If there was anything deadly about the assignment, it was the very real chance of a slow, excruciating death. Slow, excruciating death by waiting, that is. That was all Mark found he was good for lately. Mark, wait here while I do this. Mark, wait here while we do that, he recited to himself. That was all he’d done for the past few days when assisting Heather or Finster. But he had to admit that it was better than mixing ingredients.
Finster had left him to “handle some things,” leaving Mark to wait in Rooke Pharmaceutical’s parking lot. He’d found a stick and was smacking the parking lot’s fence to fill the time.
When Mark couldn’t take any more and wanted to tear his hair out, Finster drove up in a red van. “Hop in!” he said. Mark gladly clambered in. “Sorry it took so long. Had to pick up some friends who offered to help.” He looked in the rearview mirror.
Mark turned around and saw two people bound, gagged, and blindfolded. One was a woman in a cherry-red business suit and the other was a man wearing a dirt-stained jumper. They struck a chord with Mark, as if he’d seen them before. He studied them more closely. They struggled against their bonds, their muffled screams silenced by the tape covering their mouths. Mark saw a logo on the man’s uniform: Penner’s Lawn Service.
The memory kicked Mark back as the van lurched forward. Lydia’s parents. He’d run into them at his high school orientation and on a couple of other occasions. There was no doubt about it.
“We were letting them lie low somewhere, but the police nearly ruined everything. Can’t have them wrecking the party, you know,” Finster said. “Speaking of which, I got some party favors for us. Check the glove compartment.”
Mark opened up the compartment and pulled out a stack of cheery, brightly painted masks. “Clown masks?” he asked. “What’s all this for?”
“You’ll see,” Finster said. “How about some tunes?” He turned the radio on to a station playing classic rock, cranked the music up to a deafening level, and sang along as they sped through the city. Mark was thankful they were in the van for less than half an hour. Finster pulled the van through a back alley and into a warehouse, where Heather held open the shutter doors. Mark could barely hear Heather screaming at Finster over the music as he parked the van inside.
“Did you even remember to plug their ears?” she asked, closing the heavy shutter doors once Finster was clear of them.
“Yes, yes,” he said, rolling out of his seat. He took off his tan coat and tossed it into the van. Like Heather, he was wearing a dark turtleneck and khaki slacks. Mark hopped out and stood beside him. “And I got the masks. And I was careful. Relax.”
“You always say that, but who is it that usually causes the plan to go awry? Who was it that tripped the alarm last time?”
“So I don’t have a delicate touch. Big deal,” he said. “Now, where do you want them?”
“Put them in the office,” Heather said, pointing at a room in the rear of the building, with windows allowing a view of the rest of the warehouse. Finster opened the van door and dragged Lydia’s parents out.
“What’s going on?” Mark asked. “Why did he kidnap Lydia’s parents? What are you guys planning to do?”
“We. It’s what we are planning to do,” Heather said, indicating Mark. “We’re planning to stage a robbery to draw out the BEP Division.”
“And Lydia’s parents? How are they involved?”
“They’re going to act as bait for us,” Finster said. “They were kind enough to volunteer.”
“Come off it, Finster. If you expect him to help, then we may as well just tell him.” She sighed and looked at Mark.
Her face held that somber expression again. The same one he’d witnessed in the elevator. It became unreadable again and she crossed her arms. “We’re going to try and capture one of the BEP agents and then exchange that agent for some of Lydia’s blood.”
So that was who they’d been discussing in Rooke’s office. “Why do you need her blood?” Mark asked.
“Rooke believes that her blood could be the key to replicating powers like hers and yours, seeing as he can’t get to your power directly,” she said. “We’ll also need her on hand, especially if the blood proves not to work and we need something else from her. Might even offer her a job if she’s willing.”
“Rooke is alright with this?” Mark already knew the answer.
“Nope,” Finster said. “For this mission, you’re working under Whyte. He’s the mastermind for this one. So try not to screw up. He doesn’t tolerate mistakes.” He laughed heartily until Heather elbowed him in the gut.
“But why take Lydia’s parents? Why not take hostages at the robbery or demand a ransom normally?” Mark asked.
“The BEP Division isn’t going to give us Lydia’s blood. They’ll send an agent first, like they always do. We plan to take whoever the BEP Division sends in via an exchange. Then we’ll cause a panic and escape in the ensuing chaos,” Heather said. “We had to make sure the BEP Division knew about the kidnapping as well so they would send an agent. That’s why we took them now. Can’t expect to wait at the robbery for days, now, can we? We’ll go over the finer points with you later.”
“Besides, we can’t take the risk of not getting a hostage when we start the robbery,” Finster said. He laid his chin on Heather’s shoulder, smiling and tilting his head like a small child. “So we’ll bring our own. As for why Lydia’s parents, I don’t know. Just felt right. Adds more spice to the situation, don’t you think?” Heather smacked his nose.
Mark looked at the office. He swished around some saliva in his mouth to eliminate the dry taste. “Are you. .. are you going to kill them?”
“No,” Heather said. “We’ll let them escape during the chaos. Hence the masks, so they can’t identify us. Try to stay out of sight over the next couple of days, Mark. We don’t need any more trouble than we already have.”
“Doesn’t really matter now,” Finster said. Cops are buzzing all over the place. We really rattled the hornet’s nest. Although I wouldn’t mind some of them snooping around.” He cracked his knuckles. “I could use the exercise. It’s getting pretty dull around here.” He bounced on the balls of his feet, jabbing at the air.
Mark grinned halfheartedly. Internally, he was scared out of his wits. His arms clamped to his sides and his throat felt incredibly tight. Never before had he so much desired to be at home, whether his father was there or not.
Halfway Heroes Page 49
