The War on Drugs: Business Before Pleasure: Chapter Six

Chapter Six

October 27th, 7:00 PM

From the outside, the factory was both imposing and decrepit.  The imposing part came from the building's past: decades ago, it had been the major hub for manufacturing in the city; Margot's uncle had even been employed on one of the assembly lines, back in the day.  But the decrepit part came from the present: years of abandonment and subsequent neglect had put cracks in the factory's concrete walls, jagged holes in its windows, small plants and mosses growing in weird places in the parking lot.  It was here in the parking lot, hundreds of yards from the factory itself, where Erin and Margot sat in Margot's car, Erin putting on her Blue Lynx mask and pulling things out of her backpack.

"It's dead," Erin said, looking at the building.  "You'd never expect there to be a drug operation inside."

"Unless of course you looked at those cars," Margot said.  She pointed at the vans nearer to the factory.  "That's not suspicious at all."

Erin fastened the button flaps on her utility belt and straightened it.

"You've got the Lynx Darts?" Margot asked.

"Oh yeah," Erin said, patting one of her pouches.  "Should be fun using em."

"Well, ideally, you won't have to," Margot said.  "This has to be a stealth operation, Erin.  My intel tells me that there's about eight guards in there.  I imagine they're armed, too.  Hammerson visited this place several times in the past couple of days.  It's important, for sure."

"I know, I know," Erin said.  She looked at her mask in the mirror, tilted it.  "That's why I'm going through the roof."

"Right," Margot nodded.  The Lynx Darts-- small projectiles, like jacks, to be thrown at baddies for temporary incapacitation purposes-- were just one of the new inventions Margot had given Erin for this difficult mission.  The other was a pocket-sized grappel hook with a sturdy, floss-like line.  It could get a superheroine up a five story building, if need be.  The girls had practiced using it this morning.  It wasn't perfect, and obviously, a poor throw could mean dire things for the Blue Lynx.  But when it worked, it was exhilarating, both for Erin to use and for Margot to watch.

"It's like Batman," Erin giggled.

"As long as that doesn't make me Robin," Margot said.

Erin shook her head, smiled, and put her hand on Margot's shoulder.  "Okay.  I'm ready."

Margot brought out her phone.  "Okay.  I'll be tracking you every step of the way."

"Wish me luck," Erin said, stepping out of the car and shutting the door quietly.

"Good luck, Blue Lynx," Margot said, watching her friend step away into the dark.

She shivered.  It wasn't that Margot was nervous.  She knew that the last mission, The Night at Hillbilly Manor, was an especially unlucky one for the two women, full of bizarre flukes.  (Who had ever heard of a gas trap that went off minute after a wrong password was entered?)  But she nevertheless felt... Chastened by the experience.  Like she had lost her superheroine partner virginity, or something.  She worried for Erin.  In a one-on-one, fair fight, the Blue Lynx had few rivals; Erin was a true master of the martial arts.  But Margot was coming to realize that villains didn't have to fight fair-- that they'd be especially tricky now that they knew about the power of Blue Lynx.

And what the hell was Erin doing, inviting Hammerson over for drinks?  Okay, he had surprised her.  But she hadn't exactly turned him away.  Again, Margot knew that, if it came to blows, Erin could kick Hammerson's ass all over their apartment.  But how easily could she have slipped, verbally, and told Hammerson something about the Blue Lynx's secret identity?  The more confident Erin got, the more her judgment seemed to fail.  Margot hoped Erin wouldn't have to make any big decisions inside the factory, that the mission would be as simple as in, take the bad guys down, and out.

She looked up at Blue Lynx's dark silhouette, saw her creep nearer to the factory.  A glint of light suddenly shone in the superheroine's hand, and then she was off, flying through the air, zipping along the grappling hook line and up to the roof of the tall building.

"Wow," Margot thought.  "That really is awesome."

She turned her attention to her phone.  The red dot that was the Blue Lynx was moving quickly.  Margot imagined her finding the fire escape, scooting down the ladder, breaking in through a window, sneaking around.  In her mind, she saw the Blue Lynx tackling the thugs one-by-one, descending the floors of the factory, getting to where the drugs were made and taking the photo evidence they needed.

She followed the dot intently, became almost hypnotized.  She had lost track of time watching it move around and around, and jumped a little when she heard a single BANG on her driver's side window.  There was a man outside, a huge man dressed in black, a balaclava covering his features, carrying a rifle.

"Hey," he said.  "What's going on in there?  Open up."

"Shit," Margot thought.  "Oh shit shit shit."  What to do?  She had to come up with something.  She was just hanging out?  She was lost?

"Come on, get out the car," the man intoned, banging on the window again.

Margot set her phone in her lap and rolled down the window.  "Hi," she said, nervously.  She tried to smile.  "Um, can I help you?"

"Get out of the car," he said.  "You're not supposed to be here."

"Oh," Margot said, as girlishly as possible.  "I was just, um, sketching the factory.  Ruins are so beautiful, don't you think?"

The man tore open the car door and grabbed Margot by the front of her striped sweater, pulling her up and out of seat with a single powerful jerk.  As she was dragged from the car, her phone dropped from her lap and landed on the ground.  The man pushed the front of his rifle into Margot's stomach, and she backed into the backseat door, holding her arms up.

"Please," she said.  "I'll leave.  I didn't know this was, umm, a bad place."

Still holding his rifle at Margot, the man bent down, scooping up her phone.  He eyed it skeptically.  "What the hell is this?  'Blue Lynx Tracker'?"

Margot could feel sweat dribble down her spine.  "Umm," she started, "That's my--"

"You're coming with me, Missy," the guard said, pocketing the phone.  He slung his rifle around his back and, before she could even flinch, brought his arms around Margot, clutching her in a bearhug.  He lifted her off of her feet and swung her around, eventually setting her stomach-down on his broad shoulder, holding her there with a single muscular arm.  Margot started screaming.

"Help!  Help!" she said, beating on the guard's back with her small fists.  "I'm being abducted!"

"Shut up," the guard said.  "No one can hear you out here anyway."

He poked her in the ass with a rough finger and, slamming the car door behind him, began walking toward the factory.  Margot kicked and punched and screamed but the guard was unfazed.  He pulled a radio from his other pocket and brought it to his face.

"I found the Blue Lynx's partner," he laughed.  "I'm bringing her in."

On to Chapter Seven