Chapter 7
Decoys and Deflection
A hood smothered him.
Inside, Levi's breath was warm, and it smelled rank from the blood and moisture accumulating. He could barely breathe through his injured stuffy nose, and trying to breathe through his mouth was equivalent to licking sandpaper. Fuck, he was thirsty. Although everything under the hood was hot, the rest of his body was cold and shivering.
He sat in something metal—had to be a chair, with his hands bound to the armrests. Judging by the restriction and the narrow material around his wrists, he guessed it was zip-ties instead of ropes, cuffs, or tape. The skin was chafing in the little movement he made, and it wouldn't take long for it to turn his skin raw.
There was a sting and a hot ache on the back of his scalp. Levi wanted to reach a hand to it, feeling like his hair was caked together by dried blood. It took a few drawn out seconds before he managed to seize the memory of the wound.
Yes. He had been hit in the head. But the confusion as to what led to him being there was still present.
Closing his eyes, he hung his head till his chin touched his chest. It seemed to alleviate some of the dizziness. His breathing slowed with his heartrate and thoughts, until they were just dust particles suspended in the air. He forced himself to think. To focus. One thing at a time.
What happened before I passed out?
He remembered being at the estate, surrounded by chortling elites. Then came face to face with Zeke Yeager. Recalled how he whispered in his ear threateningly, proposed Levi to work for him alone, and then held him to his side to keep him from escaping.
After that.
Isabel was there. With the rival from his last job. What was his name? Mitch? Mike? It didn't matter. He had found Isabel. Conned her into arriving at the estate under the guise of a business date after meeting her at the smoothie café. Then Levi sent her home.
After that.
The moist smell of loam, branches whipping across his cheeks as he sprinted through the forest. An authoritative voice demanding submission at the tip of a blade.
It was like he had backed his spring-loaded memory as far as it would go, and now released it. The recollection rocketed forward through a blur. The gunshots, grappling in the mud. Straining muscles against someone much stronger than him, holding him down. He remembered getting free and resolving to kill the two men. Then there was the firm hand, holding him in place with the threat of his life.
Right. I'm captured by whoever that asshole works for. Obviously, the one who knocked him out was with the same group. Who that was exactly was still a mystery.
If it was the government, Levi would be in deep shit. Whoever the guy worked with; it wasn't with Scottland Yard unless they had been approved of some undercover operation to flush Levi out. But he was confident enough to dismiss that possibility. If it was the government, it was likely a more elite unit than the ones who served the public interest. Someone who had resources and means to uproot a ghost to the Russian Mafia. He doubt that was the case, however, seeing as Levi would be one of the last people on their radar. There was a whole list of other members of Mitras that would have been approached way before Levi.
Truly, he found it more likely the men belonged to a rival mob, where criminal accomplices had a higher chance of overlapping. Either way, Levi expected to find out soon, likely to be faced with some sort of Lovof doppelganger. Some older rich bastard, too strung up on his ego to hide his cockiness and entitled nature while he spoke to Levi in a condescending tone.
Levi sniffled, trying to clear his nose of the dried blood to breathe clearly. He tried to evaluate his situation, starting with himself. He was cold, aching all over, incredibly thirsty, and his head felt like his brain was swelling out of his skull. His right eye felt irritated and dry, which caused his frustrations to turn acidic. He didn't know how long he was unconscious, but sleeping with his contact in was not a good start to waking up.
He needed to get it out as soon as possible, and yet he wasn't fond of the idea of asking his captors for the favor. Just the thought of their dirty fingers near his eye made him cringe. Then there was the filthy grime on his wounded throat. That would need to be cleaned to avoid infection. In the end, there was not much he could do about his personal situation.
Beyond the fabric around his face, he could hear the quiet murmur of voices nearby. He couldn't quite estimate the distance between him and his captors. They sounded far, yet by the hushed sonority, they couldn't be too far. Enough to be out of striking distance (if he could move his fucking arms), but close enough to be in the same… room? He had to be in a room of some sort. After all, the ground beneath his shoes felt solid and smooth. Still, whoever they were, their voices carried conspiratory fluctuations that Levi found comforting.
If he was making them anxious by being tied up, then they would be apprehensive to treat him too poorly. You were only ever nervous around a captive if you felt you didn't hold all of the power. Perhaps, Levi could use that to his advantage. On the other hand, it wasn't exactly ideal for him, either. That meant whoever kept him restrained would not be inclined to drop their guard.
He tried to listen to the conversation, but he could only make out a few words in each sentence—not enough to make sense or to get a gist of what they were talking about. Levi tried to stretch his senses beyond the stifling hood, to hear if there were others, maybe someone closer who guarded him and remained quiet. But if there was, they were extremely disciplined. He could hear neither breath nor rustle of fabric to give them away. Just the voices.
Then footsteps approached. Soles of sturdy shoes clipping on what was either tile or concrete and the sound of a door closing.
Levi clenched his fists, held his breath and tightened his stomach, forcing blood into his extremities and hoping to put life back in his fingers. Not that he'd be able to use them if he needed to, but he hoped it would force blood into his head and increase his mental focus. Supposedly, Isabel had said it helped when adrenaline was sparce.
A scrape of what sounded like legs of a chair across the floor blistered through the pain in his head and he barely noticed a second set of footsteps walking behind him.
The hood was tugged off, unkindly snagging a few hairs from his crown in the process. His gaze shifted quickly, right to left, eye cleared enough to see his nearly too-bright environment: A blank, grey room that seemed carved from a single block of concrete. Florescent lighting panels hung overhead and a white bulbed camera stared at him from the corner of the ceiling. He was correct in his deduction of the metal chair and zip-ties but hadn't expected the foldable table in front of him. Levi made a mental note that there was also someone out of sight behind him and shifted his focus forward.
The only other visible thing in the room was an unknown man, who was decidedly not a decrepit old codger. In fact, he looked rather young with no grey hair in the rich flaxen hue, smooth skin over high regal cheek bones, and a strong jaw.
His assertive presence filled the space and was a warmth of color upon the dreariness of the room. A Prussian blue suit with a white button-up clung to his broad shoulders and tapered down his sides which disappeared behind the table. There was no tie to his ensemble and the top two buttons were undone, showing the tiniest hint of golden curls. His forearms were posted on the edge of the table where his large, unscarred hands folded together in front of him.
Levi dragged his gaze up the expensive fabric to his face where sterling grey eyes collided with cornflower blue. The man's gaze was intense. Bright, focused, and clear. They were so different than the cool toned gaze of Furlan, almost as vibrant and pure as he imagined glaciers to be.
Levi furrowed his brows when he realized he was openly staring. He blamed it on his fogged mind and pain that wracked through his skull.
"The disorientation will pass soon enough," the man offered with a euphonic timbre, mistaking the pinched gaze as a reaction to the brightness. "If you cooperate with our questions, then we can turn our focus on cleaning up your injuries for you."
He has a nice voice.
Ignoring his escaped thought, Levi didn't feel like correcting the man's misguided assumptions and instead asked, "How long have I been out?"
His thoughts still felt scattered and ragged, and finding intelligent speech was difficult with his parched mouth. But he hoped that the simple question following the man's request for cooperation would reveal information to the captive.
"Long enough to get you here," the man gestured to the room, unhelpfully.
Think. Levi needed to think and keep his wits about him.
"And where's here?"
"Currently, you're in one of the compounds I oversee."
For the man requesting cooperation, he was doing an awful job of returning the favor. Levi could have deduced that much on his own. Instead of inquiring further, Levi closed his eyes for a moment and focused on his breathing.
He hated how dazed he was feeling, almost certain he had a concussion. His temple was pounding, and he was sure it was visible beneath his fringe.
"Are you hungry or thirsty?" the man asked.
Opening his eyes, Levi contemplated his response. He felt nauseous, but desperately he wanted something to drink. The problem was, Levi wasn't comfortable enough in consuming anything they had to offer.
While, logically speaking, if they wanted to harm him, they could've just killed him in the woods, so drugging or poisoning him now was pointless. But if they wanted to extract answers from him—which was what it sounded like—there were chemicals that could be added to food or drink to throw him into a world of hurt. The pain would be excruciating, and they would utter sweet promises to make it go away if he just told the truth. Which was all a lie. Once someone drank that fatalistic cocktail, the best they could hope for was a mercy killing.
Levi would know. It was one of Lovof's special requests for those who betrayed him.
The recollection made his stomach summersault and he decided to play it safe, shaking his head slowly.
The man watched Levi with moderate interest before straightening his posture an inch. "Very well, then let us begin. I believe that despite our unorthodox introduction, it's not too late to establish a proper preface. My name is Erwin Smith. What is yours?"
"I'm sure you already know it." Was this guy always so proper or was it a mask?
Smith tilted his head a degree or two with a tight smile. "Please, just answer the question."
Levi's mouth worked, trying to conjure a smartass response, but all his sass seemed to have fled him. He couldn't even begin to think of something biting to say. "Levi."
"It's nice to meet you, Levi."
He was having a difficult time getting a read on Smith. Whether he was genuinely this polite or if it was just a part of his image, an accessory to his tailored suit, Levi wasn't sure. It only made his distrust of the blond all the more relevant.
"What do you want from me?"
"I have some questions that I'd appreciate answers to. And I have a proposition for you."
"A proposition?" He felt his face fall at the sense of déjà vu.
"Yes. But we'll get to that shortly."
Levi clicked his tongue against his teeth, eyes narrowing disdainfully. "You know… I've had enough deals with entitled pricks to be good for a lifetime. I'm not interested in another."
Smith didn't seem perturbed by his rejection, only amused. "Be that as it may, I still would value you listening to it before making a final decision."
Instead of arguing, Levi decided to try his hand at redirecting the conversation away from the blonde's control. "What happened to my friends? Did you do something to them?"
He distinctly remembered Mike making a run through the woods toward the main road and the younger gunman coming from that direction to stop Levi. Did they have a car out there waiting for Furlan and Isabel to pass?
A part of him hoped that Smith would be confused, not knowing what Levi was referring to. But the fact that he remained unreadably pleasant, caused Levi's chest to tighten.
"As far as I'm aware, your companions are safe after leaving the Fritz property," Smith reassured easily, before pausing. "Although, it's safe to say they're worried about you, especially since you haven't responded to them." Pulling out a black phone from his pocket, he set it down on the table directly in front of him and explained, "There's quite a lot of missed calls and messages. If you agree to hear what I have to say, I'll let you contact them to ease their concerns."
Levi's glare turned skeptical, but he couldn't keep his gaze from dropping to the small device. "All I have to do is listen to you?" He glanced back to see the man's reaction.
Smith gave a simple nod, eyes gleaming with the beginnings of victory. He knew he had Levi's attention.
"That's it." He splayed his hands open as if showing he had nothing to hide. "You have no obligation to make a decision right away, just hear me out."
It was hard to deny the appeal, even if there was a catch. Levi needed to make sure Furlan and Isabel were safe, as well as to let them know he wasn't dead in some ditch. Instead of voicing any false promises to Smith, he only offered a nod in agreement.
"I'm glad we have an understanding. Which is your dominant hand, Levi?"
"… My right."
Smith's attention lifted to the man behind who stepped forward with a knife. It came as no surprise that the one who appeared on his left to cut his wrist free was Mike. The towering giant glowered warningly at Levi who peeled his free arm off the armrest, glaring back at the man who took a few steps back to his original spot, out of Levi's view.
Levi wasn't shocked to have his non-dominant hand released, recognizing that Smith was being extremely cautious when handling the hitman. He was right, these people would not be dropping their guard so easily around him.
Meeting Smith's gaze, the blond pushed the phone across the table for Levi who accepted it quietly.
Thumbing the screen open, he noted that it was almost out of battery and nearly 11 am the following day. A frown tugged at his lips.
With his limited medical knowledge, he knew that a hit to the head which caused unconsciousness lasting that long meant he had a worse injury than he expected. Bad enough to warrant medical interference. However, the nausea, dizziness, and momentary amnesia were not consistent with that theory. It only made sense that it was a mild concussion and they drugged him to keep him out so long. Which would explain the bout of panic when he woke.
So, they do have drugs at their disposal. Good to keep in mind.
Across the banner of his phone, he noticed the multitude of missed calls and messages. Not bothering to read any of them, he clicked on Furlan's name and brought the phone to his ear.
It was strange that Smith was not opposed to him calling his friends rather than sending a message. Actually… why didn't Smith just respond to the texts himself?
He could have scrolled through the messages to see how Levi usually replied and mirrored a response. It wasn't a complicated process to replicate in his stead, as he usually reacted with short and sweet replies. Really, it would've been so simple to ease his friends' concerns and not bargain with Levi, but Smith refrained. He risked Furlan and Isabel calling the Yard and an investigation taking place-not that they would've done that.
Being an attack dog for the Russian Mafia didn't offer the same luxuries of normal people of society to have the police search for him. Furlan and Isabel would never call the Yard to file a missing persons case. But Smith wouldn't know that.
Would he?
Keeping his eyes on Smith, he was met with Furlan's worried voice practically shouting through the speaker, causing him to pull the phone away as his head throbbed.
"Relax, I'm alright… No…. No… Is she home safe?... Good… Not right now."
Furlan started chattering about something Isabel said when she got in the car that worried him, but Levi wasn't paying attention. He wanted to know what Smith wanted. Why Levi was here and how long this charade of politeness would last.
Normally, a person would avert their gaze, look at their fingernails, feign disinterest when someone was on a phone. Show some display that acted as if they weren't eavesdropping.
But Smith did not do any of that. He stared right into Levi and waited until he was finished.
Levi had nothing to offer the man, so why was he here? Did he want the shield artifact? He'd be disappointed because he no longer had it. Perhaps he wanted Levi to retrieve it from Lovof, though good luck with that. Levi had no idea where it would even be, let alone if Lovof still had it.
Speaking of the cunt, he was sure to be wondering where Levi was and his success with the tapestry. The evidence of such was either in or would be added to the number of unread messages on his phone.
"Furlan. Take Isabel away for a while. "
The line went quiet, and Levi briefly wondered if he lost connection before Furlan responded somberly. "How long?"
That was the question Levi wished he knew the answer to. Instead, he elusively responded, "Don't want the boss looking for her." Use your best judgement. Furlan would know what that meant.
"And… how long until you're back?... Do I need to start that tech shit?" Do I need to trace your phone and find where you are?
That would be ideal, in any other case, but something was holding Levi back from answering.
The man in front of him gave the phone all too easily. He didn't even ask for Levi to have the conversation on speaker, which now seemed all too convenient. Too benevolent for someone who kidnapped him, drugged him, and tied him to a chair.
Was the phone bugged? Was that why Smith was letting him have a conversation with his friend? Were they going to go to the apartment and kidnap them too? Hold them hostage to get Levi to cooperate?
How long had Levi been on the phone for? Did it even matter anymore? With technology these days, it was probably traceable as soon as Furlan answered the phone. Was that why Smith hadn't responded to Furlan in Levi's place? Incase it tipped him off and he started to trace it to Levi's location? Did he even know Furlan was capable of that? Or were they simply listening in to their conversation?
"I'll call you later. Take care of each other." It was all he could say as the voice in his head cursed him for being so stupid. For using the phone so easily rather than predicting the man's intentions.
Fucking moron! Did he really just put his friends in danger?
Hanging up the phone, he set it on the table between them with a thud. The air grew thick, the silence stretched on. The weight of the phone, a black stain against the stark white tabletop like a reminder of his mistake.
"You have nothing to worry about." Smith broached carefully as if reading his mind. His startling blue eyes dropped to the phone, then lazily lifted to meet Levi. "It was an honest transaction on my end with no hidden motive, so long as you hold up your half of the bargain."
Ah, so there was the rub. If Levi didn't listen to what they had to say, they'd make a move against his friends.
Mind reeling from his monumental mistake, he turned his ire outward to the source of his problems.
"How did you find Isabel?"
Smith contemplated the question, not rushing to offer an answer.
Levi wasn't about to let him have the time to come up with an untruthful response, so he pressed further, going on the offensive. That was something he knew how to do. Especially when he was tired of being on the receiving end of people's bullshit.
"Is your man some kind of pervert, or just happened to get lucky that he conned Isabel of all the people in that shop? Tsk... Nah-he didn't get lucky. He may be a pervert but what he did was calculated, which means it was really your idea, wasn't it? You seem to be the one with the brains here."
Smith didn't offer a response right away, though the pleasantness had dropped to a blank stare. There was a disgruntled noise from behind him at the unsavory insult, but Levi paid no mind to Mike's wounded ego. He was ready to circle back and add more to the taunts in hopes it would fire a reaction from Smith.
"It's pretty fucking creepy that two full grown men decided to target a young woman just to get to me. Wonder what that says about your character. Do you think that makes me see you as trustworthy? Sick fucks more like it."
It was a noble effort, but Smith remained undeterred from his stoic pose. The miniscule change in his demeanor was a sharpening of his gaze and tightening of his lips. He crossed one leg over the other and fixed Levi with a look like he was an unruly student needing correcting.
"While you think you're justified to point the blame at us, we merely exploited the weakness of your boss' organization. If you're going to be angry with anyone, it should be at your own people. Not everyone has taken care to hide their identity and remain invisible like you. Speaking of your anonymity, it is truly remarkable the level you achieved. You should be proud of that. "
Levi huffed, not buying the flattery. "It doesn't come without sacrifice."
"I can imagine."
A beat passed as Smith evaluated Levi, eyes tracing over his face as if there was something he wanted to map and memorize. Swallowing down the rising uneasiness, Levi tried to put more heat behind his glare.
"To correct your accusation," Smith continued after a moment, almost as if he was distracted and coming back to the conversation, "it was simply a matter of backtracking who was known to have an interest in the artifact that you and Mike met over previously. We merely cross referenced those interested to the people who were accounted for at the auction, and then checked the status of the ones not in attendance… Only three names came up on the list. Curious who they were?"
Levi didn't answer.
"One of the names was a gentleman marked deceased nearly a decade ago. The other moved to another country and retired. The third came back as the co-owner of the Lang Company who, in his free time, hobbies as head of the Mitras Mafia in London. Easy to pick who to follow-up with from there. And as I said, not everyone is so well hidden like you. It only took finding a weak link of the organization to target and the rest was easy. You know how that goes, don't you, Levi?"
Levi only scowled as he listened to the cunning breakdown and Smith's lips twisted into a cold smirk, almost smug in his work.
"Anyway, it's easy to learn about a common thug, especially when they think no one is looking at them. You just need to find out they've been skimming off some of the cuts, in such tiny amounts so as not to be noticed and storing it away in a nest. Then apply a mild, but very real threat that you will leak the information and evidence to Nicholas Lovof if he doesn't give the information we want. After that, the man was all too eager to point us in the right direction, being your friends, Isabel Magnolia and Furlan Church.
To give the man some credit, he refused to say anything about you, Levi. He claimed he didn't know anything about you except you're Nickolas' favorite dog and that he keeps tabs on your friends regularly for him." Erwin paused, contemplating something before adding, "I was inclined to believe him that he didn't know anything else about you. I couldn't be sure how many people would know of your address, and frankly, I didn't think it would be such common knowledge among the members when Nicholas is so proud to have you to himself."
Before he could help it, Levi skin crawled at the phrasing.
Underneath the acceptance to Erwin's explanation, Levi felt deceived. Handed over and shoved under a bus. No, he'd never believe that members of Mitras would have a sense of loyalty to him, but to outright trade information of innocent people to an enemy?
While Levi had become indifferent to the violence he inflicted or the kills he carried out, he had succeeded in learning how to separate his feelings like an on-off switch. But for the first time, Levi wanted to be in Lovof's office. He wanted to inform the boss of the rat under the mafia's roof, the greedy little fucker that he is. The sick bastard who was stupid enough to steal from Lovof and then throw Furlan and Isabel in front of the enemy to save his own skin.
Well, if Levi ever—ever-got the chance, he'd skin that bastard alive and stick him in a vat of battery acid. Too bad he wouldn't be there for Lovof to give the order to him. A real damn shame.
He would've enjoyed that one.
Levi pushed the vengeful thoughts away for another time. Simmering on it would do nothing good for him now. "So, what it comes down to is that you're after the artifact from the auction. The one that went missing."
"Oh, don't play coy," Smith's smile turned saccharine. One would even say charming, "We both know it didn't go missing."
"My point stands. I don't have it."
"I'm aware."
Levi didn't expect that answer.
"Well… I'm not interested in telling you where it's at, either."
"You don't have to. I already know."
Levi felt like he was getting shoved on his back foot, being outmaneuvered because of his lack of knowledge of the man in front of him. "Then why am I here? Who the fuck are you?"
"There's no need to get hostile. We're here having a simple discussion."
"Yeah? Well, if you don't get to the point, you can just fuck off because I'll stop listen."
Smith looked mildly annoyed at the ultimatum but conceded. Levi wanted blunt, so he'd oblige. "I'm in charge of a private contractor business that deals with international criminals and defense. Mike Zacharias, here, is my right-hand man and fulfills the role as Team Leader."
A contractor?
Shit. That was worse than the government.
Contractors were practically legalized, militaristic guns-for-hire with the resources to get away with questionable methods that toed the boundaries of the law. They could easily kill Levi, dispose of his body, and face zero repercussions.
This was bad. Just off the top of his head, it could mean prison time, death, leaking information about Isabel and Furlan and charging them for conspiracy and accessory to Levi's crimes. And the list went on from there.
Shit-shit-shit.
He wasn't sure if it was the heartrate increasing or the heavier breathing that caused his temple to pound, but the thrumming pain forced him to pinch his eyes shut and try to refrain from panicking. He needed to keep his focus.
"I can see that you weren't expecting that."
Levi couldn't keep from snapping, "No shit-Who the fuck expects to be attacked by private contractors at a house party?"
"Hm… that's fair point of view. I suppose I should explain the reason why we were there to begin with." Smith reached out a hand, casually placing it on the table while the other propped on the armrest as he leaned back. A relaxed pose to some, but it felt off to Levi. "You see, my father was a professor who worked with various federal agencies in antiquities and research. His primary habilitation was on the location of a place called Paradis. Have you heard of it?"
Levi gave a half-hearted shrug, his desire to cooperate severely dampened.
Smith didn't seem bothered by it. "To some it's merely a myth or fable told to scare children. To others, it's a mystery that needs to be uncovered. My father had conducted his doctorate on Paradis and found a kernel of truth which sparked his career. Other archeologists, anthropologists and historians refused to humor him with his research, believing it was kryptonite for their occupation… But he continued and discovered various artifacts that were linked, thus verifying the existence of Paradis. The relic that you stole was one such piece."
"Oh, so it's a personal favor then? Your daddy paying you to steal it for him because you're in a position to not get in trouble? Talk about nepotism." Levi scoffed, fingers curling into his palm and clenching. "So, what now? He's disappointed in you because you failed, and you thought you could make up for it by threatening me to hand it over? Get back in his good graces?"
For the first time since they started their discussion, there was a shift in Smith's features by the slightest strain, and marginal narrowing of his eyes. "And what led you to that particular conclusion, Levi?"
"You never said you cared about Paradis. Just your father. If he's got something to prove, of course he'd have you and your contractors try to steal it. Too bad for you, you hadn't accounted for someone else getting to it first."
It was probably a bad idea to taunt the man. No. It definitely was. But Levi was shaking by the unexpected surge of anger that rippled through him. Anxiety and pain were stringing along his emotions, tugging it along with desperation at his situation. It looked bleak to him. Being captured by an untouchable organization.
Then there was the fact that Lovof would come to the conclusion that Levi was either compromised, dead, or made a run for it. God, he hoped the Russian wouldn't think Levi took off. The repercussions would be dire if Levi couldn't convince him otherwise, and he hated to think what sort of persuasion he would need for the man to see reason.
"Why don't you take it up with Lovof?" he continued, recklessly. "Or maybe have your posh dad do it for you, so you don't mess it up agai—"
"Watch your mouth," Smith snapped brusquely, betraying the first modicum of emotion that Levi had seen from him.
Levi said nothing more but kept his challenging stare on him, recognizing when he pushed too hard.
Smith took a deep breath through his nose, the hand on the table reaching for Levi's phone where he ran a finger along the edge absently while the other combed through his hair.
"Do you have intentions of cooperating with me today, Levi?"
"Cooperate how? I've been listening to you like you've asked, and I told you I don't have what you want."
The two men stared at each other in silence. There were many things left unsaid on both their parts and it seemed they were reaching an impasse where neither wanted to reveal any more.
"It's true, I want the shield," Smith stated plainly, "There's no denying that. But you're here because I'm interested in building a rapport with you so we can make a personal deal. One where we can have a mutual benefit in working together."
"No." Levi worked enough saliva into his mouth to moisten it. "If you're wanting me to steal the shield back from my boss, you're barking up the wrong tree."
Smith's face became deadpanned, impatience thinly veiled behind his glacial gaze. They merely evaluated the other, waiting to see who broke first under the heat of their stares. Then, after a long stretch of silence, where Levi was certain the conversation would take a nice little detour towards torture methods, Smith leisurely lifted his hand across the table to Levi's face.
The casual motion caused Levi's eyes to widen, and he jerked his head away at the unpredictable action. "Don't fucking touch me."
Hand hesitating in mid-air, Smith's brows rose as if asking 'really?' to a bratty child acting out.
The next thing Levi knew, fingers twisted in the length of his hair to hold him still, unsympathetic to the scabbed wound. Unfortunately, the man forgot Levi's left arm was still free.
Levi reached back and jabbed his elbow into Mike's ribs, earning a grunt from his target and the hold to release. There was the subtle sound of Mike's foot stepping away to catch himself, but before Levi could make another move, Mike had already recovered.
The hand that grabbed his hair turned aggressive and jerked roughly making Levi grit his teeth as if his temple was splintering. At the same time, his free arm was captured and yanked behind his back to the point he vaguely wondered if his shoulder would dislocate before he was shoved across the tabletop. The left side of his face slammed into the cool surface hard enough that his phone bounced in place and teeth caught the inside of his cheek, followed by a familiar taste of copper that coated his tongue. Pissed off by the manhandling, Levi snarled out a string of vile insults at the man.
It seemed that cordiality had deteriorated as egos turned on one another.
Meanwhile, Smith looked completely unbothered. As if the entire exchange was equivalent to him spending time in a café and reading the morning paper.
"Are you this disobedient to your master? I'd guess not and it's just loyalty that has you behaving like a feral animal." The previous decorum was promptly traded for snide taunts that he aimed at the hitman, and Levi hated how much his poised mocking dug under his skin.
"It's not loyalty, you fuck," Levi spat out before he could stop himself.
But it was already too late.
A look of interest passed over Smith's face, causing him to tilt his head to regard Levi in the awkward position. "No? You're not loyal to Nicholas? Why follow his orders so diligently then?"
Levi did his best to level him with a caustic glare from his position. But his good vision was mostly filled with the textured plastic tabletop, so he settled for just aiming the seedy look in a general direction of the voice.
"What's in it for you if not loyalty?" Smith urged.
"The fuck does it matter?"
"Because I want to understand if I'm wasting my time with you or if your skills warrant diligent pursuit."
The response puzzled Levi whose glare lost its edge slightly, but only in the barest sense. Instead of replying, he remained quiet, not quite sure how to take the bold statement.
Smith didn't hound for an answer. Instead, he evaluated Levi as one would a fascinating new toy, trying to unravel how it worked. Again, his hand reached across the table and Levi's lips lifted into a snarl. Madly jerking under Mike's iron grip didn't earn him an inch of freedom which only stirred his frustrations until it reached a boiling point.
"Fucking touch me and I'll rip your hands off you piece of shit!" he growled, trying to break free.
"Shhh," Smith hushed, amused at the pointlessness of Levi's actions.
"Fucking hold still, you twat," Mike grumbled, and it looked like he was beginning to struggle keeping the smaller man in place.
Smith's index finger and thumb reached Levi's cheek where they pinched together. The tug from his skin was only confirmation of the raised edge of his silicone patch, peeling upward on his face as Smith's hand retreated with it.
"Oh, you poor thing," he mocked, voice laced with false pity, "You're acting so defensive to protect your old wound."
The largest piece of his patch was removed first before Smith started on the one above his eye. It was always uncomfortable just above his eyelid, but Smith spared little care as he ripped it off like a band-aid. The sting of it made Levi flinch and he had to blink to shake the tingling off.
"There. Do you feel better now? Maybe we can get past the animosity and talk face to face."
"Stop talking to me like a fucking dog."
Levi tried to maintain the venom in his tone but found himself forcing it through the new feeling of vulnerability that shot through him. Only a handful of people had ever seen Levi's bare face and this stranger—enemy—was quite literally peeling the layers back in his defenselessness.
Smith had the nerve to sound exasperated. "Levi, you're giving me mixed signals. You don't want to listen to what I have to say like a civilized guest and insist on throwing accusations around haphazardly with no real basis. This tells me that you're acting loyal to the man that treats you like a filthy mongrel, so I just thought you were accustomed to that degradation and preferred it."
"That's a load of horseshit and you know it."
"Hmm… do I?" Smith's voice was airy with false innocence.
Levi growled again.
"Is Nicholas a good master, Levi?"
"…"
"Does he treat you kindly?"
When Levi still didn't answer, Mike lifted his head roughly by his hair while keeping weight on his arm that was pinned to the middle of his back. The awkward angle of him sitting with one arm tied to the arm rest and the rest of his upper body shoved forward made the strain in his neck almost unbearable.
"Answer him!" Mike demanded.
When Levi refused, leaving another stretch of emptiness to fill the room, Mike slammed his face back on the table. Smith only watched with fascination. His damn sea blue eyes picking Levi apart every second they sat there.
"If it's not loyalty, why serve him and not listen to what we have to offer you? I can guarantee working for the Scouts would be in your best interest."
Levi's head felt like it was under a jackhammer. Dizziness and nausea rolled in his stomach, creating a terrible mixture that battled the pounding pain across his temple. It was becoming difficult to listen to Smith speak through the blood throbbing in his ears.
"Well, if you don't want to indulge me, I'll admit to what I do know…You see, I'm aware of your relationship to Nicholas involving your companions to some extent, or else the thug from Mitras wouldn't have had a reason to keep tabs on them. Care to enlighten me on the details, Levi? It may be the middle ground we need to come to an agreement."
Swallowing the metallic saliva, Levi remained pliant under the heavy hands of the brute. Struggling wasn't getting him anywhere except amusing the cunning bastard in front of him, and if he was truthful, he felt like his strength was leaving him. Regardless, Levi knew how to play games too. If there was one thing he had learned early on, it was how to spot predators. The ones that could manipulate and twist others for their gain or entertainment. It was tricky to get them on their heels, but Levi was adaptable, if not apathic to their games.
Across from him was a man prodding and tempering the waters that Levi presented, trying to gleam any knowledge of his tics and find that rare, frayed thread which was his weakness.
Levi wouldn't show it to him. He wouldn't give anything away that would let Smith find that tattered edge and pull to see him come apart.
So, he lay there. Unmoving, unspeaking. Focused on breathing and morphing pain to anger, anger to acceptance, and acceptance into detachment. Let them torture him. He wouldn't give them further reaction to fuel their amusement. He refused to acknowledge that Erwin mentioned his friends and looked to use them as a means for a deal.
Smith must have sensed the change because a frown started to twist unpleasantly across his lips. Even as he tilted his head to dip into Levi's line of sight, nothing. When Levi didn't meet his gaze, instead, looking at the wall, Smith tempted a reaction by reaching a hand to his face once more.
Aside from the slightest narrowing of his eyes and the twich in the corner of his mouth, he didn't move. Levi tried to block out the cool, smooth fingertips that brushed his fringe from his face to better see the scar. Tracing from his eye to his lips, Smith stopped just before his mouth, not wanting to tempt Levi into sinking his teeth into his hand.
Smart man.
"You must be exhausted."
The finger softly traced back to the dark circles under his eye with a gentleness that internally unsettled Levi.
"It can't be doing anything for your mood. No wonder you're in a sour temperament."
Hand retreating from his face, Levi heard the grinding of the chair sliding out as Smith stood.
"We'll table this discussion until you've had some time to cool off. Unfortunately, comfort can not be allotted for you yet until we can form some line of trust between us. I'm sure you can understand… Mike will secure your hand and we'll let you have some time to yourself to adjust."
After securing the muted hitman, Erwin refrained from looking back as he exited from the room. Ensuring it was locked, he turned away and started down the hall, not meeting Mike's pointed stare. He already knew what his long-time friend had ready to release on the tip of his tongue and wasn't going to actively urge the words to existence. It was quiet between them as they passed some empty and a couple inhabited rooms used as living spaces for the team.
Walking up the stairs to the main warehouse level, Erwin led the way through the door where the bay for large equipment and vehicles were stored and the makeshift living room was. A couple of the members of the Scouts occupied the couch with the television on, likely not wanting to be in their rooms if relations deteriorated between their boss and captive. Upon their entrance into the warehouse, three pairs of eyes landed on them.
"Oh, Erwin! How did it go? Did he agree to help?" Hange inquired with eyes wide behind rimmed glasses. Their smile was hopeful as they spun around on the couch and rested their arms on the back and knees on the cushion.
"No," came Erwin's curt reply. "We'll discuss it more later. Please make sure someone switches out with Floch in the security room."
He didn't meet their gazes as he turned to the next stairs leading to the second floor, but he could feel them locked on his back. The muffled murmurs of his team barely reached him as he opened the door to the next hallway. Pushing it open behind him so Mike could catch it as he trailed after, he made a direct line toward the comfort of his office. A glass of scotch sounded appealing right about now.
Once the door to the hallway was shut, Mike's impatience had finally snapped from censoring what was on his mind, not even bothering to wait until they were in the confines of Erwin's office.
"I told you that you're wasting your time on him," Mike grumbled. His statement lacked any smugness that usually accompanied "I told you so's", sounding more exhausted than anything. "Plus, humiliating him is just giving him more reason to fight against us."
And of course, Mike would bring that up.
"I'll admit," Erwin conceded reluctantly as he opened the door to his office and flicked the light on, "it was not how I intended that to go. I acted on emotions when I should've predicted his insolence and not responded."
"It's not like it really matters. We know where the artifact is, we don't need him."
Erwin withheld an impatient sigh as he draped his jacket on the back of his chair and rolled up his sleeves to his forearms. Walking to his side table against the wall, he poured two glasses of scotch from his decanter, handing one to his friend who stood at the other end of the desk. Taking a sip of the bitter amber, Erwin used the time to gather his thoughts on the unresolved matter downstairs.
Mike was valid in his argument. They didn't need Levi to retrieve the shield, but that wasn't why Erwin had Levi there to begin with. After meeting with the Mitras thug running his corners, Erwin's initial plan to track down the thief, and by extension the shield, was abruptly sidelined.
While being introduced by the hitman's level of invisibility firsthand, Erwin was surprised to learn that it extended to the members of Mitras. While the lower rung thugs trailed and reported on the two companions, no one but the organization's officers dealt with Levi. He never started at the bottom and worked his way up, rather he was initiated directly to Nicholas' side. Only answering to Nicholas. The officers didn't even have power or authority over the hitman.
Levi was an anomaly to normal practices.
Upon hearing that, Erwin couldn't keep the strange surge of envy that rose up on that dark street corner. As if Nicholas had found a rare gem and knew something Erwin didn't about it, making sure to keep it close and under constant surveillance.
Erwin was a selfish man. His ambitions relied on him holding the upper hand and any advantage he could over his opponents, regardless of the job. Paradis was a personal aspiration, and as such, it only made his desire stronger for that strategic advantage. Erwin was suddenly inclined to assert his presence over the mafia leader.
Nicholas had stolen the shield from under him, a discrepancy few ever had the privilege of succeeding in. Erwin wanted it back and, in exchange, to rob Nicholas of his greatest weapon. A tactic to cripple the organization from interfering further as well as from sending the ghost to hunt them down. Yet, on a personal level there was the appeal of having such a talent under his own hand.
While it was obvious to Mike that Erwin only wanted the best talents on his team, integrating a mafia assassin was not something that their organization had a role for. They could agree on that. But Erwin had an intrinsic desire for the man to work for him, to have the aptitude and the ability to point Levi in the direction he needed and trust the job to get done. Mike was the only one he fully trusted for such jobs. Floch was still too green, and the others had their own specialties that didn't contribute as strongly to the success of an assignment in the field.
But even so, Mike had struggled in fighting the hitman in both instances they met, and Erwin was able to witness it firsthand. A true David and Goliath in the middle of an estate woods with the back-up knocked unconscious against a tree. He recalled watching the shorter man gaining the advantage with cold reluctance as he aimed the barrel at his friend. No smugness, no joy, or wild savagery. He was in complete control of himself and the situation, and Erwin's mind quickly formed instances where that power belonged to him. Where he could aim that talent toward his goals just as easily as the man aimed the pistol.
"Erwin," Mike's voice brought him back from his musings.
Turning away from the window that overlooked the old train tracks, he faced his friend.
"Erwin, we don't need him."
Mike was right. They didn't need him.
But Erwin wanted him.
"There's something to be said about his skills," Erwin commented as-matter-of-factly, settling himself into his chair and looking at Mike. "A talent like that could serve the Scouts well in future assignments."
Mike's scowl was expected, especially as this was the same unfinished argument they were in downstairs before realizing that Levi had awakened.
"What are you talking about? He's an assassin, nothing more than a gun for the Russians. So, what if he's good? The Scouts don't deal in hits."
"I think he's proven that he's capable of more than just pulling a trigger to eliminate Mafia nuisances," Erwin snorted.
"Nuisances? For all we know, he could be killing innocent people who looked at Nicholas the wrong way in the grocery store."
Perhaps Mike made a good point and Erwin was being unrealistically optimistic in thinking the hitman had moral boundaries. Maybe he was just choosing to be naïve to justify his reasons for wanting the gunman in his Scouts.
"That's something we will address and determine later. Let him cool down and get settled in, then we'll make another attempt."
"Cool down… Yeah," Mike scoffed sarcastically. "It probably wasn't the best idea to provoke an assassin of the Russian Mafia."
Erwin refrained from grimacing at Mike's second reminder, bunching his jaw muscles instead. After Levi's insistent goading about Erwin's father, he admittedly let his emotions take over as he degraded the man into submission… Well, submission was the wrong word. More like faux resignation. Even that seemed incorrect. Maybe it was closer to being steeled for something he didn't think he would be able to stop.
"You're right, it shouldn't have happened to begin with. I hadn't intended on losing my composure like that."
Still, Erwin couldn't help the strange concoction of feelings between satisfaction and remorse that refused to mix, similar to oil and water. Especially when the dark-haired man had snapped his mouth shut upon realizing he overstepped, and how he remained yielding under his hand. But Erwin wasn't foolish to think the man had turned docile from such treatment. More like a cornered predator waiting for a boundary to be crossed before lashing a fatal blow.
"Well, the dwarf had it coming, Erwin. Shouldn't have taunted his captors like an idiot." Mike looked longingly at the whisky in his hand, then tossed it back in one go. Setting the glass on the desk, he sunk into the plush chair across from Erwin. "Sorry about that, man. Him bringing your dad into it was pretty low."
"I brought him up," Erwin corrected, "Levi just saw an opportunity to use him against me."
"He's a vile little thing," Mike scowled, troubled by the hitman.
Despite himself, Erwin allowed a fleeting smile.
While Mike had the most animosity toward Levi, he was being a good wingman in supporting Erwin's objectives with the hitman, even if he argued the entire time. Although, that was likely due to recognizing how futile it was to attempt to dissuading Erwin. Not only because he would do what he wanted anyway by the drive of his ambition, but because at the end of the day, Erwin was in charge.
"Are you sure you don't mind staying in your room?" Erwin queried. "Nanaba isn't worried sleeping two doors down from him?"
Mike scratched his chin. "Frankly, I don't care for him being in the building at all but if he is, I'd rather be close by if he does do something. You know Nana. Not a lot bothers her."
The corner of Erwin's lips tilted a little more. "If either of you change your mind, we can change his arrangements. I won't make the team uncomfortable over something like proximity."
"What are you planning with him, Erwin? And don't say you want to recruit him. I know it's more than that. We've met other opponents that were talented, and you didn't spare them a second glance. Hell, remember that guy in Barcelona? I had two fractured ribs and you a sprained wrist. So, why him?"
"If you recall, that guy was a 3rd Dan black belt in Judo, and we were cocky thinking we could take him together—"
"Which we did."
"But not without injury," Erwin smirked over his glass before taking a healthy swig. "And Levi clearly didn't limit himself to specializing in a single fighting style."
"Sure, by that logic…" Mike held up one finger, "He's skilled in offing people," then lifted a second, "and leaping off buildings."
"He's bested you. Twice."
"And you bested him—and don't tell me that sneaking up on him doesn't count. You're better at mixed martial arts and ground fighting than me. You'd probably have had him subdued in half the time."
"Now you're exaggerating. My skills aren't that much better than yours."
"They are. You're just being modest… or stubborn."
It was a little bit of both, but after seeing the hitman's speed and agility firsthand, Erwin wasn't so confident that he would've walked away unscathed if he had engaged Levi instead of sneaking up on him. For all he knew, it could've been himself staring down the business end of the barrel like Mike.
"As I was saying," Erwin started again, changing the subject, "Levi is more adaptable than he seems. As was confirmed by the thug we cornered that said Nicholas used Levi for the highest valued assignments."
"The guy also said Nicholas put him on jobs that his other guys didn't have the stomach for. If the officers of the Russian Mafia couldn't keep their lunches down, what's that say about him?"
Mike's logical line of thoughts sure were being problematic to Erwin's objectives. But they were still valid concerns that needed to be addressed, both as a leader and a friend. While the others were not entirely aware of the full situation regarding their guest downstairs, they would have similar worries he'd need to answer to reassure them.
"I'm not justifying Levi, just as I'm not assuming everything will be a smooth transition if he agrees. What I'm saying is that we would redirect his skills to better fit our assignments' needs. As far as we know, he did what was expected by his boss, not going out of his way to do it on his own volition. Not to mention, the thug could've been passing us mere rumors."
Mike looked unimpressed. "You don't seriously believe that."
"Not entirely. But I have my assumptions on what is true. The only way to know for sure is from the source."
"Who has walled himself off."
"For now."
At this, Mike released a mischievous grin, "You planning on making him crack?"
Erwin regarded his friend and tilted his head. "You'd enjoy that, wouldn't you?"
Mike shrugged. "Sure, I may find some satisfaction in it."
Erwin found it amusing that Mike's grudge against the guy was so personal. As a pause filled the space, Erwin reflected on the man downstairs and mulled over his first impressions.
Upon seeing Levi for the first time in the shrouded woods, the darkness didn't do his looks any justice. Under the florescent lights, when the hood was yanked off, the hitman squinted until his eyes adjusted and he glanced around the foreign room. But it was when his eyes finally slid to meet Erwin's that he had to put effort into maintaining his professional composure.
Levi stood shorter than himself and that was reflected as they sat across from one another. The pair of striking steel eyes peered from under onyx fringe that was styled with a neat undercut tapering at his nape. His thin brows and cut lips pinned him with a natural stoicism, reminding him of stone.
As their discussion progressed, the blank observations warmed a few degrees when the topic turned to his companions. But not in a cozy, heartening way. It was as if someone had stoked the wood in the fireplace too much and the air blistered across their face, warning of the intensity of the fire within. An unspoken warning.
Fast forward a bit and his thoughts turned to when Mike shoved the man across the table while Erwin exposed the scar beneath the patch, the fire morphed as Levi grew defensive. Malice lurked beneath the pools of mercury and Erwin swore he could smell the death that clung to him from the man's glare.
Then, just as suddenly as the civility deteriorated, Levi went completely still. It took a couple seconds longer than Erwin wanted to admit, realizing Levi had mentally disappeared, no longer present in the room with them. At first, it rankled Erwin who found it disrespectful (not that he was acting chivalrous in the moment), but he realized, belatedly, that it was a defense mechanism. A learned response to trauma and that truly intrigued him.
The level of control that such an asset would be for the Scouts was blatant. Just thinking of the assignments that could be accomplished with someone so versatile in his ranks…
"Well, rest assured that I'll get an answer," Erwin consoled Mike, bringing the glass up for another sip.
"And… what if he still says no?"
The glass paused just before he could touch his lips to the rim.
Clearly, Levi was the edge Erwin needed to regain the ground he lost against the others who were after Paradis' location. It was no longer a matter of interest that drew Erwin to pursue enlisting Levi, but a need to further his goals. Failure was not an option.
The smile morphed with preening callousness. A look that only appeared when the man had a plan that assured his victory.
"He won't be able to."
There was a deep thrum that seemed to vibrate through the walls, easing Levi back to consciousness at a concerning pace. He knew that even though the disturbance wasn't significant, his habit of being a light sleeper should've had him bolting awake.
By the time the groggy haze lifted enough to take stock of his surroundings, whatever caused the cannonade noise had already begun tapering off.
What was that? A lorry? No, it was too drawn out for a semi-truck. Was he in a building close to the tracks in London where the Tube was? It could have been a train going by. Did their compound even reside in London?
Like casting a net in the ocean, a new set of problems spread over his scattered thoughts.
Smith said Levi was out long enough to get him there. It was roughly 12 hours since he was knocked out to when he first woke up, however, that didn't mean he was 12 hours away from London. There was no way. It only made sense that Smith was just being vague to throw Levi off. That's what it was. But did that mean Levi was in London or was he in another city or town?
"Shit," he muttered, mouth completely parched. The pounding in his head was still there yet significantly lessened since he was last awake. His right eye, on the other hand, felt severely irritated and dry.
The room he was in supplied no windows or clock; no way to measure time. The lights were still on, and nothing had changed since his captors left that he could tell.
Taking a deep breath, he tried to use the time to go over what he knew and what to expect from there. If he had to guess, it was sometime in the afternoon or evening depending on how long he was asleep. The fog from whatever drugs they used seemed to have dissipated, leaving him with the lingering pain from the fight and his position in the chair.
Shifting to ease the ache in his back and legs, he was annoyed that they left him strapped down. The clear sound of the door locking upon their departure was a solid deterrent to keeping him in place and even he didn't see any other route for escape. The ceiling was a solid slab of concrete, meaning he had to be underground, and the ventilation that was there was too small for him to squeeze through. There was no way out unless they expected him to perform some Houdini act.
He was good, but not that good.
His best bet was to rely on human error. Wait for one of them to make a mistake. Although, with Smith being so cautious, that may be a while.
Sighing, Levi blinked a few times, hoping the motion would ease the irritation from his eye. He really needed to find a way to get his contact out or continue to risk infection. And then there was the issue of his throat, which he didn't even want to think about, knowing the grime that likely caked his skin. At least, the bandage was no longer covering it, allowing the laceration to air out.
Before he could come up with a plan to get his cosmetic lens out, the sound of footsteps from outside the door alerted him to the unwanted visitors. He didn't know what to expect with the next meeting, whether they were going to try for conversation again or if they would just jump to physical encouragement. While he didn't have direct experience in traditional torture being inflicted, he'd like to think that the punishments and lessons from Lovof were enough to prepare him mentally for any harm Smith had in mind.
Across the room, Levi watched as the door unlocked and opened to reveal a familiar head of blond. But instead of Smith entering, it was Mike.
Of course, it'd be the lamppost…
With the typical glower in place, the man approached him with purposeful strides, and he couldn't help but wonder if Mike always had a chip on his shoulder or if Levi just brought it out of him. He hoped it was a reaction saved just for Levi. He found it amusing being the cause of Mike's headaches.
Without a word, the man started to check Levi's zip-ties, making sure they were intact, and he was still firmly secure. Levi didn't bother meeting his gaze or moving, choosing to not even acknowledge him.
Deciding to remain as detached as possible seemed the best approach to the situation, particularly if Smith wasn't going to be gracing him with his presence. Anyone else that showed up was nothing more than potential avenues for his escape. Or would be once he was free from the chair.
"Alright, Nan. You can come in," Mike called out from behind Levi. Then, in a lower voice, directly beside his ear, he gave a hushed warning, "Don't fucking try anything."
Well… that just made Levi want to do something even more just to spite the bastard.
The door opened again to a softer presence than what Mike offered, though with equally short honey hair. The pleasant woman entered with a bag in hand that Levi assumed were tools for torture.
What sick freaks, he thought when he assumed the kind looking woman would be the one dealing the injuries to him. Yet, after she shifted her weight to the side, he realized that the bag was only a first aid kit.
"Hello," she greeted cordially, shutting the door behind her. "Your name is Levi, right? I'm Nanaba and I'll be taking a look at your injuries tonight."
"You don't need to talk to him," Mike reminded sharply. "Just do the bare minimum for his injuries and then we can go."
The blonde woman, Nanaba, looked unmoved as she set the bag down on the far end of the table. "I'm just being polite, so he knows what I'm doing. It's called having bed-side manners."
"You're just wasting it on him. Don't bother."
A beat passed as the two of them shared a look over the top of his head, which Levi figured was a secret argument brewing. The room was filled with an awkward tension, and it took effort to not roll his eyes as their unprofessionalism. Distractedly, Levi wondered what sort of organization Smith was running if his people were having a silent spat in front of their prisoner and he couldn't help the uncomfortable inkling that he was sitting there as a third wheel.
Finally, after whatever conclusion was made from the unspoken debate, Nanaba slid her attention to Levi to evaluate her restrained patient. He didn't have to meet her gaze to know her eyes were tracing the coarse line of scar tissue down his face or evaluating the scabbed incision across his throat.
Slipping into disposable gloves and opening a sterilized packet of gauze (thank God she was hygienic), she pulled out a container of hydrogen peroxide and focused in on treating his neck.
"I'm going to clean it off and then I'll make sure it's properly disinfected. I have some ointment that'll help, too."
Leaning in front of him with the soaked gauze, she hesitated and met his gaze, as if asking for confirmation to continue. But Levi merely stared back, bored. Taking that as the closest thing to consent, Nanaba started to wipe down his neck with a confident weight in her hand that hinted to her experience in the field.
She must be a nurse or something in healthcare, he mused.
While he was inclined to mess with Mike just to put him further on edge, Levi had no desire to target the woman tending to his injuries. For all he knew, she was only the medic for their team and not directly linked to his situation. Not to mention the woman challenging Mike was enough to stoke a modicum of respect for her, even if she was in league with the Scouts.
"This is an older wound…," Nanaba's eyes met Levi's, concern creasing her brows. After a second passed, she put the last of the iodine-stained cotton ball on the table behind her and pulled out a tube of cream to apply. "Can I ask what caused it?"
She was either very curious or naïve. Did she really expect him to chat with her like they were friendly acquaintances? Perhaps, it was a trait that people in the medical field shared, seeing as the boldness to ask pointed questions fell in line with something Isabel would do.
Instead of granting her a response, Levi looked off to the door behind her, not willing to indulge her inquiry. Only three people knew what he went through that night in the club, and that was two people too many in his opinion.
"Ok," she conceded, moving on. "If you're alright with it, I'm going to clean your face next and see if there's any cuts."
"There's nothing serious on his face," Mike interjected, before mocking. "Well, nothing except for the obvious, but it's too late for you to worry about that one."
Levi's gaze tightened before he could school his reaction, anger stemming from humiliation with the jab at his scar. However, before he could spit out a well-placed insult about Mike's own face, Nanaba shot the man an exasperated look.
"Don't be inconsiderate."
"Seriously, Nan? Don't take his side. He probably got it when he was trying to kill someone."
Levi's eyes narrowed further, finding Mike's comment to be insulting. Try implied that there was room for failure. Levi didn't try anything. The guy was irrevocably dead. Although there was something to be said about how the man died, Levi stubbornly would take the credit.
Either way, the winning point to the couple's debate went to Mike as Nanaba kept any counter response to herself.
Nanaba shuffled around the back of the chair and normally Levi would have tensed, however he found himself sitting patiently as she examined his scalp. A displeased rush of air left her and she reached around to grab what she needed to treat him. After cleaning the head wound, which was rather superficial despite the amount of blood, she returned to Levi's line of sight beside the table, where she opened a fresh packet of gauze and set out a flashlight.
"What are you doing now?" Mike scowled from behind Levi.
"I'm cleaning his face and going to check for a concussion."
"He's fine. Erwin only wanted you to check the significant injuries."
"Mike, let me do my job. A concussion is a significant injury."
Mike stayed silent.
Point to Nanaba.
After quickly cleaning any flaking blood from his face, she pulled the small flashlight to eye level.
"Have you had nausea, headache, and/or drowsiness?" Her fingers instantly found themselves against his temple and, at the baseless contact, his spine turned rigid.
Her touch was gentle now, no longer clinical or methodical, yet it made his stomach lurch in uneased anticipation. It felt so wrong and foreign that it took a firm reminder that he needed his injuries cleaned to keep from pulling away.
Tentatively, while bracing himself from the unwanted contact, Levi merely gave a short, single nod to her question.
"Slurred speech? Decrease balance?"
Levi didn't shake his head, only remained frozen. Taking that as an answer, she removed one hand to bring up the flashlight.
"Ok, I'm going to check your sensitivity to light to make sure it isn't a higher-grade concussion."
With no more warning, she brought it to his left eye and watched as the pupil retracted. Pleased, she moved to the other side and Levi knew what was about to happen.
He tugged his head from her grasp, the motion suddenly throwing Mike on edge and startling Nanaba. He felt a large hand wrap around the back of his neck warningly, and Nanaba was quick to lean back to put space between them. Indifferent to their reactions, Levi didn't make any further move, avoiding her confused expression while staring at the wall.
Realizing that he wasn't going to do anything else and was only moving his head away, Nanaba carefully composed herself and explained, "I'll need to check both eyes to make sure."
Instinct and logic warred within Levi like a pendulum swinging while he refused to meet her gaze, no longer interested in playing her patient. Internally, he debated on letting her know about his contact, if only so she could get it out. He… "trusted" her much more than Mike or Smith but revealing his handicap in front of his enemies went against every fiber of his being. He loathed the idea of them knowing and using it to exploit his right side because he knew how much slower he was to defend it.
But the other, logical side of his brain warned that it was idiotic to not let her know. That leaving the contact in would cause an infection in his eye which was worse than Mike or Smith knowing. It wasn't like he had some grand plan to escape. He didn't even know where he was at or how long they planned to keep him there, especially when he had no intention of cooperating. If he wanted to escape, he needed to be rested and healthy.
Maybe, them knowing he was half blind would cause them to drop their guard easier.
"He's done," Mike concluded for the two of them, breaking the tension in the room.
Sighing, Nanaba didn't argue as she shoved the soiled materials into a plastic trash bag followed by her gloves. As Nanaba was escorted to the door by Mike, Levi worked his throat to get some moisture in his mouth, realizing his window of opportunity was closing fast.
He needed to make a decision.
"Wait," he rasped, swallowing again to try to get saliva to coat his sore throat.
Both turned to face him and Nanaba even took a step closer before Mike's hand landed on her shoulder protectively.
Levi didn't know what to say. The words admitting his weakness were impossible to mold into subsistence, lodging behind his molars and digging in. The only thing he could manage past his lips was a mumbled, "…my eye."
Confused, Nanaba and Mike exchanged a look before they moved to stand on the other side of the table. Levi found it surprising that Mike didn't object this time but was even the first to move back to Levi. He wasn't sure if Mike was about to mock him because of the knowledge he was about to receive or if it was curiosity that led him to stand in front of him. Either way, Levi wasn't interested in finding out, choosing to stare at a spot of spilt iodine on the table, not meeting their gaze.
"What about your eye?" Nanaba implored delicately. It wasn't pity that laced her question, but a hesitancy as if she could offend him at any moment. "Did you want me to check it?"
Taking a deep breath, Levi gathered all his nerves.
Fucking suck it up, Ackerman.
Releasing the air in a sigh, that seemed impatient rather than nervous, he looked to his captors.
Fucking ridiculous.
All of this was Lovof's fault. Him and his stupid assignments for stupid old relics.
Holding onto that frustration and swallowing the last morsal of what remained of his pride, Levi explained, "I have a contact in my right eye. It needs to come out, so it doesn't get infected."
It took only a split second for Nanaba to process what he said before she jerked her attention to Mike who already had his hands lifting into the air in defense.
"Hey, I didn't know he wore contacts."
Turning back, she approached Levi until she was in front of him. "Would you like me to get it out or do you want to do it yourself?"
Levi perked up slightly at the options but made sure to hide it behind an annoyed scowl. If he could get the zip-ties off him, that'd be a step in the right direction.
"I'll do it myself. Just need something to put it in," he proposed flatly.
Mike didn't seem to care about Levi's decision, which was confirmed when the anticipated argument never came. Instead, Nanaba nodded and looked at Mike, placing a hand on his arm. The motion told Levi they were more familiar with each other than he originally predicted.
"I can bring something down that he can store it in," she offered.
Mike merely gave a nod which she smiled at.
"Alright, I'll be back then." With that she left the room with her bag, leaving Mike and Levi alone.
Exasperated, Levi dragged his gaze to Mike, feeling any smidge of hope for improving his situation diminish. The shaggy man stared at him skeptically with arms crossed and Levi wondered just what the man was thinking.
"Are you going to let me take it out?" he asserted, realizing too late the tone may have been too demanding to convince Mike.
The man stared at him for a moment longer before his arms unfolded, and he walked to the door. Levi's brows knitted together, and he was about to throw an insult at the man's back when he returned a second later with a bottle of water in hand, pillow, folded blanket, and a granola bar.
Blinking, Levi's glare lessened in intensity, but he was still mistrustful of the new development.
"Here," Mike set the items on the table and pulled a knife out to cut his right hand free. "Do what you need to and eat."
He spun around and went back to the door, propping it open as he dragged in a folded cot.
Ah, so torture isn't an option today.
Perhaps this was all part of a Good Cop routine to see if they could sweeten Levi up to cooperate. Give him food, water, medical care, and a cot to sleep on. Amenities to appeal to his reasonable side in hopes of earning his trust or appreciation.
Well, tough shit. Levi had no intentions of giving in because they decided to play nice for a bit.
Grabbing the water bottle, no longer caring if it was drugged, he braced it between his thighs and unscrewed the cap. Setting it on the table, he poured a few drops of water in it and begrudgingly removed his contact, trying not to think of his unwashed hand. It proved difficult to remove the contact without a mirror, not being able to see where his finger was in relation to his pupil. It was similar to navigating a dark room in hopes of not bumping into the furniture, but he somehow managed it. Dropping the cosmetic lens in the cap, he turned his focus to the water bottle where he chugged half of it in one go.
Mike worked along the wall by setting the cot up, still keeping an eye on Levi, while the hitman kept his focus on getting the food and water down.
He wanted a shower, and to just get out of his filthy, stained clothes. But despite how he loathed Smith's attempt to sugar Levi up, he couldn't find the energy to complain after having his injuries cleaned. That alone was a significant improvement in his situation and the nagging concern of infection had finally fallen silent.
By the time Mike finished, he came over to Levi but instantly faltered when Levi's gaze begrudgingly lifted to meet his. The silver iris of one was a stark contrast to the milky counterpart.
"Shit," Mike muttered before realizing he said it out loud.
There was an unexpected look of apology—so foreign to Levi that it made him swallow any biting insult he had to defend himself. Mike looked uncomfortable for a moment, shifting his weight, then seemed to remember what it was that he was doing.
He retrieved his knife and set to cutting the last of the bindings, then placed the knife back in his pocket. Gathering the trash from the other side of the table, so as to keep half his attention on Levi, he refused to meet his eyes until his hand hesitated over the water cap.
"I can take this to Nanaba so she can store it."
Was he asking or telling Levi? He wasn't entirely sure but offered a nod. Mike took the cap and risked a glance to meet Levi's gaze again. There was a moment of observation and then Mike recovered from his stupor.
"If you need to use the restroom, knock on the door and someone will be by. You'd be smart to not try anything. Erwin will meet with you later." And with that he disappeared out the room, locking the door and letting Levi have a semblance of freedom in his concrete enclosure.
Time passed slowly. Or perhaps it was quick. Levi wasn't certain.
Nanaba had mentioned nighttime in her introduction so it may have been only an hour when someone opened the door and slid a tray of food inside on the floor. A paper bowl of oatmeal, plastic spoon, and a bottle of water.
The presentation hit a little too close to something you'd feed a caged animal, and, out of spite, Levi refused to eat it. The bottle of water, on the other hand, he was more than happy to accept.
There was a long, empty silence that came and went. Occasionally, he'd hear a door down the hall shut or people talking, but nothing gave him a clear understanding of his situation. The length of time spent in the bright room offered him the certainty that no one would come barging in for the next couple of minutes, so he took the opportunity to search the sparse room.
Aside from the two chairs, table, an empty trash bin, and cot, it was completely empty. Even the walls were solid and smooth, not having a single wall outlet available. If they used the room as a holding cell, which seemed rather apparent in his situation, he expected an outlet at least. Perhaps, they were concerned with someone using the wires or screws for something.
Either way, Levi wasn't looking for wires, he was looking for something sharp. Anything jagged or pointed. Two times he circled to room and aside from trying to dismantle the furniture with lack of tools and bare hands, he was out of luck.
Another skip of time, shorter than the first, and the door opened to an unfamiliar face. A man around his age and shorter than the three people Levi had met prior peered around the door at him as he sat on the cot with his back to the wall and knees bent. With soft eyes, supple expression of concern, the stranger's attention shifted from Levi to the bowl of food at his feet and back again.
"Are you not hungry?" he asked, hand reaching to scratch as his head of caramel hair. The motion seemed riddled with nervous energy rather than to quell an itch, making Levi wonder if the man was uncertain how to deal with the prisoner.
Just how many people were in the building and what had Smith told them about Levi?
Keeping with his tactics so far, he said nothing, only stared at the man until he submitted to the glare and disappeared, taking the uneaten food with him.
Sighing, Levi laid across his cot, wondering if he should try to get some sleep or wait to see if anyone else showed up. Mike had mentioned Smith coming but when that would be was not disclosed. In the next 15 minutes, or the next day. Who was Levi to know?
Staring at the ceiling, his brows pinched at the annoying brightness. He'd already checked for a light switch in the room and quickly came to the conclusion that it was controlled from the outside. Maybe even in the security room if the camera hinted at anything. That was going to be its own torment if they kept him under constant fluorescent bulbs with no measure of time and utter boredom as company.
After a while of just lying on the cot, Levi began to drift off. Even having slept more frequently than normal, sleep was coming to him easier than his normal insomniac habits allowed. Even though a part of him wanted to resist, knowing it left him vulnerable if someone did come for him, he recognized the odds of it happening were slim. They were trying to get into his good graces and barging in while he slept to inflict harm was not the way to go about it. Plus, it helped that he was unrestrained and knew he could retaliate if he needed to defend himself.
The cot wasn't terribly uncomfortable, and the blanket smelt clean. It was enough for Levi to let his eyes shut and allow his thoughts to lull to a crawling pace. If anything, it passed the time and beat the boredom.
He had just about drifted into slumber when the speaker installed in the camera belched out an unpleasant noise that sent his soul jolting from his body. It took a second for Levi to distinguish his racing heart from the thumping sound bouncing off the walls of the room for him to realize the noise was a song playing. The music was a horrid racket that he recognized as some sort of Russian techno crap that he'd heard at the warehouse occasionally or the club.
"…What the shit?" he murmured under his breath.
Completely confused, and frankly pissed, he made a feeble attempt to block it out by folding his pillow over his ear and digging his face in the cot.
What was happening? Was this some new form of torture?
Gritting his teeth, his attention landed on the chair across from him, tempting him the longer the noise went on. It was just when he was deciding that he'd throw the chair at the camera, the door, or the walls until it shut off, that the music came to a sudden halt.
Blinking, he risked removing the pillow from his head as a new voice replaced the racket, though it was equally loud and obnoxious.
"Heyo! I didn't know what sort of music you listened to, but it seems that wasn't something you enjoyed. Do you have any requests?"
Levi couldn't place the cheery tone to any of the previous people he had met, making him wonder, again, just how large the compound was. If he was to escape, what sort of resistance would he meet and how much prepping did he need before making an attempt. It wouldn't do him any good to find a weakness to exploit only to be met with a small army and be captured again.
Not sensing any animosity from the stranger talking to him, Levi answered sharply, "Yeah. Silence."
"Aww, that's boring. Are you sure? I made a whole Russian playlist for my shift of watching you. Do you like t.A.T.u? I have some of their music. Oh! I also have—"
"No."
There was a long, drawn-out exasperated sigh, "Alright, alright. Fine. No music."
The room fell back into silence. It seemed too easy, but Levi ignored that skeptical voice, deciding to take what he could get.
For the second time since his arrival, he wondered just what sort of place Smith was running.
After waking up, he quickly came to the conclusion that the passing of time didn't improve any. By the second attempt at offering Levi food through the half-open door, which he tenaciously ignored, frustrations were beginning to arise in his captors' demeanors. It was only more apparent the few times he was bound and escorted directly across the hall to the bathroom on occasion.
Levi, of course, found it amusing that the softer-spoken man and Mike continued to play the nice guy roles with their efforts being shoved back in their face. So much so that it became a game which distracted him from his hunger and combatted boredom. After, what he guessed was half the next day, his efforts awarded him the first real opportunity to improve his situation.
Enter the amber-haired kid from the Fritz property.
Taking on a new approach to feed the unruly assassin, the tray of food was not left on the floor by the entrance. Instead, with a confidence that Levi found entertaining—if misplaced—the young gunman marched to the table and dropped the tray down, bouncing the contents on the paper plate. With an impatient glare shooting right at Levi, the kid crossed his arms expectantly and waited.
Unperturbed by the open animosity, Levi leaned his head back against the wall from his place on the cot and stared back blankly.
The room swelled with empty silence, growing thicker as the seconds passed between them. He had to give the kid some credit for holding the stare as long as he was, especially when he didn't show surprise at Levi's exposed face. It was likely the kid had been on watch recently, evaluating Levi through the camera to not have a hesitant reaction.
Finally, unable to hide his unease from the pressure of Levi's hollow gaze, the kid looked away.
"What's wrong with you?"
Levi didn't answer, though found the question unexpected.
"The boss is showing you kindness by giving you food and medical care and you keep shoving it back in our faces. If it was up to me, the only thing you'd be eating is a bullet."
Ah, so he was offended by Levi's treatment. What exactly was being discussed amongst the Scouts about their prisoner? And was it because Levi was a captive that this kid was so pissed or because Levi had knocked him out the last time they met. Perhaps he regretted not burying a bullet in Levi when he had the chance.
"Are you trying to starve to death? Because I'll let the boss know and we can just put you out of your misery and ours," he spat, the glare burning through the small room and searing into Levi's skin.
Tsh, what a brat.
Gaze shifting to the table where the food was, he could see that the options were better than previous attempts. Fruit, a salad, and bread roll on a paper plate with a plastic fork. The pronged utensil was an improvement to the spoon and Levi's mind was already threading together possibilities with that.
Attention sliding over the fuming young man, Levi made a quick note of the pistol settled on his hip and pocketknife. Those new pieces of information gave an evolution to his plans with more finesse than the plastic fork would lend. He didn't try to get too hopeful, though as he kept telling himself that it didn't matter if he could incapacitate the guy. He wouldn't be able to get away from the ones outside the room if he ran out there without a solid plan.
Either way, there was something to be said about the potential the guy provided him with, even if it didn't lead to Levi leaving the room immediately.
Deciding to humor the brat, if only to close the distance between them, Levi slowly made his way off the cot and across the small room. Casually, the hitman settled into the chair with the table firmly separating him and the frustrated young man who eyed every movement Levi made. The man was tense, and his hand hovered over his pistol, but Levi made sure to not look at him. He didn't want to startle the brat or give him reason to retreat, rather the opposite. If he needed to soften his attitude, he would do it.
I'm no threat, he hoped his body language said as he scooted the chair in and picked up the fork with his head bowed. He wasn't going for meek, that wouldn't be believable. But exhausted and plaintive he could make work.
Despite his first instinct being to tilt his chin up and meet the kid's threats head on, he was trying to play a smarter game. One that had no place for bragging rights on who was tougher. The time would come when they would see who was tougher, but not right now.
Eating the fruit and picking at the salad worked to pass some time. He did so in no real rush yet didn't drag it out unnecessarily. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the young man continued to glare as he watched, hand still hovering over the pistol. By the time he was done picking at the fruit, Levi tried to keep a displeased frown from forming.
The brat was not dropping his guard as he expected.
"Do you have water?" he ventured quietly, still not lifting his gaze to meet the chestnut eyes that glared daggers at him.
"No. You're lucky I even brought you food."
Levi held back a sigh. It was becoming rather apparent that his attempt to urge the brat to drop his guard was not working. Then again, there were a few explanations on why that was.
Smith likely hounded his members on how dangerous Levi was and to not allow any openings. There was also the fact that the kid had experienced Levi's fighting abilities firsthand and was probably holding onto a well-earned grudge. And finally, despite Levi's small, lithe frame, he was not naturally a soft, docile person. The jagged scar and white-washed iris were a disturbing sight to most people and cut a fine edge to Levi's appearance.
Plan B then.
"I'm lucky, huh?" Levi started and scoffed under his breath. "You're practically giving me rabbit food instead of a full meal and you expect me to be grateful?"
"It's more than you deserve," the man spat quickly.
"What I deserve is some peace and quiet. In case you forgot, your boss has a high opinion of me," Levi lifted his gaze to the kid, adding a cocky smirk just to dig under the guy's skin a little more. "You should be giving me more respect, or else I may not be inclined to do what your boss wants."
The reaction was instantaneous. Lips curling up to reveal clenched teeth and glare intensifying.
"Or maybe," Levi pressed on, looking back at his plate as he used the fork to push a strawberry through the bed of lettuce, "I'll tell him the only way I'll work with him is if I'm in charge of you. Pretend that I'm willing to train you and make you a better fighter. Do you think he'll believe me? I think he will… But really, what I'll do is teach you your place."
The punch was expected after the taunts, but it still landed harder than Levi anticipated. His head jerked to the side with enough force that Levi fell out of the chair, and he felt his vertebrae in his neck pop. Blinking up at the florescent lights, a hand grabbed the front of Levi's filthy suit and lifted him off the floor a few inches before another fist collided with his face.
"You piece of shit!" the man threw another hit causing knuckles to dig into his tender cheek. Breathing hard, his hand came to join the other, curling fingers into the fabric and bringing Levi up to his face. "If you try anything to sabotage the Scouts or backstab my boss, I'll kill you myself!"
The cold silver iris stared back unmoving, breathing only slightly deeper than normal but nowhere near the seething level of the kid straddling him. After not receiving a response, the brat shoved him back into the ground and got up, taking the food with him as he slammed the door behind, not even bothering to look back at Levi still on the floor.
Swallowing and opening his jaw to ease the new ache, Levi sat up while bringing a hand to his lips. He could feel the cut had busted open, but aside from that, the worst he'd suffer was likely bruising on his cheek. The brat had a good swing though it wasn't anything to be overly impressed with. He'd been hit with far worse.
With a subtle glance at the corner of the ceiling where the camera hung, Levi made sure the table blocked most of the view as he glanced at the hand that was propped on the ground by his hip. He resisted opening it to evaluate the object, settling on finding comfort in the cool steel casing of the folded knife.
It wasn't the pistol—that'd be too obvious, and really, it wasn't necessarily. Levi's skill with a blade was significantly better than with a gun.
Bet Smith didn't know that about me, he mused, pulling himself to his feet and making his way to the cot. Stuffing his newly acquired prize under his pillow, Levi reclined across the makeshift bed and gazed at the ceiling. The ache in his jaw was well worth his reward.
Was it day three now? Or day four?
Levi paced the room, the cool aplomb he had up to that point fully evaporated as frustrations overpowered any sense of patience. Smith had yet to meet him.
In fact, aside from Mike stopping by one time after his scuffle with the brat to threaten him, he had been left alone. No more food, no water. Just the all-consuming silence, boredom, and his old companion-hunger.
I can outlast them. Being stagnant is something I'm used to between jobs. Hunger doesn't bother me.
But that trail of reassuring thoughts was snuffed out with his perseverance.
What was Smith playing at? He wanted Levi to do something for him, but wasn't interested in returning to discuss it? He said he'd wait until Levi had a chance to cool down, but that was days ago. How long did he think Levi would need?
No. The amount of time they had left Levi alone was purposeful. The food being taken away was likely a punishment, but the rest had to be a part of the plan.
But what the fuck was his plan?
Levi racked his brain, trying to put himself in Smith's position to grasp some sort of understanding, but he couldn't find a justified cause. He hardly knew anything about the man; therefore, he was at a severe disadvantage of gleaning any sort of information based on the treatment he was given.
Did he want Levi to call for him? Speak to whoever was on the other side of the camera and let them know he was ready to talk?
Fat fucking chance.
Levi would wait it out. He'd keep walking, keep laying down, keep churning out pushups and sit ups in the room to burn out the clock. Smith couldn't give him the cold shoulder forever. Not when he still was keen on keeping Levi alive for some purpose.
At the very least, he expected the brat to notice his pocketknife was missing and raise the alarm. Have the door slam open and Mike and others come barging in with guns aimed at him until they found where he hid it away at.
Levi rolled his eyes, turning from the wall and retracing his steps to the next. It would take them two whole seconds to find it under the pillow. He had nowhere else to put it aside from the trash bin by his cot.
Eventually, after growing bored of walking around the tiny room, time found Levi sitting at the table, picking at the stains on the plastic top, when the door finally swung open.
Erwin Smith.
He must have been zoning out to not even hear the footsteps or latch unlocking. To his surprise, the one occupying his thoughts appeared holding two trays of food.
Here to torture or bribe me…
Levi found Smith's gaze for a moment, and then couldn't help himself, he stared at the plates. The smell of it was filling the room now, and Levi swallowed as hunger stabbed at his gut.
Smith walked to Levi, stood in front of him as Levi leaned back in his chair, hands falling in his lap.
"Hello, Levi. Faring well?"
Levi gave a short nod, more in acknowledgement than answering the question.
He seemed to be sizing Levi up, taking in the scarred and milky-eyed appearance. Levi wondered if he looked thinner from eating only some fruit and granola bar in the last however many days. The way Smith was measuring him, it felt like he was fitting him for a suit, and Levi tried not to fidget under the examination. To distract himself, he glanced at the trays, two of them.
Both were filled with potatoes, what looked like meatloaf, and finely chopped green things. As much as Levi wanted to be stubborn and dig his heels in to resist the offering, he was desperate for it.
Finally, Smith set the trays down and took his seat. The plates were real, as was the silverware. And was Smith really going to eat with him? Levi looked up to the handsome blond, like a dog asking permission. He hated himself for it.
"Please." Smith smiled kindly, holding his utensils in hand. "Eat."
Levi didn't need to be told twice. He started to eat slowly despite how hungry he was, yet remained suspicious. Smith was the image of poise and manners as he cut the meat into a small morsel and scooped a diced cube of roasted potato with his knife. Levi tried to ignore it.
After his third bite, with the quiet being broken up by the chinks of utensils against plates, Levi swallowed his food and cleared his throat. Smith's gaze lifted to meet his and Levi couldn't help the strangeness of the situation. They were sharing a meal with no discussion. As if they were just enjoying each other's company.
It threw Levi further on the defensive-so far at this point, that he felt he was completely out of his element and spinning in a foreign atmosphere.
"What is this?" he asked, his voice thick with disuse.
"It's dinner."
"No." Levi sat up a little straighter in the chair. "You had your subordinates tossing the food in here without me being supervised. Now you're giving me a full meal and your … unpleasant company."
Smith looked amused at his description and dabbed his mouth with his napkin. "Well, I was hoping we'd be able to pick up on our discussion we had previously. I apologize if it's taken longer than anticipated, but some things had come up that I needed to tend to."
Things that were more important than an assassin in your compound?
Levi wasn't buying it. There was something Smith was hiding.
Forcing his attention on the food, he took another bite, if only to keep himself from glancing at the pillow on his cot. There was a chance he could fight his way out, especially if he managed to use the Scout's boss as a hostage. He didn't see a gun on the man when he came in, however, that didn't mean one wasn't in the back of his waistband.
As subtle as he could keep it, he tried to steal glances beneath his lashes, gauging the man's ability to fight back. Even under the decorous suits, Smith seemed like he'd be one who knew how to fight. Levi could see it in the way he evaluated him. He had the eyes of a predator, very confident, very still, very patient. And when he struck—if he struck at all—it would be fast, ugly, and damaging.
Levi was by no means overconfident in himself, but he knew his capabilities. Smith was a hard man, but not the hardest. Not even the hardest Levi had killed. Smith had a broad chest, thick muscle that hinted to natural strength, so it was clear that Levi couldn't outmuscle him. But if he could break his balance, he could put him on the ground, and once he had him there, he could stomp his throat in before he made a run for it. It wasn't that Levi was looking to kill the man out of a personal grudge, but he had to take into consider all avenues when it came to his escape. This was a contingency plan.
To use only if the need for it came.
So far, though, things teetered between them, but held.
"So, Levi. What other artifacts does Nicholas plan on having you collect?"
Oh, joy, here comes the questions…
"Wouldn't know. Haven't seen him in a week," Levi answered dryly.
"Does he not offer you an advanced notice of future assignments?"
"I get the details when he wants me to."
"Hm." Smith took another bite of food, contemplating over what Levi said. He couldn't help but appreciate the way Smith's fingers delicately wrapped around the fork and knife as if they were instruments he wielded across his plate.
"Did you determine where the tapestry was located at the Fritz estate?"
"If I did, why would I tell you?"
Smith gave a small shrug. "I'm not sure what good it would do you now. It's not like you're in a position to retrieve it."
"And whose fault is that?"
"I was thinking about modifying my deal with you," Smith persisted, ignoring Levi's retort. "If you can tell me all the locations of the other artifacts, I'll let you go back to Nicholas."
"You think I'd believe that you'd just set me free after all of this? I know your faces and Lovof won't let it slide. I'm a liability no matter which way you look at it."
Smith's mouth twitched before he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as if scouring to find the appropriate words. Levi's gaze dropped to the motion before snapping back.
"This is true, you are a liability… But, you see, what's working in your favor is that you're a valuable liability that has potential to become an asset."
A wry scoff left him as he, once again, recalled Lovof mentioning his versatility. "So, my worth outweighs the risk to you? That it?"
"Something like that."
Levi looked at him, his voice cold, "Well, sorry to kill your theory but I don't know where the tapestry is. Your man using my sister was a bigger concern to me."
"Mike had no intentions of doing anything unseemly with her, I assure you. He's got a fiancé and was against the idea from the start. Remember, we only intended to use Isabel to get to you because she was the only link. Had the thug from your organization supplied us with a different option to find you, we would've taken it."
"That doesn't make any of this look prettier to me, moron."
Smith took a deep breath through his nose as he set his silverware on the dish and moved it to the side. Lacing his fingers together in front of him, he seemed to mull something over. "Do you enjoy your job?"
Levi stopped in mid-chew briefly to glare at the blond before going back to eating, not offering a response.
"I ask because only you work for Nicolas, while your friends live their own lives. What's tying you to the Russian Mafia?"
"Good pay."
"I can offer you more."
Levi chuffed and rolled his eye. "Yeah? Benefits package too? Paid time off and retirement?"
Smith absorbed the sarcasm with little reaction. "I want to understand, Levi. Why is it that you work for him?"
"It's none of your fucking business. Why do you spend your life looking at the past instead of living in the present?"
Levi watched from beneath his brows as he waited for something; some sign of where Smith's head was at, but the man kept his thoughts hidden, his expression enigmatic.
"Because I'm searching for the truth about the part of history that the world has tried to erase. I want to learn what was so dire that made countries scared of its existence to the point that they banded together to hide it."
Levi raised a brow. "That sounds more like a conspiracy theory than scientific discovery. You believe in the Loch Ness monster too? "
Smith didn't look at Levi. Rather, his eyes remained focused on something on the tabletop. "My beliefs have been found valid with the artifacts and previous research of my father. What I'm looking for did, at one point, exists."
Levi chewed on his food while his mind rolled over the information. "I still don't see what this has to do with me. Just because I stole one rock? You already said you know where it's at. Why don't you just go get it yourself?"
Smith slowly made eye contact with Levi and held it. There was something else there, but it was staying unsaid. Levi wanted to pry the truth out of him, but thought it was best to let this one die. Smith didn't seem like a man that liked prying, if the first interaction was anything to go by.
"Are you happy working for Nicholas?"
Levi sighed, clearly exasperated by the man's persistence on the subject, but Smith was quick to continue.
"If you can look me in the eye and tell me you work for him on your own volition—that you enjoy what you do and are loyal to the man, I'll let you go. You can return to Mitras and continue where you left off with no more worries about us. But you need to be honest when you tell me that."
The intensity that Smith was pinning him with, the way his hands unlaced, and he leaned forward to stare directly at Levi, had heat rising underneath his collar. He knew he could simply lie to the man, tell him that he loves what he does and demand to be returned to his master… but that was far from the truth.
I just have a few more years left. I'm almost done with my debt.
Levi looked over Smith's shoulder at the concrete wall, "Why are you pressing the subject so much? Why do you care what my reason is to work for Lovof?"
For a moment, Smith didn't answer. His azure gaze traveled across Levi's face but unlike Mike or the others, it didn't feel like prying. As if he was evaluating the curves of his appearance and committing it to memory. It made his stomach flip as he tensed from the scrutiny.
"I have members of the Scouts that perform a lot of recons. This morning, one of my people gave me a report."
Levi stiffened. He didn't like Smith's tone. It was the sound of a man broaching the subject of bad news.
"And what was the report?"
"The word is… Nicholas Lovof's men—the same ones that you call colleagues—had found where your friends were taking shelter… I'm asking these questions because I'm trying to understand your place in Mitras and why you serve a man like that. Especially, when it seems your companions are nothing more to him than…. Collateral."
Levi suddenly didn't know what to do with his hands as his brain skipped like a scratched CD. As if he lost track of what he was doing ten seconds before Smith started to explain his questions.
Lovof found Isabel and Furlan… He found them…
"Wh-where are they now?"
Smith dipped his head. "They were taken in black SUV's to a warehouse by the Greenland Docks. I assume you're aware of the location."
Levi realized his face had formed into a harsh grimace. He tried to relax. It wasn't working.
He suddenly despised Smith for knowing what he did not. He didn't want to hear about his friends' status though the mouth of someone he barely knew and who wasn't even classified as an ally.
Take a breath. He could be lying…
Did he really believe that?
Smith didn't move much, but his hands were spread out, showing both palms. "I'm not saying that as a threat, just informing you. We're just talking right now."
Levi looked at him hard, "Then talk. Sounds like you have plenty to say."
Smith retracted his hands from the table and leaned back. "Honestly, there isn't much I can say. I take it from your reaction that Nicholas getting to your friends is not ideal. Does that mean there's no love loss there?"
"No, it's not fucking ideal," Levi grounded out, still avoiding his question as he clenched his hands when he felt a tremble begin. He was starting to teeter on that familiar fight or flight response and the thought of hiding his shaky hands under the table only told him it would delay a rection if he decided to act.
Smith smiled, fleetingly, "I guess that answers the question, doesn't it."
Even if he was lying to Levi, he couldn't take the chance of ignoring it. The fact was, that Lovof would be livid about Levi's disappearance, and he would, of course, go after his friends for answers. He had hoped that Furlan would be smart enough to find a spot that Lovof wouldn't be able to find, but again, the Russian Don had his own number of resources.
What would he do to them? Demand to know what happened? Torture them for Levi's location?
The fact that Furlan and Isabel were hiding because of Levi's warning made them look guilty, as if Levi himself planned to run away the whole time. Lovof wouldn't think Levi was captured by a third party and held against his will. Not after his last meeting with Lovof in the club or the nature of the latest assignment being a honeypot. It all looked conveniently like Levi was trying to run out and keep his friends safe. At the end of the day, Lovof had no use for them except to lure Levi back out. And that could happen any number of ways.
Not all of them required Furlan and Isabel to still be breathing.
Suddenly, he felt sick, the worry for his friends, the memories of the last meeting with the Russian, it all became too much. Sweat was beading across his temple, and he felt hot, too hot. He couldn't calm his breathing. Hell—he couldn't even get air into his lungs. Even as he sucked wind in his mouth, it seemed like it hit an invisible barrier before reaching his throat.
When did he start panting? Why was he so winded?
The lights were so bright all of a sudden and the next thing he knew, Levi was stumbling to the trashcan to throw up his food. Everything came up as a tremor wracked violently through his body.
Smith watched him with a flash of concern until Levi sat up, not turning around until he regained composure. Vomiting seemed to dislodge whatever had blocked his lungs because air was coming in thickly and started to ground him in the room. He loathed that he looked so weak right not, heaving into the trash, but it was too much. His fears were coming true, and he could not—would not lose Furlan and Isabel.
The grinding of chair legs against the tile floor followed by careful footsteps alerted him to Smith's presence behind him. A hand extended in his line of sight, offering a folded napkin as he kneeled in front of him.
Begrudgingly, Levi accepted in and wiped his mouth and nose.
"How do you know?" Levi demanded, still kneeling by the bin.
Smith didn't ask him to elaborate, seeming to know he wanted assurance that it was true. "I had one of my members watching Furlan's apartment after you called them. They trailed your friends to their new destination and have been watching it in case something like this happened."
Levi's eyes narrowed and his lips curled as a malicious threat was about to be released, but Smith quickly, and firmly interrupted with a raised hand.
"I meant what I said that we had no ill intentions with them. We only wanted to ensure their safety until the deal with you and I was resolved. I have no need to involve innocents in my affairs."
Levi could feel it like thunder in the distance—a faraway desire for violence. To take offense at Smith's excuses and to deliver something painful.
"But they are involved! Because you sent your fucking giant to use Isabel as bait and then you took me before I could finish my job! If you'd just made your own effort to steal the artifacts, it wouldn't have come to this!"
"Can you say that with certainty? Was Nicolas really that considerate of Furlan and Isabel? Judging by your warnings on the phone, I'd say not."
The growing tension on that frail balance of the teeter-totter finally snapped.
Vision turning red, Levi lunged at him, but somehow, Smith was prepared for it, knowing that his cold antagonizing would stoke such a reaction. Despite predicting it, Levi still managed to deliver a solid punch into the man's cheek just before Smith managed to grab his second fist in midair. Holding it in one hand, he grabbed Levi's collar with the other and pushed him onto his back. Smith's broad hand anchored on Levi's narrow chest, pinning him to the ground while the other shoved his arm to the side.
Levi made an attempt to use his free hand to strike at Smith by delivering an elbow to his forearm, but the man was quick to anticipate it. He pulled away from Levi's strike and then smashed his knee into Levi's ribs, shocking the air from the smaller man's diaphragm.
"Stop it!" Smith shouted, his voice stern.
Grimacing and trying to suck in air, Levi tried to push back on the stronger man, his face showing strain and anger. Above him, he could see the blond was making his calculations to counter Levi, be it physical attack, or verbal talk down. He knew that whatever he was thinking, there was a chance that it would not flatter Levi if he got the upper hand.
In the next second, Smith may have felt the smaller man's body shifting under him, but if he did, he reacted too late. Levi latched onto Smith's arm, holding it tight to his chest while he simultaneously brought both of his legs up. Quick as a bolt of lightning, he had one leg under Smith's pinning arm and the other against his neck. Smith tried to pull out of the triangle choke hold, but Levi had sprung the trap too quickly. He ratcheted his legs down tight, crossing them behind Smith's back and creating pressure on his neck.
Smith let out a gagged noise and twisted, and Levi countered by rolling on his side with him. The window for Smith getting out of the hold was closing fast, but Levi had to give him credit; he didn't try to waste time getting out of it with futile efforts. Instead, he sent a solid punch into Levi's thigh. Once, twice. Again. Levi could feel the heat from inflammation already pooling blood to the surface, knowing it would be a nasty bruise in a few hours, but his hold stayed firm as he bit through the pain.
Giving up quickly on that tactic, and with oxygen leaving his brain, Smith tucked his knees under him and raised his upper body, lifting Levi's entire being off the ground in the process.
Oh, fuck—
The assassin's back slammed into the tile floor, sharp electric pain licking up his spine. Smith gritted his teeth above Levi and sat back up. Then Levi was smashed into the ground again. The jarring was keeping the air from filling Levi's desperate lungs and white flashes from his concussion painted his vision. Smith continued to repeat the action, despite Levi doing all he could to maintain his hold until the burning in his lungs was too much to ignore. The grip around Smith's neck loosened enough for him to swim free from the hold and lean away to regain his equilibrium.
Meanwhile, Levi was already acting on his back-up plan, twisting from the hold and scrambling to his cot from the ground. His left arm punched under the pillow, fingers wrapping around the welcoming cool metal just as a constricting hold tightened around his ankle. He didn't even have a split second to register the hold when his smaller body was yanked backwards across the ground.
Twisting to face his attacker, he met with Smith hovering over him as the hold on his ankle was exchanged for pinning one of his arms to the floor by his head. But the blonde wasn't quick enough to stop Levi's practiced fingers from flicking open the pocketknife in his free hand. With a noise escaping from his throat—a mix of a grunt and a growl-Levi swung the knife across to slice into him, but before it could find a place in the man's broad chest, the blade was enveloped in a bare hand.
"Enough!" Erwin ordered, eyes holding a crystalized hardness to them, sharp as the knife that bit into his fist. Blood seeped from the tight spaces between his fingers, down the heel of his palm and stained the sleeve of his shirt. "I'm not your enemy, Levi. Stop fighting."
Levi went still, feeling his eyes were wild with fury and shock which fluctuated with the deep rise and fall of his chest. Just to test his luck, he pushed the blade further toward Smith, but the man was devastatingly reserved, not showing an inkling to the pain he was surely experiencing.
Locked onto one another's gaze, neither of them registered the door slamming open and the pounding of boots coming to stop beside them. It wasn't until the unmistakable sound of the cocking of a gun did everything else snap back into focus for Levi. Turning his head to the right, he was not surprised to see the unwavering end of a barrel pointing at his face with Mike at the other end of it.
"Release the knife or I'll paint the floor with your fucking brains," Mike demanded evenly, not even raising his voice in the slightest. He didn't need to. Levi knew he meant it.
"What's it going to be, Levi?" Smith continued, almost as if Mike wasn't even in the room.
Tugging his gaze back, Levi didn't offer a response as he tried to hold onto the wrath he felt. If he allowed his anger to ebb away, he knew remorse and fear would rise to take its spot, and he couldn't allow that. He couldn't work when his head was in that space. Couldn't be useful to his friends.
"I want you to be a part of the Scouts—to work for me. Dedicate yourself to something more than being Nicholas' dog. You're better than that and I can give you a better purpose."
The tremble was returning, and Levi hoped it was the aftereffects of the adrenaline in his body locked in place with no outlet. That sounded better than the helplessness that he was trying to shove down.
He tried to listen to Smith's proposal, tried to find the catch, the trap door, the fine print. The thing that would fall like a guillotine as soon as he agreed and locked him in a contract that he couldn't escape from.
I was so close… So close to ending it with Lovof…
But was he really? Who was to say that the Russian didn't have some other trick up his sleeve to keep Levi around? It was always a possibility, in the back of his mind, that the idea of freedom was just a dream that would forever remain just out of reach.
Was he really considering trading hands? Offering the end of his leash from one boss to another?
The strength of his arm began to wane and together, with the knife in their grasps, their hands lowered a few inches.
If Smith was pleased by the action, he didn't show it. "As a sign of good faith," he continued unwaveringly, "I'll extend all my resources to help you get your friends back from Nicholas safely. You have my word."
The promise landed against his face in a warm breath, burrowing in his pores and settling in his chest. There was a ring of truth to his claim. Something that subdued his fatalistic worries with a steadiness that encouraged confidence rather than submission. To urge hope as a currency to be exchanged between them with the promise of partnership.
Levi didn't trust Smith. But his alternatives were lacking. From where he lay, it was either join or get a skull cleaning by Mike.
"I don't want you to regret this decision, Levi. This needs to be a choice that you live with and abide by to the end. I promise you, you'll be treated fairly, and your friends will be protected." Smith seemed resolute now to put it all on the table, "I'm offering you a deal because no one wants to feel like they owe someone else. Mutual support is what you want. A fair trade."
The earnestness in Smith's eyes were suffocatingly intense, as if peeling away all of Levi's concerns like the sun pierces through the layers of clouds. Something about the sincerity sapped the last of Levi's fight from him and before he knew it, his hand released the knife and fell to the floor.
The tension in Erwin's shoulders eased and a shadow of a smile appeared briefly. Leaning back on his heels giving Levi space to move, he held out the knife toward Mike who reached down to take it. Meanwhile, Levi propped himself on his elbows, not yet decided on what to do next. Glancing to his right, he could see Mike lower the gun to his side, and there was a stranger watching the exchange through the threshold. Wild brunette hair, thick glasses and mouth opened in shock.
"Levi."
Furrowing his brows, he returned his attention to Erwin who was starting to resemble his usual charismatic image again, despite the disheveled golden hair and wrinkled shirt. It was a strange dichotomy to the extreme focus and unwavering determination he wore when fighting Levi.
"Do we have a deal? Will you promise to join the Scouts and work to uncover Paradis?"
Rising to a seated position, he leaned his back against the metal framed cot, fixing Erwin with a heavy gaze.
"Fine." Raking a hand through his hair, he released a sigh. "Help me get Izzy and Furlan back, and I'll do whatever you need me to."
Erwin gave a curt nod and stood to his feet, offering a hand to Levi.
"Then I welcome you to the Scouts."
Erwin stood in his office as he washed his hand under the adjoining bathroom sink.
In the other room, he could hear Mike lecturing Floch about letting Levi get his knife from him. The young man profusely apologized, explaining he thought he just misplaced it during laundry and didn't think Levi had swiped it from him. He was lucky the assassin didn't steal his gun and punch a few holes in his chest.
The sound of the chiding started to taper off until Floch was dismissed to find Nanaba. Despite Erwin telling Mike he was fine, his friend was not convinced his hand wouldn't need stitches. During the entire debacle, Hange filled the doorway to the bathroom with arms crossed as they watched Erwin expectantly.
They had just left Levi to settle in a room just down the hall from Erwin's personal room and office. A strategy to keep the man under some sort of watchful eye and not stray too far from him. Erwin wasn't ready to trust Levi so soon. At least not until they ensured his companions were safe. Once that was finished, they could turn their focus back to Paradis and adjusting the new team dynamics.
"Well," Hange broached when Erwin still refused to acknowledge their hovering presence. "You look like the cat that got the crème."
There was a faint shadow of satisfaction that lingered over his features since entering his office. Even with Mike fussing over what he found in the holding room, Erwin couldn't hide how pleased he was over the recent development. Of course, Hange would pick up on it. They were being unusually serious regarding the matter.
"I just survived an encounter with Mitras' top assassin, and he agreed to be employed under the Scouts. Yes, I'd say I'm very pleased." Turning off the water, he grabbed for the hand towel, regretting his choice to not grab the first aid kit before washing his hand. The wound was still bleeding and now he had a stained washcloth he needed to treat.
Hange glanced over their shoulder at Mike who met her gaze before looking away, settling into the couch as he waited for his fiancé to arrive. Hange didn't miss the way Mike looked sheepish under their gaze, which they chalked up to embarrassment. It was no wonder why he felt like that when he was in on Erwin's plan from the beginning.
Looking at Erwin who watched them from the mirror's reflection, Hange decided to state what was really on their mind.
"I've always been aware of your ruthlessness, Erwin. In fact, knowing just how sharp your cleverness is would convince me it was deadly enough to kill… But this… This was just cold." The frown was evident, and Erwin had enough empathy and sense to lose his smirk. "I can't believe you used Nanaba to trail Levi's friends and then leak their location to Nicolas Lovof."
Sighing, Erwin walked out of the bathroom, stepping around Hange to go to his desk. He didn't feel guilty. Not in the least. The only way he would feel remorse was if the results ended in Levi's companions' death, but he was keen to not let it come to that. Afterall, their death would mean Levi had no reason to stay with the Scouts and that was as good as losing in the first place to Erwin.
"My options were limited, and we don't have time to be wasting on someone too brainwashed to see his worth. I tried reasonable attempts to speak with Levi and he refused to cooperate. Sometimes people need a shove in the right direction. Not everyone can be swayed with pretty words."
Hange shrugged, crossing their arms. "You don't have to explain it to me. I know why you did it. I just hope you know what you're doing… Levi must really be worth it to go through all that trouble."
Erwin sat in his chair and met Mike's gaze, both sharing a look like they knew Hange would be disappointed in them. Glancing down at his injured, sliced clean and deep in the meat of his palm where blood still oozed from, as sharp smile split his lips.
"I know he is. And the Scouts will be better for it."
Oops… The chapter got long very quickly! I debated on cutting it in half and adding it to the next seeing as it will be a shorter one, but the impact of it just wasn't going to be there and mess up the flow.
Anyway, we are approaching the end of the first Arc of the story where Levi and Erwin meet. The second Arc should be starting on Chapter 10 where we get to play a bit of modern-day Indiana Jones XD Next chapter will be shorter—I promise!
