Hunter and Jade -- Lessons Learned (Part 1)

*** 1 HUNTER ***

I don’t think it’s inaccurate to say the whole thing was my fault. Me and Jade were on the warpath (I know, it’s Jade and I, but respectfully... suck it). Anyway, we were out for vengeance. A few weeks ago, I just snapped. I’d had enough. Tonight was supposed to be another retaliation against the double-standards that exist between men and women, but somehow, I ended up in the trunk of this car.

It started inside the bar, about... an hour or so ago. Another creepy creeper wearing tight pants and chest hair licked his eyebrows and gave a half-assed grin with half-mast eyes, no doubt hoping to scratch “three-way with green-eyed twins” off his fucket list. Not gonna happen, Shitbreath.

This may be a little off-topic, but maybe not... why do (Jade and I) always have to be so “careful” about how we tell some disgusting serial-rapist-wannabe pig we’re not gonna have a naked pillow fight later on over who gets to play with his sweaty junk first? If some gay dude walked up to him and just asked him for his digits, he’d probably commit a hate crime there and then, but if this creeper asks me if I want a mustache ride, I have to be careful not to offend him, so he doesn’t become some sort of pride-bent revenge stalker with a chip on his shoulder. Well, I wasn’t playing nicey-nicey anymore.

For a second, I thought there was something familiar about him, but before I could bring myself to a point where I actually might give a shit, this bag of dicks walks up, with his slicked back pompadour and gold chain, and opens with, “Are you sure you girls are old enough to be in here?”

“Are you serious right now?! How would you like it if a grown man walked up to you and said, ‘You kinda look like a teenager’? Oh, and, ‘But that’s okay because I’m into people who look like teenagers. Can I buy you a beer?’”

“Hey, look...”

“No! I’ve heard a lot of creepy come-ons over the years, but this one...” Jade put her hand on my shoulder, “No, I’m not letting this go! This fucking ass hound, child-molester-wannabe wants to play sandwich with a couple of middle schoolers or... or... how old, exactly do you think we are?! How sick and demented are your freaky cho-mo fantasies, ya perv?!”

Hell yeah! That felt great! He just put up his hands and walked away like a good little bitch. But I guess that’s where it all started. They don’t want you to make a scene, but they just can’t leave it alone. We closed the place down and made the mistake of thinking nothing would come of it. When we stepped into the parking lot, there was Captain Shitbreath, leaning up against a post right outside the door.

We walked past like he wasn’t even there, but it didn’t take more than a few seconds to realize he was walking up behind us. I had the car keys in my hand. “You know it might be a good idea to call an Uber after a night of drinking.”

I spun around, “And I suppose you just happen to drive for Uber, right? You’re like... uber-successful, huh?”

“I think I’d better walk you girls to your car, just to keep things civil. It can be dangerous out here at night.”

“You know what? No! I’m not doing this! I’m not living my life in fear anymore. Look at me! Realize this, Shitbreath: you could be hammered beyond recognition tonight, and stagger all the way home wearing nothing but your saggy underwear, your gold chain, and one sock, and you would still be able to play Death Craze XII tomorrow afternoon in your mother’s basement, or wherever you finally come to. Me, on the other hand, I have to be on high alert, every fucking night, with a canaster of mace and an escape route plan, just walking out to my car, so I don’t end up stabbed, raped, and stuffed in a dumpster at the end of the night!”

“Look...”

“No! You look! We live in two different worlds, and you don’t even realize it! I’ve been looking over my shoulder since I was able to fill out an A cup, and I’m tired of having to find new ways of telling some creepy-ass sex addict to politely fuck off when he asks me if I’ve ever held a baby bird in my hand. So, kindly, I ask—with a subtle curtsey and a sweet smile on my face—please, go fuck yourself, not just once, but twice—once for me, and once for my twin sister, who’s holding a gun to the back of your head... just to keep things civil.”

Just for effect, Jade pulled the hammer on her .22 snub nose. That got his attention. He wanted to say something, but I guess he couldn’t find the words. I got in his face—as much as I could, being a foot shorter than him (again, suck it). “Were you gonna say something? Hmm?”

He looked up, behind me, toward the street. His eyes said it before his mouth did.

“Oh shit. You two go back inside. Now!”

I heard a car rolling into the parking lot. The headlights made their way to us and stopped behind me. Jade had slipped the revolver back into her purse and stepped to one side. I figured it was probably a cop car. We’re not afraid of cops. I smiled smugly in his face and turned around innocently. The doors opened. Five men stepped out, three walked toward us—I couldn’t see their faces until they stepped through the headlights. They obviously weren’t cops, but they were all carrying guns—all of them except the shorter, portly one in front.

A Slavic accent asked, “Who are your young friends, Mr. Bennet?”.

“They’re with me,” Shitbreath answered as they raised their guns at us, “I’m sorry; I should have told you before.”

I don't know what the hell this prick was talking about, but I’m glad he kept talking, because if there was only one hole in my body about to let something out, it sure as hell wasn’t my mouth. In fact, I think this is probably as good a time as any to let you know that I get a little gassy when I get scared. I like to be the one leading the conversation, because if things get uncomfortable, things can get really... uncomfortable.

“Allow me to introduce... Hunter and Jade. They’re my bodyguards.”

“They’re children...” Slav commented.

“They’ve always looked young for their age. You saw them in the club—did you feel threatened by them? Any of you? That’s just the thing—by the time you realize they’re a threat, your nuts are already falling out of your pant cuff and onto your shoe.”

Holy shit, what the hell’s going on? It wasn’t particularly cold out that night, but I felt chills run down my arms and legs. I had to consciously keep my knees from shaking. Who were these men? Who was this guy? How the hell does he know our names? And...

“How can you tell them apart?” Mr. Tall-dark-and-Slavic wondered as well, looking over each of us thoroughly. Good thing I was just on a rant. I looked hostile, but inside I was scared shitless, and this guy looked like someone who could smell fear.

“I raised them as adolescents, from the time they turned fourteen.”

I hate being separated from my sister. We always reach for each other when things get scary, and this guy, Mr. Bennet, was standing between us, making me hate him even more. As much as I hated him, he was the closest thing we had to an ally. He moved his hand behind my back as he spoke, and I felt him slip something into my belt. It felt like a knife. My mind couldn’t imagine anything else that might feel like that—a six or seven-inch knife. I stood up straight. What the hell did he expect me to do with that?

“Hunter, here, is the inquisitive one. She likes to get to know people—it helps her decide which way to kill them. If she likes you, you won’t see it coming. But, if she hates you, you’ll likely die slowly, without your genitals or your eyes.”

“I like her very much already,” Slav said.

“And Jade—you can tell by her eyes. I’m not sure she actually has a conscience. She once stabbed a man to death right in front of his wife and children. We’ve made a lot of progress since then, though, haven’t we, Jade?”

“Oh, I like her even more.”

“They’re extremely loyal to me—I saved them from Randolph—but be careful... being twins, even more so, they’re loyal to each other.”

“Mmm... Randolph. No wonder. He was a monster. Don’t worry, Milas,” he said to us, “If I ever have to kill one of you, I will kill the other as well... for mercy.”

“You’re very kind,” I heard myself say. The severity of the situation was becoming clearer by the second. I didn’t have a clue what was going on, but we were caught in a life-or-death roll playing game, and breaking character meant breaking bones, or worse. I just wish I had more fire power in my handbag. Judging from the size of these guys, my .22 Beretta would only piss them off. Mental note, aim for the neck and eyes.

“Why have you come back, Draszo, did you forget something?”

“Yes, William, I forgot that I do not trust you. I decided to go ahead with the meeting, and Mr. Dvorak agrees. He wishes to meet with you.”

“That’s fine, Draszo, the hotel is…

“He wishes to meet with you now.”

“Now, like… now?”

“Indeed, yes. You will join us. Your men… forgive me… the young ladies can follow us in your car.”

“I don’t think so,” my sister said confidently, rattling my nerves. She was playing her part.

“Not gonna happen,” I added. My mouth and throat were so dry from fear, I wasn’t sure sound would come out of my mouth.

Draszo smiled, “Of course not… you like him, don’t you?” he asked Jade.

“Yeah,” she said without a hint of sincerity, “He’s fucking dreamy.”

Draszo turned around, thinking. He raised a finger, “We could just kill them…” his men raised their guns, pointing them at our favorite faces. I’m not too proud to admit, I let out a little fart—barely even audible, probably no one even heard it, but it still counts—I was officially terrified. I actually felt my ass cheeks squeeze up tight to keep from shitting myself. He turned to us, clearly curious to see Bennet’s reaction.

I heard Jade exaggerate a big yawn. Way to go, Jade! I was desperately concerned for my underwear, but she was killing it. Having no clue what to do or say, I reached up to Bennet and whispered in his ear, “I don’t know what’s going on, but we’re with you.”

“I think that would be fine,” he nodded, smiling down at me.

Draszo, like all men, hates when girls deliberately tell secrets in front of them. It’s a button so easy to push, I sometimes forget about it. “What would be fine?!” he blurted.

Bennet looked at him. He gestured to one of his men, “She thinks the little one is cute. She’d like to kill him last.”

A tight smirk froze on Draszo’s face. His eyes gave nothing away. Suddenly, he burst into laughter. Bennet and the Slav’s men followed suit.

“Oh! Now I like this one better!” he blubbered jovially. “Okay. Okay. I have another idea—final offer--I will take one of them with me; you will follow me with the other. Simple solution, no?”

I hated everything that was being said, but at this point, nobody said anything. I’m pretty sure it was even worse than when people were talking.

The portly Slav broke the silence, “I’m trying to be flexible. I was expecting only you.”

“You know what? Screw it,” Bennet said. “I trust you, Draszo. You’re obviously serious, and that means Dvorak is serious. Ladies, I’m going to go with them. You two go back to Philly and tell Finch I’ll be back in two days.”

Draszo cut in, “I... I’m sorry. Sometimes my English is not very good. Perhaps ‘final offer’ does not mean what I think it means. They come with us... dead or alive.” He looked to his side, “Am I saying that right? Dead or alive?”

One of his henchmen played along—then again, he might have been stupid enough to take him seriously, “I think that is correct, yes. Dead or live.”

“Alright,” Jade said, taking a step forward, “I’ll go with them, you follow.”

“No!” I barked instinctively, locking my eyes on her.

“No,” Draszo repeated, “This one will come with us.”

I looked over and found his eyes locked on me. “Okay,” I said, as confidently as I could under the circumstances. Meanwhile... Earth to Bennet... this guy was no help.

He went on, “It is a short ride to the airport, then we are all together as one again. The twins... they will not separate... she will follow,” he nodded. He knew he was right.

Bennet was clearly out of ideas. We were supposed to be badass bodyguards, and he was clearly supposed to be some badass criminal... or something. If he acted like we were helpless hostages, they’d sense his weakness... and ours. If that happened, we might all end up stuffed into a dumpster.

“Yeah, no problem,” I said.

“Good, it is settled. Stay close behind.” He held out his hand as if I needed instructions on how to find the car directly behind him with the headlights shining in our faces. “Phone, weapons,” he said simply.

I looked at Bennet, not knowing for sure what I was supposed to do. He held out his hand and smiled, “He thinks you’re less dangerous without any weapons. I’ll hold onto them.”

This is bullshit. I just agreed to get into a car with five Eastern European mobster-looking pricks for a ride to an international airport, and now I’m giving my phone and my gun to a completely different prick who just stalked me and Jade in a parking lot. With no other options, I opened my handbag and reluctantly pulled out the Beretta and Iphone. I’m not sure which one hurt worse. Bennet took my phone and stuffed it in his pocket, then took my Berreta and tucked into his belt behind him.

“Knife,” Bennet said, holding his hand out again. I reached back and pulled out the knife (it was a knife) which he’d planted on me.

“Beautiful,” the Slav gushed. I looked at him as if he’d just barged in on a sacred Hindu religious ceremony eating a roast beef sandwich. “The... the knife... it’s beautiful,” he stuttered.

“Right...” I thought, “Sure thing, Double-stuff.” I handed the blade to Bennet and walked toward the car. “Just one thing,” I stopped, “Which airport is it? I’ve had a bit to drink and a lot to eat so, if we’re going any further than Ronald Reagan, you’re gonna wanna wait for me to run back inside for a minute.”

“Are you kidding me?”

I gave him a tight-lipped smile that said, no... I’m not kidding. His eyes told me he’d never experienced this before. He wasn’t sure what to do.

I pushed him, “Look... no, it’s cool. It’s probably just gonna be gas. If you can live with it, I can live with it.”

He still needed a few seconds to let the reality of it soak in, then he spoke, “This is so unprofessional. Go with her!” he barked at the henchman nearest him.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know there was going to be a long ride in a car full of people.”

“Just go; and make it quick. You’re ruining the whole... the whole image I had. Go!”

Girl farts—they're cooties for grown-ups. A car full of sweaty men can drive halfway across the country, farting and belching on each other the whole way, without even cracking a window, but a girl fart is some sick, unholy thing that no one even wants to know about.

“For the record,” Jade reminded, “I volunteered.”

He mumbled and tossed his arms about, “I know, I know. I should have... it was... I just thought... it’s nothing... it’s stupid...”

Yeah... so anyway, “henchman number one” I guess (I never got his name), headed with me back into the bar for a quick exorcism of whatever demons were fighting for space inside my bowels. I doubt I set any new records for the place, but I’ll bet, you know, adjusting for my weight class, I was probably a strong contender for the belt. I was out of the stall in two minutes... maybe three... or four. I’ll spare you the details.

I told henchman number one, “Hey, when we go back outside, you should pretend to hurl in the trash can, like you just witnessed the most vile thing you’ve ever seen.”

“That’d be hilarious,” he laughed.

“Hell yes, do it. I bet you won’t though. Your guys are all serious and shit.”

“No, I’ll do it.”

I have a bad habit of joking around too much when I get nervous, but I could use a friend on the inside, and this guy seemed like he was a prankster.

*** 2  JADE ***

Ten minutes ago, I thought we were going to be shot and stuffed into the trunk of some fat guy's mafia Cadillac car, along with this pervert who tried to ambush us outside of a bar in Alexandria. In classic Hunter form, however, my sister just willfully crawled inside the trunk after embarrassing the mob guy and every one of his bodyguard clones, and now they’re all standing around trying to figure out how they should apologize.

The pervert, Bennet, may have saved our lives, but the jury’s still out on that. He tried to pick us up an hour ago inside the bar, but she sent him packing. The guy obviously didn’t take it lightly—getting his pee-pee stepped on by some chick—as if it was the first time that ever happened—so he waited outside for us and tried to talk his way into something better than going home alone. He may have been threatening us; or he may have been just offering us a ride; who knows? But in classic Hunter style, he ended up with a gun in the back of his head, trying to figure out how he should apologize.

Anyway, this mob guy—Draszo is his name—he rolled up right as Bennet was thanking God he peed before leaving the bar. I didn’t feel like putting on a show, so I put the gun away when the audience showed up. Bennet told Draszo the three of us were together—that Hunter and I were his bodyguards. I’m not sure we would have walked out of there alive if he hadn’t said that. Doesn’t matter now; it’s been said. Now we have to go along with it or there won’t be any question about us walking out alive. This Draszo guy means business, but he has no idea how to handle Hunter. To date, no man she’s met has had any idea, so I’m not holding it against him.

The problem is, Hunter's got a weak stomach—always has. Since we were kids, every time a cute boy tried to talk to her, or our dad laid into her, she’d end up running for the bathroom three minutes into the conversation. She’d always joke about it, and I’d always go along... softening the blow, because the existence of the issue was worse than the gas and nausea. We even had names for the different sounds she made—whether it was her stomach, throat, or butt—the Low Rumbler, the Crescendo, the Wheezer, the Triple-Decker... you never knew what was coming next. We’d always end up laughing hysterically. If you’ve ever tried to hold back gas while laughing hysterically, you already know it’s a fool’s errand—a gaseous cacophony that would make anyone forget all about a disappointed daddy or some cute boy.

Draszo had intended to take Bennet with him somewhere, and with the two of us present, there was a logistics problem. There were five of them, plus a driver, so even Bennet, alone, would have been a tight squeeze. Maybe one of their guys was going to drive Bennet’s car, who knows? But with two low-profile, highly trained bodyguards added to the mix, I doubted Draszo would like the “us-them” ratio if three of them had to take a different vehicle to make room for us. He suggested they could just kill us to alleviate the problem. His men aimed their guns at me and Hunter, which triggered a High Squeaker escaping from her skirt. I yawned to take all the attention away from her. If she didn’t regain her composure, things were going to get weird.

Bennet tried to send us home, but Draszo decided to keep one of us as a souvenir travel companion instead. I can only imagine Hunter uncontrollably breaking wind in a car full of gangsters, laughing her ass off, while trying to perpetrate a fearless killing machine disguised as a sorority pledge. It was a now-or-never situation. I volunteered for travel companion duty. Unfortunately, Draszo opted to go against my plan. Your funeral, buddy.

So, Hunter gets Draszo into this awkward back-and-forth about how she needs to take a shit before they make the trip to Reagan International or they’re gonna be hanging out the windows the whole way there. You shoulda seen the looks on these guy’s faces—hardened criminals, killers some of them, and who knows what else—all of them looked like melted candle wax. One of them goes with her to the restroom on Draszo’s orders, and you can tell the rest are all holding back because of me. Like, if I suddenly went inside, they’d just break out with all kinds of smug bullshit and faces and sounds, like aristocrats disapproving of her lack of class.

Draszo looks around at his guys, “Anybody else? You know... since we’re waiting? Anybody need a snack? I think I saw a Chipotle on the way.”

Time practically stood still. Hunter and I were used to putting ourselves in dangerous situations, but we always had the upper hand. We had the element of surprise, as she liked to say. We were the dangerous ones. This was different, and I was alone. The only thing in my head was, what would a real bodyguard do? I only made eye contact with them occasionally, and I made sure to put on a face that told each of them I was thinking about how to properly season his heart before eating it over a barbeque.

The next four times the bar’s door opened, it was someone staggering out and fumbling with their keys. Draszo’s probably a relatively decent guy, but his patience was wearing thin. He watched each drunken patron stumble by with more disgust than the last. Everyone was on edge. I tried to look the part, but inside I was drowning. They all thought this was the worst of it, but I knew better. After twenty years of experience, I was keenly aware of Hunter’s complete inability to read a room.

The stakes were higher this time—different circumstances—maybe she’d keep it under control just this once. The next guy through the door is Draszo’s guy—the one who went to learn about the variety of noises Hunter can produce in a toilet stall. He runs for the trash can just outside the door and buries his head in it for full-on technicolor yawn. Hunter walks out behind him with her hands in the air like some billionaire heiress about to go on a shopping spree.

“Ready!” she proclaims proudly.

Here we go again. I took the opportunity to unpack my little .22 shooter while she had their attention. Anything could happen once she gets going. Ugh... why can’t we ever just have a normal night out of under-age drinking?

“We can go now?!” Slav bellowed, “You don’t need to change a tampon or something?”

“Hey!” I pointed at him sternly, “Now you’re just being disrespectful.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Let’s just go.” He mumbled something under his breath that sounded like, “This is bullshit.”

*** 3 HUNTER ***

Nervous hardly expressed how uncomfortable I was, but as long as I had their attention... “This is a lot of people for one car,” I joked, “Maybe I should sit on somebody’s lap.”

Wait, what? I could feel the tension. Their faces. Hell no, this ain't happening! It’s time for a tantrum!

I marched to the near side of the car and looked at the henchmen on the other side, “Seriously?! Five minutes ago, all you saw was two tits and a movable mouth and that was good enough for you; now you’re all worried about catching some sort of disease or something! You men are always belching and farting, and you scratch your balls every two minutes—no problem! High five! Shake my hand, hold my beer, have a bite of my sandwich, ugh, smell my finger, bruh! But a girl walks out of a bar into a parking lot full of ball-scratching men, and just because I, too, have bodily functions, like every other human, suddenly I’m a fucking leper!” I picked some other guys to yell at, “Alright, can we all just... right here, right now, just acknowledge that women do, on occasion, have to take a shit every now and then?” I asked pseudo-rhetorically, “Yeah? No? Nothing?”

Nobody had the balls to say anything. I looked over at Bennet. Bennet looked back and shrugged. I marched over to him and took my little gun out of his waistline behind him. I put out my hand. “Knife!” He obediently gave his knife back to me. I held it up in front of Draszo in the light, mocking his drooling accent, “Uuuh. ‘Beautiful...’” He looked at Bennet. Bennet shrugged again.

I watched the brief exchange and shook my head. “Fuck it. Let’s just go.” I pointed at them, “Fuck you and fuck you. Let’s go.” I walked to the driver’s window and knocked on the tint with the blade, “Hey!” I knocked again. “Pop the trunk.” Whoever was inside heard me. I heard the deck lid’s hollow click. I looked at the men around the car as I walked to the rear, “You guys are dicks. Fuck you too.” I pointed to the poor schmuck who went with me to the shitter, “Not you. You’re cool. The rest of you can suck it.” I opened the trunk, climbed in, and shut it.

It felt like a good performance. I took a deep breath. Hopefully they bought it. Over-the-top is really the only way to go. I was happy to make it to the trunk--it was the only place where Jade might have some reason to believe I was actually safe during the drive.

I still didn’t know what was going on with this whole Bennet-Draszo thing, but... Shit! I forgot to get my phone! Normally, I’d send dad a text if things got this out of hand, but now... I was just stuck in a trunk. What the hell did I get us into this time? More importantly, how the hell am I gonna get us out of it?

*** 4 JADE ***

After Hunter shut herself in the trunk, Draszo was dumbfounded and embarrassed. He looked at me for something... anything that would point him in some direction rather than just standing there.

I didn't bat an eye, “Not the first time it’s happened.”

“That Randolph!” he cursed, “A monster!”

Bennet tried one more time, now that the circumstances seemed different, “Let’s just get them out of here, Draszo. You and I can go meet with Dvorak. We don’t need... all of this muddying the water.

“You work with these girls?”

“Yes, as I said, I trained them. I’ve worked with them. I trust them.”

“She is unstable.”

“No, she’s fine... she’s actually the more stable one. Here...” he walked up and tapped on the driver’s window, “Open the trunk.”

Everyone turned when we heard the trunk latch pop. It lifted a few inches and slammed shut from inside.

Draszo turned back to Bennet, “She is the stable one?! What happens with...” he gestured toward me.

“Yeah, just... just don’t piss her off. Look, I tell them to leave, they’ll leave. It’s just... it’s not a good idea to separate them. They’ve been through a lot, and they’re all they have. Let’s send them back to Philly, and you and I will go talk to Dvorak, okay?”

He thought for a second, “No, they come with us. She stays in the trunk. That one stays with you. Let’s go now, come on.”

Draszo walked around to the passenger door. Bennet started walking toward his car. I followed closely but stopped beside them. “Hey!”

“Shit. What?” Draszo sighed.

“She gets out of the car first.”

“What did you say?” Draszo asked, annoyed.

“Pay attention,” I addressed them all, “There are seven tarsal bones in the human foot—basically comprising your ankle. The slightest fracture in any one of them will hobble you for weeks—just a fracture. When we stop, I’m going to put a .38 hollow point in every foot that hits the ground before hers. Capiche?” They tested me with their eyes. “She gets out first,” I repeated, staring them all down.

“Nothing will happen to your sister. You have my word,” Draszo committed. He was afraid of me. That’s all I wanted.

Bennet gently put his arm around my shoulder. “Let’s go.”

I walked with him to his car. We moved quickly as he led me along. “It’s the gray Camry,” he said as he let me walk without his escort. I can’t believe she talked me into wearing a skirt. We’re separated into two different cars, with a bunch of men we don’t know; she’s in a trunk, and I’m practically naked. I really hate skirts.

Bennet unlocked the doors. We got in and he started talking. “You don’t remember me. I’m a friend of your dad’s, Detective Kerry.”

“Wait, Barry Kerry?!”

“That’s me.”

“I remember you! You were at our birthday party.” It was coming back to me, “That’s why you said you knew us since we were fourteen. Dammit, I didn’t catch on.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. Listen, this guy, Draszo, isn’t a bad guy… I mean, yeah, he’s a bad guy—he’s a very bad guy—but he’s not going to hurt her. He just puts meetings together.”

“Yeah, okay. Very bad guy; not going to hurt her. Got it.”

“No, seriously, that was a smart move getting in the trunk. As long as she’s in there, and we don’t rear-end them, she’s okay.”

I put together a text to Hunter, including the fact that Bennet was a cop friend of dad’s. I know her. Even though she was stuck in the trunk of a car, she was probably more worried about me. A few seconds later, her phone went off in Barry’s pocket. We just looked at each other. There was no way to get a message to her explaining who Bennet was, and by the time we stopped, we wouldn’t be unable to talk about it in front of them.

“Dammit! What the hell were you two doing in that bar? You’re only, what, eighteen... nineteen?”

“Twenty… and we only drink Coke… or whatever that crap it is they serve on tap that’s supposed to look like Coke.”

“Wow, doesn’t seem like that long ago. So, why the bar? I know you didn’t go there to drink six-dollar mystery cola.”

“It’s Hunter. She’s on this sexual equality kick. She gets all dolled up and goes out to different places—places where guys are likely to behave like assholes—like bars, frat parties, casinos, churches… anywhere where guys try to hit on her, then she waits for guys with the sleaziest pick-up lines and goes off on them just to prove a point.”

“Okay, what’s the point?”

“That women shouldn’t have to live in fear when they leave their house; always worry about where they park their car at a grocery store or a gym or a mall so they don’t get mugged on the way back; always carry pepper spray or a weapon when they go jogging...”

“Okay, I get it. So I walked up looking like a Serbian child sex slave trafficker, and she thought I was trying to pick you up.”

“Pretty much.”

“And then if someone approaches you outside, you teach them a lesson about equality by showing them what fear feels like.”

“Pretty much.”

“Wow.” He nodded slowly, “So, do I need to explain to her the hundreds of reasons why this is stupid and dangerous?”

“I wouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you didn’t learn the lesson.”

“Okay, what am I not understanding?”

“We calculated it out. What we’re doing is exactly one percent more dangerous than if we didn’t do it. That’s the point. That’s what you don’t understand.”

“Jade, I’m a cop. I’ve seen the worst of humanity. Ive seen what people are capable of doing to each other. I’ve seen shit you will never see—shit you don’t want to even know about… so I get it.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t get it. You have no idea. You’ve seen all that shit, but you’ve never lived in fear of it. When you go outside, and you see another guy, and he sees you, neither of you really knows what the other is capable of, but at some… primal level, you know that you’re both essentially on a level playing field. The other guy might be a mugger or a murderer or a pastor or a priest—you don’t know—but it doesn’t matter, because he’s not going to fuck with you, because you might be even worse. He knows he might get his ass kicked, and nobody wants to get their ass kicked. But when a woman leaves her house, unless the other person she sees is another woman, she is not on a level playing field. She is in a potentially dangerous situation. She isn’t worried about getting her ass kicked, she’s worried about being raped and murdered. She needs to be alert, she needs to have a weapon, she needs to have her car keys ready, she needs to be aware of her surroundings… and if she dares to go into a club, or a party, or goes alone into a parking lot at night—places you’ve walked into a thousand times without a care in the world—you can bet, some fucking alpha male is going to tell her she shouldn’t have put herself into such a dangerous situation. So, do yourself a favor, and do not try to explain to her, how dangerous this world is, when you don’t even live in it. Trust me, she will not take it well.”

He just sat there, absorbing hopefully. Maybe some of it got in.. maybe not. Either way, it felt good to get it out.

“So who’s this Dvorak guy we’re going to meet?”

“He’s a Serbian child sex slave trader.”

“Seriously?”

“Yup. You think I don’t understand, but like I said, I’m a cop. I know a little something about putting myself in a dangerous situation, and not just to prove a point. I’d rather not do it, but these are really bad people. So, yeah, I’m a little scared, but I do it anyway.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, the smug son of a bitch.

“Typical alpha male… welcome to every day of every woman’s life.”

The car got a little quiet after that.

“Thank you... for trying to get us out of there,” I said, “I know you tried.”

“Yeah, it didn’t work... and thank you for going along with it. They would have killed me.”

“They probably would have killed all of us.”

Quiet again.

“Should we call my dad?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve been asking myself that since before we got in the car. The problem with cops and criminals is, they don’t usually get along well. Dvorak’s kind of an animal, and if we invite the cops to the party, there’s probably going to be a shootout. I don’t think your dad would be happy to have his daughters involved in that. It’s your call though, really. You’re an adult. I can’t stop you.”

“No, I understand. I’m afraid of him too.”

He smiled.

“.38 hollow point, huh?” he asked.

“Yeah, why not?”

Daingerfield Island, which is bullshit because it’s not even an island, was coming up on the right, on the east—dad's trying to get us to communicate with directions rather than left/right--on our way to Reagan International. A black SUV came up and passed us on the left. We didn’t think much of it until they slowed down next to the Cadillac we were following and started shooting out the windows. At least three guns fired multiple rounds into the glass, probably killing more than a few passengers and the driver. The SUV slammed into the side of the car, sending it off toward Daingerfield Island.

Barry slammed on the brakes and pulled to the right, well short of where the Caddy and the SUV went off the road. The Caddy sailed down a hill through a bunch of small trees and bushes doing at least sixty-five. The SUV backed up and stopped where the Caddy disappeared down the hill. Six heavily armed men jumped out and ran down into the brush. Barry turned off his headlights, not wanting to become a target. As far as the gunmen knew, we were just bystanders.

“We have to do something!” I screamed at Barry.

“We’re severely outgunned. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know! Something!”

“Alright, get in back. I’m going to go out your door. When I’m out, you get in the driver’s seat. Just climb over. Do not get out of the car.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. Something.”

“That’s your plan?” I asked him.

“What’s your plan?”

“You go in the bushes right there. I'm gonna get out and start shooting at them. When they come back up, you go down and get Hunter. I’ll hide”

“Where are you gonna hide? They’ve got machine guns! You’re gonna hide behind some plants? That’s not a plan!”

“Fine! Just get out and do what you’re gonna do!”

*** 5 HUNTER ***

I can tell you this much: That is the last time I lock myself in a trunk! Everything was fine at first, but then the shit hit the fan in an epic way. No, more like... a cataclysmic way. First there are gunshots, and I’m not talking about regular, big ass .44 Magnum and .50 cal Desert Eagle type guns—I mean like, fully automatic machine gun type guns—and they’re clearly hitting the car I was riding in! I heard windows breaking and men shouting and the car started swerving. I scooched back as far as I could to the very back end of the car, then something rammed us and the car went hard right. I bounced all around like dice in a cup, then the car just dropped like we were going straight downhill. I heard weeds and bushes and stuff scraping the bottom of the car, then it spun sideways and slammed into something. Thankfully, it hit on the side of the car where my feet were, because if it had gone the other way, I would have jammed my head down in between my shoulders! The good news... the trunk lid flew open.

Somehow, we’d ended up in a jungle. The car had smacked into a post. There was muddy water splashed everywhere. I crawled out onto a mildly damaged wood-plank pedestrian bridge that seemed to parallel the road we were on. I checked myself for damage. My head hurt from bouncing around in the trunk, and I scraped my leg climbing onto the bridge, but other than that, I was still in good shape.

I heard crunching and grunting coming from behind me. I thought maybe Jade and Bennet were coming to see what was left of us. Machine guns erupted. I bolted up the bridge as fast as I could, away from the rat-tat-tat of bullets peppering the car. I got to the end of the bridge, where wood planks turned into an asphalt bicycle path. The road was to my right; the tiny jungle now behind me. I started for the road. To my right, I saw Bennet dive into the same area where the machine guns had been tearing apart Draszo’s car. I took it as a sign that maybe being out in the open was a bad idea. I jumped back toward the brush as well.

Six heavily armed guys ran out of the thick brush right about where Bennet had disappeared. They all piled into the back of an SUV and it took off through the grass. I ran toward a little gray sedan when I saw Bennet reappear. Jade had to be with him. The taillights on the SUV blazed a trail in the night. It veered quickly to the right, away from the road, and barreled right back into the swampy brush.

“Bennet!” I yelled as I ran up to the car.

He looked toward me, “What are you doing? They left! Stay there! I’m going to see if I can find Hunter!” He stepped into the brush again.

“I’m Hunter!”

He stepped back out of the brush and looked again. “Hunter? Oh, thank God! Are you hurt?!”

“Where’s Jade?” I asked.

“In the car,” he gestured.

“Jade! I’m okay!” I yelled at the car as I approached, but she didn’t answer. I opened the back door and saw no one. “She’s not in here, Bennet! Where is she?!”

“Jade!” he called into the brush.

“Shit! Jade!” I cried. I saw something lying on the grass ahead of us. I ran like crazy to get to her. “Jade!”

I skidded to a halt when I got close. It wasn’t Jade. It was a man, lying unconscious.

“Is she okay?” Bennet asked as he ran up beside me. He seemed to have the same lack of closure I experienced. “Stay back.” He checked the man’s pulse. Unconscious was the wrong word. “Randolph... we’ve been looking for this guy for months.”

Another machine gun erupted by the SUV ahead of us. The rear end burst into flame, revealing its capsized position in the muck. Good Samaritans who had pulled to lend a hand suddenly scattered like cockroaches back to their cars and away from the scene.

Bennet grabbed my arm and pulled me close to the bushes again. He had a gun; it was too dark to see what it was, but the way he held it and the way he moved told me he wasn’t your typical late-night dive bar parking lot sleazeball.

“You a cop, Bennet?”

“Detective Kerry—DC MPD.”

“Barry Kerry!”

“Yeah. You girls just walked into my undercover investigation into human trafficking.”

“Aw dammit... I knew there was something familiar about you, but you look different.”

“Six years will do that.”

I realized how different we must look. We were fourteen when he last saw us. He peeked around the brush and ducked back quickly.

“Looks like he’s hurt. He’s kneeling down now.”

I yelled into the bushes again, “Jade!”

“Keep your voice down, please.” Barry took a couple steps toward the wounded gunman, ready for anything. He stopped, shook his head, and looked again, then turned to me. “It’s Jade.”

That’s all I needed to hear. I jumped out to see. From that distance, and at night, it could have been anyone, but I knew it was her. She was limping a bit. Some more cars were pulling off the road to marvel at the flaming capsized SUV. A couple of people were running toward it across the grass.

I yelled again, “Twig!” I ran for her.

“Hunter!” she yelled back.

She looked like a badass superchick—she was carrying a red rose in both hands while fire blazed in the distance behind her, mud from head to toe, jacked up hair, machine gun strapped over her shoulder... all while rocking it in a black high-waste mini skirt, long-sleeve crop top, and combat boots.

“You alright, Twig?” I yelled to her.

“Hell yeah! You?” she called back as I ran to her.

“Never better!”

We grabbed each other like only twins can.

“Love you, Stick,” she cried.

“Love you back, Twig.”

“Can we go home now?” She asked, rhetorically.

Tears fell from my eyes. The words were almost caught in my throat, “I just want pizza.”

*** 6 JADE ***

Barry was right. My plan probably wasn't any better than his. I climbed into the back seat and he climbed over to the passenger side.

I looked at the SUV in front of us. “Did you see the driver get out?”

He thought for a second, “I don’t know.”

“Give me six seconds, then go.”

“Jade, wait...” was all I heard as I stepped out and ran toward the SUV, armed with a .22 and a winning smile. I ran up waving my hands all over. The Caddy’s headlights were shining up the hill, defining the silhouettes of a few of the men headed down. I banged on the side of the SUV. If there was a driver, I’d have his attention, and that would give Barry the opportunity to get out of his car unnoticed. With any luck, there wouldn’t be anyone in there anyway.

No such luck. The driver’s door opened, and a man got out with a look on his face that said, “I eat puppies for breakfast.”

“Did you see that!” I cried hysterically, “What happened?! Did anyone call 9-1-1?!”

“Lady, just stop,” he demanded just before I pointed my little pistol in his puppy-eating face. Some people think a .22 isn’t deadly or won’t penetrate bone. Both theories are wrong. Regardless, nobody likes to get shot, so he was ready to listen.

“Take off your coat. Now.”

He got his suit coat about halfway off when the men opened up on the Caddy. It startled me just a tad. I accidentally pulled the trigger and plinked the driver in the side of the head. He dropped like a rock.

“Oh shit! I’m sorry!” I said, uselessly. I really wasn’t going to shoot him, but there wasn’t time for remorse. I ran past him and banged on the SUV’s horn. The machine guns stopped. A quick scan of the SUV’s interior revealed an assault rifle and a huge bouquet of flowers in the front passenger seat, the rear passenger door wide open, and a scared little Asian girl with her hands bound in a zip tie and duct tape over her mouth in the seat right behind me.

“Are your feet tied up?”

She shook her head as she reached to pull the tape from her mouth.

“What’s your name?”

“Melanie.”

“Melanie, get out and jump in those bushes, right now! And stay quiet!”

I got back out and stripped the coat from the dead man’s arms. Putting it on, I jumped into the driver’s seat and put it in Drive. Not two seconds later, I heard and felt the men piling back into the back of the SUV. I heard the rear doors slam and someone shouted, “Go, go, go!”

The tires spun in place on the wet grass. I let off the gas and allowed them to bite. I drove up the little hill between us and the road. Bouncing onto the road, I heard the men laughing at their own folly, trying helplessly to steady themselves by grabbing onto anything they could find.

Steady pavement brought the bumpy ride to an end. Inevitably, somebody noticed. “Where’s the girl?!”

Watching the girl was apparently the driver’s job, and I felt, in an instant, all eyes were on the back of my head. Dark hair and a suit coat were enough to satisfy them before, but the charade was over now.

“I am the girl.”

I threw the wheel to the right, back over the curb, throwing men and machine guns back into the blender. Up the little hill, down the hill, bouncing over a bike path... I’d had enough. I dove out the door and prayed for the best.

There was nothing but grass between the SUV and the riverbank. It found soft ground near the bank and one tire dug in causing it to turn on a dime and roll on its side as it ran out of earth and stopped immediately in the water.

I’d rolled enough times in the grass to lose my sense of direction and balance, but that didn’t stop me from trying to get on my feet. I stumbled drunkenly in a tight circle, my legs never finding their way under me. I closed my eyes and clawed my fingers into the grass to keep from flying off the Earth.

Seconds ticked by. I opened my eyes and regained control... sort of. I managed to get to my feet this time and I walked toward the SUV, following the tire tracks in the grass for additional aid in direction. A long-stemmed rose had escaped in the mayhem. I knelt down to pick it up, fighting back the urge to puke in the grass. To my feet again, I staggered toward another find in the dark. I tilted my head as my eyes struggled to define it. The assault rifle. “Heh... sweet.”

Dad would never approve of this.

I held the rose in my teeth while I emptied the magazine into the belly of the SUV. At some point, the gas tank was hit and it didn’t take long for something to ignite it. There was a good bang, but nothing like when they explode in the movies. That was enough. The fire lit up the ground a bit better than before and my head was on straight enough to head back toward where it all went wrong. Hunter would call it closure. Hunter... the image of her riddled with bullets, tumbled around in the trunk of slave trader’s Caddilac... it hit hard enough to buckle my knees.

“Jade!”

My mind was playing with me. I heard Hunter’s voice ahead of me, but when I looked up, I knew it was just Barry. I forced myself to my feet and managed a confident walk toward Barry.

“Twig!” I heard her again. Focusing the best I could, I saw her running toward me.

Hunter’s sisterly reunions can be a bit overdramatic at times, but under the circumstances, I didn’t care. She walked me back up toward the grove of bushes and trees. Barry ran down to help.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, concern slipping through his anger.

My head started spinning again. “I’m okay, just a bit dizzy,” is all I managed to say before losing my balance again.

Barry took the gun by the strap and re-homed it on his shoulder, then asked if I could walk, or I wanted him to carry me. I opted to try walking again. “No thanks,” I said, “I’m good.”

Hunter walked beside us as he carried me the rest of the way up the hill.

“Wait, stop” I said when we got to the poor schlub I accidentally shot. I called out to the bushes, “Melanie! It’s okay, you can come out now!”

The bushes were so thick she probably wouldn’t have been visible even if it were noon. She struggled trying to climb back up through them.

I told Hunter, “Help her.” She wasn’t sure what to expect, but she helped crunch weeds and bushes and limbs out the girl’s way as she climbed. Hunter grabbed her wrists when she was halfway out and pulled her through the mess. Once free, she threw her hands over Hunter’s head and hugged her and thanked her for saving her life.

Hunter hugged her back. She’s like that with everyone. She laughed, “It’s just some bushes, kid, you would have made it.”

I had to laugh too. “She thinks you’re me, dipshit.”

They stopped and looked over at me, Melanie’s arms stuck around Hunter’s neck. Talk about awkward. Melanie lifted her hands up over her as Hunter ducked down to aid in the effort. “I feel better. I think I can try standing.”

Barry gently let my feet down. He asked her, “So, where’d you come from?”

She just looked at him, unsure of what the answer was. I helped, “She was in the SUV. I told her to jump in the bushes and stay quiet.”

“It’s Melanie?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

Melanie, I’m Detective Kerry, with the...”

“Barry Kerry,” Hunter and I sung out in unison.

“Yes, I’m Detective Barry Kerry, with DC Metropolitan police, and these are my friends—that’s Hunter, and this is Jade.”

She looked at Hunter, “You’re a police officer?”

“No, but our dad is. We’re helping Barry with a case.”

“And your job is done now,” he added, “You three are staying here and waiting for the cops. Melanie, what’s your last name?”

“Frisk.”

“Jade, get her out of that zip tie,” he said, offering his knife.

“I don’t need that. I’ll show her how.”

“Barry,” Hunter interrupted, “I heard Draszo on the phone while I was in the trunk.”

Melanie’s eyes widened. I can only imagine what she was thinking—what she’d seen, what she was hearing.

He said, basically, ‘Yeah, Bennet’s with me right now, with his bodyguards,’ and that, ’The girls have been on the plane since Tuesday, it leaves at four a.m. sharp,” and as soon as someone pays the money, whether it’s Bennet or Kramer or Randolph or... somebody else, I don’t remember the name, he said, ‘the pilot will know where to land.’”

“Did he mention an airport?”

“No, I don’t think so. He just said they’ve been on the plane.”

“What about a city... or a state even?”

“No.”

More onlookers were stopping to see what was happening. Barry ushered our group back toward his car.

Hunter stopped, “Wait, he did say that he didn’t know what time it was there. He said, ‘I don’t know what time it is there; I don’t even know what time it is here!’ and then he laughed.”

Melanie slammed her fists across her knee, breaking the plastic tie as quickly as it restored her confidence.

“Melanie, do you remember hearing anything about an airport, or...”

“No. I’m sorry. They just said I was a gift for somebody...” she started sobbing. Hunter grabbed her again and held her.

Barry was pissed. I was livid. Hunter was consoling, but inside, I could see she was on fire.

“Jade, why don’t you take Melanie and sit in the car with her while I talk to Hunter and try to figure out who would want to kill Draszo?

“I would,” Hunter offered.

“Yup,” I seconded as I held out my hand to Melanie.

“You know what I mean.”

I told Melanie, “Here, hold onto me, Mel. I’m going to hold onto you, too... in case I fall over.”

*** 7 HUNTER ***

I mean, it wasn’t a big bowl of feathers, but wet grass is probably a close second if you have to jump out of a moving car wearing a skirt, right? We had no idea where she was, so we were just happy to find her. She had it worse. They had good reason to think I was probably dead, so she was even more thrilled to see me. After Barry air-lifted her back up the hill, and this cute little girl, Melanie Frisk, crawled out of the bushes, we had a quick debriefing to figure out our next step. Barry thought we were just figuring out his next step. He had it in his mind that Jade and I were going to just sit there and wait to be interrogated by the police when they showed up.

I told him about what I'd overheard while I was riding in Draszo’s trunk, and he sent Melanie and Super-Jade to go chill in his car while we talked more. They only made it part of the way there. They were far more interested in listening to us than sitting in the back seat of a car, wondering.

“Hunter, I have to get to that meeting with Dvorak. In thirty minutes, he’s going to sell forty-seven young girls like Melanie to the highest bidder. I need to get him to tell me where that plane is, and send in the police, wherever it is, before it takes off.”

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

“Hey, I know you think you’re a part of this, but you’re not. It’s a miracle you’re still alive, and I’m not about to put you at risk again.”

“How are you going to get him to tell you where the plane is?”

“He thinks I’m one of his top buyers. He’ll tell me.”

“Why? Are you planning on buying them?”

“No, I’m planning on making an offer, and finding out where the plane is in the meantime.”

“That’s your plan? What if he doesn’t tell you? What if he’s like any normal person and only gives the location to the highest bidder? Hell, what if he’s like a regular businessman and won’t tell anyone where he runs his operation, and just asks you where you want the plane to land?”

“I’m pretty good at what I do, Hunter.”

“Pretty good? You’re pretty good? We’re not involved, and you’re pretty good. If you’ll recall, I was shot at while riding in the trunk of a car, which crashed into a swamp, then I was shot at again! Then, Jade took out six guys while you and me just watched!”

“Seven,” Jade called from behind me.

“That’s right, seven! And she took out Randolph, the human trafficker, who nobody’s seen in months!”

“Hey guys!” Melanie called. We turned to look at her and Jade. “There’s a sopping wet fat man in the back of the car. He looks dead. Is that normal?”

“I can’t even remember the last time something normal happened,” I answered.

Me and Barry hustled to the back of the car. It was Draszo, but he wasn’t dead. We all just looked at each other as if someone might have an answer. Barry pointed.

Jade shrugged and pointed to the smoke, “I was in the...” she didn’t have to finish.

“I was in the bushes,” Mel offered.

“I was with you,” I said.

We all stared into the car at the big man inside. Jade slapped his foot, “Hey!”

That got his attention. He wheezed and snorted and groaned as he sat up. He’d been shot in the shoulder and lower leg. The shoulder looked bad, but the leg, only grazed. “What happened? Are they gone?” he asked. “All my men are dead! Who is she?” he pointed at Melanie.

Barry answered him. I’m not sure the rest of us knew what to say anyway. “Drazso, you’ve been shot. You’re in shock. Just sit tight.” He shut the door on him and leaned on it. “Shhhhit.”

“We don’t have time for this... Bennet,” I said, reminding Jade.

“That man is Draszo?” Melanie asked.

“Yes, how do you know his name?” Jade asked.

Barry wasn’t interested in semantics, “Everyone come up here,” he ushered us to the front of the car. “The four of you are staying here. Draszo’s a basket case—he's not a threat to you. I’m going to meet with Dvorak. This just got way too complicated.”

“What are we supposed to tell the...” I caught myself at police, “What are we supposed to say? There’s a dead crime lord laying over there with Jade’s bullet in his head. You’re going to leave us alone with that? And what, are we supposed to say we walked here? What are you going to do if Drazso makes a phone call after he finds out about our family?”

“What is it with you?” he spit back at me, “Are you not going to be satisfied until you get somebody killed? I’m trying to avoid that.”

“You’re trying too hard,” I spat back, “and not hard enough. Call ‘your people’ when we get on the road. Arrange for them to pick up Melanie and we can drop her off on the way to the airport. Dvorak is expecting a gift; we’ll be the gift—me and Jade. If you can’t get what you need out of him, maybe he’ll say something when he thinks it doesn’t matter.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Melanie Frisk spoke up, “Randolph said Drazso and Dvorak are cousins. If that’s true, he may be mad if he thinks he might be dead. He was going to kill both of you and blame it on somebody named Corona.”

“Yeah, Corona! That was the other name,” I added... not helping.

She went on, “Dvorak is expecting me. You have to take Drazso, and if he tells Dvorak you left me somewhere, he’ll be furious with you; and... I don’t think it would make sense if you showed up without your bodyguards, especially after all of this.”

Barry was letting it sink in. He knew where I stood, and Melanie was feeling inspired.

“I can’t. I just... I can’t, Melanie. You’re...”

“I’m eighteen, Detective. I can’t force you to take me, but you’re not obligated to do anything on account of my age. Legally, I’m old enough to make my own decisions, and I’m offering to do this... because I know, more than anyone here, what is at stake.”

He still wasn’t sure. “Jade, you seem to be the voice of reason. What do you think?” he asked.

“The fat guy rides up front. You’ve got about twenty-five minutes to get to the meeting. If you think of a better plan on the way there, you can all an audible.”

He smiled, “That sounds like your father talking. Okay, but nobody says a word while we drive. I need to concentrate on finding a safe and much, much, much more sensible solution. Got me? Nobody says a word.”

We kept our word. The three of us kept quiet so Barry could think, but the next twenty minutes on the road were filled with nothing but the soothing, gentle voice of a wounded Serbian man telling stories about crouching beneath the dedicated men who gave their lives to protect him, and bodies flying everywhere as the car bounced and jumped and crashed, and how he opened the door and fell into foul water. He’d seen me running along the wooden path and managed to crawl up onto it after the shooting was over. He ran to find me, saw the car, saw me and (Bennet), but opted to crawl inside the car when he felt faint. He would have helped, but he was too weak and too late... (and too busy hiding).

Having no time to think of a plan B, Barry went with plan A, which, if I have to be honest, wasn’t much of a plan. The only guy who had any idea what to expect wasn’t on our team. Still, making it the rest of the way to Ronald Reagan without being shot at or crashing felt like an upgrade. The seat belt was a welcome perk as well.

Drazso phoned ahead to let Dvorak know his Cadillac had met with an unfortunate end, and that we’d be arriving in a gray ’29 Camry instead, which we did.

Dvorak had well-dressed security guards, I had to give him that. I guess, with the number of foreign dignitaries and local politicians flying in and out, private guards in private hangars were probably pretty common. Treating a gunshot wound, however... that seemed a bit out of the ordinary. Still, they had someone ready with first aid for Drazso—something that would get him through the meeting before heading out to get real medical attention.

They took our phones and scanned us for bugs, then three guards escorted us up the three steps onto a private jet, where we assumed Dvorak was waiting.

A holographic skinny blonde flight attendant greeted us inside. Her over-the-top friendliness was out of place under the circumstances. “Good morning, friends,” she gloated, “Please take a seat anywhere. The Restroom is at the rear of the cabin and complimentary beverages are behind me...”

We all dove for the beverages. Water bottles all around. We loaded up and began admiring the posh interior. Warm woods and leather, plush carpet... this was beyond anything I’d ever seen. It was like a romantic restaurant with really sparce seating and only tables for two. I would have expected a narrow aisle and more chairs, but this flying boardroom was clearly designed for luxury rather than capacity.

Dvorak was waiting, but he wasn’t on the plane. A monitor toward the tail of the plane had a man’s face on it, welcoming us aboard.

“Mr. Bennet,” the man said, “Thank you for continuing to the meeting. I’m glad to see you were not hurt in the cowardly attack on the way there. Under the circumstances, I would not have expected you to rush to meet with me.”

Barry addressed the camera just over the monitor, “Part of the business, right,” Barry shrugged.

“And I understand I have you young ladies to thank for my cousin’s survival. Sergei insists on foregoing medical attention, to my dismay.”

“His men saved his life,” I answered.

Drazso added in, “Once, yes. But this one led me to safety when Randolph’s men tried a second time; and this one, hmm... this one put an end to him and his men. With my own eyes I saw, or I would not have believed it.”

“Sergei tells me Randolph abducted you—he was not a principled man. It is a rare thing you have accomplished. You have killed your captor. Few people in history have had the honor of such ascension.”

“It was my pleasure,” Jade said coldly.

“I’m sure it was!” he laughed. “Mr. Bennet, regardless of our business today, I should like to meet with you and your captor-killer... someday soon.”

“Bratránek, if I may… it is better if you do not separate them.”

“Of course, I did not mean to suggest otherwise. And now, because my business with Mr. Bennet is ours, alone, I must ask, Sergei, that you excuse us.”

Drazso and the three well-dressed guards exited, walking through the smiley holographic stewardess without hesitation.

It suddenly hit me. I had to let Barry know, but I couldn’t say it out loud. I moved my hand behind Barry’s back and started tracing large letters, in caps, on his back. I spelled out: H-E-K-N-O-W-S.

The fuselage door sealed behind us, and a cloud of noxious gas began to fill the plane.

Dvorak continued, “Do not worry... the gas is not deadly. I suggest you sit down and put on your seatbelts before you lose consciousness.”

Melanie Frisk and I ran for the door and tried, uselessly, to turn the handle. It was hopelessly locked. I felt the gas taking effect. I sank to the floor. Looking up, I saw Jade walking toward me. Behind her, Barry was pouring water into his coat pocket. “Do as he says, girls. Get comfortable.”

Melanie buried her face in her shirt and coughed until she passed out. Jade helped me up as I began to cough. She was holding her breath—her last lung-full of clean air—as she pulled me over to one of the plush leather seats and buckled me in. She sat next to me and did the same. Barry breathed into his wet coat; his eyes were on all of us. Jade started coughing as my eyelids gave in. I heard the door open, but it was too late. I couldn’t move. I heard Drazso’s muzzled accent, “They’re out! Clear the cabin! Let’s go...”

(Part 2 is available in the Fiction Portal -- I hope you like cliffhangers!)