Mixed Messages
Chapter 13
Lost and found

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The early morning sun flared like fire over the treeline, burning the light frost into a low hanging fog. A pair of heavy binoculars focused on a rusted warehouse in the shadowed Vancouver waterfront. They surveyed from left to right and stopped on a short gray flash that materialized out of the shadows and put a foot against the fence.

A tall and scruffy, plaid shirt clad man lowered his binoculars, and said, "Dude! What the heck! Some girl just jumped the fence!"

A man in a bomber jacket with short cropped black hair sat up straight, threw binoculars up, and said, "Monroe, was she coming out?"

"Nick, she went in!"

"In? That makes no sense."

"Wook, you got anybody female, short, like five foot even, about ninety pounds, dark hair?"

"Like a victim?" answered the red haired giant in the back seat, looking up from a thick dossier file and a floorplan.

Nick peered through the fog at the gray image, and said, "Nope, she just went in."

"That's a negatory, five-oh."

Monroe leaned the binoculars on the black dashboard, snickered, and said, "Probably just some kid looking to break windows or hook up with her boyfriend."

They turned and continued reviewing their floor plan, map, and pictures from the back of a large white SUV. Nick pointed at a map, and said, "Ok, Monroe's team goes in here from the side. My team goes in the front. We'll make a diversion and draw out everybody we can while Wook's team goes in the back and recovers the girls. We've run this two dozen times with the teams. Is there anything we are missing for tomorrow? There are fourteen girls in there, so this has to be right."

"And they have medical teams ready? Most of these girls haven't eaten in the better part of two months. They're going to be in bad shape, probably barely walking."

"We've got an Royal Canadian Mounted Police contact coordinating ambulances and EMT's. There are beds in three hospitals cleared out and ready."

Monroe pointed at the map, and asked, "Who is cutting the fence tonight? We gotta make sure every single hole is ready."

Wook answered, "We have five RCMP agents coming in after dark tonight to cut the fence. We just have to mark the sections, and that means we better be here so we know exactly where the holes actually end up."

"Oh, after last time, I'm standing there and making sure they actually cut it."

They all nodded.

Monroe asked, "Are they cutting the chains on the doors too? You know, so we can actually get in?"

Wook said, "You really think they can get that close without Hundjagers sniffing them out?"

"So is there a breaching team?"

"I don't understand why you always have so much trouble with doors."

"It's not like the rest of us can just rip a hole through the wall."

Wook chuckled and shrugged.

"Ok, well, we better have like ten pairs of bolt cutters, the good ones, and not that cheap discount store junk!"

Nick laid the binoculars down, and said, "Ok, let me guess, you brought your great-great-uncle's pre-war set which he buried in the black forest to hide from both the Kaiser, and Hitler, which you inherited from Uncle Felix and recently restored."

Wook's laughter boomed out and he fist bumped Nick, while Monroe rolled his eyes, chuckled, and said, "No, I keep Uncle Felix's pair at the house for special occasions, you know, like when I have to cut an original Louis XIV 1688 Thuret clock out of somebody's cold, dead hands. You're the cop, don't you keep bolt cutters in the trunk?"

"Yeah, well, you know me. Gas station coffee and hoi polloi bolt cutters. If you're ok using mine, we'll sneak in after dark and cut all the chains loose."

Monroe laughed, raised the binoculars back to his eyes, and said, "I guess we'll just have to settle. The struggle is real!"

Half an hour later, Nick got out, stretched, and ambled behind the thick bushes into a slow shower of orange and brown leaves. He stared into his thermos, poured a steaming black slush of gritty grinds onto the tall grass, and said, "Hey, one of you guys want to go grab some coffee or do you want me to?"

Wook and Monroe chuckled. Monroe said, "Well, since you're offering. Hey, at least make sure they brew a fresh pot."

"What, my usual coffee isn't good enough for you?"

Monroe shuddered and wrinkled his nose, then said, "Nick, you know we love you, but you'll drink literally anything if it's in the bottom of a coffee pot."

Wook laughed out loud again and fist bumped Monroe.

Nick winked and said, "Do you want to go instead, maybe pick up some fancy bolt cutters while you are out?"

"No, I'm just saying, have them brew a fresh pot."

Nick snuck back to a second car and drove off, leaving Wook and Monroe laughing and praying that Nick wouldn't simply pour all the stale gas station coffee dregs into the thermos... Again.

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Amanda poked her head back in the open window, high on the wall, stared down at her friend, and said, "Hurry! Miriam!"

The black haired girl below reached up towards a rusty steel beam, pushed her foot on a warehouse shelf, and kicked her leg up. Her pants leg snagged on a rusty bolt, her foot slid and she hung, toes dangling inches above the floor.

Her fingers slid. She craned towards the window, kicked at a cross brace, and cried out, "No! Help!"

She fell free and slammed onto the floor, enveloped in a shower of grit. She laid on her back, eyes clenched, weeping, with her hands gripping the back of her head. She rolled onto her side, pulled her knees into her chest and rocked, smearing the outline in the black dust.

Amanda waved her hand and quietly called down, "You have to climb!"

Miriam pushed up, onto her knees, and a tangle of black hair sheeted her head. She bowed, nose pressed into a growing puddle of tears on the hard concrete floor, and sobbed, "I, I can't!"

Amanda backed out the window, onto the sun-drenched roof, and squinted, searching the empty expanse, finally focusing on the ladder access twenty feet away. She poked her head back into the darkness and called out, "Hurry, before they come back."

Miriam's voice echoed, "Mandy! No! Don't leave me!"

Amanda stared out into the quiet and felt the gentle breeze, squinting past the trees for Lauren's car. The cage ladder sat feet away. The empty parking lot below, the fence, and the tree line beckoned. She gritted her teeth, muttered, "You can't leave Miriam!" and climbed back in the window.

She scampered back down the rusty brown beams, across orange racking, and hopped to the floor. She gently rubbed Miriam's shoulder, took her hand, and whispered, "I'm not leaving you. Get up. We have to hide. They're coming!"

Four black haired men with guns ran in, stared up at the open window, and shot, filling the room with a deafening roar. Holes perforated the wall and sent dirty glass shards clattering and crackling onto the machines below, while Miriam cupped hands of over her ears, rocked, and silently wept.

A shorter, brown haired man in a black suit ran in, and yelled at them in a foreign language. He pointed to the mark on the floor, pointed at them, yelled some more, then called out in broken English, "Miriam! Come out Miriam! We know you're in here."

He pointed and yelled again, sending the men away into a dark hallway, as he searched in the other direction.

Amanda and Miriam crept past the machine. He jumped out and slashed his knife. Amanda darted in front of Miriam, arm raised, and grimaced as red drops sprinkled her shoes. She kicked his knife hand, sending the knife clattering, and stabbed her own knife into his stomach. He slammed a fist across her face, spinning her around and knocking her down. He kicked and stomped as she rolled across the floor, slashing claws and her knife across his legs.

He grimaced and she leapt to her feet. He put his head down and shot in to tackle her. He smashed her against an old machine and she stabbed, over and over, into his back, then slashed claws across the side of his neck. He jerked up, glassy eyed, and stumbled back a step with a hand on his neck while red seeped through his fingers and shirt.

She whipped the machete off her back and hacked in one fluid motion. His body slumped to her left and a head rolled off behind a machine. She wiped the machete on his shirt and slid it back into the sheath slung across her back.

The two girls crouched behind an old green machine and stared as sunlight slowly filtered in through bullet holes high on the wall, creating orange sparkles in the acrid smoke. Miriam trembled, weeping, rocking and cupping her ears, while Amanda gripped bloody fingers on her arm, and stared, out of the darkness, towards footsteps coming back.

"Mandy, they're going to kill us. You're hurt."

"No, Miriam, we're going to get out. Just stay in the shadows and follow me!"

A black haired man in a suit walked past them, lifted his nose, and sniffed. He turned, stared at the machine, and stepped into the shadows behind it. Amanda swung her machete out of the darkness. A metallic clink sounded and his body slumped into a pile.

"Come on! Now!" Amanda said, and two girls skirted behind a maze of machines and crates towards a door.

Amanda put her hands on the push bar and shoved, leaving a red smear. The door creaked, lurched one-half inch, and slammed against the locked chains outside. The alarm wailed, four men turned, and a deafening metallic roar filled the room as they peppering the door and the wall around it with bullet holes.

Amanda dragged gaunt Miriam, crying with her hands on her ears, and said, "Come on! We have to run! Now!"

"Come on out little girls!" the tallest man yelled in broken English, "We promise we won't hurt you if you give up."

A shorter, stocky man called out, "Come on, make this easy and we won't go after your families. Remember, Miriam, we know where you live!"

Miriam silently mouthed, "No! Not my parents!" Tears washed gullies through the black grit caked on her face, and she wiped, smearing machine grease into the grit and dragging it across her sunken cheeks.

Amanda shushed her, staring under the acrid cloud of gun smoke which now blanketed the machines around them. She said, "Hush! They are just saying that!" She pulled Miriam behind another greenish machine beside a dark hallway, leaving a trail of red drops and footprints in the darkness.

She peeked under a greasy machine pedestal, machete in hand, and sniffed. She saw four sets of legs walking by. She waited till the last one passed then hacked right above the back of his ankles. He fell backwards, shooting into the men in front of him and then into the ceiling. She whipped the machete again the instant he hit the ground, and the thrashing stopped.

She picked up his gun, pointed, and jerked the trigger. It bucked in her hands and roared away, showering Miriam and herself with empty bullet shells. The barrel lifted, and belched out a long orange fireball, pouring through the men in front of her, climbing the wall towards the roof, and over her head.

Suddenly the gun went silent. She jerked the trigger, but nothing happened. She felt a swarm of hot stings attack her skin. She dumped the gun and clawed at the searing brass tangled in her hair, biting her neck, and sizzling inside her shirt.

Miriam writhed on the floor, screaming over the ringing in her ears, swatting at her back and neck, and scrubbing at the smoking shells tangled in own her hair and shirt as they burned white welts into her skin.

Amanda grabbed trembling Miriam and hauled her into the dark hallway. They flapped their clothing, releasing a clatter of hot brass from their shirt tails and pants legs. They crept from shadow to shadow, passing three more doors into the dark. She stopped to smell, but her nose was overwhelmed by gun smoke, blood, machine oil, dead hundjager, and the trembling Skalengek standing next to her. She saw sunlight streaming but her peripheral vision suddenly caught a red blink. She looked up and saw two cameras pointed at them.

"Go! Miriam! Now!" Amanda said and pushed her forward, towards a glass door.

Miriam ran ahead of her towards freedom. Her hands hit the push bar, she slammed against the door, and bounced. She rubbed her head and whimpered, "no, no, no."

A black blur flashed out of the darkness and tackled Miriam. Her head recoiled off the cement block wall and she let out a shriek. A big, dark haired Shackal wrenched her off her feet. He snapped sharp teeth, pounded a fist into her, and yelled, "Miriam? Where do you think you are going?"

Amanda charged two steps forward but felt herself slamming into the wall. She swung, slashed, and hacked with all her might, but watched men smash and pound until Miriam fell limp. She tore free and clawed one step forward just in time to watch Miriam's body disappear, dragged away, into the darkness.

She screamed, "No! Miriam!"

She thrashed, punched, and clawed, trying to force her way back to her friend. A dozen Hundjagers swarmed over her, pounding punches and kicks into her body. She stabbed and ripped claws through everything she could touch until she slid across the slick floor and watched the world slowly turn sideways. The stench of sweaty dog filled her nostrils and thick, salty, blood filled her mouth. She slid, clawed, and slashed, unable to stand. They gritted their teeth, snarled, kicked, and smashed.

A silent hurricane battered her head, chest, and sides. Her mind screamed at her arms and legs, but panic washed over her as she watched them flopping limp, thrown to and fro by wave after crashing wave. The entire world washed, swirled, and went black.

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