Chapter 49: Insanity

Finch’s feet were sore and his lungs burned long before he was stuffed into the back of a large vehicle, his head covered with a sack. He knew his brother was with him for the first part of the rushed retreat by No Limits, but he had no way to know if the might have been separated. He was so tired that he didn’t fight the sleep which demanded his attention once the vehicle started moving.

He woke to darkness, unsure at first if it was the bag on his head or not. Finch listened a moment. He didn’t seem to be moving, but was fairly certain he was still in the back of the vehicle. Sitting up, light coming in through a fold in the head covering, Finch tested his restraints, hoping the headache pounding between his ears might subside. His wrists were on fire, locked behind him, his fingers almost numb and very painful. He struggled, panic rising the more he discovered no give in his bonds. His feet were free, at least and he stretched his legs and flexed them, trying to loosen up the cramps in his calves.

A door opened and rough hands grabbed his arm and yanked him from the vehicle. Finch tripped but was caught quickly, almost falling on his face. “Let’s go,” a deep male voice commanded. Finch had no choice but to go along on straining legs.

They walked for several minutes, Finch’s arm bruising under the tightly-gripping fingers. He started to groan with each step as pain built in his feet and wrists and head. Finch was pushed through a door, then moments later, pushed down onto a cushioned seat.

He was left to sit in silence, several booted steps fading off to one side of the room and disappearing from his ears.

“So what do we have for me today,” a woman’s heavily-accented voice said just as Finch heard more booted steps being pounded onto the floor. The sack was ripped from his head and Finch’s eyes closed at the brightness. He squinted a moment, trying to adjust, and slowly, he was able to get a look at the woman in the room with him.

She was modest height and weight, short dark-red hair, black body suit covering her tightly. “My, my,” she said, “what a pretty little one.”

“Wh-where am I?” Finch sputtered, his throat parched.

“Out of the way ... for now. You’re one of her boys?”

“Huh?”

“The Lebanese bitch. The one that asshole stole away from me.”

Finch assumed she meant her mother by the Lebanese description, but who the asshole was, he had no idea. He remained silent.

“I already know,” her thick voice snapped, “you’re Finch. What a silly name. Are you a bird, pretty one?”

“I’m named from a book.”

“Silly name,” she repeated. “Now your brother, on the other hand, he’s got a strong name. You got the girly one.”

“Fuck off,” he muttered. “Where’s Logan?”

“Somewhere else. Now, what to do with you ... what to do with you ... Victor’s going to want you dead, I suspect. That’s what he would have done to your mother had he been on time, that stupid prick. I told him when to be there, and he was late. Not my fault he was late!”

“Uh...”

“I’m not so sure dead is the way I want you. I suspect there’s something in it to keep you alive ... for now. If Victor will pay me to kill you, then this is easy. I’ll make it quick, don’t fret,” she said, surely reading the panic showing on Finch’s face. “If he won’t pay, maybe Bridgewater or someone else might, returned dead or alive is no matter. You live,” she said with resolve, “for now.”

“Where’s Logan?” Finch demanded again. “Let me see him.”

“My ... For a pretty one you surely have an attitude. You know what I do to little girly boys with attitude?”

Finch remained quiet.

Her punch stung him and knocked him onto his side. It took a moment to catch his breath. Slowly he sat back up, trying to look tough but feeling tears trying to form in his eyes.

“Hmmm ... maybe I’ll keep you for my pet.” The woman’s hand slid onto Finch’s thigh, then she cupped his crotch. “Hmm,” she purred, “soft but not a bad start. I could work with this...”

A man entered the room and whispered into the woman’s ear. She nodded twice then took something from his hands. She stepped forward and stuck a needle in his arm, the sting barely registering on top of the other pain in Finch’s body. “No trouble from you for a while,” she said, pulling out the needle. Finch felt warmth spread out from the site and his aches began to recede. “Sleep, pretty one. We’ll see what your future holds when you wake...”

Finch’s awareness faded away.

The car was stolen no more than ten minutes after they had landed in Bergamo, Holly’s fingers good for more than just diddling her own pussy, which she’d done for a minute or two while waiting for the jet to finish taxing far enough to let them off discretely.

They were no more than ten minutes away from the closest approach to the bunker near Tirano when Holly got word that they had a clear path. It seemed that the siege had been quickly lifted thanks to the surprising arrival of an M1 force previously stationed in Salzburg.

“Bad news, Gene,” Holly said after receiving the update in her earpiece.

The tone of her voice told Gene it was something personal to him. “Tell me.”

“During the attack ... it seems No Limits got Finch. M1 force is tracking them, but so far, no luck.”

“Fuck!” Gene spat. “Bridgewater ... Your father swore to me they’d be safe.”

“I don’t know the details, Gene. I’m sorry ... but I’ve got more...”

“Go on,” Gene growled through gritted teeth.

“Logan is missing...”

Gene’s heart sank and his excitement from his imminent reunion with his kids disappeared into heartbreak and frustration. Holly placed her hand over Gene’s and tightened her fingers around his. “I’m really sorry, Gene. We’ll be there soon. We’ll go after them ourselves, if we need to.”

“You better fucking believe I will.”

“We will.”

“You have better things to do, Holly, than chase after my family with me. M1 depends on you. Your father depends on you.”

She was silent a moment, her speed picking up the closer they got to the bunker. Then she said firmly, “I choose my priorities now, Gene. I’m done sacrificing everything to M1, or for my father. If you’re going after your sons ... I’m going, too...”

He looked at her, ready to protest again, but he saw the truth in her eyes. Holly was decided. Gene’s happiness was important to her, and if his kids were in danger, she would be there to get them out. It softened, just a touch, the bitter blow to their arrival.

Minutes later, they were inside the bunker. Anna met them and hustled them into a small room. “Coffee?” she offered as Gene sweated and paced.

He shook his head, then changed his mind. “I need it, yes.”

“Me, too,” Holly added.

“Talk to me, Anna. What the fuck happened?”

“I’m guessing you mean Finch and Logan.” Anna briefed them on Finch’s task and how he was taken quickly at during a surprise breach, then described Logan’s mission, the lost comms, and the inability to track him down afterwards. She wasn’t convinced he was anywhere but stuck in the tight accesses leading up to the intake. The were flying in an agent who was notoriously short and slender who could possibly work her way through the system, but that was hours out. “He’ll be fine if he doesn’t do anything desperate and panic. If he’s still in there, we’ll find him.”

“And if he’s not?” Gene asked.

“Then ... there’s an access point he could have taken near the intake ... he would have been right in the path of the No Limits retreat...”

“So he’s probably taken, as well ... or dead...”

Anna shook her head, “We don’t know anything right now. We’ve got a team in rapid pursuit. We’ll get them back, Gene.”

Gene cursed under his breath, downing the lukewarm coffee in two gulps. “Another,” he demanded.

Anna refilled his cup.

“They were supposed to be kept safe, Anna. Why the fuck were they put in danger?”

“Because we were all in danger, Gene! If Major Danielson hadn’t showed up out of nowhere, we were stretched pretty thin already. The enemy would have been inside the bunker. We couldn’t tell the kids that, they would have freaked out, but that’s the truth. If they had found that intake, we’d have been killed with a bit of gas and a short wait. We lost almost three dozen soldiers in the time between the comms going down and getting those radios out. Finch saved lives, and so did Logan. I hate that we’ve let them get taken, Gene. Every one of my men are important to me.”

Gene growled, “My children are not your men.”

“No ... I mean ... I take it personally. I care. I give a shit, Gene! I know you’re angry. Be angry! We’re doing our best to get them back.”

“I want to know everything. Give me a full brief. I’m going after my boys.”

“Gene,” Holly cautioned gently, her fingers on his arm, “that’s not a good idea right now...”

“You told me you would go if I went, on the way here you said—”

Holly turned him towards her, “Look at me. If you walked out right now, I’d follow you. But it is stupid for the two of us to try to blindly go. We have forces following them. They are far more likely to get your sons back than the two of us right now. I agree, let’s get all the details, but until we have advantage a military unit does not, we would only complicate the search.”

He started to protest, but he recognized the truth.

“Besides,” Anna said more softly, “your daughter needs you, she’s ... sleeping.”

Gene didn’t like the hesitation in her statement.

His eyes narrowed until Anna explained, “I ... gave her a sedative ... she was freaking out after we got word about Finch ... she’s exhausted ... overwhelmed right now. She needed sleep...”

“She was inconvenient, you mean...”

“She was about to become a danger to herself and others,” Anna hissed less gently, “I did what I had to do, Gene. She’s safe.”

“You’re one for three, Anna,” Gene snapped. “One for three. I expected better from you with my kids...”

Anna started to shout her reply, but Gene watched as she swallowed it, then calmed herself before saying, “We’ll have a full brief in about two hours. We’re still gathering information. I’ll send for you.” She turned and left the room, only sounds of Gene’s deep, angry breathing heard over the low hum of the ventilation.”

“Sorry, Gene...” Holly said, taking his hand, “Let’s just figure out what to do next, okay? I know you want to go after them ... but right now, we’re not in a position to help.”

“I know. Fuck!” He steamed a moment, then said, “I need to go see my daughter.”

Holly nodded, then leaned up to kiss him. Gene let her linger long enough to take a bit of sting out of his anger, then he wrapped her in an embrace and parted his lips, pushing the kiss to the next level.

“I need you right now,” he told her. “Thank you for helping see me through this...”

“Always...”

“I’m going to go see Lauren. Coming?”

“You go,” Holly replied, “I’m going to talk to Anna about her manners...”

Logan woke with his world on fire. Everything was spitting flames into his nervous system. Arms, legs, eyes, fingers. The pain meant he could feel his fingers again, so there was that. They’d been numb before when they were bound behind his back. The fact that he could feel them was a good sign, right? He was no longer tied up, no bag over his head. Instead, he seemed to be on a bed.

The light was dim in the room, but it still was painful to open his eyes. The room was small, narrow. More narrow than a normal room. The bed wasn’t a bed but an especially soft chair. A glance out a curved window showed that he was on an airplane, somewhere over the water.

He’d been visited some time earlier, before being put on the plane, by a red-haired woman with an odd accent. Logan recalled being stuck with a needle, but beyond that point, he remembered nothing.

It wasn’t much of a surprise to see the door at the front of the room open to show the woman walking inside. “Well,” she said in accented-English, “I didn’t expect you would be awake before we arrived...”

Logan stared at her, then said, “What’s going on?”

She smiled wickedly, saying, “I’m about to be a very rich woman again...” She knelt down a few feet from where Logan sat wearily on the bed. “Seems Victor was only too-eager for you and your brother to join him. We’ll meet him shortly, don’t you worry, little man.”

Logan groaned in pain as he tried to focus on finding a way to escape. Given that they were currently in the air, it seemed unlikely there was any chance until they had landed.

“Where is my brother?”

“Oh, he’s aboard, but you’ll not see him until we’ve arrived. Don’t worry, little man,” the woman scowled, “I haven’t hurt him ... much...”

Logan felt panic a moment, then did his best to remember that he was a hero, and heroes never panicked. “You’ll pay for this...” he said in as menacing a tone as he could muster. “I won’t hurt you ... much...”

The woman cackled, her head tossed back a moment before she stood and told him, “You have that backwards, I’m afraid. I’m being paid for this. I missed cashing in on your mother. I won’t make the same mistakes this time.”

“My mother?! Where is she?”

“Tsk-tsk,” the woman chided, “too many questions for such a little man in no position to ask questions.”

“Where is she?!” Logan growled.

Her eyes showed a sinister delight when she answered, “Dead ... most likely. I wouldn’t worry too much about her anymore, little man. I suspect that, if she still lives, she wishes to be dead, I assure you.”

Logan’s head swam and he fell back onto the bed, groaning.

“Your brother is a girly boy, unlike you. You, I see potential. Maybe if Victor doesn’t kill you ... I might like to take you as a pet. My little trained monkey. Oh, what fun we would have ... if he doesn’t kill you...” She left the room and closed the door. He heard a click which sounded like a lock being engaged.

Logan put his feet down in attempt to stand, instead toppling forward and banging his knees hard on the thinly-carpeted floor. He groaned and tried to rise, slowly able to get himself back into his seat on the bed. Logan breathed heavily from what should have been a minor effort.

He began to feel overwhelmingly weary again, and despite his attempts to remain awake, he slid back under a thick mental cloud and fell asleep.

Tamara’s claustrophobia was getting more distressing, the sensation of being trapped made worse every time she thought about how much water must be above the submarine. There was no escape, no reprieve, only a small room, a smaller cockpit, a toilet, and Haul. Tamara had rummaged through the slender closet, finding little of interest until she uncovered a three-inch square steel box.

Tamara flipped the small, thin lid and discovered several tiny miniatures, perhaps a dozen in all, a platform, possibly a game board, underneath. She picked up a couple of the little statues. The bases of the miniatures were triangular in shape, beveled edges carefully carved along each side, uneven, looking much like the irregular side of a key but in a circular shape. One of those in her hand was a dalmatian, colored in perfect black and white. The other was what Tamara thought looked like a doorknob or, maybe some sort of lamppost, orange and yellow and brown, the brushstrokes so perfect that Tamara couldn’t see any flaws. She shrugged, putting the items back in the box and sticking it in her pocket. Perhaps, if she needed a distraction, she’d figure out how to play the game.

Or, it might be fun to make Haul try to swallow them.

She slept some up front in the cockpit but the seats were not made to recline and the effect of the downtime on her energy and mindset was not positive. She rose from the cockpit and unlocked the door to the room behind her.

Haul was still tied securely. Tamara checked him again, then sat on the edge of the bed a moment before kneeling down and removing Haul’s gag. “What’s in this for you, Charles? People you want dead? Is that your only goal?”

Haul looked haggard and pale. Despite his pallor and broken voice, he spat, “Seeing you dead at the end would be a priority at this point.”

“Get over it,” she replied, returning to the bed, “I’m not helping you with that one. You need me for now, at least if you still expect to get your revenge, or justice, or whatever it is you’re after.”

“Indeed,” he said much more weak than he’d been an hour earlier, “but that won’t stay the case for long ... Once the Mantis has you, I’ll be free, and I’ll be waiting for him to finish his job...”

Tamara ignored his threats, instead saying, “You lied about us, didn’t you ... that was just a mindfuck...”

Haul laughed and quickly sputtered into a fit of coughing, then replied, “I never lie about women who have fucked me, Tamara. I don’t need to. Who am I to impress? What is it to me? My cleverness does not extend to the bedroom, and I’ve had little use for such trifling moments in my life. It was pity that led me to indulge you, nothing more.”

“Pity ... Bullshit.”

Haul stared at her with cruelty, his skin so pale she could see his veins all over his neck and forehead. “Don’t blame me for the sorry state of your marriage, Tamara. Gene was the womanizer, not me. Blame him for pushing you into my bed.”

Tamara threw up her hands. “Enough. I’m not buying it.” She didn’t admit, however, that something tugged at her thoughts as if there was, somewhere in Haul’s words, a nugget of truth. Tamara retied the gag, then pulled back her arm and punched the man’s cheek hard. He gasped through the gag and gave a satisfying whimper.

She only partially regretted it when she felt the pain in her knuckles and saw that two of them were slowly bleeding. Closing herself in the cockpit, she leaned back and tried to still her mind. An impossible task as she was drawing ever so much closer to the torturer waiting at the end of this journey.