November

November 18: Friday

Ortega's date was set for the 3rd of December. Vichy's was in January. Sloane made them all cookies to celebrate, and James and Clint dropped by again, in the afternoon. James, once again, brought Torréon; Clint had a gift. He had introduced the fact, almost shyly, and Jesse hadn't missed the flinch or quick intake of breath when he moved his hands suddenly to thrust it toward Sloane. Sloane peered at it for a moment as if he suspected it might bite him.
"Open it."
Sloane glanced up at Clint, then back down at the box in his hands. Clint seemed excited. It occurred, sickeningly, to Sloane that maybe this was just something to embarrass him in front of the group.
"Maybe I can open it later, when it's just us."
Clint looked annoyed.
"Open it, Sloane. Don't be so fucking difficult."
Out of the corner of his eye, Sloane saw Jesse tense and Suleiman shift both feet to the ground.
"OK, OK."
His fingers were twitching a little bit as he tried to open the paper; he was worried that Clint would accuse him of wasting it, but he didn't seem to care when he gave up and just tore into it.
Inside was a plain white box. He lifted the lid. Inside were three purple shells, tied together with what appeared to be fishing string. Sloane didn't understand.
"What is it?"
Clint sighed impatiently and picked it up from the box, holding it up for Sloane's inspection.
"It's a necklace."
"Oh. It's very nice." Sloane offered quickly. Clint frowned a little.
"The shells - I had them. Do you know them? They're from the beach we went to in the summertime. Do you remember that trip?"
Sloane tilted his head.
"I remember the beach..."
Clint exhaled annoyedly.
"Yeah, well. The beach was cold as fuck, even though it was July already. It sucked. But the trip was alright."
He set the necklace down in Sloane's right hand.
"The whole time we were at the beach, we never had a fight."

~:~

Havar had been missing for four days now, and Anton Yavisk wanted him back. On base, the commander was fuming. He'd been kept informed of the developments in the hunt for Havar, but his requests for control of the program had been denied. The authorities were worried about his decision-making right now; Yavisk was infuriated, and fury made him a liability. He'd broken two privates' jaws since Monday, and had been taken off training until further notice. Now, in his room, he was pacing and cursing in his mother's language.

Across from him, in the large, dark wing chair by the window, his closest friend and confidant, Miljan Cubrovic, sat and steepled his hands. Miljan was a man of whom many men were afraid. His imposing build, coupled with the inscrutable stoicism of his expression and the peculiar, accented, calm way that he spoke, gave him a formidable appearance. He lifted his glass of dark wine and settled into the heavy leather chair as if it had been built for him.
"Easy, prijatelj. He'll be found and returned to you shortly. The Institute is very interested in your little bride, and how he's managed to get away. There are a thousand men after him. They will find him. There is no need for worry."
"The bodies in the mountain were a clue, I know it, Miljan. They're not far from here, I sense it. If we searched for them, we could find them."
Miljan stared out of the window, then took another sip from his glass.
"You do not trust your people to find him?"
Miljan laid an extra emphasis on the question, and Anton bristled.
"Don't start that with me tonight, prijatelj." he spoke the last word with some annoyance. "I trust them with my life, but...I believe a private operation would be better suited to this task."
Miljan inclined his head and finished his wine.
"Then I suppose we ought to organize a hunting party."

~:~

Brian had pulled the truck off into the woods a few hours back and given it a hasty paint-job, and now they went on, driving along the backroads through the mountains, heading directly towards Institute territory, preparing to turn south with the setting sun. They'd stopped, more carefully this time, at another trading post and stocked up on gas. The nights were getting cold, and Havar pulled his hat down around his ears. The truck rumbled on.
"I think we should steer south before we get close; less risk than going south after."
Havar nodded and nestled down in the truck.

~:~

Miljan had a team of twenty, himself and Anton included, assembled just after nightfall. They wore black mission suits, mask and gloves included; Miljan had demanded this. He was trained in reconnaissance. They took four large black jeeps; two with separated drivers' seats and suicide doors, opening the back to three seats facing each other on either side. One vehicle was intended for Miljan's possession, the other for Anton's. When Anton opened the rear door of Miljan's vehicle to drop equipment, he was startled to see a slim, dark-haired carrier in a natori there. The carrier shrank back from him. Miljan arrived behind him.
"Who is this?"
Miljan checked his handgun, glanced over at the carrier.
"This is Awni-Ra. He's Havar's peer group leader, and John Killian's fiancée." Anton frowned.
"So what's he doing in the jeep?"
Miljan holstered his gun.
"He's here to help ensure us that your little bride behaves."

~:~

Brian banked the truck right, pulling off into an access road as headlights appeared in the distance.
"Fuck!"
Havar shook his head and sat up.
"It wasn't anything, Brian. Just somebody passing." Brian sighed, tried to pull himself together.
"I don't know if we should get back on the major road, even at night."
Havar thought a long time.
"We need to get some distance. We need to make up the time we lost back there. If we don't take the main roads, we'll waste gas and time and end up getting caught."
Brian thought this over for a minute, set his jaw, and turned back on to the road.

~:~

They checked the compound first; working concentrically, one hundred yards apart, scanning the area first with infrared, then going by foot to points of interest.
The compound and Centre campus were cleared by ten, and they reconvened at the eastern gates for the second part of the plan. Miljan met in the jeep with Anton.
"If the bodies on the mountain are related to them, then they have gone east and are at the shore by now. Anton, you trained both of them. Where did they go?"
Anton was poring over a map laid out on the seat beside him.
"Inderson is an honor-seeker; he bites at the bit to prove his worth. He would have taken the wheel so Havar could hide if he needed to. Brian driving...he would have ventured south. He's fearful, would have taken a winding path of which he was sure before an unsecure, faster way. Inderson's family is from Louisa. No doubt he headed there, then veered for the coast."
Miljan nodded.
"And Havar would not have protested?"
"He is slow to summon courage; he would not have disaccorded until late, perhaps after they were already at the shore."
"The bodies in the mountains were not far from here; you think they travel slowly?"
Anton shrugged.
"Staying to back roads may slow them down. Inderson doesn't see well, can't quickly judge an attack at a distance. He would have kept to smaller spaces."
"And your pet?"
"Operates well in any conditions. His strength is quick strategy."
Miljan considered this.
"Would he have made a change in plans?"
Anton turned back to the map quickly.
"If they had trouble in the mountains, he may have insisted on another route. Abandoned trying to reach the coast." Anton folded up the map suddenly.
"He has to know that the Centre is looking for him. He is headed towards us now. I believe he intends to cross our path."

~:~

"How did they know what I was?"
Brian glanced over at Havar.
"The beard. You don't have one."
Brian rubbed his own face where he was unshaven.
"They were suspicious of me at first. I told them I'd had lice."
Havar was silent, staring out of the window.
"Hey." Havar didn't look up. Brian tried again. "Hey, listen, it's going to be OK."
Havar shrugged. Both of them glanced up as headlights appeared on the road. Brian tensed. Havar shook his head.
"It's nothing, Brian. Just someone passing." Brian relaxed. The vehicle passed them going the opposite direction. Then, just past them, it slowed.
"Shit!"
Brian slammed his foot into the accelerator, gassed it up the road. Havar was turned around in his seat, checking to see if the vehicle was following them. It seemed to have gone on its way. Brian was breathing hard beside him.
"We gotta get off this road. We gotta go."
"That's fine," Havar said calmly, "But we can't hit the access road now, if we've really been seen. It's too obvious. Keep going this way. We're close to the Bridge now, we can pull off around there and rethink."
Brian nodded, tried to calm his breathing, relax.
"We need to lie low; we can think about getting out of the country when things have quieted. We need a place to hide out."
Havar thought for a minute.
"The old water processing house at the Cove. There's an underground partition, no longer in use. Kyle and I used to store shipments inside; it should be safe enough to keep us for now."
Brian shook his head.
"No! Thats close, way close, way too close, Granger!"
"Calm down, Inderson! Get it together! Closer is better at this stage of the search! By now, they probably think we've made it to the coast; they'll be intensifying security around water travel and air space. They've searched their own space a thousand times over, and they won't be able to use machinery to look for us under the water. They'd have to go in by foot and we'd have warning, and can prepare. It's a good hideout. Get us there, now."

~:~

"We have a partial visual on a flat black truck, two agitated occupants. You think it's them, Anton?"
Yavisk felt his heart soar.
"I know it is. Where are they going?"
John Killian handed the comm over to one of the lieutenants in the back.
"Nowhere, right now. Stopped along the Rockbridge. I think they're stationary for now, sir."
Anton hung up and got on with Miljan.
"Miljan, if they see them, then we have them. They're stopped. Let's go."
"No, brother, wait. They won't stop where they are for long; they are replanning; making decisions. Wait, and see where they go. We may have more to gain from this than just your little carrier."
The lieutenant's voice came through the dashboard again, worried.
"Sir? They're turning off now. If we continue to pursue, we'll reveal ourselves."
Anton swore.
"That's fine, lieutenant. Take note of their direction and meet us at the railroad crossing."

~:~

They reached the Cove road a little before midnight.
"Where to?"
Havar directed him out, into the grass, across the field in the darkness towards the forest edge.
"Pull off there, into the woods. We'll walk back to the entrance."
They parked in an overgrown gully, covering up the truck with as many branches and heavy vines as they could possibly find before climbing out to head towards the underground.
On the hill, Havar slipped, but Brian caught him by the hand and pulled him out of the ditch. At the top of the hill, Havar tried to take his hand back, but Brian didn't let go. They started out across the field.

~:~

At 12:07, the train passed noisily by the Cove. The clearing around the lake, normally pristine and so silent, was upended for several minutes every night as the heavy black steam machine pounded through the space, a wide indigo line, bisecting the field and splitting Havar's ears with its sound. He wrested his hand free of Brian's grip and covered his ears. Brian looked at him and laughed a little, the first relaxed sound he'd made since their trip had begun. The train passed and Brian reached out to rejoin their hands as the tail end of it whisked past and revealed, on the other side of the tracks, four black jeeps sitting in a perfect line. The first revved its engine; all four flicked on their lights.
"Brian, run."
They headed for the entrance at a dead run, Havar leading the way.
"Brian, run, keep running! The door is there, hit it on the left and it will crack just enough to get yourself inside. Close it, turn your flashlight on, go get in the labyrinth, and hide!"
Havar was just about to turn back and lead them off when two jeeps accelerated past them. The door was coming closer. Then both jeeps turned, cut in front of them, and braked, blocking their path. They split to either side, but the third pulled up by Havar and four men jumped out and suddenly he was face down in the grass and felt the snick-slap of handcuffs going on and everyone around him was shouting. He lifted his head. Brian was still running, almost at the door, but eight men were behind him, in close pursuit.
"Brian!"
"Turn him."
The hands were flipping him over and he leaned on his elbow in the grass and looked up into the stony eyes of Anton Yavisk.
"Are you alright, Havar?"
All the memories came flooding back to him, and suddenly it seemed all so desperately, stupidly hopeless. He managed a nod.
"Release him. I have him."
Yavisk came over, put one booted foot on his neck and held him in place on the grass. The four men scooted away, off to join the chase. Distantly, Havar heard the thud of bodies hitting the ground, triumphant calls and the sounds of a struggle. He dropped his head back against the grass.
"We have him, sir!" A lieutenant came running over, eager. Yavisk growled at Havar, lifted him bodily from the ground, and threw him in the backseat of the jeep, slamming the doors behind him.
"Guard him."
The lieutenant looked miserable at this.
"But, sir, the traitor - "
Yavisk took one look at the man's puppy dog face and laughed.
"Fine. If you want to get a few licks in, cuff Havar to the car and get a move on."
Before Havar had even had time to process the fact that Awni-Ra was in the car with him, he was cuffed to the raised u-loops in the floor which were, he suspected, designed specifically for this purpose. The door slammed again and the two were gone; he was alone with Awni-Ra, who was staring out the window with a trouble, sorrowful look on his face.
"Why are you here?" Havar asked, peering at his cuffs to try to determine any weakness.
"They - they made me come. I don't know why." he seemed to be trembling a little, and he kept dividing his time between looking out the window and checking on Havar.
"What are you looking for?"
"I want to know when they're coming back. So I can prepare."
Havar looked up at him, puzzled, but Awni was still staring out the window and didn't notice.
"They're going to kill him. Oh, god, they're going to kill him." Havar felt panic well up in his veins.
"No...no, he's subdued, they'll take him in for questioning. He might be beat up, but he'll be OK. And once he's in a location, I can rescue him just like he rescued me."
Awni laughed, a tinny, mirthless sound.
"Your friend is dead already. It's us I'm worried about now."
Awni fidgeted with his hands, nervousness covering him like a blanket, making his face look drawn and sallow. Havar watched him for a moment, waiting for the beauty he'd seen before to come back. It didn't. Havar swallowed.
"What's going to happen to us?"
Awni didn't have to answer, because in that moment, he spotted four figures running towards the jeep.
"Your husband is back."
Then the doors to the jeep were thrown open and Yavisk loomed, panting, in the doorway.
"Did you fuck him??" His chin had an angry set and he was shouting, red-faced and disheveled, his fury in his face, in his eyes, in the clench of his hands at his sides.
Awni shrank back fearfully, made himself into a small knot in the corner. Havar didn't know what to say, or do.
"DID YOU FUCK HIM??"
Yavisk was in his face now, and he pulled back as far as being cuffed to the floor would allow.
"No! No! I didn't! I swear, I didn't!"
He took a powerful backhand to the face.
"You're lying! You're fucking lying to me!"
Havar shook his head.
"No! No, I swear to you! Brian's just my friend, I didn't fuck him!"
Yavisk gave a beastly, low, short little laugh.
"Was your friend."
Then he released Havar from the floor and Awni cast a glance at the door, thinking maybe of bolting to another car, but Yavisk saw it out of the corner of his eye.
"Don't you move, either. You've got something coming to you."
Awni froze in place and Yavisk yanked Havar up, off the floor, and pushed him against the seat of the car. Havar started kicking immediately, and Yavisk cracked his face with another hit.
"Hey! You - hey! You keep fighting, and I'll knock you out, fuck you in the field, and let them all watch."
Havar panted from exertion; his eyes flicked worriedly to Awni-ra, who was pale and didn't meet his gaze.
"Awni can't help you. Spread your legs."
Havar stared at him, shook his head in disbelief.
"SPREAD YOUR LEGS AND FUCK ME LIKE YOU FUCKED HIM!"
Yavisk's lip was swollen where he'd caught one of Havar's knees, and his hands were red with blood that was neither of their own.
"No..."
Yavisk cocked his head.
"No?" he picked up a pair of binoculars from the ground and swung them across Havar's face. Awni and Havar cried out in unison and the world spun. By the time it slowed to a tilt, Yavisk had Havar's pants halfway off, pushed down to his knees, trapping his ankles, and was unbuckling his own. Awni was curled up in his seat, eyes firmly closed against the scene.
"You! Don't you fucking close your eyes on him." Awni opened them, his expression laced with terror. "You watch, so you remember, too, what fucking happens when you run away."
John Killian appeared then, a foot from the doorway, and for a second, Awni looked relieved to see him before recognizing the bloodlust insanity in his fiancé's eyes. John's voice was deceptively smooth.
"Come here, Awni."
Then Yavisk freed his cock, which was already hard and leaking,
and slammed himself, one thrust, into Havar. Yavisk groaned luxuriously. Havar didn't bother trying not to cry out. It hurt, worse than the first time, because this time, Yavisk meant to hurt, wanted to savor Havar's pain.
"Aw-ni-ra. Come over here." Killian's voice was singsong. Awni, trembling, looked quietly one more time at Havar and Yavisk, now bonded together as one heaving, groaning mass, then got out of the car. A crowd was gathering outside, a few looking in to the car where Yavisk and Havar were, a few others laughing to the side. Killian pulled Awni into his arms, running his hands over the slim shoulders, skimming down to the hips hidden under his natori.
"Oh, you're beautiful, baby."
Awni didn't respond.
"Why don't we show them what you can do? All these men, so jealous of me?"
Awni shook his head furiously.
"Aw, why not, baby? Come on. It'll be fun."


Yavisk pounded him hard and fast, swearing at him and cursing his name in English and Spanish and broken Russian. Wedged sideways on the seat, Havar's head hit the window on every thrust. Outside, he could see some of the men beginning to gather, staring in through the open doorway, rubbing their hard cocks. He tried to wriggle down, to hide his face behind Yavisk. The action succeeded only in encouraging him to thrust harder, and Havar felt his eyes water as his head hit the window harder. Knowing better than to shut his eyes, he instead focused on the open neck of Yavisk's uniform, listened to the laughter and sounds of movement outside, and prayed for it all to be done. Yavisk jerked and spurted inside of him, then pulled off immediately and, sitting back in the seat, exhaled and laughed, patting Havar's exposed thigh gently.
"I am glad to have you back, Havar."
Havar shook his head, tried to shy backwards. Yavisk pulled him up, punched him in the kidney, and threw him forward onto the floor of the car.
"Get between my knees."
Havar paused, confused, and Yavisk yanked him into place such that he was kneeling on the floor between Yavisk's legs.
"Sit."
Yavisk pushed him backwards; with his hands cuffed, he couldn't catch himself, and he stumbled and landed on his ass. The quick movement made him realize that his thighs felt sticky with Yavisk's cum, and he hurt very badly.
"This is your place now, when we ride in the car."
Havar stared up at him, disbelief mixing with hatred in his eyes.
"Don't look at me like that, Havar. I give you only the punishment which you demand."


John Killian rode in the car with them on the way back, and after taking interest at Havar's position, he forced Awni onto his knees to suck his cock as they rode.
Havar didn't look, tried to turn away, but Yavisk grabbed his chin and forced him to look.
"Watch how he does it. You'll be learning his skill soon."
Havar shook his head, tried to look away. John Killian reached down and slapped him.
"Obey your husband."
Awni didn't even look up, just kept sucking John's dick undisturbed as if nothing had ever happened, and Havar was treated to a front-row view of John pulling out to orgasm, cumming halfway in Awni's mouth, but mostly over his face. Awni didn't flinch, accepted it stoically, and didn't even resist when John laughed and turned him around to show it off before picking him up from the floor and handing him a hankerchief. Awni was silent for the rest of the ride back to Anton Yavisk's winter home. Havar rested his cheek against Anton Yavisk's thigh and tried not to think about Brian.

Before dawn, they hung his body up in the main courtyard of the base with a handpainted sign saying We Caught the Traitor.