Chapter 1 An Unexpected Guest
Victor Sullivan had always liked cigars. That is, he had ever since he had learned not to inhale the smoke to keep from losing his lunch. To Sully, there was something intrinsically relaxing about smoking a cigar, of any brand, that never got old. There was something about it that was calming to him. Soothing even. It was as if he could rid himself of his many troubles, or at least the stress of dealing with them, with one gentle puff of smoke from a cigar. Sully was, at this moment indulging in one. Admittedly, it wasn't the best cigar. It was a cigar that he had bought from a gas station on one of many stops on his long journey back. And boy, what a stressful journey it was!
The cigar was cheap, as far as cigars went, and only made for a somewhat satisfying smoke. Not that he would have expected any different. It did come from a five and dime after all. It was not a Cuban cigar; those were much finer, more chic. Sully sighed and snuffed out the smoldering end of his cigar in a nearby ashtray and put it back in the lapel pocket of his blazer. He always kept his smokes until they were almost completely burned out, and this particular one was only burned through halfway. Sully liked to make the little things, like his cigars, last as long as he could. Adventurer's habit he called it. Sully, now seventy four, his hair gone completely white and liver spots and wrinkles dotting his skin needed his down time.
He didn't get out as much as he used too.
Sully had been thinking all evening. He had been trying to remember something. He knew it, whatever it was, was important. It had something to do with the weather. Sully scowled, he hated not being able to remember things. Sometimes the cigars helped with his memory. Sully never really understood why, but with a cigar in his hand and a warm cloud of gray smoke floating around him, his mind seemed to achieve certain clarity. Perhaps it was because they relaxed him, and set him at ease. During those times, he found that could cast his mind back farther than other times. He could... remember things, things that normally escaped his mind's reach. This time was different.
And it was annoying the hell out of him.
At this moment the door to his left opened and a tanned, muscular, and the still somewhat handsome figure of his protégé entered the room. The figure was Nathan Drake. Or just Nate to Sully.
Sully smiled, it had been a long time since he had seen Nate in person. Too long. "So... the host of tonight's dinner party has finally arrived." he said.
"Sully!" Nate exclaimed, his face breaking into an expression of surprised delight, like a young boy who had found an unexpected Christmas present. "Sully! I-I can't believe it. It's you!"
"Yeah. It's me all right."
"I-" Nate started, clearly lost for words.
Sully chuckled at this, "How you doin' kid?"
"Oh uh, I'm fine, I'm fine… been taking care of things at home, taking care of the kids. Business has been pretty good…" Nate said, as he shut the door behind him with a gentle click "What about you Sully? It's been a few weeks. You look like you've been taking good care of yourself." He added, gesturing to the fresh pile of ashes in the ashtray.
Sully scowled, "You were never one for humor Nate."
"It's nothing personal Sully, but you should probably stop smoking."
"Old habit kid. Can't break it." Sully said. "But yeah, I'm still kickin' around boyo."
"Yeah I know." Nate said, seeming slightly unsure of himself. In an instant, his expression sobered as he turned back to his visitor, "Sully, I just can't believe this. What are you doing here?"
"I thought I'd drop in; see how my former business partner's getting along."
"That was uh, very friendly of you Sully."
Sully smiled, "I think 'neighborly' is the word you're looking for Nate."
"Sully I –" Nate started.
"I know, you didn't think I was coming."
"No, I didn't to be honest." Nate admitted, "I'm sorry Sully. Elena told me about you being stuck in Mombasa and I figured you wouldn't come."
Sully shook his head at this, "You worry about me too much kid."
"Maybe I do. I don't know, it's just been so long..." Nate said.
"I know."
"So how did you get in here, exactly?"
"That kid of yours, Cassie. She let me in."
"She - she did?" Nate asked, "For Christ's sake... I need to talk to her. Cassie! Cassie!" he yelled.
"She's asleep Nate." Sully explained.
Nate stared at him. "How do you know?"
"It's not important." Sully said with a wave of his hand, "Look, you might want to call Lena, let her know I'm here." he added helpfully.
"Why didn't you call?"
"You didn't answer my messages, or any of the five emails I sent you. By the way kid, I'd appreciate it if you could pick up the phone sometime. I got a little tired of talking to the answering machine."
"Sorry Sully, we were a little busy. The message box is a little overflowed," Nate stumbled on his words for a moment, obviously unsure how to handle the situation, "okay, okay! I'm calling her right now."
"Hmm?" Sully looked at Nate. He usually wasn't this awkward, "Where is she Nate?"
"She's at the airport, picking up Sam."
Sam. Now Nate's behavior made more sense. There had been some… uncomfortableness between the two brothers ever since it had come to light that Sam had gotten Nate involved in the deadly Libertalian treasure hunt, not to pay off a bounty, but out of his own greed. Nate wasn't the type to hold grudges though, as Sully knew well. It had taken a while, but things had been on the mend between the brothers for years after the events with Avery's treasure. The anger, however mild, that Nate had quietly bore against his brother had been extinguished. Then there was the diamond heist in South Africa three years ago.
Damn thing. Sully had tried to dissuade Sam from taking that job, but he couldn't keep him away from it. Shortly thereafter he had to get himself involved in the whole mess to protect Sam… and narrowly avoided an early grave when the Fico coal power plant in Johannesburg exploded in the process.
Nate had been furious when he had heard about it. Sully didn't blame him either. It couldn't be easy to maintain a reputation as a sterling photojournalist and historian while a prominent family member is breaking the law and getting shot at. It hadn't been easy.
"Bye honey. Take care…" Nate winced as he finished his phone call. Sully noticed this unsurprisingly. Lena had been on Nate's case for years. It had been especially bad during the Libertarian fiasco, where he, Sully, got saddled with joyless the task of keeping her from filing for a divorce after Nate's deception. A moment rarely passed where Sully didn't thank god that he was good with women. "So Sully," Nate turned to him, "how long have you been here?"
"Oh, about an hour or two."
"Huh." Nate said, "Hey do you know anything about a recent discovery of buried Nazi gold in Poland?"
"Nazi gold? God damn it, Nate." Sully scowled. He hated it when the kid would start rambling about history and treasure hunting in the middle of a conversation. But it wasn't the history or the treasure hunting that got on his nerves. It was that such discussions usually ended up with Nate bragging about the latest issue of National Geographic that he was featured in. "Don't change the subject on me."
"It's just a thing I've been researching." Nate said. "Look, I'm just trying to be a good host."
"Like hell you are."
"I am!" Nate protested. "Kind and considerate like you always told me, remember?"
"Kind and considerate? Ha! You haven't even offered me any food let alone a drink." Sully said. "Do you know what it's like having to look at that fantastic fruit bowl over there," he gestured to a giant blue bowl on the countertop that was filled to the brim with pineapples, peaches, and plums among other foods, "and not be able to touch any of it?"
"Sorry Sully, do you want me to get you anything?" Nate smiled.
"Nate if I want something I'll get it myself. I'm not that old."
"Of course not." Nate said soothingly. "Would you like some food?"
"No thanks." Sully said.
"Then what was the guilt trip for? I thought you were hungry!"
"I changed my mind."
Nate sighed in exasperation, "Okay Sully. Can I get you something to drink?"
Sully laughed, he was having fun with this. Nate clearly was not the type who was used to being the host. When Sully had come over in previous years it was usually Lena who did most of the serving, while Nate talked. However, now that Nate mentioned it, he was thirsty. The only thing Sully could drink on the plane was Alcohol, soda upset his stomach, but they didn't have any. Not even water. Just soda. So, he hadn't drank anything in nine hours. Sully was parched.
"Yeah."
"What do you want?"
"Do you have any Coors around here?"
"Coors? The beer? Uh - I think I have a pack left." Nate said.
Sully grimaced, "Thanks Nate."
"Any time Sully." Nate replied, giving the old man a brief pat on the back as he went to fetch the beer from the fridge. Sully watched as his friend walked away, his footfalls falling heavily on the hardwood floor. He sighed and pulled out his cigar and surveyed it for a moment before putting it back in his pocket. Suddenly Sully remembered.
"Hey Nate! Nate!" he yelled.
"What?"
"Is it supposed to rain tonight?"
"I think so!" Nate replied.
"Hmm…" Sully muttered, "That's what I thought."
Suddenly there was a loud boom outside, then a pause followed by another boom, like a thunderclap. Sully cocked his head in interest and listened as a pounding rain rapidly descended on the house. There it was. Sully smiled and leaned back in his chair as another flash of lightning lit up the windowsills.
He liked the rain.
...
"Ahh. That sure hits the spot boyo." Sully sighed happily as he placed his now emptied beer can on the floor beside him. Nate noticed this and squirmed uncomfortably in his seat,
"Sully please,"
"I know kid. I know. I'm not supposed to put it there." Sully said, as he bent over, picked up the can, and put it on the table beside him. As he did so he could feel his back pop with a dull cracking sound.
Shit.
Sully groaned and gently rested his back against the chair as a spike of pain shot up his spine like a searing flame. Damn back. Sully had been dealing with back problems ever since he had caught a shard of metal in his spine during that operation in South Africa. His doctors had told him to take it easy and try to exert himself as little as possible. The problem was, Sully never knew when he was moving too much or not. So, he would constantly get random flashes of pain. He gripped the head of the stick next to the chair tightly as the waves of pain passed through him.
He had to walk with a cane now.
In a way, Sully didn't mind the presence of the cane, or his walking stick as he called it. 'Walking stick' sounded less old than cane to him and he liked it that way. In fact, Sully felt that having it around gave him a certain kind of classiness. A sort of style he had lacked in earlier years. Some said he looked quite elegant, like an old gentleman. Others, especially certain friends of his, said that he, with his snowy hair, bushy mustache, and cane looked a great deal like Mr. Monopoly at high-class socials.
Sully was not amused by the comparison.
"Sully…? Are you okay?" Nate asked, concern evident in his eyes. He had clearly noticed Sully's discomfort.
"It's nothin' you need to worry about kid." Sully grimaced.
"Are you sure?"
Sully sighed. This was just going to be a great evening. He could tell. Half the people still weren't home and his host was already fretting over him like he was an invalid! "I'm fine Nate." He said, "I just need to take it easy."
"Yeah…" Nate said, "I guess we're all getting a little old huh?"
"Tell me about it."
"I just, I don't know." Nate shook his head; "I hate seeing you like this Sully."
"Like what?"
"All old and wrinkled, kinda like Mr. Monopoly."
Sully scowled at this, "That isn't funny Nate. Do you have any idea how many times I've heard that joke already?"
Nate laughed, "Sorry Sully I couldn't resist. It's well you know… you look so much like him with the hair, the suit, the mustache, and that cane. With a top hat you could be in a Hasbro commercial!"
Sully ignored him and proceeded to relight his cigar. He was feeling a little tense. "Goddammit Nate." He muttered in irritation. It was moments like these where he considered shaving his mustache. He might look like that fellow on the Quaker Oats can without it but at least he wouldn't be the butt of any more 'Mr. Monopoly' jokes. What a relief that would be!
"Hey – hey Sully."
"Hmm?"
"What happens when I pass Go?"
"I think I've had enough of this Nate."
"I don't think that answers my question." Nate grinned.
"Fine." Sully said tiredly, "You get 250 more reasons to stop making that joke!"
Nate laughed again but upon seeing the look on his mentor's face he quickly sobered up. "Sorry Sully." He said with as much sincerity as he could muster.
Sully didn't offer anything in response but a few puffs of smoke.
The two sat in silence for a while. Nate turned to one of his many historical books, this one on Ancient Chinese history and began perusing it with great intensity. Sully, for his part, contented himself by listening to the rhythmic pounding of the rain upon Nate's northwestern house. Rains always made a new and distinct sound to Sully, or they did during the many times he would stay up late at night and listen to them. Some rains would make a steady pit pat, pit pat, pit pat sound, which gave him the impression that a giant hand was tapping discretely on the roof. Other rains however, especially the monsoons in India and Australia, would descend upon shelter like a rumble of thunder with a rapid thump, thump, thump sound that made Sully feel like he was underneath a waterfall. He could listen to a steady rain for hours. Days, even, if it lasted that long.
Sully often did his best thinking in these rains, especially with a cigar in hand. The rhythmic pounding of the water and the roar of the wind played well with his mind. The rains made him feel alive, more aware of his surroundings. It was a satisfying reprieve from all the stress and confusion he too often experienced on the computer. Sully often wondered how anyone got anything done on the computer. The goddamned machines were loaded with distractions.
Sully took another puff of his cigar and smiled. It felt good to be back in his element.
"So when will Lena be back?" he asked between smokes.
"Uh she said eight fifteen, so in another half hour or so." Nate said.
That sounded good to Sully. He didn't want to have to stay up past midnight for a dinner party.
"Hey Sully listen to this," Nate said, "Arthurian legend tells of a vast treasure of diamonds and gold buried under Stonehenge,"
Sully turned to his protégé and held up a hand, "Hold it, hold it. What was that Nate?"
"Arthurian legend." Nate said, holding up a large battered brown book for Sully to see. Sully glanced at it with mild interest. It read A History of English Kings on the cover and was as thick as a whopper.
"I thought you were reading some book on Asian History. Or what about that thing with the Nazi gold in Poland you were talking about earlier?"
Nate shrugged, "I got bored."
"It's not like you to get bored with history Nate." Sully said.
"So? Arthurian legend is incredibly interesting Sully."
"Kid, you know that's a book on English kings right?"
"Yup."
"Then what does that have to do with Arthurian legend?"
"Everything." Nate said brightly, "You see Sully, there's a section in here that references Annales Cambriae, which specifically states that Arthur was King of England, or a ruler of some kind in the early fifth century."
"Annales… what?" Sully asked, very confused as to what Nate was talking about.
"Annales Cambriae, Sully. It means 'Welsh Annals' in old English." Nate continued, as he flipped through a few pages, "Anyway, Uther Pendragon, who was Arthur's father, was buried at Stonehenge, probably near the beginning of the fifth century. Apparently… yes here it is, a large fortune was buried with Uther, to comfort him in the afterlife probably, in the form of two large gold dragons… that's got to be worth millions Sully. Incredible huh?"
There was no response to his query.
Nate shut his book and setting it down beside him, "Sully?"
Sully stared at Nate and shook his head. The kid could talk the ear off a priest when he got started on history. This time he'd been on about some Arthurian legend for the past fifty minutes, at least he had from what Sully could see by his watch. He always got a bad feeling whenever Nate got going on a historical tangent. It usually led to the packing of bags, a one-way trip to some misbegotten part of the world, and a confrontation with some force of evil. Nate, as Sully knew well, had extremely poor impulse control.
"Sully?"
"Damn it Nate." Sully said, "After all these years, are you planning on another adventure?"
A/N: This is a reposted and edited version of my original Uncharted fanfiction: Uncharted 5, which was put on hold because of various problems with the pacing and plot. Enjoy :)