Spy School and the Dead Agent

Chapter 13 Vengeance II

Chapter 13: Vengeance II

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"Ugh"

Ben's head was spinning, and it felt like there were weights on his eyelids. Every time Ben tried to open them, Ben could barely manage a crack before they felt too heavy to hold. Ben pushed through the fog clouding His mind, prying His eyes open little by little until Ben could finally see a bit of the room around me. It was dimly lit, with just enough light to see shadows moving in the corners.

Ben blinked a few times, trying to shake off the grogginess. His arms felt heavy, and when Ben tried to move, Ben realized Ben was tied to a chair—loose enough that Ben could shift slightly, but tight enough that breaking free wasn't an option. His wrists were bound to the armrests, His legs to the chair legs, and there was a dull ache in His shoulders where the ropes dug into His skin.

Ben tried to clear his head, thinking back to what had happened. Erica and Ben were on a mission. They were supposed to be tracking a bomb maker, or at least someone connected to one. They had followed a lead into an abandoned building, only to realize too late that it was a setup. Ben remembered the sound of gunfire echoing off the concrete walls, Erica pulling him down behind some crates. And then... gas. Ben remembered the gas, thick and acrid, filling his lungs, making his vision blur.

Ben forced his eyes to open wider, pushing himself to stay alert. Across from him, just a few meters away, Ben saw another figure tied up in a chair. Even in the dim light, Ben knew who it was. He could see the outline of her shoulders; her head slumped forward. She looked just as out of it as he felt, and it sent a surge of panic through him. Ben tried to tug at His restraints, testing the give in the ropes, but he felt weak. Too weak.

A voice suddenly cut through the silence, startling him. "Well, look who's awake?"

Ben blinked, his vision still fuzzy, and turned his head toward the sound. After a moment, his eyes adjusted enough to make out the source—a man leaning casually against the far wall. He had a cigarette dangling from his lips, the tip glowing dimly in the dark room. Three other figures stood nearby, holding AK-47s. They were relaxed but alert, their eyes on me, as if waiting to see what Ben would do.

Next to them, Ben noticed a boy with silver hair around his age. He looked out of place in this setting, holding a can of soda in one hand, his eyes darting between Ben and Erica. The boy's posture radiated confidence, almost arrogance, like he had something to prove and knew he was winning.

Ben kept his mouth shut, his brain still sluggish as Ben tried to make sense of this. Ben needed to figure out who these people were and what they wanted. The man with the cigarette took a drag and let out a long plume of smoke, his eyes never leaving his. He had a smirk on his face,, like he found this whole situation amusing.

"Got yourself into a bit of trouble, didn't ya?" he said. His accent, which Ben believed was Eastern Russian, carried a hint of amusement when he spoke again.

Ben didn't answer. His focus shifted to Erica; Ben needed to make sure she was okay. Ben could see her chest rising and falling slowly, so at least she was breathing. That was something. But she still hadn't moved.

"Where are we?" Ben managed to croak, his voice hoarse.

The man laughed. "Now, now, let's not get ahead of ourselves. You'll find out soon enough." He tapped his cigarette, letting the ash fall to the floor. "But since you're so curious, how 'bout we start with a little Q&A? You ask a question, and maybe I'll answer if I'm feeling generous. Sound fair?"