Assignment - Part 8:
Waves
Brian walked into the familiar CIA building and made his way up to the second floor. He got a call earlier this morning telling him to come in. But that wasn’t what had surprised him that early in the morning.
What took him by surprise was the fact that he was alone in his bed when he woke up. He knew that if Justin got called in, he would have known about it. That fact had only deepened Brian’s confusion as to why his lover was absent from the large bed and the loft that morning.
Not having too much time to dwell on it, Brian took a quick shower and got dressed, then drove to work quickly through the streets that had just now begun filling with cars and people rushing to work.
Brian walked into the debriefing room. It looked like everybody else was already there, including the young blond man that refused to even look at Brian.
Casting one last glance at Justin, Brian pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the new information.
It was going to be a two-men mission with Justin on point and Brian being his back up. The mission involved Justin going in as a St. Petersburg State University student. His assignment was to get inside the building’s basement where, as intel indicated, Kissilyev was storing a new weapon that he had been developing along with a computer containing the information on where and who in present time owned nuclear weapons. Justin had to get in, make a copy of the database and take photographs of the weapon that the terrorist had been developing.
Since the lab was in the basement of the University, setting up an explosive inside it would risk young students and professors’ lives. That was where Brian came in. He had to manually overwrite the system in the University, setting off a fire alarm to get everybody out of the building.
“You’ll have two minutes to get out of there after setting up the explosives,” Lindsay said, turning to Justin.
The blond nodded.
“Ok,” Lindsay said, getting up from her chair. “The plane leaves in an hour.”
Brian watched as one by one everybody piled out of the room, Justin among them. It did not escape Brian’s attention that the other man purposely avoided even glancing in his general direction.
Wondering what the hell was up with the younger man, Brian went through the motions of getting all the necessary equipment for the mission. He then headed to the locker room to get changed. Walking through the door, Brian paused briefly when his gaze fell on Justin’s smaller frame, the blond pulling a black turtleneck over his head.
Justin tugged on the sweater and then turned, his eyes lingering on Brian’s just for a moment before looking away.
“Ready for the mission?” Brian asked as he crossed the room and opened his locker.
“Yes,” Justin responded.
Brian stopped and looked over at Justin, narrowing his eyes. Something was definitely off. What it was, however, the brunet could not figure out. “You ok?”
Justin, who was in the process of putting his boots on, did not as much as look up at him. “Fine.”
Yes, definitely something was off. While most CIA agents were taught that silence was usually golden, it was rare to get only a couple of words out of Justin when the blond opened his mouth – unless that mouth was sucking on Brian’s dick at the time.
It appeared that something had been bothering the young agent. And Brian now had a sneaking suspicion as to what that something was.
“You must have left rather early this morning,” he said as casually as possible while taking off his shirt and putting on a different one – more comfortable for the mission.
He glanced over his shoulder, noting the expression on his lover’s face – the one of being caught.
Justin straightened up, his shoulders stiffening. “Yeah. Couldn’t sleep.”
“You should have woken me up. I’m sure I could have done something about that.” Brian smirked as he moved closer to the other man.
He heard Justin’s sharp intake of air as the blond slowly raised his head to meet Brian’s gaze.
“I…” He cleared his throat. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Justin finally said, taking a step backwards.
“You thought it was a good idea last night,” Brian pointed out; unsure of why exactly he was getting angry.
“Well, things change,” Justin replied, taking a couple more steps away from Brian.
“Is that right,” Brian sneered.
“Yes,” Justin said, sounding less than sure about it. “I don’t think we should do this anymore.”
Bingo. He was right. “And what exactly are we doing?”
The blond looked away. “You know.”
Brian took one step closer. “I think I need you to tell me,” he said, his voice dropping.
Justin breathed in, shifting his gaze to meet Brian’s. “Look, we both know that this is not what either of us is looking for. Especially in this line of work. You can’t be vulnerable, you can’t get attached.”
“Is that what you think we’re doing?” Brian moved closer yet, now standing mere inches away from the other man, gazing down into the pair of blue eyes.
“Yes,” Justin responded, his voice but a whisper.
“Hmmm.” Brian chuckled as he walked back over to his locker. “And here I thought we were just fucking.”
He winced inwardly at the hurt look on Justin’s face. Hurting him was not Brian’s intention. At least, not at first. But as he began to understand exactly why Justin was acting like – well, him – Brian had to regain control, be the one to call the shots in this situation.
~~~***~~~***~~~
The flight to St. Petersburg was quiet, the two
agents barely saying anything to each other, and even then it was only something
regarding the mission. While Justin somewhat expected Brian to make a joke of
their – whatever it was that they had, he did not expect
Brian’s words hurting him as much as they did.
But it was for the best. Working undercover was one thing, but working under the suspect’s covers was something that he never should have even thought of before. He should have found another way to get close to Brian. And while at the time, getting involved with the brunet was the only viable option, Justin also felt it was his biggest mistake since he had become a CIA agent.
He glanced over at the man sitting on his left as the plane made contact with the ground. Brian was staring out the window, avoiding him.
Justin looked away.
They were in Russia. It was time to push aside whatever he was feeling and thinking and focus on one thing and one thing only – doing his job.
They met a CIA asset in the airport as soon as they got off the plane and got through customs. He confirmed that the lab was indeed inside the University and gave them the keys to a car that would take them there.
Brian drove, which was fine with Justin – it gave him more time to go over every detail of the protocol once again.
Brian parked the car a few blocks away from the University. While Justin made sure he had all the necessary equipment, Brian took out the laptop and connected to the main server back in Pittsburgh.
“It looks like there are three men in the basement,” Brian informed him. “But we can’t know for sure.”
“I know,” Justin simply said.
Getting out of the car, he took a backpack from the back seat.
“Later,” he said, shutting the door, and began making his way down the street toward the University.
A number of students smoking next to a tall building signaled to Justin that he had reached his destination. He walked past the group fairly unnoticed – dressed in simple jeans and a warm winter jacket that was in style with young Russian men.
As soon as he was inside, Justin began searching for a staircase leading down to the basement. The main hall was crowded with students and staff. Justin let his gaze linger over a janitor washing the floor a few feet away from the staircase. He realized that she could present a problem, but nonetheless decided to proceed.
He moved quickly, hoping that maybe she wouldn’t notice him.
“Ti kuda idesh?” He heard behind him.
Looking up, he gave the woman the most apologetic smile he could muster. “Ya zabil tam moyu knigu.” He told her he forgot his book downstairs.
The woman was not convinced, giving him a suspicious look.
Justin widened his smile, hoping his charms worked on women as well as they did on men. “Mi s druzyami tam v karti igrali,” he told her in Russian.
She told him that playing cards in the building was not allowed. Apologizing profusely, he begged her to let him go in because he needed the book to study for the exams. Justin smiled once again when the woman finally relented, telling him to make it quick.
“Spacibo,” he said before running down the stairs.
Once he was out of her eyesight, Justin stopped. “I’m in the basement,” he informed Brian.
“Copy that,” came Brian’s response. “Activating the fire alarm.”
A few seconds later a screeching sound came on the intercom system. Hiding in the corner, Justin waited, but nobody came up running from the basement.
“There are three men inside,” Brian confirmed a couple minutes later.
Three men he could deal with.
Taking out his gun, he slowly walked down the remaining steps. Peeking his head just far enough so that he could see, he spotted all three men – sitting at a table a few feet away.
Taking in a deep breath, Justin stepped out from his hide out and before the guards could react, shot three rounds, hitting his targets.
With the guards down, Justin proceeded toward the farthest door down the hall. Picking the lock, Justin was soon inside, staring at Kissilyev’s new creation – what it was, however, he could not tell.
Dropping his backpack on the floor, he unzipped the bag and took out a small digital camera. First part of the assignment was to take pictures and copy all records on the computer that could tell the CIA what it was that the terrorist was creating.
With enough pictures taken, Justin moved over to the computer, pulling up folders and files that he thought would contain the information they needed. “Transmitting,” he told Brian.
While the transfer was in progress, Justin walked back over to his backpack and took out the explosive. Taking out a duct tape, he taped the explosive to the middle of the partly developed device and set the timer for two minutes.
“You’ve got company coming,” he heard Brian say.
“How many?” Justin asked, walking back over to the desk. The transmission was almost complete.
“As far as I can tell, four, but there could be more.”
Justin swore, watching the status bar slowly getting up to 95%. Realizing that he didn’t have much time, he picked up the backpack. Climbing on a chair near the wall, Justin tried to push a small window in the corner of the room open. It wouldn’t budge. Justin used his backpack to break the glass, then carefully cleaned up the rest of the broken glass away from the frame. He heard voices outside the door. Glancing one last time at the timer, he saw that he had a little over a minute to get out of there. Less if the men outside had anything to say about that.
Pulling himself up, he crawled out of the small opening. He was pulling his legs out when he heard the door swing open. There was a shot fired, but Justin was already running away from the University, leaving his gun and the backpack behind.
Students and teachers were outside on the street as the fire truck pulled up to the building and Justin tried to get lost in the crowd. It wasn’t easy, though, because the men chasing him seemed to have gotten a good look at him. There was one that was following him now.
Running out on the street and nearly getting hit by a car, Justin ran toward the bridge, not stopping even when he heard the explosion.
“Stoy,” he heard a man yell behind him. “I strilyat budu!”
Understanding what the guard said, Justin stopped and raised his hands in the air. Breathing heavily, he slowly turned around as the man holding the gun neared him. The man was now standing mere inches away and Justin grabbed his arm while hitting the man in the stomach with his knee. It wasn’t as easy as he thought it was going to be, because the man punched him in the face as the two struggled to get possession of the gun.
Justin knew he had lost when he saw another man run up to them. Before he could react, he was lying on the ground and the man’s heavy boot was connecting with his ribs.
The breath knocked out of him, Justin struggled to get up. The only thing he could accomplish was move against the stone railing of the bridge over the Neva River. Looking up, his gaze settled on a barrel of a gun pointed at his head.
“Vstavay,” the first man ordered.
Justin began to follow the instruction, struggling to his feet when he spotted another figure in the middle of the bridge.
Brian.
There was a shot fired, sending one of the men down on the ground next to Justin. The other man was too quick though and fired his gun at Brian.
Justin watched in horror as the force of the bullet hitting Brian sent the brunet’s body over the railing of the bridge and into the freezing water of the river. Quickly switching his mind to what had to be done first, Justin reached for the gun of the dead guard. Before the other one could react, Justin put a bullet in his head.
Dropping the gun, Justin rose to his feet and ran toward the spot he last saw Brian. Leaning over the railing, he scanned the dark water bellow. Not thinking twice, Justin took off his jacket and, climbing over the railing, jumped.
The ice-cold temperature sent a shockwave through Justin’s body. The CIA agent fought it, focusing his mind on one thing as he forced his eyes open. He finally spotted Brian a few feet away, struggling to swim.
Quickly getting to Brian, Justin pulled both of them up to the surface and then swam them over to the banking. He helped Brian out of the water first, before following his lover and collapsing next to him.
Brian coughed violently as he spit out the water that he had swallowed, then grabbed his chest.
Trying to keep his mind on what was important, Justin pushed himself up and moved closer to the other man. “Brian,” he called, rolling the man over on his back.
The brunet was shaking, his arms wrapped around his chest.
Justin pushed Brian’s arms away and worked on unzipping the wet jacket quickly. Pushing the jacket to the sides, Justin finally felt like he could breathe for the first time since he saw Brian getting hit – the bullet hit the bulletproof vest.
Which also explained why Brian was clutching his chest. Having been shot in the vest more than once, Justin knew that it felt like being hit by a fucking sledgehammer. And while it wasn’t fatal like being hit by an actual bullet, it knocked the breath right out of you, the sharp pain coursing through your body.
Then there was also the fact that Brian spent more time than Justin in the freezing water as well as swallowing a good amount of it. Knowing now that Brian wasn’t hurt, at least in any permanent way, Justin now focused on getting them the hell out of there. More guards were probably already on their way and without either of them having a gun or any other means of defending themselves, their only option was to run.
“Brian, come on, we gotta go,” he said, trying to pull the man up. The task proved to be harder than he thought. “We have to go.”
Finally, both of them were in a vertical position, and Justin directed them toward a spot leading to the street level.
Looking over his shoulder, Justin glanced over at the bridge. Two more men were already there and Justin picked up his pace as much as he could, getting the two of them away from there.
“Where is the car?” He asked, tightening his grip on the other man when he felt Brian begin to fall. “Brian, where is the car?”
Brian’s voice was barely audible, but it was enough for Justin to choose the direction in which to walk. He quickly spotted the blue Volga parked half a block away. Finally reaching the vehicle, he helped Brian get in the passenger seat, then ran around the car and got in on the driver’s side, quickly pulling out of the parking space and onto the street. Justin cranked up the heat and directed the warm air at Brian. He could see the two gunmen run down the bridge as he sped away toward the airport.
Only when he knew that they were out of danger did Justin allow himself to think about how badly this mission could have ended and for the first time he realized that he was also trembling, his clothes wet from the little swim he took in the freezing river. Looking over to his right, he stared at the other man, grateful that Brian was sitting here next to him. Taking his hand off the stick shift, Justin ran his fingers through Brian’s wet locks, watching as the man closed his eyes and leaned into Justin’s touch.
~~~***~~~***~~~
The flight back to the States had been a quiet one. Justin was relieved when he saw Brian dozing off in his seat.
The blond, however, was not lucky enough to get lost in the dream world. Instead, his time on the plane was filled with sorting out his thoughts and feelings.
As soon as he got back to Pittsburgh, he went to the CIA building. Justin crossed the floor, heading toward Lindsay’s office with determination he hadn’t felt in a long time. He knocked on the door. Not waiting for a response, he opened the door to Lindsay’s office and walked inside, closing the door once again behind him.
“Justin,” Lindsay looked up, her smile trying to cover up the surprise. She must have realized this wasn’t a social call or a mere debriefing, her smile fading away quickly. “Is something wrong?”
“I’m through,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“The assignment. I’m not doing it anymore.” With every word he said, Justin felt his resolve strengthening.
“Justin, you can’t…”
“I can,” he cut her off. “In three months that I have been on this case, I haven’t found one solid piece of evidence proving that Brian is a mole.”
“Justin,” Lindsay tried again, getting up from the desk. “You don’t understand how much damage…”
“No,” Justin shouted. “You don’t understand. He saved my life!” He inhaled sharply, reminding himself to stay calm. “Brian risked his life to save mine. You cannot ask me to continue to lie and betray him after that. I won’t.”
Lindsay stared him straight in the eye, her own widening. “He got to you, didn’t he?”
Justin was startled by the question.
“Got you to care about him.”
Justin grit his teeth, the pieces of the puzzle finally coming together in his head. And he was angry. “That’s why you asked me to do this. Because you couldn’t do it yourself. Because you are in love with him.” He turned and walked over to the door, gripping the handle tightly with his fingers. “I won’t do your dirty work, Lindsay. Not anymore,” he ground out before leaving the office.
~~~***~~~***~~~
Justin knocked three times on the steel door and waited. A few moments later he was standing face to face with Brian.
The brunet was shirtless, wearing only the faded blue jeans. Brian stared at him for a few seconds before turning and walking back inside the loft, leaving the door open for Justin.
“Planning on coming in?” Justin heard. Stepping inside, he slid the door closed, then turned around.
Brian was standing in the kitchen, smoking. Placing the cigarette in the ashtray, Brian picked up an almost empty glass and downed the remnants of the drink. Placing it back on the counter, Brian finally looked at him, obviously waiting for some sort of an explanation as to what exactly Justin was doing there.
Justin, however, had no words. Instead he continued to stare at Brian. His gaze shifted down to Brian’s chest where a nasty bruise had formed.
“Does it hurt?” Justin finally asked, taking a few hesitant steps toward the other man.
Brian looked down, then back up at him. “Oh, you know, only when I breathe.” He smiled mockingly.
Justin however did not find anything funny. He was now standing mere inches away from Brian, unable to take his eyes away from the spot where the bullet had hit the vest.
He raised his head, his eyes finding Brian’s at once. “You could have died today,” he said quietly.
“You too,” Brian replied.
Justin looked down again. He raised his right hand, letting his fingertips trace the edges of the bruise on Brian’s chest.
He felt Brian suck in the breath under his touch. Justin closed his eyes, the emotions too much for him to handle. One moment, one fleeting moment and everything could have been over. He could have lost Brian forever. He could have lost it all before he even realized that he had it, that he wanted it.
Justin felt Brian’s fingers grip his hand. He opened his eyes and looked up.
“What are you doing here?” Brian asked, their eyes locked.
How could he explain? How could he put into words what he was feeling? What he felt when he thought that Brian was shot; he had never felt that way before in his life. He had seen people get shot, saw his friends die. But nothing compared to what he felt on that bridge in St.Petersburg.
“I don’t know,” he breathed out, thinking that it was the first time since he had met the older man that he was finally telling the truth.
Brian continued to stare at him and Justin found himself getting lost in the sea of the two hazel eyes staring back at him, looking AT him, inside him.
And as Brian lowered his head and their lips met, Justin felt his last resolve fade. He couldn’t fight it anymore. He didn’t want to fight it anymore.
He was diving in head first.
Go to Part 9