- Time unknown -
Reese was getting restless. Since the light – or more lack of it – never changed it was difficult to judge how much time had passed, but John estimated that it had been at least a couple of days - maybe even more - since he'd had the pleasure of chatting with Blondie.
Since then he had been left to his own devices, and quite frankly there wasn't much to do for entertainment while being tied up within a barren cage. His attempts at freeing himself of his shackles had been fruitless so far, and he'd pretty much given up on trying. He'd just have to wait until a different opportunity for escape arose. Until then he would have to content himself with his lovely accommodations and its exquisite food.
John rationed his supply of bone-dry, tasteless crackers and water to last as long as possible, leaving him in a perpetually hungry state. However his supplies were pretty much depleted now - the water the first to have been emptied. Hunger John could deal with for quite a while - thirst however was a completely different matter.
Judging by the dryness of his mouth, the painful pull of cracked lips and the headache that had been plaguing him ever since the Aryan had mistaken his head for a punching bag, his body was trying to tell him that it needed fluids.
Sitting on his blanket in his usual spot at the far side of the cage, John leaned his back and head - with his eyes closed - against the bars and kept his hands still in his lap. The skin around his wrists and ankles had been chafed raw and bloody during his efforts to free himself and were now burning like hell with each new movement.
Reese was bored and tired. He knew that leaving him alone for days on end was part of a tactic of wearing him out. He had been through this before, and he knew he could do it again. The thought that Finch was probably out there - worried sick and looking for him and ready to send in the reinforcements - strengthened his resolve to see through whatever the Brotherhood had planned for him.
Although Blondie hadn't really divulged why exactly he had been chosen for this lovely stay - besides beating the shit out of him, but Reese figured that was merely an added bonus - John could imagine a few good reasons behind his capture. Eight million to be exact.
And if his speculations were to be proven to be right John would make sure to thank one Leon Tao in the most imaginative way possible.
A cough - or more like a wet rattle originating from deep within his lungs - disrupted his thoughts and John pulled his knees towards him in order to be able to reach up to cover his mouth with the back of one hand while trying to wrap the other around his still bruised - if not cracked - ribs. After the retching finally stopped Reese leaned his head back and closed his eyes again.
So far he had refused to admit it, but the persistent cough, the aching joints and the burning eyes made it hard to ignore that - besides hunger, freezing temperatures and thirst - a major cold had joined the cast in making his life miserable. On some days, John mused, one loses - on the remaining days ... the others win.
Reese had been drifting in and out of a restless doze when the noise of metal grating on metal announced the unlocking of the heavy door as its bolts slid back. Jerking to alertness Reese blinked his eyes at the unaccustomed bright light and watched Blondie and his two goons sauntering into the room. The two goons went straight to the back of the cage and John didn't have to think hard about what their assignment for the day might be - especially after the rattling of chains confirmed his suspicions.
He kept his eyes on the Aryan as the man unlocked the cage door and stepped inside. Another cough tickled at the back of John's throat, refusing to be suppressed. The bout lasted longer than usual, leaving Reese light headed and with protesting ribs. Looking up, John found Blondie surveying him from a safe distance with a look of disgust on his face.
"You don't sound too good," he stated, stepping forward, deeper into the cage.
Reese shrugged. "I don't think there's a chance that I can get chamomile tea around here?" The blonde tilted his head to the side, an amused smirk adorning his face. "Thought so." Reese added in a soft rasp.
"I see you made yourself at home?" Blondie glanced around the small space, acting like a concerned host. John wasn't fooled by it. Not for a second. "Good," he jovially continued, ignoring Reese's glare, "because you'll be here for quite a while."
The Aryan peered at John, who'd chosen to look at a point somewhere straight ahead. The smile on the blond man's face widened, taking on a predatory edge. "Now, get up bitch," he said, accompanying the words with an upward moving gesture of his upturned and open right hand. Reese's eyes traveled across the cage, resting briefly on the blonde's face before returning to the spot of previous interest, otherwise showing no reaction to the demand.
Planting his hands on his hips, tilting his head to the side and adopting a tone of a father chiding his child Blondie warned, "Don't make me say it twice."
Reese closed his eyes, exhaling slowly through his nose. He didn't need the convenient rattling of chains behind him to remember what would happen if he failed to cooperate. For a moment he thought about being pigheaded, but ... it wouldn't do any good.
Opening his eyes, he climbed awkwardly to his feet - cursing his limited range of motion for the umpteenth time. Reese stood ramrod straight, adopting the confident and defiant stance that years of military training had imprinted in his muscle memory and stared straight ahead.
The other man drew closer, circling around Reese like a wolf circling its prey. "I see you've learned your lesson," he purred close to John's ear, his stale breath uncomfortably tickling Reese's neck.
John knew that the uncomfortably close proximity and the taunting were all aimed at getting a rise out of him, but he'd be damned before he gave the blonde any kind of satisfaction. So he continued to stare ahead, keeping his face a blank mask, while his mind was racing - going through his options and calculating possible outcomes to each viable action. None of the outcomes were in his favor.
A quick jab to his right kidney sent Reese back down on his knees - not able to keep the painful grunt from escaping his lips. He wasn't really surprised however. From his experiences with the Brotherhood he knew the beating had been inevitable. Reese closed his eyes briefly, breathing through the pain and wincing as he was roughly pulled back onto his feet.
"You stole my dog."
Reese sighed. "We've been through this," he said softly, allowing exasperation to creep into his voice as he turned his head to fix his piercing eyes on the other man. "He really didn't want to stay." Reese knew he probably should keep his mouth shut, as he tracked Blondie's walk around to stand in front of him, his head slowly turning with the other man's movement until it was facing forward again. "And I have to say," Reese continued nevertheless with a lopsided smirk, "I completely understand his reasoning."
This earned him another punch to the gut. At least this time nothing kept him from bending over as he panted through the pain.
"And as I see it," the Aryan said, leaning down to be on Reese's eyelevel, "you owe us eight million dollars."
Reese looked up from his hunched over position, raising an eyebrow - the stoic ex-op equivalent of an indignant 'What? Me?'
Straightening up he said, "I don't see how the Aryan Brotherhood being embezzled by an annoying ... Asian guy is my fault."
Blondie shrugged. "By proxy. Besides we think there's a greater chance of getting our money back from you than from the elusive Mr. Tao."
John had to concede that the Brotherhood's reasoning actually made sense. Kind of. "And what makes you think that I have access to this kind of money?" Reese asked, slightly amused.
The blonde chuckled and stepped closer. "Oh no, I may have not expressed myself clearly. I don't want money from you." He paused, waiting for a reaction from Reese. At the former ex-op's raised eyebrow he continued. "Like I told you before, there are plenty of folks out there that would pay good money to get their hands on you."
He practically beamed at Reese as he stood in front of him, his hands interlocked behind his back, rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet. "We're currently waiting for the best offer." He took another step closer. Close enough for Reese to lunge for his throat and squeeze the life out of him ... if he had not been shackled like he was. "Until then, I'll be having some fun with you."
He was fast, and strong. Reese hardly had time to react as Blondie's right fist swung toward his face. John tried to deflect the majority of the punch's force by turning his head with the punch, hoping it would glance fairly harmlessly off his cheek. But the Aryan's attack packed quite the punch and John's reaction came just a tad too slow. Dazed, Reese staggered backwards. He stumbled over his leg irons and crashed unceremoniously to the ground - his bound hands pretty much useless in dampening his fall.
He just barely had time to catch his breath and tighten his muscles before a foot connected with his stomach, knocking the breath out of his lungs once more. Reese protectively curled around the pain, leaving his back unprotected for another kick to his kidneys. Momentarily paralyzed with pain, John struggled to breathe. His cough chose this exact moment to chime in as well, turning him into a pitifully retching heap on the floor.
The blonde stepped over him, bending down to grab a tuft of Reese's disheveled hair. He pulled John's head painfully off the floor by his hair and delivered three more punches to his face before letting his head limply drop back to the floor.
Stepping back, the Aryan regarded the wheezing, semiconscious mess on the floor with satisfaction as he wiped his bloodied knuckles on his pants. He looked up and addressed his goons, who had silently been watching. "Clean him up."
One of the goons nodded and reached for the water hose as Blondie turned and left the cage. After taking one last look inside he decided to pour even more salt into the Suit's wounds by leaving the cage door unlocked and ajar. Smiling to himself he watched the man squirm as the first volleys of frigid cold water hit him.
"Make sure he doesn't drown." he yelled over the noise, receiving another nod of affirmation. He left the basement then, humming his favorite song. He had to take a trip for a couple of days but he was already looking forward to his next session with the allegedly undefeatable Man in a Suit.
To be continued ...
