Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. If I did, do you really think I'd be writing fanfic?
A hand reached up to brush the dripping locks out of his eyes, looking around for the men who'd been chasing them. It was dark and dry in the tunnel, but one could never be too careful. The blonde could hear the faint echo of footsteps, of black combat boots splashing through the puddles. Then, nothing. It was quiet, save for the heavy drum of rain. Jeff smiled, relieved; they were safe.
As if hearing his thoughts, a radio chirped nearby. "Turn that damn thing off, Montgomery," a quiet voice whispered, "Do you want them to hear us coming?"
Damn. Jeff rolled over, pressing himself against the wall, hoping that it was enough to avoid capture. A bright light shone on his face proved him wrong. Jumping up, Jeff ran past the officer, pushing him to the ground as he did so. "Go! Go! Go!" he cried to the rest of his team, causing them to leap out from various hiding spots and sprint towards the end of the tunnel. The alleys were their last hope. While the agents were (generally) skilled in combat, Jeff and his team knew the back streets of the city. They had to, if they wanted to survive.
It wasn't until the last of his crew made it through the warehouse door that Jeff was able to breathe again. "Nice work today, guys," he said, a trace of a smile on his face, "A little bit of a close call, but good job." He nodded smartly, dismissing the boys before him.
"What do you mean 'They escaped'?" a loud voice boomed through a megaphone.
Nick stepped back from his boss's desk timidly. "I-I'm sorry President Sylvester, but they're sneaky little bastards. They know the back alleys like no one else. We didn't stand a chance."
Sue slammed her hand down on her desk, "Don't gimme your filthy excuses Duval, I need those boys. They're destroying my beautiful country- calling me a dictator and what-not. What we need is…we need a-" She leaned back in her chair, a smirk twisting across her face, "We need an insider."
A look of confusion spread across Nick's face, "A what?"
"That'll be you, Duval." She ordered, "If we wanna take down those boys, we're gonna need someone on the inside. Find Public Enemy Number One, that's blondie there," she added, pulling a folder with Jeff's information out onto her desk, "and destroy him. Do whatever you have to do to learn his secrets- befriend him, talk to him, sleep with him- anything."
Nick nodded; he was no stranger doing so. As a child, the brunette had been bounced around from home to home until he finally ended up on the streets at the age of fourteen, selling his body to whoever wanted a piece.
He swallowed; it was a dangerous job, but an important one. Nick was already the youngest agent on the force, and accepting the mission could lead to a promotion. "Alright, I'll do it."