Cliff Ryder - The Ties That Bind

"Who's the boss?" Jason asked.

"You'll find out, and then wish you hadn't," Chris said. He and Troy lifted him and began carrying him to the building.

"You don't mean Boris, do you?" he asked. "Boris Ambros?"

They stopped suddenly. "How'd you know…" Troy demanded.

"He's a spy, you dumb-ass," Chris snarled. "How do you think he knows?"

"Oh," Troy said, then they kept moving.

The guards let them pass into the building without saying a word, and they entered the building through the same door that Jason had used before. "Say, this looks familiar," he said.

"I don't think the problem is going to be getting him to talk," Jesse said. "The problem will be getting him to shut up."

"This is what family means to you, huh, Jesse?" Tina asked. "You and Giles have a lot in common. He seems to think that his only family is money. That how you feel?"

"That how you got him so riled, Tina?" he replied. "Talk to him about his family? Do you know his mother has cancer and no insurance? He's doing what he's doing/or his family."

"You don't hurt other people for your family, you idiot," she said. "Not for money and not for anything else. A real family doesn't expect it from you and wouldn't want blood money, anyway. The ties that bind a real family together are more tightly wound than any packet of cash you'll be earning for your work today."

"Maybe," he said, shoving her along. "But I don't have a family, remember?"

"You could have," she whispered. "But you were too selfish to see it."

"Just shut it, Tina," he said.

Instead of going down into the cavern below, they went to the far side of the building, an area Jason hadn't explored before. Along the wall, six heavy metal doors were set at even intervals. Each door had a small slot at the bottom where a tray could slide through, but no windows. The lock was electronic and Jason studied it carefully as Chris opened the first door and shoved him into an empty eight-by-eight room. The floors and the walls were made of poured concrete.

"Enjoy your stay." He laughed. "I'll be seeing you real soon, hero."

Troy stepped forward and cut the ropes binding his feet together, but left his hands tied. "Don't try to escape…" he said, but Jason cut him off.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he said. "I wouldn't want to miss the chance to visit with old Boris in person."

"Yeah, whatever," Troy said. "It's your death."

They slammed the door, and Jason could hear a series of clicks as the lock was reengaged.

He listened carefully, worried that Chris might try to force himself on Tina, but from the sounds of it, they put her in the next cell over and locked her in. The lock was the same electronic model as the one on his door, and the tones were the same, too. He heard the three men leaving, but they didn't speak other than to taunt them both with a final call of, "See you soon!"

Silence descended and Jason studied the room once more. Pounding on the walls would be useless and there were no windows.

He lay down on the cold floor and pushed open the tiny slot for the tray. "Tina?" he said. "Can you hear me?"

He heard the squeak of metal and then her reply. "Yes, I can hear you," she said.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "Giles didn't hurt you, did he?"

"I'm all right," she said. "Scared witless, but physically okay."

"Good," he said.

"Jason?"

"Yes?" he replied. "What is it?"

"We're in serious trouble, aren't we?"

He tried to think of something clever to say, some lie that might soften what was coming, and knew that nothing he could say would make the situation any better. She was strong enough to know the truth, probably knew it already.

"Jason?" she repeated.

"Yes," he admitted. "We're in trouble. Big trouble."

"That's what I thought," she said. "Do you have a plan?"

"Just one for the moment," he said, sighing. He was bone tired and things weren't going to get any better in that regard anytime soon.

"Great!" she said. "What is it?"

"Pray," he replied, his voice grim. "It's pretty much all we've got left."

Several hours passed in the cold cells and they spoke very little. There wasn't much to say, despite the thoughts racing through Jason's mind. Finally, they heard the sound of boots approaching, and Jason risked one last bit of conversation.

"Remember what I've told you," he said. "Let them focus on me and answer anything they want to know. Don't make them hurt you. With any luck, they're more interested in what I know than what you know."

"With any luck," she said. "Since when have we been lucky on this trip?"

"Well," he said, "just the once."

They both laughed and it felt good to be able to do so, regardless of their circumstances. Jason got to his feet and stood waiting for them to open the door. The electronic lock was once again keyed and his door opened, revealing Troy, along with two of the uniformed guards he'd seen before.

"Come on," Troy said. He held Tina's 9 mm Russian pistol in his hand and gestured with it. "It's time to go see Boris."

Jason shrugged and stepped out of the cell. "They left you in charge?" he asked. "Desperate for help, are they?"

Troy sighed heavily. "Just please shut up, man." He glanced at the guards and they took up a position on either side of him. Both of them were armed with the Russian assault rifles, as well as handguns. Once he felt that Jason was secure, Troy unlocked Tina's cell and motioned for her to step out.

She did and he fell in behind her, telling the guards, "We're taking them to see Boris."

Both guards sniggered under their breath. Boris, Jason thought, must be a real charmer.

Their trip didn't take very long, and soon the guards led them into another concrete room. This one was decorated, however, in the tasteful style of the Spanish Inquisition. It was going to be an interesting meeting, involving no small amount of screaming and bloodshed if the tools displayed on the stainless-steel surgeon's tray were any indication.

Seated on a folding chair in the middle of the room was a massive man. His eyes barely flickered when they entered, and in Russian he instructed the guards to handcuff Tina to the manacles on the wall. They did so, hoisting her up so that her feet were dangling off the ground. It was fortunate she didn't weigh very much or her own body weight might well have dislocated her shoulders. As it was, Jason knew the pain must have been considerable. She kept her lips pressed tightly together.

"What about him, boss?" Troy asked, shoving Jason forward a step. "Where do you want him?"

"I hate speaking English to you, peasant," the man rumbled, "but you would not understand me if I spoke Russian, which is a beautiful language." He got to his feet and Troy involuntarily took a step backward.

Jason followed suit, trying to gauge their interrogator. Aside from his massive size, which was all muscle, he was completely bald, with hard eyes so dark brown they were almost black. Thin eyebrows rode over the top of them and he had a hawk nose that had clearly been broken more than once. Several scars were visible on his arms, but the real eye-catcher was the grapevine scar that ran from behind his right ear, over his throat and down beneath his shirt. Must have missed his jugular by less than an inch, Jason thought. Too bad for us.

The man wore BDU-style pants, and a black T-shirt that was stretched over his body so tightly that every movement probably came close to rendering it useless. "I will handle him myself," he said. "You may go."

Troy and the guards didn't need much more encouragement and beat a hasty exit out the door.

In Russian, Jason said, "I was hoping we could spend some time alone together."

The giant laughed, his tone cruel. "No doubt we will, Mr. Siku, in due time." He gestured to the chair. "Please, sit down."