by Noah Harris
“Jared, this is Mr. Xerxes, and his sister, Mrs. Druje.” Mr. Finley introduced them. Jared nodded slightly, but did not shake their hands as he normally would. Something about these two was off. They had a very odd manner from the second they set foot in the room. Maybe it was Nick’s shifter cells in him, but Jared didn’t like these people. Mr. Xerxes removed grey leather gloves from his hand and set them thoughtfully on the table, as if he owned it.
“Mr. Finley, I must say your handling of this whole situation has been very poor,” his opening words rang out. He gestured to Jared with a sideways, dismissive wave of his hand. “And to negotiate for the boy? That goes against all of our rules, and I am certain that you know that. Which means sir, that you deliberately flouted the rules, without regard as to how it might impact the greater organization.”
“There are things you don’t know,” Mr. Finley defended. “I still have the female creature, for instance. I had a broader plan, if you will just permit me to review it for you fully, I am sure the logic will become clear.”
“Rules are there for a reason,” Mrs. Druje added. “There can be no excuse for breaking them. We know you take so much power that you have begun to be able to shift somewhat yourself. The purpose of it is supplemental strength—to beat them. If we start shifting ourselves, Mr. Finley, what is the difference between us and them? Also, we know about the female-appearing creature. We have already taken it into custody from your, or rather—the organization’s—warehouse. We are merely here to relay that there can be no compromise on the rules.”
She glanced at one of the body guards, and in one swift motion, he removed his revolver and shot Mr. Finley in the head. He fell over with a thud, and blood slowly began to run off the table and onto the white marble floor beneath his previously-tapping feet. Jared watched in horror, but was too shocked to move. A guard grabbed him before he could fully understand what was happening, and they dragged him from the room. Jared looked back over his shoulder to see his father lying there. A Finley security guard entered the room, and was promptly shot as well. He presumed the Xerxes security guard had fired the second shot, though he did not see it. Just before they placed a bag over his head, Jared saw Forrester enter the conference room in horror, rushing to check his father’s pulse. The door closed, and he felt them sweep him through the entry hall so fast that his feet only occasionally touched the floor. He felt them navigate around the large, circular entry hall table and out the front door, where he could feel a slight breeze and hear the trees rustling before he was thrown into a vehicle and told not to move. He heard the doors lock, the engine start, and then they sped away.
The bag was tied onto his head, but Jared’s hands were free, so he immediately began trying to remove it. Feeling all around it, there didn’t seem to be a tie, or a zipper. He tried just pulling straight up, but it strangled at his throat and stretched his chin, but it did not budge. Jared took clumps of the fabric in each hand and tried to tear the bag in opposite directions, hoping to split the material down the middle. It seemed so thick and tightly woven, almost like a canvas, but breathable, that breaking it apart soon seemed hopeless. Once they had turned out the front gate, he shifted his focus instead to estimating where they were by the number and length of turns. There wasn’t any interstate noise, so they were staying on side roads so far. After a while he lost count, and realized it was impossible to tell where they were. He estimated they had slowed down to about sixty miles per hour, so they weren’t in as much of a rush.
Jared felt around the interior of the car. It had larger-than-average leather seats, and excessive leg room. A town car or maybe a limo. He pulled at the door handles, and tried any buttons he could feel, but the child locks were engaged. Laying his back on the car seat, he kicked at the window repeatedly with both feet. After three attempts with no effect, he completed a fourth with all the force in his body, and his ankle felt an explosion of pain. He had re-injured it, as it was not yet fully healed, though he had been dancing on it with only minimal care. He stopped kicking and rested face-up towards the ceiling, thinking of what to do next. He wished he’d had the time, or presence of mind, to grab his phone from the table. The table—the table where his father had slumped after being shot dead. He still couldn’t believe it. His father was gone.
Jared felt the car slowing down, and then coming to a stop. Perhaps they were at a stop light. He knew the windows were darkened, but began screaming anyway.
“Help! Help!” he shouted, and then again louder. “Help! I’m Jared Finley, I’ve been abducted!” There was a quick sound of the door swinging open, and then someone clocked him on the head.
“No one can hear you, Mr. Finley. We are far away from people, I can assure you,” the voice relayed. They dragged him out with force, and began shuffling him across what felt like a parking lot, or a very large, paved driveway. From the feel of his escort, Jared judged it to be the shorter of the two bodyguards that were present in his father’s conference room. They shoved him down to a kneeling position on the ground, and for a while he thought they might shoot him in the head, but as an afterthought he realized that, if they had wanted to kill him, they could have easily shot him back there with his father, so he knelt quietly, listening for anything that might be helpful.
Two other vehicles soon pulled up. He heard the men taking something out of them—bags, maybe? Next, Jared heard the voice of Mr. Xerxes, though he could not fully discern what he was saying, and the click-clack of Mrs. Druje’s excessively high heels. Jared decided these people must think he knew something, or had some measure of control over his father’s dealings. Maybe if they knew he was innocent…
“Look, I didn’t even know what my father was doing. I just found out about it yesterday. I’m just a regular college guy. I don’t want any part of your world, and I don’t know who you are. You can just let me go. I’ll tell the police I was in my apartment, that I didn’t see anything,” Jared said loudly, hoping they could hear him from that distance. No response. He continued, “I didn’t even know these things, er, non-humans as you call them. I didn’t even know they existed until yesterday, either. I can’t be of any use to you.”
“Shut up.” a guard whispered in his ear.
“You better hope you can be of use to us, Mr. Finley,” Xerxes voice came through. Jared hung his head.
“I’m not Mr. Finley, my father was,” he said, followed by a long pause.
“Jared, then. If there is no use for you, we have no reason to keep you,” threatened Xerxes.
“So, it doesn’t matter if I’m innocent. That I didn’t break any of your rules. You hold me accountable when I’ve done nothing wrong?”
Xerxes leaned right into Jared’s face and spoke to the hooded head before him with disdain. “You may not have known about our rules, but you certainly broke them. You have broken the most cardinal of rules, and we know he will come for you. JA-RED.” He said his name tauntingly, in a sing-song fashion, which seemed a little crazy.
“He won’t,” Jared said, but in his heart, he knew he would.
Back at the Finley estate, Forrester made a call using Jared’s phone. When Nick’s phone rang, and he saw on the display it was Jared, his heart leapt at the confirmation that he had made it out okay.
“Jared! I’m so glad you’re okay! Are you at home?” Nick answered the phone more cheerfully than usual. His cheer was short-lived.
“Sir, this is Forrester, from the Finley estate. We met when you were here recently?” Forrester began, hoping he might remember him. He was so used to being ignored by Mr. Finley’s super-elite friends; it didn’t occur to him that the young man had paid much attention.
“Forrester, of course I remember. Did Jared make it home okay? You have his phone. Oh, God, did he catch one of those bullets?” Every thought in Nick’s head poured out as his mind raced.
“He wasn’t shot,” Forrester affirmed. “He made it home okay, but they came for him. They took him, sir. I mean, they shot Mr. Finley s
enior, and they took Jared.”
The color drained from Nick’s face, and he could hear his blood pumping in his ears.
“Who, Forrester?”
“Associates of Mr. Finley’s. They’ve never been here before, though I know he has known them for years.”
“Put him on the phone,” implored Nick.
“He’s dead, sir. The shot was to the head.” Forrester stood over the dead, still bleeding body as he made the call.
“I’ll be right there,” Nick reported.
“I can’t wait much longer to call the police, sir. They will wonder. Come to Jared’s apartment, not the front door. I’ll check it periodically, and will only be able to get away for a few minutes, so wait until I arrive.” He paused, staring at the man who had employed him for over two decades. “I didn’t know who else to call, given the… circumstances.”
“No, I’m glad you called. Thank you, Forrester. I’ll be right there.” Nick hung up, and turned to the others.
“Jared’s been taken.” he reported.
Jared felt himself pulled up by both arms as he was lifted from his knees back to his feet. They marched forward, then up some tall, thin, metal steps. Feeling carpet beneath his feet, Jared was placed in a smallish, leather chair with short arm rests. He shuffled his feet, and felt them slide on the carpet beneath him, indicating a smooth quality. A few others shuffled nearby, but he felt them pass by him, then back in the opposite direction, then back by him again. What were they doing? Preparing something? His mind listened to a familiar set of clicks and just as he was about to put two and two together, he heard the jet engine roar. They were on a plane!
“Where are you taking me?” he shouted into the void. No one answered. He didn’t even know if anyone was around other than the staff. Xerxes and Druje didn’t fly with the cargo, apparently. The engines gradually grew louder, and Jared could hear the soft motors of wing flaps being tested. Eventually he heard the sound of the entry door closing and latching, plus he felt the cessation of any fresh air, indicated it was time for take-off. The plane moved forward very slowly, less than five miles per hour, and made a right turn. They must have started out right at the hangar, Jared reasoned, which meant it was a private airfield. Private manifests, no record of him—great. He would disappear into thin air and no one would know. No FBI busting in the door to save him. At least they thought they needed him—for now, anyway. So, he could feel reasonably assured they wouldn’t throw him out of the plane at 38,000 feet. What a comfort.
Jared’s thoughts turned to the day he spent with Nick. Watching him turn into a bird, he thought he had never seen anything more magnificent. What a fine talent that would be right now. Turn into something else, get out of here, and fly away. After continuing at the slow pace, they quickly accelerated, faster than would have been customary on a commercial airline. Must be a short runway, Jared continued to reason. Twenty more seconds and he felt the nose of the plane pull up, and the wheels left the tarmac. Now, Jared was fully lost—gone to where no one could find him. Not even Nick, he thought.
18
“Jared’s been taken.” Nick said to the others, and began pulling his gear together.
“Taken? Who has him?” Isda inquired.
“I dunno, some people his dad knows,” Nick answered.
“Let his dad deal with it then,” she offered.
“His dad’s dead. They shot him in the head, right in front of Jared,” Nick said, putting on his shoes quickly.
“Good riddance,” Gideon added.
“Maybe, but Jared’s been taken. I’m going to the Finley estate.”
“That has to be a trap,” Michael chided. “We can’t go there. I can’t put the team in danger, at least wait a bit. Once I’m finished speaking with the Wisdom, we could go and cover you from outside at least.”
“I didn’t ask you to go,” Nick said tersely. “And I’m not waiting. I’m going now.”
“You go now and you’re on your own.” Michael replied.
“Fine. It’s not like I’m a full member of the pack yet, anyway.” He turned on his heel and left. He chose to drive, so he could have items he needed and to preserve his energy, in case he needed it. He probably was running into a trap, but he couldn’t just do nothing.
Nick drove the highway, at first barreling way over the speed limit, and then he slowed down to about ten miles over the limit, hopefully just slow enough that he wouldn’t get pulled over. He took the exit nearest the Finley estate, and quickly became annoyed by the rolling hills. First of all, they weren’t really ‘hills,’ as the state is nearly completely flat, but more like constructed golf course mounds, to give the illusion of rolling hills. Overly green by extensive watering, even during water restriction, the whole area smacked of privilege. Nick descended one winding road, then another, until he reached the road abutting the rear stone wall to the Finley estate, the one he and Jared had jumped from on the day they fled his father.
Once out of the car Nick turned into his eagle self and followed the now-familiar route across the creek, up the zip-line path, landing on Jared’s apartment patio again. He returned to human form, with his pseudo-clothes covering activated in his cells, and tried the sliding door. It was unlocked. Forrester had left it that way for him, he assumed, but he was still wary of the possibility of a trap as he entered. He heard some people moving in distant parts of the house, but couldn’t hear the activity or the conversation. It was actually a team of police officers dealing with the crime scene down the hall, and Forrester was doing his best to get away. Nick paced the room, circling the coffee table, tapping his hands nervously along the bar, for what seemed like an eternity, before he finally heard the front door unlock and Forrester entered, closing it quickly behind him.
He withdrew a folded manila envelope from his jacket pocket and handed it to Nick, who opened it immediately.
“This is all I know about them, sir,” Forrester began. Nick was tempted to ask him to stop calling him ‘sir,’ but it seemed trivial at a time like this. The man was clearly beside himself at the death of his long-time employer. Nick flipped through the contents to see some printouts with their names, some public clippings about business dealings, and a few pictures, some were the glossy, public-relations type images from corporate websites, and the others were clearly printed from the internal CCTV security camera feeds within the Finley estate. Nick saw Mr. Finley’s dead body on the conference room floor, and Xerxes and Druje were in the frame clearly. Nick could only see the back of Jared’s head, but his arms were up as if to somehow stop them.
“No addresses, nothing else?” Nick asked.
“That’s it, for now,” Forrester reported. “Our security team never had reason to search too hard, since these people were not enemies of Mr. Finley. Or, not that he knew.” Forrester fought back tears, “But, they are looking now. I will call you with anything further if it is useful. I have to get back.”
Forrester looked at the door nervously, knowing the police would be missing him if he waited too long.
“Why did they take Jared?” Nick asked as Forrester approached the door.
“I wish I knew,” he replied, and then he was gone.
Nick zip-lined out, since security knew he was there already anyway. Once he was behind the tree line, he shifted, and carried the manila folder in his beak the short distance to the car. He was glad it was short, since he hadn’t attempted that amount of weight before. It was awkward. When he returned to the car, there was a message from Michael.
“Nick, call me. I know we can’t be there, but we may still be able to help. Isda had an idea. Call,” Michael’s voice message relayed.
Nick called in and reported what he found out from Forrester, which they agreed was not much to go on, other than the identities of who had taken Jared. Michael had heard of Xerxes and Druje in passing, but didn’t know much about them. He had never heard anything to the effect that they might be higher up than Finley. He had always been told that Finle
y was the top, but he was just a pack leader. He wasn’t intelligence, and he wasn’t Wisdom leadership, so they may have withheld things. One call could find that out. Michael told Nick he would check with the intelligence team to see what they knew, and if they had any idea on where they might have taken Jared. Meanwhile, he passed Nick off to Isda to relay her idea.
Isda informed Nick that since he had used his own cells to heal Jared, and Jared still had them, he should be able to use that to locate him. It was possible. Shifters could always reconnect with their own cells, to collect them if needed, but since Nick was brand new at it, it may be difficult, depending on the distance. It made Nick wish that this was something they had already covered in training. He could more fully appreciate Michael’s point about going into battle without full capabilities. It made everything harder and, in that moment, he would have given anything to already have the skill to easily locate Jared. Instead, he’d have to hope he could manage it the hard way.
On the phone, and with Gideon sleeping nearby, Isda talked Nick through the process.
“It’s kind of like a guided meditation,” she informed, hoping that encouraged him.
“Well, that’s a huge help. I’ve never done that before,” he reported.
She continued describing the process, encouraging him to focus, imagine his cells, could he feel their vibration? Um, no. She shifted tactics and told him to try, instead of imagining where they were, to envision them returning from wherever they were, back to him, floating back into his body. She assured him they couldn’t actually be retrieved remotely; he had to be there in person, making contact, in order to transmit the cells back inside him, but imagining them returning made their call louder. For some reason, he saw the Eiffel tower in his head. Paris?
“How the hell am I supposed to get there? I can’t flap my wings to Paris, and I still can’t be ether for longer than four or five minutes.”
