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"Fuck him!"
The next vase shattered against the wall and only missed Gupta's head by inches. The Egyptian didn't even blink. Whenever Sadiq threw a tantrum it was wise to pretend to be invisible. For three entire hours the Turk was rampaging through his mansion now, destroying everything that crossed his path. Gupta silently followed him around, cleaning up the mess his boss was making.
"That goddamned bastard! I'll rip his sorry head off his shoulders, I'll kill him! I'll… I'll murder him, crush him between my palms, peel his skin off, I'll fucking make him pay!" An old amphora crashed to the floor and the ceramic didn't stand a chance. The African allowed himself a tiny smile. It was more than obvious that Sadiq was utterly speechless due to that cheekiness. Just this morning a distressed young Bulgarian had stuttering reported that a spyware had been located on all of their computers and that they hadn't been able to remove it yet. It was only a matter of seconds for the tan man to realize who was responsible for this.
"Did you get rid of it yet?" The Turk bellowed, seemingly at no one but thin air. The Egyptian man waiting patiently in the back shook his head but then remembered that his boss couldn't see him from where he was standing. So he added: "No, sir."
This time Gupta had to duck his head in order dodge the flying furniture. He briefly wondered where the others were. Elizaveta should have returned yesterday night but she hadn't shown up yet. Sadiq obviously had the same thought. "And why are we all alone with that? Don't I have specialists? I remember black-mailing a good dozen of professionals! Where the hell have they taken off to?"
"Sadiq, calm down already." Gupta sighed under his breath. The Turk was pacing up and down with his hands folded behind his back. He kind of resembled a caged in tiger. At his comment Sadiq jerked his head in his direction and even with the mask obscuring his face you could see the blazing in his eyes.
"Are you seriously telling me to calm down? You are, aren't you?" he growled and slowly walked up to him until their faces were only half a centimeter away from each other. "Now you listen, Hassan. The day I need advice from an inferior is the day I'll massacre every fucking person in this house, are we clear?"
Gupta narrowed his eyes for a few seconds and then dutifully replied: "Yes, sir. My humblest apologies."
The two men stared at each other for a few moments; no emotion was displayed on their faces.
"Whatever…" At once the intimidating aura of the tall Turk crumbled. He gave the African a tired pat on the shoulder and turned away. "I'm sorry, Gupta. I didn't mean to snap at you like this. I'm just worn out… Leave. …Please."
"Want me to send in some women, boss?" he half-smiled as he headed for the door. Before he left he could hear Sadiq's half-sincere chuckle and a muttered: "Send Lizzy as soon as she's back."
Gupta couldn't suppress to answer: "She'd bite your head off." With this he shut the door.

The silence that lay around the mansion was so loud it was pressing on his ears. His steps echoed through the empty halls and he never crossed paths with anybody. The whole place was deserted. Sadiq's house was located not far away from Izmir. It was a big villa that sat right at the foot of a hill. Back in his study he sat down and continued his paperwork. He scribbled a few numbers on the bills and filled in some formulas but he didn't get anywhere with his work. In the end he just followed his thoughts without paying attention to anything. Suddenly Gupta caught himself staring at the map in front of him. Out of a mood he took a pen and drew a red circle around Athens where Heracles Karpusi had been spotted the last time. Sadiq had been eager to find his hideout for months. To think that these two men, who hated each other with the force of thousand suns (so to speak), were separated by the mere sea…
If someone had asked the Egyptian about his opinion regarding their relationship and that constantly increasing hatred for each other they would have gotten a rather short answer. In his opinion this was a matter of broken hearts. He had been with Sadiq long enough to recognize a pattern. He had been with him long enough to have met Heracles even though it was just a brief moment of name-exchanging. The image he had gotten of the young Greek was a little different from what Sadiq used to say. Despite the Turk's explicit descriptions he hadn't found a real reason to dislike him. Heracles was a thoughtful, friendly man who loved cats and sleeping, at least that's what Gupta remembered. Maybe he had changed, he most likely had. There was no other way to survive here. While the African rose to his feet and headed for the door he kept pondering over the two men's relationship. When they had lived together here in this mansion they had used to avoid each other, but whenever the Greek hadn't been paying attention a very weird smile would spread across Sadiq's face. It had been the same with Heracles. He had never smiled at the Turk but his expression always became very thoughtful when he secretly had been watching him out of a corner or from the other side of the room. The day Heracles had left was the day Sadiq had changed. The Egyptian sat on the small sofa next to the door in his quarters and closed his eyes. He remembered that night very well, especially because it had been so noisy.
…

"Don't! Don't come near me! You're pissed! You don't know what you're doing!"
"C'mon, Heracles… I thought you Greeks are into that kinda stuff."
A loud thud sounded through the whole house. Gupta looked up from his paperwork with a worried frown. He could hear the voices even though he wished he could turn them out.
"Let's celebrate a bit, my kitten. Your daddy just has made a lot of money. Come over here."
"Stop saying such things! What the-"
"Don't be scared… You'll like it."
"No! Don't touch me! Don't-"
Then there was silence for a few seconds beside heavy breathing and wordless struggling. The Egyptian clenched his teeth and waited. A muffled scream came from the other room, followed by a low groan.
"Just as I thought…" the dark drunken voice triumphed now."You look so much cuter with something in your mouth."
There wasn't an answer, only choked sobbing.
"Now, now, Heracles, my kitten. You're all grown up now, no point in cryin', isser? –Hah, that's better, good boy."That was followed by a variety of many different sounds Gupta never wanted to hear.
"Go to hell!" the other voice suddenly bellowed and a vase shattered. The Egyptian's stomach turned a somersault when he heard someone vomiting. A man coughed violently and then yelped as though someone had pulled at his hair rather crudely.
"A weak stomach is no excuse, you brat! ...Get your little ass back here. I'm not done with ya."
Gupta tried his best to shut the noises out but it was impossible. A small part of him wanted to help the poor kid that was being tortured next door but he couldn't bring himself to move. So the crying and begging and moaning went on. Another scream tore through the house. It was filled with helpless pain and utterly shocked.
"You're killing me! Why are you doing this? Stop it, stop! I'll do anything!"
"I know you will."
Things seemed to settle down now because the screaming died down to an exhausted gasping and sobbing. A low voice now croaked: "It's been going on for too long, Heracles. Do you have any idea what it feels like? Having you by my side every fucking day without being able to touch you? You belong to me."
"No, no…No, please… Why are you doing this to me? I'm begging you, stop!"
The interesting thing was that not once Heracles screamed for help. The whole time he was begging and crying he never seemed to hope for rescue. The humiliation probably was too much. He couldn't even blame him for that. It was a very dark night in the mansion of Sadiq Adnan. Just when the Egyptian thought it was finally over a shot was fired, followed by a surprised cry. He jerked upwards and stared at his door, half expecting someone to burst into his room, half waiting for an appropriate reaction from the other party.
"You little-! You could've killed me, you asshole!"
"I won't miss again!"
"So you're serious about that, eh? I actually wanted to play with ya a little longer, but fine!"
More noise, more struggling, more screaming and then the sound of a fluid splashing all over the floor.
"Good riddance, my little kitten!"
The last thing Gupta remembered was the sound of breaking glass and the mad laughter of a Turk.
--

Sadiq yawned and zapped through the channels. He was bored but too lazy to do anything. He actually just waited for his men to freaking fix the computers already. For a few minutes he listened to two politicians who discussed the pros and cons of entering the EU. The whole subject was irrelevant in his eyes. After all, they didn't let Turkey enter, did they?
He blindly groped for the bowl of candy standing next to him and appreciatively fed himself some Turkish honey. He smacked his lips with relish and sank back against his couch again. He looked up when someone knocked at the door. Before he could raise his voice a young brown haired woman with fair skin and green eyes entered and swiftly closed the door behind her. He straightened up a little as he his hand jerked towards the gun that waited patiently next to the remote control.
"At ease." The newcomer told him and casually walked up to him.
"Elizaveta, don't just burst in like that. I could have been-"
"Masturbating?"
"-Busy."
She smiled sweetly and forced her long mane into a messy ponytail. "I'm sorry for the delay." She said, yet didn't give an explanation. Sadiq didn't want to hear it anyway. The fact that she was back meant that things were getting started. He watched the Hungarian assassin sitting down and then started: "Have you heard of it?"
"Be more specific. Do you mean Heracles Karpusi's first open attack at us? Then yes." She answered and pulled her thin eyebrows together. At the short nod of the Turk she sighed. "Let me guess, now you want me to hunt him down for you, am I correct?" Her sarcastic attitude often amused him but not today. He shook his head and muttered: "I want to kill him with my own hands. He deserves that much."
"How very generous of you. So, if you don't want me to get rid of him why did you call me here? I could have spent another day with my husband." She pouted and folded her arms before her chest.
"Does that mean you're still with that four-eyed Austrian? I thought you had better taste." Sadiq grumbled jokingly and took another candy.
"Focus, Adnan." She growled. When it came to Roderich Edelweiß she really didn't know any friends. She was actually pretty protective over him, for some reason. The Turk dropped the topic; after all he needed her to do a job. "He has free access to all our data now, unnecessary to mention that we made a total fool of ourselves. This was obviously just the prelude. We have to discourage him. We can't touch him yet but we must prove that he can't fuck with us like this. So I'd say just kill one of his underlings. I know him, he will feel guilty."
"Just to play some mind-games you want me to kill a human being?" Lizzy snarled indignantly. In response Sadiq gave a dark chuckle and shrugged. "I'd prefer the word 'punishment'. He has to see that his actions have consequences, just like a spoiled brat." He told her with a gleeful smile.
The Hungarian didn't look convinced but before she could think it over her training kicked in. "How much are you willing to pay for some random minion's death?" she purred and ran her fingers through her thick brown hair. At that Sadiq frowned. "Didn't we agree that you kill people for free when I ask you to do it?"
"That's what you said. I never agreed. You know me, Sadiq. I might be expensive but you can be sure that someone is dead afterwards." She said with a wink.
"Okay, okay. What's your price?" he gave in. There was no point in arguing with a hired knife. She seemed to need a moment to think about it. "You're in for three hundred thousand Euros."
Sadiq nearly choked on his candy. "Have you lost it?"
"C'mon, the Euro is practically melting right now. That's pretty cheap, you know?"
Still a little mistrusting he shrugged and straightened up in his seat. It wasn't that much money she was talking about, actually. He finally said: "Alright, you'll get the money. Now for your job. We only know one of his co-workers, a young Italian named Lovino Vargas. He's the one."
The woman smiled a deadly smile that gave her the look of a hunting lioness. "I never got to kill an Italian. He'll never see the sunrise again."
--

The knocking at the door nearly made his head explode. He would have barked to leave him alone but that had meant to cause more noise. So all Heracles Karpusi replied was: "Hnnng…!"
In came a sprightly Spaniard who was grinning from ear to ear. "Good morning, Senor Karpusi!" he chirped and opened the curtains abruptly. Glaring sunlight invaded the room and filled every corner with piercing brightness. Ignoring the protesting moans of the Greek completely Antonio pulled the blanket away. It was a well-known fact that he enjoyed nothing like torturing his boss in the early morning, that was Heracles' opinion, at least. "Senor, did you sleep with your clothes on, again?" The other man sighed.
All he got for an answer was mumbled gibberish. He tapped his boss on the shoulder to make him respond but the Greek just tried to hit him. Due to this Heracles lost his balance and fell off the couch he had been sleeping on. He landed flat on his face and groaned in an appropriate manner. He didn't move, though, figuring that this way the sun couldn't shine on his face and worsen this mother of all headaches he was facing right now. He could feel the tip of a shoe nudging his ribs. "Senor Karpusi, why don't you sleep in your bedroom? That's more comfortable."
"That's my business, Antonio. Leave…"
"Oh no, Senor. I came here to wake you up." Said it and began to shove Heracles into a sitting position; while this one did his best to make it as difficult as possible. He slumped into the Spaniard's arms and quitted moving altogether. This situation wasn't that uncommon in the Greek's household. Heracles was known for being very uncooperative when he was having a hangover. After some struggling and a bit Greek swearing he was on his feet and stared at the wall as if he wanted to melt a hole into it. The whole time Antonio buzzed around him, trying to fix his clothes and make something acceptable out of his hair that looked more like a haystack right now. The days always started like that for the Greek, even though Antonio usually chattered about Romano, tomatoes, Spain or whatever else crossed his mind at the moment. Today he was rather reticent.
"Something bothering you?" Heracles asked half-heartedly. The other man knotted his tie and smoothed his shirt without looking at him. Then he sighed: "I'm a little worried about Romano…" Ah, here it was.
"How come?" Heracles inquired as he opened the door and waited for the Spanish man. They left the room and walked down the dark hallway. Their steps echoed multiple times before fading away.
"He should have arrived an hour ago." Antonio said with a frown. His boss, feeling very social today, patted his shoulder carefully and asked: "Did you call him?"
"Two times already, he's not answering."
"He's probably just oversleeping." He reassured him and turned the corner. The Spaniard was right behind him and still mumbled something under his breath.
The tech lab was deserted, as it always was in the morning. Heracles would have liked to have breakfast first, especially when work, or rather Antonio, forced him to be up at such a ridiculously early time.
The Greek scratched the back of his head lazily and sat on the counter of the Spaniard's desk. This one was already busy typing on the several keyboards for his three computers. It was always astonishing to see Antonio with his technology. When watching his fingers dancing over the keys while he hummed a lively tune and tapped his foot to the beat it was hard to believe that his job was difficult. It probably had something to do with the Latin man's attitude. To him it was a game, either you won or you lost, it depended on how fast you could think and react. Now it was a distraction to him, though. When everything was ready Heracles said: "Show me the last activities of Adnan. I want to know how he's progressing with destroying that virus." He stood up again and sat down in the black armchair that was waiting for him in the dark back of the long room. Two rows of desks were framing the wide aisle that started at his desk and ended at a huge monitor that hung from the ceiling. From his seat he could see the whole room as if it was his very own kingdom he was looking down on. There were days he embraced that thought, lived in that fantasy of him being a king. Kings didn't need to bow down to any law or power, did they? It was that kind of freedom Heracles desired. He had craved it for as long as he could remember. Sometimes he felt as if he was the personification of his beloved motherland. It was freedom he took pride in and it was this pride that justified his actions. The impressed whistle of a Spaniard shook him from his thoughts.
"They're pretty fast." Antonio commented before explaining what was going on. "It appears they have already located and blinded our spyware."
"Which means?" The Greek asked.
"We don't have that much of an advantage anymore." the Spanish man grumbled, obviously annoyed by the failure of his programs. Both knew that this had been just a matter of time, though. Sadiq was a bit ahead of schedule, but it was nothing to worry about. He just wanted to tell his friend exactly that when he stopped and examined Antonio's face that was reflected on the screen of his computer. He was gnawing his lower lip with a frown, distress clearly displayed on his features. Heracles knew that grimace; the Spaniard wore it whenever a certain South Italian wasn't present. That kid really meant a lot to him, didn't he?
The Greek leaned back and remained silent. The relationship between these two men often altered from familial affection to romantic love and back. It was confusing, but it wasn't like Heracles paid much attention to their flirtations and lovers' quarrels. He didn't mind them as a couple, if they even were one, but he really didn't want to see or know anything too explicit. He couldn't help it. The thought of two men together like that scared him beyond compare. He knew that this was ridiculous. He also knew why he felt that way and therefore he did his best to avoid thinking about anything concerning this topic. Just when that thought crossed his mind the picture of a smiling man flashed up before his eyes. It was the same image as always.  The tall dark man was sneering at him from above, hand stretching out towards him as an invitation. This was merged together with another memory, a darker one. The same man, now towering over him, caging him with his body, resembled a big black cat that was just about to lung at its unfortunate prey. Thus those two pictures formed a rather disturbing collage that was burnt into his brain, and like a scar, would never fade away.
"Senor Karpusi?" Again he was torn away from his thoughts, this time he was nothing but grateful. A little confused though, he looked at Antonio. This one just nodded downwards. "Your hands…" he said. Heracles lowered his gaze to see that his fingers where clawing the counter of his desk, knuckles turned white. He forced himself to let go and instead reached down to one of his drawers. His motions became rather mechanically, as if he had done this a thousand times, which was actually true. He grabbed the hipflask inside and began to unscrew it with hectic hands. He opened his mouth, ready to wrap it around the cold chrome of his bottle. His tongue itched forward, anxious to feel the burning sensation of the alcohol.
"Senor…"
He hesitated, eyes still fixed on the hipflask. "What?" he growled hoarsely. His throat felt as though he just had swallowed a gallon of sand.
"I hate to interrupt but-"
"If you hate it don't do it."
The Spanish man suddenly stood up and walked purposefully up to his boss. "You're drinking too much lately."
That comment finally made Heracles look away from the bottle and at Antonio. He was still searching for words when the other continued: "You drink every night, you barely eat anything. I know how hard it is for you to deal with Adnan but this is getting ridiculous."
For a few second no one spoke, then the Greek lowered his hand and put the bottle back on the table. He gave a somewhat outraged chuckle and mockingly asked: "What makes you think that bastard could affect me in any way?"
"Senor Karpusi," the voice of his friend dropped an octave, now soft and calm. "Heracles, how could it be something else? After all you went through because of him... It would only be human."
Green eyes bored into each other. Then the taller southerner straightened up in his seat. "I don't need your talk-show-psychology, Antonio. Go back to work." He muttered but didn't touch his hipflask again. The Spaniard nodded contently and turned away. He didn't really want to be the one to confront Heracles with his problems, anyway. He should keep an eye on the situation, though.
"Geez, there you are!"
The two men froze and simultaneously reached for their guns under their desks. Then both relaxed when they recognized the newcomer. Out of the corner of his eye Heracles could see the relieved smile that stretched all over Antonio's face.
"Romano!" he exclaimed and practically threw himself at the younger man. This one really had no chance to escape. Strong Spanish arms embraced his middle and lifted him off the floor. The Italian obviously wasn't as happy about their reunion. "Holy fuck, Antonio! Let me down! You bastard, don't! Let me- Hey!" Indeed, the overjoyed Spaniard didn't let go. He kept hugging Romano, probably determined to squeeze him to death. Heracles laughed out loud. That scene was just too funny.
"I was so worried, why didn't you answer my calls? You could have been dead!" Antonio half-bellowed his accusations-slash-worries-slash-questions-slash-relief into his partner's ear while trying to break every bone in his body. This went on for another two minutes before Romano finally succeeded in breaking from the Spaniard's hug. He stumbled away and had to grab the doorframe for support. Now the Greek in the back raised his voice, "Why the delay?"
"Huh?" The Italian stared at his boss with incredulous golden eyes. "What the hell? I told you I'd introduce my brother today. It's not my fault he overslept."
While the Greek just kept gazing at him in confusion Antonio's forehead met his palm. "I totally forgot!"
"Don't tell me, Signore Obvious!" Romano spat. He turned to Heracles and put his hands on his hips. "You were the one who wanted to recruit new people, dammit. Now I'm all social and helpful and you don't even acknowledge it."
"And why didn't you answer your mobile phone?" The Spaniard pouted and folded his arms.
"Because I forgot it at home." He shrugged casually. Heracles now copied Antonio's move from before and pressed his face to the palm of his hand. This was his crew…!
A sharp whistle called for his attention again. "Want me to bring him in?" Romano asked with a slight frown on his face. The other two nodded, exchanging a lasting gaze.
The Italian went outside for a second and then returned with another man in tow. That one was a little smaller than him and also had a lighter hair color. His eyes had the same shade of gold, though, and they flitted from one corner to the other in their sockets. Seeing how nervous the young guy was, Heracles plastered a friendly smile on his lips and stood up to greet the new arrival. "Kallimerá. I'm Heracles Karpusi and that's Antonio Carriedo.  I heard you want to join our little gang?" He winked, but it wasn't meant for the Italian. At once the Spaniard turned around and sat down in front of his computers again.
The new one froze. He opened and closed his mouth several times without words coming out, until his big brother gave him a good punch in the ribs with his elbow. "Ouch! I mean: Yes!...Sir!"
Before replying anything he shot Antonio a short glance. He saw the data that raced across the monitor but it went too fast for him to decipher anything of value. So he just trusted the Spaniard to find out everything about this stranger. The two brothers still stood in the entrance, Romano protectively towering up behind…
"What's your name?" The Greek inquired, giving the young man a searching look as if his name was hidden somewhere in those golden eyes. The intense stare seemingly scared the poor kid beyond compare for he did nothing but stare back and stammer single syllables. That pitiful act was interrupted by his big brother who wordlessly gave him a good hit on the head. That somehow broke an inner barricade. An endless swarm of words broke from between his lips, and he began to wildly gesticulate. Antonio and Heracles just looked at the young man in utter perplexity. He was talking too much, he was talking too loud and he was talking too fast for them to understand, plus: He was talking Italian which neither of them could speak. Before the Greek could say something to stop that sheer overwhelming amount of noise caused by the newcomer, that nearly made is temples explode, Romano suddenly chimed in. A Spanish hand patted his shoulder and Antonio said with a grin: "They may be loud, but they are capable." His boss grunted, eyes locked on the yelling duo. "Just make them shut up or I'll eat a bullet."
"Well, we wouldn't want that, would we?" The Spaniard chuckled and innocently stepped right between the fighting brothers. While the three tried to drown out each other's voices Heracles covered his ears with his hands and leaned back in his chair. He was tired, he had a headache and he just didn't want to deal with anything today. But he had to.
"Romano, you brought him here. Is your brother cut out for this?" he sighed without trying to make himself be heard. In contrast to what he had expected the three Mediterranean men grew silent at once, six eyes staring at him.
"Yes, he is. He is a little dumb but he learns fast and can obey commands." He nodded.
"Will you tell me your name now?" the Greek asked quietly, figuring that as long as he kept his calm everyone else did, too.
"I'm Feliciano Vargas." The kid answered.
"Before anything else," Heracles folded his fingers and rested his chin on them. "Do you understand that there is no guarantee for you to survive this?"
Just as expected, he turned white as a piece of chalk. Romano and Antonio's expressions darkened as they waited for Feliciano's answer. The Greek narrowed his olive green eyes and corked an eyebrow.
This time his older Italian remained silent, waiting for his kid brother to make up his mind. Somewhere in those golden eyes there was a hint of worry well hidden behind emotionless expectation.
"I understand."

Description
"Fuck him!"
The next vase shattered against the wall and only missed Gupta's head by inches. The Egyptian didn't even blink. Whenever Sadiq threw a tantrum it was wise to pretend to be invisible. For three entire hours the Turk was rampaging through his mansion now, destroying everything that crossed his path. Gupta silently followed him around, cleaning up the mess his boss was making.
"That goddamned bastard! I'll rip his sorry head off his shoulders, I'll kill him! I'll… I'll murder him, crush him between my palms, peel his skin off, I'll fucking make him pay!" An old amphora crashed to the floor and the ceramic didn't stand a chance. The African allowed himself a tiny smile. It was more than obvious that Sadiq was utterly speechless due to that cheekiness. Just this morning a distressed young Bulgarian had stuttering reported that a spyware had been located on all of their computers and that they hadn't been able to remove it yet. It was only a matter of seconds for the tan man to realize who was responsible for this.
"Did you get rid of it yet?" The Turk bellowed, seemingly at no one but thin air. The Egyptian man waiting patiently in the back shook his head but then remembered that his boss couldn't see him from where he was standing. So he added: "No, sir."
This time Gupta had to duck his head in order dodge the flying furniture. He briefly wondered where the others were. Elizaveta should have returned yesterday night but she hadn't shown up yet. Sadiq obviously had the same thought. "And why are we all alone with that? Don't I have specialists? I remember black-mailing a good dozen of professionals! Where the hell have they taken off to?"
"Sadiq, calm down already." Gupta sighed under his breath. The Turk was pacing up and down with his hands folded behind his back. He kind of resembled a caged in tiger. At his comment Sadiq jerked his head in his direction and even with the mask obscuring his face you could see the blazing in his eyes.
"Are you seriously telling me to calm down? You are, aren't you?" he growled and slowly walked up to him until their faces were only half a centimeter away from each other. "Now you listen, Hassan. The day I need advice from an inferior is the day I'll massacre every fucking person in this house, are we clear?"
Gupta narrowed his eyes for a few seconds and then dutifully replied: "Yes, sir. My humblest apologies."
The two men stared at each other for a few moments; no emotion was displayed on their faces.
"Whatever…" At once the intimidating aura of the tall Turk crumbled. He gave the African a tired pat on the shoulder and turned away. "I'm sorry, Gupta. I didn't mean to snap at you like this. I'm just worn out… Leave. …Please."
"Want me to send in some women, boss?" he half-smiled as he headed for the door. Before he left he could hear Sadiq's half-sincere chuckle and a muttered: "Send Lizzy as soon as she's back."
Gupta couldn't suppress to answer: "She'd bite your head off." With this he shut the door.

The silence that lay around the mansion was so loud it was pressing on his ears. His steps echoed through the empty halls and he never crossed paths with anybody. The whole place was deserted. Sadiq's house was located not far away from Izmir. It was a big villa that sat right at the foot of a hill. Back in his study he sat down and continued his paperwork. He scribbled a few numbers on the bills and filled in some formulas but he didn't get anywhere with his work. In the end he just followed his thoughts without paying attention to anything. Suddenly Gupta caught himself staring at the map in front of him. Out of a mood he took a pen and drew a red circle around Athens where Heracles Karpusi had been spotted the last time. Sadiq had been eager to find his hideout for months. To think that these two men, who hated each other with the force of thousand suns (so to speak), were separated by the mere sea…
If someone had asked the Egyptian about his opinion regarding their relationship and that constantly increasing hatred for each other they would have gotten a rather short answer. In his opinion this was a matter of broken hearts. He had been with Sadiq long enough to recognize a pattern. He had been with him long enough to have met Heracles even though it was just a brief moment of name-exchanging. The image he had gotten of the young Greek was a little different from what Sadiq used to say. Despite the Turk's explicit descriptions he hadn't found a real reason to dislike him. Heracles was a thoughtful, friendly man who loved cats and sleeping, at least that's what Gupta remembered. Maybe he had changed, he most likely had. There was no other way to survive here. While the African rose to his feet and headed for the door he kept pondering over the two men's relationship. When they had lived together here in this mansion they had used to avoid each other, but whenever the Greek hadn't been paying attention a very weird smile would spread across Sadiq's face. It had been the same with Heracles. He had never smiled at the Turk but his expression always became very thoughtful when he secretly had been watching him out of a corner or from the other side of the room. The day Heracles had left was the day Sadiq had changed. The Egyptian sat on the small sofa next to the door in his quarters and closed his eyes. He remembered that night very well, especially because it had been so noisy.
…

"Don't! Don't come near me! You're pissed! You don't know what you're doing!"
"C'mon, Heracles… I thought you Greeks are into that kinda stuff."
A loud thud sounded through the whole house. Gupta looked up from his paperwork with a worried frown. He could hear the voices even though he wished he could turn them out.
"Let's celebrate a bit, my kitten. Your daddy just has made a lot of money. Come over here."
"Stop saying such things! What the-"
"Don't be scared… You'll like it."
"No! Don't touch me! Don't-"
Then there was silence for a few seconds beside heavy breathing and wordless struggling. The Egyptian clenched his teeth and waited. A muffled scream came from the other room, followed by a low groan.
"Just as I thought…" the dark drunken voice triumphed now."You look so much cuter with something in your mouth."
There wasn't an answer, only choked sobbing.
"Now, now, Heracles, my kitten. You're all grown up now, no point in cryin', isser? –Hah, that's better, good boy."That was followed by a variety of many different sounds Gupta never wanted to hear.
"Go to hell!" the other voice suddenly bellowed and a vase shattered. The Egyptian's stomach turned a somersault when he heard someone vomiting. A man coughed violently and then yelped as though someone had pulled at his hair rather crudely.
"A weak stomach is no excuse, you brat! ...Get your little ass back here. I'm not done with ya."
Gupta tried his best to shut the noises out but it was impossible. A small part of him wanted to help the poor kid that was being tortured next door but he couldn't bring himself to move. So the crying and begging and moaning went on. Another scream tore through the house. It was filled with helpless pain and utterly shocked.
"You're killing me! Why are you doing this? Stop it, stop! I'll do anything!"
"I know you will."
Things seemed to settle down now because the screaming died down to an exhausted gasping and sobbing. A low voice now croaked: "It's been going on for too long, Heracles. Do you have any idea what it feels like? Having you by my side every fucking day without being able to touch you? You belong to me."
"No, no…No, please… Why are you doing this to me? I'm begging you, stop!"
The interesting thing was that not once Heracles screamed for help. The whole time he was begging and crying he never seemed to hope for rescue. The humiliation probably was too much. He couldn't even blame him for that. It was a very dark night in the mansion of Sadiq Adnan. Just when the Egyptian thought it was finally over a shot was fired, followed by a surprised cry. He jerked upwards and stared at his door, half expecting someone to burst into his room, half waiting for an appropriate reaction from the other party.
"You little-! You could've killed me, you asshole!"
"I won't miss again!"
"So you're serious about that, eh? I actually wanted to play with ya a little longer, but fine!"
More noise, more struggling, more screaming and then the sound of a fluid splashing all over the floor.
"Good riddance, my little kitten!"
The last thing Gupta remembered was the sound of breaking glass and the mad laughter of a Turk.
--

Sadiq yawned and zapped through the channels. He was bored but too lazy to do anything. He actually just waited for his men to freaking fix the computers already. For a few minutes he listened to two politicians who discussed the pros and cons of entering the EU. The whole subject was irrelevant in his eyes. After all, they didn't let Turkey enter, did they?
He blindly groped for the bowl of candy standing next to him and appreciatively fed himself some Turkish honey. He smacked his lips with relish and sank back against his couch again. He looked up when someone knocked at the door. Before he could raise his voice a young brown haired woman with fair skin and green eyes entered and swiftly closed the door behind her. He straightened up a little as he his hand jerked towards the gun that waited patiently next to the remote control.
"At ease." The newcomer told him and casually walked up to him.
"Elizaveta, don't just burst in like that. I could have been-"
"Masturbating?"
"-Busy."
She smiled sweetly and forced her long mane into a messy ponytail. "I'm sorry for the delay." She said, yet didn't give an explanation. Sadiq didn't want to hear it anyway. The fact that she was back meant that things were getting started. He watched the Hungarian assassin sitting down and then started: "Have you heard of it?"
"Be more specific. Do you mean Heracles Karpusi's first open attack at us? Then yes." She answered and pulled her thin eyebrows together. At the short nod of the Turk she sighed. "Let me guess, now you want me to hunt him down for you, am I correct?" Her sarcastic attitude often amused him but not today. He shook his head and muttered: "I want to kill him with my own hands. He deserves that much."
"How very generous of you. So, if you don't want me to get rid of him why did you call me here? I could have spent another day with my husband." She pouted and folded her arms before her chest.
"Does that mean you're still with that four-eyed Austrian? I thought you had better taste." Sadiq grumbled jokingly and took another candy.
"Focus, Adnan." She growled. When it came to Roderich Edelweiß she really didn't know any friends. She was actually pretty protective over him, for some reason. The Turk dropped the topic; after all he needed her to do a job. "He has free access to all our data now, unnecessary to mention that we made a total fool of ourselves. This was obviously just the prelude. We have to discourage him. We can't touch him yet but we must prove that he can't fuck with us like this. So I'd say just kill one of his underlings. I know him, he will feel guilty."
"Just to play some mind-games you want me to kill a human being?" Lizzy snarled indignantly. In response Sadiq gave a dark chuckle and shrugged. "I'd prefer the word 'punishment'. He has to see that his actions have consequences, just like a spoiled brat." He told her with a gleeful smile.
The Hungarian didn't look convinced but before she could think it over her training kicked in. "How much are you willing to pay for some random minion's death?" she purred and ran her fingers through her thick brown hair. At that Sadiq frowned. "Didn't we agree that you kill people for free when I ask you to do it?"
"That's what you said. I never agreed. You know me, Sadiq. I might be expensive but you can be sure that someone is dead afterwards." She said with a wink.
"Okay, okay. What's your price?" he gave in. There was no point in arguing with a hired knife. She seemed to need a moment to think about it. "You're in for three hundred thousand Euros."
Sadiq nearly choked on his candy. "Have you lost it?"
"C'mon, the Euro is practically melting right now. That's pretty cheap, you know?"
Still a little mistrusting he shrugged and straightened up in his seat. It wasn't that much money she was talking about, actually. He finally said: "Alright, you'll get the money. Now for your job. We only know one of his co-workers, a young Italian named Lovino Vargas. He's the one."
The woman smiled a deadly smile that gave her the look of a hunting lioness. "I never got to kill an Italian. He'll never see the sunrise again."
--

The knocking at the door nearly made his head explode. He would have barked to leave him alone but that had meant to cause more noise. So all Heracles Karpusi replied was: "Hnnng…!"
In came a sprightly Spaniard who was grinning from ear to ear. "Good morning, Senor Karpusi!" he chirped and opened the curtains abruptly. Glaring sunlight invaded the room and filled every corner with piercing brightness. Ignoring the protesting moans of the Greek completely Antonio pulled the blanket away. It was a well-known fact that he enjoyed nothing like torturing his boss in the early morning, that was Heracles' opinion, at least. "Senor, did you sleep with your clothes on, again?" The other man sighed.
All he got for an answer was mumbled gibberish. He tapped his boss on the shoulder to make him respond but the Greek just tried to hit him. Due to this Heracles lost his balance and fell off the couch he had been sleeping on. He landed flat on his face and groaned in an appropriate manner. He didn't move, though, figuring that this way the sun couldn't shine on his face and worsen this mother of all headaches he was facing right now. He could feel the tip of a shoe nudging his ribs. "Senor Karpusi, why don't you sleep in your bedroom? That's more comfortable."
"That's my business, Antonio. Leave…"
"Oh no, Senor. I came here to wake you up." Said it and began to shove Heracles into a sitting position; while this one did his best to make it as difficult as possible. He slumped into the Spaniard's arms and quitted moving altogether. This situation wasn't that uncommon in the Greek's household. Heracles was known for being very uncooperative when he was having a hangover. After some struggling and a bit Greek swearing he was on his feet and stared at the wall as if he wanted to melt a hole into it. The whole time Antonio buzzed around him, trying to fix his clothes and make something acceptable out of his hair that looked more like a haystack right now. The days always started like that for the Greek, even though Antonio usually chattered about Romano, tomatoes, Spain or whatever else crossed his mind at the moment. Today he was rather reticent.
"Something bothering you?" Heracles asked half-heartedly. The other man knotted his tie and smoothed his shirt without looking at him. Then he sighed: "I'm a little worried about Romano…" Ah, here it was.
"How come?" Heracles inquired as he opened the door and waited for the Spanish man. They left the room and walked down the dark hallway. Their steps echoed multiple times before fading away.
"He should have arrived an hour ago." Antonio said with a frown. His boss, feeling very social today, patted his shoulder carefully and asked: "Did you call him?"
"Two times already, he's not answering."
"He's probably just oversleeping." He reassured him and turned the corner. The Spaniard was right behind him and still mumbled something under his breath.
The tech lab was deserted, as it always was in the morning. Heracles would have liked to have breakfast first, especially when work, or rather Antonio, forced him to be up at such a ridiculously early time.
The Greek scratched the back of his head lazily and sat on the counter of the Spaniard's desk. This one was already busy typing on the several keyboards for his three computers. It was always astonishing to see Antonio with his technology. When watching his fingers dancing over the keys while he hummed a lively tune and tapped his foot to the beat it was hard to believe that his job was difficult. It probably had something to do with the Latin man's attitude. To him it was a game, either you won or you lost, it depended on how fast you could think and react. Now it was a distraction to him, though. When everything was ready Heracles said: "Show me the last activities of Adnan. I want to know how he's progressing with destroying that virus." He stood up again and sat down in the black armchair that was waiting for him in the dark back of the long room. Two rows of desks were framing the wide aisle that started at his desk and ended at a huge monitor that hung from the ceiling. From his seat he could see the whole room as if it was his very own kingdom he was looking down on. There were days he embraced that thought, lived in that fantasy of him being a king. Kings didn't need to bow down to any law or power, did they? It was that kind of freedom Heracles desired. He had craved it for as long as he could remember. Sometimes he felt as if he was the personification of his beloved motherland. It was freedom he took pride in and it was this pride that justified his actions. The impressed whistle of a Spaniard shook him from his thoughts.
"They're pretty fast." Antonio commented before explaining what was going on. "It appears they have already located and blinded our spyware."
"Which means?" The Greek asked.
"We don't have that much of an advantage anymore." the Spanish man grumbled, obviously annoyed by the failure of his programs. Both knew that this had been just a matter of time, though. Sadiq was a bit ahead of schedule, but it was nothing to worry about. He just wanted to tell his friend exactly that when he stopped and examined Antonio's face that was reflected on the screen of his computer. He was gnawing his lower lip with a frown, distress clearly displayed on his features. Heracles knew that grimace; the Spaniard wore it whenever a certain South Italian wasn't present. That kid really meant a lot to him, didn't he?
The Greek leaned back and remained silent. The relationship between these two men often altered from familial affection to romantic love and back. It was confusing, but it wasn't like Heracles paid much attention to their flirtations and lovers' quarrels. He didn't mind them as a couple, if they even were one, but he really didn't want to see or know anything too explicit. He couldn't help it. The thought of two men together like that scared him beyond compare. He knew that this was ridiculous. He also knew why he felt that way and therefore he did his best to avoid thinking about anything concerning this topic. Just when that thought crossed his mind the picture of a smiling man flashed up before his eyes. It was the same image as always.  The tall dark man was sneering at him from above, hand stretching out towards him as an invitation. This was merged together with another memory, a darker one. The same man, now towering over him, caging him with his body, resembled a big black cat that was just about to lung at its unfortunate prey. Thus those two pictures formed a rather disturbing collage that was burnt into his brain, and like a scar, would never fade away.
"Senor Karpusi?" Again he was torn away from his thoughts, this time he was nothing but grateful. A little confused though, he looked at Antonio. This one just nodded downwards. "Your hands…" he said. Heracles lowered his gaze to see that his fingers where clawing the counter of his desk, knuckles turned white. He forced himself to let go and instead reached down to one of his drawers. His motions became rather mechanically, as if he had done this a thousand times, which was actually true. He grabbed the hipflask inside and began to unscrew it with hectic hands. He opened his mouth, ready to wrap it around the cold chrome of his bottle. His tongue itched forward, anxious to feel the burning sensation of the alcohol.
"Senor…"
He hesitated, eyes still fixed on the hipflask. "What?" he growled hoarsely. His throat felt as though he just had swallowed a gallon of sand.
"I hate to interrupt but-"
"If you hate it don't do it."
The Spanish man suddenly stood up and walked purposefully up to his boss. "You're drinking too much lately."
That comment finally made Heracles look away from the bottle and at Antonio. He was still searching for words when the other continued: "You drink every night, you barely eat anything. I know how hard it is for you to deal with Adnan but this is getting ridiculous."
For a few second no one spoke, then the Greek lowered his hand and put the bottle back on the table. He gave a somewhat outraged chuckle and mockingly asked: "What makes you think that bastard could affect me in any way?"
"Senor Karpusi," the voice of his friend dropped an octave, now soft and calm. "Heracles, how could it be something else? After all you went through because of him... It would only be human."
Green eyes bored into each other. Then the taller southerner straightened up in his seat. "I don't need your talk-show-psychology, Antonio. Go back to work." He muttered but didn't touch his hipflask again. The Spaniard nodded contently and turned away. He didn't really want to be the one to confront Heracles with his problems, anyway. He should keep an eye on the situation, though.
"Geez, there you are!"
The two men froze and simultaneously reached for their guns under their desks. Then both relaxed when they recognized the newcomer. Out of the corner of his eye Heracles could see the relieved smile that stretched all over Antonio's face.
"Romano!" he exclaimed and practically threw himself at the younger man. This one really had no chance to escape. Strong Spanish arms embraced his middle and lifted him off the floor. The Italian obviously wasn't as happy about their reunion. "Holy fuck, Antonio! Let me down! You bastard, don't! Let me- Hey!" Indeed, the overjoyed Spaniard didn't let go. He kept hugging Romano, probably determined to squeeze him to death. Heracles laughed out loud. That scene was just too funny.
"I was so worried, why didn't you answer my calls? You could have been dead!" Antonio half-bellowed his accusations-slash-worries-slash-questions-slash-relief into his partner's ear while trying to break every bone in his body. This went on for another two minutes before Romano finally succeeded in breaking from the Spaniard's hug. He stumbled away and had to grab the doorframe for support. Now the Greek in the back raised his voice, "Why the delay?"
"Huh?" The Italian stared at his boss with incredulous golden eyes. "What the hell? I told you I'd introduce my brother today. It's not my fault he overslept."
While the Greek just kept gazing at him in confusion Antonio's forehead met his palm. "I totally forgot!"
"Don't tell me, Signore Obvious!" Romano spat. He turned to Heracles and put his hands on his hips. "You were the one who wanted to recruit new people, dammit. Now I'm all social and helpful and you don't even acknowledge it."
"And why didn't you answer your mobile phone?" The Spaniard pouted and folded his arms.
"Because I forgot it at home." He shrugged casually. Heracles now copied Antonio's move from before and pressed his face to the palm of his hand. This was his crew…!
A sharp whistle called for his attention again. "Want me to bring him in?" Romano asked with a slight frown on his face. The other two nodded, exchanging a lasting gaze.
The Italian went outside for a second and then returned with another man in tow. That one was a little smaller than him and also had a lighter hair color. His eyes had the same shade of gold, though, and they flitted from one corner to the other in their sockets. Seeing how nervous the young guy was, Heracles plastered a friendly smile on his lips and stood up to greet the new arrival. "Kallimerá. I'm Heracles Karpusi and that's Antonio Carriedo.  I heard you want to join our little gang?" He winked, but it wasn't meant for the Italian. At once the Spaniard turned around and sat down in front of his computers again.
The new one froze. He opened and closed his mouth several times without words coming out, until his big brother gave him a good punch in the ribs with his elbow. "Ouch! I mean: Yes!...Sir!"
Before replying anything he shot Antonio a short glance. He saw the data that raced across the monitor but it went too fast for him to decipher anything of value. So he just trusted the Spaniard to find out everything about this stranger. The two brothers still stood in the entrance, Romano protectively towering up behind…
"What's your name?" The Greek inquired, giving the young man a searching look as if his name was hidden somewhere in those golden eyes. The intense stare seemingly scared the poor kid beyond compare for he did nothing but stare back and stammer single syllables. That pitiful act was interrupted by his big brother who wordlessly gave him a good hit on the head. That somehow broke an inner barricade. An endless swarm of words broke from between his lips, and he began to wildly gesticulate. Antonio and Heracles just looked at the young man in utter perplexity. He was talking too much, he was talking too loud and he was talking too fast for them to understand, plus: He was talking Italian which neither of them could speak. Before the Greek could say something to stop that sheer overwhelming amount of noise caused by the newcomer, that nearly made is temples explode, Romano suddenly chimed in. A Spanish hand patted his shoulder and Antonio said with a grin: "They may be loud, but they are capable." His boss grunted, eyes locked on the yelling duo. "Just make them shut up or I'll eat a bullet."
"Well, we wouldn't want that, would we?" The Spaniard chuckled and innocently stepped right between the fighting brothers. While the three tried to drown out each other's voices Heracles covered his ears with his hands and leaned back in his chair. He was tired, he had a headache and he just didn't want to deal with anything today. But he had to.
"Romano, you brought him here. Is your brother cut out for this?" he sighed without trying to make himself be heard. In contrast to what he had expected the three Mediterranean men grew silent at once, six eyes staring at him.
"Yes, he is. He is a little dumb but he learns fast and can obey commands." He nodded.
"Will you tell me your name now?" the Greek asked quietly, figuring that as long as he kept his calm everyone else did, too.
"I'm Feliciano Vargas." The kid answered.
"Before anything else," Heracles folded his fingers and rested his chin on them. "Do you understand that there is no guarantee for you to survive this?"
Just as expected, he turned white as a piece of chalk. Romano and Antonio's expressions darkened as they waited for Feliciano's answer. The Greek narrowed his olive green eyes and corked an eyebrow.
This time his older Italian remained silent, waiting for his kid brother to make up his mind. Somewhere in those golden eyes there was a hint of worry well hidden behind emotionless expectation.
"I understand."