Gentles all: The following story contains reference to a form of Japanese street fashion, the adherents to which refer to as Elegant Gothic Lolita. Note, that the term “Lolita” refers to this style of clothing. This, with Gabi's kind help, is a revised and illustrated version of the story that originally appeared on Crystal’s Storysite.
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A Fairytale. Act 3. By Sarah Lynn Morgan |
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vulgar colloquialisms, that might be offensive to some’
Please be advised: mature content follows.
He was cold.
He was laying on something damp, and not too clean judging by the strong sour odor of mildew His head hurt bad, and even moving it slightly caused sharp pains to ricochet from one side of his skull to the other. Even so, he was determined to push his face away from the smell, but for some reason he could not get his arms under him to push himself up. It was hard to think, but he realized the reason was that his arms were pinned behind him.
He tried to free them for several moments, but he couldn’t. He was tied at the wrists.
The kidnappers.
It was painful trying to think, but he was afraid to fall back to sleep.
Slowly he tried to opened his eyes, but had to immediately clamp them shut, because the spinning of the room was going to make him throw up. He did not want to do that before he could get his head up…
“Maggie” he croaked very softly, but there was no reply. He wanted to say it again, but he knew he would never be able to speak and fight the nausea at the same time. Therefore, he lay there, as quietly as he could, and just tried not to do anything to make it worse. If he could just lie very still for a few moments, just long enough to get his breath…
Noriko walked onto the elevator, and pushed for her floor. She was tired. Miyu’s father had taken a wrong turn, and had wound up at the airport somehow, so she'd had to talk him back to the hotel on the girl’s cell phone. It was now almost seven o’clock, and she needed to get them ready for the trip to the airport, before she could decide what to do next. She had half a mind to rent a car so they could just leave.
If she weren’t so tired, she might just do that, but she knew that she could never drive tonight. Not after lying awake most of the last night. She knew, in fact, that is what she should have done yesterday within minutes of John telling his story; but, at the time the fiction of attending CosCon had been such a good cover for leaving the city, and it it had almost certainly gotten them out of their neighborhood, but she had gotten too attached to the plan. She could see that now.
She got off of the elevator, and walked to their door, and knocked softly. She waited for at least a minute, and knocked a little louder. “John? Maggie?” She called out, half to herself, and half in the hopes that they would hear her and open the door. Noriko leaned her head on the door to listen, and just as she was about to knock louder, when the elevator chimed behind her and opened. Out walked a waiter with a cart from room service.
He began to push his cart down the hallway in the opposite direction, when he turned to look at Noriko. “Excuse me Miss, but is everything all right? Can I help you?” The waiter was young, and she could see that most of his interest was in just talking to her, but that did not matter.
“Yes, you can.” She answered, "I feel like an idiot, but I’ve left my key in the room, and my girlfriend is such a sound sleeper I can’t wake her up. Do you have a key that you could let me in with?” She finished with a smile, willing him to pull out a key.
He hesitated for a moment, only to say, “I’m sorry, Miss but I can’t do that. You can go down to the front desk, and they can make you another key. It only costs about five dollars, but if the key that I have even works, and I let you in, I could get fired. Sorry, I wish I could help.” He finished with a shrug, and turned to push the cart down the hall as he occasionally glanced back at her.
Noriko did understand, but even thought she smiled and said thank you anyway, she still had a fleeting hoped he fell down some stairs. It was a measure of how very tired she felt.
Noriko sighed resignedly, and stepped back into the elevator, and pushed the button marked “L.”
John was having a bad dream. He could hear Maggie, talking in a high and frightened voice, but he could not hear what she was saying. He only knew that he needed to get to her somehow, but that he couldn’t move. He was sobbing in frustration and fear when he finally awoke again.
He stopped sobbing as soon as he was awake, but as he quickly realized where he was, and why his shoulders hurt. He moved slowly, the memory of what happened the last time he tried to move his head made him very cautious. John lifted his head and opened his eyes a little. It was dark, but not pitch black. He could see that he was in a basement, or a factory or something. As he rolled over, he could feel that he was against a wall, with the other side of the room, which was filled with concrete pillars, was lost in gloom and distance.
John felt much better this time. He shifted a little more, and tried to look around. The door was toward his feet. The exit sign was dark over the door. He could not see anything else, except for pillars and a rat that was watching him from beside one. He shifted a little more, trying to take the weight off of his shoulders. They did not hurt too badly, so he could not have been left there very long.
Unable to see anything worthwhile, John lay his head back down, and tried to listen. For a long time, he heard nothing. The very silence around him seemed to buzz, and he realized that by listening so hard, he was only limiting his chance to hear, so he lay there and worried about Maggie.
A short time later, the sound of a door closing came clearly from behind his head. Looking, he could see a small vent near the floor, covered by a metal grill so rusty it was hardly there at all. He shimmied his way over to put his head up against it.
He clearly heard the door close a second time, and then voices. It was a man and a woman, who sounded like the ones in the elevator. He could hear each one of them speak, but he could not hear clearly enough to make out any of the words. Slowly, some of the words came through more clearly, and they were speaking Chinese. He tired to listen to the tone of the voices, but he could not hear much — that is until he heard the woman say clearly “So, are you ready to tell us where your brother is, now.”
The image of them holding Maggie race through his mind, and he thought he missed hearing her reply in his sudden sense of panic. He fought to slow his breathing, so that the pounding of his own heart, would slow enough so that he could hear. After a moment, he heard the woman again.
“I told you, little girl, that you will talk to us. Just tell us where your brother went, and we’ll let you go. All we want is what he took from us.” There was silence for a moment, and then he heard her. “I told you, John went to school, I was behind him when the accident happened at the bus stop. I thought he had already gone to school, and haven’t seen the little squirt since I left for school yesterday morning.”
“So,” the dragon lady continued, “ You did not see him at School?”
“I told you, I cut school to get ready for the convention.” Maggie said, obviously showing her frustration after answering these questions many times.
There was another brief conversation amongst the Chinese again. John could hear two male voices now, each distinct, talking with the woman. Then he heard: “We know that you and your brother were not in school. All the kids we asked said that you were not there. Look, you may want to play games all night, but I just don’t have the patience or the time. We found this in the apartment building where the costume lady lives.”
There was silence for several moments. Followed by a slap, and a grunt from Maggie.
John’s eyes were tearing fiercely now, but he had to keep listening. It was no problem, because the dragon lady was yelling now. “You know what it is, you little bitch. Now you are going to tell me where your bother is, and your going to do it soon. The only thing that I don’t know is how many fingers you will have left when you finally decide to talk!”
John was sobbing louder. ‘Tell them Maggie. Please tell them.’ But he didn’t have long to wait to find out how it would go.
Maggie shrieked back at the woman at the top of her lungs, “Fuck you, you fucking slimy cunt!”
This time the blow wasn’t the sharp crack of a slap, it was the heavy thud of someone being punched, and the sound of a chair and furniture, and a body hitting the floor. Dragon lady yelled again “Get the other one in here! Maybe we can use her, but if we can’t we can at least get this over with.”
Back at the hotel, some hours before, Noriko was sitting on the end of the bed, looking at the cell phone in her hand. A strange voice had answered Maggie’s phone, before she heard a crunching sound, and no more. She had to call the police, but she did not know what to tell them. She did now that she had to get out of the room, because they knew where it was, and even thought they had already torn it apart, they could come back at any time.
Quickly she grabbed her purse, and headed down to the bar on the first floor. She ordered a glass of wine, was just about to dial 911, when the concierge approached her.
“Is everything all right, Miss Yokoshira?” He asked, with a look of genuine concern.
She looked at him, and calmly said “No. My room has been ransacked, and I think my Nieces have been kidnapped. I’m about to call the police.”
The concierge was one of the most unflappable men you could ever wish to meet, but given that expostulation, he could only stare at Noriko, his mouth moving up and down like a guppy’s.
Noriko pushed the send button to dial 911. The Concierge quickly suggested that she could come with him to his office, but Noriko just refused with a shake of the head. He leaned over the bar, and picked up the hotel phone, and punched in the number for security.
Meanwhile, in a quit voice, unnoticed by any of the other patrons, Noriko told the 911 operators that she believed that her two young friends were about to be murdered. After the usual interminable questions, she hung up the phone. She refused again to accompany the concierge to the private offices. She just took a sip of her wine, and silently began to cry, while she waited for the detectives to arrive.
John could hear them coming up the hall before they arrived at his door. He heard them just outside, and then the sound of keys in the door. When the door opened, even thought it was not that much brighter in the hall outside, the light blinded him. As he squinted from the brighter light, he could barely see the hulking form that quickly moved to the mattress he lay on, and effortlessly hauled him to his feet.
John bit his tongue at the pain in his shoulders, as he was propelled out into the hall. Still blinded by the light, he could not see much, but He did quickly pick up that where the large room he had been in looked abandoned, he could see what looked like a working factory floor a level below him through the glass windows in two sets of doors to his right. No one was there, though, the factory having been shut down for the night.
Even if there was someone there, not only could he not have gotten away from the man who was propelling him rapidly down the hall, but most of the doors had all been chained shut.
As they entered the still brighter room, John was once again barely able to see. His first view was of the Dragon Lady staring down at the floor. His second was of his sister struggling to push herself up into a sitting position using the wall for leverage. He could see by the way her head hung down that she was hurt, and struggling for the little bit of balance she had managed to hang on to. John’s voice caught in his throat, as Maggie slowly lifted her eyes up to stare defiantly at the Dragon Lady.
There was blood at the side of her mouth and nose to go along with a fiery red handprint on the side of her face. John could see that there was dullness to her eyes, as if she was dazed and not completely aware of what was going on. He could also tell that she was in pain by the way she was fighting for a normal breath. He could not see too much more, because the tears in his eyes blurred his vision.
The gorilla who had him by the shoulders practically threw him into a folding metal chair on the opposite side o the room from Maggie. He could see that there was a much smaller, and younger man standing bye the door. This one wore a sneer of sadistic enjoyment as he watched Maggie quietly suffer on the floor.
The dragon Lady just laughed at Maggie’s defiance openly, and turned away to look at John, and said, “So Margaret, who is your little friend?” She looked at John closely for the first time, and again he felt himself unable to turn away from her, even as he felt a thrill of icy fear racing from his spine to his stomach and then his knees.
“What’s your name, honey?” she asked with a sickening smile on her lips.
John did not answer, not because he was defying her, but rather because he could not get his voice to work. The woman’s smile twisted a little, and then looking between his face and clothes, she tried again in both Chinese and Japanese. Now John could only stare in complete confusion. The Dragon lady then turned to her companions, and said something to them that made the younger one chuckle evilly.
She now stood directly in front of John, and took his chin in her hand, and forced his head back to look up at her. “Another spoiled little rich girl, I see. Well princess, let me tell you a little something. Your friend over there on the floor is going to die tonight if she does not start talking soon, and you are going to go right along with her.” She paused to look at John’s face, and waited for the terror of what she just said to sink in.
She sensed something wrong in his reaction though, because her smile slowly turned to a frown, as she puzzled over his failure to show the expected reaction.
She leaned closeer, and gently rearranged the hair on his forehead, before saying, “Start by telling me your name, little one and you’ll see how easy it is. My name is Ling Lau, and I don’t want to hurt you, so why don’t you tell me your name?” The way the woman had smiled when she said that she did not want to hurt him, almost made him throw up. There was no doubt that she would thoroughly enjoy doing the most horrible things to him.
“Leave… Leave her alone you bitch, she doesn’t know anything.” Maggie said softly from the floor, but John could see that her eyes were on him now, and they were huge with fear. The small shake of her head was all that stopped him from telling the truth to end this.
Ling Lau just nodded at the young punk by the door, and he walked over Maggie, and kicked her in her side. Maggie went down to the floor like a rag doll, at the sight of which John screamed for Maggie, and threw himself blindly in her direction. He did not get very far, but he did manage to accidentally plunge his shoulder into the dragon lady’s stomach before the gorilla behind him, yanked him off of his feet, and back into the chair by his hair.
Ling was on him in a moment, and had already drawn her arm high to strike as he looked up at her. The slap sent a brilliant cascade of stars blazing in front of his eyes, so he had no warning at all before her second blow caught him in the side of his head. The floor was almost welcomingly soft in comparison, as his body fell onto the concrete.
“Now I kill you first, you little cunt, right after my friends have a little fun with you! You like anal sex, Princess, you like to give good blow-job after, huh.” She screamed, her English broken by her anger, and then she drew back to kick John...
“Ling.”
The quiet voice came from the door, but soft as it was, it instantly stopped all motion in the room as effectively as if it had been a booming cannon shot. An old Asian man stood in the door, with another even larger goon behind him. Ling stopped, slowly walked over to him, where they had a very soft conversation. It was the reactions of the two goons already in the room that impressed John the most. They had both gone from outright sadistic glee to visible nervousness in the space of a heartbeat.
John felt himself picked up and put back in the chair, while the punk did the same to his sister putting her on a small couch in the corner of the room. The ringing in his ear had started to subside only a little, when he asked hoarsely, “Maggie, are you ok?” It got him a cuff on the back of the head, but he hardly felt it after the blow landed by Ling. Maggie, still unable to speak, only grunted, and tried to nod her head, but she did not look up at him. So, they sat in silence for a little while longer.
Then the man told Ling to close the door, which she did, locking it with a flip of the bolt high on the door. John’s confusion quickly turned to a moment of stark terror, when at a soft order from the old man, the young punk flipped open a butterfly knife, and reached for Maggie. John tried to lunge again, but his legs did not move. He only had time to say “Stop” softly, before the punk had reached down and cut the plastic tie from his sister’s wrists.
John saw Maggie reach for her left arm with her right hand, and then gently lift it to cradle both at her abdomen. The punk was then at John’s side, and roughly pulled him forward to cut his bonds as well. John’s only thought was to reach Maggie, so he began to stagger up to reach her. The punk pushed him back, but at another word from the old man, stepped back, and watched as John moved to his sister, and cradled her in his lap as she slowly started to cry silently under the gaze of the fierce woman, and the quiet old man.
"What you have not told us, Miss Yokoshira is why?” the detective said tersely. He was a large black man, and it was obvious that he viewed her Asian ancestry with a great deal of suspicion. He had practically told her that he thought she was involved with the Tong.
“I told you already, Lieutenant, there was money in the bag, and a book. What don’t you understand? That little girl and boy are out there in the hands of killers who think they have something that they don’t. Why don’t you get off your callused overpaid ass, and go and look for them!”
Noriko had not actually raised her voice, but for the look on the detective’s face, she might have screamed it. After a full minute of silence, the detective asked again. “How much Money was in the bag?”
“I didn’t stop to count it.” She said softly.
“What was in the book?”
“Names, and numbers. I don’t remember what they were.” She stared at him with an unnatural calm.
“So you don’t remember even one name?”
“I’ve told you,” she said, again loosing patience, “go and get the book, and you can read it all you want.”
“We are getting a court order for that now, Miss Yokoshira, and I have to tell you that if you don’t start cooperating, you will be charged with the theft of the money, and kidnapping of two minors.” He was rising now, leaning across the table toward her. “Now how about something that resembles the God Damned TRUTH!” The detective ended by yelling into her face.
Noriko could only stare in horror. Then her mouth formed a straight line, and then her anger was let loose on the detective, and at the mirror on the side of the room.
“OK, Here is your cooperation. You charge me and give me my phone call. I’ve already told you, that I sent a letter from the Hotel to the police commissioner’s office telling him where the money was. If you can make that charge, you’ll be one lucky Sonofabitch. You can also charge the woman who tried to get those two kids away from cold-blooded killers with kidnapping. You can also explain that you wanted to interrogate me while they are probably being murdered; but, I’ll tell you this, detective, in two hours, no matter what you do, I’m going to walk into the offices of the New York Times. In six hours everyone in the country is going to know just how large and incompetent an asshole you and every other asshole detective in this department really are. And, if those children are harmed while you sit here on your incompetent stupid ass,” She yelled as loudly as he had, “one week from today, you will be filling out applications to pick up dog shit in central park, and praying that you get the job. But you had better charge fast, you dumb Son-of-a-bitch, because that’s the only way you are going to keep me in this room even one minute more...”
Noriko had risen to her feet, and was even debating taking a swing at the dumbfounded detective, when she heard the click of the doorknob being turned behind her.
The older man, who walked in, just looked at the dumfounded detective and said, “Get out, Jackson.”
John flinched as the dragon lady took his chin, and lifted his face from the back of Maggie’s head. She was being gentle, this time, but John could still see the hatred in her eyes.
John was pulled to his feet, to stand before the old man. For his part, the old man just looked him up and down for a moment, before he moved toward Maggie, who was now sitting up on the couch, but leaning heavily on the arm for support. The old man turned and took a cloth from the gorilla, and then gently reached out to wipe Maggie’s face with it. Maggie closed her eyes, in spite of herself, as the cool cloth brought her first relief in hours.
“It is such a shame that you are going to force us to kill you,” the old man said in one of the kindest voices she had ever heard. Maggie, reacted like she had been slapped again, and recoiled from the gently smiling old man in front of her. “This could have been so much easier, and you are such a pretty little girl. Oh we won’t kill you tonight, don’t worry about that. We will find out where your brother is, and then we will send you off to some friends of mine. They will arrange for you to be sold to a rich client, and you may even be treated well for a few months, - well most of the time anyway.” The old man smiled at her like someone’s grandfather talking about a trip to the zoo.
“After that though…” the old man continued as Ling beamed over her brother’s head at her, “when he or she tires of playing games with you, and if there is anything left, we put you in a place where you can work to make some of our money back. After two or three years, when you are no longer a cute little girl, you have to work very hard to pay us. If you not work hard, we put you in a film for other special clients. Do you know what a snuff film is? NO? Well let’s just say that it’s a film for people of a certain rare taste. They like to watch some whore get gang raped, and then slowly strangled or suffocated. I’ll even make sure your Father gets a copy. Now, if you had been alone, we could never make back all of our money. Most of it, though, probably.
Now, since you have thoughtfully brought your pretty little friend along, we can certainly make back more than your brother took from us. So you see, when we do find him, and we have our money, it will be simply a matter of honor for us to make an example of you both; and…, we will find him.”
The horror of what he was saying, combined with his saintly smile, and his gentle voice and ministrations were more that Maggie could endure. She felt as if she was going to loose her mind. She was so filled with horror at the evil man’s pronouncement that she could only stare mutely at him, frozen in place, as he gently finished wiping her face lovingly with the damp cloth.
The old man then walked over to a small table, and picked up a pair of tin snips and examined them for a moment. He then placed them back on the table, and instead chose a large pair of pliers. He walked over to the young thug, and handed the pliers to him. Turning to the gorilla, he nodded, and Maggie felt her arms once again pinned behind her, as she could only stare in horror at the old man. He stared back at her for an eternity.
Then the old man turned to Ling, and indicating John said, “Take off her shoe and pull her toes off, start with the little toe on each foot.” John tried to push back against Ling, and Margaret thought he had fainted, but then she heard him whimper as Ling put him in a headlock.
It was too much for Maggie. She had tried so hard, but just could not think any more. She knew that they were both dead either way, but that did not matter. All she new in her tortured mind was that she had to stop them from hurting John even if she die. She did not even realize that the animal shriek had come from her. She flailed and twisted from the large man’s grip, heedless of the tearing sound coming from her shoulder.
“No!” she shrieked again. “Don’t hurt him, he didn’t do anything. Leave him alone, please. Please don’t hurt him, it was me! I took the money. It was me. He doesn’t know where it is…” The gorilla had finally worked loose one hand, and slapped her on the back of the head, which made her vision go black, but still Maggie pleaded, weakly. “Run, John. Don’t hurt him, please…. it was me…” Her sobs became continuous.
John watched the old man quickly step across to Ling’s gorilla and with a full swing of his arm, slap the gorilla right across his face. The gorilla didn’t move, either from the heavy blow, or in an effort to shield himself. John could see his eyes though, and he knew that he would probably be the one to kill both he and his sister that night.
The old man barked an order, biggest goon moved behind John to lock his arms, and hoist him fully up on his feet. The dragon lady came around to look at his face with an expression of awe. She slowly looked more closely at him, and shook her head chuckling. The old man just watched as if he had no particular interest in any of this.
Then the Dragon lady slowly walked right in front of John, and lifted the hem of his dress. John felt her fingers on his belly, as they slipped beneath the waistband of his panties.
John turned his head away, and began to whimper, “No…, please…” as he began to cry.
Ling just smiled and pushed her hand down into Johns Panties, and examine what she found there. Her eyes were wide, with wonder as she squeezed, and then pulled the panties out further so that she could see. John continued to whimper, and dance on his toes in an effort to escape, but it was no use. With his shoulders pinned back by the Ancient’s goon, he couldn’t even turn himself away.
Then to John’s horror, the old man walked over beside Ling, and also looked.
For one horrible instant, as Ling finally removed her hand and pulled his panties out even further forcing his hips forward, John was sure the old man would give him the same examination. In the end, though, he only looked down the panties that Ling held open for his inspection. John tried to sidle away, but the punk wrenched his arms viciously.
“Carefully, Mister Le. Don’t hurt him.” and the old man took John’s chin in his hand and gave him a most minute inspection. “This little one is probably worth many times what his sister is to our friends in Singapore. No marks. Let him go.”
Once again released, John stumbled over to Maggie to again cradle her in his lap. She was still chanting softly for him to run, while at the same time clutching fiercely to him. He tried to comfort her, oblivious to a brief conversation between Ling and the old man.
It surprised him when he realized that Ling was once more standing over him, and he flinched out of instinct, but she did not strike this time. “Where is the money?” Ling asked him as she grabbed Maggie’s hair and slowly entwined it about her fingers as she braced to pull her brutally away from him.
“It’s in the hotel safe.” he heard himself say in a whimper, as he reached out his shaking hands and began with exquisite care, to gently untangle Maggie’s hair from their tormentor’s fingers.
“And the Book?” Ling asked sharply “It’s in the safe?”
He nodded as he cradled Maggie once more with both arms.
Ling was laughing at him as she picked up the tools on the little table and left with the old man and both goons.
The sound of the door slamming still echoed when the sound of a chain being pulled through the door came loudly from the other side.
John did not know how long he cradled Maggie, it could have been hours, or it could have been days. He only knew that no matter what he whispered to her, she continued to plead softly for him to run, as if she didn’t realize he was there, for as long as he could remain conscious…
Noriko walked out of the offices of the New York Times, and paused on the sidewalk in the early morning gloom. It was never quiet in the city, but this was the quietest part of the day. She took a deep breath, amazed at how calm she felt. She knew that it was only temporary. The weak feeling in her stomach was still there, still threatening to overwhelm her at any moment. She may only have minutes left before she’d crash. So with one more look at the lighter sky in the east, she walked over to the unmarked car that waited for her at the curb, and slid in.
Mason, Chief of detectives in the 53 Precinct, and the man who’d thrown Jackson out of the interrogation room, sat sideways in the seat beside her. He said nothing for perhaps a full minute, and then in a quiet voice asked, “How did it go?”
Noriko did not look at him, and did not answer. She simply nodded her head. Mason continued to stare for a moment or two more.
“Did you tell them what I told you?” He asked.
“Yes,” Noriko said calmly. “I told them the story just as we agreed. They just loved it. An exclusive interview, two kidnapped children, and police incompetence…”
Mason completed the thought for her. “The night editor looked like he needed a smoke, I bet. It’ll be on the eight a.m. news.”
They were both silent for several minutes.
Mason laughed bitterly, “Yeah, Old Charlie has been doing this job for ten years, and will probably be doing it until his ulcer explodes, or someone steps up and kills him. You are sure you did not give them any information that would allow them to identify the kidnappers right away?” He asked with genuine concern.
Noriko once again, just nodded her head mutely.
“Good,” the detective continued, “we want to put some pressure on so that they will be afraid to move the kids, but not too much. If they think we have them, we’ll never find the small pieces…”
Even in the pale light, the detective could see he had made a mistake, and felt sorry for his choice of words, but he had a job to do. It was bad enough to risk the chief ever finding out that it was his idea for Noriko to expose the incompetence of the detectives who would replace him when he retired. If he did find out, then Mason would be out with no hope of parole as they say, less than two weeks before he was to trade his gold shield for his pension. Either way, though, it would be a gift for the citizens of New York if he succeeded in burning this bunch of thugs. They were almost the worst he’d seen.
Even more than his own personal worries, though, he wanted those kids back. If anything happened to them, he’d live with it for the few years he had left. These two he needed to find almost as much as the woman sitting beside him. Their pictures were still warm in his pocket, where he had been examining them while Miss Yokoshira had been interviewed. Given what he had seen when he interviewed the parents, he was sure how badly they needed him, because they had no one else. He felt himself realize sadly, that he needed to be the best, just one last time. At least that’s what he had prayed for. The prayer was because he only hoped he had one more in him.
“Miss, Yokoshira, we still have a chance, but I will need your help. Okay?” He said, hoping they had had enough time.
“Anything. Just get them back.” was all she said.
The detective slid back straight in the seat behind the wheel, and started the car. “If the children are killed, there could still be trouble for you, if the father wants to make it.” He said as he looked in his mirror, waiting for several cars to pass.
“That doesn’t matter,” Noriko said quietly and after a pause continued, “Is there anything else we can do?”
The detective slipped the car into gear, but did not look at her as he answered, “Well we have photos out to every patrolman in the city. Our detectives are at the hotel, and in your neighborhood. We know where some of the lesser members of the gang can be found so we are watching them to see where they may lead us. If they make a mistake we have a good chance to…”
Her voice was so soft, that were it not for the frightening dead flat tone, he might not have heard her at all. “Isn’t there anything more we can do?” She asked.
Even with all his years, her tone made the hairs on his neck stand up. Still not looking at her, the detective shook his head slightly. “No. Not a God-Damned thing.”
He pressed the gas pedal, and the car slowly moved out into the light traffic.
The night man on the desk at the Hilton had been busy for several hours. Unlike most of the city, who wouldn’t even be awake yet, he had guests who were racing to fill planes to all points. The kitchen was running close to full staff already, to meet the needs of their overnight guests, most of whom had been too tired from long stays in terminals to eat when they arrived. They were also there to prepare for another full day of banquets and receptions.
He, on the other hand had only two clerks with which to get the people out and on their way. To make it worse, he was still trying to confirm that housekeeping would have the staff to re-clean fifty more rooms by ten, so that he could meet his reservations for the coming morning. If they could not, he would have to upgrade some of the reservations to better rooms, by noon. It would start a cascade of room shifting, which would go on for days in this busy season, and worse it would cost the hotel a lot of money. He would certainly get a good part of the blame. In short, while most people in the city still slept, he had already had a long bad ‘day.’
He looked up for the minibus driver, hoping to direct his attention to some luggage behind a post on the other side of the lobby, but saw one of his junior clerks already caught the man with a sharp snap of her fingers, while somehow holding two phones to her ears. Ordinarily, it would have merited a quick talking-to in the back office, or at least a dirty look from the driver, but this morning it only got a nod. He noticed too, that there were two more people approaching his counter.
He looked them over, and seeing how young they were, and their manner of dress, he looked behind them for older adults in the party. In this day and age, he knew that people seldom dressed very well to travel, but they usually dressed better than this. Even though he was tired, his curiosity was piqued. At certain times of the day, all kinds of people wandered into lobbies of hotels. Most of the worst sort knew instinctively that they would not be tolerated, but there were always a few. Those few seldom showed up at six-thirty a.m., however.
The manager took a call, but continued to watch the two young men talking quietly to each other. He might not have the instincts of someone like their concierge, but even he could not miss this. He finished the call, without even remembering what it had been about, just as the two young men finally walked to the reservations counter.
“Good Morning,” he greeted them with the same level of cheerfulness he would have used for a movie star, the automation of too many years of practice.
“Ahm, yah, excuse me,” the one he looked at began to speak, “but I was wondering. We were in the other day, and put something in the safe, and we would like to get it back. Are you the one we talk too?”
Now of course the desk manager had some idea of what had gone on in the hotel the night before, everyone did, but he had almost no details. Even though he did not immediately connect the strange request to those events, he knew these two did not have anything worth putting in a safe. He had learned, like anyone who had long been in the hotel business, that when someone had money, but they still ‘dressed down’, there were clues. Five-dollar shoes - but a two hundred dollar hair cut. Perhaps it might be ten-year-old blue jeans, and a ten thousand dollar watch. It was something you had to be able to spot, or you could piss off the son of the guy who would buy the hotel just to put you out on the street.
He was fairly good at knowing who was who, from who was Who’s Who — as the old hotel joke went, which is why he’d lasted so long.
He looked at them for almost a moment too long, and the young man spoke again under the pressure.
“We have our room number.” The young man ventured hopefully as he slid a room key across the counter, but his nervousness showed. He was wishing very hard that he had turned down the offer of a hundred bucks for each of them to ‘run a little errand’; but he was still determined to brazen it out, unlike his speechless friend. After all he would have to slave for the super for two weeks to clear that much. He was, however, beginning to loose his nerve.
The desk manager responded, without ever loosing his smile. “Of course, Sir. I am the person you need. If you will just give me the room number and guest name, I’ll check the inventory. I’ll also need a picture ID on you, to verify our records.”
The desk manager even put his hand on the counter, in the impossible chance that the young man actually produced ID. For just a moment the silent one beside the speaker actually twitched as if he was ready to reach for his pocket, but he too stopped short.
“Ahm, I’m not sure if I have my ID, I might have left it in the car. Can’t you give us a break?” the speaking partner almost squeaked.
The Desk manager almost called the bluff, but something he could not quite put his finger on held him back. “Well I’ll see what I can do, Guest name, and room number?”
“Room seven-eighteen, under Noriko Yokoshira, she’s my friend… My girlfriend. She’s my girlfriend!”
It clicked at the mention of the name. Even the deskman was nervous now, but sought to cover it up by typing in the room.
Of course, it came up as out of service, police permission required for entry, “report all contacts.” However, the manager had not read a word on the screen but simply stared. It gave him the chance to click the mouse button four times on an icon at the top of the screen. If they were awake back in the security office, it should call his station to their attention, and enable them to even pull up the same screen he was viewing.
They were awake. Out of the corner of his eye, the deskman saw at least two different cameras swing toward him. He could not see four other hidden cameras that had already snapped toward his position.
“And your name sir?” he asked as casually as he knew how.
“Aaah…, Brad.”
“Your last name, sir.” Knowing that the first name was fake, he hoped to take one last chance to rattle him.
“Ahm… Williams. Hey look, if I need to I can get my girl to pick this thing up later today. Will you be here?”
The deskman was about to try to keep the young man talking, but he saw at that moment, a house detective step through a door into the lobby with another man he didn’t know, and give him a sight nod. “No, Sir, but anyone can help you, I’m sure. Just come to the desk.” he smiled, a little sickly this time, but still nothing to tip the two.
The two boys were already headed to the door at an admirable speed, so they did not even have the chance to wonder at the out of place nature of his smile. That was ok. They now had a corporate house detective, and two NYC detectives in tow…
John awoke, with not so much of a start, as with overwhelming confusion. Margaret, who was lying against him, had moaned in her sleep. For a moment or two he could not understand why his sister was curled up against him, and clutching him so tightly in her sleep that he could not move. He wanted to do so badly, because something was digging into his hip. Then it came back to him. He quickly looked about the room, like a trapped animal, fearing that there may be some other physical danger about to fall upon them.
John began to shift as carefully as he could, so that he did not hurt Maggie. He had not been able to get her to respond to any questions last night, but he was pretty sure that she had been hurt inside. All he had been able to do was to hold her while she kept calling for him. He did know that when he touched her left arm, or her left side, she flinched and silently tired to turn that side away from him to protect it.
Never the less, John was finally able to lift himself without waking, Maggie. Reaching down between the cushions, he was surprised to find that he had slept on the large pair of toenail clippers. Carefully, he slipped the clippers back under the cushion, and ran his hand along the crack as far as he could reach, to see if there was anything else useful. There was nothing else of value but an old book of a few matches, and a plastic fork in napkin packet from some fast food restaurant. Mostly it was just some candy wrappers, and a few small coins. John placed some of the items on the arm of the couch for the time being. After searching one more time, he slipped what he had retrieved into a small pocket in his jumper.
John then began to examine Maggie. She had a black eye, and her face was bruised on both sides, but her left cheek was the worst. She had dried blood on her dress, and in her nose. Looking at her head, he could see where she had some blood in her hair, but as he carefully moved the hair, he could tell that the cut he found there was not very deep. He prayed that she did not have a concussion, because he did not really even know what one was, let alone how to help if she did. He only knew that it was bad
Then, most carefully of all, he began to run his hand down Maggie’s left arm. He could feel that her elbow was swollen, and her wrist looked swollen too. He moved her wrist and hand, which caused her to moan.
John began to cry softly over his sister. He knew that it was a stupid thing to do, but he could not help it. The fact that he knew that he should be trying to find a way to get help, or at least think of a way to keep them from killing them outright, made him feel even worse. He had always known that he owed Maggie more than he could ever repay for all that she had done for his whole life; and, now that she needed him so badly, he had no idea what to do. What she had done last night had stunned him almost as much as it had broken his heart. All he could seem to think about, was how she had been willing to let them beat her to death — to protect him.
In the end, all he could do was to pray that she was OK. Not knowing what to do for her was almost worse than when they had come at him last night. So he cried silently, so as not to wake his sister to the horror of where they were.
&Nbsp;
Some time later, when his head began to clear, he managed to get up, and move around. He looked around the room for any sign of escape, but found nothing. He also tried to call out softly at the door to see if there was anyone on the other side. If there was, he did not hear any response. It was while checking the door that Maggie began to shift, and trying to sit up.
John rushed back over to his sister, and helped her up gently. She was sitting up, before her eyes rose to see his face. She did not say a word, but simply slipped her right arm around his neck, and pulled his head tightly to her shoulder. He felt silly that he was crying again, but not that much. This time it was relief.
“Are you Ok, Maggie?” He whispered softly.
Maggie groaned, and released him slowly. She tried to say something, but could not until she cleared her throat, an action that clearly hurt her, judging by the face that she made the first few times she tried.
“I’m… I’m OK.” she managed.
“Can I look at your side?” John asked.
Maggie tried to raise her blouse up on the left side, but she could not make it. John helped her, seeing more bruises on her legs, and then on her side, just at the bottom of her ribs.
“God, Maggie,” he said as he looked at her side, “That looks bad. I’m so sorry.”
“Not you, John.” The effort of talking clearly cost her.
John asked if there was anything he could do
“I hurt, John, but I’ll be ok, I think.” Maggie said probing her own side gently.
“What did they hit you with?” John said, looking for the cloth they had used last night, and gratefully finding it, along with some napkins, on the side of the couch. Of course, by now only very slightly damp, so he licked the corner, as he gently tried to clean his sister’s face.
“Didn’t.” Maggie began. “Bitch knocked me off the chair. Big one, picked me up, and threw me back, but the chair fell over, and I fell over the side of it.” Maggie finished panting for breath. “Hurts. Hands tied, I fell over side of chair. Think I passed out, because I woke up on the couch.”
“I’m so sorry, Maggie. You should have told them sooner.” John began…
For the first time, Maggie moved quickly, as she looked up, and looked at his face, but clearly she was not focused on him. She was remembering what had happened last night.
“Oh god, John. I’m sorry. I told them it was you…” She began to sob freely.
“It’s OK, Maggie. You had to. If you hadn’t we would both be dead. It’s ok You saved us.” John said to her as convincingly as he possibly could. Maggie just nodded her head.
“I have to Pee.” She said softly, looking about the room. “Bad” And then she tried to smile at him
He almost laughed, because it had come out of nowhere, but the humor only lasted for moments — as he realized that he did too.
Detective Alan Baxter had only been on the job for two weeks. He had spent most of his career in uniform for the 53rd. He loved the people he worked with, or most of them. He loved the job — usually. Not today. Detective Jackson had transferred in from another precinct four months before. He was supposed to be training Baxter, as the newest detective in the unit, but Baxter had forgotten more about police work than this Jackson guy ever knew. His mother had forgotten more about police work than this guy ever new. He had almost blown the tail two separate times.
It was good though. Mason had pulled him aside, and talked to him before they left the station. “I know you’ve been here since you were born; but, just keep your eyes open. You are a detective now, Baxter. I recommended you, so I want you to do well, but more than that, I want you to get those kids back. You watch yourself out there. If you find them, don’t do anything, unless they try to move them. These are bad people; as bad as any you will ever meet. If they do try to move them, and you have to move in, shoot first, and don’t stop until they are down. We’ll do what we have to afterwards. Understood?”
Baxter had been a little shocked, but he knew the score. This was one of those jobs where cops would die the moment they screwed up. These Asian hoods were always having their wars, like in the old west. They would not hesitate to pop anyone who got in their way, cops included. The few guys in the Tong, whom he had met personally, would have gladly come at him the first chance they got, and he knew it. So be it. It would be no quarter if it came to it. If only Jackson could keep from blowing the fucking tail…
Baxter squeezed the microphone. “Jackson!… Unit C is in place, and we should turn off now. I think we should ease back a little, and take the next left, and follow on 83rd.” He said as casually as possible, when Jackson had missed his turn off...
John was looking around for something for them to use, but all he found was a small office type plastic trash can under the table with the lamp that had been placed just beside the door. So first he dumped a couple of pieces of paper out of it, he didn’t know why really, and then he helped Maggie over to where he put the bucket behind the upholstered chair in the corner. After her, he used it too.
Maggie was still in pain, but she was moving much better now as she carefully flexed to find the extent of her mobility. John took the opportunity to search the rest of the couch, and then the chair. The only other things he found were some comic books on the floor under the chair, and a dime. Maggie looked over what he had, then she looked around the room, and then moved to look at the door herself.
There were no windows, and just a ventilator pipe on the ceiling, which she could never reach. John picked up the toenail clippers, and walked over to the door behind Maggie. Again, he called softly, which startled her, but when he received no answer again, he tried the knob. To his complete amazement, the knob turned, and the door opened four inches. Unfortunately, that was all it would move before a chain finally stopped it.
Maggie quickly pushed him aside, and moved to listen at the crack, before she reached out to feel the chain for as far as she could reach. However, Maggie could not stand the pain it caused for her to reach out and around the doorframe, so she motioned John back over.
“Just look for a hook or a lock.” She said softly.
John got his arm out, and began to feel the chain, but he could not do it either. Then he got an idea, and began to slide the chain through the hasp as quietly as possible. He wend as softly as he could, but in the empty hallway, it sounded like an ongoing freeway pileup. Soon enough, however, a padlock came into view, and they knew that the chain was there to stay.
In a moment of inspiration, John sat on the floor, and taking hold of the edge of the door near the bottom, and bracing his feet on the wall, he tried to pull the door to enlarge the gap, hoping they could slide through - but it was no use. It was metal, and very solid.
Looking at the door again, Maggie moved to the other side where the hinges were.
“Close the door, and bring the clippers here, John.” she whispered.
They began to examine the hinges. If they could pull out the pins, they could get the door open. They might just get out of there yet. John began to work on the pins by pushing the clippers under the head of the pin, and pushing up, while Maggie looked at the rest of the furnishings in the room.
John quickly got the middle pin out of the door, but the top and the bottom had some kind of ring on the bottom of the pin. He did not try to force it, because he felt that to damage the door, and not get out would only ruin their last chance. He wanted to check it out a little more before he began to hack at the pins. Maggie agreed, and they both looked around again.
“Any Ideas?” Maggie asked.
“Yes, I’m pretty sure that the thing on the bottom of the pins unscrews. I can probably pull the pins out, but I’m not going to be able to get them back in, and the door looks pretty heavy. It may fall, if we move it…”
John looked around the room for a moment or two.
“Also, we have the lamp, but It’s too light to do much damage, even if I could get behind one of them.” John paused in thought for just a moment, and then continued “…But, we could take the cord off, but I’m not sure what good it would do, because even if I could get it around one of their necks, I’m not sure if I’d be strong enough….” He finished, shaking his head with worry, and disgust.
“What do you mean about the cord?” She asked. “It’s an electrical cord.” She finished to herself, softly.
John tried to follow her idea. “Well, we could pull the cord out of the lamp, and then plug it in to give them a shock…” He started to explain, but she interrupted him as she began to get excited.
“That’s right, we could electrocute the bitch…” She began, but stopped when John put the tips of his fingers on her lips.
“Maggie, I don’t think that will work. I mean did you ever get a shock from an outlet?”
“Yes, you know I have?” she said wondering what he was getting at.
“Well, so have I, and Neither of us are dead, are we.” He asked.
“Right.” She said as she thought little more. “When people get in water or something, and get really grounded, then they fry. If not, then you just get a jolt.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. We don’t have any water, and without it, I think it would just piss them off.” He finished, as he looked back at the door. When he looked back at Maggie, she had this really funny look on her face.
“What is it, do you hear them?” he asked while trying to listen harder.
“No, it’s just something that you said. It made me think that we do have something. It’s in the trash can.” She said this while looking at the lamp. Then Maggie took two steps over to retrieve the trash bucket, and placed it on the floor in front of the little table with the lamp.
John had a dubious, and distasteful look on his face as he spoke “I suppose you’re right, but I don’t think that we should try anything cute. I say we just pull the pins out of the door, and get the heck out of here. Can you Move, Maggie? I don’t want to be here when they get back.” he was really terrified, and it showed.
“You’re damned right I’ll move; but John, even if I can’t, you have to keep going. You have to get away.” He began to argue, but she stopped him with her tone. “John, I’m sorry, but you know what Nor said. As long as one of us is loose, the others are better off. If you have to go, you go; and please, we don’t have time to argue.
“What about Noriko?” He asked.
“I don’t know, John. I think that if they found her, that they would have brought her in here too. If they found her, and killed her, then they would have said something I think, but they haven’t. I just don’t know. All I know is that we can’t wait for her to find us. I don’t think that we have that much time. Even if she is still alive.”
John could see that just saying that had cost his sister dearly. Tears were sliding down her face, and she made no effort to wipe them away. “Hurry, John.”
It was clear that Maggie thought they should not have wasted even the few minutes they had taken to look for other ways out. John had seen it in the eyes of their captors too. If they could not get away before the bad guys came back, then they were dead.
John did not say any more. He simply turned back to the door, and began to work on the bottom hinge pin. It took him longer than he thought, but he finally figured out how he had to unscrew the bottom, which was hard since he only had one pair of toenail clippers that he’d had to bend open to grab hold of the bottom of the pin. He got it out finally, though, and then pulled one of the metal chairs over to begin working on the top hinge, while Maggie unplugged the lamp on the table beside him…
Noriko, and Mason were sitting in his small office at the station, listening to reports from the units in the field. The detectives had been following the pair from the hotel for over an hour, but for the last thirty minutes, they seemed to be taking their time. They had been in the same small area for a good fifteen minutes, and except for a couple of phone calls, they showed no sign of moving on, or doing much of anything. This told the officers that the meeting must be soon, but even though the cops seemed pleased by this, it was little consolation for Noriko.
She was in her own private hell, not knowing how she had screwed up, except for the fact that they must have been seen. She also knew that that the thing that was eating at her the most was that she had already done all that she could. There was nothing more that she could do, and she had never felt so helpless, and hopeless in her life.
For Detective Captain Mason, it was a hard wait also. He knew that there were actually two possibilities for why the two suspects had stopped where they were. They could have made the tail, which given what he thought of Jackson, seemed the most likely reason to his mind. His only consolation was that punks this young would usually run. To stop and stay put was the mark of a much older and much more experienced criminal.
Baxter had not said anything specifically on the air, but several of his calls had left little doubt that Jackson had not turned particularly competent at any time this particular morning.
It was about that time, that the Precinct Commander walked into his office, and slammed the door so hard behind him that at first Mason thought he had broken the glass. It was obvious that the Chief had just gotten in, and that he was as angry as Mason had ever seen him.
“Detective, would you mind telling me just what the fuck has been going on here this morning?”
Precinct Chief Webber looked for all the world like a man who was fighting to get the words out without biting his own tongue off. He finished by slamming a fax that had come in from The Times on Mason’s desk.
“You just take a look at that god damned story that The Times is asking me to comment on before they send it to print by ten this morning! On top of that, my wife just called me, and told me that the news is running a story about how we’ve completely fucked up the Chin Lau investigation so bad that we not only let the top members of the gang probably walk Scot-free; but now we may be responsible for two child witnesses being murdered. I’d kind of like to know if it’s true before I talk to these jokers, so you damned well better start telling me what’s going on, and damned fast; because, in three minutes or less, you had better be telling me what the fuck have you been doing about it!”
Weber stopped, glairing at Mason, his breathing so heavy that he looked now like a bull in a ring, who was just making up his mind when to charge.
Mason picked up the fax, mostly to cover the fact that he already knew what was written there, and scanned it, before he looked back at his boss.
“It’s very simple Al. The two kids took the bag money that we thought walked away, and it looks like the Tong got to them first. In part, it was because this woman tried to get the kids out of town. In part because, thanks to that Fuck-up that they sent down here to take over for me, we lost about three hours with the boy wonder doing an impression of a detective with his head up his ass. I got here about a half hour after I got the call from the desk sergeant and one of my men, telling me that Jackson had made a possible collar in the Lau case.”
Webber looked back at Noriko, and asked “Then, why isn’t she in a cell, Captain?”
“Because she hasn’t been charged. She is assisting us in this investigation.” Mason said calmly.
“Well at the very least, Mason, she’s a material witness in a capitol kidnapping case, and is guilty of obstruction. Would you like to explain what the fuck she is doing giving interviews to the press in the middle of the night? And while you are at it, perhaps you can give me a reason why I don’t lock you both up in the same cell right now, so that I can get to the bottom of this whorehouse you call an investigative unit?”
If Jackson had not held her, and read her rights to her before he had any idea exactly what was going on, I probably would have been able to stop this. But since she was demanding that she be released already, I knew that if we did, that it would look like we were just stalling around like a second rate bunch of fools. The second she got her lawyer in here, it would take him about five minutes on the phone with judge Hanes, who was on the bench last night by the way, to secure an order for her release.
You see, Al. Not only would that set us up for false arrest, but also it would have possibly prevented us from securing help from Miss Yokoshira. I thought it would be better to get her on our side quickly. At least, I thought it would be a lot better than just locking up someone who’s told us everything already, and perhaps it would even allow us to focus on the kids. I need her help if I’m to get those kids back.”
“What about the Kids?” Webber asked. This time, the sound of his voice, and even his facial expression looked completely different.
“We have two of the bagman under tail right now, and we are hoping they will contact one of the top tong members shortly. Hopefully, it will be one who will lead us to them. It sucks, but right now, it’s the best we have. We know who has them, but we don’t know where they are.” Mason wanted to yell too, but knew that it would do no good. “Wherever they are, I hope the news story will keep them put long enough, because those S.O.B’s will be afraid to move them.”
“Jesus H. Christ!, so that was your idea? Well tell me, Captain, what if they are in a secure place, what do you think Lau will do to them?”
Mason took another breath, as his eyes flickered in Noriko’s direction. “Since they obviously know where the money is, then they could have killed the kids already. If they were going to do that, then it’s too late. The story is the best hope, if they are not already dead. If they are, then it doesn’t matter, because we are already looking for them with as many men as we could pull in from other duties. Either way, if it makes them nervous enough to make a mistake, so much the better.”
Noriko was now sobbed almost silently, but although both men heard her, neither turned away from the battle of wills that was taking place. Perhaps it was what made them such good friends. It definitely made them both better cops.
Al’s shoulders slumped only slightly. “Jesus. If those kids are already dead, then the press and the Mayor will have my ass on the flagpole down at the City Hall. They’ll have a field day.” He shook his head. “I hope you realize that the field we are talking about will be both our asses! You had better not fuck this up, Mason, because if you do we are all out of a job, and before I turn in my gun and shield, I will, by god, shoot you and that stupid bastard Jackson myself. But for now, I want her locked up.”
“On what Charge, Al?” Mason asked far more calmly than he felt.
“Grand theft for the money, and Obstruction.” He snapped.
“It won’t wash, Al. She sent a letter to the Commissioner detailing where the money could be found. If that letter shows up, which I’m sure it will, we have no grounds. The obstruction would be pretty hard to push too, considering I wanted her to talk to the press. That, and the fact that she gave a statement that she had intended to contact the police or the FBI once the children were safely out of town, because she had reason to believe from local contacts that the tong had infiltrated this unit…”
The chief’s eyes snapped to Noriko, but his mouth only tightened, and he said nothing.
“…The best we can nail her for is being scared and stupid. Unfortunately, it’s not only you and I who will know that what she did wasn’t all that stupid. If we bust her now, it’s going to look like retaliation to every two-bit stringer with a course in journalism.”
“Well was it your fucking brainstorm to tell them that we were the most incompetent bunch of imbeciles since the porcupine tried to fuck on an electrically heated waterbed?”
“No. I think you can thank Jackson for that idea, Al. He came up with that all on his own. I only let the story out to try and save two little kids. He was the one with the liquored up porcupine in his bed.” Mason said flatly, his calm about to slip finally.
Frustrated, but knowing his friend better than he did his own wife, the chief of detectives turned on Noriko. “You want to tell me why you went tried to make us look like fools. Did you think that part would help? Why didn’t you come to us, before you tired to stick a knife in our backs?”
Noriko just looked back at him for a moment or two. She was too tired to care any more. She spoke her mind: “Come to you?” she gave an excellent impression of incredulity; which just may have come from hanging around with all those theater companies for so long. “And just where were you all this time, captain? I didn’t see you when that ass had me in an interrogation room half the night. How many people have you gone down to see in an interrogating room, while your god-damned detectives were acting like a bunch of apes having a shit fight at the zoo? I suspect we both know the answer.
It wasn’t your back I stabbed. If you look carefully, the bruise where I kicked you is a little lower than that. I just want those children found, and I don’t care what happens to you, or to me, or most especially not some idiot detective lieutenant who is so obviously unfit to pick up after a dog.” Even Noriko was amazed at how calm and normal her voice sounded.
The Chief knew that his only chance was for the children to be found safe, and that those odds were very long indeed. He looked back at Mason, who just returned his stare, while he tried to assess his odds. Even if he threw his friend down the chute right here and now, and tried to save what he could, it would not be enough. Nothing he did now would matter. If this went south, then they were both screwed. He could see in Mason’s eyes that he knew all this too. Well, at least if he had to risk his pension at this late date, it was on the one man who had never failed him… Yet.
The chief motioned his Detective Captain to follow him, and both men walked out of the room. All personality was forgotten, as both tried to see what they could do to improve the odds.
When they had left, Noriko physically slumped in the chair. If there had been any other person in the room to hear, they would have noticed how loud the ticking of the clock sounded at that moment, and perhaps if they listened closely enough, a very small sad voice that said: “Where are you?”
It was impossible with one set of stupid clippers, but he could not give up now. He was almost frantic trying to get the last pin out. So much so that Maggie had even stopped urging him on. He didn’t respond to her anymore anyway. She worked on the lamp, trying to pull the cord off, intending to use it to strangle the first person through the door. Perhaps in that way, John at least could get away.
She had no success, until John threw the pair of nail clippers on the table in disgust. He had been using them to jam into the gap between that ring at the bottom of the pin, and the door, trying to hold it as he turned the pin to loosen. He found, however, that by jamming in pieces of the plastic fork instead, that the last pin was starting to turn finally. Feeling like an idiot, Maggie picked up the clippers, and quickly snipped off the cord at the base.
The radio call came in while Mason and Al were still outside. “This is Baxter, we have them.” he said, and then as if he was talking to someone else away from the microphone. “No! Don’t move. Lets see what happens.”
Another voice came through “Let go of my arm, Baxter. Who the fuck you think you are…” before the click of the mic button cut off the tirade.
“Christ.” Mason Whispered to himself, and walked over to the encrypted radio set that they were using to monitor from the squad room. The detective who was monitoring the set did not even look over his shoulder at Mason, as his boss reached past his shoulder for the microphone. “Baxter, this is Mason. What do you have?”
“We got two of them, Captain. The big scary looking one who runs around with the woman Ling, and the other big fellow who we thought worked directly for Lau himself. It looks like they are moving in to talk with the kids now. It looks like we have some the tong’s top people on this one, so we may be lucky.” Then, they heard the mike button snap again, followed by a short burst of static.
“Baxter, listen,” looking at the Map that was spread on the desk, the one that the detective sitting at the desk was holding a sharpened pencil point on, “can you make it over to unit C on foot?”
“I think so, but if you’ll forgive me, Sir, that’s not a very good idea. It may attract their attention to us. These guys are not like trailing a bunch of kids. These are the bodyguards for the top members of the Tong. We’ll be lucky to even track of them without giving it all away.”
“I know that, Baxter, but I need Jackson here, and I need him now. We have another lead, and I want my most experienced man to coordinate with the Chief Inspector on it.” He hoped the lie sounded better on the other end.
The station chief just nodded at Mason. He had been around a long time, and knew that he had been coldly had when one of the “top candidates” from another precinct had been rammed down his throat. He knew that he was probably going to get a fuck-up of some type. He just never envisioned it would be this bad. This guy surpassed all their expectations. In a weak moment, the desk sergeant had said that he must have been fucking the Mayor’s dog for years, with full motion video, to still carry a shield. Being the mayor’s nephew couldn’t possibly be enough.
Again they heard an argument going on. “I don’t care what he fu…” The line went dead again with a loud snap.
It was almost a full minute later when Baxter called in again. “Captain, when they move, Jackson, and I will sit tight, and I’ll let unit bravo tail them. He is in front of them anyway. Then I’ll jump out, and duck through the store on the corner, and Jackson will be on the way back. What the…”
Then Jackson’s voice came on. “Sir I protest this order. It could ruin my investigation when we are very close here. Is this really necessary?”
“It’s necessary, Jackson. Just get yourself back here. We don’t need you for this, and I’m calling in other units to join the parade. We need more men on this one, and I need you here to coordinate the larger op.”
He snapped his fingers at the detective at the desk, and held up two fingers to the man. This was unnecessary, thought, since the detective was already on the phone with dispatch, ordering in two more teams of detectives and passing the word to the uniformed units in the area that they were in play. Mason continued as if none of that were going on: “Besides you’ve been on them all morning. It’s better for you to pull back, and let someone else take over. Out.”
Mason killed the mike in disgust. “His investigation! Slimy little bastard.” He whispered just loud enough that no one outside of the building could possibly have heard him.
The bottom of the door pin turned freely now. Two of John’s fingers were bleeding, because he had only gotten it to turn by getting his finger stuck between the pin and the door; but, the pin was slowly moving, held now only by the weight of the door.
“Maggie!” he called urgently, “I think I’ve got it.” As he began twist and pull the pin as hard as he could, grunting freely with the effort. She came over, still holding the shade-less lamp and a cord in her hands.
“Good, John. Hurry!”
“I am.” She heard.
Noriko looked at the clock. It was ten, a.m. She must have dozed. While she was sleeping, her mind had not stopped, though. In her unconscious state, her Id had played the cruelest of games with her by summoning up all manor of horrible ends for friends. The most common of which was the thought that when the thugs had seen the news, that they had slaughtered the children right in front of the TV as it blared out their peril. Noriko thought she would be physically ill many minutes after she awoke.
The news story had sent the ‘thugs’ into consternation. Noriko could not know that it had in fact bought time for several hours while they decided what to do. Had it not been for that, the children would have been in a van on the way west, and well out of town at that hour. Unfortunately, now it looked like they would be headed east, later tonight, instead: toward the river
Ling knew that she had to recover that money, if she were ever to save face, but her uncle was already telling her to cut their losses. She had no doubts of her tenuous standing with him, family or no. When their two bodyguards got back, she was to start cleaning up. She was already on the way back to the factory to check on the little shit she had left there to watch them. She had half a mind to get rid of him as well, but did not know how to do it, without freaking out her own bodyguard.
Perhaps she would tell him to stay and clean up the factory before the workers came back on Monday. The factory was just coming in sight, and she smiled in spite of herself. At least she was free to pay the little bitch, and her darling little brother back for the trouble they had caused her. Her stomach began to flutter with the excitement she always felt at such times. Soon, now. Very soon…
On impulse, Maggie knelt down, and plugged in the cord. She tentatively touched it to the metal of the table leg, causing an unimpressive electrical arc. She laid it carefully on the wooden tabletop. John was grunting with effort, and bending over as she was, she could clearly see that the thin metal of the chair he was standing on was beginning to buckle. “Hold it John!” she hissed. “The chair is breaking. Here, try this,” she said, as she handed him the lamp. It was too much for him to do at one time, however, and finally they wound up with him holding the clippers on the pin as tightly as he could, while she hit them from the bottom with the lamp. Suddenly, without warning the pin slipped free.
For full second or two, both John and Maggie watched the door as if they expected it to pop open by itself. The door did not move however, which confused both children.
“Now what?” John asked to himself, as he stepped off the chair, and reached over to pull the door open by the knob. For the first inch of travel, the door swung out just as it normally would.
Maggie whispered, “John, be…”
He never heard the rest. The door, which was much heavier than either of them suspected, slipped off of the hinges, and swing by the chain down onto metal chair, creating a series of loud metallic bangs and booms that seemed to shake the floor itself. It was the door itself, which even as it swung around, that fortunately knocked John away, and onto his rear.
It seemed that the door had only just come to rest, laying sideways, but still partially blocking the door where it was held up at an angle by the chain; when they could hear the sound of a door slamming down the hall, and running feet.
In panic, Maggie rushed to see if John was Ok. He was, and he was almost back up on his feet before she could reach him. The running feet were closer now, their loud sound punctuated with swearing. Maggie unconsciously held the lamp in front of her as she stepped between John and the door.
The punk that had been there last night suddenly slid to a halt in the doorway. Clearly, he had been asleep, as he looked from the door to the two children. “What the fuck…” he started to climb into the room over the door, over anxious to get at the still trapped children, when finally he took notice of the lamp that Maggie held before her. He stopped, balancing precariously on the door as it shifted on the chain; and, with his eyes never leaving the children he began to reach to the small of his back in an effort to draw his gun.
John and Maggie had been in this position once before, trapped in the elevator, and had tried the calm approach. Not this time. John began to push past her, but it was Maggie who sprang forward with a loud shriek, and slammed the lamp into the thugs shoulder. She had aimed at his head, but he had put his right hand up to protect himself.
The force of the blow was not great enough to put him out of commission, but it did cause him to loose his balance, and he began to scramble for footing. “Fuck!” he shouted, as he finally lost his balance, and fell very heavily to the door, and slid into the table and the wastebasket sitting there.
Both Maggie and John were frozen in place for a moment, as they watched the spectacle of the young hood crashing to the floor. Unfortunately, it was just enough time to allow him to bring the gun back up, and point it at Maggie’s face. “Drop it, or I blow your frigging brains out, you little pain in the ass.” Maggie was ready strike out, but John, seeing the impossible odds clearly, reached over and pushed the lamp down until Maggie released it.
At the sound of the lamp thudding on the floor, the hood reached down without looking away from the children, and pushed the wastebasket away from his feet. Feeling that he was soaked, his eyes snapped involuntarily to look at his feet as they slipped on the wet floor, and door.
The hood put his hand down to the bottoms of his jeans, and touched the wetness he felt there. “What the fuck did you do?” he asked, as he brought the tips of his fingers to his nose…
His eyes flashed around to blaze at the two children. “You fucking little bitch. I’m going to kill you myself,” he screamed at them. Then in anger, he turned to untangle his feet, as he tried to pull himself out of the offal liquid he was sitting in. In his murderous rage, kicked the table away from him, causing the cord to fall onto his legs.
The reaction was instant. The thug tried to scream but the sound that came out was more like a prolonged grunt, as his spine arched, slamming his head back into the door. He continued to spasm, as the light in the ceiling began to dim, and the buzz of live electrical circuits began to grow louder. Again the hood tried to scream. His hand still convulsively gripped the steel doorframe, and his eyes rolled back in his head, as smoke began to rise from his lower legs.
Then the lights went out.
Maggie and John just stood there for moments, neither moving, until the lights flickered once more, as the automatic breakers tried to reset. This causing the thug’s body to lurch upward again, but this time much less so than he had done when he was still alive.
That was enough. Maggie reached for John’s arm, and began to move to the door. John started to reach for the gun in the punk’s hand, but Maggie pulled him frantically back. “No, John! You’ll be electrocuted” and just then the lights flickered again, showing that Maggie was probably right.
Looking at the door, both children were afraid to try and cross it with the electricity going on and off at random. Suddenly, John, then got an idea, and ran back to the couch, and pulling the cushions off. Once he got back over beside Maggie, he put them on top of the door so that they could get out. In moments they were outside, and their footsteps echoing down the corridor as they ran…
"Unit B! Move! Move! I think they are looking at you, I want you to pull up and pass them on the left. You are out of it, so just keep going.” Once again there was the low mummer of the open channel. Baxter swore before it went dead.
It was the second unit that the young detective had pulled out of the tail. He was running out of units fast at this rate, but Mason knew he was right. Mason did not even consider reaching for the handset. These two were the bodyguards, and were used to looking for set ups, and traps at all times. He knew that one mistake, and if the kids were still alive, a cell call would be made…
Thank god he pulled Jackson out. The kid was doing well, bringing a twinge of personal vindication to Mason’s gut for recommending him, but the odds were still foul. It was the thugs second trip through the two same neighborhoods, obviously checking for surveillance. Watching Baxter try to keep the situation alive was like seeing a kitten thrown into a pit with two bulldogs. The kitten was keeping away, but how long could it last. All Mason could do was to silently cheer him on for each new minute he lasted.
Mason looked back at the door to his office, wherein the woman waited. He had no real intention of telling her but he badly wanted to.
It would do no good, and he knew that desire came mostly from his feeling so helpless. Well, there was one thing he could do. He picked up the phone, and hit the four-digit code that would connect him to the 42nd precinct’s dispatcher. It was just a few seconds when he started to speak “This is Mason at the 53rd. I have a tail moving into your zone, and I need at least two plain-clothes backup units to assist. Subject is moving down Watson Boulevard, between Geary and Hospital Square. Subjects are armed and extremely dangerous. I also need you to get Detective Captain Benson on the phone, right now…” He did not think they would get there in time, but it was something.
Out on Watson Blvd., Baxter was reaching over the back seat into a bag to pull out a baseball cap, and some sunglasses. It was rapidly reaching the point that they may have to peal off for good too, but his instinct alone was telling him he still had one more shot in there with the hat trick. He wished it were a pair of pants. Detective Baxter was sweating so bad that he felt like he had pissed his seat.
Best not to think of that though…, he thought uncomfortably.
No one had designated him in command. In fact, any one of the detectives on the detail outranked him, and at least two should have taken over. They were all listening to the same channel however, and the calls to the Captain had seemingly designated him. Besides, everyone was just too damned busy trying not to bee seen. At least two realized that it was a no-win, that they really didn’t want any part of. Baxter had almost expected a call ordering him back to the precinct house too, but mostly he was just too busy and too scared to think about it.
“Baxter, this is Mason, come in!” For just a moment, he felt like he might just piss himself after all- or at the very least throw up. Slipping the hat on his head, he picked up the microphone and almost choked, “Go, sir!”
“Easy Baxter! You are doing fine. Now listen. There is a green mustang up ahead of you, do you see it.”
Baxter looked, and quickly spotted the car about two blocks up, being driven by an older woman. “I have it sir. Why?” he asked more abruptly than he had wanted to speak to the man who was to all extents his mentor.
Mason, came right back: “Now listen son. That’s an unmarked pursuit car from the 42nd. On the next turn by the suspects, the officer will pull to the side, and take you in the car. I have three more cars lined up, and two more units of detectives from the 42nd joining you on this TAC channel right now. They will be unit E in a gray Taurus, and F in a black Volvo wagon, and a black and white. Copy?”
“Copy Sir.” Baxter said, more grateful for the sanction from Mason, than he was for the actual cars.
“Now be careful. The officer in the Mustang has been instructed to watch to make sure that the suspect vehicle is out of sight first, but when she’s sure, she will stop wherever she is. You have to move fast, so that you don’t cause a traffic snarl, and attract too much attention. For god’s sake, don’t get in an accident, because that will tip off the goons. Leave detective Burk in your unit, and get ahead of them as fast as you can. Copy?” Mason had said it all with one breath.
It was a few seconds more than he expected, before Baxter came on the line. So long in fact that Mason was just about to call him back. Finally, when the speaker once again carried Baxter’s voice, he was speaking to the team. “All Units. This is Baxter. We just got some help. I’m going to execute a car swap into a green Two-thousand-seven Mustang, plate number Alpha-Lima-Echo-one-five-three. I want unit Bravo to move forward to take position behind unit Delta. Unit Echo will move into position, and get ready to take over after Unit Bravo. Unit Charlie, will drop out, and contact base on another channel, and follow at a distance. Unit A, the green mustang, will continue down Weston, and move to do a cross over. Units, Echo, and Fox, acknowledge.”
Mason sighed, and looked at the Precinct Captain. He too had once aspired to be an Assistant Chief of the whole force, and had even once, for two horrible years, been a precinct commander. He had found, however, as he grew older, that he preferred police work. His friend had those now, and he was glad that they were his babies. To his great surprise, his boss just nodded at him, and picking up the fax, turned and walked out of the room.
It was unwritten, but clearly understood between them both, that once he was out of the picture, that someone would look after young detective, Baxter. The boy was very good, and deserved that much at least.
From somewhere behind him, he could hear a loud arrogant, and grating voice demanding his whereabouts. Mason smiled. It did not matter any more that Jackson had the same last name as the Mayor. This was one thing that he could do, and was damned well going to enjoy it.
With the Newspapers hitting the streets in a few hours, he had a free hand to deal with this particular asshole. With his retirement papers in hand, there was no way for the bastards pushing him along to retaliate either. Yes, this was going to be a small pay back that he should have been able to give for a half a dozen assholes over the past thirty-six years, and he was going to make it count. That had been understood, but unspoken between he and his boss as well.
Mason turned back to another detective. “Cassandra, would you go and get Miss Yokoshira out of my office for a few minutes. Take her down to get some food into her. I don’t want her here right now, and I’m going to need my office?”
“Yes Captain.” The woman who was almost as young as Baxter was, answered with only a slight smile. Something in her voice however, caught the attention of everyone in the room. Clearly the joy and relief at what was about to happen to her nominated boss had reached the far corners of the room. All she had said was Yes, but she might as well have called him “darling.” He treasured the relief in her eyes even more than his own anticipation.
By
Sarah Lynn Morgan
box at the top of the page. Comments are most gratefully welcome, and appreciated!
Comments
Sarah, Sarah!
I thought this was a three part story, how could you be so cruel? The kids have shown more than I would have expected, I sure hope this all ends well. I'll be dying tonight while waiting for the next part, which I hope is full of happy endings.
Karen J.
"Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose"
Janis Joplin
"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin
That was scary, not suitable for kids
I found this part rather scary and for certain reasons must give it an X-certificate. Let me explain: I read it because I am always on the lookout for suitable stories I can read with my 12-year-old TG daughter. She transitioned at age 10 and has just started taking blockers. She is now in her second year at a girls-only secondary school (I guess you'd call it junior high school in the States) and the other girls seem to accept her for what she seems to be, a lively, bubbly and giggly girl on the brink of her teens. We find it helps her if she can read stories that could be about herself, but I have to act as censor as some of the stuff on the site is much too explicit.
Incidentally she adored Samantha, and we both got very emotional about it.
Hugs and thanks,
Hilary
Hilary P & Her Ladyship
This is the third time I've recieved a response from
a parent and a child. I never even imagined, when I
began posting my silly stories... There is nothing
in me that can convey the bredth of my prayer for you,
and her ladyship. The language hasen't been invented.
I would like to post something though. It was a part of
a letter, which I wrote back to one girl and her mother.
I heard back from them some time later, that it was the
one thing that helped them most of all.
I won't live long enough for anyone to overtop that
comment.
Thank You, Hilary. Thank you, your Ladyship.
I'm so glad you have each other.
Sarah Lynn
Mrs. Txxxxxxx, when it comes to all of this, you should know I'm no
wiser than anyone else. I don't know if anyone is really wise. All I know
is this. Right now it's like you are suddenly speaking a different language.
For someone like you, who does not feel what gender dysphoria is, it's really
impossible to understand the feeling of having something inside that most
people ever gave a second thought to question in their lives. Jessiegirl,
You need to be patient with your mom. You need to teach her that language,
and all that you feel inside; help her understand, and then you can help
each other.
I can't even suggest that I might know where someone else's path will lead.
I'm too busy trying to find my own; but, I believe that every turn on that path
is marked by little sign telling you which way you should go, and the only thing
you need to read them - is love.
Your Faithful Friend,
Sarah Lynn Morgan
re:
Regarding the comment that this was an "X" story:
An "X" rating would entail pornography, actually, so it's insulting to label this story as such. A movie that had dark situations would be, at most, an "R" rating. That's not necessarily a bad thing, though (R that is). A "G" movie is never going to communicate anything meaningful to people, after all. The things people really need to change or work on in the world or themselves are absolutely never "pleasant". For those of us who have *lived* through bad things at young ages and become stronger and more in touch with reality as a result it seems harsh to decide that even *reading* about unpleasant realities is "inappropriate for children". It's inappropriate for other children to even be aware of the realities that some other more unfortunate children experience? I realize most people wouldn't agree with me here, though - it's up to every parent how they shelter their children. But allowing children to perceive things that expand their view of the world may protect and strengthen them by helping them to be more prepared for those who would use and abuse them. I suppose it all depends on the purpose of including something in a story. I find that, in my own writing, I tend to integrate very dark experiences not out of a simple cathartic motive, but in order to expand the awareness of others who weren't tempered in the same way.
Classics like Frankenstein (the book, not the trashy movies), Moby Dick, Lord of the Flies, etc are good examples of that.
Oh, and I liked the McGuyver the kids were channeling :)
Incidentally, for a great documentary about the sex trade in the US watch Trafficked. Everyone should see that - it's severely disturbing, yes, but it's important because it's real. If less people avoided unpleasantness and confronted situations like that there'd be less of that sort of thing in the world.
Anyway, good chapter :)
Excellent police work, Ms. Morgan
It would be easy to see this on TV (no pun intended)...
Exciting escape on the part of the kids... good office politics with the cops, and always a pleasure to see an ass get his ass handed to him.
As I said before, very cool story!
Kaleigh
Just a little rough
Sarah, After the other chapters this one, (as advertised) is a large bit rough. Hey, I have heard all these words and seen them in print, it just feels out of place with the rest of the story. Strong feelings oh yes, no problem. Perhaps a different choice of words. (Hey, your stories always bring out the emotions in me). Hugs, Wendy Marie
Wendy Marie
Sarah Lynn, you minx!
Now you're writing a fantastic police procedural. You're amazing! Is this Boston? Will we soon be meeting Captain Heally or Spenser & Hawk. You plot and handle dialog like the best of the popular fiction writers. I'm sure you'll find a way to get them out of this but I can hardly wait to see how you do it.
So... Moving right along...
Ole
We are each exactly as God made us. God does not make mistakes!
Gender rights are the new civil rights!