Disclaimer: See previous chapters.
HEY GUYS! WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAZUUUUUUUUUUUUUP!? Thanks everyone for your support...negative, and positive. Ahem. Sorry about that little "WHAZUP" spell. How's it hangin'? Sorry for another HUGE wait, but that's to be expected with me. ;;;; Anyways school started here, BAHHH! I hate it so. Well, thanks again for your reviews, and just to clear it up, I'm not racist. Enjoy the chapter!
--- (BAH! I hate that FanFiction won't let me use my little wavy lines or stars...-Sniffles-)
Bulma almost fell on her face as she was shoved into the room. She winced as she gained her balance and caught herself from hitting the ground. She sighed and trailed her hands over the marks of where the ropes had bound her wrists together, looking down at them, frowning. She lifted her gaze, which was met with three shocked stares. They first met with the sapphire blue eyes, before it trembled and broke, immediately coming to meet such dark eyes that they could be called black, and finally tore away and met almost luminescent green orbs.
The four girls stared at each other in disbelief. They had all been spread out, and now in only hours, were all together in the same room, eyes locked on one another, mouths agape. Chi-Chi finally broke the silence, adding a faint, saddened smile, "At least...we're all together now.."
The girls suddenly burst into tears as they rushed to each other, clinging to one another in a large group embrace. Even 18 couldn't hold back her tears. She didn't feel scared, but was happy. It had been so long since the four had been together, just the four of them. Funny how such a happy moment took place in such a small, dreary, dark room.
---
"What the hell are we going to do?!" Vegeta growled. The four distraught men sat in a circle on the floor. They had all returned to the frat after communicating on cell phones. It was about midnight. It hadn't taken long to conclude the fates of the other three girls. Krillin trembled softly. Goku felt numb. Vegeta was shaking with rage. Piccolo watched the three of them, realizing he had gone through every single phase that they were in. He almost laughed at the irony of it all, but not even a smile would come to his lips.
No one answered Vegeta's question. He stood impatiently and began to pace the room, still clearly enraged. "We had two guys with every girl, and now both of them are missing, too. Right from beneath our noses!" He slammed his fist into the wall. When it collided a loud noise sounded through the entire house, a loud empty thud. Piccolo numbly thought how it reminded him of his heartbeats. Cracks erupted from the striking point beneath Vegeta's balled fist, spreading like a thin web over the wall. He removed his hand, looking slightly discharged.
"What are we going to do..?" Vegeta repeated, though this time the proud prince's voice sounded as if it had been deflated of anger, and replaced with hopelessness. As he asked the question, he leaned back against the wall and sunk steadily down 'till he was seated on the floor, covering his face with both hands. Piccolo watched, knowing the position well. He closed his eyes.
Suddenly the phone rand and broke the sad, uncomfortable silence.
Happy for the interruption, Goku jumped to his feet to answer the phone. Piccolo glanced at the clock on the wall, a strange foreboding feeling rising within his chest as he wondered who the hell called this late. Goku picked up the receiver and held it to his ear, "Hello?"
"Hello, is Piccolo Damioh there?" Said a deep voice on the other line, a trace of a smile laced within the tone. Piccolo's sensitive hearing caused his ear to twitch. He heard his name and felt frozen.
"Who is this?" Goku asked, standing rigid. The others watched and listened in dead stillness.
"A friend of Piccolo's. May I speak to him, please?"
Before Goku had a chance to reply, Piccolo was standing next to him. The ice that had frozen him seconds ago melted away with his rage. He snatched the phone from him and held it to his ear, seething, "Hello?"
"Mr. Damoih...I had a feeling I could catch you up at this hour. Call it a hunch. I hope you enjoyed your e-mail." Piccolo's skin crawled at the grinning voice.
"You." Piccolo snarled.
"Yes, me. I'm flattered that you remember me."
"How could I forget? What have you done with the other girls?!"
"Oh, don't worry about them. They are enjoying their reunion with their old friend. Your good friend, Karina. She's not alone anymore, Mr. Damioh."
"You act like that is supposed to comfort me. Well let me tell you something, you bastard, I won't rest until they are all free from you, and living regular lives.
He heard the man chuckle and click his tongue. "Tisk, Tisk, Mr. Damoih. Do you think calling me names is good for their health?"
Piccolo was silent. The tone of the man's voice was glowing with a sinister hint of a smile. "That's what I thought. Now, is our date still on for tomorrow night?"
"You bet it is."
"You haven't been a very good boy. I know your friends know about me. Didn't I tell you not to tell anyone? Why do you think I brought the other girls along for the party?"
"I didn't tell them, they overheard."
"Either way, they know too much. And you can relay the message that they better stay the hell out of the business between you and I if they ever want to see their pretty little girls again. Understood?"
"Yes..." Piccolo murmured.
"If I so much as see one of them there tomorrow night, their girls won't be in a good predicament at all."
"I understand."
"Good. Just wanted to clear that up. See you tomorrow, and remember, no friends, weapons, cameras, or recording devices. Have a wonderful night, Mr. Damoih."
Piccolo hung up before he heard the click ending the connection on the other end of the line. He sighed and sat heavily down again. The others sat silently as he relayed what had been said.
Vegeta was outraged. "IT TURNED INTO ALL OF OUR DAMN BUISNESS WHEN HE KIDNAPPED BULMA AND THE OTHER GIRLS!"
Krillin said softly, "It was always our business, even when he first took Karina."
"I don't care," Goku said meekly, "We can't go. They'll hurt them."
"I won't stand for this bull," Vegeta snarled, fists clenched. "I want to go tomorrow--"
"No," Piccolo growled. "Only I can go. It's too dangerous otherwise."
"It's dangerous for you to go by yourself!" Vegeta argued.
"DO YOU WANT ANYTHING TO HAPPEN TO BULMA!?" Piccolo suddenly exploded. Vegeta was silent. "That's what I thought. You can't go, or else something might happen to her, or the other girls."
"Then we are still in the same mess as before." Vegeta growled.
"All we can do is wait and then I will go alone." Piccolo said, mumbling.
Goku's face suddenly lit up, "Wait...I have an idea."
"Oh no..." Vegeta shook his head. "Kakarot, your ideas are stupid and useless. And...usually involve chickens..." He sweat dropped.
"Not this one!" Goku pouted. "It's a good one..."
"You better not even think about saying we should dress up like women again..." Vegeta warned, looking frightened and frightening all at the same time.
"No way!" Goku said. "Pleeease, just hear me out!"
"Well, let's hear it." Piccolo said. 'We must be really desperate...' Piccolo thought, a sweat drop sliding down his temple.
---
Vegeta worked fretfully to unwind the tangle of wire in his hands. Finally he succeeded and placed the round, small speaker in his ear. He traced down the curly black spiral of wire with his fingers, pressing it against his neck and chest as he did so, removing all the slack. He stuffed the excess wire beneath his black sweater, and clipped a small microphone to his turtleneck. "Are you sure this is going to work?" He turned to Goku questioningly, trying to smooth the small bump of the wire between his chest and the fabric of his sweater.
"Nope!" Goku replied, with an air of happy innocence, as if he were a small child, preparing to play a game. He pulled his black sweater on, which was almost identicle to Vageta's. Krillin sat on his bunk in the frat. bedroom, already decked out in all black clothing. He pulled at his collar uncomfortably, "Guys, this suit is getting really hot..."
"Okay, okay," Goku said impatiently, as if annoyed that he was being rushed in his fun. He pulled on a black beanie over his hair with difficulty, finally managing to stuff it into the hat. "You wired yet, Krillin?" Goku asked as he set up his own device under his clothing. Krillin nodded.
"Okay, we have to test them now." Goku said. "Let's all go into different rooms and then turn on your device." They agreed and walked out of the small, stuffy bedroom. Once spread out in various places around the house they turned on their equipment. They were silent. Goku checked the small box attached to his hip, seeing the red light peek back at him. He spoke clearly into his microphone, "Can you hear me? Over."
"Yeah." Krillin replied first.
"Loud and clear."
"Good," Goku said happily. And don't forgot to use over at the end of your transmissions. Over."
"Do we have to?" Vegeta asked, seeming incredibly annoyed at it.
Goku's face was crossed with a stern pout, "YES! Over."
"Righty-O. Over." Came Krillin's voice.
"Don't say that again, Krillin." Vegeta said, seeming to sigh as he spoke. After a short pause he added, "...Over."
"Okay, meet me in the living room. Over." Goku said.
Minutes later they all sat on the couch. "We need to come up with code names now." Goku stated matter-of-factly.
"What?!" Vegeta was incredulous. "Kakarot, this isn't an idiotic child's game. This is serious."
"I AM serious!" Goku pouted. "You never know who could overhear our conversations through lost radio transmissions..." Goku's eyes shifted about once with suspicious gaze. Vegeta just sat, and Krillin chuckled nervously.
"Who is going to know who the hell we are, Kakarot?"
A brief silence followed the question. Then Goku said, "They'll find out who we are sooner or later. You can't trust people you don't know!"
Vegeta sighed at the hopelessness of the situation. "Fine," He said in a defeated, yet calm tone. "We'll do your stupid nick-names." He looked up in regret. 'I can't believe I'm doing this.' He thought regretfully.
---
Piccolo walked, hands in his pockets, down the dark alley. Only a few dashes of light lay across the wet streets. The rain had fallen all day, and puddles gathered in pools all about. Piccolo stepped carelessly into them as he walked is path, his black converse shoes getting wet. Usually, Piccolo was a very clean person. He didn't like to get his clothes wet or dirty. Especially his shoes. But now, as his heart thundered in his chest wildly, silent to the rest of the world, only one thought was in his mind. It was the night of the meeting. He would see Karina at long last.
He was a bit afraid and apprehensive about it, yet at the same time overjoyed. He would see her alive, and that would be enough. But he didn't know if she would be alive and well. Piccolo knew that her treatment during the kidnapping had been less than pampered. He hoped she wouldn't be sick. He knew against all odds she would look different, weak and probably thin. He knew it would hurt him to see her in such a condition, but just to see her again set his heart alight with anticipation.
He stopped abruptly in his walking, facing a dark, red-brick building. The walls were covered in worn graffiti, names of numerous forgotten gangs marked only to never be recognized. The damp door had a faint number on it, the white peeling paint of the numbers now gray with age. "723." He stared almost in a dumbfounded manner at the three numbers, feeling frozen and numb. Water dripped ceaselessly into a puddle from the top of some unknown building, the rhythm of the endless poink of each drop seeming to be slowed ten times it's real pace, matching the beats of Piccolo's heart.
He turned suddenly, his ears twitching a bit. He had known that despite the deserted look of the alley, that he had never been alone in it. From the moment he stepped into it, he had the ominous undeniable sense of being watched. He had turned at the faintest noise, a soft whisper of some sort, interrupting his frozen silence. It might have only been the soft sound of the wind breezing through the alley. Piccolo highly doubted that.
He had parked his car a block away from the given address, then walked along the front-side of South Black Street. It was a very beat-up area, and he heard rats scurrying from the over-flowing trash cans flanking the walls, ready for pick up. Graffiti splattered randomly on the blackened walls, many of the doors framed by cement entry-ways and steps. Despite the run-down area, people were everywhere. He was watched by countless people on their cement front porches and steps, the age range of the tired and dirt-looking people ranging from old to as young as six. He was wearing loose blue jeans, black converse high-top shoes, and a plain gray sweatshirt. He felt utterly alone despite the many people around him.
When he had rounded the building to enter the alley, he felt suddenly as if he was not alone. But it wasn't a good feeling. It was as if he was being monitored, every movement, every breath. He knew he was close.
Now, as he stood before the door, the aged gray and weathered numbers seeming luminous against the dark brown--almost black peeling paint. He had no doubt about if he were at the right place or not. To him, it seemed as if the evil on the other side was pressing heavily against the thin wooden door, the only barrier between it and him. And he could since a faint small light amidst the blackness son the other side. He knew Karina was there.
Though knowing wasn't enough. He knew, yet still he had an overwhelming need to see her alive, to see her alright, to hold her in his arms, to feel her heartbeat pounding against his chest. He looked at his wrist watch after pulling back his long sweat-shirt sleeve. The second hand ticked passed 12, and the minute hand clicked to the 30 mark. The hour hand rested firmly on the half-mark between 11 and 12. Not knowing any other way to announce his presence, though he had a very strong feeling that it was already known, he lifted his fist to knock. Three strong and brisk knocks seemed to echo in his ears, and even though he saw his hand make the movements, he never felt his knuckles touch the rough wood. He was numb all over.
---
Goku floated high in the night sky, shivering slightly. The air was thin and it was a little hard to breathe. He rubbed his arms together in an effort to warm himself. He listened to the soft sound of never ceasing wind blow through the brilliant city below him. He was high enough to see to the horizon all around him, but not so high that people were too small to see below. He watched as the people, not little specs, but distinguishable figures, moved about the streets in the night. The stars weren't visible from all the light pollution, blocking out the natural light above. The city looked like a galaxy of stars itself, a night sky of winding constellations stretched out before him like a huge, 3D map.
He felt lonely floating there alone in the air. He knew the other two were also staked out in different locations, but still felt as if he was completely and utterly alone...
Frowning softly he reached into his pocket, past the walkie Talkie clicked to his belt. He withdrew a small 3x4 Polaroid picture. (I don't own Polaroid) He smiled softly as he viewed the image. It showed Chi-Chi and him asleep innocently on the couch back at Chi-Chi's old house. It had been a few years ago, during high school. Bulma had dropped in, and curious as to why she received no answer when she knocked, since she had planed with Chi-Chi earlier to meet there, let herself in. She had found the couple sleeping, and grinning took their picture. The flash woke them up, but their soft sleep and the calmness off their slumber had been captured on film.
He had been behind Chi-Chi, his arms lightly around her in a protective manner. Chi-Chi had rested her back on his chest and stomach, her cheek turned to touch his shoulder lightly. Goku swallowed. An image flashed to the front of his mind and consciousness.
Chi-Chi was shivering in the dark, huddled in the corner of a small room. It was dank and cold. Her arms encircled her knees which tightly were pressed against her chest in an effort to stay warm. She was fragile and breaking--right before Goku's eyes. But he couldn't reach her. There was an invisible barrier between them, blocking his path to her. He cried out to her, only wanting to see her lift her head and look at him, to reassure him with a soft smile of happiness at seeing him.
Goku was gripping the picture so tightly in his fast that he suddenly realized he was ruining it. He released the pressure on it and spread out the wrinkled picture in his palm. He stroked it softly for a brief moment. If only he was there with her now, to protect and hold her, to keep her warm and safe. His eyes fell to a building below him. He saw a flash a green pass through the alley behind it. It was only a brief instant. It had gone from the shadow of one building to shadow the building he had looked at, and in the short distance between the two, moonlight lit the green object. "Piccolo..." He murmured. He flew to the south side of the building. He saw him. He was darkened by the shadow of the building, but he was at a black door, standing there, waiting. Goku suddenly felt a chill run down his spine. He had lifted his fist to knock.
Goku suddenly knew. In that building, he knew Chi-Chi was there, hostage with the other three girls, helpless and scared. He was hit with the strongest impulse to zoom down to Piccolo and help him barrel in, take on all the men within the building, no matter how many there were, 'till they reached Chi-Chi and the girls, and would carry them out and save them, triumphant and alive again. But reality awoke his senses, and he knew he could not move from this position. Showing himself would mean certain bad things for the girls.
He watched as the black door opened, revealing only a blacker opening. He disappeared inside. The door closed again. Goku suddenly felt even more desperately alone. He reached to his belt and took the walkie talkie off, bringing it to his ear and mouth. He pressed the button down. "Come in Hothead and Nohair. Come in. Over."
He waited and released the button for an answer.
"Hothead here, over." Came Vegeta's voice.
"Are you in position, over?" Goku asked, depressing the button once again.
"Yes, over."
"How about you, Nohair?" Goku asked.
They both waited momentarily. "Nohair??" Goku tried again. He felt a empty pit growing in his stomach with every silent second that ticked by. He cried frantically into his walkie talkie, "Is anyone out there?" Vegeta remained silent on his end of the walkie talkie. Second by second, it was getting harder and harder to breathe.
---
Piccolo walked into the dark room. He was greeted only with the open door, the open passage. No man had shown his face, no voice had greeted his arrival. Inside, it was even darker than in the alley. It was dead silent. The humidity in the room almost became unbearable as his heartbeat slowly thudded numbly in his head.
The lights all around suddenly snapped on. Piccolo didn't even attempt to cover his eyes in shock, even as the lights blinded him painfully. One man stood before him. He wasn't tall, he didn't even look threatening. The black man stood in a neat, black suit, with a business-like air, his hands behind his back casually. Piccolo was hit with a sudden strong since of recognition. He had seen him before. And a second later it hit him like an elephant falling onto of him from a 60 story building.
He choked out the name, his lips barely able to form the word, "B-bob?!"
Bob the bartender smiled. "I'm glad to see you recognize me, Mr. Damoih."
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Review please! Sorry for the slowness of updating! ;