Cold War: Saved By the Bell

Chapter 10

1980
CIA Safe house
East Berlin

He could feel himself move up and down as Adler carried him from the car and into what he assumed to be their safe house. It wasn't a place he recognized. His brain was in and out, only getting glimpses of the place around him. He saw bright colorful lights, loud music, and the mumbling of other people. Perhaps it was his brain on the verge of death.

"Get him on the gurney, I want him patched up. Agent Park will take him from there."

"Please..." Anthony pleaded weakly, unable to even open his heavy eyes. He could feel his wounds beginning to heal, but his energy was what he desperately needed.

He felt someone grab under his arms while someone else grabbed his ankles to toss him on the small bed. He didn't even realize he fell back asleep until he awoke an hour later. He felt someone supporting the back of his head with their hand. Startled by the odd feeling, he jerked awake. His terrified and confused eyes met Lazar's.

Part of him wanted so desperately to tell him how sorry he was. But a feeling inside told him he wouldn't understand. Because if he was right, then it didn't matter what he said or did, nobody would understand. To them and the rest of this world, he was a nobody.

"How did you do that?" Lazar raised an eyebrow as he tapped his finger on Anthony's mostly healed wound on the back of his skull.

"Get off of me." Anthony calmly said, shoving his hand off his head.

"Just doing-"

"Your job. I don't care. I have nothing you guys need or want. I've got some important affairs to get back to, so I'll be getting out of here." Anthony stood to his feet to feel a few bandages and stitches on his body. They must hadn't healed all the way by the time they were wrapped.

He threw his feet over the side of the bed, his uniform stained with his own blood. His boots hit the ground and Lazar drew his pistol, pressing the barrel on his chest.

"You aren't going anywhere." The man threatened.

"What are you gonna do? Shoot me?" Anthony scoffed. He marched out of the room, feeling groggy but determined to get out of this hell.

His wounds were healed aside from a little soreness and a lack of energy. He barely made it out of the backroom before he felt a sharp pain in his hip and knee. He fell face first onto the cold hard concrete, a loud crack that everyone seemed to hear. Anthony shouted in pain, lying there in his own blood, feeling weaker than before.

"Shooting may not kill you, but at least it'll give you some discomfort." Park put her pistol away and carried him over her shoulder into the main room. She tossed him into a padded chair, Lazar putting on the man's restraints. Anthony struggled to keep his eyes open, his mind battling exhaustion. The walls matched the concrete floors. There seemed to what he recognized as graffiti painted on the walls around him, some faded, showing their worn age. And some he couldn't distinguish between blood and paint.

"You got him?" Lazar asked her as they eyed their newly acquired captive.

"Ya, just want to have a little chat with our new friend." She nodded as he walked upstairs disappearing into what Anthony recognized to be daylight.

"Where am I?" He mumbled, his head rested against the neck rest.

"Currently in my custody, and for one of Perseus' men isn't it supposed to be the other way around?" She quipped, standing in front of him.

He chuckled. He could feel his balaclava slowly soaking with blood from his broken nose. "Well if you were good at your job you would know that you have the wrong badass."