The Mafia Kidnapped Me

(39) The Invasion - II

"Peter?"

Everything went still after he uttered that word. It was like he was in an alternate reality and was slowly being dragged back to the very one he didn't want to belong in. His eyelids became heavy as he watched the sight before him, his brain working like a clock to search for the words to describe the torture he was going through.

He looked again at the sight before him and had to pinch himself to make certain that he was not dreaming - hell, not even his wildest dreams could have cooked up something this gruesome and staggering. Perhaps, he was in a delirium of horror and was conjuring an effigy of his best friend, because he was suddenly feeling weak at the knees and his sight was blurry.

He soon realized that it was tears that were blurring his sight.

"Hello friend slash brother clash cousin, how are you doing today?"

The effigy speaks! How was he gonna reply? What was he gonna say? Was he having a nightmare? No, this was real, as real as a cinder block. Maybe Peter was joking, who else could have brought Pamela to this site if not him?

But, Peter wasn't supposed to know where this place was located. After he had asked Bruce for the address, Devlin remembered telling peter to leave the cell, that he didn't want him to know the address because of security reasons and because he wanted to protect him. How then was he here? Also, why was Peter looking at him with a look that dreaded him?

There was only one explanation his instincts were proffering. One he was finding grueling to gobble up.

"Stupid title, I must say," Peter said, snapping him back into focus. "Friend slash brother slash cousin." He barked a burst of short, cynical laughter, then indicated at Devlin's men, how poised for the attack they were with their guns aimed and waved them off. "Oh please, spare me the theatrics. You're surrounded. You walked right into a trap."

One by one, armed men came out of their hiding places with their guns aimed at Devlin's men. They were truthfully outnumbered.

"No." Devlin shook his head, still in denial. "No. Not you, Peter." It was a struggle to speak and so his voice came out as a strangled whisper.

"It's Bull to you, mister and yes it's me. Woo-hoo!" he clapped and laughed. "Tell your men - excuse me, boys - to stand down."

Devlin looked like all the willpower to survive had left him. What was happening? His whole life, his whole existence was crumbling right in front of him. "Peter please, we don't have to do this. We're brothers, remember? Please let's call all these off and settle things like brothers do."

"Uh," Peter looked up at the sky like he was considering what Devlin had said. "No can do." He snickered.

Devlin shook his head from side to side, not wanting to accept the gruesome truth that was standing right in front of him. He turned halfway to his men. "Stand down."

Cody took a step forward. "But sir -"

"I said stand down!" he yelled, angry and exasperated at the same time. "It's an order." He added, when they stubbornly stood, still poised for attack.

"You should listen to your boss." Peter sang cheerfully. "Or my men could just, you know, click. And you all will be dead. Your choice."

Devlin looked up at Peter as his men lowered their guns. "Why? Peter, why?"

His eyes smarted with tears. He could not believe this! Was this some sort of prank? No, Peter knew how much he'd been preparing for this battle so he wouldn't want to make a double entendre of it. No, he knew better than that.