Part 1 – From Small Beginnings
Victor Sullivan
It was just business, really. A well-paying job at that.
Victor Sullivan had racked up quite the black-market reputation for himself after his Navy days. Quick to take a job, just as quick to leave for the next highest bidder, but worth every cent.
Contrary to the mythos surrounding his existence, Sully didn't survive this game as long as he had by being reckless. For having low morals and little attachment, he generally knew what people he'd end up working for. Namely, he liked to have contingency plans in case a job went south, or someone offered him a better bargain. He made damned well sure that if there were hard feelings, his ass was well covered. It didn't hurt that he could schmooze his way into most pockets.
He was a self-proclaimed asshole, and he didn't care much who got screwed over in the process.
The world was jaded and full of selfish people; it never hurt to remember that fact.
So how did he end up in the service of one Katherine Marlowe? She had one hell of a bid and it didn't hurt that kind of pay could go towards his retirement fund. At almost forty-one years old, he was getting too old for the field-work life and no amount of behind-the-scenes services would reach what he earns as a professional smuggler and thief. Again, contingencies, and this instance put him in the service of a dangerous woman.
It was just a job, but it didn't hurt they'd shared a bed once or twice...
The details of this heist were a little fuzzy, as Sully preferred. All he needed to know was what he was hired for. Didn't much care for the why's. The details he concerned himself with were as followed: steal some ring that once belong to Sir Francis Drake and an astrolabe the deceased explorer used, and walk off with his pay.
A part of him worried there was more than his employer let on, because the amount he was earning didn't match the stakes.
Sully stood outside Museo Maritimo – a museum in Cartagena, Columbia. Security would be a joke at best, which was what had him worried. Either Katherine had deep pockets and was desperate enough to pay him a pretty penny, or he was missing something. H never asked for the why's. He left heists like this before for a lot less.
Besides, weren't they all the same after a while? Some rich, self-entitled prick wanted a rare artifact, and Sully just so happened to be the perfect man for the job. The only part of this whole operation that he couldn't quite seem to wrap his mind around was how Katherine could have easily bought up the entire collection once in Sir Francis Drake's possession, yet here she was, travelling all the way from London and whatever life of luxury Sully could care less to think about, slumming it with the likes of him.
Perhaps it wasn't just about the prize; it was about the thrill of adventure, a way out of their stuffy, rather bleak lives. Half the time, his employers involved themselves in his work, just to get a taste of the adrenaline that came with what he did for a living. Katherine was no different, and, in fact, it all seemed to be a game to her.
Sully didn't attract much attention from the sparse amount of security guards drifting lazily inside the museum's walls, blending in with every other American tourist. The top floor presented the same challenges, and the task of easing passed dozing museum guards was easy enough.
A room branched off from the hallway that contained more of Sir Francis Drake's artifacts from his various journeys.
The catch? There was a security guard at the door and some street rat was hunched at another display. The urchin stood hunched before the exhibit, with his nose buried in the journal he was currently scribbling furiously in. Sully didn't have any reason to pay much mind to him, not until the runt seemed to take notice of him. He averted his gaze and wandered to another corner of the exhibit hall, and yet all of his body language remained directed towards whatever lay inside the display.
He kept an eye on the kid as he made a sweep of the room, and when Sully came to a stop at the very exhibit the teenager had been hovering by, he raised his eyebrow at the astrolabe sitting innocently on its stand. With a flick of his gaze, he spotted the kid watching him with shrewd eyes, despite his best effort to appear as uninterested as possible.
Was this what Katherine was worried about? That some other competitor was interested in Drake's artifacts and had sent in their own scout? It wasn't commonplace to see children dragged into the underbelly of this corner of the world, and he briefly wondered how he got mixed up in all this.
Whoever he was, the teenager stuck out like a sore thumb to the trained eye, hunched over and so obviously disinterested in the display he hovered by, and Sully smothered his smirk.
Watch how a professional does it, kid.
Casually, he backed himself up to the display glass and inserted the key mold in the lock, all the while observing other artifacts with some interest. Any on looker would think he was just some lazy slum disrespecting the memory of some ancient historical figure. That was how he went unnoticed, most times.
Finished, he flicked the key into the palm of his hand and stopped by one of the guards idling nearby. "You let just anyone in here these days, huh?" He jutted his chin back at the kid still doing everything in his possible power to go unnoticed. To his credit, he wasn't half bad.
Sully strode from the building, paying the scuffling behind him no mind. The boy certainly had a thing or two to learn when it came to espionage...
Sully expected to carry out his job with little else to spark interest. How wrong he was.
He hadn't even rounded the block when a crate of produce was knocked down on the other side of a car parked on the street. It was the first clue he knew he was being followed, just not who it was until he turned around a corner of a butchers' market. The street rat was trailing behind him he realized, bemused.
Sully carried on as he would have, even with his new shadow. Whatever the kid thought he would accomplish was beyond him, but his tenacity was staggering. Sully wound his way through the city rather unhurriedly, intentionally finding backstreets that seemed to lead him to no particular destination. Not once was he able to shake loose the youngster tailing after him.
When he arrived at the locksmith's workshop on the third floor and waited for the replacement key to be forged, Sully was convinced he saw a mop of brown hair outside the window. He almost let out a deep-laugh. Whoever that kid was, they must have dragged him right out of the circus. He was rough around the edges, but there was talent there that Sully had to, at the very least, acknowledge.
With the key and his wallet tucked in his back pocket – not all the way in – he made his way back out to the streets, taking cover under overhangs when he practically could trace the kid clattering above him on balconies and rooftops. He meandered through the streets, straining his eyes and ears for any sign of the kid, wondering if the urchin would take the bait in the form of his wallet.
Somehow, disappointment flooded through him as he eased through crowds of the marketplace, certain he'd lost his stalker when he spotted cops circulating through the crowds. He hadn't been prepared for his game with his little shadow to end so soon. Maybe it was because he could relate more to the youngster tailing after him than the pompous clients he tended to find himself in the company of. Regardless, Sully kept his head ducked. Better not test his own luck.
He spotted Katherine, and as he made his way to her through the crowded plaza, she searched his face with such intensity he had yet bared witness to. "Do you have it?" She asked eagerly.
He slipped on an easy smile, though before he could utter even a single syllable, she was suddenly on him. He lost himself in the sensation of her body pressed against his and her sharp nails combing through his hair. His head became fuzzy by the time she pulled away, and she smoothly looped her arm with his and together they wound through the lean-to stalls littered around them.
Jesus, she really wants that ring, huh?
Except, he knew someone else who might be more desperate to get their hands on Drake's artifact. His mind wandered to the runt, somewhere out there, circling around them like a starved vulture. For the briefest of moments, he considered telling her of the boy. Only, he wasn't so sure what to make of his involvement, and perhaps he wanted their game to keep going just a little longer.
Ever the gentlemen that he wasn't, he took her to a street bar, where they could go over the next step in their plan. Well, calling the next step plans was a little forgiving, wasn't it?
"It seems we have some time to kill..." Katherine mused with a smirk.
"I got an idea... We can while away a few hours," Sully replied as they settled in next to each other, with her sidling up closer to him.
Katherine trailed her manicured nails up his arm, sending shivers down his spine, and just as his muscles began to relax, with a cool drink in one hand and a cigar in the other, he felt something brush up behind him. Nearly imperceptible, but not impossible to notice. Just for a moment, he spotted a swaggering little figure disappear around the street corner, and his mind sputtered to a stop when he found his back-pocket void of his wallet. It wasn't as though he hadn't practically asked for it...
He pressed a kiss to the back of Katherine's hand with a murmured, "be right back," before he headed off to track down the kid.
It wasn't difficult in any sense of the word as Sully ducked down narrowalleyways in pursuit of the thief, and when Sully caught up to him, he lookedfar too damned smug with himself. When the kid shot a look back over hisshoulder, Sully stepped in front of him.
He thought he might have heard theurchin exclaim, "crap!" but when he grabbed the boy's arm forcefully, hestarted yelling out, "¡suéltame, viejo!"
"Let's try that again?" Sully snapped, exasperated. He wasn't old...
"Let go of me!" Definitely American, but that didn't matter.
It was like clamping down on a wild animal with the way he tried to break free of Sully's iron grip, and it was then Sully realized he was much leaner than he originally perceived. If he wanted to, he could break the kid's arm – not that he had intentions of hurting a child. That was a line he would never cross. The teenager before him didn't look so sure. He glared up at Sully, but there was an undercurrent of fear – he wasn't unfamiliar with violence.
"Ah! That's what I thought. Now don't try to run." With one last warning frown directed at him, he freed the teenager, ignoring the way the boy stumbled back from him, clutching at his now free arm. His first question should have been a demand for his wallet. Instead, "You're a long way from home, son."
All he got in response was a scoff and, "Don't call me that." He started to rub his wrist where Sully had clutched him only moments before.
Sully pressed further. "Parents must be worried about you."
Street urchin or not, that didn't mean parents were entirely out of the picture, but his doubts were confirmed when the kid said, "Yea, not likely."
"Okay, sore subject." Sully let his gaze rove over the kid's ragged appearance, his tattered jeans and shirt. All he had on his person was a leather bag strapped around his chest and over one shoulder. As for the rest of him, he was a guarded little bugger, shifting his weight and shooting glances back over his shoulder for a quick escape.
Sully softened just a little, if only to get the teenager before him to ease up on him. "That was a nice lift back there. You're pretty good."
"I don't know what you're talking about, old man," The kid said with what had to be the absolutely worst bluff Sully had ever heard.
He just wanted his damned wallet back, and the punk could do with having his ego knocked down a peg or two. "Hey, don't call me that," Sully warned. "Your technique is really sloppy. You're telegraphin' all your moves." As predicted, an injured look flickered across his features, but the expression didn't linger for long.
The kid started to circle him, and Sully did the same, as though they were sizing one another up, anticipating the other's next move. "You're crazy," The urchin said.
"Yea?" Sully challenged. "You've been tailin' me all over town. Probably figured me for an easy mark, but you picked the wrong guy, pal." Sully felt a swell of respect when the kid only smirked at his outright threat. Even more audacious, the urchin started to back away. "Ah, ah." He held his hand out and the thief gaped at him.
"What?" He asked, all wide-eyed innocence.
"My wallet," Sully deadpanned, watching as fists that were too large for the scrawny runt in front of him were planted on his own hips. "Fine," He said. "Maybe we'll just call the police."
It was absolutely stunning how his shadow called out his bluff. "Go ahead. 'Course... they might wonder why a middle-aged tourist is following young boys down alleyways." As he said this, his wiry arms crossed over his chest while taking a few confident steps towards him.
Sully chuckled. You cocky shit. Who are you? "You are a crafty little beggar, aren't you?"
"I know how to take care of myself." Sully didn't doubt him for a second. Kid had to know a thing or two to scrounge up some sort of life on the streets. "Anyway, I'm pretty sure you don't like the cops any more than I do."
Goddamn. "Good point," Sully relented. And then the ragamuffin turned to go. "Kid." He held out his hand again. "The wallet." When it was tossed to him, the thief outright grinned.
"Had to try," The teen said with a casual shrug.
"'Course you did," Sully murmured as he watched the kid jog off. He found himself smiling, despite the grandly annoying detour. A real smartass, that one.
No sense lingering, though. He had a job to finish. He found Katherine waiting for him, her nose upturned. "Did you take care of him?"
There was no point in asking how Katherine knew about the street urchin – she had eyes watching from all around, he was certain of that much. They always did, if they were smart enough.
Sully produced his wallet from his front pocket. "All said and done." He grinned and took his place at her side, yet again returning to their planning process. When she asked to see the key, the damned thing was gone. While his employer had a few choice words to say, Sully remained silent.
Good move, kid.
~ ~ ~
The museum was quiet when Sully, Katherine, and her own private security entourage rolled up to the building that very same night. It was only then it struck Sully how... unnecessary he felt, in that moment. They were able to stroll right through the front doors of the Museo Maritimo. All of the work he put in to stake out the place, and it turned out Katherine could have just waltzed in for the ring without even a second thought. A nagging dread raised the hairs on the back of his neck.
Who are these people?
It had been all fun and games, plotting and wining and dining the British aristocrat, until it finally struck him that all along he was just a ploy, used in some grander scheme out of... what, sheer boredom? She certainly didn't seem to be hurting for cash if she could pull all this off without him ever knowing about it.
Yet, he couldn't seem to force himself to back out, not after telling her of the incident with the little rogue.
Katherine had been overly delighted with his tale of the street boy that managed to scamper off with their key, and Sully found himself a little unsettled with her fascination with the adolescent thief. Dread pooled into his stomach when she settled on the idea of seeing what the teenager had planned, to essentially lay a trap for the young thief. It was all just a game to Katherine, he realized far too late, and he worried what she had in store for the cocky little shit.
He wasn't a religious man, but he found himself praying to whatever higher power there was that the boy wouldn't go to the museum, that Katherine would hand over his pay, and they could move on with their lives.
Except, when they strolled into the exhibit on the second floor, they caught the thief standing red-handed with the astrolabe in his grip at the very exhibit they intended to steal from themselves.
"Goddammit, kid," He sighed. It didn't matter if the teenager was working for another interested party – though he was starting to have his doubts in that regard – he was far more worried with what she had in mind for the urchin.
"Why, Victor, look who it is," Katherine drawled with an oddly amused, yet cold smirk. "The filthy little stray that made off with your wallet."
A part of Sully wanted to snap at the kid for trying to run away just then, even though Katherine's security had him surrounded. The kid drifted back to them as blank-faced men filtered in through the side entrance, clearly knowing when he was beat, and that prompted the old – not that old – smuggler and thief to say, "Come on, son. You haven't got a chance. Just hand it over."
You don't want to play games with this one.
Katherine snatched the astrolabe from the teen's hand and passed it off to Sully, who promptly handed it over to one of the henchmen. "Now," she said, "the ring."
The kid's face was hard as stone and all Sully could do was watch helplessly as she dug her claws into his wrist and hauled his arm up. He couldn't describe all the emotions in the boy's face as his fingers uncurled to reveal absolutely nothing, except that he looked all too pleased with himself.
"What ring?" He taunted, a shit-eating grin curling the corners of his lips.
Katherine let loose an eerie chuckle while leering down at him. Next thing Sully knew, the woman's hand smacked across the youngster's cheek and the harsh contact on skin resounded against the walls.
"Katherine!" Sully exclaimed, lurching forward as the teenager staggered, and his hand went up to his cheek. Sully could just make out tears forming at the corner of his eyes; from the sting of the impact or the action itself, Sully wasn't so sure.
"Who do you think you are, boy?" She sneered. "You're nothing but a filthy cast-off little beggar, unfit to touch these objects."
The kid did the unthinkable. After recovering from the hit, he drew himself up, rolling his shoulders back, and squared off against Katherine Marlowe with a glower twisting his youthful face. Her lips curled and she raised her hand to strike him again.
Sully wouldn't stand by and watch her torture an innocent child. It was one of the few lines he would not cross. He grabbed her arm before she could backhand him again. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" He demanded. "He's just a kid!"
And then the kid in question bolted and Katherine screeched, "Stop him!"
The personal guards lunged for him, but the little smartass dove under a display and came up the other side with a surprising amount of swiftness and control, and he escaped out the back and up a flight of stairs.
While blank-faced men followed in pursuit of the thief, Sully took one, long look at Marlowe. She met his gaze, and an easy smile spread across her lips, but the look in her eyes was cold, calculated, and merciless. A surge of unexpected disappointment flooded through him. She was going to kill that kid, all because he had the courage to not cower under her power.
"I want my ring, Victor," She uttered, drawing closer to him, and he didn't allow himself to show any sign of a reaction as she dragged her fingers down along his arm. "Bring it to me. And that boy. You will be paid... handsomely for your services."
Sully felt a chill run down along his spine. It wasn't caused by her close proximity, but the harm that would surely come the kid's way, all because of Katherine Marlowe. There was only one thought on his mind, and for once it was not the promise of pockets full of cash.
He merely gave a grunt before his departure, and once he reached the rooftops, he ran after the kid. Sully didn't spot him right away, so resorted to following the shouts of Marlowe's personal small army quite literally tracked down a kid. Teenager. Whatever.
He spotted the adolescent on dangling off the side of overhang on a two-story structure and a knot twisted in his stomach when he caught sight of one of Marlowe's henchmen preparing to drop down on top of the kid. It didn't even cross his mind to think twice about his actions. Sully surged forward and his arms snapped around the man's neck and dragged him back from the edge. "Beat it, kid!"
He worried for a moment the thief would drop to his death, but he managed to clamber up, pausing for a fraction of a second to gape at Sully with wild, feral eyes, then bolted. He spared a moment to marvel at the teen's climbing abilities as he scaled up a wall to the roofline above, but soon Sully's attention drew to Marlowe's men that were now hell-bent on shooting the kid.
He fought tooth and nail to neutralize the threats and keep up with this wild goose chase, and his heart pumped for the adrenaline of it all. This was what he was meant to do. Sully was never one for behind-the-scenes, and chasing after the runaway, it awakened something inside of him, a shriveled-up part that forgot why he chose the smuggling business in the first place. He lived for balancing on a knife's edge, narrowly escaping by the skin of his teeth, the underdog that got the upper-hand in the end.
In his pursuit, he caught glimpses of the kid leaping across empty spaces, breaking his fall by rolling, and scrambling back up to his feet in panicked flight. Sully found himself astounded by his doggedness and competence, scaling walls and grabbing onto ledges with far more control than the men in black suits in pursuit behind him.
But Sully knew the boy couldn't go on much longer, made obvious as the chase dragged on and the kid started to stumble, taking longer to get back up, and he was beginning to act without thought. Where before he looked as though he was leading them on a chase, the kid was now all erratic reactions, and he was losing ground. He couldn't keep going much longer and Marlowe's men would soon have him cornered, and, goddammit, Sully was about to risk it all for one little runt, wasn't he?
Sully came up over a roof line and his stomach twisted as he saw a man grab the runaway, only to be shoved right off the edge by the kid's wild flailing. Judging by his suddenly stiff form, that was the first time he had ever taken someone's life. He wasn't safe yet. While one man fell to his doom, another took his place, and Sully watched as the kid fell back, finally cornered, and grabbed the abandoned handgun. Then, with trembling fingers, pointed it at the approaching black-suited man.
Sully swore vehemently. He was too far away, and he had only moments. "Just hang in there, kid," He muttered.
As he finally neared them, he saw the man had a gun pointed at the kid, and was close enough to hear the words, "Just close your eyes. This won't hurt a bit."
No, it won't, sunshine.
Finally, Sully reached them, and he made damn well sure his trigger went off first. The man in the black suit crumpled at his feet, leaving Sully alone with the kid on the rooftop. The teenager jerked, eyes snapping open, and he was visibly shaking, pointing the gun at him now. Fair enough. But he wouldn't shoot. Didn't have the instinct for it.
Sully crossed the rooftop, holstering his own weapon. There was nothing to do but have faith he wouldn't get blindly shot at as he stooped down and pulled the teenager to his feet, who was still holding the gun as though more goons would show up.
"C'mon," Sully urged, carefully removing the lethal weapon out of his unsteady fingers. The moment the firearm slipped out from his sweaty palms, his shoulders drooped, as though an invisible weight had been lifted from his consciousness, and Sully patted him gently. "You're okay, kid."
Sully knew he was shell-shocked and well beyond exhausted, and that was more than likely the only reason he was able to usher the youngster through the streets. His gaze was glazed over, and more than once Sully laid a steady hand on his shoulder to guide him through crowds when he started to stumble over his own feet. The kid flinched every time he touched him, so Sully ensured the contact only lasted seconds at a time. They worked their way through the streets, avoiding main avenues that might put them right back on Marlowe's radar, and they found their way into a backwater dine-in. Marlowe would never step foot in here.
He returned to the table with a plate of well-deserved vegetables and steak – on the house – and was not entirely surprised the runt was still standing, tense and wary of his surroundings. His eyes kept shooting to the exit, and he had a hand clasped tightly around Sir Francis Drake's ring hanging off a string around his neck. Where he'd hidden it back at the museum, Sully didn't have the faintest idea...
That didn't matter right now. If he ran, Sully wasn't so sure he could find him again.
"You can relax, kid. We're safe here." Sully let out a tired sigh as he sat at the table, placing the plate in front of him. He was met with an apprehensive look. "Go on." The kid didn't budge, so he shrugged and dragged the plate back to himself. "Suit yourself. If you don't want it..."
Sully never even finished that thought, because right then the bedraggled teenager thieved the plate from right out under his nose and started scarfing it down, the other arm curled protectively around the dish, almost as though it was his first meal in months. It probably was. He looked as though he survived mostly on scraps.
While he ate, Sully lit up a cigar and drew in a large puff of smoke, letting his gaze wander to the numerous paintings hanging on the wall.
"What do you want from me?" The kid suddenly asked, rather harshly, around a mouthful of food.
Easy answer? The kid had talent and he'd be damned if he let that go to squander. The difficult response was that he felt an unnatural protectiveness rising up inside of him for the little thief.
No. Keep it strictly business.
"Ha. A little gratitude would be nice," Sully deflected. Meaningful conversations were ones he strayed away from. "I did just save your ass back there."
That was one cold look the boy could hash out. "Thanks," He said bitterly. "But what's in it for you? I mean, you're a crook, right?" Sully snorted and snatched the beer bottle away from the kid's reaching fingers, and he was met with a petulant pout. Put simply, yes. "You've gotta have an angle."
Sully took another drag from his cigar, laughing deep in his chest. "You're one piece of work, kid. What's your story, anyway?"
The kid's eyes narrowed. "Look, mister. No offense, but I don't even know you."
Well. "Easily remedied." He stretched his hand across the table. "Victor Sullivan." Kid took another bite. "This'd be the part where you introduce yourself." The cold stare didn't leave his own and Sully leaned back. "Okay." He gestured at the band of silver strung loosely around the kid's neck. "Suppose you tell me what's so special about that ring."
The kid started to play with it, smirking at Sully all the while. He sure had some gall. "It belongs in my family. I'm just taking it back."
Sully raised an eyebrow. "Passed down from Sir Francis Drake himself?" He asked disbelievingly.
"That's right."
"I don't know how to break this to you, kid," Sully continued, "but Drake didn't have any heirs. No children."
"Well... not with his wife back in England, anyway."
Sully chuckled at that. "Okay, good point. Let me see it." He reached out and the boy jerked back from him, snatching the ring out of range, and his fingers curled protectively around it. Sully frowned. "Come on, kid. If I was gonna take it, I would've done it by now."
The thief gazed at him searchingly, and Sully found himself holding his breath. He couldn't articulate why it mattered if some street urchin trusted him, only knowing that he didn't want him to disappear into the night to never be seen again. This was the first step towards something more than a passing acquaintance.
With visible reluctance, the kid lifted the string over his head and passed it over. "Thank you," He said, giving Drake's supposed descendant a nod. He inspected the inscription, holding the ring up close to his face, peering at the ancient language transcribed on the smooth surface. "So... what's this...? Parvis Ma-"
"Sic Parvis Magna. It means greatness from small beginnings." He stood up and walked around closer to Sully. "That was his motto."
"Yea?" Could he read Latin?
The kid stood at his side and touched the ring between Sully's fingers, but his eyes were on the boy, not the band of silver that had the teen so enraptured. "Y'see, Queen Elizabeth gave it to him in fifteen eighty-one, when he got back to England after circumnavigating the globe. That's when she made him a Knight."
The kid had this hungry look, one of adventure, and Sully found himself mesmerized by his intensity. At least he didn't look like he was going to bolt out the door, so Sully let him take the ring back when his fingers wrapped around it. "Well, you sure as hell didn't learn that on the streets," He uttered eventually, amazed. "How's a kid your age know Latin?"
The kid smirked, but it was almost hostile, something that didn't seem to fit quite right with his very essence. "The Nuns sort of insisted on it."
"Ah..." Sully drawled. "So... like a boarding school?"
"That's a nice word for it," The kid grumbled.
"Okay, then." That was a clear enough indication that he couldn't pry more into that sore subject. Personal stories were an unwelcome territory, but the kid seemed plenty happy to drone on about Drake, so he tried for a different approach that might pry the teen out of his icy exterior, "What was that business with the ring and the astrolabe thing back there?"
"Why don't you tell me," The kid shot back. "You're the one working for 'em."
Sully let out a sigh. "Look, kid, a client wants something, I obtain it. For a price. I don't ask any questions. It's just a job." A job that would have jumpstarted his retirement career, but something told him his adventures were just beginning.
The kid grinned. "Looked pretty friendly to me."
Sully scratched the back of his head. "Eh, uh... well..." He shifted his gaze away. "Anyway, I'm pretty sure I'm fired."
The kid stared back at him, as if sizing up the competition, and while Sully wasn't entirely sure what side of the mental calculation he fell on that the kid made, he watched the boy nod to himself and become even more animated in his gestures.
"Okay, look. First of all, that was no astrolabe." The older thief stayed silent as he pulled out a raggedy notebook from his bag and promptly came around the table for Sully to see. He found himself stunned by the rather accurate sketches of the astrolabe and other objects Sully couldn't identify. There were some scattered notes, sparse compared to the drawings laid out before him. "It's some sort of decoding device. Check this out." He flipped through the pages to reveal a map drawn back before satellites revealed the shape of continents.
Shit. Did he draw all this himself?
"On his way around the world, Drake sailed through the East Indies. Only, he says that it took him six months to get from here to here." He pointed out two locations vaguely identifiable, only identifiable by the city names scribbled down by the journal's owner. When Sully looked back up, the kid was staring at him, waiting for something, obviously, but he didn't have the faintest clue what he was getting at.
"Yea, so?" Sully challenged.
"So, it doesn't add up. He was way too good a sailor for that. It would've taken him a month, tops." The kid traced his finger along Drake's path on the page of his journal, and his eyes were lit up now. It was then Sully realized he was the real deal; he was no washed-up urchin. "He was hiding something, something big."
Sully found himself intrigued. "How big?"
"Like secrete mission from the Queen big. Like millions in plundered treasure that hasn't been recovered big."
Holy shit. "That big?"
"That big," The kid repeated as an affirmation. He then slapped Sully's shoulder with the notebook, an excited grin plastered on his face, and he proceeded to reclaim his chair across from Sully, almost like a lawyer making his definitive case at trial.
"And that... decoder has something to do with it?" Sully asked. Damnit. He should have kept that piece of junk.
"I would bet my life on it."
Sully believed him. "Oh, swell. And Marlowe's got it."
"It won't do her much good without the key." The kid held the ring up from his neck.
"So, it's a stalemate, then," Sully observed.
"For now."
Sully couldn't stop his scoff. They were in it for the long haul, if the kid stuck by him. "So. You still haven't told me what your name is."
The kid leveled him with an unimpressed frown. "And you still haven't told me what you want from me."
"Okay," Sully caved. "You've got talent, but you got a lot to learn. You stick with me and I'll teach you a few things."
"Thanks. But I'm doing just fine on my own."
Sully frowned. "Yea, clearly." Only for the fact that he would have been dead in a ditch if Marlowe got her claws on him. "What do you say we, uh, try this again?" He held his hand out to him once more. "My friends call me Sully."
The kid half-laughed and looked at the offered gesture. He probably didn't have a lot of those. Friends. "Nathan Drake." Finally, Nathan took his hand with a surprisingly firm grip. "Nate."
"Drake, huh?" Maybe he really was Sir Francis Drake's illegitimate heir.
But deeper than that, there was a lure, one of adventure and fortune, and Sully was hooked. He leaned back with his cigar, smiling. "I see great things in our future, kid." He dipped his head. "Great things."
* * * * *
So, here I am again, many months later, uploading this behemoth of a fanfic.
Few of you will probably remember me or this fanfic, but back in 2020, I had decided to take on the challenge of novelizing the Uncharted game series while I was bored out of my mind in quarantine. Since my initial upload, this fanfic has undergone many, many edits.
When my life more or less went back to normal, I found it difficult to keep writing. At this point in time, I'm currently paused in Chapter 31, and I hit a major writing block. Largely it's because, as I said, I have less free time than I did when I was in quarantine, and also, I was really disheartened by the lack of readers directly interacting with this fanfic. It had a lot of reading hits, but rarely anyone ever commented or left votes, so I was super unsure of what people thought of my story.
With the release of the Uncharted movie, I thought it maybe now is a good time to try again with this improved version.
While this fanfic does follow the events of the game series, new Uncharted fans from the movie will also be able to enjoy this story.
The plan right now is to upload weekly, with the first two chapters releasing today. When I reach chapters that I have major edits planned for, such as Chapter 13, there may or may not be a hiatus, depending on what the status of the edits are.
If you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a vote! It will be greatly appreciated!
~ Sic Parvis Magna