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Taunting a greater menace, but change was needed. In the very least, Mycroft was well acquainted with stress and could keep composure at moments such as this. He also knew how to play games of power and was now, for the first time, making a display of his ability for the heads of the MI5 and former head of the MI6.
The only matter that was affecting his solid composure was that, what little people Mr. Heathley was able to gather (Simply a few human drones and petty assassins) were inside Gregory Lestrade’s abode. There was a complaint on noise and it was easy enough to know what Mr. Heathley had in mind when he came aware of the address. It was obvious he wasn’t leaving without a fight. But Putin was quite adamant in taking him down and, lovely coincidence, the very English government agreed wholeheartedly with the decision.
“Sir?” said lovely Miss Gibbons at his side, looking into the monitors. Her long, dark red hair framing her face as if it were a work of art.
Mycroft sighed “I believe it’s best if he comes out on his own, my calculations are that he will give up and considering his family is already in custody, he will go to the airport in an hour. There has been an open ticket to Mexico for about two months now and said account gave tomorrow as limit date… We have him whether he likes it or not. The fact that he doesn't like the idea of dying in a car bomb will not change much… I would have thought he would go with dignity in the least” he said sitting back in his chair. Eyes trained on the movement on Gregory’s street.
Dame Janelle Edwards observed silently at his side. Thr older woman was hunting not only a menace but also competition, she looked calm. Yet the entirety of her tensión was held in her almond eyes “This is a ridiculous display, defense is wasting efforts in one man for a night, we have quite a lot to do as it is” she hadn’t gotten to be head of MI5 on looks, but talent to observe and manage stress coldly and Mr Heathley had managed to wake her wrath when he took over an MI5 operation ending it with full succes. Now vengeance was a dish best served cold “Why has he chosen this particular place, Mr. Holmes?”.
Sighing, the younger man hummed. What a way to spend his first week as a 28 year old, in the very least the promotion he was seeking for was looking more likely by the minute “Calculated side effect, I needed him to think I have a weakness. It happens to be a friend’s house”.
The older women hummed and said “I will have my boys cleaning up if you take care of the problems with the family” Mycroft smiled “They did say you were cold, but using your own friend as bait… I am worried for the future of the MI6 if it harbors those kinds” psychopaths. Mostly, yes. Mycroft didn’t bother defending himself, this was perfectly crafted and Gregory was happily drunk in his mate’s house. One rather good-looking Mr. Peters. Tall, blonde and blue eyed with a winning complexion and fine physique…
Mycroft swallowed and narrowed his eyes on the screen, lacing his fingers under his chin. Peters was married, but the couple was talking the possibility of an open marriage. And Greg was so very single and enticing and drunk. Last time the Sergeant was in that situation Mycroft had let himself fall into a dangerous path of jealousy, throwing himself in front of his laptop with a brandy at hand, watching Greg chat up that horrible, boring woman, the alcohol did nothing to soothe his nerves when they kissed. And the possibility that such a catch was actually over with his infatuation for him was breaking his heart.
Oh and how he would have strangled that man when he confessed to have an official date with her the next day. Learning that you are absolutely besotted by faking to be content, in a dignified defeat. Mycroft had to remind himself that if a simple school teacher was to disappear with no trace, not many would notice but Gregory would and he was a policeman. So he simply, quietly started tracing the steps to get rid of such petty feeling drowning him. The agent had not counted on missing him, of course, and certainly had not counted on Gregory’s disappointment and mercy to be quite as compelling as his smiles and humorous antagonism.
Peters was a lovely man. And considering they had their first date a few days ago and Gregory was pathologically honest and sincere, there was nothing to fear. But the possibility was there. And it ate Mycroft’s nerves.
“Move” he said into the microphone when the men inside Gregory’s flat got into a car and Mr. Heathley left by foot. The man could hardly handle himself anymore. He looked grim, eyes wide and crazed in despair, cracked lips from walking rather than getting into a possibly compromised car. Paranoia. Mycroft cocked his head curiously. Perhaps the MI6 was indeed full of potential psychopaths.
-
“Don’t you think you’ll be affected as well? Looking over your shoulder at your every turn? I started in the agency around the same time as you and I rose to this post quite later. It must have taken quite a lot of cold minded planning, Holmes… I’m vaguely impressed” he paused to pace in the back of the blinded glass. Mycroft kept his eyes on him, almost unblinking. Tearing Jonathan Heathley to pieces of information and nothing more than a small constellation beneath the grey clouds in his eyes “I care about them… Have them deported and I will give you whatever information you need”.
Mycroft sighed “I am hardly interested in your dabbles with the Ukrainians and the Russians, Mr. Heathley” he said in a bored tone “Your family will possibly suffer the same fate as yourself, I’m afraid and considering the knowledge you bear in your own head, I believe your future is looking quite grim as well” he crossed the legs again and sighed tiredly. It had been a long couple of weeks after all. Capturing the enemy, gathering information, building a large scale operation out of thin air and dating a ravishing policeman. Quite busy.
The defeated man chuckled “And you will take over my post…"
Mycroft sighed tiredly once more "Certainly not, you have created a terrible job for yourself as a Director. My ideas differ from the dictator profile you have adopted for yourself"
"You do realize the same could happen to you” ah, playing his cards on Mycroft’s own personality treats, charming.
“I’m afraid I am different than you in a few crucial aspects, Mr. Heathley” said Mycroft with a little smile as he rose to his feet “Yet, I do thank you for teaching me with your many mistakes” he said. He started walking away leaning a bit on his umbrella. Sherrinford would be happy to know that the very man that betrayed him was now facing a fate no man would envy.
Run, brother mine. Run and never come back. He thought checking his phone and finding Gregory’s request for lunch. There were papers to sign and he would be going through the motions of rising to a high responsibility, demanding post.
But a call to Dame Edwards would help to get a good hour off. After all, what kind of agent would he be if he weren’t in the habit of having contacts to ensure a few escape routes to celebrate an impending promotion?
-
It wasn’t an hour later that he got out of Babylon-on-Thames, soon after parking his car in front of the NSY. Gregory was already outside with a cigarette between his lips, talking on the phone with a slight frown at the light. There was something sensual in the way smoke rolled from Gregory’s lips, his way of walking and how his face brightened at the sight of the black car. Simply a bit of weakness, easily covered, easily taken care of were any dangers to arise. He smiled back at the man sitting beside him.
Untouched by foreign hands, exhausted as ever and yet so terribly energetic, leaning in for a kiss from those lips was easy now so he lingered and briefly deepened it “Hello” he said looking closely at the smirk forming in Greg’s lips.
“Afternoon, handsome” said that lovely man sitting beside him, and all the pain to ensure security clearance in God’s level, was suddenly worth the trouble.