Fingerprints

Thirty-seven

Newt gave Thomas one last nod, before turning on his good heel and jogging off down the corridor, followed by his younger sister. Thomas's plan was, as always, stupidly risky. They were each taking half of the shipping containers, the two girls having to convince the others to follow them and escape quietly whilst Brenda and Minho distracted the guars on either doorway into the room. It was stupid, and Newt would usually never agree with splitting up, but he knew it had to be done, and he trusted Thomas to be able to look after himself.

They made their way to the second doorway quickly, and the blond grinned inwardly when he found no guards, clearly distracted by whatever Minho and Brenda had set up. Scanning for security, he shot out the cameras he could see and pressed his radio down.

"Ready when you are."

"Ready."

"Good luck Rambo." he scoffed softly, nerves and exhilaration beating at his chest.

"See you on the other side buttercup."

Newt and Sonya stayed close to the floor as they made their way into the room, cocked gun close to his chest. They made a quiet beeline for the three containers assigned to them, getting to the first one quickly. Newt nodded and kept watch as his sister unlocked the large bolt and tugged the metal door open.

"Sonya?" He heard, scanning for guards or cameras. The huge room was eerily quiet, the only noise the distant creak of another door, as Teresa and Thomas began to work.

"No time to explain. We're getting out of here. Stay close to me, and don't say anything." the blond girl murmured firmly, leaving no room for argument. She ushered them out, and her elder finally got a look at them. The shipping container wasn't a very big one, but he could count at least fifty people, all dirty and beaten. Some glared at the blond, some fearing the gun he was holding as they blinked in the new blue lights. Sonya nodded to them all, the group huddling close together as they made their way to the second container. So far, everything was going well. Too well.

The second container was empty within another minute, a few small protests that Sonya quietened with a wave of her hand. The group of about one hundred moved to the final container, undoing the latch and helping the people out like the others.

"Nobody move." Came a calm voice behind them. Newt whipped around from where he was stood, helping an elderly woman, to see two guards, with guns pointed to Minho and Brenda's heads. The two were leaning on each other for support, beaten black and blue. But the thing that truly made Newt's heart drop, was their eyes. They both looked so helpless, and, scared. The flare they both possessed had long died, and now they only eyed Newt with fear and hope.

"I can make a deal with you." The first guard spoke, the one with Minho in his grasp. Anger flared up inside the blond, who still had his gun slipped behind his back. "You tell me which one of you is Samuel Newton, and we'll let the rest of them go." No one said anything. Newt's mind was racing. How did they know him? What did they want? What should he do? "If you don't give yourself up, first off, I'll shoot your little friends here, then start picking off this sorry bunch. And we wouldn't want that now would we? So give yourself up, and no one has to get hurt! Doesn't that sound great?" He grinned smugly. The brit caught Minho's eye, who shook his head.

"I'm here." Newt spoke, stepping forward. "I'll come with you if you want, but let these people go." He said firmly. Sonya gripped his free hand, Newt glancing back at her.

"Newt..no.." she whispered.

"Son'. Get them out. I promise this isn't the end. Ok? I'll find you." He kissed her hand, eyes full of as much certainty and firmness as he could manage. It seemed to install something in the girl, because she gave her brother a curt nod and stepped back.

"Come with me. You have a meeting with someone very important." The guard chuckled, Newt stepping forward toward his friends.

"Not yet. Not until I know these people got out safe." he motioned to the others, who were all staring in fear and disbelief of the situation.

"Why of course. Go on now blondie, run along." the guard smiled his sickly sweet smile at Sonya, making her brothers fist clench. No one talked to Sonya that way, he'd make them black and blue first. But he had to keep his cool, as the group hurried from the room, his sister giving him a lingering glance after them. Newt smiled at her the best he could, before she disappeared behind the corner. Then a fist met his face.

He stumbled backward, dazed and bewildered, before he felt another blow, which sent him to his knees. The world blurred, noises and voices turning to ringing. He couldn't feel, couldn't see, couldn't hear. He watched a blurry figure knelt down next to him, grinning sickeningly.

"Come on blondie, stay with me now. You have to be in good shape for your meeting." he encouraged condescendingly. The blond spat back blood in his face.

"Go to hell." He was yanked to his feet, body and mind swaying. Newt stumbled into Minho, who clearly had a little more control than himself. "Whats happening Min'?" He whispered, ringing subsiding and vision returning.

"I don't know mate, but we'll figure it out. As long as the people got out, that's what matters. If Sonya and Teresa can get out, so can we." he murmured. Brenda nodded, the three keeping in line as they were forced across the large room. When they rounded a corner, the blonds heart sank.

Teresa and Thomas were being held back by two guards, two people stood leering above them. Ava Paige, and a man Newt didn't recognise. The one piece of good news, was that the two didn't seem hurt, even scratched, and the shipping containers were empty, a similar deal clearly haven taken place. The three were forced to their knees in front of Thomas and Teresa, the man slinking behind them. Newt met Thomas's eye.

Are you ok?

I'm fine. Are you?

I'm ok. I'm sorry.

Don't be. None of this is your fault.

The man interrupted their silent conversation by yanking on Newt's hair, getting Thomas's attention.

"Ah, Thomas." His voice was smooth and alluring, and could have easily lulled the blond into a false sense of security if he hadn't had him beaten up, had him kneeling on the floor and was now pulling on his hair. What Newt wanted to know though, was how did he know Thomas? "I've waited so long for this day."