welcome, inspector

Long Road

After a couple of bumps, sudden and brutal steps on the brakes, the driver pulled over.

As I was gagged, blindfolded and my hands were tied together, I felt a hand on my shoulder, grabbing me tightly.

I was lying down on a layer of cardboard, my head was pounding and throbbing, I was awake, but I just felt a piece of fabric strapped across my eyes, and more jammed down my throat.

I felt rough splinters against my wrist, I struggled not to move, hoping I would not get smacked in the head again.

I felt the back of the van open, as my entire body weight shifted, I rolled out sub-consciously.

Then I remembered that Carlson was still a thing, and I had to make sure he was okay.

I felt a pair of hands grab hold of my sleeves, starting the painful drag on uneven concrete surfaces.

All I saw was darkness, until my head hit something, hardly.

I heard ringing in my ears, but part of the blindfold came loose, as light started shining into my eyes, after who knows how many hours of darkness, the greeting of light was harsh.

The dragging continued, except I knew where I was; a warehouse, looking like IKEA, but not.

The lights were dimmed, but I could still make out the thousands of boxes lining the shelves, all labelled a certain name.

One caught my eye, Heroine.

These were drug traffickers, as well as adult-nappers. I turned my head slowly, hoping to find Carlson around me.

Thankfully, he was still alive and well, but he was being forced to walk on his own, escorted by two buff men.

The "dragger" stopped in his tracks, placing my upper torso on the ground.

I eyed Carlson, as he was thrown onto the ground as he made a muffled groan, as he was gagged too.

It just happened.

Cold water came raining down on me, I immediately screamed and sat up, shivering.

Our blindfolds were taken off, as we were gathered together.

I could make out at least a dozen armed men escorting a man in a suit, puffing a cigarette as he walked.

"You okay..?" Carlson asked, his voice shaky.

  I nodded, looking at his gunshot wound, he was fine, apparently, but his uniform was still smudged with dry blood.

  "They, did surgery, I guess, on the way here- I guess a dim light was enough to pluck out a bullet shell, and stitch my back up."

I made a sound out of understanding, and disbelief.

The group was approaching and I felt hands grab the ropes bounding my wrists together, "You just run, leave me alone."

After a few pulls and stretches, the knot came free, my unrestricted hands instinctively reached behind Carlson too, undoing his knot.

Carlson did not resist, and just weakly smiled.

"Brie should be here too," Carlson looked around, on the count of three, we run to the box-"

"Going somewhere?" A pistol was aimed at Carlson's head.

"Never!" I swept him off his feet, as he proceeded to fall.

The big group of self-proclaimed baddies came running, starting to shoot at us, "RUN!"

We sprinted to the box, unarmed as we were stripped of any weapon.

I had a pocket knife hidden in my pocket though, so I sawed through the box as the group was steadily on the approach.

There was manly screaming, and more shooting, but as the automatic weapons poured out, we got one each and started firing.

We opened fire, but they only shot blanks.

As the group retreated, painfully shot off by the blanks, we ran, to the back of the warehouse, where a tiny room was located.

  "Those jackasses are coming soon, we have to do something before we get punctured by several bullets."

  Carlson threw his gun in their direction, as we approached the room. He breathed heavily as he slammed on the door, "BRIE?"

No response, just the sound of his heart pounding, and bullets flying everywhere.

I was beside Carlson, firing the rest of my blanks at them, "I'm running out, can you open the-"

Carlson kicked the door down, just as a bullet grazed my shoulder.

I winced as we leapt into the room, using my leg to slam it shut. Thankfully, the door was bulletproof.

Blood oozed out onto the concrete flooring, we were in what seemed to be an unfinished room in the warehouse, the paint on the walls not fully dried yet, cement piled up against the four corners of the room.

A dim patch of sunlight peeked into the room, just enough to illuminate the entire room.

"Brie isn't here, we just need to get out, it'll only be a couple of minutes before the run the door down."

The constant slamming on the door was disturbing.

"How? It's basically concrete and one small hole in the wall, how are we supposed to get out?" Carlson squeezed two fingers into the hole to make his point.

Suddenly, the wall Carlson was gripping came loose, like an unstable sandcastle.

"A fake wall," Carlson said as he continued to "disassemble" the wall.

"Wow," I muttered, taking one last glance at the door as the wall came tumbling down.

The dirt and dust from the crumbled wall acted as a smokescreen, soon the room was filled with a haze, as Carlson and I ran out, into another room.

  Brie was bounded to a chair, her hands tied and her feet were tied to the chair's legs.

  She was either unconscious or sleeping, but she would have been wakened up by our fuss.

  We ran over to her, as Carlson grabbed her shoulders tightly, "Brie?!"

  He shook her numerous times, her upper body following the motion, "Are you okay?"

  "Carlson, she can't hear you, we need to bring her to-" I paused, close to saying the station, "somewhere safe."

  Carlson nodded, as we undid the ropes that restricted her tightly to the chair.

  "Not so fast," a man voiced out, behind us.

  Suddenly, it felt like a few dozen men just appeared out of thin air, surrounding us with guns.

  "Nice to meet you, I believe you've had a run-in with Albert, apologies for that,"

  The man walked to our front, "I believe y'all are the last ones alive, eh?"

"What..?" Carlson questioned, in complete denial.

The man laughed, hysterically, "We completely wiped out your force with only around nine men! Well, almost."

Upon closer inspection, the man was standing tall, taller than average, while dressed in a tuxedo. (who even does that anymore)

His sunglasses' rim was made of gold, reflecting beams of burning light at our eyes.

"I believe I haven't introduced myself,"

"I am Nougat."