New! Fic: Staring at the Sun, part 11
Finally! Sorry for the delay.
Staring at the Sun
by
amonitrate
11. Pinned
They'd taken Sonny first, hours ago, and left him alone with his worry. Sonny's fear for his family had spread to Rico like some kind of virus, multiplying while he waited, burning in his blood. Did they know about Valerie? Angelina was probably beyond their reach. But what about his mother, his grandfather? It was almost a relief when the door slammed open again and it was his turn to be dragged into the unknown.
What was the point of all of this? Sonny seemed to think their captors wanted something; but so far no one had asked him any questions. Besides the knock on the head they had yet to do much more than humiliate him. Seemed like a lot of effort. Must be a reason behind it.
Maybe they were doing it for kicks.
Cold tile under his feet. Back in the shower room? His wrists were released but before he had a chance to enjoy the freedom they were cuffed back together in front of his body.
"Hey, how 'bout something to eat, huh?"
He was shoved to his knees from behind, buttons from his captor's shirt digging into his back, an arm around his throat to hold him still. A thrill of panic settled down to a simmer when his air wasn't cut off. He'd learned enough not to fight but the need to do something sent him babbling.
"Ease up, buddy. Not like I'm going anywhere."
Strong hands on his feet, and he couldn't stop himself from kicking out in surprise. The grip on his throat squeezed until stars burst behind his eyes. Then all at once he was released, coughing and wheezing. He heard retreating footsteps over the freight train in his skull. After a few more minutes he regained enough breath to reach for his throat only to find that he couldn't lift his hands.
He couldn't move. His hands and feet were secured to what felt like some kind of bolt in the floor. He yanked at the chains but all that got him was a pair of sore wrists.
"What the hell is this all about?" His shout bounced back unanswered.
Screaming into the emptiness and pinned down like an animal - he must look the fool. A giggle boiled up. He'd played naked Twister once, in his wilder days. 'Cept for the chains and the fact that he was solo the position was remarkably similar. Of course, this game was bound to end much less pleasantly than Twister.
He lost track of time. Again. Not that he'd had any real idea what the hell time it was to begin with. It was quiet, real quiet, and that started to get on his nerves. He caught himself whistling the ditty from "Bridge Over the River Kwai." Stopped that in its tracks. But at least it was a sound. He missed the familiar whir of the air conditioner.
His stomach knotted itself up. Given his naked ass and his humiliating position, not to mention the sick pounding in his head, last thing he wanted was food, but his stomach was too dumb to know the difference. Not that food would be an option any time soon. Their captors didn't seem too worried about piddling things like food and water.
Water. What he wouldn't give for a nice tall glass of water, ice cubes floating on the surface. Or iced tea, no sugar, a pretty wedge of lemon perched on the lip of the glass. Maybe something fruity with a splash of rum and one of those pink paper umbrellas. Yeah.
A throaty snarl shattered his beverage fantasy. Rico froze. What the hell... Another snarl, deeper this time, edged with teeth. He yanked on his hands, turning his head back and forth, trying to see despite the blindfold. His throat closed and his heart tried to leap through his rib cage.
There was a dog in here with him. A fucking wolf, by the sound of it. His first partner, back in NYC, had got off taking him to see "Cujo" about a year before Raphael bought it. Davis had laughed his ass off when Rico had to leave the theatre in the middle of the film. He fucking hated dogs. Always had. When he was little his mother used to scare him and Raphael with stories about how the police used german shepards on the islands, and his grandfather had the scars to prove it.
Snarl and a bark, like a lion's roar. Right in his ear. Rico jerked back but the chains wouldn't let him get far enough. He could feel the beast's hot breath on his cheek.
"Get this fucking animal offa me!" His voice was too high-pitched but he didn't give a damn. Cujo growled and snapped and he could hear raucous laughter behind him.
"Whattsa matter, detective? Dontcha like my pal here? I think he likes you."
"Go to hell!" Rico tried to stop himself from struggling but his body wouldn't obey. All it knew was the sound of angry dog.
"Already have." It sounded like Baldy, but he couldn't be sure. "That's where I picked up my little buddy."
"Where's Sonny?" Anything to get his mind off the dog.
"Your partner?" Baldy laughed again. By the sound of it, Cujo made a lunge for Rico's throat and was pulled back at the last second. So Cujo was on a leash. Maybe. Hopefully. "Right about now I think he's in Southeast Asia."
And what the hell was that supposed to mean?
Baldy let Cujo take a few more shots at him and then dragged the hell-beast away, laughing the whole time. Leaving him alone. Again. With the quiet.
And his worry. Southeast Asia. Vietnam. What were they doing to Sonny? He knew Sonny thought Rico was vulnerable, 'cause he didn't know as much about the Company's habits. He was wrong, though, and Rico knew it in his bones. That knowledge wasn't an asset here. The knowing was already wearing Sonny down, 'cause that was the point. Not knowing. Thinking you could anticipate these whackos would only drive you crazy, only play into their hands. They wanted you to play their game. He and Sonny were flies pinned in a web, trying to outsmart the spider but oblivious to the hurricane. The spider didn't matter. And Sonny would know that, if he weren't exhausted and distracted by gnawing pain and blood loss.
Even if they saw a chance Sonny wasn't gonna be in any condition to help him take it if they were here much longer. So all Rico could do was try to keep it together in his own head long enough to give Castillo time to figure out what had gone down. 'Cause he couldn't count on these dudes making a mistake. He just hoped they left enough pieces of him and Sonny for Castillo to find.
Staring at the Sun
by
amonitrate
11. Pinned
They'd taken Sonny first, hours ago, and left him alone with his worry. Sonny's fear for his family had spread to Rico like some kind of virus, multiplying while he waited, burning in his blood. Did they know about Valerie? Angelina was probably beyond their reach. But what about his mother, his grandfather? It was almost a relief when the door slammed open again and it was his turn to be dragged into the unknown.
What was the point of all of this? Sonny seemed to think their captors wanted something; but so far no one had asked him any questions. Besides the knock on the head they had yet to do much more than humiliate him. Seemed like a lot of effort. Must be a reason behind it.
Maybe they were doing it for kicks.
Cold tile under his feet. Back in the shower room? His wrists were released but before he had a chance to enjoy the freedom they were cuffed back together in front of his body.
"Hey, how 'bout something to eat, huh?"
He was shoved to his knees from behind, buttons from his captor's shirt digging into his back, an arm around his throat to hold him still. A thrill of panic settled down to a simmer when his air wasn't cut off. He'd learned enough not to fight but the need to do something sent him babbling.
"Ease up, buddy. Not like I'm going anywhere."
Strong hands on his feet, and he couldn't stop himself from kicking out in surprise. The grip on his throat squeezed until stars burst behind his eyes. Then all at once he was released, coughing and wheezing. He heard retreating footsteps over the freight train in his skull. After a few more minutes he regained enough breath to reach for his throat only to find that he couldn't lift his hands.
He couldn't move. His hands and feet were secured to what felt like some kind of bolt in the floor. He yanked at the chains but all that got him was a pair of sore wrists.
"What the hell is this all about?" His shout bounced back unanswered.
Screaming into the emptiness and pinned down like an animal - he must look the fool. A giggle boiled up. He'd played naked Twister once, in his wilder days. 'Cept for the chains and the fact that he was solo the position was remarkably similar. Of course, this game was bound to end much less pleasantly than Twister.
He lost track of time. Again. Not that he'd had any real idea what the hell time it was to begin with. It was quiet, real quiet, and that started to get on his nerves. He caught himself whistling the ditty from "Bridge Over the River Kwai." Stopped that in its tracks. But at least it was a sound. He missed the familiar whir of the air conditioner.
His stomach knotted itself up. Given his naked ass and his humiliating position, not to mention the sick pounding in his head, last thing he wanted was food, but his stomach was too dumb to know the difference. Not that food would be an option any time soon. Their captors didn't seem too worried about piddling things like food and water.
Water. What he wouldn't give for a nice tall glass of water, ice cubes floating on the surface. Or iced tea, no sugar, a pretty wedge of lemon perched on the lip of the glass. Maybe something fruity with a splash of rum and one of those pink paper umbrellas. Yeah.
A throaty snarl shattered his beverage fantasy. Rico froze. What the hell... Another snarl, deeper this time, edged with teeth. He yanked on his hands, turning his head back and forth, trying to see despite the blindfold. His throat closed and his heart tried to leap through his rib cage.
There was a dog in here with him. A fucking wolf, by the sound of it. His first partner, back in NYC, had got off taking him to see "Cujo" about a year before Raphael bought it. Davis had laughed his ass off when Rico had to leave the theatre in the middle of the film. He fucking hated dogs. Always had. When he was little his mother used to scare him and Raphael with stories about how the police used german shepards on the islands, and his grandfather had the scars to prove it.
Snarl and a bark, like a lion's roar. Right in his ear. Rico jerked back but the chains wouldn't let him get far enough. He could feel the beast's hot breath on his cheek.
"Get this fucking animal offa me!" His voice was too high-pitched but he didn't give a damn. Cujo growled and snapped and he could hear raucous laughter behind him.
"Whattsa matter, detective? Dontcha like my pal here? I think he likes you."
"Go to hell!" Rico tried to stop himself from struggling but his body wouldn't obey. All it knew was the sound of angry dog.
"Already have." It sounded like Baldy, but he couldn't be sure. "That's where I picked up my little buddy."
"Where's Sonny?" Anything to get his mind off the dog.
"Your partner?" Baldy laughed again. By the sound of it, Cujo made a lunge for Rico's throat and was pulled back at the last second. So Cujo was on a leash. Maybe. Hopefully. "Right about now I think he's in Southeast Asia."
And what the hell was that supposed to mean?
Baldy let Cujo take a few more shots at him and then dragged the hell-beast away, laughing the whole time. Leaving him alone. Again. With the quiet.
And his worry. Southeast Asia. Vietnam. What were they doing to Sonny? He knew Sonny thought Rico was vulnerable, 'cause he didn't know as much about the Company's habits. He was wrong, though, and Rico knew it in his bones. That knowledge wasn't an asset here. The knowing was already wearing Sonny down, 'cause that was the point. Not knowing. Thinking you could anticipate these whackos would only drive you crazy, only play into their hands. They wanted you to play their game. He and Sonny were flies pinned in a web, trying to outsmart the spider but oblivious to the hurricane. The spider didn't matter. And Sonny would know that, if he weren't exhausted and distracted by gnawing pain and blood loss.
Even if they saw a chance Sonny wasn't gonna be in any condition to help him take it if they were here much longer. So all Rico could do was try to keep it together in his own head long enough to give Castillo time to figure out what had gone down. 'Cause he couldn't count on these dudes making a mistake. He just hoped they left enough pieces of him and Sonny for Castillo to find.