Kailor: Thank you all so much for your sweet words and for your patience while I handled this week. You guys really are the best. For that, here's a chapter that's longer than my others have been. Because we're getting INTO this action to save Aubrey so we can get to that sweet, sweet Bechloe ending we all want (and Universal never gave us). Love you all and can't wait to hear from you! Hope you enjoy!

Chloe's lips were so soft. Even pressed as firmly as they were to Beca's, they were soft. And the way they'd parted and coaxed every breath from Beca's body as teeth sank into her lip? She's still a little shaken and the sting in her lip is gone, but the impression of Chloe's kiss still sits heavy on her mind. And on her skin. She's sure she's licked her lips enough times now that Chloe's taste should be gone, but it's still there every time.

"Mitchell, you here?"

Oops. No. "Yeah. What?"

Mel's stopped a few feet ahead, pulling the collar of her shirt up to wipe sweat from her face. The Georgia heat seems even thicker in the trees and Beca realizes she's also sweating heavily. She pulls at her flannel, wishing she'd worn an undershirt so she could take it off. Mel sniffs, one hand landing on her gun. "We're here." She motions forward. The little blue car is just ahead. "I need your head in the game."

Cynthia Rose smacks Beca's shoulder with the back of her hand. "You good, B?"

"Yeah. Just worried about the girls." And she means it. She's worried about all of them. Especially Cynthia Rose and herself, seeing as they're the closest to possible danger. At least the others are somewhat far away. She can just picture Chloe, sitting somewhere up on the hill, chewing on her lip as she watches the market and the woods and worries about them, about her.

Whatever strange bit of selflessness led her down here is quickly shrinking away as she glances through the trees at the back entrance of the market. The big, sliding delivery door is closed and she breathes a sigh of relief. There's no one in sight.

"Don't worry. Your girl will be fine," Cynthia Rose says as Mel pushes through the underbrush to peer into the car windows. Beca glances back at her. "I've seen her flip a biker over her shoulder without even spilling her drink."

That's a story she hasn't heard before. "She what?"

"Yeah, man." Cynthia Rose watches Mel carefully bump the car. No alarm goes off and Beca relaxes muscles she hadn't realized were tensed. "Senior year. We were all out getting trashed before graduation. And this guy comes up and starts hitting on Chloe." Mel moves around to the other side of the car. Beca glances at the market. All still. "She keeps telling him no and she is wasted. Bitch was barely standing." She laughs quietly. "And this guy grabs her shoulder when she turns away from him and-I swear, I have no idea how she did it-but she bends forward and suddenly this dude is flipping right over her and onto the floor." She mimes hefting something large over her shoulder with a small explosion sound, cheeks puffing out.

"She never mentioned."

"She doesn't remember and refuses to believe us, I think." She chuckles. "That was the night she turned to Aubrey and said, 'I think I'm going to pass out.' And Bree was like, 'Nah, you're fine.' But then Chloe said, 'No, I'm gonna. But I can't. I'm in a mini-skirt.' And then she fell to her knees, sat on her feet, and laid forward over her legs and passed out. Folded like an accordion, bruh. But, hey, nobody saw up her skirt!" She wipes sweat from her chin, squinting one eye as she watches Mel fumble with her sock. "Funniest shit I've ever seen, drunk Chloe Beale."

Mel pulls a long, thin rod from her (very high) sock and Beca frowns, momentarily distracted from the image of Chloe folded up on the floor, passed out, drink still in hand. "Dude, is that a slim jim? Are you fucking running around with a slim jim in your sock?"

"Yeah." Mel waves it back and forth. "You don't do that?" Before Beca can answer, she turns back to the car and sets to fitting the slim jim behind the rubber seal at the base of the window.

"It's not just me, right?" Cynthia Rose suddenly whispers, closer to Beca's ear than she expected. "She's…"

Beca holds her gaze just long enough for Cynthia Rose to widen her eyes and tilt her head back a little. Then she hums a little. "Only a lesbian or a criminal would carry around a slim jim in their sock."

There's a pop and Mel wiggles the tool back out, bending down to store it back in its-oh my god, she has a fucking holster for it inside her sock. Cynthia Rose nods, eyebrows up as she admires what Beca can only assume is NOT her breaking into cars technique. "Okay, cool."

The roar of an engine drops all three of them to a knee, Mel's hand still on the door handle. A truck passes by, not even ten feet from their little hiding spot, leaving behind a cloud of exhaust. Its sound fades away and they all watch the delivery door and the smaller, regular door off to the side. Neither opens. So Mel pops the car door.

As she slips inside, Beca turns to Cynthia Rose. "Speaking of getting super drunk, though." Cynthia Rose's eyebrows lift, but she doesn't look away from the market. "I'm taking you to the bar when all this is over, dude. As, like. I don't know." It sounds stupid out loud. She wishes Cynthia Rose would just keep looking at the market, but she can feel she isn't anymore. So Beca does instead, staring at the closed doors. "For back in the car. For getting my meaning."

"Oh." She shrugs one shoulder. "You were either telling me to grab her gun or her crotch. I took a gamble."

"As adorable as your little bonding session is, I found something." Mel stands, hooking her arms over the car door and wagging a wallet and what looks like the car's registration at them. They step closer. "Anyone you know?" She flips the wallet open and holds it out.

The flame that lights in Beca's chest slips between her ribs and up into her throat so fast that she sucks in a breath to cool it. Instead, it just feeds the fire until she's sure it's licking at the back of her teeth when she snatches the wallet, thumb swiping over the ID inside and the man's greasy grin. She grabs the registration too. The names match.

"Son of a bitch," Cynthia Rose hisses over her shoulder. "Son of a fucking-" Her voice fades away, spitting obscenities that even Beca would usually flinch at.

But now she's steady as she hands the wallet back to Mel. "That's Tom. Chloe's piece of shit ex-boyfriend."

They're halfway back up the hill when the van passes by.

Beca's busy vividly picturing herself beating Jesse's dick cousin with her favorite bat from back home-the red one that her mom got her when her team won their first championship. The one with her name engraved on the barrel. So she can leave it imprinted on his face.

It's Cynthia Rose that spots the van through the trees and halts. "Girl, was that our ride?"

She and Mel stop, pushing aside branches to look. "Where the hell are they going?" Mel growls, going back to climbing the hill, faster now.

They reach the peak panting and sweating furiously, sacrificing quiet for speed. Beca's just stumbled out of the bushes onto the street when she sees Stacie waving frantically from the van's open side door. They quickly pile in and Stacie climbs back into the front seat to give them room. She's the only one there. "Where is everyone?"

"Uh, well." Beca's stomach sinks. "Emily is still on the other hill, watching out. Amy's kind of...gone rogue?"

"Color me shocked," Mel says dryly.

"And…" Stacie pauses, green eyes flickering to Beca's quickly, then away.

"Where is she?" Because that look can only mean one thing.

Stacie sighs. "Last I talked to her, she was planning to go with Mickey." She stops again, mouth still slightly open, then spits out the rest. "Down to the market."

"She what?" Beca reaches over Cynthia Rose for the door she closed when they climbed in, trying to wrench it open, but Stacie grabs her arm.

"They're already down there. Trust me, I tried to talk her out of it, but she wasn't having it. Apparently Mickey went down there once already and saw Aubrey. So Chloe said to tell you Bree is definitely inside and phones don't work down there. They're in the river, swimming down to look into the market, because they saw Flo inside and they're going to try and talk to her."

Mel pulls out her phone, frowning, but Beca is still wrestling with the door. Cynthia Rose has stretched herself across it, apologetically grimacing as Beca shoves elbows into her ribs to get to the door handle. "Dude, move!"

"Bec, she's already down there." Stacie's hands are wrapped in the back of her flannel now, pulling. "Stop, there's nothing we can do."

"I can go down there and drag her stupid ass back up here!" She's starting to feel a little claustrophobic, heart racing as she shoves at Cynthia Rose.

"Stop," Mel orders and it calms her enough that she doesn't punch Cynthia Rose directly in the face. It's a close one though. "They're already down there, can't do anything about that." She slides her phone back in her pocket. "Especially if phones don't work. Is that usual?"

"No," Stacie says.

Mel grunts. "Maybe they've got a jammer. It's what I'd do." She pauses. "What about your other friend? Flo? What's she doing down there?"

Stacie shrugs, still holding onto Beca's shirt, even though she's stopped fighting. "That's what they're hoping to figure out. They said Flo keeps coming out to the river so they were gonna swim under the docks and try to get her attention to ask what was going on."

Mel's nostrils flare as she sighs. "D is going to kill us all."

"She can get in line," Beca snarls, glaring at Cynthia Rose. The other girl shrugs, half squared up already, in case Beca should lunge for the door again.

"Okay. New plan-"

Something slams into the side of the van right behind Cynthia Rose and they all jump. Beca yelps as Mel snatches her collar and pulls her down to the floor, yanking her gun out in the same motion. Cynthia Rose rolls into the backseat. Stacie leans forward to look out. "It's Jessica! Down, Rambo." She waves at the window, hand rolling through the air. Jessica tugs the door open and blinks at the gun still pointed at her. Mel lowers it.

"What the hell, dude?" Beca groans from the floor well, reaching up to grab the back of Stacie's seat, wrapping her other arm up over Mel's knee to try and pull herself up.

"They-they-" Jessica's panting a little, her eyes wide. "They've got them."

"Who?" Mel snaps.

Jessica hisses through her teeth, head tilting to the side. "Chloe and Mickey. They found them."

They settle into the bushes and Beca pushes a branch aside to see better. Sure enough, the docks are occupied now, men moving back and forth along the water in pairs, hands on their waistbands. It doesn't take a genius to figure out they're armed. Two more men have appeared in front of the market, guarding the small door on that side.

"Shit," Mel mutters, jabbing at her phone. "Where the hell are you guys?"

"Where's Dana?" Stacie says, peering around the bush she's crouched behind on all fours.

"I don't know." Mel huffs. "She should be here by now. And my team isn't answering the damn phone, so I don't know how long until we can go in."

"Wait, wait, wait." Beca turns on Jessica and Ashley. "So what happened again? Exactly."

Jessica sighs, having already answered the question back at the van. "Chloe and Mickey slid down into the river and followed it to the docks. They hid under one and Flo came outside. We could see her talking for a few minutes, then these guys came rushing outside and jumped in the water. They pulled out Chloe and Mickey and dragged them and Flo inside."

"So they've got Chloe, Aubrey, Mickey, and Flo now," Beca says. "Probably Lilly and Amy too." She lets go of the branch to glare at Mel. "We need to do something."

"We've done what we can. More than that. We know who the car is for and that Aubrey is definitely here and that they've taken two more hostages. I'll pass that on to my people when they get here and we'll go in to handle it." She rises to her feet, still crouching low. "Stay here. I'll go try to call again." She crawls back toward the house and rounds the corner out of sight.

She's barely gone a few moments before Stacie sits back on her feet and crosses her arms. "Tell me we're not waiting for these people to get here. Because they've been on their way for ages now and they have at least four of our friends in there. And I doubt they're just keeping them locked in the breakroom until they're gone."

"Hell no. Call Emily. Does she know what's going on?"

"I texted her, yeah. She's caught up."

"Okay. We need to plan." Beca glances at the house. "Does anyone have a key before I go breaking into Aubrey and Jesse's house?"

"I do," Stacie says, phone to her ear. "But I left it at the house. What? Hello? No, hold on, Em." She puts the phone on speaker.

"What's happening?" Emily's voice crackles a little.

"We're pulling an Amy," Beca says and Ashley snorts. "Have you seen anything?"

"Nope. All quiet on the western front!"

Beca bites her lip, glancing around the group. "Okay. Here's the deal. Anybody here got fighting experience?"

Cynthia Rose and, to apparently everyone's surprise, Jessica raise their hands. She catches their wide-eyed looks. "I'm a black belt. You guys knew that." Ashley nods beside her, brow furrowed.

"I always thought you were joking, girl." Cynthia Rose leans over and slaps her raised hand against Jessica's. "Nice! I've just gotten into a few scraps at the bar, you know."

"Okay, so we've got a black belt." Beca nods. "So I say we bust into this house, grab any weapons we can, and sneak in. We get our people, we get out, and we hop in the van and get the hell out of here." She waits for them to agree, vaguely noting that there are a TON of holes in her plan. "Whatever else they're doing in there? Let the FBI handle that. We're here for our friends."

Emily's voice rises from the phone. "On the plus side, if they catch just a few more of us, we'll probably outnumber them then."

"'We' nothing," Stacie says, leaning closer to the speaker. "You stay put."

"But-"

"No. You stay where you are and keep a lookout." Stacie's voice is firm and when Emily goes to protest again, she says, "I swear to god, Emily Junk, if you show up anywhere near the market, I'm breaking up with you."

There's a silence, both on the phone and not. Beca catches Cynthia Rose's eyes and lifts an eyebrow. Cynthia Rose shakes her head back, shrugging.

"Okay," Emily finally says with a sigh. "Just be careful, please? All of you?"

"Always. You too, Em." Stacie hangs up and finds all of them staring at her. "What?"

"Nothing," they chorus and Beca realizes she's somehow been swept up into this weird perfect harmony these girls have when they talk sometimes. A week ago, she might have minded. But now, sitting in the grass while they all watch Stacie, of all people, turn red, she doesn't mind one bit.

Stacie rolls her eyes. "Okay, well, back to infiltration planning?"

"Right. Totes." Beca grimaces at the word even as it leaves her mouth. "So we get weapons. Then we need an in. Any ideas?"

Stacie straightens, lifting a hand suddenly. "Oh!"

"Any other ideas?"

"No, really, Beca! Listen." Stacie points through the bushes. "They're guarding the waterside, the open side, mostly. But there's only one door on the roadside of the building and only two guards. That door leads into the hallway where the offices are. It's where you go to place orders and stuff. Mamma's taken us there before. That's probably where they have the girls. And Mickey," she adds. "The only other place would be in the storage cooler or in the actual marketplace."

"Okay. So Ashley and Emily will be our lookouts." She waits for Ashley to nod in agreement. "Stacie, you distract the dudes at the door." Beca peers through the bushes at the two men. They're leaning casually against the wall on either side of the door, talking. "How?"

Stacie actually scoffs. "They're men. How else?" She grabs her boobs and Beca groans, looking away.

Cynthia Rose, however, just nods and stares. "Yeah, that'll totally work. She's got this."

"Okay. And what if they're gay?"

She shrugs. "Then I brain them with the nearest rock and run away."

"And if you do distract them? What will you do with them?"

"Brain them with the nearest rock and run away."

Beca sighs, rubbing her temples. A headache is starting behind her eyes and she just wants to take a long, hot shower back home in her own apartment while Chloe sings Goo Goo Dolls in the kitchen and Stacie and Emily argue over TV shows on the couch. "I know I should be more freaked out that we're totally all going to get brutally murdered today, but…" She sighs, dropping her hands and opening her eyes to find the other girls looking at her. "I guess if I'm going to get killed with anyone… I'm glad it's you guys."

Jessica's smile nearly lights up the yard and Cynthia Rose reaches over to slug her good-naturedly in the shoulder. Stacie smiles. "Awww, Becs loves us."

"Don't ever tell Amy," Beca says. "She'll never shut up about it."

Breaking into Jesse and Aubrey's house turns out to be easier than Beca expected, because the little bedroom window isn't locked. As the smallest, she's the one hoisted up on Stacie's shoulders and pushed through. She manages not to break anything, hooking one arm around the windowsill and rolling over to find the headboard with her feet. Why anyone would have such a small window so high on their wall, Beca has no idea. She prefers her bedrooms without windows. No sun while she's trying to sleep, thank you very much. The whole room is perfectly kept, like the living room had been-bed made to military standards, clothes in the open closet color coded. Control freak, indeed.

She takes the opportunity to jump off the headboard and bounce down the bed before landing quietly on the carpet. Aubrey would probably not appreciate it, but Beca thoroughly enjoys it. She winds through the house to the back door and unlocks it before starting her hunt for weapons. What the hell do you carry with you when infiltrating a kidnappers lair? Probably not sewing scissors, she thinks, closing the door of what looks like a craft room.

Stacie, Cynthia Rose, and Jessica file in quickly and they all fan out, agreeing to meet back in the kitchen with their hauls.

Beca heads back to the bedroom and pulls the nightstand over to climb on while she digs in the top of the closet. She isn't really expecting to find a gun. Jesse's always been very against them. But, hey, it's been years. So she pushes aside extra bed sheets and a shoebox completely full of movie ticket stubs.

And there, against the back wall, steel blue and black grip, is Jesse's old baseball bat. The one he'd gotten just to help her practice even though she'd assured him he didn't need it. She recognizes it by the strip of neon pink tape around the top of the grip. "Boys can like pink too," he had said, hefting it over his shoulder and accidentally knocking his cap off. It had been too big for him, too heavy, but by the end of that summer, he'd been fairly decent at using it. She thinks it would probably be too small for him now. The random memory leaves her throat a little tight and she clears it as she pulls the bat down and hops to the floor.

She stands it up against her leg. It reaches a little higher than her hip, a few inches too long for her, but not bad. She holds it out to the side. Not too heavy, though. Good. She can work with this.

There's nothing else in the bedroom worth taking, so she checks the hall closet, nodding at Stacie as they pass each other. There's nothing there either, so she heads to the kitchen. The other girls have dumped all of the kitchen knives onto the counter and one wicked-looking hunting knife. There's also a pair of brass knuckles and a hatchet in what looks like a leg holster. "What the fuck?" She picks up the hatchet.

"Aubrey's dad sends her stuff sometimes." Jessica hefts the hunting knife, spinning it to lay against her forearm, testing its weight. Apparently satisfied, she grins her megawatt smile and it clashes horribly with the sharpened steel in her hand.

"I'm officially terrified of you," Beca says, pointing the bat at her.

"Wait 'til you meet Lilly," Cynthia Rose rasps, taking the brass knuckles and slipping them on. Then she nods to the hatchet. "Stacie gonna go as Lizzie Borden?"

"Please, I don't need that stuff." Stacie emerges from the bedroom and Beca's jaw drops, because she's changed into a very short pair of running shorts and a sports bra that barely looks like it's going to be able to do the job. Cynthia Rose's brass knuckles clink to the counter and she hisses in pain. Stacie grins at the reaction. "I am a weapon."

"Okay, well. Still." Beca spins away from the expanse of skin on display. "You should take a knife or something anyways. I'll take the hatchet. Also." Beca quickly unbuttons her flannel and slips out of it, shoving it at Stacie. "For when you need to be not distracting and help us. Also, I'm burning up in it."

Stacie takes the shirt, tying it around her waist. "Not how I thought I'd get you shirtless one day, Mitchell, but I'll take it." She smirks. "Nice bra, by the way. You look cute."

Beca glances down at the dark red sports bra she'd thrown on earlier. "Shut the hell up, no I don't." She grabs the hatchet and shoves past her to the bedroom, digging through the closet to find a plain black t-shirt. Aubrey's, she assumes, because it's just a little long on her. She tucks it into her jeans and straps the hatchet to her left thigh.

The second that weight settles on her leg, the reality of it all settles a little too. It's felt kind of like a dream, the seriousness of it all just a little out of her reach. But as she tests the button holding the hatchet in place to make sure it isn't too hard to pop free, she realizes she very well might need to use it. She hopes not. She's gone this long without murdering anyone and she'd like to keep it that way.

But if anyone's hurt Chloe? She pops the button once more, then clicks it back into place.

Stacie's found an armband for her phone and a pair of headphones when she meets them at the front door. "Ashley's going to wait in the van. If any of us come out, she'll drive down and snatch them and haul ass."

"Good idea." Beca hefts her bat, rolling it between her palms. "Now, who's gonna tell Mel?"

"Oooh," Cynthia Rose's nose scrunches up and she points toward the living room. "About that."

Mel's seated on the couch, messing with the laces of her boot and glaring at them all. "You guys are slow as hell, you know that?" She stands, tossing her curls back over her shoulder. "My team's still a ways out and Dana isn't answering. But one of my buddies back at Beale's house said Kommissar is gone and they don't know where to. We can't wait anymore. But-" She holds up a finger imperiously. "If one of you gets me killed, I will haunt your entire family line."

Beca has no doubt that's true. "Oh, hey, Mel. We were totally coming to invite you to join us-"

"Can it, Bite Size. And please tell me none of you has a gun." They shake their heads. "Good. Besides the very high probability that one of you will shoot me or yourselves, it's too much noise. We're going stealth. The second that door is clear, I'll head in. All of you stay behind me and keep the path back out clear. Got it?"

The other girls nod. A little offended, Beca mutters, "I mean, that was kinda the plan already, but-"

"So if you can't use your gun…" Jessica hesitates, glancing at the kitchen table and all the paring and bread knives scattered across it.

Mel pulls something from her back pocket and flicks it. There's a slither of metal on metal and suddenly she's holding a very tiny crossbow. A fucking crossbow. "I've got this princess. Carbon-fiber lens, 80-pound draw weight, capable of shooting 160 feet per second." Mel admires the weapon, sucking in a breath through her teeth. Then, in an outrageously soft voice, she says, "I call her Gertrude."

Everyone just stares at her. Cynthia Rose gulps a little too loudly. Beca's pretty sure she did something very fucked up in a past life, because this cannot be happening. But then Mel is motioning to the door with her fucking crossbow and Stacie is nodding and slipping outside and Beca follows, sighing through her teeth.

They backtrack down the road until they can't see the market anymore, then cross over and slip behind a house with a very old dog sleeping on the back porch. They move into the trees and head back down until they reach the end of the row of houses. Mel motions for them to follow her as Stacie breaks off from the group, but Beca hesitates when Stacie catches her eye and lifts an eyebrow. The others press on and she moves with Stacie to the edge of the trees. The van is parked across the street and she can see the top of Ashley's head in the driver's seat.

Stacie takes a deep breath, tightening her armband and putting one of her headphones in. "Listen, Bec. I need you to do me a favor."

It all feels very last request-y, so Beca's already shaking her head when Stacie grabs her shoulders.

"If anything happens-"

"Dude, no-"

"If anything happens." Stacie gives her a quick shake. "Tell Em I love her." She rolls her eyes a little, lips quirking up as she fake gags. "Ugh, that's the first time I've said it out loud."

She laughs and it eases the panic in Beca's chest enough that she can point a stern finger at Stacie. "After this is over, you are telling her that. And then you are telling me everything. I can't believe you've been hiding this from us."

"Sorry, Dad."

Beca slugs her in the arm and Stacie just laughs. "Bitch." Stacie was her first actual friend in New York. And just like with Chloe, Beca had fought it. Stacie had backed off more than Chloe had, but she'd still shown up to work with coffee for Beca when she didn't ask for it. She still stayed late to make sure Beca didn't walk to her car alone after dark. She still sought Beca out in the breakroom to share whatever wild story she had that day. And Beca had softened to her presence as best she could, letting the girl barge into her office whenever she wanted and letting her come over to borrow her internet when Stacie's electricity was out during that big storm a few years ago and she had homework to do. And maybe it's that image, of Stacie's way too long legs propped up on her old coffee table as she chewed her thumbnail and stared at the insane amount of notes on her laptop screen, a storm raging outside and Beca as far across the room as she could politely get. Maybe that's what has Beca reaching out to pull Stacie into a quick, somewhat awkward hug. Stacie stiffens, surprised, but returns it. They pull away and Beca scratches her nose, taking an extra step back. "Be safe, dude."

"Duh," Stacie says, a little too quietly. Then she grins, voice rising back to normal volume. "These boys won't know what hit them." She winks and slips her other headphone in before turning and jogging out onto the road. Her ponytail and Beca's flannel bounce behind her and she watches as the men below immediately notice her. One of them raises a fist to his mouth and nods pointedly. The other spins around, already smiling.

Beca smirks, turning to hurry after the others. "Watch out, boys, she'll chew you up," she sings under her breath.