Their Property (Four Mercenaries 3)

The amphitheatre erupted with high-pitched gasps, but in this moment, Apollo’s expressionless face above the gun he held became the center of Tank’s universe. Ben kicked away the syringe before swinging his boot straight at Tank’s ribs while the door to the box opened and three more guards marched in, armed to the teeth.

Tank was done for, and while he couldn’t give the signal to abort the mission, he hoped his friends would understand the situation clearly enough and leave before it was too late.

“We fought together. How dare you betray my trust?” Ben screamed before kicking Tank yet again. Pain spread across his chest, as if his ribs broke, but he didn’t fight it and met Apollo’s gaze while one of the men searched him and took away all his weapons.

Apollo scratched his white beard, watching Tank without emotion, which only added fuel to the fiery panic burning inside Tank’s gut. “I have enough human chattel here to look through all the trash, even the big container you thought would keep your secret. Your fingerprints match with those found on a bottle of laxatives,” he said, finalizing Tank’s fate. There was no point trying to make excuses or deny the accusation, because he had approached Apollo with a weapon in hand. They’d baited him, and he’d jumped head-first into the trap.

Ben and one of the men Tank didn’t know hauled him to his feet. He didn’t resist when they walked him all the way to the railing for everyone to see. Tank kept his face still when it appeared on the screen, watching him back with bloodshot eyes.

His heart trembled with hope that the others could safely abort the plan, but he didn’t want to look for his friends or send them any messages. He couldn’t afford the risk of drawing unwanted attention to the very people he needed to protect.

He took a laborious breath when Apollo picked up the mic again.

“This man, my own guard, tried to assassinate me. With this,” he said, showing the hidden syringe to the booing crowd. Tank shut his eyes, locking himself in a bubble that wouldn’t protect his flesh but could keep his mind safe for a few more minutes.

He could take this. He could take anything that came his way if only his friends came out of this alive. He’d chosen a dangerous life, and it would have taken him to his grave eventually anyway.

He took a deep breath, expecting to face Apollo’s gun, but two pairs of hands shoved him forward, and his lungs filled with air. Tank tried to grab the railing and break his fall, but his fingers slipped, and he tumbled all the way into the dust of the arena, landing on his side.

Pain burst through his body, spreading like a tsunami, but the sharp crack he heard upon impact had him shivering even before he looked at his left arm, which was quickly going numb. Unnaturally bent, it made nausea well up in Tank’s throat, but he didn’t have time for taking care of the limb or self-pity, because a section of the floor opened, and he backed away, struggling to think straight when the spectators began to chant.

What emerged was a cage, and the huge lion inside it roared, shutting its eyes to protect them from the light. Looked like Apollo had gotten his lion in the end, and now Tank knew exactly what the animal was for.

Chapter 18 – Clover

Tank fell from Apollo’s box like a sack of grain, and while the thud of his body hitting the arena got swamped by all the noise, Clover still sensed its phantom echo in his skull. He felt numb when the fact that their plan had been thwarted finally settled in. Struggling to breathe in the crowd of strangers who chanted in demand for the ‘traitor’s’ death, he briefly looked up from Tank, who was dragging himself to his feet, to the galleries above.

They’d all come here in disguise. Drake wore prosthetics that changed his features in subtle ways and clothes that disguised his silhouette, making it bulkier. Pyro had shaved off his signature Mohawk and hid face tats under makeup, while Boar wore a wig of long, wavy hair, but Clover knew how his men were dressed and could find them in the crowd with ease. And when he spotted Drake and Boar across the arena, his breath caught when he realized they were on their way toward Apollo’s box like two shadows of murderous intent.

His heart galloped. He knew nothing of a plan B, and they should have agreed on one. Whatever his lovers planned to do could end up with yet more disastrous consequences, and all because of their love for him. Nothing about such a fate would have been fair.

The amphitheatre shook when spectators all around Clover raised their voices to a point where his ears rang, but the reason for such excitement had his blood freezing.