Genre: Drama, angst, friendship
Spoilers: End of series 2, "The Reichenbach Fall"
Warnings: Spoilers, angst, some violence, mentions of drugs, swearing
Sorry if this chap is a bit clumsy, but these criminal types are really taking too much of the story into their own hands - this will stop soonish, I promise :-)
Please review - could be dangerous :-)
A Sound Beating
We drive in silence, Didier on the wheel, his sidekick watching me closely every now and again in the rear view mirror.
If there was a competition on how often one can get himself handcuffed in one day, I would certainly stand a good chance of winning today´s trophy. It is not comfortable at all for someone my height to be bundled up in the back seat of a small Renault with both hands locked tightly together. And it hardly leaves enough room for expertness. Still, I manage to get hold of my mobile and to speed-dial the number of a department of the Belgian police I have picked for its experience on terrorist attacks. Hopefully, they will stay tuned to the call.
"So Morbier has finally fixed a date when to strike?" I ask.
Didier looks into the mirror, grim. "That's not your concern at the moment."
"What is, then?"
His nameless companion turns to face me. "You were going to sell our software. And you called the police to Rieger´s flat. That was not very clever of you, Sigerson."
"I wasn´t going to sell anything," I reply.
"Oh, sure you were. Lelord must have gotten suspicious. Otherwise he would not have been confronting you."
"Lelord is an idiot," I say, which earns me a sneer from Didier. "Are you talking about the simulation software for our big event? Blowing up Europe´s financial economy? How am I supposed to sell anything so specifically designed for one certain purpose to another organization?"
Didier´s sidekick snickers. "Don´t pretent to be stupid. You can always sell it to the authorities." There we are. The idiot has acknowledged that this specific software exists. Surely the Belgian police can´t be as uncomprehending as to not get suspicious by now.
"The authorities presume me dead. How do you think I would be able to approach them without blowing my cover?"
Didier sends me another glance. "You would do anything for money, Sigerson. And you would kill for money, too."
I stare back at him. "You think I killed Lelord? Why kill him in the middle of our preperations for the Big Bang?" Name it again, get our listeners on the track.
Didier sneers, accelerating. "You two weren´t very keen on each other, I registered. When he got in your way, you shot him."
I laugh. "He is the sniper. He wanted to shoot me to preserve the web´s plan to cause chaos on Europe´s financial markets. He wanted the software for himself, he wanted to trigger the fake terrorist attack on the most important financial centers in Europe."
"Shut up," Didier orders, sharply. "You killed Lelord. I wonder how Morbier will react to the news," he adds, calmer.
"I wonder how the web will proceed with its plan. Surely the simulation software needs to be implemented on several servers. Is this why I was assigned to bribe and threaten selected members of the most important stock exchanges´ advisory boards?"
"I told you to shut up," Didier answers. "Morbier will surely talk to you about all this. As I said, he has all the time in the world."
"Ah, and this is why we are driving towards the sea, to Morbier´s house," I retort.
Didier looks at me, his gaze turning into one of realization. He hits the brakes, hard, and the car comes to a sudden stop. He gets out, furious, hauling me from the back seat, padding my clothes with steady hands. At last, his hand slips into my pocket and he retrieves my mobile. Recognising the number, he disconnects the call. A cruel smile curls his lips. Drawing dangerously close, he places one hand on my throat, squeezing tight.
"I knew it," he spits. "You called the police. You´ve already made your deal with them, have you?" His cruel smile deepens. "You know what happens to traitors to the web. I will be only too happy to assist in your execution," he says, pushing me back brutally against a wall. "Morbier will be pleased we delivered him the latest threat to his masterplan. He won´t mind some damage to the evidence, though," he adds with a vicious grin, nodding at his sidekick, still restraining me against the cold, unrelenting stone. On his signal, his friend draws nearer, eyeing me, flexing his hands. Without further hesitation, he deliberately delivers several heavy blows to my stomach and chest.
He is stronger than he looks, and he systematically takes aim at the most sensitive spots. I try to kick him, but Didier slaps my face repeatedly and ruthlessly, tightening his grasp on my windpipe until my vision swims, and my limbs fail me. When his helpful companion is finished and Didier finally releases me, I slump down on the pavement, drawing in painful gasps of breath, choking, bile rising in my throat.
Didier turns to climb back into the car, clutching my mobile in his hand. "I don´t think you´ll need this anymore," he remarks lightly, dropping the device out of the window as he takes his seat and starts the engine.
His nameless thug has already hauled me into the back of the car, where I curl up, still panting. Pain is clawing with mercyless fingers at my entire body, and I close my eyes, wishing me back to some friendlier day sometime in a recent past, back to Baker Street.
Finally, breathing gets easier and I am able to collect my thoughts. It looks as if my fate were up to a fifty-fifty chance once again. Either the police knows Morbier´s whereabouts and has already found out something weird is going on or Morbier will deal with me in his most unpleasant and definite way.