by Emrys Apollo
“We’ve been on holiday before?” Desmond queried.
“You were my link into information. World did not stop because you took a break. It meant I couldn’t inform them of your next move… They weren’t prepared to stop you after we got back because did not know anything was in the works. Storming. If you weren’t useful to them anymore and our relationship had no worth then why not just kill us both?”
“They were going to.”
“So what made them reconsider?”
- - -
A week before the kidnapping…
“Well, congratulations, Antony.” Lorenzo said from the over side of the table. Five executives were sat in front of him. Antony knew he’d run out of time. “Your precious little vermin have now got the Lieberman file which, as you know, give them everything on our six month plan with Leone.” A gun was placed on the table between them. Antony kept his head down. “What do you have to say for your actions?”
“I gave you everything…” Antony muttered.
“Well clearly everything was not enough.” Danic chimed in. Antony shook his head.
“Did not think it would come to this. Thought we could stop-”
“No. The only thing that stops now is the lies.” Antony flinched as the gun was slid over to him. “Accident or no accident, I do not care anymore. Kill him.” Antony’s heart shattered on the last two words. Seven years he had been with Desmond. How could he not have protected him from this? He knew it was coming, he knew that at some point they would make him do this but it had been four years since the last threat and Antony had gotten into a false sense of security. He had believed the fairy tale he was living was real.
“Our trust in you is shaky. You do this or we plant a bullet in your head.” Danic stated.
“You are formally a compromised agent. This is your opportunity to prove your alignment has not shifted.” Lorenzo said. “Otherwise we will kill you both.” Antony picked up the gun. He had 24 hours to make Desmond and him disappear. He just hoped Desmond would still love and trust him after he explained how much of the last seven years had been a lie.
“Wait.” Antony’s blood turned to ice. It had been years since he had had direct dealings with Michelle. Years since the day Michelle had worked him out, worked out why he applied for extension after extension on the Sharp case. Antony turned to look at his former lover, who had gotten to his feet. Surely Michelle couldn’t make this worse for him. “Maybe this relationship has more cause than just death.” Antony tried to stop the tears from forming in his eyes but his vision swam anyway.
“What does that mean, Stella?” Lorenzo asked. Antony’s eyes were locked on Michelle.
“Maybe we can use what Abascal has built, use it to get back the Lieberman file, use it to see what Storming plan to do with their lead on Leone,” Michelle’s eyes locked on Antony’s. “Use him to prevent whatever their planning.”
“Sharp won’t just work with us.” Danic said.
“No. But if we have something that means a great deal to him, I’m sure his tongue will be loosened.” What Michelle was suggesting was a fate worse than death. Not only was he handing Desmond over to people who wanted no good for him, but he was letting them abuse their relationship, letting them emotionally blackmail Desmond into doing things he didn’t want to do. Antony would have preferred someone put a bullet in his head over this. The emotional turmoil that this would put Desmond through was too much to live with.
“It appears you have a new way to prove your alliance.” Lorenzo smiled, turning to Antony. “Follow Stella’s plan, work with us to shut down Storming, and you can return as a fully working agent. We will be in touch.” In a symbol of submission to the plan, Antony slid the gun back over towards Lorenzo, not looking at any of them as he left the meeting room.
- - -
“At least it makes sense why Michelle always targeted you.” Jody said. “You stole his fuck toy.”
“Jody.” Desmond chastened. He might be mad at Antony, but he still loved him.
“I always told you he was a disaster case.”
“Jody-”
“Now all of this has happened and it’s his fault.”
“What’s done is done-”
“And you can’t forgive him.” Jody added hotly. “He’s going to be killed. By us. Or used as ransom.”
“I think he’s made it clear they don’t give a shit about him.” Desmond said. Jody shrugged.
“Great. Death it is.”
“Jody, you can’t…” Stuart started, but Jody just shook his head.
“He’s been fucking with your head for years,” Jody accused, pointing at Desmond. “Somehow he’s gotten in yours.” He directed at Stuart. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to more of his bullshit.”
“He’s telling the truth.” Stuart said in a pained tone, his eyes begging Jody.
“Then we’ve got all the evidence we need to make the Argent kill count three this week.” Jody stated getting to his feet. “Job well done I’d say.” Stuart followed him up.
“You can’t kill him.” The words seemed to burst out of the German, causing Jody to stop.
“What? Why?” Jody almost laughed, but confusion coated his words.
“Stuart, do not.” Antony warmed lightly. But Stuart just shook his head, closing his eyes and taking a breath. It was time.
- - -
Six Days before the Reunion…
“Get up.” Michelle instructed roughly, pulling on Antony’s arm. Antony gasped his breath out, tears streaming down his face and his nose running uncontrollably over the material that was bound in his mouth. All the energy had drained out of him, watching Desmond skid across the tarmac off his bike. He had almost felt the heat off the tires as Desmond has slammed on the brakes, getting so close Antony never wanted to know how close it had been to disaster. Just proving again he was expendable. If Argent had to sacrifice him to kill Desmond then they would.
But they might have just achieved that. Through his tear-filled eyes, Antony could only just make out the shape of Desmond, lying motionlessly in the distance. He wanted to run to him, protect him, check he was okay, heal his wounds. But Michelle wasn’t letting him move an inch in Desmond’s direction.
“I said get up.” Michelle pushed, dragging Antony to his feet. He stumbled, still trying to move in Desmond’s direction, but two other guys came and took hold of Antony, steering him back towards the truck.
“Michelle …” Antony sniffed to Michelle’s turned back. “Please.”
“Put him in the truck.” Michelle ordered, not turning to look at Antony as he turned back on his radio. “Sharp down.” He radioed in Italian as Antony was shoved back into the truck.
“Permanently?” The voice of Lorenzo came back in Italian.
“Unconfirmed.”
“Leave it. You have Storming incoming three minutes behind. They can find out for us.”
“Rodger this.” Michelle said.
“You need to go back. Something for you to pick up.” Danic instructed as Antony’s hands were untied, forced into the truck and strapped in.
“Confirmed. Sierra one out.” Slamming the door, Michelle signaled for the truck to drive on. Antony wiped his eyes, pulling the binding from his lips. He tried to look for Desmond as the truck drove past him, but the two bodyguards who had put him in the back of the truck held him still.
“What are we going back for?” Antony asked weakly. Michelle glanced back at him in the rearview.
“Does not concern you.” Antony looked down. Antony wished on anything if he could know whether Desmond was okay. He thought of the Motorola that was in the cup holder in the front seat. If he could just get hold of it he could send a message. Desmond wouldn’t know it was from him, but at least he could confirm Desmond was alright.
“Perhaps we let him look after it?” Horace muttered with a smirk to Michelle as he drove them back. Antony frowned at him.
“Look after what?” Antony asked. In a bli
nk Michelle had a gun turned on him.
“Stop asking questions.” Michelle instructed calmly. Antony shook his head.
“You kill me you lose him.” The man said with false bravado. Michelle smirked.
“He might already be dead.” Antony bit the inside of his cheek, begging his eyes not to tear up. But there was no stopping his natural reaction, no stopping his emotions from surging. After everything he had done, after everyone in Argent he had crossed, Desmond couldn’t now be dead. He’d done everything to protect him for seven years. It couldn’t end like this.
Antony was left in the truck on his own when they returned to the arena. He waited a few moments after everyone, seemingly pre orchestrated, got out of the truck in unison. He wanted to make sure no one was coming back. However, not wanting to lose this opportunity, Antony clambered into the front seat, snatching up the phone. It didn’t take him long to find Desmond’s number, typing out a new text.
:Don’t tell me you’ve done something inconvenient and died?:
It was an off-hand message, but Antony had to keep it on the same tone as something that Michelle would have sent. He took a steadying breath, holding the phone tightly. Desmond would be fine. His Desmond was strong and a fighter. A protector. He would walk this off and come back to get Antony again.
Antony dropped the phone in shock as it chimed with a new message. He snatched it up, clutching it like a lifeline.
:Alive.:
It was short and didn’t give much away, but it was everything Antony needed it to be. Antony let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding, a small smile brushing at his cheeks.
“Put that down.” Michelle snapped, opening the truck door. Antony placed the phone back in the cup holder, raising his hands defensively as he slid back into the back of the truck. The door on his left was opened, and arms shoved him to the right side of the truck. “Stay quiet now.” Michelle cooed. Antony opened his mouth, confused, to ask what was going on, but the answer came to him as a second person with a bag over their head was pushed harshly into the open door, falling across the seat. “How about you help our friend out.” Michelle said in Italian. Antony briefly looked between the two of them. “Help him out.”
The person fought against his hands, even though he was trying to be as gentle as possible. Had the man, Antony had worked that much out, not had his hands tied behind his back, Antony was sure he’d have landed a few punches. Sitting the guy up, the door was closed. Antony frowned at Michelle.
“Who-?”
“Shhh.” Michelle chastened, tapping his gun to his lips.
“Sharp is alive.” Horace stated, dropping the phone back into the cup holder and starting up the truck.
“At least it wasn’t a plea for help.” Michelle said approvingly, flipping open the phone and typing out a new message. Antony tried, but he couldn’t see what Michelle was typing.
“Cowards.” The guy beside Antony spat, clearly there was something in his mouth. Antony felt some familiarity from the voice. “I won’t talk.”
“You are talking now.” Horace said, barely taking his eyes off the road.
“This is exactly where I wanted to be.”
“Sure. Is why we forced your compliance, beat you to submission and tied you up.” Michelle said, still fiddling around with the Motorola.
“They’ll find you.”
“Uh huh.”
“I could be being tracked.”
“But are not.”
“You don’t know anything.” The guy was trying to be menacing. Antony commended his efforts; he clearly was at the disadvantage but was acting like he had the upper hand.
“Keep him quiet.” Michelle said, lazily holding out his gun to Antony over the chair. Antony took the gun from Michelle’s hand, clicking off the safety and watching the man to his left flinch.
“Who is-?”
“Do not make me ask you to be quiet again.” Michelle threatened, finally looking away from the phone. Antony pouted moodily, pressing the barrel of the gun to the guy’s temple. “Another word and we’ll paint that window with your brains.”
“No you won’t. You want information from me. I’m way too valuable to just take and shoot.”
“Smart kid.” Horace smirked. Michelle rolled his eyes.
“Shoot him in the knee.” Michelle ordered. Antony looked over at him.
“What?” Michelle blinked.
“Shoot him,” Michelle repeated, lowering the gun in Antony’s hand until it was aimed at the bagged man’s knee. “Where it will hurt.” It was a challenge, Antony knew that, and in all honesty he didn’t know why he couldn’t just pull the trigger. This was a random, this was someone Michelle had probably picked up to play with Antony. It was a test to see if Antony would blindly follow orders as he used to. It was in his nature to do as instructed, so why could he not just shoot this guy in the knee? He wouldn’t kill him; it would just really hurt.
Before Antony knew what was happening, there was a hand at his throat. The gun disappeared under Michelle’s seat as he was pushed back, the guy having managed to get his hands free. Antony tried to gasp for breath, clawing at the man’s hands to try and push him off but it was no use. The guy had a fierce determination to drain the life from Antony. Spots were popping in Antony’s eyes.
“Fuck sake.” Horace muttered, slamming on the brakes. The guy was thrown off Antony, falling awkwardly half into the foot well. Antony gasped for breath, coughing and spluttering as he clutched at his throat. What he hadn’t noticed was the bag had slipped from the guy’s head, allowing him to see everyone who was in the truck.
“Antony?” Stuart gasped, his eyes wide in shock. It was enough of a distraction for Horace to jam the needle into his neck, pushing down the plunger and forcing Stuart to go limp against the seats. Antony’s eyes were wide, unable to come off Stuart. What kind of a sick game was this? Antony knew Stuart, he knew him well. Desmond and he had spent time with Jody and Stuart. This was someone he would class as a friend and Michelle would have known that.
“Disappointing.” Michelle said, retrieving the gun and clicking back on the safety as Horace pulled off again, leaving Antony to stare at an unconscious Stuart.
- - -
Two Days before the Reunion…
“You wanted to see me.” Antony asked after walking into Michelle’s makeshift office. Michelle didn’t look up from what he was working on, holding out a file to Antony.
“Clearly your Desmond is smarter than we think.” Antony took the file, flicking it open and looking at the images inside. It was a black Peugeot parked outside of the derelict hotel he had rambled on pointlessly to Desmond about. The next two images were a closer zoom in on the Peugeot, showing two guys sitting in the front. It was grainy, but Antony could make out Desmond in the driver’s seat, partially blocked by Jody. “Never thought he’d have got that from your loose clue.”
“Is he going to live?” Antony asked. Michelle frowned at him.
“Desmond?”
“No…” Antony said, his eyes locked on Jody. Michelle smirked.
“Are you sure you’re not an Argent agent still? By the end of this week you might be responsible for three of their ‘best agent’s’ deaths.” Michelle snatched back the file.
“He has done nothing-” Antony started.
“He is an opposing agent.” Michelle said. “The less of them the better.”
“It does not have to be like this.” Antony tried to plea. Michelle returned back to his desk.
“Has always been like this. Do not think you are special enough to make a change. Is business, have to be the best so we eradicate the competition. You have always known this. You have played your hand in this. Do not get moral and think you can turn over a new leaf now.”
“So what happens now?” Antony shot, folding his arms. Clearly Michelle had just brought him in here to torment him.
“Tonight, the team goes out to rid of the spare, then tomorrow you get to say goodbye.”
Michelle said with a tone of finality. “Now go give him his food.” Michelle pointed at the tray on the table beside Antony, returning to whatever he was working on.
“Michelle-”
“You have a job. Do it.” Michelle spat, still not looking up from his work. Antony let out a breath; there was no doing anything to convince Michelle to change his mind. If he was going to save Desmond and now Stuart and Jody, he was going to have to make some moves of his own.
He picked up the tray holding a glass of water and a chunk of bread and headed out to Stuart. It was a torture tactic; give your captive just enough calories to keep them awake, but weak enough they can’t fight you. Antony had done it so many times in his life, but taking the aforementioned tray to Stuart made him want to hurl it across the room and give him his own higher calorie lunch.
“You have to watch your back with this one.” Stuart snarled as Antony came into sight. “He’ll happily put a knife in it.” Antony was confident the other Argent agents were letting Stuart spout off at him because they knew it was bothering him. At the end of the day he was still a compromised agent and hadn’t yet done anything to prove that diagnosis wrong. Stuart eyed him with disdain as Antony closed up to him. “Glass in that bread?”
“Stuart, stop.” Antony muttered, placing the tray on the table Stuart was next to. The German had one hand chained to a nearby pipe, only allowing him to move about five foot from where he was slumped against the wall. Antony picked up the glass, bringing it over to him, but Stuart knocked it out of his hand, smashing it against the wall. Antony sighed. “You need to keep your energy up.”
“Because a handful of bread and a sip of water is going to do that.” Stuart bit.
“I’m trying to help.” Antony said, causing Stuart to scoff.
“You think just because you didn’t shoot my knee I’m going to forgive you?” Antony dropped his head. “He’s been going crazy, making reckless stupid decisions for your sorry ass. And for what? You’re sat here perfectly fine getting five star meals.”
