FIC: In the Arms of the Wicked, 30/36 (Ian/OMC, David, Colby, OCs, PG-13)
Title: "Traitor Club"
Series: In the Arms of the Wicked, Part 30/36
Characters: Ian/OMC, David, Colby, OCs.
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None.
Summary: Ian gets to see how the traitor club works. Who will betray who?
Disclaimer: I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.
Beta: The fantastic twins_m0m and the great lillyg.
Previous chapters: Click here.
Previous chapter
Next chapter
30: Traitor Club
Dragged to a new room, Ian felt his muscles clench. He still hadn’t fully recovered from that damn sangría and that pathetic whip. His legs hit the ground as the bodyguard dressed in brown dumped him in the place where apparently someone wanted to keep an eye on them.
Behind him, he could hear Farrow’s heavy breathing as another bodyguard made him follow the same path. The third man in brown came in behind him and closed the door.
As soon as they entered the room, a woman dressed in black and wearing a mask looked up at them from a pile of papers. Ian recognized her immediately - the red hair, the moves. It was Lillian, but he didn’t say anything, not wanting to raise suspicions.
The third bodyguard left his spot from behind Farrow and went to confront the lady, who he seemed to not recognize. Ian tried to fight his own guard, but his body wasn’t responding. Exhausted, he watched how Lillian’s mask was thrown to the floor and how she was forced to leave the cell phone on the desk.
“Ma’am…” the tall, muscular man said, grabbing her wrist with one hand and the device with the other. “This is our Leader’s personal cell phone.” She tried to free herself, but he was obviously much more powerful than her. “Who were you calling?”
As the man started to search through the list of last calls, Sergio opened the door and walked in. Passing Farrow by, he didn’t even look at him; Ian sensed a slight bit of regret.
Sergio approached Lillian and with a quick move, he snatched the cell phone from the bodyguard’s hand. “I’ll take it from here,” he told him, then he looked at the woman Farrow used to call his “personal Egyptian goddess.” His fingers touched the cell phone, looking for the last call and his eyes suddenly narrowed with anger. “911!”
“You touch her and you’re dead.” Ian couldn’t do anything, he could barely move. Ignoring his words, Sergio cupped Lillian’s face roughly, almost hurting her.
“God, no… This is not about her, Sergio! This is about you, me and the Leader!” Farrow suddenly said from behind Ian.
His butler didn’t listen; he stepped very close to her face and spoke coldly. “Listen to me. This is not a game.” He was squeezing her face in a way more brutal than Ian imagined he would. The person that now stood in front of him, displaying such repressed cruelty, wasn’t the same one he’d met as Farrow’s butler and friend. “You had to step in, didn’t you? You had to ruin everything.”
The victim of his anger wasn’t afraid at all. In fact, Lillian seemed quite enraged herself. “What, did you think I was just going to let you hurt everyone? I know you, Sergio, and you were never very smart. You've never made long-term plans. You should have thought about the consequences of becoming a traitor!” With that, she pulled herself away from Sergio.
“What did you just…?”
“Lilly! Why the hell did you risk yourself? What on earth are you doing here?” Farrow said, interrupting Sergio.
Very annoyed by Farrow's question, she responded, “What the hell am I doing? I’m saving your bloody ass!”
“Ha, I thought that was my part,” Ian commented, remembering his last conversation with Farrow.
Sergio didn’t find Ian's comment amusing at all. He came closer to Ian and yelled, “Do you think that’s funny?” He was so near that he was spitting into the sniper’s face. “Do you honestly believe you…”
“Save me the speech, Sergio,” the Leader interrupted him. He strolled in carrying a transparent crystal glass filled with wine. On his hand, his ruby ring glimmered in full display. As soon as he saw Lillian, he snapped, “Oh, well… I certainly wasn’t expecting this from you, Lillian…” He walked up to her and slowly ran a hand over her cheek.
That got him a glare from her, as well as an insult. “Bastard, when…”
“Really, aren’t you too old to use your mouth like an adolescent? I though that all your work and intellect would have provided you a more complex, elaborated vocabulary. Why can’t you just be the kind, old lady next door?” Smiling, the Leader got even closer to her. “I have to admit that you’re brave, though. Coming back here after our little chat on the phone wasn’t what I had in mind. But then again, stealing antiques from us wasn’t your smartest move.”
“When the FBI…”
“I should have known that you’d bring trouble into our lovely organization. I should have never asked you to join… But where was that head of mine back then?” Playfully, he caressed her arm.
His ruby ring shone from time to time when light hit it directly. Watching it, watching the man that owned it, Ian couldn’t help but answer his question. “Back then, you were selling your cult’s antiques in the black market. You haven’t stopped since.”
With elegant manners, the Leader turned to him. “Ah, of course. I haven’t forgotten about you. Agent Edgerton, right?” He went towards the sniper and knelt beside him. Ian hated the way the son of a bitch analyzed his sweaty face from behind his mask with almost admiration. But what really bothered him were his ironic gestures. Unexpectedly, the Leader offered his hand to him. “Nice to meet you…” They stared at each other for a second; the hand didn’t retreat. “Aren’t you going to shake my hand? See, I haven’t forgotten that you don’t have much energy right now. But still, it seems to me that you’re not a very polite person. Greetings are important, did you know that?” Lazily, he ran a finger over Ian’s arm, like he enjoyed the sweat that covered his skin. “Well done on the sangría, by the way,” he told Sergio, getting up.
Running a hand through his hair, Sergio seemed a bit agitated, probably because Lillian was keeping her eyes on him. He had backed away from the group and now stood beside the cupboard that was on the wall on the other side of the room.
“And you…” It seemed that the Leader had found another person to talk to, which didn’t surprise Ian. He was waiting for this moment to come, to hear him talk to Farrow. He wanted to check to see if the archeologist’s latest version of the story was true.
Breathing hard, Farrow talked through gritted teeth. “I don’t give a damn what you have to say.”
Idiot, do you need to be a showoff right now? Ian shook his head, trying to find a way to keep the situation under control. He knew that once Farrow started to go with the flow, he was hard to stop.
The Leader wasn’t amused. “I don’t think you’re in a position to decide whether to hear me or not, Christopher. This is a done deal. I told you to shut that big mouth of yours but no, you had to do things your way. Did you and Lillian have some kind of accident? Because honestly, I'm surprised by your stupidity to keep fighting against me.” He took a sip from his glass of wine. “But luckily, that fault can be fixed. If getting rid of Louis and Richard didn’t work, then I think we’re going to nip the problem in the bud.”
“What? No!” Lillian yelled, desperate. She obviously didn’t know about Richard.
He turned to Sergio and extended his hand. “Pass me the vodka.” The butler took it out of the cupboard and passed it to him. After putting his glass of wine down, the Leader opened the bottle of vodka and drank some. When his eyes finally lay on the desk, he emptied the contents of the vodka bottle over it. When he took out a cigar from his pocket and lighted it, his intentions became clear.
Ian immediately noticed that it wasn’t part of the plan, as Sergio said, “What are you going to do?”
The answer was, “Give me my gun.”
Sergio walked backwards and stopped before his back hit the cupboard. “No. No. You’re going to kill them and then burn the place.”
The Leader finally stopped ignoring Sergio. He removed the cigar from his mouth and blew smoke out slowly. “Of course I am. Isn’t this scenario obvious enough for you?”
“We were going to get away with the money without killing them!” Sergio yelled. He’d started sweating, and his face was flushed.
“Oh, my God, I’ve hired an idiot,” the Leader grumbled. “The situation has changed! It requires a couple of surprising events. These people have seen too much, just like the stupid witnesses in violent, American movies.”
“There’s no reason to do this.”
“Please, you killed that bodyguard with that bomb, don’t talk to me about morals, okay?”
“It was an accident! It wasn’t supposed to turn out that way. He was my friend.” Sergio’s eyes were red. He was definitely losing his nerve, no matter whether he was telling the truth or not.
“Yeah, right. Save it, Sergio.” Annoyed, the Leader turned to Ian, turning his back to the butler. But Sergio spoke again.
“You’re not going to leave me here, are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“When do we leave?”
There was silence. The Leader then responded, “You mean, when do I leave? Considering that the FBI or the Police will be here soon, I don’t have much time.” He let more smoke billow out of his mouth. “Are you going to tell me you thought for a moment you were coming with me?”
Sergio was broken. “What?”
“You had your part of the deal. You got your millions and you had your fun out there. Now I’m getting out of this country with the people I trust, and you’re not one of them. Is that clear enough, or do I have to write it down for you?”
Trembling, desperate, Sergio swallowed. “No.”
The Leader played with his cigar, holding it up in the air, right above the desk covered in vodka. “I don’t think so.” He turned his back to the butler again, and told the bodyguards, “When the fire starts, we’ll get away from here.” Finally, he looked at Lillian and Farrow. “Bon Voyage.”
Even if he was focused on the cigar the blonde man kept holding up high, Ian didn’t miss that Sergio was opening the cupboard again. He was looking for something, and suddenly Ian realized that it was the gun the Leader had asked him for. “Get down!” he yelled right before the shot. Everyone ducked to cover themselves.
The bullet entered the Leader’s back and he stumbled a bit until he landed on the desk with his cigar. The desk was instantly on fire.
“FBI! Hands up, now!” David shouted, rushing in with Colby and a group of Phoenix agents behind him.
“Now, now, now!”
Series: In the Arms of the Wicked, Part 30/36
Characters: Ian/OMC, David, Colby, OCs.
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None.
Summary: Ian gets to see how the traitor club works. Who will betray who?
Disclaimer: I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.
Beta: The fantastic twins_m0m and the great lillyg.
Previous chapters: Click here.
Previous chapter
Next chapter
30: Traitor Club
Dragged to a new room, Ian felt his muscles clench. He still hadn’t fully recovered from that damn sangría and that pathetic whip. His legs hit the ground as the bodyguard dressed in brown dumped him in the place where apparently someone wanted to keep an eye on them.
Behind him, he could hear Farrow’s heavy breathing as another bodyguard made him follow the same path. The third man in brown came in behind him and closed the door.
As soon as they entered the room, a woman dressed in black and wearing a mask looked up at them from a pile of papers. Ian recognized her immediately - the red hair, the moves. It was Lillian, but he didn’t say anything, not wanting to raise suspicions.
The third bodyguard left his spot from behind Farrow and went to confront the lady, who he seemed to not recognize. Ian tried to fight his own guard, but his body wasn’t responding. Exhausted, he watched how Lillian’s mask was thrown to the floor and how she was forced to leave the cell phone on the desk.
“Ma’am…” the tall, muscular man said, grabbing her wrist with one hand and the device with the other. “This is our Leader’s personal cell phone.” She tried to free herself, but he was obviously much more powerful than her. “Who were you calling?”
As the man started to search through the list of last calls, Sergio opened the door and walked in. Passing Farrow by, he didn’t even look at him; Ian sensed a slight bit of regret.
Sergio approached Lillian and with a quick move, he snatched the cell phone from the bodyguard’s hand. “I’ll take it from here,” he told him, then he looked at the woman Farrow used to call his “personal Egyptian goddess.” His fingers touched the cell phone, looking for the last call and his eyes suddenly narrowed with anger. “911!”
“You touch her and you’re dead.” Ian couldn’t do anything, he could barely move. Ignoring his words, Sergio cupped Lillian’s face roughly, almost hurting her.
“God, no… This is not about her, Sergio! This is about you, me and the Leader!” Farrow suddenly said from behind Ian.
His butler didn’t listen; he stepped very close to her face and spoke coldly. “Listen to me. This is not a game.” He was squeezing her face in a way more brutal than Ian imagined he would. The person that now stood in front of him, displaying such repressed cruelty, wasn’t the same one he’d met as Farrow’s butler and friend. “You had to step in, didn’t you? You had to ruin everything.”
The victim of his anger wasn’t afraid at all. In fact, Lillian seemed quite enraged herself. “What, did you think I was just going to let you hurt everyone? I know you, Sergio, and you were never very smart. You've never made long-term plans. You should have thought about the consequences of becoming a traitor!” With that, she pulled herself away from Sergio.
“What did you just…?”
“Lilly! Why the hell did you risk yourself? What on earth are you doing here?” Farrow said, interrupting Sergio.
Very annoyed by Farrow's question, she responded, “What the hell am I doing? I’m saving your bloody ass!”
“Ha, I thought that was my part,” Ian commented, remembering his last conversation with Farrow.
Sergio didn’t find Ian's comment amusing at all. He came closer to Ian and yelled, “Do you think that’s funny?” He was so near that he was spitting into the sniper’s face. “Do you honestly believe you…”
“Save me the speech, Sergio,” the Leader interrupted him. He strolled in carrying a transparent crystal glass filled with wine. On his hand, his ruby ring glimmered in full display. As soon as he saw Lillian, he snapped, “Oh, well… I certainly wasn’t expecting this from you, Lillian…” He walked up to her and slowly ran a hand over her cheek.
That got him a glare from her, as well as an insult. “Bastard, when…”
“Really, aren’t you too old to use your mouth like an adolescent? I though that all your work and intellect would have provided you a more complex, elaborated vocabulary. Why can’t you just be the kind, old lady next door?” Smiling, the Leader got even closer to her. “I have to admit that you’re brave, though. Coming back here after our little chat on the phone wasn’t what I had in mind. But then again, stealing antiques from us wasn’t your smartest move.”
“When the FBI…”
“I should have known that you’d bring trouble into our lovely organization. I should have never asked you to join… But where was that head of mine back then?” Playfully, he caressed her arm.
His ruby ring shone from time to time when light hit it directly. Watching it, watching the man that owned it, Ian couldn’t help but answer his question. “Back then, you were selling your cult’s antiques in the black market. You haven’t stopped since.”
With elegant manners, the Leader turned to him. “Ah, of course. I haven’t forgotten about you. Agent Edgerton, right?” He went towards the sniper and knelt beside him. Ian hated the way the son of a bitch analyzed his sweaty face from behind his mask with almost admiration. But what really bothered him were his ironic gestures. Unexpectedly, the Leader offered his hand to him. “Nice to meet you…” They stared at each other for a second; the hand didn’t retreat. “Aren’t you going to shake my hand? See, I haven’t forgotten that you don’t have much energy right now. But still, it seems to me that you’re not a very polite person. Greetings are important, did you know that?” Lazily, he ran a finger over Ian’s arm, like he enjoyed the sweat that covered his skin. “Well done on the sangría, by the way,” he told Sergio, getting up.
Running a hand through his hair, Sergio seemed a bit agitated, probably because Lillian was keeping her eyes on him. He had backed away from the group and now stood beside the cupboard that was on the wall on the other side of the room.
“And you…” It seemed that the Leader had found another person to talk to, which didn’t surprise Ian. He was waiting for this moment to come, to hear him talk to Farrow. He wanted to check to see if the archeologist’s latest version of the story was true.
Breathing hard, Farrow talked through gritted teeth. “I don’t give a damn what you have to say.”
Idiot, do you need to be a showoff right now? Ian shook his head, trying to find a way to keep the situation under control. He knew that once Farrow started to go with the flow, he was hard to stop.
The Leader wasn’t amused. “I don’t think you’re in a position to decide whether to hear me or not, Christopher. This is a done deal. I told you to shut that big mouth of yours but no, you had to do things your way. Did you and Lillian have some kind of accident? Because honestly, I'm surprised by your stupidity to keep fighting against me.” He took a sip from his glass of wine. “But luckily, that fault can be fixed. If getting rid of Louis and Richard didn’t work, then I think we’re going to nip the problem in the bud.”
“What? No!” Lillian yelled, desperate. She obviously didn’t know about Richard.
He turned to Sergio and extended his hand. “Pass me the vodka.” The butler took it out of the cupboard and passed it to him. After putting his glass of wine down, the Leader opened the bottle of vodka and drank some. When his eyes finally lay on the desk, he emptied the contents of the vodka bottle over it. When he took out a cigar from his pocket and lighted it, his intentions became clear.
Ian immediately noticed that it wasn’t part of the plan, as Sergio said, “What are you going to do?”
The answer was, “Give me my gun.”
Sergio walked backwards and stopped before his back hit the cupboard. “No. No. You’re going to kill them and then burn the place.”
The Leader finally stopped ignoring Sergio. He removed the cigar from his mouth and blew smoke out slowly. “Of course I am. Isn’t this scenario obvious enough for you?”
“We were going to get away with the money without killing them!” Sergio yelled. He’d started sweating, and his face was flushed.
“Oh, my God, I’ve hired an idiot,” the Leader grumbled. “The situation has changed! It requires a couple of surprising events. These people have seen too much, just like the stupid witnesses in violent, American movies.”
“There’s no reason to do this.”
“Please, you killed that bodyguard with that bomb, don’t talk to me about morals, okay?”
“It was an accident! It wasn’t supposed to turn out that way. He was my friend.” Sergio’s eyes were red. He was definitely losing his nerve, no matter whether he was telling the truth or not.
“Yeah, right. Save it, Sergio.” Annoyed, the Leader turned to Ian, turning his back to the butler. But Sergio spoke again.
“You’re not going to leave me here, are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“When do we leave?”
There was silence. The Leader then responded, “You mean, when do I leave? Considering that the FBI or the Police will be here soon, I don’t have much time.” He let more smoke billow out of his mouth. “Are you going to tell me you thought for a moment you were coming with me?”
Sergio was broken. “What?”
“You had your part of the deal. You got your millions and you had your fun out there. Now I’m getting out of this country with the people I trust, and you’re not one of them. Is that clear enough, or do I have to write it down for you?”
Trembling, desperate, Sergio swallowed. “No.”
The Leader played with his cigar, holding it up in the air, right above the desk covered in vodka. “I don’t think so.” He turned his back to the butler again, and told the bodyguards, “When the fire starts, we’ll get away from here.” Finally, he looked at Lillian and Farrow. “Bon Voyage.”
Even if he was focused on the cigar the blonde man kept holding up high, Ian didn’t miss that Sergio was opening the cupboard again. He was looking for something, and suddenly Ian realized that it was the gun the Leader had asked him for. “Get down!” he yelled right before the shot. Everyone ducked to cover themselves.
The bullet entered the Leader’s back and he stumbled a bit until he landed on the desk with his cigar. The desk was instantly on fire.
“FBI! Hands up, now!” David shouted, rushing in with Colby and a group of Phoenix agents behind him.
“Now, now, now!”