An offshoot of the main story Breaking Bad
After I managed to get rid of the feds, I shut down all my darknet activities as quickly as possible, erased every possible trace, and cut all ties. Only then did I finally calm down and decide to focus entirely on the business that I had started to succeed in. My small sports nutrition company began to grow and gain popularity, bringing in a steady albeit modest profit.
Elizabeth was the one who kept me afloat. Thanks to her experience in running a large company, she managed to keep everything under control. I don't know what I would've done without her. She took a risk, leaving her high-paying job for something full of uncertainty. At first, I didn't see her as a mother just a stranger but over time, she became closer to me than anyone else. Aside from my sister, I had no one. And, most likely, never would.
The market was filled with various brands, but they all focused on sports nutrition for results. I focused on health. A broad market reach attracted not only athletes but also regular people who simply wanted to be healthy and look good. This idea came from Saul Goodman, and it paid off though he did demand a few percentage points in company shares in return. His help was worth it.
Of course, I had to work hard to keep the company running. From morning till night, I was at the production facility, overseeing every process. It was necessary for now, at least. The business wasn't fully stable yet. It might take years before I could finally relax.
After a grueling day, I could finally unwind. Grabbing my bag, I headed to the gym. My body responded well to the exercise, and I started taking better care of my health I didn't want to let myself wither away. I didn't own a car every cent I had was invested in the business, and I couldn't afford to spend money on personal luxuries.
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A sense of emptiness started gnawing at me, making me glance over my shoulder more often. Yet, despite my paranoia, I noticed no immediate threat. I couldn't afford to take risks I had to act cautiously. The incident with the feds had taught me that lesson well.
I picked up my pace, scanning my surroundings for anyone who might be tailing me. But there was no one. And that only made the anxiety worse.
Wandering aimlessly through the blocks led me nowhere, yet the sense of looming danger only grew stronger. I ducked into the nearest supermarket, seeking cover among the aisles. I paced between the shelves, trying to spot anyone who might be following me, hoping to remain unnoticed.
Then, as an employee pushed open the stockroom door, I seized the moment and slipped through before it could close.
"Hey, kid! What the hell are you doing here?" a man stacking boxes called out.
I ignored him, hoping to sneak out through the back exit. Cutting through an alley, I emerged onto another street. The panic subsided slightly, but returning to my apartment was out of the question.
Pulling out my phone, I hesitated before dialing Saul's number. There was no one else I could call. Whoever was after me, their intentions were anything but friendly.
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I suddenly snapped my head up and there he was.
A man in a suit stood directly in my path. His head was perfectly shaved, and his cold eyes sent a shiver down my spine. His face was frozen in a blank, unreadable expression.
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Stopping in front of him, I assessed my options. He was clearly stronger than me, and with my limp, running away quickly wasn't an option.
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Sensing a threat behind me, I took a step forward and suddenly turned around. Behind me stood an identical man to the first. He tried to throw a black bag over my head, but I managed to dodge. However, his partner quickly came to his aid and grabbed me. I swung my cane at him, but the result was far from effective. He easily knocked it out of my hands and, with a swift strike, blurred my vision. Darkness soon enveloped me as the bag was pulled over my head. I felt my hands being tightly bound before I was roughly thrown into a car, which sped off immediately.
One of them held me down in the back seat, pressing my head to the floor so I wouldn't be seen. I had to act carefully these weren't feds. Judging by everything, they were Mexicans. It seemed they had come after me because of that large money transfer offer I had turned down. If they wanted me dead, they would have killed me on the spot. That meant they needed me, but the problem was that once you're in, you never get out. No life just days. And those days don't last long.
I had to at least try to escape. One was driving, the other was sitting next to me. If I threw myself onto the road, it would definitely attract attention, and the bag over my head would force the cops to react immediately. They wouldn't get far. It was risky, but there was no other way.
It was going to hurt, but I suddenly kicked the one holding me, twisted my body toward the door, and tried to open it with my free hand. The moment I cracked it open, a heavy punch landed on my head then another, and another. Darkness took over again I had been knocked out.
I came to when a splash of water hit my face. I was sitting in a chair, my limbs tightly bound. The bag was gone from my head, revealing a dimly lit room, resembling an abandoned factory. Directly in front of me, a relaxed-looking older man sat, his hair streaked with gray. He wore a simple shirt and trousers, exuding an air of quiet authority.
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"You've been running for a long time, but when I want something, I get it and you'll remember that," he said, his piercing gaze locked onto me.
My chair was tilted back, and a cloth was placed over my face. Then, water began to pour over me. I started to choke, the ropes dug into my skin as I struggled to break free, but it was useless. Just as I was about to lose consciousness, the water stopped. They pulled the cloth away, and I began coughing, spitting out the water. As I regained my breath, I glanced around and saw two identical men standing behind me twins.
"Now that you've learned your lesson, the first thing you need to understand is this you work for me now," he said, pointing at himself as he rose from his chair. He stood over me, looking down. "You're my errand boy now. I hope you're not dumb enough to think you can walk away. And if you even try to resist..." He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a photograph it was my house.
A surge of anger flared up inside me. I understood the message loud and clear.
"Alright, my cousins will give you a phone. If you don't pick up, you'll pay for it. Got it?"
"...Yeah," I answered. I never thought it would come to this.
He nodded and turned to leave, but then, as if reconsidering something, he snapped his fingers. My chair was tilted back again, the damp cloth returned to my face, and another wave of water poured down. The torture was pointless but I understood. He wanted to break me.
An entire hour passed, filled with repeated "water treatments." I lost consciousness several times before it finally ended. I was drained, utterly exhausted. Even after they untied me, I couldn't move. They placed a phone on my lap, then the twins walked out, leaving me alone.
It took me another ten minutes to fully come to my senses. I picked up the phone, gripping it tightly. I wanted to throw it away, go to the police, report everything but I knew that if I stepped into that station, there would be no way back. I was already on their hook. There was no choice.
I didn't even know how I made it home. My cane was gone, and I was so delirious that I couldn't remember anything. I felt completely drained, like a squeezed lemon. I had no energy left to do anything, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead only made my nerves worse. Panic clawed at me, emotions raged.
Grabbing the phone, I dialed Saul's number.
"Ah, my favorite client. What happened? Got yourself in trouble again? Punched someone in the nose?" he said with a chuckle.
"Not the time for jokes, Saul. I'm knee-deep in shit," I answered, my voice heavy with exhaustion.
"Well, that doesn't sound good. What happened, kid?" he asked.
"Some guys found me. They look like Mexicans. They grabbed me off the street. Tortured me," I said. Silence hung on the other end, followed by the sound of shuffling papers.
"Kid, you're screwed. Sounds like a cartel got to you. I don't know how you managed to piss them off, but they don't leave enemies alive. If you're still breathing, it means they want something from you. So what is it?" Saul asked.
"I don't know. They just gave me a phone and said I work for them now," I replied.
"The feds had a rat. They got to you after them. I'm afraid there's nothing I can do to help. The only thing I can tell you is run. If you can find a place to disappear, consider yourself lucky," he said.
"There's nothing I can do if..." I struggled to get the words out. "If I turn myself in to the feds?"
"Won't work. The moment you show up there you're dead. Sorry, kid, I've got a lot on my plate today," he said. Saul clearly had no interest in helping me, not even for money.
"Alright," I muttered and hung up.
"So this is it, Bryan," I thought. "Easy money… That's what you told yourself back then. And look where it got you. Is this the end?" I asked myself, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
I hadn't even realized I had wandered into the bathroom. Turning on the cold shower, I stepped under the icy stream.
You live in the most dangerous city in the country, where death lurks around every corner and shootouts are just part of the scenery. As long as you're alive, there's still a way out.
I had to play by their rules. Wait until their attention wavered. They'd make mistakes, get weaker, and then… I'd strike. For now, all I could do was go with the flow, follow orders, be the obedient little servant disgusting as that sounded. The cold water helped clear my mind, washing away the raging emotions.
Turning off the shower, I lay down on the couch, staring at the ceiling, thinking about my next move. I knew what kind of power and influence they had. If I wanted to stand against them, I needed an army just as big, just as strong. And I needed money. Lots of it.
A plan started forming in my mind a path I had to take. A road that would either lead me to victory… or to my grave.