Authors Note:

I've been pumping these first few chapters fast, as this is the beginning of the story where we are introduced to the circumstances our Charlie is under, but after this chapter, some feedback would be great.

Enjoy.

Chapter Four: Deal

"Put your hands up"

I obliged, knowing that 4 men against…well…me, I had no chance. I wasn't about to think I actually had a chance of escaping. Where could I go? So, with my hands above my head, and water dripping down into my eyes, blurring my vision, I barely saw the movements of one of the men approaching me and yanking me up to my feet and shoving me into the shelter of the bridge. But we didn't stop there. We went down the stairs, coming to a narrow corridor, turning left, right and left again into an office where a chair was brought out from behind the desk and I was told to sit, hands behind the back of the chair, where I was fastened with rope.

"Now, would ya be so kind as to tell us what a little thing like you is doing on our ship?" The man whom spoke paced back and forth. The other two stood either side of the door, and the fourth remain upstairs, steering the ship.

I look down at myself. Tied up and helpless. Droplets of water still dripped, splattering on the floor beside the chair.

"I know about Rapture."

"Yea, well 'ow would you know about that aye?"

"My father told me…and I wanted to see it for myself…"

"And who would be your father?"

"Dead."

"Well, that ain't going to help you, is it?" A warm but course hand cupped my face, jerking it up. "Who else knows you're 'ere?"

I yanked my face away, with difficulty. "Nobody. I came here alone."

"And now that we found you, what do you think we ought to do with ya?"

I didn't answer. Saying that I wanted them to dropped me off in Rapture and forget about this little meeting of ours, didn't seem like an answer that would be taken very seriously. So I looked back down, remaining silence.

"Nothing? You don't care? Well, I know that me and my mates 'ave been working very hard, and with a sweet, pretty runaway such as yourself…we could always use a little relief." At that I snapped my head up, glaring at them. "No? You don't like that. Well, 'ow about we make ourselves a deal?"

"What kind of…Deal?" The words barely come out, shaking from either the cold, or fear. My fate lies in their hands now. I have no control over the situation, and I can only hope they will let me pass through to Rapture.

"Lets see, you want into Rapture, yes?" I nodded. "And we be getting ourselves into a somewhat…tight lipped situation…" He continued to pace. "The security of our little business is threatened, meaning that due to the circumstances here, our pay checks ain't the only thing being cut…if you catch my drift…"

"What exactly…are you wanting me to do?"

"I want you to get rid of our evidence Sullivan has got on us, and get back our profits from Fontaine. Either that, or the sharks won't be hungry for another few days…"

Obviously not having a choice, I nodded. "Deal, but how do you expect me to do that?"

"All with time, lass. We'll talk more after we disembark. But you is going to be our little secret, and we'll be keeping an eye on you…"

After the men left, leaving one outside to guard the door, as if I could get out of these ropes, to unload the hold when we reach the location. I found that the more I did nothing, the more my aches and pains set in. My head pounded from countless knocks, knees cramped and muscles seized up.

The coolness of my still soaked clothes, seeped into my core, and exhaustion finally caught up. My head lulled off to the side, no longer finding the strength to hold it up. I rested my eyes.

I was escorted through a collection of caves, losing track of how many turns we had taken. Smuggled crates appeared to have the contents of: Bibles, Films, Cigars and of course, a wide selection of Booze.

"The fact that so many objects were made contraband left a huge market for illegally smuggled goods, that is where Fontaine's business comes in. People here never stop wanting, and so we never stopped smuggling." my escort explained.

"But some of these things…seem fine. Like the bible? Or films…?

"Andrew Ryan saw these as conflict to his values. Propaganda."

"And so he controls what the people here see and do?"

"Mmmm" he confirmed.

"But he's hot on your trail?"

"Yep, sent Chief of Security, Sullivan to investigate. Fontaine who started this, has a leash on every one of us, and has been pulling tighter by the minute. Men has disappeared, coming back dead a week later. We ain't allowed to quit, and we ain't allowed to tell."

"What if he finds out about me?"

"Then you, me, we're gone. Ain't no games around here, kid." We came to an opening in a wall, stepped through, revealing the opening of a frozen storage unit. Fish hung on hooks, crates of oysters and mussels stacked in the corner, and four giant freezers stood against the walls. The man walked ahead of me, hauling the freezer door open, allowing me to step inside. "Names Clinton." He smiled charmingly as he shut the door, following up behind me.

"Charlie." I responded, before stopping to see someone was already inside behind a shelf at the back of the containment. The figure stepped out of hiding, wrinkled face grinning at me, gapping teeth.

"Peach Wilkins. Now we all know each other's names, let's be talking business."

I shuffled on my feet, hands in pockets. My breath came out in great white plumes. The floor was iced over, as was the walls of the containment. Shelves held more crates, and tins of various seafood and the stench almost gagged me.

Wilkins beaconed me around the corner, where a makeshift clump of ice made for an uncomfortable seat. I sat down, careful not to slip, looking back up at the two men.

"First things first, lass. Do you understand what we will do to you if you do not…cooperate?" Wilkins wheezed at the end, perhaps from too many years of smoking.

I nodded.

"Good, because we're risking a lot. And I want to think as myself as a loyal follower of Fontaine, but you see, we all come down here, figured we'd all be part of Ryan's Great Chain. Turns out Ryan's chain is made of gold, and ours are the sort with the big iron ball around your ankle. Fontaine promised to free us from those chains, and instead, we've been locked in, with the key thrown away."

"So you want me to find the key?" I asked.

"No…But to loosen the chains, yes."

Peach went on the explain how Sullivan was holding files against most of Fontaine's employees including him and Clinton. Because of this, the chances of their 'disappearance' were great, could in fact happen any day now. All I had to do, was sneak into his office through the vents, as I was small enough to do so, grab the files, and burn them without being caught.

"How do I know where to go?"

"Sullivan's office serves as his interrogation room, its up in the Wharf Master's office."

"I'll take you halfway, but if I'm seen snooping" Clinton made a cut gesture across his throat.

So with nothing but the clothes on my back, and a small lighter given to me, I followed Clinton to the upper Wharf. As he left me, he smirked. I looked around.

Just like the docks…but inside. Wooden floors creaked. Conveyer belts lined one wall. More men walked back and forth, heaving large crates and instruments. Some stood at work tables, guttering and cleaning fish. A glass wall ahead showed the expanse of the ocean floor. Instantly drawn to it, I walked towards the glass. The deep blue. Far out, a school of fish went past, a critter crawled along the sand below, and to my amazement, a massive dark figure float gracefully by.

I was here. I was finally in Rapture. And I couldn't contain my smile.

"Hey, Kid! You ain't supposed to be down here." A hand came down on my shoulder, pulling me away from the view. I looked up, imagining how I looked. A child, pale and damp. Hair hanging limply and clothes tattered. I probably looked homeless. "Lets get you to security." He lead me with an iron grip on my arm, up some stairs, and through a barred gate. A sign ahead read:

WharfMaster's

Office

That was easy. I had to suppress a smirk as the man pulled me around the corner and through another barred gate. A couple of turns later, we reached a door in which the man pounded on. Moments later, that door slid open, and we approached an exhausted looking man. Circles under big round eyes. And thinning moustache above his lip, as well as thinning of the hair on his head. By the judge of his appearance, stress was eating him alive.

"What is it?" He glanced up at my capturer before eyeing me.

"Found this kid just standing round. Probably lost."

"Kid? That's no kid! That's a young lady and you would do your best to show some respect." Sullivan snapped at the man, looking back at me, with a softer, but impatient tone, he asked, "now young lady, civilians such as yourself should not wonder in here without an escort. What's your business?"

Think fast.

"I just wanted too… see how to fish were prepared for us…I was curious." Wow, what a great excuse. Play it dumb…

Sullivan looked to be smart enough to not buy it, but either he wasn't suspicious, or more likely, he didn't care, and replied. "Very well, next time, bring an escort, and as for you," he looked up and the man behind me, "escort her out."

The man shrugged and beckoned me follow him out of the fisheries. He left me in a great big glass tube. Seaweed and coral grew along side the edges and I couldn't help but marvel at the bright pigments. They swayed gently in the currents as if it was a breeze in the air. These were like the ocean trees, oxidising the water, feeding off the waste products of the secondary producers. I remember little of what I studied about the ocean, but I know that finding primary producers and photosynthetic species so low down was uncommon…but maybe because of Raptures presence, somehow we are able to sustain their lives down here, even in these depths.

Back down the tube, the door opened, and I looked to see Clinton walking directly at me. Not happy.

Putting my hands up in defence, I started "I know, I know. But what do you expect, sending in someone who doesn't know what they're doing or what this place is…"

"We already told ya! Use the vents!"

"Where?"

Clinton sighed. And pointed up. The ceiling of the tube had a metal strip running down it, lights dotting across it.

"Oh." I stated dumbfound.

"I gotta go, but if I find myself coming one more time, it won't be for a warning. I like ya kid, don't change that." I nodded, and watched him retreat.

Now to find an entrance to this vent, and get this over and done with.