"Fuck, man, slow down!"
"Four more," Kurt stated rigidly.
Another man suddenly came up on them, looking down in shock at the bodies before raising his gun at Victor.
"Collins, wait," Kurt instructed, holding up a hand.
The man paused, eyes flashing between them.
"This one's coming intact. These people aren't Hennessey's and I'll want a fucking explanation when this is through. What is our situation?"
Collins sneered and gestured with his gun, forcing Victor to throw his to the ground. "I just dropped some great ape in the corner back there. Two more on the move. Riggs and Butcher are on their tails—they won't get out alive."
"Excellent," Kurt uttered. He then shot Collins point blank in the forehead before turning away.
Victor jumped back in shock, tripping over his feet. "Holy fucking—!"
"Pick up your gun," Kurt ordered, and was off.
Victor stared at the twitching body a moment before shaking it off and following.
* * *
Emery narrowly avoided a bullet to the throat as he dove down, colliding with Georgie's arm and nearly sending them both sprawling. "Fuck. Do you see Holt or Dabney?"
"No," she said, panting.
"Do you suppose they set their charges?"
"No way to know. See them up there?" She gave an upward head toss and Emery peered up where he could hear feet banging on the grating of long scaffolding.
"Yes."
"How many?"
"I only see two." He watched legs march back and forth, their attackers trying to find a good angle. Emery tried to see if he could get a clear shot, but his targets weaved in and out between bars and boxes too quickly. He began moving around his cover carefully, trying to find a window. He almost had one. If the bloke moved just to the right, Emery could get a shot in him. He aimed his gun and waited patiently, steadying his hand, when suddenly something seemed to strike the target. Emery watched in shock as a flurry of movement obscured by grating caused the man to be hefted over the side of the railing, where he fell to the hard floor beneath with an audible snap and a scream. Emery took the opportunity as it came. He shot the downed man in the head as he was grasping for the bone protruding from his calf and the screaming stopped. Two more shots sounded above him and the body above crumpled to the grating. Then the warehouse was silent.
One of their men was up there, Emery guessed. He made his way back to Georgie cautiously, eyes scanning the scaffolding above. "Was that it?" she asked him.
"I don't know. It's quiet…come on, let's go back around this way. Get to Victor."
They both stood, but a voice behind them made them freeze.
"Stop where you are," growled a man.
Emery looked over his shoulder to see a man with a semiautomatic aimed at their backs. He bit his inner cheek, dropping the gun in his hand. Georgie did the same.
"You don't think I know who you are?" he asked irritably. "He's been looking for you a while now. And he's not going to be happy to see you."
Emery didn't know quite what to make of that, but he moved forward when the barrel of a gun jammed into his back painfully.
"March. The both of you."
Emery and Georgie held up their hands, shooting each other a tense look as they were forced out into the open center of the warehouse floor. Emery's eyes darted up to try and seek out a savior he suspected was Victor before looking back down.
"How many of you are there?"
"Just us two," Georgie supplied.
"The truth," the man demanded, butting his gun up against Emery's head. "Or he's done for."
"You don't want to do that," Georgie said. "He's very important. You'll be—"
"I'm pulling the trigger as you babble, love."
"Five altogether," she said quickly. "I'll tell you whatever it is you want, but leave him—"
"Em?" Victor's voice called out.
"Victor," he breathed in relief. When he pinpointed the source of the shot, however, it was not Victor he saw. Suddenly, standing a mere five yards from him…
…was Kurt.
Emery had no reaction. He could only stare. Everything in his head had turned upside down.
Kurt stared back at him, features equally numb. Then his gaze hopped to Emery's right, melted into wrath, and he opened fire on Georgie.
Chapter 17
Commotion erupted.
Georgie swung back, barely moving in time to avoid being shot in the chest. A bullet caught her shoulder and she fell away, Emery diving after her but missing the catch and collapsing to the ground himself. Victor leapt out and grappled Kurt like a linebacker, who stumbled to the side.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Victor was shouting.
Emery rolled, flinging himself back up to his feet, but Georgie had recovered faster. She was already up—and running. "Georgie!" he called in surprise.
Kurt's arm shot out and flung Victor away. "Get off of me!" he snarled.
"What the hell are you doing, knock it off!" Victor demanded, staying in his line of fire. "Dude, she's our ally!"
Kurt's murderous eyes fell on Victor, who visibly gulped. "No she is not."
Victor whipped around and caught Emery's look. "Where the hell'd she go?"
"She—she just ran off," Emery stammered. He felt like he was thinking through mud. He stared down at the smear of Georgie's blood on the concrete and clumsily turned back to Victor and… "…Kurt…" Was he really there? Was he really truly there? Emery couldn't move.
"What did you mean by that? Huh?" Victor was asking, hands gripping at Kurt's shirt. "What the fuck is going on?"
"There isn't time. A dozen men will be at this site in less than a minute. We'll have a difficult enough time trying to get past them as it is." Kurt came forward and shoved Victor with a hand, pointing to the exit. "Hesitation will kill us. Go. Now."
"No," Emery said, trying desperately to grasp hold of any thought he could. "We…we've still got two men here, we…"
Kurt didn't look at him. "They're dead."
"Kurt…my god, what—"
"Shut it and get moving," Kurt demanded, walking past.
Unexpected anger sparked in Emery's chest. That was it? A month's time, no explanation, no notice, no nothing, and that was the first thing Kurt bothered to say to him? He was going out of his mind. He'd been going out of his fucking mind. "Victor," Emery grated.
Victor turned to him.
Emery pointed back into the warehouse. "Those charges are set."
Victor stared blankly. "Okay, so what?"
"Let's use them."
"What?"
"Bait them in and wipe them out. A million birds with one stone, remember?"
Victor looked around and swallowed. "Ah, shit. Yeah. Okay."
Kurt looked at them without understanding, but was clearly on edge. "We're not confronting them. We run—now—before they see us."
"No one asked your opinion," Emery bit. "You're not bailing me out of this one, you big idiot, this is me rescuing you, so bin your fucking ego."
Kurt's features mustered defiance. He snatched for Emery's arm as he stormed past, but missed.
Emery made his way to the entrance of the warehouse where he could see a truck pulling up to another warehouse. He fired on it directly and it swerved to a jarring halt nearby. Shots came back and Emery took cover. "Got their attention, looks like."
"Come on now, out the back."
The three of them ran. The door was jammed and it took a few rams before it fell open, but they were able to get out before the first gunmen entered the warehouse. "Vi
ctor, what's the radius on this detonation?" Emery asked as he ran.
"Not far, just get to the gate!"
Shots began firing behind them. Kurt stopped short, turning to fire back. Emery skidded back in irritation, grasping the taller man's shirt collar hard and forcing him onward with all his might. They all made it to the gate, slipping out, and Victor scrambled for the remote. As soon as he found it he cracked the switch hard and a thundering roar rattled the earth beneath them. A wall of the warehouse came down, billowing smoke. The roof began to cave.
"Fuck you, too!" Victor shouted at the collapsing building and its occupants, hurling the remote.
"Keep on, come on, let's go!" Emery said. Men who had escaped the blast still pursued them.
He didn't know where to go. He could see that the car they'd driven was no longer down the road where they'd parked it and this district was practically abandoned otherwise. There would be nowhere to hide. He stopped halfway down the street and looked around, but could see no vehicles.
"Shit," Victor grunted. "We can't run. They'll have a clear shot for miles."
Emery turned to look back at the way they'd come fretfully. No way out.
Just then, a car screeched around the corner. Emery threw himself back into Kurt to thrust him out of harm's way when shots fired from it, but it was beyond them, at the encroaching gunmen. Georgie was in the driver's seat, a torn cloth around her blood-soaked arm. "Come on!" she cried.
Emery grabbed onto Kurt's arm, which was raising its weapon at her, and jerked it back down. He took one last look at the men following behind them before leaping forward and wrenching the door open. He flew inside, Kurt leaping after, trailed lastly by Victor. The door hadn't shut properly before the tires were screaming against the asphalt. Victor stumbled into Kurt's lap before righting himself, pulling the door closed and ducking down in his seat. Kurt was twisting back frantically, trying to see the men coming after them, tremoring hand still clenched around his weapon and breathing fast. Emery watched him, heart hammering, head empty.
* * *
Kurt shoved Georgie unceremoniously through the door of the unit, forcing her to catch herself on the dining table to avoid falling over.
"Easy, man!" Victor warned.
"Kurt," Emery called.
"I can explain," Georgie said, clutching her side.
Emery blinked at her. "Explain?"
"She's working with us, Kurt, she's here to help," Victor attempted.
Kurt turned on him. "You haven't got a clue."
"A clue about what?"
"About whose fucking business you're mucking around in!" Kurt snapped. "She isn't here to help you or anyone else!"
Emery had never seen Kurt this explosive. His anger was palpable. He still hadn't put down his gun. "Kurt, relax."
Kurt ignored him, thrusting a finger into Georgie's chest. "You don't know who she works for."
"Yeah, man, we do," Victor assured. "I know it sounds bad. It's a long story. Getting mixed up with Ludkov was a bum deal, but there was no way out of it."
"Ludkov?" Kurt turned. "What on earth are you talking about?"
"Kurt," Emery tried again.
"He's sort of our uh…" Victor cleared his throat. "Partner."
Kurt's stare was flat. "Is that a joke?"
"Kurt," Emery said firmly.
Kurt whipped around to him with sudden obedience.
Emery jabbed a finger at the back bedroom. "A word?"
Kurt straightened up. "About what?"
"About what?" Emery repeated incredulously. "Is that a joke?"
Kurt stared at him for a long moment, then looked back between the room's other two occupants and wiped a frustrated hand over his face. "For a moment." He stared hard at Victor. "Don't let her out of your sight."
With that Kurt marched out of the kitchen to the back rooms.
Emery watched him go and shook his head. "Give me a few minutes."
Georgie reached out a hand. "Emery—"
"Just…let me talk to him," he said.
Emery followed Kurt's path into the furthest bedroom to find him waiting there, pacing a small circle, then leaning over an end table with his hands. His gun lay on its surface. Emery stepped in and shut the door, still in shock as he observed the man before him. He was alive. He was whole. He was here. "I thought you…" he began, but couldn't finish.
Kurt stared fiercely at a wall. "You have no idea what you've done. What I've done. Those men I killed are among an elite rank and their absence will be avenged."
"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't understand any of this."
"Then you should have stayed where you bloody belonged," he continued. "I took great pains to keep you out of this. You should have let me take care of it. I was doing just fine on my own."
Emery's numbness was gradually beginning to ebb. The anger with it. All this time he'd been suffering, miserable, worrying, and Kurt didn't even seem to be concerned. Instead he seemed angry that they'd crossed paths again. Emery could feel his heart shredding to bits in his chest. He didn't think their reunion could possibly hurt this badly. It overwhelmed him. He kept his distance and swallowed the lump in his throat as Victor's words ran through his head. Sometimes the idea of being wrong about certain things is too shitty to face, so you refuse to consider it. "…Is it true, then?" he asked.
Kurt finally looked at him. "Is what true?"
Emery frowned. "Did you just…leave me? Intentionally?"
Kurt slowly staggered back a step. "Leave you?"
Emery simply stared.
Kurt straightened up. "No," he said. "No, I didn't leave you, is that what you…?" There was a long moment of staring before Emery could see something snap. Suddenly it was as if Kurt only realized just then who he was speaking to—as if it was only then that Kurt really saw him. His tone lowered into breathless contrition. "Oh…Emery, no."
"Because if you would have just told me I would've tried to understand, I-I would have left you alone, I—"
"No!" Kurt exclaimed, effectively bringing back the silence. Then he lunged forward, grabbing Emery's shirt, bearing down on him and kissing him like it was the only thing he'd been put on this earth to do.
Emery's senses were completely overloaded. He clenched his eyes shut, feeling tears escape, kissing back and trying to manage the enormous tide of anxiety, relief, fear, pain, and love that all rose up to the surface. He didn't know if he wanted to cry, vomit, or fuck, but his body was caught somewhere in an uncomfortable limbo between the three. Kurt's hands were instantly tearing at his clothes. His lips were bathing Emery from his mouth to his clavicle, teeth nipping, breath short. Emery decided that fucking was the most directly appealing of his mixed urges and reached out to take fistfuls of Kurt's hair. He bit his lip when a hand slipped into his pants. "I love you," Emery declared helplessly.
The hand stopped, fingers just grazing the hair of his groin. Kurt stilled, panting against his neck. Emery wondered what he'd done wrong. Suddenly Kurt's rough grip eased back. He nuzzled against the junction of Emery's throat and shoulder and shuddered hard, then wrapped his arms around him so tightly that it hurt, crushing him against the wall. "Forgive me. Please forgive me. Oh…mein Schatz, meine Liebe, I would never, never leave you, I couldn't ever, don't think that of me, please don't…"
Emery almost couldn't breathe through the embrace, but he endured it. He could feel Kurt shaking like a leaf around him. "Kurt," he croaked in concern.
"I didn't mean for any of this. The only thing in this world I care about more than your feelings is your safety, and I didn't want to choose between them, Emery, but I had to. I can't stand to think what I must have done to you, I'm so sorry…vergib mir, bitte…bitte…Du bist mein Ein und Alles…I'd die before I left you, I love you so much, I've gone mad, I…I…"
Emery felt like a fool. Kurt wasn't angry—he was bloody traumatized. All this time that Emery had been frantic and searching, Kurt had been someone's hostage. Ripped out of his war
m, happy life and forced to do god knows what for the last month and a half. This was Kurt with an unprecedented inability to keep it together. Emery made his touches firm but gentle, running his fingers through his hair and rubbing his trembling back slowly. His voice was heavy with tears when he spoke, but he tried to keep it calm. "I-It's alright, darling, I'm here…you're alright now."
"Ich hatte keine Wahl…"
"I know…I know; it's okay…"
"Ich hatte keine Wahl…I-Ich hat…hatte…"
"It's okay…"
"Emery…"
Emery closed his eyes and clutched him back hard. "Shh, it's all okay now, Kurt. …It's all okay."
Chapter 18
It all started in Cabo.
Kurt had never been on any sort of trip that might qualify as a 'vacation' before. Leisure time by his definition was generally reading a book or an exceptionally long shower—things that lasted for minutes or hours, not days at a time. He knew that Emery had been surprised by his insistence that they take a few weeks on a beach, but he liked that. Emery was generally excited by any measure of unpredictability. So excited that he didn't sleep much the night before their flight and ended up out cold for more than half of the journey. That was fine by Kurt. The plane was quiet, Emery was heavy and warm against him, his book was interesting, and if this was what true relaxation was like then he'd be very pleased to have more of it. Even with that old bat staring at him…
As soon as they got to the hotel Emery was his usual whirlwind of chatty, charismatic glee, and Kurt suspected from the intensity of his reaction in the Mexican weather that the man might in fact be solar-powered. The first thing he wanted to do was see the beach, and Kurt planned to refuse him absolutely nothing, so he obliged. It was more intriguing than he thought it would be. He'd never seen the beach up close before. Never walked through wet sand. Never touched the ocean's edge. By the time they headed back up to their room it was dark and as much as he'd wanted to get dinner beforehand, he was too stiff and exhausted from jetlag. Sleep sounded wonderful. Emery was of course unaffected by sitting on a plane all day. He continued to exude energy as he rifled through his bag and began chucking out everything he'd packed in determination to find a place for it.