Fic: Resistance (chapter six)

[mjartrod]

Title: Resistance
Rating: Mostly PG-13 (will warn if a particular chapter has a higher rating).
Feedback: Is always welcome in any form.
Warnings: Slash, language, sex and violence.
Summary: Matt Bellamy has always been a conspiracy theory enthusiast. But what happens when one day, as Muse are leaving Hong Kong after a gig for a month’s break, what is supposed to be a routine interrogation before boarding a flight turns into a manhunt operation where Matt unwillingly plays the main role?
Disclaimer: All characters and events in this story are fictional, even those based on real people and material (having been altered, added or left out for dramatic purposes). I do not own Muse.
Author’s note: The idea came to me after picking up an amazing book in a bookstore a couple of months ago – Stieg Larsson’s first book of the Millennium trilogy. Go read, they're absolutely fantastic.
Would also like to thank Anya for being my beta again and for putting up with my rants and insecurities about this :p
 

CHAPTER 6


Dom felt like a windmill, head whipping left and right as he strode down the shopping centre concourse checking shop windows in the dim hope Matt was in one of the stores. He knew he was fooling himself; as much as he wanted to believe Matt had finished his research and simply been distracted away as he waited for Dom, deep inside the drummer knew something must have happened, gone horribly wrong. He hadn’t even closed the last page he’d been viewing on the computer, like he’d had to leave in a hurry.

Quickly reaching the end of the avenue of shops, Dom swung open the door in the wall there, gaining access to the stairs that led to the upper floors and also the underground car park. He tried to detect any sound, any sign that would give him a hint of life; but there was only disturbing stillness, and a bucket and other cleaning tools standing in the corner. Shit, what now? He ran a hand through his hair, attempting to collect his thoughts. Perhaps Matt had spotted the shopping centre’s security or the police and taken the precaution of leaving to prevent being seen? If he really had walked in the same direction and gone through the same door, then there was no way he’d have chosen to go upstairs and risk being trapped in the building. Trying to reassure himself, Dom took the stairs down to the underground car park, instinctively grabbing the aluminium-handled broom propped beside the bucket as he passed.

Walking through the passageway to the car park quietly, Dom noted how the gloomy area was nearly full with vehicles. As much as he wanted to shout for his friend, he knew it was wiser to avoid revealing himself, and even felt compelled to conceal himself from view behind a car, crouching down out of sight before he scanned the area. There were several broken lamps on the ceiling and he still couldn’t hear anything out of the ordinary. What if Matt wasn’t there and he couldn't find him in the vicinity of the shopping centre? Deserting him was not an option. Could Dom text him as a last resort? What if... what if he had been caught by the police?

Dom nearly jumped, a muffled grunt in the near distance startling him. It was the sound of something compact and solid hitting the bare concrete floor.

“Get up.”

The authoritative male voice came from the same place. Dom’s heart sank after a brief moment of doubt as to whether the voice had actually addressed him. He could barely believe he’d been caught. He stood up cautiously after placing the broom on the floor, cursing his luck. But as he turned around, there was no one there, let alone the armed man in uniform he was expecting. What was going on?

“Get up now and do not make matters worse for yourself.”

“Who’re you?”

Dom dropped back into a crouch immediately, grasping the broom, his mouth very dry. The second voice was instantly recognisable. Dom hadn’t been found out – Matt had. Shit, shit, shit. He had to get closer.

“Where is Howard?” The impeccable British accent confused Dom, who was slithering from car to car with his ears perked. Was this bloke English? “I asked you where your band mate is.”

“You're not from the police, are you?” It was Matt again, Dom noting how his words dripped with suspicion.

“Do not test my patience, Bellamy. Where is Howard?” His question was once more met with silence. “Doesn’t matter where he is, we’ll find him soon enough.”

Beads of sweat formed on Dom’s forehead as he crept behind the row of parked cars, making a supreme effort not to be detected, until he finally had a clear view of the scene: Matt was standing with his hands in the air in the middle of an access lane, facing a Caucasian man in a suit pointing a gun at him. The singer’s questions suddenly made a lot more sense to him. The guy didn’t look like police, and was certainly not any of the officers they had dealt with so far. There was an exit to the street at Matt’s back; he had been trying to escape.

“Put the laptop on the floor.”

“Why d’you want the laptop?” Matt was speaking louder now. “Are you part of the triad? Why are you setting me up, why are you doing this to me?”

At that exact moment, Dom poked his head out, crawling to hide behind a van closer to the action, and Matt’s blue eyes flickered to him. Dom pressed his back against one of the van’s wheels at the sound of shoes scuffing across the floor, and he grasped the broom tighter in his hand, ready to smack someone in the face with it if he had to. But luckily he hadn’t been spotted, as the man continued talking to Matt, his back to the blond.

“The laptop, Bellamy.”

Dom watched as Matt slowly removed his coat, pulling the strap over his head and bending to place the bag on the floor at his feet. It had to be now.

“Very good. Now step back. Step back and- arrrggh!“

The moment Matt had seen Dom, he’d realised he could not let his gaze drift to his friend again or he’d reveal his presence. Excitement and relief had to be contained at all costs. So when he was ordered to deliver the bag, he obeyed. His mysterious opponent made to grab the item off the floor, and when he heard the rustle behind him and turned around, Matt knew it was already too late for him. Dom was right behind him, brandishing the broom and swinging it around, bashing him on the shoulder with all the strength he could muster.

The man grunted painfully and the gun plunged to the floor, Dom kicking him in the shin and forcing him to his knees. Snatching the weapon before the stranger could reach it, the drummer kicked him in the chin, blood gushing from his mouth as he collapsed onto his back. Dom kicked him hard in the stomach a few more times, until he was folded over groaning in pain, and only then did he drop the broom to join Matt. The singer was already in possession of the laptop again, watching the scene with wide eyes as he hastily re-buttoned his coat.

“Where the fuck were you when we were getting beaten up in Teignmouth?!” He started walking backwards towards the exit.

They kept the man in their line of vision until they reached the exit ramp and then spun around, running madly out of the building.

The street next to the shopping centre was busier than before, sidewalks filled with pedestrians, but a quick scan revealed a park across the street. They sprinted in its direction, slowing down to a light jog when they reached the gardens, then marching side by side, trying to look as calm and inconspicuous as possible when they were still only a few minutes away from the shopping centre. Dom clutched the gun in his jacket pocket as carefully as if it were a toxic substance in a glass container and when they went by a rubbish bin, after making sure no one was watching, he dropped it inside.

“You know, that might’ve come in handy in the future...”

Dom faced Matt with surprise – the dark-haired man had an eerie glint in his eye. He didn’t reply and they continued walking, laptop bag firmly strapped to Matt’s body underneath his coat.

***

The incident at the shopping centre, though alarming, had been valuable in clarifying a few things for the two musicians.

Matt explained how he had noticed someone with a mobile phone headset staring intently in his direction as they lingered outside a distant shop, and how he’d had no choice but to sneak away when the person left his sight for a moment. Stuffing the print-outs into the laptop bag on his way out, he had found himself immediately pursued by not one, but two men. He had managed to elude them temporarily when he got to the car park, but then he’d been pummelled to the floor just as he was reaching the exit.

“If they weren’t from the police-“

“Triad members,” Matt established. “They were triad members, they’ve got to be.”

The Sun Yee On triad had branches in the UK, according to what Matt had read, so that explained the man’s accent and appearance. If they were right, this meant that not only was the triad originally responsible for framing Matt, but that they were also hunting him now. They probably hadn’t been expecting Matt to flee the authorities and were trying to ensure their plan was successful. So now the musicians had to dodge both the police and the real criminals. How ironic that Matt was accused of being part of a triad – and yet, the more they mulled over it, the more likely it seemed that the organisation itself had been the one to set him up. But how were they going to prove it?

Matt had also found more information on Zhang Hongbo before he had been forced to leave the computer. Zhang was a respected businessman in Hong Kong. The entertainment company he worked for had offices in other parts of the world, including London, since it had links to Warners, and he also owned more than one casino in Macau. Matt didn’t recognise him from the pictures he’d seen; the only connection between the two seemed to be the e-mails in the singer’s account. There had actually been eye witnesses to the entrepreneur’s shooting, and reports had it that he would be in a life-threatening condition, if he hadn’t died already; like Matt, he seemed to have dangerous enemies. But if the CEO survived, then he could be the key to proving Matt’s innocence. The two Englishmen fervently hoped the police would put as much effort into finding him as they were into finding Matt.

The laptop was another unresolved piece of the puzzle. Whatever it contained, it seemed to be important to the authorities and also to the triad, who, judging by Matt’s recent encounter, were invested in insuring it wouldn’t be destroyed.

“If that’s important enough for them to try and charge you,” Dom signalled with his chin towards the bag his friend carried, “why don’t we just smash it?”

Matt was reluctant. “They’d accuse me of destroying evidence, wouldn’t they? And there must be copies. No, I want to know what’s in here.” He patted the bag. “I think that’s exactly what we should find out next.”

They were walking along the shore now, the blue waters sparkling in the bright sunlight, and they decided to take a ferry to Hong Kong Island upon seeing the terminal, Matt certain they were better off closer to the English embassy than the border with China. They also had no clue as to how the triad had found them in the shopping centre, and were therefore eager to get as far away from Kowloon as possible.

“I wish I could call Carla,” Matt sighed when his eyes fell on a pay phone in the Tsim Sha Tsui terminal after they’d bought their tickets. “Maybe she’s found out something more about those funds in my account.”

“The money comes from Warners, Matt,” Dom replied as they settled on the pier to wait for the next departure. “And who knows how she would react now people think you’re some sort of thief... Though on second thought,” Dom snorted, “you’re gonna be a bloody hero to a lot of people!”

“Yeah... not to my mum, though...” Matt mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand.

“Your mum knows you didn’t do anything, you idiot.”

Matt only sighed again. “Wish I knew how the other guys are doing. You think the police are giving them a lot of shit?”

Dom swallowed. He’d been asking himself the same question, despite not wanting to dwell on the idea. “They’re fine. Just worried about us, I guess. They were probably asked some questions, that’s all.” The rest of the boys could have lawyers lined up to defend them and make sure they were being treated fairly in no time; Matt had enough on his plate already to be worrying about the others too, Dom decided.

“Thanks for saving my arse back there,” Matt said suddenly without facing the drummer.

The blond smiled. “Just return the favour next time, yeah?”

***

The ferry ride across Victoria Harbour was conducted in silence, the two friends staring out at the approaching skyscrapers that seemed to sprout from the ground like mushrooms. They disembarked at Wan Chai and were instantly swallowed by the chaos of people, traffic, towering buildings and neon signs. They had been there before, more than once, most recently only a few days before, prior to the gig. There had been time for sightseeing, shopping, checking out restaurants and bars... it all seemed so distant now, petty gripes over schedules, hotel facilities and menus utterly irrelevant.

They found a café where they could get something to eat and also plug in the laptop and recharge the battery, hopefully to unearth whatever the triad had planted for the police to discover. Matt hooked the power cord up, his sandwich held in his mouth, but he soon put the food down, brow furrowing as he fumbled with the Macbook, insistently pressing the ‘on’ button.

“It’s dead!” He pulled on his hair, as if trying to rip the black locks from their roots. “Dead, dead, dead. Fucking dead!”

They had assumed the battery was flat. They had assumed wrong.

“How did this happen?” Dom opened and closed the laptop in consternation, typing at random, mimicking everything Matt had done, also with no result.

“It’s my fucking fault, I fell on top of it yesterday when we jumped out of that window!” He literally banged his forehead on the table, voice coming out muffled. “Why is everything going so fucking wrong?”

“Hey, hey...” Reaching across the table, Dom patted the frustrated man’s arm before squeezing his wrist gently to get his attention. When Matt raised his head, his blue eyes were shimmering, his face contorted in anguish. “We’ll fix it, okay? We’ll find a shop to fix it, just finish eating first. Don’t lose the plot now.”

He held Matt’s gaze for a moment, grey and blue eyes locked as Dom grasped his thin wrist across the table, and then the singer swallowed thickly and glanced outside, nodding. He wolfed down the rest of his sandwich, regaining his composure while Dom fumbled with the computer, and then pulled out a few of the print-outs he had made to read.

The drummer ended up packing the white laptop back in its bag after awhile; the thing was completely dead and it was pointless messing with it. And he couldn't share it with Matt, but the truth was that Dom was very frustrated as well.

The lack of contact with anyone, not knowing what was going on with Chris, Tom and the others... it was getting to him, too. He’d do anything to speak with his mother, she was probably so worried. They had had no time and it wasn’t sensible to linger on it anyway, but when Matt had briefly checked their e-mail accounts that morning, swamped with messages that they’d quickly scanned, his sister’s e-mail had engraved itself on his memory. How she had advised them to turn themselves in to avoid aggravating the situation.

Of course, his situation was a lot less dire than Matt’s... He looked over at the quiet brunet sitting opposite him, absorbed in whatever he was reading despite his constant fidgeting. He shared an interesting fact once in awhile, but nothing seemed relevant to their case. Sure, they had made some progress in figuring the situation out, but Dom wondered, not for the first time, whether they would ever be able to prove Matt’s innocence on their own, without the means to pursue a lead when they found one. Still, while Matt needed him, Dom would stay by his side. He would never abandon him. It wasn’t a matter of choice.

Night wouldn’t take long to arrive, and Dom contemplated the possibility of getting a place to stay. They had to fix the laptop, and that wouldn’t come cheap, but maybe a small room wouldn’t be very expensive, and it would definitely be much safer. When he shared the thought with Matt, the singer lowered his papers and arched an eyebrow, radiating scepticism.

“We don’t have any money.”

“Yes, Matt, I’m aware of that.” Dom rolled his eyes, annoyed at being reminded yet again of how much of a hindrance it was. “Maybe we can offer something for trade, sell something.”

He saw the smirk forming and knew what Matt was going to say before he even opened his mouth. “Finally gonna start charging then, Dom?”

“I meant our wallets or something like that, you wanker,” Dom sneered. “How many pawn shops have we seen so far? They’re all over the place.” The red and green neon sign that signalled a pawn shop had caught their attention more than once; Hong Kong seemed flooded with them. “Although...” He grinned slyly. “I’ll have you know that, were we ever to sell our arses, mine would sell way better than yours would.”

Matt gave him the middle finger without even raising his eyes from the chunk of text he was reading. “I’ll gladly let you have that honour.”

“Only ‘cos you know you’re destined to lose.” Dom could see Matt’s eyes stop mid-sentence, narrowing. “Not even being the frontman would save you this time...”

Matt’s eyes swivelled up to Dom over the papers in his hands. “Bet that's how you find blokes to get you laid, you fucking whore. Frontman isn’t available, so they settle for the drummer!” And he went back to reading, Dom sniggering with a wide grin.

They left not long after; deciding to try and sell their wallets to get some cash, and it wasn’t difficult to find a pawn shop in an older neighbourhood after asking directions. The counter inside was very high and they nearly had to reach above their heads to show the pawnbroker their emptied leather wallets. The man offered them a ridiculously small sum of money, pointing at Dom’s golden watch with a greedy face.

Dom clutched his wrist defensively, mouth slackening. Not the watch.

“He’s not selling that,” Matt said coldly, before Dom could intervene.

The pawnbroker then pointed to Matt’s silver chain, only a gleaming sliver visible at his throat, the rest concealed beneath his clothing. The black-haired man shook his head instinctively, stumped at the proposal; but then he seemed to reconsider.

“Matt...“ Dom started. There were other shops where they could do business if they weren’t successful here.

“Have it, then.” Matt ignored him and took the chain off almost angrily, tossing it on the counter for the avaricious man to examine. The pawnbroker studied it for a few moments and after some haggling, they finally settled on a price.

When they stepped outside, Matt looked a little dazed, and he nearly tripped on the sidewalk. Dom wasn’t sure what to say and felt additional guilt that Matt had so quickly jumped in and prevented his father’s watch from being added to the pawnbroker’s considerable collection.

“You shouldn’t have done that. We could’ve checked somewhere else. I know what it meant to you.”

“Meant nothing,” Matt huffed. “Was just a bloody chain.”

Dom decided to say no more. Maybe it was time for Matt to let go, and stop living in denial; Gaia was not coming back.