Fic: Resistance (chapter eleven)

[mjartrod]

CHAPTER 11


There was literally no time to react.

Dom’s head whipped around to see what could possibly be the reason for Matt’s panicked expression, but before he could discern anything beyond rapidly advancing shadowy human silhouettes, the two musicians had already been violently yanked out of the bed, sturdy clawed hands seizing them and dragging them across the floor in their underwear before they could even think of raising an objection. Wrists fastened behind their backs with some sort of rough cord, they were both forced to their knees, facing each other on opposite sides of the bedroom. Each was made to watch as the ruthless attacker behind the other pulled out a gun, flicked off the safety and pressed the cold metal against their temple.

Matt could see Dom squeezing his eyes shut, harshly biting his lip, and in that instant the singer saw his entire life flash before his eyes.

But nothing happened. Perpetual, petrifying silence had fallen over the flat. And then Matt flinched.

Footsteps.

It was the sound of someone’s shoes scuffing the floor as they entered the bedroom, the deliberate steps of someone who was in no rush but had a very precise mission. It was then that Matt realised how fast his heart was pounding, how for several seconds he had forgotten to breathe. A pair of legs in dark suit trousers appeared in his line of sight, eventually coming to a stop right in front of him and blocking the view across the room to Dom. It took Matt a long moment before he could steel himself to tentatively look up.

An Asian man stood before him in an expensive, impeccably well cut suit, the scent of subtle cologne that Matt would probably recognise under different circumstances reaching his nostrils. Despite his advanced baldness, the man didn’t seem very old and although he wasn’t very tall, the way he coldly stared down at the trapped singer, his gaze bordering on contemptuous, made Matt feel as though the stranger was standing on a high pedestal. At a short order in Cantonese from the authoritative figure, Matt’s gun-toting captor pulled the weapon away from his head and proceeded to search the bedroom, using a flashlight as he pawed through clothes, bedcovers, even underneath the mattress.

The clear leader of the operation straightened his tie, a luxury watch glinting on his wrist with the movement, his eyes never straying from Matt.

“One has to wonder what she ever saw in you. An insignificant little grub.” He began a slow stroll around the frozen musician trussed on the floor at his feet. “Not even a real man.”

Matt could feel the man’s stare burning into his skin, the words spinning around and around, rattling inside his brain. Who was ‘she’? Who was he talking about? His wife, girlfriend? Had Matt seduced his significant other? Had he slept with her? When had he last had anything sexual to do with an Asian woman? Maybe she wasn’t Asian. Maybe he hadn’t done anything but ogle her.

“But such are females. Always unpredictable and given to strange and incomprehensible acts. Especially the young, innocent ones.”

No, there had to be some mistake, Matt would never sleep with someone underage. Harmless flirting, maybe; but that was it, how could anyone take it the wrong way? He’d fucked up quite a lot recently, but not to such an extent. No, no, no, this was all a huge misunderstanding, that’s what it was. He shook his head dimly, swallowing, his voice almost inaudible when he spoke.

“I don’t know-“

“But of course you don’t know what I’m talking about, do you...”

The assailant who had been exhaustedly exploring the bedroom was now going through the rest of the small flat and the leader was again facing Matt with dark, expressionless eyes. And it suddenly dawned on him. He knew him. Matt recognised this person. After the shock of the attack, after the enigmatic accusations thrown his way, he realised he actually knew who this man was. They had never met before but the singer had seen pictures of him online, in Hong Kong, only two days prior. The unfamiliar name had first been mentioned to him at Hong Kong’s Chek Lap Kok Airport a few days ago when he’d been interrogated by the local police. A name that only a week ago was utterly unknown to him seemed to be permanently linked to his life now, his fate. And here he stood, not just a name but a tangible presence, threat made physical.

“You wouldn’t remember, so typical is your behaviour,” Zhang Hongbo continued. “But I know how the mind and body of a rock star works, I have for many years. I offer the right women to the artists who demand them, to the star who wants their desires or the desires of those who work for them fulfilled. For the right price, for those who are willing to pay, there is almost no limit to what I can offer.” His voice lowered. “A shame for you that my daughter’s dignity is not for sale.”

Dom’s eyes were wide, his head tilted to the side as he tried to distance himself from the gun at his temple. Matt’s stomach was churning, torn between hatred for the man who was currently circling him as if he was defenceless prey, and the need to understand exactly what he was talking about, as he had no idea who he could possibly be referring to. Groupies? Prostitutes? Had anyone in the crew, someone on the tour, gotten themselves into something dodgy...? But no, it couldn't be – this was personal and he was the target. Matt had to know, had to clarify why he was being persecuted; he needed to make sure for his own sake that he hadn’t done anything that could, in any way, justify what he was being put through.

But as he was opening his mouth to speak, his hair was pulled viciously from behind, the scent of the elusive cologne stronger.

“Do you have any idea how much it has cost me, how much money I’ve lost in the past two days because of you and your little boyfriend?” Zhang hissed spitefully in his ear. “Because you decided to play the hero, run off and make things difficult for everyone, instead of doing what you were supposed to do? Do you think I have nothing better to do than to worry about where you are, than to send people to look for you?” Tugging on the black hair harder as he spoke, he twisted a tuft around in his hand and Matt closed his eyes, trying not to give away how much it hurt. “When you went missing that first day, I confess I was amused. The second day, I was annoyed, but still not overly bothered. Now... now I am angry, Mr. Bellamy. Very angry.” He let go of his hair at last and Matt’s head dropped forward on his limp neck, his scalp throbbing. His whole body was trembling, not with fear but with rage, as it all began to sink in.

“You... used me. You robbed millions from Warners, used me, faked your own death and made everyone think I was part of some triad... Why? Because of your daughter? Who’s your daughter?”

The man crouched down before Matt, the same rigid expression on his clean-shaven face. “No, Mr. Bellamy. I understand that your delusional fantasies and megalomania badly distort your perception of reality, but I must not let you get confused. You are nothing more than a mere means to an end. You were chosen because you were convenient. Your name came up at the right time and that is it. You were perfect,” and there was a glint in his dark eyes now. “A convenient, irrelevant nobody...” his eyes narrowed, “...who turned into an irritating little pest. Who is about to be crushed with the force of an empire. It has been destined from the start.”

Matt felt his throat clogging, anger boiling inside as another brainstorm hit him. What was Zhang saying...? That there had been absolutely no reason for his torment? Was that what he was trying to tell him? That his life had been condemned for no reason other than him having the misfortune to become an insignificant pawn in someone else’s crooked schemes of thievery? He could not accept this; he refused to accept it, he was not going to accept it!

There had to be some sort of thirst for revenge here, something that had triggered this, something that could somehow justify, regardless of what fucked up logic was being used, why a complete stranger would exploit him so unscrupulously, with so little regard for his life. What kind of sick, deceitful bastard would plan something like this without even knowing Matt? There had to be something more to it.

“Tell me who your daughter is.” She had to be a fan, he knew it somehow. There had to be more to the cause of his hardships than simple, tragic ill luck, his involvement in all this couldn’t be the result of pure accident. “I’ll remember who she is if I met her.”

“Oh, I’ve no doubt you’ll remember her. She was so helpful that I’ll make sure you won’t forget her when you’re rotting in your cell.” Zhang stood up, again looking down on Matt. “There is no escape for you, Mr. Bellamy, all evidence points towards the fact that you threatened Zhang Hongbo with murder. You knew that his company had connections to your own record label. Was Warners not a recurring theme of conversation at many of your poker games in casinos the world over, where you played against some of Zhang Hongbo’s regular gambling patrons?”

“Weren’t you in Las Vegas only last December, drowning your sorrows, gambling the night away? It certainly seemed as if life wasn’t treating you well.” Matt was shaken to the core, swaying in disbelief as the other man’s mouth twitched in cruel amusement. “Matthew Bellamy, mourning past decisions that had brought him so much grief and regret. Including his band’s contract with Warners, so restrictive of artistic freedom. You wanted to end it, get out of it, before you were driven permanently mad. And what better way to do it... than to steal from Warners itself to pay the fee for terminating the contract early and create your own label?”

“That’s bollocks!” Matt burst out in a high pitched voice; each word he was hearing was like another needle sliding into his flesh. “Who’s gonna believe that?!”

Zhang released a hollow laugh, laced with scorn. “They already do. What’s so hard to believe about it? And there is evidence, too, plenty of evidence in your own computer. Evidence, too, that you joined the Sun Yee On Triad. Do you have any idea how many times you’ve played poker with their associates? In London and other parts of the world? You had muscle to back you up if Zhang Hongbo didn’t accede to your demands.

“As an honourable man, he attempted to sabotage your plan, but he was discovered. And then terminated. Unfortunately for you, the authorities were fast. And unless you cooperate in court and tell them who your accomplices are and where all the money is, you will be blamed for it all.”

The subordinate who had been searching the flat was back, instantly approaching his boss, the two conversing lowly in Cantonese. Matt was completely speechless, his gaze dropping to the floor as he processed these revelations. But without him registering, Zhang was turning his attention to the stunned musician again, fury lending colour to his pale features. And without warning, he struck Matt in the stomach with a pointy-toed shoe, the singer grunting and automatically folding over in pain, his forehead hitting the floor without his hands to catch his fall. Dom shifted uncomfortably, disgusted by everything he was witnessing, but his own sentinel clutched his shoulder in warning and the blond bit his tongue, fearing he’d make things worse if he spoke up.

Matt had barely recovered, coughing and spluttering from the severe kick he’d received, when he was pulled up by his hair. He cried out as his body was hauled the short distance to the bed, with his hands still tied behind his back. His chest and face were forced flat on the mattress, breathing nearly impossible, and a heavy body behind him crushed him against the bed, locking an arm around his throat. His head was pulled roughly back.

“Where. Is. The. Laptop.”

“Don’t know...” The reply was wheezed out as Matt’s head swam, eyes watering with pain.

The response wasn’t satisfactory. Matt’s arm was cruelly twisted, so harshly, in fact, that for a brief moment the blinding pain had him convinced his shoulder had been dislocated. Zhang was beside the bed now, and through the anguished haze the musician was aware that he was taking a gun from inside his jacket as he spoke.

“I don’t like to personally spill blood or use other barbaric methods of persuasion, but sometimes they’re a necessary evil.” He pressed the gun barrel against the gash on Matt’s cheek. “You were asked a question, Mr. Bellamy.”

“I don’t have it...” Matt breathed.

Another brusque twist of his arm, accompanied by the small sound of a crack, and this time Matt screamed, a beefy hand immediately shooting out to clamp over his mouth and muffle his voice, splitting his lip against his teeth in the process. The taste of blood in his mouth was almost a welcome distraction from the pain they were inflicting on him. He was sure that another pull and his bone would snap.

“Stop it! Jesus, stop it! He doesn’t have it!”

The grip on Matt slackened and the criminals turned their eyes to Dom, the blond’s skin covered in a layer of panic-induced perspiration. He couldn’t watch this any longer, he couldn’t bear seeing them hurt Matt like this. Sod the clawed hand on his shoulder and the gun in his face, none of it mattered.

Despite his strained voice, Dom tried his best to keep his composure. “Leave him alone, he’s telling the truth... he doesn’t have it...”

Matt closed his eyes, cold sweat making him shudder, his body tingling in excruciating agony. They would turn on Dom now; they would turn on Dom and they would hurt him as well if he didn’t do anything to prevent it.

“He doesn’t, doesn’t -“

“Very well, Mr. Howard.” Zhang ignored Matt, his sugary, condescending tone making Dom want to puke all over his shiny shoes. “The computer is not here, we know that much. So where is it?”

“We don’t know, we were attacked twice by someone...” Dom took a deep breath. “First time we managed to run away, but the second time they got it...” They had to believe them.

Approaching Dom, the businessman signalled to the lackey who held him captive; the gun was shoved harder against the side of his head, Dom’s eyes closing in reflex, as he was grabbed more firmly.

“Don’t! He’s telling the truth, let him go! He’s telling the truth!” Matt’s words tumbled over each other, his voice hoarse.

“Tell us the truth, Mr. Bellamy. And your little boyfriend won’t die.”

“It’s the truth, I swear it’s the fucking truth! We lost it this afternoon!”

In the midst of the pain, despite the terror that they wouldn’t believe them and the consequences that could bring, there were still two facts that leaped out at Matt as Zhang observed him wordlessly, trying to read him: he’d been wrong and the actual possessors of the laptop were not Zhang’s people; this fact had instigated fear in the villain. Matt also understood that the bloody computer was again more important than their lives, and that if the entrepreneur no longer found the two of them useful, this flat could become their graveyard.

Silence had set in again, Matt aware that he had Zhang’s full attention.

“We lost the laptop, but...” He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to keep the sharp pain in his arm at bay. He needed to keep his cool if he was to have any hope of keeping them alive. “We lost it but it’s dead, we broke it when we were running away from the police...” The anticipation and anxiety, the barely detectable pang of relief that emerged on Zhang’s features for a split second encouraged Matt.

“You’re bluffing. Don’t gamble with me; you will lose.”

“No! No, I’m not, it’s true...” Matt heaved, struck with a bout of self-belief despite his foe’s threats. “We don’t know the extent of the damage... it could be repaired, we don’t know...” Zhang glanced at his henchman and the arm around Matt’s neck squeezed tighter, choking him so his following words came out in gasps, the Asian businessman advancing on him again. “... unless we could identify the person who took it and it was recovered bef-before...” And he was unable to continue, his air supply reduced to the point his mouth hung partially open, soundless.

Zhang lifted a hand once he reached the two of them again and at his command Matt’s torturer loosened his grip around his throat and then stepped back completely. The singer dropped sideways onto the bed, taking deep, sharp breaths interspersed with coughs as the businessman examined him with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“What is it that you want, Bellamy? Time?” He whispered, cocking his head to the side inquisitively. “People do desperate things to gain more time. Your friend, Michelle, for example.” Matt’s eyes shot up to meet Zhang’s at the mention of the flat’s owner. “Last night the whore babbled for hours about two English guests she had staying in this very apartment.

“Tonight, when confronted about their identities, she denied all knowledge of you. Then she said she didn’t know who you were, that you were nothing but randomers that she’d helped out on a whim and that you‘d already left. After some more persuasion, she told us everything. To buy time, she offered to come home and extract information from you...” He shook his head as if the proposition had been absurd. “I don’t need a pathetic tranny who only earns me a couple of thousand dollars a week.” Matt and Dom exchanged an agonised look as Zhang paced the bedroom once more, lead in their stomachs as they realised what had probably happened to their delightful hostess.

“Careful with what you offer, Bellamy... I might decide to ship you or your friend to Thailand, maybe you could be of some use to me there... or perhaps you’ll not leave Hong Kong alive at all.” Stepping closer to Matt again, he gestured to his two minions. “Congratulations, you’ve bought yourselves some time, Bellamy.” He looked intently into the blue eyes. “But nothing more.”

***

The screens were still and lifeless.

All the equipment in the space was primed and ready to run at maximum capacity, but so far there had been no sound and the pictures had remained static for a fair few hours now, only the required console buttons lit up.

And then one of the screens suddenly came to live.

A man spun in his chair, setting his glass of amber-coloured whisky firmly on the table, and he shot his eyes across the room to the source of the low beeping, to where an intermittently flashing green light was visible on the main control board. His companion was already on his feet, removing the two-way radio from the clip on his belt.

“Alpha 1 speaking. We have a green light.”

Comments

[muserocks1.livejournal.com]

Oh gosh darnit! I missed this chapter :( see, I thought the transition was a bit weird between the bedroom scene and them being kidnapped XD this also explains how they were found :( poor Michelle...

I'm such an idiot for missing this....