MI-5/Spooks Fan Fiction, Part 3
Frau Hunter Ash
Rating: US – R; Australian – MA; English – 15.
# # #
Danny grinned, when they entered the observation cottage, to find Zoe watching the monitors. “How are they doing?”
“Haven’t made it to the bedroom yet but it’s getting 15 rated,” Zoe smiled. “A lot of back and forth questioning if the other is sure about the plan, about each other, asking forgiveness, you know.”
Tom nodded and turned up the volume as Peter and Andrea sat on the sofa, hands and lips rediscovering each other.
“Peter, I love you. I’ll marry you if that’s what it takes,” Andrea said urgently, nipping at his neck as her hands struggled with his pullover military sweater.
“You’re an atheist,” Peter muttered, running his fingers over her face gently.
“I don’t care, I want to be legally held to you,” she grinned.
“You’re an anarchist and don’t believe in government rituals,” he smirked and then moaned as she ripped his button down shirt open, his hands moving under her shirt to feel her soft skin once again.
“Oh God, Peter!” Andrea exclaimed, looking at his scarred stomach.
“I’m alright, luv,” Peter said softly, stroking her hair. “Honest, almost healed.”
“Are you… can we?” she stammered.
“I’m more than up for it, girl,” Peter grinned impishly.
“Marry me, damnit!”
“Yes,” Peter agreed, standing up, his breathing increased drastically. “Bedroom, luv, now.”
“God, yes,” Andrea muttered, moving into his arms again.
Tom reached over Zoe’s shoulder and shut off the visual monitors in the bedroom off, leaving the volume on low.
“Shall we fix dinner then? I doubt they’re going to eat and discuss anything soon,” he suggested.
“Your Oxford educated code breaker hero is… very randy,” Zoe teased.
Tom shrugged and tried to ignore the looks from Zoe and Danny. “What?”
“Wondering how much he taught you about field work,” Danny grinned.
“How to cook, come on,” Tom growled.
# # #
Tom wasn’t surprised the next morning to find Peter and Andrea still sleepy but looking very content. The seasoned agent found it amusing that the couple couldn’t seem to stand being apart, even physically for more than a few moments. Andrea would walk up behind Peter and hug him while he made breakfast for the three of them, he would reach across the table for her hand while they talked with Tom over tea, and he hovered close as she did the dishes.
If Tom had doubted Peter’s motivation in his previous actions, he had no doubt watching his mentor act like a love-sick teenager around the younger woman. Surprisingly, he saw the same devotion and desire in her eyes when she glanced at Peter.
“Right then,” Peter smiled, leaning back in his chair. “What’s the game and how do we pull it off? I want the second half of my life spent in retirement with Andie and never see another MI-6 agent in my life.”
“MI-5 will keep the deal?” Andrea asked anxiously. “We do this and we’re out? Just me and Peter somewhere, right? We don’t mix with violence and they’ll leave us alone?”
“Yes, you two stay away from the terrorists and you’re free and clear after a year,” Tom nodded firmly. “No more trying to off the President of the United States.”
Peter smirked and shrugged. “Didn’t do it, did I?”
Then the older agent looked thoughtful. “How do we get back in? I mean, they’ll take us back if they believe we’ve been in jail for the year and didn’t break but what can we offer them now? Before it was me, the fact I was a traitor with inside information. They won’t believe I know anything now. We’ll be shifted away from Istvan until whatever they’re planning is done.”
“Well, we convince them that I’m following in your footsteps,” Tom said slowly. “You’re my mentor and I got you out of prison and I’ve been talking with you for the year. I’m ready to listen to the party-line.”
Peter nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “Might work, they’d believe you have inside information and it’s enough of the truth to ring true overall.”
“So how do we do this? I check my old contacts and pull all three of us in at once?” Andrea asked, leaning her head against Peter’s shoulder.
“No, I’ve an assignment in a fortnight,” Tom shook his head. “Take the week, get him stronger. Hook up with Istvan next week and after that you can pull me in. Tell them you’re slowly working on me as you play Double Agent for the anarchs.”
“That should work,” Peter nodded. “I’d like the week here. Give me some time to build up some computer stuff that will interest Istavan, may pull us closer faster. What the devil are you working on, by the by?”
“Something for Home security, won’t take long. The actual event is only a day,” Tom shrugged.
Peter nodded, rubbing his cheek along Andrea’s hair. “Just don’t get killed,” he muttered. “I’m rather fond of you, Tommy.”
Tom shook his head with a smile. “Only you ever called me Tommy, you jerk.”
Peter grinned his impish grin and wrapped an arm around Andrea, pulling her into his lap. “A week you say?”
Tom laughed and stood up. “Should be enough time to get you two settled down a bit and focused on the mission.”
Andrea kissed Peter’s neck and glanced up at Tom. “Don’t bet on it,” she grinned. “Going to keep this up for the rest of our lives.”
“Good grief!” Danny muttered as they watched the monitors. “These two are like rabbits!”
Zoe laughed and nodded, handing him a cup of tea. “Can you imagine a week of this with those two?”
“Bloody hell,” Danny growled as they watched Tom leave the cottage and Peter slowly move Andrea around on his lap, moving her shirt up to begin kissing her breasts as she arched and moan, running her fingers through his unruly hair.
Zoe grinned and turned the monitor screen off as Andrea’s moans grew louder.
# # #
Zoe, Danny and Tom had a fairly easy three days watching Peter and Andrea. The disgraced agent worked occasionally on the computer, putting together a hacking program that might tempt Istvan Vogel. Peter pointed out to Tom hidden programming within the programming that would allow MI-5 to tap into Vogel’s computer, sending information both ways, feeding Vogel false information and downloading any info they wished to access, even the protected and password protected files. Tom shook his head with a smile, having a computer genius on their side was a definite advantage, he commented.
The rest of the time the couple spent roaming the small island, having a drink in the pub and being with each other. Sometimes Peter would play his guitar while Andrea listened, curled up at his feet next to the fire, other times they would just spend a day in bed, making slow and comfortable love or snuggling.
On the sixth day, Danny and Zoe left the island, moving to a small apartment in a town where Istvan had been spotted, setting up surveillance on an apartment rented for Peter and Andrea and a local pub where Istvan was known to frequent.
Tom knocked on the cottage door and wasn’t surprised when Andrea opened the door dressed in a heavy military jacket. He saw two simple suitcases waiting just inside.
“He’s shutting down the computer, just finished transferring all the info onto disks for you,” she smiled, inviting the MI-5 agent in.
“Good, we’ll catch the ferry, pick up the car and head into Berneray,” Tom nodded.
Peter stepped out of the bedroom with a rucksack and a trade-mark grin. “Back to the game then?”
“Let’s do it,” Tom smiled, holding the door open and reaching for Andrea’s suitcase.
The ferry ride across the reach was uneventful, Peter standing behind Andrea with his arms around her and Tom watching the few fishermen traveling to the mainland for whatever supplies they couldn’t find on the island.
Once on the mainland, Peter and Andrea waited for Tom to lead the way through the small village towards the garage. He had told them he had an auto waiting for them and followed his lead.
Tom unlocked the rented space and stepped through the small metal door, looking for the lightswitch when the feel of cold metal and the sound of a cocking pistol hammer caused him to freeze in place.
The agent held very still even when the lights flashed on in the small space, revealing several men standing near him and one was very close, pistol to Tom’s head, just behind his ear. Tom quickly noted that several of the other men also had pistols in their hands and knew he couldn’t take the one down without being shot or overpowered by the others. He just hoped Peter and Andrea saw something was wrong and made a dash for it.
“Don’t move, spy,” the one with the pistol growled.
Tom kept quiet and kept his hands in sight as one of the men moved forward and frisked him. “He’s unarmed, boss!” he called out and another man stepped out of the office area. Tom recognized him as Istvan Vogel and felt his heart start racing.
“Andrea! Peter!” Istvan suddenly smiled.
The man who had frisked Tom turned him around and brought his hands behind his back and Tom felt handcuffs binding his hands together. He watched as Peter and Andrea entered the garage and dropped their suitcases.
Tom resisted any expression or saying anything as Vogel approached Tom’s mentor and girlfriend and held his arms open. Both Peter and Andrea hugged him affectionately.
“Welcome home, mein friends!” Vogel said enthusiastically. “It’s been too long! I couldn’t believe it, that you were both still alive and able to get out!”
“Neither could we,” Andrea said with a smile, taking Peter’s hand. “Glad you got Peter’s codes.”
Tom noticed Peter refusing to meet his accusing eyes as Vogel turned and took in Tom and smirked.
“And you bring us another gifting,” Istvan said softly as he approached Tom. “The agent with the key to causing mass chaos in the Empire. The agent involved in guarding the Lions, ja?”
Tom managed not to reflect any surprise but inwardly he wished his hands were free so he could strangle his mentor. Peter nodded, as if sensing Tom’s thoughts and walked over to Tom.
“Computers can work both ways, Tom,” he said softly. “You hacked into mine to keep an eye on me and I hacked into yours. The ‘young lions’ are the Royal brats, yes? You’re in charge of seeing to part of their safety while here in Berneray, their father’s favorite fishing vacation spot. They plan on a boat outing next week and you’re the one to see they get back in safely with all these anarchists running about.”
Tom still refused to speak and the one holding the pistol hit the agent behind the ear with it, sending Tom to his knees. He saw Peter wince but not move to help either.
“Tom, tell them what they need,” Peter urged, squatting in front of the MI-5 agent. “I’ve Istvan’s word you’ll be released unharmed after we’ve gone and disappeared. Please, don’t make this harder than it has to be. I love you but this is going to happen, you can prevent a lot of deaths.”
“How, by letting you kill only the ones you select?” Tom demanded, unable to hold still any longer. “Let you kill only the Princes and their guards? That’s helping?”
“Aye, you know it is,” Peter frowned. “You knew I tried to bring down the President by avoiding massive loss of life. Help me prevent deaths by focusing only on the military targets.”
“The Princes aren’t military!” Tom snapped and Peter quickly held up his hand, preventing the one anarchist from hitting the MI-5 agent again. “They’re young and didn’t choose who were their parents!”
“Yes, just like the rest of us didn’t choose to be born on the wrong side of that rich royal line either,” Peter snapped. “I dragged myself up because of the strange twist of my mind. Boy genius, sent to Oxford, we’ll overlook his unfortunate fate of being born to a poor career soldier without two pence to rub together.”
“So what?” Tom asked bitterly. “You’ll destroy the Empire because you were born poor and some weren’t? Look around, the entire world is like that! Even in Russia there were rich communists and poor ones. Those in power and those powered over. Anarchy isn’t going to change thousands of years of inbred behavior, Peter.”
“Leave off with the arguments,” Peter growled, standing up. “You thought you knew me, convinced yourself I didn’t go through Traitor’s Gate. You’re right, I didn’t. I’m here where my loyalties always lay. With the cause and Andrea.”
Tom shook his head. “Still adds up to the same thing, I don’t care how you feel about the Crown. I do care that you could do this to MI-5, to your mates.”
Peter sighed and nodded. “I’m sorry it came to this,” he said softly. “I was hoping we could slip away from you once you got us out of Siviter’s hands but then I saw what your assignment was and couldn’t let it go.”
“So you set me up?” Tom demanded, struggling to his feet. “You know they’ll kill me even if I gave them the information. And why set me up? You know I’ll never talk. You trained me, Peter, you know me.”
Peter closed his eyes for a moment and Tom had a moment of hope until Andrea slid her hand into Peter’s and he nodded to himself. “I do know you, Tom. And I trust Istvan’s word that you’ll be released. You know we can disappear; we won’t need to kill you. Do you want me to threaten you with violence, drugs, lack of sleep, food or water? Or do we skip to the main guns?”
Tom stared at his mentor for a moment. “What have you done, Peter?”
Peter looked pained and Andrea pulled him away, towards the group of anarchists as Istvan stepped in front of Tom. “He knows your weaknesses and strengths. Have you talked with your woman and her daughter in the last two days?”
The men standing on either side of Tom grabbed his arms before he could rush Istvan or Peter.
“No, he wouldn’t! Peter! You aren’t that far gone!” Tom yelled, struggling against his captors. “You wouldn’t do what Jules did to you both for a year!”
Peter winced and let Andrea lead him out of the garage.
Istvan watched with a frown. “It wasn’t easy for him but he is willing to do anything for Andrea. A year of separation only made him more desperate. Desperation I was able to use. Make this easier on him and your lady friend, Agent Quinn. Everyone walks away if you do.”
“Except the Princes, right?” Tom asked bitterly. “Go to hell! Peter once asked if I was willing to die for what I believe in. I didn’t get a chance to answer him but I will now.”
Istvan nodded and someone threw a black hood over Tom’s head and he felt himself being moved across the garage.
“That’s too bad, Agent Quinn,” Istvan’s voice said in his ear. “It’s not only Ellie, her daughter and your life. If you don’t tell us what we wish to know, Peter will join the three of you in unmarked graves.”
“You
bastard!” Tom shouted as someone opened a car door or boot lid. “He believes in
you and your cause enough to kill himself and you’d turn on him if I don’t
talk? You’re scum, nothing but a terrorist. Not the leader of a grand cause but
a low-life terrorist.”
Tom yelped slightly when a pistol hit him on the back of the neck. Rough hands
threw him into the trunk of the car.
“Yell for help and he and Andrea get shot first,” a voice threatened. “Then word goes to have your woman killed.”
“Bastards!”
# # #
Tom had no idea how much time had passed or how many times he had been “questioned.” It wasn’t by Peter, fortunately. Even if his mentor had betrayed him, Tom still felt a fondness for the disgraced agent. One of his weaknesses, he knew.
He was tired, bruised, hurting, and hungry. He had been allowed an occasional sip of water but damned little else. The anarchists had tried various methods to get information out of the agent. Most he had expected: beatings, threats, lack of sleep and ‘good cop, bad cop.’ None with any success.
Tom was surprised when the door to his tiny room was opened and a figure tossed inside. The door slammed shut and the man on the floor turned over slowly and Tom was off the floor and lifting Peter’s head up as his mentor moaned and coughed, blood flowing from his lips.
“Peter?” Tom asked anxiously.
It was obvious that Peter had been beaten badly and Tom didn’t like the darkness of the blood Peter was coughing up. Bright red would mean blood from a cut lip, blood vessel in the throat or nosebleed that was coming back up. Darker blood meant lungs or stomach injury.
Tom pulled Peter’s shirt up and winced at the bruises along the anarchist’s ribs and stomach, his barely healed stomach wounds flaring an angry red.
“Why the hell did they do this?” Tom demanded.
“Wouldn’t… let them… kill the little girl to force…” Peter muttered, moaning and clutching at his stomach. “Andrea… hit her… hurt.”
“Peter, goddamn it,” Tom whispered. “How could you trust them in the first place? Istvan causes all kinds of havoc and melts away, leaving others to take the fall, you knew that!”
Peter coughed as he tried to nod. His body spasmed again and Tom held the older man close.
“Tell them details,” Peter whispered. “I can get us out… just… trust me a bit… Had this… didn’t go through the Gate…”
Tom frowned as he held Peter. He knew this was probably another interrogation technique, even if Peter wasn’t in on it. Tom had no doubts Istvan would use anything to get the information Tom had about the movements of Prince William and Harry, even if it meant beating Peter to death to get it.
“Stupid idiot, you could have been useful to them with that genius mind of yours,” Tom muttered. “For a girl? You risked and lost everything for a girl?”
Peter tried to smile as he opened his eyes. “Sod off, mate,” he said loudly. “Tom, trust the master,” he whispered.
Tom sighed and laid Peter’s head back on the floor. He went to the door and began banging on it. “Come on, you bastards! He needs a doctor! Get him help and I’ll tell you what you need! He’s one of you, damnit!”
It was a minute before the door opened and Tom backed away from the pistols in the guard’s hands as Istvan smiled, glancing down at a moaning Peter.
“Get him up,” he said, pointing at the one-time agent. “He’ll be alright, Agent Quinn. Now, details about your Young Lions, ja?”
Tom nodded slowly.
# # #
tbc…