ACT 2

Muffled crying woke Sara from a painful unconsciousness and she struggled to breath, her head covered in a burlap sack, hindering her oxygen. She felt rocking and swaying and realized she was laying on the floor of a moving vehicle. She could hear and feel others in there with her, and by the sounds, they were all girls of various ages. She tried to move but felt ropes tightly binding her wrists and feet. She tried to remember what happened but it was very blurry. She had been at a club and got hit on by a very handsome older man, and he bought her shots even though she was only seventeen, talking about how she would be awesome in movies and theater. The throb in her head told her he'd spiked her drinks, and with that thought, fresh fear swallowed her. Where was she being taken, and for what reason? Whimpers echoed through out the van and Sara gathered that there was maybe four other girls, of various ages, in the van with her. She tried to pull herself up to sit against the side of the van but it suddenly turned and she fell over onto another girl.

"Ouch!" the other girl cried.

"Sorry!" Sara apologized, "Are you okay?"

"No!" the voice shot back, "Where are we? What's happening?"

"I don't know."

Another girl spoke up, "What are they going to do with us?"

Sara shook her head quietly, deciding not to scare them any further. She didn't want to tell them the stories she'd heard. For the next few minutes, crying and mixed words of fear filled the van until they all felt it slow down and come to a stop. They all held their breaths, listening to movement outside and screamed as the doors in the back of the van were pulled open. They all heard heavy boots of large men step in, and the van creaked under the new weight as rough, cruel hands grabbed Sara and pulled her violently up and over someone's broad shoulders.

She heard cries and one girl begging to be let go followed by a cry of pain and a thump. Sara guessed the girl had been gut punched, as her breath was now labored but she was quiet, otherwise. She went limp in her captors arms to avoid the same fate and felt herself carried up metal steps, as her captors boots clanged against them. After what seemed like hours, she was tossed onto a dirty mattress and her leg bindings were cut. The sack over her head was pulled away and she blinked harshly against the dim light illuminating from a single over head work bay light, with one of the four bulbs flickering from a bad ballast.

Looking around as her vision came back to her, she saw the other four girls seated in a similar fashion, their leg bindings all being cut free. Six men of various size, shape and color stood in a semi circle behind them, semi-automatic weapons shouldered and dark expressions on their stoic faces. Sara gulped, trying to slow her breathing when one of the men took up his weapon and pointed it at her.

"Stand. NOW! All of you."

Shaking, Sara did as she was told, pulling her medium brown hair back behind her so she could see clearly, and stumbled on the dirty mattress. A strong hand grabbed her shoulder to forcefully steady her. "Don't fucking move, bitch!"

The other girls joined her, side by side, and she got her first look at each of them. Shit, she thought, none of the girls looked to be over 18 and she deduced she may be the oldest, with the youngest having to be no more than 13, maybe 14. Her worry intensified as a groan from an old door announced the arrival of a tall, lanky African American male. This one was dressed far differently than the grunts. He was well dressed in a maroon dress shirt under a black dress coat and rippled slacks, wearing a black top hat wrapped in a blood red band. His boots were shin high, laces slightly undone and he carried a cane adorned at the top with a carved severed head of a goat. Around his neck was a black beaded necklace, a skull with a dagger stabbing through it's head and out of it's neck hanging from it. He stepped to the front of the girls, eyeing them all in turn.

"Ah, our new arrivals, at last." He said, his voice was almost melodious yet tinged with vileness, "Welcome! Welcome!"

He looked at each, "My name is Samedi, and I will be your host for the next few days while we await the arrival of the rest of your friends."

One brave girl, or stupid as Sara sighed, spoke up, "What are you going to do with us!?"

Samedi gave the girl a very wide knowing smile but his eyes were cold at the interruption, "Why, my sweet child, you and all the others have been collected for some very special.. fun.. by clients of my boss. You should consider it an honor, really. Some of you may even get to live full, rich lives with your new owners."

Samedi explained this as he stepped to the girl and lifted her chin to meet his gaze, his fingernails were long, sharp and he nicked the girl's chin as he held her up for inspection, "But for that to happen, you will never speak unless you are asked a question directly, do. I. Make. Myself. Clear. Bitch!"

The smile was gone and Samedi struck the girl across the face with the back of his hand, flinging the girl onto the dirty mattress, yelping in fear and pain. Samedi turned quickly, barking orders for the girl to be put back in place. One of the grunts hauled her up and pushed her back into the line and Samedi spun back around, all facade of smiles gone, "Now listen up! You will be locked up and given just enough to keep you alive. Forget all hope, cause no one will find you, and you belong to The Bible, now!"

Turning to walk to the far end of the line of girls opposite Sara, Samedi continued, "Bible is your God, The Word, and you will obey him. He will be selling you off to bidders to be their little toys, for whatever pleasures they wish to bestow upon your lovely little bodies."

He walks slowly, sizing each tearful girl up in turn, "The lives you knew are over. Accept it, and maybe just maybe, you'll be the pet of someone who values your life. Not all do, some of you are going to be one night toys. A shame really, as you are lovely specimens."

He reaches Sara and looks her up and down, "But do not try to escape. There is no where for you to run, and I will show no mercy to any of you. Your beauty means nothing to me."

Walking behind Sara who feels his fingernails graze along her neck, and a tear slips from Sara's eye and she shakes violently at his touch. Samedi's tone darkens, "Do you all understand me?"

A collective murmur of agreement from the girls tells Samedi his point is made and he smiles cruelly, "Yeah. I don't think you do."

"Odd." Sara thought to herself suddenly, "Why does my neck feel so wet?"

Sara heard gasps and whimpers from the other girls but it was hard to understand. Then she started choking… her mouth filling with the bitter taste of copper and white hot pain came along with the sensations of wetness and fluid. She reached a hand up to her throat and felt wet heat and her fingers probed mangled flesh. Losing control, she dropped to her knees and worried that she'd be punished for not standing but her gagging took over and her eyesight became blurry as the light above her started to fade. Only then did she realize that Samedi had slit her throat wide open with his blade like nails. Fear, pain and hopelessness filled her soul as her blood and life spilled from her body until the darkness swallowed her for the last time.

Watching Sara's body spasm as she drowned in her own blood, Samedi sucked the finger he'd used to slice the girl's throat and enjoyed the fresh blood while listening to the cries from the other girls. Gorging in the feast of their terror, he sadistically looked their way, his charming smile back, "I'm sure you understand, now. But, just to make sure you never forget."

Lifting his necklace up and fondling the skull, Samedi uttered some words the girls could not understand. Seconds passed when Sara's prone body started to sizzle. Boils and blisters blossoming over her face and neck as the girls watched in stunned disbelieving silence. The girl they'd barely begin to know was cooked in front of them in unseen magic fire. When the smell of burnt flesh wafted up and filled the room, Samedi stopped chanting and looked to the girls, "Obey, and you may be spared her fate."

Motioning to the guards to take the girls to the place of holding, Samedi stood silently as they were ushered out and once the room was clear, Samedi walked over to a corner of the room yet unnoticed, and flipped open a laptop sitting on a table mounted to the wall. With a couple of clicks with his nails, Samedi called up a video chat and waited for the other party to respond.

A moment later the screen lit up. On the screen a large, muscular image appeared, a bright light fixed behind him causes his image to be washed out, but Samedi could tell her was chewing a cigar, like always, telling him this was his boss, Bible.

"Report." Bible's thick, gravely voice clipped with authority.

"The second shipment of girls arrived, adding four more to a total of eleven on premises, with a third shipment of three due in two days."

"Four? I was informed five were to be delivered tonight."

"I made an example." Samedi said without remorse.

"Fucking Christ, Samedi! I had buyers lined up for all of them!" Bible growled, "Your blood-lust just cost me Five Million Dollars!"

"Fear is priceless. The girls will be more malleable. We're holed up in a very busy area. I will not risk discovery. The girls will spread the word of what they saw, tonight."

"They better." The cigar's end brightens as Bible pulls from it, "I want that third shipment in on time. The barge will be ready in three days."

"They will be loaded and ready to travel by then." Samedi nods.

"Good. I want no more fuck ups. I've already lost merchandise this summer." Bible cursed. Someone had been saving girls from his henchmen across the Eastern boarder, and damaging his credibility among his most loyal customers. Of the men he was able to recover, thanks to his connections in the FBI, he learned that they'd been frightened to death by what appeared to be a demon before waking up in cuffs in the back of cruisers. Those men should have wished they'd been killed by a monster after he'd been through with them. Bible was never lenient. He was also not stupid. Whomever was stealing his product had game, and having Samedi as his right-hand voodoo priest, he was well aware of the supernatural and was curious who it was interfering. That would wait for another time, as Bible needed this shipment now. Refocusing on Samedi, "And no more examples or the next example will be you."

With that threat issued, the screen cuts out, signaling the end of the connection and Samedi's fake smile falls and he taps his cane on the cold concrete floor, walking back over to Sara's charred body. How dare that over inflated egotistical asshole threaten him. Without Samedi, Bible's syndicate was nothing, but Bible had connections and power Samedi coveted, so for now, he would play the part of subordinate until such time as he could secure power to overthrow Bible. Kneeling beside the corpse, Samedi takes out a blade from inside his coat and cuts deep into Sara's exposed leg, drawing a swell of blood. Removing a vial from an inside pocket, he collects the blood and returns the stopper to the lip and tucks the blood filled vial back into the same pocket.

"You may be useful yet, my sweet." Samedi stands and gives the body a polite bow before walking out the door he'd come through.

FBI Special Agent Amanda Sims exited the elevator to the third floor of the Field office on Leon C Simon Blvd in New Orleans, allowing a small yawn to pass her fleshly painted lips. Despite years and years of service in both the military and FBI, she would never be a morning person. Taking a drink out of her large sized Starbucks coffee cup, soothed by the heat of the liquid, she looked for the offices she needed.

"Can I help you?" To her left, coming out of an office, was a young man whom she pegged must have just been assigned to a field office.

"Yes. I'm looking for Director Mike Stefon?"

"Agent Sims?" Inquired the young man and Sims nodded affirmation, "Yes, they're expecting you. It's the briefing room two doors down on your left."

"Thank you." Sims gave the young man a smile as he turned down the hallway in the opposite direction, off to his own duties. Sims walked to the suggested door and opened it to a briefing already in progress. 'Shit!' she thought, 'Am I late?' and remembered the time zone was different here than in D.C., a stupid novice mistake.

Her arrival caught the attention of Director Stefon, who was standing at a podium at the head of the room, a projector displaying case files for missing girls on a white screen beside him. He gives Sims a stern look, "So glad you could join us this morning." a pause, adding in a question, "Agent Sims?"

"Sorry and yes, Sir." Sims nodded, closing the door behind her, "I forgot the time zone change. Won't happen again."

Stefon nodded, "Have a seat and try to keep up."

Cursing herself, Sims pulled up a chair at the table, wondering if all these missing child cases was starting to break her mind. She never forgot such simple details. Turning her eyes fully on the director, she listened as he continued.

"As I was saying." Director Stefon continued and filled out the details of the events over the past few weeks. Multiple girls had been kidnapped or gone missing in a frightening short period of time from a small region of Louisiana. Due to the nature of some of the reported kidnappings, all other missing children cases falling into that time range were added to the investigation. Very few credible eye witness reports and tips had come in since the beginning, but one lead was very hopeful. Adding another sheet to the projector, Director Stefon pulled up a photo of a black van that had been seen in the area of a recent abduction of a teen girl named Sara from a party up in Baton Rouge. Her friends had noticed her gone missing and thought they'd seen her pulled into the van in question. Unfortunately, they could not get the plate and by the time they'd tried to follow, it had disappeared onto the express way.

"One other report on the van suggests it came south towards New Orleans, so this is where we're going to begin our hunt. Any questions?"

"Yes." Sims spoke up, catching the director's attention, "Do you think these kidnappings may be linked to the three other recent cases involving The Bible?"

"We don't have enough evidence to link them, no, but I do admit that some of the M.O. is familiar. We have agents on those cases, Agent Sims and we're sharing all intel just in case."

'Good', Thought Sims. There appeared to be no pissing contests going on. She had been involved in enough of those to see cases get messed up due to egos, and took a chance to see how far she could press the teamwork idea, "I do have a suggestion as well."

The Director held up his hand to stop her, "I know you, Agent Sims and I know your connections and your… fondness… for a certain Bounty Hunter. We don't need any loose cannons on this mission."

So much for team-work, Sims sighed, speaking up, "Angel has been on a hot streak all summer. He's rescued more kids than we have in any given month."

"Because he breaks the rules, Sims, and doesn't follow protocol or call in the real authorities until after, which puts those kids at even more risk! I don't know who you have in your pocket way up in the ranks that we're not given orders to bring him in, but I'm not going to entertain this idea, anymore. Are we clear?"

With a defiant nod of forced agreement, Sims sits back in her chair, twisting her coffee cup in her hands. The others in the room chuckle quietly, and it seems her reputation has definitely preceded her. Standing up for Angel, debriefing him but never holding him, defending him to her boss at headquarters. A boss she is intimate with, thus why she's been allowed to let Angel go free each time. A man she's sleeping with because she wants to protect Angel. The guilt and shame ate at her, but she told herself each time; it was for the children. Besides, she knew any chance to rekindle anything with Angel had passed, so this was her way of staying close.

The Director dismissed everyone in the room, but called on Sims to stay behind. That elicited even more mocking grins from the other agents as they left. Sims stood at attention as the Director came around the podium, sitting at the table in a chair next to her.

"Look, Agent Sims, I was not going to be on record with the others present, but I do admit that personally? I'm glad those kids are safe and protocol aside, I know that sometimes the only way to save them is to do things that isn't 'by-the-book'. But this is far, far too serious to have anyone involved that I am not in command of."

Sims spoke up quick, "Then let's deputize him. Sir, Angel has something, I don't know what it is… but his tactics are working far better than any I've even seen. He's captured every criminal without violence, without any of the kids harmed. His skill-set from the special forces alone dictate we consider him."

"I read the reports, Sims, and some of those 'rescues' have left those assholes mentally unstable. We had two already transferred to a mental facility unable to stand trial. If I wanted Angel here, it wouldn't be to help this case, but to demand what tactics he's doing. Like I said, I'm glad the kids are safe, but he's off the reservation on how he's doing it, and I don't have time to debrief him and we do not NEED him."

"Sir?"

Sims wanted to press but Stefon cut her off, "My word is final, Agent Sims. Now go report to Deputy Tucker in room eight for your work assignments on this case. We'll be out in the field after lunch, looking for leads and conducting interviews, by-the-book. Understood?"

"Understood, Sir." Standing, Sims nodded, "I'll report to Deputy Tucker after I freshen up."

"Good enough. You're dismissed, Special Agent Sims."

Sims opened the door and stepped out. Closing the door behind her, she turned towards the restrooms she'd seen as she'd gotten out of the elevator. Her mid-high heeled black dress shoes clicking on the gray vinyl flooring as she walked crisply. Pushing the door to the woman's bathroom open she walked in and checked to see it was empty. Going to the last of three stalls, she pushed the door open, stepped in and locked it. She didn't need to freshen up. She needed to make a call. Pulling out her Iphone, she unlocked it with her print and clicked contacts. Angel's name was at the top, as it always had been, even though she never called him. She pushed the call button. 'Professionalism be damned' she cursed, 'I'm not putting those kid's lives at steak for some man's fucking ego.'

She only hoped that Angel was not too far away to help.