Cowes, England

The rickety wooden docks were cold and deserted, the normal workers having retreated indoors, and the sailors to their respective ships. Illuminated by a sparse number of towering lamps, the docks and the surrounding warehouses were bathed in dim light. It was here that several dark figures appeared, each in the control of a kind of hovering cart loaded with metal crates. The carts were guided to large pallets in the shadows cast by a warehouse, away from the eyes of any stray night watchmen or security cameras. "Drop the load here, gents." A small voice commanded, and the carts whirred as the crates were lowered through the bottom onto the pallets. The wooden platform creaked with the added weight, and for a moment the cart operators tensed, expecting some suspicious person to leap out from the shadows. But all that was to be heard was their breathing, the electronic hum of the hovercarts, and the distant crashing of the ocean.

"All right, our work here is done." The leader said with relief, steering his vehicle away from the loading platform. "In the morning, it should be discovered and shipped." His cart entered full light, revealing the driver for the first time - an Oompa-loompa. His companions, Oompa-loompas as well, followed in their vehicles, intending to return the way they had come. But the low hum of an approaching vehicle met their ears as they rounded a bend, and they were blinded by a pair of bright beams. The driver of the other vehicle had apparently seen them and jammed on his brakes, the tires squealing. But it was too late… there was a tremendous crashing and groaning of twisted metal as the other vehicle, an SUV, collided with one of the hovercarts. The cart, designed for toting thousands of pounds at a time, was sturdy enough to deflect most damage gained from impact, and so was still functional after the crash. Despite this, the Loompa who piloted it was severely shaken, quivering in shock when he was revived by his comrades. "Are you okay?" "Yeah." Their companion's well-being assured, the Loompas looked back at the wreckage of the SUV. It was inferior technology as far as the Oompa-loompas were concerned; its lack of titanium plating and unreinforced infrastructure had rendered it weak against their cart; all its windows had been broken, its hood imploded, and one door torn off completely. It was a miracle that it had not exploded, the lead Loompa thought as he noted the puddle of gasoline collecting on the ground beneath the remains of the vehicle.

"We banged it up pretty good, but we need to make sure there are no survivors…we don't want them to describe us to the press or anything."

"Damn right," another muttered as he leapt from his seat, unholstering his silenced firearm as he did so.

"I'll cover you," another said, following.

The leader watched them approach the decimated SUV, his stomach knotting in anxiety. They weren't true soldiers, these Loompas. Though basic training had given them the experience they needed to get the job done, they wouldn't have the skills required to extricate themselves from a moment of escalated danger. The two Oompa-loompas neared the driver's window, keeping to the shadows and staying light-footed. They extended their guns ahead of them, turning off the safety as they peered in.

"God…"

The low explanation made the second Loompa twitch in anticipation. "What is it?" He looked into the hole where the window used to be, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He was able to see the driver, obviously dead, slumped over the steering wheel, his face pressing onto the dashboard at an awkward angle, the deflated airbag hanging almost humorously to the side of the dashboard. The second man on the passenger side was not dead, but was unconscious, blood dripping from the side of his head where it had been cut by flying glass. A quick burst from the Loompa's handgun put him out of his misery. The Loompas looked past the corpses into the back, drawing in sharp breaths of disbelief.

"What the-"

The two had been gone for a while, the Loompa leader thought; he leapt from his seat and approached the wreckage, hoping his eyes would not be confronted with a grisly sight. But before he got there, he met his men and a strange burden they were making an effort to convey back to the carts.

"What the hell is going on?" the leader asked angrily, glaring at the other two. "What is that?" He pointed to the cumbersome bundle they were carrying between them.

"It's, uh…" He was distracted from answering as the bundle moved, slipping from the Loompas' hands. In panic, the Loompa leader drew his weapon, aiming for the writhing bundle.

"Wait!" the other two dove for the gun, batting it from their leader's hand.

"What is the meaning of this? What is that thing?" he asked furiously.

"Look for yourself, sir."

The leader turned and froze, his mouth opening in disbelief as he stared. A small face had appeared from within the bundle, the bright eyes of a young child looking at him in curiosity. "A child?" he asked the two in incredulity.

"She was in the vehicle, sir, sleeping at the time."

"And her guardians?"

"Dead and dying."

The leader gave a low sound of frustration, then sighed.

"Well, we can't leave her here; she is obviously too young to survive on her own. Does she have any identification?"

"In the vehicle, sir. Shall we retrieve them?"

the leader nodded, but stopped as the wailing of sirens pierced the night. "Get her to the carts; we have to get to the rendezvous point before the authorities get here."

"Yes, sir."

The little girl, now awake, showed no fear as the Loompas pushed her up, coaxing her to stand. She was no taller than they, and the two Loompas guiding her found it strange that a creature their height should be considered a child.

"Come on, now," they said, encouraging her to get to the location of the hovercarts. She followed a little unsteadily, veering slightly as if she was just learning how to walk. The two guiding her feared she would fall at any moment, but they managed to escort her to their vehicles, where the leader explained the situation to the others before they helped the child into one of the carts.

"All hovercarts are go."

"Roger."

The Oompa-loompas and their new passenger sped into the night, their vehicles hovering low over the dark, rippling water as flashing blue and red lights appeared on the horizon.