Chapter 14

FOURTEEN

Asher was hauled away with his arms twisted behind his back. He tried to kick and scream for Harry, but it was no use. He could see nothing, only darkness, but he could hear the sound of men and Harry's muffled yelling.

Then Asher had restraints around his wrists, his hands fastened behind his back, the hood still over his head, and he was thrown into a room, the door slamming closed behind him.

He scrambled to his feet and tried to go in the direction he was thrown from. But he had no hands, no eyes. He hit the wall and almost fell backward, but he still screamed for Harry.

Please stop hurting him.

"It's me you want," Asher screamed. "Not him. Take me! Please," he said with a sob. "Please."

He slid down the wall and cried. Helpless.

Responsible.

This was what he didn't want to happen. This was why he'd wanted Harry to leave him. But Harry, so fucking stubborn, had said they'd be together until the end .

But now they weren't together. And they were doing god only knew what to him...

Asher banged his head on the wall, crying. He screamed in frustration, in fear.

"Asher?"

Asher froze.

He wasn't in here alone.

"Is that you?"

Oh my god.

"Yunho?"

Yunho sobbed out a cry. "I told you not to come. Why did you come?"

"Where are you? I can't see you," Asher said. "I have a hood over my head. They have Harry."

"I have a hood too, and my hands are tied," Yunho said, crying. "They have Lucas too. I hear him scream every so often. It kills me, Asher. I'm so sorry."

Jesus fucking Christ.

"I'm in the corner, opposite the door," Yunho said, sniffling. "I've seen this room. It's four metres by four metres. There's a chair they use to the right."

Asher got to his knees and crawled over. It was so dark, he could see nothing at all, but he crawled until he hit the wall, then he edged toward Yunho's breathing.

Yunho yelped when Asher's knee touched him and he jerked back, crying some more. Asher turned so his back was to the wall and he slid down next to Yunho, and Yunho leaned into him, wracked with sobs and tears, his body shaking and trembling. "Asher, I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I tried to tell you not to come. Ojima, ojima, Asher. You shouldn't have come."

Asher let him lean into him; the best embrace they could manage. "I came for answers. And you better start with the truth, because so help me fucking god, they have Harry right now. They stabbed him, and they were beating him. I don't know if he's alive or if he's dying on the ground out there," Asher said, unable to stop the tears. "Because I can't hear him anymore, Yunho. Fucking hell." Asher squinted his eyes shut, even though he was completely blinded by the hood. The silence was worse than the screaming. "I told him to leave. To not come with me, but he refused to leave me."

"Of course he did. He loves you," Yunho said, sniffling and crying. He leaned in even closer to Asher, and he was trembling so much, Asher's anger at him dissipated.

"How are you?" his voice a murmur.

Yunho sucked back a ragged breath. "Doesn't matter. I'm so sorry, Asher."

"You need to tell me everything."

"It's Vadik Istomin," Yunho said. "He's behind this."

"I know. What does he want?"

"I found something I wasn't supposed to find. I'm so sorry," Yunho said, almost wailing now, shaking, trembling. "I've done things, Asher. And it brought you here. And Harry, and Lucas. My god, I'm so sorry."

Lucas.

"Lucas," Asher murmured. God, how did he tell him about Lucas. That maybe the man he loved wasn't who he said he was.

Hell, maybe Lucas was the reason they were here.

"I haven't seen him since we were taken," Yunho sobbed. "I've heard him, his screams... what they keep doing to him."

Fucking hell.

"I don't know how long it's been." Yunho's whole body tremored. "How many days... It's been dark. The hood." He sucked back a ragged breath. "The darkness helps," he whispered. "If I can't see, it helps if I can't see."

His agoraphobia, his anxiety.

God, he was shaking so hard Asher had to wonder how tightly strung his entire body was, how exhausted.

He hadn't even thought to ask him when he'd slept last or eaten. Had they even fed him?

Asher opened his mouth, to say what he wasn't sure, when the door banged open and footfalls stomped into the door. Asher jumped, but Yunho cringed back and whined.

"It'll be okay," Asher said.

But then hands grabbed him and hauled him up. His hood was ripped off and he could see faces in the dark room. He spun around to see Yunho; they'd taken his hood off too, his face all banged up, eye swollen, cut and bleeding. His eyes wide and terrified as he looked at Asher.

"Tranq him before he has another seizure," one of the men said, struggling to hold Yunho.

Then they slapped one of those white patches on their necks, and they were hauled back out under the bright lights. Everything was hazy, swirling, his feet heavy, and he was dragged back out to the main room and up the stairs. He tried to take in details. He tried to look around, tried to look for Harry. He needed to find him.

There was no Harry.

But there was blood on the floor.

Then he couldn't focus, he couldn't think. His head was too heavy and his eyes wouldn't stay open. He tried to talk. He tried to fight the hold they had on him. But then they threw him into the back of an army truck.

And Asher's world went dark.

Asher woke up to the rumble of an engine and the vibration of a moving vehicle. His face was pressed to the cold metal floor and it took him a second to remember...

He'd been shoved into the back of an army truck. The troop-carrier kind with the canvas canopy. It was dark and loud. He had no clue how long they'd been driving for or how far they'd gone. Which meant he had no clue where he was. He pushed up with a groan, trying to sit up, which wasn't easy given his hands and feet were still bound.

His body ached, his head was fuzzy.

Then he noticed Yunho, lying on his side, his back to Asher. He still had the black hood on, but Asher was sure it was him. His hands were tied behind his back, his feet bound, just like Asher's. But Asher knew those arms, those hands.

"Yunho," Asher said.

Nothing.

He scooted over the best he could, nudging Yunho. "Wake up," he hissed at him.

Nothing.

He shoved him harder, moving him over so he could lie on his back, and Asher saw the white medical patch on Yunho's neck. The same one that Asher had. The same ones they'd used to kidnap Yunho and Lucas from the island.

Yunho groaned, then he froze for a split second before scooting up and backwards, pushing with his feet and shaking his head, scared as hell.

"It's me," Asher said. "Yunho, it's me, Asher. We're in the back of a truck. I don't know where we are or where we're headed. They took my hood off. It's just you and me in here. I don't know where Harry is." Asher tried not to cry. He felt like he could vomit, and panic was beginning to set in. "If they killed him, Yunho, I will..."

He didn't know what he'd do. What he could do, given his predicament.

He shook his head, trying to not think of it.

He couldn't bear the thought of it.

Yunho groaned again, his head falling forward. His breathing was laboured and his whole body was shaking, and Asher remembered Yunho's agoraphobia and anxiety, his epilepsy and PTSD, and how extraordinarily awful this must have been for him.

"You okay?" Asher asked.

No reply.

"We'll find them," Asher said eventually. "We'll find them. I promise."

Yunho's whole body went stiff and he slumped back to the floor. He shook with tremors, and fucking hell, Asher wasn't sure if he was breathing. Asher sidled up close to him, like he had in the dark room they'd been in, letting Yunho lean into him.

The body contact had to help.

And all the anger Asher had felt toward Yunho melted away. Their years of history, their pasts, and everything they'd been through came to the forefront.

Asher loved Yunho like an older brother or a father. The first person who had ever shown Asher kindness. Kindness without expectation of something in return, and that was something Asher had never had before.

Yunho had always credited Asher with saving his life. And it was true. He had.

But Yunho had saved Asher a thousand times. Not just with security and intel. But he'd shown him kindness and friendship .

Family.

And right now, what Asher had found in those damn data files didn't matter.

Yes, he wanted answers.

But Yunho was suffering right now. Physically, emotionally, psychologically. The answers could wait. If they lived through this, Asher would ask all the questions he had.

Right now, his only focus was their survival.

And trying not to think about Harry.

God, how Asher hoped Harry was okay. He had to be. Asher couldn't accept anything less.

Eventually Yunho's breathing calmed down and evened out. "Hey," Asher said softly. "I'm here. I'm here. You're not alone."

Yunho sobbed in response.

The truck slowed then, the road underneath the tyres changing from possibly a highway, with its smooth surface and periodic line breaks in the surface, to a rougher surface like asphalt.

A smaller off-road, perhaps.

Then Asher heard the crackle of a radio, and voices. He couldn't quite make out the words or the language. His head was still foggy, the noise of the truck too loud.

A few minutes later, they came to a slow stop. There were voices outside, a little too far away to hear. Then they started forward again, driving over a grate of some kind.

Asher tried to see out through the small gaps in the canvas canopy, catching barely a glimpse of trees and a metal gate, perhaps.

But they were driving too slow to be on another main road or highway, and Asher could hear voices and... a helicopter ?

What the hell?

Where the fuck were they?

Then the light in the holes of the canvas canopy disappeared. A tunnel, perhaps? But the truck came to a stop and more voices shouted. Croatian, maybe Bosnian; it was hard to tell the difference because they were far away and were barking orders to remove the cargo.

The cargo . . .

When the back of the canopy lifted up, two men appeared in full black combat gear, pointing guns at them.

More AK-74s, Asher noticed. Russian funded, then.

Another man climbed in and hauled Asher out by his arm, and he barely landed on his feet. The zip ties cut into his ankles and his head felt woozy.

Disoriented.

He tried to take in his surroundings.

A massive open warehouse, not a tunnel. Army trucks. Soldiers in combat gear. Outside looked like... an airfield?

A military training compound?

Another truck was pulling into the warehouse but Asher was dragged away. He barely saw them drop Yunho out of the truck. He landed heavily on his knees and shoulder, then was hefted up and dragged behind Asher.

"Stop there," a booming voice yelled. The men carrying Asher stopped and Asher lifted his head as a man stalked toward him.

He was maybe sixty years old, short grey hair under a black cap. He wore black army pants and coat, and a sneer of distaste.

And Russian issued military boots.

Was this Istomin? Asher assumed it was.

"Asher Garin," he said, his English accent stilted by his Russian tongue. "Take a look everyone," he declared loudly for all his soldiers to hear, "at the infamous and untouchable Asher Garin." He tapped the side of Asher's face. "Not so untouchable now, are you?"

Then he looked behind Asher, his sneer turning more sinister. "And the irrepressible Oh Yunho. Who the whole world thought was dead. Believe me, you're about to wish you were. Take them downstairs."

The two men hauled Asher through a door and down some stairs.

Another bunker.

This wasn't good. Not good at all.

The darkness. Being underground. God, how Asher hated it.

But at the bottom of the stairs, Asher was waiting for darkness and that familiar dank smell of earth, but he found neither. This was a whole new set-up. Another door led into a long corridor. White walls, bright lights, clean smell. Asher wasn't sure if it was a secret government admin office or a hospital.

He hoped it was the former because the idea of a hospital made his stomach roll; medical gear, torture and chemical pain.

Jesus fucking Christ.

They passed doors and Asher tried to see inside the rooms off the hall. He saw desks and computers in one room.

And the fact they'd kept Asher's hood off meant only one thing.

They didn't care what he saw because he wasn't living through this to tell anyone.

Asher cleared his mind, trying to prepare himself for a long and painful path to death. He wasn't scared of dying. Hell, he'd faced death a thousand times. He should have died more times than he could count. He'd had the gift of years many others did not.

But what he was scared of, what he did regret, was not being with Harry when they met their end.

They were supposed to grow old together in their little house with their little cat.

Asher was sad that was being taken away from him.

He'd dared to believe he could have that, and that candle of hope was being snuffed out in some bunker on the opposite side of the planet.

So far from home.

His home.

His Harry.

He so desperately wanted to know he was alive but was terrified to learn he wasn't...

The two men dragged him down the corridor, through a warren of halls and doors and too-bright lights. They stopped at one door and took him into a large room.

Asher half expected tiles on the floor with a drain for easy cleaning, but no. This was an office.

A tactical office?

Whiteboards, computer screens, a wall of monitors, not too dissimilar to Yunho's war room. And there were two wooden chairs in the middle of the room.

They shoved Asher onto one of the chairs and fixed a chain to his zip-tied feet, securing him to a bolt in the floor. His hands were still behind his back, and his head was still foggy.

He did feel a little more alert but not back to full clarity.

Then two men brought Yunho in and threw him into the chair next to Asher. They chained him too and pulled his hood off before they went to join the armed men standing by the wall.

Yunho kept his head down, the bright lights clearly painful after wearing that black hood for god knew how long. Asher could see him tremble.

"I'm here," Asher said quietly. When Yunho didn't respond, Asher repeated it in Korean.

Yunho jerked his head up then, and what Asher saw made him almost weep.

His right eye was swollen shut, purple, and the skin torn like a mangled plum. His lip was split; he had dried blood and dirt over his face. His dark shaggy hair was damp and sticking to his forehead.

He was far too pale.

Anger flared in Asher's core, and that resignation of dying today was quickly replaced with a burning desire to find the men that did that to Yunho and make them pay.

God, how he wanted to make them pay.

But then Istomin came in with a man behind him. No, not a man. A child. Tall enough to qualify, perhaps, but he had a baby face. Asher was certain he hadn't even begun to shave.

Jesus Christ.

A fucking kid.

Then Asher remembered . . .

Yixing, a fifteen-year-old genius. The same computer whiz who had, apparently, been the one to track down Yunho. Same kid who had found Asher and Harry in Australia.

Asher was going to make him pay too.

Kid or not.

Istomin clapped his hands, making Yunho jump. "Look at this family reunion," he said, gesturing between Asher and Yunho. "How sweet."

Asher ignored him and instead, trained his eyes in on the kid. "How much is he paying you?"

The kid smiled at him. He fucking smiled. "A lot."

"Until it's your time in this chair," Asher said with a laugh.

Istomin took Asher's chin and yanked his face around. His eyes were a cold blue. Icy and dead. "Do not speak to him."

Asher considered spitting in his face and briefly wondered if the painful retaliation that he would no doubt bear would be worth the satisfaction.

Instead he smiled at him.

Istomin stood up to his full height and took a step back. "We're going to play a little game," he declared. "Where Mr Oh here tells us everything we need to know," he said, then smiling and gesturing to Yunho like this was a game show on TV. "And for every answer he gets wrong, or even hesitates," he gestured to Asher, "Mr Garin here loses a body part."

Awesome.

"No," Yunho mumbled, crying and trembling. "I'll tell you everything. Don't hurt him."

Istomin chuckled and tapped Yunho's face. "Yes, you will tell me everything."

"Don't tell him anything," Asher said. They were dead anyway. Istomin was going to kill them regardless, so Asher would sooner give them nothing.

He wanted to know where Harry was, if he was still alive. But then part of him didn't want to know. For if he was dead, even to hear those words, it would kill Asher.

Asher also didn't want to bring Istomin's focus on Harry on the off chance he was still alive. Surely, he knew Asher's one weak spot was Harry.

And Yunho, yes. He loved Yunho. He did.

But Harry... Harry was the entirety of Asher's world. That was never clearer to Asher as it was in that moment; sitting next to Yunho in this bunker, facing certain death. Sitting alongside the man he thought of as family, an older brother, a father. Asher's mind kept an ironclad hold on Harry.

He clung to the hope that Harry was still alive. It was the only reason he had to keep going in that moment. No matter what came next, what he was about to endure.

If Harry was still alive, then he'd endure it.

If he were to learn right then that Harry was dead, Asher's reason for living would die with him. He'd once thought if he lost Harry that he'd burn the world to the ground, to avenge his death with nothing but fire and fury.

But the truth was, he wouldn't. He'd simply crumple to the ground and wait for death to find him. He wouldn't fight it.

Hell, he'd welcome it.

"Let's start, shall we?" Istomin said. He waved a man over. A stoic, hard-faced man, that Asher recognised? He wasn't sure... until he spoke in that raspy, larynx-injured voice.

The same man who'd kidnapped Yunho and Lucas. He'd killed Aranya and Narong.

Larynx. Asher wanted to kill him, very much.

Larynx took out a knife from his thigh holster, similar to what they'd used on Rozga in the tunnel, and waited for Istomin's next order.

"Which body part shall we start with?" Istomin said. " Which appendage would he miss the most?" Then he acted surprised. "Perhaps his tongue, after he spoke to the media today. Hmm," he seemed genuinely unsure of which part of Asher's body to mutilate first. "Ooh, I know! His index finger. A sniper without his trigger finger is like a snitch without their tongue, am I right?"

Fuck.

"I told you," Yunho said, crying and shaking his head. "I will tell you whatever you want to know. Don't touch him, please."

"It's okay," Asher said to Yunho, needing to placate him, to comfort him.

Istomin smiled at Yunho. "Did you hear that? He said it was okay. Though I'm sure he wouldn't think that if he knew what you'd done."

What he'd done?

"How you betrayed him?" Istomin added.

Asher didn't want to hear it. Not from him. If Yunho had betrayed him, then he'd hear it from Yunho.

Istomin turned his attention to Asher and smiled. "Do you know how easy it was? Yunho's a genius, yes. But he's also a little freak who can't leave his house, so you know what that makes him? A creature of habit. Meticulous. Routine, routine, routine. And a sitting duck, unable to leave." He shook his head and clucked his tongue. "Careless, careless, careless."

Istomin made a distasteful face at Yunho and then he pretended to shake, like an epileptic. "God, he's such a freak. Absolute basket case. We had to keep him sedated so he didn't seizure himself to death or hyperventilate, choke on his own tongue."

"He needs medication," Asher said. This asshole was going to die, Asher would make sure of it .

"And you," Istomin said. "You're just as predictable, Asher," he added, clearly enjoying having centre stage. "I knew you'd come to rescue him. I knew you would, like I know the sun will come up in the morning. So predictable. So many people wanted you dead but none of them knew how to get you. When it was really very simple. All I had to do was capture your precious Yunho, and it would lure you right in." He brightened. "Then imagine my surprise when it turns out you have a lover. Someone you love more than your precious Yunho. Someone you'd want to settle down with in your little house, play the gay wife, and pretend you weren't Asher Garin. Well, guess what. You don't get to pretend that you didn't kill all those people. And you don't get to pretend that you didn't kill Sergey Volkov and ruin our plans six years ago and take every fucking cent of our money."

Wait. What?

"Who?" Asher asked.

Istomin grabbed Asher's hair and yanked him backwards. The chair couldn't move because it was bolted to the floor, so Asher's neck strained painfully. His face appeared above Asher's, straining and angry, his dead eyes ice cold. "You know damn well who."

The truth was, Asher had killed a lot of people, ruining a lot of plans. He didn't remember them all. He tried to remember which job six years ago. Russian, at that...

Oh.

There was a Belarus job about six years ago...

"You're just the lackey who pulled the trigger," Istomin said. "Yunho ordered the kill. You know every shot you fired, every life you took was for his personal gain, yes? You mean no more to him than a pawn in his fucked-up game of chess. He needs someone removed so he can take the spoils. He calls you and you take them out, he takes the money, the data, and the control."

Asher wasn't sure what part of that great revelation was supposed to be a surprise. He almost laughed. "I know all this. Who did you think we were? Batman and Robin, saving the world from evil villains? Newsflash: we're all villains."

Istomin didn't think that was funny. He grabbed Asher by the throat, his fingertips squeezing, his face red with rage.

"Did you know that he works for the government?" Istomin asked through clenched teeth.

Asher snorted because of course he knew that. "Which ones? There are dozens of countries who pay good money to have pieces in this game of chess with no strings. Yours included."

"Yours," Istomin said, giving Asher's throat a squeeze before letting go.

Asher swallowed and resisted the urge to cough. "I don't have a government," Asher replied. "I have no allegiance to any country."

Istomin laughed, which Asher hadn't really expected. It was a sinister sound. "You don't even know. You are so caught up in it and you don't even know. He hid it from you well, yes?" He gave a pointed nod to Yunho. "You lied to him about his whole involvement, and he has no clue."

Yunho shook his head, causing more tears to fall down his cheeks. He opened his mouth but no words came out. His breathing was ragged, unsteady, his whole body trembling.

Istomin smiled at Asher. "Like it or not, Asher, you now belong to the Australian government. Your precious Yunho sold you out. And your boyfriend, Harrigan. He sold the both of you. You think the Milvus files case being blown wide open was the Australian military's doing?" He laughed and gestured to Yunho. "The mastermind was right beside you the whole time."

No.

Asher shook his head.

No.

Istomin laughed. "Was he helping you and Harrigan escape? Or was he orchestrating your every move? Did he provide information to bring down Clive Parrish, or did he use you to tie up loose ends?"

Asher shook his head again, but he glanced over at Yunho. He had his head down, crying. "It's not like that," he half mumbled, half cried. "I'm sorry, Asher."

It's not like that.

Meaning it was something like that.

Asher felt ill.

He'd brought Harry into this, and now he had no idea where he was or if he was even still alive. His Harry could be dead.

And for what?

Betrayal burned through Asher's blood like lava, searing and beseeching.

He snarled at Yunho, his anger uncontained. "The fuck have you done?"