"There's at least one good thing about the water" Michele said and Harry frowned.

"That is?"

"I heard that saltwater works disinfectingly."

"You want to say that your open palm burns like a bitch?"

"It is just such a tiny wound, I really wonder how it can burn that much."

"Well, you have no idea where this water here is from, maybe it's little germs and parasites already eating you from the inside."

Michele glared at Harry, very displeased that the other couldn't see it. They now had both turned around, but you could not say that they were looking each other when it was pitch black inside of the box.

"You think you're funny, don't you Harry."

"Damn right I do."

For the past 20 or 30 minutes they had been trying to get rid of the plastic strings and all that they've gotten out of it was frustration and pain.

And the realization that it actually was saltwater, a "truly horrible fact, now you do have to worry about your shoes, don't rack your brain too much about it", how Harry had commented on it. Michele's reply had been another pinch of the Irish's butt.

"Hey, ready for another try?" Harry asked into this silence.

"Sure, turn around."

As he shuffled around, he asked: "Do you know Gerald's Game?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"It's a Stephen King Book. There's this scene where the protagonist cuts herself and gets rid of the handcuffs like this."

"Just because she cuts herself?"

"It's because she skins most of her hand by cutting and the blood also makes it easier."

"Oh."

"But sadly all of your knives are gone…"

"Harry, if we still had my knives we would have-"

"So that we are still in this box and have to talk about stuff like this."

Michele rolled his eyes and leant a bit forward, just so the water would stop to run down his back as he started to put his heel between Harry's hands once more, pressing down on the zip ties.

"You know what I just realize?" he asked as the other hissed.

"Tell me" Harry still managed to get out.

"It was not very gentlemanlike of Arthur to not grant us a dying wish."

"He knew if he would have, mine would have been to punch him so hard he just passes out."

Michele thought about it for a second before he shrugged again and nodded: "Nice one. You know what mine would have been?"

"To kiss me probably – aww dammit!"

"Should I stop again?"

"Yes please."

Michele took his foot away: "You're good, by the way. I mean, would have been like second choice after telling him to get back to England, taking everything with him and never ever put a sorry foot on Sicilian ground again … But yes, if you had said knocking him out, I would have gone for a kiss."

"Guessed so. I mean, all this bullshit practically wouldn't have happened if you wouldn't have tried to 'seduce' me all the time, so not seizing every opportunity would have been a waste, right?"

"What do you mean by 'seduce'-"

"But can I ask you something else?"

"I'm listening, also -"

"Do you ever thought it would end with you like this?"

"- you talk quite a lot when you are devastated, don't you Harry."

"Who the hell said I am devastated."

"You are sitting in a wooden box, left to drown … together with me."

"I think I gave up any emotions."

"… No I never thought it would end like this with me. Did you?"

"This whole thing was so bullshit cliché from the start, I don't really wonder about it."

"An appropriate ending for the story then, huh?"

Harry laughed, and he laughed long and Michele didn't thought he would have been able to smile in this situation but he was.

"Your laughter sounds so full of heart" he hummed really quietly, more like talking to himself.

"My laughter sounds dirty, nasty and wrong but thank you" the other corrected him since he had still heard it. "That's what almost everybody else said about it."

"Then they didn't listen right."

"Probably" Harry said with a smile in his voice. "The water has stopped again."

"It's most certainly an old warehouse we're in, the water pipes and everything else surely doesn't works as good as it should anymore."

Harry nodded and looked to the side.

The silence came back, filling the box and for some reason, Michele felt like it would crush him. Like the silence was something with actual weight, like gas that makes you cough and your chest feeling heavy until you were unable to breath.

"If the others aren't going to save us, we'll die in here."

"That's right Watson."

"Aren't you upset? Oh come on, I expected a bit more fighting spirit from you."

"Trust me, there is a lot of fighting spirit. I am just channelling it right now. Because yelling won't help me here."

"Oh, very serious out of sudden" Michele said with a smirk in his voice.

"I'm just professional – unlike you."

"Excuse you?" The smirk was gone. "I am very professional."

"Yes, you've been very professional, telling me that you want to shag me at our very first meeting and literally doing nothing but flirting with me until the very moment, which we are spending tied up in a wooden box getting flooded. Very professional Vento, very fucking professional."

Michele was silent for a second before he quietly and dauntedly admitted "Maybe I wasn't professional." Harry chuckled as the Sicilian carried on: "But it's still … interesting how calm you became. Honestly wouldn't have expected it."

The Irish sigh sounded exasperated: "I am very determined to keep a promise I gave somebody. Try it again."

Michele carefully felt around for his hands with his foot again: "You gave a promise? To who?"

"None of your business" he replied before clenching his teeth.

"Please don't tell me it's a special little lady."

Harry laughed, interrupted by a small cry of pain: "It is a special little lady."

Surprised he looked over his shoulder – not because he'd actually see anything but he felt like he had to look why Michele stop.

"Oh god."

"What?"

"I am so sorry Harry, if I had known …"

"Actually I am not so sure about the lady. Special? Yes. Little? Yes. Lady? Nah … I've got a special little sheep waiting for me."

Once more, silence filled the box and as Michele spoke up, he sounded distraught:

"I … I have heard about the stereotypes and all the jokes but this is – "

"Oh come on! It's my little sister Soph, only her nickname is sheep!" A small thought he couldn't quite catch flew through his head when he said this. Have I said too much?

Michele laughed and Harry had the mighty need to turn around and kick him.

"Now there's the fire I missed in you ~"

"If you made that sheep shagger joke only to piss me off, then I will find a way to get out of this and leave you to drown here."

"I just saw the opportunity and took it" Michele replied. "Besides that … that really threw me off a bit."

"Did you really think I –"

"No!"

"Good!"

Once more the heavy silence came back and once more Michele had to break it before the feeling of suffocation came back:

"You know … if you really want to see Soph again … we should probably risking doing it Gerald's Game style."

"The water started pouring again."

"That's why I'm saying it."

Harry stopped nibbling on his bottom lip and let his head hang.

"I can go first, too, you know Harry."

"No, no … it's fine. Try again."

He put his feet between the other's hands again and pressed it down, and Harry wanted to say something but had to grit his teeth now.

A little "Ouch" escaped his mouth anyways when the strings cut into his skin, but Michele didn't stop, no matter how much he had cringe whenever another painful sound slipped from Harry's lips.

The next minutes felt like an eternity, especially to Harry who had bit his lip so hard it bled, even when they had already started losing track of time, but finally, the ties slipped over his hands.

"Finally!" Harry whispered and shook his hands, running one hand over the other wrist and laughing: "Oh god, I'm free!"

He turned around, bumping his head into the top of the box and after quietly cursing, he put his hands on Michele's knees: "Make room, gotta get to your hands."

"Always for you, bello" Michele purred and spread his legs, so Harry crawled almost onto his lap, putting his arms behind his back and resting his head on his shoulder.

"You know, it didn't even hurt that bad" he said and Michele pressed his face to the Irish's neck.

"That's nice to know."

He forced his hand between Michele's and grit his teeth again, before hissing: "Try to get them out, I'll help."

The Sicilian was pursing his lips and started to wiggle his hands out of it. It hurt his already raw wrists, he almost disarticulated himself a few fingers several times but he came free after another few minutes.

"Oh god, it hurts" he muttered, relieved though, grabbing Harry's shoulder and then running his arm down to his wrist when the Irish was backing away.

"And you are sure this is okay?" he whispered and kissed it, leaving kisses all over the wrist and hand before Harry pulled it away, glad that it was so dark in the box.

Although he wished he had no red face to be hidden in the first place, what the hell was going on with him and his body, what was the Sicilian doing that made it react like this?!

"Idiot, rather think about how we're getting out of this box!"

"Now the good question is – how to get inside" Lorenzo muttered, mouth covered by his hand he was resting his chin on.

"With nobody finding us until we found what we have been looking for" Marco added, scratching his head.

They stood on a lift midway between the hill it was on and the abandoned building below them.

The sun had almost gone down, wind had gotten up and Charlie froze underneath his suit jacket, wishing the others wouldn't have gotten in such trouble.

The next second he shook his head, wanting to slap himself for having such thoughts – It clearly wasn't Frecky's fault he stood here freezing.

"And we should hurry up a bit, shouldn't we?" he asked instead and the twins turned their heads to look at him.

"You're right" Marco said.

"For once" his brother mumbled and they looked at the building again: "I bet they have cameras."

"But I bet they aren't some high-tech shit" Charlie commented. "They didn't have the time for it nor the space. I'd go for webcams in that case."

"And how are we gonna take care of them?" Paddy asked, leaning against the car.

It made the Mito look even smaller.

"Hacking! But I'm too stupid for this."

He looked at the twins but they shook their heads:

"No idea how."

"But if it are webcams, they most certainly have it connected in some way, I could do something about that though …" Charlie piped in again.

"Or we just find out where they are" Lorenzo cut him off and walked over to the car, opening the driver's door and pulling a knife out of the side, grinning slightly: "And do it the old school way."

"Wait, wait, wait – is that a ballistic knife?" Charlie asked and now both of the Sicilians grinned.

"God, those things are great!" it came from Paddy and the twins stopped grinning and started to look irritated at the Irish.

"We had tons of those! We still have, but we usually don't use them anymore" he continued smiling. "Where do you have that one from? It doesn't look like anything I've seen before!"

Charlie snickered and the twins sighed relieved, Lorenzo turning the knife in his hand around: "Built that one myself, I was curious how they worked so I looked it up and made my own."

Marco had walked over to the car in the meantime, opening the back door: "The others we have are actually from the US, army knives, you get me. No Italian Quality Goods, sadly."

"There is such a thing as Italian Quality goods?" Charlie mentioned before a gun almost hit him in the face.

"Stop the jokes and brace yourself – I suppose both of you don't have any weapon?"

"Is that a Walther?" Charlie asked when Marco tossed Paddy the same gun after the Irish had nodded concerning the Sicilian's question.

"First complaining about how I make jokes about Italian quality goods and then giving me a German weapon" he said annoyed and rushed under his breath, only to earn a hit from Marco as the Sicilian walked past him over to his brother.

"So the plan is to destroy every camera we find and get to what we want which is either our bosses or the information where they are" Lorenzo explained, still playing with the knife between his hands.

"So Bailey, Rashid or Kirkland himself" Paddy said and the twins nodded.

"I also think we should part – The chances of finding something are higher then" Marco continued and Charlie grinned:

"Also the confusion. I mean, they could easily track us when they just follow the webcams that failed – but then they have to follow two paths."

"Right …" Lorenzo said before putting his gun into the holster attached to his belt and turning around, kneeling down on the ground, his eyes wandering over the estate.

"Hey, these are those kind of … clip on holster?" Charlie commented after he had watched Marco putting his gun into the same as his brother.

"Yes, they are pretty – Wait, I'll get you two them" he sighed and walked over to the car and opened the back door again. The floor of the cargo bay was unusual high for a Mito and Marco put his finger into a small dent on the floor, pulling it up – and under the floor were guns, rifles, a few knives, ammunition and holster.

When Marco leant forward to grab two, he heard somebody behind him whistle.

"That's a nice collection you have there" Charlie smiled after Marco had swirled around, an angry snort slipping from his lips.

"Don't sneak up on me, you bastard" he bristled after turning to the car again and Charlie chuckled, leaning in close, his head almost on the Sicilian's shoulder when he murmured into his ear:

"Terrible sorry. Didn't thought you'd be startled that easily, sweetheart."

"Call me sweetheart again and you're gonna get it, Higgins" was the whispered answer, before he slapped the Irish with the holsters he had just grabbed and the other stepped back, quietly laughing:

"Depends on what it is, I'll start calling you sweetheart only until I get it."

"Try it" he growled, tossing him one and Charlie caught it, looking the Sicilian in the eyes for a few seconds before he clipped it to his belt:

"I don't know why, but I somehow believe that it will be pretty much not the stuff I think about … I think I pass this opportunity."

Marco cocked an eyebrow before he turned around to give Paddy the other one: "Would you look at that, you are not as stupid as it seems."

Charlie only grinned when he walked past him to his brother, whispering: "For now, sweetheart ~" and the only reason Marco didn't kick him off the lift was that the last thing they needed now was more trouble.

"So, spotted anything?" the Irish asked Lorenzo who nodded: "Spotted the first two cameras and also about three people inside the building; I suppose it are actually way more but they are only on the second floor, so I am pretty sure we'll find something there."

"You have pretty good eyesight" Charlie first said after he had tried to spot the camera as well but couldn't find a thing. As Lorenzo didn't answer he sighed and hunkered down beside him: "So what's the plan exactly? We take care of the cameras and of everyone in our way as quick as possible so that nobody will suspect a thing and as soon as we find either them or one of the English, we leave?"

"Not exactly; We take care of it all, yes, but our subordinates will follow us close after – we don't want to kill somebody so even though we knock them out, we need back up."

"We always need back up" Charlie murmured before he got up: "How do we get down? I mean, without being seen?"

"With help of the surroundings and a tad bit of skill, Signore" Marco grinned, standing beside his brother: "There are plenty of shrubs all around the building, it'll be easy …"

He turned around and looked at Paddy.

After a second, all did.

And after five more seconds, Paddy sighed and rubbed his eyes with his right hand: "I can duck, you know? Trust me, I wouldn't have survived 24 years in this damn business if I would have been too stupid to hide."

"Nobody talked about stupidity, you are just kind of handicapped because of your mere size, old man" Charlie gave back and the twins just sighed after looking at each other.

"I don't think we should waste any more time and just get going, praying for luck" Lorenzo said and got up, walking over to the car again, this time to the backdoor.

A few seconds later he came back with another ballistic knife: "You'll need one, too. Who am I allowed to give it?"

"Me!" it came from both of the Irish, causing them to look at each other and that the twins had to hold their laughter back.

"Fight it out" he snorted and threw it in between them, the knife getting stuck in the ground.

"That was childish" Marco whispered after Lorenzo had walked over to him, his brother only grinning at him: "Exactly their level then."

"We can go, what's the way?" Paddy wanted to know just a few moments later – Charlie was too busy with pouting and glaring at the older man before he followed Marco's arm pointing at some shrubs and trees nearby: "There's a beaten path beneath them. We'll get down there, take care of the first camera and enter the building, part our ways and that's it."

"What if one finds what we are looking for?" Paddy asked further. "How do we inform the others?"

"Phone" was the short answer of the other three and Lorenzo tossed Charlie his phone, who cocked an eyebrow, but wrote his number in their contacts without complaint.

"Keep it, you might need it one day" he commented smirking when he gave it back to the Sicilian.

"I highly doubt that" Lorenzo snarled and put it back in his pocket.

"Now, just wait a bit Mister Bontade" was all the other hummed before walking over to the path they had pointed out.

"Well then, let's get going gentlemen!"

"This bullshit electronics, is there not even one reliable thing in this world" Robert growled when he tapped the laptop keyboard several time but it did nothing to the black screen of the first square.

But then he shrugged; it wasn't his business after all, one of the others should go look after -

Another square went black. Another one right after it.

When the fourth and last one of the outside cameras went out, Robert knew there was somebody messing with them.

"If it's those stupid Irish, I swear I will kick their arses personally" he said to himself before pressing the button on his headset: "One of you better get their arse down in to the ground floor! Jones, Taylor, Williams, you'll do it and check the cameras one to four and the rest of you better look if something's going on outside."

He knew it was already too late, when he only heard "Yes Sir!" eight times instead of nine.

"Dear lord, I hope they drowned already" Robert groaned, pressing another button: "Hey! Lewis, King, you two better tell me that the job is done!"

The bad quality of Lewis' high voice made him cringe and he wished that the connection would have been better. Or that Lewis' voice wouldn't be so obnoxious.

"Well, there are a few technical problems, but they'll be solved in no time, Sir!"

"Technical – You better solve them! Right away! What have you done for the last hours?!"

"Sir, I am –"

"Get back to work" Robert growled.

He didn't thought Lewis voice could get even more squeaky: "Yes Sir!"

Could he not be surrounded by idiots just once? Why was it always his turn to get the gits and stupids whenever it was something important like this?

"In the end, you have to do it all by yourself if you want it to be done right" were Robert's final words before standing up and getting out of the room, carefully looking to both sides of the hallway first, but nobody was there yet.

"Sir, we heard some suspicious noises from the left hallway, things will be done in a minute" was the report from Taylor and although Robert liked it because of it simple and positive content, he agreed that it would be done in a minute for other reasons.

He whistled sharply, paying one look back into the room.

All the ground floor cameras were out except for one, the two in the staircase were also still –

The first one of the staircase went black.

"Sir?"

When he turned around to see only 5 men, he was not surprised but pissed nonetheless.

"They're at the staircase and if it's the Irish I want them captured, not even injured, get me?" he growled with a bored undertone, only pointing over his shoulder with his thumb to the staircase.

"Yes, Sir!" was the response by his subordinates before they went past him and Robert looked into the room again.

All of the cameras had gone out.

"Then this is already done" he sighed and pressed the button on his headset again: "They are up here, go look for them, two of you stay at the staircase."

Then he got his gun out from its holster and released the safety catch, listening for noises.

Footsteps at the staircase, those noises were his men. Otherwise it was completely silent.

What are you playing here? Hide and Seek? I know what you want.

Footsteps from the right hallway. Could be his men. Could be the enemy.

And you sure as hell won't find it here.

Leaving footsteps from the right hallway. The chances were higher now that it was the intruders.

The complete silence kicked in again. Robert could only hear his own shallow breathing and then his heart beat, when it sped up.

Silence. No noises. But the feeling that it was just a thick, soundproof layer over a giant storm turned him on, made the adrenaline running through his veins and a grin creeping on his face.

Hold your breath down, be professional … A successful hunter never lets himself get carried away.

To be honest, right now he wanted to walk around, looking for them, slipping into the role of the chaser, but it was not the right time.

He wasn't supposed to look for them; He was supposed to wait for them.

"Sir, somebody's coming up the stairs!" his headset interrupted and he cringed, almost barking at his men through it before he heard footsteps from the left side, yelling, a gunshot and then the sound of something heavy falling to the ground. Two times.

"You all are better not dead, otherwise I won't have the chance to carpet you bloody twats" was Robert's pissed off comment before he pulled his phone out of his pocket; he couldn't risk that the headset wouldn't work over such a distance.

"What's it, Bailey?" the person on the other end of the phone droned.

"Well, I'm fucked."

"Please, for the love of god, there is a time, place and a person to tell intimate details" was the answer from Rashid and Robert wished he could slap him right now

"We have a problem because these morons are cleverer than we thought, just get your arse back here!" he barked before hitting decline and hearing noises from the right hallway.

The next moment a knife flew past his left ear and hit the wall with a disgusting sharp sound.

And he heard the giggling from around the corner, no matter how quiet it was supposed to be and his shock turned into anger within a second.

Robert swirled around and yelled: "Be a man and face me, you bloody poof! I'll give you a real chance since you can't even hit me from a few meters away!"

There was silence for a short time, before Higgins peeked around the corner: "That was not very nice, Robert."

His head disappeared before he came into the hallway, standing exactly in the middle, just a few meters away from Robert, a really tired look on his face: "And who ever said I wanted to hit you?"

"Good excuse, but I believe your aim is just too shitty. Cut the dramatic crap, you are lucky you even got this close to my head."

"Dear lord, if I would have hit your head, would the damage have been so serious? There's nothing in it."

"Could have said the same about you, I should probably shoot between your legs since that is what you think with."

"Either you just pulled a very stupid, sexist joke in general or making it all about my sexuality again, either way it's not funny."

"I find the whole situation not funny" O'Neill joined the conversation, stepping behind Higgins. He looked at Robert: "Where are they."

The question didn't sound like one, more like a demand and Robert had to grin again.

"You mean O'Connel and Vento? Who knows …" he shrugged. "Probably off the hooks by now. Well, not yet, but I think your precious boss is going home in a box." The rage on Higgin's face just spurred him on further: "You'll maybe never even find his corpse."

The Englishman sighed amused: "What did you expect? You come here and I tell you everything! I mean, what made you think I would?" His voice had an almost pitiful tone now: "What do you broke people have to make me?"

"Broken bones" Higgins snarled. "Or would you prefer selling your soul and boss over it? Cause all I heard in that last sentence was 'mimimi, I'm a greedy bitch'!"

"Charlie-" O'Neill started, but Robert interrupted him with his reply for Higgins:

"Oh no, I don't want your money. I simply wanted to say that you HAVE nothing. No money to run your sorry company, not nearly enough men to run your sorry company and no boss to run your sorry company – not anymore at least. And what's left now is an old sod and a little useless bitch, back against the wall."

"You are the one with the back against the wall!" Higgins shouted back. "Face it, the thing you are doing here is last man standing!"

That comeback was so silly and desperate, the Englishman let a half-suppressed laugh slip through his lips, spitting out an "Is that so" before completing it with an actual but small laugh and a sigh.

"Then I will stand my ground until the end!" he said, pointing his gun at the Irishman.

"I won't let myself get taken down by somebody like you!"

The former aggressive smile turned into an amused and despising grin:

"Who am I to lose against a useless poof like you who can't even properly take care of their boss! Gay people just aren't made for that kind of job!"

"You are a giant dick for that kind of comment, you know that?" somebody behind him called and Robert turned around only to see those two obnoxious Sicilian twins.

One of them played with a headset by throwing it upwards and catching it with the same hand over and over again.

It looked like the ones the English were using.

Before he could spit out a "You little bastards" a gunshot cut through the scenery and so did the following scream.