Clover turned around to Boar with a weak smile. “On the bright side, at least we can be sure there’s no predators in this pen,” he whispered.
“Let’s stop this fuckery and follow them once they leave the zoo. Jesus Christ…” Boar was losing his patience, but when he grabbed Clover’s hand, the boy shook his head, pulling away so abruptly it made Boar freeze.
“No,” Drake said. “We get them here. I will destroy the motherfucker. Stop being such a coward.”
Boar would have fought Drake to make him spit out those humiliating words, but this wasn’t the time and place. They couldn’t have a screaming match when whatever guard kept watch here might hear them. Was this what Drake thought of him? That his tendency to err on the side of caution was cowardice, not rationality? What the fuck?
“Shhh,” Clover urged them both, sinking to his knees and pulling on both their hands. Boar went low, but he only saw the weak glow of a flashlight in the distance when Clover pointed at it. A lone man was patrolling the grounds, and they all flattened in the grass seconds before the light turned toward them, swiping the antelope enclosure.
Boar sucked in the scent of dirt when he saw the ray of light play in Drake’s hair. Just a few inches south, and they could be spotted, and for the blink of an eye, Boar wanted to purposefully make some noise, alarm the guard, have the security people call in cops. So maybe sitting at the police station wouldn’t be his choice of nighttime activity, but it sure beat getting killed.
The ray of light was gone before he could have made up his mind, and the guard got on with his rounds, unaware of the three intruders.
“He’s gone. Let’s go,” Clover whispered, scrambling to his feet. He dashed across the lawn without waiting for their answer. Drake followed, jogging toward the path as if he were a gazelle himself, and by the time Boar stood, they were both way ahead of him.
But as annoying as their dismissive behavior was, at least no one was shooting at him yet, so he trudged on. The eerie sense that danger might appear out of nowhere never left Boar, but as he climbed the fence and followed the others under the roofing of a rather large building, his worries subsided somewhat. Beyond lush vines, he found Clover riding a giant turtle.
It took him a couple of seconds to realize it was just a life-sized sculpture meant for children, but the image was still jarring with the serious nature of their situation. “Do you guys have anything resembling a plan? Because I haven’t heard one yet. We don’t know where to look for Apollo,” he said, keeping his tone low for the sake of real turtles patiently resting on the other side of a glass wall.
The faint light inside the cage lit up the tense lines of Drake’s face. “Where would he be, I wonder? Why do you think he’s meeting someone in a zoo after he lost a lion?”
Boar’s stomach twisted, but he crossed his arms on his chest, taking in the assessment. This was a possibility. “How would the zoo explain that one of their lions is missing without compromising its reputation?”
Drake shrugged. “I don’t know. Depends on the money involved. Why do you care? It just makes sense.”
Clover shushed them with a gesture and slid off the fake turtle, approaching the cage with the mini-map unfolded. He looked like a tourist lost after opening hours. What the hell were they doing here?
Fear clutched at Boar’s flesh, and he rubbed his face, hoping he was dreaming, but no, a bunch of monkeys grabbed a nearby wire fence and watched as if they were bloodthirsty for a spectacle.
Boar exhaled, trying to gather his thoughts, but the smooth hum of a car close by made him sink lower and peek between the vines. A red sports car rolled down the alley, its headlights like two inquisitive eyes in search of intruders, even though it clearly was one too.
Boar gestured at Drake and Clover, asking them for silence, but the vehicle didn’t pass them and instead came to a halt only a couple of paces away from the turtle enclosure. Boar stopped breathing altogether. As time stretched, the natural plant odor became choking like that of rotting undergrowth, but he remained still as two men got out of the car. His lungs filled with air when he realized they’d left the vehicle running. They either intended to return very soon or weren’t certain of their safety.
Either way, this was their chance.
Clover cleared his throat and whispered, “the lions are across from us. We need to—”
Drake cut him off with a voice made of razor blades. “I see him.”
And then, he bolted.
Without a plan, without any consideration for the world around him, he was like a dagger thrown toward the small group Boar only now spotted. Unlike a dagger though, Drake wouldn’t just clatter to the ground if he met a wall. Despite what Drake might be thinking about himself, he was flesh and bone that could be torn by bullets. An insanely capable man was still a man.
Even Clover, who’d been so carefree about this whole thing, understood the suicidal nature of Drake’s actions and made an expression so helpless Boar wished he could whisk him off somewhere safe. This was the rational thing to do, but once bullets and screams erupted in the silence, he no longer had a peaceful way out of this.
Grabbing Clover’s wrist, he burst from his hideout and kneeled behind the open car only moments before one of its side windows was hit and crumbled in an eruption of glass.
“Take the car and go,” he said to Clover but had no time to waste, so he moved along the vehicle before sprinting toward the chimpanzee enclosure. Their howls were loud enough to reach the moon above, large bodies moving in the dark as the noise aggravated them further.
Any of the flying bullets could have hit him, but when he rolled behind a large stone, there was no time to feel relief that he was still whole. And as Boar crept along their three-story tall cage, he inevitably attracted the attention of the apes, to the point where he had sweat beading on his back because of the way they shook the thick mesh so close to him.
Drake was as swift as wind itself, cutting men down like trees. He didn’t even flinch when he ran out of bullets and slashed his next adversary’s tendons with a knife, endlessly moving forward like an unstoppable force, a tsunami of violence.
Hidden beyond an alleyway border dividing the animals from visitors, Boar crouched, squeezing his favorite handgun. Heat reached his face when Drake spiraled through the crowd of goons, his movements that of a bloodthirsty ballet dancer. Grabbing one of the thugs, he spun him around so the bullet intended for him hit another of Apollo’s men, then stabbed his human weapon in the throat. Where Boar’s specialty was brute force and sniping, Drake’s talents lay in balancing at the edge of the blade. It was as if the proximity of danger flipped a switch inside him and turned the somber man he was into a banshee.
Blood clung to his face and dampened the long hair that flew around his face in black streaks when he charged toward a tall man with a neat white beard and hair. At first glance, he looked like a handsome grandpa, but when Drake’s fury made him smile rather than recoil, Boar knew they had the right guy. Goons pulled their boss back, away from immediate danger, but when one of them shot straight at Drake, ground crumbled under Boar’s feet.
Drake fell back, hand pressed to his chest, and for the longest moment Boar forgot his friend always wore kevlar. There was no blood in sight, but pain still twisted Drake’s features as he rolled back to his feet, once again surrounded.
“I want him alive. I want them all alive,” Apollo shouted, and that was Boar’s wake-up call. The word all rang in his head like the heart of a bell, but there was no time for analyzing any of it anymore.
They needed a distraction.
He turned to the obvious answer and shot at the lock of the chimp enclosure. He swung the door open, but what he expected to be a loud, chaotic flood of animals, was barely a trickle when only two of the apes showed any interest in the open door.
There was no time to ponder his failure and instead, Boar scooted into the bushes and reached for his gun, ready to take out the enemy from afar, one by one.
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His hand met leathery fingers and when he turned, frozen, his gaze locked with two brown eyes deeply set in the chimp’s face. The thing made an ungodly screech and pulled the gun out of Boar’s grip.
Out of breath, he tried to chase the animal, but it was already climbing up the enclosure, swinging the firearm in one hand, as if to mock him. More shots were his call to action. His gaze settled on a long tool resembling a pitchfork. He grabbed it and burst out of his hideout with a roar. He didn’t choose his target and just shoved the makeshift weapon at the first back in sight. Sharp prongs went straight in, without him having to apply that much force.
The goon looked back, his lips dripping blood, but Boar was already beyond rationality, and he kicked the guy’s thighs to slide him off before diving into the chaotic mess of a fight. His adversaries moved in slow motion. He didn’t know how many of them remained, but bodies were already piling, and he needed to add his contribution to the next boat ride across the river Styx.
So instead of stabbing at the men, he swung the long tool so it clashed with the watermelons those bastards had for heads.
Drake was down, the whites of his eyes so very bright against the blood sticking to his face in streaks. It was hard to say if any of it was his, but Boar wasn’t taking any chances.
“To the car. Go to the fucking car, you moron!”
When Drake struggled to get up, Boar grabbed him under the arms and pulled back. The whole fucking trip had been insanity from the start, and he should have known it instead of following Drake. He’d assumed Drake’s instinct had told him the assassination was possible, but now Boar could see plainly that the only light Drake had seen at the end of the tunnel was revenge.
“No! I’m not going until he’s dead!” Drake screamed, clutching at Boar’s arm as if Boar was the enemy.
Something swished in the air, right next to Boar’s face, and seconds later, Drake went limp. It took Boar far too long to spot the dart in Drake’s leg.
His brain felt as if it had evaporated, and for the blink of an eye, he was lost.
“We’ll leave,” he said, turning to face Apollo with his hands tight around the wooden handle. It was only then that he saw how many goons were still standing. The only reason their bullets hadn’t turned him into a sieve yet was because their boss ordered them not to.
Apollo’s face was pleasant, and somehow there wasn’t even a drop of blood on his white shirt. He looked like the perfect gentleman. “I don’t think so,” he said softly.
“Drop your guns if you don’t want your boss dead!” Clover yelled in a steady voice, appearing out of nowhere with his small hands trembling on a gun.
Boar wanted to howl. He’d tried to get at least one of them to safety, for Clover to flee and tell the others what happened. “Listen, I’m sure—”
Apollo gestured with his hand, and a dart hit Clover’s neck. The boy shot, but Apollo was already ducking, ready for the bullet. Clover hit the ground with a dull thud, and tears welled up in Boar’s eyes as panic settled in.
“Please! I’m sure we can come to some kind of arrangement!” he said in a choked up voice.
Apollo rose and brushed some dirt off his suit. “You gave my sister no such chance, and you will pay for that.”
Sister?
Boar stared back at him with a frown, but the next dart was meant for him, and as the world began to go dark, he hit the ground. With the last of his consciousness, he reached for Clover’s fingers. So pale and pretty, so beloved.
A few inches too far.
Chapter 12 – Clover
Clover dropped into icy water.
No. He was on the floor, in a puddle, and just as he arched off the laminate, another bucketful splashed down his stiff body, soaking into his clothes and hair. It was as if a fist was rapidly squeezing his lungs and throwing his body into shock.
He whimpered when someone kicked his ass. “Strip.”
He looked up at the two towers of muscle dressed in black. The men were bald and clean shaven. If it wasn’t for their noses—one large, the other small and crooked—they could have been twins.
“W-where am I?” he uttered, but only got more water poured on him in answer.
“Not gonna repeat myself, fresh meat.”
Where was he? Was this still the zoo?
As the freezing water took hold of his body, making it shudder, Clover took in the two dividers keeping him contained, and a showerhead above. There were similar stalls behind the two men, but how had he gotten there, and how long had he been asleep? It was impossible to tell, since there was no window, no clock in sight.
“I… I think it’s a misunderstanding.”
One of the men, the one with the bigger nose, offered Clover a cool smile. “It’ll be a misunderstanding if I kick in your front teeth. Now strip.”
The other goon laughed, and his loaf-sized hand gravitated to his crotch. “Haven’t gotten a blowjob from someone with no teeth for a while now. Maybe it’s time for a new sucker.”
Clover froze. This was nothing like the zoo and Diana’s vanilla cupcakes. His blood ran as cold as the water making him shiver. He wasn’t about to argue.
He rushed to unstrap the bulletproof vest and take off his T-shirt. His mind still rang with the last memories of the chaos that ensued when Drake had attacked and killed all those people at the zoo. Was he alive? Boar? Clover was too afraid to ask and show any more vulnerability. At the mercy of these men he was once again a defenseless mouse.
“The shoes too. Everything,” Big Nose said, but even when Clover averted his eyes, he felt the heat of two gazes rubbing all over his newly bared skin. Only orders kept those men from using any means at their disposal against him. Whether they were into men or not in whatever normal life people like that could lead, they would abuse Clover, even if just for the fun of it.
He took everything off, leaving it in a soggy pile next to him, and got up when prompted.
“Now give us a spin,” laughed the other man, gesturing with his finger. When Clover complied, he continued speaking. “You must know you’re knee-deep in shit to be this obedient.”
“Do we have time?” asked Big Nose in a whisper. “Wanna have a go at this one?”
This couldn’t be happening. They had been supposed to win. To kill Apollo, come back home victorious, and deal with the fallout of their unauthorised mission. Clover’s veins were rivers of icy water, and he clenched his ass in response to the threat. He was alone against two and didn’t yet have Drake’s proficiency at combat. It those guys decided to force themselves on him, chances of getting away would be slim.
“We don’t.” Crooked sighed and pushed Clover at the wall so hard a yelp escaped his lips. One massive hand held Clover’s nape, the other trailed down his body and spread his buttocks. The instinct to squirm was so hard-wired he didn’t even think, his whole body burning up with fear and a growing sense of shame.
When he reached back to fight, the man twisted his hand so painfully for a moment he feared his wrist had been dislocated. But no. It was fine.
“I will make you beg for my cock by the end of this day, cupcake.”
A year of daily training, so much hard work, yet faced with those two, he was incapable of protecting himself. How could he have been stupid enough to think he’d learned enough to deal with issues his partners faced while working? Tank had been right all along. Clover had let his pride take the wheel.
He wanted to talk back the way he’d have when he was still a mistrustful runt and reacted with aggression to even a hint of threat from a guy. But he’d grown wiser since and knew it was better to bite his tongue.
Crooked smirked and pulled on Clover’s arm while Big Nose took hold of the other. “So pliant. I like that. Hope for your sake that you have some experience. With that face, you’re definitely getting a lot of action as soon as the boss allows it.”
Cold shivers ran up and down his skin. He wanted to cry for Tank. For him to sort this shit out and take him int
o those warm arms that were like velvet during a hug but as hard as steel when it was needed. Clover hadn’t been ready for any of this. Still a kid, he should have listened to his Daddy’s advice, not thrown himself head-first into danger just because one of the men he loved couldn’t contain his need for revenge. What would happen to him if his situation became even worse than this? He was already falling apart.
But daydreams of safety were pointless in the damp corridor where he was pushed to next. Tank didn’t know where he was, and no tracker would save Clover this time. He’d made his bed and he would hate every second of laying in it.
“I kinda wish he talked back. No fun in fucking a piece of warm meat.”
Clover looked under his feet as he walked along the dirty tiles flanked by the two men who gleefully planned to rip him apart. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe they couldn’t break him. He had no doubt he’d lose his teeth if he tried to bite their dicks, and if they wanted to fuck his ass, all they needed to do was hold him down. Maybe he could have taken on one of them in a more even situation, hit the right spot and flee, but fighting was pointless with no place to run.
His stomach clenched with pure terror. Would this be his life? In comparison to the prospect of being raped and beaten over and over again, even a life in Diana’s cage seemed like not that bad of a deal.
He tried to scramble for information about his whereabouts, but there was nothing specific in sight. The corridor was long, with white walls, a laminate floor that had a greenish shade, and pairs of doors facing each other at regular intervals. No windows though. The basement of some kind of office building?
His skin still burned from the icy water, but he knew that at least he wasn’t to die just yet. Muted laughter drew his attention to a room they passed, but the two goons stopped just a couple of paces away, with Crooked opening the next door along.
Bright light made Clover squint when he entered the new space, stumbling when one of the men shoved him forward. The floor here was colder and harder than the laminate had been, and when he opened his eyes, white tiles surrounded him from every side. They covered the floor, the walls, and even the ceiling of the empty space
Four Mercenaries - The Complete Collection Page 41