Chapter 10: Factory of Cheese

When I returned to awareness I was lost. I lost my train of thought. I didn’t know where I was. It took me a moment to remember my current name. What else was I forgetting? I remembered a stabbing pain in my butt and the sweet and bitter taste of some sort of opium-based drug—so much for being immune to drugs and alcohol. I opened my eyes.

“It’s about time you woke up!” Willard snarled. “We’re going to stand you up and move you to the auction floor.”

I recognized Gail when she helped me to my feet. I managed to frisk both Willard and Gail. Willard had a large automatic—a .45? Gail had a small automatic—perhaps a Browning Model 1910. I also noted how strong both Gail and Willard were. They applied effective come-along holds—I wasn’t going to get out of those wrist locks. Surviving the Ares Boys Academy and working in the clandestine services required paranoia. Just because I was paranoid didn’t mean that nobody was out to get me. I kept fading in and out. Was I hung over? I saw Billie suspended between two men and she looked as bad as I felt. Billie was missing her collar—she and I were completely naked. At least Billie’s hair had been brushed. The six of us were on the stage and Miss Smith announced the Dunn Twins Bobbie and Jackie. The bidding started and I kept dozing off—what did they give me?

“Sold for $17,500. Mr. Green, do you want to take possession now?”

The two of us were wrapped in a blanket while we hugged, and we were carried outside and dumped in a trunk. I quickly lost track of movement. Hopefully, Billie knew where we were.

“The word is Alamo,’ I told Billie. “When I say that word, everybody dies. Kill the closest enemy and then take out the next. If you can get a weapon immediately, use it. When we escape, it will be easier if there’s nobody left alive to object.”

“Athena might be disappointed,” Billie reminded me. “If you kill everybody, dead men tell no tales.”

“How many humans have you killed?” I asked Billie. She stiffened up. It was too dark to see her face. “Have you been hunting? Killed a farm animal for dinner? You have me beat in formal martial arts. You have a brown belt. If my memory isn’t too scrambled, you boxed and wrestled, too, I’d be no match in a match. That was a clumsy turn of phrase.”

“I got your meaning. If you hold back, you’d lose.”

“Do NOT handicap yourself. Hit your target with every bit of power you can muster. Hit him with your best shot.,” I said. “And either of us can call ‘Alamo.’ If you call it, I’ll take out the nearest enemy and probably get a second one as well. After you get one, don’t admire your work—take on a second one. Better yet, don’t call ‘Alamo’ until we have only one or two to deal with. Preferably when they have weapons.”

At that point the car stopped, the engine shut off. A moment later the trunk opened, and we were hauled out in a drafty garage, the blanket pulled off us. We were able to stand while supporting each other. The chill felt like it was below freezing. Two men led us to an elevator—the woman’s presence surprised me. It was Zara.