In the end, I was only able to get to 16,870, and the story still isn't finished, but I thought I would share what I was able to create anyway. It's basically a high-tempo action thriller with a main character who gets dragged way in over his head. I was sort of going for something in between The Bourne Identity and Bullet Train. It is still very much in rough shape, there are no chapter breaks, and it is unfinished. I do plan on working on it some more in the future, but I thought I would share what I was able to create within the November timeframe as a kind of Personal Best to measure myself against for future NaNoWriMo attempts. While it was fun to write, I'm not certain if it's really my best writing, as I was mostly trying to keep pushing the action forward one way or another. If you want to leave any feedback, please do so in the comments section below.
As a side note, I did make something of a music playlist to help inspire me. While I won't post the whole thing, as it was over 17 hours long, but below is a YouTube playlist that provides a condensed version of it to give you an idea of what I was listening to while writing it:
Elimination Virus
Michael Bennett got onboard the somewhat packed subway car and found himself a spot in the middle of the floor. Placing his left hand on the shiny rail above, he braced his feet in anticipation of the sudden jolt of movement that would take them all to the next stop. The subway soon lurched, and once he got used to its speed, he stretched his legs and relaxed. After sitting all day, standing felt pretty good, actually. Reflecting back on the day, he was able to get a few sales and improve his numbers for the week. It had been a long, but successful day, and he was ready to head home.
Michael considered himself as a pretty average man. He was a little on the tall side, but had a rather plain face, now sporting a bit of a five o'clock shadow as he hadn't shaved for a few days. He wore a nice, blue business suit, and had a simple side-part in his brown hair. As the subway shifted, making it's way over a few buildings, his grey eyes saw the city of Tansall below him, as he had seen many times before. It was a nice view, though.
However, he noticed that someone next to him was waving his hand to get his attention. When he turned, Michael saw another man about as tall as him, but with a rather weary smile on his face. He wore a beige trenchcoat over some simple street clothes, and his hair was black, which hung about his ears and had a shaggy quality to it, like seaweed.
"Can I help you?" Michael asked. His salesman's voice wasn't completely gone, and he hoped he didn't sound too annoyed, because he really wasn't.
"Yeah," the other man said, holding up a metal suitcase by the sides, with the handle available on top. "My shoelaces have come undone, and I'd like to tie them, but I don't really have a place to set this down. Can you hold onto it for a minute?"
Michael was a little puzzled by this, but didn't think too hard about it. The car was pretty packed, so maybe it made a bit of sense.
"Sure," Michael said easily. He pulled his right hand out of his pocket to grab the rail above so that he could grab the handle of the suitcase with his left hand, turning his body toward the stranger as a consequence.
"Thanks," the other man said, smiling. When the suitcase was taken, he crouched down to fix his shoe. Michael then glanced around, as he figured he shouldn't stare at the man. He looked around the car and saw plenty of other passengers content in being ignored. The windows continued to show the landscape of the city, basking in sunlight that wasn't going to be around for too much longer.
At that moment, the subway car lurched to a stop. It was a little sudden, and it forced Michael to tighten his grip on the handrail, and since it wasn't his dominant hand, he grimaced to hang on. He didn't fall over, and was able to regain his balance, but his shoulder ached a little. Sometimes his rides on the subway would have these sudden stops, but they were never pleasant. However, the stop was short, and the subway began moving again.
Once he regained his footing and could stand up straight again, he was surprised to see that the man he was helping was no longer there. He looked around to try and find him, but didn't see his seaweed-covered head among the passengers in his car. He turned to an older woman wearing a flowery shirt and white pants sitting on one of the seats.
"Hey, did you see where that guy went?" he asked her once he got her attention.
She looked around a bit, then shrugged. "Musta gotten off at that last stop," she replied.
"But I still have his suitca-" he started to say, but as he lifted it to show, he realized that his hand holding the handle was starting to feel a little weird. He lifted it closer to his face and noticed that the handle had a bit of a shiny gloss to it. He sniffed it, and quickly recognized the smell.
Superglue.
Michael rolled his eyes. He had been the target of a prank. The memory of his friends doing something similar to him in college came storming through his mind. He had gotten drunk, and when he sobered up, he had found that they had superglued his fingers together on both of his hands. He had gotten pretty mad at them for it, as he had a paper due and he couldn't really type as a consequence of their antics. They apologized and got some solvent to help loosen them up again. They were good guys, but he swore from then on he wouldn't ever get that drunk around them again.
Still, this was a pretty annoying way to end the day, especially since it was a pretty good one. He grimaced and bore the weight of the suitcase as he continued his journey home. Soon, as the stops came and went, the car began to empty out, so he took the opportunity to sit down and take a closer look at the suitcase.
It was a pretty typical metal suitcase, with some parallel lines bulging slightly out across the face of its sides. Michael awkwardly turned the case over to look at the other side, seeing that those same lines were interrupted by another set of lines making a hexagon shape that covered most of that side. However, there was nothing within that hexagon, as if some company logo hadn't been printed there yet, for some reason. He didn't see any kind of latches or hinges, but did see that, to the side of the handle there was some kind of combination lock that showed a sequence of five numbers. He tried messing with the numbers for a bit with his free hand, seeing that they went all 10 digits from zero to nine, but knew that he would never get the code by luck, considering the sheer number of combinations that were possible with a code that long.
Michael sighed, and decided he'd check to see if the station had something that would help. However, when he got off the subway at his normal stop and spoke with the attendant there, she had nothing that could really help him. He was disappointed, as he was hoping he could get this off of him and leave in their lost-and-found, but clearly he didn't have luck on his side. He knew he had some solvent at his apartment, though, so he started walking his usual way home, now with this sudden extra weight he hadn't anticipated in carrying.
For what it was worth, the suitcase wasn't that heavy, just kinda bulky and awkward to walk with. As he made his way home, he remembered when he first started working his first job right out of college and felt like he needed to have a suitcase, so he had bought this nice brown leather one. However, even though he worked with many customers, he soon learned that pretty much everything, including any important contracts or invoices, was uploaded to the company's cloud servers, and within a few months, had stopped bothering with suitcase. That had been a few years ago, and it felt strange to be carrying a suitcase again.
After about twenty minutes, he saw his apartment complex towering over him, blocking the sun as he came to them from the east. They were relatively new, so it didn't look as rundown as many of the other complexes in this part of the city, and he had gotten a pretty nice lease for his place. It wasn't big or fancy, but it was enough for a bachelor like him. He passed through the iron gates of the complex entrance, and soon was making his way up the stairs to his second floor apartment. However, when he got to the door, he remembered that he had locked it, and that his keys were in his left-hand pants pocket. This required him to twist his body around so that his right hand could get into this pocket. It took more than a few frustrating seconds, but eventually he got them out. He then had to put them in his teeth so he could sort out which one was the right key for the door. When he finally worked that out, he was just about to put the key in when he heard someone shouting at him.
"Stop right there!" said an authoritative woman's voice.
Turning to look, Michael saw a woman coming around the corner from the other side of the apartment building. She was a little shorter than him, maybe in her early 20s, and had blonde hair with orange tips that fell to her shoulders. She wore a leather jacket, jeans, and steel-toed boots. She was also pointing a handgun straight at him.
He did as she commanded and froze right there on the spot. He tried to control his breathing as he watched the woman walk briskly up to him. Her eyes seemed to glare right at him, making them seem as menacing as the gun to him.
He also noticed that someone had followed her around the corner, a man who looked a little older than both of them. He was tall, but rather thin, with a very rectangular face. He was wearing a blue windbreaker, a white button-up shirt, navy blue running pants, and a pair of sneakers. His hair was blonde as well, but it was very short and a little messy. He was also a little out of breath, as if he was trying to catch up to the woman, who was now within ten feet of Michael.
"Let go of the case," she ordered, the gun still on target.
Michael grimaced, raising his hands in surrender. "I wish I could-" he started, but she cut him off.
"Drop it!" she yelled.
"-but it's been glued to my hand," Michael finished, gritting his teeth to maintain his nerves. He then made a gesture of shaking his left hand, showing that it was was quite attached to the handle.
She gave him an exasperated look, but eventually lowered the gun. "Are you serious?" she asked, mostly rhetorically. Michael gave her a nervous, pitiful smile. Seeing this, the woman put the handgun in a holster she had beneath her coat, and then raised a hand to wordlessly ask if she could take a look. Michael turned his arm toward her to present the glued hand, and she looked it over.
By this point, the other man had caught up to them. "How did you get the case?" he asked, his voice still pretty clear despite the running he had been doing.
"Some guy came up and asked if I could hold while he tied his shoe while I was on the Subway," Michael reported. "The car lurched, and he disappeared on me."
The man didn't respond right away, but pulled out a smartphone and, after tapping on it a few times, turned to show a picture on it. "Did he look like this?"
The photo showed the same man that Michael had seen on the subway. However, he wasn't smiling, but had a focused look on his face. He was also wearing a gray hoodie, with the hood up, but enough of his scraggly hair was spilling out.
Michael nodded. "Yeah, that looks like him. Is he some kind criminal?"
"You don't need to worry it," the tall man said, somewhat tersely. Michael just shrugged in response.
The tall man put his cellphone away, then turned to the women. "What's the deal?" he asked her.
"Like he said," she sighed. "Superglued." She scratched her head a little with her hand.
"I've got some solvent in my apartment. I'm certain I can get it this off pretty quickly and you can have the thing," Michael suggested. He lightly jiggled his keys in his raised right hand as an addendum. The other two looked at each other, make a few facial gestures as a form of silent communication, then turned back to Michael.
"Alright, but we're going to have to come in with you," the tall man stated.
"That's fine," Michael answered. He then turned back to his front door and unlocked it, hoping to be over with this bizarre episode. He was looking forward to relaxing on his couch and maybe watching a fun movie. That would be a good way to destress from this past hour.
However, when he opened the door and looked inside, he saw another man in there already, sitting on the arm of his couch, facing the door. He was of Asian descent (though Michael couldn't tell from which part), and wore a black trenchcoat over a very nice black suit. His dark hair wasn't long, but his bangs covered his eyes a little bit.
"Who are you?" Michael asked, suspicious of more trouble.
However, the other man noticed the briefcase in Michael's hand. "Huh, Trevor was right," he muttered in perfectly fluent English.
The two behind Michael quickly filled the hallway to his living room. The woman pulled out the handgun again, pointing it at the new stranger, while still standing behind Michael. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.
"Are you using my body as a shield?!" Michael asked, incredulous. He also saw that the tall man, standing the back, had pulled out a gun as well, and was pointing it over his partner's head. It looked like the same style as the woman's.
"Just hand over the case, and there won't be any problems," the stranger in black explained, standing up from his sitting position. However, he raised his hands up by his head, matching with his non-combative tone.
The woman's eyes narrowed into a glare. "What do you want to do with it?" she asked grimly.
"Nothing, really. I just know a lot of other people want it, and they will pay me well for it," the stranger responded with a shrug.
"Don't you know what this thing is capable of?" she asked, her voice raising in intensity.
Another shrug. "I don't really care."
"What is this thing capable of?" Michael interjected, growing more nervous. He only got a "Shut up!" in return from the woman.
However, that was enough of a gap for the stranger to act. In one swift motion, the stranger flipped a throwing knife from each sleeve of his coat and threw them at the trio in the hall. Michael yelled in shock, ducking his head and holding up the case as a kind of shield. One of the knives dinged harmlessly off the briefcase, while the other was deftly caught by the tall man.
The woman immediately fired her gun in response, but the stranger dashed aside in time, disappearing further into Michael's apartment. The woman swore under her breath and followed after him, turning to the left. Michael heard them struggle around a door, which he deduced was the one to his bedroom.
"Stay here," the tall man ordered Michael as he walked past him to support his partner.
"Can I at least go get my solvent so I can let go of this thing?" Michael asked. He used his free right hand to point its thumb to the right, referencing the kitchen.
The tall man saw this, then turned to take a look around the apartment to get an idea of how it was laid out. Then he grimaced in indecision for a moment before saying, "Alright, just don't get in the way." Then he stepped toward the two fighting around the corner.
Michael slowly crept to the end of the hall, hearing a few gun shots and a lot of struggling. He peeked his head around the corner to see that the stranger was using the door to trap the woman's arm holding the handgun, and she was trying to push back against it. The tall man was trying to peek around the cracks near the hinges to see if he could attack from a different angle.
The apartment was on the smaller side, so the kitchen wasn't properly separated from the living room. While the kitchen did have a fake-tile floor as opposed to the living room's dark brown carpet, the only thing separating the two rooms was the kitchen counter. However, Michael decided he could duck behind there and dig into his junk drawer for the solvent he knew was there.
He tried to move carefully, but the other three were really too distracted to notice him. Sitting himself down on the kitchen floor, he pulled the junk drawer from of its runners and out of its cabinet, letting it clang on the floor, and then began rifling around to find the bottle he wanted. He didn't remember owning this many rubber bands before.
"Grenade!" someone suddenly shouted (maybe the tall man?), and sure enough, a round grenade flew over the counter, bounced off of the fridge, and landed at Michael's feet. He froze in panic, seeing the thing, but quickly pulled himself together to get away. Unfortunately, his second step was in the junk drawer, causing him to slip. He crashed head first into the sliding doors that opened to a closet that stored his washer and drier. Fortunately, his momentum caused the drawer to be pushed backward, which pushed the grenade under the lip of the cabinet beneath the sink.
Michael was dazed at first, turning himself around to sit on his butt, only to see the grenade go off, exploding the contents of his junk drawer around the kitchen. Michael tried to curl up into a ball, placing the metal case in front him. He felt many small things bounce off of both him and the case, but none of them caused any pain. However, when he looked up again, he saw that it had messed up his kitchen sink pretty badly, with the pipes spraying water all over the place.
"You okay?" the tall man asked over his shoulder. He was trying to hide in the bathroom that was next to the bedroom, as the stranger had since pulled out a katana and used it to slice the bedroom door in half. The woman was taking cover near Michael's big screen TV.
"I guess so," Michael weakly reported. He was still breathing pretty hard. After a moment, he collected himself and tried to look through the debris to see if he could find that can of solvent. However, between the rubber bands and fractured pieces of wood, the can was nowhere to be seen.
When someone in the fight grunted, he turned to see that the stranger had expertly kicked the woman, causing her to collide with the living room side of the kitchen counter. She cringed in pain, the wind knocked out of her.
Michael then looked up to see that the tall man no longer had his gun, but instead was wielding a can of scented air spray that he had grabbed from Michael's bathroom. The stranger swung his sword, but the tall man parried it with the spray can. The stranger then tried an overhead strike, the sharpness of the sword easily cutting right through the ceiling and towards the tall man's head. However, the defender blocked the strike with his spray can. When the sword then cut into it, the stranger was immediately sprayed in the face, causing him to recoil. The tall man then took the opportunity to punch the stranger in the chin, the momentum sending him stumbled back towards the remains of the bedroom door. The tall man took that moment to run and check on his partner, who was coughing and wheezing.
"We shouldn't stay here," the tall man advised.
"Give me a minute," the woman struggled to say, her voice weak. Michael came around to the other side of her to check on her.
"I don't think we have the time," the tall man said, turning to look back at the stranger, who was back on his feet and certainly looking quite upset.
"This is far more trouble than I was expecting," he muttered. Then he pulled two more grenades from somewhere in his trenchcoat, and pulled the pins with his teeth.
The tall man looked around again, and saw the glass doors on the opposite side of the entrance to the living room. It opened to a small, concrete balcony with a simple metal fence as a railing. He then got Michael's attention and gestured toward those glass doors with his chin.
"Time to go," he said, and Michael nodded. The tall man helped the woman get to their feet, and they all made their way toward the glass doors. Michael tried to open one with his spare hand, but was startled when the tall man just kicked them out. They clanged against the metal railing, making a kind of ramp. The next moment, he nearly dragged all three of them up on to the metal rail, and they jumped from the second floor. At least there was a patch of low-cut grass below them, but it wasn't the softest landing.
After a moment of cringing on the grass, Michael propped himself up on his free hand. "Was that really necessary?" he yelled at the tall man. Then Michael's attention shifted when he heard a massive explosion. He looked up to see his apartment very much in flames. "Nevermind," he muttered lowly. The tall man just chuckled dryly.
Michael then tried to keep an eye out for the stranger in black, expecting him to come leaping out of the flames, or running from around the corner of the building. However, nothing happened for a few minutes.
"Where is he?" Michael asked, squinting his eyes as if that would help.
"He's probably long gone," the tall man answered. He was was sitting up now, hanging his head between his knees and trying to catch his breath.
"Wouldn't he come after the case?"
The tall man coughed to clear his throat. "He's the type who prefers to set traps than seek out confrontation. I don't think he was expecting the two of us to be with you, so things didn't go as he planned."
"You know him?" Michael asked, raising his eyebrows at the tall man.
"Well-" the other man started, but then the woman smacked him in the shoulder with the back of her hand.
"Don't tell him a damn thing," she muttered angrily, her eyes still closed. Her voice sounded a little bit stronger than before, though.
The tall man chuckled. "At this point, there probably isn't a choice. It seems he's pretty far in over his head, and leaving him ignorant will only make him worse." The woman growled in response, but said nothing.
Michael just shook his head and shrugged at the same time. "Okay, so what do we do from here?" he asked.
"We've got a van parked outside your apartment complex. Let's at least go there and get her some first aid. Then, maybe we can find a hardware store and get you some solvent."
Michael sighed, then slowly got to his feet. "Alright, then," he said, mostly to himself. He and the tall man got the woman to her feet again, putting her arms over their shoulders, and they started making their way across the grass to the gate entrance of the apartment complex.
"So, are you guys CIA or something?" Michael asked as they walked.
"Something like that," the tall man said. "My name is Draco, and my partner here is Sarah."
"I'd say 'it's nice to meet you,' but I don't think it would be very sincere," Michael said dryly. This make Draco laugh, and even Sarah chuckled a little.
They continued through the gate, walking down the sidewalk outside of the complex's fence. Then Michael started hearing sirens, and a fire truck turned the corner onto their street. It rushed past them on the empty road, and Michael turned his head his head to see it go through the gate into the complex's parking lot.
"Should we be worried about that?" Michael asked.
Draco briefly grimaced in thought. "I don't think so. They'll probably be more concerned about putting out the fire and saving the others in the building than coming after us."
"What about the police?"
"They would be more problematic, but not much really. We do have some authority over them."
"So you're at least with the government, then," Michael concluded. At this, Sarah weakly smacked Draco again, but he just chuckled in response.
They turned a corner down a different street with a few fast food chains on the other side. There, Michael saw a large white van parked next to the sidewalk on their side.
"Is that it?" he asked.
"Yeah," Draco confirmed.
They made their way around to the back of the van, and Draco used his spare hand to open the back doors. Inside, Michael saw a lot of gear, mostly stored in duffel bags, but he did spy a few rifles and laptops. However, there was a pretty large open spot on the floor of the van, and they laid Sarah there. Draco told Michael to stay outside of the van while he climbed in. Michael saw him pull out a first-aid kit from out of somewhere and open it.
"I'll probably be fine. Just give me some painkiller," Sarah said, still breathing hard. However, Michael could tell she was speaking through the pain.
"He broke at least two of your fingers, and maybe a rib," Draco retorted, but then put a bottle of pills in her hand. She took off the lid and immediately put it to her mouth, swallowing quite a few.
"Uh, that seems excessive," Michael noted.
Sarah raised her head just enough to look at Michael. "I'm sorry, are you a doctor?" she asked sarcastically. When Michael looked aside in shame and said nothing, she followed up with, "Then shut up," and placed her head back on the floor of the van.
"Hey, c'mon," Draco lightly scolded. "He's been through a lot. This is probably the worst day he's ever had in his life."
Michael shrugged. "Not really. I've had worse." At this, Draco turned to look at Michael with concern. "It's not that important," Michael added, dismissing it. Draco just nodded his head in casual confirmation.
Draco wrapped up Sarah's fingers, and after checking over the rest of her body, he told Michael to go ahead and get into the van's passenger seat. Michael did as he was told, then realized the seat was a bit too far forward, probably for Sarah's shorter height. Fortunately, the buttons to fix that were on the right side. As he adjusted the seat, he heard Draco close the back doors and come up into the driver's seat.
"I suppose the closest hardware store would be back over on 1500," Draco thought out loud. Michael nodded in response. He placed the briefcase on his lap and then looked around at the van's dashboard, but found it to be pretty plain. There was a good amount of dust on top of it, though. Continuing to look around, he only saw a handful of old candy wrappers and forgotten napkins near his feet.
"Not a whole lot of bells and whistle's," Michael noted, gesturing to the van.
"The cost of being inconspicuous. No need to be fancy," Draco explained, as he pulled the van's keys out of his pocket.
"Just don't touch the radio," Michael heard Sarah wheeze from behind the seats.
"Hey, I can abide by that. I follow the rule that the driver gets to pick the station," Michael responded.
Draco laughed. "I like this guy!" he said, putting a key in the ignition and starting the van. Draco flipped it in a U-turn and started heading east. Now that most of the evening rush was done, there wasn't too much traffic to deal with. Draco kept his eyes about him as he drove, but his demeanor remained quite casual.
"What's your story?" he asked Michael.
"What, you don't have a full database entry on me by now?" Michael asked sarcastically.
"Oh, I'm sure I'll have to look it up when I write my full report. However, we had no idea the case would be in your hands. We have a tracker, but it follows the case, not the person." Draco pulled out his smartphone to indicate how they had been doing that.
"Makes sense," Michael said.
"And besides, we got a few minutes. You can give me the cliff notes version."
"I take it your the type who doesn't like silence."
"He doesn't," Sarah said, chuckling as much as she could. Draco's face took on a kind of sardonic grin.
"Well, there isn't much to say, really," Michael said, sighing. He shifted his eyes to the passing scenery as he talked. "I grew up here, went to high school, played on the soccer team, which got me a scholarship. I went into business, as I had a few friends there, and have been working in sales for various software companies. I'm currently with Castle Business Solutions, selling inventory software. Been there for about a year and a half now, I guess."
Draco just nodded, focused on turning the van down a different street. This one was wider, as it was quite the thoroughfare. Michael noticed plenty of businesses and strip malls as they drove on.
"I don't suppose there's much you can tell me about yourselves, is there?" Michael asked. He grinned in a cheeky manner at Draco. Draco smirked in response then shrugged.
"I grew up obsessed with mysteries, riddles, and cyphers, and proved to be quite good with them. I can do the New York Times Sunday Crossword in two or three minutes, on average. So naturally I'd be picked up by some organization interested in those skills. I generally do the detective stuff, so I often get paired up with someone more physical and action-oriented."
At this, Michael gave a curious glance towards Sarah, but the seat made it hard to see her face if she made one.
Draco noticed, though. "Karate," he explained. "She's a black belt, and certainly knows a few things of Judo as well. And she doesn't like questions being asked about her. I learned that one the hard way." He laughed awkwardly.
"Yer damn right!" Sarah added. She smacked the back of Draco's seat with her hand.
"Noted," Michael said in acknowledgement, and he turned his head back towards the front of the van.
They made their way to 1500, but had to stop at a red light. However, once it turned green, and Draco moved the van into the intersection, they were suddenly hit on the left side by another vehicle. Michael never saw what it was, as the van was sent sideways into another car on the right, a small green sedan. Draco tried to control the van as best as he could, bringing it to a stop just after it jumped a curb at the corner of the intersection.
Michael was about to ask what happened, when he suddenly saw a katana cut through the hinges of the passenger door. The stranger in black then appeared, ripping the door away from the van.
"You're coming with me now," he ordered, his voice a little more aggressive than before. Before Michael could protest or Draco could react, the stranger has pulled Michael, case and all, out of the van and started running down the sidewalk, nearly dragging Michael along by his right arm. Michael looked back to see that Draco had pulled out his handgun, but grimaced and decided to put to put it down, then turned to check on Sarah.
He didn't have long to look, though, as the stranger yanked him in another direction. Michael soon found himself being pulled through a large parking lot for a few different clothing stores. He recognized one of them as a place where he had bought the suit he was currently wearing. However, the stranger dragged him around that store and towards the back, and he realized that he had no idea of where he was being lead to.
Michael considered trying to break free of his grasp, but then remembered that he single-handedly took on both Draco and Sarah, and figured his chances would be quite worse. He had no idea what other tricks this stranger might have up his sleeves. He then remembered that the briefcase is being tracked, so he doubted he'd be abandoned.
Behind the clothing stores were a few empty lots, with plenty of wild wheat growing haphazardly across it. He also could see grasshoppers skipping away from them as they charged across the dirt and weeds.
After reaching end of the large field, the stranger led them down a different part of town, one that Michael knew little, if anything, about. The buildings were old, generally made of red brick, with flat tops on the roofs. He wasn't sure if they were businesses or apartments, but they certainly had plenty of little alleys to duck into. However, the stranger seemed to know his way through them all, turning left and right with such suddenness that Michael started to lose his sense of direction. At one point, the stranger kicked in a door, guided both of them through a few very empty rooms (one of which even the electric wires weren't properly placed in the walls yet), before jumping back outside into another alley.
Eventually, they made their way to an outdoor cement staircase that took them down to another section of red brick buildings. After another few shifts in direction, the stranger found another door to kick in. He pulled Michael inside, then shut the door behind them. Michael stumbled inside, then fell to his hand and knees.
"Catch your breath," the stranger ordered, and began stalking the room. After a glance around, he then moved to the small windows at the top of one wall, which were the only light source the room had, as it was halfway in the ground.
Michael just nodded and turned to sit on the cement ground, breathing hard. He tried to remember the last time he ever ran that hard. While his high school soccer training ensured he wasn't completely out of shape, he could feel his lungs burning for air. He figured if he ever survived this, he'd try and do some more running again.
After a few minutes of catching his breath, he looked up to see that the stranger was glowering down at him, despite being on the other side of the room.
"You're not going to kill me, are you?" Michael asked, taking in breaths between pairs of words.
"Not if I have to," the stranger responded tersely. He then turned back to the windows.
Michael sighed heavily in response, and decided to lay back, feeling at least a little relieved. He could feel his legs aching from suddenly having to use muscles that have been used that way in quite some time. As he lay there, regaining control of his breathing, Michael tried to take stock of his new situation. He remembered that the stranger said he was only interested in selling the case to a potential buyer, which meant that the he was probably telling the truth about not killing him. After stretching a little, Michael felt a better and sat back up to see his kidnapper looking out the windows again.
"I don't suppose you have any solvent so that I can get this stupid thing out of my hand," he asked, lifting the briefcase to indicate what he was talking about. The stranger just glared at him for a moment before turning back toward the windows.
After another moment of silence, Michael tried to break the ice again. "My name is Michael. I don't suppose you could give me yours?"
The stranger turned to look out a different window, but after a beat, said "Rock."
"'Rock'?" Michael checked.
"It's what my name means in Korean," Rock explained. Michael nodded his head in acknowledgement.
"Well, Rock. What happens next?" Michael crossed his legs, setting the case in front of them so he could lean on it a little.
"Now that you've caught your breath, we won't be staying here very long," Rock answered. He then turned back toward the door the came in, opened it to check around, then closed it, pulling himself back into room.
Michael then took a moment to look around. It seemed to be like an unfinished basement. There were a few electrical outlets, and a very old yellow couch on the wall to his left. Looking up, he saw that there may have been a staircase to the upper floor once before, but it had clearly been dismantled, and the hole in the ceiling filled in with drywall. He wondered why someone would choose to do that, making this a basement room with only one door in or out. Looking down, he did find a drain, and a few ants, but otherwise, the room was barren. Michael wondered how Rock knew about this place, but decided it probably wouldn't be worth asking.
"C'mon," Rock ordered, gesturing with a hand for Michael to stand up, which he did. They made their way back to the door, and Rock poked his head out again to see if the coast was clear.
"Where we going this time?" Michael asked.
"Where I say! Now move!" Rock ordered. He dragged Michael out through the door, and they were off running again.
***
Draco was internally kicking himself for not noticing the grey pick-up truck before it hit the van's broadside. He did catch a glimpse of the stranger in black as he leapt out of the truck before the impact, around the other cars and to the other side of the van. The crash dazed Draco's senses a little, but his training took over and he recovered pretty quickly. He pulled out his gun just in time to see the stranger drag Michael away, but he couldn't get a good shot at his current angle, and decided to leave it be. He was certain the stranger wouldn't hurt him, at least not right away.
He turned around in his seat to check on Sarah. She had slid to the side a little, some of their equipment had fallen on her.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"I'm pissed!" she yelled, grabbing one of the duffel bags on her and angrily throwing it aside, causing it to slam in the other side of the van. Draco grimaced, as he was certain that one had some highly sensitive equipment. He then watched her gingerly get up to her hands and knees, gritting her teeth in the effort.
"You're fine then," Draco lightly concluded. He then turned back to the front of the van.
"Can we keep going?" she asked. She waved a hand at the dashboard to indicate she was talking about the van as she climbed into the passenger seat.
"I think so. Let me check the engine," he said, then tried to open the van door, only to discover that the crash had warped the door enough that it was stuck. Draco tried to force it a few times, and finally got it open on the third try. Stepping out, he walked around the door to check the left side of the van for damage. Despite the crash being strong enough to send them across the intersection, the van had withstood the truck pretty well, with only a decent-sized dent as evidence it happened at all. He then walked further around and popped the hood of the van, but didn't see any problems there. While he was also there, he turned his head to see if he could catch a glimpse of Michael and his kidnapper. Not seeing them on the street anymore, he wondered if they skipped into the parking lot to the southeast.
Closing the hood, he then noticed that the grey truck that had hit them was simply sitting there in the middle of the intersection. He took a moment to quickly step over and take a look inside. However, he saw several dozen empty coffee cups, a few maps, and plenty of empty fast food paper bags. He concluded that the vehicle was likely stolen and probably wouldn't have any useful clues.
When he made his way back into the van, he saw that Sarah was putting her hands around her ribs. He gave her a concerned look, but she just defensively glared at him in return.
"Anything good in the truck?" she asked in an effort to change the topic.
"Nope," he reported. "That guy probably just found it and jumpstarted it on the fly to hit us." He checked to see that the van key was still in the ignition, then he turned the engine again, happy to hear roar into life. Then he pulled out his smartphone and tossed it into Sarah's lap. She looked back at Draco.
"Did you want me to navigate again?" she said, picking it up.
"Yeah, but I think you should also call Ryan. I think we need to escalate this situation to Level 3. If there are a bunch of criminals and opportunists looking for this case, we're going to need some back up," he said. He pulled the van off the curb and turned it to follow the road east. He did his best to be more aware than before, but he stole the occasional glance at his partner, who was still breathing pretty heavily.
Sarah had scoffed out loud at Draco's idea, not because it was bad, but because it didn't sit well with her that the two of them couldn't bring this in on her own. However, she knew that he was right. She unlocked the phone's screen and began tapping to make a phone call.
"What on earth was Trevor thinking?" she lowly mused out loud.
Draco just shook his head. "The man is a sociopath. Who knows that goes on in that messed up head of his?"
***
Rock had taken Michael on another dizzying tour of the brick buildings, before guiding him into a warehouse and down another staircase to an underground hallway with poor lighting. Some of the overhead fluorescent lights crackled and buzzed above him, but most of them were lit. The hallway was small, maybe ten feet wide, and didn't seem to have any doors or windows to the side, making Michael feel a little claustrophobic. He also noticed that the air was getting a little more humid as they traveled, and he wondered if they were getting closer to the large lake that the city lay next to.
However, his thoughts were interrupted when Rock suddenly stopped in his tracks. Michael nearly ran into him, and had to throw his hands out beside him to regain his balance. Then he looked over Rock's shoulder to see what the hold up was. At the end of the hall was another set of double-doors, with small windows in each one. They looked just like many of the doors they had already passed through in the last few minutes, but then he noticed that the windows had a figure looking back at them.
The doors then opened and revealed a man that filled the small hallway. He was bald, with a strong chin and high cheekbones, and a stern look punctuated by fiercely blue eyes. He wore a pinstripe shirt, brown slacks held up by brown suspenders, and brown dress shoes. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up quite high, showing a pair of muscular arms.
"Ah," Rock voiced in recognition. "Dmitri. I take it this means Katya is interested, then." Hearing even more strange names, Michael was starting to wonder just how much in over his head he was.
"She wants the case," Dmitri answered in a low but clear voice, his Eastern European accent adding an extra layer of menace.
"Well, I'm sure if you lead us to her, we can negotiate a good price," Rock stated, smiling a little. Michael felt there was something rather quite playful in that smile; playful with a strong sense of being excited by danger. It gave Michael goosebumps to think that his life was in this stranger's hands.
However, Dmitri shook his head. "Katya say to kill you and take the case," he said. Rock's smile froze. Michael grimaced as well.
"I don't suppose she has any plans for me," Michael cautiously ventured.
"Katya says to kill anyone in my way. Hand over the case!" Dimitri ordered.
"Well, there's a problem with that," Michael answered. From behind Rock, Michael showed the case in his left hand, shaking it a little. "I've been glued to it."
Dmitri looked at the case, considering the issue. Then he flatly stated, "Kill you, rip off arm, take the case."
"I think I'll stick with you, for the time being," Michael sardonically told Rock.
"I'm not taking on that thing," Rock said flatly, referring to Dmitri. Michael noticed a single drop of sweat dropping down the back of his neck and into his black trenchcoat, which made him realize how much he was sweating as well, and not just from all the running.
Dmitiri then put his hands in his pockets just long enough to pull out a set of brass knuckles on each hand, and he started advancing down the hallway toward them. "Hand it over!" he ordered again.
"Running might be a good idea," Michael suggested with a frightened but musical lilt.
"It might be," Rock said, his voice monotone. However, Michael noticed that Rock was jostling his right arm a little. "Cover your nose and mouth when I move," he said. Michael nodded, then carefully took in a deep breath.
When Dmitiri wasn't more than five feet away, Rock suddenly thrust his right arm to his side, and another grenade appeared in his hand from his sleeve. This made Dmitri hesitate, mostly to check what he was doing. This gave Rock another instance to throw the thing at the ground, causing a massive cloud to burst out of it. This made Dmitiri recoil away, allowing Rock to run past him. Michael tried to follow, covering his face with his right hand.
He got to the double doors, but the smoke was following after them, making it hard to see what was ahead. On the other side of the doors, he discovered the hallway was actually a four-way intersection. He looked left, right, and then ahead, but didn't see Rock in any of the three available directions.
"Rock!" Michael tried shouting around his hand.
"Up here!" he heard a whisper say to him. He looked up and saw that Rock had jumped up into some kind of ventilation shaft above the hallway.
Michael gave him a frustrated look, but then tried to jump himself up there. He could grab the edge with his right hand, but getting his left hand up there was too cumbersome. He tried again, but the second time was worse.
"There's no way I'm getting up there with this thing!" Michael protested, shaking the briefcase for Rock to see. He then coughed, as the smoke was starting to seep into this side of the double doors. He heard Rock curse under his breath, but when he could look up gain, Rock was gone. "Rock?" he asked after him, but he got no response.
Feeling on his own, Michael quickly turned to one of the small windows in the double doors to see if Dmitri was coming. The smoke was pretty thick, but it looked like the big man was still recovering from the smoke attack. Michael then looked down each of the hallways again, but they all looked the same: dismal, grungy, and poorly lit. He just shook his head, and then decided to head down the hallway opposite the doors.
Passing a few empty boxes, he kept running, feeling his lungs start burning again. He was certain he hadn't ran for this long in a single day since his high school soccer team training, and at least then, he was doing it with his teammates, making the struggle more bearable. He couldn't help but wonder if all this effort was going to be worth it, as it seemed pretty clear that his life was at stake, regardless of his relationship with the brief case. While he tried to see ahead in the dim lighting to determine where he was going and if there were any turns ahead, the hallway remained straight, with very little variation. There weren't even any signs on the walls to let him know what kind of building he was in.
However, after several moments, he slowed down to a jog. He dared to look over his shoulder, but the receding hallway was just as empty (and dreary) as it was ahead of him. He wondered if Rock was still following him somehow, either through the ventilation or by knowing these hallways better than him. He also wondered about Dmitri, though he figured a big guy like him might not catch up right away.
Eventually, he saw a pair of double-doors on his left. He thought about taking them, but he was afraid taking the first doors he saw would be too obvious. However, as he passed them, he noticed something about them, which brought his jogging to a halt. He turned around, resting his free hand on a knee, and double-checking to see if he really did see some sunlight creeping in from the edges of the doors. Sure enough, what remained of the setting sun was filtering in under the doors and around the cracks near their hinges.
Deciding that being outside was likely better than this maze of hallways, Michael check the door's press-in handles, and discovered them to be unlocked. He pushed them harder, and soon felt fresh air on his face, cooling his sweat considerably. His shoes stepped on some clean concrete, and he saw that the doors were built into the side of a slope, with a set of cement stairs going down that slope, which featured just a single metal rail going down the middle of them.
He also saw the seaweed-haired man standing next to the rail on the top step, as if he was waiting for him. He was still wearing the trenchcoat and simple clothes.
"You!" Michael growled, still breathing hard.
"Yes, me," the man said casually, smiling widely, as if it was the most natural thing to do. He waved his hand in a bizarre gesture of casual theatricality, like he was playing a role in a film, but was only half-hearted about it.
"Why did you do this to me?" Michael demanded. He shook the briefcase that was still glued to his hand in front of him.
The man shrugged. "There are a number of reasons, though most of them are for my own amusement." He smiled another smile that he probably thought was endearing, but Michael only found annoying. He thought about going back into the hallway, but when he turned back, he saw the doors didn't have any handles on the outside. Apparently they were "exit only" doors, and he had failed to notice.
Turning back to the other man, Michael saw him pull a bottle from out of a trenchcoat pocket. "What's that," he asked him.
"Solvent," the man responded. When Michael glared at him, the man added, "No joke," with a smile.
"Oh, and you'll just let me go? Just like that?" Michael asked sarcastically.
"Well, I will admit that things got more complicated than I was expecting, so I do apologize for all the trouble, but my own circumstances are different than when we were on the subway train together. I'm more than ready to take the case back now." His explanation was also casual, without being condescending. He gave off this air of having completed a complex plan that seemed to satisfy him.
"What's the deal with this case? What's in it?" Michael asked, still suspicious.
"Oh, they didn't tell you?" the man said, lightly shocked, but then he chuckled. "I suppose that makes sense. That's their style, after all. Can't let the poor innocent civilians get caught up in our messes." He said that last line with a highly mocking tone, which gave Michael the sense that the man didn't care about civilian causalities or any other kind of collateral damage.
However, Michael stood his ground and said nothing. After a moment, the other man realized that Michael was actually expecting an answer. He sighed before speaking.
"I admit I don't know the full details, but supposedly it contains something called The Elimination Virus. Fascinating name, right? Who knows what it's capable of?" After saying this, he chuckled again, as if anticipating an exciting twist in a game.
At first, Michael wasn't sure if he should believe him. However, as he looked down at the case i his hand, and reflected for a moment of everything that had happened to him so far, he couldn't deny that a powerful weapon of some kind made a lot of sense.
"Is it a biological weapon?" he asked, fearing the case all the more.
The other man laughed. "I don't know!" he stated confidently. "Biological, computer, maybe it's something else entirely! All I know is that it was kept under very strict guard, so I knew I had to have it."
Michael grit his teeth and glared back at the other man. "Who are you?" he asked.
The seaweed-haired man raised his eyebrows, eager to introduce himself. "Trevor. Trevor Winter at your service," and he gave a theatrical, yet half-hearted, bow.
Michael gave a frustrated sigh, his eyes darting back and forth as he tried to consider his options. He saw that Trevor was still holding the solvent, making him wonder if he really could be let off the hook just like that. However, as he recalled Dmitri's words, he figured he was in too deep now, and that his life was in danger whether he had the case or not. Being a fan of action movies, he wondered if he wasn't in one himself, and he began to fear that he was going to become a loose end for someone else to tie up, one way or another, and this made his anxiety rise considerably.
However, as he was debating his options, he saw something else, and that helped him make his decision.
"So what do you say? Shall I help you out?" Trevor asked with a mock congeniality. He raised the bottle of solvent out to show his good faith, and even closed his eyes as part of his wide smile.
Instead of responding, Michael charged at him. He swung the case at Trevor's head like a hammer blow, but Trevor, noticing in time, dodged easily.
"That's pretty rude-" he started to say, but Michael didn't stick around to listen, and began running, first past Trevor, and then down the stairs with the single metal rail. He remembered having to rapidly go up and down stairs for soccer training and did his best to remember how to keep his feet under him.
"Hey!" Trevor shouted. He dropped the bottle of solvent and began searching around in his trenchcoat pockets. He also tried to follow Michael down the stairs, but when his hand got stuck on something in one of his pockets, he lost concentration and stumbled, his feet slipping him down a few of the concrete steps.
When he could right himself, he saw Michael had reached the bottom of the steps, where they intersected with a sidewalk that ran along side a road. Coming down that road from the left was a familiar white van, which stopped right in front of Michael, who instantly grabbed the passenger door handle and pulled it open. Trevor felt the energy of the moment drain out of him as he saw Michael jump in, and the van drive off in urgency.
"Oh fiddlesticks," muttered Trevor. "I was hoping they would be more incapacitated than that."
***
As Michael caught his breath and set the briefcase in his lap, he was happy to see Draco and Sarah again. They smiled briefly at him, but then turned their attention back to the road. It took a while for Michael to settle down, his heart beating harder than ever before. Once he did, he finally found the strength to ask some questions.
"How did you know I was going to be there?" he asked.
Draco held up his smartphone. "We have a tracker on the case, remember?" he said.
"Yeah, but I just went through a maze of buildings and hallways. I could have ended up anywhere! You can't tell me you knew I would be right there when you drove up."
Draco laughed. "What? Don't you think we have psychic powers to know everything about you?" he asked cheekily. Michael just glared at him in response, so Draco continued, this time with the truth. "We reached out for some support and they were able to give us more of an overhead view of where you were going. When you get the big computers involved, they can reduce the probabilities down quite well. If you didn't pop out there, you probably would have come out on the south side of the building instead. If not, we would have stopped the van and come in for you."
Michael just shook his head in disbelief. "I really am in some kind of action thriller movie," he muttered. This made Draco smirk as he turned the van down another corner. He kept his eyes around him this time, making sure to prevent any future surprises.
Sarah was in the back again, though upright and not in as much pain. "What happened to you after that assassin grabbed you and took off?" she asked, and Michael filled them both in with all that had happened since he had last saw them.
"Good grief. Katya is involved?" Sarah moaned, and she hung her head in exhaustion. "This is getting stupid."
"Yeah, this is definitely going above our pay grade. I think we should just go straight back to HQ now," Draco added.
"With him?" Sarah asked, pointing a thumb at Michael. "You know the director isn't going to like it."
"He isn't going to like a lot of things about this. Especially now that we know what's in it," Draco answered.
"You didn't know before?" Michael asked, stunned. Draco grimaced, and Sarah smacked him in the shoulder for his slip up.
"We were just told that it contained a highly classified item that could become a problem in the wrong hands," Draco explained. "Now that we have a better idea of what's going on, a case of the Elimination Virus out in the open is going to draw all kinds of bad attention. We're going to need all the help we can gather."
"What is the Elimination Virus?" Michael then asked.
Draco chuckled dryly. "That is most definitely above our pay grade. We just know it's bad and needs to be secured," he said, then added, "Again."
"There's more than one of these?"
"Above our pay grade," Draco responded, shaking his head. "Even one is enough, though."
Michael just scoffed, covering his face with his free hand in exhausted disbelief.
"Oh, by the way, we picked up a present for you," Sarah suddenly said. She disappeared behind the seats for a moment before reappearing with a plastic shopping bag. Michael reached around to grab it with his right hand, then peeked inside. It contained a can of solvent. At this Michael just laughed, but it was a relieving laugh that seemed to drain a lot of his stress. He set the bag on the briefcase and pulled the can out.
"You know, Trevor tried to offer me some solvent when he stopped me at the top of those stairs," he stated. It was an extra detail he hadn't mentioned before.
"Well, it's probably easier to remove the superglue with someone compliant. He probably would have killed you once he had the case," Draco noted.
"Yeah, I figured," Michael said, nodding. He removed the plastic tip that sealed the can and began spraying his left hand that was still holding the handle of the brief case. All three scrunched their noses at the smell that quickly filled the van. Draco quickly turned on some fans and rolled down the windows to help blow the smell out.
However, just as Michael was beginning to feel his hand loosen, they all heard a loud thump on the top of the van.
"What now?" Draco grumbled, and he tried to glance out the window to see what had fallen on the roof. However, when a katana blade pierced the van's ceiling, it left little room for doubt as to who it was.
With a few brisk slices, the section of van roof over Michael's head was removed, sent flying behind them as the van continued down the road. Rock stood easily on the van, glowering down at his new entrance. He then pointed the sword at Michael, the tip of the blade just above his nose. "Hand over the case!" he demand.
In the same time frame, Sarah had reached into one of the duffle bags and pulled out an automatic shotgun. "Eat this!" she yelled and fired it immediately at Rock. Michael yelled, as she had placed the gun near his ear when she pulled the trigger. However, her shot missed as Rock jumped out of the way.
"Get down!" she ordered, and Michael did his best to cower into a corner of his passenger seat, as Sarah climbed up on the center console between the seats to poke her head into the hole in the roof. There, she saw that Rock was clinging to the top of the van. She leveled her shotgun at him and fired again, but he let go of his hold, allowing himself to slide to the van's back doors.
"He's trying to get in through the back," she reported.
"I can't drive and shoot at the same time," Draco stated, pointing to the road ahead of him. His voice was rising in agitation.
Sarah swore under her breath. "Can't you just shake him off?"
"This ain't a sports car!" Draco yelled back. However, he did try to take a turn more harshly, hoping that the sudden shift in momentum might make a difference. When he was able to correct the van on the next road, he asked "Did that work at all?" When the sound of a katana piercing through the back doors came in response, he grit his teeth in frustration.
"Can you come down and shot him?" he asked.
"But then he'll climb back onto the roof! I'm not playing tag here!" she answered.
A second slice pierced the van's back doors.
"What if we gave him a gun?" Sarah asked, indicating to Michael.
"To a civilian? Are you crazy? They'd have my head!" Draco yelled back.
"We gotta do something!"
Draco ground his teeth. "Do you even know how to shoot a gun?" he asked Michael.
"No," Michael quickly responded, quite scared now.
"Even just a pistol?"
Michael just shook his head. Draco then pounded the steering wheel with his fist as he continued to guide the van down the road. He had just turned on to a highway, and was accelerating quite a bit, now.
"What if I drove?" Michael suggested.
"You don't know where we're going!" Draco rebutted.
"Just long enough to get rid of him. I can drive down a highway," Michael explained, waving a hand at the road ahead of them.
Draco just grimaced, then looked up at Sarah, who just shrugged in response.
Just then, another slice of the razor sharp katana sent one of the van's backdoors flying behind them. Fortunately, there weren't any other cars on the road, so it just slide down the road uninterrupted, sending sparks all over the place, before grinding to a stop.
"Sarah! Cover the backdoors!" Draco ordered. Sarah then crouched down, and fired the shotgun over the back of the passenger seat. Rock simply shifted behind the other van door, where few bullets hit that side of the van. Sarah then jumped back down and pulled herself into the back of the van, firing again.
"Grab the wheel!" Draco ordered Michael, and he did so, turning his attention to the road. Draco then turned to stand behind Sarah so that Michael could then shift over to the driver seat. Michael was glad to discover that it was an automatic transmission, and took control of the van without too much trouble. He did feel that the gas pedal was a little unresponsive, though.
Draco then stood on the passenger seat to pull himself up into the hole, pulling out his handgun at the same time. It was just as well, as he saw Rock was trying to climb on top again. Draco fired twice, forcing the assassin back behind the remaining back door. "He's back to you!" Draco yelled down to Sarah.
By this point, she had carefully made her way across the van space to the door, kneeling down on the van's carpet. In a quick motion, she burst around the edge of the van door to fire. However, Rock was expecting her, and he deftly cut the shotgun out of her hands. She recoiled, checking her hands for cuts, but they were fine. However, when she saw that her shotgun was in two pieces as it flew back down the road, she cursed again, and pulled herself back into the van to begin looking through the duffel bags for a new weapon.
However, Rock came quickly behind her, climbing into the van, his sword pointing menacingly in front of him. Then, in a sudden motion, stabbed the sword into the side of the van, cutting through some of the racks there, and began pushing it forward, intent on slicing through Saran and the van at the same time.
Michael saw this in his rearview mirror. "What's going on?" he heard Draco ask from above. Instead of answering, Michael simply shouted "Brake check!" and slammed his foot on the brakes. Immediately, the van lurched, which sent both Rock and Sarah forward. As the sword wasn't resisting the van, Rock's hand accidentally pushed the sword aside as he lost his balance, causing him to fall on Sarah. Sarah was thrown off balance as well, but when she saw that Rock was on top of him, she twisted into action, trying to grapple with the assassin on the van floor.
Draco, unfortunately, just felt his back slam into the side of the roof, which caused some wind to be knocked out of him. He was lucky to barely hang on to his gun. However, he recovered quickly, and ducked his head back inside. He saw that Sarah had Rock in a strangle hold, but Rock wasn't panicking. Instead, he reached inside his sleeves and pulled out another throwing knife. However, when he raised it, Draco shot his hand, causing him to drop the knife. Sarah grunted for extra effort and after another moment, Rock eventually went limp.
"Tie him up," Draco ordered. "He might recover quickly, or even be faking."
"You tie him up. I'm not letting him go," she retorted. She relaxed her grip a little so that Rock could still breathe, but made sure to stay focused in case he moved again.
Draco couldn't argue with her logic, and climbed back down from the passenger seat. "Keep going down this highway. We won't need to turn off for quite a while," he told Michael, who nodded, and began moving the van forward again. Draco then pulled out some zipties and began wrapping them around Rock's feet and hands.
"Is that going to be enough," Michael wondered, glancing at the process through the rearview mirror.
"If we use enough of them," Draco answered, and he handed some of the zipties to Sarah so that she could help.
"Are you taking him with you?"
"Might as well," Draco conceded. "He's been on our lists for a while, now, so it might make our superiors less upset with us if we do."
Once they had wrapped Rock's wrists behind his back and his ankles behind his butt, they used a few more zipties to connect the two groups, effectively hogtie-ing him. Finally, they set him aside, putting a few of their duffel bags on him to ensure he wouldn't accidentally slip out the back of the van, now that there was only one door. Draco then came back into the passenger seat to help guide Michael to their destination.
"What happens now?" Michael asked, after a moment of silence, still driving.
"Well, we report in to our superior and get further instructions, more or less," Draco answered. He pulled out his smartphone and began tapping rapidly.
"What about me?" Michael followed up, lifting a hand to point to himself.
Draco grimaced a little. "Well, normally, we'd just drop you off at home, probably with a guard or two just in case, but that's obviously out the window. I'm sorry it got blown up like that. We obviously weren't expecting Rock at all."
Michael just shrugged dismissively.
"At the very least, we'll keep you safe, as best as we can. Even if you're no longer glued to the case, you've become a lead for folks to try and identify, so you're not out of the woods quite yet," Draco added. He then directed Michael to turn off the highway at an exit that, ironically, led into some woods.
After another turn, the van was trundling along a dirt road, with trees thick on each side. This road veered slightly to the right before eventually opening up to a glade in the middle of the forest. Here, Michael saw a trailer home that was covered with camo netting. There was also some camp chairs scattered about the area, a well-used firepit, and a simple camping grill. In the setting sun, it gave off a surprisingly quaint atmosphere.
"Nice place," Michael noted sarcastically. Draco snorted a chuckle.
Part of the camo netting was extended out from the trailer, providing a place for the van to park. Michael turned off the van and handed the keys to Draco before stepping out. Once he shut the van door, he looked up to see a large man coming out of the van. He was as tall as Draco, but much more muscular, with a black tanktop and camo-patterned pants. His haircut and his attitude were both very military.
"So you brought the civvie," he said, crossing his arms and looking scornful.
Draco came around from the other side of the van with the briefcase in his hand. "Had to do it. He's probably too far in to be left alone," he explained.
"Yeah, I heard from Ryan. I'm still not happy about it," the soldier responded.
"You and me both," Sarah said, crawling out the back of the van. She was dragging Rock over the edge with her. "Give me a hand with this guy, will ya?"
The soldier shot another glare at Michael before turning to Sarah to help him out. Michael was slightly nervous to move from his spot of dry grass, but Draco waved him over to the door of the trailer.
"That's Tanner. He's gruff, but very by-the-book. His bark is worse than his bite," Draco quickly explained, then opened the door to go inside.
As Michael walked in, he expected the smell of dust and old furniture, so he was surprised that his nose mostly detected the scent of cleaning products. The first room was a rather basic living room: a black pleather couch was seated opposite a small entertainment center that bore a widescreen TV. There was a bookshelf that contained several books and DVDs, but Michael decided he shouldn't get too nosy and check out what they had, despite his natural inclination to do so. The walls were off-white, with no pictures or decorations, and the carpet below was dark gray. To the right was an opening to what looked like a small kitchenette, while to the left near the opposite wall was a hallway deeper into the trailer.
Draco gestured to the couch. "Take a seat, for now. Let me check in with Ryan and see where we want to go from here." He then made his way down the hallway to the left.
Michael obliged, taking another look around the trailer's living room, but there really wasn't much else to look at. He leaned back, hearing the couch wheeze from his weight, and closed his eyes. With all the running around had done, he figured he would probably sleep pretty well tonight. He started to doze off when he heard Sarah and Tanner come into the trailer. Michael was a little surprised to see that Tanner was carrying Rock over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes.
"What are you going to do with him?" Michael asked . Tanner just glared in response, before walking down the same hallway Draco did, shifting Rock's body a little to fit between the walls.
"We thought about tying him to a tree, but decided it would be simply just to keep him here. In any case, he shouldn't be going anywhere," Sarah answered. She then looked at Michael lying on the couch. "Comfy?" she added, condescendingly.
"With all the running I've done today, I could fall asleep on a bed of rocks," Michael answered. Sarah chuckled at that before going down the same hallway the other two did. Michael watched her walk by, but she reached a door to on the left side of the hall to another room. The door was open when she walked through it, but she shut behind herself. Michael decided he was probably better off staying out here, anyway, and so he settled in further, closed his eyes, and tried to rest.
***
Draco walked into the comms room of the trailer and saw Ryan sitting at the main computer situated there. Nearby was a metal shelf stacked with servers and other computer equipment, furiously blinking their little lights. On the other wall was a weapons rack, featuring a variety of firearms and knives. Otherwise, the room was rather dark, and Draco knew Ryan preferred it that way, but he flipped the light switch anyway.
"Jerk," Ryan said, not bothering to turn around. He sat up in his computer chair and rubbed his eyes a bit. Ryan was a bit of a shorter man, but had some muscle to him, which showed from under his white shirt. His hair was brown, but had been spiked up with gel and had blonde tips that he bleached himself. When Draco walked up beside him, Ryan looked up with a pretty weary face.
"This is a mess," he reported. Draco just nodded in response, looking at the details on Ryan's six computer screens.
"Do we know if anyone else is after this thing?" he asked.
"Not really. Rock was likely just a free agent that Trevor brought in to help him. So far, it just seems to be Trevor and Katya. Of course, now that it's gotten this far, other organizations may have gotten wind of it by now," Ryan explained. He clicked a few keys on his keyboard, changing some of the information on the screens for Draco, who took a closer look at them.
At this point, Tanner walked in. "So how do we clear all this up?" Tanner asked. Draco grinned sardonically at his fellow agent's directness as he watched the soldier carefully place Rock on the floor in the corner of the room. Draco wondered if maybe he and Sarah put too many zipties on him, as they looked quite uncomfortable as he lay there, passed out.
Ryan answered Tanner's question. "I've reached out to our Transportation Team, letting them in on what's going on, but I guess they're still two hours away. They'll take our case and our recovered assassin off our hands, and then we'll wrap up here?"
"And what about the civvie?" Tanner followed up.
"Still waiting on that, actually," Ryan said, with a note of suspicion. "I was expecting them to recommend that we take him to a hotel while we sort out his apartment situation, with one of us guarding him. However, when I reached out to HQ about him, they simply told me to stand by. I'm not sure why."
Tanner hummed grimly, clearly unhappy. Sarah then came walking in, shutting the door to the comms room behind her. "What's the situation?" she asked and Draco filled her in.
"So we're just expected to sit around and wait?" she said with an impatient snarl.
"So it seems," Draco answered, shrugging. He found a folding chair nearby the computer desk and sat in it, occasionally glancing at Ryan's screens. He set the briefcase on the floor.
"Perhaps we could debrief a little while we wait," Tanner suggested. Sarah rolled her eyes, but only Draco noticed, as she was standing behind the soldier. He covered his hand temporarily to stifle a chuckle.
"I don't know what we could really go over. It's not like we could have anticipated anything Trevor did," Draco noted. The silence that followed seemed to show a confirmation of Draco's assessment.
"Hey, guys?" Michael's voice suddenly came from the living room, sounding a little alarmed. Draco furrowed his eyebrows at the others, who were also alerted.
"I'll go-" Sarah started but she was cut off by a very loud pounding noise that shook the entire trailer. Tanner and Sarah were able to keep their feet, but as the trailer settled down again, she immediately opened the door to head back to the living room.
"What was that?!" Draco demanded, turning back to the computer monitors. Ryan was rapidly hitting keys to get an update on what was outside. He expanded the program that showed the security cameras outside the trailer, only to notice a few jeeps had arrived with a small army. The camera wasn't the greatest of quality, but it was clear that they were not friendly, as many of them were holding assualt riffles. One of them, a very large man, was rearing up the shoulder charge the door again.
"Where did they come from?" Tanner asked, looking over Ryan's shoulder. Another slam hit the trailer, but this time they were able to brace themselves for it.
"I don't know! They should have triggered my proximity alarms!" Ryan answered. "I know you guys did when you came back."
Draco stood up from his chair and pointed at a figure on the screen. "That's Katya," he identified.
"Guard the case," Tanner ordered, then he went over to a different part of the wall and grabbed a rifle from off of a wall rack, then he stepped out to help Sarah.
Draco grabbed the briefcase and set it in his lap. Then he pulled his handgun out and rested his hand holding the gun on the case. He turned his attention back to the security feed just in time to see the big man slam into the door once again, forcing him to use his free hand to grab the desk to prevent his chair from tipping.
"Out of the frying-" Draco started, muttering under his breath.
"Don't, please," Ryan cut him off before he could finish the cliche. Draco just chuckled dryly.
***
The trailer's front door was already bending pretty badly, but it held, for now. Michael had since relocated to the kitchen at Tanner's direction, who was set up at the edge of the hallway, his rifle trained at the door. Sarah had pushed the couch away from the wall and was set up behind it, her handgun also pointed at the entrance.
However, Dmitri was determined, and when he rammed the door the fourth time, it went flying of its hinges. Sarah had to duck as it slammed into the couch. Tanner immediately opened fire, but Dmitri ducked away back outside. A moment later, two grenades came sailing in through the opened door.
"Not again!" Michael yelled, cowering deeper into the kitchen.
"Get down!" Tanner ordered Sarah, who kept her head down.
However, the grenades didn't explode in flames, but instead sprayed gas through the living room, reducing visibility considerably.
"Tear gas!" Tanner recognized, and he immediately ducked back further down the hallway. Sarah swore, covering her nose and mouth with a free hand, but she could feel her tear ducts starting to react. When she heard some heavy footsteps enter the trailer, she tried firing her handgun blindly in the direction of the door. This caused some shocked voices to sound off, and at least one body hit the floor. Sarah used the moment to dive into the kitchen with Michael.
The kitchen was barely a room at all, just a microwave, a small fridge, a sink, some counter space, and many little cupboards all over the place. Michael felt he had filled the kitchen just on his own, but now that Sarah was in here, he really began to feel crammed. He was afraid he was going to be a barrel of fish for Katya's men to shot into.
However, over the sink was a window, and Sarah pointed at it. "Out there," she ordered. Michael saw that, if it was opened, the gap would be just big enough for him to squeeze through. More importantly, it would put them on the other side of the trailer from Katya's men.
Michael turned and took a quick look through it. "I'm not seeing anybody," he reported, so he pulled the window open, punched out the screen, and put his head through. Taking another quick look around and not seeing anyone, he continued to pull himself through. Just as he was half-way out, he heard Sarah fire a few more shots into the tear gas cloud.
The kitchen window was still a good seven or eight feet off the ground, giving just enough distance for Michael to fall on his head once he was out. He got up a bit groggy, rubbing his head a little, but then he remembered that Sarah was coming out after him, and rolled to the side onto his feet to give her space. She did a better job of getting through the window, doing a bit of a forward somersault on the way out. However, she landed on her knees, and she pitched forward, putting a hand on her rib. Michael then realized that she would probably still be hurting from earlier, and offered to help her up. She scowled at him as he presented his hand, but she took it anyway, letting him help her get to her feet.
Michael then took a look around. The trailer was sitting about a dozen feet from the forest line, which was quite dense. He hoped they wouldn't have to run through there, but he figured it was probably inevitable. He heard a noise come from his left, and when he turned, he saw that the trailer had a backdoor on this side, at the opposite end from the kitchenette. He panicked at first, but when he saw it was just Draco, he sighed with relief. Draco was carrying the case, while Tanner and another man was carrying Rock. Michael noticed that Tanner was crying quite a bit, and he kept blinking to try and clear the tear gas out of his eyes.
"So what now?" Michael asked as they came over to him and Sarah.
"To be honest, not much," the man new to Michael stated. "We are supposed to have back up arriving in a few hours, but I don't think we have that kind of time." He and Tanner set Rock down on the ground, then he turned toward Michael. "I'm Ryan, by the way. SysOps." He held out a hand for Michael to shake, and Michael obliged. He also saw that Draco set the case down and reload his handgun with a magazine had stuffed in the back of his belt under his blue windbreaker.
"Do we have time for pleasantries?" Sarah growled. She had turned back toward the kitchen window and seen one of Katya's men noticing them all outside. She fired her handgun a few times at him, hitting him once in the shoulder. He ducked away, but Michael could hear the man yelling something into the trailer, likely to his comrades.
Tanner wiped some tears from off his face and tried to take a look around. "We won't get far running into the trees," he noted.
"No one was supposed to find this place," Ryan explained, rubbing his face with his hands. "At least I junked the servers, so they won't get anything off of there."
"How did they find us?" Michael asked.
"A good question for another time," Ryan answered, who pulled out his own pistol. While the trained agents had their guns at the ready, Michael was a step behind in noticing that Katya's men had now come around the trailer on both sides. Sarah and Ryan fired to the left while Draco and Tanner focused their attack on the right. This made the attackers skittish, and they retreated back around the edge of the trailer.
In response, the four of them ran up to the side of the trailer and worked their way closer to each edge to try and have their own cover. Michael thought about joining them, but then he noticed something else that made him pause. At first he wasn't quite sure what it was, but he opened his eyes wide and saw that it happened again.
"Uh, guys?" he warned, "I think they're tipping the trailer!"
"What?" Draco said, confused. Then he looked up and saw that, indeed, the top edge of the trailer was coming over them. At once, the four of them ran and jumped. Michael himself started to step back toward the trees. Within a few seconds, the entire thing tipped and came down with a slam, causing dust and pollen to explode into a cloud. By the time, he could see again, he saw that not all of his new friends had escaped unharmed.
Tanner had jumped a little too far, slamming his wrist into a tree. Ryan and Sarah had cleared the falling trailer, and but the landing must of hurt her rib again, as she was curled up in some pain. Draco, unfortunately, hadn't jumped far enough, the edge of the trailer trapping his ankle. Michael quickly came up to him to help.
"I think you just need to lift it a little bit," Draco stated, gritting his teeth through the pain.
Michael scoffed. "It's probably easier to dig around your foot," he responded, and he got on his knees and began digging at the ground with his hands. He hit upon a small rock and began using it to scrape through the hardened dirt, making some progress.
However, his attention was diverted when he heard a massive slamming sound on the trailer. He looked up, seeing Dmitri tower over him, standing on the edge of the tipped trailer. He growled deeply, causing Michael to instinctively drop his rock and raise his hands in surrender.
As the dust continued to clear, he saw that more had joined the massive attacker on the trailer, including a woman with a decadent fashion sense. Despite looking like an Eastern European model, she wore a red Chinese dress with elaborate gold trimming, and a golden feather boa about her neck ends of which dropped to her waist. Her black hair was drawn up into a tight bun, with a golden ring holding it in place. In her hand was a strap that attached to a strange little gray box that she was swinging about like a child's toy. This, Michael discerned, must be Katya.
"Now that I have your attention," she said, her accent as thick as the hulk standing next to her, "I will take the case. Unless you want more causalities." She glared menacingly, but Michael couldn't decide of he should be terrified or laugh at how cliched she was behaving. He felt like he had seen women like her in too many movies to even name them all.
"Alright, alright," Michael heard Ryan shout. He turned and saw that he had dropped his handgun and was also holding up his hands in surrender. Tanner was also getting up, his hand over his hurt wrist. Draco and Sarah stayed on the ground.
With Dmitri's help, Katya was lowered to the ground, and several of her men followed after her. Dmitri came down next to Michael and Draco with a massive thud. He then reached down and lifted the trailer with a single hand. It raised just high enough for Draco for him to slip his ankle out.
"Thank you," Draco wheezed out, but his face was a mix of confusion, pain, and frustration at being helped by the one who clearly caused it in the first place. However, he crawled over to Sarah, and Michael went with him. Sarah was just lying there, one of her arms over her eyes, as she tried to regain her breath.
Katya walked over to Ryan. "Do you surrender?" she demanded, shifting her weight into a confident pose. However, Ryan was eyeing the gray box she was swinging around.
"Is that a tracker?" he asked in a defeated tone. He only got a smile in response, which made him sigh. "Let me guess, you got it from Trevor."
"I don't know what his game is, but I'm certainly having fun playing it," she answered through her smile, showing some very white teeth. She gazed around, as if expecting the case to be presented to her. However, when it didn't show up in the five seconds she decided she was willing to wait, her face shifted to a menacing one. "Where is the case?" she demanded.
Ryan himself looked around, a little surprised that it wasn't obvious. However, he also didn't see it right away. "Hey, Draco! Where did you put it?" he asked.
"I thought I set it next to Rock," Draco answered, his voice still tinged with pain.
Ryan then looked around again, only to utter "What the hell?" He quickly walked over to where he thought he and Tanner had set Rock's body down, only to find neither Rock nor the case. He started sifting his hands around in the new settled dirt, only to come up with a handful of freshly cut zipties. At this, Ryan just hung his head, and then stood up and tossed the zipties out for everyone to see.
"That's cheating," Draco stated, shocked.
"This whole day has been cheating," Sarah retorted. Michael couldn't disagree.
"It seems Rock, who we thought was our prisoner, has run off with it," Ryan reported to Katya in a dejected tone.
Katya's face twisted in displeasure, but instead of responding, she caught her little gray box and consulted the screen on it. Sure enough, the dot on the basic screen was moving away from their location.
"Zespół Wilka!" she shouted, pointing off to her left. "The Korean has taken the case into the woods! After him!" At once, a number of the men, most of them from the other side of the trailer, charged off into the woods.
"What about these?" Dmitri asked, gesturing to their defeated opponents. Katya then turned toward Ryan with a bit of a sadistic smile, taking a pace or two as if to relish the opportunity.
"I should let you know that we do have reinforcements coming at any minute. Not sure what's holding them up, actually," Ryan stated, staring directly at Katya with a stone face. Katya's smile then twisted in frustration.
"The case is what matters," she eventually said to Dmitri. "Let's take your team and see if we can't catch up with Wilka." She then stepped off to walk around the trailer. Dmitri and the rest of their men walked with her, leaving the five of them in the dust near the trees next to the tipped trailer. Once she was out of sight, Ryan then sat down on the ground with a flump, throwing his face in his hands. After a moment, they heard the engines of the jeeps roar to life, and drive away.
"That was an incredible bluff," Michael stated, now that he was certain their attackers were gone. "Is anybody coming for us?"
"We actually do have some back-up arriving in a few hours," Tanner said. He walked up to Michael, Sarah, and Draco before sitting down with the group. "They're not gonna be happy when they get here, though."
"We should be lucky we're alive!" Draco stated with a dry chuckle. He was rocking back and forth in pain, still, his hands holding tenderly around his ankle. Michael figured it was probably broken.
"Well, get some rest. We're clearly not going anywhere for a while," Ryan said, and he proceeded to lie down on the dirt, stretching like a cat. Michael considered doing the same, but he decided to stay sitting up next to Draco. He knew there wasn't anything he could do for him, or Sarah, for that matter, but he figured staying upright was at least a token of solidarity for them.
***
Bruised, battered, but walking, Rock made his way down a staircase within a building filled with metal hallways. One hand hung on to the briefcase, the other was following a wall, ready to steady him in case he lost his ability to stand. He eventually made his way to a door and with an exhuasted grunt, he shoved it open.
Inside the room was a strange hodge-podge of equipment and appliances. Some were on counters, others were scattered around the room. To one side was a computer hooked up to a large machine that looked like a oven or washer that stood from the floor to the ceiling. That ceiling bore a single lightbulg, uncovered, radiating its raw light across the mess. Sitting the middle of the room on a dining chair was Trevor. He was reading a paperback book, but when Rock came in, he looked up.
"Ah, good," he said with mild glee. "You're here." He snapped his book shut and shoved it into one of his many trenchcoat pockets and stood up.
"The money," Rock stated, his voice weezing out of his sore throat. That female agent really did a number on his neck, making his breathing rough and loud.
"Ohohoho," Trevor laughed, haughtily. "I don't give you the money until I am actually able to open the case. It does me no good to get a case I can't open. I may still need you."
Rock gave him a look that was somewhere between confusion and suspicion, but after a moment decided to walk over to Trevor, raising the case for him to take, which he did. Trevor gave the case a quick look over, as if confirming that it was the real thing. Then he walked over to one of the counters at the edge of the room, and after clearing some counter space by unceremoniously shoving a bunch of broken appliances to the floor, set the case down before him. The violent force of the shove caused one the toasters to fall apart, and Rock had to take a step back to avoid letting an old printer land on his feet.
Trevor then began fiddling with the five-digit lock for a few minutes, rolling the numbers up and down. He made a conspicuous humming noise before picking the case back up and moving over to the large machine that looked like a large oven, opening it's large door, and setting the case on a rack inside.
"What are you doing? Destroying it?" Rock asked. Despite trying to be professional for this job, even he couldn't deny he was curious about what this was all about.
"Nope! This is an scanner. I'm going to take an X-Ray, or something like it," he answered, shrugging at the end. He shut the door, then pulled a metal panel over the window to ensure no x-rays came out. Then he walked over to the computer, shook the mouse to pull it out of its screen saver, and then began clicking through some software. The large machine them screeched to life, making a terrible noise between scraping metal and the pig squeal. Rock cringed at the sound, but Trevor was unaffected. However, the sound started to fade as the machine went to work, reducing the noise to mild annoyance. When it went silent, Trevor focued on the screen again, which began to populate the images the machine had generated.
"Oh, fiddlesticks!" Trevor cursed.
"What?" Rock asked, walking slowly and painfully over to see the screens himself. What he saw was an image of the case, but all that was inside seemed to be a large metal box.
"Well, first of all, they have a lead-lined box on the inside, making the contents still a mystery, but the real problem is right here." He then pointed to the part of the image where the combination lock was. Rock took a closer look and saw immediately what was wrong with it.
"It's fake!" he noted, his face scrunched in confusion.
"Yup, and take a look here." Trevor then pointed to the handle of the case, which seemed to show some complicated circuits on the inside.
"What is it?" Rock asked. He had never seen anything like it before.
"It's a SyncLock. GRIFFON has been working on them for a few years. I was hoping this case was older than that and wouldn't have one, but it seems they were proactive on getting them on their high security items. Strangely effective for them." Trevor was now holding his hand to his chin in thought.
"So what does that mean? How do we unlock that?"
"That's the problem," Trevor explained. "SyncLocks actually read the fingerprints of the hands that touch the handle, and records each separate set. It then won't unlock unless each hand then touches the case in reverse order. If the case gets handled back and forth between people, it gets very complicated, but also ensures that whatever is inside won't be opened anytime soon. I handled it first when I stole it from GRIFFON's vaults, but then it obviously got handed around after that."
"Which means you need Michael," Rock concluded, sighing.
"Along with anyone else might have touched the handle between Michael being freed from it and you picking it up." Trevor then turned to Rock with an expectant smile on his face. Rock noticed and just glared at him.
"Can't I just get paid for bring you the case?" he pleaded. He was clearly done with this mess.
"I'm not paying you to bring me a paperweight," Trevor said coldly, his smile unchanging.
"Is there no other way to open it?" Rock asked.
Trevor put on a thoughtful face. "I suppose a kind of Skeleton might exist, but if one does, I have a pretty good idea of who might have it, and I really don't want to deal with him if I can avoid it. I defintely don't want to go back to GRIFFON's warehouse again, at the very least. Having you get Michael would be so much simpler."
Rock growled, then shook his head. "I expect double for this. This wasn't supposed to be such a massive hassle."
Trevor then showed a cocky smile. "Oh, I'm good for it," he assured, his voice smooth and confident. Rock wasn't sure if he was telling the truth or not, but figured if he didn't, he could find someone else who does. He wasn't as injured as he was letting on, just in case Trevor tried to renege on him here and now.
"Fine," Rock said, sighing heavily after. He then turned to walk out the door, and back into the fray.
"Pleasure doing business with you," Trevor said after him in a half-hearted but condescending manner. He then stepped back over to his chair and began digging into trenchcoat pockets to remember where he had stuffed that paperback novel. He figured, at this point, the ball was in his court, and he simply needed to wait for things to come to him.
No comments:
Post a Comment