𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚙𝚢𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚎𝚋 𝚘𝚏 𝙻𝚒𝚎𝚜 (Impius x Lockdown)

[Lockdown]

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━━━━━━━━┓ ✠ ┏━━━━━━━━
𝙱𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚎 𝙼𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚑

━─━─━━─━「₪」━━─━─━─━​

The faint songs of early birds served as nature’s natural alarm clock. The rich smell of the sea laced with the Caribbean’s flavor held a special place in his heart as it meant to him a time to relax. The cool air nipped away at his skin as if conditioning it for harsher treatment when the sun beamed down and tried to burn it. Bruce stood shirtless in front of the mirror as he put his toiletries in his small bag. He combed his beard. It had been too long and he would need to shave soon. His sun-kissed skin showed signs of other lips making acquaintance with him. He grabbed a white t-shirt which would hide most of the hickeys.

Bruce slightly winced while slithering his arms through the sleeves. Another souvenir left from the latina lynx sleeping soundly in his bed. She practically used him as a scratching board last night. Not that he complained. The shirt fit him snuggly as if it were a second skin revealing his broad shoulders and filled out frame. He put on a pair of jeans before glancing over to Alessandra. His ocean eyes could freeze anyone in their tracts like the Arctic Ocean and suck them in before drowning them in a trance like a whirlpool. She was oblivious to the stunning sunset behind her. Or maybe the sunset was stunning because it had her in it. After clasping the belt closed he sauntered over to the bed quietly. He took a seat right next to the fellow secret agent. He raised his hand and gingerly combed her unruly wavy black hair away from her face as to not disturb her slumber. His thumb grazed her newest scar, ‘Lek a tiger earnin’ her stripes,’ he cooed last night while she laid on his chest.

“A’ll be goin’ now, darlin,” he whispered in his thick Scottish accent which only accentuated his sonorous tone. “Ye take care now,” he murmured before leaning down and kissing her cheek farewell. Bruce checked his watch and sighed before getting up. The large man hoisted his duffel bag over his shoulders and began exiting the room. He paused for a moment and glanced over his shoulder. It’ll probably be a while till they saw each other again. So he saved this precious moment of peace in his memory.

▄︻デ══━一
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24 Hours Later
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Bruce’s foot tapped the floor impatiently. A wretched feeling in his gut was beginning to cultivate. The longer he sat in this plain white room the more he felt like a prisoner. He extended his arm to hike up the sleeve of his blazer to glance at the time. He had landed in London an hour ago so what could be the issue?

Just then the door across from him opened. Saphire optics focused on the newcomer before his brow furrowed, “Director?” he huffed in a perplexed tone. An older gentleman in a black suit contrasting against Bruce’s own navy blue suit and tie took a seat across from the agent. Bruce was kind of relieved he opted to change sooner than later on the private jet now. The old gray-haired man gave a heavy sigh before dropping some files onto the table, “Hello Murdoch,” he curtly greeted the secret agent.

The director fashioned some reading glasses before opening the file. His crows feet crinkled as if hoping he read it wrong and it’ll magically change. “Whit is ‘is all aboot?” Bruce asked in ambivalent tone. Was he being reprimanded for taking an extra day off-so what if he used one of the days to relax? The resort was booked for anyways so it would’ve gone to waste.

“I’m personally debriefing you, and reprimanding your disobedience of orders,” the director said while not even raising his hazel eyes to look at Bruce. The agent sighed before shaking his head, “Ye wanted me t’ follow a route ‘at wis highly pupulated durin’ vacation seasin?” the Scotsman crossed his arms and furrowed his brow. His sapphire orbs burned bright in stubborn rebellion.

“You chose lucrative routes you know we couldn’t find you in and miraculously finished your job a day early. Claiming to get the target you were supposed to protect on the train a day ahead of schedule,” the director said while his eyes now glanced up to stare into Bruce’s as if peeking into his soul.

“Ye. I know I mek it look easy. ‘At’s whit we do ain’t it? Savin’ lives,” he humbly bragged knowing very few could handle the job and even fewer could go off the script and make it work. That’s why P.A.T.R.I.O.T (Primary Anti-Terrorist Regional & International Operations Taskforce) couldn’t fire him even if they wanted to. Or at least he thought so.

The director set the files down, “But there was a life lost,” he said before tapping on the paper. A hologram displayed the deceased target haphazardly stored away in the luggage area of the train. Bruce’s heart dropped. His stubborn and stoic expression faltered as he looked at the lifeless eyes of his target he had sent off alive just 48 hours ago.

The old man combed his grey hair back and clasped his hands together. “You see. I’ve been after a mole for some time now, Bruce. Someone is spilling secrets and I have managed to whittle it down to a few people. You and agent Martinez were being tested, but only one of you failed your mission,” he said in an eerie calm tone.

Bruce blinked a few times as he digested the facts. It felt as if the walls were slowly closing in on him and he felt it hard to breath. Bruce tugged on his tie and collar, “Ay didn’ do it!” he declared the truth. The director waved his hand at the hologram and displayed a gun with a silencer along with a few bullets within Bruce’s bag, “We found this in a hidden compartment in your bag. Forensics confirmed this is the same gun and rounds that killed your target. It’s not agency issued because you knew that can be traced back to you. Along with a history of your insubordination and lucrative routes to not only throw off our undercover agents acting as pursuers. You claim to complete the mission while CCTV footage doesn’t even show you bringing your target to the train but does show a hooded figure leaving the luggage cart.”

The director leaned in and gave a firm look to Bruce. “Are you a real patriot, Bruce? Or are you a double agent working for them?” he hissed that last word. He dare not even name the vile sinister organization that stood on the opposite principles of PATRIOT.

Bruce took a deep inhale and slowly exhaled in a shaky breath, “Am bein’ framed,” he stammered. It felt like a Herculean labor just fashioned a seat on his shoulders and the burden was beginning to prove too much to bear. How the hell did the gun get in his bag? Why is there no train CCTV footage of him? Why was his target dead? So many questions-so little time.

The old man clicked a button in his pocket which ushered in two burly agents into the room. Bruce immediately stood up and sized up the men, “Don’t make this anymore complicated than it needs to be Murdoch,” the director sighed with a head shake of disapproval. “I’ve been prepping for your arrival and there’s no escape.” the old timer said before the agents armed themselves with taser batons.
“If ye know me lon’ enough ye know I don’ roll over so easily,” he growled before squaring up. The director sighed before muttering, “Arrest him.”

They came from both sides. The first fellow swung and Bruce could feel his hair standing as the electric rattled just barely missing him. He made the agent pay for his mistake by clocking him the jaw. Unfortunately the second agent took advantage of this and struck Bruce in the back bringing him to his knee. He cried out as the electricity forced involuntary trembling. He balled up his fist and punched the second agent’s knee with all of his might making the man groan in pain and reflexively pull away his weapon from Bruce’s back.

Bruce took quick breaths to briefly recover before he kicked the ankle of the second agent’s other leg. With both pillars of support out of commission the giant man fell to the ground. Bruce grabbed onto his wrist and jumped before wrapping his legs around his shoulder making the agent fall faster face first. With slight push thanks to his leverage he broke the man’s shoulder while poking the baton along the spine.

The first agent got up and readied to swing before Bruce kicked him in the balls from his sitting position stunning the agent enough for Bruce to throw his taser baton at the man. Buying him enough time to get up and trap the agent in a chokehold with the baton daring to press against his chest. The director had gotten up and pointed a gun at Bruce but couldn’t shoot given the hostage Bruce obtained.

“I’m going to count to five,” the director warned while following Bruce who was slowly making his way to the door. “An’ Am goin’ tae coun’t tae tree,” Bruce countered with a heavy breath. His back faced the door now. “We can talk about this. Don’t do this Bruce,” the Director tried to plead when force didn’t work. Bruce shook his head, “Whit choice dae Ay have?” Bruce retorted before he suddenly struck the light switch with the baton causing the lights to short circuit and go off in the room.

Bruce could briefly be seen as the door opened and let in some light. “Bruce!” the Director yelled before rushing toward the door and opening it. He ran in the direction he last saw the Scotsman only to find a discarded tie and blazer. Then suddenly the fire alarm went off. The director grabbed his phone and sped-dialed a number, “I want this airport locked down! All flights are grounded and nobody leaves! NOBODY!” he yelled while water poured down from above.

▄︻デ══━一
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A Few Hours Later
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Bruce inconspicuously walked along the streets of London. Evening had settled and he hid behind his hoody. He had just raided a backup storage locker of his and had enough to blend in. He needed to hide and get answers unfortunately those two goals conflicted with one another. His next objective would show his location like a beacon. So he chose a busy internet cafe to give him enough time to get what he wanted and disappear again. He paid the cashier before walking up to the old computer in the corner. Away from the lively chattering of other patrons.

He unveiled a USB flash drive which would connect him to PATRIOT headquarters. He could try and get any piece of proof he could find to clear his name before they traced his location. He knew it took longer than a few hours to restrict his access. But he was running out of time.

With one deep breath he braced himself to be quick because once he plugged the drive in, the clock would be ticking. Without hesitation he inserted the drive into the computer.

@impius
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