Monroe

Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy-Five. Fuck you, xoxo, Bob.

Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy-Five. Fuck you, xoxo, Bob.

Bob fell out of the portal and into the room, his mottled green leather armor cinched into place and his staff in hand, ready to deal with the assholes who had kidnapped him and his friends.

He was not expecting to find two cooling corpses. He'd seen his share of injuries at this point. People got tired and careless when you had them delving for twelve hours straight, so when it came to injuries inflicted by claws and teeth, Bob had more experience than even the most veteran of emergency room doctors. The claw and teeth marks on those bodies were just about Monroe-sized.

He looked down at the big Maine-coon, who had landed lightly next to him, also ready for battle, but was now sedately cleaning a paw. "Did you take care of those guys?" Bob asked.

The only response he received was the satisfied/disdain/bored emotions emanating from the big cat.

"I'll take that as a yes," Bob murmured, kneeling down to deliver an ear rub. "Who is the most handsome, powerful kitty in the world?" He asked. "You are, yes, so big and strong," Bob dug his fingers into Monroe's ruff, eliciting a purr from the big kitty, who accepted the praise as his rightful due.

"We need to find our friends," Bob said after a moment, standing up. "There might have been more of these assholes."

Bob walked up to the door and yanked it open. It had been locked, but the concrete the bolt was recessed into burst apart as Bob's tier six strength came into play. He darted into the hallway beyond, which was empty, then headed left. He found another room on his left, the door to which was unlocked. This room was some sort of operational hub, with more than a dozen screens, four of which blared out dull alarms while displaying colored lines which were flat.

He was guessing that meant that he wasn't the only one up and about. Hurrying further down the hallway, the next door he opened contained a welcome sight. Dave and Amanda were standing next to a bed upon which Jessica sat. Dr. White was with them, his mask off, holding a glass of water up for Jessica as she sipped it through a straw.

"I take it you took my escape and Monroe's massacre as an opportunity to affect your own," Bob said as he strode into the room.

"I did," Dr. White replied easily. "As I'm not here willingly, the decision to aid my fellow prisoners was no decision at all."

"You find the nicest places for us to visit," Amanda commented drily before taking two quick steps towards him and embracing him in a surprising hug.

"We'll go to Alaska, have a nice hike," Dave added, clearly quoting something based on Amanda's giggle.

"How is everyone?" Bob asked, giving Amanda a squeeze.

She looked up at him and smiled before letting go and moving back over to Dave.

"Jessica here must not be quite as resilient as the rest of you," Dr. White replied. "She responded much more easily to the massive dose of sedatives that were placed in your food, and I've had to monitor her carefully once we were here." He frowned. "I should have been monitoring her on the trip here, but I was bound and blinded. She didn't have an adverse reaction, she simply responded more naturally, I suppose would be the best way to describe it."

"I'd like to know how they drained our mana," Bob grimaced.

"Ah, this I can help you with," Dr. White smiled as he pulled an object from his lab coat and placed it on the bed, as far from Jessica as he could. It looked for the all the world like a wooden handle with a marble on top of it. "We wrapped your hands around it, and the ball on the top glowed like a lantern. We simply kept your hands in place until the light died."

"How long did that take?" Bob asked as he inspected the item carefully. The handle had been carved with some care, and there was a copper loop at the bottom, which you could use to attach it to your belt or pack. Overall, it looked like a more portable, much less expensive version of the light orbs that Austan made. It lacked any sort of manufacturing marks, and the tiny details and imperfections were further proof that it was a product of Thayland.

"Three, three and a half minutes," Dr. White replied. "Well, except for you. You took nearly five minutes."

Bob nodded and picked up the device. The ball at the top immediately lit up, and Bob could feel a tiny drain on his mana pool. Checking his status, he could see it was draining one mana per second, which under normal circumstances would have been nothing. Curious, he set the device down, and it continued to blaze until he mentally severed the trickle of mana it was pulling from him.

"That's actually a really cool little lantern," Bob muttered, "you could easily socket it into a tripod, or if you were moving, clip it onto a strap to keep your hands free. One mana per second isn't much of a drain, especially not if you're a warrior. I wonder how far you can move away from it before it's not able to pull the mana it needs."

"You're such a dork," Jessica mumbled, "an adorable, sexy dork, but such a bloody dork."

"He is," Amanda agreed, "but now we know that these devices are out there."

"I'm pretty sure," Bob mumbled, picking up the lantern again, causing it to flare to life. It immediately died out again, despite still being in Bob's hand. "Yep, if we'd been conscious and aware, we could have simply cut the mana flow to the device." He picked it up and set it down again a couple of times. "It appears that once you've cut it off from your matrix, you have to direct your mana to power it again." The lantern flared to life again, then cut out.

"At least we know we can avoid being drained if we're awake," Dave noted.

"We can also avoid that by not being in a place where we don't regenerate mana," Bob muttered darkly.

"While I see you've retrieved clothing for yourself," Dr. White began, "I believe I know where they placed your things if you'd like to help me retrieve them."

"Before we do that, can you confirm that the two Monroe took out were the only two here?" Bob asked.

"I believe so," Dr. White replied. "There were a lot more people involved in getting us here, but I think they left after dropping us off."

"Alright," Bob considered the situation. He was the only one wearing armor, and while his friends were tough, for all he knew, there would be bombs on the doors. "I'll go with Dr. White to retrieve our things and possibly find a way out of here, you three stay put, work on getting Jessica back on her feet."

"Vikram Ramachandra," Dr. White introduced himself with a smile. "Although I rather think that having been abducted together, Vikram would be appropriate."

"Vikram then," Bob nodded. "Lead on."

The bunker turned out to be rather small. There were six cells, clearly meant for keeping prisoners sedated and under medical observation, with the already discovered monitoring room sitting squarely in the middle, three cells on each side. There were only two doors on the opposite side of the hallway, one at each end. The first opened up into a barracks of a sort, eight rows of double bunks with lockers on the wall across from them. The second, at the other end of the hallway, was linked to the first by a large bathroom, with six stalls and six showers separated by curtains. The second room was clearly a combination of lounge and kitchen. There was a huge commercial refrigerator as well as a walk-in freezer, both well stocked. Half of the room was occupied by the kitchen and counters, while the other half contained four couches, a large television, and a small pile of books and magazines on end tables.

"I don't suppose you know what language these are in?" Bob asked, holding up what looked to be a magazine dedicated to celebrities.

"Hindi," Vikram replied, shaking his head. He picked up a magazine and inspected the cover. "No address, and nine months old."

"Where do you think they put our stuff?" Bob asked.

"The lockers in the other room would be my guess," Vikram replied.

His suspicion was proven correct, as tearing the doors off the lockers proved easy enough, and their possessions were in the third one he emptied. Bob found two other lockers with clothing and toiletries, but despite searching thoroughly, he wasn't able to find anything to identify their assailants. Even the clothing was devoid of labels.

Bob resigned himself to the gruesome task of searching the bodies, but aside from the voice recorder, found nothing on them save for key cards that worked to open the doors he'd broken. Bob took a dozen photos of each face, going so far as to dump a pitcher of water over their faces to wash away the blood. He then grabbed both bodies and disappeared into his inventory.

Vikram remained silent as Bob went about his grisly work, appearing only slightly surprised when Bob disappeared and returned.

Only one doorway was left, at the far end of the hallway. Bob used one of the keycards to open it and was greeted with a set of stairs. The lighting here was dim, and as they ascended disappeared almost completely.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, Bob found a set of double doors with no apparently locking mechanism. He pushed them open and was greeted with a rush of fresh air. He moved to the top of the stairs and looked around. There was no sign of the bunker at all. There was a gravel road a dozen steps ahead of him, and on the far side, a gas station that appeared to be long abandoned, given the collapsed roof and broken windows. The pumps were long gone as well, although the islands and the sagging overhand gave mute testimony to the building's former purpose.

"Any idea where we are?" Bob asked Vikram.

"None," Vikram replied. "I know we were transported by helicopter, then loaded into a cargo plane, and then taken here by truck, but aside from desperately needing the loo before we arrived, I don't have any real sense of the time involved." The doctor frowned thoughtfully. "Given the urgency, I'd say we traveled for at least twelve hours, perhaps several more. We could be back anywhere."

Bob took a longer look at their surroundings. There were mountains surrounding them, although he didn't see any snow on their peaks. The problem was that Bob wasn't an expert in geology, let alone geography, so all mountains looked pretty much the same to him. He'd seen the difference between the bluffs and buttes in Arizona and the granite cliffs in the Smoky Mountains, but he didn't know the technical differences.

He shook his head and headed back down the stairs, leaving Vikram to follow.

Bob walked into the cell where Jessica had been kept and smiled at his friends, holding up three utterly non-descript canvas gym bags. "These are yours," Bob handed each bag to its respective owner, and Dave then joined them in the hallway while the girls dressed inside. Dave stripped off his jumpsuit and pulled on his jeans and t-shirt eagerly.

"Did you find out where we are?" Amanda asked as she and Jessica left the cell to join them in the hallway.

"Somewhere in the mountains, although I've no idea which mountains or even which hemisphere we're in," Bob replied. "The only thing I could see was an abandoned old gas station. We found some magazines in Hindi."

"Are you from India, Vikram?" Dave asked.

"Bangalore," Vikram replied, "however we are definitely not anywhere near there."

"Where did they get you from anyway?" Amanda asked.

"I'm the head of surgery at Manipal hospital, and I believe I was drugged as well. I remember eating lunch in my office, and the next thing I can recall is having those masked people demanding dosage information for a variety of sedatives and barbiturates," Vikram shook his head.

"Why you?" Bob asked.

"Not to appear immodest, but I've written several papers and completed a large clinical study on the effects of long-term sedation, specifically utilizing a rotating regimen of medications to prevent acclimation and retain efficacy," Vikram smiled sadly. "I lost my wife two years ago, and we were never blessed with children, so I suppose they had thought my absence wouldn't be noticed until after the weekend."

"Well, we are going to take the easy way home," Bob smiled grimly as he pulled a pouch out of his inventory. "You should join us, Doctor Ramachandra," he continued as the ritual began to flare to life in front of them. "We can get you home easily enough once we're back on Thayland. Also, you're not going to want to be here much longer."

Dave, Amanda, Jessica, and Vikram had left through the portal Bob had opened. He stayed behind.

He'd been foolish, he realized that now. He thought he'd been clever, casting wards and weaving barriers to prevent eavesdropping, and all the while one of his friends had been bugged. Hell, he might have been bugged.

He'd read a few spy novels, and he knew just enough to know that he didn't know anything about counter espionage. They'd gotten him with drugged food, another inexcusable mistake. His carelessness could have cost his friends their lives if the group that had taken them chose to view them as an unnecessary complication.

They could have hurt Monroe.

Bob clenched his fists and gritted his teeth as he ascended the stairs. Reaching the surface, he wove an effect over time flight spell, soaring into the sky.

No identification, no labels on their clothing, and even their toothpaste had been in an unmarked white tube. Despite having the bodies, Bob wasn't confident that he'd ever know exactly who had arranged for the abduction.

As he gained altitude, he inspected the area beneath him. He realized that the abandoned gas station was nearly in the middle of a pass through the mountains. There weren't any other structures for miles and no evidence of any habitation. Whoever had built that bunker had chosen an area where they were unlikely to be disturbed or discovered.

Bob had no confidence that the people who abducted him and the people who built the bunker were one and the same.

As he rose higher and higher, he thrust his hand into his satchel and, more importantly, into a pile of mana crystals.

He'd never know who built the facility or who had threatened Monroe and his friends. But there were people who did know. As he continued to cast his ritual, he glared down at the bunker, or where the bunker had been. He was far too high to see it now, despite his acute vision.

That didn't matter. In this instance, close would be good enough.

Finishing the ritual, he smiled savagely as the tungsten rod began falling to Earth.

He might not know who they were, but that didn't mean he couldn't send them a message.