Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 5

Sebastian could manage himself in a dirty street fight, but that was it. "He has valuable information." He had nothing at all. "And I've already developed a rapport with him. If I can find out the status of his friend, then I'm sure he can be persuaded to come to my way of thinking."
    Folsom considered him for a minute before pulling a file from a stack and flipping it open. "El Basque, did you say?"
    "Yes, sir."
    Folsom looked up, and Drake steeled his reaction. "It says here that an El Basque was found not to be a material source of information and was sold to the mines."
    The words hammered into Drake almost as if he felt the grief on behalf of Sebastian. It wasn't the backbreaking work of the mines that would kill, it was the cold. Set in sub-freezing temperatures and only given the old jackets of the dead, a miner's average lifespan was a few months.
    El Basque had been held, probably without much food or drink, in a rebel prison for who knows how long before then. Even those of strong health often lost fingers and toes due to frostbite in the first few days. Being sold to the mines was a sentence to death by torture.
    Drake kept his voice even. "When was this?"
    Folsom shuffled through some pages. "Two weeks ago. Right after the raid. The boy was marked down as a rebel participant and brought here for questioning." His eyes sharpened on Drake. "You know as well as I that he's already dead. If not now then in a few day's time. I'll allow you to work on this boy for another day, because it wouldn't look good to pull an assignment from a senior officer. If you haven't broken him by then, I will remove you."
    "Understood, sir." His voice had dropped an octave, but Folsom would assume it was the threat of insult. Drake turned and marched from the room to Sebastian's cell.
    Sebastian scrambled to stand when he entered, but Drake pushed him back down.
    "Tell me. Was El Basque strong? Was he in good health?"
    "No." Sebastian's voice trembled. "Please. Tell me."
    Drake struggled not to let any sign of compassion show through. "Then he's likely dead." Sebastian slipped from his hands and fell back against the wall. He didn't cry. He just looked… lost. Drake hated that, and he hated being helpless to stop it.
    "What did they do to him?" Sebastian looked up at him, eyes shining, and suddenly he did look like the boy that Folsom called him. He looked young and vulnerable, and completely out of place in his dark prison.
    Drake debated briefly not telling him, but if all he had to offer Sebastian was the truth, then he would give it. "He was sold to the mines."
    Sebastian closed his eyes, swallowed hard. "Do you know if he –"
    "I have no further information. But that was two weeks ago."
    "I see."
    Sebastian's sorrow lay over them like a thick fog. Drake told himself to leave. Let the man grieve in peace. But he couldn't do it.
    He remembered this pain, felt it every day. Without conscious thought, he reached out and pulled Sebastian into his arms. He held on as the tears finally fell, as Sebastian mourned a man he loved. Drake held on tightly, as if he was the one adrift and only Sebastian could anchor him.
    As wet drops of anguish fell onto his arm, Drake knew that no matter what course was charted for his future, he would not allow Sebastian to be hurt. There were very few choices in this world, very few moments when a man had the chance to do something good, and this was one of them. Sebastian did not belong in this prison. He did not belong on this war-torn world at all, but it was the only one they had. Drake would set him free, at least.
    "Shh," he murmured into Sebastian's hair. He breathed in deep. "I know it hurts. I know."
    Then when Sebastian had quieted, Drake continued. "I'm going to get you out of here. You have to trust me."
    "No," Sebastian said, muffled.
    "Sebastian –" he started.
    "No! If you can do something for me, then I want you to help El Basque. Get him out of there. Even if he has to die –" Sebastian shuddered. "Let him die free. That is what I want."
    Drake held him silently. He only had a day before Folsom would take over Sebastian's care, which would mean rape and torture, if not death. He could not let that happen, yet he could not ignore Sebastian's plea. And each passing hour could very well mean death for a man in the mines.
    If he used the cargo ships, he would be able to arrive at the primary mines in a matter of hours. Of course, interstate transport was illegal without