Chapter 10

Race to the Woods!

Carlos' hand trembled as he unlocked the door and opened it. Shit, I'm sweating like a pig. The Russian had one scary mother fucking aura. Now Carlos knew why people avoided this man like the plague.

"Privyeti," He greeted Carlos as he stepped in. It sounded more like a sneer. "I received your messenger pigeon. You said you had information to my Alfred's whereabouts?"

Straight to the point. Carlos also noted that Alfred wasn't kidding about that lover talk. He almost pitied the American asshole. Almost.

"Y-yes," he stammered. Shit don't sound so afraid. You have to negotiate. "Would you like coffee?" He managed, relieved Paraguay wasn't up there. He didn't want him near this crazy bastard.

Ivan paused in thought, then asked, "Do you have vodka, comrade?"

"Sí, señor," Carlos responded, half-stumbling, half-tripping as he rounded the bar. He had to focus to keep from sloshing alcohol all over the counter as he poured the vodka into a shot glass. Ivan took a seat at the bar stool, staring around as if searching for something.

Two of his soldiers came in and took posts by the door. Both were blonde, but one had green eyes and wore glasses. Ivan gulped down the shot and slammed it down; a very disturbing grin lit his features.

"Da, now that is vodka!" He giggled, a sound that made Carlos's skin crawl. "More." Carlos obliged. I might need a few drinks myself.

For the umpteenth time he lamented what Paraguay had gotten them into.

It was like Alfred could feel Ivan above him as if they were connected. No way! His heart was beating fast and he knew it wasn't from fear alone. Stop it! He growled at himself mentally. There was no way he wanted to be captured.

Though you sure are good at, his smart-ass mind commented. Shut up! He growled back in his head. That wasn't true. He just was...Concentrate on getting out of this!

The conversation above was too muffled to understand now they were speaking in low voices so he turned his attention to surveying the room. The basement was split in two by a work shelf that was cluttered with junk. His feet were pointed toward it. He lifted himself up a bit to get a better look.

Some late evening sunlight was filtering in through some narrow glass windows up on that wall of the basement. From what he could see they were propped open, probably to let fresh air in. They also faced some kind of alley. He could see another wooden building barely a couple feet away from them.

If I ripped the frame off I could climb out, he thought, but how to do that without Paraguay saying something was the bigger question. There was also no telling how many Russians were out there. He was sure he could snap the bonds now, but he wasn't sure about everything else and if he had time. They had underestimated his strength. Everyone always did.

Maybe I could say I need a to pee and then when he's near, head-butt him! Yeah or wait... His mind somehow added in a scheme of using an army of rats that he summoned by whistling when he spotted the most out of place thing possible here: Mr. Puffin.

He blinked. Sure he was seeing things, but the bird was waddling over from behind the work shelf to Paraguay. He tilted his head. What did they drug me with?

"Hola, chiquitito," Paraguay said in a hushed voice, noticing the bird. "Se perdió?" If Alfred remembered correctly that meant something along the lines of Are you lost? Alfred wished he would just speak English. It was such a logical language after all!

What happened next stunned Alfred. Paraguay knelt down and Mr. Puffin pecked the top of his hand hard, drawing blood. "Hey!" Paraguay hissed, sucking at the wound. Suddenly, his expression went slack and then his eyes lolled up and he keeled over, landing on the dirt with an "umph".

If not for the gag, Alfred would have been gaping. He scooted back when the bird began waddling toward him, scraping its beak off on the dirt for some reason. Now wait just a damn minute! He wanted to shout and for a moment wondered if the bird wanted revenge for all the times they didn't get along, but then his better senses got a hold of him.

Still he couldn't help, but stare at Paraguay and wonder, Is he dead? Am I next?

While Mr. Puffin was off taking care of Alfred, and Dane knew he could trust Mr. Puffin to a job well done, Dane finished tying up the Russian soldier he'd knocked out. It had been easy. He'd used one of his arrows, dipped it a small jar of sleeping potion that he'd borrowed from his older brother. It was surprisingly potent.

Creeping up on the guy had been easy as the man had been occupied urinating. Dane had just jabbed into the side of the man's neck. Prick and the man went down. Even better, the guy had gone into the alley behind the Cigar Shop, either to goof off or to keep watch. Dane didn't really care since it made things easier for him.

The horse was dressed as a soldier's horse with a red skirt that had golden tassels hanging off the hem. They would have to ride out of here fast, but he'd already plotted their escape root. The alley ran behind these two rows of buildings and they would just turn left at the end and get on the main road and get out of here.

Hiding the man under some crates in a little off-shoot of this trash-strewn ally, he led the man's horse over toward the back of the Cigar shop. There were no windows at the back and the door was locked, but the basement windows were open. They were too small for a man to fit through.

Before he left Mr. Puffin, he'd had the bird dip his beak in the sleeping potion cream and warned him to not ingest it. Mr. Puffin could use it to take out any threats.

He smiled as Mr. Puffin crawled out of the open window and flew over to Dane, landing on the horse's saddle. He nipped playfully at Dane who saw a familiar face appear behind the grimy window.

Dane dropped to his knees, whispering, "Alfred?"

"The one and only," the boy mouthed as if afraid to talk. He was rubbing at his wrists. "I managed to snap the bonds with the birds help, but Dan-."

"Sorry to interrupt, but let's talk about it later," Dane suggested. Alfred nodded. "Can you squeeze through?"

Alfred shook his head. "I have to pull the frame off," he whispered.

"Will they hear?"

"Probably. I'll try to be quiet, but we should be ready to bust some tail." Dane assumed that mean be ready to flee. Alfred frowned and reached into his pocket, gripping something he relaxed. "Sorry, I just wanted to make sure I still had it."

Had what? Dane quirked an eyebrow. "You ready?" Alfred asked.

"Mr. Puffin, please follow from above," Dane murmured and the bird took off. "Now I'm ready."

Alfred grabbed the window.

Carlos was sweating bullets, his underarms completely soaked. He felt disgusting and really missed his ice cream, but he was getting somewhere with the Russian when he heard a sharp CRASH below.

The basement! Not bothering to say anything to Ivan, he took off. The only thing on his mind was Paraguay. That bastard better not be hurt. He threw the door open and his heart stopped at the sight of the lower half of Paraguay's toppled form.

I'll kill the American! He saw red as he flew down the stairs. "Paraguay!" He cried, about to fall beside him when he saw the American bastard halfway through the middle window, his feet dangling a foot off the ground. "YOU!" He screamed, launching himself.

Not a smart idea as the American looked over and kicked his foot up at the right moment, connecting the butt of his heel with Carlos' temple. The blow sent him into a wall and stars dotted his vision. He must have blacked out because when he came to, Ivan was standing in front of the window the American had been climbing through, an expression on his face that curdled Carlos' blood.

"Oops," Alfred said, dropping the remnants of the frame. He hadn't realized how rotten the wood was. His attempt to gently pry it off had ended in disaster with the whole thing falling apart and the pane shattering on the ground.

"Hurry!" Dane urged, his tone annoyed. He held out a hand and Alfred took it, hoisting himself up, kicking and pushing on the wall as wiggled and struggled through the window. He was halfway through when the Cuban showed up, but he took care of him.

Finding a foothold in a crack in the wall, he shoved himself out and scrabbled out onto the dirt. He wasted no time, running to the horse. He frowned when Dane jumped on first.

"Hey! Le-."

"I'm the better rider," Dane stated. Alfred opened his mouth to protest, but heard the sound of booted feet crunching on glass. Hopping on the saddle behind Dane, he froze when a voice behind him said, "Sunflower."

Don't look! Don't look! But his eyes went toward the source anyway. Framed by the broken window was Ivan's pale face. Alfred couldn't make a sound.

Ivan's gaze shifted to Dane. "You!" Ivan snarled, his voice dripping with malevolence, his grin demented as he glared at Dane. How do they know each other?
"Miss me?" Dane teased and then to Alfred's shock he shifted around until he was facing Alfred. He winked at Alfred, grabbed his cheeks and he yanked him into a kiss. Alfred went rigid.

The hell? Was it kiss Alfred day or something? Except it wasn't really a kiss, it was what Yorkie called a "theatre kiss" where you put your thumbs around the other person's mouth in such a way that you look like your kissing them when all you are really doing is kissing your own thumb. Dane was fake kissing Alfred, but when Alfred's eyes went sideways he saw that Ivan was fooled.

Dane even moaned, making things worse. Alfred was about to shove him off when Dane let go, smirking at Ivan who had his pipe out and was giggling with murderous joy.

Dane pivoted back around and kicked the horse to go as Ivan roared something in Russian at them. Alfred was sure whatever he was saying wasn't pleasant. "You're insane!" Alfred yelled.

"Just figured it out?" Dane said, his tone bemused. Ivan screamed after them. Alfred glanced over just in time to see purple light explode out of the window, creating a bigger hole that Ivan was just beginning to climb out of.

"Shit he's pissed!" Alfred said as they turned out of the alley, Ivan disappearing from sight. For now at least.

"Good!" Dane called back, "The bastard deserves it!" They were on the main street, the horse galloping fast as they dodged carriages and people.

"Is that why you did that? To piss him off?"

"Of course!" Dane chimed and Alfred could hear mirth in the boy's voice. He's crazy!

"We're gonna make it!" Alfred said, the end of the street was near and then it was just prairies between them and the woods. Dane nodded, but just ahead at an intersection two Russian guards came running out, crossbows aimed at them. They were shouting something.

"Watch out!" Alfred cried at the snap of the bolts firing, he shoved Dane forward just as a bolt grazed past Alfred's ear, nicking it. He sat up, touching the wound, wide-eyed. Wow, I almost died. Not that it would be the first time he had come close to death. He lived the life of a hero after all.

"They missed!" Alfred laughed, glancing back past the soldiers to see the distant figure of Ivan storming down the street, it had to be a trick of the eye, but the man seemed to be radiating purple. "We did it! We're home free!" Alfred called, the night wind ruffling his hair as they rode one. Now there was nothing but grass between them and the woods.

To say Ivan was pissed was to say having your arm cut off was only a flesh wound. He was beyond livid. He not only wanted to skin a certain Icelander alive, he wanted to hurt a certain two soldiers.

They fell in line and paled at the sight of him. By this point Eduard and a couple other guards had caught up to Ivan.

Ivan thought he'd start softly on the two soldiers. One had dirty blonde hair and the other auburn. He went for the auburn first, grabbing his red plate of armor with the yellow sickle on the front, he lifted him up a foot off the ground, giving his best smile.

"Who. Said. You. Could. Fire?" The soldier went wide-eyed, his eyes darting around but everyone was shrinking away from him, trying to make themselves as small as possible.

"T-they were s-stealing a horse, my Lord," He stammered, looking about to wet himself as Ivan giggled, a twisted and cruel sound even in his own ears.

"And did you hit these horse thieves?" Ivan inquired. The blood drained in the blonde one and Ivan instantly knew that was a yes. He dropped the auburn one and yanked the blonde one up.

"M-my Lord, have mercy. I-I didn't know," He squealed.

"That depends. Who did you hit?" Ivan's grin widened as he held the man closer. Worry now pulsing through him. Was Alfred hurt? He'd rip this man to shreds if so.

"Th-the front one. The white-haired one!" He managed. "I s-swear, my Lord!"

"If you are lying...," He trailed off, letting the warning sink in. The man shook his head violently. Ivan dropped him and he crumpled like a dish towel. "Eduard!" He snapped.

"Yes, my Lord," Eduard said, stepping forward.

"I have decided to be merciful. Only ten floggings each," He commanded, the two soldiers gasped. "And," Ivan said, his grin widening, "Have then both cut off half of their ear." Both turned white as a sheet. Horror plain in their eyes.

"Right or left?" Eduard asked.

"It matters not," Ivan said, "Just make sure they do it themselves and bring those pieces to me tomorrow."

"It shall be done, my Lord," Eduard said with a bow.

"Are men in pursuit?" Ivan demanded. If they weren't...

"Of course," Eduard answered. "They went after them from the other main street. "Shall I ready your horse?"

That was an unfortunate question. If only he wasn't heading to that place. It made Ivan angry but Winter seemed wary of there. "No," he answered. "I will go later."

"My Lord?"

"Do not let him escape," Ivan warned. He spared another withering look at those soldiers. They better not have hurt my Alfred. Ivan turned and started walking back to the coffee shop, pausing only to give one last order. "Have the men prepare to camp out there and ready my Iron Curtain. I want to have a small chat with our Cuban friend first." He grinned, hefting his pipe.

"Woo hoo!" Alfred laughed, holding up his arms. "I can't believe we did it! We totally kicked their asses!" Dane didn't respond. In fact, he had been rather unresponsive and quiet for the past few minutes. "Dane?"

"Nggg...," the boy gurgled, slumping forward he started to slide off the saddle. Alfred caught him by the waist, grabbing the reins with his other hand.

"Dane?" He repeated, "What's wrong?"

His hand touched something sticky and wet on the front of Dane's shirt. Holding up his hand, he saw his palm was covered in something dark and glistening. Blood. Running a hand down Dane's back, he found the tip of the crossbow bolt just barely sticking out. Dane had been pierced in his left side.

"Oh God," He said as Dane became dead weight against him. "Dane! Stay with me!" The boy was out cold.

(END OF CHAPTER 10. Dane is badly injured and his life now hangs by a thread. Alfred and he enter the Yellowstone forest with the Russians in hot pursuit. A place said to be haunted. What will they find? Can Alfred save the fading Dane? What secrets will be uncovered? Stay tuned for Chapter 11: Saving Dane)