Undercover Predicament

A/N-I wrote this because I was a bit stuck on What a Pain, fear not I am now back on the role with it!
Let me know what you think of this story please=)
R

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Chapter One

“Shit! The fuckers changed the codes!”

The whispered phrase echoed around the cramped surrounding ventilation shaft of a building that housed the renowned Italian drug lord Carmine Maioni.

Mika’s fingers flew across his black palm sized laptop that linked into the drug lord’s main server in an attempt to not get detected. If he didn’t crack this code soon, he would be chowder to the fish who resided in the murky waters of the Hudson. He shuddered.

The system was state of the art, with anti hacker programmes coming out of its ears. If you could manage to get past them without being detected then you had to crack the code that changed every ten minutes. He’d just been a tad too slow on this one. If he fucked up again he’d have to get the hell out of there and boy did he not want to tell his superiors that he’d buggered another mission. In fact he was pretty sure the hired goons were on to him already. He could hear the activity in the building had picked up a bit. The radio conversations of the thugs were conveniently up on his hand held.

A drop of sweat trickled down the back of his tight black shirt making his skin break out in goose bumps. Shit, he hoped he could do this. He didn’t want to be put on the shit missions again. He’d only just broken away from them. But hey, three strikes and you’re out!

He bit his lip in concentration, his fingers flying over the keys trying all the codes he could think of: date of birth, his children’s date of birth, hell he even tried their dogs! Nothing worked.

A crackling came over his monitor.

“Someone’s trying to get into the system!” Was shouted into the comms, followed by barked out orders to ‘find the son of a bitch’.

Fuck, he was running out of time. Six minutes had passed.

Think man think! He rushed through his memories trying to find something that might be used as a password. He’d read up on this Maioni bastard. He gave teens on the street a little taste of coke, saying it would ‘help’ them through their miserable life, offered them a job in his ‘business’. Pow! You were indebted to him; the only way to leave would be in a black bag if you were lucky.

Wait, no way could it be that simple. He wouldn’t have that as his password- would he?
Well, no harm in trying.

He typed the password into the box, stars showing the amount of letters entered. He hoped that it would work.

A few seconds later the welcome page for Carmine Maioni’s personal computer came up. He almost laughed. Sometimes he thought people were so stupid.

He pulled his data stick from a compartment sewn into his outfit and plugged it in. He found the file he was looking for and started to transfer the data.

Fifty percent complete, c’mon you can do this!

Suddenly his screen went black. Oh shit! What the fuck happened? It can’t have run out of power, these things had at least fifteen hours in them with a recovery of two hours. He calculated he’d only been using it for three.

He started pressing buttons to reboot the system. No way was he this unlucky.

A few seconds later an image of the drug lord flickered onto his screen. He recognised it from the pictures they were shown at HQ. His eyes grew wide- what the fuck? This surely didn’t bode well. He knew he should gather his things and get the hell out of there but he was frozen in place.

The menacing man was on his screen dressed in a neatly pressed black Armani suit and white silk tie. His greying hair brushed neatly in place and his dark brown eyes starring right into his soul. Shit did he look scary. The scar that sliced through his right eye and half way down his cheek made him look like some torturer ready to fuck him up. Hell that was probably right. A cold knot of fear curled in his stomach.

“We know where you are,” the voice was thick with an Italian accent. “Any minute now my men will reach you. Today is not your day.” That said the screen went completely blank and the red light on his data stick went out. Fuck, he was well and truly buggered.

He launched into action, quickly gathered his stuff and started to crawl his way back through the ventilation. Loud voices could be heard through the enclosed walls. They were below him.

Shit. He worked his way through the maze; a tiny light embedded into his glasses the only source of illumination. He tried his best not to hit the sides of the shaft, but he was so busy looking down that he forgot to check for any turns. He ran straight into the wall, a loud clang echoed through the place, he knew that alerted them to where he was. Shit- some spy he was. They could’ve heard that from space!

A flurry of activity started from below him, commands shouted in Italian followed by loud thumps and clatters as the underdogs hurried to complete the task. Breathing heavily he tried to hurry his way through the rest of the shaft.

One hand forward, then knee- keep going, don’t stop. He repeated this in his head, hoping to god that they didn’t find him. The curl of fear in his gut had now expanded to a lead weight spiralling up to his chest. How’d he get himself into this mess? He shouldn’t have been so careless, should’ve checked the traps, learned more about the security systems. Hell he should’ve had a better escape plan. Turn tail and run really didn’t look like it was going to work. He wished he had more experience. Trust superiors to send in a rookie.

He reached the end of the shaft, turned the mini light off then cautiously peeked through the metal grid. Safe, no one was there. Found him his arse!

He quietly opened the grid and hauled himself out of the ventilation shaft. He carefully replaced the grid.

No sooner had he done that he felt two pairs of strong hands wrap around him. One where his neck met his shoulder, the other on his upper arm. Before he knew what’d happened he was hauled up and pushed roughly through a wooden door. Two large men held him captive, both bald and obscenely muscled. He wasn’t going to be getting away from them using his Kung Fu. Crap.

His mind was racing. Shit, what the fuck was he gonna do? He was well and truly fucked. If he made it out alive he would lose his job, ten years of work down the drain. But hey, back to now. A cold hand of fear clutched at his chest and throat, threatening to choke him.

Shit, he didn’t want to die.

He was pushed into a lavishly furnished office. Black leather upholstery and a large green tropical plant in the far right corner. A large swivel chair was behind an ornate wooden desk, facing away from him. Nothing seemed unusual here. He continued looking around the large office. Shit, his entire apartment would fit into here, with room to spare. There didn’t seem to be any other exits apart from the door they came through and that was guarded by two burley men in black suits. They looked like the Men in Black.

Escape Plan A out the window. His superiors always said ‘Don’t crack under pressure’ well fuck, they weren’t about to meet the head of the Italian Mafia. This was so not good!

He was deposited roughly into one of the leather seats, and then flanked by the two muscle men. They were gonna kill him. Kill him dead. Well…he’d always liked fish.

The chair behind the desk slowly swivelled around revealing the same man who’s appeared on his laptop screen. He looked even more menacing up close. The floor to ceiling windows behind him made half of his face be overshadowed. He couldn’t see his eyes, only a sinister smile, which only served to make his already frayed nerves worse.

What was he going to do?

The head of the Italian Mafia regarded him with cold brown eyes. He looked pissed.
He leant forward and poured himself some brandy from a crystal decanter that was on his desk. The amber liquid sloshed up the sides of the glass. He bought it to his lips and took a sip.

“So, you thought you could break into my building and steal my documents eh?” the thick Italian voice was edged with a dark foreboding. This really didn’t seem good.

Mika casually drew his arms up, so his hands sat on either thigh and grabbed a fistful of his black trousers. There was a small sewn in compartment that enabled him to slip something inside his trousers undetected. He carefully opened said pocket and slowly, as to not draw attention to what he was doing pulled out a poison capsule he had, just in case. If he relayed any information to these hooligans he might as well be dead anyway.

He carefully rolled the capsule into the palm of his hand, now how to get it to my mouth without them stopping me.

Maybe he could do it really quickly? All that was needed was for the capsule to touch his tongue then the poison would be in his system, taking mere moments to affect his body and kill him.

“Well boy answer me! What were you going to do with the information?” Maioni’s voice rose with his temper.

Mika gulped, well it was now or never. The Mafia boss eyed him as he noticed Mika’s cautioned movements. He shot a look at the large men flanking the spy and made a barely perceptible nod at them. They moved closer to Mika and looked on guard, ready for anything the spy should do.

Crap, Mika thought, they’re onto me.

Suddenly he made his move, quickly bringing his hand to his mouth and trying to pop his death sentence into his mouth. He nearly made it however the large man on his right gripped his arm tightly and hauled him to his feet interrupting the momentum of the pill and causing it to fall to the floor.

Mika struggled desperately; he brought his foot down hard onto his capturers and sharply elbowed him in the stomach. The man grunted but didn’t loosen his grip on the struggling form.

The large man grabbed him and brought his bulging muscled arm around Mika’s neck, holding him in a lock and effectively stopping his struggles. Mika could hear the thudding of his heart in his ears, the man behind him was a solid wall of muscle.

Damn, if only he’d paid more attention when they were teaching him self defence, not that it would have helped that much considering the man holding him outweighed him in muscle density and was almost six foot five to his measly five foot five.

He gagged a bit when the arm tightened a fraction more around his throat; his hands grabbed the well muscled arm in an attempt to free himself from the grip.

Carmine Maioni leisurely pushed back his seat and walked around the front of his desk. He wandered over to where he was being held captive, a wicked gleam in his dark brown eyes. He slowly bent down and picked up the golden coloured capsule, bringing it close to his face and turning it around in his palm. He scrutinised the capsule for a few moments longer and then turned his gaze to Mika.

He nodded to his lackey, who finally loosened his grip around Mika’s neck. He gasped and took in the welcome air, feeling his lungs gratefully expand.

His head suddenly snapped to the right, a stinging pain throbbed across his right cheek. He could feel the warm trickle of his blood slide down towards the corner of his mouth. He turned stunned eyes towards the head of the Mafia.

Maioni pulled the white handkerchief from his right breast pocket and meticulously started to clean off Mika’s blood from his gold ring on his right hand.

When finished with the task he handed the soiled piece of material to the other bodyguard in the room and returned his attention to the spy.

“You thought you could escape us by taking Cyanide? What kind of fool did you take me for?”

He remained silent, knowing that whatever he came up with would only dig him a deeper grave.

“Answer me!”

Mika still remained silent; he could feel the lackey’s arms tighten around his torso, making it harder to breathe.

When he still remained silent Maioni looked towards the man behind him. His head was grabbed and turned roughly to the side, his neck muscle screaming out at the position. He tried to see what was going on; out of the corner of his eye he saw a silver glint. Was that a needle?

His struggles renewed but they were in vain. He felt the sharp sting of the needle piercing his skin and started to feel slightly nauseous as the liquid was slowly pumped into his veins. His body sagged in the arms of his detainer and his vision started to blur.

The Mafia boss sauntered into his line of vision a wicked smile planted on his face.

“You will tell us what you know, whether you want to or not.”

That was the last thing he heard before his world was swallowed up by a black abyss.