Chapter Text
To say Harry Flynn had a shitty week was putting it mildly. He finally figured out the bloody clue, which would lead to King Johns lost treasure, he was ready to go, and then his employer pulled the brakes, started talking about needing more time to plan and to prepare. When he started to work for this guy, Harry figured himself lucky, rich and inexperienced was his favourite type of boss, someone to pay everything up until the end and then pull a fast one on him and get the treasure for himself. And now he was stuck here in King’s Lynn, Norfolk, with nothing to do but sit on his ass and wait for god knows how long.
Harry signalled the bartender to pour him another drink, while looking around the small hotel bar he had seen way too much of the last few days, desperate for any form of entertainment. Apart from two other guests, who looked so dreadfully boring he wasn’t even going to risk a conversation with them, the only remotely interesting thing was the old pool table in the corner, which wasn’t much use to him alone.
Right when Harry started contemplating if the frankly disturbing amount of cheap fish-themed decorations would be less offensive to the eye after getting shitfaced, the door of the bar opened. Through it stepped a guy about his age, with dark hair and a handsome enough face for Harry to be sure he would have noticed him, had he seen him here before.
The newcomer took a quick, sweeping look at the room before sitting down at the bar, leaving one free stool between them. Listening to the short chat between him and the bartender revealed to Harry that the guy was American and that he had just arrived in town on a business trip. Much more interesting to him however, was the Rolex on his wrist, and, well, the muscular arm attached to it was also quiet appealing. Harry’s evening just got much more exciting.
After nursing his drink for a few more minutes, and carefully continuing listening to the American making small talk with the bartender, Harry found his opening and with it also a golden opportunity to not only get some entertainment but also a few extra bucks. Putting on his most charming smile, he turned to his left.
“Hey mate, sorry to interrupt but I have a few hours to kill and I think I overheard something about the pool table over there. You interested in playing a few rounds?”
The stranger seemed surprised for a moment before returning his smile, “Sure, I could use a distraction. But fair warning, I don’t see the point of playing for nothing, what are the stakes?”
Harry had to fight to keep his smile just interested and not downright predatory, this guy might as well just hand him his wallet now, he practically was doing all the work for him.
“A man after my own heart,” he chuckled, “but I haven’t played pool in ages, how about to start with, we play for the next round?”
This made the man smirk and he seemed amused as he said: “Sure, but I won’t go easy on you.”
So far this was going right after textbook, get the guy to agree to play a few rounds, keep losing, slowly raise the stakes, and then go double or nothing and finally win the last round. Something told Harry, if he got the guy drunk enough, he could probably even persuade him to gamble away his Rolex. And if he wasn’t as easy a target he seemed now, well, there were other fun ways to kill some time, preferably involving a closer inspection of those arms and the toned chest between them.
“Alright”, Harry offered him his hand, “I am Harry by the way.”
A firm handshake. “My name is Raphael, but please, call me Rafe.”
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About two hours later, it was clear to Harry that he was going to take Rafe’s Rolex up to his room tonight and not the man himself, since he was way too drunk already. Almost a pity, really, but such an ideal target was something Harry just had to take advantage of.
As it turned out, Rafe was not only rich, but he was also a very proud, very competitive man and also a lightweight. Seriously, where was this guy all his life?
A slightly swaying Rafe was looking through his wallet right now only to realize that he had no cash anymore, since the last game had been double or nothing, and Harry had, of course, won. Now only a little more coaxing and Harry’s week will not have been a complete waste.
“Looks like I got finally lucky, huh? I say we let it be and I’ll buy another round.”
At that, Rafe frowned and shook his head, “No, no, I’ll play you again, can’t have some beginner beat me.”
His words were starting to slur and his hair started to look dishevelled, destroying the pristine look he had at the beginning of the evening.
Now all Harry had to do was not appear to eager, let Rafe think it was his idea.
“I hate to break it to you mate, but I think you’re out of money.”
Appeal to his ego, “You’ll have to admit defeat on this one.”
The frown on Rafe’s face deepened, and he looked like he was pouting now.
Harry looked at his own watch, and pretend to be surprised, “Oh, I hadn’t realized how late it already is.” Rafe was following his example, and looked at his own watch.
“I’ll play you for my watch.” Gotcha.
“Nah mate, I couldn’t, really, that thing looks expensive.”
Rafe snorted, “Money is no problem, believe me. Also, it won’t matter ‘cause I won’t lose.”
Harry had to hide a smile, “If you say so.”
It only took Harry a few minutes, and he was holding a shiny new Rolex in his hands. Rafe didn’t seem to bothered by this, more so by the fact that he lost, but then again he seemed to be really drunk right now. Announcing that this wasn’t over yet, he staggered towards the toilet. Walking past Harry, he would have tripped over his own feet, hadn’t the Brit reached out and steadied him.
“Careful buddy, you alright?” asked Harry, doing his best to sound worried and not amused.
Rafe waved off his concern and continues this way into the hallway. Harry took a moment to admire the view of him walking away, again feeling almost bad that the evening hadn’t progressed in a different direction.
When Rafe was out of his sight, he decided to use this opportunity to put away all the cash he had won earlier. He slid his hand down his pocket, to get his wallet out and froze, then frantically started to pat down all his pockets, only to realize they all were empty. His wallet was gone. And his phone.
Swearing he started after Rafe, rounded the corner and found it empty. The only two doors were the one to the toilets and a staff room, which needed a key card. He looked in the toilets without much hope, and of course, it was empty. Taking a closer at the Rolex he was expecting it to be fake, but was surprised to find it real. But in his wallet were only a few bucks, and the watch was worth thousands, so really the trade of wasn’t even close. Except, if this wasn’t about his wallet… And if it was about his phone… The bloody letter, he had a photograph of the translated letter on it. The goddamn bastard was after the treasure and had played him from the beginning.
Harry kicked the wall, and cursed again. Then he forced himself to calm down and think about it rationally. He went back to the main room of the bar and headed straight for the bartender.
“The man who was here before, Rafe, is he a guest at this hotel?”
The bartender was clearly hesitating, which was a sign that he knew something. Annoyed, Harry hit the top of the bar, startling the other man, who seemed now to realize that they were the only two people left in the room.
“I suggest you start talking, or I won’t ask nice again”, Harry snarled.
This worked, as the bartender raised his hands in a placating gesture and said, “Alright, he isn’t, he paid me for my key card and to pretend like he was a guest but said to put no booze in his drinks, he told me not to ask questions and it was a lot of money so-“
Knowing everything he needed to know, Harry turned away from the rambling man and stalked out of the bar, to find the nearest payphone. The sooner he told his employer about this, the better. At least now, even he would realize that they had no time to loose.
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Rafe Adler was having a fantastic week. One of his contacts had informed him that there were rumours about a new development concerning the treasure of King John, missing since 1216, which supposedly included not only the crown jewels but also jewellery and gold coins. Apparently a letter had been found that linked the lost riches to the pirate known as Eustace the monk, who had supported the French in the war against England from 1215 until his death in 1217.
Upon hearing this, Rafe had immediately taken the next flight to England, to meet his contact for more information in Norfolk. The woman had in turn introduced him to the right people to bribe to learn that a man named Harry Flynn was currently in possession of the letter and also owned the cipher needed to translate its contents. Finding out the whereabouts of Harry Flynn had been easy enough once Rafe knew who he was working for and just had to follow the credit card trail, especially considering he was still in Kings Lynn, Norfolk. An amateur move, in Rafes opinion.
After having Flynn followed for two days to find out what he was up to, Rafe decided it was time to make contact and scoop out the situation himself. From everything he had learned about him, the guy had plenty of free time and seemed restless, which was a good indicator that he had already translated the letter and was waiting on something. Probably the necessary funding from his employer to continue his search, a problem Rafe wouldn’t run into.
The bartender of the hotel Flynn was staying in was happy enough to take his money and not ask any questions, making it easy for Rafe to pose as a hotel guest. It didn’t take long for Flynn to take notice of him, or better put, notice of his wealth. He was subtle enough about it, but he was far from being the first guy who thought of Rafe as an easy target. And if Rafe was a few years younger, he had to admit, he would have been all too happy to naively fall for Flynn’s charming smile.
He wasn’t though, and Flynn wasn’t even creative about his hustling attempt. The fact that he was almost following along a textbook instruction made him all too predictable, which in turn made it easy for Rafe to give the reactions expected from an unsuspecting victim. He hadn’t even necessarily planned to play Flynn but this was an opportunity he just couldn’t let go by unused.
So when Flynn was trying to coax him into playing a last round for his watch, Rafe knew this was his opportunity. Surely, a shiny new Rolex would distract the thief enough for Rafe to get to his phone.
It didn’t take long for Flynn to beat him, and Rafe didn’t even have to pretend too much to be upset about losing. Even when planned, he had never been good at admitting defeat.
He slurred something about this not being over, almost concerned with playing up the drunk angle too much for it to be believable, but Flynn seemed to be distract enough with his win to notice anything. On his way to the toilet he pretended to trip, and when Flynn reached out to steady him, he quickly swiped the man’s phone and wallet from his pocket.
“Careful buddy, you alright?” asked Flynn when he was back on his own feet.
Rafe waved off the question which he assumed was supposed to sound less amused than it did, and kept on pretend stumbling out of the bar.
As soon as he was around the corner, he used the key card the bartender had given him to walk through the door to the staff room and from there out the backdoor into an alley behind the hotel. To be honest, Rafe had only needed Flynn’s phone, since photos of the translated letter were on it, in order to be sent to Flynn’s employer, but he just handed the guy his Rolex and a few hundred bucks, and Rafe had never denied being petty.
Rafe couldn’t keep the satisfied smile of his face, as he quickly made his way to the place his driver was waiting and got in the car, telling the man to immediately take him to the harbour, where his boat was stationed. During the drive he couldn’t help but keep drumming his fingers impatiently on his knee, wanting to find out the content of the letter as fast as possible. However, for that to be possible he needed the decryption software on his laptop, which he had stored on the boat just to be safe.
After half an hour, which felt like an eternity to Rafe, they finally arrived at the docks and he had to control himself to not sprint to the laptop to plug the phone in.
Anticipation started to boil in his chest as he starred at the display, where the software was doing everything it promised when he bought it. It only took minutes to gain access to every bit of data stored on the phone and Rafe couldn’t help but hold his breath as he opened the photograph of the translated letter. He quickly read through it, and then carefully repeated the process, slower this time, to make sure he didn’t miss anything.
The rumours were true, the letter was from Eustace himself, sent to his brother to inform him that Eustace was bringing ‘England’s royal treasure’ to their base.
Laughter bubbled from Rafes chest and he leaned back in his chair to enjoy the rush of adrenaline that made his heart beat faster. He knew exactly where he needed to go.