Three hard knocks at the door jarred us out of the moment.
"The landlord must have sprouted wings to get here this fast," I said. Pushing away from the table, I walked to the door.
It wasn't the super waiting in the hallway. Three men stood there, all wearing suits in various stages of disarray. It looked like they had slept in them. When someone in a suit comes looking for you, it's never a good thing. When three of them show up you probably need a lawyer.
The man in front wore a black suit and was clearly the head honcho. He wasn't particularly tall, maybe 5'10", and had a strong, wiry build. His face could have been chiseled out of granite. A long, thin scar ran down his left cheek that looked like it could have been caused by a knife. His graying cropped hair implied he had been, or still was, some kind of military. I'd seen guys like him while stationed in Iraq. You could always tell who the major players were: they wore suits in the middle of a warzone. He was one of those.
Two very serious looking hombres flanked him on either side. Judging by their beards and thousand yard stares they were definitely Special Forces. The white guy on Scarface's left stood taller than the others, close to my height, with dirty blonde hair. He looked through me more than at me. The other one was significantly shorter and of Asian descent. His eyes scanned the apartment behind me.
These guys weren't here for pizza and Pop Tarts.
"I don't really need any more magazine subscriptions," I said.
I live on the fourth floor of a building with no elevator. Those four flights of stairs are a good way to measure if someone is in decent shape or not. Even a gym rat starts to perspire a little by the top. They must have floated up here because they weren't even breathing hard.
"Asher Benson, my name is Smith," Scarface said.
"Smith? How original."
"Mr. Benson, we need you to come with us immediately," Smith said. His voice and expression were flat as a pancake.
"Oh, you aren't selling magazine subscriptions? What are you peddling then? Vacuum cleaners? Religion?" I snapped my fingers. "I got it! Girl scout cookies. I probably could probably swing a few boxes of thin mints."
"We believe your life is in danger." He looked past me and saw Samantha sitting at the table. "Who's the woman?"
"The 'woman' is none of your business. Who the hell are you guys? Why would my life be in danger?"
"Unfortunately, we don't have time to discuss this here. You'll be briefed when we're on the road. This isn't a negotiation." Even his diction was plain.
I looked at all three of them, trying to gauge the situation.
"So that's why you brought Chuck Norris and Jackie Chan – extra muscle to drag me out of here if I didn't cooperate. I appreciate you being concerned about my wellbeing, but there's a rerun of Cheers on tonight that I really want to watch, so—"
"Please escort the young woman outside," Smith said over his shoulder to the Chuck Norris lookalike. "We need to leave now."
"Don't even think about—"
Jackie grabbed my arm, pulled me into the hallway, and twisted it behind my back before I even saw him move. His grip was like iron. I never had a chance.
I tried pushing away from the wall, failing miserably. Since they had me completely immobilized, I started concentrating on Smith. Wrapping my mind around his, I grasped at the edges of his thoughts. Jackie pulled my arm up even higher, sending bolts of pain shooting through my shoulder. The joint made a nasty creaking sound. I lost my mental grip.
Inside the apartment Sammy yelled something that I couldn't make out.
Smith pulled a syringe out of his inside jacket pocket, took the cap off the end, and jabbed it in my neck.
"What the hell!" I yelled as I tried to pull my neck away. Warmth spread throughout my head.
"Relax, Mr. Benson, it's just an opiate. We don't need you probing into areas that aren't meant for you."
"How can you possibly know—"
"All of your questions will be answered in due time."
"Get off me! Someone help! We're being abducted!" Sammy screamed. Chuck carried her out of my apartment and brought her over to where we were standing. He handed her purse to Smith.
"Ash, what's going on?"
My mind felt like it was turning into mush. Concentration was becoming impossible.
"I have no idea, but it seems like we're being kidnapped by the Expendables," I said. That earned me a cuff to the back of the head from Jackie.
Smith fished her I.D. out of her purse and glanced at it. "Ms. Moore, I suggest you calm down. We're doing this for your own safety. Please remain silent as we leave the building."
"Leave the building? Kiss my ass! Put me down, you oaf. Where's your warrant? Wait until the NCAA hears about this!"
"NCAA?" I asked. "You mean the ACLU?"
"Yeah! I'm going to sue the crap out of these guys!"
Smith threw her purse back into the apartment before heading to the stairwell.
"Hey! I need that!"
Chuck put his hand over her mouth, grabbed her around the waist and started carrying her down the stairs.
"Hey!" I struggled in Jackie's grip, but my strength had evaporated. "There's no need to handle her like that." My entire body felt loose and disconnected. Despite all that was happening, I started to feel blissful.
They weren't giving me any options, at least not any that I could capitalize on anymore, so I let them lead us down the stairwell. Sammy never stopped yelling into Chuck's hand. She put up one hell of a struggle. Watching him try to carry her down four flights of stairs as she squirmed in his arms must have struck me as hilarious, because I began to giggle. Whatever they gave me had quite a kick.
As we walked out the front door of the building, they steered us toward a large white van that sat at the curb. Chuck opened the back door and threw Sammy in. Jackie pushed me beside her. The three of them climbed in, Jackie taking the wheel, and we peeled away from the curb.
"I can't believe this! Ash, please tell me who these men are!" Samantha saw the dumbass smile on my face and turned her anger on me. "How can you smile at a time like this? These men abducted us!"
"You have the cutest dimples when you're mad," I said.
She looked at me as if I had gone completely insane, which wasn't a stretch at that point. Leaning close to my face, she examined my eyes.
"What did you do to him? His pupils are the size of a needle."
"The extent of his abilities remains a mystery to us. We had to utilize a high dosage. He'll be fine in a few hours," Smith said. His tone was so matter-of-fact he could have been reading baseball statistics. "I apologize for using such extreme measures, but certain safety protocols had to be maintained. You weren't our objective, but your proximity to Mr. Benson has endangered you."
"Abilities, dosage, objective? Speak English, asshole!"
"Here they come," Chuck said as he peered out the rear window.
The rest of us turned and looked out the window, seeing a white van slide to a stop in front of our building. A trapdoor opened on the top and a man rose out of it, waist high. He lifted a rocket launcher onto his shoulder and fired it through the window of my apartment.
The front wall of the building exploded outward, showering the street with bricks, wood, and what was left of my burning belongings. Most of Sammy's place burned as well.
"Holy shit!" Sammy screeched.
Two more men dressed in black climbed out of the van and ran into the building. They were armed from head to toe.
"I don't think they spotted us," Jackie said. He watched the action in the van's large mirror to his left.
My vision went in and out like a light bulb on a dimmer switch.
"That looked awesome," I said, my words slurring as the world swam before my eyes.
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