Young Offender, Part 23:
"Here's the spot," Ivan said.
Albert pulled the borrowed car over and looked in the rear-view mirror. Francoise and Ivan were in the back, dressed in their green uniforms with long, red scarfs. Francoise appeared nervous, however Ivan looked apathetic. Albert glanced over at Jet, also in his uniform. Jet sat in the passenger's front seat, flipping his Zippo over and over. His expression looked hard, determined, or angry. Albert couldn't decide which combination.
He tugged his black leather gloves off and tucked them behind his uniform's belt. He turned in his seat towards them, feeling compelled to figure out their commitment. "Once we do this, there is no turning back. We're going to be waging open warfare against the Black Ghost and Merchants of Death. As it stands, we could probably figure out a way to hide again, live life in the shadows, and try to make the best of it. If any of you want to not do this, now is the time to speak up. I'll understand."
"Let's do this. I want those clowns to pay," Jet snapped. He then smirked and bragged, "Besides, I'm no candy ass."
"You know I've waited for this moment," Ivan said firmly with a grim expression that didn't fit on such a young looking face. Albert turned his head towards Francoise.
She forced a smile over her worry and nodded. "Don't worry. I'm with you. I don't want the Black Ghost to get any stronger and hurt others." She was then sorrowful and looked at her clasped hands in front of her chest. "I also want to make sure all of you come out of this safely."
Albert reached over and patted her shoulder. "Jean-Paul would be proud of you."
She looked startled. "Kaminari's adjustments to my ears certainly have worked. Kitagawa is on his way. I can here every detail of his conversation. It sounds like there are only three men in the car. Yes! Three. I can even hear their heartbeats."
"Good girl. Come on. Let's go," Albert ordered. "Francoise, get up the tree and stay covered. Watch our backs. Jet, get up in the sky. You'll stop them if they try to retreat from me or Ivan."
"Aye, aye, Captain Bligh," Jet smirked and launched himself deep into the night sky.
Albert shook his head, smirked back at Jet's light teasing, and mumbled, "You better not mutiny, Mister Christian."
It was a very narrow, secluded road through some grassy hills. There was a flat spot with a few trees and a meadow. Francoise was able to climb halfway up a twisted tree close by the road. Their car rested under the tree. Albert walked into the middle of the road with Ivan.
"Don't overtax yourself, Ivan. Let me and Jet do the heavy lifting," Albert warned as a distant motor interrupted the silent night.
"I won't overtax myself. Our escape depends on it."
The moon was full and bright, giving an eerie glow to everything. A shadow briefly drifted over Albert, he looked up and felt a little more relaxed, seeing Jet high in the sky, ready to pounce. He knew Jet would put everything into this. Jet was very passionate about getting revenge. Albert admired that passion Jet had, but he hoped the New Yorker would grow up soon and temper that passion.
Albert turned towards the approaching car. He was a little surprised to see it didn't slow. Instead, a man hung out of the door's window and fired a gun. Albert didn't even flinch because a bluish haze was between him and the car.
The haze disappeared once Albert raised his hand. He fired his mechanical hand at the front tires of the dark sedan; they blew. The sedan went skidding and came to a jerky halt. Two men leaped from the car and opened fire on Albert and Ivan, again.
Albert returned fire, and hit one man in the leg. He crumpled as a third man jumped out from the car and tried running back the way they had come from. Albert watched Jet land and raise his ray gun at the man. "No you don't! Back over that way!"
The other gunman raised his weapon to fire at Albert. Ivan stretched out his hand; the car levitated in a glowing, blue haze and was flung across the meadow. The gunman was so stunned that he dropped his gun and raised his hands. Jet shoved the third man towards Albert and Ivan; Albert perceived Jet's prisoner was Kitagawa.
Jet smirked down at Ivan, pointed at the crumpled car, and said, "Show off."
"You are Hondo Kitagawa?" Albert asked the Japanese man.
"Who are you people? What are you people?!" Kitagawa raged, keeping his hands up.
"You're a Merchant of Death, and that's what matters in this encounter," Albert said.
"Come on. Get moving," Jet said, shoving the man down the road towards the safe house as Francoise dropped down from the tree.
"Wait," Ivan said. He looked over at the remaining, unwounded gunman. "Sleep." The man fell to the ground. "The other one will be fine. Actually, a minor flesh wound. He's exaggerating because he's afraid of us."
Albert didn't miss Kitagawa's irked expression at the cowardliness of his bodyguard. The expression turned terrified when Ivan held out his hand to the car Albert had driven them in. Seconds later it went up into lapping, blue flames.
After a few yards of marching towards the Swiss house, Kitagawa said, "Listen, I can use people like you. I don't know how you know about the Merchants of Death, but I won't ask questions. Name your price."
"We have no price, mister, so just jam it," Jet said.
"I could do things for you! Just name it!" Kitagawa begged.
"Shut your mouth before you really piss me off!" Jet snapped.
Kitagawa, to Albert's relief, was silent for the rest of the twelve minute walk. He didn't want to pry Jet off the man's throat. They paused within view of the house.
"There are three men in there. I can hear them gambling with cards, but... I count eight more heartbeats. Very rapid, like... children? And crying...?"
Albert quirked his eyebrow at Francoise and then turned to Kitagawa. Her lips clenched and she nodded confirmation at what she had heard. There were children being held there. Now Albert knew why Ivan was so convinced the police would be more interested in Kitagawa.
"Are there children in the house?" Albert asked, glowering at the man.
Kitagawa got a devilish gleam to his eyes and said, "That's merchandise."
"What do you mean?" Albert asked in a low, threatening voice.
"The Black Ghost put in an order for some children to experiment on. Something about lack of memories and fostering more loyalty. I'm just filling the order."
"You son-of-a..." Jet didn't finish before slamming his leg into Kitagawa's stomach.
The man fell to ground, and Jet was about kick his head. Albert shoved Jet away from the man. "Enough! We need him for leverage."
"Now you see why I picked Kitagawa," Ivan said. "Trust me, there are plenty like him among the Merchants of Death we can prey on."
"You should have told us more about the children, Ivan," Francoise said.
"I wasn't sure he was holding children as prisoners anymore. Just a rumor Gilmore overheard," Ivan said. "I know about the guns he's planning on supplying to Vietnam."
Albert jerked Kitagawa to his feet and shoved the man towards the house. The news of children being abused had disgusted him. "Don't even flinch, or I'll let the hothead beat the shit out of you."
They walked to the house's back door. Albert peeked through the window to see the three men engrossed in poker around the kitchen table. They each had guns, but Albert was happy to see several empty cans of beer on the table.
"Ready?" he asked Jet. The redhead nodded with a serious face as Albert drew his ray gun and set it to stun.
Jet kicked in the door and charged in with his ray gun. The three men tried to jump up, but Albert hit one with his ray gun, while Jet punched the nearest one to the door. The third fell backwards, too drunk to even stand. The man raised his hands, just sitting helplessly on the linoleum.
"Well damn, that was no challenge. What a pack of candy asses," Jet said, shaking his hand out from the punch.
"Let's tie them up," Albert ordered. Soon, Kitagawa and his three men were tied to the kitchen chairs by Jet and Albert.
"Albert, they're downstairs, but this is locked with an alarm system," Francoise said, pointing to a keypad by the door leading to the basement.
"What's the code?" Albert asked.
"8367," Kitagawa answered.
"He's lying. I can tell. His vital signs just spiked," Francoise said. Kitagawa glowered at her.
"Tell us the truth," Albert demanded.
"I also smell gelignite below us. It could be set to explode if we go down there," Francoise said.
Albert grabbed Kitagawa by the shirt collar and got in his face. "You'd kill those kids and everyone else up here? You're scum!"
"Just the kids and anyone that goes down there. It's rigged to go off after the wrong code is punched and the last step has pressure sensor on it. The walls are pretty thick," the man gloated.
"No more games!" Albert squeezed harder on the man's collar. "Tell her the correct code."
"6783," he said, fighting for air. Albert glanced at Francoise, who gave him a quick nod and punched in the code. The door made a clicking noise, and he released his grip on Kitagawa.
"Jet, go with her and bring the kids up here." They complied with his order silently. Moments later, several children in poor condition came stumbling upstairs between Francoise and Jet. Albert could tell none of them were older than ten. Two girls around five-years-old were sobbing and clinging to Francoise's hands; to Albert, Francoise looked as if she were about to cry as well.
"Take them to the living room and make sure they're comfortable, Francoise," Albert requested.
"This way," she murmured guiding the eight, terrified children. Albert didn't stop Jet from smacking Kitagawa in the head once the kids were out of sight.
"You son-of-a-bitch," Jet snapped. The man glared up at Jet.
"Albert, his study has the money and some plans from his brother-in-law's electronics firm. We really need to burn those plans, along with getting the children to safety," Ivan reminded, as he walked in after the melee. At Albert's insistence, Ivan had refrained from using his abilities at all; too much was riding on Ivan as their escape plan. The German man was glad to see Francoise could handle some of Ivan's role in an emergency with her enhanced senses.
"Fine," Albert said. "Come with me while Jet babysits these boys." He turned to Jet and admonished, "Be a good boy, Jet, and don't beat the shit out of them quite yet." The New Yorker scowled in response.
Ivan followed him to the study. A small safe rested in a corner behind the thick, mahogany desk. The study was littered with old, leather books. Albert was almost overwhelmed with the strong odors of whiskey, pine, and cigars.
Albert held up his left hand and flicked out the laser knife on the side. He quickly sliced opened the safe door and grabbed the manila envelop. He handed it to Ivan and then grabbed the bundles of United States dollars, avoiding the other types of currency. Ivan opened the desk and found an empty canvas bank bag; Albert stuffed it full.
He watched Ivan pick up the phone and dial. "Yes, operator, I need the police. It's an emergency." Minutes later he said, "Yes, I want to report several kidnappings. There are several children that are being held against their will at the Kitagawa chalet... It's not a prank..." Suddenly, Ivan's eye glowed bright blue. "You believe me. You fear the children are hurting, and it's life and death. You believe Kitagawa is a violent criminal, and his chalet needs to be torn apart top to bottom... What? Who am I?" Ivan's eyes half-shut; his eye dimmed as he took a deep breath. "My name is Ivan Whiskey."
With that he slammed the phone on the cradle. Albert smirked and followed Ivan towards the kitchen. "Ivan Whiskey?"
"It's a name that'll do."
"I guess so," he mumbled as they walked into the kitchen where Jet sat on a counter with his ray gun covering the goons.
"Are we good?" Jet asked, hopping off the counter.
Ivan held up the manila folder. It burst into blue flames and disappeared. Albert held up the bag and said, "Got something for us."
"The police will be here soon," Ivan said. Jet paced for almost fifteen minutes. Francoise came jogging in and nearly bumped into the lanky teenager.
"The police are coming. The children are all willing to tell the truth," she reported.
"Good, they won't be the only ones," Ivan said. He turned to Kitagawa, his eye glowing. "You'll confess every horrible, illegal thing you've ever done the next time you see a policeman."
He then turned to Albert. The German man insisted, "Let's get out of here. Our work is done."
"Where to?" Ivan asked as he ran outside after Albert and the other two cyborgs. Once they were a safe distance from the chalet, they paused and stood in a circle.
He glanced over at Jet, who looked troubled with everything around him. Even in the dark of night Albert could see it. Albert answered Ivan with, "New York."
A blue flash and a slightly nauseous sensation hit Albert. Suddenly, it was early evening in an alleyway. The dissonance of cars and people filled Albert's ears. Jet stepped to the edge of the alleyway and then turned to Albert. The young man didn't say anything. He didn't have to for Albert to sense his gratitude.
"It's nice to be home again."
To be continued.