Page 58 of Retrograde

Fuck him. He doesn’t scare me enough to just let him take what he wants.

“Talking like that doesn’t make your dick any bigger, you pathetic piece of shit!” I spit out, misting his face with blood. Grim satisfaction cuts through my fear when I see his eyes narrow in anger.

“Whatever the fuck he did to you, I’ll make you cherish Aron’s memory, you worthless cunt.”

I see an opening and grab it.

“Aren’t you at least going to try and save him? He’s your leader! What kind of clowns are you all?”

His features darken with more than just rage this time: remorse, regret, guilt. Bullseye! So easy.

“They took him to their base in Revnik. It’d be a fucking suicide mission. We don’t do that. He wouldn’t have wanted that.” He almost stammers, trying to justify himself.

The plan forms in my mind so fast it’s like it’s always been there, ready to be put to action.

“Revnik? Are you sure?” I ask breathlessly.

Atilla frowns in confusion, distracted enough to keep his filthy, disgusting hands to himself.

“Yes, I’m sure. We watched them take him away.”

“How long have I been down here?” With my eyes locked into his, I’m commanding him to answer me.

“What?” He stares at me dumbly.

“How-long-have-I-been-down-here?” I repeat, gritting my teeth.

“About two weeks.”

Is that all it was? It has felt like years.

“I can get him out!” I blurt out, not giving Attila any chance to snap out of his baffled stupor. “I’ll go there and bring him back.” Intentionally, I don’t phrase it as a question.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He blinks hard, scowling.

The recurring wafts of his breath in my face are nauseating.

“Just think, you idiot!” I sneer at him with more bravado than I feel. “They won’t know I’m with you! They won’t know! No one keeps tabs on my movements anymore. It’s not unusual for me to go off the radar for a week or two to shoot abandoned villages or poverty-stricken territories that they can then claim to be saving.”

“They’re not saving⁠—”

“I fucking know! Don’t get distracted. The point is, I can walk in there, and no one will say shit. No one will question my presence.” I square my shoulders and tilt my chin up— anything to make myself bigger in his presence. “I’m Volker’s favourite puppet. I can go anywhere I want. I can get Aron out.”

His eyes widen, and he exhales, staring at me open-mouthed.

“Are you not hearing me? I can get him out! I know the place. It’s an old garrison, dating back to medieval times. It’s overcrowded as it is, so they’ll likely be keeping him chained and padlocked in the unused stables for now. I even know where they keep the spare keys.” I have no idea whether the blank look he gives me is a sign of confusion or disbelief, but in any case, I plough on. “They wouldn’t have killed him. They’ll want to make an example of him, publicly. He’s still there ... unless they moved him already.”

“He is.” He finally snaps out of whatever that was. “We’re monitoring their movements from a distance. They haven’t moved him.”

His pale eyes scan my expression, studying me as he ponders my words.

“I’ll bring him back,” I repeat forcefully.

“How do I know you’re not just going to run away?” he asks with more providence than I would have expected of him.

I was really hoping he would fail to think this through.

“Corrado,” I say reluctantly. “If you keep him here, I’ll come back with or without Aron.”