Chapter Text
A shaft of moonlight shone through the barred window onto the floor where Nate sat against the wall of his cell. The prison was quiet except for the distant sounds of laughter from the guards and the heavy footsteps of the patrol on the walkways above.
Nate turned the broken cross over in his hand as he had done a thousand times before, studying it as if this time it might reveal an answer, as if this time he would discover some clue to the mystery he had sacrificed his life for.
It had been fifteen years since he had seen the world outside the prison walls. It was strange to think that he had come here willingly all those years ago. They thought it would only be temporary. They thought nothing would go wrong.
Nate tucked the cross back in his pocket and glanced across the cell. Apparently Nate wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep tonight. His cellmate was standing at the bars silently, staring out into the dark hallway.
Hector Alcázar was a small but tough man. Nate stood a few inches over him but he wouldn’t dare to say that he would ever look down on him.
The crime lord's brutality was infamous. When they had first moved Alcázar into his cell, it might as well have been a death sentence. If the crime lord ever decided he wanted a private room, Nate wouldn’t survive the night. Nate had turned on his humor and charm, not without a good dose of fear and humility, and attempted to make himself an interesting enough diversion that he was worth keeping around.
Luckily the Spanish arms dealer had taken more than a little interest in his stories about Henry Avery and lost pirate treasure. But Nate still slept lightly and didn’t dare turn his back to the Butcher of Panama.
“Listen,” Alcázar said. “The guards, they are singing.”
Nate listened quietly to the slurred singing that was echoing from somewhere down the corridor. “They sound drunk.”
“Yes,” Alcázar said. “But they are content. How can they be content with their small lives? Their miserable jobs?”
“Well,” Nate said, “They probably have wives to go home to. Good food. Good beds... That’s better than what we’ve got. No offense.”
“We have ambition,” Alcázar snapped. “And when we get out of here, that ambition will take us places those idiots cannot even imagine.”
Nate laid down on his cot and tried to find the softest spot on the thin mattress. “I like your optimism.”
“What will you do when you get out, Nathan?”
“I’ve been here fifteen years,” Nathan said. “I’m starting to worry I’ll never see the outside of these walls.” He meant it as a joke, but he couldn’t keep out the painful twist in his throat that suggested it might be true.
“Ah,” Hector said, not turning back to look at Nate. “But you would die if you could not imagine a life beyond this cell. Tell me, what would you do if you were free?”
Nate took the hint and smiled. “I would discover the greatest pirate treasure of all time.”
Alcázar sighed, “Henry Avery and his lost treasure have become a sweet lullaby for me.”
He stood there, looking out into the hallway, the dim light of the corridor barely outlining his silhouette in the darkness. He finally glanced back at Nate, his eyes small points of light in the darkness. “Do you really think you could find it?”
“Given the opportunity?” Nate smiled. “Absolutely.”
Alcázar chuckled. “Like I said: ambition. What is your Avery quote?”
Nate nodded, “I am a man of fortune, and I must seek my fortune”
Alcázar grunted in agreement. “I like how he thinks.”
In the distance there was a rumble that might have been thunder.
Nate sat up and rose to his feet warily. He knew the sound of machine gun fire too well to mistake it for anything else.
“What the hell was that?”
“The opportunity of a lifetime,” Alcázar said. “And you’re going to help me find it.”
There was a panicked shout suddenly cut short. Heavy, running footsteps turned into four, armed men as they rounded the corner. They saw Nate and leveled their guns at him. Nate backed up, but there was nowhere in the small cell he could go.
The men unlocked the door and stepped inside, arming Alcázar with guns and armor. One of Alcázar’s men glanced at Nate and spoke quietly in Spanish.
Alcázar looked back at Nate and smiled, answering back in Spanish.
Nate looked between them hoping Alcázar hadn’t just ordered his men to shoot him.
“Are you ready to seek your fortune, Nathan?” Alcázar asked.
Nate glanced at him and smiled nervously. “Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice.”
Alcázar chuckled, “Indeed.”
One of the men grabbed Nate and pulled him out of the cell. The group started down the hallway at a jog.
Now that they were out, Alcázar’s men didn’t pay Nate any attention, but it wasn't like he could run away. He was probably going to die in Alcázar’s insane escape attempt, but Nate didn’t dare risk Alcázar’s annoyance if he slowed them down by trying to stay behind.
The prisoners around them yelled and clambered at the bars as they ran past. They rounded the corner where two guards had, until very recently, been at their posts. One was lying face down on the floor. The other was slumped in his chair. They were both very dead.
In the office beyond, more guards lay lifeless on the ground. Nate heard a groan behind him and turned around. One of the guards was dragging himself away from them. Nate looked away as Alcázar aimed his gun and fired.
Alcázar looked at Nate, something like amusement in his eyes. He pulled the gun from the dead man’s holster and tossed it to Nate. “These men are sadistic, Nathan. We’re doing the world a favor.”
He turned to his men. “Open all the doors.”
“Wait!” Nate said. “It will be complete chaos if you do that.”
Alcázar chuckled. “Exactly.”
The metal clamps released and every door in the prison swung open. Throughout the prison, the alarms started wailing in panic.
“Stay close, Nathan,” Alcázar grinned.
His thugs pushed open the metal doors and they charged ahead under the cover of the riot. Guards fell from the second or third floor walkways as prisoners pushed them over the edge. Guards and inmates alike were shot down by Alcázar’s men if they happened to cross the crime lord’s path.
Nate did his best to keep his head low and stay out of the crossfire as they advanced through the prison. Somewhere in the back of his brain, his mind was trying to come up with some witty crossover between “Panama” and “pandemonium”, as if bad puns would save him from a prisoner’s fist or guard’s baton. Reality set in as a guard’s head thunked off the railing beside him as he fell from an upper story. Nate glanced at Alcázar’s back and realized how quickly the crime lord would leave him if he was struck down or fell behind.
He quickened his pace and tried to tune out the shouts, maniacal laughter, and screams that echoed off the walls around him.
They battled their way across the prison and burst into a room where they were sheltered temporarily from the chaos outside. The men barred the doors behind them.
Nate looked around and realized they were trapped. The walls were solid concrete. There was no door other than the one they had come through that barely held at bay the raging tide of bodies outside.
Somebody’s head dented into the door as if in emphasis.
One of Alcázar’s henchmen pulled out his radio and spoke into it sharply in Spanish.
“Nathan, get behind something,” Alcázar said.
Nate looked at him. “What? Why?”
Alcázar grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him down behind the cover of an overturned desk.
An explosion sent chucks of concrete and drywall flying through the air.
Nate peered over the edge of the desk. Through the new hole in the wall, he saw a team of armed soldiers waiting on the other side.
"Oh my god."
Alcázar stood and walked towards them as if they were polite hotel workers who had just opened the door for him. Nate scrambled back to his feet.
Alcázar's men led the way through the maze-like passages of the outer prison. The winding complex of walls and concrete were beginning to look dangerously familiar.
Nate desperately tried to keep away feelings of dread and deja vu. Every step further made his chest ache with the scars of the old gunshot wound he had earned in his last attempt to escape from this infernal place. For some reason, he found himself listening for Sam to call his name.
Nate put his head down and focused on following Alcázar.
He didn’t see the guard until the baton slammed into his ribs, knocking Nate to the ground.
Nate tried to roll away but the guard pinned him against the wall. Nate grabbed the man’s rifle as he raised it to fire. There was a loud blast and the guard sank to his knees, suddenly missing a considerable weight from the top of his head.
“Come on, Nathan,” Alcázar growled, lowering his gun. “Keep up.”
Nathan gingerly pushed the dead man’s body away from him and followed after Alcázar.
They were heading in the opposite direction he and Sam had taken years before. Alcázar was leading them not toward the cliff but to the front gate.
Bullets suddenly ricocheted overhead and they all ducked to find cover. The scars Nate’s chest ached, though he knew he hadn’t been hit.
The prison guards were trained but they were nothing against Alcázar’s men. They dropped so easily in the wake of the thugs that it seemed cruel.
A guard raised his head and took aim at Alcázar. Nate leapt over the low cover and kicked him back hard against the wall. He slammed the heavy butt of the rifle down with a thick crack against the man’s skull and the guard dropped limply to the floor.
Alcázar smiled and nodded at him. Nate tried to convince himself that the concussion the guard would wake up with was probably a mercy: he would, at least, wake up.
He looked up as they rounded the corner into the courtyard.
Nate gaped. “Jesus Christ.”
The courtyard was a warzone. Everything was on fire. Watchtowers burned and shots were being fired in every direction. Through the smoke and chaos, it was impossible to tell friend from foe. A stream of heavy artillery fire was destroying what little cover Nathan could find and Alcázar and his men were still moving on relentlessly.
“Nathan!” Alcázar yelled from somewhere ahead.
“I’m pinned down!” Nate shouted back, ducking as a line of bullets whistled through the air over his head.
A massive explosion shook the ground and Nathan peered out just in time to see the watchtower collapsing in on itself, taking the heavy artillery with it.
Alcázar led them up the stairs and over the top of the wall. They dropped to the ground on the other side just as three white vans pulled up.
“Inside! Go!” Alcázar yelled.
With the crack of gunfire behind him, Nate didn’t need to be told twice. He leapt in the van after Alcázar and heard the metal ping of the bullets as the door slammed closed behind him and the car took off.
Nathan sank to the floor of the truck in stunned silence. Alcázar took a flask of water and handed it to him.
Nathan took it cautiously. "Thank you."
“How long until you find Avery’s treasure?”
Nate blinked. “What?”
Alcázar glared. “How long?”
“Oh, um... Well first I have to get back to the States. See if my contacts are still around. Continue my research… It’s hard to say until I actually get going on it. It’s not really an exact science.”
Alcázar looked up at the driver. “Deténgase aquí.”
The van screeched to a halt.
The door opened and Nate was dragged out and thrown to the ground. A thug pulled his gun. Nate was on his back in the dust. He held up his hands and looked from the gun to Alcázar, pleading.
“I like you, Nathan,” Alcázar said, getting out of the van. “More importantly, I believed you. But now… I am beginning to doubt.”
“I-I can find it,” Nathan stammered. “I just need time.”
Alcázar turned to one of his men and spoke in Spanish and the guard handed Alcázar his knife.
“Woah, Alcázar. Wait. Wait!” Nate gasped. “I will get it. I will find it. I swear.”
Alcázar lunged forward and pressed the knife to Nate’s throat, pinning him to the ground. “How long?”
Fear and adrenaline were hammering through Nate’s veins. His mind raced. “Six months,” he gasped.
“People always ask for more time than they need. Three months.”
“That’s impossible!”
“Three months. Half the treasure. Can you do it?” Alcázar asked.
Nate could feel the blade biting into his neck, already drawing blood. “Yes,” he whispered. “I can do it.”
Alcázar smiled and stood up. “The nearest town is ten kilometers in that direction, towards the sunrise. It’s been a while since you’ve seen the sunrise outside, huh?”
Alcázar threw a water bottle and a wad of cash in the dirt beside Nate and then climbed back in the van with his men.
Nate looked up at him, shock and fear leaving him feeling weak. “When I find it, then what? How do I contact you?”
“Don’t worry. When the time comes, I’ll be there to collect.” Alcázar smiled, “Buena suerte, Nathan. For your sake, I hope you find it.”