Author's Note
This story was inspired by the characters of the American reality tv show DANCE MOMS. I said "characters" because I wrote it base on what was played on the program, and not the actual casts or their personal life. Much of the characters and geography was altered to meet the fictional story, and I hope readers would treat it as another young adult action novel.
I would also like to pay my respect to the original casts, who has spent tremendous amount of blood and sweat chasing their dreams, so as to achieve where they are today. I here wish the best of their career!
junktom51 .hk
Yours truly, Thomas Chan / T. P. Channing
Dance Moms Bodyguard
by T. P. Channing
Chapter 1 : The Call
The phone rang so early Spencer hasn't reach his desk yet, the caller ID showed that it was from a regional branch.
"We need someone in Pittsburgh. Protection for a dance studio, one man job, monthly contract. Do you have anyone there?" the other end asked.
"Dance studio?"
Spencer calculated in his head: one man for a protection job, meaning the client has very low budget, and therefore very low pay, not even worth putting into the system, that's why he's calling direct.
"Yeah, they were harassed by some local gang members." the other side continued. "Scaring a lot of moms!"
"Moms?" high drama too! Spencer thought. "I thought we don't take private tasks anymore."
"Yeah but, business are low this year, with the market crashed and all, the Office wants to fill in the gaps."
"Alright, send me the file!" he signed and hangs up the phone.
The Orion Agency was a private funded network that provides security services to giant corporations, from personal security to hostage extractions, run by ex-military personnel and mercenaries. Spencer opened the e-mail he received, read through the details, leaned back on his chair rubbing his temple.
The client was the manager of a dance studio, they were running a reality show about life of young dancers, and were recently disturbed by a group of motorcycle gang.
A takedown job, as they called it, single target, one time, zero potential for future businesses. But like his branch partner said, business are low, they'll take anything.
A tri-star Orion belt logo popped on the phone screen, its owner swiped the icon and it flipped over, displaying details of the assignment. Seconds later came an encrypted voice call.
The owner of the phone glanced through the details before hitting RECEIVE on the flashing icon.
"Morris! How the hell are you?" Spencer tried to sound positive by raising his pitch.
"Is that the best you can come up with? A shitty takedown job in Pittsburgh?" the man grunting in displeases.
"A new start, Morris!"
"I don't need a new start. I need to be back where I was!"
Morris rolled out of bed, trying to find his bearings, which wasn't hard in his forty foot trailer.
"You know how it works, Morris. You take a task and then turned away, you get blacklisted, along with all your credits." There was a silence, Spencer sighed and said. "Look, you can start from the beginning, or you can stay out for as long as you want. How long has it been now? Two years?"
"Why me, Jim?"
"Why… what, you're the closest!"
"What about Burtner? Isn't him in Cleveland?"
"Burtner's on a task."
"Burtner's at Miami! With my ex! I saw him on Instagram!" Morris reached the bedside table, found his cigarette and lighter.
"Hey! He completes his tasks, he gets good credits, so he receives more tasks. It's a fair game."
"It's not fair when your boss sold you to the wolves!" Morris yelled, dropping his lighter doing so.
"It's all water under the bridge now. Look, it's an easy task, just stand around, earn some credits, make some upgrades, you'll be back in no time!"
Hearing the other side silence, Spencer knew he was halfway succeeding, took a deep breath and said:
"Look, it's a dance studio, there's gonna be a lot of girls, and you can show it off to Burtner all day long. He'll come begging to switch with you!" If money couldn't drive him, Burtner sure can! Spencer thought.
There was another long pause, and then other end asked:
"When do I leave?"
Chapter 2 : Meet the New Boss
After a long hour drive, Morris reached the given destination at late afternoon. He got out his car and stretched his back, lighted a cigarette and looked to the building behind him.
It was a two story building located at the outskirt of the city, the ground floor was a wall of glass windows, with blinds pulled down for privacy. The entrance was a double glass door with ABBY LEE DANCE COMPANY in red italic font. Vehicles of different shapes and sizes pulling into the parking lot, exiting by moms with their girls.
"You've got to be shitting me!" Morris cursed quietly.
Spencer wasn't kidding about a studio full of young dancers, maybe too young. Most of them were fifth graders, with their mothers giving him the strange looks.
"Excuse me!" a tall blonde woman tapped him from behind. "Do you mind not smoking here?"
"It's outdoor!" Morris grunted.
"It's bad influence for children!"
"Tell them to look away!" he puffed another smoke.
"Come on, Chloe. Stop looking at the man!" the woman tugged her little girl away like he was a plague.
Paige was doing her homework, while all her friends were dancing inside the studio rooms. She has to wear her cast for one more week before the doctor said he can remove it, but she has to be here because her mom said she has to be with her sister.
Since she couldn't practice, Miss Abby made her sit at the reception. The door pushed open, and then a shadow casted over her homework. She raised her head and saw a giant silhouette blocking the afternoon sun.
"Can I speak to your manager? A Miss… Abby Miller?" the manly shape asked.
"Miss Abby is teaching a class right now. May I ask what this is about?" Paige asked, a little intimidated by his size.
"Do you work here?"
"No, I'm a student." she raised her eyebrows. "I can't practice so Miss Abby told me to sit at the front desk."
"Do you get pay sitting here?"
"No?" she shook her head.
"Then can you get me someone who does? Like a staff? I need to speak to someone who works here."
Paige stood up and came out from behind the desk, limping her way towards a glass door. She stopped halfway, turned back and asked.
"May I ask who wishes to see Miss Abby?"
"Morris. Security detail." the man nodded to her cast. "Can you walk in that thing?"
"I can dance in this thing!" Paige stood with her casted leg, pivoted a spin.
"Just checking!" the man nodded and smiled.
She pushed through the frosted glass door that says "No Entering When Music Running!" and entered, Miss Abby was barking at her class of students as always.
"WHAT!?" Now she is barking at Paige.
"Miss Abby, there's a man at the door asking for you." Paige stuttered. Everyone here fears Abby, even the staffs.
"What MAN?"
"I… I don't know. He said he's from security something…"
"It's about time!" Abby said. "You girls keep practicing!"
As soon as Abby walked out the door, all the girls gathered around Paige.
"What man?"
"I don't know, BIG guy!" Paige measured her arm high up. "He said he's from security detail!"
"You mean like secret service?" some girls asked. "Like a special agent?"
Soon everyone pressed to the door and peep curiously.
Morris looked around at the reception. This wasn't his first task in a dance studio. There has been works for celebrities in studios and film sets, but never a place for children. The walls were covered with pictures of little girls holding trophies, putting out a fake smile on their heavily makeup faces. There were shelves after shelves jammed with trophies and medals, showing off the studio's successes.
A fat lady came out where the little girl went in. She was in her late forties, wore thick black hair and dark eyeliners, her body so wide she took up most of the corridor as she was walking out. Her figure and appearance resembled nothing near the dance profession.
"You are?" her face as hard as wood.
"Morris, Ma'am. You called for security service?" he showed his business card, the lady snatched it from his hand, reading it from front to back like a dollar note.
"Are you Miss Miller?" he asked just to be sure.
Abby Miller looked at the tall man from head to toe, wasn't impressed at what she saw: a scruffy looking man near his fifties, in a worn out flight jacket and pocket pants, his breath stink of cigarettes.
"Just you? You don't have a team or anything?" she asked, hands on her hips, judging.
"I will assess the situation, Ma'am, and bring in additional personnel if necessary." That is, if you can afford for them, Morris thought. "Do you have an office we can talk in?"
She lead him to a tiny room behind the reception, inside was a table and two chairs, and papers and photo resumes stacked from table to wall, and more trophies. The fat lady squeezed her way through the narrow gap between desk and wall, sat heavily on a chair half her size. Morris sat opposite.
"You said you'll bring more people, is that gonna cost more? I can't afford anymore in my budget." the lady said.
"Only if necessary, Ma'am." At least she's straight honest. He thought. "Now, I understand the problem comes from a motorcycle gang?"
"First of all, don't call me Ma'am." she leaned forward with her giant head. "You can call me Miss Abby, or just Abby. And yes, I'm afraid we do. They were terrorizing the place!"
"Please tell me more."
According to the fat lady, one of her dancer, Maddie Ziegler, whose parents were going through a divorce. The husband and father belonging to a local motorcycle gang, and had been harassing the mother over child custody.
So I'm on family matters now? Morris thought.
"Did you call the police?"
"If the police can help, you won't be here. Mr... Morris?" she looked at the business card in hand.
"Just Morris."
"They drove around in their big bikes making loud noises, disturbing my classes. The police said they're on an open road so they didn't break any laws."
"So, if the gang is gone, problem solved?" and I can go home?
She hesitated, spun left and right on her little office chair, it was squeaking as if calling for help.
"And then there was the package."
"Package?"
"A week ago we received a package. It was attention to one of the girls, the contents were… let's just say not appropriate for children."
"Same gang?"
"Not sure." Abby shook her head.
"A jealous boyfriend maybe?"
"As you know, we're also running a reality show here. There are lots of exposures, could be coming from anyone. Do you watch tv, Mr. Morris?"
"Reality shows are not my favorites."
"Well, you should! We made the National this year! A lot of shows are asking for my girls!" she said proudly.
"So, fans? Maybe a competitor?"
"That's why you are here, Mr. Morris, to keep them away so my girls can focus on their dancing."
"Understood, Miss Abby."
The fat lady got out of her chair with all her efforts, squeezed pass her desk and showed him the facilities.
There are three dance studios on the ground floor, with changing room and gift shop cutting in between. Second floor was an observation deck for the parents. Miss Abby constantly reminding him that this is a female populated environment, that he being the only man should stay out of sight as much as possible.
"Understood, Ma'am. What about the tv crew?"
"They'll come in tomorrow, they'll only work in one studio. Your job is to keep out anyone that doesn't belong here. Do you understand?"
"Will they have IDs? The crew I meant"
"There're only four of them, you'll know them soon enough! Are there any more questions? Mr. Morris."
"Just one more thing, Ma'am. Where do I stay?"
Usually the Office would arrange a motel or a private area, in this case it was a windowless attic on top of the studio, access behind a wall of pictures on the second floor. It has been use for long term storage, with dance props and more trophies stacked in random boxes.
"I'll have to speak to my agent about accommodation!" Morris sat on the bed, which was just a bare mattress on a squeaky spring rack.
"I can't afford a motel. I can barely keep up the rent of this place. Your agent agreed to it already." Abby said.
"Nationals, did you say? And you can't pay your rent?"
"Fame before fortune, Mr. Morris. Why do you think I put up with that stupid tv show?"
By this time a roaring of motorcycle engines came from outside, so loud even from the windowless attic.
"Is that them?"
"I'm afraid so!" Abby's face troubled.
Morris followed the fat lady down the narrow staircase and back on the second floor, and then toward the ground floor reception. The door was already crowded by young dancers and their worried mothers.
"Everybody back what you are doing!" Abby yelled, shoving people away.
Beyond the glass door Morris could see a line of bikers, all in black leather jackets, circling around the parking lot on their choppers, blasting engines so loud the glass trembles.
"Miss Abby," Morris said. "I need you to gather everyone in one secure place, no windows! And then check the backdoor and make sure no one can come in, lock it, come back and give me the signal. Go!"
The fat lady blinked for a moment, obviously not used to take orders from someone else, but she went anyway, probably wanted to see if this scruffy old man worth her money.
"Lock this door behind me." Morris said to the closest adult, which happened to be the tall blonde woman from the parking lot.
As soon as he stepped out the door he felt the glass pushed him out of the building. Behind him the blonde mother locked him out without hesitation, pressing her hands against the glass, her eyes saying better you than me!
"Thanks!" he forced her a smile.
He stood still guarding the door, lighted up a cigarette and began his assessment. He counted seven bikers, big and wide, circling around the parking lot on their roaring choppers, which allowed him to check them from both sides. Each of them bikes had a head of a bulldog spray painted on the gas tank, the dog wore an eye patch and was smoking a cigar. No shotgun, he observed, only pistols hanging at the back of their pants, some were revolvers, two classic Colts, which adds up to about forty-four rounds of ammunition.
A biker with heavy bear stopped a few feet from Morris. He was more curious at the man smoking, rather than a stranger showing up at a dance studio.
"What have we here?" he smiled, exposing his rotten teeth.
The rest of his gang got off their bikes and came into a semicircle, surrounding the smoking stranger. A big bald biker stepped forward, wore a leather vest that displays his muscular arms and tattoos, stood a head taller than Morris, looking down to emphasize his size.
"Who are you?"
"What? Can't a man smoke anywhere now?" Morris blew out his smoke.
"I come for my daughter."
"She's inside, practicing. And you are disturbing her."
"That's none of your business!"
Any ordinary man would be greatly intimidated by now, but this man continued smoking, and has no desire to move away.
"Practice hour ends at seven. You can pick her up then, like the rest of the mothers." Morris said.
Some woos and chuckles came from the gang drove the bald man furious.
"You should get out of my way." the bald man lowered himself to meet his face. "Don't make me shove you away!"
From the classroom window, all the girls had their faces pressed to the glass, watching the two adults in confrontation. They saw the bald man reached into his pants and pulled out a knife, swinging it in the air like a dance.
"Oh my God! He's gonna kill him!" Kendall covered her mouth to stop herself screaming.
"He's just showing off!" Brooke, the oldest of the girls said.
"Really? Butterfly knife?" Morris puffed through his smoking lips.
The bald man launched for a stab, Morris caught his hand and twisted inward, took over the knife and smacked him across the face, his other hand swung expertly, folded the blade back into its handles.
"Did you see that?" Paige gasped, so did everyone behind her.
"Now that was awesome!" her sister nodded.
They watched Morris shoved the knife back into the bald man's hand, his cigarette never left his lips.
"Try it again!" he puffed.
The bald man barely knew what happened, but by time he saw the folded knife was back in his hand again, the world spun upside down and he was lying on the ground.
He felt his gun yanked away from his hip, and a series of gun fire exploded over his head. Everyone of his gang went frozen, each had a hole punctured on their boots, exposing the unharmed foot inside.
The bikers were stunned, their hands froze half way reaching for their guns, their eyes locked on the Colt pointed at them.
Morris turned the gun sideway, then with lightning fast movement, disassembled it, scattered the parts all over the parking lot gravel.
"Nice gun!" Morris said, still smoking through his lips, as if he never moved. "It needs oil, why don't you pick it up?"
The bald man went on one knee, picking up the pieces, all the while keeping his eyes on the man in case he throws a kick. He shoved the pieces into his jacket pocket and stood up.
"This won't be the last of us!" he climbed on his bike and kick started the engine, rode away with the rest of his men, leaving a trail of smoke in the air.
"Wow! Did you see that? Just like in the movies!" girls gasping behind the window.
"His name is Morris!" Paige nodded smiling, as if introducing her new best friend.
Moments later Abby unlocked the door, stepped out with her hands at her hips, assessing the situation.
"Would you put out that cigarette? We have kids here!" she said, not impressed by what just happened.
"Really? All you concern is me smoking?" he bent down and picked up a piece of spring.
"What's that?" the fat lady asked.
"It's a recoil spring, easy to miss. Was that the husband of the mom?"
"It will be the Zieglers."
Melissa Ziegler was a short woman, still shaking from her husband's visit, holding on her two daughters to dear life.
"I think he left this," Morris showed her the spring. "Any ways to give it back?"
"I'm not going anywhere near him!" the mother shook her head undoubtedly.
"Then I will do the honor."
Spencer was about to get off work when his phone rang, it indicated Morris and he knew he should ask for overtime.
"What kind of arrangement is this? I'm living in a fucking attic!"
"Limited budget I'm afraid, you've slept worse in Baghdad." Spencer tried sound cheerful.
"At least I had a window!"
"Look at it as a starting point, Morris. You're back online now, it's all that matters. I've already put out the words for you. You're gonna get plenty of work to build up your credits!"
"I'm low on transportation and ammunition."
"That… you'll have to purchase through your credit, I'm afraid."
Silent.
"Look, you have an easy task, you don't even need anything! All you have to do is to stand guard on work hours, these people just want a show. Besides, don't you have a gun and a car?"
"My 226 and my Honda!"
"That's good enough! Look, just stay put, think of it as a paid vocation!"
Morris put the phone down, playing the spring in his hand. By now the studio has closed and he was left with the key, he locked the place up and smoked in the cold. Pittsburg wasn't as impressive as it sounded, especially not where the studio was located, which was near the highway, with nothing but car dealerships and maintenance stores. The only shop available within walking distance was a convenience store, and a diner in the opposite direction, where he ate his dinner.
He decided to visit the convenience store to refill his cigarettes, he reached into his pocket at the cash registration and felt the recoil spring, he paid and asked the cashier.
"Are there any bars around here?"
"There's one, but not the kind that you'll want to go." the young man replied.
"And what kind of bars do you think I want to go?"
"Simply not there! It's a biker bar, they don't serve outsiders."
"That's exactly my kind of bar!" he smirked.
Troy was looking at his gun parts scattering on the bar table. He regretted leaving in a hurry, now his gun was missing a vital part to function. The bar waitress came, placing a new beer on his table.
"I haven't finish mine yet." he looked up.
"This one's from the gentleman outside, and he said to give you this."
She carefully placed the recoil spring next to glass of beer, all his buddies tensed up.
Chapter 3 : Morning
Abby arrived her studio looking alert. There was a line of motorcycles parked outside her studio, no bikers could be seen, heaven knows what they could be doing inside her shop.
She built up her courage to get out of her car, quietly made her way towards the building. The motorcycles were no doubt from the Ziegler husband and his gang, all carried the smoking bulldog signature. Someone had scratched lines near the bulldog's mouth, in the shape of a penis.
Boy they are going to be piss! Abby thought. I just hope they don't take it out on my studio!
As she walked up to the door it swung open, and a tall biker came out holding a bucket. His face was covered in cuts and bruises, and he stared down at Abby furiously, but gulped it down and said:
"Good morning, Miss Miller."
Abby watched in stun as the giant took the bucket to the side of the building, and began washing the windows. She blinked in disbelieve, walked into the studio and found more bikers, all sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, polishing, all beaten in bruises, some had bandages.
"I want that mirror spotless!" she heard Morris' voice from one of the studios. "Your girls are gonna need it to practice! To win the Nationals! Aren't you proud of them, Troy?"
Abby stepped inside and saw the Ziegler husband, polishing the wall mirrors with two other men, all carrying injuries like the giant she saw outside. They all spotted her in the reflection, turned and nodded.
"Good morning, Miss Miller." they spoke like a class of students greeting their teacher.
"What the hell is going on here?" she asked.
"We all had a little drink last night," Morris came and smiled. He was in a black suit and white shirt, although still unshaven. "And Troy thought it would be good to give his two girls a healthy dancing environment. Didn't you, Troy?"
"Whatever you say!" Troy grunted in defeat.
"Can I talk to you outside?" Abby waved Morris in demand.
Outside the back, Morris took out a cigarette, but put away by the fat lady's murderous glare.
"Just what the hell is going on?"
"Like I said, I ran into them in a bar last night, and we had a few drinks!" Morris shrugged.
"Ran into them? No one RAN IN to their bar!"
Technically, it was more like ran over, with a stolen truck. Morris recalled.
"And you said you had drinks with them?"
"Yeah…" he cocked his head.
Breaking bottles on heads was the usually finale to end his drinking nights….
"Just drinks?"
"Well… did some pool, darts too. Men's game. You get the idea!"
Tooth cracking when shoving a billiard ball up someone's cavity, cue sticks snapping, and stabbing someone's face with a fistful of darts...
"Pool? Darts?" Abby questioned.
"Yeah, to a point we light some fireworks!"
A propane tank exploded in a crossfire fire, along with other flammables, the usual highlights of his party plans…
"And you think they won't come back for this? After they put their minds together?"
"Nope, they'll probably be looking for a new place to settle first." he looked over Abby's shoulder, far away was a trial of rising smoke.
The local fire department should have put it out by now. Dame they are slow!
"Will there be anything else, Miss Miller?" a man asked from behind.
Abby turned and saw a line of injured bikers stood, waiting for instructions. Morris turned to Abby, who cautiously shook her head.
"I think that will be all, gentlemen!" Morris gave his big smile. "Thank you for your support, and I'll see you later for another drink!"
"Hell No!"
The bikers ran like they have just seen a ghost, kick start their choppers and fled away. One was having trouble starting his bike, pushing it away until the engine runs.
"They left one." Abby looked at the last chopper at the parking lot.
"No, they gave me that one! They were sooo nice!" Morris rubbed his hands together.
They walked up to the abandoned bike, the only one without a penis scratch on it.
"It's beautiful. Isn't it?" Morris smiled touching his new toy. "Now, shall we get ready to start the day, Miss Miller?"
"Just Abby!" the fat lady was pleased but did no smile.
Chapter 4 : Catch of the Day
The tv crew was exactly how Abby described, a producer, his assistant and two cameramen.
"Where are your lightning? Where's your sound guy?" Morris asked as they were setting up.
"Been in the business?" one of the crew asked, Morris nodded. "Well that must be decades ago. Now everything will be digitally enhanced back in the studio!"
It's another way of saying: Get the hell out of my way, old man!
So Morris made his exit to resume his post outside. By this time the moms and daughters were pulling in, so he made a headcount out of habit. The Ziegler mother showed up also, with her two daughters, one at each side.
"Off you go, Kenzie, listen to your sister!" she shoved them into the door and went up to Morris, took a moment to decide how to start. "Did you go to see my husband last night?"
"He was here this morning."
The mother looked around nervously, as if afraid he would show up.
"He's gone now. Miss Ziegler."
"He has been stalking us, he has been driving us crazy!" she broke into tears. "He wants Maddie. I couldn't let him break up the two…"
"That's none of my business, Ma'am."
The mother blinked, probably didn't expect such answer.
"My job is to protect the studio, Ma'am, and your girls. How you go on with your life in your business."
She was left puzzled, and then went into the door like she was dream walking. Morris held the door for her, and thought he might as well hold the door for the rest of the moms pouring in, until he spotted something stood out.
The man wore an army coat and fishing hat, he was within the crowd but wasn't accompanied by anyone in particular.
"Excuse me, sir." Morris held out his arm and asked. "Are you with the band?"
"Ah... yes I am!" the man gulped and answered.
"May I see some ID?"
"I've left it at home." he hesitated, and then grew impatient. "Look, I just wanna give this to Chloe!"
Before the man reach into his coat, Morris already caught his arm in a grip.
"Not so fast!" Morris said, with his other hand opened the man's jacket, saw a pink envelope from the inner right pocket.
He released the man and watched him took out the envelope.
"I will pass it to her." Morris opened his hand.
"No! It's personal! I need to give it to her myself!"
"I thought you were with the band."
"But I am… I just… there she is!" the man pointed away, but Morris had his eyes fixed on the man.
"Chloe! Chloe!" he waved the pink envelope in his hand.
"Stay away from her you creep!" Morris heard a mother yelled, recognizing that voice who told him not to smoke in front of her girl.
"Okay! You had your chance. She doesn't want to see you. Beat it!" Morris opened his arms to block the man.
"But I need to see her! I wrote this for her!"
The man turned aggressive, trying to push Morris away.
"Sir, I have to ask you to leave!" Morris said. "Or I'll have to call the police!"
"I need to see her! I need to see her!" the man continued to yell as if didn't hear him.
"Okay, that's it!"
Morris crossed his leg behind the man's knee and swung him heavily to the ground. Before the man knew what happened, he was flipped over eating dirt, his neck pinned under a knee, and his arm bent to his back threatening to snap.
"Call the police." Morris said. Among a dozen of stunned parents, only one reacted, took out her phone and dialed the number.
Police responding time was good, either they were efficient, or there just happened to be a patrol nearby, because it only took minutes for them to show up. Better than the Fire Department for sure! Morris thought.
It was a female training officer and a young male rookie. They locked the hat man in the backseat of the police car and began taking statements.
"First catch of the day? Mr. Morris?" the senior officer looked at his ID and asked. She was short and black, but firm in her posture. The name tag on her chest read Sergeant Kelly.
"Didn't expect a dance school for kids can have so many problems!"
"One pays to be famous." she nodded, taking note.
"Will you send your kids here?"
"If I have kids? Hell no!" Kelly shook her head.
"Felt sorry to them."
"We all do!" she answered to her radio, confirmed and gave back his ID. "You've all checked out, Mr. Morris. Welcome to Pittsburgh!"
"Will I be seeing you again? Sergeant Kelly?"
"Only if you get in trouble, Mr. Morris!"
The officer smiled, got into the police car and drove away, taking the suspect with them.
"That was unnecessary!" the tall blonde woman came up to him and said. "We oppose violence here!"
"Would you prefer if I let him meet your daughter?" Morris lighted a cigarette, hoping to drive her away.
"You could have handled it without violent. The girls didn't have to see this!"
"I think they're liking it!"
He waved to the window, little girls inside were bouncing in excitement. Chloe's mother tugged her girl away with a growl, her daughter look back at Morris with her quiet eyes.
Chapter 5 : Reality and Show
One doesn't take pride running security, there are always people complaining. Morris has work long enough to take it too seriously, he just hoping there are more jobs coming his way.
The Orion system runs on credibility, from high achievements come better jobs, and thereby earning higher credits and benefits, like a loop feeding itself. Agents can trade in their credits for equipment and privileges. Right now he has zero credibility in his account.
"Come on, Spencer! Give me something to get out of this shit hole!" He cursed at his phone, checking for signal to make sure it's working.
He has been in film sets before, but nothing has prepared him for a reality show. There was no script, no plan, nothing organized. Two cameramen, one constantly filming the girls in training, the other staying around the moms like a persistent fly.
There was the producer arguing with Abby about how things should proceed, and there was Abby arguing with the moms on whose daughter should get a solo performance. Twice it got to a point when Abby just walked off the set and left everyone on hold. And it's not even noon yet! Morris looked at his watch.
He felt sorry for the girls, most of them at the growing age of ten to twelve, barely understand the world, and now have Abby screaming at their faces like a grill sergeant, which he considered was harsh enough to make a grown man cry.
"Chloe! You move like a zombie! Mackenzie! Watch how your sister does it!"
Morris observed in progress, picking up all the names and their places in the game: Maddie was the star of the team, like a pride possession to Abby. Her little sister Mackenzie seemed way too young to catch up. Paige has a big sister Brooke who looks nothing like her. Kendall was a confused little girl who always gets caught between the conflict of her mother and Abby. Nia was a talented black girl and Abby's second favorite. And then there was Chloe, quiet and classy, never raise her voice or have a temper. She achieves every kick and meets every turn, yet she was constantly targeted by Abby, like a black sheep of the team.
Many time girls broke into tears, Kendall almost had a panic attack, and all their emotions were captured by the tv crew, ready to be use as public entertainment. It was not a life for children, but it was not his business to say.
Chapter 6 : Side Job
Late one night the Orion icon popped up on the phone screen. Morris jumped to the long waited opportunity.
It came with a description of a snatch job, breaking in and retrieving something of high value, from a small group of armed hostility. Small job, Morris thought, but pays better than a doorman!
He tapped the ACCEPT icon before someone else takes the job, loaded up his gears, locked up the studio and got on the chopper he took from the gang, speed down the highway toward the given destination.
The GPS took him to a remote building in an abandoned industrial district, an exchange was in progress, two groups of men facing each other. They showed their items at hand, one has a bag full of money, the other a briefcase.
Two assistants opened the briefcase for their buyer to verify, he nodded, gave the signal to handover the money.
In the old days, Morris would cut the power, went down and gun them down one by one for the adrenaline. But tonight he was low on ammo, so he took out his phone, hit PLAY and broke out a loud police siren.
Both parties heard the alarm, each claiming the other for selling out to the authority, raised their weapons and broke into a chaotic gun fight. Morris took out his SIG 226, his eyes fixed on the briefcase.
The buyer retreated to his vehicle, only to find his men dead. He pulled out the dead driver and hopped behind the wheel, found the key and turned hard, it didn't respond. Then he felt a cold barrel pressed against the back of his neck.
Morris took the briefcase from him, waved him out of the car and gunned him down anyway, it was an expensive car and he didn't want blood stained all over it.
He was in no hurry leaving. He waited until the last gunshot die down, and then made his way into the building, shooting down any leftover threats, and then began picking up weapons and wallets from the dead, and cigarettes. It wasn't graceful. Anything left in the scene automatically becomes property of the Office, but it isn't a secret where agents pick up a few items for their own benefits.
He loaded his collection into the dead buyer's car, lighted up a smoke and took out his phone, hit MISSION COMPLETE on the app. Moments later a rendezvous point was given, he finished his cigarette and climbed in the car, heading to the given designation.
Twenty minutes later he meets up with a dark van, a young woman in strip suit and glasses came out, took the briefcase and handed to her crew to verify. They nodded, she pressed CONFIRMED on her phone, and a ringtone on Morris's phone notified his credit arrival.
"The cleaner are on the way. Are you going to keep those?" she referred to the car behind him.
"Of course! Look how little you're paying me here! I need other incomes to keep me at this job!"
"Well, I'm happy to see you back again, Agent Morris!" the young woman touched the frame of her glasses and smiled, return to the van and drove off with her crew.
Chapter 7 : The Body Shop
Morris drove the dead buyer's car to a scrap yard. A big redneck in greasy shirt came out to greet him.
"Morris, I never thought to see you again!" he gave him a big huge, so strong it suffocating him.
"Penalty to be poor!" Morris said as air being squeeze out of his lungs.
The shop owner was one of many black market businessmen on Morris' list, and would happily pay for anything he salvaged off a job, from weapons to drugs to stolen goods.
The redneck offered him his figure, Morris accepted, and selected a few things on site. He picked up an AR-15 assault rifle, added a few modifications with whatever parts available. He traded in his old 226 for a Glock 19, and suppressors for both. Lastly he took a bulletproof vest, and along his shopping he spotted a race motorcycle at the corner.
"How much do you want for that?" he asked.
"You don't have enough for that." the redneck shook his head.
"What if I trade it with a Harley?"
The owner's eyes widened.
Chapter 8 : Competition
Abby arrived the studio finding a different motorcycle. She knew nothing about motorcycles, but by the look of it she knew it's a magnet for speeding tickets.
"Good morning! Miss Abby!" Morris showed up all sunshine and smiles.
"What happened to your old bike?"
"I traded it! Do you like this one? "
"Bikes are bikes, and I don't like bikers!" she shook her head and walked pass him.
Morris spent the whole day looking at the new credit he received last night, the amount was small it couldn't get him anything, but it would mean he was back in the system, and if one job completes, more will show up, building hopes to regain his credibility as before.
"Hey!" someone small tugging his jacket, it was Paige from the front desk, except she was standing on both legs.
"Wow, almost didn't recognize you without that cast!" Morris stood back and said.
"You were great the other day. Can you teach me that?" she imitated his moves.
"Not sure, can you afford another broken leg?"
From the far end, Chloe's mother was bringing her daughter in, took one nasty look at him and shoving her daughter away.
"What's her problem?" Morris asked.
"Who? Chloe?" Paige looks where he nodded.
"Her mother. The one giving me the look. I think she and Miss Abby would make a great pair."
"Didn't you know? They are rivalries!"
Paige went on explained that Chloe came from a higher society, that her mother would take no shit from anyone. Abby hated the mother, but they were all under the production contract so she couldn't drive them away, the two has been in conflict since the beginning. In fact, everybody fights, it was how the producer wanted, to stir up more drama for ratings.
"Do you girls need to see therapist?"
"Yeah, ask Kendall. She gets her panic attacks everyday!" she threw a look to the little confuse girl walking into the studio with her mother.
"Paige! Stop bothering that man!" a woman waved from the door.
"No Ma'am! Just me bothering her!" Morris smiled back.
The mother came over. She wore shoulder length hair, jewelry hanging all over, offering her hand for a shake. Morris took it.
"Hi, I didn't get you name."
"Morris, and you don't have to. I'll be away in no time!" twenty two more days and counting!
"What you did the other day was a good thing! We get a lot of creeps around. We're glad to have you here."
"Mom! He's gonna teach me self defense!" Paige was bouncing between the two adult.
"I didn't say that!" Morris corrected. "Now go get to class!"
"Will you be coming with us to the competition this week?" the mother asked.
"Competition?"
"Yes! We have a competition this weekend! Didn't Abby tell you?"
"We don't talk much. She kicked me out of the door."
"Well, we'll all feel better if you be there with us!"
It wasn't until the end of the day Abby came to inform him about the competition.
"You need to inform me in advance! I need to survey the area, setup perimeter. This is not professional!" Morris complained.
"What? You didn't watch the show? We go to competition every week!"
"I don't have cable on the attic."
"Well there're DVDs under the front desk. Watch it! Maybe you'll learn a thing or two about this place!"
The bus leaves at 6:00am in the morning, the sun hasn't even come out yet, but the mothers has already arrived and their daughters in performing costume and makeup.
"You couldn't arrange them to stay overnight? Wouldn't it affect their performance?" Morris swallowed his coffee, hardly awake himself.
"What? And adding expenses to them moms? They're already up to my neck about how much they spend on their daughters every day!" Abby said, screaming at the last girl to get on the bus.
Inside the close quarter of the bus interior, the mothers were chatting and complaining, their girls playing and screaming, and the film crew pushing cameras into everyone's faces. It was worse than any warzone Morris has been in over his long career. He stood there watching Abby climbing up the bus with extreme effort.
"What? You're not coming?" she glared at him.
"I'll catch up on my bike!" Morris watch the bus drove away, lighted a cigarette and enjoys the brief moment of peace.
He over took the bus and arrived location ahead of time, the competition took place in an old theater, and the situation was worse than Morris ever faced.
It was like a red carpet premiere, but without management. Hundreds of children screaming, fans mostly, with mothers, reporters, and a lot of pedestrians, all jammed up at the entrance. Morris stood at the side of the road watching the bus approach.
"Chlo-e! Chlo-e!"
"Ma-ddie! Ma-ddie!"
Hundreds of kids shouted out their names, raising sign boards to show their support, blocking views to the surrounding. TV crews fought over who stand where to capture the arrival, and finally the bus door swung open, the big fat Abby stepped out, waving like a celebrity.
"Make way! Make way!" Morris broke a path.
Red carpet was supposed to be a job for four personnel, two front and two rear, with the path cleared by robes or barricades. Right now it was like breaking through a riot.
"I need you to lead! So I can watch the back!" Morris yelled at Abby under the thunderous screaming.
"I don't need you to tell me what to do! Your job is to watch the girls!" she yelled back, breaking an opening with her mass, like a bowling ball rolling through a set of pins.
Morris did a headcount, Chloe was missing. He look back and found her drowning in the sea of people, he broke his way back and saw a man grabbing her by the arm. He caught the man's wrist and twisted, forcing his fingers to release the girl.
"Don't touch her, you creep!" Morris cursed.
"I just want to picture with her!" the man in his thirties, waving a phone in his other hand.
"She's busy!"
"Who the hell do you think you are?"
The man threw his phone hand backward as if ready to launch a punch, but before he could delivery, he landed heavily on the red carpet, confused at what just happened.
"Stay away from my girls!" Morris adjusted his tie, shoving Chloe back on her path. "Go along! Nothing to see here!"
Back with the group, Paige and Kendall made a wow face, Chloe was trembling, but not by fear but the adrenaline, couldn't help but giggled with her friends.
Things finally settled when he got every girl and mother safely into the changing room. He let out a long relief like he has just crawled out of hell, stood guard outside the door.
Competitions were like the awards ceremonies, what grand presentation upstage comes with a chaotic backstage. Staffs screaming at each other trying to meet the timetable, shoveling team after team of performers from point A to point B, makeup artists and dressers touching up on last seconds before their work go on cameras. Those with experience shows up proud and smiling, others so nervous they vomit right before performing.
The madness continued until late afternoon, with Abby and the moms fighting so loud he could hear outside the door. The team finally made their exit, with upset parents and crying daughters.
"What? Did you lose?" he asked Paige.
"No, we won! But the moms had a big fight with Abby."
"Why?"
"It would be a miracle if they didn't." Paige shrugged.
Exiting the building was no easier, with reporters snapping pictures and winners get interviews, tv crews fighting to capture their own footage, and fans rushing up for autographs.
"Line up! One at the time!" Morris yelled, putting them into an orderly fashion, never thought a children's event could be so aggressive.
The reports followed the team all the way to the bus, and they didn't stop there. Some paparazzi hopped onto a pickup truck and followed, flashing their lights at the bus at no cost.
They're blinding the driver! Morris thought, jumped on his bike and went after.
The pickup truck caught up with the bus, snapping photos like they just discovered a rare species, too busy to notice the motorcycle pulled up to their right. Morris pulled out his gun, pointed at the front tire and fired a shot. The truck spun out of control, steered off road and into a ditch, all after Morris slipped his gun back in his jacket.
He rode side by side escorting the bus, the girls waving at him from the window, he waved back, until he met Abby's glare, probably witnessed what he did, shaking her big head in disapproval.
It has passed midnight by time the bus arrived the studio, the moms and girls were exhausted, dragging their ways across the parking lot and into their own cars, but Abby was still yelling.
"Don't forget practice at nine tomorrow!"
"Yes, Miss Abby!" the girls responded like it was their last breath.
"Tomorrow is Sunday. Don't they get a rest? They just won for you!" Morris protested.
"This is why I'm hiring and you are working. The Elite Team DON'T rest!" Abby with her hands on her hips. "And I saw what you did on the road. Don't you let my girls or their moms see it. They'll go berserk!"
"Yes, Miss Abby!" Morris responded, like it was his last breath.
Chapter 9 : Dedicating
The Orion task system distributes jobs by prioritizing workload, like a courier. The more tasks one completes, the more offers one gets, and Morris has been taking as many tasks as he could in his spare time, hoping to reach his old score. He constantly checks his phone apps for new tasks, booking them before someone else took over.
But his long nights made his day job drowsy and unfocused, which was unacceptable, so he decided to dedicate his workloads to the girls.
He agreed to teach Paige self defense, she jumped to the opportunity of course. Her mother approved it only if her sister Brooke comes along. They would pull thirty minutes each day between school and practice. Kendall soon joined, at the request of her mother Jill, hoping it would help her daughter to build courage, to cure her anxiety issues, that and because it was free of charge.
"D'you wanna give it a try, Maddie?" he asked the girl who watched from a distance.
"No thank you." she shook her head politely. "Miss Abby doesn't want me to do anything that may risk injury."
"Injury? I'll get severely injured doing half the things that you girls are doing!"
"I don't think so. Not after seeing what you did." she smiled.
Then it struck him that she might be referring to what he did to her father on the first day.
"Hey, I'm sorry you have to see that!" he apologized.
"No, I think he deserved it…." she shook her head and smiled. "From time to time."
Maddie was ten years old, but already talks like an adult. She was the ace of the Elite Team and Abby's favorite, but never had it over her head, always a hard working girl in everyone's eyes. Her competitive partner Chloe however, hasn't show up in days.
A police car pulled into the driveway and Kelly stepped out.
"Sergeant Kelly!" Morris let out a big smile. Kelly was the only female of appropriate age that he felt comfortable talking to.
"Mr. Morris! I see you're already making friends!" she waved at the girls.
"Just a little self defense class. I can't keep my eyes on all of them twenty four seven!" he straightened his clothes. "How may I help you today?"
"Just want to update you on your handy work. The guy you put down? Wants to sue you for a dislocated shoulder."
"Will that be a problem?" Morris raised his eyebrows.
"Maybe." Kelly cocked her head. "But we also found his prints matching the delivery that was sent to your studio. So I guess he isn't going anywhere."
That means I can go somewhere! Mission accomplished! Morris cheering in his mind.
"So, congratulation on your first catch, Mr. Morris." she smiled. "The girls are safer now having you here."
"Do I get a reward?" Morris moved closer, she didn't back away.
"You can take her to dinner!" Paige popped her head from behind, her friends giggled.
"Hey! Don't interrupt when the adults are talking!" Morris glared, and then back to Kelly. "Kids! Please don't mind them!"
"None taken!"
She returned to her car and started the engine, popped her head out the window and asked:
"You still have my card, right?"
"Right here!" Morris tapped his heart, watching the police vehicle rode away. Behind him, the girls were all hopping and cheering.
"DATE! DATE! DATE!"
Chapter 10 : Kelly
She would feel less nervous facing a gun fight. She hasn't anything to wear, and was checking at the mirror in her forth outfit. It has been years since her last date, that long since she went shopping for something decent. Being a female officer wasn't the favorite profession most men would look for.
In the end she gave up and showed up in the only dress she had, a floral short sleeve dress that she almost forgotten she had.
She drove to the restaurant she picked, a cheap seafood restaurant that her father used to take her. It was the only decent restaurant she could afford.
Morris already had a table at the far corner, given him the full view of the environment. A smart choice, she thought, a tactical advantage that she would take, and wonder if he picked it for the same purpose.
"You look beautiful!" Morris stood up and pulled out a chair for her, something she never experienced.
"Thank you!" she blushed, another thing she long forgotten. "I hope you don't mind this place. It's a little old but they have good crabs."
"Then crab we shall have!"
Dinner began with the usual formality, exchanging career and how they ended up here. Kelly grew up locally, followed her father's footstep to become a policewoman, and he to his father.
Morris talked little about his work around the globe, telling stories that could only be told, avoiding sensitive or confidential details, because not all his stories were charming, especially not to a person of authority. Luckily Kelly was more fascinated the way he ate his crab.
"Learned it in China, best food in the world!" Morris shared some onto her plate. "They said the best crab eaters can piece them back together afterward."
"I've never been to China, not even out of state!"
"You should! It's a big world out there!" but not all for tourists, he thought.
The night ended with them standing outside the restaurant, deciding who should invite the other home. Just then, then the app rang.
"Sorry!" Morris took out his phone, the Orion logo opened up to a list of details. Kelly watched his face changed, like someone who just got hit by a truck.
"Something's wrong?"
"Duty calls." Morris answered annoyingly.
"The studio?"
"No, freelance." he swallowed and shoved the phone back in his pocket, thinking how to end the evening without upsetting his date.
"At this time of night?"
"Yeah, sucks to be poor!" he rolled his eyes. "I'm so so sorry!"
"I know." she nodded smiling. "So long as you don't mind me pulled to duty on our next date!"
"I take that as an invitation!"
She smiled, kissed him and then patted him on the cheek, stepped into her car and drove away.
"Did you see that? He didn't even invite her over!" Paige said.
"No wonder he's single!" her big sister snorted.
"Maybe he's just being polite?" Kendall asked, looking at the time. "Shouldn't we be heading home? Your mom will be back soon!"
"Relax! My mom is with your mom, and we all know what that means!"
Brooke started the car, steered it behind Morris' Honda. The girls' moms were having poker night, which usually means less poker and more gossiping under alcoholic beverages. Kendall was placed with the Hyland sisters, her ever concerning mother still sees her as a baby, and probably will until she is thirty. And when the girls felt bore and landed on the topic of Morris and Officer Kelly, they couldn't resist but stole the family car and went scouting.
They saw Morris returned to the studio, entered so hurry he didn't kill the engine.
"Shall we go up and ask?"
"No. He's coming back!" Brooke observed. "I have a better idea!"
Chapter 11 : Partners in Crime
Morris threw his gears in the back of his trunk, jumped behind the wheel and stepped on gas. He placed his phone on the magnetic stand and hit TASK MANAGER, it answered after a short period of ringing.
"Give me all the details!" he said as he speed down the highway.
"All task details given." a woman's voice replied in a no-hurry tone.
"I meant how long ago! How did it happen? What were the demands?"
"Information irrelevant. All task details given."
"I need to know!" Morris insisted.
A moment later, the voice began.
"Subject was taken seventy two hours ago, kidnapper demanded no police involved. Subject's family paid ransom eighteen hours ago but got no response. Scanners picked up the transmission and reported, Office took initiative to contact subject's family. Contract approved. We traced the caller and sent you the destination. Subject, female Caucasian…"
"Thank you!"
He heard what he needed to know and cut the line, flipped through the details once more. Orion outsources people call Scanners, they monitor police radio and listen to private phone calls, strictly illegal. Scanners would bring in potential cases, and gets a percentage in the final outcome. It's a good thing they spotted this one! He thought.
"That's Chloe!" Paige couldn't help yelled out as she saw the picture on the display.
"Jesus!" Morris jumped, almost lost his steering. '"How the hell did you get in here?"
"We followed you, wanting to know how your date went." Brooke popped out and said.
"Sorry, Mr. Morris! I was dragged into this!" Kendall apologized.
"Are there anymore of you? The whole Elite Team maybe?" he reached back to see if he could grab anyone else from the dark in the backseat.
"Hey! Watch where your hand is going!" Brooke protested.
"Where are we going?" Kendall asked. "We need to be home real soon!"
"WE!" Morris emphasized. "are not going anywhere! YOU, are going home!"
"Is Chloe in trouble? Was she kidnapped?" Kendall asked.
"That's classified!"
He checked the GPS, the next exit was 20 miles away, no resting diners he could drop the girls, and he definitely cannot leave them on the highway. The clock is ticking!
Thirty minutes later he pulled into a small road, killed the engine and turned to the girls.
"All right! Listen to me very carefully!"
"Are we gonna rescue Chloe?" Paige asked excitingly.
"No! You're not going to do anything! You're going to stay in the car until I come back!"
"What if you don't come back?" Kendall worried.
"Yeah! What if you get kill?" Brooke asked, more a challenge than a concern.
"Thanks for the confidence!"
Morris stepped out of the car, opened the trunk and loaded up his assault rifle, threw it over his shoulder and slipped extra magazines in his tactical vest.
"Is that a gun?" the Hyland sisters came and asked.
"What did I say about staying in the car?"
"I just want to see the guns!"
"Let's make one thing very clear!" Morris holstered his sidearm and slammed the trunk shut. "You didn't see anything! You didn't hear anything or know anything. You are dreaming all these and forget about it when you wake up tomorrow. Is that clear?"
The girls nodded quietly. Morris made sure they all got back in the car once more, and then disappeared into darkness.
"Is he gonna be back? What if he left us? What if he got killed and the bad guys found us?" Kendall sat nervously, looking out the dark.
"Yeah, we're most likely get kill if mom finds out!" Brooke snorted, always in her rebellious attitude.
"I can't believe it. Chloe got kidnapped..." Paige said shaking her hair, she and Chloe weren't that close, but they were still friends.
"Guys... err..." Kendall began rocking on her seat. "I need to pee…"
"You're not serious!" Brooke glared at her.
"I need to pee when I get panic!"
"So go!"
"I… can someone go with me?" Kendall blushed.
"You've got to be kidding!"
Soon all three girls were squatting in the thick bushes not far away, the Hyland sisters finished and got up, Kendall was having trouble, looked around and found herself all alone in the wilderness.
"Hey! Where are you guys?" she whispered but got no answer. She hissed out louder. "Guys?... Paige? Brooke?"
Suddenly a strong hand covered half her face, so tight she couldn't breathe. She thought it was the death of her.
"I told you to stay in the car!" Morris hissed into her ear. "And what… oh shit!"
Kendall was so frighten she lost her bladder. Morris let go of her, examine the wetness on his boots.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Kendall cried in embarrassment.
"Shut up and get in the car! NOW!"
Morris half dragged, half shoving the little girl through the bushes, while trying to shake off the dampness from his pants. Kendall did up her pants with trembling fingers, looked up and saw Chloe already inside the car, between Paige and Brooke. She was white as a sheep.
"Sit in the front!" Morris instructed.
Kendall yanked the door with what remained of her aftershock, got in and shut the door. Morris slipped behind the wheel, stomped on gas and drove off.
Seeing the subject is safe, he took out his phone and sent the COMPLETE signal, moments later he received a coordinated. He reached the spot twenty minutes later, pulled into a stop, killed the engine and turned to the girls.
"Now listen to me very carefully." he scanned from one face to another. "In a moment there will be people here to pick up Chloe. They will deliver you home safely."
Chloe nodded in silence, still in shock.
"You are not going to say anything about what happened tonight, especially about seeing me, or Brooke or Paige or Kendall. You're going to say that you escaped and hitchhiked your way home. Your parents will be told the same story. I don't exist. Do you understand?"
Chloe nodded again. Morris turned to others.
"And YOU! Are going to say that you went to a movie, had milkshakes, lost time and got home late!"
"The theater is playing Chainsaw Massacre. They don't allow us in." Brooke said.
"Well make up something!" Morris began to get annoyed by the teenager. "Just don't mention anything about me! As far as you know, I'm just a doorman! Is that clear?"
"Affirmative!" Brooke rolled her eyes and gave a poor salute.
Moments later a black van pulled up, men in suit confirmed subject identity.
"You with them, Chloe. You're at safe hands." Morris said, handing over to the task manager.
"Agent Morris, been busy lately!" the same young woman in the same stripe suit smiled.
"Next time give me all the details!" Morris grunted.
"We don't want to make it too easy for you now, wouldn't we?" she touched the frame of her glasses.
She punched into her phone and transferred the credits, waved her men into the van and drove off. Morris sat in the driver's seat with a sigh, looking at his new credit.
"Did she just call you Agent Morris? You're a spy or some kind?" the shock wore off, the girls' excitement returned.
"You didn't hear that! You were all…"
"Watching Chainsaw Massacre, and went to have milkshakes!" Brooke spoke like a brat.
"Yeah, something like that! Or I'll tell everyone Kendall pee on my pants!"
"No I did not!" Kendall protested, and then blushed into silence.
Chapter 12 : Chloe
Recovering from post traumatic stress was never easy, especially for an eleven years old girl, who went through abduction, hash restraints, caught in middle of a gun battle, and found herself surrounded with dead people.
That night when Chloe returned home and into her family's embrace, her mother was crying hard, but she wasn't. Her life was changed forever.
She grew up in a protective home, flourished by the ever satisfying wealth. She used to think of nothing but herself, and was taught that there was nothing her family fortune couldn't solve, until the day she was taken.
Her unfortunate experience not only scarred her, but also made her think of those who may not be as lucky as herself.
Chloe returned to the dance studio shortly after, under the strong objection from her ever protective mother. Abby said it would be best to have her competing again, the conversation soon turned into an aggressive argument. The producer was happy of course, busy pointing the cameramen what to shoot.
For once Morris would agree with Abby. He has seen many survivors from PTSD, and the best way to recover was to focus elsewhere, but it was not his place to interfere beyond his duty, so he went outside for a smoke.
Half way down his cigarette, someone tucked his sleeve from behind. It was Chloe.
"Mr. Morris?" she asked quietly, as if afraid her mother may found out.
"What is it, Chloe? Are you okay?"
"I just want to say thank you. For what you did." she said in her usual quiet voice.
"I didn't do anything as far as you remember, except had Kendall pee on me!"
Chloe burst out a chuckle, but soon returned to her dignity.
"I saw what you did to the men..."
"Hey, I'm really sorry you had to see that!" what he did was to his own justification, which was never appropriate for any civilians.
"They were never planning to let me go, weren't they?"
The people who took Chloe were organ traffickers, wanted to make some extra money before they operate on the little girl. Morris did not give them a satisfying death.
"You really shouldn't think of them. That stuff... weren't meant for children."
"No. I'm all right." she shivered, thinking how close she came to losing her life. She forced out a smile and said, "Somehow I felt peaceful, knowing that they'll never hurt anyone again."
"You be careful okay? There are a lot of twisted people out there. Not every day your mother can watch over you. She gets distracted easily. See what I'm saying?" he nodded towards the window, her aggressive mother was still yelling with Abby, not even aware that her daughter has walked away.
"Can you teach me?" Chloe bit her lips.
"What?"
"Like the others. Can you teach me self defense?"
"You're welcome to join us whenever you want, Chloe. So long as your mother let you."
"She won't." she shook her head undoubtedly. "But so long as she doesn't know!" she smiled for the first time.
To pull time out of her day between school and dance and homework, Chloe has to wake up at 5:30am in the morning, snuck out home and run five miles to the studio. Morris could only give her an hour of training, before she has to run back home, pretending she just finished her morning jog.
In the beginning Morris thought she would give up on the third day, but her will and stamina was beyond his expectation, the girl has grown up vulnerable under the care and protection of her family, and now she hates herself for being weak.
"Use it!" Morris taught her. "Learn to control your hate, your anger, and use it in the right places."
Chloe sets her mind on what she could have done in the incident, and how she would face it in future situations, turning her trauma and rage into bursting energy. She already has great physical from her dancing background, picking up techniques faster than any adults Morris had seen.
The Hyland sisters were also doing well, especially Brooke, who was flexible as much as powerful for a teenager. Paige and Kendall were given a different set of training, based on their size and strength. To make up for their physical disadvantage as young girls, Morris also taught them environmental tactics, and using their size, age and gender to their advantage.
Chapter 13 : Exposure
Another competition day, another chaotic crowd to deal with. Abby broke a path with her heavy mass, and Morris covering from the rare. Paige and Kendall were caught behind by reporters, and soon swamped up by people, someone grabbed Kendall by the arm and she screamed in panic.
"Hey you! Stay away from my girls!" Morris broke into the crowd to rescue the two girls.
Before he could reach them, a heavy thump silenced the crowd, Morris arrived the scene and found Paige stood with hands at her hips and a foot on the offender's chest.
"Stay away from my girl!" she imitated Morris.
The offender, a teenage boy, was lying flat on the floor, his eyes staring at the ceiling, still figuring out how he got there.
"All right! Nothing to see here!" Morris quickly shoved Paige and Kendall away.
"Wow! I can't believe you just did that!" Kendall gasped.
"I didn't know I could do it either!" Paige returned her look in excitement.
Abby stood outside the dressing room in her usual displeasing posture, shaking her head from side to side, Morris wasn't sure it was of him or the girls.
Chloe performed her first solo since her recovery, her mind was flooded with the image of that night, the terror and fear that she wanted to escape. She didn't think of her choreography, only realized at the end, that there were thunderous applause from the audience. She came first place but she wasn't happy, her mind was elsewhere and she didn't think she deserved it.
Abby wasn't happy either, not of Chloe winning over her precious Maddie, expressed her anguish dissatisfaction at backstage. Chloe's mother Christi responded of course, with equally aggressive manner. Chloe simply smiled at Kendall and the Hylands, as if nodding to their little secret.
The video of Paige brought down a boy twice her size went viral over the internet, and so was the show, turning Morris' final week into a nightmare. Every day he has to withstand chaos from the production team, media channels and paparazzi, all jammed up at the parking lot.
"Is it true you taught them self defense?"
"Where do you stand on human justice and youth violence?"
"What message do you have for the kids today?"
"Eat your vegetables!" Morris answered them flatly and shut the door behind him. He has long experience dealing with reporters, and the less he pleased them the better.
Shutting the door to madness, Morris walked into another kind of madness.
"Look what you did to my place!" Abby came screaming at his face.
"Hey, I thought you wanted publicity!"
"How can I run my studio in this kind of mess?"
"Think about it, Miss Abby. You may just get famous without working with this shitty crew. No offense! " he turned to the camera crew just ears away.
They were getting ready to leave for the national competition, and Morris was looking forward to a vocation. A month at this place felt like a hellish year.
"Girls! We're leaving!" Abby yelled from the bus.
"Fifteen more minutes!" the producer yelled back. "The station wanted more of the girls interviewed!"
"We can't wait!"
"You have a contract!"
Frustrated, Abby instructed Morris to bring Chloe, Kendall and the Hyland sisters afterward. He nodded and signaled her to take off with the team.
The producer's fifteen minutes lasted forty five, and Morris hurried the girls into his Honda and shut the door. However, the interview didn't stop there with the girls.
"Is it true that you were in Special Forces?"
"They said you were in Navy Seal?"
"Were you like James Bond?"
"Don't let people screw with your head! They're just fishing blind!" Morris tried to focus on the road.
"But you must be something, right? Chloe said you killed all those men!"
"I didn't say any of it!" Chloe corrected.
"You girls shut up! I'm trying to make a four hour drive in two!" Morris yelled annoyingly, thanking that he didn't have kids.
There was a moment of silence, and then Paige started again.
"Can we get off the road for ice cream?"
"No!"
"Milkshake?" Brooke asked.
"You've got to be shitty me!" Morris cursed.
"I'm not kidding!" Brooke raised her eyebrows. "We need to get off the road. We have a tail!"
"What?"
From the rear mirror, Morris saw two black vans approaching, soon one passed them and blocking ahead, the other stayed on their side.
"Okay, listen to me very carefully!" Morris tried to keep a calm voice.
"Uh oh!" Paige detected the familiar tone.
"I want you all to check your safety belts!"
"What's going on?" Kendall began panting fast.
"I'm going to shake off some tails!"
He stomped on breaks and made a sudden escape from the rear opening, the vans caught off guards, maneuvering to adjust. Morris speed up again, made a narrow escape between the two vans.
"Who are they?"
"Friend of yours, Chloe?"
Chloe shook her head nervously.
Suddenly, the window exploded into snowflake, the girls screamed under the heavy wind.
"Get down! Stay down!" Morris yelled, swinging the car from side to side, making themselves a difficult target.
Ahead of them were a big truck and a car driving side by side, blocking both lanes of the road. The moving truck opened its container, dropping a ramp to the ground.
Morris looked into his side and rear, now he was blocked from all directions, the vans had their doors slide open, men armed with automatic rifles pointing at him. He can't fight his way out, not with his Glock, and especially not risking the girls.
"All right! Here's how it goes." he took a deep breath. "In a moment we're gonna be taken."
"What? Like the movie?" Paige asked.
"Yes... No! Shut up!" Morris cleared his throat. "I don't know who they are, and I don't know what they want!"
"Just like the movie!"
"Shut up!" Morris said again, cursing at movies that stole all the lines. "They want something, so they want us alive. We do what they say for now, until I can figure a way out of this! Whatever you do…"
"Don't give out our identities?" Brooke asked.
"Don't tell Abby! She'll kill me if she finds out!"
He shifted a gear and hit the ramp, drove his Honda up and into the 40 foot container.
Chapter 14 : Way Out
They were taken to an abandon factory, Morris was tied to a chair, the four girls kneeling on the floor opposite to him, with their hands zip-tied behind their backs, Kendall was panicking so bad Morris afraid she was going to pee again.
He assessed the situation. There were two men guarding the girls with semi-automatic rifles, two more standing behind a short man in grey suit and glasses, whom he believe to be the boss, and two more standing on his either side, seven in total. He then compared this number to the necessary men power to pull that road heist, estimating a minimum of ten men.
"Who are you, and what did you do with my briefcase?" the man in glasses asked.
"I work for the environmental department. You're using non-recyclable briefcase and I had to incinerate it!"
The man next to Morris punched him in the gut, hard enough the girls cried. The man in glasses inspected the ID in his wallet.
"Global Security. What is that?"
"It's a babysitting agency!" Morris received another punch.
"Mr. Morris, I'm losing patience!"
"Then can you let me go deliver my girls? I promise to come right back!" he smirked showing his teeth.
The man in glasses picked up Morris phone, touched the screen and it was locked.
"Pass code?" he demanded.
"It's your birthday, twenty ten, drop dead!"
The guards threw him more punches, their boss took off his glasses and began wiping it with a cloth.
"I don't think you're seeing the situation here. Mr. Morris! You have taken something very valuable from me, and I need it back!"
"Let the girls go, and I'll give you want you want!"
"You are not in the position of negotiating."
"Yes I am." Morris smirked in agony. "or I'll tell you how this is going to end. You will kill the girls in front of me, one by one, whom I don't give a shit because they're not mine!"
"Hey!" Brooke protested.
"And you'll kill me because you're not getting what you want. I faced death more than all your men have killed, and I have nothing more looking forward then to die giving you the dissatisfaction."
The boss thought a bit, put back his glasses and waved to his men. The two guarding the girls pulled them to their feet, shoving them toward a doorframe.
"Now. The code please. Mr. Morris." the man in glasses raised the phone.
"Not so fast!" he turned to the girls. "Brook!"
"Yeah!" she stopped and turned.
"Yell again when you reach one hundred steps, so I know you're far enough!"
The two guards disappeared behind the wall with the girls, until they heard Brooke's distance voice.
"One Hundred!"
"Mr. Morris, if you please!" the man in glasses offered the phone again.
"It's my fingerprint." Morris said.
The man gave the phone to one of his guard, who went behind Morris and placed the screen at his thumb. The screen glowed.
The girls were brought down from the fire staircase, and through a narrow corridor where they came in. Kendall hesitated and said:
"I need to pee."
"Me too!" Paige stopped and nodded to her sister.
Suddenly, four little girls began whining and the two guards didn't know what to do. Eventually one sent Paige to a corner, she squatted down and turned to him.
"I'll need my hands, or do you want to help pull down my panties?"
The guards exchanged looks uncomfortably. Despite the tough men they were, neither wishes to become a pedophile joke to their future colleagues. One took out a knife began to cut the zip-ties on the girls' wrists one by one.
The man with glasses received the phone, looking at the screen displeased.
"It still needs a pass code!"
"It's zero zero, nine eleven."
"That's the most stupid pass code I ever heard!" he snorted and punched in the combination, the screen went blank again.
"What happened?"
"It takes a minute. I use a Samsung phone!" Morris smirked.
"I think you are wasting my time, Mr. Morris!" the man said impatiently, waving his hand. "Take him out and shoot him. Get me someone to access this phone!"
They released Morris from the chair, took him to the underground parking lot and threw him against a wall. The guards rounded up and kicked him down to the ground. The man with glasses received a gun from his man, lined up Morris in his sight.
"Any last words, Mr. Morris? It may just save your life."
"Wait!" a girl yelled out.
Chloe, Kendall and the Hyland sisters jumped out from nowhere, stood into a line fencing Morris.
"What the…" both Morris and the men were stunned.
"I told you to go!" Morris yelled.
"No!" Chloe said, turning to the man in glasses. "If you're going to shoot him, you'll have to go through us!"
"Little girl, don't think for a moment I'll hesitate to shoot you because you wear braces."
"Do you have something against braces?" Chloe narrowed her eyes.
She has run this scene in her head a thousand times, facing an undefeatable enemy, threatening her life with deadly weapons. She kept her voice slowly and calm, but building up her rage deep inside, ready to launch in the ways Morris has taught her.
"I'm going to count to three!" the man in glasses raised his gun.
"No!" Chloe and her friends joined hands, pulling each other closer, blocking Morris from his view. "I'm going to count to three, just like doing a Twins Split!"
Morris heard a familiar word, one that he has heard through hundreds of hours of dance classes, and then he spotted Chloe doing something with her fingers. She tugged her dress slightly, hinting something bulked up behind her dress. Brooke next to her did the same, revealing the metallic piece under her denim jacket.
"One!" Chloe began to count. "Two!"
On three, Chloe and Brooke shifted to either side like a dance, opening a gap where Morris popped up. He extended his arms and fired both guns at the same time, one high velocity bullet hit the man with glasses right in the middle, punctured the bridge between the two frames and into his skull, the other bullet hit the man to his left, into his throat and dropped him like a stone.
The girls hopped aside and ran for cover, allowing Morris to begin his killing spree, turning and firing in his own dance, gunning down anyone in his sights. He emptied his guns and ducked behind a wooden crate, undergo a rain of splinters as they concentrate their fire.
"Girls?" he yelled out.
"Here!" they yelled back from different locations.
"I need ammo!"
Brooke saw a gun on the ground and kicked it to his direction. Kendall reached the man lying on the ground, pilling his fingers off the gun handle.
"Sorry!" she cried, took his gun in her trembling hands, throwing it into Morris' direction.
Morris picked up whatever was given and returned fire, gunning down more men, picking up more ammo as he was doing so, until the place was left with nothing but white smoke and dead people.
"Girls!" he called out again.
"Yes!" he counted four voices.
"Area secure!" he turned back and saw their heads popping out from different locations. "Check for injuries!"
"I think this man got hit in the chest." Kendall pointed, still shaken.
"No! Check yourself!" Morris said. "And each other!"
"We're fine!" Brooke replied.
They took their hidings well! Morris nodded.
Shortly, a sound of rotors grew from a distance, but soon turned thunderous above their heads, so heavy the ground was shaking.
"More people?" Chloe asked.
"Cavalry!" Morris holstered his gun and took the girls outside, watching a big helicopter landing in the opening.
"How did they know?"
"My phone. There's a distress code." Morris explained, then shouted out to the exiting crew. "You're late!"
The same task manager, the young woman who they saw picked up Chloe, walked up in her black suit and glasses, behind her was a squadron of men in tactical gear, running into the scene to secure the area.
"We came as soon as we got the signal!" the task manager yelled back under the loud motor, looking at the girls. "But I see that you've got it all sorted out!"
"You should see us kicking asses!" Paige smiled.
"You? I remember I was the one taking them down!" Morris protested.
"You were beaten into a wall like a sandbag!" the little girl threw him a punch, others laughed, so did Chloe.
"You girls did well!" Morris grunts and nodded. "Now let's get you to the competition!"
Chapter 15 : Arriving in Style
Abby stood outside the theater waiting, with one hand at her hip and the other on the phone. It finally got through.
"Morris! Where are my girls!" she yelled at the phone.
"We're on our way! Will be there momentarily!" Morris yelled back under the noisy background.
"What's that sound at the back? Where are you right now?"
"We're coming around! You should see us by now!"
Abby looked down both side of the street, it was the National competition and everywhere stood kids and parents and reporters, the road was jammed with traffics, no sign of Morris.
"I still don't see you!"
"We're coming around now!"
Right after he said it, heavy rotor filled the air, followed by a dusty wind storm as a huge helicopter showed up in the sky. People on the pedestrian looked up in disbelieve, every reporter pointed their cameras toward the giant floating machine.
"Oh my God! Are they going to land?" some asked.
The helicopter pulled into a stationary position, dropped a thick robe from either side. Shortly, figures began sliding down the rope and landing on the road, and then running towards the pavement, making way for the next one lowering down.
"I owe you this!" Morris yelled to the task manager.
"It will be charged from your credit!" she smiled.
"Don't remind me!"
He held on the rope and slide 50 feet to the ground, ran to where the girls was gathering. He made a head count as the helicopter flew away, and then ordered them to follow him in a single file.
Chloe, Brooke, Paige and Kendall, all walk through the shocking pedestrians like it was their daily routine, dressed in their studio jacket of black and pink, the word Abby Lee Dance Company clearly showing at the crowds and cameras.
They reached Abby at the entrance, who was in her usual upsetting face, glaring furiously at Morris.
"See? Just in time!" Morris delivered a smile, which disappeared shortly by Abby's murderous eyes.
"We're gonna talk later!" she shoved the girls inside. "Hurry up! You girls are late!"
"Sorry, Miss Abby!" they have just survived a gun battle, but nothing was scarier than their coach.
Chapter 16 : End of Contract
The National competition ended just like any other, with chaotic fighting between Abby and the moms, despite they won many trophies.
Morris was outside smoking, looking at his empty credits. He has just spent them all on the helicopter ride and not knowing where he'll go next.
He packed all his belongings the next morning, left the key on the reception table, went out the door, and bumped into Abby face on.
"Where do you think you are going?"
"Contract ends. You don't need me anymore." he lighted a cigarette, not give a damn what she thinks now.
Abby snatched the cigarette out of his mouth, and Morris watched in disbelief as she took it between her lips and inhaled deeply, held it in her lung for long seconds, and then blew a thick ring of smoke onto his face, leaving him stunned and speechless.
"What? Did you think I've never seen a helicopter before?" she puffed out another smoke, and then dropped the cigarette on the ground, extinguished it under her shoes. "I quit years ago!"
"From the service?"
"No! From smoking, you idiot!" she yelled at his face. "You're not going anywhere!"
"I'm not? You're rehiring me?"
"Me? Hell no!" she shook her head undoubtedly. "The station is! They're going to draw up a monthly contract with you!"
"Wait, the tv crew?" Morris questioned in discomfort.
"Yes! You're gonna hang around in front of the camera!"
"I don't think I can! My work requires absolute privacy…"
"Oh grow up!" Abby shoving him aside and heading for her door. "At least you have an excuse to point a gun to their heads! I don't! Now get your things upstairs and stop blocking my doorway!"
Miss Abby Lee Miller, bad-assing herself into the studio, ready for another day of chaos.
[END]
