Till Deceived Do We Part

I ignored Flint. I ignored his hissed words of fear. I ignored the road, the signs of rules and general conduct. I ignored the world. What I didn’t ignore was the feeling of power. Of control. I had the power and control, I decided what happened and what didn’t. I controlled the accelerator, the brakes, the whole car. I decided whether we crashed into a tree and died. I decided whether or not we went where we were supposed to do, but mainly I decided what, in general, the end outcome was.

Now if only real life was like this. If I had that sort of power, I would have Zane making wise cracks at myself and Flint back at the base. I would have him giving me silly lectures, taunting me with nursery rhymes and telling me foolish killing tricks that actually worked. If I had the power, I would make sure the ones who had takem him would pay. As it was, I didn’t... but I was trying my damnedest to make it happen. And I desperately wished all it took was keys to start the ignition to get there, but it didn’t.

“No wonder Jake doesn’t give you fast cars.” Flint ground out, anger and a slight inkling of fear in his eyes. So Flint didn’t like driving fast? Now that was interesting.

“If they weren’t meant to go fast, why is the car capable of it?”

Isaiah didn’t have a home. He didn’t have a house or for that matter, a cardboard box. However, what he did have, was a bar. It was a huge hit-for criminals, that is. But who I am to judge? The bar itself was quite popular, usually bringing in a minimum of ten grand a week. Why he didn’t own a house, I didn’t know. It catered to most needs, including a certain urge men tended to acquire. Out of all the things Isaiah did, that would be the one I looked down on the most. Having women selling themselves out in the back rooms? That was just despicable, and I felt ashamed for women in general. They gave us all a bad name, especially myself being blonde.

And the weirdest thing about Isaiah? His debt. He was rich, very much so, but refused to pay off certain debts. And why? He thought they were ‘unjustly’. He had many people mad at him for that, and many days I found myself surprised he was still alive.

The bar was in a shady part of the neighbourhood, making it even more popular to that group of people. Police were afraid of going down this way, and I’m sure they had plenty reasons to be. In each of the houses there were at least five guns and two people who knew how to properly use them. In each house there was either enough drugs and equipment to blow the whole neighbourhood up, or enough stolen goods to feed all the hungry and waif in Africa. All in all, this place was messed.

Flint had his gun out before we even reached the first turn down road, which was the first among many. I left being armed to him as I kept my eyes open. He was doing the same, this time not leaving all the work to me. I didn’t like this area, and he liked it even less. I would never admit to being scared down here, but if anything I felt remotely resembled the emotion of being frightened, I would admit that this place caused it. I could hold my own, but against hundreds of armed thugs? I’m good, but not that good.

Shortly after the fifth turn, people came in view. Some lounging on the sides of roads, other arming and cleaning guns. Some doing so while chugging back a pack of beer. Flint tensed, his hand now gripping his gun tighter as I continued on. Many of the men stopped what they were doing to ogle the car, but I left them no time to come up. I just kept going, to the heart of the neighbourhood.

You can always tell you’re getting close when the amount of people outside grows. The bar was two stories, not including the basement. Anyone who broke the rules went down to the basement... which was basically the equivalent of our torture room in the base. The only difference was we were sanitary, Isaiah didn’t care about cleanliness where he tortured people. I guess in that field you didn’t have to care, but what did I know?

The first story, the ground floor, was the bar. It was fairly large, and from the outside it looked like one of those old wooden taverns. On the inside, not so much. The inside was metal. Pure steel. Soundless and bulletproof. No windows and only one door... well, that we knew about. I’m sure Isaiah wasn’t stupid enough to have only one door.

The second story was split into two parts. First part was Isaiah’s office and sleeping quarters, and who knew what else. The second was the rooms where the men would go off to... well, to ‘quench’ their needs.

I finally settled for parking against the sidewalk, knowing no where was truly safe for the car. But I would personally make Isaiah pay for the damages if anything happened to it.

This was when I hesitated. To take my gun, or leave it? The bouncers would take it at the door, for no weapons were allowed in. So I could either leave it with them, or all the way out at the car...

I settled for what Flint was doing, which was taking it with him. I suppose that was better, even if having their greasy hands on my replacement gun made me cringe. Now, if this had been my baby, my gun... no way in hell would they be touching it. But sadly, I still hadn’t gotten it back.

I locked the doors, whether it was pointless or not. Flint was tense, I could see that, as we went to stand in line. It wasn’t a physical thing he was letting off, it was just a slight tightness in his eyes. Flint may find Isaiah funny, but he hated the process of getting to him. Usually when we needed in a place, all we would have to do was flash a gun and be granted access... but what happens when you have a boat load of criminals with guns who try the same thing constantly? It doesn’t work.

The line was slow. Very slow. And there were times I wanted to just go hit the bouncer to get me in... but I knew it wasn’t worth it. For one, they were trained to shoot anyone who tried to physically get their way in, and for the second reason, I was blonde. He’d probably find it a turn on, as sick as that was.

By the time we did get to the front, I had managed to calm Flint down. But of course it was at my own physical pain... or in this case, annoyance. After hitting the second guy who had the nerve to grab my ass, Flint couldn’t help laughing. And I couldn’t resist hitting him... but that only hindered his amusement for a couple minutes, until two more guys did the same thing. Stupid men.

“Gun.” The bouncer said, no question in his voice. I handed him mine, albeit grudgingly, and Flint did the same. After going through a metal detector and getting our knives off of us, we were finally in.

The first door led to another door, which kept the sound from escaping outside. As soon as we walked in, the music slammed into both of us. It was loud and deafening, and the base pounded through our bodies. There were a couple tables against the side and some tools at the wall long bar, but other than that, the whole thing was a dance floor. A mesh of sweaty bodies against one another; couldn’t say it appealed to me.

Flint and I made our way over to the bar, ignoring the many people bumping into us. When we finally did reach the bar, we had to wait yet again. So by the time the bartender did come to us, I was in a bad mood. Flint seemed to enjoying himself now, though. But that may have has something to do with the brunette rubbing against him. I had one word for that; ew.

“What can I get ya’?” He asked, in a tone that said he wasn’t too pleased with being stuck on bartending duty.

“Isaiah.” Interest sparked in his eyes as they roamed my body.

“Really? He’s busy, sugar, how about settling for someone else?” He asked, leaning over the bar, bringing his beer breath all the more closer to my face.

“Tell him Andrayka’s here. He’ll make time.” When the bartender went to protest, I narrowed my eyes. “Now.” Only when I shot him a glare, did he move to the phone at the back, a spark of fear now in his eyes. If I had never mastered my glare, I’m sure my life would be a lot harder.

The bartender returned shortly, curiosity in his eyes now, replacing the fear. Interesting. What had dear Isaiah said to him?

“The guards have been given the go ahead. Go up the stairs and turn left to his office.” I nodded and stood. “Oh, and sugar?” My teeth ground as I glanced back at him. “I’m here all night.” I shot him another glare as Flint’s laughter filled my ears. I glanced at him, to find a few new marks on his neck, and amusement for my nickname in his eyes.

“Sugar? You’re a lot of things, Drake, sweet isn’t one of them.” I shoved him before replying.

“Hey Flint? I think you’ve got something on your neck. Live it up, buddy, ‘cause soon you’re gonna be changing diapers.” That sobered him up quickly. I quickened my pace so I wouldn’t have to hear his reply, for this could, and would, go on all night. I had no doubt about that.

The crowd thinned out as we approached the staircase, seeming as if there was something wrong with it. Personally I never saw any danger in that area, but then again, four 6'5 body guards with bulging muscles didn’t effect me anymore. Now, hand them all a machine gun, and yeah, I may be a little freaked. But all they had on them were a couple of a wimpy hand-guns. Now don’t get me wrong, hand-guns can be good... it just depends on your brand and make.

The first guard stopped me, raising a hand. I obliged, knowing there was no way around it. Once I ‘assumed the position’, which he actually did say, he began his pat down. Now this was the part that got to me the most. Fine, take my weapons. Force me through crowed drunken idiots, but don’t touch me. That was my rule, but all I could do if I had any hope of seeing Isaiah was clench my teeth. And I did it... only swearing at the man twice when his hand lingered too long.

Flint was grinning again as the guards waved us up. Now would be the fun part.

Isaiah was stupid, for he dabbled into the drugs and gambling occasionally. And the most common way for a thug to go down, is to get involved into that stuff. So when I first heard of him, when a hit I pulled first led me to hearing his name, what did I think? I thought he would be some guy with too long of hair, in ripped clothing, always drunk and looking for his next buck.

What did I find? A rich groomed attractive man who was never caught out of a suit... well, unless you were one of the women he hired. But I preferred not to think of that.

I ignored the crude pictures on the wall, while Flint stopped to admire them, and knocked on the door of his office. It only took a second before another guard opened it. Isaiah was many things, but he certainly had well security. This guard was even bigger and taller than the last batch. Where did he get these guys? Thugs-R-Us?

“Andrayka!” Came Isaiah’s voice as we stepped past the guard.

Isaiah was fairly tall himself, at 6'1. Even though I have never personally seen him fight, and can’t even picture it, he seems to have the build for it. Toned shoulders and arms, a flat stomach and legs that didn’t seem to have anything wrong with them. His shoulders were broad, showing distinctively in his black suit, where his face held that... soft rugged look? There was no other way to describe his pointed yet light rounded cheeks, his defined yet smoothed jaw, or his breathtaking eyes. That was one thing about Isaiah, his eyes were gorgeous, I even got Zane, a very straight man, to admit that.

They were big eyes, always taking in what was around them, and they held the colour of a dark aqua. It always felt like you were swimming in a more pronounced ocean when you stared into his eyes.

“You can leave.” He said, waving a hand to the guard who immediately followed Isaiah’s wishes.

Isaiah’s office wasn’t too big, not something you’d picture a rich thug to live in. It was a cozy small place, even with a small fake fire in the corner. It held that cottage vibe to it, which to me, revealed a lot about Isaiah’s personality.

“It’s been too long, Andrayka. And I’ve just been waiting to try out my new purchase!” One thing about Isaiah? Even when sober and not on anything, he was a very enthusiastic man. And judging by his eyes, he hadn’t done anything for a while.

I eyed him as he opened one of his shelves. Being unarmed with anyone didn’t sit well with me, but I tried my hardest not to show it. I just waited to see what he pulled out. When he finally did pull put what he was looking for out, I was sure my face showed shock.

Flint laughed as I stared at the silver helmet. It looked like a football helmet, and when Isaiah put it on, while wearing a suit, he looked absolutely ridiculous, making Flint laugh even harder.

“I figure this way you could still have the pleasure of smashing my head against the wall, and I could have the pleasure of not ending up in a coma.” He smiled, as if it was a brilliant idea.

I used to wonder why Isaiah allowed me to beat information out of him, when he has body guards waiting on his hand and foot. When I brought this question to Jake, he merely said it was self preservation. Isaiah knew where I was from, knew who I was which many people didn’t know, and knew my rep. He figured if he went along with us, there would be no foul. For if he took a chance with myself, Flint, or even Zane, it would certainly start a war with the base. And there was no way Isaiah would allow that.

“Well, Drake, what do y-“

”Don’t call me that.” I said, my eyes scanning the room.

“No one will hear. Besides, I don’t have my room bugged. Would I do that to you?” When I merely looked at him, he changed tactics. “Andrayka just seems so... formal? Plus it’s too feminine for you, on the outside it fits, but since we have that heart to heart connection, Drake just seems better.” Again he smiled, showing off his white teeth. How did he manage to run a company when he so often sounded like a child?

“Why don’t you sit down.” I said, facing him fully now. Flint stopped laughing, but his lips were still twitching.

“Ooh, a new tactic. No head bashing today? And I was so wishing to test this out!” He knocked his knuckles on the helmet before putting it away. He sat down before resting his hands on his desk. “Please, Drake, have a seat also. I always feel so terrible about leaving a woman on her feet.” I glared at him for that one, but pulled up a chair. Flint did the same, and for the first time that night, Isaiah turned to him. “Ah! Flint! Efficient, but not bloody. I like your style.”

“Isaiah, good to see you doing well. Let’s try to make this civil, alright Drake?” I shot him a look but remained silent. I knew I wouldn’t be smashing his head in tonight, we needed too much information, and for that we needed his brain cells in one piece.

“Right down to business? Or would you guys like a drink. We just got this new shipment i-“

”Business.” Isaiah shot Flint a look, as if hoping he’d say otherwise.

“It’s urgent.” Flint said, actually supporting what I said. Isaiah sobered slightly before turning back to me.

“You know I’ll tell you guys anything. Shoot.”

“I wish.” I murmured, earning a laugh from him. “First thing’s first, Isaiah. If this gets out-“

”I wouldn’t tell a soul!” He even added the right hand over the heart.

“Isaiah,” said Flint leaning forward, all seriousness on his face now. “For this, if you did tell, you’d have Jake and the whole base to deal with. This is not a light matter. Got it?” Isaiah nodded then cut me off as I was about to speak.

“I assume this is about your dear accomplice, then?” I sat up straighter, as did Flint. “Ask what you wish, then.”

“How about you tell us everything you know.” I hissed, my anger rising. He knew about Zane! He knew something, and he was going to play games? Drag this out?! No! I’d use my bare hands to rip out every single one of his teeth if he did. I would cause him pain.

“I would love to, Drake, but you know how these things work. If I get caught telling you information, my head’s on the line. However, if I were to be threatened, which your presence is doing, and asked questions, that is let off. We’re in a world of cowards. We can answer questions, not just openly speak it.” Flint quickly stopped me from launching at him.

“He’s right, Drake. So sit down!” He hissed in my ear, his arm across my chest. I left one lingering glare on Isaiah before sitting back. Flint eyed me before also sitting down, but his bunched muscles showed his un-relaxed state.

“Where is he?” I finally asked when they both remained silent.

“I don’t know the specifics.”

“What do you know?” Flint held up his hand before he could comment, which was probably the best for both.

“Drake, I’m asking the questions now. Isaiah, what about the location is identifying that you know of?” So efficient, so Flint, so... slow. At this Isaiah leaned back.

“I have not seen it, or heard of it in detail. I just heard the mention of tomb stones in passing. Do what you wish with that information.”

“Do you know the people with him?”

“Yes, the same people you assume. I also know that some pretty blonde in this room has a hit on her hear.” He said with a smile, his eyes turning back to me. He dared smile while I was shaking in rage? I was going t-

“Isaiah, we’ll get that information another time. We’re here for Zane. Do you know their next move?”

“I know generals.”

“What are the generals?” How could Flint handle that? Asking every little question, every little thing. I would go insane... heck, I was going insane watching. Isaiah turned back to me, his eyes gentle now.

“They want you. Alive. They plan on causing chaos.” As if they haven’t been doing so?

“When and how?”

“No idea, and a lot of deaths.” Once again, as if they haven’t already?

“Do you know any names involved in the mess?” Isaiah fell silent, his mind showing on his face. He was thinking, and as far as my reading people skills went, he was telling the truth.

“Weler... no, it was-“

”Myron Welner?” He perked up at that, nodding his head like a kid who had gotten the right answer in class.

“Yes. That’s the name. I’m afraid I know no more, but I wouldn’t take Myron lightly. He is-“

”Dead.” I finished for him. “Zane’s hand.” Isaiah blinked in shock before smiling, once again revealing his teeth.

“Can’t say I’m sorry. He beat up one my girls pretty bad. Messed up man.” We agreed on that.

“Do you know anyone who may know something?” Asked Flint, assuming the roll again.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Do y-“ I cut him off now.

“Is he alive?”

“I haven’t heard specifically on Zane for a whi-“

”Is he alive?” My voice was deadly, and it must have shown on my face also, for he paled. And Isaiah never paled with me. He would be afraid of course, he would do as I say without question, but he was never truly afraid. I had always valued his knowledge far more than the thought of killing him, but now, now I would kill him. I would kill him for Zane, if need came to be.

“Last I heard, yes.” The anger washed off my face as an incredible amount of fear and stress lifted off my chest. I could breath, I could think. Zane was alive... that’s all that mattered now. There was no doubt he was in pain, but if we could get to him in time, if we could do it, he would be home safe. And then we could finally move on. “However,” added Isaiah slowly, gauging my reaction carefully, “from what I heard, he’s not in a good shape.” That I already knew, so I ignored it.

“Isa-“ I snapped my head over to Flint as his eyes snapped downward towards the noise. His eyes met mine for a brief second before he flipped out his phone. It had to be Jake, no one else would call. Not now. Not when we were doing what we were. I tried to tell myself that maybe Jake was just calling to check in, to get a progress report, but something in my gut didn’t believe that. This was more, and I didn’t think I would like it.

“We’re at Isaiah’s.” I watched Flint’s face, trying to read him, trying to figure out what Jake was saying, but the only thing I got was a slight paling of complexion. This couldn’t be good. “Of course. Right away. GPS is on. Got it. Yes, no detours. Half an hour.” He flipped the phone shut, his eyes meeting mine, silently conveying fear and the need to get back to base. And if Flint said half an hour, that meant he would speed... and for Flint to speed, it had to be bad.

“Drake. Now.” He gave a quick nod to Isaiah who was frowning slightly. I would ask Flint once we got to the car, for I was sure the company we were in now shouldn’t know what was going on.

“Oh, and Drake?” I glanced back but didn’t stop. “Please be careful, and good luck.” Luck? Judging by Flint’s actions, I was going to need a truck load of horseshoes to get out of this one.