Calling the guards to come put Maximoff back in her cell tasted like bile on his tongue, and watching them haul her roughly away made rage spike within him.
All he could think of was if someone was treating his daughter this way...if someone had taken Betty and restrained her like that...tortured her, molested her, raped and abused her the way they had done to Wanda...
He grit his teeth, forcing a slow breath.
He had to focus.
He was the only one that the captured Avengers had to help them right now, the only one on the outside who knew where they were, or could fight to free them. He couldn't blow his cover.
"She give you anything good?"
Ross turned slowly, forcing a mild smile across his face as he found the warden at his side, a gleefully sadistic grin on her face.
"A few things. All classified information, of course. I'm sure you understand."
"Oh, of course. Shall we continue to...interrogate her" - and the way she said the words made him want to shudder - "while you're away?"
"No, that won't be necessary. I've got all of the information I need for now, and I'd like her to remain relatively undamaged. No need to ruin such a pretty face over nothing."
"Ah, you've taken a liking to her as well?" the warden asked, raising an eyebrow in a way that left no doubt at all that she meant sexually.
Ross swallowed hard, trying not to let his face betray what he was feeling.
Wanda had warned him that he would have to play along.
"I'd like her a lot better if she wasn't such a complete, disgusting mess. Have you let every damn guard in this joint have a turn with her?"
"Is...is there a problem with that?" the woman asked, but to his relief she sounded more nervous than suspicious, so he pressed on.
"Let me make something clear," he said, turning to the warden with his arms crossed. "Maximoff is mine. I don't want your men in there using her and leaving her all stretched out or covered in their filth - it took me long enough to clean her off as it was. And she'd better be in the same damn condition that I left her in when I next return. I don't need to spend half my time here cleaning her out before I get to have a go. Do you think you could manage a simple task like that?"
"Of course, sir," the warden replied with a humble, if wicked smile. "I'll tell the boys to keep their paws off her from now on."
"Good. If anyone is going to make a mess of the little bitch, it's going to be me," Ross nodded.
He wanted to throw up.
"She is a rather sweet little creature," the warden hummed, making a motion for him to follow and waiting for him to grab his briefcase before leading the way back to the landing pad. "Nice body...pretty face...a bit defiant, but the collar does a good job of taking the fight out of her, as I'm sure you've seen. If you would like, we can have her brought up to your office for you, the next time you drop by."
"That would be nice."
"And perhaps next time you're here, I'll have an offer to share with you," she said, a little smile in her words that had Ross feeling chilled.
"I don't take bribes."
"I was leaning more toward 'business proposal.' And don't think of it as a bribe...think of her as a signing bonus, of sorts."
"Go on," he replied as mildly as he could, making his way toward the waiting jet.
"I can't guarantee anything yet, but once I've talked to some of the higher-ups, I'm sure we could find room for a man of your...influence."
His skin felt like something was crawling along it.
"You have until I next return to impress me. Do try not to mess up my plaything while I'm gone," he said with as much of a dismissive tone as he could muster, firmly shoving the memory of Wanda's terrified glance to the back of his mind.
"We'll be sure to take good care of her for you," the warden smiled, pacing to a stop at the edge of the landing pad. Ross had to suppress a shudder.
"And do try not to damage the others too badly," he added, tossing the words calmly over his shoulder as he crossed the launch pad and boarded the jet. "I need them to be in one piece for my plans. Bind the archer's broken fingers, at the very least. Make sure they're set properly. He's useless to me without them. And make sure Falcon's eye isn't damaged. I don't need a half-blind pilot."
"Yes, Sir," she nodded, that wicked shark-grin back in place. "We look forward to your return."
Ross gave a little wave, dismissing her, before ducking around the corner of the jet and letting himself slouch into one of the seats.
"Where to, Sir?" the pilot called, flicking switches as the engines roared to life around them.
"DC. I have some people to talk to."
"Roger."
The craft lurched a little as the ground moved upward beneath them, the enormous prison doors opening above their heads to allow the landing pad to rise above the water. Once they were cleared of the prison, the pilot lifted them off the ground, circling for half a lap to get them headed in the right direction before tipping back and gaining altitude.
Ross stared out the window, his eyes focused without seeing on the gray ocean beneath him, taking slow breaths to quell the sick feeling that was choking him.
He had a lot of work to do, and not a lot of time to do it in.
He had to get to the States, get help, and get back before the guards did anything worse to his prisoners.
The only problem was...he no longer knew who he could truly trust.
Fill: There Is A Line (5/?)
Calling the guards to come put Maximoff back in her cell tasted like bile on his tongue, and watching them haul her roughly away made rage spike within him.
All he could think of was if someone was treating his daughter this way...if someone had taken Betty and restrained her like that...tortured her, molested her, raped and abused her the way they had done to Wanda...
He grit his teeth, forcing a slow breath.
He had to focus.
He was the only one that the captured Avengers had to help them right now, the only one on the outside who knew where they were, or could fight to free them. He couldn't blow his cover.
"She give you anything good?"
Ross turned slowly, forcing a mild smile across his face as he found the warden at his side, a gleefully sadistic grin on her face.
"A few things. All classified information, of course. I'm sure you understand."
"Oh, of course. Shall we continue to...interrogate her" - and the way she said the words made him want to shudder - "while you're away?"
"No, that won't be necessary. I've got all of the information I need for now, and I'd like her to remain relatively undamaged. No need to ruin such a pretty face over nothing."
"Ah, you've taken a liking to her as well?" the warden asked, raising an eyebrow in a way that left no doubt at all that she meant sexually.
Ross swallowed hard, trying not to let his face betray what he was feeling.
Wanda had warned him that he would have to play along.
"I'd like her a lot better if she wasn't such a complete, disgusting mess. Have you let every damn guard in this joint have a turn with her?"
"Is...is there a problem with that?" the woman asked, but to his relief she sounded more nervous than suspicious, so he pressed on.
"Let me make something clear," he said, turning to the warden with his arms crossed. "Maximoff is mine. I don't want your men in there using her and leaving her all stretched out or covered in their filth - it took me long enough to clean her off as it was. And she'd better be in the same damn condition that I left her in when I next return. I don't need to spend half my time here cleaning her out before I get to have a go. Do you think you could manage a simple task like that?"
"Of course, sir," the warden replied with a humble, if wicked smile. "I'll tell the boys to keep their paws off her from now on."
"Good. If anyone is going to make a mess of the little bitch, it's going to be me," Ross nodded.
He wanted to throw up.
"She is a rather sweet little creature," the warden hummed, making a motion for him to follow and waiting for him to grab his briefcase before leading the way back to the landing pad. "Nice body...pretty face...a bit defiant, but the collar does a good job of taking the fight out of her, as I'm sure you've seen. If you would like, we can have her brought up to your office for you, the next time you drop by."
"That would be nice."
"And perhaps next time you're here, I'll have an offer to share with you," she said, a little smile in her words that had Ross feeling chilled.
"I don't take bribes."
"I was leaning more toward 'business proposal.' And don't think of it as a bribe...think of her as a signing bonus, of sorts."
"Go on," he replied as mildly as he could, making his way toward the waiting jet.
"I can't guarantee anything yet, but once I've talked to some of the higher-ups, I'm sure we could find room for a man of your...influence."
His skin felt like something was crawling along it.
"You have until I next return to impress me. Do try not to mess up my plaything while I'm gone," he said with as much of a dismissive tone as he could muster, firmly shoving the memory of Wanda's terrified glance to the back of his mind.
"We'll be sure to take good care of her for you," the warden smiled, pacing to a stop at the edge of the landing pad. Ross had to suppress a shudder.
"And do try not to damage the others too badly," he added, tossing the words calmly over his shoulder as he crossed the launch pad and boarded the jet. "I need them to be in one piece for my plans. Bind the archer's broken fingers, at the very least. Make sure they're set properly. He's useless to me without them. And make sure Falcon's eye isn't damaged. I don't need a half-blind pilot."
"Yes, Sir," she nodded, that wicked shark-grin back in place. "We look forward to your return."
Ross gave a little wave, dismissing her, before ducking around the corner of the jet and letting himself slouch into one of the seats.
"Where to, Sir?" the pilot called, flicking switches as the engines roared to life around them.
"DC. I have some people to talk to."
"Roger."
The craft lurched a little as the ground moved upward beneath them, the enormous prison doors opening above their heads to allow the landing pad to rise above the water. Once they were cleared of the prison, the pilot lifted them off the ground, circling for half a lap to get them headed in the right direction before tipping back and gaining altitude.
Ross stared out the window, his eyes focused without seeing on the gray ocean beneath him, taking slow breaths to quell the sick feeling that was choking him.
He had a lot of work to do, and not a lot of time to do it in.
He had to get to the States, get help, and get back before the guards did anything worse to his prisoners.
The only problem was...he no longer knew who he could truly trust.