by Abigail Roux
“Everybody, sit the fuck down, don’t move a fucking muscle, and only speak
when I fucking tell you to! Now!” Remy shouted from the corner of the room where
he prowled around in a restless circle.
Brandt caught sight of the gun stuck in the waistband of Remy’s linen pants
as he turned around, and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
This didn’t bode well for group unity and all that. Or for Remy’s sanity, for
that matter.
Brandt looked at Carl as the man shuffled toward him and sat in the chair
beside him with a questioning glance. A stab of guilt shot through Brandt, and his entire body flushed unpleasantly. Now there was a man who understood the way
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Brandt worked. He hadn’t been bothered with his position in the group until he’d
found himself connecting with Carl more and more. Then the charade had played hell on what little conscience Brandt had retained over the years.
Brandt had never had a real friend. Someone who had understood him and
was able to meet both his mental and physical moves blow for blow. He’d never felt safe before. Not like this. And Carl was the reason for it. And even though Brandt hadn’t necessarily been lying to the other man, he’d certainly been withholding the truth.
Hell, Remy was right. Brandt was tired of the lies, too.
He sighed and watched Remy warily as Carl unconsciously rested his hand
on Brandt’s shoulder. Brandt shivered at the gentle touch and resigned himself to losing the only true companion he had ever known.
XXXI.
REMY clenched his fists as he looked at the six pairs of wide, wary eyes looking up at him from around the large dining table. He resisted the urge to throw a proper hissy fit as they all gaped at him. He was so fucking frustrated. Every one of them had a secret. Every one of them was hiding something, and though Remy had sniffed out
bits and pieces of each one, he didn’t know any of the full stories.
“This is the end,” he growled as he started to pace once more. Everything
he’d ever learned about proper interrogation techniques and intimidation and subtlety and anything else that would probably be good to use right now was all being thrown out the window and gleefully pissed on from above. Remy was too far past his
tolerance of bullshit for utilizing subtlety.
“We’re going to have it out right here, right now. Anyone I suspect of lying,
fibbing, stretching the truth, qualifying, prevaricating, looking at me the wrong way, or breathing my fucking air, will be shot!” he shouted, drawing his gun and waving it through the air.
Everyone flinched and Gray actually ducked. Remy growled at him.
“Did we, uh, miss something?” Gray asked uneasily as his eyes slid to look
at Thiago carefully.
“Yes!!” Remy shouted emphatically. “You missed your chance to escape the
fucking heart to heart we’re all about to have, couyon!” he snarled as he picked up one of the dining chairs by the back and slammed it back down forcefully. It creaked and he backed away until he was standing in the open, away from anything small and heavy and breakable. This was his stuff, damn it, and it was all valuable to him for one reason or another. If he needed to start throwing things, he was going to start tearing body parts off the others and tossing them around before he destroyed his own fucking furniture.
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“Who wants to fucking start?” he growled.
XXXII.
THEY sat and stared at Remy like ill-prepared schoolchildren hoping not to be the one the teacher picked to answer a difficult question.
Thiago watched Remy warily, his brain running at full speed, trying to judge
the ups and downs of having his identity released in this manner. He knew Brandt and Gray would have his back, and he knew Shawn would turn on him, but the others
were all toss-ups. Carl had developed an unwavering loyalty to both Brandt and
Nikolaus, and Nikolaus, in turn, seemed to admire Thiago a great deal. Remy had
cracked. He was just as likely to go loco and kill them all as he was to pick sides.
“All right, fine, I’ll go first!” Remy yelled angrily as his pacing kicked up a
notch.
“Remy, calm down,” Shawn said in a low voice. He sounded tired and
frustrated and… scared? Nervous?
Why would Shawn be frightened of what Remy had to say? If Remy was
right and they were each and every one of them keeping secrets, Thiago wanted to
know them. Shawn’s hesitancy just piqued his curiosity further.
“Fuck calm! Tell them, Shawn!” Remy shouted as he waved his good arm at
the rest of them. “Tell them what a Hunter is!”
Shawn paled visibly and his jaw clenched, but he didn’t move a muscle and
he didn’t take his eyes off Remy.
Thiago felt his heart stutter to a stop. “The Hunter?” he repeated in a hoarse
voice. He looked at Shawn in horror. “Are you the Hunter?” Shawn glanced at him
briefly but didn’t answer.
Remy stopped and stared at Shawn for several seconds before stepping up to
the table and slamming both of his hands down on it. He leaned over and glared at the other man menacingly, and when he spoke it was in a low, ominous purr. “Tell them, Shawn. Or I’ll have Gray do it.”
Shawn’s jaw clenched again and his eyelashes fluttered as he tried his best
not to blink in the face of Remy’s quiet rage. “It’s not… it’s not the Hunter,” he whispered. He shifted and glanced around at the startled and confused faces around him. “They’re a group,” he said with difficulty, his eyes fixed on the shiny top of the table.
“How many? What are they?” Thiago asked eagerly.
“There are thirteen, give or take a few, depending on each one’s status. They
act as a… a sort of Internal Affairs for the Organization,” Shawn said slowly. “They single out agents who have turned or are suspected of being disloyal.”
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“And do what with them?” Nikolaus asked. “Watch them? Kill them?”
Shawn shrugged noncommittally.
“Whatever’s called for,” he said as his eyes flickered up to Remy’s face.
“How do you know this?” Carl asked with a hint of dread in his voice.
“Because I’m one of them,” Shawn whispered.
A heavy silence descended upon the room, and Thiago found himself
stunned into immobility. The repercussions were so far-reaching that he couldn’t even begin to understand them.
“What was your objective?” Remy asked in a harsh, unforgiving voice.
Shawn flinched and ducked his head. “Start from the beginning.”
“I can’t,” Shawn said sadly. “I was assigned to you, Remy, that much you
know. I swore to them up and down that you were loyal, that you would never turn.
But now… they’ll kill us, now. Doesn’t matter what I tell them.”
Thiago stared at the other man as Remy backed away and circled the table.
He knelt beside Shawn, placing one hand on Shawn’s knee and the other on the man’s shoulder.
“Shawn,” he whispered pleadingly.
Shawn closed his eyes and turned his head slowly to face the younger man.
He forced his eyes open and looked as though he were looking into the sun when he tried to meet Remy’s gaze.
“Please,” Remy begged in a barely audible whisper. “If we know everything,
we can live through this. Together, Shawn. Be the man I thought you were… be the
man I love, and help us.”
Shawn swallo
wed with difficulty and he looked into Remy’s eyes as if
mesmerized. Thiago couldn’t see Remy’s face, but he knew that any man in his right mind would do anything those pleading brown eyes asked him to do.
“There’s too much, too much to explain,” Shawn said breathlessly. “I
wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“How about us? What do you know about why we were put together?” Carl
asked as he leaned forward and looked at Shawn with bright eyes. “You were sent to kill us, weren’t you?”
“Yes,” Shawn whispered, his green eyes never leaving Remy’s. “You were
all considered risks of some sort. All but the two of us,” he added.
Remy winced.
“Did you blow up the cabin?” Nikolaus asked in a horrified voice.
“No,” Shawn said in an insistent, hoarse voice. “I swear to you all, that
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wasn’t me.”
“Why didn’t you just shoot us, if you were sent to kill us? Why did you let
us live?” Carl demanded. He seemed to be the only one capable of complex thought at that moment. Thiago certainly wasn’t.
“But then who blew up the cabin?” Nikolaus squeaked in agitation.
“I don’t know,” Shawn said desperately as Remy stood up and backed away
from him. Shawn turned slightly and looked at them all. “I don’t know who blew it up, and that’s why I didn’t kill you then. I realized that they had sent a backup and I wondered why. I also… I care for all of you. Well,” he turned to look at Gray almost apologetically. “Not you, mate. Sorry, but I quite hate you still.”
“Feeling’s mutual,” Gray said graciously.
“It was because of me, wasn’t it?” Remy asked as he walked slowly around
the room. It was unnerving to have him pacing like that, and Thiago suspected he was doing it on purpose. “You failed your mission before, when I was the target, and so you thought they didn’t trust you. That’s why you thought they sent a backup plan.”
“I didn’t fail that mission. I was called off,” Shawn said in an odd, flat voice.
“They had targeted you as a liability, but then… then they decided to put me on you as a sleeper instead of eliminating you.”
“And that’s why you stuck with me,” Remy asked in a slightly hurt voice.
“You were waiting for me to turn traitor. You were supposed to worm your way into my trust and then turn me over when I flipped.”
“Remy,” Shawn begged as the rest of them watched tensely. Remy stared at
him blankly for several long seconds. “I may have been on a mission those first
several days, but not after. Not after you… please,” he said miserably.
Remy’s eyes softened slightly, but his jaw remained set. “We’ll come back
to that,” he finally whispered.
“What are you talking about when you say you were assigned? The Purges?”
Carl asked carefully.
Shawn and Remy stared at one another and didn’t answer. Finally, Shawn
took a shaky breath and said, “The Purging wasn’t a computer virus. It was an aid to the Hunters.”
“An aid?” Carl echoed.
Shawn nodded.
“A raid the month before had gone bad, and a group of agents came across
some information they weren’t supposed to see. Files and the like, detailing the
Organization's activities.”
“What activities?” Carl demanded.
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“I don’t know. Whatever it was, it was bad enough to warrant the mass
extermination of the entire group. We were ordered to clear out the roster from that mission, and any individuals they had come into contact with. There’s only thirteen of us. We were overworked. We needed help.”
“So, they had someone create this virus?” Thiago asked as his brain finally
kicked back into gear. “The targets weren’t random. Those nine agents who lost their lives were all successful hits. They were all part of that raid.”
“Aye. All but one. One of those nine deaths was a Hunter.”
Thiago looked at Brandt and Gray sharply to ensure that they said nothing
about the raid. “He was killed by his mark?” he asked.
“Yes,” Shawn murmured.
“And that’s where our Nikolaus comes in. Isn’t it, Niko?” Remy murmured
in a low, dangerous voice as he looked at Nikolaus from under lowered lashes.
Thiago and the rest all looked at Remy and then at Nikolaus in surprise.
“I… you see… but… well…,” Nikolaus stammered as he squirmed in his
seat and looked at them all with dread. “I don’t… how did you know that?” he asked desperately.
“It’s the only reason you would have been included in the group that needed
exterminating, Niko. I wasn’t sure until just now.”
“Son of a bitch!” Nikolaus muttered as he looked at Remy fearfully.
“No one’ll hurt you, mate,” Carl said soothingly as he glared at Remy to
make his point. “Tell us.”
“They came to me during my first week,” Nikolaus blurted out. “They told
me the scenario they wanted to set up and asked if it was possible. I said it was and they gave me the numbers to make the protocol. I didn’t know they were going to use it! I thought it was just how they tested newbies!”
“You created the Purge virus?” Thiago asked in shock.
“Yes!” Nikolaus cried in anguish. “And I remember the results of the data I
entered. Shawn was supposed to kill you. Both of you!” he murmured as he gestured at Thiago and Remy.
Shawn’s eyes widened and he turned to look at Thiago.
“You were the covert I never caught sight of?” he asked in a whisper. Thiago
blinked at him and Shawn stared back in shock. “Why would they have put you… and
then here… unless… my God,” Shawn stuttered as he pushed away from the table
and stood up quickly, sending his chair toppling backward.
Thiago jumped out of his seat as well and pulled his gun, pointing it at
Shawn even as Shawn mimicked the gesture and drew his own weapon.
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Thiago froze when the cold barrel of a pistol nudged his temple in warning,
and he rolled his eyes slightly to see Remy’s flat black eyes on him. Shawn was in much the same position, looking out of the sides of his eyes at Brandt, who’d drawn Carl’s gun and had it trained on the other man. How the two of them had moved so
quickly Thiago didn’t want to know, but it was definitely not a good idea for Brandt and Remy to both be armed, angry, and in charge of things. Not good at all.
Gray and Carl grabbed Nikolaus and pulled him away from the table by the
collar of his shirt. They crouched by the wall and Gray stood in front of Nikolaus protectively.
“That’s, uh, that’s called a Mexican standoff, Gizmo,” Carl whispered
carefully, sounding like a tour guide in a museum. “Don’t see those every day.”
“I think technically for it to be a Mexican standoff, Brandt and Remy would
both need another gun,” Gray whispered.
‘Smartass until the end, that one,’ Thiago thought with a slight smile.
“Let’s all just sit back down, shall we?” Remy suggested calmly as he
stepped in front of Thiago, shielding Thiago from Shawn’s line of fire, while at the same time blocking Thiago’s vision. He was protecting them both, and Thiago
relaxed slightly as he looked at Remy’s calm face. “We’re going to get through this without maiming one another,” the Cajun pronounced as everyone filtered back to
their se
ats. “Guns on the table. All of you,” he ordered as he threw his own weapon down. “Brandt, anything flammable, if you please. Your lighter too.”
Brandt sniffed as if he were insulted. “Threw it away,” he snarled. “Bastard
did unholy things to it,” he said sadly.
They stared at him uneasily for several long seconds, then everyone seemed
to shake out of the Brandt-induced stupor and look around warily.
“Where were we?” Remy asked pleasantly. “In case we all didn’t follow;
Shawn is a special Organization assassin sent to kill us all, Thiago is the Archer and therefore the reason we’re all here to begin with, Brandt and Gray both work for
Thiago, perhaps since the beginning, yeah?” Remy said slowly as he eyed the
Australian carefully. “And Nikolaus knew a whole lot more than he ever let on,
because it turns out that he orchestrated the whole fucking thing. Did I miss
anything?”
“You missed yourself,” Thiago growled angrily. “Whose fucking side are
you on, anyway?”
“Ours,” Remy said succinctly. “I made a promise. I am loyal to you,” he
said, enunciating each word with care as he waved his hand at all of them. “And only you,” he said softly. “I feel compelled to add Gray to our agreement. I quite like the bastard,” he added with a faint smile as he looked at Gray. As his words sank in.
everyone seemed to relax further.
“So wait, what?” Nikolaus asked in confusion. “Who’s working for who?
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Thiago’s the Archer?”
“I hate that fucking name!” Thiago shouted angrily as he banged his fist
against the table. “Whoever the hell came up with that name should be shot!” They all stared at him, and suddenly he knew how Brandt must have felt most of the time.
“Sorry,” he mumbled as he let his head fall onto his crossed arms.
“I’m sorry about the whole trying to kill you thing,” Shawn mumbled. “Just
sort of instinct,” he added with a shrug.
“No problem,” Thiago murmured as he looked over at Shawn and smiled
