Daily Blog 9/1/17

Start at the beginning: https://bluebeard-art.com/2017/08/27/daily-blog-82717/

Previous chapter: https://bluebeard-art.com/2017/08/31/daily-blog-83117/


Chapter five brings us back to Silgan, and the main plot. He and Alex arrive at their “workplace” and are briefed on today’s “client”.

*Explicit language warning  



Present Day

Silgan secured his briefcase, careful not to knock Alex’s tool box off of the seat, and opened the door. Immediately, the below-zero November air assaulted his eyes, nose, and hand. I love that sting, the numbing chill. Stepping out, he observed his surroundings, hearing Alex’s door open behind him. In front of him, an unmarked building that looked to be a re-purposed lumber mill, abandoned and ominous. Looks like a God-damn horror house. Various tools, covered in supple, fresh, snow were scattered about the floor.

As Silgan turned to close his door, Alex mused, “Gotta love these Rhode Island winters! Makes a man remember what life feels like, don’t it?”

“That’s one way of looking at it.” muttered Silgan, frowning. The pair started to walk towards the semi-frozen glass doors as the car pulled away. I don’t like this.

Alex gave Silgan his best “suck it up” look and said “Man it ain’t you we gonna work today, not yet. Gotta be thankful for that, at least.” Better than working a kid, you brute. 

Annoyed, Silgan responded “For a man from the south, you sure don’t know when to shut up. I’d give anything, short of die, to not have to do what we’re about to.”

The anxiety started seeping through Silgans muscles, as a chorus of voices became audible. “We made ourselves clear to the boss after that kid in upstate New York. Why the fuck is he messing with us.” Shutup!

“What? After all the great decisions, you’ve been making? You got us in this mess and we are supposed to keep quiet? Maybe we should make more of the decisions.” responded the voices, offended.

“Too bad the only possible outcome of you turning tail is death, aint it?” asked Alex, meeting Silgan’s eye with a knowing glare. “You good man? You look a little pale.”

“You’re worthless. Nothing. Can’t even do your job without trying to drown us, the useful parts of you, out with drugs!”

Nodding at Alex, Silgan reached for the door. The rounded metal handle was cold to the touch, but swung open smoothly. It had clearly been maintained better than the rundown mills exterior brick and the tools littering the ground.

“We protect you, you know. From the shit you’ve done, we contain it, so it can’t hurt your fragile ego, chemist. Pfft. You can’t even hurt a little girl without crying to Alex.” Mocked the voices.

You’re sick.

Laughing, the voices continued, “We know we are and so are you. You NEED us to survive, you’re weak, worthless, dreadful, you piece of human refuse. How can you be so fucked and be such a pussy at the same time? Running from us, changing your name time after time­–”

“Hey, buddy, gonna need you to focus up. Swipe your card.” said Alex, looking worried.

Confused, Silgan responded “Sorry, I’m fine.” Light-headed, Silgan reached for the RF-ID stored in his right suit-coat pocket. “This marks got me all out of sorts, the boss should have sent a different team to handle this one.”

“You know you’re the best, and this is pretty fucking important.” Noted Alex, as he shuffled into the opening elevator door. “That said, I gotta say it’s pretty unlikely she’s gonna know the creepy shit her daddies been planning. Sullie is a fucking ghost, and his family is probably as in the dark as we are.” I didn’t even realize Sullie had a family. He’s usually the one doing the black-mail, not the other way. The kind of man who’d shoot his parents to improve his image. 

The elevator was clearly much newer than the building, made of what appeared to be burnished nickel with steel. No, its texture suggest titanium. Expensive. Ding: U2–Silgan and Alex both took black latex gloves from the small dispenser on the back of the elevator shaft–Ding: U3–and started to put them on.

“Keep your head on straight in there man.” Alex said, looking straight ahead–Ding: U4.

“I know the drill. I just hope she knows something.” Responded Silgan, steeling himself–Ding: U5.

The elevator opened smoothly, revealing a dimly lit room. Stepping out of the lift, Silgan noted the observatory structure of the room. There was a chamber in the center of the room was lined on each of its four sides with glass. Probably one-way glass. The chambers four corners pointed to the middle of each of the surrounding rooms four sides, forming a diamond shape within a square. There were metal hand rails protruding from the glass, as well as speakers lining the ceiling. Those are gonna be hooked up to mics in the glass room, hard to say anything without being heard. 

A small woman sat at a desk in the far left corner of the outer-room. On his desk was an expensive looking Dill-Man laptop surrounded by various recording equipment. Really going high tech on this one. If I had any hope of getting out of this before, it’s gone now. These thoughts were further enforced by the two sets of guards in unmarked body armor holding what appeared to be automatic shotguns, with LMGs strapped to their backs. Normal ballistics, doesn’t look magnetic. One soldier stood on either side of the elevator, while the other pair guarded the entrance to the chamber.

Standing behind the small woman with the recording equipment was a tall, muscular man in a Navy blue suit. He wore dark sunglasses despite the already dim lighting. Those are probably tactical glasses. The guards have them too. He also had a wire trailing from his collar to his ear. As Alex and Silgan approached the desk, the tall man looked up, his face stoic, and hard. If his stature wasn’t imposing enough, his cleanly shaven and low cropped military hair surrounding a stone-like jaw were downright intimidating. Anabolics, hell of a drug.

“Gentlemen.” He said in a cracked base. Christ, where did they find this guy? Alex and Silgan both nodded in acknowledgment. “I’ll be briefing you today. I’m not going to lie, we don’t know if she knows anything. We know she responds to Nessa. She was captured in a semi-prison during the raid on her father’s hideout in upstate New York along-side a mutilated corpse. We think she did it with a make-shift iron hook that was lodged in the man’s glabella, just below his forehead. Her medical examination revealed she’s already been the victim of significant abuse. We didn’t realize who she was until we tested her DNA, which matched Sullies DNA. For these reasons, it is clear that she has little value as a hostage, your mission is to extract whatever she has, by any means you deem necessary, and then dispose of her.

Silgan’s heart dropped to his stomach. That’s it, then. No two ways about it.


Thanks for reading!

Next chapter: https://bluebeard-art.com/2017/09/02/daily-blog-9217/

3 thoughts on “Daily Blog 9/1/17

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s