The moon loomed overhead, its light dusky and soft in the enshrouding fog, when Sean awoke.His neck and shoulders were numb and tingly, and a wave of nausea crept up his throat.Straining to adjust his eyes to the shadows, the only light coming from a rectangular window several feet above his head, he propped himself up on an elbow.The air was cool and damp, and he shifted his hip uneasily against the dusty linoleum floor to gain leverage.The last thread of professional competence he still grasped, at least in his own mind, willed him to take stock of his surroundings.Concrete walls surrounded him, patched and coated with a listless beige paint that flaked in vaguely hieroglyphic patterns.A set of brass doors faced him at the opposite wall, several feet away.He instinctively tried to hear beyond them, but there was only the sound of dripping water from an exposed pipe overhead. What did he remember?There was the diner, and the two men one of them was that goon he tranquilized in the hotel hallway.How did they find me?, he wondered aloud, and was startled by the tombs echo.His neck was now throbbing, and as he tried to reach up to touch the strange lump at his nape, he collapsed on the floor in a clumsy heap, his arm unable to support his weight.His upper body was stiff and weak.As he scrambled to lift himself up, he heard soft, shuffling footsteps approaching the doors.The locks tumbler knocked and rattled, and the doors were pulled open with considerable effort by unseen hands.The agent was becoming accustomed to the dimness, and for a moment he thought he saw a flash of gold metal pass through the doorway. "You know what, Archer?Im sick of the darkness. Sick and ****ing tired of it.".Sean recognized Castor Troys bravado histrionics immediately, but said nothing in response. "There's something about living in the shadows.It feels so sleazy.Like weve got something to hide, you know?".The click of Castor's heels against the linoleum echoed softly, and made it sound like there were six or eight men in the room surrounding the agent.Now he could see very well, and noticed that Castors hair and suit was rumpled.His face was drawn and gaunt, and when he turned to face the agent, the dark circles under his eyes stood out in relief against his sallow complexion.Sean rubbed his stomach with an unsteady hand and spoke up. "Havent been getting much sleep, Troy?You look like ****.". Castor smiled blandly, his jaw fixed in a painful jut. "What can I say?Things have been hectic, what with flying around the world, jumping from hotel windows, saving sick girlfriends and all.". The last few words were followed with glittering, vicious eyes as he stalked towards Sean, his fists clenched at his sides. "Incidentally, that's exactly the reason why I sent for you.". Sean no longer cared about what happened to him at this point if the others found him here, dead or alive. "So this isnt one of those fun, lets-grab-a-beer-and-hang-out kind of things?". Castor casually pulled a gun from his holster and held it up to the light, absentmindedly admiring its stark beauty. "You should know by now that I don't have time for small talk.But you...".He pointed the pistol directly at Seans face and cackled wildly. "Sean, baby!I would have never guessed you were such a social butterfly, but I'll be damned if you haven't met all sorts of people the past few days!!Youre quite the ****ing gadabout.I'm impressed!".He gently stroked the butt of the pistol down Sean's nose.Reflexively, the agent attempted to knock it away, but a thick wave of panic overtook him when he realized that he couldn't lift his arms more than a few inches in front of him.They hung from his shoulders, long pathetic slabs of useless meat, now encased in a tingly warmth that threatened to creep down to his legs with every passing second.A hoarse gasp escaped from his lips. "I've gotta tell ya, Archer, I'm really disappointed that you're incapacitated at this point.I was itching for some gun play... some really serious, honest, down-to-the-bones gunslinging.But now...".He backed away from the agent with an air of pity. "We've got nothing.". The agent's lips, as cracked and blemished as the walls, still pushed out words. "You've never killed anyone.". "Nope.Never even tried.But you have.".Beads of perspiration trickled down his cheekbones, and he rubbed his face absentmindedly with his left arm. "And have I ever mentioned what an amazing stud you are for doing that?Bra-****ing-vo, Agent Archer.Incredible aim you've got there.".With one swift kick to the ribs, he knocked the wind out of Archer, sending him to the floor face-first.A mild, incidental wave of pain rushed over his paralyzed muscles and quickly melted away, but a sharp blow just below his right ear left him with a searing headache.Bile rose in his throat as he squeezed his eyes shut in defense.He heard sliding footsteps near his head and braced himself for an onslaught, but instead felt shallow, labored breathing inches from his face. "I want to shoot you, Archer.I really do.But I'm not a piece of **** who hides behind his gun and his buddies.".A cold, trembling hand gripped his jaw and lifted him from the ground to his unsteady feet, and he was faced with piercing blue eyes welled with anguish. "It's been five days since you shot her, Archer.Wanna know how she's doing?".The agent pursed his lips but did not respond. With an exaggerated flourish, Castor shoved the agent to the floor and stormed out of the room without another word.There was silence behind the door, then faint hints of a conversation between two men.Sean strained to hear, but couldn't make out anything before the agent was able to stand up, Castor returned with Pollux trailing behind him, a smug smirk plastered on his ferret-like face.A semi-automatic was gripped uneasily in the younger brothers sweaty hands, his fingertips flicking against the trigger nervously, and a ball of dread grew in Seans stomach it was obvious that he had no experience in handling the weapon.He tried to clear his dry throat to speak. "Pollux," he ventured, "long time, no see.Nice piece you've got there.".Pollux said nothing.Castor interjected for him. "You like it, assclown?My kid brother's never used a gun before, so we thought we'd get him started out on the right foot.".The joke caused Pollux to erupt in a barrage of snorts and snickers.He aimed carefully at Sean's feet, one open eye staring down a trembling barrel.Instinctively, Sean tried to jump away, but his lower body was reticent to move, so he could do nothing more than close his eyes and hear the frantic heartbeat pounding in his head.But the two brothers did nothing.Seconds ticked by, and Sean cautiously opened his eyes to see Castor gently lower Polluxs gun to the ground. "I wouldn't waste the bullet.", he told his younger brother. "Not yet.It's no fun unless two can play fairly, right, Seanie?".Pollux sighed and walked out of the room, his shoulders slouched in disappointment.Both men stood in silence, staring each other down, until they heard the brass doors lock behind them. "Since when have you been all about following the rules?", Sean whispered hoarsely. "I live my life by them.My rules may not be the same as yours, but they exist.".Castor licked his lips in frustration, cracking his knuckles and pacing around the stricken agent with a casual strut that belied his gnawing fury. "Wanna know one of my favorite rules?".Sean gritted his teeth in disgust at his bantering but didn't respond.Without hesitation, he grabbed Sean's neck from behind, pressing his thumb into his trachea.A desperate gurgling sound erupted from his mouth and he struggled in vain to lift his arms.Leaning close to his ear, Castor whispered, "I never walk away from anyone worth fighting for.".Before the agent could comprehend his words, Castor delivered a blinding blow to the back of his neck, knocking him unconscious.
-- Edited by Damaris at 22:50, 2008-04-21
-- Edited by Damaris at 22:52, 2008-04-21
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