Hate or Love?

Chapter Thirteen

When he'd been taken from the plane, Andreas knew his whole plan was fucked. Right then and there. He was just lucky they'd let him write a note to Quinn. They spoke little to no english, thank god, so he was able to write a note without being monitored. He left it in the cockpit, on the seat, and he was taken away. He could only pray she'd find it, and she'd find him. God knows where the hell he was being taken. A bag was pulled over his head, and his hands were zip tied together. The zip ties were too tight on his wrists, and the bag felt like it was suffocating him. He was thrown in a truck bed, and then there was a bumpy ride. His back was up against someone's shins, so it meant he wasn't alone back there, but he was still terrified.

"So, how long is this going to take? Because I was kind of in the middle of something." Andreas joked, wondering if any of them understood him. If they did, they showed no indication of comprehension, and instead kicked him hard in the ribs. He grunted, wincing at the contact. But, he needed something to distract him from his current situation, so he kept talking.

"Ow, seriously, you guys are assholes. No hospitality at all." he shook his head, earning a kick to the chest this time, and he wheezed a little, wincing.

"Come on, am I at least going to get some bread and water or something?" he questioned, and they kicked him in the face this time. That one hurt a lot more than the others, and he felt blood dripping from his nose. Of course he was bleeding, as if it couldn't get any better for him. He coughed a little, rolling from his side to his back.

"The bag is kind of excessive, honestly-" he was cut off by a foot crushing his throat, and he gasped, squirming desperately trying to get away from the invisible foot squeezing his windpipe. They let him sit like that for a moment before letting him go. The rest of the ride was quiet.

When they got to wherever they were going, he was dragged out of the truck and through numerous hallways. He could only watch as the floor under him - never changing - passed under dim lights and through doors. Finally, he was deposited in a bathtub, his hands strapped down but his legs left free. Well, he'd make sure that would be their problem at some point. The bag was removed by someone he couldn't see, and the lights were so goddamn blinding. He squeezed his eyes shut, squinting against the assault on his eyes as he tried to focus on the person at the other end of the bathtub.

"Hello, Mr. Kagios." the voice was unfamiliar, and it was making him a little nervous. He pulled at his useless hands, trying to block the light. It was pointed directly at him, and it was annoying him now. Finally, his eyes adjusted, and the man standing before him was none other than Barrett Ryder. His target's father.

"Oh.. fuck me." Andreas let his head fall back on the rim of the bathtub, closing his eyes.

"I'd watch your mouth if I were you, Mr. Kagios." a familiar British accent cut in, and Andreas' eyes went wide. He sat up straight, eyes adjusting faster this time as the older man walked in the room. He strode in, standing beside the other man at Andreas' feet.

"What... you told me to... what's going on?" Andreas felt his heart rate speed up, his panic levels rising. He had to stay calm. He had to breathe. He focused on breathing, waiting for them to answer.

"You see, Andreas, I had one of Arthur's hitmen go to make an attempt on my boy. Unfortunately, he was an amateur," Barrett paused to glare at Arthur, who kept the same composed attitude.

"He missed, and my son insisted I get him more protection. I paid, and he chose a bodyguard. Unfortunately, it was Jayce Leuth, the best goddamn bodyguard there is." Barrett shook his head, and Arthur disappeared out of Andreas' line of sight to do god knows what.

"I told Jayce to take my boy to Peru. But, Arthur sent you after him before consulting with me." Barrett continued, and Andreas heard a tap running. His stomach twisted, a warning that something bad was about to happen.

"You interfered a few too many times, and now we have to dispose of you too. Which is quite unfortunate, Andreas." Barrett shook his head, unbuttoning his suit jacket and taking it off. Andreas' mouth was unbelievably dry, and he struggled to form thoughts as he saw Arthur come up beside him, setting a bucket of water down.

"Wait, wait, why are you... I'm your best hitman!" Andreas exclaimed, looking at Arthur desperately.

"No, you were a liability." Arthur replied, an emotionless tone accompanying his words. Andreas recoiled, realizing now that he'd fallen for a lie, and he was figuring it out too late.

"You told me I was your best hitman, Arthur! You said I couldn't be replaced!" Andreas was scrambling for something, anything, to stop them from killing him.

"I lied." Arthur's tone never changed, and Andreas' fight turned into flight as he struggled against the restraints.

"Where is Quinn." Barrett demanded, and Andreas felt his heart drop. Oh god, Quinn. He couldn't give her up. He couldn't throw her under the bus.

"Fuck you." he spat, and Barrett grinned wickedly.

"Then why don't we start?" Barrett suggested, looking at Arthur. Arthur nodded wordlessly, pulling a soaking wet cloth from the bucket.

"Waterboarding? Seriously? Come on, Arthur, I've been trained to withstand ungodly amounts of pain! I'm a hitman!" Andreas sounded like he was joking, but he could feel every nerve in his body, hear his heart pounding against his ribcage.

"Don't worry, Andreas. We'll break you." Barrett put a hand on Andreas' shoulder, squeezing gently, and Andreas swallowed nervously, meeting Barrett's gaze defiantly.

"Don't worry, Mr. Ryder. Breaking him will be difficult, but it can be done. A human being can only withstand so much pain." Arthur was behind Andreas now.

"Fuck." Andreas muttered, quiet enough that the two men didn't hear him, thank god.