#amaspress

[were-cheetah-stiles]

The Recruit (Chapter 29) - Mitch Rapp

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles

Title: “Day 106, Part I”

Characters: Mitch Rapp, Stan Hurley, Aiden Breen, Ghost & Reader/OFC

Warning: male violence against female, torture, death. the usual.

Author’s Note: Watch Me! Also, thanks, thanks, thanks to @samann98 for allowing me to use her gif of Mitch straight up abusing that woman. Not only is her gifs great quality, but so is her blog. Go follow her :) She was an instant follow for me. Also, thanks to @obriens for that Mitch drowning gif. what a super babe, like, Linna is my source of all things Dylan and my love for her is undying for that. One last thank you to @sterek for Mitch with an AR, aka, my aesthetic. Really doing me fan service with these amazing gifs.

Summary: On the team's first day in Rome, Ghost abducts Stan and sets the two young agents on a path that they cannot turn back from.

Chapter Twenty-Eight - Chapter Twenty-Nine - Chapter Thirty

"What is it you think we do here?" Stan asked, leaning back into his chair and looking from the Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi to Mitch sitting across from him at the small table.

"Kill people who need to be killed." Mitch answered nonchalantly.

"Exactly. At least you get that part of the job."

"Play nice, boys. We were all getting along so well for a minute there." You said dryly through their earpieces. Mitch looked across Piazza Navona to where you sat on the opposite side of the fountain, lazily eating gelato and people watching, trying to blend in with the tourists while actually keeping your eyes peeled for Ghost. "Wait, wait.... I think... Yea, no, I have eyes on Ghost. He's heading towards the south end of the Piazza."

"I'm pursuing. Mitch, cover my six." Stan said as he stood, took one last sip from his coffee and then walked away from the table and his young protégé.

Mitch glanced to his right, and saw you heading towards a trashcan to toss your iced treat and begin to follow Stan and Mitch. He got up from his metal chair and heard the legs scrape against the cobblestone underneath as he pushed it backwards. Mitch began to leisurely tail Stan, glancing around up at the buildings above. Any other tourist that saw Mitch would simply assume he was admiring the ancient architecture, but Mitch was actually checking for snipers and surveillance.

“Anything?” You said into Mitch’s ear, as you casually glanced over at him from across the piazza. Mitch subtley shook his head, and looked ahead at Stan.

“Fall back, kid. You’re getting too eager.” Stan mumbled into his mouthpiece.

Mitch rolled his eyes, but did as he was directed. He fell back and acted as if he was particularly interested in the plaque that you were pretending to read at the edge of the square. You watched as Stan weaved his way through the crowds of tourists to pursue the man wearing a beanie and a high collared jacket that you had positively assumed was Ghost.

"Hurley, I'm losing a visual on you.. Mitch and I are pursuing." You said with a not-so-subtle amount of concern in your voice.

Mitch turned to you, and covered his microphone so that Aiden and Stan couldn't hear him. "Y/f/i, go get the car.." You contorted your face into a bewildered frown. "Y/n/n... please."

You rolled your eyes, huffed, and broke off. "Keep me updated on your locations. I'm bringing the car around to follow." You took off on a hard jog back to the other side of the square where the black Maserati, that you had been provided with, sat.

"He's getting sloppy, Rapp, keep hanging back. I've got him." Stan directed.

Mitch's instincts were telling him to catch up though. Something was not right about all of this. If Ghost were trained anything like you and Mitch, he would know that he was being tailed and he would have had dozens of opportunities to shake them in the busy and narrow streets outside of Piazza Navona.

"Stan, what's your twenty? I've lost visual." Aiden requested through all of your earpieces. "Hurley?" Aiden repeated himself. "Rapp, do you have a visual on Agent Hurley?"

"Negative. I've lost him...." Mitch began bobbing and weaving through the crowd. "Do you have a visual on Ghost, Breen?"

"Negative. I've lost them both." Aiden answered, frantically.

"Play back the footage, Aiden. Find him!" You demanded, pulling the car around on the outskirts of the popular Italian tourist destination.

"I found his earpiece.. He's gone." Mitch reported, picking Stan's earpiece up from the dirty cobblestone streets. He rolled the tan and sticky, ear-wax covered listening device in his fingers and then finally shoved it in his jeans pocket. "Come on, Breen... Anything?"

"I GOT HIM. I got him! Ghost snatched him into the alley fifteen yard behind you on your right." Aiden said, both excited and upset.

Mitch began running back to the alley where Stan had gotten snatched, but paused when he heard people screaming and cursing in Italian and other Romance languages. Then he heard an engine revving, and suddenly, you appeared, parting the crowds as you drove aggressively towards his location.

Mitch hopped in the passenger seat, gripping the handle above the door, as you tore down the alley. "Of course Ghost was getting sloppy; it was a fucking trap. I should've known. I should've saw it coming." Mitch lamented, clenching his teeth over his disappointment in himself, and slamming his fist against the cushioned panel of the door next to him.

"I've got footage. I think he stuck him with something, cause I have Ghost stuffing Stan into the trunk of a silver Benz, and he is not fighting back." Aiden revealed.

"Where, Breen? I'm running out of alley here." You shifted into the next gear as the alley narrowed.

"Take the left. Two blocks, then a right. He's not that far ahead."

You pressed your foot down on the gas pedal further, hearing the sound of ancient brick scraping metal as sparks flew off of your side mirrors. The alley had finally narrowed too much and took both of your mirrors off. You didn't need them anyway. Stan had taught you offensive and tactical driving before he taught you how to parallel park.

"I'm on him, I'm on him." You sped up further and Mitch decided to put his seatbelt on. He swayed with the movement of the car, simply a bystander in the high speed chase for Stan.

"Who the fuck is this guy and why'd he take Stan? Am I the only one who still feels like there is something that Stan isn't telling us?" Mitch was angry. He didn't like feeling like he was behind the curve and he didn't like it when someone got the jump on him. No one answered his question.

"Holy shit, I'm watching the footage back. There was a woman following you and Stan, Mitch."

"Did she get in the car with Ghost?" Mitch inquired.

"Negative."

"Where is she now, Aiden?" You asked, leaning to your right and turning the wheel to make a sharp turn to continue pursuing Ghost, who had jumped the curb and was now driving up on the sidewalk of a busy Roman street, clipping a few pedestrians with his side mirrors in the process.

"Heading back to Piazza Navona."

"Collect her, Breen."

"I'm already on it." Aiden replied to Mitch.

"WHERE THE FUCK DID HE JUST GO?!" You shouted, slowing your speed down. "FUCK." You slowed to an abrupt stop and slammed your hands against the steering wheel. Regardless of your perfect tactical driving, Ghost had managed to lose you. You were beginning to understand how he received his nickname.

"It wasn't you. I lost him too, Y/f/i. We gotta get out of here though." Mitch glanced over at you, hearing the police sirens wailing in the distance. You rolled your head back and forth on your neck. You were angry.

"We’re coming back for you, Aiden." You said as you threw the car back into drive and raced off back towards Piazza Navona to pick up the agent and, hopefully, a hostage.

You stood outside of the door, your arms folded across your chest and a scowl resting on your lips, as you watched Mitch corner the woman, who had been following him earlier, against the white tiled wall. She was a beautiful American woman with long brown hair and a southern drawl, and you wondered what it would take to break her and start getting some answers. Mitch and Aiden had already roughed her up in the living room earlier in the evening, but it yielded no results. You stepped over to the bathtub in the bathroom and turned off the running faucets. The room suddenly became quiet besides the sound of Mitch and the woman breathing heavily.

"We don't have to do this. Just answer my questions." Mitch snarled at the woman. He was standing in front of her, shirtless. His muscles rippled down his arms and back as he leaned his arms against the wall on either of side of her.

The woman, rubbed the back of her hand against the blood dripping down her chin from her split lip, and then she spat on the ground next to Mitch's feet. Mitch was done playing nice. He slammed his right hand against the wall, next to her ear, and screamed expletives inches from her face. She recoiled, turning to her left, to see you staring coldly back, your left hand resting on the Glock on your hip-holster.

"I once saw him break a porcelain sink with a man's face. Do you really want that to be your fate?" A tinge of fear lit up the woman's eyes.

"Just tell me." Mitch put his left hand gently around her throat, almost hovering. Allowing her to understand the threat of what was to come if she didn't start speaking.

She looked at you, seemingly for help, and you simply raised your eyebrows. "Fuck you, CIA scum." The woman snarled back.

Mitch's upper lip twitched up momentarily, and he could feel his blood pressure rising. He was done. It was time to kick things up a notch. Mitch wrapped his hands around the neck of the woman's shirt, spinning her around to the other side of the bathroom, and he slammed her against the wall above the bathtub. Small cracks began to form in the tile from the impact. She yelped out in agony as her head made harsh contact with the porcelain of the edge of the tub. Mitch then pushed her under the water.

She fought back with her whole body against Mitch. She thrashed about in the water, spilling it on the floor and drenching Mitch. Mitch pulled her out from under the water, his hands still wrapped around her throat, staying just out of her reach as she tried to claw at his face. He submerged her again without asking any questions. She thrashed and thrashed and Mitch pulled her above a second time.

"Where is Ghost?!" Mitch screamed in her face. She clawed at his arms, and screamed in his face. Mitch dunked her under the surface once more. This went on for several more minutes; Mitch alway pulling her out just as her lungs began to give out.

"I'm not telling you anything. Just drown me already!" The woman screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

You frowned. This was not going to work. "M." Mitch slammed the woman against the tile wall once more, too enraged to even hear you. "M!" You yelled, finally garnering Mitch's attention. "Take a break. Let me give it a go." Mitch nodded. "Agent Breen, can you get me one of the chairs and some duct tape?"

Mitch placed the woman in the desk chair from the living room, securing her body against the chair and her hands against the adjustable arms. "What do you need from me?" Mitch asked you, staring sweetly at you. You stepped up to run your fingers through his almost curly hair and stared at the amber eyes through his beautifully dark, long eyelashes.

"To go take a break. We're gonna talk. Just us girls." You smiled at the woman, who glared in response.

Mitch began to walk out the door, before he turned around and leaned over to whisper in your ear. "I'm right outside if you need me."

"I know. I’ll be fine." You flashed him a genuine and relaxed smile and reached into one of Stan's bags.

Mitch shut the door and glanced at his arm, it was bleeding from the deep claw marks she had left, then he glanced down at his pants. He was drenched. Mitch walked over to his duffel by the bed and grabbed his other pair of jeans. He began to pull his black leather belt through the belt loops of his dry pair of pants when he heard the woman give out a blood curdling scream. Mitch noticed that he was the only one who ran to the door, as Aiden remained reclined on the sofa, picking through a plate of french fries.

He decided if Aiden wasn't concerned then maybe you were just doing your job. "You okay, Y/f/i?" Mitch asked through the bathroom door.

"Just talking about boys, M." You joked, and Mitch smirked. You were a little crazier than he knew, but then again, he was a little crazier than you knew. Mitch was not one to judge.

Mitch paced the room. The screaming had ceased about ten minutes prior and Mitch was growing anxious. Finally, the door opened, and you walked out, drying your hands off on a white bath towel. He noticed red marks on the plush towel when you threw it on the ground in the corner.

"I need a secure line with the Director." You told Aiden, who got up and walked to his computer.

"She talked?" Mitch asked, the surprise overly evident in his voice.

"She fucking sung." You replied.

"The Director." Aiden handed a hardwired phone to you, who remained standing in front of Mitch.

Mitch glanced over your shoulder and saw the woman slumped over in the chair, blood dripping onto the floor from her hands. "Director, Jennifer Blake. Yes, Ma'am, I know that.... We got her to talk. There is something going on here with Ghost and Agent Hurley, first of all. She said that he had been planning on abducting him and killing him from the moment he found out we landed in Rome. He lured us here." You paused and listened to Irene Kennedy on the other end of the line. "The real objective is that he has created more than one nuke. He's weaponized all of it and sent it off to various ports around the Mediterranean." Mitch raised his eyebrows in shock over what you had just told Kennedy. "Yes, Ma'am. Alexandria, Egypt, Athens, Greece, Barcelona, Spain, Beirut, Lebanon, Tel Aviv, Israel, Tripoli, Libya, and here, in Rome, as well." You looked up into Mitch's eyes with a tinge of fear. "Yes, Ma'am, she did. Aeroporto Internazionale Leonardo da Vinci." Mitch recognized the name. You gave the Italian name for Rome Fiumicino Airport, one of the busiest airports in Europe, and he suddenly understood that Ghost wanted carnage and to make this a true international incident. "Less than twenty-four hours, Ma'am." You nodded. "No, Ma'am. He has many more trusted associates who he has sent off with the other bombs.... Yes, Ma'am, if you secure us some assistance and transportation from the army, Rapp and I can take care of the nuke here and Ghost. He's still in the city, Ma'am. Yes, Ma'am.. Thank you."

You pulled the phone away from your ear and handed it to Mitch. "Yes, Ma'am. I understand." He watched as you turned around, grabbed a silencer from a supply table in the living area, and walked back towards the bathroom. You wrapped your fingers around the base of your gun, and pulled it out of your holster, then began screwing the suppressor onto the nose of the firearm. The woman weakly lifted her head at the sound of your footsteps on the hard tile floor. No sooner than when she looked up, did you lift your Glock and squeeze the trigger. The woman tipped the chair backwards, and crashed against the wet ground. You holstered your weapon and watched as a pool of red liquid began to move across the floor next to the woman's head. "Yes, Ma'am." Mitch gulped. "Thank you." He handed the phone back to Aiden who listened to Irene speak.

"She was ex-CIA like Ghost. Irene and the Agency thought she was dead. Apparently, she was part of Ghost's class." You gestured to the dead body in the bathroom.

"They didn't want us to bring her in?" Mitch asked.

You shook your head, and Mitch noticed your hands shaking. It was the first time you had killed someone without it being self-defense. You were frightened by how easy it was to do. "Stansfield wanted to tie up loose ends." You explained of the CIA Director, and Irene's boss.

Mitch turned his body in between Aiden and you, blocking the view of you, regardless of the fact that Aiden had his back turned to the two of you and was engulfed in his conversation with Irene. "You okay, Y/n/n? I could've done it, you know." He held your bloodied hands in his and gently rubbed his thumbs against your palms.

You looked up at him and nodded unconvincingly. "I would've had to kill someone eventually." You spoke the truth and Mitch nodded.

You and Mitch sat next to each other on the Boeing CH-47 Chinook Italian military helicopter, as it flew you out to Fiumicino to look for Ghost's temporary lair. The woman who you had identified as Jennifer Blake, one of Ghost's most trusted associates, had not been sure whether or not Ghost had been planning on making it out of this ordeal alive. That fact made him all the more dangerous. If Ghost was on a suicide mission, and had nothing left to lose, he was an even greater threat than previously predicted. The Chinook touched down on the tarmac of Fiumicino and you and Mitch were ushered to a small black Maserati, the car that you had requested be waiting for you when you landed.

Mitch hopped into the driver's seat and you directed him to the coordinates that you had received from Jennifer Blake. They brought you into an underground sewer tunnel that Mitch zipped through in the car. You fidgeted in your seat and rubbed at your wounded left arm; you had been enduring the pain and going on like you hadn't been shot less than forty-eight hours before.

"You okay?" Mitch asked over the revving of the supercharged engine.

"Just worried about Stan and that we aren't going to be able to stop all of this." You replied, watching Mitch slow to turn down a wider tunnel.

"We will, Y/n/n. I know we will, and Stan isn't new to this life. He's fine." Mitch couldn't be as soft and tender with you as he would want to be normally, mostly because he wasn't one-hundred percent confident that what he was telling you was true.

As Mitch drove through the tunnel and began seeing a growing light, he also began seeing figures get closer, blocking the way. He shifted into a higher gear and sped up. "They have guns." You announced the obvious.

"Get down." He pulled you across the center console and rested your head in his lap, then leaned to the left, towards the driver's side door, as the three henchmen sprayed the windshield of the Masertati with automatic-weapon firepower. The men backed up towards a locked metal gate blocking the way, and Mitch shifted into his highest gear. Two of the men stopped firing and began running back towards the gate, but the man in a blue and red, knockoff Adidas tracksuit, in the middle, continued his firing and Mitch pressed his foot to the floor of the car. The Maserati bounced as the man went under the front and then back tires. The man on the left of the car got torn in half by the grill of the car, also finding his way under the tires, and the man on the right got badly clipped by the mirror, splattering blood all over your passenger side window. The car blew straight through the gate, leaving it mangled and destroyed in its wake.

Mitch let go of his grip on your head and your eyes widened as you saw the cracks and webbing of the windshield from the barrage of bullets that he protected you from. "Slow.. slow, we're coming up." You pointed towards the white and fluorescent light up ahead.

Mitch came to a stop and pulled the M16 assault rifle off of the floor between your feet. You both knew you had to split up in order to find Ghost. You stared at him for a short moment as you stepped out of the car.

"I'll see you topside. You got your phone?" Mitch asked you, gripping the deadly weapon in both of his capable hands.

You nodded. You felt uneasy about splitting up. "Yea. You?" You knew you weren't hiding it well.

"I do. Just keep your eyes open, Y/f/i, and watch your back." Mitch began walking backwards towards the tunnel behind him.

"You too, M."

Mitch got topside quicker than he expected, realizing that his tunnel did not lead to the lair, but instead led away from it and back outside. He glanced around, surveying his surroundings and allowing his eyes to readjust to the harsh afternoon sun. He smelled saltwater in the air around him and then heard the sputtering of an engine and the smell of saltwater being replaced by fumes of gasoline and exhaust.

Mitch threw his weapon to the ground knowing it would slow him down, and began running towards the direction of the sound. He finally caught sight of Ghost, beginning to pull away from the marina on an oversized white and black, open-topped speedboat. Mitch began to sprint. He was the fastest on his lacrosse and track teams every year of high school, and he was undoubtedly the fastest at The Barn, although he always held back, never wanting to tip his hand completely to let everyone know what exactly he was capable of.

He plotted a course, as he realized that he was running out of dock and would soon lose his target. Mitch jumped up onto the deck of a docked yacht, running across its bow, and leapt with all of his might onto the back of Ghost's vessel.

Ghost turned at the sound of Mitch thudding against the white cushioning meant for lounging on the back of the boat. He pushed the throttle all the way up, then turned and ran towards Mitch, their bodies colliding as they began wrestling and beating on each other. The boat continued on its course, without Ghost driving, as the two men struggled against each other. Neither of them were able to get the upperhand, as they were both equally skilled. They tumbled down the short staircase into the cabin below and Mitch glanced over and saw a gagged and bound Stan strewn across a pile of life vests. In that moment of distraction, Mitch looked up, and saw the tread on Ghost's boot come down across his face, and Mitch blacked out from the impact.

Twenty-Eight <- -> Thirty

just thought I’d leave this here. Let me and the murderous boo know what you thought about our work.

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[were-cheetah-stiles]

Dylan O’Brien on Tiki and Tierney on September 5th, 2017.