I glare towards Mori, expecting his negative argument.
“This is madness. I find your obsession disturbing. But I have nothing better to do, so I am in,” he says with a grimace.
We all turn to Pakka then, awaiting his reply.
He tenses, looking rattled. “Fine! Yes... YES, fine… But what is the plan? What will we do? We don’t know where she’s gone. The local police and the Alliance investigators are already working to find her. And more importantly, we haven’t a single weapon, or armor, or… anything!”
“Actually,” Mori says, “That’s not precisely true. Do you think I would travel to an unknown planet without any?”
“Yes!” Pakka blusters. “Considering that to do otherwise would be illegal and against the Alliance Intergalactic Science Board’s rules of participation?”
Mori grins. “I have a masking trunk that works on all scanners, Pakka. Do you think me a fool? We might be scientists now, but once a Kar’Kali warrior, always a Kar’Kali warrior. I never take a mission unprepared for a fight.”
“There is no time to waste,” I say, gritting my teeth. “Now get me off this thing.”
Kiva jumps in to help Vala cut the other straps that bind me.
“That doesn’t answer the important question of where you think we’re going to go with your illegal weapon supply?”
I swing my legs over the side of the gurney and test their strength by pressing my feet onto the floor.
“I know exactly where we are going,” I announce. “We are going to find a man named Vic Williams.”
Chapter 22
ELLA
When I come to, I’m relieved to find that there’s no glove in my mouth anymore. But I guess on the list of negatives, that’s probably an indication that no one can hear me scream.
The room is dark, but I can make out the basics. It’s a bedroom. One that looks deceptively normal. There’s a hardwood floor beneath me, a basket for laundry, and a bed that’s made with a fluffy duvet cover. It certainly doesn’t seem like the kind of place you keep a kidnapped woman.
My legs are tied together at the ankles and the knees, and my wrists are tied together behind my back. I test my mobility and find that all I can do is roll around and inchworm across the floor. I could probably get up on my knees, but what would be the point? I’d just be uncomfortable.
I tense immediately when I hear voices getting closer to me. They’re yelling at one another— a man and a woman.
“What the hell are you doing here? I told you I’m done, I’m not going back there,” the woman is saying.
“Oh, that’s fine and dandy… But you owe a debt to Beck now. I was just here to drop off a visitor. You’ll be babysitting until the heat is off, then we’ll pick her up,” the man says. I hear a door opening.
“No fucking way! Get back here! I SAID I WAS DONE! I don’t owe him anything—”
“You’re done when we say you’re done,” the man replies. “Fuck it up and find out what happens.”
SLAM! The door shuts so hard the house shivers. A scream of frustration sounds from the other room, where I assume the woman speaking has been left alone. Then I hear some destructive thuds and bumps. She must be throwing things around. I perk up, realizing she’s probably my only jailer right now. An unwilling fellow woman. Maybe there’s a chance I can befriend her or overpower her… something.
My heart starts to pound. I lick my lips. “H-Hello?” I call out. “Hello? Can you hear me?”
It’s silent for a second, then footsteps approach the door where I am. I shuffle up to the door and throw myself against it to test whether its open. “My name is Ella,” I say, jiggling the knob with my shoulder, cheek laid up against the wood.
“It’s better for both of us if you shut up and I don’t talk to you,” she announces in a cold, controlled voice through the door.
“What if I have to pee?” I try, sitting back on my knees.
“There’s a bathroom attached to your room. Figure it out,” she says.
The woman’s footsteps recede away again. I flop back onto the floor. I start to cry just thinking over how little information I have to go on. I have no idea where I am, how long it’s been, or what they plan to do with me. I wish I could be strong and smart, but all I want to do is weep and moan like a baby. Let it out for five minutes, I think to myself. I deserve that much. Five minutes to cry, and then I’ll scheme.
***
KILA
“I don’t understand why we’re going to all this trouble,” Mori is saying as we make our way down the streets of a neighborhood on the outskirts of town. “She has a translator chip. Shouldn’t the authorities have tracked her location by now without our help?”
Out here there are not many alien species, so our crew draws the attention of any human we encounter on the cement lane. The sun is beginning to sink down below the tree-line, casting a golden light across the green squares of vegetation that line the road and walking areas. The dwellings we pass are oddly spaced apart— too close for luxury, too far for efficiency.
“That’s against this particular Earth area’s local laws,” Pakka tells him. “The United States prohibits GPS chip tags that show the locations of private citizens without their express permission.”
“Ridiculous,” Mori mutters. “It’s like these stupid humans want to be disorganized on purpose.”
“The chip’s still going to have a footprint,” I point out, “And we know it will have a signature specific to the tech that the research facility uses. We can assume that’s where she got hers.”
“Correct. That’s a decent point,” Mori says, tapping his chin thoughtfully. He is easily the most talented when it comes to scanning and tracking technologies. “Once we have more focused location for where she might be, scanning for the facility’s tech signature might lead us straight to her.”
“Got it,” Kiva interrupts, pointing to the home at the end of the street we have just turned onto. He is out in front, following the map on his mini tap-pad which is strapped to his wrist.
We fall into formation without needing to discuss. With a couple points of his finger, Pakka sends us into various positions. Kiva and I take the front entrance, Vala and Mori split to either side of our target, and Pakka goes wide toward the back, headed for a metal mesh fence.
I take a deep breath. Kiva glances at me furtively. When I catch him staring, he hisses, “Your eyes are black again.”
“Just don’t let me kill him,” I say. “Ella would not like that.”
“That does not assuage my concerns,” he grumbles.
When we reach the cement block in front of the door, Kiva kneels to slide a pin into the lock mechanism on the knob. It clicks in a matter of seconds, and we’re in.
There’s no point in being quiet. We barge right in, stinger guns in hand. I begin checking each room while Kiva follows, his stinger up and ready to shoot. I don’t imagine this Vic from Williams is capable of putting up a true fight, but we are taking precautions.
We come around a corner into the back of the home. He is there in a room that is half windows, facing the garden behind his dwelling.
“There you are,” I say.
Vic curses and falls out of his chair. “Shit, shit!” he yells, and launches himself at the glass door. He fiddles with the handle until he sees that Pakka is standing on the other side of the glass, arms folded over his chest.
I nod to Kiva and he keeps his weapon trained on Vic. I grab the little man by the neck and swing him around so that his back slams against the walled side of the room. He groans, and with his first gasps of breath he is making excuses.