Fic: One More Cup of Coffee, part two
Title: One More Cup of Coffee
Previous Parts: Part One
Control sighed as he read the same sentence for what had to be at least the fifth time, and he still didn't know what it said. He glanced up at the clock, rubbing his hand over his face when he realized that it had only been five minutes since the last time he had looked. He had told Philip to call him the instant he retrieved Tony, and he still hadn't heard from the other man. It was very worrying, and the longer it went with no word the more worried Control got.
He very nearly jumped when the silence of his office was suddenly broken by the ringing of the phone. He reached for the receiver, frowning slightly when he noticed his hand shaking.
"This is the Secret Service. Control speaking."
The voice on the other end of the line was tired. "Hello, Control. It's Philip. I'm afraid that I have some bad news for you."
Control's blood suddenly ran cold, and he had to force his voice to remain steady. "What exactly do you mean by bad news, Philip? What has happened to Tony?"
Philip sighed, and Control could just barely hear the sound of the other man running a hand through his hair. "That's the thing, Control. He's not here. From what I've been able to piece together he was here, but then he left with someone else." Philip paused. "One of the people I talked to said that it didn't look like Tony went with him willingly."
For a long moment Control forgot to breathe. "How did they manage to find him, Philip? He was certain that he had evaded them completely when he managed to call me."
Control could almost hear Philip's apologetic shrug even through the phone line. "I wish I knew, Control. I've checked and double checked lately, so I know it wasn't anything on my end. And I highly doubt it was Tony. He's too good of an agent to be caught out like an amateur that way."
That was certainly the truth. Some of the other agents might think that Tony was a bit quirky, especially because of his extremely polite way of speaking, something that Control had always rather liked, but everyone agreed that he was an exemplary agent. And if he had believed that he had managed to get away from his pursuers, then he had. Which meant that something else had happened to give Tony away.
He heard a faint clicking over the phone line, and his eyes widened when he realized what it must have been. He had been correct in his suppositions that there was a mole in his office, and the mole had tapped his phone. The mole had heard his conversation with Tony, and had sent his fellow double agents to capture him just when Tony would have felt safe.
"Yes, Tony is a good agent, Philip." Control did his best to keep his voice level so as not to reveal to the listening mole that he was aware of him. "I'm sure that if there is any way at all for him to escape, that he will manage to do so. In the mean time, I shall do everything in my power to find him."
Philip seemed to catch on that something wasn't quite right. "Of course, Control. I have a few extra agents that I can bring in to Berlin to do some legwork for you." His voice was sympathetic, though thankfully not overly so. "We'll find him, Control. Just you wait and see."
"Thank you very much for that, Philip. I do appreciate all of your hard work. Now I had best go and make my report. I'm afraid that our masters in Whitehall won't be happy with this at all." He hung up the phone, mind whirling as he tried to figure out the best way to find out just which of his agents had gone rogue. He needed to know as quickly as possible since Tony's life could very well be at stake, and Tony was not something that Control was willing to risk.
He had just started to get up when his office door burst open and Eric came in, one arm wrapped around a terrified Valerie's throat and a gun pointed at her head. Control froze in his seat, hands on the arms of his chair. Apparently he wouldn't have to go searching for the rogue agent after all. Instead, he would have to try to talk him down long enough to save Valerie, and hopefully find out what the other man knew about what had happened to Tony.
"Eric, what do you think you're doing? Please let Valerie go. She hasn't done anything to you."
The other man sneered, never releasing his hold on Valerie. "Oh, hasn't she? I've lost count of the number of times that I tried to get closer to her, tried to let her know how I felt about her." He tilted his head forward to speak directly into her ear. "And every time you blew me off in favor of Tony Murchison. Nothing I did was ever as good as him, and he was too oblivious to even realize it. I've been the laughingstock of the secret service, and I just couldn't take it anymore."
Control sucked in a loud breath, inching one hand closer to his desk drawer. "You're the one who told them where Tony would be, aren't you? You set up a fellow agent of the Queen simply because you were jealous of him."
Eric tightened his hold on Valerie, causing her to gasp for breath. "I wouldn't have had to set him up if he had just had the decency not to escape the first time. It was sheer luck that I was monitoring the tap on your phone when he called for help. I shall be greatly rewarded by my superiors for delivering Murchison to them. They were quite eager for the chance to grab him."
Control's hand was still slowly heading for his desk drawer, but it almost jerked to a halt at the sheer malice in the other man's voice when he spoke of Tony. Then his fingers brushed the drawer handle, and he glanced to the side to meet Valerie's frightened eyes. She was visibly trying not to hyper-ventilate, but she looked at him bravely and gave the barest of nods. She was still utterly terrified, but she would be ready to move when he gave her a signal.
Then the choice was taken out of his hands.
Eric tightened his grip on Valerie's throat once more, then turned the gun on Control. "You should be thankful that I'm willing to make your death quick and painless. Murchison will be begging for death by the time they're finished with him."
The sudden roaring in Control's ears at that almost drowned out Eric's grunt of pain as Valerie viciously slammed her elbow back into his stomach. The rogue agent practically flung her to the ground, gun swinging to aim at her rather than at Control. For his part, Control jerked open the desk drawer and grabbed the gun that he kept concealed there, bringing it up to aim at Eric.
Then the sharp crack of both guns firing echoed through the room, and Control watched dispassionately as Eric slowly toppled to the ground, Control's bullet in his heart. A pained gurgle brought Control sliding out of his chair and onto his knees next to a bleeding Valerie. She coughed wetly, and Control grimaced at the blood that flecked her lips. The bullet had apparently struck a lung, and Valerie was currently dying on his office floor.
She tried to smile up at him, reaching up to try to rub off a bright drop of blood that had landed on his cheek when she coughed. "You will save Tony, won't you, Control?" Valerie's voice was weak and breathy as she tried to talk, and Control had to lean down to make certain that he heard her. After everything she had done, the very least he could do was to make sure that her last words were heard.
"Of course, Valerie. Tony shall be back in London safe and sound before you know it." They both knew that he was fibbing again, but he thought that she probably appreciated the sentiment anyway.
"Thank you, Control." She coughed again weakly, more blood dribbling down her chin. "And when you find him, would you please tell Tony that I love him, and that I'm sorry that I couldn't tell him myself?"
Control didn't bother to ask her to tell Tony herself. They both knew that she was dying, and Control wouldn't cheapen her death by pretending that it wasn't happening. "I promise that I will, Valerie." He ignored the sound of pounding footsteps heading for him, and leaned down far enough to press a kiss to Valerie's forehead and lightly grasp her hand. "I am so very sorry that things had to turn out this way, Valerie."
She chuckled faintly. "So am I, Control. So am I." Then her breath hitched, her eyes slid closed and her hand slipped limply out of Control's grasp.
Control closed his eyes, forcing back tears as he let the newly arrived agents pull him away from Valerie's body. Then he took a deep breath, reached for his dropped gun and pushed himself to his feet. He ignored the questions that the other agents were practically shouting at him and virtually marched out of his office, his back ramrod straight.
He had a promise to keep, and a missing agent to find.
* * *
Tony hated to admit it, even to himself, but he was afraid. The men who had taken him had blindfolded him only a few minutes into the car trip, tying the scarf almost too tightly across his eyes and completely blocking his vision. Then they had driven for what had felt like hours, but with the number of turns they had made they could have taken him almost anywhere in or around Berlin. Which meant that he had no idea where he was.
When the car had finally stopped he had been pulled out roughly, his bound hands making it hard for him to get his balance. They dragged him along by the handcuffs, never bothering to remove the blindfold. Eventually he was shoved down in a chair, one wrist released just long enough for them to pull his arms around behind his back and cuff him again with the handcuff chain attached somehow to the back of the chair.
Then they had left him, still blindfolded and bound to the chair. He was able to stretch his legs out, but that was about the only movement he could make. The blindfold kept him in complete darkness, and if anyone was still in the room with him they were making no noise. It was extremely unnerving.
He forced his breathing to remain slow and even, twisting his hands to see if there was any way for him to get out of the handcuffs. After a few minutes he was forced to admit that there wasn't, but he kept trying anyway, being careful not to rub his wrists raw.
The longer he sat in silence the faster his heart began to race, no matter how he tried to calm himself. And the more the pain in his head began to spike and throb in time with his pulse. He finally closed his eyes under the blindfold and began mentally chanting to himself in rhythm with his breathing.
'Control will find me. Control will find me. Control will find me.'
His mantra was interrupted when what he assumed was the door to the room slammed open, loudly banging against the wall and making him jerk in his chair. He could hear two pairs of shoes tapping against the floor as the men circled him, neither of them saying a word. He turned his head, trying to keep at least one of them in what would have been visual range had he not been blindfolded, but it was difficult when they were circling his chair in opposite directions.
Then suddenly one of them shot out a hand and hit him across the jaw, making his head rock back and bright sparks explode behind his eyes. Only an instant later, the other one (at least Tony assumed that it was the other one) hit him open-handed across the back of his head, forcing his body away from the chair and putting painful pressure on his bound wrists and arms.
The beating soon moved away from his pounding head as punches were aimed at his chest and abdomen, though none of the blows were quite strong enough to break any bones. In the back of his mind he theorized that they were attempting to cause the maximum amount of pain with the least amount of actual physical damage. And unfortunately for him, if that was indeed the case, they were both very talented.
They seemed to decide that it was time for a break when one blow nearly knocked his chair over backwards, something that more than likely would have resulted in at least one broken arm. They steadied his chair, gave him one last smack across the mouth that split his lower lip and walked out of the room, closing the door behind themselves.
The entire agonizing scene had been acted out in a complete silence that had only been broken by Tony's gasps of pain.
Tony absently licked his now-bloody lips as he tried to squirm into a slightly more comfortable position in his chair, and failed miserably. No matter how he twisted and shifted his entire body hurt, the majority of the pain focusing on his pounding head and aching chest. He took a deep breath, hissing when his almost-certainly bruised ribs protested.
They hadn't asked him any questions, hadn't made any demands. Either they were simply attempting to loosen him up a bit before starting on the actual interrogation, or there wasn't going to be any interrogation at all, and he was being used as an object lesson. Either way, things weren't looking very good at all.
But one thought kept repeating in his mind and kept him from giving up all hope. Control knew that he was missing, because Philip would have told him. And Control would eventually find him and save him. He just had to hang on until then. He wouldn't let Control down.
* * *
Control quickly made his way down to the sub-basement of the Secret Service building, completely ignoring anyone who tried to talk to him. The speed of gossip was faster than light even among intelligence agents, and he could almost feel the pity that his fellow agents were sending his way, though whether it was pity for his murdered secretary or his missing and captured agent he didn't know, nor did he particularly care.
All he cared about was getting the equipment that he would need to mount a rescue mission, getting to Berlin and then getting Tony back in one piece.
If it had been any other agent who had gone missing Control would have left the retrieval mission to other agents who were still out in the field, a fact he freely admitted. But he couldn't find it in himself to leave Tony's rescue to anyone else, even though it had been years since Control had been out in the field himself. He simply couldn't trust Tony's safety to anyone else.
Which was why he was going to fly out to Berlin and take over the rescue mission personally.
Of course, Control was well aware of the fact that his being behind a desk for the past few years would make his rescue operation a bit more difficult, which was why he was going to make absolutely certain that he was properly equipped. It simply would not do for him to get to Berlin and then be unable to rescue Tony due to a lack of proper equipment.
He pushed open the door to Arthur's office, ducking automatically as something he didn't bother to identify came sailing out of the office and over his head. Arthur was the Secret Service's version of Q, so everyone mostly ignored his idiosyncrasies. Even the ones that had an unfortunate tendency to explode, which was quite a few of them.
Control had barely managed to get the office door closed behind him when Arthur himself suddenly popped up from behind the desk, a pair of odd-looking goggles hiding his eyes. "Control, what can I do you for today? It's not often that you pay anyone down here a visit." He grinned, shoving the goggles back to rest against the top of his head.
Control tried to smile back politely, but couldn't quite manage it. "I am in desperate need of assistance, Arthur, and quickly. I have an agent to rescue, and not much time to do it in. I shall need a complete outfitting, I'm afraid."
The smile almost fell from Arthur's face and he grew quickly serious. "It's young Murchison, isn't it?" He chuckled dryly at Control's mildly shocked expression. "You care about the safety of all of your agents, Control, but there aren't many that you would go out into the field for, and Murchison is at the top of the list. What sort of trouble has he gotten into now?"
Control sighed. "I'm afraid that he had been captured by enemy agents, Arthur. He would have managed to save himself if it hadn't been for a mole in my own office. Now, what will I need to rescue him?"
Arthur practically dove into a large box and began riffling through the contents, muttering to himself the entire time. From time to time he would pull out an object, tilt his head at it in thought and either drop it back into the box or sit it on his desk. The small pile of miscellaneous objects on the desk grew until finally Arthur sat back on his heels and nodded in apparent satisfaction.
"Here's what you need, Control. There's even a couple of things here that I wouldn't normally give to anyone, but I'm making an exception for you. Anything at all to help Murchison." He reached for one of the smaller items, holding it up for Control's inspection. "This is an electronic bug detector. It looks like an ordinary wrist watch, but if you press this button on the side of the watch face the hands will move to tell you whether there are any microphones within one hundred yards."
Arthur then reached for something else while Control slipped the bug detector on his wrist. "Now this looks like an ordinary belt with which you hold up your trousers...which it will certainly do. However, there is also a very thin, very strong rope within the belt which is attached to the buckle, which doubles as a grappling hook. The rope is virtually invisible, but is sturdy enough to hold the weight of four grown men safely."
Control arched an eyebrow as he reached for the belt. It didn't sound like something that he would need, but it was better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it. And if he didn't have it, the odds were quite good that he would indeed need it.
"Now this you'll need to be extra careful with, Control. It looks like a perfectly ordinary ink pen. However, if you click the button twice, it turns into an armed grenade. You'll have thirty seconds after arming it before it explodes. If necessary, you can disarm it by clicking it three more times." Arthur reached out and tucked the pen bomb into Control's shirt pocket.
Finally he picked up a small plastic case and popped it open. "And this is my personal favorite: the skeleton key lock picks. There hasn't been a lock invented that these picks can't open. It sounds to me like you'll need them."
Control took the case and slipped it into his coat pocket. "Thank you very much, Arthur. I'm certain that these will help tremendously. I must be on my way now, though. I'm afraid that Tony may not have much time left, and I still do not know exactly where he is."
Arthur's lips twitched up in a small smile as he patted Control on the arm. "You'll save him, Control. And he knows that."
Control nodded, thanked Arthur again and walked out of the office. Arthur just shook his head in wry amusement. Perhaps once Control had rescued young Murchison the two of them would finally realize how they felt about each other. Though that might be giving the two stubborn and oblivious men just a little bit too much credit.
* * *
Tony had no idea how long it had been since the men had left him. The blindfold was still tied tightly across his eyes, and his arms were beginning to ache from being pulled behind him. And no matter how hard he had tried, his wrists were painfully raw from rubbing against the handcuffs. On top of the bruises that he could feel rising across his torso and his lingering headache, Tony was one big ball of discomfort.
His head jerked up when he heard the door open, and he sputtered when a bucket of freezing cold water was unceremoniously dumped over his head. He choked as some of the water went down his throat, his coughing making pain flair hotly in his bruised ribs. He jerked his head back when he sensed a hand moving towards his face, but suddenly a hand gripped his chin hard, holding his head still. Then the blindfold was yanked off.
Tony blinked as he tried to shake the water out of his eyes so that he could look around. The room he was in was very small, nothing but bare concrete walls and no windows. One bare lightbulb hung over his head, leaving the room somewhat gloomy looking.
There was one man standing in front of the closed, and Tony assumed locked, door with his arms crossed over his chest and virtually no expression on his face. The other man was standing in front of Tony, the wet blindfold still clutched in his hand. Unlike the door guard, this man had what could only be described as an evil smile on his face and his cool blue eyes were lit with an almost unholy mirth at Tony's pain.
Tony took a deep breath, mentally reminding himself once again that Control would eventually find him, and focused on the man in front of him. "I don't know why you felt the need to kidnap me, sir, but I feel that I should warn you that if you did so in an attempt to gain some useful intelligence, I'm afraid that you shall be sadly disappointed."
The man chuckled, and the sound sent shivers up Tony's spine. "The problem with that supposition, Murchison, is you are assuming that we want to make you talk. While that would be a nice bonus, I will admit, that isn't the main purpose behind grabbing you." He shook his head, reaching out to slide a finger down Tony's cheek before suddenly backhanding him and once again splitting his lower lip.
"What we want is for you to suffer, Murchison."
Tony licked the blood off of his lips with a grimace. While it was a good thing that he wouldn't have to watch his tongue quite so diligently to make certain that he didn't spill any important national secrets, the idea that they were going to torture him simply for fun filled him with an icy dread. He could only hope that Control would arrive soon.
* * *
Once Control left Arthur's office he took only enough time to make a few vital phone calls: one call for Mrs. Control to let her know that things at the office had taken a bad turn and that he wouldn't be home for a while, and one call for Philip to let the other man know that Control was on his way to Germany, and that he should put together a report on what he had discovered while searching for Tony to be available as soon as Control arrived. The call to Mrs. Control at least had been short; oftentimes she either didn't expect him to come home or she wasn't home herself as she spent a great deal of time off visiting her sister.
The call to Philip had been short as well, though not nearly so simple. The other man had managed to find a few leads, but he wasn't overly optimistic about them, something that it was fairly obvious he hated having to tell Control. It seemed as though Tony had simply vanished into thin air, and finding him was going to be difficult. And adding to the uncertainty was the very real possibility that the longer it took to find him the more likely it would be that he would no longer be alive for them to find.
Control had to forcibly avoid thoughts like that, as every time he started to worry that Tony might no longer be alive the mental image of a bloody and broken Tony would appear in his mind, complete with whispered accusations that Control simply hadn't tried hard enough to find him, that it was Control's fault that he was dead. And while he knew that the real Tony would never blame him for his predicament, Control couldn't help but at least partially blame himself.
He hadn't wanted to send Tony back undercover, and he had known that Tony was loathe to go back under as well, no matter how the other man had tried to hide it. But he had felt that he had no choice, and despite his misgivings he had sent Tony out with minimal information and no backup into a very dangerous situation that had almost immediately blown up in his face. And no matter what his mind told him, Control knew that if anything happened to Tony he would never be able to forgive himself.
He sighed as he stepped onto the plane that would take him to Berlin. All of Arthur's gadgets were secreted on his person and he had the preliminary reports of corruption among the German agents that Tony had gone to investigate. He hoped that between the information he already had and the information that Philip was collecting for him he would be able to at least come up with a place to start.
And a place to start was all that he really needed. As uncomfortable as he often found it, so long as he had access to one man who was involved in the plot to kidnap Tony he would be able to find out everything that the man knew. Control may have hated having to preside over interrogations, but that didn't mean that he couldn't do it. And for Tony he would be willing to do almost anything. He only needed a chance.
And perhaps, if he did get Tony back safely, he would finally tell the other man just how he felt.
* * *
The second time the two men had left him alone in the small room they had also left the blindfold off, though it didn't make things very much easier for Tony. While he could see, which was certainly nice, there was simply nothing in the small room for him to look at and nothing for him to use to measure just how long he had been trapped there. He was still chained to the chair, and everything that wasn't bruised beyond belief was starting to violently cramp, especially his bound arms. He was hungry, he was thirsty, he was tired and he was terribly frightened.
Eventually the door opened again, and this time a woman entered. She was small and thin, with large blue eyes and a long, dark brown braid hanging down her back. She stared at him in silence as she closed the door behind her, then shook her head and clicked her tongue at him.
She walked around behind him and started moving things around that he couldn't quite manage to see. After a moment she came back, a glass of water in one hand. All without speaking, she knelt in front of Tony's chair and pressed the glass to his lips, tilting it up slowly so that he could drink.
The pressure of the glass split his lower lip yet again, and the blood that oozed out of the cut stained his mouth and flavored the water with the almost sickening taste of iron. He gulped the water anyway, his thirst canceling out any real concerns that the water might be drugged. Drugging him didn't seem to be these people's style anyway, so Tony felt it was worth the risk.
After he had drained the glass, the woman stood back up and once again walked around behind him. When she appeared the second time, she was holding a piece of bread which she held in front of his mouth just close enough for him to stretch his neck out and eat it. And once he had finished, she reached out to pat his head before pulling a new blindfold out of her jacket pocket and fastening it across his eyes again.
Once she was certain that the blindfold was secure she patted his head again and then walked towards the door. While Tony couldn't see, he could hear the door open and what sounded like footsteps going out before the door closed again, leaving him alone once more.
Tony was fairly certain that he knew where this new angle was heading. The two men would beat him, and then the woman would come in and feed him, make him a bit more comfortable. He would eventually come to rely on her and appreciate her. Then they would allow her to join in on the beatings, or perhaps they would pretend that they were going to beat her while forcing him to watch. Either way, he was fairly certain that she was in on the whole sorry thing, and would do his best not to fall for any of their tricks.
He sighed, shifting in his chair and trying to take some of the pressure off of his arms. He just had to hang on long enough for Control to find him. Though if he could find some way to save himself, it would make things so much easier for Control. He would wait, though he didn't have much of a choice in that regard, and watch for an opportunity to escape. And in the meantime, he would simply try to survive.
* * *
Philip was waiting when Control's plane landed in Berlin. The other man was pacing in the arrivals area, a briefcase clutched in one hand while the other hand was constantly running back and forth through his straight blond hair. He had a worried frown on his face, and from the dark circles under his eyes it was obvious that he was exhausted.
Control walked quickly towards him, sighing when he saw Philip's apologetic head shake. "I'm sorry, Control, but we still haven't been able to figure out where Tony's been taken. We have a few more leads, but nothing concrete."
Control just patted Philip on the shoulder. "It's not your fault, Philip. I know that you are doing your best, and I'm certain that Tony knows it, as well. We shall persevere."
Philip nodded and handed over the briefcase. "Everything that I've found so far is in there, Control. And I've informed all of my agents that are still out in the field investigating to inform you the moment they have any additional information. If you have any questions, all of the agents' contact information is in the briefcase, in code of course."
"Of course." He sighed, straightening his already straight suit jacket. "Is there anything else, Philip?"
Philip glanced around the busy airport, then stepped closer to Control and lowered his voice. "Well, there is one more thing, Control. This is completely unofficial, and if anyone asks neither you nor I had anything to do with anything, but there is a safe house just on the outskirts of Berlin that is fully stocked with anything you or Tony might need, including weapons. Just in case. Directions are in the case, along with a key."
The barest of smiles twitched Control's lips at that. Philip was ignoring several rules and regulations in telling him this, and Control greatly appreciated the risk the other man was taking. "Thank you, Philip. I can't tell you how much this means to me."
"Just bring Tony back, Control. He's worth it, and a lot more besides."
Control nodded. "Yes, he is, isn't he?" He shook Philip's hand, expression almost unnaturally calm. "Thank you again, Philip. Hopefully, all of this won't be necessary."
Then as Control walked away, Philip stared after him and shook his head, voice so low that no one else could hear him. "Somehow, I don't think you're going to be that lucky, Control. I just hope that this doesn't push you too far."
* * *
Tony had just barely managed to doze off despite the ache in his head and arms when the door to his cell slammed open, the noise causing him to jerk his head up too quickly. He hissed at the new pain in his neck, then grunted as a hand suddenly appeared on the back of his head and pushed him as far forward on the chair as his bound hands would allow. One cuff was unlocked, and his arms were unceremoniously pulled in front of him and then recuffed.
The hand moved from his head to his elbow and forced him to lurch to his feet. His legs were cramped from being unable to shift them enough, and Tony stumbled sideways into his captor, earning him a sharp smack across the mouth. The blindfold was yanked off, and he blinked rapidly in the sudden light.
One man was holding his arm, while two others were standing guard at the door. The room itself was empty except for his chair, a small table sitting against the back wall and a rather ominous-looking bucket over in the far corner. He grimaced when he was dragged over towards the bucket, painfully aware of what its purpose more than likely was. When the man at his elbow smirked at him and gestured towards his belt, Tony knew that he was correct in his suppositions.
He kept his eyes trained on the wall in front of him as he unzipped his pants. As humiliating as the whole experience was he was forced to admit that at least it was somewhat less horrific than the alternative. He did his best to ignore the other men in the room, though it was rather difficult with one of them still tightly gripping his arm.
Once he was finished he was allowed to re-zip his pants, then he was dragged back over to the chair and virtually dropped into it. They repeated the uncuffing and recuffing ritual again, though while they forced his arms back behind him again they didn't attach the handcuff chain to the chair. Then they retied the blindfold tightly across his eyes.
Unlike the last times he had been visited in his cell, he didn't hear the door open. Instead, he heard the barely-there footsteps of one of the men walking slowly around his chair. He tried to brace for the blow that he knew was coming, but it was much more forceful than any of the others he had suffered.
And because he was no longer chained to the chair he slammed painfully into the floor. He just managed to twist as he fell so that he wouldn't land on his bound wrists, but the impact still jarred his arms as he couldn't catch himself properly. He heard the chair scraping the floor as it was shoved away an instant before a booted foot kicked at his ribs. He could hear one rib crack as pain flared hotly in his chest, made even worse by his instinctive inhalation.
The blows continued to rain down, though none of them were quite as damaging at the first kick. Tony tried to curl around his injured midsection, but that only encouraged his captor to move his blows to his back and sides.
The beating continued for several minutes, though his captor was careful not to break any more bones. Eventually, one blow missed its intended target and slammed into his head, dropping Tony into blissful unconsciousness.
* * *
Control glanced around the hallway as he slipped the key into the lock. The building certainly didn't look like it contained a safe house, which he supposed was the point of putting it there in the first place. But since the key that Philip had given him fit the lock perfectly, he gathered that it was indeed the safe house he had spoken about.
He opened the door quietly and stepped inside, closing the door behind him as he looked around the room. The front room looked like any front room in any flat, and it only became evident that it wasn't just any ordinary flat when Control entered the bedroom.
There were all sorts of medical supplies against one wall that Control very fervently hoped that he wouldn't need, even though he had a sinking suspicion that he probably would. Though when he gave it a bit more thought, he wouldn't actually be upset at all at having to make use of the medical supplies if it meant that Tony was alive for him to use them on.
On the other side of the room from the medical supplies was the weaponry that Philip had promised him. There was a little of everything there, from normal pistols to at least two different sniper rifles to knives of all sizes to what looked like a crossbow. Control wasn't sure what sort of situation would call for a crossbow, but he supposed that whoever had supplied the safe house had simply been covering all of the bases.
There were various other things around the room, and a quick glance at the kitchen showed that there was enough food stockpiled to feed a small army for several weeks. Control nodded in satisfaction; all he would have to do was find Tony and bring him back to the safe house. They would be able to remain there safely for as long as it took for Tony to be able to travel.
All that was left for Control to do was to find him and rescue him.
* * *
The first thing Tony was aware of when he finally returned to consciousness was pain. It radiated through every part of his body, though the pain was especially strong in his head and his chest. He tried his best not to move, hoping that if there was anyone watching him they thought that he was still unconscious. He strained his ears, keeping his breathing shallow so as not to aggravate his cracked rib.
After a few moments of silence he finally decided that he had once again been left alone in his cell. He carefully blinked his eyes open, sighing when he realized that the blindfold was still covering his eyes. He shifted slightly on the floor to try to take the pressure off of his somewhat numb arm, wincing as a pins and needles feeling began shooting up from his wrist.
He jerked when he heard the chair scrape backwards on the floor. Apparently he wasn't quite as alone as he had thought.
"So, how are you enjoying your stay here, Murchison? Having fun yet?"
Tony raised his head, turning in the general direction of the voice even though he couldn't actually see the man who was speaking. "I must..." He coughed then, trying to clear his throat. "I must admit that I'm not exactly enjoying my stay here at all. The accommodations leave something to be desired, I'm afraid to say."
His head rocked back when a fist connected with his already sore jaw. "I hate to admit it, but I'm impressed with you, Murchison. I didn't think that you would still be capable of snark like that. Of course, I didn't know that you were ever capable of snark, so who knows if perhaps your captivity is having an effect on you, after all."
That statement had Tony somewhat confused. The man's voice wasn't familiar, so he had no idea where the man might have known him from, or even if he had known him at all. He supposed that he might have worked with one of the other rogue agents before, and they might have told this man what he was like.
Suddenly a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders, and Tony was manhandled until he was on his feet, teeth clenched at the increasing pain in his chest. Then he was forced down into the chair, the whole time still completely blind. A glass was pressed to his rather dry and cracked lips, and water was poured into his mouth. Unlike when the unnamed woman had aided him, the water was poured too fast for him to drink, causing it to spill down his chin.
He choked slightly on the liquid, the sudden coughing putting even more pressure on his sore ribs and burning his throat. He shook his head in an attempt to shake the water from his face, but strong fingers suddenly tightened in his hair, holding his head still. Then they yanked his head backwards, the angle straining his neck.
Even though he couldn't see, he could sense the other man's face mere inches from his own. "Stay still, Murchison. If you won't behave, steps will have to be taken."
The other man's voice was cold, but Tony could hear a hint of amused malice in it, making him shudder. The fingers were still tightly gripping his hair, keeping him from moving his head even a little bit, and that small loss of freedom made Tony's blood run cold.
"Now, are you going to be a good boy, Murchison, or am I going to have to teach you a lesson?"
Tony didn't say a word. He simply tried to relax his neck muscles in order to loosen a bit of the tension that resulted from having his head pulled so far back. It didn't really work all that well, but he figured that any lessening of pain would be a good thing. Then he shuddered as the fingers that had been gripping his hair began stroking through it instead. He was fairly certain that this new twist was simply an attempt to unnerve him, but that knowledge unfortunately in no way kept him from being unnerved as his captors wanted.
He was actually somewhat relieved when the hand finally left his hair and struck him across the mouth instead. The pain of a beating he was at least familiar with, and while he would certainly never choose it, he had to admit that it was better than what the fingers in his hair had intimated.
It was only a moment before he received a blow strong enough to fling him from the chair again and drop him to the floor. He didn't quite manage to twist properly this time and landed fairly hard on his bound wrists, though thankfully not quite hard enough to break any bones, though from the pain shooting up his arms it was a close thing indeed.
His captor managed to avoid striking his head this time, so Tony was forced to remain conscious during the entire beating. He gasped when he felt another rib snap, and from the sharp pain it was fairly obvious that this one wasn't merely cracked. Another kick caught his knee, and he could feel the joint wrench painfully.
An indeterminate amount of time later the beating finally stopped. Tony was curled up on the floor still trying to protect his ribs, a feat made more difficult since he couldn't use his arms as they were still cuffed behind his back. He flinched slightly when the other man spit at him, just barely managing to jerk his head out of the way.
He followed the sound of the other man's footsteps as he walked towards the door. The man paused when he reached it, and Tony could feel the weight of the other man's gaze as he stared back over his shoulder at him.
"Enjoy your reprieve while it lasts, Murchison. We've been lenient so far. It won't last for much longer."
Tony heard the door open and his captor walk through. Then it closed with a loud bang, leaving Tony all alone with only his thoughts and his pain for company.
* * *
Control was somewhat nervous as he sat in a corner of the small cafe. It had been some time since he was last out in the field, and he hated the fact that his return to fieldwork was brought about by Tony's going missing. Well, he would have hated the idea that Tony had gone missing no matter what, but he especially hated the fact that Tony's well-being depended on his somewhat rusty undercover skills.
He glanced casually around the cafe, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man he was looking for. Philip's information had stated that one of the men that they suspected of being involved with the ring of rogue agents that Tony had come to investigate often frequented this cafe, and Control was planning on having a stiff word with him should the other man show up.
Every few moments he would glance down at his wrist, where the bug detector disguised as a watch rested, but so far there was no electronic activity. The belt that Arthur had given him was safely around his waist, and the pen bomb was tucked in his shirt pocket where he could get to it quickly in the event of an emergency.
He absently took a sip of his coffee, grimacing once again at the taste. It wasn't nearly as good as Tony's coffee, but it was almost instinctive for him to take a drink if he had a coffee cup in front of him. He only ever realized what he was doing when the rather bitter taste exploded across his tongue.
Control was beginning to consider moving on to his next target when the man he had been waiting for finally entered the cafe, thankfully alone. He waited for the other man to take a seat, also over in a corner, then rose to his feet and made his way to the other man's table.
He sat down across from the suspected rogue agent, allowing his jacket to open just enough for the other man to see that he was armed. The other man's eyes widened slightly, and Control allowed himself to feel a hint of satisfaction. Perhaps he wasn't completely rusty at this, after all.
"What do you know about the British agent that was kidnapped? If you tell me everything you know, I shall be nice and let you go. Otherwise, I will be forced to become violent, something that I would rather not have to do."
The other man stammered for a moment, but apparently something in Control's eyes told him that he was serious. He glanced furtively around the cafe, then leaned forward and began to speak in a hushed tone of voice.
"I don't know much, and that's the truth. All I know is that a group of guys grabbed him at the airport and took him somewhere in the city. I got no idea who's behind the whole thing, only that this wasn't a mission approved by any of the Russian higher-ups. Whoever's doing this, it's personal."
Control's blood ran cold at that thought. He had assumed that Tony had been taken simply because he was a British agent, and the Soviets intended to interrogate him. The idea that someone had taken him instead simply because he was Tony Murchison was almost more than Control could bear.
"Do you know where he is?"
The other man shook his head. "All I know is that he's probably still alive. I got the idea that they wanted him to suffer before they finally killed him."
All that Control could hear for a long moment was his own blood roaring in his ears. His eyes went cold as he stared at the rogue agent in front of him. "You will leave here, you will not speak to anyone and you will not tell anyone that you have seen me, or I shall have to track you down and kill you."
The rogue agent hesitated for only a moment before he stiffly rose to his feet and left the cafe, glancing over his shoulder at Control the entire time. For his part, Control simply took a long sip of his rather bad coffee, and tried to decide who else on Philip's list might have the information he needed.
* * *
Philip sat on a bench in one of Berlin's small parks, trying to decide what to do with the information he had just been given. One of his most trusted agents had finally returned from an intelligence gathering mission, and had told Philip the one thing that he had not been prepared to hear. He now knew the identity of the man who was ultimately behind Tony Murchison's abduction. He knew why the whole sorry incident had come about.
The only question now was how he was going to tell Control.
Part Three
Previous Parts: Part One
Control sighed as he read the same sentence for what had to be at least the fifth time, and he still didn't know what it said. He glanced up at the clock, rubbing his hand over his face when he realized that it had only been five minutes since the last time he had looked. He had told Philip to call him the instant he retrieved Tony, and he still hadn't heard from the other man. It was very worrying, and the longer it went with no word the more worried Control got.
He very nearly jumped when the silence of his office was suddenly broken by the ringing of the phone. He reached for the receiver, frowning slightly when he noticed his hand shaking.
"This is the Secret Service. Control speaking."
The voice on the other end of the line was tired. "Hello, Control. It's Philip. I'm afraid that I have some bad news for you."
Control's blood suddenly ran cold, and he had to force his voice to remain steady. "What exactly do you mean by bad news, Philip? What has happened to Tony?"
Philip sighed, and Control could just barely hear the sound of the other man running a hand through his hair. "That's the thing, Control. He's not here. From what I've been able to piece together he was here, but then he left with someone else." Philip paused. "One of the people I talked to said that it didn't look like Tony went with him willingly."
For a long moment Control forgot to breathe. "How did they manage to find him, Philip? He was certain that he had evaded them completely when he managed to call me."
Control could almost hear Philip's apologetic shrug even through the phone line. "I wish I knew, Control. I've checked and double checked lately, so I know it wasn't anything on my end. And I highly doubt it was Tony. He's too good of an agent to be caught out like an amateur that way."
That was certainly the truth. Some of the other agents might think that Tony was a bit quirky, especially because of his extremely polite way of speaking, something that Control had always rather liked, but everyone agreed that he was an exemplary agent. And if he had believed that he had managed to get away from his pursuers, then he had. Which meant that something else had happened to give Tony away.
He heard a faint clicking over the phone line, and his eyes widened when he realized what it must have been. He had been correct in his suppositions that there was a mole in his office, and the mole had tapped his phone. The mole had heard his conversation with Tony, and had sent his fellow double agents to capture him just when Tony would have felt safe.
"Yes, Tony is a good agent, Philip." Control did his best to keep his voice level so as not to reveal to the listening mole that he was aware of him. "I'm sure that if there is any way at all for him to escape, that he will manage to do so. In the mean time, I shall do everything in my power to find him."
Philip seemed to catch on that something wasn't quite right. "Of course, Control. I have a few extra agents that I can bring in to Berlin to do some legwork for you." His voice was sympathetic, though thankfully not overly so. "We'll find him, Control. Just you wait and see."
"Thank you very much for that, Philip. I do appreciate all of your hard work. Now I had best go and make my report. I'm afraid that our masters in Whitehall won't be happy with this at all." He hung up the phone, mind whirling as he tried to figure out the best way to find out just which of his agents had gone rogue. He needed to know as quickly as possible since Tony's life could very well be at stake, and Tony was not something that Control was willing to risk.
He had just started to get up when his office door burst open and Eric came in, one arm wrapped around a terrified Valerie's throat and a gun pointed at her head. Control froze in his seat, hands on the arms of his chair. Apparently he wouldn't have to go searching for the rogue agent after all. Instead, he would have to try to talk him down long enough to save Valerie, and hopefully find out what the other man knew about what had happened to Tony.
"Eric, what do you think you're doing? Please let Valerie go. She hasn't done anything to you."
The other man sneered, never releasing his hold on Valerie. "Oh, hasn't she? I've lost count of the number of times that I tried to get closer to her, tried to let her know how I felt about her." He tilted his head forward to speak directly into her ear. "And every time you blew me off in favor of Tony Murchison. Nothing I did was ever as good as him, and he was too oblivious to even realize it. I've been the laughingstock of the secret service, and I just couldn't take it anymore."
Control sucked in a loud breath, inching one hand closer to his desk drawer. "You're the one who told them where Tony would be, aren't you? You set up a fellow agent of the Queen simply because you were jealous of him."
Eric tightened his hold on Valerie, causing her to gasp for breath. "I wouldn't have had to set him up if he had just had the decency not to escape the first time. It was sheer luck that I was monitoring the tap on your phone when he called for help. I shall be greatly rewarded by my superiors for delivering Murchison to them. They were quite eager for the chance to grab him."
Control's hand was still slowly heading for his desk drawer, but it almost jerked to a halt at the sheer malice in the other man's voice when he spoke of Tony. Then his fingers brushed the drawer handle, and he glanced to the side to meet Valerie's frightened eyes. She was visibly trying not to hyper-ventilate, but she looked at him bravely and gave the barest of nods. She was still utterly terrified, but she would be ready to move when he gave her a signal.
Then the choice was taken out of his hands.
Eric tightened his grip on Valerie's throat once more, then turned the gun on Control. "You should be thankful that I'm willing to make your death quick and painless. Murchison will be begging for death by the time they're finished with him."
The sudden roaring in Control's ears at that almost drowned out Eric's grunt of pain as Valerie viciously slammed her elbow back into his stomach. The rogue agent practically flung her to the ground, gun swinging to aim at her rather than at Control. For his part, Control jerked open the desk drawer and grabbed the gun that he kept concealed there, bringing it up to aim at Eric.
Then the sharp crack of both guns firing echoed through the room, and Control watched dispassionately as Eric slowly toppled to the ground, Control's bullet in his heart. A pained gurgle brought Control sliding out of his chair and onto his knees next to a bleeding Valerie. She coughed wetly, and Control grimaced at the blood that flecked her lips. The bullet had apparently struck a lung, and Valerie was currently dying on his office floor.
She tried to smile up at him, reaching up to try to rub off a bright drop of blood that had landed on his cheek when she coughed. "You will save Tony, won't you, Control?" Valerie's voice was weak and breathy as she tried to talk, and Control had to lean down to make certain that he heard her. After everything she had done, the very least he could do was to make sure that her last words were heard.
"Of course, Valerie. Tony shall be back in London safe and sound before you know it." They both knew that he was fibbing again, but he thought that she probably appreciated the sentiment anyway.
"Thank you, Control." She coughed again weakly, more blood dribbling down her chin. "And when you find him, would you please tell Tony that I love him, and that I'm sorry that I couldn't tell him myself?"
Control didn't bother to ask her to tell Tony herself. They both knew that she was dying, and Control wouldn't cheapen her death by pretending that it wasn't happening. "I promise that I will, Valerie." He ignored the sound of pounding footsteps heading for him, and leaned down far enough to press a kiss to Valerie's forehead and lightly grasp her hand. "I am so very sorry that things had to turn out this way, Valerie."
She chuckled faintly. "So am I, Control. So am I." Then her breath hitched, her eyes slid closed and her hand slipped limply out of Control's grasp.
Control closed his eyes, forcing back tears as he let the newly arrived agents pull him away from Valerie's body. Then he took a deep breath, reached for his dropped gun and pushed himself to his feet. He ignored the questions that the other agents were practically shouting at him and virtually marched out of his office, his back ramrod straight.
He had a promise to keep, and a missing agent to find.
* * *
Tony hated to admit it, even to himself, but he was afraid. The men who had taken him had blindfolded him only a few minutes into the car trip, tying the scarf almost too tightly across his eyes and completely blocking his vision. Then they had driven for what had felt like hours, but with the number of turns they had made they could have taken him almost anywhere in or around Berlin. Which meant that he had no idea where he was.
When the car had finally stopped he had been pulled out roughly, his bound hands making it hard for him to get his balance. They dragged him along by the handcuffs, never bothering to remove the blindfold. Eventually he was shoved down in a chair, one wrist released just long enough for them to pull his arms around behind his back and cuff him again with the handcuff chain attached somehow to the back of the chair.
Then they had left him, still blindfolded and bound to the chair. He was able to stretch his legs out, but that was about the only movement he could make. The blindfold kept him in complete darkness, and if anyone was still in the room with him they were making no noise. It was extremely unnerving.
He forced his breathing to remain slow and even, twisting his hands to see if there was any way for him to get out of the handcuffs. After a few minutes he was forced to admit that there wasn't, but he kept trying anyway, being careful not to rub his wrists raw.
The longer he sat in silence the faster his heart began to race, no matter how he tried to calm himself. And the more the pain in his head began to spike and throb in time with his pulse. He finally closed his eyes under the blindfold and began mentally chanting to himself in rhythm with his breathing.
'Control will find me. Control will find me. Control will find me.'
His mantra was interrupted when what he assumed was the door to the room slammed open, loudly banging against the wall and making him jerk in his chair. He could hear two pairs of shoes tapping against the floor as the men circled him, neither of them saying a word. He turned his head, trying to keep at least one of them in what would have been visual range had he not been blindfolded, but it was difficult when they were circling his chair in opposite directions.
Then suddenly one of them shot out a hand and hit him across the jaw, making his head rock back and bright sparks explode behind his eyes. Only an instant later, the other one (at least Tony assumed that it was the other one) hit him open-handed across the back of his head, forcing his body away from the chair and putting painful pressure on his bound wrists and arms.
The beating soon moved away from his pounding head as punches were aimed at his chest and abdomen, though none of the blows were quite strong enough to break any bones. In the back of his mind he theorized that they were attempting to cause the maximum amount of pain with the least amount of actual physical damage. And unfortunately for him, if that was indeed the case, they were both very talented.
They seemed to decide that it was time for a break when one blow nearly knocked his chair over backwards, something that more than likely would have resulted in at least one broken arm. They steadied his chair, gave him one last smack across the mouth that split his lower lip and walked out of the room, closing the door behind themselves.
The entire agonizing scene had been acted out in a complete silence that had only been broken by Tony's gasps of pain.
Tony absently licked his now-bloody lips as he tried to squirm into a slightly more comfortable position in his chair, and failed miserably. No matter how he twisted and shifted his entire body hurt, the majority of the pain focusing on his pounding head and aching chest. He took a deep breath, hissing when his almost-certainly bruised ribs protested.
They hadn't asked him any questions, hadn't made any demands. Either they were simply attempting to loosen him up a bit before starting on the actual interrogation, or there wasn't going to be any interrogation at all, and he was being used as an object lesson. Either way, things weren't looking very good at all.
But one thought kept repeating in his mind and kept him from giving up all hope. Control knew that he was missing, because Philip would have told him. And Control would eventually find him and save him. He just had to hang on until then. He wouldn't let Control down.
* * *
Control quickly made his way down to the sub-basement of the Secret Service building, completely ignoring anyone who tried to talk to him. The speed of gossip was faster than light even among intelligence agents, and he could almost feel the pity that his fellow agents were sending his way, though whether it was pity for his murdered secretary or his missing and captured agent he didn't know, nor did he particularly care.
All he cared about was getting the equipment that he would need to mount a rescue mission, getting to Berlin and then getting Tony back in one piece.
If it had been any other agent who had gone missing Control would have left the retrieval mission to other agents who were still out in the field, a fact he freely admitted. But he couldn't find it in himself to leave Tony's rescue to anyone else, even though it had been years since Control had been out in the field himself. He simply couldn't trust Tony's safety to anyone else.
Which was why he was going to fly out to Berlin and take over the rescue mission personally.
Of course, Control was well aware of the fact that his being behind a desk for the past few years would make his rescue operation a bit more difficult, which was why he was going to make absolutely certain that he was properly equipped. It simply would not do for him to get to Berlin and then be unable to rescue Tony due to a lack of proper equipment.
He pushed open the door to Arthur's office, ducking automatically as something he didn't bother to identify came sailing out of the office and over his head. Arthur was the Secret Service's version of Q, so everyone mostly ignored his idiosyncrasies. Even the ones that had an unfortunate tendency to explode, which was quite a few of them.
Control had barely managed to get the office door closed behind him when Arthur himself suddenly popped up from behind the desk, a pair of odd-looking goggles hiding his eyes. "Control, what can I do you for today? It's not often that you pay anyone down here a visit." He grinned, shoving the goggles back to rest against the top of his head.
Control tried to smile back politely, but couldn't quite manage it. "I am in desperate need of assistance, Arthur, and quickly. I have an agent to rescue, and not much time to do it in. I shall need a complete outfitting, I'm afraid."
The smile almost fell from Arthur's face and he grew quickly serious. "It's young Murchison, isn't it?" He chuckled dryly at Control's mildly shocked expression. "You care about the safety of all of your agents, Control, but there aren't many that you would go out into the field for, and Murchison is at the top of the list. What sort of trouble has he gotten into now?"
Control sighed. "I'm afraid that he had been captured by enemy agents, Arthur. He would have managed to save himself if it hadn't been for a mole in my own office. Now, what will I need to rescue him?"
Arthur practically dove into a large box and began riffling through the contents, muttering to himself the entire time. From time to time he would pull out an object, tilt his head at it in thought and either drop it back into the box or sit it on his desk. The small pile of miscellaneous objects on the desk grew until finally Arthur sat back on his heels and nodded in apparent satisfaction.
"Here's what you need, Control. There's even a couple of things here that I wouldn't normally give to anyone, but I'm making an exception for you. Anything at all to help Murchison." He reached for one of the smaller items, holding it up for Control's inspection. "This is an electronic bug detector. It looks like an ordinary wrist watch, but if you press this button on the side of the watch face the hands will move to tell you whether there are any microphones within one hundred yards."
Arthur then reached for something else while Control slipped the bug detector on his wrist. "Now this looks like an ordinary belt with which you hold up your trousers...which it will certainly do. However, there is also a very thin, very strong rope within the belt which is attached to the buckle, which doubles as a grappling hook. The rope is virtually invisible, but is sturdy enough to hold the weight of four grown men safely."
Control arched an eyebrow as he reached for the belt. It didn't sound like something that he would need, but it was better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it. And if he didn't have it, the odds were quite good that he would indeed need it.
"Now this you'll need to be extra careful with, Control. It looks like a perfectly ordinary ink pen. However, if you click the button twice, it turns into an armed grenade. You'll have thirty seconds after arming it before it explodes. If necessary, you can disarm it by clicking it three more times." Arthur reached out and tucked the pen bomb into Control's shirt pocket.
Finally he picked up a small plastic case and popped it open. "And this is my personal favorite: the skeleton key lock picks. There hasn't been a lock invented that these picks can't open. It sounds to me like you'll need them."
Control took the case and slipped it into his coat pocket. "Thank you very much, Arthur. I'm certain that these will help tremendously. I must be on my way now, though. I'm afraid that Tony may not have much time left, and I still do not know exactly where he is."
Arthur's lips twitched up in a small smile as he patted Control on the arm. "You'll save him, Control. And he knows that."
Control nodded, thanked Arthur again and walked out of the office. Arthur just shook his head in wry amusement. Perhaps once Control had rescued young Murchison the two of them would finally realize how they felt about each other. Though that might be giving the two stubborn and oblivious men just a little bit too much credit.
* * *
Tony had no idea how long it had been since the men had left him. The blindfold was still tied tightly across his eyes, and his arms were beginning to ache from being pulled behind him. And no matter how hard he had tried, his wrists were painfully raw from rubbing against the handcuffs. On top of the bruises that he could feel rising across his torso and his lingering headache, Tony was one big ball of discomfort.
His head jerked up when he heard the door open, and he sputtered when a bucket of freezing cold water was unceremoniously dumped over his head. He choked as some of the water went down his throat, his coughing making pain flair hotly in his bruised ribs. He jerked his head back when he sensed a hand moving towards his face, but suddenly a hand gripped his chin hard, holding his head still. Then the blindfold was yanked off.
Tony blinked as he tried to shake the water out of his eyes so that he could look around. The room he was in was very small, nothing but bare concrete walls and no windows. One bare lightbulb hung over his head, leaving the room somewhat gloomy looking.
There was one man standing in front of the closed, and Tony assumed locked, door with his arms crossed over his chest and virtually no expression on his face. The other man was standing in front of Tony, the wet blindfold still clutched in his hand. Unlike the door guard, this man had what could only be described as an evil smile on his face and his cool blue eyes were lit with an almost unholy mirth at Tony's pain.
Tony took a deep breath, mentally reminding himself once again that Control would eventually find him, and focused on the man in front of him. "I don't know why you felt the need to kidnap me, sir, but I feel that I should warn you that if you did so in an attempt to gain some useful intelligence, I'm afraid that you shall be sadly disappointed."
The man chuckled, and the sound sent shivers up Tony's spine. "The problem with that supposition, Murchison, is you are assuming that we want to make you talk. While that would be a nice bonus, I will admit, that isn't the main purpose behind grabbing you." He shook his head, reaching out to slide a finger down Tony's cheek before suddenly backhanding him and once again splitting his lower lip.
"What we want is for you to suffer, Murchison."
Tony licked the blood off of his lips with a grimace. While it was a good thing that he wouldn't have to watch his tongue quite so diligently to make certain that he didn't spill any important national secrets, the idea that they were going to torture him simply for fun filled him with an icy dread. He could only hope that Control would arrive soon.
* * *
Once Control left Arthur's office he took only enough time to make a few vital phone calls: one call for Mrs. Control to let her know that things at the office had taken a bad turn and that he wouldn't be home for a while, and one call for Philip to let the other man know that Control was on his way to Germany, and that he should put together a report on what he had discovered while searching for Tony to be available as soon as Control arrived. The call to Mrs. Control at least had been short; oftentimes she either didn't expect him to come home or she wasn't home herself as she spent a great deal of time off visiting her sister.
The call to Philip had been short as well, though not nearly so simple. The other man had managed to find a few leads, but he wasn't overly optimistic about them, something that it was fairly obvious he hated having to tell Control. It seemed as though Tony had simply vanished into thin air, and finding him was going to be difficult. And adding to the uncertainty was the very real possibility that the longer it took to find him the more likely it would be that he would no longer be alive for them to find.
Control had to forcibly avoid thoughts like that, as every time he started to worry that Tony might no longer be alive the mental image of a bloody and broken Tony would appear in his mind, complete with whispered accusations that Control simply hadn't tried hard enough to find him, that it was Control's fault that he was dead. And while he knew that the real Tony would never blame him for his predicament, Control couldn't help but at least partially blame himself.
He hadn't wanted to send Tony back undercover, and he had known that Tony was loathe to go back under as well, no matter how the other man had tried to hide it. But he had felt that he had no choice, and despite his misgivings he had sent Tony out with minimal information and no backup into a very dangerous situation that had almost immediately blown up in his face. And no matter what his mind told him, Control knew that if anything happened to Tony he would never be able to forgive himself.
He sighed as he stepped onto the plane that would take him to Berlin. All of Arthur's gadgets were secreted on his person and he had the preliminary reports of corruption among the German agents that Tony had gone to investigate. He hoped that between the information he already had and the information that Philip was collecting for him he would be able to at least come up with a place to start.
And a place to start was all that he really needed. As uncomfortable as he often found it, so long as he had access to one man who was involved in the plot to kidnap Tony he would be able to find out everything that the man knew. Control may have hated having to preside over interrogations, but that didn't mean that he couldn't do it. And for Tony he would be willing to do almost anything. He only needed a chance.
And perhaps, if he did get Tony back safely, he would finally tell the other man just how he felt.
* * *
The second time the two men had left him alone in the small room they had also left the blindfold off, though it didn't make things very much easier for Tony. While he could see, which was certainly nice, there was simply nothing in the small room for him to look at and nothing for him to use to measure just how long he had been trapped there. He was still chained to the chair, and everything that wasn't bruised beyond belief was starting to violently cramp, especially his bound arms. He was hungry, he was thirsty, he was tired and he was terribly frightened.
Eventually the door opened again, and this time a woman entered. She was small and thin, with large blue eyes and a long, dark brown braid hanging down her back. She stared at him in silence as she closed the door behind her, then shook her head and clicked her tongue at him.
She walked around behind him and started moving things around that he couldn't quite manage to see. After a moment she came back, a glass of water in one hand. All without speaking, she knelt in front of Tony's chair and pressed the glass to his lips, tilting it up slowly so that he could drink.
The pressure of the glass split his lower lip yet again, and the blood that oozed out of the cut stained his mouth and flavored the water with the almost sickening taste of iron. He gulped the water anyway, his thirst canceling out any real concerns that the water might be drugged. Drugging him didn't seem to be these people's style anyway, so Tony felt it was worth the risk.
After he had drained the glass, the woman stood back up and once again walked around behind him. When she appeared the second time, she was holding a piece of bread which she held in front of his mouth just close enough for him to stretch his neck out and eat it. And once he had finished, she reached out to pat his head before pulling a new blindfold out of her jacket pocket and fastening it across his eyes again.
Once she was certain that the blindfold was secure she patted his head again and then walked towards the door. While Tony couldn't see, he could hear the door open and what sounded like footsteps going out before the door closed again, leaving him alone once more.
Tony was fairly certain that he knew where this new angle was heading. The two men would beat him, and then the woman would come in and feed him, make him a bit more comfortable. He would eventually come to rely on her and appreciate her. Then they would allow her to join in on the beatings, or perhaps they would pretend that they were going to beat her while forcing him to watch. Either way, he was fairly certain that she was in on the whole sorry thing, and would do his best not to fall for any of their tricks.
He sighed, shifting in his chair and trying to take some of the pressure off of his arms. He just had to hang on long enough for Control to find him. Though if he could find some way to save himself, it would make things so much easier for Control. He would wait, though he didn't have much of a choice in that regard, and watch for an opportunity to escape. And in the meantime, he would simply try to survive.
* * *
Philip was waiting when Control's plane landed in Berlin. The other man was pacing in the arrivals area, a briefcase clutched in one hand while the other hand was constantly running back and forth through his straight blond hair. He had a worried frown on his face, and from the dark circles under his eyes it was obvious that he was exhausted.
Control walked quickly towards him, sighing when he saw Philip's apologetic head shake. "I'm sorry, Control, but we still haven't been able to figure out where Tony's been taken. We have a few more leads, but nothing concrete."
Control just patted Philip on the shoulder. "It's not your fault, Philip. I know that you are doing your best, and I'm certain that Tony knows it, as well. We shall persevere."
Philip nodded and handed over the briefcase. "Everything that I've found so far is in there, Control. And I've informed all of my agents that are still out in the field investigating to inform you the moment they have any additional information. If you have any questions, all of the agents' contact information is in the briefcase, in code of course."
"Of course." He sighed, straightening his already straight suit jacket. "Is there anything else, Philip?"
Philip glanced around the busy airport, then stepped closer to Control and lowered his voice. "Well, there is one more thing, Control. This is completely unofficial, and if anyone asks neither you nor I had anything to do with anything, but there is a safe house just on the outskirts of Berlin that is fully stocked with anything you or Tony might need, including weapons. Just in case. Directions are in the case, along with a key."
The barest of smiles twitched Control's lips at that. Philip was ignoring several rules and regulations in telling him this, and Control greatly appreciated the risk the other man was taking. "Thank you, Philip. I can't tell you how much this means to me."
"Just bring Tony back, Control. He's worth it, and a lot more besides."
Control nodded. "Yes, he is, isn't he?" He shook Philip's hand, expression almost unnaturally calm. "Thank you again, Philip. Hopefully, all of this won't be necessary."
Then as Control walked away, Philip stared after him and shook his head, voice so low that no one else could hear him. "Somehow, I don't think you're going to be that lucky, Control. I just hope that this doesn't push you too far."
* * *
Tony had just barely managed to doze off despite the ache in his head and arms when the door to his cell slammed open, the noise causing him to jerk his head up too quickly. He hissed at the new pain in his neck, then grunted as a hand suddenly appeared on the back of his head and pushed him as far forward on the chair as his bound hands would allow. One cuff was unlocked, and his arms were unceremoniously pulled in front of him and then recuffed.
The hand moved from his head to his elbow and forced him to lurch to his feet. His legs were cramped from being unable to shift them enough, and Tony stumbled sideways into his captor, earning him a sharp smack across the mouth. The blindfold was yanked off, and he blinked rapidly in the sudden light.
One man was holding his arm, while two others were standing guard at the door. The room itself was empty except for his chair, a small table sitting against the back wall and a rather ominous-looking bucket over in the far corner. He grimaced when he was dragged over towards the bucket, painfully aware of what its purpose more than likely was. When the man at his elbow smirked at him and gestured towards his belt, Tony knew that he was correct in his suppositions.
He kept his eyes trained on the wall in front of him as he unzipped his pants. As humiliating as the whole experience was he was forced to admit that at least it was somewhat less horrific than the alternative. He did his best to ignore the other men in the room, though it was rather difficult with one of them still tightly gripping his arm.
Once he was finished he was allowed to re-zip his pants, then he was dragged back over to the chair and virtually dropped into it. They repeated the uncuffing and recuffing ritual again, though while they forced his arms back behind him again they didn't attach the handcuff chain to the chair. Then they retied the blindfold tightly across his eyes.
Unlike the last times he had been visited in his cell, he didn't hear the door open. Instead, he heard the barely-there footsteps of one of the men walking slowly around his chair. He tried to brace for the blow that he knew was coming, but it was much more forceful than any of the others he had suffered.
And because he was no longer chained to the chair he slammed painfully into the floor. He just managed to twist as he fell so that he wouldn't land on his bound wrists, but the impact still jarred his arms as he couldn't catch himself properly. He heard the chair scraping the floor as it was shoved away an instant before a booted foot kicked at his ribs. He could hear one rib crack as pain flared hotly in his chest, made even worse by his instinctive inhalation.
The blows continued to rain down, though none of them were quite as damaging at the first kick. Tony tried to curl around his injured midsection, but that only encouraged his captor to move his blows to his back and sides.
The beating continued for several minutes, though his captor was careful not to break any more bones. Eventually, one blow missed its intended target and slammed into his head, dropping Tony into blissful unconsciousness.
* * *
Control glanced around the hallway as he slipped the key into the lock. The building certainly didn't look like it contained a safe house, which he supposed was the point of putting it there in the first place. But since the key that Philip had given him fit the lock perfectly, he gathered that it was indeed the safe house he had spoken about.
He opened the door quietly and stepped inside, closing the door behind him as he looked around the room. The front room looked like any front room in any flat, and it only became evident that it wasn't just any ordinary flat when Control entered the bedroom.
There were all sorts of medical supplies against one wall that Control very fervently hoped that he wouldn't need, even though he had a sinking suspicion that he probably would. Though when he gave it a bit more thought, he wouldn't actually be upset at all at having to make use of the medical supplies if it meant that Tony was alive for him to use them on.
On the other side of the room from the medical supplies was the weaponry that Philip had promised him. There was a little of everything there, from normal pistols to at least two different sniper rifles to knives of all sizes to what looked like a crossbow. Control wasn't sure what sort of situation would call for a crossbow, but he supposed that whoever had supplied the safe house had simply been covering all of the bases.
There were various other things around the room, and a quick glance at the kitchen showed that there was enough food stockpiled to feed a small army for several weeks. Control nodded in satisfaction; all he would have to do was find Tony and bring him back to the safe house. They would be able to remain there safely for as long as it took for Tony to be able to travel.
All that was left for Control to do was to find him and rescue him.
* * *
The first thing Tony was aware of when he finally returned to consciousness was pain. It radiated through every part of his body, though the pain was especially strong in his head and his chest. He tried his best not to move, hoping that if there was anyone watching him they thought that he was still unconscious. He strained his ears, keeping his breathing shallow so as not to aggravate his cracked rib.
After a few moments of silence he finally decided that he had once again been left alone in his cell. He carefully blinked his eyes open, sighing when he realized that the blindfold was still covering his eyes. He shifted slightly on the floor to try to take the pressure off of his somewhat numb arm, wincing as a pins and needles feeling began shooting up from his wrist.
He jerked when he heard the chair scrape backwards on the floor. Apparently he wasn't quite as alone as he had thought.
"So, how are you enjoying your stay here, Murchison? Having fun yet?"
Tony raised his head, turning in the general direction of the voice even though he couldn't actually see the man who was speaking. "I must..." He coughed then, trying to clear his throat. "I must admit that I'm not exactly enjoying my stay here at all. The accommodations leave something to be desired, I'm afraid to say."
His head rocked back when a fist connected with his already sore jaw. "I hate to admit it, but I'm impressed with you, Murchison. I didn't think that you would still be capable of snark like that. Of course, I didn't know that you were ever capable of snark, so who knows if perhaps your captivity is having an effect on you, after all."
That statement had Tony somewhat confused. The man's voice wasn't familiar, so he had no idea where the man might have known him from, or even if he had known him at all. He supposed that he might have worked with one of the other rogue agents before, and they might have told this man what he was like.
Suddenly a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders, and Tony was manhandled until he was on his feet, teeth clenched at the increasing pain in his chest. Then he was forced down into the chair, the whole time still completely blind. A glass was pressed to his rather dry and cracked lips, and water was poured into his mouth. Unlike when the unnamed woman had aided him, the water was poured too fast for him to drink, causing it to spill down his chin.
He choked slightly on the liquid, the sudden coughing putting even more pressure on his sore ribs and burning his throat. He shook his head in an attempt to shake the water from his face, but strong fingers suddenly tightened in his hair, holding his head still. Then they yanked his head backwards, the angle straining his neck.
Even though he couldn't see, he could sense the other man's face mere inches from his own. "Stay still, Murchison. If you won't behave, steps will have to be taken."
The other man's voice was cold, but Tony could hear a hint of amused malice in it, making him shudder. The fingers were still tightly gripping his hair, keeping him from moving his head even a little bit, and that small loss of freedom made Tony's blood run cold.
"Now, are you going to be a good boy, Murchison, or am I going to have to teach you a lesson?"
Tony didn't say a word. He simply tried to relax his neck muscles in order to loosen a bit of the tension that resulted from having his head pulled so far back. It didn't really work all that well, but he figured that any lessening of pain would be a good thing. Then he shuddered as the fingers that had been gripping his hair began stroking through it instead. He was fairly certain that this new twist was simply an attempt to unnerve him, but that knowledge unfortunately in no way kept him from being unnerved as his captors wanted.
He was actually somewhat relieved when the hand finally left his hair and struck him across the mouth instead. The pain of a beating he was at least familiar with, and while he would certainly never choose it, he had to admit that it was better than what the fingers in his hair had intimated.
It was only a moment before he received a blow strong enough to fling him from the chair again and drop him to the floor. He didn't quite manage to twist properly this time and landed fairly hard on his bound wrists, though thankfully not quite hard enough to break any bones, though from the pain shooting up his arms it was a close thing indeed.
His captor managed to avoid striking his head this time, so Tony was forced to remain conscious during the entire beating. He gasped when he felt another rib snap, and from the sharp pain it was fairly obvious that this one wasn't merely cracked. Another kick caught his knee, and he could feel the joint wrench painfully.
An indeterminate amount of time later the beating finally stopped. Tony was curled up on the floor still trying to protect his ribs, a feat made more difficult since he couldn't use his arms as they were still cuffed behind his back. He flinched slightly when the other man spit at him, just barely managing to jerk his head out of the way.
He followed the sound of the other man's footsteps as he walked towards the door. The man paused when he reached it, and Tony could feel the weight of the other man's gaze as he stared back over his shoulder at him.
"Enjoy your reprieve while it lasts, Murchison. We've been lenient so far. It won't last for much longer."
Tony heard the door open and his captor walk through. Then it closed with a loud bang, leaving Tony all alone with only his thoughts and his pain for company.
* * *
Control was somewhat nervous as he sat in a corner of the small cafe. It had been some time since he was last out in the field, and he hated the fact that his return to fieldwork was brought about by Tony's going missing. Well, he would have hated the idea that Tony had gone missing no matter what, but he especially hated the fact that Tony's well-being depended on his somewhat rusty undercover skills.
He glanced casually around the cafe, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man he was looking for. Philip's information had stated that one of the men that they suspected of being involved with the ring of rogue agents that Tony had come to investigate often frequented this cafe, and Control was planning on having a stiff word with him should the other man show up.
Every few moments he would glance down at his wrist, where the bug detector disguised as a watch rested, but so far there was no electronic activity. The belt that Arthur had given him was safely around his waist, and the pen bomb was tucked in his shirt pocket where he could get to it quickly in the event of an emergency.
He absently took a sip of his coffee, grimacing once again at the taste. It wasn't nearly as good as Tony's coffee, but it was almost instinctive for him to take a drink if he had a coffee cup in front of him. He only ever realized what he was doing when the rather bitter taste exploded across his tongue.
Control was beginning to consider moving on to his next target when the man he had been waiting for finally entered the cafe, thankfully alone. He waited for the other man to take a seat, also over in a corner, then rose to his feet and made his way to the other man's table.
He sat down across from the suspected rogue agent, allowing his jacket to open just enough for the other man to see that he was armed. The other man's eyes widened slightly, and Control allowed himself to feel a hint of satisfaction. Perhaps he wasn't completely rusty at this, after all.
"What do you know about the British agent that was kidnapped? If you tell me everything you know, I shall be nice and let you go. Otherwise, I will be forced to become violent, something that I would rather not have to do."
The other man stammered for a moment, but apparently something in Control's eyes told him that he was serious. He glanced furtively around the cafe, then leaned forward and began to speak in a hushed tone of voice.
"I don't know much, and that's the truth. All I know is that a group of guys grabbed him at the airport and took him somewhere in the city. I got no idea who's behind the whole thing, only that this wasn't a mission approved by any of the Russian higher-ups. Whoever's doing this, it's personal."
Control's blood ran cold at that thought. He had assumed that Tony had been taken simply because he was a British agent, and the Soviets intended to interrogate him. The idea that someone had taken him instead simply because he was Tony Murchison was almost more than Control could bear.
"Do you know where he is?"
The other man shook his head. "All I know is that he's probably still alive. I got the idea that they wanted him to suffer before they finally killed him."
All that Control could hear for a long moment was his own blood roaring in his ears. His eyes went cold as he stared at the rogue agent in front of him. "You will leave here, you will not speak to anyone and you will not tell anyone that you have seen me, or I shall have to track you down and kill you."
The rogue agent hesitated for only a moment before he stiffly rose to his feet and left the cafe, glancing over his shoulder at Control the entire time. For his part, Control simply took a long sip of his rather bad coffee, and tried to decide who else on Philip's list might have the information he needed.
* * *
Philip sat on a bench in one of Berlin's small parks, trying to decide what to do with the information he had just been given. One of his most trusted agents had finally returned from an intelligence gathering mission, and had told Philip the one thing that he had not been prepared to hear. He now knew the identity of the man who was ultimately behind Tony Murchison's abduction. He knew why the whole sorry incident had come about.
The only question now was how he was going to tell Control.
Part Three