Fingerprints

Thirty-four

The four raced down the darkened street, covered by the night sky and the uselessness of the dim street lamps. They ran block after block, before slipping into a back alley about three streets away from the warehouse.

Thomas noticed Newt's discomfort, his foot probably playing up. He reached out and squeezed the gloved hand, receiving a small smile back.

The shadows were the perfect cover as they made their way to the warehouse, and all that Thomas could think was Teresa. Her name was stuck on replay in his mind, making his heart twist and pound and his head hurt.

Teresa. Teresa. Teresa.

Eventually, Minho, who had the small map open on his watch, pushed his back againts a damp wall, the other three doing the same.

"Ok. Behind this street is the back enterance. I say we go in together and split up once we're inside. Good that?"

"Good that." The others murmured back, guns pulled close to their chests. Minho nodded, and squatted close to the ground. Rain poured down on the city, and Thomas found it quite claustrophobic. He wondered if it was raining where Teresa was.

Teresa. Teresa. Teresa.

"Wait" Newt hissed, "security camera, eleven o' clock."

"Get it Newt." Brenda replied, motioning to the small box that resided about fifty feet away.

"Why me?" He whined, the lens shot off with no issue.

"That's why. I've never seen aim so good." She chuckled, tapping Minho twice to keep going.

The warehouse was huge. It's large walls were moulding and crumbled and the ground was littered with dirt and rubbish. It looked abandoned from the outside, but the brunette would be a fool to notice that the mould hadn't rotted holes in the walls, leaving nothing on show for the naked eye.

The Asian spotted the back door and crawled toward it, four of them pressing up against the wall when they got there.

"Bren'." Minho motioned. She slipped a hair tie from behind her ear and gently slid it into the lock. With a few seconds of jiggling, it came undone, rusted door swinging open.

"You'd think they'd have a better lock system." Thomas frowned.

"Yeah. You'd think they would." He met Newt's skeptical eye as the group made their way inside. "We split up?"

"Yep. Guess we'll see you both on the other side." Their friend grinned at them. Newt nodded and squeezed his shoulder, before squeezing Brenda's hand. Thomas gave them both a nod, and the girl a smile, before following his partner down a long corridor.

It was much like the WCKD store they'd been inside a few days prior. Everything was either grey, cold stone or glass, the blue strip lighting lining the walls. Thomas wondered what Teresa would think of it.

Teresa. Teresa. Teresa.

Tommy.

"Tommy!" Newt hissed again, snapping him from his thoughts.

"W..What?"

"Are you ok? You totally zoned there, I was trying to talk to you." He frowned, shooting out another camera with ease.

"I'm sorry..I think being away from Teresa so long is starting to mess me up. I can't stop thinking about her." He murmured sadly, following the blond.

"Tommy, you can't give up hope now. We're here, investigating the strongest lead we've ever had. If that doesn't give you hope I don't know what will" he passed his partner a reassuring smile, which made the knot of anxiety in the mans stomach practically unravel immediately.

"I swear, you're a witch or something because nothing has ever made me calm down that much." He muttered, making the Brit scoff quietly.

"A witch? I feel flattered" He rounded a corner. There had been no doors in the corridor yet, which Thomas thought was very odd.

"Fine. A wizard. You are Gandalf after all."

He scoffed, Thomas checking behind them quickly to see if they were clear. "I'll have you know I'm not old or dead an-."

"No. But you might be soon." An icy voice cut through the air like a knife, Thomas whipping around to see Newt, with a hand over his mouth and a gun resting at his temple. He was kicking and struggling and trying to bite his captors hand, but it wasn't quite working.

The man holding him had heavy black armour on, dark gloved hands and pale taught skin. His eyes were grey and cold, his lips twisted into a sickly sweet smile.

"Hello Thomas. I've heard all about you and your little friend here." He motioned to the angry blond.

"Let him go."

"Not unless you tell me what I want to know, and do as I say." Thomas held up his hands in surrender, shaking slightly and watching the mans trigger finger like a hawk."Tell him to stop struggling." The man ordered. Thomas met Newt's eye, filled with defiance and 'I don't give a fuck' as usual.

"Newt. Stop struggling." he said firmly. The blond just stuck his middle finger up in the general area.

"Make him stop, or I'll have too." The man growled.

"Newt!" Thomas cried, "Newt if you're dead you can't find her." He murmured. The Brit seemed to process his words for a moment, before glaring at his partner and stopping his moving.

"Good boy." The man sung condescendingly. "Now. What are you doing here?" He asked.

"We're investigating." Thomas said breifly.

"Investigating what?" He said sharply, pushing the gun into the brits pale temple harder.

"W..we..we're investigating the-"

A yell was heard from behind Newt, before the man was smacked around the head with something and fell limp on the ground. The blond whipped around, coming face to face with his sister.

Sonya. Sonya. Sonya.