Right, so I kind of abandoned this story for quite a long time, and recently rediscovered it and had the urge to attempt to finish it. I'm so sorry guys! I hope some of you out there still want to read it.
Becker immediately raised his gun, signalling for Bryce and Brown to do the same. "State your name and intention," Becker demanded at the obvious leader of the group, his gun never wavering. The man stepped forward, his chest almost touching the barrel of Becker's gun.
"I think you should put that down, Captain Becker, unless you want your little friends to get hurt?" The man was of a similar height to Becker, though around twenty years older with greying hair that was combed backwards. His eyes were dark, cold and calculating and he stared at Becker for a while before Becker reluctantly lowered his gun. He nodded to both his men to do the same. They were outnumbered two to one and Becker decided it would be safer to do as the man said.
"Good" smiled the man sarcastically, waving his hands at his men who immediately went to disarm the group and put plastic ties on their wrists.
"What do you want?" Cutter almost shouted, but his deep Scottish voice was ignored.
"Sir," called one of the men, "the girl's wounded." The still unknown leader walked over to Stephen who was still holding on to her. The man gripped her face with his hand, turning her face to inspect her.
"Get off her" hissed Connor, as Stephen tried to recoil but was stopped by one of the men. The head of the group ignored them both, taking a few more seconds to inspect her.
"It's a shame really; she's quite the pretty one. And I'm sure my men would have loved to get to know her." He said lecherously. Connor clenched his fists in anger, clearly feeling protective of her. "Leave her, she'll die soon without any help." He added callously.
"Well help her then!" yelled Cutter, trying to pull himself away from the men he was being held by, only to be rewarded with a punch to the gut. He doubled over but continued to talk. "You want us for something, right?" he asked, knowing this couldn't all be for nothing. "You let her die, we do nothing, and we'll make damn sure nobody gives you anything to get us back. Let her live, help her, and we'll do what you want." He stammered, still trying to catch his breath.
"Anything at all?" queried the man, an evil hint in his voice.
"Yes." Replied Cutter weakly.
"I'm sure I could always find other ways to make you do as I say, but if you'll make it easier for me then I'm sure we can spare some medical supplies for Miss Maitland here", smiled the man, before looking towards his men once more. "Mr Hart here can carry the girl, so don't bind his wrists. If he tries anything funny, shoot her." At that, the man walked ahead of the ARC team with a soldier either side of him, and they were each escorted by rough looking men with three more walking behind them.
They were led throughout corridors of the palace and soon none of the group knew where they were, though it was clear they were once again on the ground floor after they took what appeared to be an old servants' staircase down a couple of floors. When they reached an old wooden door, the man who Connor had decided to call 'Boss Man' in his head once again stopped to talk to them.
"When this door is opened, you do not look anywhere except straight ahead of you. If you even glance somewhere other than the person in front of you I'll shoot you personally."
"Why?" demanded Cutter, ignoring Becker's eye contact telling him to keep quiet. The man simply glanced at Cutter, and didn't grace him with a reply. "I said 'why?'." Cutter growled once more. "We're not doing anything unless you explain to us what the hell is going on here." Raising his gun, the man strode towards Cutter, his eyes glistening with anger.
"Did I not make it clear to you who is in charge here?" the man snarled, the barrel of his pistol pressing against Cutter's temple. "Perhaps I should make it clearer." He cocked his pistol, his grip tightening. At the last second he swung his arm to his side, and fired a single shot. Everyone looked round in shock to see the body of Bryce slump to the floor, with blood trickling from the wound on his forehead, running across his face to meet the growing pool on the floor, his eyes now void of life.
Once again, I'm sorry I gave up on this before. This might not last but I'm in a write-y mood. I've not been watching the New World episodes. I'm thinking about checking them out. Please R&R so I can see if there's any interest in this. Thank you!