The Ruthless Exchange: Part 2
11 Sep 2016Nickolas Calhoun
Previous ChapterThe Ruthless Exchange: Part 2
---Unknown Location---
It had been… Hell I don’t even know. There was no way of telling time. I could not tell if had been hours or days. The room was dark and an innocent woman was dead because of me. The frequent bursts of shock torture paled in comparison to the guilt I felt over Georgia’s death. When it wasn’t shock torture, it was waterboarding, fire. They had no motif other than to have me suffer as long as possible before I either broke or died, though I was sure their boss wanted to drag this out for as long as he could. My body ached and stung from all of it, and my shirt was torn to shreds and burnt.
The fucking Mafia.... Or Bratva. I don’t fucking know. That’s why the bounty on Tommy was so goddamn high.
I could feel the restraints slowly loosening. Painfully slow. Between bouts of torture I had been working on breaking free. Almost there…
The door cracked open and the leather jacket man walked in, carrying a gas welder and towing fuel canisters behind him.
“Big boss getting tired of torturing me now, huh?” I mumbled. My hands broke free of the restraints but I kept them above me.
“Viktor has other matters, he sent me in his place.”
The sound of a flint could be heard and the room lit up a dull orange as he ignited the welder.
“So now I get a turn.”
The brightness of the flame intensified as he applied oxygen to the mix, making a loud hissing sound. He turned and started heading toward me.
That’s right, just a little closer.
I grabbed onto his hands just as he was about to apply the flame to my body turning the flame towards his face. He wailed in pain as his eyes and forehead burned and he struggled to push the welder away. He let go of the welder, stumbling back as I held the flame over his eyes. His screams grew louder as his face burned. I then kicked him in the gut, sending him stumbling into the wall. I dropped the welder, leaving the flame burning while the man winced with his hands covering his mangled face. I stared at him for a moment then turned to exit the room.
That’s for Georgia, scumbag.
The corridor was dark, save for the dim blue lighting, with one or two of the lamps flickering occasionally. The air was damp and cold, much like the cell they were holding me in. The wails of pain from the burnt man echoed down the corridor as I slowly walked away, looking for a way out. I’m sure someone’ll find you soon, Buddy. I smirked. I could have finished him off then and there, but I decided to leave him at the mercy of his employers.
I came up to a large metal door, and behind it was an old mechanical elevator behind a metal gate which creaked and squeaked as I forced it open. On the metal handrail was an old style console, with large plastic up and down buttons. I’m sure these guys have a lot of money, you’d think they’d invest in something more modern.
I pressed the up button which made a loud click and illuminated a dull green. The elevator ground into motion, moving up slowly and making a lot of noise as the under maintained motors pulled the platform up the long, dark shaft, illuminated by dull lamps on the ceiling. My escape isn’t going to last long if everything I touch makes noise like this!
The elevator finally ground to a halt on the top level, closed off by another antiquated metal gate that made a loud metallic groan as I opened it. I strolled out of the elevator, coming up to yet another large metal door. I creaked it open, revealing a large warehouse. The lights of the city outside shone through the windows below the ceiling of the building, obscuring the stars in the night sky, and crates were stacked right up to the beams supporting the roof. The main entrance was wide open, my primary way out, and a cold breeze blew through the entire building.
I peeked out of the metal door, not many workers could be seen. One at the entrance. I turned around slightly. One in the middle by the large stack of crates. I averted my eyes to a small room on the opposite end of the warehouse. ...and no one over there. I darted my eyes between the main entrance and the workers. So this little escape should be easy. I looked back to the other room. But first, I need some goddamn clothes.
I crouched low, heading toward the room, being careful not to be spotted by the warehouse workers. The trek across the warehouse was easy with the lack of people around. I creaked open the door to the room, slowly peeking inside to make sure there was no one there. All clear. The room had a small desk and a PA system, with piles of paperwork and manifests for various containers. Further down was a corridor that lead to a locker room. The air inside the locker room was damp, but warm. One locker remained slightly ajar, so I peeked inside. That’s my goddamn jacket! Anger took over as I realized that some low-down dirty warehouse worker just helped himself to my stuff. Beside the jacket was a freshly ironed white shirt. Well hell. I guess he won’t mind if I take this with my jacket.
As I finished buttoning up the shirt and slipping back into my jacket, the sound of footsteps grew closer. A young warehouse worker approached from behind.
“Who the hell are you, and what do you think you are doing?” The man said, with a tinge of nerves in his voice.
I turned to him and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pinning him up against the lockers against the wall.
“Taking my shit back, asshole.” I pushed my arm against his throat.“You’re not going to tell anyone about our exchange. Right?”
In a panic, the man nodded. I released my grip against him and he took a large gasp of air.
“Good.”
“Y-you’re that bounty hunter, aren’t you? The one they captured the other day?”
I looked into his eyes, keeping my grip on his collar. “I am indeed. Now, you going to tell me where my stuff is?”
His voice quivered. “O-over down the hall in a locked room to the left.” He handed me a key card. “Here, take my key. I don’t get paid enough for this shit!”
I smiled and took his card. “Good kid.”
I held onto his collar and pushed him into the locker where my jacket was being stored. Terror took over his face before I slammed the door in front of him.
“W-what are you doing?! I did what you asked!”
“Sorry buddy, but I can’t take any risks by letting you roam around. I’m sure someone’ll let you out before long.”
The key opened the door as the kid described and a light turned on as I walked in. The door lead to a large storage closet, full of various items that looked to have been confiscated, either from workers or people they had captured. My stuff was located on a shelf in the middle of the room, surrounded by various other tidbits. All of it basically left untouched, my gun, holster, datapad and a small stash of credits.
Hell, they didn’t even take my money, I thought as I strapped the holster to my belt and loaded a clip into my gun.
Alright, time to get the hell out of here.