Bear in Mind

by Kate Rudolph

  “She held you at gunpoint!” Morse might as well have not been in the room, and he was keeping as quiet as a mouse while she and Derek worked this out.

  “But she didn't hurt me.” Ruth was a machine when it came to her missions. If she’d truly wanted to keep Sandra in place, there were plenty of things that she could have done to incapacitate her without permanently damaging her. Most of them would have hurt. A lot.

  “Gun!” Derek didn’t even bother to make it a question or objection.

  Sandra patted him once on the arm and stood. “I'm not saying we approach her. But we can search her room.” Maybe there would be a clue as to why Ruth had come and what she had against the Sector. It was worth a shot.

  “Is that smart?” From someone else, Sandra would have felt challenged, but from Derek it seemed like he really just wanted to help her work through this. He was concerned for her safety, but he wouldn’t smother her.

  And Sandra was no fool. “If Morse keeps an eye out.” He’d have a reason to be at the hotel and he knew what the occupant of the room looked like. Sandra would bet that he and Derek had worked together before. “And,” she added, anticipating the complication before it could take them over, “I’m lead on the op. No more pissing contests.” The tension in the air had been thick when she walked in the room. Now it was gone. But she almost suspected that Derek kept touching her to mark his claim in front of Morse. She would have objected if she didn’t love the thought of Derek claiming her.

  Again.

  But that was for later. Right now they had work to do.

  Morse clapped his hands together and grinned. “I love hijinks.” Sandra and Derek shared a glance. She hoped the hijinks were worth it.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The hotel was what Sandra had expected. It was a squat, two-story building, wrapped around a parking lot. Morse had gone on ahead to scout the place out. Sandra didn’t know which of the dozen cars in the lot belonged to him, and she couldn’t tell if Ruth was using any of the others. The cars ran the gamut from barely holding together to sturdy and new-ish. Nothing was brand new and there were no high-end vehicles. This motel clearly catered to travelers and people living on a budget.

  It was a great place to lie low.

  Derek said goodbye to Morse and slid his phone into his pocket. “She’s in room 214. Checked in under the name Sarah Brown.”

  Sandra snorted, “Yeah that could be her.” There had to be thousands of women with that name in the US. And Brown was a better fake name than Smith or Jones, fewer people suspected the deception.

  Derek pulled in to a parking space near the far end of the building. It hadn’t been visible from the highway, but there was a small driveway that led to another road behind the hotel. “Did Morse say if she requested this room?”

  “No, do you want me to check?” He turned the car off and undid his seatbelt.

  Sandra did the same. “No, we’re just wasting time.” If Ruth was staying here, there was no doubt that she’d angled for room 214 or one of its neighbors. It sat as far away from the front desk as possible and gave her access to a back entrance. There were no security cameras in sight and even though they were on a highway, the traffic was sparse. This was the perfect place to hide, at least temporarily. If Ruth stayed longer than a few days, no doubt someone would start to notice her. That was the drawback of out of the way places. Townsfolk were always curious.

  Sandra led the way up the stairs. Room 214 was the second door from the end of the staircase. There was a big window with the blinds shut tight beside the door. After listening for a moment, Sandra was satisfied that no one was inside. She took the master key that Morse had given them and slid it into the lock. She opened the door carefully, mindful that Ruth could have set a trap. The Do Not Disturb sign on the handle was evidence enough that they were supposed to keep out.

  But there was no trap on the door, and no other obstacles to entry. They stepped into the room and Derek closed the door behind him. He reached for the light, but Sandra covered his hand with her own. “It makes us more visible. Leave it off.” It wasn’t dark and Sandra would bet that Derek had some sort of enhanced vision.

  The room was pristine, the bed made, closet door closed, remote sitting beside the TV rather than next to one of the two queen beds. It looked like no one had stayed here the night before.

  “Do you think Morse gave us the wrong room?” asked Derek. He crossed the room, all the way past the second bed and turned to face her.

  Sandra shook her head, she wasn’t sure. “Check the closet.”

  He opened the mirrored door to reveal two shirts hanging on hangers and a small, zipped suitcase. “Are you this clean?” He joked.

  Sandra rolled her eyes. “You don’t make a mess when you might have to run at any minute.”

  They split up the room. Sandra covered the furniture and beds, while Derek examined the closet and the bathroom. She bit her tongue to keep from calling out suggestions of places to look. If he didn’t find them, she’d take a peek when she was done. While she doubted she’d find anything, she searched the bedside drawers first. Besides a bible and a laminated sheet of paper with a list of restaurants, it was empty. The second drawer gave her nothing.

  She got down on the floor and said a little prayer that Morse’s mother kept the place clean. She hated hotels, hated not knowing who had slept in her bed the night before. Even in the dim light, she could see clear under the bed. There was nothing hiding.

  Sandra almost tore the sheets back, but she decided to save it for last. He carefully lifted up the corner of the bed to see if anything was stashed there. Nothing again.

  The TV sat on a dresser and those drawers were just as empty as the ones beside the bed. Ruth knew what she was doing. Seeing the room this empty, Sandra was nearly convinced that Ruth had been the one to rent this room. Normal people didn’t go to such lengths to hide their presence.

  She did find a button beside the TV. Sandra picked it up when she noticed it had no holes. At first she thought it was just a black bead, but then a faint red light blinked at her. Sandra slammed the button back down on the table.

  “We’ve got to go, Derek. Now!” They were screwed. That was a camera, and it could be sending a live feed directly to Ruth, wherever she was. She could already be on her way to face them. And Sandra wasn’t looking forward to facing off against her again. Not when she didn’t know what Ruth wanted.

  Derek didn’t hesitate. He followed her out, hustling out of the room and pausing only long enough to lock the door behind them. “What’s up?” He asked.

  “Camera. Call Morse and tell him to get out of here.” He was back at the office and in as much danger as she and Derek. Sandra heard tires screeching, but she didn’t see the car.

  Then three things happened at once.

  1. There was a crash behind her as something very big hit Derek’s car.

  2. She made it to the bottom of the stairs and her vision went black and she felt like she was being choked as a black bag came down over her head.

  3. There was a prick at her shoulder and the last thing she heard was Derek’s roar.

  Rage overtook Derek and his vision went red. Sandra was surrounded, and when he saw the needle sink into her arm, he roared. The sound shook the stairs and he launched himself off towards one of the attackers, tackling him down to the ground and pummeling him with naked fists.

  All he could focus on was the feel of his knuckles hitting the soft flesh, feeling it rupture and tasting the scent of blood in the air from the split skin. Distantly, he heard the sound of tires squealing, but the man below him was trying feebly to fight back and Derek wouldn’t let him.

  No one got to hurt Sandra, not without paying dearly.

  The man cried weakly, breath wheezing out. He probably had at least one broken rib. Good.

  There was never a moment where it was an actual fight. Derek had the upper hand from the beginning and he never let up. Only after the man’s eyes rolled back
into his head and he went limp, the arms that had been trying to block his face falling to this side, did Derek pause.

  He looked up, careful to keep a knee on the man’s side so that he couldn’t move. The man wasn’t dead, and if Derek was kind, he’d survive the day. The car was gone. Derek couldn’t remember what it looked like, everything had happened so fast. His only recollection was that it was a car, not a truck, and that it was dark – perhaps green or blue.

  Footsteps beat against the asphalt of the parking lot and Derek jerked around, his teeth bared. But it was Morse, jogging towards him, wearing a gray hoodie and picking up speed once he spied that Derek had taken out one of the culprits.

  “What the hell happened?” he asked, looking down at the bleeding man on the ground and then back up, probably looking for Sandra.

  Derek needed to take a minute before he could get anything out besides a growl. “Four men tried to take Sandra. Caught this one.” Now that he was no longer pummeling him, Derek took a second to see if he recognized the man. If he was human, he was probably in his thirties. Short black hair, Asian, with relatively dark skin. He wore a suit, tailored to give him a decent range of motion, but there was nothing remarkable about him. And Derek had never seen him before.

  So what did this guy and his friends want with Sandra?

  “You sure—” Morse didn’t finish his sentence. He switched gears, “We need to get him out of sight before we have company.” They were bears, the thought of calling the authorities never occurred to either of them. And if Morse had suggested it, Derek would have fought him. The cops couldn’t get Sandra back in time.

  Derek picked the man up carefully, not out of a concern for his well-being, but because this man needed to survive to be questioned. He knew where they would take Sandra.

  Morse opened up one of the vacant rooms and Derek followed him in. Just as Derek was about to dump him on the bed, Morse cried out, “Wait!”

  Derek froze, the man dangling limply in his arms. “What?”

  “Put him in the bathroom. It will be easier to clean.” Morse was already opening the door for him and turning on the light. He didn’t turn on the light to the main bedroom. Had he known that or learned it from someone like Sandra? Morse had just about as much experience with this kind of shit as Derek. Morse had been a solider once, but not a spy.

  But Derek was highly motivated, and Morse was a freaking genius. Between the two of them, they’d figure something out.

  Once they had the unconscious man in the tub, Morse started asking questions. He’d had the presence of mind to wait until they were out of imminent danger of discovery by a passing citizen. “Did you get a look at the car? Was that Ruth chick with them?”

  Derek shook his head. “I saw four guys. I don’t know what kind of car and I think they were all men. They put a bag over Sandra’s head like some freaking spy movie.”

  “Are you okay?” Morse said it gently, like he wasn’t talking about Derek’s physical well-being.

  “No,” Derek replied, “But I’m uninjured.”

  “Going berserk isn’t going to help your girl.” Morse said it like Derek didn’t already know. Berserk wasn’t just a figure of speech among bears. When they became too emotional, too angry, they snapped and destroyed everything in sight until they passed out or until their mates could snap them out of it. And sometimes it got so bad that the mate didn’t make it out alive.

  “I’m pissed,” Derek bit out. “Not psychotic.” If those assholes did anything to harm Sandra, he’d destroy every last one of them. But he would do it on his own terms, not in an indiscriminate rage.

  There was a moan from the bathroom. It was incredibly pained.

  Good.

  “You should go get some cleaning supplies,” Derek told Morse. “I’m going to ask this bastard a few questions.”

  Morse put a hand on his shoulder, “Don’t... just don’t...” he struggled to find the words. “Don’t destroy yourself. And don’t do anything you can’t live with tomorrow.” He stood and walked to the door. Before he left, he said, “I’ll be back in five minutes.”

  Derek nodded. There was no time to waste.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Sandra wasn’t out for long. It was a curious quirk of her biology that drugs tended to wear off quickly. She had no clue if it was because of her other ability, but she was thankful for it now.

  She was lying on the floor of a car, in the back seat. She could tell because of the hump in the middle of the floor. Her hands were bound so tight that it cut off circulation, and her feet were tied up as well. A piece of tape covered her mouth and the bag was still over her head.

  Sandra kept still, not wanting them to know that she’d woken up. She could feel someone’s calves pressing up against her legs and she knew the moment she started moving, they’d drug her again. Instead, she listened.

  Boss isn’t going to be happy about Paul.

  Shouldn’t have left a witness.

  Should have stayed at the house.

  Derek was alive and he had seen her get snatched. All he had to do was call the cops and the entire county would come down on these guys. Even better if he figured out how to get in touch with the Sector, but that was a long shot by anyone’s standard.

  She focused on the thoughts coming from the passenger seat. They were more organized than the other two men in the car and she might get an idea of where they were going if she dug enough. She had to be careful. As she’d seen with both Derek and Morse, when she pushed too hard, she could give someone a headache. She didn’t want to give herself away.

  So Sandra moved slowly, letting her consciousness brush up against the passenger. James Bander, male, thirty-two, former Army, one tour in Afghanistan. He was second in command behind a Belgian man that was back at their base. Just by picking that up, Sandra knew he’d received no training in how to disguise his thoughts. It was all on the surface, just like sweeping dust off of a shelf.

  He associated thoughts of his boss with fear and respect, but there was also an air of mystery. He’d never seen the boss’s face.

  Brilliant.

  They were taking her to an abandoned farm about half an hour down the highway. Except now the farm wasn’t so abandoned. A team of eight would meet them there. And though James didn’t know what they planned to do with her, he knew that his next assignment was to torch her property and plant a body matching her build.

  So even if they didn’t plan to kill her, they didn’t mean for Sandra to ever return home.

  What the hell?

  The thought slammed into her from all sides as the car slowed. It maneuvered around an unknown object and then Sandra was thrown into the seat as they hit something.

  She wished she could see so that she could tell what was going on.

  Both the driver and front passenger doors opened and two of the car’s occupants stepped out to investigate whatever was going on outside.

  Assailant at ten o’clock! Jesus Christ, what is that thing?

  Was it Derek? He couldn’t have caught up to them so quickly, not without a trail. Giving up on playing dead, she started working on her bonds. The man sitting over her dug his foot into her side until she stopped moving.

  The thoughts of the two men cut off abruptly, and it went eerily silent.

  I’m here to help, I’m here to help, I’m here to help.

  Ruth’s thoughts came in loud and clear. The door jerked open and the man was dragged out. There was a brief struggle before his own thoughts went quiet.

  “No funny business this time,” Ruth said as she pulled the bag off of Sandra’s head. Ruth’s hair was sticking up as if she’d just touched something full of static electricity and her eyes were glassy, pupils dilated.

  Sandra nodded and Ruth tore the tape off of her mouth. “Who are these guys?”

  “Turn over.” Sandra did so that Ruth could work on the knots at her hands. “They’re why I came here. This is what the Sector didn’t warn you about.” She se
nt a spark through the rope and Sandra smelled smoke before the strands literally disintegrated off of her wrists. Another spark took care of the bonds at her feet.

  Sandra sat up. Ruth stood in the doorway, blocking her escape. “Are the men dead?” she asked.

  Ruth shook her head. “No, it’s not sanctioned.”

  Sandra had to laugh even if it was inappropriate. “Didn’t think you cared about that anymore.” Why would Ruth still be following regulations if she’d deserted? “This isn’t some undercover op, is it?” The Sector loved to work in the shadows, Sandra wouldn’t put it past them to make everyone believed that Ruth had betrayed them when the opposite was true.

  Ruth looked behind her at the men lying in the middle of the road. “We’ve got to go before they wake up and call for help.” She said nothing about whether she was working undercover.

  Unlike the men who’d taken her, Ruth knew how to shield her thoughts. It didn’t mean that Sandra was incapable of hearing what she was thinking, but rather that Ruth knew how to arrange her thoughts to keep private information out of Sandra’s hands. Most of the Sector used those techniques. After all, Sandra wasn’t the only mind reader in the world.

  Passively reading Ruth wouldn’t give her answers. Her options were thus: take the time to read Ruth’s mind in depth and learn her secrets. It would give her the information she needed, but she’d lose any faith Ruth had placed in her. Or, she could trust Ruth and work with her. Her final option was to pretend to trust Ruth until she had an opportunity to escape.

  It had worked before, but Sandra was done running. She’d worked for years to hone her instincts and she knew Ruth well enough to make a judgment call. Trust was essential for a team to function. And the guys that Ruth had hurt were not alone. Ruth knew about them and she said she was there to help Sandra.

  So option two it was.

  Sandra scooted towards Ruth and crawled out of the car. She knelt before the guy who’d fallen just outside the door. He was leaning against the vehicle. She reached into his jacket pocket and grabbed his phone, slamming it to the ground then stepping on it until it cracked into pieces. She turned to Ruth. “I’ll handle their phones, you fry the car. I’ve got some friends you need to meet. Then you’re going to explain what the hell is going on.”