The Resistance || Money Heist

The Radio .039

*Flashback*

A cloth fell over his already drenched face. He'd been laying there, strapped down to the bed for what felt like hours now, but really had only been for about twenty minutes. His hands were gripping the side of the bed, restrained at the wrists so tightly. Blood was seeping through the cuts that opened back up on his wrists. His feet were being restrained as well, just as tight. He was only in a pair of boxers, not given anything else to wear, regardless of how cold he felt- and he felt cold. It was hot in the tiny room they kept him in, but this room felt about twenty degrees, or lower. He studied this before. He knew what was about to happen. The bed flipped up, just slightly so that he was upside down. He could hear them pass the bucket to the man closest to him, the water spilling out of the sides a little. He took a deep breath. He knew he was going to need it before this started.

The man tilted the bucket and the water poured quickly onto the cloth, smothering him on the table. He tried to hold his breath, but that only lasted so long. It wasn't like he practiced holding his breath for this occasion. They tilted the man back up and snatched the cloth off of his face after having his hanging for longer than two minutes. He took a deep breath, trying to cough up all of the water that had filled his lungs. Death would've been easier than this, that's for sure.

"Where's the Professor?" The man questioned aggressively.

He was in a fit of coughs, but he got ahold of them long enough to speak, "I don't know." He spit at the man purposely, his eyes angry, a frown on his lips. He was beyond pissed off. He was cold, out of breath, but he still wasn't speaking. He would never tell.

The man wiped away the spit quickly. His face turned angry, the same as the other man's. He did it again. He tilted the bed up, keeping his face covered and poured more water on his face. This time, it lasted longer. When he was pulled back up, he was choking, trying his best to get air into his lungs. "Where the fuck is he?" He screamed in his face, but he wasn't letting up. "Where the fuck is your brother?"

"I don't know." Andres got it out along with a fit of coughs. The man instructed his team to untie him. There were more than ten men in the room, all just to contain Andres. They yanked him off of the bed roughly.

"Take him back to his cell. Maybe he'll remember something later." The man ordered the team. Berlin couldn't help the sadistic smirk that pulled on his lips as he was shoved out of the room, his hands being knotted together with chains again. He looked around his surroundings, taking note of every single room, just like he knew his brother would've done. If he'd ever want to get out of there alive, he'd have to know where he was. Just as he was turning down the next hall, he spotted another group of people. They were trying to hide the other person being shoved down the hall, but Berlin could recognize the man from anywhere. It was Ava's ex, Martin. He was in the same building, and they were trying to get information out of him. Thankfully, he didn't have any because he was someone that would break.

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"Professor?" Ava called out for him over and over again over her earpiece. The last thing he mentioned was that he was being followed and then randomly, all communication seized. She was in a fit of worry.

"He's not going to answer," Palermo snapped in frustration, watching Ava pace back in forth in the room. Almost everyone was in the room, minus a few that were watching over the hostages. They were trying to decide the next step without the Professor. "They've captured him you dumb-" Palermo was about to say more but Berlin caught him off.

"He's not captured." Berlin snapped but he stepped over to Palermo. "He's making a getaway which means, he won't be answering us for a while. Nairobi and Bogota, get back to work melting the gold." He gestured towards them. They stared back at him but nodded after a few seconds. They needed a leader. The group crumbled without one. So, Berlin stepped back into that placement, knowing it was better than reckless and worried Palermo. Berlin came into the heist under Palermo, but he always filled the leadership role, no matter where he went. He was sick, though, and as the days went on, he seemed to just be getting sicker. Last month, he started coughing, and he hadn't been able to stop since then. He assumed he didn't have much time left so really; he didn't have anything to lose. "Helsinki and Denver, get to the weapons. Make sure we're prepared in case of an attack. " When he said this, they both nodded, hurrying out of the room.