Their bored footfalls echoed around the silent dock, only drowned out occasionally by a sweeping wave against the wooden peers. Modo took a quick glance around, noting nothing different accept he was now passing warehouse fourteen rather than thirteen. Though it's dark, concrete design was just the same as twelve, eleven, ten…
He glanced behind him at the shivering human female. Her head hung low, and the chilly breeze caught at the long strands of dark auburn hair that hung down over her face. The strands would waft back momentarily, showing her slightly tanned features. High arched brows that were furrowed in silent thought with a long oval face, and lips unique to the species of human females.
He turned his head away; acutely aware he'd been studying her for too long. She seemed a contradiction in every way possible. She was not as tall as Charley; in fact she had to be at least half a head shorter. Her body was more toned and smaller, which gave her the appearance of fragility. Though she seemed more than capable to look after herself, bro she hasta be. She's a cop after all.
He studied the warehouses once more, this time number fifteen. There were no lights on at all. Don't any of these places believe in security guards? Just as he thought it, his eye caught a small light glaring out of the next warehouse.
A small booth with windows taking up half of each of the four wooden walls; inside sat- what Modo believed to be- the fossil of all security guards. He was probably older than the dinosaurs and looked it. "Hallelujah," he glanced at Jez grinning toothily, knowing she'd vocalised his own thought.
Kicking down the bike's stand, Modo approached the booth. He stopped mid-stride turning back to face Jez. "Maybe you should go speak to him." He could see she was already thinking the same as him.
"Maybe you're right."
The sweet voice held a definite air of sarcasm. Modo watched Jez push herself away from the bike she'd taken to leaning against at every opportunity. He watched her jog up to the booth, placing her hands in her jeans pockets before stopping in front of the nearest window. Watching her pull one hand out and tap on the window to attract the attention of the very observant guard.
He watched her talking animatedly through the window to him, his ears, sensitive as they were, could not quite pick up what she was saying. He shifted uncomfortably as her hand came up, pointing in his direction. He hoped the absence of light on the tarmac hid his features.
He looked away as the wind changed direction slightly, bringing a heavy mechanical noise drifting towards him. He peered in to the dim distance, picking up four lights. It had to be some sort of four-wheeled vehicle, two lights were much higher and he assumed they were lamps of some sort mounted on a top bar.
"Hey," he turned swiftly almost drawing his arm cannon. "Relax, man." He gazed down at Jez his ears, although inside his helmet, listening at the approaching vehicle. "Mr attentive over there," she flicked her head in the direction of the booth, "says we can use the phone inside the warehouse, his is only a direct line to 911." She rolled her eyes at that, and he grinned at the irony of it.
He gazed back out onto the pier; the lights and engine noise were gone. Maybe they turned off somewhere? He rubbed the back of his neck; his instincts were trying to tell him something, what exactly that was he had no idea. Shrugging he grabbed lil' hoss and kicked her stand up following the detective.
"How did you explain me?"
She turned around, walking backwards. "I told him the truth. That you were severely disfigured" Her voice dropped low and sounded very sympathetic towards him.
"Disfigured? I never heard anyone call me that before." He glanced down at his metal arm; I guess that's what I am though. He pulled his metal arm back, keeping it straight at his side.
They both walked steadily towards the warehouse. Modo purposefully kept his gait slower, trying to stay a few steps behind Jez at all times.
Modo could hear the slight trickling of some of the oil still escaping. He was loath to leave Lil Hoss outside, yet he knew she was leaking gasoline as well. Which could be a hazard depending on what was kept in the warehouse?
The security guard stood, albeit stooped slightly, by an open brown metal door. His cap slipped over his head, shadowing his features. Modo felt the need to rub his neck again when his gaze settled on the security guard. He ignored his feeling and instead parked up his bike.
"The phone's just in there."
Jez nodded her thanks; she turned swiftly on her heel. Looking up at him, "are you staying or coming?"
His gut told him to say that he'd wait outside. His head argued that he was being overly paranoid now. Besides, he didn't relish getting a lift home with the police. Deciding that it would be better if he phoned Charley to come pick him up, he replied to her question. "I'm comin'."
"I'll keep the door open for you two, and an eye on your bike."
Modo nodded to the security guard. He had the urge to dip his head until he could see the old man's eyes. He preferred to see eyes, rather than talk to a black cap.
Walking steadily by, he followed Jez in. She was turning her head in both directions looking for the phone. He also scouted around for one.
"Where the hell's the phone?" Jez turned around slowly,"hey Mister—"
The loud 'clunk' told him that the door had been slammed shut. He turned quickly; his large strides bringing him to the door. He leaned against it with his shoulder, applying pressure. The door didn't budge. Pulling back he rammed his shoulder in to it. The familiar metallic noise that he knew resounded in the doorway. It was a sound that belayed the metal as being thin, yet tough. Something that wasn't man made. It was Plutarkian made!
"What the hell is going on?"
"We're locked in."
"I got that part. I mean, what the hell is going on?" She spoke slower, accentuating all her words.
Modo swept his hands up removing his helmet. One brow arched up, his red eye unfocused trying to understand her question. Though part of his brain was also irked at being trapped, again, and her sarcasm towards him.
"Did you miss something ma'am?"
She turned swiftly from the crates she'd been staring at. Her brown eyes locked with his. "What do you mean by that?"
Keep your cool, bro. It ain't her fault we're in this trap. He slid his tongue over his buckteeth, "well you asked me what was going on." He strode towards her, his hand absently rubbing the back of his neck. "I jus' figured, ya know maybe, that you had been standing here when the door slammed." He turned so his profile faced her, one hand stretched towards the door. Blatantly showing her the obvious.
He turned back at her theatrical sigh, watching as she ran both her hands through her hair, pulling it back from her forehead before turning it loose again. She then clamped her hands to her hips, her lips set in a tight line. He could see she was restraining her temper; her muddy brown eyes were starting to turn a shade lighter.
"What I was asking is why? Why are we locked in?"
"Hang on, I'll just go ask the security guard, ok."
"There's no need to be so sarcastic you know. I was asking a simple damn question."
Simple, that's definitely the word I would've chosen lady. He refrained from voicing that thought, his mamma's words echoing through him, always be polite and don't take your worries out on others.
He looked around; finally taking in the surroundings they were encased in. Wooden crates, square, rectangle, some piled higher than him. Though nothing else, and from what he could see, they were set out in a maze of sorts.
Morri jumped down from the parked Humvee staring at the stooped figure that walked towards him. As the form of the old withered security guard stalked towards him, his pose straightened showing his real height. He pulled the black cap from his head, shaking free white hair that rested on his shoulders.
Morri grinned intensely, "Boss!" He spoke happily, his thirst fro revenge rearing itself.
The figure stopped before him, "Our guests are trapped like the proverbial rats in the maze, Maurice. You may begin their slow torture."
Preacher ambled passed the group, whistling to himself.
Morri hoisted his gun up, "let's go huntin' boys."
Jez leaned against the wall; she had inspected the warehouse briefly. Large rectangle crates lined three walls, whilst smaller crates of differing shapes made up a maze of sorts that led to the other side of the warehouse where a small round table stood. Nothing was on the table but her instincts told her that the simple piece of furniture played an intricate part in figuring out why they were locked in the warehouse.
Jez lent her head back against the cold wall; the biker stood near her staring angrily at the locked door as though he were daring the door to unlock itself.
"Do you have a name?" Jez asked wearily.
The biker folded his arms across his barrelled chest his head cocked to one side. She smirked at him, she could see him weighing her up just as she had done earlier.
"Modo."
He spoke quietly, his large round ears moving with every noise in the warehouse. Jez held out her hand, "Jez."
Modo looked down at her hand before accepting it and shaking it slightly. They quickly returned to the silence of before.
Breathing out deeply Jez pushed her self from against the wall and strode over to Modo, she bit her lip in worry. "Can I ask you something?"
The biker turned, staring down at her, he nodded. "What happened to you…" her voice drifted off as she pointed to his head.
The biker turned away from her, and she could feel his glare on the door. She watched his shoulders rise with a deep breath before sagging morosely. " Lost my arm and eye in a war."
Jez frowned, ok we're definitely on two different wavelengths here.
"What I meant was, how come you look like a giant rat?"
Jez jumped back as he turned fast, she readied herself just in case her instincts were wrong and he was a bad guy after all. "I ain't no rat, I'm a mouse."
Jez raised her brows until they almost disappeared into her hairline. "A mouse? You mean as in an actual mouse?"
Modo nodded his demeanour once more calm and relaxed. Jez stepped forward, "so, were you like…created, ya know…in a lab somewhere?"
"NO!"
Jez knew she was prying, but there wasn't really anything else she could do. "I'm just curious that's all." Her tone sounded hurt despite her best effort to hide it.
She stalked away from him, once more leaning against the hard wall. "I'm a mouse, a Martian mouse."
Jez shut her eyes, I so did not hear that.
Jez opened her eyes. She stared at Modo, "look I'm sorry for prying, and I shouldn't have done. But please don't be another crazy who thinks they are from another planet, ok."
"I know it's hard to believe, but that's what I am."
Jez opened her mouth to say something but a laser burst hit the wall next to her, showering her in sparks and concrete. She ducked down crying out in surprise. The biker was by her side instantaneously his strong arms sheltering her as well as dragging her away from the firing line.
A deep laugh echoed around the warehouse. Jez tried to peek out from beneath the mass of muscle that covered her but Modo had her pressed tightly between his body and a large crate.
"Well now, don't you two look cosy." Modo raised himself up, Jez watched as the small, powerful laser cannon slid up out of his metal arm. She was granted breathing space as he raised himself up onto one knee his only eye scouring the warehouse.
"Don't worry rat boy I'm not about to shoot either of you yet, it wouldn't be very sporting." Jez listened carefully trying to pinpoint the voice. She tried to steady her loud breathing.
"I take it you've already scouted this place, and I bet you're wondering what we got planned for ya, right?"
Jez looked up seeing Modo listening as intently as she was. "It's pretty simple. The Rats navigate the maze, and if they make it through the maze alive they'll find a reward at the end of it."
Jez pushed at Modo's body trying to see more but he refused to budge. Giving up, she shouted over his arm, "what kind of reward."
A high pitch tune wailed through the warehouse. Jez recognised the tune, "hey, that's my cell phone."
"Precisely detective. Whoever reaches the end of the maze gets to phone home."
"Whoever?" Jez stared up at Modo, he'd voiced the same question that resonated through her own mind, finding something ominous with the way the sentence was expressed.
"Yep, whoever, meaning that only one of you can reach the end, if you both make it, we'll just shoot one of ya and the other gets the phone."
Jez slumped back against the crate, "in other words we're screwed either way."
"I am afraid I still do not understand, my dear Preacher. If we have one of those diseased rodent's captured, why are we calling his comrades to come rescue him?" Limburger shook jelly-like in his chair that disappeared under his barrel-shaped frame.
Preacher did not turn to face his employer; he stayed where he was admiring the view. His body leaning casually against the metal frame of the huge windows that dominated Limburger's office, his arms folded tightly against his white collarless shirt.
Limburger drummed his fingers restlessly on his desk, wanting desperately to know Preacher's reasoning for the phone call that his new henchman had placed a few minutes earlier. Limburger stared at the back of Preacher, his large eyes narrowing as he reminded himself that in a lot of ways he had been much better off with Greasepit in charge of the goons. Limburger always knew he had a weak stomach, and Greasepit gormless to a fault that he was, never murdered anyone and took pleasure from it. Limburger found himself thinking the thoughts that had plagued him for a week; the realisation that not only was he not in control of this strange man, but he was no longer in control of anything that happened in his building.
Throttle threw done his black leather vest onto the saddle of his bike. Vinnie was hyped up, the white mouse anxious to go find the warehouse where his bro was being held.
Charley stood wearily in the background. She'd hurriedly thrown on her pink towelled dressing gown. Vinnie had made more than enough passing comments about her state of dress, but luckily for her, he was now concentrating on the fun ahead.
"I don't get it, who phoned and how do they know about us."
Charley shook her head, spilling her chocolaty hair into her eyes. "I don't know, Throttle. But this smells like one of Limburger's traps."
Throttle turned to her offering up a smile, "hey don't worry babe, when has any of those fat cod's plans ever worked."
Charley wasn't easily placated, "Throttle this man didn't sound like any of Limburger's goons. We have to consider that this might not be one of Limburger's plans."
Charley knew her words were falling on deaf mouse ears. Limburger had played this trick too often, and he had been very quiet. But something nagged at her, something that she couldn't put into words. "Just be careful you guys, OK."
"No sweat sweetheart, we'll be back in time for breakfast." Vinnie jumped onto his bike starting the engine, which growled with the same vigour. Charley didn't roll her eyes. She didn't have the heart; she couldn't push away the nagging feeling that this wasn't right, that they were only being shown a small piece of a puzzle.
Throttle pulled his vest on, and then mounted his own bike. "Don't worry Charley-Girl, we'll be fine."
Charley hit the switch to raise the metal doors of her garage and watched the two Biker Mice roar off into the quiet night.
Modo sat beside a small crate his one eye taking in the dark ceiling where any of Limburger's goons could be hiding. They'll pick us off easier than shooting fish in a barrel.
"We have to chance it." Modo looked over to the young detective, his protective instincts were at full thrust and he had already suggested her staying behind. But, she'd pointed out they could easily shoot her here outside the maze as they could inside.
Nodding, Modo stood, offering his hand to Jez. He helped her up and they started to move towards the maze. Modo made to move in front of her but she nudged him aside and they walked side by side into the maze.
Throttle gunned his engine as he hurtled past Limburger tower. He didn't even spare a glance at the beige and white building that was still lit up despite the time. He bared his teeth in anger at Limburger; opening his clutch he sped off towards the docks silently promising payback to Limburger.
"Why?"
Modo looked down at Jez; he shook his head in puzzlement. He couldn't understand it either. They were nearly halfway through the maze and they hadn't heard a peep from the goons.
Modo could smell the tenseness from them both. He could handle guns blazing, but the not-knowing why, part was making him edgy.
"Maybe they realised killing a cop would only lead to more prying in their affairs."
Modo didn't buy her words, he knew Limburger too well, and he knew for certain that Limburger would just buy his way out of any problems. Not that stinkface would ever allow him self to be linked to this.
"You know, I've had enough of this, I'm not goose-stepping around anymore with these wackos." Jez stomped off and Modo reached out to pull her back, just as a laser bolt hit the spot she'd been heading towards, Modo pushed himself against the side of a wooden crate, Jez wedged behind him. "That's probably what they are waiting for, ma'am. For us to get careless and do something stupid."
He didn't wait for Jez's reply as his own weapon slid into view. Judging the direction of the laser fire he jumped out into the small corridor of the maze and fired towards the ceiling before jumping back against the crate.
Silence returned to the warehouse. "Well that worked."
Modo turned and stared down at the detective, he shook his head in dismay. The way things were going, he felt that the goons wouldn't have to pick one of them off; he may just strangle the detective himself.
Throttle ran his finger over the leak in Lil' Hoss's engine. Modo would never have left his little darling out here unless he had a really good reason.
Standing up Throttle indicated to Vinnie that all was clear. He'd already sussed the door was Plutarkian Glass Steel, so they couldn't enter the traditional human way. Guess we'll have to enter the Biker Mice way!
Sliding his thumb over the nuke nuts glove on his right hand to activate them Throttle swung a punch at the concrete wall and it gave way with a thundering crash.
Jez jumped at the crashing noise behind them. Modo held her still; his warm breath tickled her ear as he whispered to her. "That'll be my bro's now."
She was led back the way they had come and quickly they neared the entrance of the maze. Jez stopped herself forcefully, she didn't even move when Modo walked into her from behind. Stood before her were two more giant mice just like Modo. Except one were white and the other a sandy colour.
Looking up at the towering grey mouse she pointed at the two other mice and asked, "your bro's?"
Modo nodded enthusiastically down at her, a feral smile on his lips. He walked past her and grabbed the outstretched wrist of the sandy coloured mouse; Jez smirked at the male bonding moment, disappointed that all males from all species were just the same as Human males with their macho attitudes to each other.
Glancing back at the maze Jez turned rapidly and took off into it running full out.
Throttle was more than glad to see Modo alive and well. He was kinda disappointed that his bro wasn't in trouble. His glance had taken in the young woman who had been stood before Modo looking a little shocked. "Glad to see your still in one piece, bro."
Modo nodded, rubbing his neck. "Yeah, I don't know what Limburger's game is with this little get up."
He indicated the towering crates set out in a maze; Throttle peered around Modo at the maze just as the young woman disappeared back into the maze. "She gotta plane to catch?"
Modo turned on his heel and ran after her, Throttle followed; he could hear Vinnie's footfalls right behind him. Before they'd had a chance to get through a third of the maze they almost collided with the young woman coming back. She held a small cell phone in her hand. "They're gone."
Her face was set in a puzzled frown while she spoke. "Why the hell would they book out, they could have taken us all out?"
Throttle looked from the woman to Modo. "Bro's, you get the feeling that we're missing the bigger picture here?"
The Biker Mice turned as one and ran towards the entrance all yelling the same word. "Charley!"
Vinnie tore down the highway, his red rocketsled bike growling against the dangerous speed. Throttle was behind him riding pillion with Modo, Modo had not thought twice about leaving Lil' Hoss behind. The woman who was with him had shouted that she'd take care of the bike.
She had sensed their urgency. They had no worries about leaving her behind; she was already dialling for backup as they sped away. So Modo's got a cop on our side.
Neither Vinnie or Throttle had heard the full story, and Vinnie wasn't interested. He should have known that Stinkface and Grease gullet would try something like this. "Well, guess I'm just gonna have to ride in there and rescue Charley-Girl myself, again."
Vinnie was happy to finally be able to pound off the adrenalin that was gushing through his veins.
Charley sat still, facing her bedroom wall. She dared not speak, not move. She wished the Greasepit were before her, not this cold man.
Charley watched as he stood leaning lazily against her bedroom wall, a small switchblade in his hand that he flicked in out, whistling a slow song. She recognised the tune, and it chilled her, Nearer my God to Thee.
He was dressed like a preacher from the old western films her father used to watch. Black boots, black trousers, a three-quarter length black coat and a crisp white shirt. Charley feared him, she had never feared Greasepit, or Limburger they were too inept to be scary. But this man, he instilled terror in her. His face made him look in his forties, and his shoulder length white hair.
"Can you hear them yet, Charlene?" Preacher had stopped whistling, his voice soft, almost whispering to her. "Are they coming to save you again?"
Charley felt stung by his last question, she was being used as bait to capture her friends –as the tall stranger had said- again.
"They will pound you for this."
Her words must have amused him, for he genuinely smiled, making his face youthful. "I doubt that will happen, Charlene."
He stepped forward making her jump slightly, his catlike movements were deliberate, he knew she was afraid of him and he was using it to his best advantage.
"Tonight, I have been given the opportunity to learn much about your friends. So now, I return the favour and give them the chance to learn something about me. And you sweet Charlene, shall be my lesson to them."
"And what lesson is that?" Charley had to ask, her curiosity turning morbid. Fear for her life was a reality tonight.
"Ahh, that would be telling."
Preacher grabbed her towelling robe and pulled the belt free. He picked up her wrists squeezing them in one hand, before looping the belt around her wrists and tying her hands together tightly.
"Have you ever experienced true pain Charlene? Have you ever been so alone, so frightened, wanting only to make peace with your soul because you know the outcome?"
Charley tried to push herself back up the bed, her head shaking, and her eyes wide with terror. "No," her voice sounded so pleading to her own ears and only served to make her assailant smile more. Before she could react, he had grabbed her wrists. Charley shut her eyes, screaming. She felt the cold sting of something run across her wrists; she looked down to see a slicing gash on each wrist. It was as though her entire body had frozen in that moment. Her pale skin looking so fragile, then a scarlet pool of liquid welled up and started to seep out of the deep cuts.
Charley screamed hysterically, pressing her wrists against her chest trying to staunch the blood, she looked up with pleading eyes hoping her assailant would take pity on her.
Preacher flicked off the lights in the workshop, closed the door and walked into the night whistling his favourite song. The wind caught his jacket, making it flare out ruffling behind his back. He pulled it together, buttoning it. Still whistling his favourite song.
Vinnie skidded to a halt outside the garage, he leapt form his bike, and pushed open the door. "Charley-Girl!" He yelled worriedly into the darkness. He did not expect the frightened, panic stricken voice that screamed for him.
Taking her stairs two at time Vinnie reached her lounge, he could see a form huddled on the floor of her bathroom. Her hands clasped to her chest. Vinnie saw the red smears on the floor of her lounge that led into her bathroom. He ran towards her, her tear-stained face looked up at him. "I can't stop the blood, it won't stop!"
She was in shock; he had seen it before in hundreds of mice on Mars. Grabbing a towel from the rail, he untied her hands gasping as the blood trickled faster from her wrists. He didn't speak, he couldn't. His precious Charley-Girl could die, now was not the time for fun-lovin' Vinnie.
Tearing the towel in half he tied each segment tightly around the gashes. The door of the garage opened banging against the wall. "Bro's up here."
Modo and Throttle's footfalls thundered up the stairs, and he could feel them behind him as he finished administering his first aid. Not wasting time, he placed one arm around her shoulders, the other scooping under her knees. Lifting her, he walked towards his shocked bro's. "I gotta get her to hospital."
Modo and Throttle stood back letting him pass.
Vinnie made it outside and with Modo's help got onto his bike. "I'll be back soon."
He started his engine and with Charley cradled delicately in his arms, her harsh cries now soft whimpers, he rode off towards the hospital.
Despite his slower speed, Vinnie made it to Trinity Hospital quickly. He got off his bike and carried the unnaturally quiet Charley towards the hospital. Cops surrounded the A&E entrance. A lot of youths were gathered with them, being questioned, probably all from some gangs that had gotten rowdy this night. Vinnie couldn't chance causing a scene and he couldn't chance any questions.
Hating himself, he kneeled down, resting Charley on the cool grass of a small knoll on the other side of the road. Pulling off his helmet, he grasped Charley's face. Her skin was cold to the touch, her eyes glazed. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, "I love you Charley-Girl." He whispered against her brow. He slid his lips down to hers, and kissed them quickly. Standing he slid his helmet on.
Standing on top the knoll he shouted towards the police. "Help, there's an injured lady here."
Vinnie watched the cops take notice; one ducked his head into A&E before running towards him. The cops had to cross a busy main road to get to Charley, which gave Vinnie time as he ran down the hillock, mounted his bike, and with a lingering look started his engine, speeding away before his nerve broke.