The Collector

Korse took slow, purposeful steps toward the cells, his face the very picture of arrogance and silent gloating. Three of the Killjoys imprisoned and ready to be taken to the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Unit headquarters. Turning to one of the draculoids accompanying him, he gave brief instructions before sending him from the room.

“Get me three Violent Offender Wagons and the owner of this establishment.”

Offering a respectful bob of his head, the draculoid turned quickly on his heels and headed out to make the call to headquarters. The second of the two orders would be unnecessary as Evelyn Hart and her assistant, Sorby, swept into the room.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” Evelyn demanded as she approached the Exterminator, still standing, examining and smirking at the Killjoys.

“I have a warrant for their arrest,” Korse snapped. “And if you don’t want to be arrested for harbouring criminals, you’ll do everything you can to assist me.”

“I will do no such thing!” she snapped in return. “I have a contract signed by Katsumi Miharu, the manager of your own unit, that entitles me to set up this exhibition. And so far, I’ve paid over one hundred thousand carbons for the privilege. So, I will not be handing my exhibits over to you for any reason!”

Opening a folder, Sorby coolly withdrew a set of papers, a copy of the contract, and handed it to Korse to examine. Snatching the papers, Korse cast his eyes over the contents, growing angrier by the second.

“Oh,” Party laughed. “So close, Korse!”

Throwing the contract back towards Sorby and not caring that it fluttered to the floor, Korse marched to Party’s cell and looked him coldly in the eyes.

“On the contrary, Poison,” he smirked. “You haven’t read the contract, have you?”

The amusement was suddenly lost from Party’s eyes and he frowned in concern; what was Korse planning? Yes, it was bad enough locked up in these cells intended for exhibition, but at least this way, their friends would know exactly where they were and could attempt a rescue. If Korse were to manage to get any or all of them to the BLI Headquarters, there was no telling what might happen to them.

“I don’t know what you think is happening here, Exterminator Korse,” Sorby stepped forward, picking up the dropped copy of the contract. “But it quite clearly states that the exhibits are ours, bought and paid for, and that we may keep them to do with as we see fit.”

Korse turned a cruel smile toward Sorby.

“The contract refers to the disruption of the operation and content of the exhibition. The exhibits are listed as Party Poison, Fun Ghoul, Kobra Kid and Jet Star.”

“So?” Sorby snapped. “If you’re going to suggest that because we don’t have their given names that it’s null and void, then…”

Korse waved a hand to interrupt the man and such was his presence, Sorby stopped speaking, finding himself somewhat unnerved by the fact of it.

“No,” Korse chuckled unpleasantly, “but I like your thinking. The exhibition is not yet operational, and is incomplete. In short, you do not have an exhibit in place to disrupt.”

“That does not give you the right to…”

“I have the right to remove your exhibits and question them. They are rebels and I need to interrogate them.”

The draculoid who Korse had sent for back up returned and offered a respectful nod.

“Exterminator Korse, sir. One of the VO Wagons has arrived.”

Korse nodded. “Fetch the restraining board; I want Party Poison taken back to headquarters immediately.”

“Absolutely not!” Evelyn shouted angrily. “How dare you come in here and…”

Korse drew his gun and raised it, not aiming directly, but pointing it in her and Sorby’s general direction. He was in no mood for an argument.

“When my men are returned and ready, you will allow them access to Poison’s cell. Do you have any method of rendering him unconscious?” Korse paused. “Well, do you?” he snapped.

“Yes,” she replied, her tone clipped.

She was furious that in her own property, she could be threatened by an Exterminator. Especially as she had gone to such lengths as to have a contract drawn up.

“Miles,” she turned to Sorby. “Contact Miharu, let her know what’s going on. I’m certain that she didn’t have this in mind when she agreed.”

Korse sneered unkindly. As a circle of draculoids prevented Sorby from leaving.

“Who do you think told me they were here?” he laughed. “Miharu will do whatever it takes to rid the world of these rebels. Now, drug him and open the cell. I am taking him.”

“He is my property!” Evelyn insisted.

“You’ll get him back,” Korse finally explained. “As much as I’d like to wipe his memory and parade him as a BLI drone for all the rebels to see, I think this is far crueller for him.”

Korse spared Party a glance, smirking at the idea of the man who had caused so much trouble being held in a small transparent cell for the remainder of his life.

“You can take one, not all three,” Evelyn relaxed at the words.

“I need them all,” Korse demanded.

“One at a time,” she insisted. “Miharu would agree, I’m sure. As a gesture of good faith.”

“Very well,” he conceded.

Inside the cells, having watched the exchange, the three Killjoys appeared nervous and concerned. They were hoping he would be overruled; as desperate as their situation was in the museum, it would be ten times worse if Korse had them.

Reaching for the remote in her purse, Evelyn was already pressing a button when Kobra rushed to the front of his cell.

“No!” he shouted, fearful for his brother. “You want one of us? Take me. Party doesn’t know anything I don’t know.”

“Touching,” Korse chuckled as Kobra slapped his hand on the transparent wall in anger. “But I suspect he does,” he added turning a meaningful glance toward the red-haired Killjoy.

Party stared angrily back in return. At first, he didn’t notice the light fruity smell that permeated through the air. Only when he found himself blinking and swaying lightly did he realise what was happening.

“Party,” Ghoul frowned unhappily – aware of how powerful and fast acting the drug was. “Sit down before you fall.”

Party hadn’t expected the drug in the form of a gas pumped into the cell. It seemed so unnecessary; Korse and the draculoids were all armed. Yes, he could have put up a fight, but it would have been pointless – they had Ghoul and Kobra and as such he was easily threatened with their safety. Now beyond coherent thought, he wasn’t even certain he had heard Ghoul speak. He slumped heavily to his knees, falling sideways into the corner.

Ghoul moved alongside him, desperate in his frustration that there was nothing he could do to help him. Already, the remaining gas was being pumped out of the cell and the door unlocked.

“We’ll get out of this, Party,” Ghoul whispered, as he watched two draculoids enter the cell carrying a long resin board.

It was similar in shape to a surfboard but with cutaway sections and holes down the length of both sides and at regular intervals in two lines either side of the centre. Immediately it became apparent why. From a pocket on the underside of the board, the draculoids pulled a handful of thick Velcro straps. Placing Party, without care, onto the board, they set about fastening several straps around his arms, legs, waist and chest. One strap on its own, perhaps he could have pulled apart, but the sheer number, Ghoul counted ten, would hold anyone securely, even without the drug, that he knew would leave Party disorientated and weak on waking.

Lifting the end at which lay Party’s head, one of the draculoids pulled a lever, releasing a small set of wheels at the other end. Exiting the cell, the draculoids waited for Korse.

“When I’ve finished interrogating him, you’ll get him back,” he announced.

“How long will that be?” Evelyn pressed, still fuming at his treatment of her.

“That will depend how stubborn he is, won’t it?” he smirked.

“I won’t have my exhibition delayed,” he retorted. “I’m expecting to receive Jet Star either today or tomorrow and I want to open shortly after that. I’ve sunk a great deal of money into this.”

Both Ghoul and Kobra turned their heads in her direction as she announced the imminent arrival of their friend. Had he been captured too? Their situation was looking bleaker by the moment.

“I’m sure you’ll cope,” Korse began only to be interrupted.

“I want to know when I’m getting him back,” she insisted. “I’m being accommodating enough.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t asked for a receipt,” he mocked in return.

“That might not be such a bad idea!”

“You’ll get him back soon enough,” he growled. “He’s not going to hold up to my interrogators for long,” he added with a sly smile.

“I wouldn’t bet on that!” Ghoul yelled, partly in frustration and partly to cast doubt on his early return, hoping that she might somehow be able to prevent his removal.

But his words were ignored by Korse who, with a flick of his wrist and one finger extended, indicated to the door and strode out, followed by the squad of draculoids, one of whom was wheeling the still unconscious form of Party Poison, strapped to the restraining board.

Evelyn huffed her irritation as she and Sorby followed them out. Left alone, Ghoul walked slowly to Kobra’s side of the cell, both devastated by the turn of events.

“Ghoul,” Kobra stared at his feet, finding it difficult to make eye contact – it seemed that Ghoul’s words had only served to cause Kobra to worry more. “Do you believe we’ll see him again?”

“Kobra,” Ghoul began, his voice shakier than he had intended.

“Kobra,” he restarted, with more confidence in his voice, although he had no clue where it had come from. “Not only will we see Party again, we’ll see the diner again. We’ll get out of this, Kobra, we have to believe that.”

Kobra looked up, able to make eye-contact at last with the shorter man.

“But you heard her,” Kobra sighed. “She’s got Jet too. I just don’t see how we can get out of this.”

“Oh, ye of little faith!” came a voice, followed by a light chuckle.

Ghoul and Kobra both looked up, startled by the sound. Glancing around to find the source, their eyes were drawn upwards at the sound of another chuckle.

“Jet!” Kobra spoke in a hoarse whisper; elated but remembering to keep his volume down.

Above the pair, a ceiling panel had been moved aside and peering out, Jet Star beaming at them from the vantage point.

“Is Red with you?” Ghoul asked.

“You think she’d let me take all the credit for rescuing you?” he smiled. “Ow! Hey!”

Ghoul grinned up as he saw a hand smack Jet across the back of the head.

“Hey, Red!” he called quietly.

“Is this the little girl you told me about?” Kobra asked, to Ghoul’s amusement.

“What did he say?” Red hissed.

“Sshh!” Jet replied to his incensed companion. “You can kick his ass later, we have to get them out first.”

Jet lowered a long length of thick knotted rope through the panel and swung himself around to thread his feet through the gap in the ceiling before making his way carefully down into the exhibition room.

“Ghoul?” Kobra strolled casually to stand near his friend. “Why do I get the feeling you set me up?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged in reply, still with a mischievous grin plastered across his face. “Is it your snakey-sense tingling?”

Kobra narrowed his eyes at Ghoul who merely winked in reply.

“Your cuteness may hold some sway with Party, Ghoul, but I will kick your tiny ass from here to Zone Six.”

“I’m flattered that you think I’m cute, Kobra, really,” Ghoul batted his eyelashes, “but you know I’m taken.”

Jet turned his head to look at the pair as he held the rope steady for Red to climb down.

“Kobra?” Jet feigned disappointment. “Flirting with your brother’s boyfriend? That’s cold, man.”

“Wh-what? No!” Kobra stammered. “That’s not…” he sighed, realising Jet was laughing quietly to himself.

On dropping almost silently to the floor, Red turned an angry glare to the only person in the room she had not yet met. Why did everyone have to call her a little girl? It was getting beyond a joke now. Kobra stared back, a faint smile pulling at his lips, his eyes settling on hers and softening into an inquisitive and appreciative expression.

“You are not a little girl,” he said softly. “You’re beautiful!”

Red was taken aback by the comment, and momentarily considered the possibility that it was insincere. Her defensive stance softened under Kobra’s continued gaze – if he was faking it, she had to admit, he was impressively good at it. She tapped her finger on her lips for a few seconds.

“The jury’s still out on you,” she conceded.

Ghoul spun on his heels and threw his arms in the air dramatically, looking to the ceiling he spoke to no one in particular.

“And the snake-charmer’s at it again!”

Jet smiled to himself; if anyone was going to manage to get in Red’s good books with a single line, it was going to be Kobra.

“I’ll get the guns, can you let them out?” Jet instructed as he headed for the display case.

“Sure.”

Red marched over to Kobra’s cell, allowing her hips to sway a little more than usual.

“Hi, you must be Kobra Kid,” she winked. “I’m Little Red, and I’ll be your rescuer today.”

“I’m entirely in your hands,” he smirked as she hit the release button on the door, causing Ghoul to roll his eyes.

Stepping through into the relative freedom of the room, Kobra cocked his head at Red as she released Ghoul from his cell. Jet could see the younger man frowning as he returned with their guns, plus Party’s. He could see that something seemed to be bothering Kobra, but what exactly that was would surprise them all.

“Scarlet? Is that you?” he finally asked.

Notes