Chapter Four

The dark blue sedan pulled up and around the old warehouse, then came to a stop. The two front doors opened and the young men got out. Gunnar headed into the warehouse, while Jesse opened one of the back doors and motioned for Ralph to get out. Not wanting to endanger himself anymore, he capitulated and pulled himself out, wincing at the twinge in his knee. Jesse slammed the door after him, then grabbed an arm and practically dragged Ralph along.

Upon entering the warehouse, Ralph was immediately aware of an odd odor and he had a pretty good idea of what the odor was. He just hoped he didn't get high off the smell.

Methier, led by Gunnar, entered the room. Gunnar joined Jesse and each held onto one of Ralph's arms, more to keep him standing than anything else. Methier walked up to Ralph, smirking. "Well, isn't this a funny thing? You don't seem as tough now as you did during the contest, especially after you were worked."

This set Ralph off. "Worked? No, I know you were behind that. How did you do it? I made sure my board was perfect before I got to the beach."

Methier motioned. "Jesse, you're well-versed with surf boards. Why don't you explain to our guest what happened."

Jesse smirked. "It's amazing what a little acid can do to a surf board."

"Sabotage," Ralph said. "But why me? At the time, you didn't know who among the contestants might've been better than you."

"Because I've kept an eye on you. You were out in your backyard practicing every day," Methier said.

Ralph's eyes widened slightly, then he sighed. "Spying. Should've known."

"I like to call it scouting my opponents." Methier then leaned forward, getting only about an inch from Ralph's face. "I was supposed to win that contest and, thanks to you, I lost. I needed that prize money for my business. Now, because of you, I can't get my shipments out on time and my buyers are going to be very unhappy."

"I might have a little compassion if it was a legitimate business," Ralph returned.

"Maybe not to you, but it is to me." Methier moved back again, then turned his attention to the two young men. "Jesse, Gunnar, I think it's time we did something with this troublemaker. If you two would be so kind...?"

Gunnar nodded. "Right, Tim."

"You got it, boss," Jesse said.

The two men dragged Ralph out of the room and down a hallway.

"You know," Gunnar began, "this warehouse used to be used for meat packing and holding. All of the equipment is gone now, but, funny thing, the walk-in cooler is still in perfect working order."

Jesse nodded. "It really helps with keeping particular goods nice and cool."

"You're not going to get away with this," Ralph said, though it came out nowhere near as threatening as he'd hoped because of the cold.

They laughed, stopping by a latched door, which Gunnar opened. "Would you like to do the honors, Jesse?"

"Gladly," he responded, then shoved Ralph in.

He fell to the floor, his knee giving out in the abrupt action. Ralph turned to look back at them.

Gunnar smirked. "Now, don't enjoy yourself too much in there, what with all those lovely drugs surrounding you."

The door slammed shut and the latch being done on the outside could be heard.

Ralph slowly lowered his head onto his arms. "Damn."

The two men rejoined Methier in a back room where several crates had been pushed together, used as tables. A half a dozen rifles were spread out on the crates. Four more men entered through a back door.

"Our little friend has been put on ice, literally," Jesse commented.

Methier nodded once. "Good. He's going to pay for making me lose that competition... in more ways than one." He paused, glancing around at the men. "Now, we move onto the next step: preparing to ship out our goods."

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Meanwhile, Ralph was trying to find some way out of the cooler. He walked around the room, arms folded over his chest, trying to keep warm. It wasn't working and the cold was making his knee throb. But, determined to not give up, he continued looking for anything that could be helpful in getting him out.

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Bill practically had the gas pedal to the floor. They'd already stopped at one of the possible places that Methier could've been hiding at and found nothing.

Pam pointed ahead of them. "Turn there, there's an old warehouse down the street. It's the next closest place."

"Got it, Counselor." Bill turned the wheel and slid through the turn, causing a couple other cars to honk at him.

The Diplomat finally came to a stop, parked on the opposite side of the street from the warehouse. They got out, Pam holding onto the briefcase.

Bill pulled his service revolver from the holster and waved Pam around the back of the building. They found windows lining the walls, and knelt down to sneak past them.

They looked in one window where several men were loading crates, occasionally one leaving the room with a crate, then returning for another.

They continued along the wall. The next few windows revealed empty rooms. The last two windows, at the corner of the building, were frost covered.

Bill made a face as they stopped to look in. "Must be a refrigerated room."

"Those men we saw back there looked familiar. I think they were at the contest," Pam said.

"I was thinking the same thing, Counselor. My guess is Ralph's here somewhere--"

Just then a loud crash came from inside the refrigerated room. They knelt down out of the view of the window, as the door to the room was opened. Bill peeked in the corner of the window and saw Methier look around the room, then smirk, and leave closing the door behind him again.

"What was that?" Pam whispered.

"I'd say we just found Ralph. Come on, we'll try some of these windows back here. Less likely they'll be around," Bill said.

They back tracked along the wall, trying the windows. The third one down gave way and opened. Bill pushed it up and went in, then helped Pam in after him. They moved to the already open door and looked out. Finding the hallway clear, they moved to the left, headed for the corner of the building.

They stopped in front of the latched door. Bill pulled at the latch and opened the door. They were hit with a blast of cold air from the room.

Bill went in first, Pam not far behind, now hugging the briefcase to her. Bill looked around the standing shelves and stopped, holstering his revolver. He motioned for Pam. "Counselor!" he whispered.

Pam moved next to him. They found a small mess in the aisle from several boxes being tipped over and emptied. They also found Ralph sitting on the floor against the back wall, his good knee pulled up to his chest with his forehead leaning on it. The other leg moved slightly, like he was trying to keep it from stiffening up.

"Ralph..." Pam said, just loud enough to make Ralph look up.

He gave a half grin. "About time," he chattered.

Bill grabbed the briefcase and stepped over the mess, then dumped out the suit. "Time to get you warmed up, kid. Because right now, you being a human popsicle ain't gonna help us."

It took several minutes, between Ralph being almost half frozen and unable to put his full weight on his bad knee, to get him into the suit.

Finally, Ralph was in the jammies, while Pam held onto the jean shorts and polo shirt he'd had on earlier. Ralph shook his head, and still spoke nasally, "These guys are really starting to get on my nerves." They left the freezer room and went back into the empty room where Bill and Pam had come in.

"Only starting to?" Pam asked, with a slight grin. Ralph responded with a pained grin.

"Okay, boys and girls, I hate to break up the reunion, but we've got some bad guys to catch," Bill said.

"Right," Ralph said. "Any particular scenario you'd like to use, Bill?"

"The one where Ralph goes invisible and scares the garbanzos out of the bad guys."

"Oh, that one," Ralph replied, then shrugged. "Why not, we haven't used that since last week anyway."

"Cute, kid, real cute," Bill commented. "I'm starting to think I liked you better frozen. Now, lets go."

They walked down the hall headed towards the main room.

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