Dylan Ting sat quietly in the van beside his Asian student, Ru. They waited at the dock. Dylan knew better than to speak; silence said no fear, no hesitation.
A van pulled up beside them and Ru exited the van. Dylan followed suit. Ru greeted the driver, a middle-aged Asian man, and introduced Dylan as his partner, with no names exchanged. The man indicated they should follow. He walked past half a dozen small storage areas, towards an office structure, unlocked the security screen and glass door, entered, and grabbed a folder. Inside the folder, he shuffled through the paperwork, found the one he was looking for, clipped it to the front of the folder, and gave it to Ru with a pen.
Dylan studied the young man; Ru would not have been a day over twenty-five with his small round face and thin lips. Ru signed the paper, handed it back and nodded his thanks. The man handed over a key.
“If you want anything out of it, better get it soon. It will be sunk between seven and ten next Monday or Tuesday morning depending on our workload,” the man said.
Ru smiled. “Excellent, thank you.”
The man escorted Ru and Dylan out of the office and locked it. He nodded at the two men and departed.
Ru began to walk towards their vehicle with the unit key.
“Do we need to get something from the storage container?” Dylan looked back at the row of storage units and containers.
“No, this key is just for safe-keeping,” Ru said, and he turned and threw it high over the dock and into the water.
Dylan gasped in surprise as he saw the key fall into the water and disappear. He turned to Ru and laughed. Ru grinned back.
“Our work here is done,” Ru said. “Hai said you might like to join us to help with a project we’re working on. You know we are going away for a few days. Interested?”
“Sure, count me in,” Dylan said.
“Good. Let’s go find ourselves a bit of action before dinner. Where’s the best joint?” Ru asked in Mandarin. Dylan knew exactly what sort of joint Ru was looking to frequent.
Varying between sitting and lying for the past hour in the backseat of the car, Mitch moved from side to side, trying to keep his leg elevated and find a comfortable position. The compression bandage felt tight and his skin was black with bruising on both legs, fading to yellow around the edges. His arm throbbed from the burn and his ribs reminded him they were fractured with every breath.
“Are we there yet?” Mitch asked from the backseat.
“We would be if I didn’t have to drive at nanny speed in your car,” Ellen said.
“You’re going to have to pull over, sorry Ellie,” Mitch said.
“Didn’t I tell you to go before we left home?” Nick rolled his eyes. He looked at Ellen. “Kids!”
Mitch chuckled. “Not a bathroom stop, I’ve got to stretch. Sorry; my legs are killing me. Soon, Ellie, really soon.”
“Oh sure, hang on,” Ellen said. She drove a little further until she found a widening of the road and pulled over.
Nick alighted and opened the rear car door; Mitch pulled himself out of the car, grabbing one crutch from the floor of the car, and limped out.
“You want a shot?” Ellen asked. “It’s your last one, then you’re on the Tylenol.”
Mitch nodded and hobbled away, breathing heavily. Moving away from the car, Nick lit a cigarette and stood watching him.
Ellen fetched a hypodermic needle from the chilled pack in the car boot.
“We’ll be there in about an hour,” Ellen said to Nick. “We should scope while he sleeps.”
“He won’t sleep. So don’t go planning any romantic candlelit dinners either,” Nick teased her.
“You wish.” She grinned.
After a few minutes, Mitch hobbled over.
“Are you going to give me some cheek?” she asked.
“I don’t have the energy,” Mitch said.
“No I mean, butt cheek.” Ellen held up the needle.
“Oh.” Mitch frowned. “God no.”
Ellen rolled her eyes, moved behind him, pushing Mitch up against the passenger car door, pulled his shirt up and jeans down two inches on one hip and stuck the needle in.
“Ouch, such a rough nurse,” he complained. “No nice bedside manner? No small talk?”
“I’ll give you small talk in a minute.” She frowned at him. “That will teach you to ride me while I’m driving.” She pulled the needle out.
“Yeah, you earned that.” Nick nodded.
“Nice butt though,” Ellen added.
“It’s his best feature,” Nick agreed.
Mitch smirked at the pair. “That’s just great, when a guy’s down, you kick him for good measure.”
“Gee, now I feel bad,” Ellen said.
“Me too,” Nick agreed. “Group hug?”
“You two suck.” Mitch tried to hide a smile as he hobbled to the rear passenger door. He threw the crutch on the floor and lowered himself in. “Come on, driver, step on it.”
Ellen returned the needle to the pack and followed the men into the car. She handed two ice packs over the seat to Mitch, along with a towel.
“Put that on the bruising for a while,” she instructed and then seeing his confusion added, “Well, whichever bruising is hurting the most.”
Soon after they pulled into the parking lot of the Cape Hatteras hotel where the team was staying. Mitch on his crutches, followed Nick and Ellen inside.
“John’s gone all out this time, four bedrooms, two bathrooms, might not go back,” Nick said.
“Boy bathroom over there,” Ellen pointed out, “girl bathroom here. OK boss?”
“Good idea. We don’t want girl germs,” Mitch agreed. He took a room nearest to the exit, entered, closed the door behind him and fell on the bed exhausted.
He heard a knock on the door.
“You alright?” Nick asked.
“Yeah be there in a minute,” he answered and closed his eyes. Just need ten minutes or so to recharge … Mitch woke two hours later when his phone rang.