The Archer

by Abigail Roux

  himself in time to see Shawn sliding his jeans to the ground. He stayed on his back, his weight resting on his elbows as he watched Shawn crawl back onto the bed.

  “That was a dirty trick there, Beignet,” he admonished as Shawn straddled

  him and grinned at him playfully. “You could have just asked.”

  “You always did respond well to torture, though. Besides, dirty tricks are my

  specialty,” Shawn said as he crawled up the bed and kissed Remy almost tenderly.

  Their kiss broke, and Shawn looked down at Remy’s stomach as he ran his

  finger gently along Remy’s ribcage.

  Remy knew what he was thinking. They’d certainly discussed it often

  enough. Shawn was feeling the scars of three different bullet wounds, numerous

  knives, and a burn made by a chain during one particularly interesting car chase, and he was remembering the missions they’d been on together. Even worse, he was

  pondering the missions they’d been on without each other, always wondering if the other would come back. He was trying to think of a way to convince Remy of his own mortality. Remy knew he was doing this because he almost always did it when they

  were together. Then the finger moved from Remy’s ribs to his navel and Shawn

  pushed up to his hands and knees once more.

  “How’s your back?” Shawn asked absently as he let his eyes roam over the

  various blemishes on Remy’s otherwise perfectly tanned torso.

  “You’re not trying to get out of fucking me, are you?” Remy accused with a

  small smirk. Shawn rolled his eyes and flopped back onto the bed, curling beside

  Remy in feigned exhaustion.

  “Interrogations take so much out of me,” he complained.

  “Pansy,” Remy accused in amusement.

  He inhaled the scent of Shawn’s hair fondly as he dug his blunt fingertips

  into Shawn’s back. Shawn responded by raising his head and kissing Remy’s jaw and neck.

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  “No more secrets,” he murmured into Remy’s ear. Remy held him tighter

  and nodded.

  They lay there for some time, each man entertaining his own thoughts and

  trying to work up the energy to grope each other. Shawn finally rose up onto his

  elbows and looked down at Remy. His green eyes seemed liquid in the half-light. If Remy hadn’t known him better, he would have thought the man was going to cry.

  “This is a fool’s errand, lad. A suicide mission.”

  “I know.”

  “And yet you took it without any promise of compensation?”

  “Shawn, I–”

  “Why didn’t you take the deal?”

  Remy remembered in vivid detail the conversation he’d had with Thierry St.

  John regarding retirement and shook his head sadly, not sure of how to explain his decision. Especially to Shawn.

  “Why?” Shawn pressed as he ran his fingers through Remy’s hair. Remy

  closed his eyes and tried to think of a plausible explanation. He couldn’t possibly use the real one. Not with Shawn. “Remy, you could come with me,” Shawn said

  hopefully. “We can leave all this behind,” he continued, his hand coming to gently rest on one of Remy’s many battle wounds.

  Remy blinked at him in surprise. “Come with you?”

  “Yeah,” Shawn said excitedly, as if he hoped that he was finally getting

  through to the younger man. “We can go back home to England. Or you could take

  me into the bayou and we could disappear if… if it would be enough to get you out.”

  “Shawn,” Remy murmured uncertainly. He’d never dreamt that Shawn

  would think along those lines. If he’d known Shawn would be willing to put up with him indefinitely, he would have taken retirement in a heartbeat. The knowledge that he couldn’t possibly do it now made his stomach clench uncomfortably and he

  squeezed his eyes closed. “I… I signed another contract. I’m theirs for five more years… at least.”

  Remy felt as if his heart were being compressed in a vice as he watched

  Shawn blanch in the half-light of the moon. The contracts agents signed weren’t

  really contracts in the legal sense of the word. They basically outlined the rules of engagement, and promised that if the agent fell out of contact for any length of time, went AWOL, or went rogue, he would be hunted down by the Organization and

  ‘discharged.’

  That word was the most feared word in Remy’s or any other agent’s

  vocabulary. He couldn’t even think it without shuddering uncontrollably. Shawn held him closer and buried his head in the waves of Remy’s dark hair, inhaling deeply and exhaling a slow, measured breath.

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  “You won’t make it five more years,” he mumbled sadly.

  Remy knew he was right.

  XIV.

  NIKOLAUS got up and retired to his room shortly after they’d heard Remy’s shout,

  and Thiago figured he’d been gone for roughly thirty minutes before he came

  staggering back out.

  “I cannot sleep,” he mumbled disconsolately, his German accent heavier

  with his exhaustion as he plopped back down beside Thiago on the couch.

  Thiago smiled and nodded understandingly. He didn’t know that he would

  be able to sleep either, considering the various things running through his mind. Aside from his brief walks around the perimeter of the cabin to keep him awake, Thiago’s mind had been free to wander.

  Nikolaus sat up with Thiago, ostensibly to keep him company, and they

  conversed sporadically as they waited to see if any of the others would emerge again.

  The young tech was curious and seemed eager to learn a new skill set. Thiago

  approved.

  “Do you suppose you could show me some moves?” Nikolaus asked

  hopefully.

  “I’m sure out of the five of us we can teach you some things,” Thiago

  responded with a laugh. “Carl would probably be the one to ask about fighting,

  though, considering he’s the expert in all things lethal.”

  “Are you really going to fuck Brandt?” Nikolaus asked abruptly. His eyes

  were as wide as saucers and Thiago found himself trying to decide what color they were. That was something that people didn’t normally notice unless it was a

  particularly outstanding feature. Like the green of Shawn’s eyes.

  “If he wants me to,” Thiago answered distractedly. “And like Carl said, if

  it’ll keep mi asno from being blown up, I’ll do anything. Besides, Shawn was right, was he not? Brandt is quite– ”

  “Crazy.”

  “‘Attractive’ was what I was going for.”

  “He made Carl scream.”

  “I heard.”

  “Carl. The very large assassin who could kill me with a button and a teapot.”

  “Yes.”

  “Made him scream like a little girl.”

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  “Sí, eso–”

  “Repeatedly.”

  “Nikolaus!”

  “Sorry. It’s just… he is very– ”

  “Large?” Thiago supplied with a smile.

  “I was going for ‘insane.’”

  “That too. But mental stability has never impeded ability in bed, so far as my

  experience goes, so I’m not going to worry about it.”

  “You’ve bedded many mentally unstable people, have you?”

  “I was married once,” Thiago deadpanned.

  “Really?”

  “That was sort of a joke, Nikolaus. You know agents don’t have families.”

  “Oh. Right. Well, maybe Brandt’s taken a li
king to Carl, and you won’t have

  to worry about it,” Nikolaus ventured hopefully.

  “One can only hope.”

  “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to stare into a fire when you’re on watch?”

  Remy asked softly from the darkness of the hallway. Thiago barely restrained himself from jumping.

  “Mierda,” he hissed, a little more harshly than he’d intended. “No

  sneaking!” he admonished as he sat forward and looked around the room as if there could be more people hiding in the flickering shadows.

  “Sorry. Old habits die hard, I s’pose,” Remy responded in a tired voice as he

  walked noiselessly over to sit on the hearth in front of the dying fire. “So used to skulking in the shadows I hardly ever notice when I’m doing it anymore,” he added as he sat gingerly, leaning forward to take the pressure off his lower back. Thiago

  watched him in the firelight, and even as the shadows and flame danced across his features, Thiago could see that Remy was drawn and weary. His accent was heavier

  as well, and Thiago took a moment to be amused.

  “Are you okay?” Nikolaus asked him quietly, leaning forward to peer at him.

  Remy looked at him and smiled weakly. “I’m tired,” he answered. His voice

  was hoarse.

  Thiago looked inquiringly at Remy and pursed his lips. “Shouldn’t you get

  some rest? You were up most of the night last night.”

  “Can’t. Beds are too fucking soft,” he responded grumpily.

  “Did he hurt you?” Thiago asked seriously.

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  “Shawn? No,” Remy answered in surprise. “Shawn would not hurt me. Not

  on purpose anyways,” he added with a smirk.

  “Ein geiler Schuft,” Nikolaus mumbled in apparent amusement.

  “Don’t know what that means, Peeshwank, but I’m sure it hurt my feelings if I did,” Remy whispered playfully.

  “Complains the trained killer about his hurt feelings,” Nikolaus scoffed.

  Thiago gave him a hard look, but he realized both Nikolaus and Remy were smirking at each other.

  “I got feelings,” Remy challenged in a hurt voice. “They right here,” he

  explained as he pointed to his shoulder and patted himself gently. “That’s where I like to shoot people,” he added as if it were an afterthought. “Hurt them on their feelings first give them a chance to say sorry.”

  “A chance to say they’re sorry?” Nikolaus laughed softly.

  “Even trained killers have their moral quirks,” Remy responded in a haughty

  tone. Thiago’s lips twitched in amusement.

  Nikolaus nodded. “So what was the…,” he mumbled, gesturing toward the

  bedroom and giving Remy a confused look.

  “The scream for mercy?” Remy provided with a wry grin. “Shawn was

  torturing me for information.”

  Nikolaus’s eyes widened comically. “Torturing you?”

  “Not wholeheartedly. A mere tiff,” Remy told them dramatically. “It’s okay

  now.”

  Thiago boggled at him. “Tiff?” he echoed hollowly.

  Remy looked up at him and Thiago saw him sigh and close his eyes as he

  looked away again.

  “Look,” he said quietly, serious once more, “I don’t expect you to

  understand how we work. Just know that Shawn, he my podna. My partner, my friend, comprenez? I trust him with my life. I trust him with your lives,” he said with an emphatic point at them in the firelight.

  Thiago met Remy’s dark eyes and held his gaze by sheer force of will for

  several moments, but he could read nothing in them in the darkness and so he turned to look at Nikolaus for guidance.

  “As long as you two don’t go crazy on us, whatever you do in your bed is

  fine with me,” Nikolaus said offhandedly as he stifled a yawn.

  “Why don’t you get some sleep, Niko,” Remy suggested softly.

  Nikolaus looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding. “Yes, I think I

  may. You two should think about sleep too, yes? Especially you,” he said with a

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  teasing finger wagged at Remy.

  “We have to have a guard,” Thiago muttered.

  “Do we? Really?” Nikolaus asked innocently as he stood up. “Do we really

  need someone to keep watch out here in the middle of nowhere? Not a soul at the

  Organization knows we’re here, much less anyone outside of it. Just the six of us know the location, and we’ve already discussed that issue, no?”

  Remy and Thiago shared a look, and Remy gave a little shrug.

  “He’s probably right,” Remy said to Thiago in a low voice, as if maybe

  Nikolaus couldn’t hear him. “The only threat right now is from Brandt and that

  broken stove,” he grinned.

  Nikolaus headed for the hallway, muttering in German.

  Thiago sat examining Remy for a moment as the fire hissed and popped in

  the silence.

  “If you want to get some sleep,” Remy said to him in a low voice, unmoving

  as he spoke, “I will take your watch.” Outlined by the fire and masked in shadow, Remy seemed to transform into something more menacing as the words emitted from

  the darkness.

  The effect gave Thiago chills. “Is there a reason you want to take the watch

  night after night?” he asked evenly. “It would worry a more suspicious man, no?”

  “Non, is just insomnia,” Remy answered. He sniffed and shook his head. The movement broke the eerie effect given to him by the fire and Thiago licked his lips and frowned. Remy stood slowly, stretching his back and twisting from side to side before heading toward the hall. Thiago lunged to his feet and grabbed his arm. He stepped in front of him and glared at the younger man menacingly.

  “I know you enjoy playing games,” he snarled in a barely audible tone, “but

  playing games with me is a dangerous way to die. Understand?”

  Thiago was slightly surprised he didn’t get more of a reaction from Remy.

  He knew he was frightening when he needed to be, and he knew his tone of voice

  brooked no argument. But Remy didn’t seem at all fazed. The younger man was

  actually grinning.

  “I’m not playing games with you, che. I been honest with you at every turn.

  Even when I was trying to deceive you I was being honest.” Remy cocked his head

  and narrowed his eyes. “Can you say the same thing?”

  “Of course,” Thiago said defensively as his mind tried to evaluate the truth

  of his own statement. He was pretty certain he hadn’t misled any of the others in any way, aside from… well, the obvious.

  He knew Remy wasn’t as inept as he made out to be. And he knew Brandt

  wasn’t as crazy as he made out to be. They all had their protective coatings, and

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  though Thiago hadn’t yet deciphered what the other three men were using as their

  shields, Thiago readily admitted that his was his suspicion. Some of his questions had been warranted, like wanting to know about Shawn and Remy, but the truth was that Thiago did trust these men. He trusted them with his life at this point. He had to.

  Their knowledge and acceptance of his suspicion simply gave him some much needed

  leeway to work with.

  Remy made an odd hissing sound, like one used to shoo away a cat, and he

  looked pointedly at Thiago’s hand still on his elbow.

  “Shall I take you to bed with me, then? Or are you going to let go of my arm

  now?”

  Thiago looked down at his hand but didn’t remove it. When he looked b
ack

  up Remy was smiling at him, one eyebrow raised questioningly. “When you said you

  did not take the Organization’s offer,” Thiago murmured, his fingers digging into Remy’s wiry muscles as he met his dark eyes, “what did you take instead?” he

  inquired curiously.

  “Why?” Remy asked in confusion. Thiago could see a wariness creeping into

  the Cajun’s eyes that he had yet to see.

  “Humor my curiosity,” Thiago murmured.

  Remy gave his head a jerk to the side as his eyes searched Thiago’s

  countenance. “I took five more years of service,” he answered finally.

  “¿Cuál era ése?” Thiago questioned in a stunned voice as he let his hand

  drop from Remy’s arm.

  “I signed on for five more years,” Remy repeated slowly.

  “Gilún,” Thiago breathed in something akin to horror. “You fool.”

  The kid was either crazier than Brandt or suicidal. All of Thiago’s contracts

  had been six-month contracts in case of the very real possibility of burning out. A commitment that long was simply loco.

  Something clicked as he looked into Remy’s eyes, and Thiago finally

  understood.

  Remy didn’t expect to live through this mission. He hadn’t expected to live

  through it before he had even accepted it.

  Thiago studied Remy’s face intently in the flickering firelight.

  “Why are you here, Remy?” he asked softly.

  “Where Shawn goes, I follow,” Remy whispered in answer, not even

  hesitating to answer.

  “Bullshit,” Thiago responded, though it came out uncertain and questioning.

  “Truth,” Remy corrected. “This is not a mission we will all live through if

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  we do not work together. I will not see him die. And so, I will say nothing but the truth. And I ask for it in return.”

  “Truth.”

  “Trust, Thiago. We must trust.”

  “Trust,” Thiago repeated doubtfully.

  “Are you the Archer, Thiago?” Remy asked suddenly, with a glint of

  mischief in his eyes.

  Thiago creased his brow in confusion and found himself smiling at the