The silhouettes of two hooded figures seemed to step right out of the cavern wall into the dimly lit tunnel.

“Shit, another cave?” the shorter of the two questioned.

Looking around at their surroundings, the taller one once noticed the tunnel walls were not natural but made with tools. Wooden supports held up a makeshift ceiling of wooden boards. The dirt walls showed the tool marks of picks and shovels that had created the underground passage and along the floor of the tunnel a pair of metals rails ran down the center of the tunnel about a foot and a half apart by the by the two by four spacers evenly spaced several feet part underneath the metal rails. In the distance they both could see the glow of a light source, “This is manmade, so there must be an exit.”

“That’s if the tunnel is still in use?” The shorter figure stated.

The taller one of the pair pointed at the metal rails, “No rust so they must still be in use or have been until recently.” Turning and walking down the tunnel, “Air smells fresher this way.”

Within a couple of minutes the two found the light source, a bare incandescent light bulb screwed into a socket that huge from wires attached to one of the upright wooden supports, the wires appeared to be strung from one support to another feeding power to the light. Looking into the gloom beyond it was impossible to see if this was the only light or if there were more. It would be almost five more minutes of walking before they began to notice another light source in the distance. Reaching the new light source, it turned out to be identical to the first, although they both could tell the air had continued to smell fresher and the slightest breeze could be felt.

Continuing on down the tunnel the two soon began to see the brighter glow of another light source. The closer they walked toward this light source, the more they could tell it was different than the light from the incandescence light bulbs that had been strung sporadically through the tunnel. It became obvious that the light up ahead was not the harsh yellowish glow of a naked incandescence bulb, but softer whiter light that did not originate within the tunnel but from above it.

Reaching the end of the tunnel the pair saw first saw the reason behind the rail system in the tunnel. A long wooden wagon with wheels that rode along the rails sat on the tracks like some homemade version of a miner’s cart. Attached to the wagon was the strangest bicycle hybrid they had ever seen. Rather than a front wheel it had two metal bars that connected it to the end of the wagon, from there it still had what could be considered a touring bicycle’s seat and handlebars, although instead of a normal bicycles rear tire it had a much larger and thicker tire that could have easily been a tire for an off road motorcycle.

Looking upward toward the source of the light, the tunnel had turned straight up. A metal extension ladder was leaning against one side of the tunnel granting access to the world above. Above that the bright luminescence of florescent lights told them the tunnel opened inside some sort of building, from the looks of the ceiling possibly a warehouse.

“I’ll go up and check it out,” The shorter of the two grabbed the ladder and went up it faster than one would imagine someone the person's small size could manage. Within moments of the small hooded figure disappearing above the top of the shaft, yells and gunfire erupted. Screams followed along with the sound of automatic gunfire joining the mayhem heard above.

The sound of gunfire would stop at times, only to begin again after another blood curdling scream was released by someone else. During many of the short breaks between the loud reports of automatic weapons, men could be heard yelling, ‘he’s over there!’ or ‘behind you!’ only to be followed by screams of pain and the continuation of gunfire. Eventually the noise from above died down, several minutes later the small hooded figure reappeared at the top of the pit.

Standing at the bottom of the pit, the taller figure looked up, “Was all that really necessary?”

“They weren’t very welcoming, downright hostile if you want to know the truth.” The smaller figure tossed a white package down, “Heads up!”

Taking a step back the one at the at the bottom watched the plastic package arc down, catching the edge of the makeshift wagon and breaking open allowing the powder it contained to explode outward in a small white cloud. “Cocaine?” The tall one looked up at the one who had tossed down the bag.

“Yeah, tons of the shit up here. Lots of cash, guns and other crap too.” The short hooded figure chuckled, “Who would have thought we’d end up in some drug smugglers warehouse! Boss they got stuff up here you got to see. It’s like a toy store for the criminally inclined!”

After climbing up the ladder the taller of the two began walked over and began inspecting a pallet that held several blocks of money the size of a bale of hay, stacked neatly and wrapped inside a clean plastic wrap. Stepping around to the opposite side of the pallet, the taller hooded figure reached over and picked up a severed arm that had been lying atop one of the bales of money tossing it off to one side. Looking over at the smaller companion while gesturing at the bales of money, “This will come in handy. See anything else we may want?”

“Figured you may want that,” A gloved hand pointed to a red Lamborghini sitting near by a large roll up door on the opposite side of the warehouse.”

“And it’s my favorite color too!” the taller figure began walking across the warehouse, careful of not stepping on any of the hundreds of brass shell casings littering the concrete floor. The red cloaked figure ran it’s hand across the hood as it walked along the side of the sports car, “We’re going to need a truck to haul everything.”

“Got it covered boss,” thumbing toward the loading dock to the side where a large trailer was sitting, its rear doors closed.

“You going to drive it?”

“There were a few that had the intelligence not to attack me. I threw them in the trailer, the old one has to be the driver. He’s too old to be a worker and not dressed like a boss.”

Meeting the boss at the doors of the truck’s long trailer, the short hooded one unlatched the door and swung in open. Inside were four men sitting on the floor of the trailer, the three younger ones appeared to be Mexican or Mexican descent? One of the younger men scurried further back into the trailer away from the two hooded figures, staring at the shorter of the two while gasping out the word, “Diablo.”

Looking at the four men, two of them not much more than boys, “Vete a casa con tus familias. Conviértete en un buen hombre o mi pequeño demonio vendrá por ti,” The tall hooded one spoke to men then turned to his partner, “Make sure they take nothing with them.”

Watching the three that looked Mexican hesitantly stand, the shorter hooded waved for them to exit the trailer, “ven, date prisa ya!”

Having no idea what the figure had said the older man spoke, “Look, none of us have seen your faces, we can’t tell anyone anything. Hell, I know less than anyone. I’m just a damn truck driver! I had no idea what they hired me to haul and once I saw what it was I knew if I tried to back out they’d kill me for sure! I’d pulled a rabbit on them a while ago, but they always had one of their damn goons riding shotgun and you can guess who he had the shotgun pointed at.”

“Then you would be in the market for a new employer for your truck and yourself,” The tall one in the red cloak questioned.

“Look, I don’t want to sound ungrateful, I mean you guys probably saved my bacon and all, but you can understand, this was one hell of a bad situation. Hell far as I know you sent your buddy there to kill those kids. Last thing I want to do is make a deal with the devil.” The driver stated while trying to get a glimpse of the face hidden within the darkness of the floor length red Cloak concealing all details of the person standing before him.

“Actually I sent them home,” The tall hooded figure motioned for him to get up and follow, “Come I’ll prove this is what has been done.”

Standing up, he cautiously walked over to the cloaked figure, noticing immediately that the person hidden under the cloak was much shorter than he first thought, knowing he was six foot three he guessed this person could be more than five foot five, five foot six at the most. Following the cloaked figure out of the trailer across the warehouse to the side of the pit that led into the secret tunnel where the shorter figure stood beside a pile of clothing.

Both newcomers leaned over to see one man standing at the bottom of the metal ladder while the other climbed down, all three naked as they day they were born. The red cloaked figure looked over to the other, “You took their clothes?”

“You said to make sure they took nothing with them.”

“Just who the hell are your two?” The driver questioned. “You cops or some rival gang?”

“Neither,” the one he had begun to think of as Red, due to the cloak, answered.

Looking over at the shorter of the two, trying to figure out why the two were dressed so radically different and working together like they were. This one wore baggy black military fatigues with a black zippered hoodie, also very baggy disguising the person’s appearance. “You some kind of feds then, DEA? ATF?”

Everyone remained silent for several long minutes until Red spoke, “If it makes you feel better, I can tell you that we are the good guys.”

Living on the road as long as he had, Don had heard the stories of different black ops law enforcement groups. Groups so secret they are said to answer directly to the White House. Could these two be part of one of those groups? ‘And they offered me a job?’ Don thought how working for the government would set him for life. Even if they parted ways later on, he would be front of the line for some other government driving job.

Don knew he’d be a fool not to accept the offer to drive for them, but he was hesitant. What guarantee did he have they were not as bad or worse than the drug runners? Looking back at the one he thought was their leader, “So about this job?”

“You would provide transport for the two of us,” Red stated. “Where we want, when we want.”

“You don’t need my rig just for the two of you.”

“There would be other things that your trailer would be appropriate for holding.”

“I won’t work for someone that hides under a hood all the time.” Don watched the one in red give the other a slight nod then both reached up to the sides of the hoods that hid their faces.

The shorter of the two was quicker at pulling the hood back, exposing the face of a beautiful young Asian woman with dark brown hair pulled back into what he thought was a single braid, although the hooded jacket made it impossible to truly tell. She looked so young, ‘too young’ Jake thought to himself, ‘She’s got to be a damn teenager!’ But then he remembered what he has seen this girl do not even a quarter of an hour ago, wading through gunfire with some kind of wide blades in her hands that reminded him of some kind of cross between an Alaskan Ulu and those Oriental hand fans. How could anyone so small and so innocent looking be capable of what he had seen her do?

Looking over as the other one pulled back the hood of the red cloak, Don’s mind lost all train of thought about the Asian woman. If Don hadn’t known it was impossible, he would have sworn he was now staring into the face of an angel. Her raven black hair seemed to shine with a radiance that made it look like her whole head was surrounded in an angelic glow. Her eyes, framed by dark lush lashes, appeared almost golden in the bright florescent lighting of the warehouse.

Realizing he was staring Don looked down at the top rungs of the ladder that protruded from the pit in the floor. “Sorry, I, I wasn’t expecting you two to be so young.”

“We’re a lot older than we look,” extending a hand out from her cloak, “I’m Lucea Morningstar, but please call me Lucy.” Nodding her head in the direction of the Asian girl, “And this is my friend Shiki.”

“I’m Don, Don Chapdelanie,” Don stated as he took her hand. “Your driver if you still want me Miss Morningstar?”