Sweet and Sour

Chapter 18 - Weakness

Warning: Dark - Kidnapping and false imprisonment, threats with a gun, threats of violence/sexual assault, references to murder, rough handling of reader

You briefly hope that this is Bucky and his men. That he's doing this as some sort of twisted punishment for what you said. Yes, that would be a super fucked up thing to hope for, but at least you'd stand a chance of getting out of this alive.

As time goes on it becomes clear that this isn't Bucky, though. You don't recognise any of their voices. You have no idea who these men are.

This is bad. Really bad.

You do your best to stay calm, knowing panicking will mean you won't have your wits about you. You need to stay focused, do everything you can to stay alive.

Finally, after a very bumpy car ride as you laid on the floor of the vehicle, you get to wherever you're going. The journey was about forty minutes you think, you try and work out how far that might be out of the city, but to no avail. They park up and you hear people step out to talk. You strain to hear what they're saying through whatever is over your head - there are at least two of them, maybe three. They don't use names and don't give anything away about who they might be or what they're doing with you. They just mutter about the boss, and everything being in place for something. You can't make out the rest.

Suddenly the door is wrenched open, you are tugged up to your feet and snatched roughly out of the vehicle. It hurts and you know you'll likely have bruises up your arms from where they've manhandled you. You're standing outside again when the gun impatiently taps on the back of your head and you take that as indication to walk. You can't see so you have no idea where you're going, a firm hand on your shoulder is guiding you to walk in the direction they want you in. You clomp awkwardly in your heels.

"Please..." you murmur quietly from under the hood. "If you want money I can get you my savings and everything from my job's safe...I don't have much but-".

The gun digs hard into your skull again and you shut up suddenly, not stupid enough to continue.

You're lead into some sort of building, trying to count the number of turns and doors you take, doing your best to form a mental picture of the layout. You can feel voices on either side of you and know multiple sets of eyes are on you as you pass by even though you can't see them. Eventually you are pushed down into a rigid chair and the hood is torn from your head.

Your eyes strain under the bright lights after being in the darkness for so long and you do your best to adjust to where you are. The lights are lurid and unflattering, adding a disorientating edge to the already stark space.

You peer across the room as you blink and get your bearings. You're in a warehouse or factory it seems, rusting machinery surrounds you and everything looks decayed and far beyond its best days. The air smells of stale must and damp mould.

Eventually your eyes find your captors, standing ten or so feet away. There's a group of them dressed in combat gear. They all have various weapons strapped to them – sat in holsters, slung over their shoulders, tucked carefully into their palms. Ammo clips are affixed to belts draped around their waists, bandoliers rest threateningly across their torsos. You shudder at the sight. There are more of them than you realised.

A muscular dark haired man stares back at you hungrily and you flinch instinctively at his gaze.

An older man in a dark suit and tie smiles kindly as he heads towards you, his professional attire a jarring contrast to the others in their almost-military like get up. He seems warmer than his 'colleagues' and you can tell he was a handsome man in his younger days.