Andrew Mackay - Pink Symphony

He stood up straight and made for the bedroom with Jamie’s hand in his. “Come on, son, let’s go tell her.”

Emily’s incessant sobbing flew out of the bedroom and showed no sign of halting.

Tony peered around the door, not wanting to disturb her moment of sadness. “Emily?”

Jamie looked up at him with an cherubic smile. His stepfather couldn’t help but feel a shudder roll down his spine. Moments ago he viewed Jamie as just an average little boy. Now, with the astonishing connection he’d made, the little boy seemed more mature.

Certainly wiser…

USARIC’s R&D institute, much like its headquarters at Cape Claudius, was so big it had its own zip code. Maar had become the sole major shareholder of the company now that Dimitri Vasilov was no longer breathing.

The research and development institute housed hangers designed to test thruster and engine capabilities. Much of Manning/Synapse’s beta testing of the Androgyne series with the American Star Fleet had taken place at this location.

This evening, it served as a discreet embassy to protect the one man who’d yet to be assassinated – Maar Sheck.

He stepped out of the tubular elevator cage and into a vast scientific laboratory.

Like the animal compound at USARIC HQ this clandestine set-up was as sinister, if not more so. Though he rarely frequented the science division (the nerds and tech-heads had that all covered) he always marveled at the technology on display.

No such luxuries could be afforded now, though, as Kaoz marched him and Crain along the observatory gangway several feet above the work parapet.

“How long do I have to stay down here?” Maar walked past a colossal slab of ceramic being polished by six men wearing breathing apparatus.

“As long as it takes, Maar,” Kaoz said. “News has just broken of what’s happened, so you’ll be down here for at least another couple of months.”

“ Couple of months ?”

“At least.”

“Ugh, this is a nightmare.”

“Unless you want to go up for air and risk getting your head blown off, then yes.”

“God damn it,” Maar pointed at the dead of a wall at the end of the gangway. A dim red bulb rotated just above it. “Are they here?”

“Yes.”

Maar continued down the metal strip and waved them on. “Good, I want a full report on the subject capture, please. They better have good news for me.”

The wall split in two as the men approached toward it. Kaoz lifted his mouthpiece in front of his lips and hit a button on his wrist. “Oxade, this is Kaoz. Come in.”

The sound of an attack vehicle roared through his earpiece. “This is Oxade, over.”

The clandestine bunker lit up as the three men entered. Maar placed his hands on his hips, “So, this is home, is it?” he asked himself as he looked around the featureless room.

“For the moment, yes,” Crain said. “You’re safe here.”

“Do my family know?”

“Oh! Good Lord, no. They can’t know your whereabouts.”

Kaoz hit a button on the wall, forcing the doors to shut behind him. “Maar wants a sit-rep on the subject capture.”

The moon was full tonight.

A female Siamese sniffed around a patch of fresh grass and mud in a desperate hunt for food. The dried flakes of dust began to rumble back and forth like a marbles on a vibrating trampoline.

Alert, her ears pricked up, “Meow.”

The mud cracked apart as the sound of a furious engine blanketed her from behind.

She hopped around, trying to find the source of the noise. Two giant headlamps blinded her as she howled for her life.

P’TATCH! SWISH-SWIPE !

A brown grid enlarged in front of her eyes. Her feet shot into the air. The tomb of rope tangled in her claws as she somersaulted and landed in the back of a jeep.

“Maaoooww,” she squealed through her soft but venomous prison.

“Got her,” Oxade yelled at the driver from the passenger side of the 4x4. He thumped the USARIC logo on the outside of the door. The Siamese squealed in terror as it clamped eyes on a dozen captured cats in the back. As the vehicle sped through the bumps in the ground, the roped cats slammed into each other.

“Sorry, Kaoz. You were saying?”

He clutched the window-mounted machine gun and flicked the attached flashlight to life. The ground illuminated as they sped up, searching for more of the escapees.

“Maar wants to know how many you’ve caught.”

“Uh, hang on,” Oxade turned to the back of the 4x4 and performed a hasty head count, “Around twenty or so. We have other units out looking for them. You know what herding cats is like.”

“Okay, I’ll tell him,” Kaoz said before cutting the connection dead.

Two American bobtails – one orange, one white – hid behind a tree, exhausted from their escape from the compound. Not the fastest of felines, they’d become separated from the others who’d stormed ahead.

The 4x4’s headlamps began as dots in the distance but expanded the closer they got to them.

“Meow,” the orange bobtail nudged the white’s behind, running toward the Port D’Souza peninsula on the Gulf of Mexico – a glorious stretch of water lit up by the full moon.

Orange bobtail found the strength to continue toward the section of land that encroached the water, leaving the fatigued white cat behind.

VROOM, VROOM !

“I think I can see another one,” Oxade said to the driver, “Quick, to the left. Look, there. You can see its stupid cat’s eyes.”

“Meow,” the white bobtail exclaimed and ran away from the vehicle’s path.

Oxade took both handles of the gun as the driver floored the gas, frightening the life out of the cat. It jumped into the air and hissed, bushing up its tail.

Oxade opened fire on the cat.

THRAAAA-TA-TAT-A-TAT!

“Here, kitty-kitty-kitty…” he shouted as the bullets chewed up the grass as it hopped around like a cowboy having its feet fired at it by a drunken ne’er-do-well.

“Rowwaaarrr!” she screamed, tumbling around the exploding patches of mud.

“We got a live one,” Oxade yelled at the driver, “I think this one’s for the net. Back up.”

The vehicle screeched to a halt, flinging mud out in front of its bumper.

The hellish red reverse lights sprang on, flooding the white bobtail’s scared face. She turned around and ran off in the opposite direction.

VROOOOM!

The vehicle spun its wheels and darted backwards at full speed. Oxade swung the machine gun toward the trunk of the SUV and aimed it at the cat as the vehicle backed towards her.

“Faster, man. C’mon!”

“I’m trying,” the driver shouted into the rear view mirror. He carefully avoided veering off the already-beaten track.

“Closer… closer … come on to daddy, you dumb critter,” Oxade whispered, aiming the sight down on the cat’s behind. “Now!”

He yanked back on both triggers.

P’TATCH !

A net blasted out from the barrel and javelined over her as she ran.

“Got her!”

SWISH-SWIPE ! The net swished across the mud, wrapped itself around the white Bobtail’s hind legs and swung into the air like a fierce fairground ride.

“Meeoooowwwwaaaaahhhh!”

She slammed to the opened deck in the back of the vehicles with dozens of fellow captives. The black Siamese clawed and chewed at the rope, trying to burst free. She suddenly looked up at the nasty man sitting atop the roof.

“Attention, please, my furry friends,” Oxade squatted and clapped his hands together, “Now, all of you have been very naughty, haven’t you? And you know what happens to bad pussycats, don’t you?”