Gunslinger

Synyster Gates was annoyed.
In fact, more than annoyed. Fucking furious to be precise although the laconic smile on his face would not have given it away. He was also bleeding nicely from his nose, lip and just above his eyebrow. That particular welt had swelled his left eye almost shut and that probably annoyed him more than anything. A decent torturer did not leave you unable to see what they put in front of you or unable to speak up when asked a question and given the probable rib fractures he doubted he could even cough right now. Gates had been tortured by the best and being left with an amateur really dented his ego.
The thug hesitated, unused to being smiled at by the person he was beating the shit out of. This one was different, not the usual small town dealer or late paying businessman that the boss normally put in front of him. The man handcuffed to the chair was all muscle and he had been told not to take any risks and on no account let him loose or take any chances. Which annoyed the goon as he would rather have had a bat and the pretty boy on the floor.
Gates puffed out a gasp of pained air as the thug hit him again, he swore he had heard his brain hit the side of his skull and stopped smiling. The calculations in his head would be harder if this bozo continued smacking him around so Syn painted an agonised look on his face and watched the door. Sooner or later the boss or at least someone higher up the food chain would appear to start asking questions. One more bone rattling blow to the ribs and the man seemed satisfied as Syn let his head drop onto his chest. He went out of the door and it slammed shut.
Immediately the man in the chair looked up, shaking the pain from his head and testing the shackles again for any weak points. He could hear the thug’s footsteps echoing up the corridor before another door slammed and it sounded as though the last door was wooden as opposed to the metal one in this room. There were no steps upwards so Syn had to assume he wasn’t in a basement although this room was airless and windowless.
Syn knew the others would be looking for him and cursed his own stupidity for letting his guard down. His last memory before waking up to being beaten was Ana screaming and now his first priority was to find out if she was here somewhere too or had succeeded in getting away. His girl was resourceful and he hoped it was the latter. The fact that it was a thug and not a man in uniform was at least a little comforting. He knew the Russian government tended to use professionals to beat a confession from you.
More footsteps, this time coming back so Syn dropped his head back down and waited. He could see the chair he was sitting on was metal and of reasonably sturdy construction, noting the stress points as the door opened and he heard the thug curtly dismissed. Syn recognised that voice and when a manicured hand raised his chin the defiant look was back on his face.
“Mr Gates, still conscious I see despite Yuri’s best efforts. Always so stubborn.”
“Mysenko…cut the crap, where’s Ana ?”
Alexei Mysenko swallowed his annoyance at the American’s arrogant tone and admired the bruises and blood instead. He liked Gates far more when the prick begged and of course his first thought would be his woman. He pulled up another chair, far enough back to see any violent move coming and considered his words carefully. While it would have amused him to make Gates think Ana was his prisoner, it was not part of the plan.
“I let her go. I am waiting for your friend Johnny to bargain for your life.”
Syn laughed, immediately regretting it as pain shot up his throat.
“He won’t.”
“He thinks more of the cache than his childhood friend ? I find that hard to believe.”
Syn shrugged, the metal shackles clanking at the movement. The two men stared at each other, each loathing the other and looking for a weakness. They had met on different terms before, the Russian had been all charm and cash, goading them all into trusting him and the deal he offered before taking Syn’s woman and leaving them in the middle of a clusterfuck. That he had willingly walked into that still bugged Syn and Mysenko knew it.
“Your whore was quick to sell you out. I am surprised you didn’t break her neck.”
The American gritted his teeth and tilted his head back, looking the Russian square in the eye. Whatever bargain Mysenko thought he could do with Johnny, Syn wasn’t buying it. There was no way that Johnny would just let them use Charlie to find the cache, it would be a harder battle to win and Johnny always banked on winning.
“She was never my whore or yours. I saw what you did to her. Was that because she wouldn’t suck your cock ?”
“That was because she tried to escape and take three of the other sluts with her. I shot them and made sure she remembered my name. Screamed my name in fact and cursed yours. I liked fucking her, she wriggled so nicely. Now she has another of my whores with her.”
Syn kept his face neutral, there was only one person Mysenko could mean and that meant Ana had lied. There was probably a reason and it made sense that this was why he was keen to get her back. The man hated to be outsmarted by anyone especially women and if Ana had indeed taken Charlotte from him then that was just another motive to come after them.
“Ana doesn’t take losing any better than you do. Now cut the crap, we both know Johnny won’t hand over the cash so why not just kill me while you had the chance ?”
The fat man laughed away the question. He had his own motives and they depended on much more than just revenge. Mysenko wanted to use the Americans against his enemies in the kremlin. A diplomatic war was just as advantageous as mere money and stolen artwork. The black market would make him double that and more.
“I like fucking with you. I will kill you and make Ana watch. Until then your friend can lead me to the cache.”
Syn spat blood onto the man’s shiny shoes with a smile and merely shrugged again. Mysenko grimaced and stood, pausing for a moment before lashing out with a heavily ringed fist that made Gates wonder if his jaw was broken before walking to the door. He paused there, looking back.
“I will let our mutual friend carry on where he left off and go see if your friends are smarter than you.”
Syn watched him leave, again listening to the footsteps retreat and the sound of the door before looking around him. The chair across from him was the only other furniture in the room. Again it was metal and fairly sturdy. Gates flicked blood from his face onto the floor and tried to clear his head. Johnny would arrange a meeting and walk into a trap or attempt a rescue. Neither of which would help them find the cache or evade a clusterfuck. He hear footsteps again and tested the give in the chains binding his hands one last time, the fact that his ankles were chained too made it harder but Gates was nothing if not resourceful and his animal cunning would help when faced with a larger but far more stupid opponent.
The goon grinned as he opened the door, his boss had done a good job and now the American looked beaten. He had been told to make sure the man could not walk or talk within the hour and he would be rewarded with one of the bosses favourite girls. He liked the girls, the drugged ones particularly and now he would make the yank pay for grinning at him earlier. He walked over to the man and pulled his head up by the hair. The boy was barely conscious now, his eyes rolled back and Yuri considered that unchaining him now would not matter. He leant the baseball bat against the other chair and leant down, unlocking the leg restraints and stepping back quickly.
The American did not move, his head lolling down again and his body slack against the chains. A frustrated grunt left the Russian as he kicked the chair over and the yank’s head connected hard with the floor. It would be no fun if he didn’t scream and Yuri badly wanted the redhead with the big tits in his bed by the end of the night. He leant back and grabbed the bat, his attention away from Syn for one split second.
That was all it took.
Syn swung his body, both boots connecting hard with Yuri’s left knee with a loud thud, the big man yelling in surprise as his leg caved and Syn followed up by hooking one foot around his ankle and twisting it from under him. As Yuri fell, Syn scrabbled to regain his feet, the chair awkwardly attached behind him made it hard and they found that both stood at the same time, Syn shoulder blocking his opponent as he went for the fallen bat and the gun in his pocket. Yuri was amazed that he could move that fast despite the beating and just how silent the American was. There was no wasted noise or movement and it was Yuri that screamed when Syn whirled and broke the chair into his chest and groin.
Syn himself was praying it would break. With his hands out of action it would only be a matter of time before the Russian found one weapon or the other and that would mean he was a dead man. He fought the dizzying pain caused by moving his aching body so fast and grinned triumphantly as the metal broke and he felt it fall around and through the handcuffs. While the Russian was bent over and wheezing Syn used up his last reserve to manage to jump and force his wrists under his feet. He was still handcuffed but his hands were now in front of him and he grabbed a piece of the metal chairleg, bringing it down on the other man’s head with a satisfying crack.
Yuri went down on one knee, his head screaming in pain and fear as Syn swung again, catching him square under the chin and driving his skull back against the wall. Again and again the chair leg battered down until the Russian was nothing more than a twitching mess on the floor and Syn was half bent over, his arms clutching around his ribs as he fought to breathe and stay upright. It hurt but the pain could be used and he channelled it into going through the corpse’s pockets until he had the handcuff keys and the small Beretta pistol in his hands.
Another search found a discarded earpiece and radio pack that the goon had not bothered to use and Syn tsked at the sheer unprofessionalism. You should never cut yourself off from your team during an interrogation and he made a note to remind Mysenko that he hired morons before he blew his head off. He used the dead man’s shirt to wipe up the worst of the blood from his face and then turned the radio on, his Russian was patchy but Syn could at least get the idea of where the other staff were around the place and it would help him to avoid them. He listened for a while before heading to the door and using Yuri’s keys to open it, Syn stepped into the corridor and looked towards the door at the other end with a smirk.
Time to take a look around and then leave a calling card before going back to his family.

Notes