Meditech Laboratories opened at nine. By the time a white-coated lab assistant unlocked the front door for the day, Cam and Hunter were already sitting at the curb, waiting. The technician frowned at the sight of Cam; with his pallid skin and bags under his eyes, he probably looked like a drug addict to her. Hunter ignored the woman's stony gaze and instead inquired how to go about getting some equipment tested for traces of an unknown substance.
A few minutes later, they were met by one of the laboratory's chief technicians. The price for a 'private analysis' was hefty, but they agreed to it without complaint. According to the man, it could take anywhere from one to three hours for the results to be in, so Cam and Hunter settled down for a long wait in the lab's waiting room.
When the technician entered the waiting room two hours later, Hunter literally bolted from his chair.
The news wasn't good. With an apologetic expression, the lab assistant said, "I'm sorry, gentlemen, but the results came back inconclusive. We ran the test twice, but the results were the same. There was definitely something on that dart, but the little bit of substance left was already decayed too much to analyze." Seeing the crestfallen expression on the two young men's faces before him, the technician sighed. "I'm sorry," he repeated before he handed Hunter back the ziplock bag with the dart and retreated.
Setbacks…
Cam and Hunter had no time to dwell on the depressing events. Almost as soon as they stepped back into Ninja Ops, the computer's monster alarm sounded through the subterranean chamber. Lothor, intent on just a little more pre-Christmas destruction, had sent another one of his creations into downtown Blue Bay Harbor. This time it was a cross between Terramole and Toxipod. Hunter snorted derisively.
"Great. Now Lothor's recycling his old freaks."
"Well, let's send them back to the intergalactic junk yard where they belong," Cam said. He reached up to touch his amulet, but Hunter put his hand over his.
"Cam, I think you should sit this one out."
Cam frowned. "I refuse to be put on the sidelines by this!" he exclaimed hotly.
"You're not going to be on the sidelines," Hunter countered. "You're going to be exactly where we need you most. Right there." He pointed to the computer. Cam mumbled something unintelligible, but plopped back down into his desk chair to contact Blake and the Winds.
Hunter cast a worried look at the back of his partner's head, but covered it with a half-hearted smile and an affectionate squeezed of his shoulder when Cam looked up. Then he morphed and streaked out the door to join his teammates for the battle.
Encounters…
Up against five Power Rangers with several days' worth of frustrated energy stored up inside them, Lothor's combined creation stood not a snowball's chance in hell. The punch-, kick- and sword-slash assault lasted a total of five minutes and concluded with the Rangers turning their backs just before the monster exploded in a fireball of molten orange.
They were just about to turn back around to survey their work when a high-pitched whirring sound made them all pause. An instant later, a long black arrow struck the ground a foot away from Dustin's boots. The Rangers instinctively jumped aside, but the silver, rectangular object tied to the arrow's shaft didn't explode.
Dustin looked closer. "A cell phone?" he exclaimed, puzzled.
"Up there!" Blake cried, pointing a gloved hand and the team spun around in unison to see a black-clad figure perched on top of a building across the street from them, holding what appeared to be a crossbow. The figure moved to retreat, but Hunter was faster. The Thunder Ranger's hand shot up and a bolt of crimson energy had the mystery man stumbling backwards, crying out in pain or surprise.
It only took a second for the team to streak to the top of the building, but by then the figure in black had already scrambled back to his feet.
They stared at each other for half a second across the rooftop before Tori drew in a sharp breath, followed by the rest of the Rangers.
Not ten yards away from them stood a Water ninja, dressed in the familiar black leather uniform of the Wind Ninja Academy, complete with cowl and leather mouth cover. The crest of the Water element was plain to see on his jacket. Of his face, only two Asian eyes were visible and they were staring at his five opponents with a mix of apprehension and scorn.
The Rangers' frozen shock lasted only a moment, but it was long enough for the mysterious ninja to reach into his jacket. An instant later, he was holding a small unidentifiable object in front of him. The Rangers moved as one, but it was too late; the ninja threw the object to the ground and was instantly engulfed in a thick wall of smoke.
By the time the Rangers had crossed the few yards of rooftop, the ninja was gone.
Tori's visor retracted as she looked around the dissipating smoke and when she met her friend's gazes, her clear blue eyes were full of shock, anger and bafflement.
"Meeting" Morales…
"A Water ninja?" Cam shook his head, incredulous. "Are you sure?"
"He wore a Water ninja uniform, and I don't think they're selling those at the costume stores in town," Hunter remarked and Cam was just about to cast him a wry look for his sarcasm when Shane spoke.
"Besides, he was using a ninja smoke bomb, so yeah, he was real."
Sensei was pacing back and forth on the computer console, his whiskers twitching in apprehension. "This is a most disturbing development. To not only find out that there is another survivor of the academy attack out there, but to see him so obviously on the same side as our enemy – possibly even being the enemy…"
Another minute or two passed during which numerous speculations were made as to the identity of the traitorous ninja - or sensei - before Tori noticed that Cam was warily staring at the cell phone in his hand. The Blue Ranger waved her hand, pointing at the small silver device.
"And then this...what's with the phone, anyway?"
"I assume that's the missing note," Cam said. "It finally got delivered."
"Well, does it have a message on it or something?" Hunter asked. "Or a number to call?"
Cam flipped open the phone and began to press buttons. "Let's see…no stored phone numbers, no history of incoming or outgoing calls." Suddenly he paused. "There is a text message."
Hunter and the others moved closer. "What's it say?"
Cam stared at the phone's screen. "It says, Cameron Watanabe, when this phone rings, it would be in your best interest to answer it."
Cam looked up to see six worried faces staring back at him. So much for the thin thread of hope that their mysterious enemy did not know their, or at least Cam's, real identities.
After a moment of depressed silence, Dustin said, "So what now?"
Cam reached under his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose – something he had been doing more and more lately. "We wait for the phone to ring, Dustin. Not much else we can do."
They spent the next hour in tense anticipation. Shane and Hunter sparred with each other to relieve some stress; Dustin was flipping disinterestedly through a sports magazine; Tori simply stared into space while methodically chewing each fingernail to pieces; Sensei was trying to meditate, although he fidgeted so much, it was clear that peace of mind was a lost cause today. Blake chose to pace incessantly along one side of the command center, pausing only every now and then to kick at the wall while Cam was trying to keep up the illusion of working on the Zord schematics that filled the computer screen. After a while, however, he didn't even try to hide the fact anymore that he was merely pointing and clicking aimlessly.
It was almost a relief to finally hear the cell phone ring.
Cam forced himself to let it ring twice before he picked it up.
"Cameron Watanabe?" The smooth, baritone voice from the other end did not wait for confirmation. "How are you feeling after seventy-two hours of no sleep?"
Cam gripped the phone tighter, his heartbeat accelerating. "Who is this?"
"How does A concerned citizen sound?" The voice now held more than a trace of mockery. "After all, with all those monster attacks lately, it is worrisome to know that the Power Rangers team is not at a hundred percent."
Cam was in no mood for games. "Cut the crap. And don't make this sound like a social call. Who is this?"
"The only one who can make you fall asleep again," the taunting voice replied.
Cam took a deep breath. He wasn't sure if what he was about to do was a good idea, but..."I am not playing your game, meaning that I'm not continuing this conversation until I know who I'm talking to." And with that, Cam cut the connection.
Five clean-shaven and one furry face looked at him incredulously.
"What're you..."
Cam held up a finger in a 'wait a sec' gesture, and his wildly beating heart had barely slowed down when the phone in his hand began to ring again.
"I don't take kindly to being hung up on!" This time the caller was no longer smug or falsely polite.
"And I don't take kindly to being ambushed and injected with whatever poison you have shot me up with," Cam countered sharply. "Now, you obviously have a reason for all this, so just cut to the chase and tell me what it is you want from me. But before that - I want to know who I'm talking to!"
The man on the other line now actually chuckled. "You got spunk, I'll grant you that. Considering what position you're in.
"My name is Julio Morales," the voice said almost formally. "You might have heard of me before. I am being mentioned on the evening news every now and then."
Cam didn't need the help of a news anchor to recognize that name. Julio Morales wasn't as much famous as he was infamous. The head of Blue Bay Harbor's most notorious drug ring, he was known to specialize in 'designer' drugs such as Ecstasy, White China and PCP.
He was also a major thorn in the side of the Blue Bay Harbor police department and the District Attorney who had, despite their best efforts, never been able to pin anything more than a misdemeanor on the man personally. Morales knew how to cover his tracks, and he could afford the best lawyers money could buy to make sure he stayed out of jail and always one step ahead of the authorities.
"Definitely not pleased to meet you," Cam said dryly, casting a glance at his father and friends who were all listening intently to the one-sided conversation. "What did you do to me and what do you want?"
"Testy, aren't we? But then again, irritability is an effect of long-term sleeplessness," Morales replied, obviously intent on dragging out his little game some more. Cam just waited.
"Oh, before I forget," Morales added. "Don't even try to trace this phone call. I don't know what kind of equipment you have at your disposal, but whatever it may be, this phone is a SAV-TRAC model, completely untraceable."
"Will you get to the point!"
On the other line, Morales tsked. "All right. The point is that you are in possession of an item of mine that I would very much like to have returned to me."
Cam was taken aback. "Me?" he asked, bewildered. "How could I possibly have anything that belongs to you?"
"Believe me, you do," Morales said. "At least indirectly. And I want it back."
Cam's voice fell to nearly a whisper. "Regardless of the fact that I have no clue about what you are referring to - I don't make deals with criminals!"
"Such a harsh word." Julio seemed merely amused. "And so incongruous. You see, I consider myself the manufacturer and distributor of the finest psychedelic merchandise in this city. When you get high with my stuff, you get nothing less than a first-class high. That's why I have so many loyal customers." He actually sounded sincerely proud of this.
"You are nothing but a low-life drug pusher who is responsible for I don't know how many deaths!" Cam spat out the word with such acidic disdain that it raised several eyebrows from the group assembled around him.
Morales' voice instantly hardened. "Hey, I sell good times, okay? If someone doesn't know how much is safe enough to take or if they meet with undesirable ends because they did some dumb shit while they're higher than kites...that's not my responsibility."
"Yeah, you go ahead and keep telling yourself that." No longer able to hide his disgust, Cam's voice was dripping contempt.
"None of this concerns you," Morales snapped. "What you should be worried about is yourself. You're running out of time, Watanabe, so you better get working on getting me my money!"
Cam blinked. "Your money?" he repeated, incredulous. "This whole thing is about extorting money from me?"
"Oh no, not extortion, my friend. Rectification."
Cam's brows drew together in complete puzzlement. "What in the world are you talking about?"
"One of my associates – I believe your friends met him earlier today – happens to be a student at your father's academy," Morales elaborated. "A few months ago he picked up a bag from one of my clients which he was supposed to deliver to my office, but he stopped by this secret school of yours before he met up with me. Now, his excuse is that he was already running late for a late-night ninja exercise of some sort and stashed the bag in his dorm room there. He promised me that he would go right to the academy after school the next day and retrieve my bag, but when he got there, your Wind Academy seemed to have vanished." The way Julio drawled out the last word made it very clear to Cam that the drug dealer was more than skeptical about the truth behind his courier's tale.
Cam traded a quick look with his father. Under normal circumstances, he would, of course, flatly deny the existence of the Wind Academy, but unfortunately, Morales already seemed to know far more than he had any right to know.
"And you want me to make up for your loss," Cam concluded in disbelief. "I don't believe this! You must be out of your mind."
"The way I see it, it's only fair. An item that has been left in your academy's care for safekeeping is now missing, and since you're the head teacher's son, I think I am more than entitled to insist on compensation from you." There was nothing taunting in Morales' voice now. He was dead serious. "Quid pro quo."
"I'm sure you will hate to hear this, but the academy really has disappeared and no one knows its whereabouts, so there's no way for me to retrieve your...belongings," Cam said icily, but Morales was unfazed.
"Well, then you're just going to have to come up with another means of compensating me."
"What's in the bag?" Cam demanded to know.
"Five hundred and fifty-thousand dollars in fifty and hundred dollar bills, all laundered and untraceable," came the prompt answer. "And you are going to replace it all. Every single dollar."
Cam grimaced with disgust; Morales' disclosure hit him like a fist in the gut. Over half a million dollars of drug money hidden on academy grounds...
"You poisoned me to make sure you're getting your drug money back?"
"I did what I had to do to ensure that my assets are being returned to me," was Morales' unbelievable justification. "This is a lot of money we're talking about and it took a long time to earn that much dough. I am a businessman, Watanabe, I have to protect my investments. But if it makes you feel any better - this is nothing against you personally. It's strictly business; I'm sure you understand."
He said this in the tone of voice of a man who was wholly convinced of the sincerity of his words and if they had been face to face, Cam had no doubt that Morales would have emphasized his reasoning with a soothing hand on Cam's shoulder. The thought made Cam want to retch.
Julio Morales was not insane - Cam knew that much now. Cold-hearted, calculating, merciless, greedy, evil. But not insane. And that made him a highly dangerous opponent.
Perhaps even more so than any of the monsters Lothor had ever sent them, or even the evil space ninja himself.
"Absolutely no way," Cam hissed.
"Ah, but that's where you're wrong," the drug dealer said smugly. "You seem to be forgetting your current predicament, my friend. See, a normal person's system shuts down after about four to five days of constant sleep deprivation. Believe me, I've got proof of that. You've been up for nearly four days now, so even with you being a ninja and a Power Ranger, that little boost might give you maybe an extra twenty-four hours at best. So the way I see it...if you want to live to a ripe old age and see your children and grandchildren grow up..." Morales paused for emphasis. "You've got no choice."
"Where am I supposed to get half a million dollars from? Shake it out of my sleeves?"
"I don't give a damn how you get it as long as you get it by tomorrow at the latest."
Cam tried the blatant bluff. "What makes you think that I am not already being treated to counter your drug's effect?"
This only seemed to amuse Morales who barked a harsh laugh. "Nice try, Watanabe. But, you see, the substance currently inhibiting your system is the end product of an experiment of one of my most ingenious lab scientists. He was researching ways of making my 'Happy Pills' more effective, but instead he came up with a concoction of several rogue proteins and enzymes that attack the thalamus and prevent the body from producing melatonin and serotonin, thus effectively disabling your brain from inducing the 'sleep' phase." Morales chuckled. "It was an accidental discovery, so consequently I'm the only one in possession of this invention – and its antidote." The drug lord paused in emphasis. "And make no mistake: There is only one antidote in existence, so don't even bother wasting precious time by seeking anyone's help. No doctor or pharmacist will be able to cure you from this. No one but me."
Cam was too stunned and horrified for a coherent reply to this devastating news, but this apparently was just the reaction Morales had aimed for.
"Oh, and Cameron - Don't close your eyes from now on," the drug lord warned, the smirk clearly audible in his voice. "Because if you do, chances are you won't ever open them again."
To Be Continued…