Endangered Ch. 09

***

The beat up old Dodge van bounced over another rut and Chris had to stifle a grunt as his head knocked into the thinly carpeted floor of the stripped out rear compartment. His wrists and ankles were already sore, bound behind him in a hardened pair of prisoner transfer manacles. Lying in the back of that stupid van, he thought he must look like a trussed pig ready to roast. It wasn't a nice feeling. He hated this plan already and it had barely started.

He couldn't see jack-shit and it was hard to breathe regularly through the blackout hood over his head. He was supposed to be pretending to be unconscious as they approached the exchange out in the middle of nowhere, forty minutes outside city limits. It was comforting to know that Lillian was somewhere there in the van too, but they were about to be parted.

His throat was still sore and a little bruised from swallowing the small, smooth-polished, egg-like rock. Coloured obsidian black, it was supposed to allow the bearer of the second, paired stone to intuitively know the direction and distance between the two. Michelle had its pair. She, along with Lisa and Kat, were on standby at the airport awaiting Lillian's return, Lear jet fuelled and ready to track him down anywhere in the globe.

"I wish we could just kill this human," Lillian's voice was so quiet he only just heard it. "I can't stand staying behind to mind him while you are left on your own."

"It's okay," he whispered back, knowing she could probably hear him. "I'll be fine, Lillian. Plus, if this goes according to plan, you've got to guard one and a half million dollars."

"I don't like it." It sounded almost petulant before she continued more gently. "Be careful young one, if something happens to you I'll... well let's just say the Vampire Council would have to send one of their elimination squads to stop me."

He couldn't help smiling at her violent brand of affection.

"I'll be careful. We'll catch these guys and be back home in no time."

It was only a few more minutes on the bumpy track before they reached their destination.

"Um... Get ready back there," Noel's uneasy voice drifted back from the cab. "I can see their vehicle."

"Okay," Chris replied.

Momentarily, he felt Lillian's soft body pressed firmly into him, her arm enveloping him. It would have been nice to be able to return her embrace but chained up as he was, it simply wasn't an option.

"Good hunting," she whispered into his ear before she was gone.

The van was braking to a halt and Chris took those last few moments to prepare himself mentally. He was supposed to be unconscious so he tried to relax, focusing on getting his breathing calm, steady, and shallow. He almost lost it to humour, thinking about the poor fool who had to try and carry his bulky body.

He heard muffled voices and a sliding door on the other vehicle opened, then Redding spoke up.

"Where's the money?"

"Right here, you gonna count it?"

Several dull thumps sounded, like something heavy was thrown onto the ground.

Chris heard Noel open his door and get out.

"Hey, what the fuck is that! You wearing a bomb vest?!"

Several gun actions cocked, no doubt pointed at Noel and his fake suicide vest. That had been Noel's idea. He didn't trust the team hired to collect Chris not to kill him and take both the money and the valuable "package."

"Calm down, calm down. It's just a little insurance. Don't want you guys getting any smart ideas about our equity situation. You weren't thinking about double crossing me, were you? Because if you were, this little dead-man's switch will take us all out," Chris had to admit that Noel was pulling it off.

The vest was little more than a couple of wires, an old cell phone and some very real blocks of C4 explosive that Kat had rigged together. Despite its authentic look and the use of real explosives, all they could get on short notice, the vest was completely inert. Even if someone shot it, it would never go off without a detonator.

"Naw, man, naw," the tone of the speaker's voice wasn't all that convincing, neither was the awkward pause which preceded his answer. "The boss won't be happy about this though."

"Fuck that bastard," Redding hoiked and spat, he didn't have to act this part. "He's already screwed me and gotten half my crew killed. Not to mention my busted arm. You should break off after this job, man's an asshole."

For Chris, it was strange to only listen to the goings on and have to lie still. He heard footsteps on the dusty gravel and a series of industrial sounding zippers being opened and closed in rapid succession. He presumed Redding was checking the money.

"Ahh well, sorry about your boys," the stranger spoke. "It's all part of the job. Less ways to split the loot, am I right?"

"Right," Redding's response was sour and dripping with sarcasm.

"Hey now, how did you escape the police and get another shot at this kid? We heard he beat the shit out'a your team and you were headed straight for the slammer?"

They had covered what Redding was supposed to say under questioning but it was a tense moment for them all to see if the other crew were going to buy his story. No doubt they were under orders to be vigilant of law enforcement involvement.

"I got out because I have an outstanding arrangement with a few friends from the old days. They bust me out, I bust them out, you know how it is. As for the kid... well, let's just say shock and awe is not the right tactic to use with this one. You've dealt with some of these freaks before, sure. Not like this one you haven't. He's powerful, but I pumped him so full of tranquilizer, he'll be out for half a day. Alright, the money looks good enough, come get him."

The door on the piece of shit van rolled reluctantly open, squealing all the way. Chris shut his eyes. This was it. Boots shuffled closer across the loose shingle.

Strong hands gripped, dragged. He felt someone messing around with the blackout hood and he steeled his face into as relaxed a pose as possible, preparing to ignore any form of unexpected stimulus. His neck lolled, he even let a bit of spittle drool out of the corner of his mouth. Sunshine on his skin again, they were checking his identity. He held deathly still, just breathing calmly.

"It's him boss," a deep voice he hadn't heard before spoke from right above him. Then the hood and darkness was returned.

"Well hurry up and get him over here, we've got a plane to catch," the original stranger spoke up.

The man was obviously very large and strong. Chris could feel his muscles straining as the man's arms looped under his own and partially lifted his deadweight. Chris' heels impacted painfully as he was dragged out of the van, the man was huffing and puffing above him as he was hauled unceremoniously across the loose, dry dirt.

"Aww shit, Terry, I think he's almost as big as you!" another voice laughed.

"Hey, fuck you. This motherfucker's bigger than me, he's is almost as heavy as your momma."

"Man, why you gotta bring my mom into this? You know she's got diabetes."

"You gonna' help or what?" Terry asked.

An extra pair of hands gripped his legs and he was roughly swung up into another vehicle like an ungainly sack of potatoes. He had to stifle a gasp as some of the wind was knocked out of him. His shoulders burned and his wrists screamed protest as they were jostled uncaringly. The metal of the cuffs in particular was testing his limits of endurance.

"A pleasure doing business with you," the stranger said seedily from what Chris now assumed was the driver's seat of his new captor's vehicle. Above him, the two men who had carried him caught their breath and began patting him down, searching for anything untoward.

"Oh, I almost forgot, here are the keys to the manacles," Noel spoke. Chris heard the faint ring and clank of the keys flying before they were caught. "Now if you don't mind, get the fuck out of here."

"Asshole," the stranger replied as the van's engine started into life and quickly began rolling forward, kicking up billow of dust into the dry air of the autumn afternoon.

The road began bouncing him uncomfortably again as they sped up. Only this time, he was also assaulted by the smell of two sweaty men. They drove in silence for a few minutes, there was obvious tension in the air. The lackeys didn't want to speak up and potentially provide an outlet for their boss' frustration.

"Fuck!" the driver sounded like he'd just punched the dash. "That could have been our money! That crazy asshole wore a bomb vest?!"

"You got to give it to him for style though boss. I mean he got himself sprung from jail and leveraged it for double the original payment on the kid. Talk about turning a frown upside-down."

"Shut up and dose the kid, Terry. I'm not taking any chances with these freaks."

Chris' heart sank. This was one of their least preferable options. If he got drugged for real now, he would be at the complete mercy of his captors for the foreseeable future, possibly forever. It would be one hundred percent up to Michelle, Lisa, Kat, and Lillian to track him down and extract him from trouble.

Michelle said it was his call. In this situation, it was up to him to decide whether to allow himself to be incapacitated or to abort the operation and hope the transfer team knew enough to lead them to the higher echelons of this conspiracy. That would take time, he wanted this whole incident to be put to bed and justice served swiftly.

He swallowed nervously, banking on the magic of the little rock resting inside him and rolled the dice.

A sharp prick against his skin. Then there was no need to pretend to be unconscious.

***

Michelle took another glance out the window of the patrol car toward the modern, sleek building. Situated in a spacious, newly commissioned industrial park, it was clearly designed to impress. No expense had been spared in its construction. The entire north-facing façade was a giant wave-form of tempered glass, looking out across the perfectly manicured garden and extensive lawn. A crisp, unfaded flag even flapped proudly in a light breeze in front of the gilded sign near the entrance. It read Riker Pharmaceutical.

She clutched the little onyx stone in her hand, feeling the connection to its partner flare bright in her mind's eye. There was no doubt, he was here, somewhere in the sublevels. Disturbingly, it seemed like he hadn't moved at all. She hadn't been sure what to expect when they tracked down Chris, but this wasn't it. It opened an entirely new and unsettling avenue of thought in her analytical mind.

Despite its impressive, clean cut appearance, this was a top-of-the-line biomedical research facility. What's more, from her brief investigation, it was the boundary-pushing daughter company of one of the largest pharmaceutical giants. Incredibly well funded, tightly secured, lawyers up to the tits, and tied to some of the oldest, richest families in the country. This could get ugly.

"Holy shit," Patty Hayse, their liaison with the Madison Police Department spoke in disbelief as her phone chirped. "Your warrant just came through."

"That's to keep you happy, Patricia. I didn't really need one in the first place, we have exigent circumstances," Michelle said dryly. She could understand the Madison PD's reluctance to facilitate the search of such an institution without a warrant. In truth, the eight officers that had been reluctantly assigned to her would be helpful. They could help calm the no doubt oblivious employees of the company, especially security personnel.

Michelle was more concerned with the Being inter-territory jurisdiction politics of operating in Minnesota. Reyla assured her it was fine. Seeing as New Orleans, the hub city for this territory, was so far to the south, the Lord was happy to let Reyla's agents follow their investigation into his own protectorate. This was practically the wild west of the USA Being society.

"I still can't believe it," Patty muttered to herself. When the obviously driven woman had showed up at their headquarters earlier that day and demanded that she be assisted with a search of the influential pharmaceutical company's premises, the Madison PD had been understandably sceptical. Now here she was, reading a no-knock warrant for that same company less than two hours later.

"Let's go!" Kat said enthusiastically from the back seat of the cruiser, opening her door.

Michelle stepped out as well and looked the ex-marine up and down, shaking her head. The woman was loaded for bear, looking like she was stepping onto the front line of a war. She cut an imposing figure in her full body armour, molle webbing brimming with extra magazines, flash grenades, breaching charges... the list went on.

"This is a civilian operation, Kat. We're trying NOT to shoot anyone, okay, especially with that thing," Michelle pointed to the short-barrelled AR-10 that Kat had pulled out of the back seat after attaching her Kevlar helmet and protective glasses. She had protested but Kat wouldn't budge on carrying the mighty weapon, insisting that someone on the team had to have an option for dealing with body armour or heaven forbid, hostile Beings. Michelle really hoped they didn't have to confront that possibility but admitted it was best to be prepared. The damn thing was the same calibre as a police sniper rifle.

"Don't worry, I'll take lead," Lisa said as she and Patty got out on the other side of the car. "I'm more familiar with procedure."

Michelle felt a bit better about that. She had confidence the recently former FBI agent would show adequate restraint when confronted. The newly trained soldier might not. Lisa was also an expert pistol marksman, having competed nationally for a few years after high school. She was notorious in FBI circles for once having shot a gun out of a suspect's hand. A slightly customised Glock 23 was currently holstered low on her right hip, another secured to her left thigh, a backup.

Despite the heavily armed, highly trained members of their growing little team, Michelle knew their most lethal weapon required no firearm to be deadly. The vampire was bound to be somewhere nearby, lurking invisibly and itching with frustration to rush to the young man.

"Lillian, don't do anything rash," she whispered to the air, praying the vengeful woman would hear and listen to her.

Lillian did hear her, but couldn't promise not to follow her heady desire for retribution. It would all depend on what they'd done to her beloved dragon. She was very worried that he hadn't contacted them at all.

Michelle secured her own helmet and weapon, clipping a compact, more manageable assault rifle into its sling. Patty was looking at them askance in their full armour as the other officers followed their lead and got out of their cars.

"Have a squad car block the car park exit and a couple of officers cover the back in case anyone tries to sneak away," Michelle instructed as she started across the quiet street towards the building grounds.

"Yes, Agent Hamund, I'm coming with you though," Patty quickly motioned two officers to comply with the instructions before rushing to catch up to the fierce looking trio.

The young security guard at checkpoint just inside the door had clearly never been confronted with quite so much bristling, hostile firepower before. He stood agog as the glass parted and the armoured figures glided into his little world, a world in which he had previously been the utmost authority. It was his job to check employees and visitor's identity before they were let into the building. This was something completely new.

"Federal agents, we have a warrant to search these premises," Lisa strode in first speaking clearly, confident but wary. Her hand rested casually on her hip, next to the unbuckled holster of her pistol.

The metal detector blared angrily, sensing a vast amount of its intended target as the women walked up towards the front desk, followed by a small procession of police officers. The foyer was richly appointed, open, and modern. The atrium looked like it went up all the way to the top of the five-storied building. Huge planters, brimming with live growth of untold varieties hung suspended at various levels. Michelle wondered how on earth they were watered. It was a very impressive floating garden, which many a visitor had no doubt marvelled at as they waited for appointments below.

They were almost at the worried looking receptionist's desk when a door burst open about thirty metres over to the right. Kat immediately raised her weapon, covering the startling appearance of a middle-aged man in a security uniform. He was armed too, a pistol on his hip. Behind him five more men appeared, swarming out of the security office like ants from a kicked nest. He hesitated momentarily, staring down the barrel of an assault rifle. He took in the officers behind the imposing figure of the dark-skinned woman and began walking towards them cautiously, his hand well away from his weapon.

"What's this about, Patricia?" he asked, recognising the older police sergeant from his own days on the force.

"Sorry, Richard. It's a search warrant," Patricia held up her phone, displaying the electronic copy of the warrant and gestured towards Michelle.

"And what exactly are you searching for, Miss...?" he asked.

"Agent Hamund, NSA," Michelle supplied. "We have reason to believe your company has engaged in kidnapping and is currently holding at least one individual against their will on the premises. Are you in charge of security here?"

"Yes. But you're joking, right?" Richard scoffed, looking around for a smiling face to give away the prank. There was simply no way this woman was for real and since when was there an all-woman tactical team?

"Afraid not, Richard," Michelle said. "I would appreciate your assistance providing access to the sublevels of the building so we don't have to damage the property."

"I... I can't," he stammered. "I mean, I don't have access to the labs downstairs. There's sensitive research going on down there."

"Take us there, now," Michelle said coldly as she began walking towards the elevators. She wasn't sure if the man was truly oblivious or this was some sort of stalling tactic. She pushed the call buttons on both and spoke to the assembled officers who were milling behind them. "Hold both of these elevators open and press the stop button when they get here. No one is to go up or down. Secure the lobby and contain everyone until we get back."

"Now just hold on a minute you can't..." Richard started to protest.

Michelle rounded on him.

"You will provide assistance immediately or so help me I will throw the book at you, am I clear?" Her voice gave no room for further argument. "Unlock the stairwell."

Kat, Lisa, and Patricia followed Richard over as he grudgingly held his card up to the reader on the door to the stairwell. It chirped happily and the magnetic lock clicked open. Michelle pointed Lisa and Kat forward. The FBI agent drew her pistol and took the lead, clearing the stairwell and proceeding downwards. Kat shadowed her perfectly, rifle poised and ready to reply to any threat.

"You don't find it odd that the head of security doesn't have access to parts of the building? Who does have access?" Michelle asked as they headed down.

"Not really," Richard said a little sulkily. He knew he hadn't done anything wrong, but he'd never been on this end of a search warrant, it wasn't nice. "I'm a glorified doorman. These guys do serious research and some of the equipment is very delicate and expensive, so I'm told. Only the executive staff and a dozen or so high-profile researchers have access down here."