The Ruthless Exchange: Part 1
07 Sep 2016Nickolas Calhoun
OOC: I'd highly recommend reading The Slippery Bastard Who Got Away first.The Ruthless Exchange: Part 1
---Unknown Location---
I woke up in an unfamiliar place. My body ached and my head was sore. I squinted my eyes to try and focus and figure out where I was. The room was dark and grey. I was laying down on a small bed with a thin mattress and no blankets. There was a sink and a toilet and bars separating me from the corridor. The ambient whirring of ship systems was prevalent.
Son of a bitch.
I checked my head for bumps. No… If I had been knocked cold from a head injury, I’d likely have brain damage.
I couldn’t remember anything. Last I could remember was walking down somewhere on Wohler Terminal then… nothing. Yet there I was, in some kind of make-shift holding cell on board a starship.
I slowly sat myself up on the bed of the cell, got up and dragged myself to the bars to try and get a look out of the corridor. Outside, a man in a leather jacket armed with a rifle stood guard. There didn’t appear to be anyone else around. I rattled the bars, trying to get the man’s attention.
“Hey, buddy. You wanna tell me what the hell is going on in here?”
The man turned to me, startled and muttered something under his breath before approaching my cell.
“You shut up in there!”
I looked at the man in the eye. “It seems only fair that you-”
“I said shut the fuck up in there!” He yelled, pointing his rifle at me. “I’m supposed to make sure you stay alive, but no one said I can’t injure you a bit.”
“And who exactly are you working for?” I tried to ask, before he jabbed me in the chest with the butt of his rifle.
“Don’t push me, bounty hunter! Shut up or I’ll hit you in the jaw next time!”
Is he a fed? No… He’d be in uniform if he were.
With no way of telling the time, I had no idea how long I had been in the cell. My mouth was beginning to get dry and boredom was starting to seep in. The guard outside had since left and been replaced by another, wearing a white shirt with suspenders and slacks and armed with a similar rifle as the previous guard. He tapped on the bars to get my attention.
“Look alive, we’re almost there,” he said with a mild slavic accent.
I approached the cell door and leaned on the bars. I frowned at the man.
“And where exactly is ‘there’?”
His face turned to a menacing smile. “That is not important, however someone very important wants to have a word with you.”
My eyebrow raised. “Who?”
“Enough questions. You will see soon enough.”
I slammed my hand against the bar. “You son of a bitch! You thugs threw me in here. Tell me what the fuck is going on!”
“I have no obligation to tell you, but I will say this- It will not be so good for you.”
I sighed and retreated back to the bed, sitting down and staring out of the cell.
I’m getting real sick of these games.
Many long moments passed and I remained seated or lying down on the bed for the most part. I was beginning to get very antsy. I heard the rattling of keys approach. The guard with the leather jacket had returned and was unlocking the cell door, while his companion pointed his rifle at me.
“We’re here,” he said as he approached me, slipping on a blindfold and putting restraints on my wrists.
“Woah, easy now buddy. Do you need to be so rough?” I complained.
“Shut up and walk, bounty hunter!”
I felt the man hoist me to my feet and shove me forward. I could hear the tell-tale sound of a ship’s entry ramp lowering and I was marched down. The ambience was then filled with the sounds of a docking bay.
Things went quiet as we entered a room and I heard the door closing behind us. I was pushed against something solid and someone restrained my hands above me. I tried to move my arms but they were tied pretty tight. I could hear the slow footsteps of someone approaching me.
“I guess you’re the welcoming party,” I said with a snide tone. “This is some welcome indeed.”
The blindfold was cut off and the fabric dropped to the floor. Staring back at me was an older gentleman, dressed in a black tailored suit with a white shirt beneath. His skin was wrinkled and his grey eyes had cold gaze that pierced right into your soul, while his white hair was barely visible against his scalp. The room was dark and cold, with only a single overhead light illuminating everything.
“Nickolas Calhoun, is it?” he said in a deep Slavic accent.
“That’s my name, yes,” I responded.
The man started slowly pacing in front of me, keeping his gazed fixed on me.
“Yes, you have managed to have quite an impression, and they say a first impression is always the most important.”
My brow furrowed. “Do you have a point behind that?”
The man reached into his blazer’s pocket, pulling out a photograph.
“Tell me, Calhoun. You know this man?” He asked as he positioned the photo in front of me.
Son of a…
“I see by your expression that you do. You should, Calhoun.” He resumed pacing.
“I may have encountered him once or twice.”
He turned away, stopping his pacing for a moment. “Yes, encounters. Resulted in the death of Tommy Rosenberg, the man in this photo.”
I remained silent.
“Your silence says all. You are the man responsible for his death. I do not like you kill this man. You know why?” He turned back to face me.
“A friend of yours?”
“He was my nephew. A good man. Gets things done. Efficient, you might say. Like a son to me, he was - after his father passed on.”
His expression grew more fierce as he resumed pacing.
“He was also in-line to take over from me, should my time in this galaxy be up.”
I frowned further. “What are you? Some kind of mafia?”
His face turned to a menacing smile. “You are meaning Bratva, I think, but you are observant. Could be quite useful to Rosenberg family, if not for killing my nephew.”
I scoffed. “If the pay was good.”
His smile maintained. “Yes, a man of business. Life is full of transactions. Exchanges. Which brings me to our little exchange.”
He raised a comm device to his face. “Bring her in, comrade.”
The door hissed as it opened. The guard with the leather jacket from the prison cell walked in, pushing a woman in front of him with a cloth bag over her head and her arms restrained behind her. I looked toward her, hearing her incoherent weeping as she struggled against the guard. The bag was pulled off her head revealing…
Georgia!
She looked at me, fear in her eyes growing. “Nickolas... “
“What the fuck has she got to do with any of this?!” I yelled.
The suited man turned back toward me. “I see this woman is of importance to you, no?”
He approached Georgia, stroking her tear-soaked cheek gently. “Yes, such a pretty woman too. It is a shame.”
“You leave her out of this you asshole!”
The man walked toward me again. “I’m afraid I cannot. She is important to this exchange. Business, you see.”
He nodded toward the guard in the leather jacket, who raised a pistol to Georgia’s head. Her weeping grew louder and a wave of helplessness engulfed me.
“Don’t you fucking dare, I swear to God…” I yelled.
The suited man turned back to me again.
“Mr. Calhoun. You take something dear away from me.”
My heart sank when I realized that there was no changing his intentions.
“Now, I take something away from you.”
He snapped his fingers as he turned and walked toward the door of the room.
Georgia looked to me once more, tears streaming down her face. “Nickolas, I’m sorry.”
“You son of a bitch!”
There was a loud bang, and Georgia’s body fell to the floor, blood pooling below her head wound.
"Now you see, Mr. Calhoun, that death has consequence." He turned back around, slowly walking toward me.
"That is all for now, but I be back soon." He approached me close giving me a large, chilling smile. "Our business is not concluded."
He turned and strode out of the room, the guard following him close behind. The door closed behind them.