As Peter was led to the cars, still carrying Marissa, He listened for any sound from the house. There were no more gunshots, the two Agents must have been taken out. Peter felt sick.
One of the men opened a car door and motioned with his gun for Peter to get in, but Peter hesitated, glancing back towards the house. He just wanted to wait for a second more, he wanted to hear if there were any more gunshots.
"Get in the car," the man barked. "Or I'll make you!"
Peter turned back around and carefully climbed into the car, still holding Marissa. The door on the other side of the car opened and one of the other men came in and sat down next to him. Peter sat in the middle and held Marissa on his lap while the first guy climbed in and sat down on his other side, shutting the door behind him.
The other man got into the drivers seat and started the engine, and then they waited for a few moments before the door to the passenger seat opened and the first guy, the man who had jumped through the window, got in.
"We're clear," he said. "But we need to be as fast and as quiet as possible. Keep all the lights off."
"Yes, boss," the driver said, shifting gears and pulling away from the house.
No sooner had they got onto the street, however, when several black cars raced around the corner towards them, opening fire.
"Shoot!" The boss said. "Shoot, shoot, shoot!"
The driver hit the gas and turned the car into a skid, spinning it around and then speeding away from the cars. A few of them began to chase them.
"I SAID SHOOT," The boss yelled, pulling out his gun and rolling down his window.
The two thugs in the backseat realized what he meant and also pulled out their guns, rolling their windows down as well. Wind poured into the car as they sped down the street, the three gangsters leaning from the window and shooting at the cars behind them, then ducking back when fire was returned.
Peter shut his eyes and ducked his head, holding Marissa tightly as the car lurched and spun and the wind whipped onto their faces. Marissa let out a small yell at the sound of each gunshot, and Peter didn't know whether to wish for whoever was chasing them to hit their target or not. If the boss was stopped, maybe he and Marissa would get rescued. But whoever was chasing them had no way of knowing that he and Marissa were even in the car; if the car was taken out, it could crash, or roll over, or even catch fire. They could be hurt.
"Take a left turn here," the boss yelled over the noise. The driver turned down an alley, and sped through it. "Now turn left," the driver yelled. "And then turn left again. Hide in the old garage. I'll try to slow them down!"
Leaning back out the window, the boss shot several times in succession while the driver did as he was told. After three sharp turns, causing Peter to lurch heavily into one of the thugs beside him, the car screeched to a stop and all the gang members opened the doors and rushed out, slamming them behind them.
Peter turned around and looked out the back window, they were in some kind of a warehouse, and the thugs were pulling an old garage door shut, sealing the warehouse from the rest of the street.
Peter heard the sound of a car roar past the building, and felt his hopes of a quick rescue speed away right along with it.
The four gang members all laughed quietly, and then walked back to the car.
Opening the door, the boss grabbed Peter's arm and pulled him out of the car, then he took Marissa away from him and nodded to the two thugs, who promptly began tying his hands behind his back while the driver put a gag in his mouth.
"Alright, Junior," the boss said. "Here's what's gonna happen. We're going to wait here for the night, until things have calmed down. Then, we're going to take you and your sister over to HQ to meet Mr. Thorn. If you try to run away, I will shoot the girl. If you try to send for help, I will shoot the girl. If you so much as try to speak, I will shoot the girl. Do you understand?"
Peter nodded, and the two thugs led him to a small room in the back of the warehouse. Opening the door, they shoved him inside, and then shut the door behind him, sending the small room into utter darkness. With a click, the door was locked and Peter was alone.
Black. Everything was black. There was a rushing sound in his ears, pounding through his brain and drowning out all other sounds.
But wait... he thought he did hear something else...
The waters receded somewhat and he could definitely hear something over them. "...Micky..."
He tried moving, he felt a sudden pain in his head and he groaned.
"...think he's waking up... hear me? ...Micky, wake..."
He groaned again and lifted his hand to his head. What happened?
Suddenly everything came back to him and he started awake with a gasp.
"Micky, It's alright, you're safe," he heard. Looking up, he saw Howie looking down at him in concern. "How do you feel? What do you remember?"
Micky looked around, he was still in the living room, the furniture pushed away from the door and the window broken, glass everywhere. Mike and Davy were still unconscious, as was Polly. Peter and Marissa were nowhere to be seen.
Micky turned to Howie. "Peter," he said hoarsely. "They took Peter and Marissa."
Howie nodded. "I was afraid you were gonna say that," he said, looking exhausted. "Tell me everything. What happened?"
He helped Micky up and over to one of the chairs, pulling it free from the pile, he set it down and helped Micky sit in it.
"Well," Micky said. "We were all in the living room and Mike went to go ask if there'd been any news. Before he got back, someone shot up the kitchen door, so we barricaded the living room. Then someone shot up the window and a bunch of guys came in. They took Peter and Marissa and then they knocked us all out and left."
Howie nodded. "That makes sense," he said, beckoning an Agent to come over. "Now, Micky, this is Agent Bobsled, he's a doctor. He's going to look at your head and see how badly you were hurt, alright?"
Micky nodded. "What happened with you?" He asked. "You were gone for nearly five hours."
Howie sighed. "When we got to the store front, we were caught in an ambush," he said. "They pinned us down, but we held our ground. Finally managed to break away ten minutes ago, we pulled into the street and saw all the cars getting ready to drive away. I sent Agent Cupcake and Agent Psychedelic Llama to take their teams and give chase, while I came here to see what happened. We've been trying to revive you ever since."
The doctor shined a light in Micky's eyes, and then stood up. "You have a slight concussion," he said. "Sit here, get some rest. Don't move around too much, and you'll be fine."
Just then. Mike let out a groan, so Howie and the doctor turned their attentions to him. Micky looked around again, for the first time noticing how many agents were there. There were several agents pulling apart the pile of furniture, getting some of the chairs out and the two couches. A few agents were sweeping up all the broken glass, and a few agents were already replacing the broken window panes. One agent came over to Micky with a glass of water and a sandwich.
"We found these already made in the kitchen," she said, handing Micky the sandwich. "We figured you were probably hungry."
Micky thanked her and took the sandwich, but he'd lost his appetite. He was too worried about Peter to want to eat anything, so he took a few small bites to appease himself and then set it down. Mike was escorted to another chair, where he sat pensively staring at Davy, while the Doctor and Howie moved him and Polly to the couches.
After a minute, he caught Micky's eye and stood up, picking up his chair and moving it to be by Micky.
"Are you sure you should be moving around?" Micky asked. "The doctor told me not to move around too much."
"It'll take a lot more than a pistol-whipping to get me down," Mike said. "Besides, I never was one to follow doctor's orders."
He smiled for a second as if that were funny somehow, and then he frowned in confusion.
"...You alright?" Micky asked him.
"Hmm?" Mike said absently, turning towards him. "Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Just worried about Peter, and Marissa, and Davy."
Micky glanced at Davy, who was still unconscious, and then looked away quickly.
Agent Psychedelic Llama came in then, and walked over to Howie. "We lost 'em," she said. "There were five cars total, we intercepted two of them. The occupants were knocked out and left on the doorstep of the police department. We lost three cars, but everyone got away. The car with the hostages escaped from sight."
Howie put his head in his hands and groaned, then he stood up. "Keep searching," he said. "Take two details with you, leave two here. I don't want them coming back for more. We'll search until midnight, by then, if we haven't found them, we won't be able to. We'll regroup then and decide what to do from there."
"Yes sir," Agent Psychedelic Llama said, calling a few agents to follow her as she left.
"Do you think they'll find him?" Micky asked, turning back to Mike.
"Well..." Mike said. "I don't know. But I do know one thing."
"What's that?" Micky asked.
"Peter has a knack for escaping from kidnappers," Mike said. "And Howie's not gonna take this lightly, either. As soon as we can, you can bet we're gonna go after those guys and get him back, safe and sound."
Micky nodded, but he didn't feel too reassured. Just then, Davy started waking up, and Mike stood up and went over to him, so Micky sighed and leaned back against his chair. He could only hope that Mike was right and Peter would be safe and sound when they got to him.
"Wake up!"
Peter jerked awake; he'd been dozing uncomfortably on and off all night, and now one of the thugs was pulling him up by his arm, which was still tied behind his back. Peter stood up, and the thug pulled him from the room and into the center of the warehouse. The boss was there, holding Marissa, and there were twice as many gang members as there had been the night before, as well as another car.
"Alright," the boss said. "Danny, Alfonso, Leo and Bryce, you're gonna take Junior and drive on up to HQ. Georgie, Freddie, and Rex, you're with me and Baby Girl here. It's 4:30, it'll be light in about a half-hour, so now's the best time to head out. The Agents will discover this joint as soon as they can use the skid marks of our tires to find out where we went, but we still need to leave a bit of a message for 'em."
Stepping forward, the boss yanked the peace beads from around Peter's neck and threw the broken string on the ground. "Now then," he said. "Load 'em into the cars, and let's move out!"
Peter was led to one of the cars and pushed into the back seat, in the middle again, with a gang member on each side, guns drawn in case they were followed.
Looking out the window, he watched as the boss climbed into the passenger seat in the other car, Marissa still on his lap. The door was shut, and the tinted windows blocked his view.
The Monkees were napping in the living room when the phone rang, startling them awake.
Howie rushed to answer it, and they all jumped up and crowded him, trying to listen in. "Hello?" He said. "...Ah yes... car trouble? Haha! ...We'll be right there."
He hung up the phone. "What, what was it?" Micky demanded excitedly.
"Agent Psychedelic Llama found an abandoned garage just now," he said. "She's sure they were there at least half an hour ago, and one of the cars had a motor-oil leak. We'll be able to follow the trail straight to them."
"Yes!" Micky exclaimed. "Let's go, Peter could be hurt!"
"I couldn't agree more," Howie said, getting his jacket. "We're gonna meet Psychedelic Llama at the scene, and go from there. Come on, boys, we've got a gang to stop!"
There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Peter had been in the garage. When they saw the broken peace beads on the floor, Mike, Micky and Davy all let out an angry yell and resolved even more to find Peter before anything bad happened to him. Mike picked up the peace beads and gave them to Micky to hold, angrily stating that he wanted to "break a bit of peace" himself. Then they all piled into the cars and started slowly following the trail of motor-oil from the Black Rose car.
The Black Rose cars drove out of Kent and into the forest for about half an hour before stopping in front of an abandoned building.
Peter was pulled out of the car and led towards the front door. He managed to turn enough to glance behind him and see the boss still holding Marissa before he was yanked forward again and pushed through the doors. Inside was a large open area, with clamps and cranes and claws hanging from the roof. There were piles of logs everywhere, and all sorts of instruments and machines designed to debark trees. It was an old lumbermill.
There were members of the Black Rose gang everywhere, up on catwalks, leaning against the walls, guarding the doors... and there were several members standing guard over the man sitting on a throne of crates, looking down at Peter with a grin. "Take the gag off," he ordered, and the gag was removed.
Peter's jaw dropped, and his eyes opened wide as he looked up at the man who was obviously the one and only Mr. Thorn. "...Pointy!?" He asked in surprise.
Pointy grinned. "At your service," he said. "So, Peter, how ya been? Steal any rubies lately? Intercept any information? Imprison any of my gang? Because you've been causing quite a racket lately."
"But- I don't understand," Peter said. "How can you be Mr. Thorn!?"
"Oh, it's simple, really," Pointy said. "You see, I went off to college after senior year, and in college, I learned something very important. Money is everything. So I started trying to get more and more money. Then I met a few people, started hanging with the wrong crowd, and we decided to start a gang. Then those pesky Good Guys showed up and started RUINING EVERYTHING!" Pointy stopped and took a few deep breaths, then smiled again. "And here we are, four years later," he said. "Mr. Thorn and Junior Best, old friends, now enemies. Isn't that, like, the best plot twist ever? Seriously, if this were story or a movie or something, that would be the major twist!"
"How did you know I was Junior Best?" Peter asked.
"Oh, that's simple too," Pointy explained. "About six months ago, we learned that Agent Cupcake, Mr. Best's right hand man, made trips down here to Kent a lot. Now, why would the second in command of a national crime syndicate frequent a little town like Kent? So I had a few teams move down here, to check things out. They reported a lot of suspicious activity, so I moved back down here myself, with a few more teams. It took a long time to narrow it down to a few more likely suspects. Then you came along, leaving a trail of gang activity in your wake. I was still suspicious of your father, so I decided to follow you around when I saw you at the fair. That sure paid off, that Agent obviously knew who you were, or at least, she knew Marissa. I arranged for the gang to come pay you a visit and lured you into the pig exhibit, but I didn't give your people as much credit as they deserved. But, staging that distraction on the store front paid off, and here you are now!"
Peter was stunned. All this time, Pointy had been using him to get to Howie. How could seven years have changed a man so much?
"What are you going to do with us?" He asked, afraid to hear the answer.
"Nothing," Pointy said.
Peter blinked, baffled. "...nothing?" He asked. "What do you mean, nothing?"
Pointy laughed. "I'm not just after you, Pete," he said. "I want the entire gang gone. You think your daddy's gonna just sit by while I have Junior and his precious Baby Girl? No, if I know Mr. Best, he's gonna be on his way here right now, with all of his top Agents in tow. We made sure of that, spilling a bit of motor oil on our way here. You're not important, Pete, you're just bait. Why kill the worm before the fish even get a chance to bite?"
Peter thought about this. Howie was on his way here, with all of his top agents. Would he have Mike, Micky and Davy with him? Almost certainly. They wouldn't sit by while Peter was held hostage. And they were all coming into a trap.
"I'm disappointed, Junior," Pointy said, pulling Peter away from his thoughts. "You haven't asked the best question yet."
Peter frowned. "What's the best question?" He asked.
Pointy sighed dramatically. "You're supposed to ask me why the gang is named Black Rose," he said.
"Oh," Peter said obligingly. "Why's the gang named Black Rose?"
"Because every rose has plenty of thorns," Pointy explained happily, as if Peter had thought the question up on his own. "And you know what every thorn has in common?"
"What?" Peter asked.
"They're all Pointy," Pointy stated. Then he laughed. "Geddit?" He said. "Because I'm Mr. Thorn, and I'm Pointy! Isn't that just great?"
"Mr. Thorn," one of the thugs said, coming in. "The Agents are coming, they've brought seven cars!"
"Seven?" Pointy said with a frown. "Is that all? Oh well, I suppose that's the point of a trap. Alright, Donny, keep Baby Girl. Al, you and Danny guard Junior. Also, Cy, Harry, and Tom, you three are with me. Everyone else, aim for the head and the heart. Come along, Junior, wouldn't want you to get caught in the cross fire."
With that, Pointy and his small group of thugs quickly led Peter and Marissa over to a small trap door in the corner of the building. As two of the thugs opened the door, Peter's gag was returned, and this time, Marissa was gagged as well. As the first sounds of shooting could be heard outside, Pointy laughed. "Boy, isn't this funny, Pete?" He said, leading the way into the cellar. "What a gag!"