What if you fly?

This is why Khalid was a thief and not a mastermind because he didn’t know what to do. On one hand, the text glowing on his phone was an obvious lie. But should Khalid contradict it? There were so many problems with that and Khalid wasn’t sure he wanted too. Not with how armed and willing they were to kill.  He heard the shuffling as Mickey was pushed away and Khalid made a call. Swallowing down the guilt, he sent out texts.

He couldn’t contradict Mickey and he hoped the young linguist would live through this choice. No, he had to believe Mickey would make it through this. Once they were out of this, Khalid knew he would be making it up to the younger man for a long time coming.  

Taking an extra moment to make sure no one was in the security room and he could no longer hear anyone, Khalid began quietly attempting to unlatch the vent hatch so he could drop down into the room below.

Khalid thanked his luck that the vent cover popped open into the room below. He dropped down and looked around the security room, to see if they had left anything behind when they had left with Mickey while heading over to the door. He partially closed the door and then walked back over to the cameras. 

a god-given sixty seconds … or I’m a fuckin’ human body-shield.

the man’s——–  Aedan’s?——–  direction had been clear enough. get us a way out of here, or you’re our way out. and just by simply knowing where the other personnel on the other crews had been positioned … he’d known —- or made a good-ass assumption —- where the others were.

Bas and Rhi, hired security, outside. Mais and—-  and Athena, valets, outside.

get us a way out of here, or——–

so Mickey had sent out an SOS text. an SOS that was a lie. just … any kind of lie, to get who he figured to be outside away from those cars, away from that damn gravel driveway, because Aedan had said ::

We gotta perfectly right path out tae th’ drive right ‘ere. 

he’s an okay grifter, but he’s not Parker. not his beloved Dallas ( Dal, Dal, you call him Dal, don’t lose yourself in this moment——– ), not remotely close to the legend that is Kitty Hirata. subconsciously, his eyes drift up towards the HVAC ducting——–  is Khalid there?  can he hear?  does he know?

he feels cold metal being pushed into his spine; it’s the size and diameter of the barrel of a gun, and his blood chills.

This is why Khalid was a thief and not a mastermind because he didn’t know what to do. On one hand, the text glowing on his phone was an obvious lie. But should Khalid contradict it? There were so many problems with that and Khalid wasn’t sure he wanted too. Not with how armed and willing they were to kill.  He heard the shuffling as Mickey was pushed away and Khalid made a call. Swallowing down the guilt, he sent out texts.

He couldn’t contradict Mickey and he hoped the young linguist would live through this choice. No, he had to believe Mickey would make it through this. Once they were out of this, Khalid knew he would be making it up to the younger man for a long time coming.  

well, fuck my life.

that was pretty much the only thing running through Mickey’s head as he heard what he believed to be the sound of——–  some kinda firearm being cocked behind him?  it’s not like he was a hitter, not like he had experience with this sort of thing. and even if he was :: there was a clearly irate female behind him, and three men staring at him from inside the Security Room with a mixture of astonishment and … well, whatever else it was, it wasn’t anything good.

man. he didn’t like these odds, even if he was Rhi, or Omar, or Bas. hell, maybe not even if he was all three combined.

“ jus’ here to get some wine for dinner, “ he smiled, trying his best to look casual —- but there was a light quiver to his words that felt genuine—-  fuck, it was genuine, what else could he do with a goddamn gun pointed at the back of his skull?  at least his fear was authentic, but right now he felt small. powerless. and he hated it.

“ an’ I’m Princess Meghan Markle, “ came the sarcastic retort from the woman behind him —- fuck, he wished he could turn around to glare at her. if nothing else, he was glad that Khalid was at least somewhere in the ducts, and he sent up a silent prayer to the Bobrovskova thief. don’t betray me. don’t bring attention to yourself. just lie low. for fuck’s sake, don’t startle the woman, I don’t wanna end up lookin’ like a plate of leftover spaghetti.

” well, “ came Aedan’s slow drawl.  “ we gotta figure out what tae do wi’ ‘im, then. don’t particularly enjoy blood m’self, so if ye wanna add ‘im tae tonight’s body-count … “

“ wait, wait, “ came the linguist’s voice, a little more desperate than he wanted it to be. keep ‘em placid. keep ‘em thinking they’re in control. don’t get yourself shot. fuck, don’t get yourself shot. eso es jodido!  “ c’mon, fellas, lady. like it or not, we’re all trapped here now, together. how ‘bout I help you get out, eh?  with that prize of yours? “  Khalid can hear all of this, right?  is he gonna think I’m betraying everyone?

… am I betraying everyone?

Eyes closing in disbelief and despair, he listened to Mickey’s attempt at trying to get out of this situation and the subsequent failure that followed. Khalid was no Omar in terms of fighting and even he wouldn’t want his best friend to walk into this situation unaware. 

At Mickey’s bid to assist them, Khalid hoped they accepted it. He knew Mickey needed to stay alive and his desperate plea was a good plan. The crews could use it. Just stay alive, Fitz. 

 Khalid was glad his phone had already been out, the phone light dimmed and the phone on silent. It meant he could tell them, inform them all without worrying about making extra noise at this moment.  Taking a moment to send out the messages, Khalid kept most of his attention on what was happening below him.