Uncharted: A Thief's Legacy

Chapter XII - How To Save A Life

They could hear a deep, British voice speaking. From what they could tell, listening part way through the conversation, they were going on about a trade deal that had gone south.

"How many are there?" Nathan mouthed to Sam. Sam poked his head out and then whipped back into place. He held up three fingers and mouthed back,

"At least."

"Armed?" Sam shrugged. Nathan shifted his weight and Sam saw him take a deep breath. The conversation seemed to be wrapping up. Nathan held up one finger to Sam, then raised a second, slowly counting to three. However, before he raised a third finger, Nathan froze.

"And, boys, one more thing before you go," Charles Marlowe said, his voice suddenly growing louder. "Let's take care of our eavesdroppers." Sam pressed himself against the wall beside him, almost as though he could become a part of it. He locked eyes with Nathan, who was looking equally panicked and had one arm across Cassie's body, holding her behind him.

Sam's only warning was Nathan's expression changing and his eyes widening suddenly; someone grabbed Sam from behind and yanked him upright. Sam felt the cold, hard barrel of a gun pressed against the nape of his neck and resisted the urge to fight in fear of being shot. His captor half dragged out into the open to stand face to face with Charles, and two other men on either side of him.

"And the brother?" Charles asked casually. "Where is the other one? We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. And let me clarify, the easy way is to just shoot Sam. Your choice."

"Let him go." Nathan slid out from his hiding spot with his pistol already cocked and aimed at Charles. The other man just looked amused.

"That's your play? You shoot, so does he. Is Sam really worth less than my life?" Nathan looked over at Sam, and Sam drew in a breath and nodded once. Adrenaline coursed through Nathan's veins. Of course, Sam would tell him to take the shot.

"Why Sam? Why not me?" Nathan asked tersely, trying to stall. For what exactly, he didn't know, but he did know that Charlie was in his ear, picking up every word. "Sam doesn't even know you. Hell, neither do I."

"You knew my mother," Charles said. "Katherine Marlowe? I believe you were familiar with each other."

"Fairly," Nathan said. "Then why go after Sam and not me? I killed her, not him. I'm the one who's responsible. You can leave my family out of this."

"Because I didn't want to kill you, not really. I needed you to know what it was like to lose," Charles said. "And killing your friend wasn't enough."

"You mean Sully?" Sam said. "That was a car wreck. If that was your men at the house that night, they didn't get him. We got away."

"Are you kidding?" Charles sneered. "You think that was a coincidence? Merely some bad luck? We had contingencies if you got away. I was driving that truck. The only disappointing part is I didn't kill you, too." The room fell silent as his words hit like a bomb. Nathan could only gape in silence. His hands began to quiver and he fought to steady his pistol.