[fic] Retribution Sixteen
I'm so so so very sorry for the lateness of this chapter. Work has really been killing me due to a sudden shortage of staff. I swear I had to write this while on the elliptical because I had no other time. Also sorry if it sucks or not up to my usual standard. While I wasn't in a rush, I didn't really have time to edit and rewrite like usual. Other than that, enjoy!
Title: Retribution sixteen
Rating: PG-13
Warning: violence, OOC (if you agree with FNR), AU (if you agree w/ FNR), but for those who disagree: CWC (Canon? What Canon?)
Characters: Fei Long, Mikhail, Yoh, AxA, Feodora (OC),
Spoiler: Spoiler for NT arc
Disclaimer: All VF characters belong to Yamane Ayano.
Beta: angel0399
Previous Chapters: For new readers, 'Retribution' is the third arc of a Mik x Fei trilogy that I've suffered my readers with since 2007. In order to make sense of it I'm afraid you will need to read 'Cruel Intentions' and its sequel 'Revelation' before you begin 'Retribution.' All the links are organized on the side bar of my lj kajornwan along with the trilogy's one-shot fillers. Russian, Chinese, Polish, Spanish (COMPLETED! OMG!), German, French, and newly added VIETNAMESE! (thank you everyone!) translations by readers are also found here. To make life even easier, a dear reader gryffin-draco has gone through the trouble of putting these in PDF files for download. Cruel Intentions and Revelation. Thank you so much sweetie.
5 AM. Yoh looked at his watch and rose from the bed. He hadn’t slept all night and had been waiting impatiently for morning to come. Surprisingly, it wasn’t the anxiety that had kept him up-- it was the thought of seeing Fei Long again under the circumstance that did. He couldn’t help but find it amusingly odd that they had first met in prison, and now prison would likely be the last place they would meet. Only this time he would walk in there as a free man - free from someone else’s orders and the obligation to finish his job, free to be completely honest with Fei Long. It was a second chance; a new beginning that rarely came to those in his profession. This time he would make it right, even if it would cost him his life.
He put on a plain white t-shirt and a pair of worn out blue jeans. He knew Toh’s men would make him change into something else, to make sure he wasn’t transporting anything into Fei Long’s cell, but it felt like a good start to be out of uniform.
He could hardly remember the last time he had done something for himself, based on his own decision. Mikhail didn’t give him any instructions, not even a suggestion of what had to be done. The man knew as much as he did, that there was not a single thing he wouldn’t do to make sure Fei Long made it out of there alive. Their interests were mutual, and despite everything Yoh had done to Fei Long, Mikhail had trusted him on this task and regarded him as more of an ally than a subordinate. It was the kind of relationship he wished he’d had with Fei Long during the years he had spent at Baishe - something that simply wasn’t possible while working undercover.
A sweet, warm smell of freshly baked bread and cinnamon reached his nose as he headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Feodora, he thought. It had been a while since she had last baked for Mikhail. Once, he thought it was a strange hobby for a woman who could handle the mafia business so impeccably. Lately, he had come to realize that it was something she liked to do as an outlet whenever she felt stressed and exhausted.
That morning he’d found her in the kitchen wearing her white apron over a black tank top and a pair of skin-tight black exercise pants. Her hair was pulled tight into a high ponytail that made her look more like an average girl than a woman who didn’t blink during a game of Russian Roulette she’d initiated. Just an arm’s length from her, Mikhail was sitting at the island with an empty cup of espresso, watching absentmindedly as she took the cinnamon rolls out of the oven. Yoh realized he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep that night, not that he should’ve expected otherwise.
For a while, he stood silently in the hallway, watching the two of them together in that kitchen share a moment they seemed to have had a hundred times before. He took one more step back and disappeared completely into the shadow. Yoh didn’t want them to notice his presence-not until he allowed it.
Feodora picked a roll from the tray and removed the outer layers before placing it onto Mikhail’s plate. The rest she placed on hers as she sat down on the opposite side of the island, nibbling on the leftovers of her husband’s roll with her fingers.
“You should make these for dad when you get home,” Mikhail said. “He loves nothing more than your cinnamon rolls.”
“Alexei hates them.” She smiled and then remembered. “Hated them.”
The memory of happier times long forgotten had struck her hard enough to bring back the tears. Mikhail looked up and reached over for her hand, cradling it in his as he offered no words of comfort. She answered his touch with a squeeze of her fingers and nodded, wiping the tears from her cheeks with her other hand.
“He hated everything with cinnamon,” Mikhail said, playing with the pastry on his plate as he spoke. “On a morning like this, he’d complain for hours because of the smell.”
She sniffed and then smiled. “You’re beginning to sound like an old man.”
“Well,” he ran his fingers through his hair and rose to make another cup of espresso, “considering Alexei, I may never have a chance to get old. I might as well play the part now.”
There was a hint of fear on her face as she watched him from behind, as if it was the last time she would ever see him make his coffee. From a distance, Yoh saw the cup in his hand shake a little, and he saw that Feodora noticed it as well. She got up slowly and wrapped her arms around him from behind. He didn’t stir at the touch, nor did he try to pull away. It must have been something they had done too many times before, or perhaps Mikhail Arbatov had needed some kind of comfort before facing his worst nightmare.
“You’re afraid,” she said in almost a whisper. “Tell me.”
He took a sharp breath and exhaled. “I’m afraid,” he paused, “of losing him. I’m afraid that things won’t be the same when I get him back. I’m afraid,” he hesitated and took another deep breath, “of falling and not getting up this time around. Dad’s sick, you’re pregnant, and...”
“Mikhail, look at me.” She spun him around to face her and cradled his face between her palms. “You won’t lose him. I will make sure of it,” Feodora said with absolute certainty.
To Yoh, it’d never seized to amaze him how far this woman was willing to go to love a man who wanted no more than her friendship, and yet he could understand her dedication as clear as if it had been his own.
“When you fall, I’ll catch you. Vladimir will be fine; I can take care of him. Your child will be all right, because I’m his mother,” she paused and tightened her grip on his face reassuringly, “and if Fei Long can’t stand you when you get him back, pregnant or not, you can bet I’ll be there to beat the shit out of him until he grows some intelligence.”
Mikhail raised a brow in surprise before he began to laugh. It was still a half-hearted laugh, but it seemed to have brightened his mood a little. “Why can’t I just love you?” He said in a somewhat melancholic way and shook his head.
“Because you’re a dumb fuck. I’ve known that since you were a kid.”
“Fei Long would agree on that,” Yoh stepped into the room and revealed himself, “for ever doubting him.” The Russian clearly had no idea how fiercely Fei Long loves. Either that, or he truly was a dumb fuck for still not knowing how much Fei Long loved him. That said, he had to admit it takes a really big man to admit to a woman he’s afraid.
“Here comes your rat,” Feodora snapped at the intruder. “The next thing you know, he’ll be listening to us having sex.”
“You’d be surprised at the amount of information I get from the other side of the bedroom door,” Yoh replied nonchalantly. “Have you talked to Toh?”
“Does that work every time?” Feodora asked as she moved back to the island where her cinnamon rolls were.
“Does what work?”
“Changing the subject after dropping suicidal comments.” She placed a roll in front of him.
“Apparently,” Yoh replied and pushed the plate back towards her. “I don’t eat in the morning, thank you.”
“That’s interesting.” She pushed the plate back. “Sit down and finish it, and if you eat only the center of the roll like he does I’ll shoot you. And yes, I’ve talked to Toh.”
Yoh seated himself and began to eat as instructed, trying to picture in his mind how the woman would handle a newborn baby when it arrives, then decided it was better to focus on the bigger problem. “And?”
“You and Mikhail will meet him at noon today at one of our casinos. His men will take you to Fei Long, and as soon as you appear on screen, we’ll move in,” she explained. “The police will be standing by for my signal to take care of Yan Tsui. At the same time I’ll take the jet out to wherever they’re holding you and Fei Long and create a diversion for you two to escape. I’ll drop you weapons and communication devices from the air, and I’ll walk you through the safest way out. Once that’s done, our men will take out Toh.”
“Assuming he doesn’t find out first and have someone put a bullet in Fei Long’s head before you get there.” Yoh said. He wasn’t pessimistic in nature, but the worst-case scenario had to be addressed before they got into action.
“Hopefully Mikhail will keep him...,” she paused reluctantly to think of the right word, “...occupied long enough to find out much too late.”
“You do realize that if he fails, then we’re all dead - Fei Long, him, me and it’s likely he will also shoot you down with the jet.”
Feodora smiled and replied with humor in her eyes, “Never trust Mikhail Arbatov with his shirt on, trust him with his shirt off. That’s what the girls used to say in college.”
Yoh looked at her and then at her husband who stood not too far away. He would’ve doubted the man had he not have seen his seduction of Fei Long succeed before. “Do you think that’s still true?”
Mikhail raised a brow. “I don’t know, would you like to try and find out?”
It was said with the tone he often used with Fei Long, which gave Yoh a glimpse of hope that this shameless master of deception could still pull off the stunt and lie through his teeth under the circumstances. “I hope you’re right.” He turned to Feodora.
“I’m never wrong,” she replied.
Somehow, for the very first time, Yoh thought her expression didn’t quite match her words.
***
Phillip Toh stood with his hands behind his back watching the Cotai strip from the floor-to-ceiling window of the hotel’s owner suite. Any view from the 69th floor of a building anywhere was always expectedly nice, but the room was so strategically positioned that it had managed to capture the most spectacular view of the bays of Macau. It was as though the entire building had been built for the suite - a concept too irrational to be executed in most cases. He may have thought it was sheer luck had he known a little less about the property’s owner. When it comes to handpicking the absolute best for himself, Mikhail Arbatov has been known to never spare any thought for reason. It had always been why the man had captured his interest from the first time they had met, and why his hatred for Liu Fei Long had doubled, when he learned of their infamous relationship.
The door clicked opened. Toh took a glance over his shoulder to find his host entering the suite, followed by Fei Long’s former right hand man and a bunch of Russian goons in casual attire. From the way they presented themselves, these had to be Arbatov’s most trusted subordinates.
“Do you always keep your guests waiting, or have you lost track of time running around making plans to stab me in the back?”
Mikhail Arbatov looked at his watch and raised a brow. “I was watching tennis, and no, I don’t need to make up plans to stab anyone in the back, especially when that person has come to me to be,” he paused as if to make sure he had the right word and smiled, “stabbed.”
For a moment, Yoh thought that their plans had been exposed. It must have been one of Toh’s tactics to catch a scheme against him, judging from those hawk-like eyes that fixated on his host’s every reaction. Fortunately, Mikhail happened to be too good of a player, and he had perfected his poker face to let anything slip. Still, that snake certainly didn’t come to the exchange thinking everything was going to go as agreed.
“I’m sorry you think so little of me.” Toh grinned as he stepped closer to his host, stopping just an inch away to make sure his next words could be felt on the other man’s lips. “I’ve come here for much, much more than that.”
“Is that why you’ve brought such a large audience?” Mikhail counted six of Toh’s men in the room. “I thought we’d agreed on four.” It being his territory, Toh had secured himself the right to string along his bodyguards, but the number just wasn’t right.
“The other two are here to escort your man to Fei Long’s cell, of course. I’m sure you have foreseen this,” the Chinese man said and glanced at Yoh from the corners of his eyes. “Is that him?”
“That’s the man.” He nodded.
“Very well.” Phillip Toh nodded to two of his men who promptly stationed themselves left and right of the new hostage, both with a gun in their hand. “Take him away. Search and scan for tracking devices at headquarters before taking him to the cell.”
“In a hurry, are we?” Mikhail commented with a smirk as he quickly exchanged a look with Yoh before they took him away. From then on, should one thing fail to go as planned, Fei Long would be dead. He knew this, and was glad Yoh seemed to know this too before they parted.
“I like to have my payment immediately upon delivery,” Toh reached out and played with the collar of the Russian’s black leather jacket. He had to admit that leather and Mikhail Arbatov were a pairing that could whet his appetite anytime.
Slowly, Mikhail reached for his phone and held it in front of the other man’s face. “Delivery is when I see him on screen with Fei Long. Now we wait.”
***
“Get off,” one of Toh’s men pushed him out of the chopper from behind. Yoh stumbled forward with his blindfold still wrapped tight around his head and both his wrists cuffed behind him. They had already taken him to a room, stripped him bare and scanned him for tracking devices. Luckily for them, the chip Mikhail had used had proven to be too advanced for standard scanners to detect. They flew him here afterwards in a helicopter - a place he estimated to be about half an hour away from the Cotai strip by air.
He blinked a few times to adjust to the light when the blindfold was removed. They were in front of an old, one-story building that seemed to have been abandoned for decades. It was surrounded 360 degrees by the sea and the strong waves that crashed loudly upon the cliffs as high as a two-story building. More than likely, Fei Long had been kept on an island just off the coast of Hong Kong or Macau to make sure he had nowhere to go should he escape from his cell. It was a good thing that they had decided to strike with a fighter jet, or else the window of escape would be too small for them both to come out alive having to cross the sea to get to the mainland.
There were 12, no 15, men armed with machine guns around the entrance to the building alone, and that was all that he was allowed to see. They took him inside and down a long corridor leading to a series of old, empty prison cells. At the end of the hall was an automatic metal door with a finger scan system that seemed, in every way, out of place given the severely dated surrounding. One of the men that escorted him used his thumb to scan and the door immediately opened. Inside was a locker room where they kept supplies for the prisoners as well as the guards. This had to be one of the secret prisons triad leaders and mafias used to keep and interrogate their hostages and traitors. Baishe had a few of these all over Hong Kong.
“Change.” They uncuffed him and tossed him a uniform - a pair of dark green cotton trousers and matching short-sleeve shirt that smelled like it had been worn by a dozen men and had never been washed. He put them on without delay, knowing the quicker he gets into the cell they were holding Fei Long, the faster they both could leave. He had guessed the moment he entered the locker room that it was behind that other metal door where another two armed men stood guard as if the prisoner could escape at any minute. Phillip Toh certainly wasn’t taking any chance, or perhaps it was Fei Long that had given him cause. He’d heard from a mole in Baishe that their former leader had tried to escape, almost successfully, more than once. Not that it had surprised him in any way.
Standing in front of the metal door, Yoh looked at his reflection and couldn’t help smiling a little. There he was, once again in a prisoner uniform, heading into a cell where Liu Fei Long of Baishe was. He could still remember it then, the way the man stood out from the crowd like someone who didn’t belong, even in the same filthy uniform and with his hair trimmed short. How he had pitied that man then, so powerful, so much potential, and yet so crippled with guilt and regret that he’d allowed himself to be locked up among scum. He knew nothing of the man then, no more than what was necessary for the job. “Watch him and let me know if he makes any move,” Asami Ryuichi had told him to do just that much, and he had understood the underlying message in that order. Fei Long was to be watched over, kept safe and alive. If his former boss had wanted him dead, it would have taken one simple command that he had executed more than a dozen of times before. Asami Ryuichi never had a problem ordering a hit, but the one thing he had always avoided at all costs was to give the world, his subordinates included, the idea that anyone or anything mattered to him enough to be used against him. Fei Long had never realized this, but the truth he’d needed to hear had already been revealed the moment his cover was blown. Asami did care. He had worked for the Japanese man for more than a decade to know this for certain, and for seven years he had kept it from Fei Long to keep his position at Baishe, when the truth would have set the man free from all this hatred years ago. Still, he had to wonder, would it set him free from the bond that Asami was so determined to cut?
The guard unlocked the door and slid it open. The room was dark and the air smelled like it had not been ventilated for years. There, on the same bed he had seen from the camera feed, Fei Long was laying on his side with his face to the wall, presumably sleeping.
“Go on,” one of the guards said as he pushed the new prisoner forward. “The boss said you could do whatever you like with him. Just make sure we get to see some action, yeah?”
Yoh turned to look at the man and memorized his face. The scum would be the first to go, and he’d make sure the man doesn’t end up pretty.
The door closed from behind him and still Fei Long didn’t stir. Yoh stepped closer to the bed, his heart skipping a few beats as he approached, fearing the worst. A well-trained assassin like Fei Long would have been awakened the moment that lock on the door was handled. Something just wasn’t right.
Before he realized what had happened, he was on the floor, face down with his right arm twisted behind his back and Fei Long’s knee pinning him down to the cold, hard floor. He immediately understood then, how the man wasn’t sleeping-- he was waiting for a chance to attack.
His arm was twisted harder, and this time Yoh groaned to the pain. It was the first time he had been attacked by Fei Long, and by gods, the man could have killed him in less time than he could say his own name.
It was that moment that Fei Long seemed to have recognized him and loosened his grip, even though he was still pinned to the ground. “Yoh?”
When he was certain, Fei Long lifted him off the ground and dragged him to the wall near the sink. Pushing Yoh’s face against the concrete with one hand around the back of his neck, his other hand kept his arm twisted behind him to make sure he was immobilized. “Keep your voice down.” The Baishe leader leaned forward close enough for Yoh to feel his breaths brushed harshly against his face. “Why are you here?”
The room had to be rigged with microphones, that much Yoh immediately realized. Fei Long must have spent his time scanning every inch of the cell to find the best way to escape and found a spot where he would least likely be seen or heard.
“Mikhail took the deal,” Yoh said in the softest whisper to make sure only Fei Long could hear. “I’m here to get you out. Save your strength. Stay away from the door.” He knew the aggression was for the show, but it was pretty clear the strength the Baishe leader exerted had a lot to do with his state of mind.
“How?” Fei Long tightened his grip. “When?”
Yoh looked up at the ceiling as a gesture. “Anytime now.”
Fei Long thought for a second, nodded and loosened his grip. For the first time in that cell, Yoh turned around and face him. The man was dressed in what he could only call rags, and on his face were bruises and cuts that made him nearly unrecognizable up close, and yet he was a sight that took his breath away momentarily. It was the first time he had wanted to laugh at his own foolishness. He had walked into this room, thinking that it would bring back memories of Fei Long when they had first met in prison, hoping that he would have another chance to start over again. But the man he once knew was nowhere to be found. It was obvious that there would be no second chance for him. Only one thing was on Fei Long’s mind and it was freedom, and his eyes only held room for one man - Mikhail Arbatov.
For the next 10 minutes, Fei Long paced back and forth in the room like a caged lion, mumbling something inaudible to himself. One might have thought that he was being impatient, but the tightness of those jaws told Yoh it was something far deeper than the need to escape. It didn’t surprise him. If there was one thing that Fei Long could never stand, it was the thought of someone he cared about being made to suffer because of him. As long as Mikhail was out there with Toh, there was no way Fei Long could possibly sit still.
And yet there was a certain calmness to him in that moment that seemed out of the ordinary. The usual Fei Long that he knew would have thrown a fit over the situation and filled his heart with guilt or regret. As furious as he was, that day his focus seemed to remain intact, if not sharper than usual. They say love can change a man better than anything. Somehow the change was painful for him to witness. Fei Long had become stronger, wiser, and more confident, when his existence had nothing to do with it. Nothing.
Just then, the Baishe leader shifted his glance to the ceiling. His acute sense of hearing had picked up a sound. "Are you ready?" He said, turning back to the other man in confirmation.
Yoh nodded. To die for Fei Long? Anytime.
The blast came seconds later. Yoh stood with both his arms spread out on the wall, shielding the one man he knew he was born to protect. He could sense everything with startling clarity - the debris that landed on his back and burned through the shirt onto his skin, the heat from the fire that erupted somewhere in the locker room, and the pungent smoke that filled his lungs shortly afterwards. For as long as he had worked in the field, it was the first time he had felt so alive, the first time he had such a clear vision of his mission.
A commotion could be heard clearly from outside. The door must have been successfully blasted through. Feodora's shot must have been remarkably precise, given the fact that both he and Fei Long were still standing mostly unharmed. But then again, he had not doubted her competence.
Fei Long was already by the door when the smoke began to clear, looking for the right opportunity to attack. In his hand was a metal bar that had been blown off from the door, or perhaps the shelves, he couldn't tell for certain. Only the first man that entered the cell was able to tell - when Fei Long gave him a taste of it. Yoh searched for another weapon from the wreckage and found another metal bar. It was a tad bit short, but it had to do for now. Fei Long had picked the best one possible in less time than he could adequately scan the room. Feodora was right, the only man who could get out of this place had already been in there days ago.
The first guard came through the blasted door and blindly fired a few rounds into the smoke. Before he could have anticipated how and where the attack was going to happen, Fei Long moved in and plunged the bar into the man's neck. It went through to the other side and was pulled back with the same speed. The ex-assassin grabbed the gun from the dead man and threw it towards him, making a gesture for him to stand guard on the opposite side of the door as he proceeded. He ran to position and waited for the next signal. The protocols came immediately back to him like it had been yesterday since they were fighting side by side. He was the shield, and Fei Long was the weapon. It was the way they used to work together after they had gotten out of prison, when Fei Long was just a man trying to take back what belonged to him, and he was still a trusted ally. After all these years Yoh had thought the memories of those times had been lost completely to the dragon. Apparently, Fei Long had remembered everything, down to their secret hand signals and the correct timing at which they remain in sync with each other during an attack.
At a signal from Fei Long, Yoh moved forward into the locker room and fired a few warning shots. Some movement responded. Fei Long leapt into the smoke and knocked someone over. The growl of pain that followed told Yoh another guard had fallen. The hissing sound from his former boss told him to press forward and clear the way. He proceeded and fired more rounds into the smoke, keeping his mind alert as to where Fei Long was at all times.
The room fell into complete silence after that, save for the sound of furniture burning in the fire near the blasted door. Fei Long sent a signal that the room was cleared and for him to proceed forward.
"There were four of them in here," Yoh whispered as he reached the man’s side. "You killed two."
"There are two more corpses by the door," Fei Long replied as he searched his last victim and found a knife and a half empty revolver. "Find a man with a working finger print or we won't get out of here."
Yoh nodded and quickly checked the corpses while Fei Long continued to search the room for more weapons. Overhead, the jet could still be heard circling around the island, only now it was accompanied by a series of shots being fired into the sky.
"Who's flying the jet?" Fei Long must have seen the worried look on his face when he looked up momentarily.
"Feodora."
The dragon bit his lips. "You let a pregnant woman fly that jet?"
This time Yoh had to give him a look. "Who was supposed to stop her? Mikhail?" Like that was ever going to happen. "Here, this one's hand should work." He flipped the body over on its back and began to drag it to the automatic door. They had no time to waste. Feodora was risking her life every minute she continued to circle the island.
"Put him down," Fei Long said impatiently as he stood over the body. "Move."
A shadow fell over his head. The next thing he knew he was staring at an axe that landed a few inches away from his fingers that he still had wrapped around the corpse's arms. He was wrong-- Fei Long’s lack of patience hadn’t improved one bit.
"Why the hell do they always put such a blunt axe with the fire extinguisher?" Another hurl on the axe was made to sever the hand completely off. "Grab that hand and find the right finger," he said as he yanked the axe off the ground and tossed it away. "We need more weapons."
"She will be dropping a case. I'm guessing the moment she sees us outside the building."
“Outside the building?” Fei Long paused to look at his former bodyguard and repeated. "You know they’re going to fucking kill us the moment we open this door?" There was a hint of humor in his tone as he spoke, as if by then nothing could scare or discourage him anymore. It didn’t surprise Yoh. Fei Long had always been much more relaxed on the field than in the office. He’d always figured that it was the only time when the man had a chance to release all that pent up anger and stress. Management wasn’t really his strength.
"That's what I'm here for," Yoh replied with a slight smile that was nearly unnoticeable. "Stay behind me, find that case, and no matter what happens, you get yourself out of here. Alive. Do you understand?"
Fei Long looked at him quietly for a minute, and then gave him a playful smile that Yoh hadn’t seen in a long time. "Weapons that fall from the sky, and a human shield of my own. How very Mikhail Arbatov," he positioned himself by the door, checking his weapons as he spoke. “If we survive this, remind me to get you a big raise.”
“I’d settle for a big kiss," Yoh replied with a shrug while his eyes remained focused on the gun he was checking. He had to admit, seeing Fei Long that way made him feel more humorous than usual. It wasn't what he would usually do, but considering the fact that he may turn into one of these corpses in the next five minutes or less, he might as well remove that stick from his backside for once.
"Now that would certainly get you killed." Fei Long snorted and turned his attention to the finger scan. "Shall we?"
Yoh nodded and pressed the dead man's thumb on the pad. A buzz sounded, signaling a scan failure. He wiped the blood off the thumb with his shirt and positioned it on the scan again.
"Wait," Fei Long said, reaching over for a handful of his collar and yanked him away from the pad to his direction.
The kiss was coarse, brief, and lacking in intimacy on every level. In Yoh's perspective it was downright brutal in whatever meaning it was meant to imply. Still, something in the way Fei Long looked at him then made it impossible for him to stay mad for very long.
"Consider that an advance payment," Fei Long grinned. "Don’t die out there. You don’t want unfinished business with me."
Considering what had happened to his first boss, he couldn’t agree more. "You just said it would make me a dead man."
"Who's gonna tell him? You?" The Baishe leader laughed. "Let's go."
***
A beep sounded. Phillip Toh picked the phone up from his pocket and checked his messages. "It seems your package has been delivered," he said, smiling at the man sitting across the table.
Mikhail placed his drink down and took out his phone to see the live feed. Apparently, Toh had kept his end of the promise. It had been almost an hour since Yoh had left the building. Most likely Feodora could get to wherever the man was in 15 minutes with the jet, more or less. She had been monitoring the cell and the signal on the tracking device since Toh had arrived and was probably already on the move as they spoke. If everything goes as planned, he shouldn't have to distract Toh for too long.
"Now, about that payment," Toh reminded his host, "I hope it’s worth the trouble."
"We shall see." He rose to his feet and headed to the bedroom, lighting a cigarette along the way. Keeping the door opened with one hand, he turned to the guest. "After you," Mikhail said with a not-so-subtle playfulness in this tone before he turned to the guards - his and Toh's. "Don't be alarmed if it gets a little rough in there, boys. I am not known for subtlety."
"Don't worry," Toh said as he walked by the other man into the bedroom. "My men know I can handle three of you." The Liu brothers may be a bit of a handful, but a clumsy big Russian like Arbatov wouldn't last five minutes if the man was dumb enough to fight him. Besides, thanks to the host who overdoes everything, the room, as he immediately noticed, was sound proof to the extent of a professional theatre. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing to worry about, not on his end anyway.
Mikhail sneered openly at the egotistic remarks and allowed it to slip from his attention. He needed to keep his cool to not blow the plan to pieces. Soon enough Fei Long would be on his way to safety. Everything else could be dealt with later. He closed the door and turned the lock. Nothing would leave or enter the room until all was done.
When he turned around, Phillip Toh was standing right in front of him, no more than an arm's length away. "Calm down," he told the man with a seductive grin. "We have all the time in the world."
As soon as he finished the sentence, his jaw was busted in by something hard that was too quick for him to see or dodge. He quickly raised both his arms in defense as his back crashed hard against the wall, only to find himself being kneed in the stomach before he could see it coming. The man punched him again and as Mikhail swayed, he was slammed face down on the floor. Fuck. He cursed in his mind as he realized he had been successfully disarmed. The man was too fast, too precise, and too good at this for him to even have a chance to defend himself. "You son of a bitch," Mikhail growled, for some part over the pain, but mostly for his own stupidity and carelessness.
"I'm afraid you have me mistaken with your lover," Toh said as he positioned himself on the other man's back, pinning down his opponent with his knee. He tugged the rope around his ponytail free, and began to tie both the Russians wrists behind his back, securing them with a dead knot he had perfected as a child.
"Do you really think," Toh leaned closer to his newly acquired captive and whispered near the golden curls that had become disordered from the attack, "that I would allow you to take control over me, and risk everything I've worked so hard for for decades, hmm?" It had taken him years of planning to finally get his hands on his little brother. it was foolish to think he would allow his physical desires to ruin it.
Toh yanked the man back on his feet by the hair, and forced him to sit down on the daybed nearby. Picking up the fallen black cigarette from the floor, he sucked in a long, steady breath through the joint and exhaled in obvious satisfaction. "I must admit-- your taste is very impressive," Toh said as he looked around the room that looked like it came from a cutting edge interior design magazine. "Bold, daring, extravagant, and bordering on madness, right down to the cigarette you smoke."
"And that's exactly what you're missing," Mikhail sneered at the Chinese man as he licked the blood off his upper lip. Keep your cool just a few minutes longer, he told himself, even though the combination of tasting his blood and being tied up was beginning to disturb him far too much for his tastes. "I thought you wanted to have some fun."
Toh smiled and made a soft hum in his throat. "Now you're the one in a hurry," he said, trailing a hand down from the Russian's collarbone to the middle of his chest, undoing the buttons along the way. "I know you're planning something, and until I find out the fun will have to wait. Didn't you just say we have all the time the world?"
Perhaps it was the pain he still felt from the attack, or maybe it was the anxiety that his plans may have backfired, but something was making it difficult for him to respond the way he usually would. He told himself it was probably one of the two, but the way his skin crawled at the man's touch was simply hatred for what he had done to Fei Long.
"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" He took a puff on the cigarette and held it between his fingers. "Although you do look a little pale. Did I hit you a little too hard, or does this bring back a certain," he paused and leaned forward, close enough to feel the man's uneven breathing on his cheek, "memory?"
Mikhail jolted back violently as the cigarette burned the skin on his chest. Something hard that had been growing in his throat had kept him from making a sound. His body had turned stiff from his fingertips to his toes. It was a symptom he had experienced before, only he could not quite place when or where it happened. Whatever it was, it must have also affected his tolerance for pain. It was just a damn cigarette, why did it sting like someone had poked him with a hot iron?
"You're shaking." Toh traced his eyes on the outline of the strong, broad shoulders that began to tremble a little. "Why? Did it remind you of how you got those scars? How old were you then? 16? 14?" He had read it in a file somewhere-- how the man had gone through therapy, drug addiction, detoxification and rehab as a result of that event. It was one of the reasons why the Russian had caught and secured his attention. Someone like him would know pain and understand it. They belonged to the same group of people - people who managed to survive despite a wretched past, and survive in flying colors. The man needed to be reminded of this fact, that he was stronger and more valuable than his half brother.
“I heard he was your uncle. That must be hard.” He stepped closer and rested his knees on the daybed, straddling himself over his prize. With one hand on the man’s chest, the other lifting his chin up to meet his eyes, Toh smiled and said in a whisper, “Tell me, what did he make you do? Did he make you suck him off? Was he rough? Gentle? Forceful?”
“Get the fuck away from me!” Mikhail cursed as he tried to struggle free from bondage, only to find himself being pinned harder into the cushion by Toh. Was the man that much stronger than he looked, or had he lost the control over his own strength just listening to those words?
A cell phone rang and Mikhail’s heart felt suddenly lighter at the sound he had been waiting for. That was his big break. Feodora must have already started the attack. “Maybe you should pick up that call.”
Toh paused and looked at him as he reached for the phone in his pocket. Whoever was on the other end must have fired the information before the man had a chance to say hello, and from the look on Toh’s face, things probably weren’t going so well for them. Still, he had expected a more extreme reaction. The man was much too calm for his liking.
“I don’t care what you do, keep the situation under control,” he commanded in a steady yet forceful tone. “If he escapes, I will make sure your wife and son pay for your mistake. Do not fail me.”
Hanging up the phone, Toh rose to his feet and stood at an arm’s length away, his eyes still fixed intensely on the Russian. From the way his chest heaved harshly up and down, Mikhail knew that whatever happened had raised his anger despite the calm and collected appearance. He stood still for a moment, as if he was trying to keep his emotions under control, before slowly undoing the leather belt at his waist and slipped it free. It was a gesture Mikhail recognized on instinct, backed by the way his body immediately froze from limb to limb.
He shut his eyes on reflex at the first strike that landed on his cheek. Had it been a whip it would have cut deep into his skin and left a scar. The next one came not so far apart, but seemed to have accumulated in strength. The next ones came faster and heavier, digging at his skin with the sound that rang like lightning in his head, stripping away his sanity each time it struck. The sting surged through his skin like an electrical current that kept on growing stronger. He could feel himself trembling as the smell of his own blood brought back the crave for needles that usually ended his suffering. Hold on a little longer, he told himself in his mind. All this would be over the moment his phone rang.
He could hardly feel his own skin by the time it had ceased, and Toh was standing in front of him panting heavily from the exertion. Just then a familiar ring sounded from his phone, Mikhail closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he began to laugh. “That would be my wife,” he said, sneering at the man still standing above him. “I told her to call once he’s safely escaped. It appears that your fun is over.”
Toh stilled for a moment, and Mikhail prepared himself for the next episode of beating. It didn’t matter now. Fei Long had made it; everything else would be meaningless from that point on. As far as he was concerned, the mission had been accomplished.
It was when the man began to laugh that made him reconsider his previous statement. It would have been better had it sounded hysterical, but the look on Toh’s face told him he had yet another card to play.
“That may be so,” he said as he wrapped the belt tightly around his hand, as if it was giving him comfort. “But you seem to forget that you’re the one being tied up with me holding the other end of the rope. The real fun, in my opinion, is about to begin.”
Mikhail laughed openly at the remark. The man must have been really out of his mind. “This is my casino, my territory. You kill me and you’ll never walk out of here alive. Unless, of course, your idea of fun is to join me in hell. We can certainly continue this down there.” Whether he ends up dead or alive, one thing he would make certain of is that Fei Long will have the man’s head served to him on a silver plate that day. It would be his last gift to the love of his life, the most elaborate one for that matter.
“That’s one way to look at it,” Toh said as he reached his hand down the pocket of his hostage’s trousers and slipped out the phone that was still ringing unanswered. “I wonder, though, what Fei Long has to say about that?”
Mikhail took a deep breath and tried to rise once more in hopes of stopping the phone from being answered. Toh responded by kneeing him again in the stomach, and this time he wound the belt tight around Mikhail’s throat, fastening it just enough for him to remain silent. “Stay, and find out how much your lover loves you,” he said and picked up the call.
***
A/N So there are two ways I can go about this, the short one and end this in the next two or three chapters, or would you guys prefer that I go the long way (and stick with me for a year longer? LOL). I've missed talking to everyone so much, please comment so I can see Fei fans again! That will certainly take the stress off work. *hugs*
Title: Retribution sixteen
Rating: PG-13
Warning: violence, OOC (if you agree with FNR), AU (if you agree w/ FNR), but for those who disagree: CWC (Canon? What Canon?)
Characters: Fei Long, Mikhail, Yoh, AxA, Feodora (OC),
Spoiler: Spoiler for NT arc
Disclaimer: All VF characters belong to Yamane Ayano.
Beta: angel0399
Previous Chapters: For new readers, 'Retribution' is the third arc of a Mik x Fei trilogy that I've suffered my readers with since 2007. In order to make sense of it I'm afraid you will need to read 'Cruel Intentions' and its sequel 'Revelation' before you begin 'Retribution.' All the links are organized on the side bar of my lj kajornwan along with the trilogy's one-shot fillers. Russian, Chinese, Polish, Spanish (COMPLETED! OMG!), German, French, and newly added VIETNAMESE! (thank you everyone!) translations by readers are also found here. To make life even easier, a dear reader gryffin-draco has gone through the trouble of putting these in PDF files for download. Cruel Intentions and Revelation. Thank you so much sweetie.
5 AM. Yoh looked at his watch and rose from the bed. He hadn’t slept all night and had been waiting impatiently for morning to come. Surprisingly, it wasn’t the anxiety that had kept him up-- it was the thought of seeing Fei Long again under the circumstance that did. He couldn’t help but find it amusingly odd that they had first met in prison, and now prison would likely be the last place they would meet. Only this time he would walk in there as a free man - free from someone else’s orders and the obligation to finish his job, free to be completely honest with Fei Long. It was a second chance; a new beginning that rarely came to those in his profession. This time he would make it right, even if it would cost him his life.
He put on a plain white t-shirt and a pair of worn out blue jeans. He knew Toh’s men would make him change into something else, to make sure he wasn’t transporting anything into Fei Long’s cell, but it felt like a good start to be out of uniform.
He could hardly remember the last time he had done something for himself, based on his own decision. Mikhail didn’t give him any instructions, not even a suggestion of what had to be done. The man knew as much as he did, that there was not a single thing he wouldn’t do to make sure Fei Long made it out of there alive. Their interests were mutual, and despite everything Yoh had done to Fei Long, Mikhail had trusted him on this task and regarded him as more of an ally than a subordinate. It was the kind of relationship he wished he’d had with Fei Long during the years he had spent at Baishe - something that simply wasn’t possible while working undercover.
A sweet, warm smell of freshly baked bread and cinnamon reached his nose as he headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Feodora, he thought. It had been a while since she had last baked for Mikhail. Once, he thought it was a strange hobby for a woman who could handle the mafia business so impeccably. Lately, he had come to realize that it was something she liked to do as an outlet whenever she felt stressed and exhausted.
That morning he’d found her in the kitchen wearing her white apron over a black tank top and a pair of skin-tight black exercise pants. Her hair was pulled tight into a high ponytail that made her look more like an average girl than a woman who didn’t blink during a game of Russian Roulette she’d initiated. Just an arm’s length from her, Mikhail was sitting at the island with an empty cup of espresso, watching absentmindedly as she took the cinnamon rolls out of the oven. Yoh realized he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep that night, not that he should’ve expected otherwise.
For a while, he stood silently in the hallway, watching the two of them together in that kitchen share a moment they seemed to have had a hundred times before. He took one more step back and disappeared completely into the shadow. Yoh didn’t want them to notice his presence-not until he allowed it.
Feodora picked a roll from the tray and removed the outer layers before placing it onto Mikhail’s plate. The rest she placed on hers as she sat down on the opposite side of the island, nibbling on the leftovers of her husband’s roll with her fingers.
“You should make these for dad when you get home,” Mikhail said. “He loves nothing more than your cinnamon rolls.”
“Alexei hates them.” She smiled and then remembered. “Hated them.”
The memory of happier times long forgotten had struck her hard enough to bring back the tears. Mikhail looked up and reached over for her hand, cradling it in his as he offered no words of comfort. She answered his touch with a squeeze of her fingers and nodded, wiping the tears from her cheeks with her other hand.
“He hated everything with cinnamon,” Mikhail said, playing with the pastry on his plate as he spoke. “On a morning like this, he’d complain for hours because of the smell.”
She sniffed and then smiled. “You’re beginning to sound like an old man.”
“Well,” he ran his fingers through his hair and rose to make another cup of espresso, “considering Alexei, I may never have a chance to get old. I might as well play the part now.”
There was a hint of fear on her face as she watched him from behind, as if it was the last time she would ever see him make his coffee. From a distance, Yoh saw the cup in his hand shake a little, and he saw that Feodora noticed it as well. She got up slowly and wrapped her arms around him from behind. He didn’t stir at the touch, nor did he try to pull away. It must have been something they had done too many times before, or perhaps Mikhail Arbatov had needed some kind of comfort before facing his worst nightmare.
“You’re afraid,” she said in almost a whisper. “Tell me.”
He took a sharp breath and exhaled. “I’m afraid,” he paused, “of losing him. I’m afraid that things won’t be the same when I get him back. I’m afraid,” he hesitated and took another deep breath, “of falling and not getting up this time around. Dad’s sick, you’re pregnant, and...”
“Mikhail, look at me.” She spun him around to face her and cradled his face between her palms. “You won’t lose him. I will make sure of it,” Feodora said with absolute certainty.
To Yoh, it’d never seized to amaze him how far this woman was willing to go to love a man who wanted no more than her friendship, and yet he could understand her dedication as clear as if it had been his own.
“When you fall, I’ll catch you. Vladimir will be fine; I can take care of him. Your child will be all right, because I’m his mother,” she paused and tightened her grip on his face reassuringly, “and if Fei Long can’t stand you when you get him back, pregnant or not, you can bet I’ll be there to beat the shit out of him until he grows some intelligence.”
Mikhail raised a brow in surprise before he began to laugh. It was still a half-hearted laugh, but it seemed to have brightened his mood a little. “Why can’t I just love you?” He said in a somewhat melancholic way and shook his head.
“Because you’re a dumb fuck. I’ve known that since you were a kid.”
“Fei Long would agree on that,” Yoh stepped into the room and revealed himself, “for ever doubting him.” The Russian clearly had no idea how fiercely Fei Long loves. Either that, or he truly was a dumb fuck for still not knowing how much Fei Long loved him. That said, he had to admit it takes a really big man to admit to a woman he’s afraid.
“Here comes your rat,” Feodora snapped at the intruder. “The next thing you know, he’ll be listening to us having sex.”
“You’d be surprised at the amount of information I get from the other side of the bedroom door,” Yoh replied nonchalantly. “Have you talked to Toh?”
“Does that work every time?” Feodora asked as she moved back to the island where her cinnamon rolls were.
“Does what work?”
“Changing the subject after dropping suicidal comments.” She placed a roll in front of him.
“Apparently,” Yoh replied and pushed the plate back towards her. “I don’t eat in the morning, thank you.”
“That’s interesting.” She pushed the plate back. “Sit down and finish it, and if you eat only the center of the roll like he does I’ll shoot you. And yes, I’ve talked to Toh.”
Yoh seated himself and began to eat as instructed, trying to picture in his mind how the woman would handle a newborn baby when it arrives, then decided it was better to focus on the bigger problem. “And?”
“You and Mikhail will meet him at noon today at one of our casinos. His men will take you to Fei Long, and as soon as you appear on screen, we’ll move in,” she explained. “The police will be standing by for my signal to take care of Yan Tsui. At the same time I’ll take the jet out to wherever they’re holding you and Fei Long and create a diversion for you two to escape. I’ll drop you weapons and communication devices from the air, and I’ll walk you through the safest way out. Once that’s done, our men will take out Toh.”
“Assuming he doesn’t find out first and have someone put a bullet in Fei Long’s head before you get there.” Yoh said. He wasn’t pessimistic in nature, but the worst-case scenario had to be addressed before they got into action.
“Hopefully Mikhail will keep him...,” she paused reluctantly to think of the right word, “...occupied long enough to find out much too late.”
“You do realize that if he fails, then we’re all dead - Fei Long, him, me and it’s likely he will also shoot you down with the jet.”
Feodora smiled and replied with humor in her eyes, “Never trust Mikhail Arbatov with his shirt on, trust him with his shirt off. That’s what the girls used to say in college.”
Yoh looked at her and then at her husband who stood not too far away. He would’ve doubted the man had he not have seen his seduction of Fei Long succeed before. “Do you think that’s still true?”
Mikhail raised a brow. “I don’t know, would you like to try and find out?”
It was said with the tone he often used with Fei Long, which gave Yoh a glimpse of hope that this shameless master of deception could still pull off the stunt and lie through his teeth under the circumstances. “I hope you’re right.” He turned to Feodora.
“I’m never wrong,” she replied.
Somehow, for the very first time, Yoh thought her expression didn’t quite match her words.
***
Phillip Toh stood with his hands behind his back watching the Cotai strip from the floor-to-ceiling window of the hotel’s owner suite. Any view from the 69th floor of a building anywhere was always expectedly nice, but the room was so strategically positioned that it had managed to capture the most spectacular view of the bays of Macau. It was as though the entire building had been built for the suite - a concept too irrational to be executed in most cases. He may have thought it was sheer luck had he known a little less about the property’s owner. When it comes to handpicking the absolute best for himself, Mikhail Arbatov has been known to never spare any thought for reason. It had always been why the man had captured his interest from the first time they had met, and why his hatred for Liu Fei Long had doubled, when he learned of their infamous relationship.
The door clicked opened. Toh took a glance over his shoulder to find his host entering the suite, followed by Fei Long’s former right hand man and a bunch of Russian goons in casual attire. From the way they presented themselves, these had to be Arbatov’s most trusted subordinates.
“Do you always keep your guests waiting, or have you lost track of time running around making plans to stab me in the back?”
Mikhail Arbatov looked at his watch and raised a brow. “I was watching tennis, and no, I don’t need to make up plans to stab anyone in the back, especially when that person has come to me to be,” he paused as if to make sure he had the right word and smiled, “stabbed.”
For a moment, Yoh thought that their plans had been exposed. It must have been one of Toh’s tactics to catch a scheme against him, judging from those hawk-like eyes that fixated on his host’s every reaction. Fortunately, Mikhail happened to be too good of a player, and he had perfected his poker face to let anything slip. Still, that snake certainly didn’t come to the exchange thinking everything was going to go as agreed.
“I’m sorry you think so little of me.” Toh grinned as he stepped closer to his host, stopping just an inch away to make sure his next words could be felt on the other man’s lips. “I’ve come here for much, much more than that.”
“Is that why you’ve brought such a large audience?” Mikhail counted six of Toh’s men in the room. “I thought we’d agreed on four.” It being his territory, Toh had secured himself the right to string along his bodyguards, but the number just wasn’t right.
“The other two are here to escort your man to Fei Long’s cell, of course. I’m sure you have foreseen this,” the Chinese man said and glanced at Yoh from the corners of his eyes. “Is that him?”
“That’s the man.” He nodded.
“Very well.” Phillip Toh nodded to two of his men who promptly stationed themselves left and right of the new hostage, both with a gun in their hand. “Take him away. Search and scan for tracking devices at headquarters before taking him to the cell.”
“In a hurry, are we?” Mikhail commented with a smirk as he quickly exchanged a look with Yoh before they took him away. From then on, should one thing fail to go as planned, Fei Long would be dead. He knew this, and was glad Yoh seemed to know this too before they parted.
“I like to have my payment immediately upon delivery,” Toh reached out and played with the collar of the Russian’s black leather jacket. He had to admit that leather and Mikhail Arbatov were a pairing that could whet his appetite anytime.
Slowly, Mikhail reached for his phone and held it in front of the other man’s face. “Delivery is when I see him on screen with Fei Long. Now we wait.”
***
“Get off,” one of Toh’s men pushed him out of the chopper from behind. Yoh stumbled forward with his blindfold still wrapped tight around his head and both his wrists cuffed behind him. They had already taken him to a room, stripped him bare and scanned him for tracking devices. Luckily for them, the chip Mikhail had used had proven to be too advanced for standard scanners to detect. They flew him here afterwards in a helicopter - a place he estimated to be about half an hour away from the Cotai strip by air.
He blinked a few times to adjust to the light when the blindfold was removed. They were in front of an old, one-story building that seemed to have been abandoned for decades. It was surrounded 360 degrees by the sea and the strong waves that crashed loudly upon the cliffs as high as a two-story building. More than likely, Fei Long had been kept on an island just off the coast of Hong Kong or Macau to make sure he had nowhere to go should he escape from his cell. It was a good thing that they had decided to strike with a fighter jet, or else the window of escape would be too small for them both to come out alive having to cross the sea to get to the mainland.
There were 12, no 15, men armed with machine guns around the entrance to the building alone, and that was all that he was allowed to see. They took him inside and down a long corridor leading to a series of old, empty prison cells. At the end of the hall was an automatic metal door with a finger scan system that seemed, in every way, out of place given the severely dated surrounding. One of the men that escorted him used his thumb to scan and the door immediately opened. Inside was a locker room where they kept supplies for the prisoners as well as the guards. This had to be one of the secret prisons triad leaders and mafias used to keep and interrogate their hostages and traitors. Baishe had a few of these all over Hong Kong.
“Change.” They uncuffed him and tossed him a uniform - a pair of dark green cotton trousers and matching short-sleeve shirt that smelled like it had been worn by a dozen men and had never been washed. He put them on without delay, knowing the quicker he gets into the cell they were holding Fei Long, the faster they both could leave. He had guessed the moment he entered the locker room that it was behind that other metal door where another two armed men stood guard as if the prisoner could escape at any minute. Phillip Toh certainly wasn’t taking any chance, or perhaps it was Fei Long that had given him cause. He’d heard from a mole in Baishe that their former leader had tried to escape, almost successfully, more than once. Not that it had surprised him in any way.
Standing in front of the metal door, Yoh looked at his reflection and couldn’t help smiling a little. There he was, once again in a prisoner uniform, heading into a cell where Liu Fei Long of Baishe was. He could still remember it then, the way the man stood out from the crowd like someone who didn’t belong, even in the same filthy uniform and with his hair trimmed short. How he had pitied that man then, so powerful, so much potential, and yet so crippled with guilt and regret that he’d allowed himself to be locked up among scum. He knew nothing of the man then, no more than what was necessary for the job. “Watch him and let me know if he makes any move,” Asami Ryuichi had told him to do just that much, and he had understood the underlying message in that order. Fei Long was to be watched over, kept safe and alive. If his former boss had wanted him dead, it would have taken one simple command that he had executed more than a dozen of times before. Asami Ryuichi never had a problem ordering a hit, but the one thing he had always avoided at all costs was to give the world, his subordinates included, the idea that anyone or anything mattered to him enough to be used against him. Fei Long had never realized this, but the truth he’d needed to hear had already been revealed the moment his cover was blown. Asami did care. He had worked for the Japanese man for more than a decade to know this for certain, and for seven years he had kept it from Fei Long to keep his position at Baishe, when the truth would have set the man free from all this hatred years ago. Still, he had to wonder, would it set him free from the bond that Asami was so determined to cut?
The guard unlocked the door and slid it open. The room was dark and the air smelled like it had not been ventilated for years. There, on the same bed he had seen from the camera feed, Fei Long was laying on his side with his face to the wall, presumably sleeping.
“Go on,” one of the guards said as he pushed the new prisoner forward. “The boss said you could do whatever you like with him. Just make sure we get to see some action, yeah?”
Yoh turned to look at the man and memorized his face. The scum would be the first to go, and he’d make sure the man doesn’t end up pretty.
The door closed from behind him and still Fei Long didn’t stir. Yoh stepped closer to the bed, his heart skipping a few beats as he approached, fearing the worst. A well-trained assassin like Fei Long would have been awakened the moment that lock on the door was handled. Something just wasn’t right.
Before he realized what had happened, he was on the floor, face down with his right arm twisted behind his back and Fei Long’s knee pinning him down to the cold, hard floor. He immediately understood then, how the man wasn’t sleeping-- he was waiting for a chance to attack.
His arm was twisted harder, and this time Yoh groaned to the pain. It was the first time he had been attacked by Fei Long, and by gods, the man could have killed him in less time than he could say his own name.
It was that moment that Fei Long seemed to have recognized him and loosened his grip, even though he was still pinned to the ground. “Yoh?”
When he was certain, Fei Long lifted him off the ground and dragged him to the wall near the sink. Pushing Yoh’s face against the concrete with one hand around the back of his neck, his other hand kept his arm twisted behind him to make sure he was immobilized. “Keep your voice down.” The Baishe leader leaned forward close enough for Yoh to feel his breaths brushed harshly against his face. “Why are you here?”
The room had to be rigged with microphones, that much Yoh immediately realized. Fei Long must have spent his time scanning every inch of the cell to find the best way to escape and found a spot where he would least likely be seen or heard.
“Mikhail took the deal,” Yoh said in the softest whisper to make sure only Fei Long could hear. “I’m here to get you out. Save your strength. Stay away from the door.” He knew the aggression was for the show, but it was pretty clear the strength the Baishe leader exerted had a lot to do with his state of mind.
“How?” Fei Long tightened his grip. “When?”
Yoh looked up at the ceiling as a gesture. “Anytime now.”
Fei Long thought for a second, nodded and loosened his grip. For the first time in that cell, Yoh turned around and face him. The man was dressed in what he could only call rags, and on his face were bruises and cuts that made him nearly unrecognizable up close, and yet he was a sight that took his breath away momentarily. It was the first time he had wanted to laugh at his own foolishness. He had walked into this room, thinking that it would bring back memories of Fei Long when they had first met in prison, hoping that he would have another chance to start over again. But the man he once knew was nowhere to be found. It was obvious that there would be no second chance for him. Only one thing was on Fei Long’s mind and it was freedom, and his eyes only held room for one man - Mikhail Arbatov.
For the next 10 minutes, Fei Long paced back and forth in the room like a caged lion, mumbling something inaudible to himself. One might have thought that he was being impatient, but the tightness of those jaws told Yoh it was something far deeper than the need to escape. It didn’t surprise him. If there was one thing that Fei Long could never stand, it was the thought of someone he cared about being made to suffer because of him. As long as Mikhail was out there with Toh, there was no way Fei Long could possibly sit still.
And yet there was a certain calmness to him in that moment that seemed out of the ordinary. The usual Fei Long that he knew would have thrown a fit over the situation and filled his heart with guilt or regret. As furious as he was, that day his focus seemed to remain intact, if not sharper than usual. They say love can change a man better than anything. Somehow the change was painful for him to witness. Fei Long had become stronger, wiser, and more confident, when his existence had nothing to do with it. Nothing.
Just then, the Baishe leader shifted his glance to the ceiling. His acute sense of hearing had picked up a sound. "Are you ready?" He said, turning back to the other man in confirmation.
Yoh nodded. To die for Fei Long? Anytime.
The blast came seconds later. Yoh stood with both his arms spread out on the wall, shielding the one man he knew he was born to protect. He could sense everything with startling clarity - the debris that landed on his back and burned through the shirt onto his skin, the heat from the fire that erupted somewhere in the locker room, and the pungent smoke that filled his lungs shortly afterwards. For as long as he had worked in the field, it was the first time he had felt so alive, the first time he had such a clear vision of his mission.
A commotion could be heard clearly from outside. The door must have been successfully blasted through. Feodora's shot must have been remarkably precise, given the fact that both he and Fei Long were still standing mostly unharmed. But then again, he had not doubted her competence.
Fei Long was already by the door when the smoke began to clear, looking for the right opportunity to attack. In his hand was a metal bar that had been blown off from the door, or perhaps the shelves, he couldn't tell for certain. Only the first man that entered the cell was able to tell - when Fei Long gave him a taste of it. Yoh searched for another weapon from the wreckage and found another metal bar. It was a tad bit short, but it had to do for now. Fei Long had picked the best one possible in less time than he could adequately scan the room. Feodora was right, the only man who could get out of this place had already been in there days ago.
The first guard came through the blasted door and blindly fired a few rounds into the smoke. Before he could have anticipated how and where the attack was going to happen, Fei Long moved in and plunged the bar into the man's neck. It went through to the other side and was pulled back with the same speed. The ex-assassin grabbed the gun from the dead man and threw it towards him, making a gesture for him to stand guard on the opposite side of the door as he proceeded. He ran to position and waited for the next signal. The protocols came immediately back to him like it had been yesterday since they were fighting side by side. He was the shield, and Fei Long was the weapon. It was the way they used to work together after they had gotten out of prison, when Fei Long was just a man trying to take back what belonged to him, and he was still a trusted ally. After all these years Yoh had thought the memories of those times had been lost completely to the dragon. Apparently, Fei Long had remembered everything, down to their secret hand signals and the correct timing at which they remain in sync with each other during an attack.
At a signal from Fei Long, Yoh moved forward into the locker room and fired a few warning shots. Some movement responded. Fei Long leapt into the smoke and knocked someone over. The growl of pain that followed told Yoh another guard had fallen. The hissing sound from his former boss told him to press forward and clear the way. He proceeded and fired more rounds into the smoke, keeping his mind alert as to where Fei Long was at all times.
The room fell into complete silence after that, save for the sound of furniture burning in the fire near the blasted door. Fei Long sent a signal that the room was cleared and for him to proceed forward.
"There were four of them in here," Yoh whispered as he reached the man’s side. "You killed two."
"There are two more corpses by the door," Fei Long replied as he searched his last victim and found a knife and a half empty revolver. "Find a man with a working finger print or we won't get out of here."
Yoh nodded and quickly checked the corpses while Fei Long continued to search the room for more weapons. Overhead, the jet could still be heard circling around the island, only now it was accompanied by a series of shots being fired into the sky.
"Who's flying the jet?" Fei Long must have seen the worried look on his face when he looked up momentarily.
"Feodora."
The dragon bit his lips. "You let a pregnant woman fly that jet?"
This time Yoh had to give him a look. "Who was supposed to stop her? Mikhail?" Like that was ever going to happen. "Here, this one's hand should work." He flipped the body over on its back and began to drag it to the automatic door. They had no time to waste. Feodora was risking her life every minute she continued to circle the island.
"Put him down," Fei Long said impatiently as he stood over the body. "Move."
A shadow fell over his head. The next thing he knew he was staring at an axe that landed a few inches away from his fingers that he still had wrapped around the corpse's arms. He was wrong-- Fei Long’s lack of patience hadn’t improved one bit.
"Why the hell do they always put such a blunt axe with the fire extinguisher?" Another hurl on the axe was made to sever the hand completely off. "Grab that hand and find the right finger," he said as he yanked the axe off the ground and tossed it away. "We need more weapons."
"She will be dropping a case. I'm guessing the moment she sees us outside the building."
“Outside the building?” Fei Long paused to look at his former bodyguard and repeated. "You know they’re going to fucking kill us the moment we open this door?" There was a hint of humor in his tone as he spoke, as if by then nothing could scare or discourage him anymore. It didn’t surprise Yoh. Fei Long had always been much more relaxed on the field than in the office. He’d always figured that it was the only time when the man had a chance to release all that pent up anger and stress. Management wasn’t really his strength.
"That's what I'm here for," Yoh replied with a slight smile that was nearly unnoticeable. "Stay behind me, find that case, and no matter what happens, you get yourself out of here. Alive. Do you understand?"
Fei Long looked at him quietly for a minute, and then gave him a playful smile that Yoh hadn’t seen in a long time. "Weapons that fall from the sky, and a human shield of my own. How very Mikhail Arbatov," he positioned himself by the door, checking his weapons as he spoke. “If we survive this, remind me to get you a big raise.”
“I’d settle for a big kiss," Yoh replied with a shrug while his eyes remained focused on the gun he was checking. He had to admit, seeing Fei Long that way made him feel more humorous than usual. It wasn't what he would usually do, but considering the fact that he may turn into one of these corpses in the next five minutes or less, he might as well remove that stick from his backside for once.
"Now that would certainly get you killed." Fei Long snorted and turned his attention to the finger scan. "Shall we?"
Yoh nodded and pressed the dead man's thumb on the pad. A buzz sounded, signaling a scan failure. He wiped the blood off the thumb with his shirt and positioned it on the scan again.
"Wait," Fei Long said, reaching over for a handful of his collar and yanked him away from the pad to his direction.
The kiss was coarse, brief, and lacking in intimacy on every level. In Yoh's perspective it was downright brutal in whatever meaning it was meant to imply. Still, something in the way Fei Long looked at him then made it impossible for him to stay mad for very long.
"Consider that an advance payment," Fei Long grinned. "Don’t die out there. You don’t want unfinished business with me."
Considering what had happened to his first boss, he couldn’t agree more. "You just said it would make me a dead man."
"Who's gonna tell him? You?" The Baishe leader laughed. "Let's go."
***
A beep sounded. Phillip Toh picked the phone up from his pocket and checked his messages. "It seems your package has been delivered," he said, smiling at the man sitting across the table.
Mikhail placed his drink down and took out his phone to see the live feed. Apparently, Toh had kept his end of the promise. It had been almost an hour since Yoh had left the building. Most likely Feodora could get to wherever the man was in 15 minutes with the jet, more or less. She had been monitoring the cell and the signal on the tracking device since Toh had arrived and was probably already on the move as they spoke. If everything goes as planned, he shouldn't have to distract Toh for too long.
"Now, about that payment," Toh reminded his host, "I hope it’s worth the trouble."
"We shall see." He rose to his feet and headed to the bedroom, lighting a cigarette along the way. Keeping the door opened with one hand, he turned to the guest. "After you," Mikhail said with a not-so-subtle playfulness in this tone before he turned to the guards - his and Toh's. "Don't be alarmed if it gets a little rough in there, boys. I am not known for subtlety."
"Don't worry," Toh said as he walked by the other man into the bedroom. "My men know I can handle three of you." The Liu brothers may be a bit of a handful, but a clumsy big Russian like Arbatov wouldn't last five minutes if the man was dumb enough to fight him. Besides, thanks to the host who overdoes everything, the room, as he immediately noticed, was sound proof to the extent of a professional theatre. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing to worry about, not on his end anyway.
Mikhail sneered openly at the egotistic remarks and allowed it to slip from his attention. He needed to keep his cool to not blow the plan to pieces. Soon enough Fei Long would be on his way to safety. Everything else could be dealt with later. He closed the door and turned the lock. Nothing would leave or enter the room until all was done.
When he turned around, Phillip Toh was standing right in front of him, no more than an arm's length away. "Calm down," he told the man with a seductive grin. "We have all the time in the world."
As soon as he finished the sentence, his jaw was busted in by something hard that was too quick for him to see or dodge. He quickly raised both his arms in defense as his back crashed hard against the wall, only to find himself being kneed in the stomach before he could see it coming. The man punched him again and as Mikhail swayed, he was slammed face down on the floor. Fuck. He cursed in his mind as he realized he had been successfully disarmed. The man was too fast, too precise, and too good at this for him to even have a chance to defend himself. "You son of a bitch," Mikhail growled, for some part over the pain, but mostly for his own stupidity and carelessness.
"I'm afraid you have me mistaken with your lover," Toh said as he positioned himself on the other man's back, pinning down his opponent with his knee. He tugged the rope around his ponytail free, and began to tie both the Russians wrists behind his back, securing them with a dead knot he had perfected as a child.
"Do you really think," Toh leaned closer to his newly acquired captive and whispered near the golden curls that had become disordered from the attack, "that I would allow you to take control over me, and risk everything I've worked so hard for for decades, hmm?" It had taken him years of planning to finally get his hands on his little brother. it was foolish to think he would allow his physical desires to ruin it.
Toh yanked the man back on his feet by the hair, and forced him to sit down on the daybed nearby. Picking up the fallen black cigarette from the floor, he sucked in a long, steady breath through the joint and exhaled in obvious satisfaction. "I must admit-- your taste is very impressive," Toh said as he looked around the room that looked like it came from a cutting edge interior design magazine. "Bold, daring, extravagant, and bordering on madness, right down to the cigarette you smoke."
"And that's exactly what you're missing," Mikhail sneered at the Chinese man as he licked the blood off his upper lip. Keep your cool just a few minutes longer, he told himself, even though the combination of tasting his blood and being tied up was beginning to disturb him far too much for his tastes. "I thought you wanted to have some fun."
Toh smiled and made a soft hum in his throat. "Now you're the one in a hurry," he said, trailing a hand down from the Russian's collarbone to the middle of his chest, undoing the buttons along the way. "I know you're planning something, and until I find out the fun will have to wait. Didn't you just say we have all the time the world?"
Perhaps it was the pain he still felt from the attack, or maybe it was the anxiety that his plans may have backfired, but something was making it difficult for him to respond the way he usually would. He told himself it was probably one of the two, but the way his skin crawled at the man's touch was simply hatred for what he had done to Fei Long.
"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" He took a puff on the cigarette and held it between his fingers. "Although you do look a little pale. Did I hit you a little too hard, or does this bring back a certain," he paused and leaned forward, close enough to feel the man's uneven breathing on his cheek, "memory?"
Mikhail jolted back violently as the cigarette burned the skin on his chest. Something hard that had been growing in his throat had kept him from making a sound. His body had turned stiff from his fingertips to his toes. It was a symptom he had experienced before, only he could not quite place when or where it happened. Whatever it was, it must have also affected his tolerance for pain. It was just a damn cigarette, why did it sting like someone had poked him with a hot iron?
"You're shaking." Toh traced his eyes on the outline of the strong, broad shoulders that began to tremble a little. "Why? Did it remind you of how you got those scars? How old were you then? 16? 14?" He had read it in a file somewhere-- how the man had gone through therapy, drug addiction, detoxification and rehab as a result of that event. It was one of the reasons why the Russian had caught and secured his attention. Someone like him would know pain and understand it. They belonged to the same group of people - people who managed to survive despite a wretched past, and survive in flying colors. The man needed to be reminded of this fact, that he was stronger and more valuable than his half brother.
“I heard he was your uncle. That must be hard.” He stepped closer and rested his knees on the daybed, straddling himself over his prize. With one hand on the man’s chest, the other lifting his chin up to meet his eyes, Toh smiled and said in a whisper, “Tell me, what did he make you do? Did he make you suck him off? Was he rough? Gentle? Forceful?”
“Get the fuck away from me!” Mikhail cursed as he tried to struggle free from bondage, only to find himself being pinned harder into the cushion by Toh. Was the man that much stronger than he looked, or had he lost the control over his own strength just listening to those words?
A cell phone rang and Mikhail’s heart felt suddenly lighter at the sound he had been waiting for. That was his big break. Feodora must have already started the attack. “Maybe you should pick up that call.”
Toh paused and looked at him as he reached for the phone in his pocket. Whoever was on the other end must have fired the information before the man had a chance to say hello, and from the look on Toh’s face, things probably weren’t going so well for them. Still, he had expected a more extreme reaction. The man was much too calm for his liking.
“I don’t care what you do, keep the situation under control,” he commanded in a steady yet forceful tone. “If he escapes, I will make sure your wife and son pay for your mistake. Do not fail me.”
Hanging up the phone, Toh rose to his feet and stood at an arm’s length away, his eyes still fixed intensely on the Russian. From the way his chest heaved harshly up and down, Mikhail knew that whatever happened had raised his anger despite the calm and collected appearance. He stood still for a moment, as if he was trying to keep his emotions under control, before slowly undoing the leather belt at his waist and slipped it free. It was a gesture Mikhail recognized on instinct, backed by the way his body immediately froze from limb to limb.
He shut his eyes on reflex at the first strike that landed on his cheek. Had it been a whip it would have cut deep into his skin and left a scar. The next one came not so far apart, but seemed to have accumulated in strength. The next ones came faster and heavier, digging at his skin with the sound that rang like lightning in his head, stripping away his sanity each time it struck. The sting surged through his skin like an electrical current that kept on growing stronger. He could feel himself trembling as the smell of his own blood brought back the crave for needles that usually ended his suffering. Hold on a little longer, he told himself in his mind. All this would be over the moment his phone rang.
He could hardly feel his own skin by the time it had ceased, and Toh was standing in front of him panting heavily from the exertion. Just then a familiar ring sounded from his phone, Mikhail closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he began to laugh. “That would be my wife,” he said, sneering at the man still standing above him. “I told her to call once he’s safely escaped. It appears that your fun is over.”
Toh stilled for a moment, and Mikhail prepared himself for the next episode of beating. It didn’t matter now. Fei Long had made it; everything else would be meaningless from that point on. As far as he was concerned, the mission had been accomplished.
It was when the man began to laugh that made him reconsider his previous statement. It would have been better had it sounded hysterical, but the look on Toh’s face told him he had yet another card to play.
“That may be so,” he said as he wrapped the belt tightly around his hand, as if it was giving him comfort. “But you seem to forget that you’re the one being tied up with me holding the other end of the rope. The real fun, in my opinion, is about to begin.”
Mikhail laughed openly at the remark. The man must have been really out of his mind. “This is my casino, my territory. You kill me and you’ll never walk out of here alive. Unless, of course, your idea of fun is to join me in hell. We can certainly continue this down there.” Whether he ends up dead or alive, one thing he would make certain of is that Fei Long will have the man’s head served to him on a silver plate that day. It would be his last gift to the love of his life, the most elaborate one for that matter.
“That’s one way to look at it,” Toh said as he reached his hand down the pocket of his hostage’s trousers and slipped out the phone that was still ringing unanswered. “I wonder, though, what Fei Long has to say about that?”
Mikhail took a deep breath and tried to rise once more in hopes of stopping the phone from being answered. Toh responded by kneeing him again in the stomach, and this time he wound the belt tight around Mikhail’s throat, fastening it just enough for him to remain silent. “Stay, and find out how much your lover loves you,” he said and picked up the call.
***
A/N So there are two ways I can go about this, the short one and end this in the next two or three chapters, or would you guys prefer that I go the long way (and stick with me for a year longer? LOL). I've missed talking to everyone so much, please comment so I can see Fei fans again! That will certainly take the stress off work. *hugs*