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CHAPTER ONE: The Attack
It was time for the quarterly stock-taking at The Nabootique, and Naboo was at his wit's end. He was trying to balance the books and work out the budgeting for the coming new year, and his help was being anything but helpful.
Vince was supposed to be working with Howard on the inventory, but kept getting distracted by the new supply of vintage winter clothing they'd gotten in that morning. Howard was doing slightly better, but spent more time scolding Vince and tattling on him to Naboo than actual stock-taking. Even Bollo was grating on the shaman's nerves, bumbling around as if unsure who to take orders from. At last, the pint-sized shaman called his team together, and they crowded around the sales counter.
"Alright," Naboo said, rubbing his temples, "Vince, you're excused for the rest of the day. Go upstairs, just stay out of the way."
"Ah, cheers, Naboo!" the mod vanished up the stairs in a flash of sequins and white patent leather.
"You two," the shaman continued, "can go down to the basement and do a complete stock-take of everything down there. There's stuff down there that was here when we moved in." He took Bollo and Howard by the arms and steered them both toward the back of the shop, where there were steps leading down to the basement. "See if we can sell any of it."
"Will do," Howard said happily, pulling out a pen and flipping over a fresh page on his clipboard "You're talking to Howard Moon, the stock-taking machine!"
"Idiot," Bollo muttered under his breath, following the exuberant jazz man.
"Right," Naboo said, moving back around behind the sales counter and climbing onto his stool, "I'll stay up here and keep an eye on the shop... try and get these sodding books balanced...." He nibbled on the eraser of his pencil, staring down at the numbers for a minute, and then shook his head in wonder.
Howard pulled open the door to the basement and started down into the darkness, with one hand on the wall for balance. Once at the bottom, he reached into the air and felt around, looking for the pull-chain for the light. Finally finding it, he gave it a tug, and the untidy, over-packed basement was illuminated in dusty light.
"Whoa," Bollo murmured as he came to stand at Howard's elbow. "We supposed to log all this crap?" He looked around at the piles and piles of old furniture, clothing, framed paintings and assorted rubbish.
"Yep," Moon said with a satisfied nod and a smile, "and I can't think of a better way to spend a wet, cold, wintry morning."
"Idiot," Bollo murmured again.
The door to the shop opened, the little bell at the top tinkling cheerfully. Naboo sighed and looked up from his work to see two strange men entering the shop. They were both sturdy and tall, with similar features that made him suspect they were brothers. The larger of the two men looked at Naboo, and smiled in a friendly way.
"Hello there, I'm looking for the owner of this shop," the unknown man said kindly as his companion moved off to look at a rack full of Howard's jazz albums, "Is that you?"
"That's right," Naboo replied, hopping off his stool and coming around the counter. He offered his hand, and the stranger gripped it and shook it firmly. "I'm Naboo," the shaman said, pointing to the sign in the window with a grin, "Of the Nabootique."
"Nice to meet you, young man, my name is Carlton, and this is my brother, Edmond." He turned to gesture at the other man, who was still apparently engrossed in the selection of records.
"Hello," Naboo said, with a nod of acknowledgement toward Edmond's back, "What can I help you gentlemen with today?"
Carlton smiled, glanced around for a moment, and then pointed at a shelf against the far wall. "I'd like to look at that old clock you have there," he said. He followed as Naboo turned and moved to the shelf holding the object.
"What, this one?" Naboo asked, his back to the customer as he reached up with both hands for the antique timepiece. He heard a flurry of movement behind him, and all at once, the stranger's thick arm slithered around his middle.
"Hey!" The shaman gasped in surprise, and both hands flew to push at the arm imprisoning him. He drew in breath to shout, but a strong hand clamped itself over his mouth and muffled the sound. He was lifted off the ground and carried, kicking and struggling, toward the door. Reaching out with one flailing hand, he managed to wrap his fingers around the tail of the taxidermy alligator on the counter top.
"What's he want with this one, anyway?" Carlton hissed to his brother, who was standing guard at the door, "He's puny.... Can't be worth more than... OW!" He was cut off as his puny victim began whacking him in the head with an alligator. He glared as Edmond snickered.
After a few blows, the alligator was knocked out of Naboo's grip, the entire attack having little effect on his massive assailant. Naboo then locked his fingers on the hand covering his mouth, trying to pry it loose. Even if he had no hope of breaking free from the iron arm holding him at the waist, Howard and Bollo were only one cry away. Unfortunately, the stranger's hand seemed immovable, and all the shaman could manage were nasal grunts and muffled cuss words.
"C'mon, will you?" Edmond hissed, glancing stealthily through the glass of the front door, ducking to see under the sash he'd drawn partway down.
"UNGH..., I'm trying," his brother grunted in a pained whisper as Naboo's struggles threw him off-balance, "Little bastard's stronger than he looks.... Have Smith start the van!"
Edmond lifted the sash and gave a thumbs-up.
As he was half-dragged, half-carried past the sales counter, Naboo had an idea. Leaning back against his captor, he reared up and kicked straight out with both feet, connecting with the heavy, ancient cash register. It slid off the counter and fell to the floor with a deafening crash, and his attacker froze.
"....Shit."
Howard and Bollo were still hard at work stock-taking in the basement, when there was a thunderous crash on the ceiling that set the single dangling light bulb to swinging. Both man and ape jumped.
"What was that?" Bollo asked, looking up as a bit of dislodged dust came floating down onto his fur. He reached up and grabbed the chain to stop the light from swinging as Howard quickly crossed the room to the foot of the stairs.
"Naboo?" Moon anxiously called up the stairs. When no reply was forthcoming, he climbed up a few steps, looking upwards toward the light from above. "Hello? You all right?" When there was still no answer, he shot a concerned glance at Bollo, and started up the stairs.
Naboo was reassured by the sound of Howard's distant voice calling from the basement, and he doubled his efforts to break free of his attacker's hold. There was the sound of an engine revving out front, and he glanced fearfully toward the front door. Who were these people, and where were they planning on taking him?
"For fuck's sake, man," Carlton snapped, giving up all attempts at stealth, "Will you get over here and help me with him?"
With one more glance out the window, Edmond came running over. After dodging a few kicks, he was able to grab the little shopkeeper's legs and bundle them together under his arm. Together, he and Carlton headed for the door, carrying the struggling shaman between them. They had to pause as Edmond fumbled with the door handle, and Naboo took advantage of the hesitation.
With careful aim, he was able to ram the heel of his hand up under Carlton's chin, and the taller man grunted in pain. While his attacker was thrown off-balance and distracted, Naboo was at last able to wrench the hand from his mouth and sink his sharp little teeth into it.
"GAHHHH!" Carlton bellowed, waving his hand, "Bloody hell....!"
"HELP!" Naboo wailed at the top of his lungs, still valiantly straining against the strong arms holding him, "BOLLO, HELP!"
Sucking on his bitten hand, Carlton struggled to keep his hold on Naboo as his brother finally got the door opened. For his tiny size and delicate appearance, this shaman was proving to be a much more challenging target than he had anticipated. To make matters worse, now the little berk was yelling the house down.
"HOWARD, BOLLO, HELP ME!"
"Shut him up!" Edmond snarled, trying to keep his hold on Naboo's legs, "Gag him, will you? Before the whole bleeding neighborhood turns out!"
"YOU gag him," Carlton snapped back, "The little twat BIT me!" He looked around and spotted a heavy glass paperweight on a nearby table. Tightening his arm around the thrashing shaman's waist, he grabbed it and raised it, anger in his eyes.
"No, wait, DON'T...!" Edmond cried, reaching out to his brother.
"HELP, BOL...!" The rest of Naboo's cry was cut off as Carlton struck him over the head, and the little shaman went limp.
"Should have done that sooner, really," Carlton muttered, mostly to himself, as he tossed the paperweight aside.
"Oh, well done, shit-for-brains," Edmond said angrily, "He specifically told us he wouldn't pay for damaged ones!"
"HEY!"
The two would-be kidnappers turned at the sound of the new voice, Naboo dangling like a rag doll in their clutches. A tall man with a moustache and tiny eyes stood at the shoulder of an enormous gorilla, just inside the back door. Both man and beast were looking daggers at Carlton and his brother. As they watched, the moustached man reached behind the door jamb and picked up a cricket bat.
"Alright," Howard growled furiously, brandishing the bat like a Samurai sword, "you've got five seconds to put him down, before my mate Bollo here...,"
"YOU HURT NABOO!!!" Bollo roared as he ran at the strange men, blue eyes wild with animal rage.
"....Make that one second," Moon added dryly. He saw the two strange men's eyes go wide, either out of wonderment at the talking ape, or out of plain old trouser-wetting fear as the massive animal charged them. As one, they dropped their insensate victim and bolted out the front door.
"Howard!" Bollo shouted as he jumped over his master's motionless body.
"Go!" Moon called after the ape, "I'll look after Naboo!" He tossed the cricket bat aside and ran to his fallen friend as Bollo ran out the door in pursuit of the two invaders. There was a sound of screeching tires, and a van pulling away at high speed.
Howard dropped to his knees beside the shaman, sat him up, and cradled him against his chest. He did a quick once-over of the smaller man's body, looking for injuries. Then he gently slapped Naboo's cheek, trying to revive him, with no response.
Muttering a curse, he gathered the boneless mystic up in his arms and surged to his feet.
"Vince!"
Moon's sharp bark made Noir jump in surprise, sending his copy of Cheekbone flying. He sprang up from his chair and turned, prepared to berate the jazz man for startling him as he came charging up the stairs. When he saw the distressed expression on Howard's pallid, sweaty face, he paused.
"Howard...?" The words died on his lips as Howard reached the top of the stairs, and Vince saw Naboo cradled in his arms. Moon bypassed Vince and crossed to the couch, and the wide-eyed mod realized with a jolt that their mystic friend was unconscious.
"What happened?" he demanded urgently, moving to stand beside the couch as Howard gently eased Naboo's limp little body down onto it. Vince pulled the gaudy, woolen throw from the back of the couch and handed it to Howard, watching in tense silence as he draped it over the shaman.
There were more footsteps, and Vince looked over as a panting Bollo came up the stairs, leaning heavily on the banister. He did a double-take when he saw that the ape carried the rear door of a van in his powerful hand, and that said door had clearly been ripped off its hinges.
"Bollo no catch them," the ape said, obviously angry and upset, "Van too fast, and...," he turned the door to study the outer panel, "...no plate." He laid the detached door against the wall, took a quick pull on his inhaler, and came to lean over the back of the couch, gazing sadly down at Naboo. "Sorry, Howard."
"That's alright," Howard said, kneeling beside Naboo's head and gently cupping the small, angular face in his big hand. "Naboo?" he called gently, brushing his thumb across the shaman's cheek, "Naboolio?"
"What happened?" Noir asked again more quietly as he knelt beside Howard. The moustached man glanced up at him then at last, and his face was still pale and bleak.
"Couple of thugs tried to kidnap him," Moon muttered, laying the palm of his hand on Naboo's brow.
"WHAT?" Vince exclaimed in alarm, subconsciously reaching out to lay his hand on the wizard's chest, "Did you recognize them?"
Moon shook his head. "Never seen them before." He turned and grabbed a throw pillow from the floor, raised Naboo's head, and gently tucked it underneath. Then he pointed across the still form for the phone on the end table.
"Bollo see van out front couple hours," Bollo said gravely, his peculiar blue eyes full of worry, "Bad men watch us, wait for Howard and Bollo go to cellar...." He punched his fist into his other hand with an angry grunt. "Soon as Naboo alone, bastards jump him. Hit him on head."
"Could they have been thieves?" Vince asked, handing Howard the phone.
"No," Howard muttered as he dialed the telephone, "they left the money all over the floor." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, before looking grimly up at Vince. "They wanted Naboo."
"Damn near take him, too," Bollo growled, cracking his knuckles and flaring his nostrils.
Vince felt a chill run down his spine, and he leaned over Naboo as Howard stood and moved around the couch with the phone. The mod was only half-listening to Howard as he spoke on the phone; he was preoccupied with the still-unconscious shaman.
"Hello, give me the police," Moon was saying, "Yes, it's an emergency."
"Oh, he is hurt," Bollo murmured, reaching over the back of the couch and touching his thick, gray fingers to Naboo's scalp. His fingertips came away red and sticky. "Bollo get first aid kit, be right back." The animal lumbered quickly away down the hall toward the bathroom, glancing back over his shoulder at his beloved master, and shaking his head worriedly.
"I got a bad feeling about this...."
"Me too," Vince murmured, leaning close and tenderly stroking the hair back from Naboo's forehead. The shaman suddenly took a deep breath and moaned.
"Naboo?" The mod moved to sit on the edge of the couch and gently took his friend by the shoulders. "Hey, c'mon mate, open your eyes for me."
The little wizard stirred a bit, and his long, thick lashes fluttered on his cheeks. With a furrowing of his brow and a soft groan, Naboo slowly opened his dark eyes and blinked sleepily. Then, he seemed to remember what had just happened, and he surged upward with a strangled cry, eyes wide, lashing out with his fists.
"No-no, it's alright!" Noir said quickly, grabbing the flailing wrists, "It's me, it's Vince!" He pulled Naboo into a sitting position and wrapped both arms around him, trapping the little shaman's frantic hands between their bodies, holding him tight against his chest. "Shhh... easy... easy...."
Naboo struggled for a moment longer, then froze. "V-Vince?" his hoarse, tremulous voice asked uncertainly, his compact frame shaking.
"Yeah," Noir sighed, closing his eyes in relief. He smiled as he felt Naboo's arms slip around his waist and cling tightly to him. Vince tucked the shaman's head under his chin, rubbing his back in what he hoped was a comforting way. "It's alright, luv," he breathed softly, "you're safe."
"Right, thank you, constable." Wrapping up his phone call, Howard glanced over as Bollo came back up the hall with a small white box in his hands. He hung up the phone, set it down on the end table, and came to kneel beside the couch again. "Hey there," he said softly, with a smile, when he saw that Naboo was awake.
"Howard?" Naboo turned haunted, chocolate-brown eyes on the tall man. "Those men...?"
"They've gone," Howard said reassuringly, "Everything's all right, the police are on their way."
The wizard nodded absently, the fearful look in his eyes beginning to fade at last. But he made no move to let go of Vince, or to pull back from the protective embrace in which the mod held him.
"Who were they?" he asked, blinking, "What did they want?"
"We dunno," Moon admitted reluctantly, "they just came in and grabbed you. Bollo tried to catch them, but they got away."
Naboo shuddered, shrinking ever so slightly into Vince's chest.
"Hey," Howard added quickly, leaning close and laying his hand on the shaman's back, "whomever they were, they aren't gonna get near you again.... I promise."
"Right," Vince concurred quietly, tightening his arms around Naboo and laying his cheek against the top of the little shaman's head. He glanced around, smiling as Bollo moved in close to lay his hairy hand on Naboo's shoulder. The tender moment went on, all four friends connected in silent, brotherly love.
"Fuck, my head hurts," Naboo muttered, breaking the mood and making everyone chuckle. He sat back and released Vince at last, reaching up to run a hand through his bobbed black hair. "Yecch," he mumbled, pulling a face as he studied the clotted blood on his fingertips.
Bollo hesitantly offered the first aid kit, and Howard reached up to take it from him. "Thanks, Bollo." He gently took hold of Naboo's jaw, and the shaman allowed his head to be tilted toward the jazz man.
"That's not too bad," Moon said with a relieved smile, "Shouldn't require sutures.... I'll just clean it up a bit, maybe put a butterfly bandage...," He was interrupted by the ringing of the phone, and pointed for Vince to get it.
The mod nodded and stood up, patting Bollo's shoulder in passing when he saw the ape wringing his hands. He then moved to the phone and picked it up. "Hello?"
"Noir!" a familiar voice said anxiously.
"Dennis?" Vince said in surprise, knitting his brows. The Head Shaman rarely used the telephone, and certainly never called them at home. "Look, I haven't been anywhere near your wife, so...."
"Is Naboo safe?" The Head Shaman demanded, interrupting. "Do you have him there with you?"
"How did you...?" Noir blinked in wonderment and glanced over at the couch, where Howard was cleaning up Naboo's head wound. "A couple of gits tried to snatch him, not five minutes ago!" He heard a muttered curse from Dennis, and the Head Shaman spoke to someone else at his end of the phone.
"Naboo as well," Vince heard him say, "that's three.... This is no longer a coincidence."
"Dennis?" Noir called, curiosity taking over, "Hey, what's happening?"
"Listen, Noir," Dennis said sternly, his voice low and serious, "someone is targeting the local shaman. Saboo's gone missing, and I've got Harrison hidden in my guest bedroom, critically injured after fighting his way out of an ambush."
"Oh my god," Vince breathed, looking over at Naboo again and feeling a sense of dread in his chest.
"We don't know the motive behind it all yet," Dennis was saying, "But for now, I am instructing all shaman to go into hiding, until I find out more."
"Right," Vince replied. Howard and Naboo were staring at him now with questioning looks. Howard opened his mouth to speak, and Vince held up a hand.
"Noir...," Dennis said, lowering his voice as if he could sense that Naboo was in earshot, "This is very serious. I shall have my hands full trying to uncover the culprits behind these attacks, so I'm counting on you three to look after Naboo.... You must protect him!"
"Of course!" Vince replied earnestly.
"I suggest you move him immediately," Dennis continued, "Get out of town. Take him someplace remote, where you can keep him safe, where they -- whomever they are -- won't think to look."
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