Chapter Six
Some hours after they left, Chang and several other men entered the room. They dragged Mike out of the cage, interrupting his exhausted half-sleep, and re-tied him and Davy in the same position they been the night before—back to back with ropes around their necks. “Well, this is lovely,” Davy growled after they left. “At least before we were a little more comfortable.”
“Davy,” Mike said, his voice oddly strained. “See . . . if you can reach back any.”
Davy stretched as far as he could. “Yes . . . some.”
“See if you can reach my fingers,” Mike said, stretching his bound hands out as far as he could.
Gently, fingers brushed his. “Is that you?”
Mike rolled his eyes. “Who else would it be?”
“Okay . . . I can reach you.”
Mike took a few breaths. “Now, I’m gonna lean back. When I do, see if you can reach the knots. It’ll only be for a couple seconds ‘cause the rope’s gonna be chokin’ me.”
“Wait.” Davy took a few breaths as well—centering himself.
“Ready?”
A pause, then Davy’s voice held that calm that meant he was completely focused. “Ready.”
“All right. Move fast.” Mike curled his back and thrust his hands out. The rope around his neck immediately tightened, closing off his air. He held as still as he could, listening to blood roaring in his ears louder each second as Davy fought to locate the knots.
“Breathe!” Davy barked out less than a moment later. “Try again in a bit!”
Mike straightened, gasping. “Any . . . luck?”
“A little . . . I found the knot—I know its shape now.”
Mike waited until his breathing was back to normal. “Ready t’go again?”
“Yes . . . let’s do this.”
Again Mike curled his back, letting the rope cut deeply as he held his hands out as far as he could.
This time he could feel Davy’s fingers fumbling, twisting . . . less than a minute later, “Breathe! I loosened it—test it out!”
Mike coughed as he wiggled forward once more—the sensation of total breathlessness was wiped away by the sudden joy of being able to turn his wrist back and forth, feeling the ropes starting to slide loose . . .
Davy waited, though where their feet barely touched Mike could feel the vibrations of the Tiger’s trembling.
Finally Mike freed his arm and pulled the ropes away, unbinding his neck. “I’m loose. Hang on, Davy . . . ”
“Hanging . . . ” The tension was once more in his voice. Davy hated being tied up—it reminded him too much of his recent misfortunes with Mistress.
Mike untied the crude noose and set to work on Davy’s wrists. “Think you can walk?”
“Just . . . get me outta these . . . I can walk!”
Mike pulled the ropes loose. “There. C’mon.”
Davy lurched to his feet in an almost uncontrolled movement.
Mike reached to steady him. “You okay?”
He nodded. “And I thought he was crackers before!”
“We’ll debate his sanity later,” Mike said, heading for the door. Davy followed wordlessly, eager for escape.
Mike opened the door, suppressing a chuckle at Dragonman’s arrogance—the door wasn’t even locked.
“Arrogant prick, isn’t he?” Davy practically purred.
Mike held up a finger as the tiptoed outside, moving silently down the corridor.
Flattening against walls, they could hear voices from another room, raised in shocked tones.
Mike waved his hand and pointed in the other direction, his fingers—making a “walking” motion—indicating the need for quick movement.
Davy nodded and made a ‘you lead’ motion.
Mike nodded and took point—they had just passed the room where they’d been held when shouts echoed down the hall. Davy breathed a curse and broke into a run. Mike followed, limping only slightly. When two of Dragonman’s henchman appeared ahead of them they couldn’t stop in time.
~~~~~
It was Peter’s idea to ride the bus from the stop where they’d found the shuriken to the next stop. As they raced back to the Pad to get money for the fares, hoping against hope that the late-night buses were running, he explained his reasoning to Micky. “With two men going unwillingly, they can’t have gone very far!”
“How do you know they were unwilling?” Micky asked.
Peter held up a shuriken. “This tells me. We guard these, remember? We’re never fully unarmed anymore.”
Micky nodded. “Okay. I just hope we’re going the right way.”
Peter sighed. “If not, we’ll go the other way. We’ll find them . . . we have to find them!”
Micky was following Peter out of the house when the phone rang. Peter doubled back and got it. “Yes?”
“Tork? It’s Honeywell. I received an urgent call from my assistant that you were in trouble.” Peter swallowed hard and the whole story spilled out in one ramble that reminded Micky of how he used to be before they were the Winds.
“All right,” Honeywell said smoothly. Apparently he’d caught every word. “I have five agents around that area; let me call them and I’ll get right back to you. You stay there, all right?”
Peter chewed his lip for a moment, considering. “All right—for now.”
“Tork, you and Dolenz stay put. Whoever took your friends may still be out there; no sense getting all four of you taken. We’ll help you find them,” Honeywell said, then hung up.
Peter stared at the phone for a moment before he lay it back in the cradle. “He’ll get right back to us. Told us to stay put.”
Micky groaned, pacing as he looked at the clock. This time Peter couldn’t be still, either. He paced as well, a hand rubbing the back of his neck every so often as she stared at the silent phone.
On to Chapter Seven
Back to Chapter Five
Back to Secrets and Lies Index
