Thick, inky darkness filled the space around her head; lifting her aching face from the cold cement floor, she looked around but found it fruitless. The area was in complete darkness; she couldn't see her hand before her face. Slowly pushing into a sitting position, Caroline sucked in a breath, swallowing a moan of agony. Everything ached. Where they were, she didn't know; how they had gotten here, she didn't know; why this dark room that could rival a grave was the chosen place of confinement... it wasn't up to her to understand why, but one thing Caroline knew ... they were taking turns in beating them, her bruises had bruises, and she was worried about her best friend.

"Angie," Caroline whispered, "are you here?"

Silence as thick as the darkness met her straining ears. It was like sensory deprivation without the chamber. The door at the room's far end opened, letting in a ray of light that penetrated the tenebrosity. Its sudden appearance hurt her eyes as it spread through the room.

"Leave a lamp in here," she heard a female bark the command as two men dragged a limp form between them; one clicked on a flashlight to show the way, "we don't want them going blind at the end of this ... experience."

Lowering herself to the ground again, Caroline closed her eyes against the straining light; she heard a thump close by and waited until a closing door could be heard from the far end. It took a while before she heard the sound she waited for. Slowly opening her eyes, Caroline found the room illuminated by a tall white floor lamp. Blinking against the light and shielding them with her blood-streaked hand, she waited for her eyes to become accustomed before taking in her environment. Boxes lay piled against the wall, a chest on the far end, covered in dust, and a layer of grim indicated how long it had been left in place. The cold cement floor was covered in dust and cobwebs. It looked like an old storage area. Not far from her, Angie lay motionless. Slowly working her aching body toward her, Caroline laid two swollen fingers against the pulse point at her neck. Sighing with relief as she felt the pulse beat faintly against her fingers.

"Angie, what did they do to you?" Caroline whispered as she gently moved the strands of hair hanging over her friend's face and gasped at a web of fist marks, cuts and bruises on Angies face, shoulders and arms. Holding her hand in front of her friend's mouth, she swallowed the rising anguish as a puff of air brushed against her palm through the split and swollen lips, "They will pay for what they are doing. That I promise you."

Easing against a nearby box, Caroline sighed, closed her eyes and drifted on a swimming sea of uncertain oblivion as her mind tried to sort through the possible reasons why this was happening now, all these years later. Surely The Calderone would wish to refrain from carrying out decades-old decrees, or was it one with no expiration date? Caroline's bruised brow couldn't make it out. Sliding her eyes open as wide as the swollen lids would go, she took in the room again, noticing a box with a number she hadn't seen for many years. Closing her eyes, she opened them again and shook her head.

"No way," she hissed in pain as she slowly crawled toward it, "how? I don't understand ... why is this box here?"

Opening the box, she frowned at the array of children's toys. Gingerly picking them up one at a time. Each one on its own could pass as a child's plaything, but when looking at all of them together, Caroline began to smile. Easing into a sitting position, she began playing with the spy toys, hoping that one still worked. It was something to pass the time while down here, and if she placed them in a way that didn't look conspicuous in the gloom of the limited lamplight, her captors wouldn't notice what she was doing. Spreading them out, connecting them together to form a board of toys, Caroline's bruised, split lips spread lopsidedly into a grin.

"Jonaraja," Caroline whispered, "you did train her … even against all odds." Slowly her fingers began to move as her tired mind slowly remembered aged instructions from decades ago, "there must be …" she looked in the box and chuckled, "… the plan was put into place years ago."

Resting herself against a large box, Caroline continued pressing the buttons and keys in the order she could remember. Hope flared. Silently praying that someone out there could find them, could hear their cry for help and would answer. Glancing over her shoulder, she prayed they would leave this place and be taken away from harm before they were both killed. Caroline swallowed rising emotions as her fingers continued to play. Time.... they needed it but were running out. If either of them were beaten as viciously as they had been, chances were they would be placed in a shallow unmarked grave with all the others this family had discarded.

Sitting in the back of the van with so many hulking men dressed in black and dripping with weapons, Bevis sighed. It felt strangely familiar. She couldn't say she wanted to live every day of her life doing this kind of thing, no matter how noble saving people's lives against evil people could seem. It wasn't her. The insistent buzzing against her leg brought her hand to dip into the pocket of her cargo pants. A frown puckered between her eyes as she read the message on her phone screen.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

"Caroline and Angie are alive," she said, pulling the attention of everyone around toward her, "one of them found the box and is sending a message."

"What kind of message?" Chelsea asked.

"S.O.S," Bevis said, narrowing her eyes, "but there is something else ..." she paused, listening to the bleeping with the code, "I think one of them needs medical attention."

"No," Nagid said, "that is a distress call for more than medical attention. The signal is decades old ..." he frowned, "... it means that the sought-after target is on the premises."

"Bev did say follow the box," Chelsea said, smothering a smile, "are we heading in the correct direction?"

Pulling up her tracking application, Bevis nodded, "They are still at that warehouse or whatever it is," she shook her head, "but they may see us coming if they have guards."

"Do you think you could communicate with whoever is on the other side of that transmission?" Nagid asked.

"I doubt it," Bevis said, "my father bought me those toys when I was young; I think they only transmit."

"Your father bought you spyware when you were a kid," Chelsea said, meeting Bevis's gaze, "you really had a strange upbringing."

"I guess," Bevis said, shrugging, "I'm sure I wasn't the only one."

"Bev, your father taught you to be a spy, and your mother taught you to be a socialite," Chelsea said, chuckling, "and you've been out of your depth most of your life ... how are you going to find your feet?"

"Chels, I don't think I ever will," Bevis sighed, "I'd be happy with finding a world where I don't live like this every day."

"Yeah, you're not built for this," Chelsea said, "you're intelligent, got smarts which most of us haven't, see things in more than three dimensions, but living like this most of your life with guns hanging from your waist ... that isn't you."

"I don't think anything I do is truly me," Bevis said, "I would be happy simply to fit ..." she shook her head, "I'm not sure I do ... not anywhere."

Suddenly the van stopped moving, and the driver indicated for Nagid to move to the front; a conversation was muttered between the three men up front before Nagid returned, holding onto the rail, running down the middle of the van and looking at each person seated looking at him while the vehicle slowly moved forward.

"We're going to have to move in from a point close by," he said, "they have centuries two blocks out, and there is no one else around; they will see us coming..." he looked at Bevis, "... you were right ... they have brought the fight to this block of warehouses for a reason."

The van pulled over, and everyone filed out the back, checking weapons and adding ammunition stores on their utility belts and pant pockets. Slowly walking into the middle of the alleyway where the van had pulled in between two metal trash cans, Bevis took in the area. Something about it seemed familiar, but she could pinpoint it. Lately, Bevis had been in a few alleyways. Shaking her head, she sighed.

"Stop being fantastical, Bevis," she muttered to herself, following the line of men as they made their way toward the end of the alleyway.

The vibrating continued in her pocket, and she hoped they could extract Caroline and Angie before it was too late. Breathing in, Bevis held her breath as she extended herself again to reach beyond herself and do something different, dangerous and defining.

Nagid silently communicated with the group, and they split up, moving in different directions, but Chelsea stayed at her side.

"Are we to stay here?" Bevis whispered.

"No, we're going straight," Chelsea whispered, "we're going to be the decoy. If they take us into wherever they are holding Caroline and Angie, so much the better."

She held a clear capsule with a blinking white light toward Bevis, "Swallow this."

Taking it, Bevis held it up and watched Chelsea swallow one like it, "A homing beacon."

Chelsea nodded, "It will bring the teams to the correct entry point. Let's go be the bait."

"They will take one look at you and know there are others," Bevis said, looking at Chelsea.

"They may, but they may scoff at only one person coming to the rescue instead of an entire unit," Chelsea said, "remember, no one knows of my other day job ... let's do this."

Nodding, the two women moved into the alleyway leading them to the point of the tracking beacon in the box. Three alleyways later, they heard what they had been waiting for ... a bullet being loaded into a chamber.

"I wouldn't move any further," a sneering male voice said from the shadows.

"About time," Chelsea murmured, "I was beginning to think we had this wrong."