I ignored this idea for nearly two months before it got so annoying that I ended up writing it out. So, I'm sorry to those that thought I might write fluff (as stated on my tumblr) cos that happy happy mood went to chapter 9, which isn't all that fluffy...at all. And if it's fluff, it's usually a oneshot.
Anyway: one more little comment... If anyone can figure out the connection between all my titles in this fic (including the fic title) you get an imaginary prize! (Except chapter 1. Cos its only half related to the rest of my titles. Or should I say a quarter *hehe* If you get the connections, you'll get the joke. Sorry. Bad joke :(
Chapter 1: Woman
Mark Evans sat at the table, cigarette in hand, trying not to look too nervous. In his career, being asked for by the leader of a group meant one of two things. He was either in for something very good, or he would be dead within the next hour. He only hoped it was the former. He was never in the mood to try and work his way out of getting shot in the head.
A woman screamed upstairs. Mark let out a breath, closing his eyes, and running his hands through his brown hair. He had been prying for weeks, but had not been able to find out who the source of the screaming was. He knew he had to, but he couldn't arouse too much suspicion. From what he had gathered, the woman had been under lock and key since the day Jinks had dragged her through the door, and only he and a select group of men were allowed to see her.
The door opened behind him and someone stepped into the room. He relaxed slightly. It was only one set of footsteps. Mark knew that Jinks, the leader of the group, liked to witness executions, but didn't like to be the one to carry them out.
Jinks settled down in the chair across from him, staring directly into his eyes, a technique Mark knew Jinks was using to unsettle him. Mark kept eye contact, studying him. Jinks was a heavier man, in his mid-thirties. He was bald, but his enormous beard made up for the lack of hair on the top of his head. His grey eyes were hardened, and a scar ran across his cheek. There was a knock at the door, and Mark felt his stomach sink. He knew it had to be the executioner. They had figured out who he was.
"Enter," Jinks said, his voice gravelly and rough.
Two men entered the room. One Mark recognised as Jinks' right hand man, Scotty. Scotty and Jinks couldn't have been more different. Scotty looked like he would be the head of the group. Mark had believed that until intelligence came in saying otherwise. Scotty wore finely tailored suits and his hair was always perfectly combed. His demeanour was cool and calm, and the only time he ever smiled was after he put the barrel to someone's head.
The second man that had entered, Mark recognised as one of the inner circle. They were the ones who attended the business meetings, the ones who had access to the woman. The inner circle's status was higher than the others, and the people in it were generally considered less dispensable than people outside the Circle. However, the man that Scotty was dragging in was bound, and his eyes were frightened. Mark was gaining a sudden understanding of what was about to happen.
Jinks spoke to Scotty again. "He can whimper on the floor for the moment. I'd like to talk to Jeff here first."
Scotty nodded, and Jinks turned to Mark. "I take it you know who that man is."
"The only thing I know about him is that he's in the Circle," Mark lied. In fact, he knew everything about this man, just like he knew everything about everyone in the Circle. Still, Jinks didn't need to know that.
Jinks raised an eyebrow. "And you know about the Circle? The requirements to be in it?"
"From what I've heard, you've got to be damn good at what you do, be liked pretty well by the 'Upstairs', and be able to keep your mouth shut."
"You've also got to obey orders and not suddenly get inventive when it comes to your duties," Jinks said, shooting a deadly glare at the man in the corner.
"Please," the man said.
"This is Peter," Jinks said. "Peter thought that he could drug our lady friend that we have a few rooms over. You know about her?"
"I've heard her scream on occasion."
Jinks smiled humourlessly. Scotty was still standing behind Jinks, his face expressionless.
"Yes, she can get noisy," Jinks said. "Anyway, it's our policy to frown on the drugging of our...established houseguests."
"You've destroyed her!" the man yelled with a sudden burst of courage. "Don't you see her eyes when you're in there? For God's sake man!"
"Enough!" Jinks bellowed. "Scotty. I think it's time for our friend to leave us."
A cold smile appeared on Scotty's lips. He drew a gun from his pocket and placed it against Peter's head. A few seconds later, there was an explosion from the gun and Peter fell to the ground. Scotty put the gun back in his pocket and returned to his spot behind Jinks. His face was expressionless once more.
"Now, you're wondering why I brought you up here to watch Scotty kill Peter, I expect."
Mark merely shrugged, trying to look unfazed.
"I've got an offer for you, Jeff. As soon as we found out about that little weasel, we started looking through our personnel. Since you joined two months ago, our sales have been through the roof. Jesus, man, you've made our cocaine sell for the price of gold!"
Mark shrugged again, looking a little smug.
"I don't usually let people in the Circle after only two months, but I like money, and you make me money. That makes me like you, Jeff. You can start attending the meetings on Monday mornings and Friday afternoons. Otherwise, you'll be selling like you were, with one other task."
"What's that?"
"You get to take care of Sarah."
"The woman?"
Jinks nodded. "It's fairly simple. I'll take you to see her. Follow me."
Jinks stood, and Mark followed him out of the room, leaving Scotty call someone up to deal with Peter.
Jinks talked down the corridor, filling him in on the woman's story. "About the time you joined, just before actually, I was in a pub, and along comes this woman. I can tell something's up with her, right? No woman that attractive ever comes over to me in a public place. Plus, she's posher than hell. An accent to rival Queen Victoria's she had. I spot what she's doing right away, but I play along. Get her to meet me in the middle of the day, during working hours when her bodyguards would be on a different task. I could spot them, you know, the bodyguards. I can sniff out coppers like sharks find blood. There were three men in there that had copper written all over them. Blonde man, man with a perm and a bloke about my age with highlights and a girl's jacket.
"So she agreed to meet for lunch the next day. And I had my friend Scotty follow her. He looks respectable enough to walk along the street just after people get off work, doesn't he? He followed her back to the police station. He waited outside for her to leave, and followed her to her flat. That's when he rung me. And I got together a couple of lads and made sure that she wouldn't be asking anymore questions."
"So you brought her here?"
"Initially, it was to find out what she knew about us, how much those pigs knew. After we got the information out of her, we realised she could be best suited for other purposes."
"And that's why you moved? Cause you guys were moving buildings when I joined up."
Jinks nodded. "We decided they'd be looking for us on the other side of the city. So we took the riskiest move we could. We're two streets away from the police station where she worked."
Mark smiled. "They won't look for us here."
Jinks grinned evilly. "Exactly," he said as he pulled out a key to the door. "This is Sarah's room. This is your key." Jinks pointed out a piece of paper on the door. "This is her schedule. I get first choice of time with her, then it's down in order of rank 'til it gets to you, Jeff. She gets one day off a week, and that day's column will be blacked out when it goes up after the Monday morning meeting."
Mark nodded, showing his understanding.
"She gets fed once a day, and it's your responsibility to make sure she gets food. She'll get water once in the morning and then once at night, with dinner. Before you give her the water, you open up the handcuffs and walk with her to the loo. She's got her own special one in the room adjacent. It's got the windows covered up, so she can't try and get out. She gets a shower once a week, on Sunday mornings. At that time someone will come in and strip the bed and change it. Other than that, she stays chained to the bed. Even when you feed her and give her water, her handcuffs need to stay closed. Do you understand?"
Mark nodded, revulsion growing deep within him and filling him up with an absolute hatred of Jinks.
Jinks smiled and unlocked the door to the room, handing it to Mark. "This is your key. Her room gets locked when she gets dinner and unlocked when she receives her glass of water in the morning."
"You said that she was a copper. Is Sarah her real name? I assume she wasn't using her real one when trying to seduce you."
Jinks shook his head. "That was the name she gave to me. We figured out her real name within a day or so, but it's need-to-know information."
We'll, I need to know, Mark thought to himself. You just wait 'til I can pull up my files.
However he merely nodded as Jinks opened the door. A bed dominated the small room, but he noted a small rickety wooden chair in the corner. The bed frame was tarnished brass, and looked extremely heavy. The headboard was made of brass rods, and was nearly six feet wide. Attached to either side was a pair of silver handcuffs. Encased in the handcuffs were two slim, feminine hands. Mark followed the hands down, along the arms to the head of the woman, which was currently turned away from the door. There was only a thin blanket over her, doing nothing to preserve her modesty, as it clung to every curve she had. Eager to take his eyes away from her curves, he looked at her hands. He was sickened to see that one of her fingers was missing.
"What happened to her finger?" he asked.
Jinks laughed. "We chopped it off! Sent it as a souvenir with her clothes to her boss."
"Why?"
"To show that he shouldn't mess with us. There was a note in it. Next time, you get her. That certainly made him back off. Never knew a man like him to back off. He's planning something. I can feel it in my balls. He just doesn't know where we are."
"Do you think he'd involve Special Branch?"
"Too much of a dinosaur to do that. Not getting cold feet are you?"
"Well, it's a bit of shock to hear that we're holding a police woman captive. But no cold feet, no."
"Good. You start tonight. Go ahead and get her her supper about seven."
Mark nodded.
"I'll see you on Monday at the meeting." With that Jinks left the room without a second glance.
The woman hadn't moved since they entered the room. "So Jinks tells me your name is Sarah," Mark said. "I'm Jeff."
The woman ignored him. He wondered if she was sleeping. He walked over to the bed, and saw her start to stiffen.
"I know this is going to sound odd, Sarah, but you can trust me."
The woman looked at him then. He shuddered as her eyes bored into his. Her face was expressionless, her eyes a hollow except for a dull fire of anger that burned deep within them. Jinks hadn't been joking when he said that she was attractive. He could tell that even though she had the look of someone who had lost weight too quickly, that she had she had been a great beauty a few months ago.
"I'm going to get you out of here, Sarah," Mark said softly. "If it's the last thing I ever do, I swear to God, I will get you out of here."
(PS: For those who haven't decided what Mark, Jinks and Scotty look like, here's how I imagined them. Mark looks like Canton Delaware III for whovians, Crowley for Supernatural fans, or Badger for Firefly fans [without the bowler]. Jinks looks like Eddie Izzard in Treasure Island, and Scotty looks like Moriarty from the BBC Sherlock. LOL. Can you imagine if he looked like Moriarty from Game of Shadows? *dying at own joke*)
PPS: Sorry about the bad jokes. I've drank (drunk?) too much coffee this morning, and I don't normally have a lot of caffeine. Still, at least it's better than Alex's fucking joke about the damn blackberry crumble. Or the explody dog getting smaller. I mean COME ON. Of course your friends say you don't have a sense of humour, if you find THOSE jokes fucking hilarious. Seriously. *shakes head miserably in disappointment*
PPPS: After this chapter, since everyone has fucking 3 or 4 fucking names, (and I was getting confused, I'll be posting a list at the top of who's who. If you really need one for this chap, Jeff=Mark, Sarah=Alex. Woo!
PPPS: I just feel the need to say happy birthday. Like, if you're reading and it really IS your birthday, please let me know if I've got magical psychic powers!
PPPPS: I just realized how much I've said a certain naughty word in these post scripts. When I get caffeinated I swear. Sorry :(
Um. I should probably stop rambling now.
Sorry.