Minx woke up in a blindingly white hospital room, with a bump on her head the size of a small galaxy system. She started to get uneasy when she realized that she couldn't remember a thing about how she'd gotten here, and why her head hurt.
A couple of hours passed and finally a nurse walked in. She was black, tall, and round. Graying and in her fifties, wearing a pair of granny spectacles carefully placed on her nose. She looked like a woman who could beat even the toughest of criminals senseless with her purse. Minx smiled groggily to herself, picturing the incident. "Tonight a man was whacked to death by a graying old woman's imitation Gucci purse. FBI is currently raiding several bingo parlors in the Tri-valley area." She laughed out loud causing the nurse to give her a suspicious look. But then Minx sobered as the bump on her head pointedly throbbed. She cursed under her breath. Minx met her eyes then focused on sitting up in bed.
"How did I get here?" She asked suddenly alert.
"Well around three a.m. last night some thug brought you in here, said you fell down a flight of stairs and needed patching up." She paused to give her a look of 'yeah right.', then shrugged and got on with the story, "Coarse you don't get wounds like yours falling down the stairs. So after we asked him who he was and most of the nurse staff was finally satisfied, he dropped you off with us and left." She said, ending in yet another shrug.
Minx ran her hand through her hair, absently pulling at a knot that was being stubborn. "Who was he?" She asked as conversationally as possible.
The nurse gave her a weird look, "Said he was your boyfriend, although I didn't quite believe him. Guy like that," She gave a shudder, and screwed up her face, "Couldn't bag a girl like you."
Minx shrugged, "What did he look like?" She asked urgently, glancing at the door every few moments.
"5'9", all black clothes, walked with a distinct limp, had a British accent. Slightly overweight and had a very crooked nose. Smelled of booze and cigarettes."
A few minutes later she was out onto the street in front of the hospital, heading back to go get her rook sack in Dana's apartment. She knew she shouldn't but it was everything she owned, including weapons, which now she felt like she needed more than ever. She felt helpless and vulnerable without them. Just their reassurance seemed like everything.
She raced up the steps, relieved that she knew Dana. She could trust her, even with her life. Dana had been the sort of 'underground rail road' for Deo's identity ring. Dana had all the connections, smarts, skills, and technology to smuggle someone off the planet in under 72 hours, and yet no one ever suspected some prostitute in a brothel to know anything more than the obvious. It was her cover and she used it well.
Minx knocked on the door of her apartment quickly while looking around, and scanning her surroundings. Everything was quiet, almost too quiet.
After a long silent moment Dana pulled open the door. Her pale face looked relieved as she exaggeratedly rolled her eyes in relief and quickly pulled Minx into the apartment, her red curly hair flying furiously.
Locking the door behind her, she turned to look at Minx. "I'm so glad to see you, I came home and you were gone." She said softly, giving her a hug, and then suddenly pulled away, her eyes were wide, "You gave me a heart attack! What the hell happened to you?! All I got was this note that you were taken to a safer place by a friend. At least you could have told me were because I really"
"Wait a minute a note from a friend? What?" She asked, confused.
Dana nodded, "My reaction exactly, I knew you wouldn't just leave like that without telling me who, or where. So automatically it was something that made me worry."
Minx nodded her approval. "Look so far all I remember from last night was the door to my room getting flung open, hearing a riffle click and then everything went black."
Dana nodded, listening contently, her brow furrowed, it always did in cases such as this one. "Then this morning I woke up in a hospital about an hour from here." Suddenly Dana's eyes went wide. "What?" Minx asked, suddenly alarmed.
Dana just shook her head, "Never mind no time for that now, go on, and quickly." She urged.
Minx sighed shakily, her body on a fighting alert, her senses high, and her awareness like a bat's in the dead of night. "Well I asked the nurse and she told me the guy that brought me in last night claimed to be my boyfriend and said I fell down a flight of stairs." She paused to take a quick breath, then continued, " She described him as 5' 9", all black clothes, walked with a distinct limp, had a British accent. Slightly overweight, and had a very crooked nose. Smelled of booze and cigarettes." She threw up her hands, in a gesture of utter puzzlement. "My only guess is that he's a merc."
Dana nodded quickly, "Well the weird thing is that a guy fitting that description was seen with a guy who looked exactly like D-" But suddenly the doorbell rang.
A look of uncertainty spread across her face, as she shoved Minx toward the closet, "Don't talk just listen, in the closet there's this hidden compartment, a little door that's shaped like a lopsided triangle, turn the latch and hide inside, it has a," She paused as the door gave three more urgent rings, "Just a minute, I'll be right there." She turned and looked back at Minx, then lowered her voice once again whispering, "There's a built in screen in the wall, just feel for it, inside there's also a door that leads to the closet in the apartment next to mine. Two more secret doors on your right in that secret passage, and you will get to the outside hall way. Whatever you do, DO NOT TURN ON ANY LIGHTS!" With that said Dana pushed her into the closet and shut the door.
Minx moved forward, putting her hands out in front of her to feel for the wall or the compartment instead she felt something suede and familiar in shape, her rook sack! Throwing it over her shoulder she moved forward until her left hand hit a crack in the wall. Her fingers trailed down, and found a gap, putting her fingers quickly into it and finding a discreet hinge.
Moving her right hand further along the wall she found a second crack. Mimicking her previous move she trailed her fingers down, to find it was yet another angle. But this time it was longer then the last, a lopsided triangle. She gently pushed at the crack on the right side and it immediately gave, silently traveling until it stopped.
She folded herself into the tiny pace, holding her breath while silencing a groan from stretching her already aching body.
She now felt for the computer screen and thankfully found it quicker then she had the door. Slowly she swiveled it around to face her. Soon as it was in place it flickered to life, instantly displaying a screen split into twelve individual boxes all surveying a miniature view of Dana's apartment. The last square showed a miniature version of the closet near the front door where the secret compartment and she was hidden.
She swallowed as she felt a cold sweat form on her upper body, seeing who had come into Dana's apartment. Standing at an average height and wearing all black clothes, he walked over to her living room, his walk uneven.
As he sat down in Dana's over stuffed leather chair his stomach bulged out. Minx hit the button labeled zoom and angled it so that she zeroed in on his face, his nose was crooked. Then as if to confirm her intuition the sound kicked on.
"So who are you? I'd like a name before you search my house!" Dana said smartly, her body in a fighting stance.
"Me names George Taylor, sweet cheeks" The guy pronounced it Geeorge Taylah, a British accent. It was the Merc from the night before. Her blood boiled, the only thing she hated more than going to prison was mercs. They were one group of heartless killing machines.
Minx watched as the Merc moved throughout the apartment, Dana on his heels. At last, he returned to the door that he'd come though, looking disgusted and thoroughly pissed-off at his obvious non-eventful raid.
He was about to leave when he pointed to the closet next to the front door, "Forgot one," He smirked, she froze as she watched him walk over to the closet door and open it. She spun the monitor around and turned on the tips of her feet barley clearing the opposing wall. She fanatically felt for the other door that led to the outside hall. She finally found it in front of her then gave it a slight push. Just like the other, it gave.
She pulled herself through and was about to move forwards when her boot got caught between the door and the wall. She gave her leg a tug and felt her boot come free just as the door to the secret compartment began to open. She closed the door to the hall when suddenly the door began to move. Minx's eyes widened as she looked for something to prop it closed with but nothing was around.
She did the only thing that came to mind and laid on her back, placing her feet firmly on either side of the door. It began to move once again, she pushed forward with her legs, bracing herself with the back of her arms to immobilize her. She stayed as still as a rock, keeping her legs locked, as the Merc gave the door another trying push, she applied more strength to her legs, stopping the door from moving. Her legs began to burn as the pressure on the opposite side of the door gradually stopped.
She leaned back as the pain shot through her body, then pain killers they had given her at the hospital wearing off again. She rested her head on her rook sack then her head hit something metal. Turning her body at the waist she reached into the sack, and pulled out two mini crow bars. She dropped her head then felt like a fool for forgetting they had been there. She stuck them back in the sack, knowing if she used them to prop the door closed, that no one on the other side could get out, and that could prove to be fatal in a situation like hers.
She pressed on, ignoring her aching joints and tingling wounds. Minx remembered Dana saying something about two more secret doors on the right would lead to the outside hall way. She counted two more doors and pushed the third, opening it, and sure enough it opened onto the outside hall way.
She looked down the hallway in both directions, deciding it was clear she began to walk down the hall. Then from behind her a familiar British accent caught her attention. "She's gone, we only have 48 more hours to find her ass and bring it back to the boss."
Suddenly she felt eyes beating into her back. "Hey!" He yelled after her, as she began to run. "You with the rook sack."
She knew that it would give her away. Such was the price of fashion. She thought cynically, picking up the pace while desperately trying to come up with a half baked plan. It didn't have to be intricate or clever, just something that would save her ass and fast!
She rounded the corner as her brain snapped into overdrive. She pushed a man into the elevator hoping it would throw them off, but only the backup was fooled, not the British one.
She cursed and then rounded another corner, almost colliding with a repair man on a ladder doing something with the tiles on the ceiling. That's when she noticed, it was one of those cheap office building ceilings were the tiles only stayed up there by resting on thin metal strips. She heard the sound of someone running from around the corner and saw the opening in the ceiling.
She climbed around on the other side of the ladder and stepped on the very top of it hoisting herself up into the ceiling. She bit her lip as she felt the tiles shift under her weight, they could easily fall down at any moment.
She held her breath and prayed that the tiles would hold her weight. Hearing nothing she slid open the tile under her, sure enough there was the Merc looking around. She felt something sink as the tile crashed to the floor that was supporting her right leg, drawing his attention up. He saw her and shot up into the ceiling missing her by one tile about a foot away. Damn.
He fired five more shots sending plaster flying everywhere. Her eyes stung and watered as the excess attacked her eyes, making her loose her balance and send another tile falling to the ground nearly missing his head.
He quickly moved out of the way, when she put the two together and began wiggling the tiles loose and sending them falling down on his head. "Let the games begin!" Minx screamed in frustration. He dodged the first three then took the next two clean on his balding head. It took another three to semi-knock him out.
Just as she began to move, the other tiles and metal strips gave out, sending her falling to the ground. She looked behind her only to see the other Merc coming around the corner. She struggled to her feet once again, and felt a strange sense of de ja vous.
Running down the hall she looked out a window to see a garbage chute. She turned her eyes back in front of her, ready to run but stopped abruptly and read the sign, Non-fire incinerator. Good.
She eased herself into the chute, sending her down a kiddy type slide. She saw day light quickly approaching. The sun reflected off the polished metal and blinded her eyes. Closing them, she sensed more then saw herself land in the pile of garbage bags. With a soft thud behind her, came her rook sack, giving her a hit on the back of the head.
She swore violently, getting tired of running from mercs, ending up flying down multi-story buildings and always landing on her ass. She felt her body starting to shut down, her sight blur, and her limbs go weak. She pushed fatigue aside and climbed over the edge of the dumpster, heading toward the space port.
Two weeks ago she had contacted her uncle, a man named Hocks who was in the freight business. He agreed to help her to get off the planet in exchange for her working on his commercial freighter.
She was headed to the stealthy but seedy Nebula 10. It was a deep space planet that when it was found was never recorded on the legal star maps, therefore the mercs were oblivious to the fact that it existed. There she could at least be among her own, maybe even start up the identity ring again.
She wove in and out of the crowd. Although there were some uniformed monkeys, there were about twice as many couples, and through it all she felt someone's eyes following her every move. She stopped and went down a dark baggage container. She waited a full ten second then reemerged, breathing easier when the second pair of eyes had disappeared.
She made her way up to the reservation desk where a ridiculously perky blonde greeted her. It was like she snorted caffeine in between customers or something and Minx was definitely not in the mood.
"May I help you miss?" She asked a permanent toothy grin on her pencil thin lips.
Minx's stomach clenched, as she remembered the first time she punched someone very much like the blonde before her. She gave 'Stacy' a fake smile of her own, feeling sick to her stomach.
"Yes, I need to check on my cabin on the Lone Star, number 305." Minx said almost matching her sweetness. Stacy nodded her head and typed into the computer in front of her.
A look of confusion spread across her face, "Hum, that's odd the compartment has been cancelled, just this morning. I'm Sorry." She said.
"What?" Minx said, anger creeping into her voice.
"Yes. A man called and cancelled it just this morning. Some guy with a British accent." She said looking around the space port as if to find him. Minx could only nod. Now what was she going to do? She thought turning away from the desk.
She found a Comm station and called Hocks, just as she was about to dial the number, the chair she was sitting on was knocked out from beneath her.
She struggled as they pined to the ground, but nothing worked, whoever it was, was twice her size and then some. She couldn't see who it was because when they pinned her, her face was to the floor. She felt her arm pulled straight as a needle pierced her skin.
In a few moments her whole world went fuzzy, and with her last coherent breath in she realized the air smelled of booze and cigarettes.
