Under the cover of darkness, Spencer slowly crept his way down the dilapidated street outside the abandoned factory, slipping from one shadow to the next. No longer was he wearing his ratty hoodie and trousers, having been replaced with a jet black ensemble that clung to him like a second set of skin. It allowed him to blend into the darkness around him, rendering him nearly invisible–nearly. The only flaw was the dark grey bandana that now masked the lower half of his face and which was adorned with neon green crosses that all but glowed in the night.
When Spencer had first been told to put on the clothing found inside the wooden box by the kidnapper, he'd immediately questioned the purpose of such a bandana. In his mind, it would only make any attempt to go unnoticed that much harder to accomplish. However, the kidnapper responded that the patterns and colour on the bandana were the gang's insignia and could potentially help him blend in if he ever got spotted. And so, reluctantly, Spencer had put it on, despite knowing it would only make his job twice as hard and take even longer, as quickly became evident.
After barely a minute of travel, Spencer soon found himself forced to hide in the shadows, to quieten his steps and slow his breathing. No longer were the dimly lit streets empty and abandoned, gradually filling up with scattered figures, none of whom looked particularly friendly. Thankfully, any sound he might have made was overshadowed by the blaring noise of Techno music that swallowed the silence of the night and got louder the closer he got to his destination. Still, he moved with caution, especially as the streets grew thick, not just with regular hoodlums, but with gang members from the very organisation he was ordered to attack: the Ferrymen.
At this point, seeing just how many there were prowling the street, despite still being a few minutes away from arriving at their base, Spencer couldn't stop the rising dread curling in his gut. The sheer madness of what he was meant to do hit him all at once as he was confronted with the bloodthirsty criminals all around him, and for a moment, he wanted to run away. But he didn't. Because Spencer knew exactly what was at stake if he failed to complete his mission. So instead, despite the deafening thump of his heartbeat, he continued forward through the shadows, sneaking past the cluster of deadly gang members loitering nearby.
Luckily for Spencer, as he scrutinised the many gang members in question, it soon became clear they weren't in peak condition. From their swaying bodies, slurring words and the unmistakable stench of alcohol, he quickly realised they were drunk. Still, the path ahead wasn't without trouble. Multiple times, he was forced to quickly jump to the nearest form of cover due to a sudden glance being cast his way. Even so, he slowly pressed on, preserving his cover until, finally, he reached his target–the Ferrymen's base of operations.
The moment he arrived, Spencer quickly hid behind the wall of a neighbouring building as he saw the swarm of gang members all around him. From there, he cautiously peeked his head around the corner, giving himself a clear line of sight to the front entrance of the building in question. Upon doing so, his gaze immediately settled on the two muscular men in bright red jackets standing beside it, scanning the street with serious expressions on their faces and rifles in hand.
At the sight of the dangerous weaponry the gang members openly carried, Spencer did his best not to let his fear take over and maintain his focus. Once he confirmed that everything matched the kidnapper's description, he quickly pulled back before beginning to make his way to the other end of the building, away from the noisy and crowded street. As soon as he had done so, after making sure the coast was clear, he stuck his head out to an empty sidewalk sitting beside an outstretched ocean.
The first thing that caught his eye was the ancient-looking dock just a short distance away. More specifically, he couldn't help but notice the myriad of men in red clothing running to and from the docked ships, hauling large crates and containers toward a building not far away. For a second, Spencer wondered what they could be transporting, remembering what he had heard about the Ferrymen's smuggling operations. However, such thoughts were quickly cast aside as he rapidly shook his head and cleared his mind, knowing he couldn't afford to be distracted. Instead, he turned his attention back to the Ferrymen's base of operations, where he was instantly greeted with a familiar scene.
Just like with the front entrance, two armed men in crimson jackets could be seen standing guard beside what Spencer assumed was the back entrance into the building. However, that was as far as similarities went. Upon closer inspection, Spencer noticed just how lax and casual the two gang members appeared to be in comparison to the two men standing guard at the front entrance. One of them, an older-looking man appearing in his early forties, wasn't even holding his rifle. He had it resting on the wall of the building beside him as he stared out towards the lurching ocean with a blank gaze.
Seeing this, Spencer finally began to act. With a trembling breath, he slowly reached his hand towards his lower back, his finger brushing the cold steel tucked into his waistband. A few seconds later, they returned tightly wrapped around the grip of a large, matte black pistol that he had gotten from the wooden box. Instantly, unlike when he had previously held his own pistol, Spencer found himself filled with a sense of power and control, an intoxicating and dangerous feeling.
In that moment, it took every ounce of restraint he had to keep the surge of power from consuming him, to stay clear-headed and avoid doing something reckless. Instead, he simply stood motionless in the shadows, gaze locked onto the two gang members with an unerring focus as time slowly crawled by. Even after twenty minutes had passed, Spencer still hadn't moved from his position, despite the growing unease and tension coiling tighter in his chest.
'Goddamn it, that prick better have been right.' Spencer thought as he shifted his weight from one foot to another, unable to hide the nervousness he felt as he recalled his conversation with the kidnapper less than an hour prior.
"So what's the plan?" Spencer asked with a fair amount of worry present in his voice.
"It's elementary, my dear Spencer. Our first goal is to get you inside the warehouse."
"What, am I going to disguise myself as a member of their gang or something? He guessed, to which the kidnapper promptly burst into laughter.
"Hahaha, there isn't a chance in hell that anybody, not even a child, would believe you were a gang member!" He said in between chuckles. "No, no, the plan is much easier than that. You see, the warehouse has only two points of entry, the front and back doors, both of which will be guarded by two armed members of the gang. You are simply going to enter through the back exit by sneaking past the two armed guards."
"Wow, how genius!" Spencer proclaimed. "And how, pray tell, do you expect me to sneak past two armed gang members without first getting riddled with bullets in the process?" He said sarcastically, far too stressed and panicked to care about his attitude towards the kidnapper.
"I was getting to that. You see, the Ferrymen have a rotation system with the men standing guard. After an hour, those at the front entrance will head to guard the back once they are relieved. However, from extensive observation, we found that the men standing guard over the back entrance rarely wait for their replacements to arrive before they leave. This creates a small gap before the men from the front entrance arrive, where no one is guarding the door, allowing you to sneak inside."
"That's your oh so brilliant plan?" Spencer questioned in complete bafflement the moment the kidnapper finished. "To just hope that they leave the door unguarded long enough for me to sneak inside? What if they just don't? Or if they do, but there isn't enough time for me to sneak inside before the new gang members arrive? Is there no other plan?"
"Actually, there is. You could use the arsenal of weaponry inside the wooden box and force your way inside through a rain of blood and bullets. But since you're too much of a coward to do that, if I were you, I would spend less time whining and more time praying that you can sneak inside. That is, if you ever want to see your daughter in one piece." The kidnapper spat, his voice laced with cruel delight, while Spencer stood in paralysed silence, helplessness gripping his very soul as the awful truth sank in that the kidnapper was right. All he could do was pray he could sneak inside.
Suddenly, Spencer was snapped out of his memories as his attention was captured by the sound of voices drifting from the two gang members stationed by the door. Fortunately, thanks to the booming techno music erupting from within the building, the two men were forced to shout in order to be heard despite standing next to one another. This allowed Spencer to listen in and hear what was being said.
"Thank fuck, it's finally been an hour. Let's go." Said the older man on the right with a stretch, bending down to retrieve his gun that he had left resting on the wall.
The moment Spencer heard those words, a wave of relief and joy washed over him as it appeared the kidnapper's plan was actually working. Holding his breath, he watched as the older gang member began to make his way towards the door, mentally preparing himself to run for the door once they were gone and the coast was clear. Unfortunately, just before the man was about to reach it, the other gang member, who appeared far more nervous and only looked to be in his early twenties, finally responded.
"Won't we get in trouble if we leave now? Shouldn't we wait for the others to arrive first and take over?"
Instantly, Spencer felt his heartbeat stop in terror as he suddenly saw the older gang member come to a stop. Any trace of joy he had possessed was promptly replaced by overwhelming anxiety. He looked between the two gang members in a blind panic as he waited to see the effect the young man's words had. All Spencer could do was pray the older gang member wouldn't listen and continue with his decision to head inside before the two men from the front entrance arrived.
Thankfully, for once, after a few tense seconds, his prayers were heard as the older gang member simply waved his hand dismissively towards the younger man. "Pft, do whatever you want, kid. But I'll tell you what I'm not spending another minute out in the fucking cold while I could be getting high as fuck and having my dick sucked inside." And with that, the older man moved forward, opened the rusty back door of the building, and stepped inside.
However, upon seeing this, Spencer didn't relax. Instead, his dread only deepened as he watched in mounting horror as the younger gang member made no attempt to follow. He simply continued to stand motionless by the door, eyes fixed straight ahead, hands clenched tightly around his rifle. It was a sight that left Spencer panicked beyond belief, knowing he was running out of time before the men from the front entrance would soon arrive.
It was then that he looked down towards the pistol still gripped in his hand, and realised he had to make a choice. He could either stay hidden where he was and hope for another chance to sneak inside–though there was no certainty that chance would ever come–or he could go with plan B. He could throw caution to the window, to charge forward while there was only guard in his way and he had the element of surprise, and do what needed to be done to save his daughter.
Faced with such a decision, Spencer didn't know what to do. It was an impossible choice, one that left his brain spinning. Waiting for hours on end for a chance to sneak inside that might never arrive felt like a gamble he couldn't afford. Yet every time he imagined raising the pistol he possessed at the young gang member in front of him, his hands trembled and his breathing grew ragged. Seconds soon passed, and still he couldn't move, caught between fear and necessity, as the edges of a panic attack crept closer. Then, suddenly, it happened.
Just as Spencer felt like his heart was about to explode, he watched as the young gang member let out an agitated sigh before scanning his surroundings. Then, without hesitation, the man lowered the rifle before quickly turning around and following after the older gang member into the building. Seeing all this, to say Spencer was relieved would be an understatement. As he looked at the now unguarded door, it took everything he had just to stay standing as the adrenaline drained from his body. Yet such relief didn't last long.
While the door was now unguarded, Spencer knew that wouldn't be the case for long. The gang members guarding the front would soon be arriving, and the second they did, his chance of slipping inside would be gone. If he wanted to go, now was the time. And so, after a quick scan of the area and seeing no one around, with zero hesitation, he burst out from his hiding spot and into a sprint.
He ran with everything he had, putting every ounce of strength he had into his legs. The distance from himself to the door couldn't have been more than a hundred metres. Yet in the moment, as he ran exposed, visible to anyone who happened to pass by, it felt more like a thousand. Throughout it all, Spencer's eyes stayed trained on the corner of the building, gripped in fear that at any moment, gang members would suddenly appear and catch him in the open. Luckily, that didn't happen, and he soon managed to reach the building without a problem–besides his laboured breathing and desire to collapse onto the floor.
'God, I really need to get into shape.' Spencer thought, leaning against the brick wall of the building as his vision warped and wobbled.
Still, despite feeling as if he was going to faint, he didn't stop, quickly crossing the remaining distance between himself and the door. The moment he did so, he pressed his ear tightly against its cold, rusty exterior, trying to figure out if there was anybody present on the other side. Unfortunately, the deafening music still being played from within made this infinitely harder, leaving Spencer unable to figure out exactly what lay beyond the door. At least not before a pair of voices drifted over and caught his attention.
Hearing who he immediately assumed to be gang members heading his way to take over guarding the door, Spencer felt his racing heart plummet with anxiety. He had run out of time. In a matter of seconds, gang members would soon be upon him, and his position would be compromised. If he wanted to escape, then he needed to act. So, despite not knowing what awaited him on the other side, with no other options left, he yanked open the back door of the building and stepped inside.
Before the door had even shut behind him, Spencer had his pistol raised in front of him, held in tense and trembling hands. Only after he meticulously scanned the new surroundings he found himself in and saw not an inkling of anybody else, did he slowly lower it back down toward the floor. It was then, after taking a moment to carefully listen outside and confirm the men now standing guard outside hadn't seen him enter, that he released a shaky breath and took a proper look around him.