The Numbers Game #38

Pain. That was the first thing Nathan registered. A dull, throbbing ache lodged deep in his skull, pulsing behind his eyes like a hammer beating against the inside of his skull. His body felt heavy, restrained—his arms and legs were bound tightly to a chair, the ropes digging into his skin.

He opened his eyes slowly, and for a brief moment, all he saw was absolute darkness.

His mind, still sluggish from whatever they had dosed him with, worked through the fog, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The air was stale, the silence thick, like a void.

Then—light.

Blinding, all-encompassing white flooded the room, stark and sterile to the point of discomfort. Nathan winced, blinking rapidly as his pupils struggled to adjust. His surroundings snapped into focus—a small, four-by-four cell with plain white walls. No windows. No vents. Nothing. Just him, the chair he was tied to, and an emptiness that practically screamed interrogation room.

His mind shifted gears. Where the hell am I? How long have I been out?

Before he could dig deeper into his situation, a portion of the wall in front of him seamlessly slid open, revealing a single figure stepping inside.

Wolfgang Von Strucker.

Nathan recognized him immediately. White skin, bald head, clean-shaven face, and that distinct monocle-like device over his left eye. The man carried himself with the same arrogance that had been present in every intelligence report Nathan had read on him—a calm, deliberate menace.

Nathan kept his expression neutral. He wasn't about to give this bastard the satisfaction of knowing how much he already knew.

Instead, he leaned back slightly—or at least as much as his restraints allowed—and exhaled through his nose.

"Pretty neat setup you've got here," Nathan muttered, his voice laced with dry amusement. "What is this, some kind of sex dungeon?"

Strucker, hands clasped neatly behind his back, didn't react beyond a mild tilt of his head. His lips curled slightly—not a smirk, not irritation, just… observation.

"Humor." His voice was smooth, detached. "A defense mechanism, used by the helpless in an attempt to appear bigger than they are."

His one good eye settled on Nathan with clinical scrutiny. "I've never found much use for it myself."

Nathan let out a short chuckle, shaking his head.

"No surprise there. You look like the type to paint your bedroom walls with kitten blood."

Still, no reaction.

Strucker stepped forward, though carefully—not close enough for Nathan to lash out, despite being bound. Smart. The HYDRA officer had read his file.

"Captain America," Strucker began, measured and methodical, "raided one of our facilities recently." His gaze sharpened. "Right after meeting you."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle between them before adding, "We need to know what you told him—to ascertain whether you had any connection to the attack."

Nathan exhaled through his nose, slow and deliberate, his expression unreadable. "Right. Because obviously, Captain America—the boy scout of boy scouts—needed my help to decide that some sex dungeon like this needed raiding... who are you people anyway?"

Strucker's single eye narrowed, the mechanical lens over the other adjusting with a soft whir as he studied Nathan. His voice remained smooth, almost patient, but there was an edge beneath it—a quiet certainty.

"There's no use in denial," he said, each word deliberate. "We know you met with Rogers at a police station. Shortly after, he stormed out and began preparations for the raid on our facility."

He crossed his arms, his gaze unwavering.

"This doesn't have to be an unpleasant experience. Not for you, not for me. Tell us what you know, and we'll let you be on your way."

Nathan stared at him for a long moment, his face blank. Then—he smiled.

"Why don't you come closer, then?" His voice dropped into a conspiratorial whisper. "I'll whisper it in your ear."

Strucker's expression darkened, the muscles in his jaw tightening ever so slightly.

"It seems you don't feel like cooperating…" he murmured, shaking his head. "So be it."

He turned toward the door, moving with calm, practiced ease, not sparing Nathan another glance. But just before stepping out, he added, "We have just the man to help you with that."

Then, he was gone.

Nathan barely had half a minute to himself, just enough time to roll his shoulders against his restraints, testing them. Then—The door hissed open again.

A large, imposing figure stepped inside, clad in heavy tactical gear, every movement controlled, deliberate. Nathan's eyes traced the unmistakable insignia across the man's chest—two crossed white bones over a black vest.

And then, the skull-shaped mask.

Crossbones.

The man stopped just inside the room, tilting his head slightly as he regarded Nathan. When he spoke, there was a twisted sort of glee in his voice. "It's been a while, Cross."

Nathan arched an eyebrow.

"Not long enough to forget saying I'd put you in the dirt if we ever met again, Rumlow."

The masked man let out a low, amused chuckle, the sound deep and gravelly. "Yeah?" He stepped forward, rolling his broad shoulders. "Well… here we are, so why don't you try it?"

Nathan let out a short, amused laugh, shaking his head as he glanced down at the restraints binding his wrists and ankles.

"As you can see," he said, casually rolling his shoulders, "my limbs are otherwise indisposed at the moment…"

He looked back up at Crossbones, his smile sharp and mocking.

"So unless you'd kindly untie me—or present your neck to my teeth—I don't see how I'd make good on my word."

Crossbones chuckled, the sound low and predatory, his head tilting slightly as if considering the offer.

"I'd untie you, Cross. Believe me, I would." His voice was laced with mock sincerity before shifting into something darker. "If only to break you with my bare hands."

He let out a theatrical sigh, gesturing at the sealed metal door behind him. "But see… I'd be joining you in the afterlife soon after."

Nathan's expression didn't waver, but Crossbones could tell he was listening.

"Even if you somehow overpowered me," he continued, stepping in closer, his heavy boots thudding against the cold floor, "you'd find yourself outnumbered, outgunned… and very, very dead."

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to make the next words hit deeper. "Isn't that why you haven't dislocated your wrist and tried to escape already? Because you don't know what's out there?"

For a brief moment, silence stretched between them.

Then Nathan let out a genuine laugh, shaking his head. "I didn't think you knew me so well, Rumlow."

Crossbones could hear the amusement in his voice, but he also saw something else—something colder settling into Nathan's features as the smirk slowly faded.

"But since you do," Nathan continued, his voice dropping to something almost lethal, "you should also know that you're not getting shit out of me."

Crossbones flexed his fingers, the quiet pop of his knuckles cracking filling the space. "Maybe you'll talk," he said, taking another step forward, towering over Nathan.

His gloved hands clenched into fists, his shoulders rolling with anticipation. "Maybe you won't…" The mask couldn't hide the grin in his voice.

"Either way, I'm gonna enjoy this."

...

Nathan spat out a mouthful of blood, along with a loose tooth, the metallic taste thick on his tongue. It hit the cold floor with a soft clink. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he lifted his gaze to where Crossbones stood, wiping his bloodied fist with a cloth—casual, methodical, like he'd done this a thousand times before.

Nathan grinned, his lip split and bleeding freely, but his voice was as steady as ever.

"I've had tickling sessions more unpleasant than whatever this is."

Crossbones stilled for a moment, then looked at him blankly. "That?" he said, tossing the bloodstained cloth aside. "That was just a greeting…"

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. "I haven't even started."

Nathan only tilted his head slightly, watching as Crossbones turned and started toward the exit.

"Wolfgang will be here in a minute," he continued, his boots clanking heavily against the floor as he moved. "He'll ask you some questions. If you don't cooperate, he'll leave."

He reached the door but paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "And then I'll be back."

Nathan said nothing, but his stare was unwavering, cold and assessing.

Crossbones let out a low chuckle. "The first thing I'll do when I get back…" He lifted one gloved hand and flexed his fingers slowly, as if already imagining the feel of what was to come. "I'm cutting off your right hand."

He let the words linger, heavy in the air. "So maybe try and be a bit cooperative, yeah?"

Nathan still didn't react, but Crossbones could hear his breathing—slow, controlled.

The HYDRA operative grinned beneath his mask, his voice laced with amusement. "Wouldn't be any fun breaking you if you weren't whole."

With that, he stepped out, and the lights cut out instantly, plunging the room into complete darkness.

Nathan let out a slow, measured breath, his muscles relaxing slightly as he shifted in his seat.

Crossbones was forcing his hand.

They had stripped him of all his gear—except for two things. The neuro-links embedded into his spine, the very thing allowing him to control his tech remotely. They couldn't remove those without killing him.

And the Floater.

He had activated its invisibility just before blacking out in the car, then secured it around his ankle, making it seem like nothing was there.

Nathan could have cut through the restraints in seconds—the Floater was more than capable of slicing through steel like a hot knife through butter. But he didn't. Not yet.

It was simple math. Statistics. And right now, the numbers weren't in his favor.

The only reason he let Crossbones work him over was because, like the HYDRA enforcer had so kindly pointed out, Nathan didn't know what was beyond that door.

For all he knew, he was in the heart of a HYDRA stronghold, surrounded by dozens, maybe hundreds of heavily armed operatives. If he made his move too soon, if he acted blindly, he'd be throwing away his best shot at getting out alive.

The more he understood his surroundings, the better his chances were. And some pain? That was easy enough to endure.

But Crossbones had just changed the equation. Nathan flexed his fingers, staring into the pitch blackness, weighing his options.

Losing a hand wasn't an inconvenience—it was a death sentence. Sure, he could survive it, maybe even adapt, but HYDRA wouldn't stop at just one limb. It would be his hand, then an eye, then his legs, until he was too broken to fight back.

He let out a slow breath, exhaling through his nose. No, he couldn't afford to wait that long.

The Floater stirred against his ankle, still invisible, responding to his silent command. A faint vibration hummed through his nerves as the device detached, shifting into motion.

It glided upward, the blade forming as it hovered over his wrist, carefully cutting through the cuffs—but not all the way. Nathan didn't want to break free just yet. Instead, he left the metal hanging by a sliver, weakened enough that he could snap them at a moment's notice.

A contingency.

Nathan had already resolved to make his move. But that didn't mean he'd act recklessly. He'd wait for Strucker to come back and then? He'd take him hostage.

He'd use him for as much intel as possible, get every scrap of information he could—then put him down.

Nathan wasn't naïve. This was exactly what Crossbones wanted. The man was itching for a rematch, hoping to goad Nathan into a fight, and now Nathan was playing right into his hands.

But there wasn't a better option.

Nathan smirked slightly, despite the sting in his split lip. If Crossbones wanted a fight, he was going to get one. He just wasn't going to like how it ended.

...

I'm motivated by praise and interaction, so be sure to leave a like, power stone, or whatever kind of shendig this site uses, and more importantly do share you thoughts on the chapter in the comment section!

Want more chapters? Then consider subscribing to my pat rēon. You can read ahead for as little as $1 and it helps me a lot! -> (pat rēon..com / wicked132)

You can also always come and say hi on my discord server -> (disc ord..gg / sEtqmRs5y7)- or hit me up at - Wicked132#5511 - and I'll add you myself)