Hornet's Nest Ch. 08

"It's a bit of a shock, huh?" Alex asked, swiveling over his seat and gesturing at me. "Bet you weren't expecting her."

Darren gave me a look, like my existence was an irritation. "Quite."

I did my best to appear sheepish and looked out the window. "Can we just go, Alex."

He started the engine, but kept talking. "How much has she told you?"

"More than enough, I think," Darren replied.

His seething tone and radiating tension might not have simply been acting. I suffered a very real twinge of my own. Even if this went to plan, he had every right to be angry. I was the worst sort of person. I bit the hand that fed me.

There was a long silence inside the car. Lee went to turn on the radio and Alex swore at him. Darren mostly focused on staring out his window, probably making a mental note of where we were going. His head snapped around to me when my phone vibrated in my pocket.

I pulled it out, briefly saw the unknown number, but hurried to answer and hold it to my ear. "Amy forfucksake," I snapped. "I told you I'm busy."

"Jeez, sorry," the female voice - as I'd asked for - replied. "What you in a mood about?"

"I had an early start and you never fucking listen to me."

"Sheesh. Don't have to bite my head off."

"I'll call you back later." I quickly hung up and made awkward eye contact with Alex in the rearview mirror. "Sorry. Should I turn my phone off?"

"Might be an idea," he replied.

I slid it back into my pocket, but didn't switch it off. As easily as that, one part was done. I was now being tracked. Darren glanced at me, with the briefest flicker of relief in his eyes.

The next part was making sure I wasn't separated from Darren.

*

Darren's tension manifested itself into a constant cold expression and stiff demeanour. I wasn't sure if what I felt were my own nerves, or something I picked up from him. Getting out of that car couldn't happen soon enough. I was feeling sick and cold, despite the sunshine and bright weather.

We drove through a business park, stopping at a certain office building. The area was pretty empty. A broken window on the second story of the building gave a subtle hint that it was abandoned.

When the car parked beside some others, people started coming out of the building.

It was like a disturbed ant's nest.

There were so fucking many of them. This could really complicate things.

Darren froze as he watched them approach through the window. Alex graciously opened his door, and gave a kindly gesture to remove himself from the seat. I swallowed, hard, and got out my own side.

There was cheering, hooting, and laughter. The swarm came over to crowd us. Darren's head snapped side to side, bemused, panicked. They closed in on him.

"Fucking Sörensen!"

"Never thought I'd see this, fuck!"

"Holy shit, man!"

"Alex, you monster!"

Alex was swarmed as well, receiving slaps on the back and an arm slung around his neck. He only grinned at all the attention.

It was like Darren had been handed over to an angry mob. He was pushed and shoved, as if everyone wanted an excuse to say they'd touched him. Energies escalated in a boisterous rush, like little boys circling a fight on a school playground. Only there was no fight, just Darren versus fifty guys, who all seemed to want a piece of him and weren't lining up for it.

Someone finally took charge, grabbing Darren's collar and shoving him forward. He staggered, and the crowd split to let him through. "Come on, you poncy cunt."

"It's fuckin' showtime!" someone else called, followed by more hooting.

He continued to be shoved towards the building, staggering and keeping his balance. It felt like the moment he hit the floor, the rabid pack would jump on him and rip him apart. I helplessly watched, trailing Alex and Lee, who were now mostly oblivious to my presence.

We passed into the interior of the building. Everything was an unbearable crowd of bodies. Someone was hollering, telling everyone to calm the fuck down. The voices bounced and echoed off walls, down corridors, a stairwell.

Darren appeared from the crowd as he scaled the first few steps, ruffled and agitated, but not beaten and bloody. He tossed a glare across the heads.

"Gentlemen!" Driscoll's voice called from further up the stairwell, very close to anger in tone. "Is this din necessary? Good fuckinglord!"

Everything obediently quietened. The same man who'd taken charge outside gave Darren another push and nodded to keep heading up the steps. The throng thinned and began to disperse. People took off in different directions. Some followed up the stairs.

"Alex!" I barked.

He was heading for the stairs but spun to me, eyebrows raised.

"What's going on?" I hissed.

He smiled and gripped my shoulder. "It's all good. They're gonna have their little talk. I'll come back and get you soon."

"No," I said, and his brow furrowed slightly. I tossed a glance at the surroundings, all the charged up and boisterous men, suddenly taking notice of me now that Darren was gone. "Don't leave me here."

I think desperation showed in my expression, and it wasn't fake. His lips pursed for a brief moment. He tossed a side glance at some of his own colleagues, then made up his mind.

"Aight, come on."

Thank fucking God this was working.

---

David

The door burst open and I jumped, jolting Tyler.

"All right you cute little fags, come on, wake up."

Tyler growled and sat straight, rubbing his eyes.

"Come on, get up."

About five men came into the room and circled us. One grabbed at Tyler's collar but he knocked the arm away on reflex.

"Give us a fucking minute," he snapped.

The man scoffed. "Get up."

"Why? Where we going now?"

"Nowhere. Your mister has arrived."

Tyler reacted like he just wanted to lay down and die. He let out a sigh, and buried his head into his palms. The men laughed at it.

"Hey, you," one said to me. "How's your head? You can stand, yeah?"

I felt perfectly sharp and awake, but thought still acting concussed might be a better idea. I faked needing support of the wall as I got to my feet. Tyler was dragged up and shoved towards the door. The muzzle of a gun gave me a nudge to follow.

"No funny business, Tyler," one said again.

They kept acting like that, expecting him to do something. But I was, too. I kept watching him, waiting for some moment where he'd decide to fight and we'd try our chances at escaping. He seemed to know what was going on, while I didn't. The moment he fought, I'd join him.

He never fought. If anything, he behaved so defeated it pissed me off. I didn't knowwhatwe could do, but it just seemed wrong to be doing nothing.

We were taken through the building, passing shadowed corridors where barely any sunlight reached. The room we eventually arrived in was long and narrow. The end with the large window was lit by afternoon daylight, but the other end was shaded.

There were people inside. At least twenty. Their figures lined the walls. Standing in the middle, was Darren. He watched as we were brought in, his eyes a little wider than normal. I could see the faint movement in his throat as he swallowed.

The shirt-guy stood to our left, by the window. I'd decided by now that he was one of these 'Driscolls'. Even if he carried himself with authority, he looked just as tired and unkempt as everybody else. There were a number of bodies in a small space, in the heat of summer, and you could smell it.

Darren was the best-dressed and best-groomed man in that room. God, some things never change.

"You see?" Driscoll said. "I told you they were fine." He gestured us over, then placed a weighty hand on each of our shoulders. Tyler lowered to his knees and I copied. "You just stay there and don't do anything stupid, eh?"

I checked over my shoulder and was met by the tap of a gun on my skull. Right, okay. I looked ahead, at Darren.

Driscoll paced around a lot while he talked, while Darren stayed very still. I was aware of their voices on my ears, and Driscoll's fidgeting movements in the edge of my vision, but I wasn't really paying attention. My eyes shifted around the room.

Violet stood at the back in the shadows. My heart leapt to my mouth and my pulse quickened until I felt like I'd vomit. Why?How?I didn't understand. How could this be happening?

A man stood protectively close to her. The man who'd been there at the crash, the fight. Violet was staring at the floor, but he met my gaze and raised an eyebrow.

My blood was burning. Frustration and anger built up. I had to stay still. I couldn't move. Was she in league with these people? Or was she in against her will, another type of prisoner?

I was begging, praying for the latter.

I wanted her to look up, to look at me. She finally did. Her expression wasn't blank. There was pain in it. I frowned at her, she frowned back. We started having one of our wordless expression-conversations, staring across the room at each other.

Driscoll noticed. He cut off in the middle of his sentence and tapped my head with his knuckles. "Yeah, that's your girlfriend, eh?"

"Leave him," Darren snapped. "I'm the one you want."

"Yes, but what exactly is it that I want?"

"Enlighten me."

Their conversation just sounded like some pissy argument. Driscoll kept being snarky and Darren kept snapping at him. I looked to my right, at Tyler. He was still, but alert. His eyes gave quick movements around the room. He looked ready to spring to his feet at any moment, but the man behind him kept his gun barely an inch from his head. I guessed the one behind me was the same.

I finally tuned in.

"So why hold them hostage?" Darren was asking. "You want money for them?"

"This is just how things played out," Driscoll replied. "I work with whatever I'm given."

"So name your price."

Driscoll paced behind us while shaking his head. "Give a man a fish and you'll feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, however..."

Darren scoffed.

"I'm not interested in handouts," Driscoll continued.

"What do you want, then?"

"Your uncle did kill my father, you know."

Darren glared back at him. "Your father killed my whole family."

"Unfortunate series of events, wasn't it? My father wanted to make contact with you."

"Yes, I'm aware."

"So why did you reject it every time?"

"Because I'm not interested in dealing with your sorts."

"Oh?" Driscoll's legs passed in front of me, then back again. "That could also be very unfortunate."

"What do youwant?"

Driscoll finally stopped his pacing. "Your company has been doing very well for itself. Now, I understand it was built on what your father stole from my father. I could simply ask for a little refund, of sorts."

"Which would be?"

He shrugged. "About four million. The thing is, I think we can both make a better deal than that. Times have changed."

"Right." Darren's hand went to his brow.

"Yes, you're thinking about it? Smart, eh."

"I'm not interested."

"I don't think you should be so quick on that decision. Now, you're in contract with the military, yes? Some of the things you've been turning out, trust me, there are people who will pay good money for access to those things."

"No."

"Darren." He gestured at two men against one of the walls. "They're here on a kindly short notice, and will discuss many things with you, if you open your mind a little."

"I'm not interested."

"Do you understand how much money we're talking about?"

"I'm not interested."

I only had a slight view of the profile of Driscoll's face, and it wasn't easy to make out his expressions, but I think he stared at Darren in disbelief. There was silence in the room, broken by someone clearing their throat.

"Darren," a voice said. Violet's voice. "Please."

He looked over his shoulder for a moment, then back at Driscoll. "I'll give you whatever you want for their release, but I'm not interested in doing business with you."

Driscoll ran a hand down his face, then disappeared behind me again as he resumed his pacing. "Are you sure it's smart for you to be so definitive, without your advisers here?"

"And what would my advisers say? Encourage me to deal with the likes of you?"

I looked over my shoulder, and was reminded to behave by another tap of the gun. Holding that kneeling position was getting uncomfortable.

"Is this how he is, Tyler?" Driscoll asked. "Plays hard to get?"

Tyler scoffed. "You're a cunt."

Driscoll's hand went to his forehead.

"Leave him," Darren snapped. "I told you, I'm the one you want."

Apparently neither of my uncles knew what diplomacy was. I didn't see how this was going to end in anything other than disaster. My tension was growing.

"Do you know why he's not dead?" Driscoll asked. "Because I understand how important he is. Your company would be nowhere without people like him, eh? The brain in this noggin." He tapped Tyler's skull.

There was spite in Darren's tone. "Are you this desperate? Fallen on hard times? I would've thought the war made things quite prosperous for you."

Driscoll passed in front of me again. Every time he got close I was fighting the urge to lunge. "Demands increase, yes, but increased security makes it much harder to meet those demands."

"So you're on hard times," Darren concluded. "Pathetic."

Violet's movement caught my attention, covering her face with her hands. Even Tyler reacted, shutting his eyes and giving a faint shake of his head.

Darren just stood there, somehow imposing on the entire room with his presence. Complete defiance of the situation. His gaze stayed fixed on Driscoll. Hatred is an ugly expression, and not one that suited my uncle's face.

I could almost feel like a little kid again. Darren was the big scary patriarch again.

Even Driscoll seemed to need a moment to figure out what to do with him.

"I don't understand you people," he finally said. "What do you think you are? Honourable?"

"You can have money from me, or nothing at all."

There was another long silence. I looked across the room to Violet. She had her arms crossed, leaning against the wall, staring at the floor.

I dared another glance over my shoulder. Driscoll was staring out the window. His voice eventually cut into the air.

"All right, Sörensen. There's obviously no reasoning with someone like you. We're not going to get anywhere. You can leave, but first, before you go, I need you to choose." Footsteps came up behind me. He snatched the gun out of the hands of the man standing over me. "Husband or nephew."

Darren's glare got worse. "What?"

"You're only walking out with one of them."

"This is how you want to persuade me?"

"No, there's no going back now. You've made up your mind, and I've made up mine." He gestured at both of us kneeling there. "So choose one."

"You're a fucking madman."

"And you just keep digging your hole deeper. Choose." He thudded my head with the muzzle. I didn't think my heart could pound any faster, but it did. "Nephew, or husband? The boy or the man?"

"I thought we were being civilised."

"Your attitude is, quite frankly, disgusting, and you need to be taken down a notch. The boy or the man, Darren?"

"What am I even choosing for, you pillock? To shoot or to save?"

"To save." He stood between us - I glanced up and saw the smug smirk at the edge of his mouth. Darren's stance was faltering, but he kept staring. "I won't put the death on your hands, that's simply the consequence of who you choose to save."

Darren fell silent.

"That's not going to work, either. If you don't pick I'll shoot them both. I don't really fucking care."

Then there was a long, mutual pause. They held eye contact. With another glance, I saw Driscoll's face fallen. "He's stalling." He stepped forward, the weapon hanging threateningly at his side. "What you stalling for? I thought you searched him!"

"He ain't got shit on him," the man standing beside Violet replied.

"Well, he's fucking stalling!" Driscoll's eyes shot around the room. "Go on, out! Go and check!"

I saw an eye roll, but the numbers around the walls thinned as multiple men jumped to action, as if eager to please their boss. The room emptied, but not completely. There were still at least ten of them.

"You wired?" Driscoll asked Darren.

He gave him an icy glare. "You're gonna be in shit if I am, aren't you?"

Driscoll stepped back towards us on our knees. "I'm done pissing around. Choose one."

Darren went silent again.

"I'll shoot them both, then."

"No."

"Then pick one." He pointed the muzzle at me, "The boy," then moved it to Tyler, "the man? Come on, Darren. You've had enough thinking time. Your adopted nephew, or your fuck-toy? Which is easier to replace? Five seconds before I shoot both."

Darren said nothing. I saw the panic in his eyes.

"Four."

He swallowed. He wasn't in control.

"Three."

Driscoll cocked the slide of the pistol.

"Two-"

"The boy," Darren said.

What? No. No.

Driscoll's eyebrows rose. "Okay. Yeah, I can respect that." He stepped behind Tyler.

No, no no no. The man behind me grabbed a handful of my hair and twisted my right arm behind my back, as if he could just sense me about to spring.

I was going to be sick. This couldn't be happening. Driscoll rammed the muzzle into the back of Tyler's head. He didn't fucking do anything, he just stared at the floor, then shut his eyes.

I couldn't watch this. My own eyes shut. The shots rang out and I winced.

One.

Two, three.

Voices erupted, wordless cries.

My eyes snapped open. Tyler had fallen forward, on his elbows.

Driscoll staggered back. He looked down at himself. There were two reddening dots on his chest and stomach.

Tyler's lips were curled back in a snarl of pain. Blood soaked through his left shoulder. He'd moved. At the last fucking moment, he'd moved.

The voices cried out from the other end of the room. Another shot cut through it. A figure slumped against the wall while one lunged at Violet. There was another crack of the pistol in her hands, and a spurt of blood out the back of his skull.

Someone lunged at Darren, he rugby tackled them to the floor.

My body roared to action without any conscious thought. This was happening. We were fighting. In a twisting flash I was free from the man trying to restrain me, cracking my knuckles across his face.

There was a shot that wasn't from Violet, then another that sounded as though it hit the window.

A man moved in front of me, I punched him down. Hit him until he stopped moving. Tyler was struggling with someone, I collided with them and heard their head hit the wall.

Faint sounds were ringing out from elsewhere in the building. Shouting voices. More gunfire. It sounded different. Faster, repeated shots. Like assault rifles.

Darren was stalling. We had to last for whatever that was.

I was lost in a blur of the fighting, flurries of punches and kicks. I swung all the weight of my body. I couldn't feel whatever hit me. We were four against ten at best.

Eight.

Six.

Darren had hold of a gun, and he was firing it. A fucking shoot-out was erupting in that confined space. Unless a bullet blasted my brains out, nothing would stop me. Violet's headstart, all the people she hit during that confused burst of panic, made all the difference.

More people came flying in the door and attacked us. We were outnumbered, we had to last.

Tyler was barely using his left arm.

Violet was out of bullets. She smacked the butt of the gun into someone's face over and over again.

Everything my eyes darted across were flashes of information, but my mind processed none of it. I guess, in that moment, I knew what it was to be seeing red.

There was so much chaos, people ducking and dodging, the cracks of pistols. Darren was knocked to the floor, but managed to lift the man off him with whatever raw strength he had. I tackled the next person lunging at him. We both hit the dusty carpet with a wheeze of pain from the man below me.