Poe & Gamble
Two Hours Later
Eight P.M.
Gamble slowly came awake, and he could hear voices all around him. Someone was talking on the phone, or to another person.
Instead of moving, he surveyed his situation.
What he knew was he was hanging from something. His arms were above his head, and something was cutting into his wrists.
Shackles?
That could be a possibility.
It was also musty wherever he was. So did that mean he had to be in a basement?
Did the estate have one of those?
Well, it had been a castle at one point, so likely. Now, he just hoped there wasn’t a moat and a dragon, so this got even worse for him.
As he listened, he was able to hear most of the conversation that the man was having while on the phone.
“Don’t worry, Boss. We have him locked in the dungeon. The doctor is at the grave. We think it’s buried with the brother. There is absolutely no footlocker here. Hemmingway had to take it with him.”
There were some murmurs, and then more talking.
“Oh, don’t worry. No one will find the Duke’s body. His reign here was short lived. We’ll bury him with his twin in the same casket.”
Well, fuck.
He had to get out of there.
NOW.
Gamble slowly opened his eyes, keeping his head down, so he could see where the man was without him realizing he was awake.
After that, he tried to get some feeling back in his hands because he was going to need them. Not far away, his sword was leaning against the wall.
He needed a weapon, unconventional or not.
The man began talking again.
“The Duke of Norfolk got his money, and he’ll not say a word. Okay, I’ll let you know.”
Gamble had news for the Duke of Norfolk. He was a dead man at some point. It was only a matter of time.
When the man hung up, Gamble played possum.
The guy watching him yelled up to someone.
“Bring some knives, a torch, and anything else you can find. Von wants him tortured to make sure he doesn’t know where it is, and then killed. We’re to leave him in the basement.”
“Okay!” someone yelled back.
When the guy moved closer to Gamble, he flicked at the medals on his chest.
“I bet you blew everyone to get those medals,” he said. “Fucking fag.”
And that’s when Gamble struck, using the hook holding him in place to carry his weight. He swung his legs up, wrapped them around the mercenary’s neck, and twisted really fast.
They both heard the crack.
Only, one of them was going to keep living, and one wasn’t after it. The mercenary paid by Von wasn’t winning that round.
Not today.
They shouldn’t have touched his husband. That was their biggest mistake.
When the man dropped to the floor, Gamble jumped up, and unhooked his arms. Then, he was free from that position. Now, he had to get these shackles off of his wrists so he could fight.
As he patted the man down, he didn’t have a key.
Fuck.
He needed to get to Poe at the cemetery, and he didn’t have time. The only saving grace was it took time to dig up a grave.
As he heard another man coming, he stood by the entrance, and when he came in, he wrapped the chains around his neck, and strangled him.
The man fought, but Gamble forcing him to the floor to stand on his back as he choked him was too much for the man to sustain.
Torture him?
Yeah, that wasn’t happening. The day he went down to some two-bit Marine washouts was the day he packed up his job and retired.
As he searched the dead man’s pockets, he found the key, and he unlocked his wrists. Then, he locked the door, and headed out.
As he moved through the castle, it was fairly empty. That told him everything he needed to know. The party had been disbanded, and he’d bet that was the Duke of Norfolk’s doing too.
Oh, every dog would have his day, and that man’s would come.
Bet.
On.
It.
As for the other Mercenaries, they would be where Poe was, because the man would assume he wouldn’t be able to outmaneuver two of his men.
Big mistake.
It was a race against time, but Gamble was not letting his husband get hurt. He’d get to him, no matter what.
Outside, he got to his horse, and rode out of there like a bat out of hell.
“Get to Hemmingway,” he said, letting the horse go crazy and charge through the dark night toward the cemetery.
What was his plan?
He didn’t have one yet.
But he’d figure it out.
Poe’s life depended on it.