Chapter 5

Nathan flipped through Grey Wolf: The Escape of Adolf Hitler, trying to remember the book. There was this one, a quick summary of the history of Argentina and its cities, lost historical cities of Argentina, different books and supposed narratives of Hitler and those he was close too, but through and through, he still didn't believe all the treasure was in Argentina. There hadn't been documents of the boats making it that far south.

"Dammit, I need to talk to Keller."

His mind was much clearer, his body quickly adapting to this bullshit drug. He did wonder if it was Flynn's poisoning that helped him adjust to the silver truth. He waited for Flynn to waltz in, do his stuff, drug Nathan, and take him wherever. Not today. No, I need more than twenty four hours without that stuff. It's time to improvise.

Nathan stayed on his bed, trying to gather coordinates and whatever information from the books around. He skimmed them, just trying to become familiar. Without his journal or the other, half this information seemed useless for the time being. Finally, he heard the door knob jiggle, unlocking with a beep from the outside.

"Good morning, sweetheart, I have some delicious breakfast for you to munch on."

Nathan slowly looked over to Flynn, then back to his book. "Darling, you're the best. I don't know how I could have made it this far without you."

"Well, well, well. I suggest you sit that perky ass up and come get some nutrition. Skin and bones only makes it easier to beat you."

"At least words won't break them…" Nathan sat up and eyed Flynn, walking over and picking up the plate of pancakes. He grabbed the plastic fork, asking, "Why are you doing this?"

"You need your nutrition. Eat up, We're going back to a library today."

Nathan nodded, pouring the syrup on his plate, quickly bringing the plastic bottle up and smashing it against Flynn's head. He kicked him in the chest, shoving the pancakes up his face and to the wall. The man stumbled back, Nathan taking his chance and running to the door, taking off to the right, momentarily happy his socks provided quiet padding across the carpet floors. He busted through the stairwell, hearing a gun fire behind him. "Shit," he muttered, jumping down landings six stairs at a time. He saw a door at the bottom and through the door open, surprising the two guys outside smoking. "Evening, gents," he said, before running across the garage, the two men yelling after him. He knew he couldn't find a car in time, and he knew they were going to try to track him down back at his motel. He jumped over a short wall, running through some grass. He turned a corner of the building, spotting a tree he noted from the day before.

He quickly pulled himself up, carefully walking across a sturdy branch. Voices came close to him, Nathan coming to the top of the fence. Noting no barbwire or spikes, he quickly jumped, giving a yell as the top seemed to come close. He topped it, trying to grab it to slow his fall, suddenly electricity jolting through his arms. "No, no, no!" he screamed, dropping hard onto the pavement on the other side of the fence. He tried pushing himself up, but his arms couldn't move. The buzzing in his ears slowly faded, hands abrasively grabbing under his arms and pulling him up.

Nathan was dragged back towards the compound, a sigh escaping him. He had been so close. "You tricky, tricky bastard. Wait until Keller gets a load of this. I'll be surprised if you can see straight next week."

"Highly doubt it if your shock therapy hasn't worked yet."

The guard chuckled. "Oh, you'll be begging for the electricity again by the end of it," the one on his right replied, a dark pleasure coating his words.

"This isn't my first rodeo, you know." Nathan tried twisting his arms out of the men's grasp, but they had a strong hold as they dragged him across the lot, back into the grey building and up two flights, happily bouncing his lower half on the stairs. When they exited the stairwell, Flynn was in front of them, having cleaned the sticky mess off his upper half. He punched Nate across the face, again, and again, Nathan counting to five before the fuming man withdrew.

"Take him to the lab, then to Keller. Hold him until I get there. If he tries to escape, shoot him, but not to kill. Remember, he doesn't need limbs."

Flynn knocked him across the face, Nathan only laughing. "Glad to know your mother still hits harder than you." Nathan was jerked away, noting his room. "Hey, hey guys! Please, can I get my boots? This floor is a bit cold."

"Nothing worse than your heart. Flynn has the only key. Deal with it."

Nathan tried keeping track of the turns, but a solid toss against the wall when they reached the lab helped dissipate half the memory. They held him on the floor, a few minutes later Flynn walking in, cleaned up a bit more, blonde hair frazzled at the top. "All right Drake, you're in for it. When we're done here, Keller wants you downstairs. I don't believe you've been there yet."

Nathan tried moving again, but within a short moment Flynn was shoving the shot into his arm. "Don't miss now," Nathan tried, Flynn's smiled growing wider.

"Don't worry. I hope you remember how sick you were the first time you had this. Now add Mr. Keller to the mix. Oh boy. You're in for a real treat."

The men picked Nathan up and dragged him into the hall, taking a left instead of the normal right, and down more stairs. The drug began to hit Nathan, the walls and lights slowly shining across his vision. The hallway grew darker as he became limp in the guards hands. The motions began to mess with his stomach, but not as bad as when they finally threw him in a dark room, a heavy door slamming shut. Nathan tried using what little light there was under the door to see, but his vision was so blurry, he almost felt like he was in a sense deprivation tank.

You're okay...you're okay, just, someone will be here soon. Keller will be here soon. But you don't know what he's going to do. How bad can it be? How bad will it be? Nathan scooted back until he found the wall, bringing his legs up and curling against the small cramps forming in his stomach. He tried to focus on straightening his head out, but it became hard to tell if his eyes were open or closed. It seemed like someone had turned off all the lights in the hallway.

He heard a creaking sound, trying to look up, but he couldn't tell which direction he was looking. His mind was spinning, making it hard to focus. "Well, well, well. What a little escape artist we have. That was pretty bold of you."

A little prick by his ankles. Nathan jerked his leg away, but they came back, on both legs. Slow little nibbles, testing his reaction, seeing how fast they could move in comparison to him. Nathan tried squirming away, but the wall held him up. He tried moving his legs again, but he couldn't tell which direction they were moving. The different pitches of darkness swam in his vision, but dissipated whenever he tried to look at the hues.

"Oh, now you don't have anything to say for yourself? Speak up!"

A hard prick, digging in, Nathan giving a short yell, shaking his legs as he tried to stand up. "I, I can't be confined. I don't like it." A gasp escaped as his stomach twisted, his abdomen feeling constricted. "I don't like this! Any of it! I don't want to go to Argentina for you! I don't want to go like this! I hope the plane crashes into the ocean on top of the wreckage so you can have your damn fortune and die with it!"

"Really now?" The voice sounded excited, breathless. "So, maybe my books were good for you anyway. Good job, boy. I didn't expect you to look through them so soon."

Another bite pricked his leg, Nathan crying out, wiggling itself up his pants. Nathan stomped hard, the creature falling out. Suddenly he was pushed back against the wall, a hand around his throat. "If you ever mess with me again, trying to escape and bullshit me on my own funds, you're crazy. Since you're working for me, you're my property. And there's a bit of expectations that I have from you." Nathan was punched across the face, grip tightening around his throat, and tossed across the room. He hit the ground hard, his head spinning as a foot planted strongly against his chest, pushing him onto his pressure and weight changed, punches crossing his face, one after another. "I am going to be your worst nightmare these next few days. My contacts are expected to report back to me, and then we will be leaving the country. Maybe you'll be coherent on the flight, maybe not. We'll see later after I'm done teaching you your lesson."

Nathan felt like he was spinning. He couldn't tell up from down, just felt lifting, a punch, he fell into something... The floor? The wall? A smack against his skull sent his mind reeling, three more punches across his face. He was so disoriented, he tried bringing his arms up as some defense, but he was kicked back, foot square in his chest. He stumbled back, making it three steps before he was down, then picked back up and pushed, a quick yell as he suddenly was kicked again in the side, stumbling and falling, rolling, the ground scraping his arms and face. He was breathing hard, going to be sick. Suddenly the lights turned on, Nathan quickly rolling onto his back, sitting up. He tried focusing on Keller, the man seeming to flow back and forth. His black suit was still crisp, the man running a hand over his hair, smoothing it down. Nathan tried rubbing his eyes, seeing a solid grey room around him. There were a few blood splatters here and there, but he didn't know what was from him.

"What...what do you want?"

The man slowly came back towards Nathan, checking his nails and dirt on his hands. "I need you to cooperate with me. I need you to behave and not try to escape." Keller bent down, once more wrapping his cool fingers around Nathan's throat, grip slowly tightening. "I will be delivering your doses these next few days. I will not tolerate your childish behavior any longer. After this week is over I expect complete cooperation from you. If you continue to be intolerable, then I will happily subject others to your same situation."

Nathan felt his chest constrict, able to make a small gasp. Keller grinned, his mouth widening as he squeezed tighter on Nathan's neck. Nathan's vision slowly darkened, the blue eyes becoming little pinpricks. Suddenly, his throat was released, Nathan taking in a few short gasps, trying to re-wet his mouth. His first full deep breath calmed his body down significantly, taking a few more before the hand clasped his throat again, the man smiling. "I can do this all day. It's my favorite activity."

Nathan closed his eyes, his chest seizing at once. His blood was pumping quickly, his heart was beating furiously, he hurt all over, his abdomen felt like it was stretching inhumanly far. He kicked, head swimming, the pressure tightening... The fingers released again, Nathan taking quicker breaths, deeper breaths, throat feeling raw inside and out.

Nathan opened his eyes, everything starting to straighten out. "Do we have an agreement, Mr. Drake?" Nathan slowly nodded, Keller smiling again, just as darkly as before. "Good, good. Now, you're to do whatever Flynn tells you, and whatever I tell you. Do you understand?" Nathan nodded, Keller standing up, still smiling. "Remember, I'll be seeing you over the next few days. See you soon." Nathan was kicked across the head, the lights turning off, left to his own demise once again.

The next few days, Nathan learned how well Keller stuck to his word. He never knew when the man was going to come, but the beatings lasted awhile. He would keep the door open long enough to give him the shot, and then it'd be pitch dark, silent, little scuffles of Keller's shoes ever giving away his area. He stayed silent mostly, surprising Nathan with a kick or a punch, sending Nate landing in new position. Every time he came, the beating was worse than before, the psychosis becoming stronger. Nathan relentlessly shifted his legs and hands, feeling the rat bites, only dissipating the moments that Keller physically assaulted him.

"Are you ready yet?" Keller asked, Nathan rolling over the ground, groaning, feeling the split in his arm stretch open again. "Are you ready to leave to Argentina and work alongside me?"

Nathan controlled his breathing, his ribs flaring along the left side, both shoulders sore and feeling overstretched, his lip was swollen, jaw sore. He groaned as he adjusted his legs, his thighs and abs feeling the most abuse. He rolled onto his back, his spine flaring at the base all the way up to his neck. "When do I get that journal?" he breathed out, refusing to lose his initial focus for the hunt.

"What is it with you and that journal?" Nathan yelled out as Keller pinned his boot into his side once more. "Tomorrow we're leaving. If I don't have your full cooperation on this trip, I will be sure your body is never to be found again."

The boots stepped away, Nathan feeling as if he was swimming from the drugs and the pain. His mind was disoriented, and he didn't know how much blood he had lost. He had been fed once a day, water twice a day. He laid still, not wanting to disrupt any of his muscles. He let himself float away, the process the same as he's done every other time. He felt himself slip away into the drugs, his mentality following right along with it.

When Nathan woke next, he didn't recognize anything around him. Slightly familiar with being in this type of predicament, he was able to keep himself calm. He moved his hands, saw they were not strapped to anything. That was good. He adjusted himself, straightening up, quickly looking at his seats and armrests, recognizing he was on a plane. The guard next to him smiled, realizing Nathan woke up. "Good afternoon. Sorry you still have a few more hours until we land. Mr. Keller and Mr. Flynn apparently misjudged a little about you waking."

Nathan looked around, seeing they were towards the back of a plane, most likely a private jet for Keller. There were three rows of three, Nathan and his guard in the last row. There was a little area to walk, a table off to the right. The small room though was blocked off by a wall and brown door. The lavatory was off to the right, drinks and snacks behind the two of them. He saw another guard by the door but that was it. Dressed in green camo, he looked at Nathan and motioned across his neck.

"Where are we going exactly, then? Argentina, sure, but where?"

"Landing in Buenos Aires. There's a few things in that area we can check out. Now, give me your arm."

Nathan made to stand up, but his guard grabbed his arm, pulling him close, bringing a gun to Nathan's neck. "Don't fuck with me guy. I owe you for back at the compound."

Nathan relaxed, sitting back down on the chair, his left hand up in surrender, the right arm pinned painfully against the armrest. The guard wrapped his arm to the chair, quickly pulling a set of made needles, pulling out a middle one before quickly sanitizing and inserting the needle. Nathan shivered, goose bumps rising along his arms, all the way to his spine before finally fading. "Why so cold?"

"New concoction. Something about a new mixture from another country. Maybe it'll work well on you." The guard released his arm, Nathan rubbing it. Red marks were already appearing.

"Huh…great. Glad I can be your test subject."

"Well, in the meantime, some of the books that were in your room are in front of you. Pick some to start reading, Mr. Keller will appreciate that, I'm sure."

Nathan kept quiet, dragging out a biography, beginning to notice the drugs as they kicked in. It wasn't as fast, and it managed to slow his mind down without giving him the colors and the sick stomach. For starters, in comparison this was much better. He slowly crawled through the book, looking for references of his paintings and maybe other possible journals that were written. It had some bits on heirlooms that seemed to disappear towards the end of the second war, the fluttered words possibly hinting at a secret stash. The book was cited well, Nathan able to get a pen to mark the pages. He was moving slow, but he still could focus his mind and make his notes. The guard did keep Nathan's hands in his sight, making sure nothing was going to happen. Naturally, it's a new drug. They don't know what could happen. Apparently I've surprised them a few times.

He was over halfway through the book when he handed the pen back to the guard, asking to use the bathroom also. They were beginning their descent, Keller and Flynn still nowhere to be seen. "Dare I ask if I can have some water? Or do you think that's too much?"

"You're the idiot who was too high to even pay attention or ask. I asked you at least once every hour."

Nathan looked at him, the guard standing and grabbing him some water and crackers. "Dinner will be after we land. This should suffice for now."

Nathan nodded his thanks, quickly slamming through the crackers and water, the guy looking at what Nathan had done. He paused on some of the notes, reading them carefully, seeing how lines ran across different pages, then referencing back to others. "I'm surprised you got this much done. It reminds me of a book I read once, the way you go back and forth."

"Hmm. Maybe I've read it once too."

"I don't know. It was creepy. About a house. Lots and lots of footnotes."

"Sounds intriguing. So, if you're kind enough to tell Keller I can work faster when I'm not doped up, you'd have another book inside of that to read. I don't even know if I'll be able to remember my notes."

"That's what Mr. Keller and Mr. Flynn are for. You just worry about the work and they'll do the rest."

"Great." Nathan looked up as the guard next to the door stood, finally opening the brown barrier.

"Your stuff will be brought to where you're staying. Just grab those books and water."

Nathan complied, still feeling a bit unnerved. He didn't know how long he had been away from Sully, or how long he's officially been on the drug. He hoped the man was faring well. He stepped through the door, following to the steps and quickly down, managing to shield his eyes in the evening sun. The humidity began crawling at his skin, Nathan sighing. At least the country still felt the same. A white SUV was by the airport, Nathan looking around and seeing this seemed like a small, private landing strip. There was another SUV in front, Nathan climbing up with the door guard, the other taking the book to the first vehicle. Nathan rode on the right side, the guard jumping in the front, the two vehicles taking off out of town. The drive was quick and nice, pulling up to a cemetery finally, the gravestones showing a variety of class buried. The guards got out, Nathan following, a cooler breeze suddenly rising, causing him to cross his arms. Stretching as they walked, he finally saw Keller and Flynn.

"Mr. Drake. It's pleasant to see you're healing quite well. Good work on that book too. Who knew you could question a biography in those words? I'm impressed."

Nathan didn't know how he looked. He was sore, saw some cuts, felt some bumps, but there hadn't been any mirrors around him on the plane. "Well, what are we looking for?"

"Some gravestones, Mr. Drake. I believe we have some proper historians buried here, and we are going to look around the graves, see what we can find. Shall we?"

Nathan nodded, staying a bit closer to the guards than to the other two. Keller walked up to the house of the property with one of his agents, the man translating between the owner and Keller. Keller came back, nodding to Flynn, before walking away. "Alright. Axel is going to stay here, make some calls. Let's go grave digging."

Nathan began walking, looking at the green scenery. They walked into the cemetery, Flynn leading the way. "What are we looking for here, exactly? Isn't this wrong, to be digging up a grave that may not hold anything?"

"You're so simple. No, we're not digging the actual body up, just around the headstone. More so we're looking for a swastika. If we can find it, then there's supposed to be a note of some sort, or a book, or something that will lead us to the next place. A name, a location, something. So, we start with this bugger, and move around. Understood?" Nathan nodded, Flynn tossing him a flashlight. "Beautiful. Let's go, buttercup."

~~/\/\/\

Sully tapped the ash off the end of his cigar, looking at the brown cover in front of him. He stirred his drink, finishing the last third of it off. The waitress came over, asking him if he'd like another, Sully nodding. He couldn't get plastered, but, he could still at least have a bit to allow his mind to soar.

Three weeks. He had finally hit the three week mark of desperation. He knew they were on the right trail. Sully had reconnected with some of the men who had translated the book, asking what they remembered. Some of them seemed concerned that the book was stolen, but most said it shouldn't be a big deal. He received papers out of order, half complete and vague at worst. At least it was still something. Especially leading back to Berlin, or Germany in general, he needed help.

The waitress dropped the drink off, Sully tipping her a five. She gave an eager smile and pranced off, no doubt going to tell her coworkers how much she was making tonight. Sully flipped the pages of Nathan's journal again, landing on a certain page, looking at the digits once more. It was a lot to bet. He had a feeling about this character, and he knew he should trust his gut. He grabbed the book and drink, meandering onto the patio of the bar, puffing on his cigar. He found a table tucked in the corner, pulled out the book, slowly turning to the number. He was pretty sure it was one in the morning over there...The guy would be awake.

He dialed the number, accepted the charges...and was forced to leave a voicemail. "Charlie. It's Victor Sullivan, from the museum. I wanted to talk, see if we can get a bit more acquainted. I have a bit of a story for you about Nathan, and was wondering if you'd be interested in a history lesson. Here's my number."

Sully hung up, letting out a sigh, quickly puffing on his cigar for a moment. He needed a teammate. Someone who knew the job. He looked at the coordinates of the drawings Nate had scribbled down, not recognizing any off the top of his head. If I had to guess, I'd say we're looking at areas bordering the water, along Europe. "Come on Nate, just hold on a little longer."

He took a drink, his phone lighting up, vibrating across the table. "Good evening, Mr. Sullivan. This is Charles. What can I do for you?"

"I found Nate's notes, and I saw he left your number on it. He's exploring Hitler's trail right now with some guy, and that's about all I know. Now, what do you know about Hitler and his death being a setup so he could escape to another country?"

"Dappling a bit in a conspiracy, aren't we?"

"Look, I'm running out of time. I don't know where Nate's at or how I'm going to get him back. There's a lot of money that could be made here. What do you know about Hitler?"

"All right, well, there's a bit. Hope you don't want to go anywhere anytime soon."

"I have more time than you, pal."

Charlie sighed, then began the extensive planning Hitler had from Germany after the war. All starting before the end of April, 1945, he eagerly explained how there were different ways for him to get around by plane, by few helpers, consistently all of Hitler's closest personal helping escape from country to country. "It's bloody brilliant. He could have slipped up to Denmark, or straight to Spain, which he still flew too after Denmark. Franco, main connection down there. Had a whole monastery and tunnels and everything. 'Nother bloke, Degrelle, flew to San Sebastian out there. From there they probably flew to the Canary Islands, and then from there, sailed by U-Boat to Argentina. After that they were on the run, ducking and dodging and trying to build a Fourth Reich."

"Well how about that. That's quite a tail. So I'm in belief that the treasure is in Europe still. Nate was on that path as well. What are your thoughts?"

"I'd like to look at Argentina, but I think there are just relics down there. Hitler wasn't able to take anything if he was staging his death. I think we might be able to pinpoint it back to somewhere, maybe an accomplice. No forensics were done on Hitler, so that maybe the info was kept close to heart. I think Germany is the best place to start."

"I'm going to agree with you on that. Even if it's not the country we finish in, I think it's going to be a good start."

"Well then, where shall we meet up?"

"I got nothing tying me down here. I can fly to Berlin. Are you able to meet up in, say, thirty-six hours?"

"Yeah, that shouldn't be a problem. I guess you're coming from the states?"

"Have to. We had to come back, but it wasn't worthwhile at all."

"Right, right. Well, I will see you in thirty-six hours, at the Victory Column."

"Sounds good. Have a safe flight."

Sully hung up, letting out a deep breath, taking a long pull from the cigar, the smoke swirling around his mouth. He slowly blew it out, not eager for the flight. Now though, he could go back to that scummy motel, pack up, and get out. The server came over, replacing his drink as he asked to close his tab. She smiled before disappearing.

"I said I wanted to call the shots on this one. I had to open my damn mouth. Cutter better be easy to work with, and we better come out with some gold."

Whoop whoop, there's Cutter! Now officially it's going to be more Drake and Flynn working together, and Cutter and Sully.
AND THEYRE COMING OUT WITH ANOTHER UNCHARTED! Aaaahhhhh, all the pairings!
All right, back to typing. Been making a lot of notes, now to put it all into a story.

Happy Tuesday!