Protection Detail Chapter 28: Hearts of Steel, an uncharted series fanfic

- Chapter Twenty-Five -

Hearts of Steel

Sharp in his hand as he gave the jagged piece a squeeze, a second pane fell from the top of the cracked frame. Cutting through the damp breeze like a guillotine and shattering into little more than dust and splintered shards, the quality of the non-crystalline product left a lot to be desired. While disappointing, given the history of the building it wasn't entirely surprising.

Glimmering like faded gold in the angelic glow escaping through the cast iron clouds, the man gazed at the rubies beading along the edge of the glass. Today was just one thing after another, with no end in sight.

Could the day just end already?

[Earlier That Day]

Reconvening at the bike in silence, Nadine and Sam finally looked at each other for the first time since leaving Ronnie's apartment.

Job far from finished, learning the identity of the punks that had snatched his paycheck was a descent start. Having a location on where to start the search was another break, yet it wasn't nearly enough. Nothing would suffice until she was back in Sam's custody, as per the contract with her mother. Urgh, he could only hope that the businesswoman heard tell of this little hiccup AFTER he had claimed his reward for keeping her kid safe.

Until that happy moment, all his expertise in the matter told him that they would need a plan for getting into the building. Everyone in their circle had at least one major find under their belts, this was just the first step in that process. On a technical level, schematics of the old police station uptown would be nice, so that was where Chloe could come in.

Cagey about the possibilities, in Drake's mind Nathan and Elena had been bothered enough by this venture. Frazer wasn't rusty, and she didn't have a family on the line. Anyways, it was the least the woman could do. Mistake nothing short of monumental, getting them what they required would be a start on the road to making amends.

Phone secure and intact for another day, the more experienced fortune hunter still felt a small sense of relief when he brushed against the device. There were some pretty choice photos that he hadn't quite gotten around to backing up, so it would be a shame to lose all that hard work... if you could call that work.

Digging deeper in his pockets for the keys, he figured that Nadine could handle filling Chloe in. The pair were close, so she was probably much higher up on the speed dial for the former merc.

Besides, with her busy on the phone that gave him a window to peruse through the internet to research who they were up against. Assuming that they weren't thick enough to squander the opportunity of having the Adler heiress in their clutches, seeing any kind of demand wasn't likely. Not straight away at least. But kids these days were dumb enough to post all kinds of incriminating evidence to their social media accounts, so one never knew. To be fair, information dumps weren't limited to the young...

What ever happened to finesse, a little thing called discretion?

Voice level, if the ex-con hadn't known any better he wouldn't have guessed that she had just beaten the ever loving crap out of the scumbag for information. Then again, this was Nadine Ross, so he kind of expected her to always be menacing some poor sap.

Pivoting slightly to the side for a sense of privacy, the woman initiated the conversation. "Wyatt?"

Okay... so that wasn't Chloe.

Unless she had changed her name in the last hour or so and had only told the former mercenary about it. While highly doubtful that the duo would conspire to pull something that idiotic at the time being, or ever for that matter, the more pressing question was who the hell was this Wyatt character? And why was Nadine calling him at a time like this? "I don't really think this is the time for a booty-"

Holding up her finger, she shushed the thief mid-sentence, "I have an update on the situation."

Rude much?

[Mother and Son]

"Reliable?" Unfortunately in the world it was never quite as easy as just trusting someone at their word, even if you wanted to. Survival the name of the game, certain compromises had to be made, but for the soldier it was still a question worth asking.

In their lines of work it was all relative, so she humored the familiar train of thought. Information obtained through an effective combination of intimidation and assault, in this instance Ronnie could be trusted at his word. Not that that did much to comfort her worries. "Ja."

Not exactly rocket science, Wyatt could tell by the way his mother hesitated that it wasn't so black and white. "Ronnie?" Truth be, there were plenty of other rats that could have filled in the blanks, but the odds of that were slim to none. That sick bastard had his ear to the ground even in his sleep, so he knew what had happened almost as soon as it went down.

"Ja." A small unconscious reaction, the former mercenary inclined her head ever so slightly when she confirmed the source. "Turns out that the two who took the Adler girl are part of the Orange Tiger Association after all." She consciously ignored Drake when he scowled at her for discussing who the missing person was. He would get what was coming for him, but in the meanwhile there were more important things to focus on, such as actually getting the heiress back. "Do the names Angel or Ashley mean anything to you?"

He knew the names. "I should have guessed when you called me earlier."

Surprise obvious as it was in her voice as it was on her face, the woman wished that Wyatt would have said something sooner if he had had a hunch. However she didn't mention it; in fact, she justified his lack of suspects as a matter of quantity. It was a sizable city after all, and who knew just how large the organization really was. "Oh, you've heard of them?"

"Ja." The pair - Angel in particular - had given him more trouble than he cared to admit. "My advice moving forward is to gather a team so we can strike them and get the Adler girl back. A small team." Easier to move quietly.

[Same City, Same Sam]

Listening to the audible side of the call as his thumbs kept scrolling through trophy shots, Sam waited for Nadine to hang up before launching into an abridged version of twenty questions. Contrary to popular belief, the thief did know when to keep his cake hole shut. Sometimes, it was just really that fun to irk the adversary. The bruises afterwards not nearly so...

But today that wasn't Nadine, so he waited patiently for his opening.

"Care to share with the rest of the class?" Glancing up nonchalantly from his phone as if they had all the time in the world to waste, the brunette played it cool.

Frankly he could care less who this person was and what the connection to Ms. Ross entailed. He was merely concerned about the bottom line. Well, that wasn't strictly true - Sam was also weary about if they should be worried about every scumbag in the business jumping on the trail or not. With Daniella's picture plastered across every available surface these days, he felt like it was only a matter of time until people started getting bright ideas.

Dreading this moment from the look that flashed across her face, the woman steeled herself for the impending insults. Usually his words weren't anything more than an annoying fly that needed to be swatted away, they both knew that, however this had every appearance of being serious. Maybe he would throw her a bone and try to chill it with the snark, maybe...

Thumb lingering over the call button, the former mercenary's first instinct was to clam up. This was clearly very personal for her, but with all the stalling the historian knew that he had to hear it now. Aware that she wouldn't be shown mercy, Nadine took the plunge without further hesitation. "On the way to Ronnie's I called a contact that knows a thing or two about the Orange Tiger Association."

"Wyatt." It was one thing for these punks to go around with a single name and get away with it, but Nadine was the sort that would surely require something more substantial than a single name to go by. "I trust he has a last name to go with that?"

"Ross."

A single syllable explained it all to the thief, however that same answer had opened a floodgate in his head.

Broken for a moment, he questioned who would be dumb and/or crazy enough to hook up with fury and muscles over there. Aside from Rafe. And Chloe? And quite possibly Victor...? For whatever reasons those two got on remarkably well, which he found to be highly suspect, especially after everything that had happened. Also why was this the first he was hearing about the kid? Continuing the line was kinda major, easily something that ought to have come up in conversation before now. Or had it been brought to light before, and he just hadn't been listening? Sounded about right for him.

"As in related?" To be fair, Ross wasn't an uncommon surname.

Kind enough to confirm that she was an only child, there seemed to be something akin to relief in the words, but perhaps that was just Sam's imagination. "My son." He guessed that she didn't get the chance to say that often.

To her credit, the woman had recently raised an interesting point that he wasn't exactly eager to explore. Reluctant as he was to visit the possibility, he had to wonder if maybe he wasn't the only one being haunted by their favorite deceased psychopath. Either way, that was no reason to drudge up something that was clearly a big deal for the mercenary-turned-treasure hunter. He wasn't a complete monster.

Faced with a choice, Samuel scoffed as she dialed up Frazer, "If the kid expects any money out of this, it's coming out of your share."

[Captive of the Old Station]

Everything had happened so quickly, a moment to digest it all was probably what the doctor would have ordered. Key words being 'would have', Daniella had no intention of sitting idle and waiting to be rescued. What was she, some damsel in a video game? Bound and unconscious for too long, the young woman had grown listless and had to move about if she were to keep her mind. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins, so for the moment she was nigh invincible! Only trouble was, that was a temporary state, so she had to make the most of her situation.

Terms discussed in a civil enough manner, as a show of good faith Jian had had her moved to a new location. Despite being issued in Mandarin, the command had been in the form of a code. Playing up the feeble card (as if it was much of a lie), he ultimately ordered her taken elsewhere. At least, she thought it was elsewhere... It was rather hard to be sure when a bag had gone back over her head during the transition to keep her from getting her bearings.

Cooperating in that she allowed herself to be escorted into the new cell, she wasn't deluded enough to get confused about where she stood. Hands rough over raw cuts that had been wrapped too tight, shoved this way and that, it was just as disorienting as when she had been brought to interrogation. More than once the young woman had felt the barrel of a gun press between her shoulder blades; the first time had been purely threatening to keep her line, which would have been understandable enough without the downward zig-zag motion. Yet she had gone without a peep, stepping when prompted and sitting as directed.

When the suited goon removed the blindfold from her eyes, the last thing she had expected to find was herself seated at an old desk. Honestly it reminded her of being brought to the principal's office. Only much more severe.

Surmising that this room had once been an office of some kind, the elevator ride suggested that there were multiple floors. Logic dictated that having natural light and a view would be more productive to employees, so she wasn't underground. Being shut away in an upstairs office was just the break the heiress needed. No longer shackled to a chair at the mercy of Angel and Ashley, almost anything would have been an improvement, but this... this was practically the royal treatment!

Minds games feeling like an old friend at this point, though she seemed alone Daniella wasn't dumb enough to believe it. Ordinary folks that found themselves in this position were probably monitored for the duration of their stay, and she was special. For better or for worse, the heiress couldn't pretend otherwise. That was a part of the reason why she loathed liars - she envied them for every moment they could change their truth.

Seated for a reason that was probably as simple as keeping her down to take the hood off her head, she remained in the hard interview chair opposite the window. Waiting just long enough to be polite to anyone that might be coming to speak to her, when it dawned on her face that she was alone for the first time since being abducted, Daniella took the opportunity to assess the damage.

Angel's patch job had begun to cut off the circulation, so she attempted to wedge her nail between skin and bandage to loosen the woven circlets. Not only had that not worked, she'd succeeded only in jabbing her finger too far and too deep, causing a whole new wave to spurt out against the cloth. Definitely not a part of the plan!

Leaving it be with mild nausea (her guess being that the cause was substantial blood loss) and a persisting throb, her hands had moved from her various injuries to the untended marks of Ashley's game. It hadn't seemed intentional, but in hindsight the heiress had to wonder if the pre-game ritual hadn't been the purpose all along. Either way, the marks looked an awful lot like a the letter 's'. Not surprising, given all the times she had been called a slut.

Frightened of how mangled she would be once everything was said and done, the young woman laid her hand against the outermost part of her thigh. It hurt enough to bring a dampness to the outer corners of her eyes, but it was worth knowing that she still had feeling in her legs. What wasn't encouraging was that her hand had come away wet, and it wasn't all blood. Of course she had pissed herself - anyone would have from how horrifying the ordeal was (not to mention the lack of a proper bathroom break), but being on her period on top of it all was just the icing on the cake.

"Of course I have be bleeding from the inside out." Being that time of month wasn't a newsflash by this point, but so much had been going on it had slipped her mind.

Time running low to capitalize on the fear she'd endured, the heiress groaned to herself and began to search the room. Stain obvious once she took a better look at herself, if anyone came poking around while she searched, she could simply tell them that she was looking for something to help with the bleeding. It would be harder to sell to a woman or someone with a sister or wife or whatever, but not impossible.

Barren as the halls on moving day, there wasn't a whole lot to find. Expecting as much, she knelt down under the window and curled up in as tight a ball as her body would allow. Sun at an angle that only hit her knee and toes, she subtly used her vantage point to better examine the area for exploitable weaknesses.

Carpentry wasn't exactly a hobby, but she had learned as a child how to appraise materials and their approximate ages; oddly enough math had come in handy, as had working in the community with the less fortunate. Walls revealing the station to be older than most codes, the wear in the frames confirmed that not a lot of renovation had gone on upstairs. Maybe in the whole building, but she only needed to concern herself with this one room.

Late afternoon come and gone, the evening glow was building towards the kiss of dusk, however there was still maybe an hour to go. That was good - night would offer some cover at least, however being God knows where in unfamiliar territory, there wasn't such a thing as sanctuary. But Daniella couldn't give up. Not there.

Act at an end once she felt like she had learned all she needed to know, Daniella rose from her position on the floor. Slowly at first, she was mindful to not telegraph her plan in case she was being observed in real-time.

Turning to the window as if she'd meant to watch the sun set on her hopes, the heiress found that this cell was on the second story. Miffed that she had had a bag placed over her head when it was so easy to discover that she was two floors from the ground, Daniella clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Really?!" Obviously this was better than some basement or whichever, but that bag stank of dried vomit and sweat, as if it had never been washed.

Back to the sights, there was an entire row of offices across the street, but odds were that even if they had anyone working them, she wouldn't find any help there. Window unadorned and unprotected, it appeared that this was the tower for Rapunzel and anyone else that lacked the drive to escape. Too bad for them that that wasn't her. Not any more.

Hand pressing into the transparent wall between this and freedom, the young woman twisted away from the light and retreated back into the heart of darkness. Head hung low as if to hide tears, she stumbled to a gradual stop. Praying that the bushes planted beneath the windows were enough to cushion the fall, she ran at the window with everything she had.

And promptly bounced off the glass.

Okay, so maybe she should have tested the strength of the barrier out better before just going for the gold... And better adjusted the trajectory of her jump - part of the failure laid in her miscalculation of accounting for her present condition when lunging. Not a mistake she would make again! Aware that the noise would have been enough to rouse anyone that might have been guarding her room, she picked herself back up and tried again.

Bourne high on invisible wings, carried by fight and weighed just enough against gravity by the fear of getting caught and paying the price, she made it. Whole body thudding against the glass the first time, this time she was soaring through the air...

[Angel]

Another case of wrong place, right time, Angel was on the way out when it happened. Or perhaps it was right place, wrong time? Eh, same difference. Ash was practically at the hip - as was only natural and right - and a call came in from an outside number. On edge with Ashley after today's session, maybe the brutalizer was just looking for any excuse to snap, but before any kind of identification could display on the screen, it was World War Three.

Eyeballs in danger of popping out behind Bootsy shades, the color red was invading every last corner of the world. "Really?"

Ignorant of what was brewing, Ashley took the call. "Go."

Unable to get over what had been said in front of the spoiled little princess, anger was all that was coursing though the bloodstream. Thankfully for Ashley, there was something stronger keeping it at bay. For the moment. They hadn't fought in a while now, so this felt like a dozy. "They can't even wait for you to get off of work now?"

Out for blood as a rule, for Ash's sake Angel took a step back to calm down. "You know what? Forget it. I can't be near you right now. Have fun with... whatever or whoever that is. Just don't call me tonight."

Ashley was too quick to take the offer. In truth Angel had been more on the spectrum of irked than actually angry, but that reaction certainly had done it.

Storming off to be alone, Angel had only made it so far as the street when the phone rang. The only difference between this and what Ashley had done was that this was still work. They'd incorporated a system to know when they could leave the phone or when it was time to answer, all with three different ring tones. Work was serious and to the point, where as anything not related to the job was given something jazzy. For one another, they'd busted out the lyrics that hit the other right in the feels.

"It's hunting season." Tone cool, the boss said what needed to be said and hung up.

Clever slut. Curious as to how she had managed to slip away, Angel returned to the scene and headed back upstairs to the last place she had been stored. Ashley was doing business with one of Jian's guards at the elevator, so stairs it was. That was fine, it gave the girl that much more of a head start.

Once a standard office for the moderately successful inspectors, there was no mystery as to what had transpired in the demoted cell set aside for the more upscale guests. Going to the window to investigate an open and shut case, it was every early action movie ever when Angel stepped through the broken wreckage to get a better grasp on the damage.

"Run fast princess." Amused enough to almost root for her if this had been a movie, Angel picked up one of the larger remains of her handiwork.

"Run fast." Speaking to no one in particular, he smirked at the hole that she had left behind.