hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry , mija. I'm sure that chef Malcolm is cooking up something really good for you."
It was the best she could offer. So Ana took it, and they headed out with much less drama than the Senator.
–
"The black van. Can you run a history scan of any kidnappings involving black vans ? I know it's totally generic and ridiculously stereotypical. I know it’s a long shot. But Memo was taken by people in a black van and this kid was too. I don't know if these guys went to some kidnapper training school, but there's got to be something to it."
"So, find a pattern?"
"Find a pattern."
"It's going to take a while to actually come up with anything. It's not like black vans are a rare thing. Kidnappings more so, but still."
"Yes, Aerin. I doubt you'll even be able to find anything. But just check it out."
"Oh, no, no, no. I will find something. Whether that something has anything to do with your brother is the question mark. But, then, you're the one who'll have to answer that question."
--
Ana had grown dangerously close to relaxing in the bathtub in her apartment when that thread in the back of her mind started to unravel like a second-hand sweater. The larger-than-life image projected on the briefing room screen popped into her head. She opened her eyes and looked at the white swirls in the large gray tiles that made up her bath and shower stall. The image faded for a moment. She focused on the water lapping gently around her. The picture was there though, not visible, but visceral. The thread that nagged continued to unravel through her muscles.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Memo.
She could save him. She make up for letting him go. She could. The child was in there.
Ana rose from the tub slowly, her body still trying to let go and relax, her mind pulling it into an internal briefing room. For a moment, she stood, contemplative, feeling the weight of her wet hair on her back. Feeling the water slide off her skin into the tepid pool below. Her ankles and feet were still held by the water, just warm enough to remind her how nice it had been.
Then she sprang into action, Valkyrie-style. She toweled off head-to-toe in one swift motion, walked briskly into her bedroom, whipped a black shirt and pair of pants from her "Valkyrie" dresser, stretched them over her body, slapped on a pair of dark shoes, and went to the closet to weapon up.
--
Ana entered the building with her gun drawn, held back against her shoulder. Darkness drew her in, but her eyes adjusted to reveal the same barren shell of a warehouse she'd seen earlier in the day. Darker now, of course, without the day's natural light. The ambient light of the big city provided its own version of daylight, subtle and shifting, aided by the stepchild of illumination that was the sun's reflection off the moon. Ana moved quickly across the cold gray floor, feeling like Cinderella in her ball gown, in a hurry to get the job done before her purloined vehicle turned into a pumpkin.
It was much easier to be stealthy by herself. Even if the security forces—or Infinite Army or whomever—had replenished their numbers and increased their awareness, she was a shadow, only appearing briefly when a streetlight entered through a window that hadn't yet fully succumbed to the grime.
The feeling rose again within her that there was more to this decrepit place than even those enlisted to safeguard it would have known. There was somewhere in here a child, taken from familiar surroundings, just like he r brother, trapped by strangers with nowhere to go. She could feel it just as she could feel her heart beating in her chest.
The telltale heart drew her from shadow to shadow . Steeped in darkness she moved deeper inside the building. Boxes hid her movement as she crept past one guard and then another. She avoided every place they'd passed or inspected in the first run-through. They hadn't skipped over anything, she knew,
It was the best she could offer. So Ana took it, and they headed out with much less drama than the Senator.
–
"The black van. Can you run a history scan of any kidnappings involving black vans ? I know it's totally generic and ridiculously stereotypical. I know it’s a long shot. But Memo was taken by people in a black van and this kid was too. I don't know if these guys went to some kidnapper training school, but there's got to be something to it."
"So, find a pattern?"
"Find a pattern."
"It's going to take a while to actually come up with anything. It's not like black vans are a rare thing. Kidnappings more so, but still."
"Yes, Aerin. I doubt you'll even be able to find anything. But just check it out."
"Oh, no, no, no. I will find something. Whether that something has anything to do with your brother is the question mark. But, then, you're the one who'll have to answer that question."
--
Ana had grown dangerously close to relaxing in the bathtub in her apartment when that thread in the back of her mind started to unravel like a second-hand sweater. The larger-than-life image projected on the briefing room screen popped into her head. She opened her eyes and looked at the white swirls in the large gray tiles that made up her bath and shower stall. The image faded for a moment. She focused on the water lapping gently around her. The picture was there though, not visible, but visceral. The thread that nagged continued to unravel through her muscles.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Memo.
She could save him. She make up for letting him go. She could. The child was in there.
Ana rose from the tub slowly, her body still trying to let go and relax, her mind pulling it into an internal briefing room. For a moment, she stood, contemplative, feeling the weight of her wet hair on her back. Feeling the water slide off her skin into the tepid pool below. Her ankles and feet were still held by the water, just warm enough to remind her how nice it had been.
Then she sprang into action, Valkyrie-style. She toweled off head-to-toe in one swift motion, walked briskly into her bedroom, whipped a black shirt and pair of pants from her "Valkyrie" dresser, stretched them over her body, slapped on a pair of dark shoes, and went to the closet to weapon up.
--
Ana entered the building with her gun drawn, held back against her shoulder. Darkness drew her in, but her eyes adjusted to reveal the same barren shell of a warehouse she'd seen earlier in the day. Darker now, of course, without the day's natural light. The ambient light of the big city provided its own version of daylight, subtle and shifting, aided by the stepchild of illumination that was the sun's reflection off the moon. Ana moved quickly across the cold gray floor, feeling like Cinderella in her ball gown, in a hurry to get the job done before her purloined vehicle turned into a pumpkin.
It was much easier to be stealthy by herself. Even if the security forces—or Infinite Army or whomever—had replenished their numbers and increased their awareness, she was a shadow, only appearing briefly when a streetlight entered through a window that hadn't yet fully succumbed to the grime.
The feeling rose again within her that there was more to this decrepit place than even those enlisted to safeguard it would have known. There was somewhere in here a child, taken from familiar surroundings, just like he r brother, trapped by strangers with nowhere to go. She could feel it just as she could feel her heart beating in her chest.
The telltale heart drew her from shadow to shadow . Steeped in darkness she moved deeper inside the building. Boxes hid her movement as she crept past one guard and then another. She avoided every place they'd passed or inspected in the first run-through. They hadn't skipped over anything, she knew,
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