Chapter Seventeen: Captured

We awoke tied to chairs in a near-lightless room. It certainly wasn’t at the mansion. A lone incandescent light swung unnervingly above our heads. It illuminated a few thick wooden boxes to my left, at the exact limit of my vision.

Hmmm. This isn’t good.

I could sense someone behind me. It had to be Yuki, surely. Sure enough, the figure behind me began to stir, then immediately panicked.

Captured by the mob. Not how I was hoping to spend a day-after-my-birthday. That’s like the birthday equivalent of Boxing Day. You’re supposed to spend that unwinding.

Yuki let out a muffled series of panicked noises not unlike a cornered mouse. It became clear that her mouth was covered by some kind of gag. My mouth, notably, was unobstructed.

“Pssst. Don’t make too much noise,” I cautioned at a whisper. “We probably don’t want to summon anyone.”

Oh, we needed to take steps to summon help eventually. But for now, no news from our mysterious captors was good news. We wanted them to forget about us for as long as possible, within reason. If they left us here to starve, it would at least give us more room to shimmy out of these restraints.

There was an uncouth gagging sound as Yuki work on getting rid of her gag. After a few minutes, she succeeded.

“Are they holding us for ransom!?” Yuki asked, making a modest attempt to keep it down.

I provided another, softer ‘shhhh.’ “Okay, so we appear to have been kidnapped by the mafia.”

Who knew the Teixeira family could afford a fleet of drones? I shrugged in my chair, still fiddling with the restraints. They appeared to be a simple pair of zip ties.

It had to be the Teixeiras, surely. Unless a second organized crime gang also wanted to go after Yuki☆ for whatever reason.

“Where’s Janae?” Yuki asked, quieter this time.

“Haven’t seen her,” I said.

Let’s check the facts as we knew them: Janae was not in the house, having left to go disperse some (presumed) paparazzi drones. Those drones had attacked Yuki’s house. Could the bodyguard have merely failed to stop so many deployed drones, or was it more likely that she’d gotten caught as well? Whatever her fate, she wasn’t here now.

There would have necessarily been ‘boots on the ground’ to actually scoop us up and cart us off. No drone could perform a maneuver that complex. With a professional hit squad, it could be done in a few minutes. I wondered if they had any contacts with that security crew at the neighborhood gatehouse. That could also have stymied Janae’s anti-drone ops.

Now, where were we? The walls were far out of range of four narrow cone of lighting. There were no windows, so nothing to climb out of once we got free. A slight scent of salt and preservatives filled the air.

“I think we’re near the docks,” I said.

“How do you know?”

“Eh, call it a hunch.”

It made sense. That’s where the friendly neighborhood gangsters operated.

“I would imagine these guys are here for me, technically,” I admitted.

“Really?” Yuki asked. “I’m the celebrity.”

I sighed. We had nothing but time.

“So, there’s this other delivery client…” I began.

I went through and explained everything. The clandestine operations for the Teixeira family. How Mister Teixeira tried roping me into trying to bug her place, and my (attempted) rebuffing. When it was over, the warehouse room was deathly silent.

All things considered, it would’ve been perfectly understandable for the J-pop sensation to be angry. If we got out of this warehouse alive, I was entirely prepared for Yuki to never want to talk to me again.

Instead, I felt her shrug at my back.

“Well, it’s not like you’re involved in their schemes,” she said glibly.

“Yeah. But I did head to your place rather than running for the hills. That may not have been my smartest maneuver.”

“If Janae were home that still could’ve ended much more favorably,” Yuki said. “The house had an elaborate lockdown security measure she could’ve deployed.”

I made a clicking sound with my teeth. If only I’d gotten there a little sooner—or a little later. Still, I was happy that

Now, how to get out?

“How are your nails?” I asked.

“My nails?” Yuki tilted her head. “Uh, long? Just got them done for a special photo suit.”

I took a deep breath. The zipties were applied extra tight. If I’d been conscious when they were put on I could conceivably have clenched my fists before they went on, then loosened my grip to get buy some space and squeeze through. That option was right out, so…

“You should be able to feel the stopper thing with your fingers,” I said.

“Lift it up. Might chip the nail, but you should then be able to reverse the lock until it lets you out.”

There was a slight delay as Yuki went through some trial and error. I twiddled my thumbs, both metaphorically and literally speaking.

When the starlet’s nails finally hit their mark, the cuffs opened up silently. This was by no means the only thing we needed to do in order to escape, but it was certainly an essential first step.

“I’m out.” Yuki was already unwinding a collection of other ropes and the like, keeping her bound to the chair.

“Good job,” I said.

Now it was just a matter of waiting until Yuki freed herself, then got me out as well. Before long, Yuki moved her chair aside to get my restraints. Undoing the zippers of a second party proved much faster. Within moments, I felt the tension leave my wrists, and movement was restored. Yuki quickly unraveled the lesser restraints, and we were both up.

“I’d imagine there are some guards,” I said. “Be careful. And quiet.”

We walked to the edge of the room at a crouch. A thin, sheet metal shell made it clear that this was not meant to be a permanent dwelling. My guess was correct; we were in a warehouse. A set of extra-wide doors was designed to open apart. If I just applied myself, I could probably get it open.

“We may have to run right away,” I told Yuki.

Yuki☆ nodded.

Our cell phones were, of course, confiscated. We were going to have to find some way of getting word to Janae or the cops once we were out.

I pried the door open with my fingers, then my hands once the gap between the doors grew wide enough.

The area beyond was better lit. There were windows, and a mid-afternoon sun streamed through both them and a wider door ajar on the far wall.

This was indeed a warehouse near the port. Moreover, it was the warehouse, the one where I received that job from Mister Texiera himself.

The fold-out chair and table were still there. Mister Texiera was also there, still attending to paperwork, as were his pair of bodyguards/mafia goons. The mafioso looked over at us nonchalantly.

“How the heck did you get out of your bonds?” Mister Texiera asked with a surprising calmness, given his profession.