Date: Mon, 05 Jul 1999 16:41:45 CDT From: Gay Night Subject: Nsync-Gang-4 Disclaimer - This story contains gay relationships between the members of the pop music band N-Sync and a fictional character. This story in no way implies that any members of N-Sync is gay (but if they are they should feel free to e-mail me). If you are under the legal age to read pornographic material in your area please leave immediately. The author takes no responsibility for anyone's actions based upon this work of fiction. Questions, Comments, Suggestions - e-mail GayNight@hotmail.com Now that that is out of the way. Enjoy!!! The-N'Sync-Gang When I arrived home I jumped out of the car and ran directly for the secret passage at the end of the hall. I ran down the stairs and into the briefing room. They were just finishing up the briefing as I walked in. When they heard me walk in, they turned to face me. They turned back and I waited for the briefing to end. "Alright guys," I said when they had finished, "this is very important to me. The man we are rescuing is my uh. . .significant other. He has no idea what is going on, he doesn't even know what I really do for a living." I watched their faces to see their reaction to this information. As usual there was no obvious reaction, they were trained well. "He needs to be rescued without being hurt. What you do to the jokers holding him is your decision. We have a clean-up crew coming behind us so feel free to 'remove' the threat if it is necessary. Try and capture the obvious ringleader, I would like to find out who is in charge of this. If you can't capture him, kill him. "Now we are going to have several untrained men with us. We will keep them out of trouble, but their lives are also very important. They must be kept out of harm's way at all cost. Everyone get it?" I looked for nods, which I got from all present. "Good, let's do this!" We walked calmly out of the room and got in the cars, large black Volvos with souped up engines. We raced back into the city. My car headed for the hotel that the guys were staying at, the other went to the warehouse district to do some scouting. We pulled up in front of the hotel. I jumped out of the car and ran to the elevators in the lobby. I reached the floor the guys were on, only to be greeted by all of them standing right next to the elevator. The elevator doors hadn't been open for two seconds when they all rushed into the elevator and started bombarding me with questions. JC stood in front of me and looked into my eyes. "Where the hell is Lance!?!" he asked coldly. His blue eyes had turned into to solid blocks of ice. At the vehmenent sound of his voice the elevator became silent. "I'm not really sure, but we are tracking the cellphone that was used to call me. Our best guess is that the person with the cellphone has Lance with him," I told them. "Our best guess?" JC said, his voice losing none of its malice. "Me and my boys. There isn't time to explain it all now, that will have to wait until after we get Lance. For now, we are going to give you protective gear, and guns. But don't try and get in on the action, if there is any, we can't afford to have any of you get hurt. We can't bring you to a proper hospital, it would be all over the news in a matter of hours." JC turned his back on me. The elevator was silent for the rest of the trip down, but the air carried so much tension it was almost tangible. The elevator deposited us on the ground floor and we ran across the lobby out to the car. By and act of god none of the guys were recognized and we were able to make it to the car in the shortest possible amount of time. Lance sat, strapped to a chair with his hands bound behind his back, and his ankles tied together. He was crying, leaving watery trails of tears down his cheeks. His face was flushed, and his eyes almost glowed red. "Don't take it too hard," a man behind him said, "he couldn't have really loved you. You know that! He is just street slime that happened to make a lot of money off of other people. He doesn't love you and you don't really love him. You know that!" Lance cried harder. The man kept repeating his words, forcing them into Lance's brain. His eyes stung, his whole body ached. His sides burned with each sob. He was so tired he welcomed the blackness that flowed over his body. The calm rejuvenating feel of oblivion. A figured clothed in black stood atop a neighboring warehouse, peering through a pair of binoculars. He saw Lance tied to the chair, then a man stepped in front of him, obscuring his vision. When the man moved away, Lance was sagging forward, apparently unconcious. The figure pulled a radio from his pocket, "Joe, the target seems to be unconcious, cause unknown." I felt a tapping on my shoulder and turned. My right hand man, Joe, leaned over and whispered in my ear. "We're getting there as fast as we can, tell them not to move in until we get there. If that is the condition then we can't do anything for him until we get there. Besides I want to be there to et thing straight!" JC, Justin, Joey, and Chris looked at me, faces incompletely masking their emotions. 'They're scared, and angry, and don't know what to believe,' I thought. 'You would be too if you were in their place,' that voice inside told me. I shook my head to clear it of all the nonsense, than began to think of ways to get the job done. "Is the area fortified?" a man asked. "We're working on it, sir." "Well don't work on it, GET IT DONE!!! They might try something stupid. We can't afford to do this wrong, we need the leverage! No matter what happens Brandon Blakarde cannot get his hands on this kid!!!" The car pulled up down the street from the warehouse where Lance was being held. We jumped out of the car and quickly ran across the street. Several of my men were waiting for us there. They briefed me quickly. We ran to the entrance of the warehouse and took out the guards there with silencers. I took out a radio and spoke into it. "Alright everyone, on my mark. One. . .two. . .mark!" We opened and ran through the door, into the warehouse's main room. The floor was littered with dead bodies, and men were running through the room, shooting at anyone that didn't appear to be in their gang. I pulled out my gun and began taking out rival gang members. The fire-fight ended as quickly as it had begun. None of the the members of my gang were hurt, they were smart enough to wear bullet- proof clothing. All the rival gang members were dead, save one. I couldn't wait any longer. I ran to Lance, the rest of the guys hot on my heels. I pulled a knife from my belt and cut the ropes holding him to his chair. As the ropes parted he began to fall forward. I caught him and held him in my arms. Tears ran quietly down my face. I layed Lance down on the ground and began checking his body for wounds. There were none. I got up and walked over to the ,lone surviving rival gang member. I felt anger clinging to me like a red-hot leach, stuck fast to my body. I stood in front of him, my eyes drilling holes in his face. I pulled back and punched him. I felt the satifying crunch of bone as I broke his jaw. "You will serve as a warning to your boss," I said maliciously. I pulled back again and rammed the butt of my hand into the bottom of his nose. I heard another crunch and his body went limp. "Now you're as brain-dead as you were acting," I hissed. I turned to Joe, "Drop him off in front of Boss Hacknem's place. I think he'll get the message." I walked back over to the group of guys surronding Lance. About halfway there I broke down, fell to the floor and began to sob. Lance stood in a completely black room. Everything was black, the ceiling, the floor, the walls, everything. Was he floating in space? He couldn't feel a floor, but he seemed to be on something solid, he didn't feel like he was falling. As he looked around him, trying to find anything to focus his eyes on, a man took shape before him. Lance recognized him as the man who had kidnapped him. The man moved his mouth. At first there were no words, but soon he began to hear them, getting louder and louder. "You know Bran doesn't love you. How could he, he didn't even tell you what he does. Think about it, he kills people for a living. You go to church, killing is sin. Can you love someone who sins? Can you?" The man kept droaning on and on. Soon, Lance tuned him out and began to survey his surrondings. The man continued to speak, repeating the same things over and over. Lance quickly finished looking around, aside from the man and himself there was nothing. The man continued to speak. Lance couldn't help but listen to the words, they were the only thing to focus on. "Can you love someone who sins?" the man was saying. "Everyone sins," Lance said. "We all sin, whether we mean to or not. We can't help but sin, we are not perfect. Bran isn't perfect and neither are you! I don't care what he does, I love him!" With those words the man faded and the black world began to take on light. The light grew brighter and brighter until Lance was forced to close his eyes to block it out. The light grew still brighter forcing its way through his eyelids. He tried to moved his hand up to cover his eyes, but found that he could not move. The light faded and again he looked at blackness, but this darkness was different. Different in an indescribable way. He felt feeling slowly seep into his arms and legs. He felt warm cement beneath him, and hot, humid air on his face. Slowly his hearing returned. At first he could only make out sounds, they seemed to have no meaning. He focused on them and recognized them as words. "He's going to be ok, he seems to be recovering." "Thank god," he knew that second voice, that was Justin. Lance opened his eyes and waited as the world slowly came into focus. He saw JC, Joey, Justin, and Chris hovering over him, worried expressions on all their faces. He also saw another face, obviously the man who has been speaking to JC. 'He must be the doctor,' Lance thought. "Hey guys," he croaked, forcing a smile onto his face. At his words the guy's faces changed from frown to smile. "Thank god for small miracles," JC said. Lance looked around for Bran but couldn't find him. His face must have shown his distress because they were all suddenly asking if he was ok. "Yeah, I'm fine," Lance told them. "But, where is Bran?" When he spoke those words JC's face darkened. Lance recognized the barely controlled anger. He decided that he would sort that out later. "I'll go get him," Justin said slowly. He hesitated a moment before leaving the room to find Bran. "Can you guys please leave while I talk to him," Lance said. "Sure, whatever you say Scoop," Chris said. They all walked out, JC trailing behind. Lance saw his face was clouded with anger, which had been heated by his request, and jealousy, something that he had never known JC to show towards anyone in the group. That it was there scared Lance. He sat, thinking uncomfortable thoughts, waiting for Bran to come. I sat quietly in the hall next to Lance's room, lost in thought. 'What will Lance think of me now that he knows what I do for a living. Will he still love me or will he hate me? What am I going to do if he hates me? I can't bear to lose him.' I heard the door to his room open and close. I assumed it was Sam, my medical man. I was surprised when Justin walked over to me and squatted in front of me, trying to catch my eyes. I looked into his eyes, and felt mine well up with emotions. I wanted to reach out cry on Justin's shoulder. But I couldn't do that, especially under the present circumstances. I had to appear strong, for the guys, and Lance, and myself. "Lance wants to talk to you," Justin said. I nodded. 'Now I'm in for it. I wish it wasn't so soon. He he going to tell me off and not want to see me ever again.' I slowly stood and walked to the door. Before I could open the door, it swung open and the rest of the guys stepped out. As JC passed he gave me a look of pure anger. I walked into the room and saw Lance lying there with his eyes closed. I sat on a stool next to the bed and waited for him to say something. He opened his eyes and turned his head to me. I could tell that it took him a moment to focus on my face, because he stared at me blankly for a moment. Before he could say anything that I would regret I said, "Lance, I'm so sorry. I never meant for it to go that far. I didn't tell you that I'm a gangster because I knew that you would hate me for it. All I wanted was love, and I destroyed that before it ever got off the ground. I know you can't possibly forgive me, so I'm gonna leave now. When you are all better I'll have someone drop you off at your hotel and I will never bother you again, so long as I live." When I has finished my short speach I got up and began to slowly walk out of the room. "Wait!" I heard Lance's weak voice behind me. I turned to face him. His face was filled with worry and sadness, and something I have never expect to see on his face again in a million years. Love. I returned to the stool and sat back down. "Bran, I don't want you to just walk out on me. I. . . I understand why you did what you did. Besides if I had really wanted to know what you did I could have pressed the matter. You have to remember that I am constantly being seen for what I am instead of who I am. I know exactly how you felt, and feel. I only have one question about the whole thing. Have you ever killed anyone?" "Not until yesterday," I said. "I had never killed anyone until those bastards kidnapped you. We had to kill them or they would have killed us, or you." The words hurt but I had to say them; I had to let him know. I never wanted to hold back from Lance again. Lance smiled at me, a single tear formed in his eye. "I love you," he whispered. "I love you too," I said. I leaned down and kissed him gently on the forehead than lightly on them lips. "You get some more rest, you need it. We can talk more later." I got up, fixed his sheets and slowly quietly walked out of the room. Lance was asleep before I got even halfway. I stepped out into the hall and all the guys looked up at me. Curious expressions on their faces except for JC, his face was still a mask of anger and. . . jealousy. I recognized the second emotion now that I wasn't so lost in my own brooding. "He's sleeping," I told them. "You can talk to him when he gets up." I walked down through the halls of the house to my room. I closed the door behind me, walked over to my bed and collapsed in relief. Lance awoke several hours later. He looked out the window and saw the dusk sun falling below the horizon. He watched, unmoving, as the sun fell all the way down, plunging the land into darkness. Lance rolled out of bed, steadying himself before standing. He walked slowly to the door and opened it, poking his head out into the hall. He waited a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the light. All the guys were sleeping, leaning against one another. Joey was snoring lightly, and Justin was twitching in his sleep. Other than those two there was no movement. Lance crept silently down the hall, trying not to wake the guys. It looked like they had had a long say and he didn't want to disturb their much needed 'beauty sleeps.' Lance found his way down to Bran's room and opened the door slowly. He smiled when he saw Bran sprawled out on the bed, sleeping soundly. He crept into the room and walked over to Bran. He leaned down and lifted Bran the rest of the way onto the bed. He noticed just how heavy Bran's swimmer's build could be. After getting Bran fully onto the bed, Lance bent down kissed Bran lightly on the cheek and crawled into bed next to him. He wrapped Bran in his arms and fell asleep, comforted by Bran's nearness. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- To Be Continued Questions, Comments, Suggestions - e-mail GayNight@hotmail.com