Chapter VII - Hostage Part Three

The mercedes swung to a halt along the curb, and the driver leapt out in a calculated hurry. The girl strode purposefully towards the tinted glass doors of the 1,800 feet span of the four-story Aboveground Agency Quarters. Upon entrance unseen people leapt out to her sides, carrying reports and documentation on clipboards and in folders. They harried her with information and possible routes of action, but she waved them away and addressed the second in command officer of the Frontier Division standing by the eastern wing doors.

“Lieutenant Smithfield, where is the private jet stationed? And Agent Reid and Farrow?”

“The northeastern wing Agent Raynon; they’re waiting for you at the walkway,” apprised the lieutenant. 

Esteire responded with a curt nod and headed off in the given direction. The deep green corridors soon gave way to clear glass walls, indicating that the air pads were right ahead. Through the glass she could espy Darren and three other people near him standing beside a light blue-silver jet. A man was informing him of the mission details, a clipboard in his hand, while a shorter brunette by him appeared to be listening along. The apprentice? Esteire surmised.

As she neared the group took attention and Darren waved her over.

“Did Agent Mercier tell you what happened?” he asked once she was close.

“Yes and no, a girl came by my house and told me. A new friend of hers supposedly,” Esteire responded as the man with the clipboard gave her some documents.

She flipped through them, scanning them for any information she wasn’t aware of.

“Do we not know where they took her still?” she then asked the man.

“No, but Agent Mercier believes her to be at their newest hideout. They had discovered it weeks before, and would’ve discovered it much earlier had it not been hidden so well. The main stronghold is easily searchable and they found no traces of her there nor in the subsidiary buildings. Also, a helicopter was spotted a few minutes ago traveling towards the hideout designated H6-4. It is not believed to the vehicle she traveled in. Crates of some unidentifiable material were located in them,” detailed the man.

“And that’s where we’re headed,” Esteire finalized and prepared to get on board the aircraft.

The man nodded and Darren, the supposed apprentice, and the pilot followed behind her.

In a matter of seconds the engine sprung to life and lifted off from the air pad in a flurry of floor dust and whipped air. And the rescue commenced.

“H6-4 right ahead, prepare for departure,” the pilot’s voice came overhead.

The three agents strapped themselves with their necessary equipment and readied the landing ropes. They packed lightly, only bringing the most essential and high-tech yet weightless arsenal with them. After all, they were heading into the hideout of the most ruthless, advanced, and globally feared organization.

The private jet that resembled that of a helicopter with its hovering capabilities---one of the special technologies of the Agency---floated over the building roof where a ceiling window was located.

The hideout was a single story expanse of a thousand feet hidden in a natural forest many miles from the outskirts of the nearest town. The roof was a dark green shade and the walls a dusty deep brown---just like the trees surrounding it.

The agents skimmed down the rope and landed on two feet and one hand for stability and softness of landing; they didn’t want to be heard overhead. As for the jet, it was silent in flight; another brilliant innovation of Nicolas Mercier.

They moved quickly, efficiently opening the steel bolts of the ceiling window and slipping inside. Once they all entered, the aircraft left for a secluded waiting place nearby. Clothed in black the three surveyed the area. No signs of inhabitance.

“This is the place, no?” said Esteire to her long-time partner.

“Yes, as this is a relatively new hideout in a remote location there isn’t much personnel, but I’m sure they have the best if they’re holding her here,” confirmed Darren, fingering a gadget that resembled a watch on his wrist, “The radar is creating a map for us; once it’s done in a few seconds we can move out to the suspected hostage locations.”

Esteire nodded and then turned her gaze towards his apprentice. She noted that they looked vaguely similar. He had dark brown hair and bright green eyes that instantly sent a shock of pain through her. Raine…

The boy, noticing her scrutinization shifted uncomfortably.

“Is something the matter?” he asked.

“Huh?” Esteire voiced, now realizing she was staring at him intently. “Oh, nothing. You’re the new apprentice, right? Agent Farrow?”

The boy, who looked no more than seventeen or eighteen, though was of a muscular build, answered in affirmative.

“My name’s Eren. Eren Farrow.”

She nodded again and then looked back at Darren whose gadget had finished creating the map.

“The first point is East Room 46, but the most likely is West Room 94. We want to make this quick so I think 94 is our best choice,” he reported.

“Yes, that’s the room closest the storage and loading area. They would have the tightest security there,” agreed Esteire.

The three walked soundlessly through the hallways, noting any abnormalities or incoming company. They had made it to Room 87 unnoticed when they suddenly heard voices and footsteps.

“…remaining shipment will come in two days,” said a man with businesslike tone.

“..but why do they have to have that girl there? She’s so annoying every time I’m there. She doesn’t even respond sheesh,” said his companion.

“We have to have her there. Boss said so. That way we can catch them whenever those **** agents come,” responded the first man; their voices now fully clear.

Esteire looked over at Darren who nodded, knowing exactly the next move. He turned towards his apprentice and mouthed, follow behind, sound-block. The two F.R.I.E. men continued their conversation, but once they hit two meters in front of the agents Esteire and Darren leapt out. Esteire swung her leg out in a circular motion, her hand supporting her on the ground as she tripped the first man. Darren took the second man’s distraction at his companion’s fall and kicked him square in the chest as Esteire followed through her leg sweep and knocked over the tripped man with a snap of the foot to the back. It wouldn’t hurt him, but it would momentarily paralyze him so she could tie his hands. Darren walked over to the stunned second man against the wall and easily bound his wrists. All of this happened in a matter of seconds as Agent Farrow came up and immediately duck taped their mouths. Before the men saw who they were the agents exited the vicinity and continued on their way.

“So she is there,” Darren commented, “Then let’s end this quickly.”

They reached Room 94 without any further encounters, but the area itself had several guards and other men walking around.

“Eren and I will distract, you head over to the storage room,” ordered Darren, taking out his high caliber Agency stun gun.

“Hm,” Esteire agreed and slunk around the corner towards her sister.

“Let’s do this Renny,” said Darren with wry enthusiasm. “Hey, my name’s-” Eren began to retort but Darren was already off.

As the boys preoccupied the guards and surrounding people, Esteire remained undetected while she hacked into the electronic keypad lock of the storage door and slipped inside. There was ample light in the room, and it was well organized and labeled. For a storage room though, it was rather large. Plastic containers of files, cardboard boxes, and crates lay neatly assorted along metal racks of eight-foot shelves that were arranged in rows, seven rows in total spanning ten shelves deep, each three meters apart. Interspersed between the shelves were stack of boxes and wooden crates on the gray-white linoleum. Some of the larger crates had hay peeking out of the cracks, the material littering the area around them. It didn’t look like there was anyone inside, but just as Esteire was about to call her sister’s name the door on the other side of the room opened and five people entered.

“…the last of the petroleum has been modified and are ready for usage,” reported a man with dark brown hair probably of forty-some years of age.

“Good, prepare the crafts for takeoff to New York,” replied a stern man of dark grayish hair who looked to be the leader.

The dark brown-haired man nodded and retreated to the back of the group to exit the storage room.

“Now, where is my little Miss Passport?” said the leader out loud as he walked towards the middle east section of the room with the remaining three men.

“Right here Mr. Leon. She’s been quartered in the equipment room,” said a disturbingly familiar voice.

At the sound of his tone Esteire peeked out from behind her cover of cardboard boxes. at the bottom right corner of the room. It was him. Mr. Emerson. Or should she say, second in command of F.R.I.E.?

She watched as the two other men, bodyguards she assumed, pushed aside the only wooden shelf in the room that laid against the wall. Behind the shelf was a plain wooden door; it seemed almost out of place in the metal-abound building of steel doors and furniture. Even the very device ordinary to everyday life seemed strange---a key. Mr. Emerson retrieved it from his coat pocket and unlatched the mundane door, then he and the leader entered as the bodyguards stationed themselves outside.

The leaders no longer in sight, but their voices still discernible, she listened to them talk to her sister.

“Miss Andrews, didn’t I tell you that it’s futile to escape? But why do have that broom in your hand? Put it down or we’ll have to lock you in chains instead of ropes, and that wouldn’t be very pleasant for a delicate girl like you now would it?” crooned Mr. Emerson sordidly.

“Don’t you dare get any closer!” yelled her sister threateningly, her strong tone surprising Esteire, “I don’t know why you captured me, but I’ll have nothing to do with you and this terrible, locked-up place! Now step aside!”

“Pfft!” snickered Mr. Emerson who turned to Mr. Leon whose expression hadn’t changed since entering the storage room. “Can you believe her? She’s a feisty one isn’t she despite her appearance? It’s too bad she can’t join our team; I’m sure she could fool any one,” he continued, his tone now of mockery.

Mr. Leon, though, simply addressed the bodyguards out front as if he was used to the other man’s ridicule of people.

“Restrain her.”

At his words Esteire leapt out from behind the boxes and rushed towards the bodyguards whose backs were now turned towards her as they began to enter the room. In two deft swipes of her retractable, multi-use steel pole she snapped the bodyguards in the back, making sure to only paralyze them temporarily without inflicting damage to the spine or vital organs.

Elisabeth, though not knowing what was happening, took advantage of the men’s distraction at the thumps of the fallen guards and sprinted out of the equipment room. The brighter light outside momentarily blinded her before her eyes focused on the person in front.

“Esteire?!!” she cried in total disbelief, “What’re y-”

“No time to talk, let’s go,” interrupted her sister, yanking Elisa away by the wrist as the guards began to rise and the other men finally ran out in realization.

“YOU!! STOP! APPREHEND HER!” screamed Mr. Emerson in fury as he sounded the alarm.

The siren keened around the girls as they made their escape into the hallways, making it difficult to hear Darren’s words as the two boys hurried to meet them.

“We managed to stall all of them before they sounded the alarm, but now there’ll be more coming. Let’s get out of here!”