#this takes place before the most recent recruitverse pieces

[kiruuuuu]

Siege-o-ween ‘22, Day 6! 🏚️🩸

It is I again, dearest readers, with my seasonal offering of fic, prompted by @dualrainbow​‘s annual Siege-o-ween event! My thanks goes out to the one source allowing me to force some writing out of myself - thank you for organising this, dearest mods 💝 My prompt was “there’s a body in his trunk, what do I do?” which immediately screams of mayhem, so who best to cause experience it but my chaotic recruits? (Recruitverse, spook and chaos, Rating T, ~6.5k words)

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“Do you think we’ll get to see a body?”, Shay asks apropos nothing into the middle of Gian’s and Jojo’s heated discussion over the benefits of wearing two different kinds of shoes.

“Unlikely”, Ivan speaks up, the simple motion of breathing in enough to press Jojo even further against the door of the tiny car. As it’s a British model, Shay was their only choice for a driver, meaning Gian as second tallest joined him in the front, which leaves the German squeezed in next to Ivan Ivanovic’s bulky frame in the middle and Valenti on the Russian’s other side, having a similarly uncomfortable time. “House was cleared out days ago. Sledge is just setting up safe house now.”

“That’s what Thatcher claimed, at least”, Valenti mutters, eyes glued to the navigation app. “Take a left here. I don’t see why they need all of us for a supply run.”

“Exactly!”, agrees Shay and switches on the right indicator. “It’s weird. And you even got your phone back for this.”

Jojo grimaces, not appreciating the reminder – Sledge must’ve suffered a bruised ego on a mission or something, judging by how he’s been hounding them recently, a vendetta which culminated in their phones getting confiscated for a week. It’s the fifth day now and Jojo is pretty sure at least ten people will assume he’s dead, even more will be convinced he’s ghosting them and leave quite unfriendly messages, and the backlog on all his dailies will be unmanageable.

“Left, Shay.”

“As scant as it is, I still harbour the hope they will involve us in their next endeavour and this happening turns out to be a briefing.”

“Yes! You’re right, who cares if we a see a body if it means we’ll get to create some”, Shay lets some of his latent psychopathy slip through (likely a manifestation of Brittany-related withdrawal) and makes a right turn.

“Hey! Left! I said – Shay, the other left! How do you not get lost in Hereford?!”

“He does. All the time”, Jojo cuts in helpfully, with Gian nodding. “It’s not a huge detour, is it?” He cranes his neck to glance at the smartphone but realises soon enough Ivanko is just too fucking wide to allow for any kind of wiggle room.

“I am trying to be as small as possible.”

“Great job with that, you’re sitting on half my leg”, Valenti barks at the poor Russian. “It’s a miracle you’re not fully in my lap right now. Left here, and I’m tapping your shoulder, Shay, so you know which direction to go, okay? This one. This is left.”

“Without knowing what to expect, somehow these woods appear to me the perfect hideout for a group of scoundrels”, Gian muses, eyeing the scenery flying past the window. They’re far out, on their way at first surrounded by nothing but empty fields and tiny huts, now past the tree line and rattling through badly-maintained roads while the twilight of the setting sun peeks through tall conifers. If Jojo’s current mood hadn’t defaulted to ‘generally annoyed’, he would probably feel a little… boxed in.

Well. Even more than by Ivanko’s frankly ridiculous physique.

“If you are so uncomfortable, you could sit on my lap.”

“What?! Under no circumstances, ever, would I do that. Why don’t you ask Jojo, huh?”

It’s obvious where this is going, and Jojo is not above taking the bait. He ignores the warning half-look he receives from over Gian’s shoulder and shoots back: “Because you’re a lot shorter than me. You’ll fit better.”

Before Valenti can explode in rage, their ever-harmonious American quickly offers: “We can switch places, if you prefer. I do not need the extra space.”

“Absolutely not, I’ll suffocate with you two back here!”, Jojo protests. “Why can’t I ride shotgun?”

“I could sit on your lap and we could try driving the car at the same time”, Shay suggests joyfully and for a brief moment, Jojo pays no attention to Valenti’s furious outburst and Ivan’s low rumbling voice and Gian’s attempted appeasement. Instead, he imagines putting his arms around a slender torso and his cheek against a warm back and closing his eyes, and just experiencing peace, a peace so soothing, so -

And then he spots something, something small by the side of the road, and shrieks at the top of his lungs: “DIANA!!”

Instantly, Shay slams on the brakes, causing at least two people to hit their heads on something as the vehicle screeches to a halt. Right next to a startled corgi.

“Not every corgi is Diana, you moron!”, Valenti snaps at him, rubbing his forehead.

“Well this one fucking is, I’d recognise her anywhere. Sweetie! Diana! Darling, here!”

The dog’s head whips up at the sound of his voice, and by then everyone must’ve noticed the tartan bandanna, because suddenly they’re all yelling at Valenti to open the door and snatch the precious pet so they can rescue her. Sledge probably brought her with him and she ran off and got herself lost.

Sighing, Valenti does as he’s told and half spills out of the car when he opens the door to pick up the most beautiful girl in the world, wagging her butt with excitement now that she’s recognised them. That’s when they hear the voice.

“Oi!”, someone yells, a figure jogging towards their car. “What are you doing?! That’s my dog! Fucking stop!”

It’s not Sledge. It’s not Maestro. In fact, it’s nobody they know, so they waste no time dragging the Frenchman back in, slamming the door shut and urging Shay to step on it. Which, to his credit, he immediately does.

“Who was that?”, Gian wants to know, seeming worried.

“Sounded like girl. Teenager. Sledge has no children, yes?”

But before anyone can reply, a loud bang makes them jump and forces a curse out of Ivan Ivanovic. Jojo whips around and has no trouble spotting the large crack in their rear window. “The bitch fucking threw a rock or something! Shay, stop, we have to get her. First dognapping, now vandalism?!”

“I do not think it is advisable -” Yet Shay cares not about Gian’s opinion, opting instead to perform another emergency stop, prompting even more cursing this time. There’s someone standing in the road, they can see her clearly now, and she does not flinch when the car whooshes backwards towards her. She’s still shouting at them.

“Give her back, she’s not yours! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

Valenti shoves the gently confused Diana into Ivanko’s hands who utters no protest when Jojo takes her off him, and then the spiel repeats once more: open the door, pick up the girl, drag her inside, close the door, keep driving. Except this time, their new passenger seems less inclined to comply.

“I’m gonna kill you! I’ll kill you all!”, she threatens, probably trying to flail wildly with little success – they’re four people on the back bench now and breathing is quickly becoming a luxury. Jojo’s sole focus is the fluffy animal in his arms and he’s shielding her with his life, only just managing to press out a quiet: “Get in his fucking lap, Valenti, so help you God!”

To expedite the process, Ivan simply unbuckles the Frenchman and pulls until he slips free, now wedged between the two front seats. The back bench breathes a collective sigh of relief.

“Would you please put on your seatbelt?”, Gian softly addresses the kicking and screaming teen.

“Shay, take a right here. Uh, I can’t reach – hey, can you stop yelling and tap his right shoulder?”

“What is wrong with you?!”

“You’re the one who stole a dog”, Shay accuses her right back and somehow, through sheer luck, actually makes the correct turn.

“No! You did! I don’t know who you are. Where the hell are we going anyway?” When she reaches for the phone, Valenti instinctively jerks away, causing the device to slip out of his hands. He juggles it for a few seconds while the girl tries to grab it herself, and Jojo figures there’s no reason to get involved when Ivanko is right there with his scarily accurate coordination and lightning reactions – only his arms are firmly wrapped around Valenti’s midriff and his cheek is pressed against his back (and wait a goddamn minute), so eventually, the phone plunges straight underneath Shay’s seat.

The two combatants dive after it, knocking their heads together and trying to kick each other’s shins, Valenti nearly folding in half until Ivan loosens his iron grip and allows him a more horizontal position, and Jojo decides that if Valenti accidentally kicks Diana, he’ll sink his teeth into Valenti’s calf.

“Oh! Over here!”, Gian suddenly calls and they all yelp when Shay jerks the steering wheel for a turn so sharp it could cut glass.

“There we are”, says Shay after he’s parked, sounding proud of himself and apparently oblivious to the mayhem in the back. If he looked into his rear-vision mirror, he’d be greeted with a friendly face, happily panting: Jojo is holding their precious cargo up so she wouldn’t get squished while simultaneously trying to get away from the boot right next to his face.

“Great”, mutters Valenti from somewhere beneath the seats.

.

After the seven of them have piled out of the car, they stand in awe before the building looming over them.

“If I ever had to describe a murder house”, Jojo grumbles, “this would be it.” Windows boarded up, the dilapidated house (which barely deserves that title) looks anything but welcoming, rotted wood groaning ominously in their direction. The only thing missing is some crows cawing from the gables. It’d be the perfect location for a Halloween party, cobwebs and spatters of reddish-brown here and there already included. Jojo is pretty sure it’s actual dried blood.

“This is Sledge’s car, right?” Shay points to the much nicer-looking vehicle next to where he parked their run-down rental, a hand-me-down provided by Rainbow for their current task.

To their surprise, it’s the girl who pipes up with a confident: “It is, yes.”

“You know him?”

She makes a face at Valenti. “Duh. Diana is his dog, of course I know him. He’s friends with my dad.”

Oh. Ohhhh. The five of them exchange a few glances, some of which reproachful, relieved or concerned. Looks like she didn’t kidnap Diana after all. “So… you were just walking her?”

Another eye-roll. Which, fair enough. “Yes. He let me take her for the day because he said it could be dangerous if she stayed. Whatever that’s supposed to mean. Who are you again?”

Gian’s politeness kicks in and he introduces all of them with their full names and nicknames before Valenti can stop him – might not be the best idea to let her know who exactly it was who stole her off the street, but Sledge would find out anyway. He always finds out. “And what might your name be?”

She hesitates for a second before replying: “Lottie. Just call me Lottie.”

“That’s an odd name”, Shay blurts out without a filter, as usual, earning him a hard stare and a: “Like you lads can talk.”

“Let us meet with Sledge and get this over with.” Ivan Ivanovic, ever fearless, is the first to approach the foreboding structure, the corgi happily trotting after him. They have no real choice but to follow.

The briefing they received was short: Rainbow wanted to install a safehouse not too far from the base and Sledge had been assigned the task of ensuring it’s liveable as well as properly stocked and secured. After not having heard from him in a day, Thatcher assumed he’d need some supplies and instructed them to check on the Scotsman and deliver some cans of food, ammunition and other paraphernalia. So now they’re here. In this creepy-ass house.

Jojo jumps when the first step up to the porch creaks loudly under his foot and receives a jab in the side by Valenti, frowning at him. “Don’t be dramatic”, the Frenchman grumbles at him.

“You don’t think this whole thing is kinda weird? It’s not like Sledge to cut contact. There are no fresh tyre tracks, so he hasn’t moved his car recently. And then what the girl said – it’d be dangerous?”

“My name is Lottie.”

He’s about to snap back just as he enters the house proper, and simply falls silent entirely. What little sunlight is left crawls through badly-covered windows and holes in the ceiling, illuminating what can only be described as a scene of battle. Furniture is overturned, broken and splintered, carpets ripped, walls riddled with holes of various sizes. Except for a multitude of foot- and handprints as well as some wiped-down areas, everything is covered in a thick layer of dust. One room over, the ceiling is largely missing so Jojo catches sight of parts of the roof itself.

And, most alarmingly, there’s more blood. This time, it’s not old at all, looks pretty fresh actually, pooling and dripping through the cracks at the top of the stairs to the lower floor – and if Jojo is not mistaken, there are marks on the steps as if something (or someone?) had been dragged down into the basement.

“Looks like this is a murder house”, Lottie says what they’re all thinking.

“Jesus fucking Christ”, is Jojo’s contribution, and Gian: “Language!”

It’s Shay, of course, who decides to yell for Sledge at the top of his lungs, which is the moment Ivanko decides that no, they’re not actually going to stay here, thank you very much. He bodily pushes them back out the door and announces: “This is situation. We will bring girl to safety and then ask Thatcher for further orders.”

“She’s safest with us”, claims Valenti and sounds like he genuinely believes himself. Everyone ignores Lottie’s quiet: “I can defend myself, you know.”

“If he’s not in the house, where could he be?”

Jojo doesn’t know whether to hug Shay in moral support or enlighten him on the possibility that Sledge might be getting gutted as they speak. “We should still check it out. She can wait outside with Diana while we clear the house. Maybe this is nothing.” Despite his words, he can feel his adrenaline level rising by the second. The blood looked real. There’s definitely something going on here.

“Waiting outside may not be the safe option”, Gian cuts in, face pale. He’s pointing towards their car and it takes them a moment to spot it, but he’s right: all four tyres are flat. “We barely turned our backs. There might be someone watching us.”

Instinctively, they move to surround the two civilians (though they have to keep shifting legs to stop Diana from wandering outside their protective circle), brows furrowed. All levity is gone and Jojo catches himself checking his belt for a gun. Neither of them brought one, of course, why would they need it? “Anyone armed? We should’ve insisted on a bloody pistol at least. Fuck.”

Heads shaking all around. “I have pocket knife”, Ivanko shrugs. “But my fist is deadlier than tiny blade.”

“You think Sledge brought something? We could smash a window.”

The Russian offers Valenti an amused half-smile. “I think his wrath would be worse than whatever is going on here. But good idea about his car, I can probably open trunk.” He trudges over to the vehicle in question, making the rest of them huddle even closer, and kneels down to fiddle with something. Jojo has picked a few locks in his life though he can’t for the life of him imagine how this is supposed to work – and a few seconds later, the trunk opens with a quiet click.

“Woah”, comes from the girl in their midst.

Wordlessly, Ivan Ivanovic blinks at the contents of Sledge’s trunk, not visible from where they’re standing. Valenti lets out an impatient: “And?!”

Still refusing to respond, the Russian rises to his feet, brows raised. And just stands there. This doesn’t bode well.

“Nothing of use”, he finally says, voice suspiciously even.

“Oh for the love of -” Valenti breaks away from the group and narrowly stops Ivanko from closing the tailgate. The two of them stand there, staring at whatever it is – Ivan stoic, Valenti with his mouth open.

Sighing, Shay is the next to join them, and he at least uses his words: “Huh. There’s a body in Sledge’s trunk.”

Oh shit.

Gian opens his mouth just as a bullet hits the ground next to their feet, and Valenti’s frantic inside is wholly unnecessary seeing as they act faster than their brains can catch up: Jojo grabs Diana off the floor and dives after Gian who’s dragging Lottie with him, and two seconds later they’re all back in the menacing murder mansion, breathing hard and trying not to let it show too much.

“Search for weapons and a good hiding spot, I’ll call Thatcher.” Valenti is already accessing his speed dial while Gian assures an increasingly worried Lottie to remain calm. The dog in Jojo’s arms is struggling, yet he will not put her back down and endanger her precious life.

Shay and Ivan spread out, the Irishman rifling through the ceiling-less room while the other man checks out the kitchen, everyone side-eyeing the stairs in case they get unexpected company.

“Come on, pick up, old man”, mutters Valenti as he wanders around, phone glued to his ear. Jojo can hear the dial tone and has never cursed Thatcher for his refusal to properly use smartphones more. “Shay, make sure you don’t -”, and then he’s suddenly cut off by a shriek and metal rattling, and the last thing Jojo sees of Valenti is the look of terror in his face as he suddenly falls upwards. Almost in slow-motion, their only phone, their lifeline is yanked from him by gravity, and though Shay, the hero, dives towards it, he’s too slow. The device clatters to the ground and slips through the floorboards probably straight into the basement.

When Jojo steps into the large room with its impossibly high ceiling, it’s immediately obvious what happened: someone must’ve placed a trap of some sorts, a thick chain is wrapped around both of Valenti’s legs and he’s dangling in the air several metres above ground, struggling to break free.

“What the fuck”, says Jojo. Not even Gian complains about the cursing this time.

.

“We cannot rule out possibility whoever is here wants to harm…” Ivan indicates a half circle for ‘rainbow’ so Lottie doesn’t hear anything she’s not supposed to hear, and presumably because it’s funny when Shay is lagging behind in the conversation.

“Personally, I believe the likelihood to be low. This location has yet to be associated with us.”

“Yeah”, Jojo agrees with Gian, “I don’t think that’s it.”

“Oh, you mean Rainbow?”, Shay chimes in, beaming. “Well, we can ask Sledge when we find him. Right now, we should get the phone back and untie Valenti.”

Neither of them dared to ask whether the body in Sledge’s car was the man himself, but Shay’s unshakeable optimism is contagious – he saw it and seems to be wholly convinced their superior is somewhere in the building, so it couldn’t have been him who’s dead. Right?

Right.

“Good plan.” Valenti’s voice is strained as he dangles from the ceiling, having given up and letting his arms hang down like leaves from a sad plant. “Two of you should go into the murder basement to see whether you can find my phone. The other two take Lottie and Diana and come upstairs to help me. If there’s a crazy axe murderer hiding anywhere, it’ll be downstairs with all the blood, so you should be fine up here.”

“Reassuring”, mutters Jojo. “I’m not letting her out of my sight, so I’ll go up. Hang in there.”

“I shall do the same.”

“We will check out basement then. I found no useful weapon but chair leg, so it will have to do.”

It becomes clear pretty quickly that whereas Jojo is concerned with Diana’s safety, Gian was actually talking about the girl for some reason which suits Jojo just fine. He’s been training his body for exactly two purposes: impress hot guys and carry dogs, and one out of two is not bad. They all wish each other luck before they split up and the second Jojo sets a foot on the stairs leading to the top floor, he runs face first into some spider webs.

“Relax, this is nothing I haven’t heard from my dad before”, Lottie assures Gian who looks like he wants to stuff something in Jojo’s mouth to keep him from cursing any more.

They fall silent at an odd noise coming from their destination and exchange a few warning glances. No doubt if anyone else is occupying the house, they’ll be well aware of the recruits’ presence by now yet have decided not to show themselves for what can only be assumed a sinister reason. Gian is leading them with Lottie following closely behind, Jojo at the back – whichever direction they might be attacked from, the teen won’t be the first to suffer.

Wallpaper is peeling off revealing discoloured stone, stirred-up dust covers the insides of their lungs and an unpleasant smell is creeping into their nostrils. There are footprints of various sizes which betray more than one person who’s been here. Still no sign of Sledge. A narrow corridor greets them upstairs with an uncomfortable amount of entryways branching off, gaping frames without doors. Without speaking, Jojo passes the now well-behaved corgi to Lottie, in case he’ll need his hands, and they sneak forward peeking into each room they pass. It’s a similar chaos to downstairs and Jojo idly wonders whether Sledge has actually done anything with this place yet.

A muffled scream comes from downstairs, causing them to twitch, nerves raw, fingers itching to do something. Gian shakes his head: didn’t sound like a signal of distress, probably an involuntary reaction to something. If they needed help in the basement, it would’ve sounded differently and Jojo nods in agreement. Still, he doesn’t like it, not one bit. The hairs on the back of his neck are standing up and he expects something to happen very soon. He makes sure they keep away from windows as much as they can; who knows who shot at them outside, whether it was at least two people making sure their tyres were flat so they couldn’t leave, who might be trying to pick them off one by one.

It’s quiet again. Gian is visibly tense, as is Lottie who seems to be petting Diana to calm herself down instead of the good-natured dog.

The hallway makes an L shape and as they round the corner, they’re confronted with a reassuring sight at the end of it: though the floor is missing towards the back, they do see the upside down Valenti greeting them with overt relief. Jojo notes that he can’t spot where the chain is fastened keeping the Frenchman suspended, however, so they’ll have to take a closer look.

On the way to their helpless friend, they peek into the last remaining door yet only spot a large pile-up of furniture and deem it safe enough – they don’t have any time to waste, the earlier they’re out of here, the better. Cautiously, Gian inches towards the ripped-up floor from where it’s a drop straight down into the living room, and inspects the metal wrapped around Valenti’s calves. It soon becomes obvious that he’s too far away to reach him – and before either of them can decide what to do next, a sudden noise freezes Jojo’s blood in his veins.

This time, it does sound like a scream for help. And it’s coming from none other than Shay.

“Fuck”, he hisses and turns around; screw Valenti, he’s not in immediate danger as it is, and he suddenly hears the footsteps, only much too late – fast, heavy footsteps, and then he collides with what might as well have been a solid wall. Stumbling back, Jojo can’t believe his eyes: a massive figure has emerged from the one room they couldn’t check properly, of course, he should’ve known it’d bite him in the ass. It’s a mountain of a man, clad in blood-stained clothes with a hockey mask and a fucking chainsaw and if this sight hadn’t instantly activated Jojo’s fight-or-flight response, he’d have laughed at how cliché it is.

Right now, he doesn’t think it’s cliché. He thinks he may actually die today.

With an animalistic roar, the man revs up the chainsaw and begins advancing towards them, and all Jojo can think about is how to get Diana out of here, and Lottie too maybe, and that he can’t remember what the last thing he said to Shay was. Charging a giant with a functioning chainsaw must be about the stupidest thing he’s ever done, but it’s the only chance he’ll get: if he uses the element of surprise, the others might be able to escape.

Valenti is yelling something as is Gian, yet Jojo hears nothing, ducks under the first, slow swipe of the deadly weapon and grabs the man’s arm, tries to slam him against the wall and barely manages to even stumble him. A furious growl comes from the throat of the beast but it’s enough time for Lottie to slip past – Gian must’ve had a hand in her instant escape, or she’s much braver than she ought to be. Once she’s out of Jojo’s peripheral vision, he’s kneed in the side and nearly goes down from the blow before another hand joins his own in pinning the murderer in place.

“Go”, Gian pants, “Jojo, go.”

He doesn’t have to say it again. Together, they shove their attacker back and book it, Jojo in front nearly slipping on bits of loose cardboard or plaster or whatever strewn around, not looking back to see whether they’re being pursued. He’s sure of it anyway. He rushes down the stairs just as he hears another blood-curdling scream behind him. He can’t go back. Civilians first, always, they know the risk.

Always.

Turning a corner, once again he runs into someone and takes a second to recognise Shay who looks much worse for wear and roughly how Jojo feels right now: terrified, dishevelled, wide-eyed. “Ivanko’s gone”, he stammers, barely intelligible, “he just – he fell down a hole and I couldn’t – I don’t know what happened, I heard you guys and ran -”

Jojo spots Lottie right behind Shay, which is something at least. Diana wags her tail slightly. For a second, Jojo’s vision almost goes black with how incredibly relieved he is to see his best friend alive. “Do you have the phone?”

Shay holds up the device, screen cracked. “Still works. Can we go outside? We could get shot at.”

Good point. Jojo’s mind is racing. There’s no world in which he’s subjecting a teenaged girl to the dangers of a psychopath with a chainsaw, but it’s also unthinkable to run outside when there’s the threat of getting gunned down instead. “I’ll go first. If I’m fine, you follow after me. I saw another cabin on the way here, if we make it there and call for help, we should be good.”

“What about the others?”

A simple shake of the head. Too risky. They can come back once they’re sure Diana and Lottie are safe. Shay accepts his judgement with a curt nod and hurries after the German, stopping a bit short of the front door, eyes glued to where their attacker might emerge. Jojo takes a deep breath, slams the door open and -

And, uh.

… and nearly hurts himself trying to make sense of what he’s seeing.

Two smug grins are directed at him, plastered on familiar faces of familiar figures leaning against the car that brought them here. “Hi”, says Smoke, and winks at him.

Jojo doesn’t get it immediately, the adrenaline rush too powerful, so he blurts out: “Be fucking careful, you loons, you could get shot!”

“Or murdered by a crazy man with a chainsaw?”, Mute replies, joyfully, and it’s slowly sinking in.

He can’t fucking believe these guys. “Wh – are you serious? Did you do this?!”

“That’ll teach you to mess with our equipment.”

And it looks like Smoke would have more to say, except Lottie appears in the doorway and squeaks out a delighted: “Dad!”

It takes about one second after catching his daughter in his arms for Smoke to switch from surprised to deeply, utterly homicidal and Jojo connects the dots much too late, once more.

Of course. He knows Smoke’s daughter is called Charlie, which is likely shortened from Charlotte, which can also be shortened to Lottie, and she even said her dad is friends with Sledge. It makes so much sense now. No wonder she got permission to walk Diana.

No wonder Smoke is staring at him like he wants to use Jojo’s guts as Halloween decorations now. They kidnapped his daughter and brought her straight to a murder mansion. This is worse than the time they accidentally kidnapped Diana. This is so much worse.

Looks like today will be the day Jojo dies after all.

Behind him, Shay speaks up, confused: “Wait, if they’re all fine, whose body is in Sledge’s trunk then?”

~*~

Thatcher looks so fucking done.

His office is absolutely crowded as it’s not meant to hold ten people, so they’re all awkwardly seated in random places. There’s a dead house plant tickling Jojo’s neck but he’s not going to risk complaining. Thatcher’s threat of tossing his tea at the first person who speaks without permission does not feel like an empty one, seeing as he’s shaking with silent rage so much that he’s nearly spilling his Twinings. He takes a sip, places the cup on his overflowing desk, and fixes them with a level stare, one by one. The recruits first, then Smoke and Mute, then Sledge (and Jojo has never witnessed the man look this sheepish before), and Charlie gets a grim half-smile which she reciprocates to the best of her abilities. Though she’s unlikely to receive a bollocking, even she fidgets with something, clearly unnerved. Thatcher’s presence does that to everyone, especially when he’s mad.

And he’s very mad.

“I don’t even bloody care what happened”, he starts and silences several people with a single look as soon as they open their mouths. “But you idiots seem to, so it’s my duty to clear it up. What even led to this nonsense?”

Sledge is the first to speak up, voice even and composed. He seems ready to face judgement. “I was told the recruits had faked their time sheets. Recorded all kinds of exercises without ever doing them.”

“We didn’t!”, Valenti explodes instantly. “What?! We’d never do that! We have never done that!!”

“Shut up, Jean. And why did you not come to me to talk about it? That’s a serious accusation and, if true, a serious offence.”

The Scotsman hesitates. “We would have had to throw them out.”

Jojo’s jaw drops. Not because it’d be news to him that a misdemeanour like that could be the end of their career in Rainbow, no, that part is crystal clear, but – if he understands correctly, the implication is -

“And you wanted to avoid that?”

“I wanted to avoid that, aye.”

By now, all five recruits are gaping at their superior in disbelief. With how much Sledge has complained about them in the past, how they feel like he’s picking on them specifically, this is absolutely unthinkable. He wanted to protect them.

“I thought we could scare some sense into them. A wake-up call, if you will.”

Thatcher is rubbing his temple. “I will not, thank you very much. Besides, that would be a show of so much favouritism. And what do we not do, Seamus?”

“Show favouritism.” Sledge’s voice is small now, much smaller than his imposing physique. Looking back, Jojo doesn’t know why he didn’t recognise him right away. It was probably the chainsaw which hindered coherent thought in the moment. “Also, we do not threaten our recruits with running chainsaws.”

“Astute. James, Mark, is that what you told Seamus because you know he’s got a soft spot for these bellends?” The two nod wordlessly. “Is it actually true?” They shake their heads. Thatcher sighs. “So what made you set this all up? Revenge for what?”

“They broke one of Mark’s jammers and buried it in the woods so we wouldn’t find out”, Smoke replies, pouting. “And they used my guns without permission. Didn’t even clean them. Plus they stole one of my babes! I still don’t know where it is.”

“We didn’t do that either, that wasn’t us! The jammer was Kapkan, the guns was Jacob Griffin-”

“Shut your gob, Jean! If you can’t wait your turn -”

“He’s right though.” Mute shrugs. “I checked the cams earlier. It wasn’t even them.”

At this, Valenti jumps up from his chair, clearly ready to sling some choice words at the two SAS operators, and only with difficulty does Gian manage to gently drag him back down. They’re all still reeling from the revelation that Sledge actually cares about them, now it turns out they’re not even in the wrong. Even better, they are the ones who were wronged! This has never happened before so neither of them knows how to deal with it: Ivanko is frowning in incredulity, Gian accepts the truth with a stoic expression (probably happy to take the high road), Shay is still open-mouthed and Valenti seethes silently. Jojo is just amazed at this turn of events. They’re going to milk this forever.

“You’re telling me you traumatised these poor lads for no reason?”, asks Thatcher, now dangerously quiet. “Them, and Charlie as well?”

“Wait, wait, wait”, Smoke cuts in angrily, “they endangered her. After randomly kidnapping her. If we’d known she was there, we obviously wouldn’t have -”

“But you did.”

“- besides, they completely fell apart, left three of them for dead, that’s great teamwork -”

“I think it’s your turn”, Thatcher finally addresses the recruits. “Tell me what happened, from the beginning.”

The five of them look at each other and then begin recounting the events from the previous day, trying not to embellish or put themselves in a better light than appropriate – each of them re-tells part of their story, adding to each other where necessary, while Charlie nods along and confirms their version.

It’s extremely satisfying to watch Smoke’s lips get thinner by the second while his better half shoots him annoyed looks.

“They didn’t make her feel very safe though”, Smoke tries one last time. “She gave them the name she’s only supposed to give suspicious people so I know something’s wrong.”

“Who do you think made me feel safer, the blokes literally ready to die for me, or Seamus attacking us like Jason Voorhees?”, his daughter snaps at him.

“Charlie, I’m really sorry”, Sledge mutters and looks it, too. She gives him a brief nod of acknowledgement.

“I don’t think I need to tell you that picking up random children off the street is wholly unacceptable and if these were different circumstances, you’d be getting a right bollocking for that. But since what the lads did to you was so unbelievably out of line, you get to choose their punishment. Unless you gloat about it, Jean, then you lose that privilege immediately.”

This is Christmas come early. Smoke might as well have bitten into a lemon, his face is so sour, and Mute rolls his eyes resignedly, but they know better than to contradict Thatcher on this. They made him an unknowing participant, which is likely why he’s being so strict with them – plus he seems to have a soft spot for Charlie. And Jojo is beginning to understand why.

Valenti turns to the other four and whispers: “I have an idea. Do you trust me?”

“Do you still trust us?”, Jojo shoots back. “We left you to die while hanging from the ceiling.”

“I mean, it was uncomfortable, but you did what you had to.”

Shay beams at him, Gian seems to share his sentiment, and even Ivan Ivanovic nods. There’s a warmth spreading in Jojo’s chest he usually experiences when he’s drunk and looking at his found family for a bit too long. “Yeah. We trust you. Go ahead.”

Triumphant, Valenti turns to a bored Thatcher and announces: “We’ll take an IOU.”

“Fuck”, grumbles Smoke right before Mute elbows him in the side, probably not for the cursing but rather because all this must’ve been his idea.

Jojo understands immediately: this is so much better than anything specific – the three SAS ops must now live in fear that at any moment, they could invoke their IOU for any reason. It’s a blank cheque. It’s nothing but pure power over the chaotic duo and even Sledge himself. It’s brilliant.

“Sure, whatever.” Thatcher waves them aside. “And you three better honour it, you hear me? I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if they refuse, you come to me, Jean. Alright?” Either resigned or gleeful nods all around, so Thatcher informs them: “And now you all better fuck off before the caffeine wears off.”

Together, they squeeze into the corridor outside with Smoke staring daggers at them, ignoring his daughter doing the same at him. Sledge, who seems to have aged by about a decade, heaves a deep sigh. “Reckon I owe you lads a drink tonight, on me.”

“We gladly accept”, Gian speaks what they’re all thinking. “Thank you for the kind offer.”

“Thank you anyway”, Ivanko adds, “that was most fun I’ve had in weeks.”

Behind them, Smoke, Mute and Charlie are trudging off, the little gremlin still ranting about something until Mute simply leans down and silences him with a smooch. Jojo quickly turns away lest the yearning befalls him again. It seeks him out more frequently these days.

As if on cue, Shay asks: “But what about the body? I still don’t know who that was.”

“Shay, dearest, it was fake”, Jojo informs him as they start walking down the hallway. “Everything was fake. Didn’t you get that?”

“Actually, the body was real”, says Sledge with amusement in his voice and just as the other four erupt into chatty disbelief, Jojo wonders how he managed to even get this job in the first place.

Not that he’d trade it for anything. Not at all.