World War III: Smuggler's Run

Chapter 3: Eastbound

It was a misty April morning, light fog shrouded the city. A lonely kid sat silently on the beach, depression swallowing him like a tidal wave. He stared down, the dying waves lapping around his bare feet.

"It's been six months..." He mumbled to himself, tears slowly streaming down his cheek. "Half a year..." It was all he could say before he burst into tears.

Suddenly, a splash was heard, loud and large enough for Roland to notice. He looked up, and his eyes transformed into a state of terror as a flash of deep purple and silver came rolling in with the tide. Roland backed up but it was too late. The familiar-looking sight opened its jaws, rushing towards him...

Everything instantly cut to black.....

Roland suddenly opened his eyes. He gasped for breath but he couldn't loosen his hands for some reason. He then realized his arms were tied behind his back. He couldn't loosen the grip on the ropes. As he tried to flatten his wrists, something sparked in his mind; as if it was making him pay attention to where he was rather than what was happening.

He was surround by the confines of a cargo bay. Cargo boxes, barrels, and containers were scattered and placed all around him and hold down by cargo nets; they were unlabeled. Clever, Roland thought. Where I am...?

As if to answer his question, the entire room suddenly shook and trembled. Airborne?! He looked behind him, seeing that he was tied to the beam of a bulkhead. Oh no... He finally realized he was on board an airborne freighter plane.

This can't be happening... Roland thought.

"Takeover, Pete!" shouted someone familiar.

Peeking through a crevice between the crates, Roland saw a few moving shadows coming from the cockpit. One shadow stood up and moved towards the back, the plane rattling for a bit, while another took its place.

"How much longer?" Asked an voice that was identical to the other voice -- presumably Pete -- as he settled down in the pilot's seat and took control of the cockpit. 

"About halfway there. We just flew over Portugal and are over Madrid now," replied the pilot. "We're going to have to reroute for bit and head due east. We're low on petrol; we'll have to refuel in Athens."

"Better be right, Ben," said someone who Roland immediately knew who it was. "We don't want to attract attention. Remember what happened last time Amanda found out?"

"That wasn't our fault!" Ben said back.

"I'm not saying it was," Dan replied. "I'm saying it'll happen again if we get noticed again! I don't want to get caught with her in charge."

"You don't want want us to fuck up again," Pete said overhead. "Because you just want to impress her..."

"I do not!"

"Sure you do. Anyone can tell..." Pete smirked with a chuckle.

"Shut the hell up, Pete..."

"Just check on the hold, will you?" Ben decided to break up the somewhat-heated agreement. "Seeing as you couldn't care more about your precious cargo..."

Dan climbed down to check on the cargo hold. "Well, well, the package is awake..." Dan said, seeing Roland awake. "And just in time, too. Slept through the whole trip." He said as he walked over to his chained cargo. Noticing an oil barrel, Dan kicked it as hard as he could towards Roland, drenching him in slick, jet-black petroleum.

"Black was always your color..." Dan smirked as he climbed up to join Ben and Pete. Roland just shrug offed his new coat of crude oil and laid his head back against the bulkhead, unaware of where they'll arrive after they refuel in Athens...

Athens

Arriving at Eleftherios Venizelos International Airport in the late afternoon, the team wasted little to no time in Athens. After showing their fake licences and cargo manifests to the airport officials -- hiding Roland in a crate, his mouth taped over -- Ben got access to the fuel truck while Pete ran over the maintenance of the freighter. Dan was about to head inside to pest their 14-year-old silm cargo when they noticed a familiar small plane landing near them. Once halted, it's pilot climbed out, sporting a black-gray fleece and scarf, and walked over to them.

Dan was about to get one of the pistols when Pete casually interrupted. "Calm down, it's only Wikus."

"Hey Pete, Ben, Dan..." the thirty-year-old pilot remarked unconcernedly. "Missed you guys back in Boston."

"It's not like we forgot about you" Ben replied. "We had a deadline, you arrived late;  you know the rules."

"It's exceptional if I brought in my order." Wikus pointed his head towards the small plane. "And I did..."

"Isn't that the same  plane where we captured the runt?" Ben asked Dan and Pete as Wikus walked back to the plane.

"No, it's not," Pete sarcastically replied, then harshly."Of course it is!"

Rolling in a large crate, Wikus placed it on the freighter plane directly next to the one Roland was emplaced in. Once Wikus joined the others and the freighter plane was airborne, Roland thought he heard shivering, thinking that at first it was a schizophrenic effect. When he heard it again, he decided to check it out. Cautiously moving his hand through an air-vent in the crate, he slightly opened the vent on the other crate and peered inside.

In the corner of the crate, there appeared to be a silhouette of a person. A small person, about the same height as him.

"Hello...?" he whispered. The figure suddenly looked up, showing its frightened, midnight purple eyes. Startled and scared, the kidnapped person backed farther into the side of the crate.

"It's okay..." Roland whispered as carefully and soothingly as he could. "It's alright. I won't hurt you..."

Roland slowly held out his left hand. The person backed away slightly, then Roland reassured them. "Trust me..."

Reluctant at first, the person's thin, pale-skinned hand slowly reached out towards Roland's equally pale-skinned hand...

Until both hands were locked in each other's fingers. As they held each other's hands, the other person felt a spark of electricity on her arm, while Roland felt a touch of warmth.

"I'm Roland..."

"I'm Robin..." the girl replied.

Robin. That's a pretty name... Roland thought. She was indeed pretty. Long brownish-black hair, deep purple sweater, matching scarf, and beautiful midnight purple eyes.

"He said you're from Boston?" Roland whispered.

"Yes, from the Little Italy neighborhood. Are you from Boston, too?"

"Yeah, from the Financial District."

"Who are these people? Do you have any idea where they might be taking us?"

"I don't have a clue-"

"HEY!" Dan harshly interpreted, overhearing the two teens' conversation. "Stop talking..."

Letting go of each others hand, Roland and Robin promised to stay quiet until they landed, which neither him nor her had any idea where they were heading, or why...

Finally updated!!! Sorry it took so long, everyone. Also, at 1190 words, this is my longest chapter yet! Sorry to keep you all waiting; repression has gotten into me lately...

Anyway, Happy Holidays!