The Squad

I held my breath and waited until she was close enough, never taking my eyes off my target. It was too dark in here, even with the moonlight coming through the broken window to see much of anything. All I knew for sure is that she was female and that her scent had infiltrated every part of me from the moment I stepped into the old run-down building.

As soon as she was mere inches from my face with her knife, ready to strike, I reached out and tapped her temple with my fist. I caught her when she fell, her body going limp in my arms. I grabbed the Maglite from my hip and shone it around the room, finding the first blade I’d knocked out of her hand. She still had ahold of the other two, which I took from her before placing all three in the backpack I found in the corner.

I left the sleeping bag that looked like it had seen better days and turned to leave the room. She should be out for at least an hour, but I wanted to be long gone from here by then. I started to throw her over my shoulder in a fireman’s hold but ended up for some reason cradling her against my chest with the backpack, which I’m sure held all of her earthly possessions slung over my shoulder.

Outside the night air washed over me, and I was able to breathe easy again. Inside the building, her scent had wreaked havoc on my senses, and though it wasn’t much better now with me holding her this close, at least the cool air was giving me a break.

The SUV slid to a stop in front of me just as I made it to the sidewalk. Creed got out and opened the backdoor, and I slid in, still holding her safely in my arms. I was trying hard not to breathe her in and embarrass myself. “That is definitely a female, look at all that hair.”

Both men turned in their seats to look. Her hair had come undone during the fight and now covered her face and trailed down to the floor of the vehicle. It was a soft, shiny black that was straight as a pin until the last six or so inches, which had a kind of bouncy wave-like thing going on. “Turn around!” My order startled both of them, but they just laughed and did what I said.

I held her possessively not quite comfortable with the closeness of both men in the confines of the car. My basic instincts were kicking in, and it was all I could do to sit still and not jump out of the moving vehicle and run the rest of the way. Even my thoughts seemed to no longer be under my control, and I had a sneaky suspicion that I was in a world of shit.

A phone rang in the silence, jarring me from my musings, but it wasn’t mine, and it wasn’t either of theirs. Turns out, it was coming from the dashboard, but there was no handset and nothing to show that there was a phone there. Creed reached out and pressed a button, and Mancini’s face popped up on a screen as Law drove off. I’m not sure when or why those two decided to switch up.

“You have her!”

“Yep. At least we think it’s a her, Law, and I haven’t been able to see much of anything except for a river fall of hair. Our boy is keeping her close to the vest, so to speak.” There was teasing laughter in his voice.

“Press the button on the console, Creed.” He did as asked, and it slid away to reveal some kind of device that was hidden there.

“Put her hand flat on there…”

“Why?” I interrupted, holding her even closer, daring anyone to do shit to her. My baby! Fuck!

“So I can read her prints son. We need to know who she is. Did you knock her out?”

“I had to. Somebody taught her a deadly mix of Krav Maga and Taekkyon.” All three men seemed to go on alert, and the two in front looked back at us.

“Eyes…front.” Now they both laughed out loud, and even Mancini snickered. “Fine, I’ll put her hand on that thing.” I found her tiny hand and marveled that something so small could wield a blade with such dexterity. As soon as her fingers touched the smooth flat silver surface, it lit up like a Xmas tree.

On the dashboard, another screen came up beneath the first, and what looked like faces started flashing by. It stopped what seemed like two minutes later, and there was a picture of a very young girl there. She couldn’t be more than five or six. “Roxanna Carmichael. Age twenty-three.” Mancini’s voice intoned as the rest of us grew silent.