Chapter Text
Chapter One - Observant
Cast:
Civilian
Håvard “Ace” Haugland
Grace “Dokkaebi” Nam
Maxim “Kapkan” Basuda
Jack “Pulse” Estrada
Tina Lin “Frost” Tsang
Location:
Mount Erymanthos, Greece
Rainbow Arena Facility, Greece
She was out of breath, and the cut on her arm was starting to really ache with the dirt and small pebbles ground into it. Her scraped knee was weaker now for sure. She brushed the muddied hair from her brow and trudged on as quietly as she could. That steep incline was more of a climb and she had slid back a number of times. Almost out of here. Almost safe!
Another few bangs and echoes sounded from the cave system behind her. She needed to hurry. She was starting to panic. Was the exit this way? Or was it one more right before the left? She stopped to try and recall, trying to look ahead down both paths.
Crunch.
She whipped around and there was a tall figure there.
“You look lost. Why don’t we find the rest of the team together!”
A quick bright smile shone from the face of the Norwegian man in front of her. The spot light from his head illuminated the tunnel when he clicked it on. She squinted but did not reply. A woman in a beanie came up behind him with a rifle in her hands. She looked at the man before realizing that he was talking to someone else. She turned to the wounded muddy woman in the path. The injured woman drew a knife from her sleeve. A small one, but present.
The Asian woman called out, “You don’t need that... We are not going to hurt you.” She gripped her rifle tighter.
The Nordic man called out, bargaining, “I am an EMT. I can help bandage your wounds if you disarm yourself. I promise! I’ll even throw in an autograph if you behave!”
“Ace, not helping.” The armed woman muttered.
“Lighten up, Dokk!” Ace tapped his headlamp, “She might be able to help us piece together what happened here! What is your name, miss?”
Dokkaebi rolled her eyes. The unnamed woman remained still, and silent, analyzing both of the people in front of her. They were both armed, heavily. She wouldn’t be able to take them on with just her knife. It was barely a letter opener.
“Miss?” Ace asked again while Dokkaebi whispered into her radio.
She tried to recall the path again, glancing over her left shoulder. She looked up the wall to a tiny sliver of light, not enough to illuminate the area. Not big enough for her to get out. Would she even be fast enough to get away? They said she might be useful. She hated being “useful”. Her knife was knocked from her hand from behind and she was put into a quick wrist lock. Damn these echoing tunnels. I can’t hear anything.
“No worry. I have her. We cleared out the remaining of the White Masks in the cave. We should go.” A thick accent sounded from over her right shoulder. Russian? Some country from around there. He let go of her wrist and grabbed her arm firmly above the elbow instead.
Another hand was placed on her left shoulder. A more familiar American accent from a man, agreeing with the Russian. “Let’s go.” They start to lead her down the path she came from, and she resisted. The American man looked to her and the Russian looked to him and then to her, still holding her by the upper arm. She winced from the pain and a small sound escaped her mouth.
Håvard steps forward, “Let me see your injuries. I will make it feel better.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a compact medical kit and a bottle of water. He waved the two men holding her away. He held them up to show her before he cracked open the bottle and soaked some gauze. If I wasn’t outnumbered, I wouldn’t let you touch me. Tenderly, he started to inspect and clean the wound. It stung, but the woman was more intent on listening to the others. She ignored the medical care, despite wanting nothing more than to pull away.
The other four people were standing together and whispering. They were very armed. Pistols, rifles, knives, and who knows what else.
“Has she said anything?”
“No.”
“Might be shock. Scared.”
“Possibly. She is injured…”
“And not to mention what she may have seen… what they did to her.”
Another woman emerged from the dark tunnels. She is wearing a familiar flag… Canada. Home. Was home.
She winces again as Håvard cleaned her wound. He wrapped some bandages around her forearm cut and tied it snug. Not much he could do for her knee in here. God, she hated strangers touching her. Why did he have to do that?
“That will hold you until we get back!” He said with a grin. “Now about that autogr…”
“Let’s move out,” the American man cut off the one called Ace.
“Agree,” replied the Russian.
What is this dynamic? Who are these people? It doesn’t matter. At least they treated her better than the last. She’ll keep being observant until she can figure out another escape. Maybe once her arm heals, it’ll be easier then.
She followed. She didn’t want to, but she followed.
A large dark vehicle sat haphazardly in the dirt road leading to the mountain. She was led to one of the back doors and was quickly, but thoroughly, searched. No more weapons. No cellphone, no wallet, no keys. Not much of anything really. The American man opened the door and helped her inside. She watched as he went back to talk to the other people. She sat there, motionless, hoping they would forget about her. The last woman to arrive, the Canadian, walked to the vehicle and entered from the opposite side.
“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay. We have you. You’re safe now.”
I doubt it , she thought and remained as emotionless as possible.
“We will take you back to the city, get you cleaned up. And then we’ll talk more. It’s not too far, actually.” The woman paused, concerned about not getting a response. “They call me Frost… What is your name?”
Silence.
The four others approached the vehicle and clambered in. The injured woman clicked on a seatbelt without a word. She won’t be talking now or any time soon, that’s for sure.
The vehicle pulls away. Who knows where these people are taking her. Some city. She stared out the window, attempting to map her way from the mountain to this… Whatever place that they’re going to. The towering mountain behind her would have been pretty if it weren’t for what was inside.
Oh well. She’ll maybe see its beauty in the future. She reminded herself that she needs to let go of trauma. It doesn't serve her.
The people in the vehicle seemed to want to talk but unsure on how to with this silent passenger. It was a sparse conversation for the few hours back to the building. Especially after the Russian fell asleep in the front passenger sleep and snored softly.
They passed buildings but never close enough to read the writing. Highways, side streets, rural areas, urban areas. She didn’t recognize any of it.
They pulled up to a garage door alongside an unlabelled facility. My favourite. Yay. There were a variety of vehicles inside: some military, some police, and some civilian. Again, she saw numerous countries and languages. It was strange. She would think it would be another branch of the White Masks with how international this is, but… the White Masks drop their nationality when they join. Were they smugglers? Traffickers? It would make sense. These types of vehicles would be easy to get across borders without many questions.
The vehicle rolled to a stop and Frost got out. The woman unbelted herself and slid to the side where Frost was waiting. She stepped out and stood awkwardly, timidly. A few members of the group exchanged glances when they stepped out of the vehicle.
Ace tapped his badge and opened the door leading into the building, motioning for her to enter. He smiled. She did not.
The Russian man gripped her by the upper arm again and led her inside. They are followed by the other people whispering “Was it wise to bring her here?” The interior of the facility was not brand new, but was still taken care of. It looked like it was once somewhere important, but was retrofitted for this… this… headquarters? Office? They turned the corner, right, after they passed a single intersection and passed a windowed room. Noted.
They opened a door and brought her inside. “Have a seats,” the Russian man said while gesturing to a table and chairs in the centre of the room. Along one side of the small room, mirrors. A small window with a metal grate opposite to that. The man left, the door clicked shut behind him.
She strolled over, checked to see if it locked behind him. It did. She walked the perimeter of the room, counter-clockwise, her fingers gliding along the painted cinder block walls. She reached the window and looked outside. A short field and then a tree line. Sprinting distance. The field had some lines painted onto it. A sports field maybe? It might be a longer sprint than she thought, then. She laced her fingers into the metal grate and pushed slightly. Sturdy. She continued her circle. Now at the mirrors, she held one of her fingernails up to the glass. No gap. One way mirror. She’s being watched.
She looked up to the corners of the room. Cameras. Definitely watched. Likely recorded too. She didn’t like that.
Not much she can do about it now. She sat at the table. And waited.