A/N: I'm sorry it's so short! And also… I am just… sorry. Yeah.
Disclaimer: don't own them.
Chapter 9
Shit. Think, Nicholas, think fast. You have almost no time. Who could have sent these guys? The conclusion he made was startlingly simple. They had been wrong from the very beginning. The gang didn't have any "mole" in the Met. "The Partner" did. And it suddenly made so much more sense. The mighty organization had all the strings and kept smaller gangs under protection. Nicholas had no idea how they knew he was here, probably someone had been watching him. One thing was clear, though — to "his" gang he was needed alive, since he supposedly had valuable information. To the other gang he was needed preferably dead for that very same reason. Shit.
Detective Sergeant Dickenson gave him one more glance and assumed there wasn't much the still handcuffed guy could do. He went out of the office and stopped in the doorframe for a small talk.
"So are you going to transfer him now?" he asked one of the officers.
"Actually," was the reply, "we'd like to talk to him now. It's an urgent matter, you know. And a secret one, too, so…"
"I get it," DS Dickenson nodded. "I'll get you an isolated room".
Nicholas was led out of the office. Unlike he had expected though, they didn't go outside but into a cell room. Shit!
As soon as the door had closed, a heavy blow to the stomach left Nicholas gasping for air. There was no way he could defend himself, still restrained.
"So tell us, Shaun," one of the officers asked casually. "What do you know about the change in plans?"
"What plans?" Nicholas forced. Another punch and he was on the floor.
"Don't try to play a fool on us, Shaun," the officer went on. "Who told you?"
"I don't remember," it was hard to speak since his mouth was filling with blood. He spat it out but felt it appearing there again.
"We can go on long enough to refresh your memory," the kick to the chest that followed made Angel's vision blur.
"Or we can just kill you," the other officer intervened with another kick.
"You think I haven't told anyone?" Nicholas managed to say despite he couldn't even breathe properly.
"So you choose the long death?" the first officer asked, throwing all his rage at the man lying on the floor.
Nicholas was preparing himself to die right there. He couldn't tell that it was that unwelcome though…
"Wait," the second officer stopped his partner. "This isn't working. Maybe if we take him to the Chief, he'll be more talkative?"
There was a silence, accompanied only by Angel's hoarse breathing and occasional coughing.
"Okay," the first one finally agreed. "Make sure the coast is clear though. Don't want to explain how many times he accidentally tripped and fell down".
A minute later Nicholas was dragged along the corridor and thrown into the car. He barely registered his surroundings. The last thing he acknowledged was some shaking as the car stopped abruptly and some gunshots… or maybe it was just thunder. Somewhere far away…
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Detective Sergeant Dickenson came home late that day. This job was exhausting him. He took off his jacket, and, just as he was about to hang it on its place, something fell out of the pocket. He picked it up. It was a crumpled piece of paper…