Story Notes: I did say this story would be shorter, so welcome to the climax. It took a lot to write this chapter, three drafts. This was the only one I felt happy with publishing on fanfiction. The next chapter will be the last. I'm currently working on a new multi-chapter story full of other twists and turns, but updates won't begin on that story for another couple of months. Another project will be coming soon, and I'm looking forward to sharing these stories too. Thanks for staying with me in this story. Please Rev, Fav and Fol

Chapter Summary: Tintin obeys his father's direction but will it be enough to save him? How far is Rastapopoulos willing to go to ensure his escape? Will Antonin's back up turn up in time to save them?

Suggested Music

1. Dive - Steve Jablonsky

2. Izzy - Steve Jablonsky

3. Vivian - Steve Jablonsky

4. I Had My Moment - Steven Jablonsky

Chapter 6

The rocks dug into Tintin's skin, scraping across and deep into his hands as he attempted to stand.

I can't just leave you to face that monster!

Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself onto his knees. As a shout echoed across the hill, Tintin immediately increased his efforts.

Come on, stand! Every muscle in his body ached from the strain. As he finally managed to pull himself up, he made his way along a pathway. Finding a sharp rock, he forced the rope against it, trying to sever the connection. He risked slashing his skin but continued until the rope started to fray. When his hands finally slipped from the bindings, he immediately clung to the rocks, unwilling to let himself go for fear he would never stand up again. His heart raced, pumping blood through his bruised body. As he finally raised his head towards the shoreline, he spotted a small motor boat moored up against the rocks.

That must be Rastapopoulos' way off the island. Why else would he take me up here?

Tintin manoeuvred himself round, the rocks spying a path down about 20 metres ahead. He took a moment to breathe in an attempt to counteract the pain ravaging his chest. After a few metres, the rocks he had utilised to lean against disappeared leaving a steep fall to the waterline.

Before Tintin could move, a hard object collided with his head.

Dazed and unable to stop his own body, he fell into nothing, tripping and falling onto the jagged piles of rocks. As his body rolled down the steep incline, each rock left its mark, cutting and bruising his already aching body. He hit the sand at the bottom with a strangled cry, as the horrific snap of ribs breaking echoed in his ears. He felt lucky he hadn't broken his neck.

Tintin remained still even as the earth moved above him. His lungs wheezed as he tried to breathe, but he didn't dare move. He wasn't sure if he could. As heavy footfalls sounded behind him, he held in a pained gasp as his lungs heaved.

That's not my father ... No ...

Despite the pain ploughing through his body, he pulled his arms from his sides and forced himself to crawl away from the impending evil striding towards him.

It didn't last.

A voice boomed through the silence,

"Oh no, you don't!"

As a hand latched onto his collar, pulling him onto his feet, he screamed.

"No ... No! GET OFF ME!"

"You're coming with me," Rastaopopoulos growled.

Tintin shouted as loud as he could.

Dad!

Haddock!

Anyone!

Rastapopoulos dragged him towards the boat, uncaring of his injuries.

Tintin couldn't fight him. Even as he tried to trash his arms, Rastapopoulos quickly controlled him. Before too long, Tintin was well and truly under his submission.

It's over, Tintin thought as tears of pain and terror flooded down his cheeks.

He's going to kill me.

"STOP!"

The voice bellowed into the air, forcing Rastapopoulos to turn round. As Tintin clasped eyes on his father, a slim ounce of hope spread through his mind. He had a chance, a slim one but still a chance. His eyes widened as he glanced at the blood running down his fathers head. The gun his father held, pointed towards them, remained steady, trained on only one person.

Rastapopulous pulled Tintin even closer, in a likely attempt to stop Antonin from shooting him.

"Don't you dare come near me, unless you want innocent blood on your hands," Rastapopoulos chuckled, pushing his gun against Tintin's neck?

Tintin squirmed as the cold steel surface rested against his jugular.

This could go wrong.. What am I going to do?

Tintin continued to gaze into his father's eyes, never averting his gaze even as Rastapopoulos spoke again.

"Back off,"

His father stepped closer, making Tintin hold his breath.

"Let him go," Antonin demanded.

"I said BACK OFF!" Rastapopoulos shouted.

At that moment, Tintin witnessed his father snap as Rastapopoulos refused to give in.

"LET GO OF MY SON!"

The gun shook in his hand but only for a moment. Tintin quickly wriggled as Rastapopoulos stared at both of them in awe.

"Son?"

Rastapopoulos spat distastefully then laughed.

"I might have known. You're just the same. Meddlers, weak," He snarled. Tintin whimpered as his arms clamped harder around him. He quickly freed his arm, hoping Rastapopoulos hadn't noticed. He held his father's gaze, ready to move if he saw an opportunity.

"I'm not letting him go! You can watch him die! You'll never be able to pull the trigger. You're too weak, just like him,"

Before Rastapopoulus could raise the gun, his grip loosened, giving Tintin an opportunity. Without hesitation, despite the pain he was in, he raised his free arm and slammed his elbow into Rastapopoulos' stomach. Within seconds the grip was gone.

Tintin plummeted to the ground.

Rastapopoulos raised his gun.

Antonin fired.

Rastapopoulos fell to the ground clutching his shoulder.

Tintin watched with relief as his father pulled Rastapopoulos onto his stomach and trapped his hands within cuffs.

It didn't trap his tongue.

"Go on, shoot me," Rastapopoulos snarled, as his father rolled him onto his back. "I know you want to... finish it,"

His father glared at him. Tintin watched as his father leaned right into his face, grabbing him by the collar.

"You're not worth it,"

Tintin breathed in relief as his father aided him onto one of the rocks.

"Where does it hurt Augustin?"

"Everywhere," Tintin whimpered, finding it incredibly difficult to focus on a single part of his body that didn't hurt. "I broke a rib in the fall. It hurts to breathe,"

Tintin's head fell against his father's chest, and he pulled him close.

"I'm so sorry," Antonin wept.

Tintin's eye's filled with tears as he held him as tight as he could. Tears soon dripped into his shirt.

"It's not your fault Father. I didn't see it coming,"

As the police back up and his father's men finally made their way down the incline, both sighed in relief. His father pulled him onto his arms and lifted him. Within his father's arms, he relaxed allowing sleep to overtake him.

I'm safe...

We made it.