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Kimi stared up at the ceiling, unblinking, his hands tucked underneath his head, feet on the wall. Another crappy motel, another useless assignment. This one had been almost too easy, a rogue banker, really only wanted by the British. This guy had been nothing, no idea of the bigger world he lived in, galvanised only by his greed. This guy wasn’t even in a criminal organization. There had been no flair, nothing to really get him interested in the operation. Routine. They’d applauded him, telling him he’d done a sterling job, when he hadn’t. Three days tailing and a blow to the head. He’d just done what any competent field officer could do. He hadn’t been clever, or special. He’d just kept calm.

He was the best in the field. There was no doubting that. Ever since Schumacher had stepped down from service, he’d been the ones to take down the big guns. That worked for him. He didn’t get angry, he kept rational. And he’d been told many times, rational heads are hard to come by. He didn’t become personally attached – Rule 1. Always keep a personal detachment to the mission. He did that. He spotted things that no-one else could. Such as last year, Bangkok. No-one else even dreamt of thinking that the fraud happening there, and the thefts in Moscow were linked. He had. And he’d been correct, and he’d brought a major criminal organization to its knees with a few choice words and one shot.

And yet, here he was, back on routine operations, like he couldn’t even tie his own shoelaces. It was pathetic. He hadn’t even bothered to go into headquarters in the last few days, in the pure fear of another op. Another in, grab, run op.

It wasn’t fair.

He sighed, kicking at the wall, throwing one arm across his face. He just wished he could phone his mother, or his brother, and vent his frustration, but that had ‘Bad Idea’ written in neon across it, for two reasons. First, he was a world class spy. As Tony Stark once put it, ‘his secrets have secrets’. His family didn’t know what he did for a living. They were still under the impression he had been working in a bank in London. The more people know, the more in danger it puts them. And the second, very good reason why not to call his mother?

Oh, just the little fact that he’s been classified dead for six years.

Just a small thing, really. Almost insignificant.

He could hear his phone vibrating on the floor, and he let it ring. It was some kind of companionship in the silence, and if someone really needed to contact him that badly, they’d try again. The last person who’d tried to sell him something on the phone apparently ended up needed psychological treatment. And so far, MI5 had been more than adequate in redirecting those calls to unassuming telephone boxes. It was less bother.

The phone was still vibrating. Now it was just being irritating. With a curse, he leaned over, shifting onto his front, holding the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Raikkonen, stop being a twat and moping in your misery, you’re needed.” A voice snapped at him from the other end. Kimi winced, glaring at the phone.

“Why, so you can send me on another dead-job operation? If I’m worth that much to you, Briatore, why don’t you treat me as such?”

“I’m still your superior, and I can still have you fired.” Briatore replied, amusement creeping into his exasperated tone. “Look, I need my best men on this. This could be our only chance at catching Caballo.”

“That sonofabitch?” Kimi leant up, frowning. “I thought he’d disappeared off the radar.”

“Well, he’s popped back up again. He’s much more powerful, he controls much more than we’d ever imagined, or hoped. He runs crime rings in Spain, France, Austria, Hungary… all over Europe. Unfortunately…”

“Not Britain.” Kimi finished. “Great.”

“This needs to be kept completely under radar. Once you land in Madrid, Kimi Raikkonen is dead. Again.”

“I’m going to Madrid?”

“Yes. We’re keeping Button back here in London, controlling everything from here. Neutral territory. Now, Caballo’s main hunting grounds are Spain, and Hungary. You’re going to be working inside Spain, Weltmeister inside Hungary.”

“You’re sending Weltmeister?”

“He’s good. Sure, a little young, but ruthless. We don’t have anyone better.” Briatore rebuked him. “We need you to get inside, find out information. Get close.”

“How long do I have?”

“I don’t fucking care, Raikkonen. I just want Caballo’s head on a plate, still fresh, and I want to see the fear in his eyes. Just get. Me. Caballo.”

Kimi stiffened, finally sitting up. “Understood.”

“Good.” Briatore sounded wooden, forced even. “When you eventually decide to deign us with your presence, it could be an ideal opportunity to go through the details of this operation. Wouldn’t you agree, Raikkonen?”

“Agreed, Sir.”

“Good. See you in an hour.”

“Yes, Sir.” Kimi replied, replying only to the buzz of a dead line. A grin spread over his face. He wasn’t dead and buried yet.

~*~

It’s a shame that being a spy meant he had to fly everywhere. He wasn’t exactly fond of flying. He always found it ironic, his country being known for the Flying Finn, yet here he was, still afraid of being suspended in the air. It was the one fear he’d never quite managed to throw off. He could just about handle the private jets, luxury first class travel, but standard class? Shoved in between a rebellious teenager (he reckoned no older than 17, hard worker, trying to escape), and a lady who liked to rattle on about her dogs and suck on sweets too loud. No. This was not his cup of tea, as the English would say.

And an even bigger downside? Apparently, Madrid was rather hot. A Finn, rumour having it back at Headquarters that he was made solely from vodka and ice, in the bright Spanish sun? Sounded more like a recipe for disaster. But apparently Aki Kinnunen did like the burning heat. Aki Kinnunen was also a sports trainer, specializing in badminton. He’d really wanted to add shooting to that resume, but apparently firing at will in the local park was frowned upon in most countries. Which was a shame.

“Sweet, dear?” The lady nudged him in the ribs, offering the packet out to him. “They’re apple flavoured. Do wonders for your ears when the pop, if you suck on them.” She mock-whispered, winking. “You do look a bit peaky. Not a fan of airplanes?”

Kimi shook his head, taking the proffered sweet. If there was something in his mouth, it meant that he didn’t have to answer. All he had to do was sit there and look vaguely interested. How difficult could that be?

~*~

Update: Very.

The lady hadn’t stopped talking for thirty minutes. Almost non-stop, only pausing for breath. He’d started responding with adequate noises to the adventures of Timmy, Lola and Scruff, but had long since given up, nodding only when she stopped. She was almost a better form of torture than the best that MI5 or the CIA had to offer. She could just bore her victim to death, or make them wish for a way out, or zone them out enough that they just offered the intel instead. No pain, no fuss. Maybe he should offer the idea back to his superiors. Humane torture.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are about to start to make our final descent. If you could ensure that all seatbelts are secure. Thank you.” The Captains voice echoed in the plane, Stewardesses moving all of the extra cargo such as the food trolley out of the way, sitting down themselves. The lady next to him started fussing, passing her handbag to him. He just about stopped himself from rolling his eyes and shoving it back at her. Very close though. But losing his temper right at the start of the mission wouldn’t be good. Any scene caused could endanger him, he just had to keep inconspicuous.

Shouting at ladies who tell long stories about their dogs wasn’t keeping inconspicuous.

Unfortunately.

The plane hit down on the ground, barely bumping for once. His fingers were almost white, tightened hard around the arm-rests, locked in place. He let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding, bending over slightly, still not moving his hands.

He really needed to work on his dislike of airplanes.

~*~

His flat was located near the centre, a small off-road, busy enough with businesses littered down the road, bakeries and grocers and even a small pharmacy. He knew Madrid was never quiet, not even during the siesta period. Everyone was always moving. He was glad, in a way. He’d grown accustomed to London, with nothing ever being quiet. He’d hated the constant noise to start with, coming from Finland. Sure, he’d grown up in a town, close to the capital even, but even Espoo and Helsinki had never been anywhere close to as noisy as London, or Madrid.

He raised his hand to the blue door, the paint peeling slightly, a dead plant by the side of the steps. It wasn’t exactly a five star hotel, but you couldn’t ask for everything in life. This place looked a lot better than some of the places he’d stayed in – like that studio flat in Cheboksary – and it looked homely. Aside from the dead plant and the much needed attention to the outer cosmetics. Apparently his flatmate would be in (he didn’t know much, aside from him being Spanish and an artist. Also not secret service), but there seemed to be no movement from inside. He bent down, opening the letterbox, peering in.

“¿Hola?” He called. “Anyone in?”

Someone grunted, followed by a dull thud from upstairs. Kimi smirked, stepping back from the door, hands in his pockets. Same thing with all the artists he’d met. One of the world’s biggest euphemism’s for ‘Unemployed and unable to find a job’.

“You’re Aki?” An unshaven man opened the door, blinking blearily out into the sunshine. Kimi nodded, holding out his hand.

“And you’re…?”

“Fernando.” The man answered, gently taking Kimi’s hand. “Do you need help?”

Kimi shook his head, grabbing his suitcase. “This is all I have, it is not heavy.” He replied, gesturing inside. “After you?”

Fernando nodded, trailing up the stairs. “Don’t go downstairs, an old man lives there and he’ll more than likely kill you. Very private.” He explained. “He nearly punched me when I asked if he had any sugar.”

Kimi snorted, lugging his suitcase up the stairs. “I will keep that in mind.”

Fernando grinned, shutting their door behind Kimi. “Your room is the one on the left. Mine’s next door, bathroom next to me. Kitchen is on the other side of you.” Fernando pointed to the doors in turn. “I’m trying to move more of my things into my room, I’m not used to having someone around a lot of the time.”

“No flatmate before?”

“Well, yes, but he spent more time at his girlfriend’s.” Fernando explained with a shrug. “It was convenient.”

Kimi nodded, shoving his suitcase and backpack into his room. “Do you have any food in?” He asked bluntly. Fernando shook his head, apologetic.

“I’m running low on money, I have three sausages.” Fernando shrugged. “Hopefully I should sell something soon.”

“I’ll head out later.” Kimi replied. “Your art. Is it any good?”

Fernando huffed a little, but pointed over the opposite wall. “That’s one of mine. Well, copy.” He said. “It’s not a masterpiece, but I sold it for €5000.”

“Not bad.” Kimi commented. “Sorry, I do not know much about art.”

Fernando smiled. “What do you do then?”

“Sports instructor.” Kimi rattled off. “I teach all, but I specialize in badminton.”

Something in Fernando’s eye’s hardened momentarily, but it was gone as quickly as it came. “Badminton? That’s such a coincidence!” The Spaniard exclaimed. “I used to be on the team for school. Don’t practice now, but I miss it.” He laughed, scratching the back of his head. “Didn’t know that the Scandinavian’s were into badminton.”

“How did you…”

“The accent.” Fernando cut across him. “And the name. Aki isn’t common, and the British accent slips every so often.” He explained. “Still good at Spanish though.”

“My father made sure that my brother and I could speak as many languages as possible. ‘You’ll never know when you’ll need it,’ He always said. So French, Spanish, German, English… We learnt a lot.”

Fernando’s eyes widened, mouth falling open. “And I thought I was doing well with broken English!”

Kimi laughed, nodding. “It’s better than some.” He replied. “I’ll go and get food?” He said, peering at his watch. “Before all the shops shut.”

Fernando nodded, heading for his wallet. “I have €5,00?” He offered. Kimi shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it. I have enough.” He replied. “Is there a spare key I could have?”

Fernando jumped, pulling a key of his set. “This is my spare, and yours now, I suppose.” He grinned. “There’s a small shop ten minutes that way…” He pointed north out the window. “And in the other direction there is a supermarket fifteen minutes away. The shop is more than enough though.”

“Thanks.” Kimi replied, checking he had his wallet and his keys. “I’ll be back in around an hour then.” He called back up the stairs. He shut the front door behind him, exhaling deeply. Fresh air, time to think.

God, his roommate was chatty.

 ~*~

“Ice-man, reporting in.” He said into his phone, leaning against an alleyway wall. “Request to speak to London urgently.”

“Anyone specifically, Sir?”

“Who’s in charge of the Caballo mission? Briatore?”

“I’m afraid Mr Briatore is unavailable, Sir. He was needed urgently in Shanghai. He’s left Mr Button in charge of the mission, if that is any good?”

“Yeah, fine, get me Button.” Kimi growled, clenching his fist. How could Briatore just up and leave? Hunting Caballo had been his life mission almost, and suddenly he just didn’t care? And what was Ecclestone thinking? Leaving Button in charge of this delicate mission? He wasn’t experienced enough, he wasn’t a field agent, he’d never been a field agent. How the fuck could he know about taking the tough decisions that were needed?

“Ice-man? You there?” A cool voice sounded on the other side. “Anything to report?”

“Have you got anything new for me?” Kimi snapped. Button sighed on the other end of the phone.

“Hello, nice to talk to you to. And no, nothing new. Caballo isn’t exactly holding up a neon sign and saying ‘Here I am’. He is teasing us, and he’s making us dance. We’ll contact you when anything appears in Madrid. Weltmeister is on a tail in Budapest, Monaco and Melbourne are stationed in Austria. All we’re asking you to do to find out information about Brabham. He’s Caballo’s right hand man, and we know that he’s in Madrid now.” Button snapped.

“Sorry.” Kimi exhaled. “What happened to Briatore?”

There was silence on the other end of the phone, and when Button started talking again, it was lower. “Briatore was too close to the mission. He got to personal to it. Caballo knows that, he knows exactly who Briatore is.”

“How?”

“He left a message for us. A very clear message.” Button replied. “He left the body of a mole in one of his organizations inside MI5. Around the man’s neck, he’d left a message. ‘I know, and I’m coming for you. FB.’”

“How do you not know that that’s his initials?” Kimi tried desperately.

“No.” Button replied. “No, he knows Briatore. Briatore has been after this madman for ten years. We need Briatore alive, not another casualty made by Caballo. Shanghai is the best place for him.”

“But…”

“Ice-man, you have your duty. We’ll contact you if we have any more details.” Button said with finality, hanging up on Kimi. The Finn cursed, nearly punching a wall. He had no leads, nothing of help, nothing to find Brabham. He exhaled, straightening up, picking up the shopping, heading out of the alleyway.

He’d find Brabham, and he’d find Caballo. He owed Briatore that much at least.

~*~

“Gentlemen.” Kimi greeted. “I think you’re expecting me.”

The two guys in front of him glared, one taking a step forward. “Boss didn’t say so.” He challenged. “You have a name, pretty boy?”

“Tommi Aalto.” Kimi supplied, not breaking the other man’s gaze. “And I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Don’t you now?” One of the guys sneered. “Well, we don’t like being given orders by nobodies.”

“I’m not a nobody.” Kimi struck back. “I work for Kapustina. And I don’t think she’s going to like how you two treated her representative.”

The guys back off immediately, one gesturing to the other to go and let someone know. “Sorry Sir. There was no warning saying that you were coming, we didn’t know that Kapustina wanted to talk to us that badly…”

“Us?” Kimi repeated. “I think you’ve got it wrong. We have no intention of talking to you. We want to talk to Caballo. And since he’s not answering his calls, well, I’m taking the long way round.” He sneered.  The guy nodded, looking pale. Kimi smirked, turning around. It had been a long time since he’d had the opportunity to strike that fear of God into someone, and hell, he’d missed it.

“Uh, Sir?” The other man had appeared again, looking just as queasy as his companion. “Brabham said he’ll see you know.”

Kimi shot the man a glare, heading inside the club, shaking his hair. There were small rain rivulets rolling down his back, making his shirt cling to him. There was an escort waiting for him, with a expressionless face and dark hair slicked back.

“Mr Aalto.” He greeted, raising his hand, giving a cold smile. Kimi could tell in his eyes that this guy didn’t believe for one second that he’d given a real name, and he was sure that if he asked for his, he wouldn’t think twice about lying either. “Mr Caballo isn’t available at the minute, but Mr Brabham is on hand, if that is adequate.”

“That’ll be fine.” Kimi replied, shaking this man’s hand. “Anything else, Mr…”

“Telemann.” The man replied, letting go off Kimi’s hand, wiping it minutely on his trousers. “Now, if you would like to step this way.”

~*~

“Mr Aalto, I am so sorry for your unpleasant welcome. We were startled to find you here, Kapunstina hadn’t sent word she was sending anyone…”

“I came from suddenly from St Petersburg.” Kimi cut over Brabham, slouching into his chair, giving a tooth filled smile. “Kasputina thought it might be interesting if I just suddenly popped by.”

Brabham smiled, heading towards the drinks cabinet. “Thirsty?”

“Vodka. Please.”

Brabham filled their glasses – one vodka, one scotch – and handed Kimi his drink, Brabham sitting behind his desk. “So, Mr Aalto, what can we do for you?”

“An arrangement.” Kimi replied. “Kapustina needs what you can offer us. And word has it, you need a bit of help yourselves.”

“We do not…”

“I don’t threaten.” Kimi held up a hand. “But those rumours are something more, aren’t they, Mr Brabham?”

“I’m not going to divulge secrets, Mr Aalto.” Brabham sneered. “But, I would be willing to make an arrangement. Of course, I cannot procede without consulting with Mr Caballo, but I’m sure you would prefer to wait for that?”

“Oh, I think I can wait for Mr Caballo to make an appearance.” Kimi replied. “Will he be long?”

“Unfortunately, Mr Caballo isn’t in Madrid. He’s away on business currently. We’ll call you when he comes to an understanding.”

So close. So, so close.

He merely nodded, standing, offering his hand out. “We’ll be seeing more of each other, I expect, Mr Brabham.”

Brabham gave a stiff smile, and an even stiffer shake, leaning his head slightly towards the exit. Kimi took this as his cue to depart, finding ‘Telemann’ outside, waiting for him.

“Shall I escort you out, Mr Aalto?”

Kimi shook his head, shoving his hand into his pocket. “I think I’ll be quite alright, Mr Telemann. Or is it Vivaldi now?” He grinned at the man’s unsavoury glare, heading back out into the wet streets of Madrid.

~*~

“Did it work?” Button asked, voice grainy from the poor reception.

“They didn’t suspect me of working for British Intelligence, if that’s what you’re asking me.” Kimi replied, talking lowly. “And it’s always helpful to have an insider on your side.”

“Kapustina? She’s lucky that’s she still free, the mess she was making.”

“But if she wasn’t out on the field, then we would have no leverage whatsoever. If I told these guys that I was working for Hamilton, all it would take would be one phonecall, and the whole operation would be over. Having Kapustina still out there means we have a secure cover.”

“She can always be replaced.”

“By whom? Hamilton? That Venuzalean gangster, Maldonado? Caballo himself?” Kimi scorned. “No, making more and more alliances in the underworld makes us more and more vulnerable. Someone will blab, and MI5 will come crashing down around us.”

Button was silent, and Kimi could almost see him making idiotic faces at the phone. “Look, Button. I’m in. Brabham is going to see me again in a few days, once he’s talked to Caballo for us. We take this slow, and nothing can go wrong.”

“Fine.” Button bit out. “I’ll pass on the information to Weltmeister, just continue as normal.”

Kimi rolled his eyes, hanging up on the Englishman, shoving his phone back into his pocket. The rain was still coming down hard, water soaking his hair and his jacket, running lightly down his face, little drops falling off the end of his nose. Seriously, since when did it ever rain in Spain, and yet he’d hardly been here four days, and it had rained three of them.

The weather was out to catch him, it seemed.

~*~

“Aki, don’t you have work?” Fernando rapped on his door, calling through. “Aki!!”

Kimi groaned, throwing the duvet off himself, chucking the pillow at the door. “Go away.”

“Aki! It is nearly 11!”

“So?”

There was silence, then Fernando barged into his room, grabbing Kimi by the ankle and dragging him off his bed. “You need breakfast, and you need to go to work.”

“Who says I’m working today?” Kimi groaned. “Let go of me.”

“No. You left your diary open, it said work, 11.15 to 18.00. So you need to move.”

“You checked my stuff.” Kimi was suddenly fully awake, jumping up to stand beside Fernando, backing him against the wall. “Did you go into my stuff?”

“No!” Fernando exclaimed, bringing his hands up. “Your diary was on the table, I just looked it over!”

Kimi stared at Fernando for what seemed like an age, loosening his grip on the Spaniard. “Okay.” He finally replied, nodding sharply.

“What’s wrong with your stuff then?” Fernando asked, massaging his shoulder. Kimi gave him a cold look, turning towards where his clothes lay on a pile. “Just curious.”

“Don’t be then.” Kimi snapped. “And get out of my room.”

“Sorry.” Fernando blushed slightly, backing away quickly. “I’ll go…”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

~*~

Pounding round the streets of Madrid, he could think clearly. With what had been happening, not only in Madrid, but he could start to think clearly again. Being trapped inside a flat, or wandering around downtown Madrid with only a vague idea where to start, he hated it. He loved the thrill of the chase, guns out blazing. That was him. Not the pretty talk that came with it.

Someone barged into him, and he stumbled, falling to the floor, only basic instinict helping him to get back up again without a scratch on him. He crouched, hand by his concealed gun, snarling at the other person.

“Aki! I’m so sorry!” Fernando exclaimed, reaching out his hand to help his flatmate up. “I had not realized where I was going!”

“I gathered that.” Kimi muttered dryly, taking the proffered hand. “I thought you were supposed to be finding a job? Or painting?”

“Ran out of inspiration.” Fernando replied. “And I have a job! Fantastic artist!”

“Hmm.” Kimi replied, arching an eyebrow. “I’ll agree when I see that masterpiece of yours.”

Fernando laughed, scratching at his neck. “Um, there is a good tapas bar near here. Cheap too. Want to try it?”

Kimi started, eyes flickering between the ground and Fernando. “Um, yeah. Okay.”

Fernando grinned, his smile lighting his face up, grabbing Kimi by the arm and dragging him down the street. “I know the owner, and everyone says that they do the best patas bravas in Madrid! You can never go back once you have tasted Jaime’s patas bravas!”

“Er… okay?”

Fernando trailed to a stop, standing outside a restaurant. He opened the door, opening his arms wide, greeting the inhabitants of the small restaurant. “Jaime!! Pedro!!”

“Fernando!” An older man behind the bar cried back, a younger man sticking his head out a door in the back. “We haven’t seen you in a while!”

“Well, some people have to live!” Fernando replied, leaning on the bar. “Haven’t sold anything in a while, but just received a commission.”

“That’s great!” The young man replied from the back room. “You want the usual?”

“Double, thanks Jaime.” Fernando replied, gesturing to Kimi to sit. “Pedro is an old friend of the family, Jaime I met at school.” He explained. “They are some of my oldest friends. Many people don’t stick around, where they have always been here.”

It didn’t surprise Kimi that not many people kept Fernando around for long, once he’d outgrown any usefulness. Not that he said so, he still had to share a flat with this guy.

“So, you just got a commission?”

“Yeah. Not bad either. €1000 up front, and if I can finish it in four weeks, €9000 extra.”

Kimi whistled lowly, leaning back in his chair. “Not bad. So you’re paying today then?”

Fernando rolled his eyes. “We do need other food, you know? I’ll pay half.” He reasoned. Kimi grinned, shaking his head.

“Save me from stingy flatmates!” He teased. “Fine, I think I could stretch that far.”

Jaime flounced over just then, places three plates of food on the table, giving Fernando a quick kiss on the cheek. “Have fun, boys!”

Fernando flushed, turning his attention to his lunch. Kimi gave him a quizzical look, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly. Fernando glanced upwards, and seeing the Finn’s gaze on him, turned an even brighter red.

“So, does everyone in Spain kiss each other on the cheek?”

Fernando shook his head sharply, not looking up.

“So, you’re interested in guys?”

Fernando refused to answer this one, staring solidly down. Kimi sighed, setting down his fork. “I don’t care, you know.”

“No?”

“I don’t care whether you screw guys or girls. Just as long as you don’t wake me up in the middle of the night.”

Fernando gave a shy smile. “What about you then?”

“I don’t care as long as it’s a person.” Kimi replied, shrugging his shoulders. “I never believed in putting labels on things.”

“So, uhh…”

“These are nice.”

“What?”

“The patas bravas. They’re nice.” Kimi replied. Fernando chuckled, stealing a couple from Kimi’s plate, ignoring his protest.

“Told you.”

~*~

When he said that he didn’t care about what Fernando was doing as long as it didn’t wake him up in the middle of the night?

Yeah, well, he lied. He loved being woken up in the middle of the night with Fernando.

Fernando moaned underneath him, trailing his hands down from his hair, clawing onto his back, leaving marks across his back. Kimi nipped at Fernando’s ear, laughing as Fernando arched upwards.

“D’you like that?” Kimi asked, trailing kisses down Fernando’s throat, biting down softly at the hollow of the Spaniards neck. “Huh?”

“A… Aki…” Fernando breathed, wrapping his legs around Kimi’s waist. “No se detienen.”

Kimi braced himself atop of the Spaniard, pushing in slowly, watching the emotions play out on Fernando’s face. He set up a steady pace, allowing Fernando to catch up with him, putting as little space between the two of them as possible, chests touching.

Fernando screamed, clinging onto the Finn as he came, almost pulling some of Kimi’s hair out at the same time. Kimi shortly followed, shuddering and collapsing on top of Fernando, their legs tangled under the sheets. Fernando grinned up at him, stroking down Kimi’s face.

“You’re not half bad.”

If he hadn’t been so exhausted, he might have whacked him. As it was, he gave a huff of laughter, rolling off the Spaniard slightly, drifting right off to sleep.

~*~

“Jesus, Ice-man, pick up!!” Button screamed at the phone, grabbing onto the table. “What the hell are you doing? Screwing your flatmate?”

“Actually, I was.” Kimi’s deadpan voice came down the phone. “What do you want?”

“Budapest has gone down. You need to get over there, Se- Weltmeister has gone into hiding. Monaco and Melbourne are en-route, you’re needed. Just…” Button’s voice broke slightly, halting. “Just get there.”

Kimi nodded sharply. “I want a jet waiting at Madrid airport.”

“One is already on route.” Button immediately replied. “Kimi…”

“Gotcha.” Kimi replied, hanging up and grabbing his case of weapons, running out down the stairs and out the door, not even giving a second thought to the man he was leaving upstairs in his bed.

~*~

The hideout was a ruin. There were bullet holes in the door, window panes missing. If Weltmeister had been inside this house, it’d be a miracle he’d still be alive. His radio had been turned off, and there had been radio silence from Monaco and Melbourne. He couldn’t help but take it as bad news. They’d been instructed as little communication as possible, no way to trace it back, but nothing? It never bode well.

“Kimi?!” Jenson yelled into his ear. “What does it look like?”

“It looks a mess. I’m not going to lie, but if Weltmeister was in there, he’s dead.”

Button choked, and he heard someone rush up, voices screaming in the background.

“Kimi, Melbourne just came online. He’s two streets away from you, wearing a red cap. Find him, he might have intel.” Someone calmly told him. Kimi took off, slaloming through the crowds, scanning frantically.

“He’s not here!”

“He must be.” The voice replied. “Fucking look harder, I don’t know.”

“I’m telling you, he’s not.”

“Ice-man?” An Australian accent cut in, and Kimi span around, coming face to face with a young man in a red cap. “Melbourne. We know where Weltmeister is.”

~*~

This safehouse was almost as bad as the first one. True, it wasn’t bullet-ridden, but if Weltmeister was laid up here injured, then he had no hope in hell. The entire place was filthy, it looked disused, broken down, falling to pieces. It wouldn’t be where he’d choose to die.

Melbourne lead him upstairs, and two men were in the small room, one laid out on a bed, another squatting beside him. The guy laid up saw them enter, a grin spreading across his face.

“Ice-man, I guess?” He asked, coughing, blood trickling from the side of his mouth. “Jenson said you’d get here eventually. I’m Seb. You might as well know, someone should. I’m not going to last much longer anyway.”

“Jenson?”

“Button.”

Kimi frowned, but moved slightly closer. “Did you get him? Caballo?”

Seb shook his head, hissing in pain. He looked down, drawing his hand away from his stomach, blood sticking to his hand and jacket, spreading across his shirt. “I need you to take a message. To Jenson. And for you.”

“What?”

“Caballo is a Moriarty.” Seb looked him directly in the eye, his breathing becoming laboured. “Don’t trust anyone.”

“What…”

Seb shook his head, gulping for breath now. He shook violently, then became very still, his eyes losing their sharp gaze, staring up at the peeling ceiling, unable to see anymore. Kimi stood very still, then gave a howl of rage, turning around and punching a wall. The other two just stood there, not sure what to do. It wasn’t fair. These three…they weren’t even men. They were boys. They had been pushed into an underground war, probably not sure about what was even going on, and now one had paid for it.

“You two need to get back to London.” He snarled. Monaco started towards him, but Kimi trained his gun on him. “I mean it. This is too dangerous, we need less people. I’ll work alone.”

“You need us.”

“I don’t need bodies.” Kimi spat, turning his communication back on. “Button? Anyone?”

“Kimi.” Button – Jenson – came back on. “Is Seb…”

“He’s dead.” Kimi replied shortly. He heard Jenson give a small sob, and then his ear was filled with the calming voice he’d heard before.

“Kimi, this is Horner. Did Seb say anything?”

“Yeah. He said ‘Caballo is Moriarty. Don’t trust anyone.’”

“Caballo…”

“Don’t ask me. But I’m going to take his advice. Sorry.” Kimi apologized, turning off his comms. “Also, guys?”

Monaco and Melbourne turned around, glancing at each other.

“Sorry.” He turned his gun on their feet, shooting twice, one bullet for each man. They both screamed in pain, Monaco yelling obscenities in French, but he didn’t care. If Seb had learnt something about Caballo that meant that he couldn’t trust even the organization he worked for, it must have been enough for him to sacrifice his life. And he wasn’t going to waste this opportunity.

~*~

“Fernando?” Kimi asked, turning his face downwards, shades and hat in place. He couldn’t go back to Madrid, or at least not back to his flat. MI5 weren’t exactly going to welcome him back with open arms. According to them, he had turned traitor. He had turned on colleagues, had fired upon other agents. He was wanted. He wasn’t giving up in his hunt for Caballo, he just had to go underground now. He’d left Budapest, using buses and lifts as a hitchhiker to make it to Graz. Caballo had a large network working between Austria and Hungary, and if he couldn’t start in Spain, and couldn’t stay in Budapest, it seemed like the best place to move to.

“Hufph?” The Spaniard grunted down the line. “Who is?”

“Fernando, it’s Aki. I need you to do me a favour.”

“Aki?” Fernando repeated. “What the hell?”

“Look, I’m sorry I disappeared. I couldn’t -”

“Tell me? Fine, I don’t care.” He groaned. “You’ll have me thinking your some sort of spy soon. But do you know what time it is?”

“I know it’s early. I’m sorry, but I really need your help.”

Fernando sighed, and Kimi could hear the smaller man sit down heavily on the sofa. “What do you want.”

“There is some pieces of paper in my backpack under my bed. I need you to send them to me.”

“Wait, where are you.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just send them to this address: 140 Slazestrabe, Salzburg, Austria. Got that?”

Fernando hummed, sounding like he was biting his lip. “You in Austria?”

“Fernando.”

“Yeah?”

“Just don’t read it. Don’t try and contact me, just pretend that I don’t exist. Got it?”

“Fine… Aki, what the hell is going on?” Fernando asked. Kimi sighed, hanging up on his flatmate. He didn’t want to bring the Spaniard into it, but he had no choice. He needed that document, and he couldn’t go and collect it himself. But once he had that document, it was time to get Caballo.

And this time he wasn’t going to fail.

~*~

 He could see that guy from before, Vivaldi or whatever name he’d given. They’d guessed that this place might be part of Caballo’s empire, but they weren’t certain. Now with this guy showing up, it was just the confirmation he needed. He wasn’t important enough for Caballo to send on work, or at least work where money could be depending on.

Vivaldi – he really needed to stop calling him that – disappeared down into a club, motioning to someone to follow him. Kimi narrowed his eyes, glancing around. He couldn’t see anyone else that he knew was associated with Caballo, but he needed to keep a trail on this guy. He holstered his gun, walking towards the guys on the door. One of the guys sneered at him, the other moving directly into his path.

“I’m going to give you some advice. Get out of here.” The one in front of him said, crossing his arms. Kimi raised his hands, giving them an easy smile.

“Relax. I’m here on behalf of Caballo.”

They started, the guy in front of him moving back a pace. So they weren’t completely dumb then. They knew Caballo, and were scared of anyone working for him.

“There’s already someone else here for him.” The other one challenged. “Why would he send two?”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Kimi replied, his eyes and voice steely. “I think that would make for a very interesting conversation.”

The bodyguard visibly deflated this time, and moved out of his way, panic in his eyes. “Sorry sir.”

Kimi didn’t bother waiting, Vivaldi or Mozart or fucking Bach, whatever he was this time, he was getting away. This was his only trail, he couldn’t let this guy out of his sight. He needed him.

He turned a corner, groaning as he hit a dead end. He tried to swivel, but someone was standing behind him, knife pointed at his back.

“Well well. We need to stop meeting like this.” Vivaldi’s tone was dripping in sarcasm; he could almost see the smirk on the guys face. “Great way of getting in, scaring them enough. Works everytime.”

“I can bring your organization falling to its knees.”

“But you can’t, can you?” Vivaldi contradicted. “You’re desperate. You’ve been tailing me, one of your agents is dead, and you abandoned your job and your country. You have nothing.”

“If you put it like that.” Kimi shrugged. “But I can help.”

“And why would I help a turncoat like you?”

“I never said you.” Kimi sneered, turning around. The knife scratched at his waist, but he didn’t care. “I have intel. Don’t you think Caballo would want me alive?”

“No.”

“So you’re going to shoot me, here in some crappy bar in Salzburg, without your boss’s permission? I’m sure he’ll love that.”

He could see a vein jump in Vivaldi’s head, his jaw tense. “Fine.” He bit out. “Hands.”

Kimi complied; it was safer than risking his neck and alerting the entire organization that he was out there and after them.

“You,” Vivaldi smirked, “Are in for a lot of trouble.”

~*~

“Well, well, well…” Brabham grinned, eyes devious. “An MI5 agent, delivered right on my doorstep.”

“What do we do with him?” Vivaldi asked, giving Kimi a prod in the back. “Get rid of him?”

“Oh no.” Brabham sneered. “Caballo will want him alive.”

“Seriously? This guy?” Vivaldi snorted. “He’s useless. Just another agent that’s too trigger happy.”

“But that’s not your decision to make, is it?” Brabham turned a disarming smile on Vivaldi, who wilted under it, muttering and heading towards the door. As the door swung shut after him, Brabham turned back to Kimi, tutting.

“It’s not like we weren’t prepared for this from the start. I mean, we knew who you were since you walked in through that door.” Brabham gave a low chuckle of laughter, the kind that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “You’ve done well, Raikkonen. I’ll give you that. You’re definitely the one who’s gotten the closest. Mainly because Caballo wanted you to.” He shrugged, sitting on the desk. “Look at what you’ve done. All the missions you’ve done, declaring yourself dead. Where has it gotten you? You’re stuck, abandoned by MI5. You turned on your fellow agents – yes, we know about that as well – and going solo really hasn’t worked out too well for you, has it?”

Kimi just glared at the man, shifting ever so slightly in his seat. For a clever organization – and there weren’t many people who could one up him – they had been rather dim in leaving him in a chair, not even tying him to anything.

“So, I assume Caballo will be on his way over shortly, he’s so excited about meeting you. He’s been so disappointed that you’ve always popped up wherever he isn’t.”

“Really?” Kimi asked, giving Brabham a grin. “Well, give him my compliments.” He reached into the inside of Brabham’s jacket, pulling out his gun and shooting the man dead in the chest. He didn’t stay and watch Brabham slump down the desk, surprise in his eyes, a grin still etched onto his face. Vivaldi burst in, and Kimi shot, two holes appearing in Vivaldi’s head, the smallest amount of blood already trickling out. Kimi sniffed, placing the gun into the back of his jeans, making his way out like nothing had happened. There was hardly anyone around, no-one near enough to hear anything anyway, so he could just walk out.

And all he could think was that he’d put Fernando in danger.

~*~

He ran through the streets of Madrid, blood pounding in his ears, giving no heed to anyone around him. He’d put Fernando in danger. Fernando was in danger. He was innocent, just trying to get by, he had no reason whatsoever to get dragged into the mess that he found himself in.

He made it to his street, nearly running straight into the door, not bothering with keys and just kicking it down instead. The old man from downstairs starting shouting, but he didn’t care. He dashed upstairs, bursting into the flat. Fernando stood, in the middle of the living area, a cold smile on his face, gun trained on him.

He was missing something.

“Hello, Kimi.” Fernando said, motioning to him to shut the door. Kimi did as he was asked, raising his hands and placing them behind his head for good measure. “To business.”

“What are you doing?”

“You seriously didn’t guess?” Fernando looked disappointed. “Then again, I played my part very well.”

“Are you from MI5?” Kimi asked, narrowing his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be taking me in?”

Fernando threw his head back in laughter, his gun lowering towards the floor. “Oh dear me, that’s one of the best ones I’ve heard.” He chuckled. “No no, Kimi. I’m Caballo.”

Kimi’s hands went to his gun immediately, pointing it at Fernando’s chest. “You’re Caballo?”

Fernando’s smile grew wider, full of teeth. “Oh yes. I play quite the part, an unsuspecting artist struggling to meet ends meet.”

“Why didn’t you just shoot me?” Kimi shrugged. “You had all that time.”

“And pass up the opportunity?” Fernando laughed. “No, I think not. I think this has been quite fun, don’t you agree?”

“Well…”

“Don’t you remember our night together, Kimi?” Fernando’s voice dropped, and he moved closer, looking up at Kimi, gun all but forgotten in either of their hands. “Or all that time we spent together? Because that was real.”

“How do I know that?” Kimi sneered. “You lied to me this entire time, how do I know that you’re telling the truth?”

“You don’t.” Fernando shrugged. “But if you’d known, you’d have turned me in. Or shot me.”

“Or tried.” Kimi replied. Fernando nodded.

“Tried at the very least. To be honest, I was disappointed you never figured it out, but then again, I haven’t really trusted MI5’s training in a long time.”

“Caballo…”

“Fernando.”

“Caballo.” Kimi repeated. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to arrest you.”

“No.” Fernando shook his head. “Kimi, come with me.”

“What?” Kimi shook his head. “You’re insane.”

“I’m assuming you disposed of Brabham?” Fernando asked, pacing away and turning on his heel. Kimi nodded.

“Vivaldi too. But with a name like that he deserved it.”

“I did try to persuade him out of it.” Fernando sighed heavily. “But I mean it. Come with me. I could give you a life worth so much more than you have now. What can MI5 offer you, really? Nothing that I can. You’d be safe. No-one gets to me, you got the closest, and I let you that close.”

“I’m a good agent.” Kimi said, trying to talk it through, trying to sort out the muddle in his head. “I’m respected.”

“And what happens to respected agents once they’re past their best?” Fernando asked. “Really?”

Kimi bit his lip. What Caballo – Fernando – was offering, it was tempting. For all the wrong reasons, for all the right reasons. Because he had given MI5 his soul, yet it was true, he wouldn’t be valued in a few years, not at all. He’d just be disposed off somewhere quiet, somewhere he wouldn’t make a fuss.

Fernando was suddenly back in his personal space again, looking up at him with full, dark brown eyes.

“Please.”

~*~

“Anything interesting happened?” Button asked, picking up a coffee and heading towards his desk. His assistant shook her head, shrugging apologetically.

“And nothing on Ice-man either, sir.”

Button sighed, sitting down, placing his coffee on the table. It’d been four months since Kimi had disappeared, and the theories were running wild. Some said he was laid up injured, others said he was dead. Some of the more exotic ones ranged from escaping to a paradise island, whilst one person had decided that he had tried to start a colony on Mars.

Whichever one it was, there had been consistent radio silence from him.

A lot had changed since that day in Budapest. He himself had only been back a few weeks, given more than enough time to grieve his boyfriend. In reality, he should have expected it, knowing what line of work they were in, but hearing that Seb was dead had been too much. But he’d been gone, nothing from Kimi, Briatore dead… it had been a tough time. They were only just starting to pick themselves back up again, they couldn’t afford another mission like that one.

“Sir, phone call.” His assistant told him, an anxious expression on her face. He frowned, picking up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Button. How pleasant to hear your cool tones again.”

“Kimi?!” Button cried, turning the speakerphone on, telling his assistant to get Ecclestone. “Kimi, where are you.”

“Sorry, but I can’t say?”

“What do you mean you can’t say? Don’t you know where you are?”

“Oh, I know all right.” Kimi chuckled. “But unfortunately I don’t want you meddling.”

“Kimi, we need to pick you up, debrief you, you’ve been missing for four months, for god’s sake, just let us pull you out and we’ll sort out everything after.”

“See, you can’t.” Kimi replied. “I’m not returning to MI5.”

“You what?!” Button yelled, grabbing onto his hair, cursing loudly. “Kimi, do you even hear yourself?”

“Sure I do. This is my resignation letter.”

“Kimi…” Button moaned.

“Sorry. But I was offered a deal too good to refuse.”

“And what the fuck was it?!”

“Become second-in-command of a major crime organization, pretty much unlimited money, and lots of fantastic sex.”

“I… what… Kimi did you get off with Caballo?!” Jenson screamed. “No, not even you are that stupid…”

“Apparently I am.” Kimi replied smugly. “But the sex really is fantastic.”

“You just chucked it all in? For what?”

“Told you.” Kimi was laughing on the other side of the line, and another man’s voice could be heard in the background.

“Is that him?”

“Sorry, Button. I am. And about Sebastian.”

“Don’t you dare…”

“Ice-man!” Ecclestone burst into the room. “What the hell happened to you you?”

“Remember Weltmeister’s warning, that Caballo was Moriarty?” Kimi asked. Ecclestone nodded.

“Sure, what about it?”

“Well, if he’s Moriarty, I’m Moran.” And with another bout of laughter, he hung up, leaving the room stunned into silence.

“Well, we’re fucked.”

~*~