Fic: Captive Audience (X-Files/Angel/Sentinel) Part 1
Thanks go to Moon for the beta. And the initial idea for the fic, even if I did switch Alexes on her.
Series: Sentinel School
Title: Captive Audience
Fandoms: X-Files/Angel/Sentinel
Summary: Alex wants an arm, Lindsey knows a guy.
Pairings: very light Alex/Lindsey
Alex shadowed the two men as they climbed the steps leading to a non-descript building. More accurately only one was a man. The other was a green demon of unspecified origins. He frowned, glaring at the shadows cast by the building when he saw movement. Something ghosted through the shadows and he thought for a moment that it was a large cat of some sort but it disappeared before he could be sure. It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed it in the last while, but it had never been this apparent. Dismissing it from his mind he turned his attention back to the building.
There were several minutes of intense fighting within before everything went silent. It was only through years of enforced self-discipline that Alex remained hidden in the shadows of a building further down the street. Several tense moments later and the sound of two gunshots rang out in the quiet street. It was only when he saw the green demon exit the building and walk in the opposite direction that he made his way into the building himself.
He paused, listening for any sign of life, but heard nothing. The place was silent and Alex hoped that it was not because his quarry was gone. As he stepped further into the building the sharp smell of blood hit him, but familiarity made it easy to ignore. He made his way down the hallway and paused in the doorway. It was clear to him, as he watched the crimson pool spread slowly around his quarry, Lindsey McDonald, that the weeks he’d spent tracking the man might soon have been in vain.
Alex dropped down to his knees beside the man, resting his gun within easy reach. He pressed two fingers to Lindsey’s neck and waited. Eventually he felt the too rapid and thready pulse. Leaning his ear to Lindsey’s mouth he waited for signs of breathing. Finally he felt a faint breath. After seven long years of research and investigation he was not about to let his only lead die.
Moving quickly Alex shucked out of his coat and T-shirt with some difficulty. The coat he draped over Lindsey to try and retain some warmth. He flipped open his phone, dialled a number and then pressed it to his ear using his shoulder. After laying down next to the injured man, hoping to provide some much needed warmth, Alex pressed his bundled T-shirt against the more serious of the two bullet wounds.
“I’ve got your parcel,” he said blandly when the call was answered, voice betraying none of his impatience. “There’s some extensive damage to the packaging, so you might want to return it, but I think it’s salvageable. When can you pick it up?” He paused, listening to the response. After reciting his location he let the phone drop, not willing to reduce pressure on the bullet wound long enough to disconnect the call.
A few minutes later Alex heard a car door slam and someone walk into the building. Alex turned to watch the door intently as the footsteps seemed to wander for several moments before coming in his direction. A man built like a football player stopped in the doorway and surveyed the scene waiting for Alex’s permission before entering further. Alex nodded as he climbed awkwardly to his feet, retrieving his gun as he went.
“Doc sent me,” the man informed him as he lifted the bag he was holding in emphasis. He quickly got to work making sure that Lindsey could be moved before he simply scooped the injured man into his arms and went out to his van. Alex followed close on his heels. The man settled Lindsey in the van, hooking him up to an IV and placing an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose.
Alex climbed in next to Lindsey, watching him intently for any signs of his condition worsening. Miraculously the man seemed to be holding steady. He was a long way from fine, but he wasn’t getting any worse either.
Alex was acutely aware of the fact that it took almost ten minutes to reach their destination. They pulled into the garage of a suburban house and waited for the garage door to close behind them before the man opened the door and reached to check Lindsey’s vitals once more. A tall, gaunt man who’d been standing in the doorway came and assisted the other man as they placed Lindsey on a gurney. The doctor nodded for his apprentice to take the injured man away. Alex had never learnt the doctor’s name nor had he given his. Both preferred it that way. Clearly the doctor’s newest apprentice was similarly inclined.
The doctor turned to Alex and indicated for him to follow with a jerk of his head. Alex was reluctant to leave Lindsey at this point, but he trusted the doctor as much as he trusted anyone.
The doctor led him to a small study where a laptop had already been set up to transfer money. Alex leaned over the screen and began to type. While having the man at his back made him uneasy he knew that the doctor wouldn’t leave until the transfer was complete. The doctor always wanted the money upfront. He never performed surgery without it.
“The usual fee?” Alex asked, to which the taller man nodded sharply. He knew that he would be required to pay the same amount whether Lindsey lived or died, but the doctor was one of the best he knew. The only reason he wasn’t still practising legally was his penchant for experimentation, but as long as he patched Alex up from time to time, Alex wasn’t going to hold it against him.
He transferred the money and stepped away from the laptop. Alex had a number of accounts with varying amounts of money. Some of the money was payment for his work, some from stolen artefacts and paintings and some was siphoned off from companies he knew would hardly miss it. The doctor moved in and verified the transfer before leaving silently. Alex followed at a more moderate pace. The doctor stopped him at the top of the basement stairs.
“My operating theatre is sterile,” he informed Alex and his expression, though blank, seemed to convey distaste at Alex’s appearance. It took Alex a moment to remember the sticky blood that covered his arms and chest and stained his jeans. “Bathroom’s to the left.”
Alex paused, ready to challenge the taller man, before falling back. He knew better than to argue with the doctor about his operating theatre. He entered the bathroom to find an old and threadbare towel and an equally old, faded tracksuit. Thankfully, both were clean, but Alex was hardly in a position to argue.
Alex stripped with a little difficulty, unstrapped his prosthesis and stepped into the warm spray, letting it wash away the blood and sweat. Impatience, and the fact that he always felt unprotected without his weapons, pulled him from beneath the water.
Working the awkward straps took some effort, but Alex was well used to the task after seven years. He dressed in the tracksuit and made his way down to the basement. There was a lower basement level, which he’d never seen and never really had the inclination to explore, but the basement proper was more than familiar to him. He moved to a dark corner where he stood silently, watching as the doctor and his apprentice worked on Lindsey. It was clear from the intense concentration of both men that this was not going to be simple.
Some time later the machines attached to Lindsey settled into a constant, high-pitched whine. The doctor grabbed the paddles, spoke a quick “clear” and pressed them to the dying man’s chest. Lindsey jolted with the shock, but the steady whine continued. Alex took several steps forward before he stopped himself. In that moment the only thing that he needed in the world was for Lindsey to live. Every fibre of his being was geared at willing the man’s lungs to inflate, his heart to beat. Alex watched anxiously as it happened three more times.
“Clear,” the doctor said again, defibrillating Lindsey once more. The first beat startled them all, but by the time the second came the doctor and his apprentice were working swiftly to stabilise Lindsey and remove the second bullet.
Alex moved out of the basement as silently as he’d entered once they’d begun to stitch the incisions closed. He knew everything he needed to for the moment. Lindsey was alive, though whether or not he’d stay that way was another matter entirely.
Alex watched as Lindsey shifted a little before letting out a pained groan. His movements had increased as the sedative was reduced. It was time to see if there was any further damage before he was moved. Blue eyes blinked open, trying to take in everything about his surroundings, even through the haze of drugs. Eyelids closed of their own accord before they were dragged open again.
“Where’m I?” he slurred, looking in Alex’s general direction. Alex remained where he was, half hidden in shadows.
“Safe, for now,” he replied.
“ ‘S not hell ‘gin izit?” Lindsey asked, eyes drifting shut again. Alex made no reply, though he did file away the information. He waited for Lindsey to fall asleep again. Clearly Lindsey was unable, or unaware enough, to remain awake for an answer.
Alex stepped forward and stared down at the other man’s features. He’d done a lot over the course of his lifetime for one reason or another, most of them immoral, and yet he found himself unwilling to force the answers he wanted - needed - from Lindsey.
Lindsey eased into a natural sleep, the first time since his ordeal that his conscious mind had not been dulled or suppressed by drugs. He dreamed.
All around him were the crumbling remains of a city, though he couldn’t see any identifying features that would place it. There was only massive steel and concrete carcasses and shattered glass. The silence was oppressive but he was loath to break it.
A grey fox sat at his feet. It seemed familiar and he was sure he’d dreamed it before. The fox rose to its feet and took off, dodging quickly through the ruins. Lindsey followed, barely hampered by a memory of pain. Finally the fox came to a stop in a bleak and broken courtyard. Directly across from him Lindsey saw a figure cloaked in shadows. The features were shaded but Lindsey knew instinctively the moment their eyes met.
A leopard melted from the shadows, bounding towards them. The fox dashed towards it and Lindsey winced, averting his gaze. There was a flash of light and for a moment Lindsey felt more whole than he had in his entire life.
Alex sat in the corner of the room watching Lindsey. The man was pale against the white sheets, but Alex had expected no different considering the amount of blood lost. There was a bag of blood hanging from the IV stand. Alex preferred not to think about where it had come from. The doctor preferred not to give painkillers that would cause too much confusion or disorientation so Lindsey’s forehead was marred with a pained frown.
“He should not be alive,” the doctor said from the doorway, his dark eyes searching Alex’s for something, though Alex wasn’t entirely sure of what. Alex’s own gaze was drawn back to the man in the bed. “The wounds themselves were not grievous, a shoulder wound and a chest wound, though surprisingly neither hit anything vital. However, the blood loss was severe.” The doctor paused, watching his patient’s steady breathing. “I will watch him for one more day. After that he’s your problem, whether he survives or not.”
Alex nodded, having expected no less. He didn’t bother to ask for further elaboration on what was done or what the doctor expected, he wouldn’t get any.
“Keep him sedated until it’s safe to move him,” Alex added. There were questions that needed to be asked and he wasn’t about to do that until Lindsey was in an environment he could control and where there wouldn’t be others to overhear.
Lindsey raised a hand to wipe groggily at his face. He winced as the movement caused pain to lance through his shoulder and chest. There was a brief moment of panic before he remembered Lorne and the gun. The panic was quickly replaced with bitter resignation. He really should have known better than to believe that Angel would accept his change of heart. Though he did find it rather ironic that for once he was saving the day and Angel was betraying his allies. Still he’d managed to survive, though he wasn’t entirely sure how.
A brief memory of dark green eyes surfaced. Lindsey struggled to remember where it came from before he gave a mental shrug. Things were still a little too hazy for him to be too concerned with chasing down errant memories.
He forced his eyes open, grimacing a little at the light, dim though it was. The first thing he saw was a stained ceiling and he frowned in distaste. It reminded him of a time he thought he’d left far behind. He lifted his head a little to look around the room, not entirely sure as to why he felt anxious.
He gingerly levered himself up when he heard someone moving about in the next room. Moments later a man moved out of what Lindsey saw to be the bathroom. He looked up, familiar green eyes meeting Lindsey’s own and Lindsey immediately released the breath he’d been holding. They stared at each other for a long moment, measuring the other up and trying to pinpoint weaknesses. Lindsey was sure that he had more than a few on show at the moment.
“Who are you?” he asked, willing to concede at this point when there was no chance that he’d win.
“Alex,” the man replied, circling the bed. Lindsey followed his movement feeling uneasy with just how vulnerable he was.
“Thanks for the help, Alex,” Lindsey said as he levered himself up, ducking his head as he did so. His hair fell forward, obscuring his pained grimace. “I’ve got places to be, but I guess I owe you one so if you ever need a favour or something…” he continued with false sincerity.
“In that case I’m collecting,” Alex replied, placing two painkillers the opposite side of the beds to Lindsey, who scowled.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly well off.”
Lindsey watched Alex’s expression closely trying to determine precisely what the other man was getting at.
“It’s not what you have that I want. It’s what you know.”
“Yeah well, apparently I don’t know as much as I thought I did,” Lindsey said, eyes drifting to the painkillers though he remained resolutely on his side of the room.
“You’ll know about this,” Alex assured him, looking pointedly at Lindsey’s right hand. Lindsey’s eyes narrowed.
“That project was stopped,” Lindsey answered automatically.
Alex noticed that the reply was a little too quick and the gaze was held a little too long. His smile was smug and self-satisfied as he slipped his right hand into his jacket to his concealed shoulder holster. It was clear to him that Lindsey was lying and it would be simpler all around if he could convince the man to divulge the information without too many complications. He’d hate to have to resort to torture after all the effort it took to fix up Lindsey.
“You aren’t of any use to me then,” Alex said lazily as he withdrew a gun. He flicked off the safety with his thumb and brought the gun up, aiming at Lindsey.
Lindsey steeled himself instinctively, the memory of what happened only days ago clear in his mind. It occurred to him that he owed no allegiance to Wolfram and Hart, especially now with the firm in ruins and the Circle of the Black Thorn destroyed. He certainly didn’t owe Angel and his moral sensibilities anything.
“But I’m sure I can find a suitable alternative,” he added, careful to keep his voice even and his expression composed. He knew what Alex wanted, and, taking into account the man’s familiarly rigid left arm, he knew how desperately Alex wanted it. That gave him a distinct advantage.
Alex lowered his arm, flicked the safety off and returned the gun to his holster in a smooth, practised movement that made Lindsey shudder just a little. He was sure now that he was dealing with a professional killer who would have no reservations about killing him if the answers he gave weren’t satisfactory. He wasn’t entirely sure why he found himself empathising with his troubled and desperate captor.
“You’ve got one day,” Alex told him. Lindsey nodded as he eased himself back down onto the bed once more. It was just as well that they’d reached some sort of agreement since he was feeling more than a little light-headed.
Part 2
Series: Sentinel School
Title: Captive Audience
Fandoms: X-Files/Angel/Sentinel
Summary: Alex wants an arm, Lindsey knows a guy.
Pairings: very light Alex/Lindsey
Alex shadowed the two men as they climbed the steps leading to a non-descript building. More accurately only one was a man. The other was a green demon of unspecified origins. He frowned, glaring at the shadows cast by the building when he saw movement. Something ghosted through the shadows and he thought for a moment that it was a large cat of some sort but it disappeared before he could be sure. It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed it in the last while, but it had never been this apparent. Dismissing it from his mind he turned his attention back to the building.
There were several minutes of intense fighting within before everything went silent. It was only through years of enforced self-discipline that Alex remained hidden in the shadows of a building further down the street. Several tense moments later and the sound of two gunshots rang out in the quiet street. It was only when he saw the green demon exit the building and walk in the opposite direction that he made his way into the building himself.
He paused, listening for any sign of life, but heard nothing. The place was silent and Alex hoped that it was not because his quarry was gone. As he stepped further into the building the sharp smell of blood hit him, but familiarity made it easy to ignore. He made his way down the hallway and paused in the doorway. It was clear to him, as he watched the crimson pool spread slowly around his quarry, Lindsey McDonald, that the weeks he’d spent tracking the man might soon have been in vain.
Alex dropped down to his knees beside the man, resting his gun within easy reach. He pressed two fingers to Lindsey’s neck and waited. Eventually he felt the too rapid and thready pulse. Leaning his ear to Lindsey’s mouth he waited for signs of breathing. Finally he felt a faint breath. After seven long years of research and investigation he was not about to let his only lead die.
Moving quickly Alex shucked out of his coat and T-shirt with some difficulty. The coat he draped over Lindsey to try and retain some warmth. He flipped open his phone, dialled a number and then pressed it to his ear using his shoulder. After laying down next to the injured man, hoping to provide some much needed warmth, Alex pressed his bundled T-shirt against the more serious of the two bullet wounds.
“I’ve got your parcel,” he said blandly when the call was answered, voice betraying none of his impatience. “There’s some extensive damage to the packaging, so you might want to return it, but I think it’s salvageable. When can you pick it up?” He paused, listening to the response. After reciting his location he let the phone drop, not willing to reduce pressure on the bullet wound long enough to disconnect the call.
A few minutes later Alex heard a car door slam and someone walk into the building. Alex turned to watch the door intently as the footsteps seemed to wander for several moments before coming in his direction. A man built like a football player stopped in the doorway and surveyed the scene waiting for Alex’s permission before entering further. Alex nodded as he climbed awkwardly to his feet, retrieving his gun as he went.
“Doc sent me,” the man informed him as he lifted the bag he was holding in emphasis. He quickly got to work making sure that Lindsey could be moved before he simply scooped the injured man into his arms and went out to his van. Alex followed close on his heels. The man settled Lindsey in the van, hooking him up to an IV and placing an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose.
Alex climbed in next to Lindsey, watching him intently for any signs of his condition worsening. Miraculously the man seemed to be holding steady. He was a long way from fine, but he wasn’t getting any worse either.
Alex was acutely aware of the fact that it took almost ten minutes to reach their destination. They pulled into the garage of a suburban house and waited for the garage door to close behind them before the man opened the door and reached to check Lindsey’s vitals once more. A tall, gaunt man who’d been standing in the doorway came and assisted the other man as they placed Lindsey on a gurney. The doctor nodded for his apprentice to take the injured man away. Alex had never learnt the doctor’s name nor had he given his. Both preferred it that way. Clearly the doctor’s newest apprentice was similarly inclined.
The doctor turned to Alex and indicated for him to follow with a jerk of his head. Alex was reluctant to leave Lindsey at this point, but he trusted the doctor as much as he trusted anyone.
The doctor led him to a small study where a laptop had already been set up to transfer money. Alex leaned over the screen and began to type. While having the man at his back made him uneasy he knew that the doctor wouldn’t leave until the transfer was complete. The doctor always wanted the money upfront. He never performed surgery without it.
“The usual fee?” Alex asked, to which the taller man nodded sharply. He knew that he would be required to pay the same amount whether Lindsey lived or died, but the doctor was one of the best he knew. The only reason he wasn’t still practising legally was his penchant for experimentation, but as long as he patched Alex up from time to time, Alex wasn’t going to hold it against him.
He transferred the money and stepped away from the laptop. Alex had a number of accounts with varying amounts of money. Some of the money was payment for his work, some from stolen artefacts and paintings and some was siphoned off from companies he knew would hardly miss it. The doctor moved in and verified the transfer before leaving silently. Alex followed at a more moderate pace. The doctor stopped him at the top of the basement stairs.
“My operating theatre is sterile,” he informed Alex and his expression, though blank, seemed to convey distaste at Alex’s appearance. It took Alex a moment to remember the sticky blood that covered his arms and chest and stained his jeans. “Bathroom’s to the left.”
Alex paused, ready to challenge the taller man, before falling back. He knew better than to argue with the doctor about his operating theatre. He entered the bathroom to find an old and threadbare towel and an equally old, faded tracksuit. Thankfully, both were clean, but Alex was hardly in a position to argue.
Alex stripped with a little difficulty, unstrapped his prosthesis and stepped into the warm spray, letting it wash away the blood and sweat. Impatience, and the fact that he always felt unprotected without his weapons, pulled him from beneath the water.
Working the awkward straps took some effort, but Alex was well used to the task after seven years. He dressed in the tracksuit and made his way down to the basement. There was a lower basement level, which he’d never seen and never really had the inclination to explore, but the basement proper was more than familiar to him. He moved to a dark corner where he stood silently, watching as the doctor and his apprentice worked on Lindsey. It was clear from the intense concentration of both men that this was not going to be simple.
Some time later the machines attached to Lindsey settled into a constant, high-pitched whine. The doctor grabbed the paddles, spoke a quick “clear” and pressed them to the dying man’s chest. Lindsey jolted with the shock, but the steady whine continued. Alex took several steps forward before he stopped himself. In that moment the only thing that he needed in the world was for Lindsey to live. Every fibre of his being was geared at willing the man’s lungs to inflate, his heart to beat. Alex watched anxiously as it happened three more times.
“Clear,” the doctor said again, defibrillating Lindsey once more. The first beat startled them all, but by the time the second came the doctor and his apprentice were working swiftly to stabilise Lindsey and remove the second bullet.
Alex moved out of the basement as silently as he’d entered once they’d begun to stitch the incisions closed. He knew everything he needed to for the moment. Lindsey was alive, though whether or not he’d stay that way was another matter entirely.
Alex watched as Lindsey shifted a little before letting out a pained groan. His movements had increased as the sedative was reduced. It was time to see if there was any further damage before he was moved. Blue eyes blinked open, trying to take in everything about his surroundings, even through the haze of drugs. Eyelids closed of their own accord before they were dragged open again.
“Where’m I?” he slurred, looking in Alex’s general direction. Alex remained where he was, half hidden in shadows.
“Safe, for now,” he replied.
“ ‘S not hell ‘gin izit?” Lindsey asked, eyes drifting shut again. Alex made no reply, though he did file away the information. He waited for Lindsey to fall asleep again. Clearly Lindsey was unable, or unaware enough, to remain awake for an answer.
Alex stepped forward and stared down at the other man’s features. He’d done a lot over the course of his lifetime for one reason or another, most of them immoral, and yet he found himself unwilling to force the answers he wanted - needed - from Lindsey.
Lindsey eased into a natural sleep, the first time since his ordeal that his conscious mind had not been dulled or suppressed by drugs. He dreamed.
All around him were the crumbling remains of a city, though he couldn’t see any identifying features that would place it. There was only massive steel and concrete carcasses and shattered glass. The silence was oppressive but he was loath to break it.
A grey fox sat at his feet. It seemed familiar and he was sure he’d dreamed it before. The fox rose to its feet and took off, dodging quickly through the ruins. Lindsey followed, barely hampered by a memory of pain. Finally the fox came to a stop in a bleak and broken courtyard. Directly across from him Lindsey saw a figure cloaked in shadows. The features were shaded but Lindsey knew instinctively the moment their eyes met.
A leopard melted from the shadows, bounding towards them. The fox dashed towards it and Lindsey winced, averting his gaze. There was a flash of light and for a moment Lindsey felt more whole than he had in his entire life.
Alex sat in the corner of the room watching Lindsey. The man was pale against the white sheets, but Alex had expected no different considering the amount of blood lost. There was a bag of blood hanging from the IV stand. Alex preferred not to think about where it had come from. The doctor preferred not to give painkillers that would cause too much confusion or disorientation so Lindsey’s forehead was marred with a pained frown.
“He should not be alive,” the doctor said from the doorway, his dark eyes searching Alex’s for something, though Alex wasn’t entirely sure of what. Alex’s own gaze was drawn back to the man in the bed. “The wounds themselves were not grievous, a shoulder wound and a chest wound, though surprisingly neither hit anything vital. However, the blood loss was severe.” The doctor paused, watching his patient’s steady breathing. “I will watch him for one more day. After that he’s your problem, whether he survives or not.”
Alex nodded, having expected no less. He didn’t bother to ask for further elaboration on what was done or what the doctor expected, he wouldn’t get any.
“Keep him sedated until it’s safe to move him,” Alex added. There were questions that needed to be asked and he wasn’t about to do that until Lindsey was in an environment he could control and where there wouldn’t be others to overhear.
Lindsey raised a hand to wipe groggily at his face. He winced as the movement caused pain to lance through his shoulder and chest. There was a brief moment of panic before he remembered Lorne and the gun. The panic was quickly replaced with bitter resignation. He really should have known better than to believe that Angel would accept his change of heart. Though he did find it rather ironic that for once he was saving the day and Angel was betraying his allies. Still he’d managed to survive, though he wasn’t entirely sure how.
A brief memory of dark green eyes surfaced. Lindsey struggled to remember where it came from before he gave a mental shrug. Things were still a little too hazy for him to be too concerned with chasing down errant memories.
He forced his eyes open, grimacing a little at the light, dim though it was. The first thing he saw was a stained ceiling and he frowned in distaste. It reminded him of a time he thought he’d left far behind. He lifted his head a little to look around the room, not entirely sure as to why he felt anxious.
He gingerly levered himself up when he heard someone moving about in the next room. Moments later a man moved out of what Lindsey saw to be the bathroom. He looked up, familiar green eyes meeting Lindsey’s own and Lindsey immediately released the breath he’d been holding. They stared at each other for a long moment, measuring the other up and trying to pinpoint weaknesses. Lindsey was sure that he had more than a few on show at the moment.
“Who are you?” he asked, willing to concede at this point when there was no chance that he’d win.
“Alex,” the man replied, circling the bed. Lindsey followed his movement feeling uneasy with just how vulnerable he was.
“Thanks for the help, Alex,” Lindsey said as he levered himself up, ducking his head as he did so. His hair fell forward, obscuring his pained grimace. “I’ve got places to be, but I guess I owe you one so if you ever need a favour or something…” he continued with false sincerity.
“In that case I’m collecting,” Alex replied, placing two painkillers the opposite side of the beds to Lindsey, who scowled.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly well off.”
Lindsey watched Alex’s expression closely trying to determine precisely what the other man was getting at.
“It’s not what you have that I want. It’s what you know.”
“Yeah well, apparently I don’t know as much as I thought I did,” Lindsey said, eyes drifting to the painkillers though he remained resolutely on his side of the room.
“You’ll know about this,” Alex assured him, looking pointedly at Lindsey’s right hand. Lindsey’s eyes narrowed.
“That project was stopped,” Lindsey answered automatically.
Alex noticed that the reply was a little too quick and the gaze was held a little too long. His smile was smug and self-satisfied as he slipped his right hand into his jacket to his concealed shoulder holster. It was clear to him that Lindsey was lying and it would be simpler all around if he could convince the man to divulge the information without too many complications. He’d hate to have to resort to torture after all the effort it took to fix up Lindsey.
“You aren’t of any use to me then,” Alex said lazily as he withdrew a gun. He flicked off the safety with his thumb and brought the gun up, aiming at Lindsey.
Lindsey steeled himself instinctively, the memory of what happened only days ago clear in his mind. It occurred to him that he owed no allegiance to Wolfram and Hart, especially now with the firm in ruins and the Circle of the Black Thorn destroyed. He certainly didn’t owe Angel and his moral sensibilities anything.
“But I’m sure I can find a suitable alternative,” he added, careful to keep his voice even and his expression composed. He knew what Alex wanted, and, taking into account the man’s familiarly rigid left arm, he knew how desperately Alex wanted it. That gave him a distinct advantage.
Alex lowered his arm, flicked the safety off and returned the gun to his holster in a smooth, practised movement that made Lindsey shudder just a little. He was sure now that he was dealing with a professional killer who would have no reservations about killing him if the answers he gave weren’t satisfactory. He wasn’t entirely sure why he found himself empathising with his troubled and desperate captor.
“You’ve got one day,” Alex told him. Lindsey nodded as he eased himself back down onto the bed once more. It was just as well that they’d reached some sort of agreement since he was feeling more than a little light-headed.
Part 2