🔓 - a kidnapped @stxtic-prince being held hostage?
John Laurens, A.k.a. “Thunder” was rushed into the briefing room. He looked up and saw the Commander, Washington. John could practically choke on the tension that filled the room as soon as the door closed behind him. “Hey, G. Wash.” He tried to joke, but Washington still looked awful. He wondered if it was the two jobs he worked that was finally getting to him. A deep sigh filled the room before Washington cleared his throat. John seemed to stand up a bit straighter at that, full alert, “I need your help. It’s a special mission. I’m sending you and Herc.” He started off. “Why just the two of us? And why is it special?” John questioned with furrowed brows. “Because you will be saving someone very close and dear to me. I see him as a son even though he isn’t.” He explained. John’s eyes widened as he remembered. “You mean the guy who gets upset when you call him son.?” He inquired. He regretted asking as soon as he took one look at Washington. He saw a paper with all of the info he would need to help him and Herc find their way to save this person. “We’ll bring him back, Sir.” John promised as he picked up the paper and walked out. Washington let a tear finally escape as the door shut behind John. “Please do.” He whispered.
Hercules was sitting outside in the getaway car with all the weapons. John silently got in and soon they were off. Herc already knew where to go so John assumed Washington had already told him what was going on. They parked outside of, what looked to be, an abandoned warehouse. “No originality.” Herc observed and john chuckled. Herc and John always made jokes before they went into a dangerous situation. Neither of them were afraid. Herc was the more cautious of the duo though. He, Washington and Lafayette always worried about John. On his very first rescue he had gotten shot in the shoulder when he tried to fight the shooter. Lafayette literally reported back to Washington and said that he didn’t know How John lived with Just the bullet wound in his right shoulder. They all wondered if he lived for the thrill. Herc always joked and said that John would be the first to die out of the trio. He always seemed to try to protect the younger man as much as he possibly could. “Thunder, here.” Herc stated as he jumped out and pulled out John’s dual pistols and two extra rounds of bullets. Herc picked up his revolver and hid it before picking up his favorite shotgun. John put the extra rounds in his ammo pockets before holding the two guns in his hands. Herc put his hand on John’s shoulder before sighing. “I know you don’t want to hear this again, but please, please be more cautious in here.” He whispered. “Bear, I can try, but I’m only worried about the guy that’s in there right now.” John stated before cocking both of his guns at the same time. Herc sighed before they turned around to figure out how to enter.
“I’ll take left side.” John announced before he quickly, but silently, made his way to the wall. He crouched all the way around before making his way to the back. He peaked into a window and widened his eyes. There was a guy who was tied to one f the support beams. John quickly aimed his gun at a sound that came from beside him. He sighed before relaxing as he saw it was Hercules. John pointed to the window that they were now crouched beneath. Herc looked before nodding. He signaled for John to follow him as they made their way to the edge of the back wall and Her stopped at the last window. “Bathroom.” He whispered. John nodded before checking and once he saw it was clear he quietly got in through the window. He fast-walked over to the entrance with his back to the wall. He leaned over to look out of the tiny crack since the door wasn’t completely closed. He saw two guys talking to each other and saw three guys who seemed to be gathered around a table looking at some sort of paper. He knew there was more somewhere. No one in their right mind would do a kidnapping and hold a ransom without a big crew. He looked over at the guy that was tied to the beam and made eye contact with him. His eyes widened before we shook his head and put his finger up to his mouth.
Tim was tired. Far, far too tired. He hadn’t known what he’d done to deserve this. His hands were bound to a beam, and though he couldn’t see it, he could feel how cold and uncomfortable it was, and frankly, it was clear the universe wasn’t doing him any favors in this scenario. Tim hadn’t expected to wake up in the middle of the night three days ago to tall, dark silhouettes standing over him. He hadn’t expected the hand to be clasped over his mouth, the barrel of a gun pushed against his skull. He hadn’t expected to be ushered into the back of a black van, told to keep quiet, and shoved against the floor as two men closed the doors, flooding the area in total darkness. At some point during the long and bumpy ride, he’d been knocked out by one of them.
When he awoke, he was in a cold room, and pain was sharp and searing in his head. A gag was in his mouth, but through hazy vision, he could see a taller individual with curly black hair. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he understood the gist of what it meant. He’d done something, or maybe someone else had, to make this particular person angry. The person before him was hired - or was at least some sort of agent? - of the person he’d made angry (or someone else had?). And this was a punishment, to whoever had pissed that person off. He thought maybe that was the end of it, but unfortunately, he was wrong. Over the course of the past three days, he’d been visited numerous times in the very large and open room he was kept in. None of these were particularly good visits. They all involved a lot of…. violence, to say the least. They’d broken bones on the man that he hadn’t even known were possible to break. He felt just as broken as he looked, too.
He hadn’t expected anyone to come to his aid. In fact, he’d given up on it on day two. He had lost his hope. Tim fully expected to die in that very large room, having never known why he was taken, nor what they’d hoped to achieve by torturing him. Yet, on the fourth day, he managed to look up through half-lidded eyes, hungry and tired and so ready to give in, and he saw someone new looking back at him. He blinked a few times, taking in what he assumed to be a hallucination. Brown skin, freckled face, curly brown hair tied back into a ponytail. Their eyes widened, and then a singular finger rose to their mouth, shushing him. Tim made no outward gesture of understanding, but tilted his head away and closed his eyes. Everything hurt. His hands ached, the rope burn around his wrists ached, every new bruise and broken bone sent pain both dull and sharp through him with every breath. He wasn’t about to believe that there was someone to rescue him. Tim couldn’t. He knew he was near the end of his life, and if anything, that was some sort of savior he hadn’t ever believed in, coming to lead him into the sweet, dark embrace of death.
John held both of his pistols in his hands tightly. He took a deep breath as he looked back to the first two who stood guarding. He narrowed his eyes at the two before leaning out of the door just enough to aim his pistols at them. “Herc, if I die in this you better take care of my animals.” John thought to himself. John bit back the fear before he put his finger on the trigger. John gritted his teeth as he felt the adrenaline course throughout his body before he pulled both of the triggers. Loud bangs filled both of his ears. His eyes focused on the two bodies that now crumpled to the floor. He looked up at the table with the big group and widened his eyes as he got back in cover.
All of the people who were once focused on something on the table were now aiming directly at him. “Who are you?!” He heard one with a country accent say. John answered by leaning out and shooting. He heard it hit one but didn’t see who cause he went back into cover again. He got cocky and leaned out again with his right arm. He pulled the trigger as soon as someone else did. They locked eyes for a split second. He seemed to be the leader of this gang. John screamed out as a sharp pain shot through his right shoulder. He clenched his teeth together as he put his back up against the wall and held his shoulder. He looked down at the ground and saw his right pistol which he must’ve dropped when he was shot. He looked over to the guy he was trying to resue and saw the fear in his eyes.
