All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games or the anime.
Chapter Twenty-Four: Lock-down
Saturday, June 12th
So far, it had not been a typical day for the girls of the Clemency School for Gifted Young Women. Kimberly woke up a little after seven, expecting to see her roommate asleep in the adjacent bed. Instead, Melanie appeared to have the blanket pulled up over her head. Thinking that the blonde girl was still wallowing in self pity, and that anything she said, no matter how good her intentions, would only aggravate things, Kim decided to let her be, and instead focused on her latest required reading for English.
But by the time eight o'clock rolled around, the girl was starting to get a little anxious. "Come on, Mel, wake up," she said, giving the lump under the blanket a little nudge with her elbow. "You know what'll happen if Wallace catches you."
No response. Kimberly scowled and nudged harder. "What, are you sick again? Or are you not done moping yet? I don't even know why I'm doing this. Frankly, an icy shower might knock a little sense into you. But…"
She threw back the blanket and gaped when she saw the pile of laundry (her friend's usual "sleeping decoy") underneath. She knew that Melanie liked to go to her workshop on Friday nights after lights out, but she'd always come back before morning. Kimberly dropped the blanket and raced to Ms. Wallace's room.
A search of the dorm and the surrounding grounds outside it revealed no traces of the small girl. So Joan had canceled their field trip to Burlington and instructed all students to remain in dorms while she and her staff searched the rest of the school. Instead of eating breakfast in the dining hall, it was brought to them. Later on at noon, lunch was served the same way.
By the time mid-afternoon rolled around, Kimberly was sitting in a corner of the rec room, nervously fidgeting with a deck of cards and trying to control her anxiety. All around her, she caught snippets of conversation from the other girls.
"I heard Landy say she was abducted by aliens," whispered a girl named Alexis.
"Or maybe they came to take her back to her home planet," answered her roommate, a girl named Cassidy. Both of them snickered at this.
"Maybe she got bitten by a werewolf," mused Charlotte, sitting with her social circle of Ichika, Camille, and Samantha.
"Don't be ridiculous," scoffed Camille. "The moon's not even full right now. It's the exact opposite."
"Think she ran away to join the circus?" Sunako asked the other girls in the elite group.
"It's where she belongs," Janis said with a laugh, and turned to Regina for a high five. The tall blonde simply sat there, hands folded in front of her face. "Come on, Gina, don't leave me hanging!"
Her hands didn't move. Instead, she simply growled: "I think she's just hiding on purpose to stop us from having a normal weekend, and either way, I don't give a fuck."
"Maybe we should," said Amanda. "Landy seems concerned about this. Enough to put the school on lock-down. She's never done that before. I mean, armed security guards are surrounding the dorm right now."
"Well, she's worrying for nothing. The runt will probably show up tonight or tomorrow laughing about this. But at least for now, we don't need to hear her bitch and moan about her damn braces."
For a moment, there was a calculating look in those green eyes, which went unnoticed by Regina but not by Kimberly. Then Amanda just shrugged. "Yeah, you're probably right. You usually are."
It was then that the Alpha noticed the smaller girl looking at them. Kimberly tried to focus back on her cards, but it was too late. "So, what do you know about this, Runt Number Two?"
Kimberly ignored her for as long as she could. Which lasted only a few seconds. Then that same voice, louder. "I'm talking to you!"
She looked up and gave Regina a look that feigned ignorance. "Me?"
"You see anyone else here named Runt Number Two?"
"Well, see, that's why I didn't know you were talking to me," she said with a shrug. "If Melanie's not here, then that makes me Number One again."
Regina was on her feet now, moving towards where Kimberly sat. "Don't get smart with me. I asked you a question."
The dark-haired girl gave another shrug. "So you did."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
The tall blonde glowered down at her, arms folded across her breast. "What do you know about this?"
"As much as you do."
"I don't believe that. You two always stick together. You know something. Admit it, the runt is pranking us."
"I don't know anything, and even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."
Regina remained impassive. "I don't believe you."
"I really don't give a fuck what you believe right now." She pulled the top card off the deck and flicked it at Regina, striking her in the face.
It looked as though a fight were about to break out in the rec room. Kimberly was on her feet now, with a defiant stance assumed. The rest of the conversation had ceased, and the other girls started to gather around. Before tensions could be unleashed, however, Wallace's voice boomed from the doorway: "Kimberly, I need you to come with me. The headmistress wants to speak with you!"
The girls surrounding them cleared out and went back to their business as fast as they'd gathered, making a path between Kimberly and the heavyset woman. "Um… did she say why?" The dark-haired girl asked.
"Couldn't tell you, hon. Just said she wanted to talk. I'll need you to come with me."
With a mounting sense of unease, Kimberly placed the card deck back into its box, tossed it onto the beanbag chair she'd vacated, and followed the dorm supervisor out of the rec room and then outside into the gloom of overcast day. Even if there weren't men dressed in black Kevlar with bull-pup assault rifles strapped to their shoulders forming a perimeter around the dorm, the air felt tense enough to be cut with a knife.
Kimberly saw more of these men walking patrol along the path leading to the Main Hall, and she found herself starting to share Melanie's suspicions. She knew the school had a private security force, but she'd never realized how large it was, or that they were so well-outfitted. More than ever now, she was wondering what Landy wanted to speak to her about, and hoped that it wasn't to break bad news.
After what felt like an eternity, they reached the Main Hall. Wallace led her inside, then up to the second floor, and the door leading into Joan Landy's office, which was ajar. The beefy woman escorted Kimberly past the empty desk where Candace usually sat. When they arrived at the door to the office proper, the girl saw her matriarch seated behind her desk. As usual, her clothes were pressed, and not one strand of honey-blonde hair seemed out of place in her bun.
She looked up from the reports she'd been perusing to turn her gaze on the two figures in the doorway, and it was then Kimberly noticed the lines of worry under Joan's eyes, visible even through the lenses of her reading glasses. Something she wasn't used to seeing in her elder. "Thank you, Edna," she spoke with a curt nod. "Please, Kimberly, take a seat."
The girl did as asked, while Wallace politely returned the nod with one of her own, and left the office, shutting the door behind her.
After she was gone, Joan asked in a surprisingly soft tone that Kimberly was not used to hearing: "Do you need something to drink, dear? Water? Juice? I'll even allow you a soda, if you like."
She tried to avoid fidgeting in her seat, but was unsuccessful. "No, thank you, Ms. Landy."
"Very well." Joan reached for her own drink, a mug of coffee that sat alongside her reports, and took a sip before she continued. "You already know that Melanie is missing, because you reported it to Ms. Wallace as soon as you learned of it. We've found no trace of her on the grounds, and have widened our search. In the meantime, I plan to question the girls who I know are acquainted with her. I wanted to start with you, because the two of you… seem very close."
The black-haired girl found herself a little offended by that choice of words, but managed to mask it. Her voice was level. "She's my friend, Ms. Landy."
"I know. Which is why I'm going to be direct. Do you know where she is?"
Kimberly paused for a moment before answering. She knew where Melanie had gone last night, but she doubted the girl was still there. She should have been back before sunrise. "No, Ms. Landy."
"Are you sure?"
Kimberly met her gaze. "I am."
Despite the situation, Joan's lips curled into a small smile. "I believe you. Did you know, dear, there are subtle ways you can tell when someone is lying? You just have to study their eyes. Little things like dilation of the pupils, focusing on other objects in the room… why, if someone flicks their irises up and to the right when asked a question, it's an indicator they're accessing the creative centers of the brain. That is, they're concocting a story. But I didn't see any indicators just now. You honestly don't know where she is. So my next question is: do you think she ran away?"
It took all of her effort to keep her gaze level with Joan's, though Kimberly found her mouth had gone dry. "No, ma'am," she managed to croak out, then she coughed a little. "Um, I think I would like something to drink, if you don't mind, Ms. Landy. Some water, please?"
The smile turned a little warmer. "Of course, dear." She got up from her seat, moved to a nearby mini-fridge, and took out a small bottle of Evian, which she offered to her student. Kimberly accepted it, twisted off the top, and belted down about half of it in one gulp.
Joan took her seat again and asked: "How do you know she hasn't run away? You sound very certain."
Despite her anxiety, Kimberly sat up a little straighter in the chair. This was something she could answer with certainty. "Because, Ms. Landy, if she wanted to run away, she would have done it by now. She was going to, at one point, when she felt she'd gotten what she needed from the school. But I talked her out of it. I convinced her to stay. I don't care what anyone else thinks about her, she's my friend and I trust her. If she promised me she would stay, then she'll stay."
Joan scrutinized her for a moment. Then she removed her glasses, placed them on the desktop, and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Again, I believe you, Kimberly. Which is why I almost wish you were lying. Because if Melanie has not run away, the only other explanations for her disappearance are either an accident or foul play."
At hearing that, Kim felt her resolve weaken. One of the reasons for her anxiety throughout the day was because she half-suspected that might be the reason Melanie hadn't come back. Joan's logic only seemed to confirm this.
The headmistress went on: "So, if there is anything more you can tell me that might help us find her, I urge you to do so. Time is of the essence."
Kimberly found herself torn now. She knew Melanie trusted her, and so she was afraid of what might happen if she revealed Mel's secrets, especially given the mood that the blonde girl had been in all week. But at the same time, if something happened to her friend because she didn't share absolutely everything she knew, how could she live with herself?
I'm sorry, Mel, she thought. I know how important your work is to you, and I feel terrible about this, because you trusted me with your secret, but… if you are in danger, I don't want you to die. She took a deep breath, and then said: "Ms. Landy, do you remember that old shed out in the woods past the eastern side of the fence?"
The headmistress nodded curtly. "Yes, dear. What about it?"
Kimberly then revealed everything she knew: Melanie's workshop, how she'd been sneaking out on certain nights of the week to go there, and the weakness in the fence that let Melanie get out of bounds. When she was done, Joan Landy was silent for several terse moments. Then she asked: "Is this all you know, child?"
Kimberly was just as unwavering. "That's all I know, Ms. Landy. I swear."
The elder woman nodded. "Very well. It seems, though, that you have been aware for some time now that Melanie has been sneaking out of your room after lights out. As far as whether any disciplinary action will be taken against you, I'll need to to decide that later. I have more pressing concerns at the moment. Ms. Wallace will escort you back to the dorms." She rose from her her chair and opened the office door.
Kimberly waited a moment before getting up. "Ms. Landy… will Melanie be okay?"
Joan's expression grew a little more rigid, then. Almost dangerous. "I assure you, my child. If this is the work of kidnappers, we will do anything and everything possible to see that Melanie is returned to us alive and unharmed. And I intend to send a clear message to those responsible: No one threatens my girls."
Kimberly nodded, and rose from her chair, though her legs and her mind felt heavy due to the gravity of the situation. Ms. Wallace was waiting out in the hallway, and on the walk back to the dorms (which felt longer than the walk to the Main Hall), all she kept thinking of was her last conversation with Melanie, how the words they'd spoken had been in anger. And now… there was a real possibility that Kimberly might never see her again. At least, not alive.
She took a deep breath and forced herself to keep it together until she was past the security detail and back inside the dorms. She did not go to the Rec room, instead walking upstairs to her bedroom. When she saw Melanie's empty bed, her eyes began to water. Kimberly shut the door, threw herself onto her own bed, and buried her face in her pillow. Only then did she finally allow herself to cry.
She couldn't remember the last time she'd done this. It was probably Kindergarten. As the original runt of the school, she'd learned pretty quickly not to do things like cry in front of other students, had learned to suck it up, to roll with the punches. She remembered an early conversation with Melanie, shortly after she got to the school, one of those rare moments where the girl actually shared what was on her mind. I've never liked crying, she'd said. It feels like a last resort, which to me says that you have no control over your situation. And I don't like being in situations I can't control.
Kimberly had liked that about her. It was something they had in common. But she'd never found herself in a situation like this, one where she felt truly powerless to do anything for her friend. Not to mention her first experience with women's troubles was messing with her emotions, which was one of the reasons she'd gotten so testy with Regina earlier, something she usually tried to avoid. So all she could do was lay there and sob into her pillow while the tears spilled from her dark brown eyes.
She didn't know how long she'd been doing that when she heard a knock at her door. She sat up on the bed, hiccuped a little, then managed to compose herself enough to say in a calm voice: "Please go away. I… I don't really want to talk to anyone right now."
The door opened, and Layla entered, a concerned look on her face. "Well, there's just one problem, Kimberly," she said. "I don't believe you. I think you do need to talk to someone." She sat down on the bed next to Kim, smiled sadly, and opened her arms. "And since Niko is over in Landy's office, probably being asked the same questions you were, well, you're stuck with me." The dark-haired girl returned the smile, then pulled Layla into a hug, buried her face in the blonde's shoulder, and sobbed a little more.
Layla hugged her back, and fell silent while Melanie's roommate vented her fears, her worries, her anxiety. Finally, Kim sniffed a little and sat up. "I don't mind being stuck with you, you know," she said. "If Niko were here, I don't think she'd come up. Not because she doesn't care. She does. But I've always felt that strong emotions make her nervous, probably because they aren't predictable. I think that's why she likes filling her notebooks, all those calculations and blueprints she's always coming up with. She has control over all that."
"Yup, she's a genius," Layla said with a nervous laugh.
"So is Melanie," Kimberly said. "Did… did she show you what she's been working on?"
The blonde girl nodded. "Yup. Zoey and I got the tour of her shed. It was something, wasn't it?"
"It was." Kimberly sighed and hugged Layla again. "She's my best friend, Layla. And I'm scared. I'm scared because… the last things we said to each other were kind of shitty. And now... I don't know where she is, or what's happening to her. What if she doesn't come back, and I… I never get the chance to apologize?"
She seemed to be on the verge of losing it again. Layla rubbed the center of her back and spoke softly in her ear: "She knows how you feel, Kim. She may not always show it, but she knows deep down that she's lucky to have you in her corner. And if anyone needs to apologize, it's her. I mean, I get that braces suck. Zoey's feeling Mel's pain there. But that doesn't give her the right to bitch at us twenty-four seven and just expect us to take it from her. Being someone's friend means that you're there for that person, but also you're not afraid to call them on their shit, when they're throwing a tantrum."
Kim straightened up again, and actually laughed a little. "You're right about that. You don't know how many times I've had to do that to Mel. I mean, she's a great girl, but… it can be a little tiring being her friend sometimes. She's worth it, but… it can be tiring."
Layla reached out, placed both hands on the other girl's shoulders. "Even the people who are rocks for others sometimes need their own rocks. If Mel ever frustrates you and you need to scream into someone's shoulder, you know that me and Zoey are here for you."
Kimberly smiled, pulled her into another big hug. "Thanks, Layla. And Niko might not be a hugger, but I know she cares too. In her own way."
Layla smiled as well. "Buck up, okay, Kim? What do you think Mel would say if she saw you crying about her?"
They separated once more, and Kimberly found herself laughing. "I know exactly what she'd say." She then started to talk in a fair impression of her friend's voice. "'What the fuck are you doing, you big pussy? I'm not dead yet! Now quit sitting there feeling sorry for me, get up and fight!'"
Both girls shared a hearty laugh over that. "Yeah, pretty much. Wherever Melanie is, I'm sure she's doing what she can, so let's do the same until she gets back. We'll see her again, Kimberly. I know we will. And she'll be fine"
The smaller girl nodded, pulled a handkerchief from her jeans pocket, and dabbed at her eyes. If Melanie had been taken, Kimberly already knew how resourceful her friend was. She was a child of the streets, and hated grown-ups with a passion. She'd be doing everything she could to make life a living hell for her abductors, and also to find a possible means of escape. So Kim would do what she could to hold things together on her end. "You're right," she said, and pocketed the handkerchief. "Thanks, Layla. I did need this."
"Anytime," said the blonde girl. "Now, assuming that no one is using the TV, you want to find an anime to watch?"
"That would be a great distraction," Kimberly said, and got up from the bed. As the two girls made their way to the door, she cast one last look at her roommate's bed, only this time she felt a sense of hope.
Hang in there, Mel. We'll do the same. And when you get back, we'll be here for you. But you still owe us an apology...
Later, after sunset…
The hour was late, but in her office, Joan Landy was wide awake. Lights out for the girls had been two hours ago, and it was only in the last thirty minutes that the sun had gone down, casting the shroud of night over the school and the surrounding woodlands. It had been a long day, but the headmistress was expecting two very important phone calls.
She stood rigid at the window, looking out over the quad, the sweeping searchlights, and beyond those, the black-clad security forces patrolling the perimeter of the fence. Though her gaze was outward, she still listened intently to Hartman, who was speaking behind her.
"So far, we've found nothing in that shed that we can use," the gruff man reported. "The only prints belong to Melanie. There are several tools and what appear to be disassembled toys, but they all belong to her. Windows are broken. Residue on the glass suggests the assailants launched tear gas through them. Not much else to go on. Just some blood stains on the ground outside."
Joan turned her head slightly at that. "Melanie's?"
"No way to tell. It was sprayed with ammonia, making it impossible to test for DNA. It was a sparse amount of blood, though, so if it was Melanie's, the wound was likely non-fatal. I don't know if that's any consolation."
Joan blew a harsh breath out through clenched teeth. "They have one of my children, Mr. Hartman. Evidence we can't use is of no consolation. Have you located any tracks?"
"Nothing definite. This was the work of true professionals. They've likely had the school and these girls under observation for some time."
Joan gave a weary sigh. "That seems very likely. Well, have your team search the shed again. Make certain we've leaving no stone unturned."
"Yes, ma'am," Hartman said with a nod. "We'll find something we can use. I promise you that."
The middle-aged woman forced a smile. "I know you will, old friend."
Five minutes after he left, there was a knock on the door from Candace. The younger woman had a nervous look in her eyes. "Um, Ms. Landy… I believe it's that call you were expecting."
"Put them through," Joan said, and sat down at her desk. Candace nodded, shutting the door behind her. The elder woman waited a moment, and then picked up the receiver. Formality was not necessary, so she simply said: "I'm listening."
The voice was deep, garbled, with a small whine of electronic feedback. "I'm sure by now you've figured out we have something that belongs to you."
Joan's voice was hard as refined steel. "I am aware. What is you want in exchange?"
"I'm asking the questions. Here's how it will go: you fail to do what we say, she dies. I catch even a whiff of a rescue attempt, she dies. You ask any more questions, she dies. Are we clear?"
"Crystal. But this is assuming she's even still alive."
"You have my word."
"You forget who you're dealing with. I've been playing this game for almost three decades, long enough to know someone's word is worthless. I'll need proof. We're both professionals. You know that's not unreasonable."
There was a pause. Almost as if the person on the other end were consulting someone. Then a noise that even through the distortion modules sounded like duct tape being ripped away from human skin. Whoever was distorting the call dropped it for a moment, long enough for Joan to hear someone that could only be Melanie: "You just lost a fucking..." Then the gag was replaced, and the original speaker was back on the line, their voice once again garbled.
"So long as you do as you're told, you'll see her again. You like to give others directions, now let's see how good you are at following them."
Joan's voice remained level. "This would all be easier if we understood what it is you want."
"You'll find out. But not tonight. Right now we're running a little short on time. You'll be contacted again this time tomorrow. Remember, we have eyes on the school, so don't try anything."
"We'll be waiting for your call."
"Smart woman," the voice said, and Joan could almost picture that arrogant sneer on the other end. "I'll be in touch." Then there was a click, and a dial tone.
A few moments later, there was a knock on the door. "Enter," Joan called.
She could tell by the look on Candace's face that the caller hung up too soon for them to complete any trace. "All we know is they're somewhere in Washington state, ma'am," she said.
"I suspected as much," Joan said wearily. "Whatever their reasons for taking Melanie, they did it because they want something from us. So we'll have to wait until we hear from them again."
The assistant nodded, and started back towards her desk. Then she paused, and looked at her employer again, brow furrowed with worry. "You look like you need a drink," Joan told her. Candace still hesitated, so the matriarch managed a half-smile. "It's all right. Get yourself something from the cabinet. And please, get me one as well. Cognac, a double."
"Thank you, Ms. Landy." Candace crossed over to the ornate cabinet, unlocked it, and after placing a snifter on Joan's desk, went back to her own with a rocks glass containing whiskey and water.
For a long time, Joan just sat there, cupping the bottom of the glass in her palm, letting her body heat warm the liquor inside. Finally, she was told that the second call she was expecting had come through. She waited until Candace shut the door, then picked up the receiver. "Yes, sir?"
The voice of the Director. "I've seen your report. So, it seems security at the school is not as airtight as you'd like to boast."
Joan scowled and finally took a sip of her brandy. "That's not the issue at hand, sir. If I have things to answer for, I'll gladly do so, when the time is right. But with all due respect, that is not now. One of our children has been kidnapped."
"Yes, I received a recording of the call via e-mail. You didn't seem to get much from them."
"Only because they wouldn't have given it. These people are professionals. They even thought to compromise any evidence left at the scene of the kidnapping. Most kidnappers don't possess that degree of foresight. You know what this means."
"Hired mercenaries."
"Precisely."
There was a long pause on the other end that actually made Joan uneasy. Then: "Well, the question is… do we want to get her back? We could just write her off. You know she was no longer a part of the plan."
Joan actually started a little at that, making her glad that she and the Director were not speaking face to face. "I think that is irrelevant, sir. I won't deny the sins committed by her mother are likely worse than anything we've ever done, but that is not Melanie's fault. These girls are innocent, for now. Besides, we had a deal. I have until graduation to get Melanie to conform to our standards. You're an honorable man, sir. You wouldn't take the easy way out. And… if someone has gotten to one of these girls, we need to find out how much they know about what it is we're doing here… and anyone else they might have told." She took another sip of her drink, to calm herself.
"Your points are valid," said the Director. "All right, we'll proceed with a rescue. But if they're using mercenaries, I think we should, as well."
Joan sagged just a millimeter in her chair. "I agree, sir. I can start contacting our usual…"
"No," he cut her off. "Just one. I'll make the arrangements myself. So they don't suspect."
Joan quirked an eyebrow at that. "Just one, sir?"
"Believe me, this one is all we'll need. You've met her before."
It took every ounce of control to keep her voice neutral. "Suzumebaki?"
"No, not her. But someone just as ruthless."
"It might be tricky getting her here. If indeed they do have eyes on us. That may have been a bluff, but we can't take that chance."
"Not to worry. The Snow Leopard can avoid being seen if she chooses. Focus on your duties, for the time being, keep those girls safe. By this time tomorrow, you'll have all the help you need."
Joan allowed herself a small smile at hearing that code name. "Understood, sir," she said. There was a click as the director hung up, and a few moments later, the headmistress slipped her own receiver back onto its cradle.
She turned her chair to face the window again, took another sip of brandy. The drink warmed her stomach, displacing the icy feeling that had been there before the Director's call. So, he's bringing in the Snow Leopard. By the time this is over, whoever has taken Melanie will regret the day they ever hatched that plan.
The Following Morning
The gate has been forced open. A worn sandstone sidewalk, weeds sprouting up through the cracks, leads to a red brick building.
A woman. Her face is not clear, but her skin is pale, almost waxen. She trembles with fever.
"I have carried you since they conceived you, Mei Lin. But now, if you continue to come with me, they'll catch us both. I've carried you as far as I can, child. You are a survivor, it's in your blood… stay strong…"
A drab, Spartan room with wooden floors and simple white cots. She feels herself being dragged from another girl, who is sobbing on her knees, several broken teeth resting in a small pool of blood, stark and vibrant against the floor's faded wood…
"You will repent your sin and proclaim Jesus your savior, even if we have to beat this lesson into you. It's for your own good, Melanie…"
Pitch black surrounds her. But through the ether, she can hear the skitter of multi-jointed legs, the clacking of mandibles. She can feel them swarming over her small body. She swings randomly in the dark, crushing many of her unseen assailants, splitting open their black chitinous exoskeletons, splattering vital fluid and organs. But the deaths of their comrades only seems to incite the rest of the vermin into a greater frenzy. She screams for help, for mercy, for whatever she can get, overwhelmed, banging at the door to the crawlspace, her pleas unanswered…
A man sneers at her, breath reeking, nicotine-stained fingers curled around the neck of a whiskey bottle. "You ain't much to look at now, girl, but you have plenty of time to grow. I look forward to it…"
"God has a plan, Melanie. Even for his mistakes."
"You are NOT your mother. Always remember…"
"Stay strong..."
Melanie's large amber eyes fluttered open, the world slowly coming into focus. She lay on her back on the thin straw mattress she'd been provided and gazed up at the ceiling, its interlocking maze of steel rafters casting harsh shadows in the dim light. Here and there, abandoned bird's nests could be seen wedged in them, and the faint acidic smell of their droppings hung in the air.
She wanted to go back to sleep, as her troublesome dreams would have been more preferable than the waking world at the moment. But the bedding she slept on wasn't much more comfortable than the dirt floor of her cell, and whatever sleep she'd been getting since they'd brought her here came either from sheer exhaustion or though being drugged.
At least the previous night's sleep had been the former, small blessing though that was. Melanie dragged her stiff, aching body off the mattress and stood up in the largely featureless room, did her best to stretch. Aside from the mattress and the toilet (which was lacking a seat), the room was windowless and featureless, but Melanie had been in worse. At least, so far, she hadn't seen a bug, but she didn't know how long her luck would hold out. All she knew was that they'd thought to search her thoroughly while she was unconscious, so the lock-picks in her hair had been confiscated, and so far she hadn't found anything in the cell that might work as a substitute.
Though she didn't show it, inwardly her mind was still reeling from the shock of the night before last: finding out that new assistant manager at the dollar store was some crazy bitch with her own team of mercenaries, and that she might actually have a connection to Melanie's mother. If you can believe her, the blonde girl thought to herself. You know grown-ups. Most of them will say anything, and most of that is bullshit. But still, she knew she'd been taken for a reason. If they'd simply wanted to kill her, she'd already be dead. In all likelihood, the crazy bitch was telling the truth.
But aside from the room she was trapped in, Melanie knew little else about where she was. She'd been kept in the cell until a brief period last night, she wasn't sure exactly when, but some men had come to her room, bound her wrists behind her back, blindfolded her, and slapped a piece of duct tape over her mouth. She was then led down a series of hallways into another room, where she heard that same familiar voice from the woods speaking on a phone. Judging by what was said, the woman was probably talking to Landy.
When the duct tape was ripped away, in the heat of the moment the girl said the first thing that came to mind, namely that the dollar store had lost a customer. Or she tried to. She didn't get the last word out before the tape was jammed back into place, then she was yanked to her feet and escorted back to her cell.
Now, as she'd gotten used to doing, her eyes scanned her surroundings, looking for any advantage. She still couldn't find one. The dirt was too hard for digging, but since she'd lost all her tools, she had nothing to use on it, anyway.
As she was looking around, the heavy door that was the only way in or out came open with a rusty creak, and in stepped the woman who'd knocked Melanie out two days ago. The girl had heard someone call her Keiko, but other than the fact that she worked at the dollar store, Melanie still had no idea who this woman was, or what she wanted.
"Up bright and early, I see," the woman said coldly, with none of the usual vacuous cheer that Melanie would hear when Keiko was behind the cash register. "And how is the little demon-spawn this morning?" As she spoke, she pulled some protein bars from her jacket pocket and tossed them onto the hard mattress.
Melanie gave a casual shrug. "She'd be doing much better if she knew what the hell was going on, and why you keep calling her that. What do you want from me?"
The dark-haired woman scowled, folded her arms in front of her breast. "Need I remind you that you're in no position to ask questions? If anyone is going to do that, it will be me. Remember your place."
There was something about this woman that reminded Melanie of the past, in particular that one drunk foster dad who'd tried to take liberties with her. Unlike her other fake parents, he had actually scared her. Keiko was like that, except the threat was not so much physical, and it was all Melanie could do to try and pretend she wasn't terrified. So the small blonde flashed a defiant smirk. "Really? You're the one asking questions?"
Those dark almond eyes narrowed into slits. Melanie noticed but stood her ground, defiant in spite of their height difference. "You have a knack for sarcasm. Perhaps you should take after your mother." Keiko reared a hand back, slapped the small girl right in her mouth. "Shut it!"
Melanie winced a little. The pain in her teeth had finally been starting to fade, but now it seemed like it might flare up again. But she was trying to maintain her defiance, and so she spit blood onto the hard dirt floor, then smiled up at her captor. "If I wanted a kiss, I would have called your mom."
This seemed to spike rage in the older woman. She grabbed Melanie by the collar of her hoodie, and slammed her up against the nearest wall. "My mother is dead, you little bitch!" She snapped. "And your mother is the one who killed her!"
For a moment, Melanie considered her options. In her current position, she could try kicking her captor in the solar plexus, but she knew that if she made it through the door, armed guards would be waiting just outside the cell. Besides, her curiosity was getting the best of her. She thought about what Keiko had just said, how similar it was to that comment the night before. Best option at the moment seemed to be to coax more info from this woman. "Don't see what that has to do with me! As far as I know, my mother dumped me on the steps of a penguin house down in California when I was barely out of diapers."
Keiko scoffed, and then tossed the small blonde back onto her rough mattress. "Maybe that's because she wants nothing to do with you! You see, the people running your school, in particular that bitch in the alligator boots, would never tell you the truth about her."
Melanie sat up a little, dusted herself off in an effort to look composed. In truth, hearing that Joan Landy might know something about her birth both felt obvious, but also unnerved the small blonde just a little. "And, like, you would."
Keiko became eerily calm, then, a smile spreading across her lips. "Only that she's a remorseless killer who's been spreading death and misery for as long as she's been alive. I'm sure her progeny are just like her. At least, according to my research. Research that I plan to release to the press, if your precious headmistress doesn't listen to me."
Research? Remorseless killer? Well, that was intriguing. "Um, she's not my precious anything. Just the lady who puts a roof over my head and gives me detention if I don't say grace. And what exactly do you know about the schoo-"
Melanie was interrupted by another backhand across her face, which sent her back down onto the mattress. She shook her head to clear it and gazed up into those dark eyes, radiating a stare even icier than Joan's. "I said I was asking the questions, bitch! You really need to learn your place."
Forcing her fear back into the recesses of her mind, as she'd done so many times growing up, Melanie flashed a smirk of defiance. "Okay. Question: what is my place?"
Keiko's lips curled back into a snarl, she raised her arm again for another backhand… then took a slow, calming breath out and lowered it. "You can treat this like a game if you want, you little smart-ass. Just know that if you keep mouthing off, I may lose patience with you and just kill you."
"Bullshit!" Melanie spat at her. "If this were just about punishing me for something I didn't even do, you'd have killed me already. You're keeping me alive because you want something from my school, so you need me as collateral."
Another calming breath, and then the older woman flashed the girl a cold smile. "Yes, and as soon as we get what we want, we'll no longer need you. So if you want a painless death, I suggest you hold your tongue." With that, she turned and left the cell, slamming and locking the heavy door behind her.
As soon as she was gone, Melanie sank back down onto her mattress. Sadly, that conversation had only raised further questions about her mother, ones that the girl now wanted to live to get answers to. And it shows me this bitch ain't just crazy, she's total batshit. If I were in a movie right now, I'd have no choice but to sit and wait for Landy and company to rescue me.
But this wasn't a movie, and Melanie wasn't an ordinary girl. She looked down at her left hand, the fingers of which were curled into a fist. Turning so her back was to the door, she opened those fingers to reveal the BIC lighter she'd picked from Keiko's pocket when the woman had her up against the wall.
Too bad she didn't have anything else in her pocket, but at least this replaces the one I lost. And it's a start. If I can steal another one, I'll be in business.
But for now, it was time to eat. To be honest, the blonde girl was more confused than ever. The woman who had left Melanie on the steps of the orphanage in Burbank hadn't seemed capable of murdering an entire family, but then… had that woman even been her mother? Was her mother really a remorseless killer?
She decided to ponder those questions later, when she'd found a way out of here and could ask Joan about this. For now, focus on surviving. She lifted a corner of the mattress and hid the lighter beneath it, then picked up one of the protein bars left by Keiko, tore the wrapper open, and started to munch on it. It felt like cement in her mouth, making her wish she had some water, but she'd learned on the streets to make do with what she had, and also to never pass up free food. She'd be keeping her eyes and ears open for any escape opportunity to present itself, and if she did see a chance, no sense facing it on an empty stomach...
If Melanie was having the worst weekend of her life, things weren't much better for the girls at the school. The lock-down continued, and all day Sunday, they stayed in the dorms. Time outside was limited, usually to go from one building to another, and they could not move without being escorted by armed security guards.
Kimberly managed to hold herself together as best she could, playing games in the rec room with Layla and Zoey. Niko coped in her own way by throwing herself into her hobby, poring back over her old notes regarding the pirated electrical system and black cable box she had rigged, trying to find the variable that would let her make it smaller, into the weapon that Melanie had inquired about. Kimberly saw the gesture for what it was, just the freckled blonde's way of showing optimism that they would see Melanie alive again.
Shortly after lunch, Joan Landy called all the girls to assembly, and they made their way to the hall in a single line on the sidewalk, flanked by the school's security force. Joan's lecture was brief, relaying what they knew: that sometime in the late hours of Friday night or early Saturday morning, Melanie had been abducted by persons unknown. The reason she was taken were also unknown, but Joan and her staff suspected ransom as the most likely motive.
"Rest assured, children," Joan said. "We are doing everything possible to get her back here alive and unharmed. Now, classes will resume tomorrow, but leisure activities will be restricted to indoors only. The increased security measures will continue, and any girl who goes outside will need to have an armed escort. No exceptions. And until further notice, any scheduled field trips are canceled."
"Fine time for the runt to get kidnapped," Regina grumbled.
Joan fixed the girl with a hard stare from her ice-blue eyes, which made Regina shift her own gaze to the floor. "I don't think you appreciate how serious this is, Regina. These people who have taken Melanie will end her life if they don't get what they want. Ever since the school opened, I have been afraid that something like this might happen, so we have prepared for this scenario, but there are no guarantees. What happened to Melanie could have happened to any student here. But, maybe you will appreciate the gravity of the situation more after two days of detention." Joan's eyes then swept over the hall. "Does anyone else have anything to say?"
A few moments of silence. Then, Kimberly raised a hand. "I only have a question, Ms. Landy. Why… have you... been afraid this might happen?"
To her surprise, Joan answered. "Because, Kimberly, dear, this school is reserved for special young girls with abilities beyond those of other children. There are many people out there who are jealous of the privileges you enjoy. This is why I am forced to take such extreme measures to ensure your safety and security. And now, our home has been compromised by whoever dared to kidnap Melanie."
Kimberly nodded, even though she had further questions she decided to keep to herself. So, Joan continued: "Me and my staff are working diligently to find her, but we will try to make ourselves available if any girl can remember anything that might help us, or if you simply want to talk. For those who wish to stay in Assembly, we will be showing a movie in the next twenty minutes. That is all." Joan Landy then walked off the stage, heading in the direction of the exit, to return to her office.
Out in the audience seating, Kimberly was silent, her mind processing everything the headmistress had just said. Her words only reinforced how serious it was. But at the same time, she was starting to think Melanie might be right. Something else was going on.
"We're gonna see her again, Kim," Zoey told her friend, a forced smile on her face.
"Yeah, I know we will," Kimberly said. "I'm just… thinking about other things."
Niko, who was sitting in front of the dark-haired girl, turned around, reached over and put a hand on Kim's knee. "She has to come back, Kim. In order to get the last word."
"Yeah, Mel always has to get the last word," Layla concurred.
"Which is exactly why she's gonna be okay," said Kimberly. "If Death did try to come for her before she ever got the last word, she'd tell him to take his scythe and cram it up his bony ass."
The four of them all shared a nervous laugh, and then Zoey asked: "You girls want to stay and watch the movie?"
"Might as well," Kimberly said with a shrug. "Any distraction's a good one right now." But still, when Melanie did come back, Kim found herself more than willing to listen to whatever theories the small girl might have about this school.
It was just past lights out for the girls, and Joan sat in her office, finishing a late dinner that had been brought over from the dining hall. It tasted a little different, as Nikolai had currently appointed a few of the kitchen staff to temporarily take over his duties because his skills were needed elsewhere. Currently, he was working with the security team, analyzing a recording of the kidnappers' phone call and listening to it layer by aural layer for clues. She was confident he'd find something. Listening to phone calls and radio transmissions had been one of his duties during the Cold War, and one didn't attain the Order of Lenin for their work in the Spetznaz GRU without being very good at their job.
Joan set her empty plate aside, wiped her mouth on a napkin, and then called out through the open door: "Candace, will you notify the kitchen staff that I'm finished, please?" There was no answer. "Did you hear me?" Still nothing.
Moving as silently as she could, Joan Landy opened the top right drawer of her desk, pulled out a nine millimeter Beretta, then rose from her chair, and took a position with her back against the wall on one side of the doorway. After counting to three, she turned and looked out into the foyer, holding her pistol at the ready.
Standing by Candace's desk was an attractive woman with long blonde hair set in a bouffant style, dressed in a yellow and black catsuit that showed off the well-built muscle in her limbs, though it also displayed much more than that. The suit's front was unzipped almost down to her navel, but then, due to the very expansive bosom poured into the front of her skintight outfit, one had to question if that was simply because the woman couldn't get the zipper up over her breasts without it getting stuck.
Upon seeing Joan standing in the office doorway, she gave a curt nod, a half-smile on her full lips. Joan's blue eyes flicked down to the floor where she saw her assistant crumpled at the foot of her chair, her own gun lying nearby.
The headmistress put the safety on her weapon and slipped it inside her blazer. "I hope she's not permanently damaged. She's an excellent assistant."
The other blonde woman shrugged, then spoke in an English accent. "I startled her, she pulled a gun, you know how it is. She'll wake up in about an hour. I do understand how hard it is to find good help, and the Director specifically told me no collateral damage on this one." The other side of her mouth then came upwards as well. "You're looking well, Joan."
Joan smiled back and crossed over to the voluptuous woman. "As well as I can be, considering the circumstances." She offered her hand, and the two of them shook. "It's been too long, Lien."
"Budapest, if my memory serves," said the woman named Lien Neville. "And it always does."
"You were about the same age then as my girls are now," said Joan. "And now look at you: all grown-up. And already with a very impressive record."
"Which is why, I assume, your organization needs my services."
"Very much so," Joan said with a nod. "But let's discuss it in here." She led the way into the office, and after Lien was seated, shut the door and locked it. "Something to drink?" She asked the curvy assassin. "I believe you favor McClelland's Single Malt, neat."
"You believe correctly," said Lien.
Joan walked to the cabinet, poured two glasses of scotch, then sat down behind her desk, offering one of them to Lien. The younger woman accepted it, swirling the liquor in the glass before taking a small sip.
"So, what else has the Director told you?" Joan asked her.
"Simply that one of your students has gone missing, and he wished to hire me to help you get her back. He said you would provide additional details."
"Indeed," Joan said with a nod. "We are still working to ascertain her location, but once we have this intel, a rescue operation will be organized. We'll need your assistance in neutralizing their security."
Lien nodded her understanding. "Covert?"
"Affirmative. Take them out without being seen. At least, until the child is safe. Once I send you confirmation of that, you will be allowed to express your… artistic side in disposing of the rest of them. Which I encourage you to do. Whoever these people are, the Director intends for us to make an example of them, in order to send a message to anyone who even thinks of trying something like this again."
The smile on those full lips turned deadly, and she ran one finger up the high-tech looking gauntlet buckled around her right wrist in an almost sensual manner. "Beautiful," Lien said, and took another sip of her drink. "I'm glad to see age hasn't softened you." She then reached inside the front of her catsuit, just under her right breast, pulled out a pack of Winstons, and raised a quizzical eyebrow to her hostess.
Joan tipped her glass at the femme fatale. "You're the only exception. In fact, may I have one?"
Lien took one out, slipped the filter between her lips, and then offered the pack to Joan. "I thought you quit."
"I did," said Joan, and pulled a cigarette from the pack. "But for special occasions, I'll let myself cheat."
Lien put the pack away, then produced a gold-plated lighter. After lighting both of them up, the buxom blonde took a drag, then tilted her head back to blow the smoke out towards the ceiling. "Tell me what you know so far."
Joan took a sip of her own drink, a drag off her own cigarette, and settled in her chair a bit, already feeling more comfortable now that "Snow Leopard" had arrived. "Very well." She picked up a manila folder from her desktop, passed it over to Lien. "This is all the intel we've gathered to date."
The younger woman opened the file, amber eyes flicking rapidly back and forth over its contents. After a minute, she shut it, and passed it back across the desk. "You'll keep me apprised of any new information?"
"Naturally," said Joan. "As we speak, Hartman and his crew are tearing apart the shed where Melanie was likely taken from by the kidnappers. I'm expecting an update from him shortly, if you'd care to wait around. If there's anything in that shed the kidnappers missed, he'll find it."
"I'm sure he will," Lien said in a voice that was perfectly level, and took another drag off her cigarette. "I'm well aware of how keen his eye is."
Despite what was at stake, Joan Landy couldn't help but allow a small smile at the younger woman, and offered her glass in a toast. "Good to be working with you again, Lien."
The buxom bombshell clinked her glass against the matriarch's. "Likewise."
The two then proceeded to make small talk while they waited for Hartman's call. By the time Joan had finished her cigarette and snubbed it out in the crystal ashtray on her desk, she was already feeling better than she had this same time last night. Whoever is responsible for this, they will be praying for death by the time we're through with them.
ADDITIONAL NOTES
And a new, albeit familiar player, has now entered the game. I wanted to give her a code name, and "Snow Leopard" seemed like a good one, because she's a catty bitch who is also cold as ice.
And now, what's next for both Melanie, and also the rest of the girls of Clemency School? Well, you already know that Melanie survives, because she grows up to become Malin. But I at least hope I can keep you on the edge of your seat with what I have planned. And what do I have planned? Find out next time...
