The Uncharted Tales

Chapter 4

Part 1: From Small Beginnings

Victor Sullivan

In the days that came and went, Sully learned that the Drake brothers had been orphans for some time, and it wasn't an accident they wound up in Cartagena. It was mostly speculation, because when Sully pried for more information, Nate simply told him, "Sam's always been there for me."

He could take a hint. A shitty childhood with the absence of parents, and Sam was at the forefront of any sort of detail he could pry out of Nate, which wasn't much. He lived at a Catholic orphanage in the States for some few odd years, then struck out on his own with his older brother raising him on the run, and somehow they wound their way down in Columbia.

In retrospect, he still knew absolutely nothing about his ward, but he also saw the way Nate shifted away from him to his closest escape route when their conversations zeroed in on what might be some painful memories for the kid. After a scare where Nate had disappeared in the middle of the night on him and didn't come back to the rental until later the next evening, Sully respected his privacy and asked nothing else.

Back to business.

Erring on the side of caution, Sully started teaching Nate more skills to get himself out alive. Namely, he couldn't get the image of Nate shaking like a leaf with a gun in his hand only a few months back out of his head. He also couldn't brush off the lingering fear of almost losing the kid at the auction a week and a half ago. It simply wasn't enough to trust Nate's supernatural ability with climbing and squeezing his way out of impossible scenarios. He needed to be able to fight his way out if it came right down to it.

During some downtime between negotiations with a client and a potential buyer, Sully dragged Nate out back and lined up tin cans along an intricately carved stone wall. If his new employers had the money to build a literal estate off the coast of Spain, then they could afford a few bullets cracking the stonework.

"The trick is not lettin' 'em see your face long enough to shoot at it, so your aim's gonna factor in if you get out alive or not. Look down the barrel, and then..." Sully lined up his shot and pulled the trigger. He clipped the top of the can and it spun right off the edge. "Got it? ... Nate?" When Sully looked over at him, Nate's gaze was focused off into the distance at nothing in particular. "If you wanna shoot your own skinny ass, be my guest."

Nate blinked back into the present. "Sorry, I was thinkin' about..."

Sam's name was left unspoken.

"Yea, I get it, kid. But it won't do you much good moping around about it." He eyed the teen critically, then with a sigh he tried to make amends. "I'll be right there with you, boy-o."

Nate gave him a shaky smile. "Thanks, Sully." He visibly shook himself, and suddenly that meek teen was replaced by his spunky partner. "What were you sayin' before? Something about lettin' 'em get a good look at your ass?"

Sully cuffed the kid on the shoulder. "You're gonna be the death of me, kid. I already feel grey hairs growing in."

"Funny. Thought you already had a head full of 'em."

"Yea, I will, no thanks to you." Sully held the 9 mm out him. "Don't shoot me in the foot."

~ ~ ~

Sully was none too pleased when the kid devolved into a ball of nerves when they landed in Cartagena's private airport. No amount of teasing could shake him out of his state, and at some point during the ride in the rental jeep, Sully stopped trying to bring a smile to his face. It just wouldn't happen.