted as he was pushed past Copley and guided up the stairs.
“There's a tv Joe!” he heard Nicky calling out from inside the cabin.
“Champagne?” he enquired, again completely ignoring the fact that they are being held against their will.
As soon as both men had entered the plane Copley looked to Keane, silently second guessing his life choices. Their prisoners may be restrained but he knew how dangerous both could be and he wasn't looking forward to spending time with them in an enclosed space. As he reluctantly climbed the stairs he just hoped Keane's men were up to the task if things went wrong.
The mercenary headed back over to the armoured van and leaned down to check the body on the ground for a pulse, it came as no surprise when he found none. He then stepped up into the vehicle to check the remaining bodies. Blood splattered the interior walls like some grotesque Jackson Pollock painting. He found two more with their necks expertly snapped but one man was still alive.
He was pretty sure the man's name was Williams and he shook him to try and revive him. The man stirred and he shook him more roughly.
“Williams! Wake up!” he shouted harshly.
The man's eyes finally fluttered open as he groaned, he looked a little dazed and the left side of his face was already quite swollen, possibly a fractured jaw.
“Are you with me Williams? How many fingers?” he demanded as he held two fingers in front of the man's face.
He could see the man struggling to focus but eventually he was answered by a muttered “Two.”
“Good, now get up,” he ordered as he hoisted the man shakily to his feet. He swayed ever so slightly but reached out and steadied himself against the door frame. Keane jumped out first ready to catch the man should he fall but to his credit Williams managed to get out safely, all be it slowly. Once he was more in control of his faculties, Keane was going to grill him and find out what the hell had happened inside the van, that had led to the deaths of three of his men. For now he would get the wounded man on board but whatever medical attention he needed would have to wait till they were back in England. He pulled out a spare Glock 19 from behind his back and handed it to the man as he leaned against the van taking a few deep breaths.
Williams took it, hands shaking ever so slightly he checked the chamber ensuring it was loaded. He felt more at ease knowing he was armed. Not that it would be permanently effective against those two bastards but he could put them out of action for a while if needs be.
Keane made a quick call to arrange for a 'clean up' then looked to Williams.
“You good?” he asked curtly still not sure if he was more concerned or annoyed.
The man simply nodded in reply.
“Let's go then,” Keane directed as he made his way to the airstairs.
The pilot was obviously working through his pre-flight checks and as they both climbed the steps, the twin engines began to come to life. The high pitched whine was dulled once the stairs were retracted and the door sealed.
Inside the luxurious cabin all of Keane's remaining men and Copley were buckled in and ready for take off.
The two targets were seated opposite a small table, seat-belts securely fastened, limbs still restrained, but neither man looked overly bothered. The darker one even had a cheeky grin.
'Smug bastard,' Keane thought to himself, he was looking forward to seeing that grin disappear once they got back to Merrick's lab. Once the CEO's Doctor's started peeling layers of both of them the smiles would quickly fade.
He cast a quick glance at Copley who was seated just opposite the two prisoners, he looked a little grey in the face. For an ex-CIA operative, he'd expected the guy to have more stones but Copley wasn't his problem, he'd let Merrick deal with whatever doubts the man was now harbouring.
He made his way to the back of the plane so he could sit behind the two captives and keep a close eye on them. Williams was following slowly behind.
Joe looked up as the last two men boarded the plane and sealed the door. The first guy was big, confident and he'd already surmised that he was the leader of this little motley crew, the second guy was barely holding it together. He recognised him from the van. The hired gun had been so sure of himself surrounded by all his mates, childishly jeering Joe over his concern for his husband. He had dared to put Nicky in a strangle hold after tearing him from Joe's lips. As his Nicolo began to choke and turn a nasty shade of red, Joe had seen red himself and leapt forward attacking the man in a blinding rage. Before long himself and Nicky had dispatched their persecutors and were left to simply wait until the van came to a halt. Now the man looked like a puff of wind could bowl him over and his left jaw was swollen and already sporting an impressive bruise.
As Williams approached their seats, they made eye contact and Joe couldn't help but smile smugly at the state of the man, not one to normally take pleasure in the pain of others but this low life had dared to put his hands on his beloved, he deserved every pain he no doubt felt. He couldn't help but get in one more dig at the man even if it was a verbal jab for now.
He winced, shaking his head. “That looks nasty,” he said in mock sympathy, pointing to the man's jaw. “You should really put some ice on that,” he advised with false concern.
The man stopped and if looks could kill, Joe would be reviving from another death. The mercenary quickly pulled out a handgun and pointed it at Joe's head. The cabin went deathly quite and Copley shifted nervously in his seat.
“What are you gonna do...shot me?” Joe teased, “Shame to mess up all this lovely leather.”
Williams continued to stare at the son of a bitch that had murdered some of his mates, he knew he couldn't risk damaging the plane and even if he did fire, the monster wouldn't stay dead for long. He began to lower his weapon catching the look of self-righteousness on his antagonist's face. The prick actually thought he'd won but Williams knew exactly how to hurt this guy. He'd seen how protective he'd been of his 'boyfriend', he'd had to listen to his sickening declarations of love before the shit had hit the fan.
As he lowered his Glock he could see the triumphant look in the man's eyes, that was about to change. Williams shifted his grip on the weapon and held it out in a wide arc.
Instantly Joe was aware of what was about to happen and began to call out as he tried to reach for the weapon.
“Noooooo!” he shouted in vain as the seat-belt held him firmly in place.
Nicky who had remained quiet and neutral up to that point suddenly looked to his left to see what had caused Joe's outburst. A blur of black and then sparks of searing pain as the butt of a weapon crashed down with considerable force on his temple. The effect was instant and he feared he'd lose consciousness as blood began to trickle down his face.
“You Son Of A Bitch!” Joe roared at Williams, struggling to get out of his confinement but Keane was suddenly behind him holding him down firmly by the shoulders. “I'm going to kill you!” he shouted, more of a statement of fact than a threat.
Goading the trapped man, Williams raised his pistol once more.
“Don't!” Joe shouted, almost pleading, knowing the man was about to hurt his beloved once again because of him.
Williams placed his index finger over his lips and whispered a drawn out, “Shush.”
Then proceeded to pistol whip the back of Nicky's head this time.
Joe could only look on in horror as his husband's head hung limply from his shoulder's, completely unconscious. Blood now trickling from the two gashes caused by the vicious unprovoked beating. They would heal of course and he knew that Nicky would not remain unconscious for long thanks to their unnaturally fast healing abilities but that was not the point. He couldn't help but feel guilty that his mouth had gotten his beloved hurt once again.
“William's!” Keane bellowed in warning, “Sit down now!” he ordered. He didn't need any more incidents with these prisoners, they had already caused too much trouble.
William's nodded in acquiescence and stared at the broken man before him, 'Not so smug now are you?, you bastard!” he thought happily as he made his way to the back of the plane.
Joe completely ignored the man, his Nicolo was the only thing that mattered right now, the only thing worthy of his full attention.
“Nicolo destati, per favore amore mio, ascoltami, destati,” he pleaded, desperate to reach out and touch the man in his vulnerable state.
Minutes passed, though it felt like a life time for Joe, an eternity to wallow in his own guilt before his precious Nicky finally began to stir. A small groan and slight movement under the eye lids before those gorgeous sea green eyes finally opened and found focus.
“Nicolo?” Joe called anxiously, needing further reassurance from his love.
“Sono ancora qui,” Nicky replied, rolling his neck and coming to full awareness. His wounds had closed but he could still feel the blood on his face.
“Mi dispiace tanto” he whispered softly, one day he would learn to keep his mouth shut.
Nicky smiled at Joe, full of love and forgiveness, he adored Joe's fire and passion, it was a huge part of who he was and he hoped that burning flame would never be extingushed, even if it did get them in trouble from time to time.
“Never change,” he simply replied.
Two little words but Joe knew every subtle meaning behind them, there was no recrimination, no need for guilt, his beloved loved him for who he was, the good and the bad, just as Joe himself loved every facet of Nicky's personality. They would get through this together. Andy, Booker and Nile would come for them, would find them eventually, it was as inevitable as the setting sun. In the meantime they would just have to remain strong for each other.
The moment was shattered by Copley reaching over and offering Nicky a handkerchief. The Italian stretched out and took it just as the plane jolted into reverse and began to taxi out onto the private runway.
“Grazie,” he replied automatically but in reality he felt very little appreciation for the man.
“I'm sorry for that,” Copley apologised softly as he pointed to Nicky's head. In truth he had no right to apologise to or seek forgiveness from either man. His apology wasn't going to change their circumstances, wasn't going to facilitate their freedom. He knew what was most likely in store for the men, he had seen the lab set up Merrick had waiting for them in London. There would be a lot more blood taken and pain felt by both men in the near future but he had to convince himself that it was for the greater good, problem was it was getting harder and harder to persuade himself that he was doing the right thing despite the potential benefits to mankind.
Joe could feel the fury building up inside, how dare this traitor apologise to them, they wouldn't be in this predicament if it wasn't for Copley selling them out, but he'd learned his lesson and would keep his thoughts to himself for now. He didn't want his Nicolo to suffer again because of one of his outbursts.
As the engines revved to full power at the start of the runway he silently swore retribution against those who had hurt him and his family. Williams, Keane, Copley, the mysterious benefactor behind all of this, they would all get what's coming to them one way or another...he had time and he was a patient man...sometimes.
ooOoo
Notes: So back again with another little fic, really enjoyed writing 'Tempered Steel' so much that I couldn't stay away from these guys for too long. Thanks for all the support on that one folks and I hope you'll enjoy this little one shot just as much and please, please do let me know what you think, feedback is greatly appreciated...and craved :)
Translations:
Destati - wake up
Per favour, amore mio - please , my love
Ascotami - Listen to me
Sono ancora qui - I'm still here
Mi dispiace tanto - I'm so sorry