The Brotherhood (MM/MM) (Illustrated) UPDATE 6/29 chpt 22
Posted: Tue Oct 01, 2019 7:16 pm
Prologue
“You sure they will come here, brother?”
“The Master is. He has never been mistaken so far”
Dave and Jim climbed off the cabin of their van. The weather was still mild, yet it was the beginning of autumn. Dave had parked the van away from the forest paths, which meant the young men were going for a little walk till they reached the cabin. They walked silently, engulfed in their black cloaks. Dave was carrying a heavy duffel bag. The only noise they made was the leaves and small branches creaking under their leather combat boots.
“So”. Dave broke the silence. “Is this your first operation?”
“Yes”. Jim replied swiftly. “I joined the Brotherhood and received my communion five months ago. I was trained all along. Two days ago, Brother Cort told me that my training is complete and that the Master had an assignment for me”.
“Praised be the Master, for he did you a great honor”
“Praised be the Master”.
They had been walking for ten minutes now. Despite his cape and his brown long-sleeved pull-over, Jim was starting to feel a bit chilly. He pulled the hood of his cape over his head.
“Didn't you park the van too far away?”
“No, Brother. The targets are expert killers. If they get any clue about our presence, we would never catch them”. He paused. “In fact, we'll probably end up dead. In any case, we would have failed the Brotherhood”.
“Who are these guys? I know they're supernatural hunters but Brother Cort didn't told me much…”
“Sam and Dean Winchester. Expert hunters, trained by their father since they were children. The reunited and are now looking for their missing dad. And they still enforce their family business”.
“Does the Master want to recruit them for the Brotherhood?”
“I don't know. The will of the Master is not to be questioned”.
They arrived in sight of the cabin. One level, made of wood, isolated in the middle of the forest. Just like in horror shows. A few more steps and they arrived in front of the door. The old wood of the small porch creaked under their boots. Though the whole cabin seemed pretty rustic, the door was solidly locked.
“So” said Dave with a friendly smile, “let's see if Brother Cort trained you well”.
Jim was already grabbing his lock-picking stuff.
“Aren't you forgetting something?” asked Dave with a mocking tone. “You don't want your fingerprints tracked down”.
“Sorry” whispered Jim as he took from his pocket a pair of black latex gloves and put them on. “Won't happen again, brother”.
“Hey, relax, brother!” replied Dave with a friendly smile as he put his own gloves on. “I'm not here to evaluate you. Your training is over. We're all equal servants of the Master now”.
It only took a few seconds for Jim to open the door. The two cultists entered the lobby of the cabin.
“Not much to see here. It's almost empty. And there has been nobody here from a long time, judging by the dust” remarked Jim.
“Good thing. So we have a little time to settle down”. Dave put the heavy duffel bag he was carrying on the floor and nodded to Jim.
“Come on, see if we have all the stuff!”
“Of course”.
The first thing he extracted from the bag were two heavy bundles made of white canvas. Straps with metal buckles were attached to each, and dangled as he pulled them off.
“Straitjackets!” Jim said fascinated. “Does the Organisation still work with those? I though we moved on to cuffs and ropes a long time ago?”
“Technically yes” Dave answered. “But according to the information I have, these won't be enough this time. Dean Winchester was once arrested by the police and uncuffed himself in ten seconds using a ballpoint pen. And their father trained them to escape rope as well”. He paused. “But brother Cort explained to you all about straitjackets, right?”
“Of course. Five straps behind to lock the jacket, one strap on the front to lock the arms, one crotch strap to prevent the captive removing the straitjacket like a shirt, and of course the strap at the end of the sleeves to connect the arms together in the back” Jim recited proudly.
“Good. And the color at the collar?” Dave asked, like a professor questioning his best pupil.
“Red stands for “small”, and green for “medium”. Although the straitjackets are tailored very large, so it rather means “large” and “extra-large” “. Jim paused and frowned. “Are they so tall?”
“The green one is for Sam Winchester. Despite being the younger one, he's 6'4”.
“Woah”. Jim dumped the straitjackets on the floor and continued searching in the bag. He picked two leather panels. They each had a rather large leather plug riveted to one side and two straps attached to them.
“Already seen these?” Dave asked.
“Of course. I know what a panel gag looks like and how efficient they are. I tested one myself during training. But are they really necessary here? I mean, we're in the middle of nowhere, no one can hear them”.
“If what I was told about the Winchesters is true, they might prove useful nevertheless”.
“Ah!” exclaimed Jim, as he extracted a pair of metal regulation handcuffs. “Unavoidable” he said, as he slipped one pair into his belt.
“My guess is that you won't even need them”, Dave responded.
“Really, brother? I know straitjackets are efficient, but it's a hell of a fight to put a reluctant captive in it. And even if we're both well trained, it's a two versus two fight here...”
“Yes. Two versus two. But there is no rule in the Brotherhood which says it has to be a fair fight.” Jim gave him a wondering look. “Look in the side pocket”.
The duffel bag was almost empty now, but Jim found some gray rags, and a little brown glass bottle. He took it and read the label. “CHCl3”.
“Oh”, he said, grinning at Dave. “I see”.
Dave returned him his grin. “I think I hear their car. Watch and learn!”