CHAPTER 19

  It was past midnight when Fyche, Ralia, Kelsen, and the others arrived at the warehouses. Donovan and Alexei moved on ahead, being the fastest runners, and scouted around. They returned to report that some very paranoid individuals were standing around one of the warehouses; while they hadn’t recognized any of them, they didn’t act like security guards, and it was a little late for any workers to be on site.

  In fact, they hadn’t seen any security on the lot. Considering that surveillance systems were still being applied haphazardly on Latia compared to Moccs and the footage was grainy at best in the areas actually covered, it was odd not to have any actual people present. Pakos just shrugged and said they’d probably been bribed to not show up, or at least to take a walk.

  The others were relieved that Pakos hadn’t been lying or wrong after all, and they huddled together to plan their next move.

  “We can’t fight these guys,” said Ralia. “If we take too long or make too much noise—or a single one of them shouts or makes a call—there’s no telling what anyone inside would do to the...the hostages.”

  Fyche shook his head. “That door is the only way in, and there’s no way we’re sneaking past them.”

  “A ruse, then,” Veros said, smirking. “Look where we are. Dark out, remote area, bunch of ruffians. Prime spot for a drug deal. We just need someone to pretend to ask for the goods, then bail when they ‘realize’ they’re in the wrong place. These assholes won’t let them go, but they won’t panic and alert the others, either.”

  Alexei raised a paw. “I’ll do it. I mean, I’ll be the distraction. They probably know what the rest of you look like—Fyche, Ralia, and Donovan for sure, at least—but I can get close without getting outed immediately.” He shrugged. “Plus, I’m probably the fastest person here. All those years of track, finally good for something. Who’d have thought?”

  “But...shouldn’t at least someone go with him?” asked Kelsen.

  Veros shook her head. “The rest of us will be needed inside. Trust me. I’m sure Mr. Ran Track in High School will be fine.”

  Nodding, Alexei stood up straight. “Right. And two years in college, by the way. You guys just be ready, okay?” With a wink that belied the anxiety he must have been feeling, he made his way over to the warehouse, making sure to approach from a different direction to avoid giving the others away.

  They waited in anxious silence, listening. There was a low cry as Alexei was spotted, but as he approached with no obvious intent to hide himself, they thankfully didn’t immediately raise the alarm.

  “Hey. I’m here, like you said. I have the money you asked for, where’s the—you know, the stuff?”

  “What the fuck? Who are you? What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “I—are you not—they said the third warehouse from the left! I have the money, I just want my goods and I’m gone.”

  “Grab him. No one can know we’re here.”

  “L-look, I ain’t gonna snitch or nothin’! If this is the wrong spot, I’ll go. I don’t want no trouble!”

  “Get back here, you little shit!”

  There came the sound of a group running off, chasing down Alexei. Fyche poked his head around the corner, then motioned for the others to follow. They hadn’t expected every single one to go running off, but it seemed they’d had a stroke of good fortune.

  Knowing they didn’t have long, they scurried over to the door. Fyche rattled the latch. “Fuck! That last one locked it before he ran off.”

  Donovan put a paw on it. “Strong steel. Far too sturdy to break open.”

  “So we smash a window,” said Samet.

  Shaking her head, Ralia stopped him. “Too loud. Breaking a hole big enough to climb through would alert anyone inside, and maybe the ones that went chasing after Alexei, too.”

  “But not one small enough for us to squeeze through.” Everyone turned to look at Kelsen. “We don’t have time to argue about this. There’s this door and the shutter, which was locked up even tighter. Unless you want to try and take on all the ones that chased after Alexei and get the keys—which I really don’t see happening, especially not fast and quietly enough not to tip off the ones inside—we’re doing this.” Reorato and Niri nodded in agreement.

  Ralia clutched Kelsen close for a moment while Pakos and Donovan improvised some tape and the squirrel’s jacket to muffle the sound. “Be careful.”

  “I’m always careful,” he responded, much more confidently than he felt.

  The three Moccans slipped through the hole, edging along the windowsill and finding a place to drop down to the floor. The closest window had been a few rooms removed from the back door, requiring them to sneak as they found a route back.

  With his voice equipment muted, Kelsen spoke quietly, trying to cut the tension. “Heart’s pounding just like when me and Niko used to sneak back in the house in the middle of the night when we were kids. Avoiding getting seen by kidnappers honestly doesn’t feel that much different than trying not to wake my parents. Punishment is probably less severe, too.”

  Niri smiled weakly. “Yeah. Just gotta pretend I’m on the practice bar during gymnastics. One foot in front of the other, don’t hesitate...”

  “Be easier if it was just pickpocketing,” Reorato mused. When Kelsen gave him a confused look, he shrugged sheepishly. “I grew up in...I guess you’d call it a gang? They fed me and looked out for me, and I helped out by snatching wallets and picking locks. All the ones in the ‘bad part of town’ still used manual locks and keys back then.”

  “God,” was all Kelsen could say.

  Niri held up a hand. “Hopefully, those skills are about to come in useful. Look.” Around the next corner was the back door, with two Latians, a boxer and a calico, staring suspiciously at it. It seemed they were questioning why the door had been locked. It wouldn’t be long before they raised the alarm.

  “Sorry.” Reorato shook his head. “I can’t pick a lock that’s almost as big as me, not without some serious tools and probably some Latian help.”

  Kelsen pointed. “There. Keys on his belt.” As the others stared at the kidnapper he’d pointed out—the boxer—Kelsen folded his arms. “Shit. Okay. I have a really terrible plan. Reorato, think you can get the keys off his belt? I know it’s not the same.”

  “If I can get up there—yeah, see that shelf? If I climb up, I can probably jump across and snag it. But then he’ll just grab me. No way I can outrun him.”

  “You won’t need to.” Kelsen took a deep breath. “Okay. Niri, can you get up to the lock? Maybe using that table?”

  “Not a problem. But...”

  “Just wait. Here’s what we do: I run out and distract them. They hate Moccans—don’t see us as people. I really doubt they memorized exactly who they kidnapped. They chase me to put me back with the others. Reorato jumps across the shelves, getting the keys. Then he runs to the end of the shelf and throws them to Niri, who’s at the lock. She opens it. Our friends come in and hopefully save my stupid ass before I get captured or squashed.”

  “No way! We can think of something else,” said Niri.

  “Nope. Go now!” Not giving them any time to stop him, Kelsen ran out in the middle of the hallway and reactivated his Miicz. “Hey idiots! I got away! I’m gonna go report you to the authorities now!”

  “What the fuck?” the calico muttered, but both turned to chase Kelsen. Reorato was already climbing, and managed to get into position just in time. To his horror, the boxer quickly realized his keys were gone, and whirled around just as he was handing them off to Niri. Both of them were snatched up as she turned the key in the lock. Down the hallway, Kelsen had been grabbed by the calico. All three felt a prolonged moment of terror in their captors’ clutches.

  Then the door swung open, and Fyche, Ralia, and Veros stepped through. Fyche and Ralia were furious, but it was Veros casually pulling a pistol out of her purse that really gave the two rogue Latians pause. “If you move a muscle or make a sound, I will blow your dicks off and leave you to bleed out on the floor, writhing in pain. I graduated med school, so I can keep you alive long enough to truly appreciate the agony slowly and thoroughly. Do we have an understanding, gents?”

…

  Niko had no idea what time it was. Night, probably, but without his phone or another timekeeping device, it could be anywhere from dusk to dawn. Looking around at his fellow Moccans, he noted the downcast faces. After their earlier conversation, they’d all gone quiet, no doubt wondering what fate their captors had in store.

  They were hopeless.

  And that was a problem. If they were all too depressed to care, even if rescue came or an opportunity to make a break for it presented itself, they’d fail for sure.

  Niko was just as worried as they were, and he’d been staving off panic attacks the whole time, his previous trauma trying to cripple him. But he was responsible for these people. He’d brought them here. It was up to him to keep their spirits high.

  “Man, I’ve got no idea what time it is without my phone,” he said aloud. “I can just hear my grandad bitching. ‘Damn kids, always on they phones.’ I didn’t realize he was trying to prepare me for this.” That got a few exhalations. It wasn’t quite laughter, but it was a start. It meant they were listening. “Look, everyone. I know we’re in a pretty tight spot here, and the police might not even care. But if they don’t--fuck ‘em. ‘Cause we’ve got something better, someone better.”

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  Fomir rested his muzzle on his forearms. “Who, your boyfriend? He’s afraid of his own shadow.”

  “Actually, I was going to say Donovan,” Niko responded casually, getting to his feet. “What? Have you seen that motherfucker? Absolutely shredded. If I wasn’t already spoken for...come on, man, you’ve got eyes.”

  The deer couldn’t help giving him a wry smile, standing up next to him. “Abs for days. But he’s one guy.”

  Niko shrugged. “Well, then, I guess he’ll have to bring my boyfriend along for the ride--the boyfriend who, sciophobic or not, has thrown hands more than once in my honor and come out on top.”

  “Scio what?

  “You know, shadow fearing,” said Niko.

  Another hostage started to disagree, but Niko cut him off. “And then we’ve got Ralia, who is probably smarter than everyone here combined--and she’ll bring her sister, who I’m almost entirely certain is an international assassin. And obviously Samet will come, and I can’t speak for his history of violence, but I’m pretty sure he’s not happy about Jess being here.”

  Some of them were actually looking at him now. Still, they weren’t optimistic. “And so what if they come?” one asked. “There’s at least a dozen of these guys. Probably more. And some have guns!”

  “Look, I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy,” said Niko. “But people have made it out of more difficult situations than this. Hell, I’m sure some of us here have. I full on cheated death in the form of very large, angry paws trying to squeeze the life out of me! Anyone else survive something bad?”

  Mauv stood up. “Bottom surgery.”

  Niko blinked before patting him on the back. “Well, fuck, you win.” He extended a paw to the rest of the hostages. “But, see? That’s what I’m talking about. Every bad thing always seems like the worst bad thing, and like it’s the end. But we’re gonna be okay. One of these idiots will move us with the latch loose, or our friends will kick down the door, or the police will surround the place. Something. So we have to be ready.”

  They still weren’t exactly positive. But their resolve was firmer now, their eyes focused. Some still clearly disagreed, but at least that put them in the present, where they needed to be if they wanted a real chance at escaping.

  As they began to chatter among themselves, Voci stood up as well, signing something to Niko and Mauv. Fomir clamped a paw over his mouth while Niko gave them an apologetic smile and held up his paws. “Sorry, I don’t understand,” he said.

  Mauv spoke up, dispassionately. “It was a dick joke. To paraphrase, they said it was a good thing I’d transitioned in more ways than one--it would give me the inner strength to run faster, when the time came.”

  Niko couldn’t help but laugh a little. There was fear and panic behind it, yes, but it helped. Just as he was trying to do for them, they were trying to return the favor.

…

  Fyche and Samet quickly tied up and gagged the kidnapper pair using rope that Donovan had brought while he, Pakos, and Veros stood watch and Ralia checked on the Moccans. Kelsen and Niri had some slight bruising, but all were mostly fine.

  When Ralia offered them her paw, Kelsen shook his head. “We might need to play distraction or something again. We’ll follow you on our own.”

  Ralia frowned, but her response was cut off when Fyche savagely struck both bound kidnappers in the head, leaving them unconscious or at least dazed.

  “You know that’s not safe like in the movies, right? They could get serious brain damage,” Veros said.

  Fyche glared at her, but to her surprise, it was Ralia who answered. “And? They kidnapped our friends! For all we know, they’re going to kill them! Fuck them!” Fyche nodded in agreement.

  “Fair point, fair point. Just saying,” Veros said, holding up her free paw placatingly.

  With Fyche and Donovan leading the way and the Moccans bringing up the rear, they continued through the building, searching for where the kidnapped Moccans were being held. As they opened one door, they found another three of the hostage takers. One let out a strangled yell before getting a faceful of pepper spray, reducing him to a coughing, sputtering mess.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” muttered Pakos as Fyche and Donovan quickly subdued them as they had the others. “The rest have to know something’s up. We need to hurry.” Ralia glanced at him darkly, but nodded in agreement, and they rushed to the next room as soon as they were finished.

  As the door swung open, time seemed to slow down. They’d finally reached the room where the kidnapped Moccans were being held, huddled in two wire-mesh cages up on a shelving unit. There were also quite a few of the kidnappers—nine in total, half again as many as the rescuers. Even worse, three had guns of their own, though only one, a fox, had his at the ready. Even still, he hesitated. Veros didn’t.

  An explosive crack filled the enclosed space, causing several on both sides to flinch for a moment, including Veros herself. While she had fired immediately, she, along with Pakos, all the Moccans, and four of the kidnappers watched the fox fall, clutching his chest.

  The rest of the Latians leapt into action, Donovan smashing the pistol from a lion’s paws and Samet wrestling with a rat for control of a rifle. A horse managed to close with Veros, trying to wrest away her pistol and causing her to drop it, sending it skidding across the floor. Fyche and Ralia rushed forward, entering the fray to keep the dropped guns out of play, struggling with two opponents each; it took all of Ralia’s training to stay on her feet against a coyote and a labrador, and Fyche was out of his weight class fighting the bear he’d encountered before, backed up by a mean-tempered badger. Donovan grunted as he narrowly avoided being surrounded, the gator joining the lion to take him down.

  Pakos hung back in the doorway, looking uncertain. As he vacillated, the final kidnapper, a boar, rushed towards the cages where the Moccan hostages were being kept. Whether he intended to harm them or use them as leverage was unclear but hardly mattered. Finally joining the fight himself, Pakos rushed forward, dodging around thrown punches and raking claws to grab the boar from behind.

  The melee continued for what may have been only a minute but what felt like hours. It was oddly quiet but for grunts of exertion and pain. Several times, fighters on either side made a grab for a gun but were stopped before they could get a shot off. The labrador managed to pin Ralia temporarily, giving the coyote a chance to grab for the lion’s fallen pistol, only to find it gone; Kelsen, Niri, and Reorato had run into the chaos and carried it off. Before she could follow them out of the room, the coyote was struck by the badger, hurled into her by Fyche.

  The Moccans managed to do the same to the rifle, which at some point was thrown clear by Samet and the rat, but decided it was too dangerous to run for the remaining pistol as well, and chose another target.

  Veros lost her struggle with the horse and was thrown to the ground. He turned to the cages himself, clearly thinking along the same lines as the boar, only to find them empty. On the other side of the room, Kelsen and Niko were ushering the last of them out the door. Both flashed him a departing middle finger. His troubles grew as he realized that by leaving Veros unattended, he had given her the opportunity to free Ralia and was struggling with the coyote herself, the labrador lying dazed against the wall. Ralia, with no one to stop her, had picked up Veros’ gun.

  Another painful report caused everyone to stop and look, checking to see whose side had managed to get their paws on a gun. Ralia swept the pistol back and forth across the panting kidnappers. “It’s over. My friends and I are leaving. If any of you try to stop us, I will not hesitate to put a bullet in you.”

  The bear chuckled and started to take a step forward. “You don’t h—”

  He screamed in pain as Ralia shot him in the knee, sending him crashing to the floor, his blood mixing with the fox’s as he wailed. “I’m not fucking around here!” She motioned for Fyche and the others to leave. “If I were you, I’d focus on getting out of here before the cops show up, not on seeing how many bullets I have left.” Once everyone else was out, she followed, walking backwards with the pistol ready.

…

  As the rescue team spilled out of the warehouse with the rescued Moccans, they found the police just arriving on the scene, sent by Ralia’s parents. Everyone was taken into custody, the Moccans and the shot kidnappers being split off to receive immediate medical care. The rest were questioned for the next several hours after being triaged—there weren’t many serious or permanent injuries, but the Moccans all had hearing damage on top of their scratches and bruises; not even Kelsen, Niri, and Reorato’s voice equipment had been enough to protect them from multiple indoor gunshots.

  To their dismay, they eventually learned that Alexei was in the hospital, in critical condition. The police wouldn’t give them any further details until the questioning was over. Thankfully, they were released shortly after midday, as the evidence against the kidnappers was overwhelming, and it seemed at least some of the police involved had both ethics and backbone.

  The tourists headed back to the hotel with Donovan and Samet while Fyche, Ralia, Kelsen, and Niko made their way back to Ralia’s apartment, telling Veros and Ralia’s parents that they needed some time and space.

  Once they were alone, they collapsed onto the couch and let their emotions flow.

…

  Moments after sinking onto the couch’s armrest next to Kelsen, Niko started shaking, then gave way to full-on sobbing. His fellow Moccan put an arm around him, holding him while he struggled to get his breathing under control. “S-stupid,” he choked. “F-fucking absurd. I-I made it through th-the entire god-d-damn thing wi-without...”

  Fyche reached over to the two of them, but Niko flinched away. Kelsen shook his head sadly, and Fyche let his paw drop along with his gaze. “Sorry,” said Niko, rubbing his nose. “I didn’t mean...I’m just kind of shaken up right now...”

  Kelsen patted him gently. “It’s all right, dude. You don’t have to apologize for anything. That whole thing must have been terrifying. I’d probably be downright catatonic. I can’t believe this stuff always happens to you.”

  Glancing up at the pair, Fyche shrugged. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it. Only people I’m mad at are the fuckers that took you. Assign the blame where it belongs, right?”

  “Fuck!” Ralia shouted, drawing the attention of all three. She looked up from her phone. “You’re not going to fucking believe this—speaking of where blame belongs—that fucking asshole is already making posts on social media about what happened!”

  Kelsen and Niko looked at each other, confused. “Wait, what? Who? The—one of the kidnappers?”

  “No! That councilman we told you about, the one we covered before.”

  Niko shook his head. “He’s posting...about a xenophobically-inspired kidnapping...on social media? This is an actual popular politician in Doxen?”

  “Yeah. Exactly.”

  “Okay,” Kelsen said, shrugging. “So he posts some nothing fake apology. What’s the problem?”

  Ralia held her screen up to him, and he had to double take. “It’s not an apology,” she hissed. “He’s calling the entire thing a false flag operation by Moccan sympathizers. Saying it was staged to smear his supporters and make people feel bad for the ‘Moccan elite’ who are trying to take over the government.”

  Niko threw up his arms. “Smear his—I barely know who the fuck this guy is! I just wanted to visit my boyfriend!”

  “What the fuck do we even do about this?” asked Kelsen. “He name-dropped some of us in the post! How did he even get our info?!” He took a breath. “But like, it’s complete lies. Anyone can see that. Doesn’t this mean he just shot himself in the why are you shaking your head.”

  Ralia stood up, clenching her fists. “Because he didn’t. Tons of people are eating it up, and the rest are platforming it. Bringing in influencers and talking heads to debate it and explore ‘both sides’ of the issue!” She looked down at her paws, where her claws were digging into her palms. “I kept hoping we could just ignore it and it would go away, but no! There’s a ton of people in my own country, in my own city, who are not just turning to hate but embracing it! It’s disgusting! We talk about how much we want our happy interstellar family and for Moccs and Latia to cooperate, but the truth is, the bigots are almost right—it’s just the other way around. Moccs would be better off if they just left Latia alone. Everyone here is awful.”

  There was a tense silence for a few moments. Eventually, Kelsen tried to speak. “Ralia, you know that’s...not true...”

  “Yeah,” said Niko, though he spoke halfheartedly. “I’ve got proof there’s some real shitheads on Moccs too...it’s not just here.” He looked to Fyche, but the fox looked away.

  They lapsed back into silence for a time, before Kelsen spoke again. “Hey, we’ve had a hell of a day. Let’s get some sleep. Things will be better when we wake up.” No one argued against getting rest, and they fell asleep on the couch, all leaning against one another.