shoulder. Shawn looked at the younger man and shook his head, smiling slightly.
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“So… you think… knew… turned?” Gray asked in a low voice. Shawn
turned to look at Gray and leaned forward, cocking his head to the side.
“What?”
“So you think Thierry knew that Remy had turned?” Gray asked in a loud,
deliberate voice.
“I don’t know,” Shawn sighed in frustration. “Fuck, I’m confused. I’d love
to get my hands on St. John and squeeze some information out of him. What did you two uncover while you were digging?”
“We were looking more for agent locations and specialties, to be honest,”
Remy said as Gray opened and closed his mouth quickly.
“Gray?” Shawn growled, ignoring Remy’s tense posture.
“That’s all we were doing. That’s when I found your designator,” Gray said
with a nod at Shawn.
Shawn narrowed his eyes at the other man, feeling like he was missing
something but not certain how to go about extracting it.
“Wait, wait,” Nikolaus said from the top bunk where he had remained silent
the entire time. “So, since I was… working for the wrong side, apparently, do you think all my information was tainted?”
“Probably,” they all answered in a chorus.
“Goddammit. Okay… we agree that we’re all here for a reason, the group
wasn’t put together randomly. What else do the seven of us have in common?” he
asked as he hung upside down and looked at Shawn, Remy, and Brandt before
disappearing again. “Or the six of us, rather. We all had some type of insider
information, just like Remy said. We were all a threat to the security of the
Underground. But what else?” There was a silence in which Nikolaus gave them a
chance to answer, and when they all simply sat and stared at one another he sighed and said, “We had all worked with that list of agents we pulled up, remember?”
“Shit, man, I’d forgotten about that,” Remy murmured.
“Wait, what list?” Gray asked.
“We had a list of eleven agents,” Thiago explained. “All of whom had
worked with agents we had freed in the past year. All six of us were on it, as were you.”
“Who else, anyone remember?” Shawn asked, not in the least ashamed to
admit that he didn’t.
“John,” Remy said almost immediately as he held up his thumb to count.
“Evan Washburn. Fletcher Barclay. Lydia Ashton. John and Evan, I can report, are
not, in fact, dead as was reported. John’s… what side is he on anyway?”
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“John’s on his own side,” Shawn muttered. “What was the point?”
“Uhh,” Thiago and Remy responded, and the others shrugged or sighed.
“We’d all worked with them at one point or another, yeah?” Nikolaus asked
as he hung over the edge again.
“Yeah?” Remy and Shawn echoed.
“Well, is that normal? For you black ops types to work with… what did you
call it? Clean agents?”
“Yes, it is,” Remy answered.
“We’re all under the same umbrella,” Shawn explained as his hearing faded
in and out. “The only agents who are part of the Underground are Ones and to a lesser extent, Fours. The rest service both sides without ever really knowing it.”
“Oh,” Nikolaus said in a disappointed voice.
“And I have to say, Carl,” Remy said after another brief silence, “while the
hangings aren’t exactly ‘public,’ they do get a lot of publicity.”
“Wait. Jesus Christ, that’s really true?” Thiago asked in horror.
Shawn smiled grimly at him.
“They don’t tolerate fuck-ups, Thi,” Remy said in a cold, hard voice. “Have
you ever seen a hanging?”
“No,” Thiago said in a small voice.
“Pray that you don’t. If they catch you, it’ll be your own.”
Shawn gritted his teeth and watched Thiago shift uncomfortably. “You never
really knew what you were getting into, did you?” he asked softly.
“I never wanted to get into it to begin with,” Thiago asserted almost angrily.
“I was elected,” he added, spitting out the last word in disgust.
“That would explain your complete ineptitude,” Remy said bitterly.
“Bite me, Remy,” Thiago spat.
“I throw you to the gators, let them do it for me!” Remy shot back.
Thiago growled and Gray snickered as he turned to try to hide his smile.
Shawn smacked Remy on the thigh and glared at him.
“So where does all this leave us?” Carl finally asked after a moment of
uncomfortable silence.
“Hungry,” Brandt grunted.
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NIKOLAUS wasn’t feeling very hungry. He felt quite sick, actually. It was bad
enough he’d been informing on them all along, but now Carl asserted he’d been
informing to the wrong side. Maybe they were taking the hanging comment too
literally? But Remy and Shawn confirmed the practice. Nikolaus felt sick, indeed.
“C’mon Niko, we’ll get you some food,” Remy said softly as he stood up
and peered over the top bunk at Nikolaus.
Brandt and Carl had already exited, and Shawn was standing in the open
doorway waiting for Remy to join him. Gray and Thiago sat on the lower bunk
speaking softly, claiming that they weren’t hungry.
“No, thanks,” Nikolaus responded despondently.
Remy raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to protest, but Shawn
called softly to him. “Let him be, lad,” he ordered gently. “Come on.”
Remy looked over his shoulder, then back at Nikolaus and nodded. “Want
me to bring you something?” he asked hopefully.
“No, thanks,” Nikolaus repeated as he forced a smile.
Remy nodded again and turned to go, closing the door behind him as he
went. Nikolaus knew it was coming, and so he simply closed his eyes and waited until Thiago finally cleared his throat and stood.
Nikolaus looked at him steadily as Thiago rested his forearms on the top
bunk and leaned his chin on them, his blue eyes boring into Nikolaus in silent
contemplation. Gray stood as well and began to pace the short length of the
compartment restlessly. This, more than anything, made Nikolaus nervous. If Gray
was uncomfortable even though he and Thiago obviously shared something, then
Nikolaus probably should be as well.
“You fucked up,” Thiago said conversationally.
Nikolaus frowned and nodded.
Thiago’s eyes softened and he grinned a little. “Next time you’re supposed to
be snitching on someone, make sure you don’t start fucking them, too,” he said with a wink.
Nikolaus’s jaw dropped and he stared at Thiago in disbelief. Was that all the
reprimand he was going to get? Remy almost was killed for what he did, and
Nikolaus’s actions were far worse. He’d almost gotten them all killed.
“Oh that’s fucking great, Thi,” Gray hissed. “Let him off with a wink and
grin so he’ll be more confident about the backstabbing next time around.”
“Gray, cierre su trucho,” Thiago muttered in a tired voice.
“Fuck you, Thiago,” Gray snarled as Thiago turned around to face him.
“Fuck. You. You can include yoursel
f in that invite too there, sport,” he told Nikolaus angrily before turning to reach for the door handle.
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The action was so sudden that Nikolaus blinked and almost missed it. Thiago
reached out and grabbed Gray by the elbow, pulling him backward and throwing him
onto the lower bunk with an angry growl. Nikolaus lunged forward and swung down
onto the floor in time to see
Thiago straddle the stunned man. He took Gray’s collar into his hand and
lifted his head and shoulders off the mattress as he reared back for a swing.
Gray did nothing to defend himself, he didn’t even bring up his hands to try
and block the blow. Nikolaus cried out wordlessly and reached out to grab Thiago’s hand as he pulled back for the punch.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Nikolaus hissed as he fought with
Thiago for possession of Thiago’s arm. Thiago yanked and pulled Nikolaus onto the mattress with them, eliciting a series of gasps and muffled curses from all three men.
“Let me the fuck go,” Thiago growled as he shook Nikolaus off and turned
to glare at Gray dangerously. Nikolaus wrapped his arms around Thiago’s shoulders and pulled back until he landed at the end of the bunk with Thiago struggling in his lap.
Gray scooted away from them until he leaned against the other wall of the
bunk and glared daggers at them both. “Jesus. You never used to be this fucking
violent,” he muttered as he kicked Thiago in the thigh for good measure.
“Forrito,” Thiago growled as he continued to struggle with Nikolaus. “Let
me go, Niko!”
“You’ve completely lost it!” Gray practically shouted.
“Boludo!”
“Psychopath!”
“Puto!”
“What?” Gray asked in a shocked voice. He appeared to have understood the
curse and was almost amused, but there was a wary flicker of his eyes toward
Nikolaus that told Nikolaus the other man was still hiding things.
“I called you a slut,” Thiago hissed pointedly. “You don’t think I know what
went on?” he asked heatedly as he suddenly stopped struggling and went
frighteningly still. “I don’t care that you fuck whatever moves, hijo, but I wish you’d at least have the decency to admit to it. I know Remy well enough to know what
happened!”
“Thi–”
“Do you love him?” Thiago demanded.
Gray paled visibly and Nikolaus suddenly forgot how to breathe as he held
onto Thiago. “We… I… no,” Gray stuttered in shock.
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Thiago snarled as he finally wrenched away from Nikolaus and struggled to
his feet. Nikolaus and Gray remained on the bunk, carefully avoiding looking at one another or directly at Thiago.
“Thi, we never… I don’t deny fucking him, man, but we aren’t… in love,”
Gray insisted quietly.
“For a Class One agent you’re a shit liar, you know that?” Thiago said
quietly. He bent over and put his face right in front of Gray’s. “Be honest with me, Gray. This is your last chance,” he whispered.
Gray sighed and glanced at Nikolaus, but he neither flinched nor stuttered
when he looked Thiago in the eye and said, “I don’t love him.”
Nikolaus snorted in a derogatory manner, and Thiago’s jaw clenched angrily.
“Why do I not believe you?” Thiago posed in a flat whisper.
“I think he’s telling the truth, Thi,” Nikolaus ventured. As much as he
disliked Gray at the moment, he couldn’t help but want to defend him. “Remy
wouldn’t–”
“That’s fine,” Thiago said quietly as he stood up and backed toward the
door. Gray struggled to his feet and reached out to grab the other man, but Thiago wrenched away and nodded. “I’m sorry. It’s not like I’ve been faithful. I thought there was something… I was mistaken,” he said in the same soft whisper. “Lo siento.”
“Thi,” Gray sighed as he reached out again and tugged at Thiago’s hand.
“What were you two discussing in Sydney?” Thiago asked hoarsely as he
allowed himself to be carefully hugged.
“How did you know about that?” Nikolaus asked, so shocked by the fact that
he didn’t even register the sudden change of subject. “Did Remy tell you?” he
demanded as he sat forward.
“No, Niko, I actually do this sort of thing for a living,” Thiago mumbled as
Gray backed away from him. Thiago looked at Gray and narrowed his eyes. “You
didn’t have your stories straight. Niko said he checked on Remy, but you told me no one had been there.”
“Yeah,” Gray said somberly. “Faust came in to check on Remy, and I told
him I knew what he was doing. I didn’t,” he said quickly before Thiago could yell again. “I wanted to see if I could smoke him out before I was executed, give myself a bargaining chip,” he explained wryly.
Nikolaus shrugged. “I thought I was on the right side,” he said defensively.
“You got good men killed because you were naïve,” Gray growled as he
stepped away from Thiago and toward Nikolaus.
Nikolaus paled and lowered his eyes. “I know,” he said in a small voice.
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LIV.
“SO….”
Brandt shifted in his corner of the little booth in the dining car of the train
and looked at Remy curiously. “So?” he repeated questioningly.
“So what do we do now?” Remy asked in a soft voice. He sat beside Brandt,
his hands twisting the paper napkin from around his silverware and his eyes darting back and forth between Shawn, Carl, and the server. Every now and then, he would
glance at the door to the dining car as if he expected a dozen ninjas to jump through it at any second.
Brandt wouldn’t have been surprised to see ninjas at this point, complete
with black pajamas and plastic nunchucks.
“Well, which catastrophe, monstrous lie, or betrayal do you want to address
first?” Brandt asked wryly when he saw that neither of the other two was going to answer.
“I don’t think we should address any of it,” Remy snapped. “I don’t give a
fuck what happened before or who was–” Remy abruptly cut off his words when the
server walked by and gave him an appraising look. He smiled gamely at her and
watched her swaying hips from over his shoulder as she strode away. He then turned back around, leaning in closer and whispering harshly, “I don’t care who was into what, or who was fucking who before this whole fiasco started. I don’t care that Carl was sticking it to St. John every chance he got, or that Niko was the one almost got us killed, or that Shawn has been lying to me at every turn from day fucking one. I just care about getting the fuck out of this shit and living through it.”
“What?” Shawn hissed as he leaned forward and cocked his head a little to
the side.
Remy glared at him briefly, but then his face softened and he sighed. “Still
can’t hear anything, can you?” he asked regretfully.
“I can hear until you start whispering,” Shawn said defensively. “Then you
just hiss like a snake and it all blends into one long Remybabble.”
Carl reached over and patted Shawn’s hand sympathetically and Shawn
swatted him away with a growl. Carl snarled at the man and threw his napkin at him.
Brandt watched the interaction sadly. The group was falling apart. They’d never been extremely cohesive
for any long period of time, now that Brandt thought back on it, but now they were really fucked.
“Remybabble?” Remy repeated questioningly.
“What?” Shawn asked as he leaned forward further.
The server came back carrying their food, and Remy and Shawn both leaned
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back to allow her to place it on the table between them. Her gaze lingered on Remy and she gave him a shy smile.
He returned it half-heartedly and nodded. “Thank you,” he said softly.
They watched the woman walk slowly away, then leaned in once more to
continue their whispered conversation. “I just want to know what we plan to do now,”
Remy hissed. “Do we turn around and try to fight, or do we keep running, forever
looking over our shoulders?” he asked bitterly.
“What?” Shawn demanded in frustration.
“Va-t'à la merde, Shawn, I taught you how to read lips. Were you not paying attention?” Remy asked with a flop of his hands onto the table that sent his fork flying through the air and onto the floor beside them. “Merde.”
“No, I wasn’t paying attention,” Shawn growled as he watched Remy lean
out to retrieve the utensil. “I never pay attention to you, because you babble and ramble and throw shit, and you give me a fucking headache!” he whispered heatedly as the server hurried over to help Remy with his fork.
“Thank you, mon cher,” Remy said in his soft, sexy Cajun accent, and she
smiled winningly at him and murmured something Brandt couldn’t hear. Remy shook
his head in response and she smiled and walked away once more, even slower this
time. Remy winced as he sat back up. “Good then, bastard!” he spat at Shawn angrily, his accent deepening further as his emotions took hold. “So stop saying ‘what’ and just sit there and not listen to me like you always do. Fucking… fuck!”
Brandt looked at Carl, and they raised their eyebrows in alarm. It was
difficult to tell whether one of Shawn and Remy’s fights would end up requiring
weaponry or lubricant. Or both. It was usually both.
Shawn sat back and stared at Remy blankly, and Remy shifted and glanced
at Brandt and Carl before thumping his fork down on the table and reaching for his hamburger. The server came back by with an empty tray and glanced over her