Perils

Meanwhile, back at the airplane hangar, Jonathan, Patrick, Christina and I were all gathered at my electric blue Pontiac Vibe. We were grouped together on the hood. I leaned against it, with Jonathan beside me. The passenger door was shut, but the driver’s door had been opened to get Patrick some first aid supplies for his shoulder wound. Don’t get me wrong, I was thankful that I always made sure to be well prepared for any kind of disaster and I happened to have a kit placed under my seat, in case of emergency.

Christina thought it was ridiculous, but now she was expressing her sincerest apologies and telling me how wonderful I was and that she would never make comments about what I did ever again. But hey, I didn’t blame her. I would do the same thing in her shoes. That’s why it was so easy to forgive her.

In the distance a helicopter appeared to be making a circle in the sky, over the tops of the Downtown buildings. I immediately thought of traffic, as I saw it slowly maneuvering around.

“Where could Saader be?” Jonathan asked me, as though he thought I had the answer.

As if in an answer to our perplexment and Jonathan’s question, the radio, which had been left on began to scream at us. The person’s voice sounded like the teacher in the Charlie Brown cartoons from where I stood leaning against the hood with my brother.

“I got it!” Christina dove in to turn it off but shrieked and jumped into Patrick’s arms, wrapping her hands around her brother’s neck.

“What? What is it?” I immediately turned to my best friend, concerned.

“I-It’s….It’s Brandon!” she stated.

“What about Brandon?”

“They said he’s...all tied up to the top of the Sear’s Tower!”

“The Willis Tower?” I corrected her, confused.

Suddenly it hit me, that was why the helicopter was hovered over the building. I peered past Patrick and Christina and gazed at the contraption. Now it made sense. I turned back to see Patrick sitting in the driver’s seat with his worried look.

“Kaner?”

“Saader, he’s going to fall over the side. He’s tied to the pole, which has somehow been bent over and now he’s dangling over the side,” Patrick relayed the information. He glanced to his captain, hoping the leader of the Blackhawks had a plan of some kind.

“Tazer, what are we going to do?”

“Shut up Peeks, I’m trying to think.” He put his hand to his chin and scratched his beard with his thumb and fore-finger.

“Peeks? Never heard that one before!”

“It stems from Peekaboo. He also calls me Peeksy.” Patrick tossed his head in the direction of the hard-at-thought Captain.

“Why?”

The blond shrugged. “It’s something to do with my initials, “P.K”?”

“Oh.”

“We need to get Downtown. We have to save Saader! He cannot fall to his death!” Jonathan remarked.

“It took you this long to come to that conclusion, man?”

“Don’t patronize me Kanerboo!” the brunette man snapped back, rather annoyed.

Patrick scrunched his face up in disgust and bewilderment. His nose wrinkled up as he repeated, “Kanerboo?”

“Yeah, I heard some chick in the UC call you that. I totally thought it would be worth it to tease you with!”

“Now isn’t the time for that, Jonny, Saader’s in terrible, terrible danger! We need to rescue him. NOW!! Let’s get Downtown!” I stated, smacking my brother on the shoulder.

I walked around to the driver’s seat and grabbed the man who thought that a mullet was a good idea for a haircut. He protested as I clutched the collar of his shirt in my grasp and yanked him up and out of my seat. “Get outta my seat Kanerboo!”

Jonathan chuckled, hopping in the back with a pouty Patrick Kane. He had his arms folded across his chest and looked like a little kid who hadn’t gotten his way for once. He was mumbling to himself, as he strapped the seatbelt over him and then once more folded his arms, leaning against the back of the seat.

The captain leaned over to him and whispered, “Don’t worry, I let Sharpie know about the nickname too.” He watched as his friend’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in an “o” shape.

“Alright, Kanerboo and Tazer that’s enough, let’s get Downtown to the Tower!” I proclaimed into the rearview mirror, attempting to scold them both.


About fifteen minutes later we were standing at the feet of the tallest building in Chicago: The Sears or now Willis Tower. It rose up into the sky about 1,451 feet into the air. It was a 108-story skyscraper and was once the tallest building in the world. It was now the second tallest building in the United States and the eighth-tallest freestanding structure in the world. And it looked gigantic from where we stood, huddled together at the base.

We gazed up to see the faint sight of something sticking out awkwardly from the building. I concluded that this had to be the peril for Brandon Saad.

We learned from the gathered crowd that a woman walking down the sidewalk found a small black disk and was curious to see where it had come from. She had discovered the odd sight above her and radioed the police. And that was when the helicopter was flown in to record the scene. They were working on getting emergency crews to the scene, but we had shown up.

From the helicopter it had been concluded that it was Brandon Saad tied to the top of the building, to one of the poles of the Sears Tower. And it was also said that the pole had been slashed to topple over the side and hang precariously in place, purposefully.

Of course we all knew who had caused this and set it up...it was that miserable Pittsburgh centerman! We continued to gaze in horror at - what looked to be - the swaying pole with it’s hostage strapped to it.

“Hold on Saader, Kanerboo and Tazer are coming!” Jonathan cried, grabbing his teammate by the wrist and yanking him into the building.

“STOP CALLING ME THAT!!!! I’LL START CALLING YOU TOES!!”

“Shut up!”

“SEE, YOU DON’T LIKE IT, DO YOU?”

“I said shut up!!”

I shared a look with Christina and shook my head. “Our brothers…”

She nodded.

We darted into the complex after the two boys. We didn’t want to lose them because if we did, Sidney Crosby might appear and capture them again. And we didn’t want that to happen. We caught up to them, as they darted into the open and available elevator. We slipped in just in time.

“Please, I’m begging you to stop calling me Kanerboo, I don’t like it.”

“Why not?” I asked, “It’s adorable, like you.”

“Thanks, but it sounds more like an insult or taunting name. It’s something Shawzy might chirp an opponent with. I don’t want some goon like Brooks Orpik pulling it out on the ice. I don’t want to hear, “Come on Kanerboo, score a goal. What are you waiting for?” or “Hey, Kanerboo, what’s going on? Why haven’t you scored yet? Are you scared Kanerboo?” And shit like that.”

“You have a point there. But if you keep it within your team…”

“Sharpie’s going to ruin me!” Patrick cried, covering his face with his hands.

“Sharpie won’t ruin you, I’ll tell him to behave.” Jonathan had turned to his friend, elbowing him playfully in the ribs.

The elevator finally dinged at our destination, which was the top floor. We rushed out and onto a platform. Ahead of us looked to be the site of the pole cut down like a tree in the forest. It was in an “L” shape and didn’t look at all steady.

We stood there, swaying in place, as the wind whipped around and through us. The helicopter was rather silent, but now we could hear the terrified and muted screams of the poor Chicago winger, as he clung to life.

“How are we going to rescue him, without losing him?” Christina asked.

I turned to the two boys, who were gazing in horror at their helpless friend and teammate. No one ever wanted to see this happen. And it was strange that it was happening. What had gotten into that fucking Pittsburgh Penguins’ mind to do something so ghastly like this.

“We need to think of something!”

We heard and saw a rope snap around Brandon, as his body dangled downward now, no longer attached to the pole. His wrists, bound together were the only thing managing to keep him from falling to his death. He gazed upward and we could see that he was gagged.

“Sidney Crosby did this?” Patrick’s voice managed to squeak out in shock. He was stunned that someone who they all thought was good could do something so horrible like this to his own kind.

“I don’t know what happened to make him do something like this, but we need to stop him. Someone could get seriously hurt because of this!”

I saw Brandon’s head turn in our direction, his blue-ish-gray eyes wide with trepidation. He attempted to say something to us, but of course if only came out as a pitiful moan. I launched forward and clung to the pole, as though I thought my “herculean” strength could prevent it from detaching and sending the terrified man hurling to the ground.

Brandon shook his head left to right as best he could and tried with his scared eyes to relay a message to me. He seemed to be looking at something past me. I turned and spotted some kind of laser gun that was pointed directly at Brandon and the pole. I gasped, letting go at once and punched the laser’s beam, breaking it into a million tiny pieces.

“Christina, Jonny, Patrick, grab the pole!” I screamed, as I saw it jerk downward.

They all darted forward and clutched onto the pole. However, with Brandon’s unbalanced weight pressuring the rope around his wrists, he slipped out and muffled a heart-wrenching scream as he swiped up and caught one of the wires that had once been wrapped around it.

“BRANDON!!” I howled and dove forward. I launched to the side, almost throwing myself over in the process. I managed to get a grip on Brandon’s shirt. I grunted as I hooked my feet into the bar of the “balcony” rail and tried to pull him to safety.

“Evelyna!” I heard my brother cry out as he came to the rescue and wrapped his arms around my legs, pulling me backward.

Unfortunately the motion caused the pole to snap and Brandon plummeted downward, as I lost a grip on him. I thought quickly and managed to get his hand, holding him. Jonathan mustered his strength with the help of Patrick and Christina and we managed to pull Brandon to safety.

He immediately reached up and pulled the bandana out of his mouth, gasping for air. He leaned against what was left of where one of the poles had been. He was shaking and was extremely tense. The terrified forward clutched onto Jonathan, who tried to comfort him.

After a few heart-stopping seconds, Brandon gazed at me. He was still scared and shaking, but appeared calmer. “Thanks,” he croaked out.

I nodded. “Let’s get him off of here. We need to get him to safety.”

Jonathan with Patrick’s help aided their teammate like a crutch and helped him into the stairwell, and then they headed back down the same path to the elevator. They slipped into an open and available one and rode it back down in silence.

Brandon had a few episodes of terror, as he was reliving his traumatic experience. He managed to reveal to his friends that he had a phobia of heights. Being mature about it, the Captain of the Blackhawks and his partner-in-crime patted him on the back and helped him to get over it.

When they were once more on the safe, solid ground, Brandon collapsed into a chair in the lobby. As I stared at him, I noticed a piece of paper that had been folded up and placed in his breast pocket. He was wearing a light reddish-orange casual dress shirt on. I eyed it curiously and pulled it out.

Christina joined me, as I opened the paper up.

“Another stupid Crosby note.”

“What’s it say?” Jonathan asked, looking at us.

“It’s says:

Evelyna Toews and Christina Kane,

I do sincerely hope you managed to rescue your annoyingly obnoxious brothers from the Blackhawk hangar. Hope they weren’t too badly hurt….but hey, that’s hockey, isn’t it? Isn’t that right Tazer? Maybe he can’t answer since his tongue is too far into Kaner’s sweet mouth!

Oh and I do hope that you didn’t find this on Brandon’s dead body. Gosh, what a horrible sight that would be, eh? I am still puzzled over how such a stellar man could have such a fear as the phobia of heights. Oh well, I don’t care.

As I write this, I am gazing into the petrified eyes of a certain Dallas Star. I’ll give you hint, it’s not the Heart-Throb Seguin! Give up? Okay, I’ll tell you, cause I will enjoy the image I picture you having on your pretty girly face. It’s Valeri Nichushkin. He says, “Mmmese mmmf mmee!” I take it that translated to, “Please help me.” Gosh, that’s so adorable, isn’t it? He wants your help so badly, Evelyna. But I can’t give away his location or clue yet. You have to work for it.

And speaking of that, your next peril clue is this: There’s something “bruin” at the local New England Zoo near Boston. Come to the Bruin Cave if you wish to rescue...Reilly Smith! Good luck, hopefully you find him before the bear does!

Signed,
Evil Sidney Crosby

“That son of a bitch!” I spat after reading the name of the villain, stomping my foot in anger. I saw my brother looking at me in shock. He had one eyebrow raised and he slowly folded his arms in front of him, over his chest.

“You’ve got some explaining to do young lady...what is this? Is Sidney for real? You have a crush on a Dallas Star?”

I gulped, passing Christina the paper. She whispered, “Good luck” to me. But I noticed that Jonathan wasn’t anger, just stunned. I was going to tell him, but I hated that it had come from a letter written by an evil mastermind bastard.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me to the side. “Eve, you’re in love with Valeri Nichushkin?” Man, did it sound weird to hear Jonathan Toews, the Captain of the Chicago Blackhawks talk about a Dallas Star...especially the Star named Valeri Nichushkin.

I nodded, biting my lip. “I have a thing for blond haired men with blue eyes.”

“Why not Kaner?”

I snorted in amusement, picturing myself actually being one of those foolish girls who fell head-over-heels for the young Blackhawk goal scorer. I shook my head, smiling guiltily as I envisioned my mouth locked to his in an endless kiss. “Nah. I think of Kaner as more of a brother. I can’t have a crush on my brother now. No, Kaner and I are just friends. But that Russian...oh man!” I sighed like a helpless romantic.

“So my sister is in love with a Dallas Star, a divisional rival...great?!”

“Oh come on, Jonny. He’s so innocent and sweet. Would you rather I hit on Sharpie...he’s pretty hot?” I teased.

Jonathan’s eyes flew open and he gaped in stunned horror. “No! Anyone but the prankster!”

“Then you are fine with Nichy?”

“Nichy?”

“I call him Nichy…” I looked to my feet, disguising my enormous blush that spread across my cheeks.

“Unbelievable! When were you going to tell me this?”

“I was going to tell you eventually...but I didn’t think I’d have to reveal it because of Sidney Fucking Crosby!”

“Language young lady!” my brother scolded me.

“Fuck that, Sid is going to pay for kidnapping my Valeri!” I snarled. I didn’t care about my brother’s response anymore. I knew he was just shocked, but he was fine with me having a thing with the Russian kid.

We returned to the others. Patrick and Christina were explaining to Brandon what was going on. He seemed lost, but also a little flustered. He didn’t like being a pawn in Sidney’s game, but he was incredibly gracious that they had come to his rescue and in time too.

But I found myself distracted. I was thinking about the poor Russian who was bound and most likely gagged in the “care” of Sidney Crosby. I didn’t like the mental picture I had at all and I desperately wanted to find him and save him.


****

In a car somewhere in Dallas, Texas, Sidney Crosby cursed as he heard and saw the footage of the grand rescue of Brandon Saad from his peril. He also saw Jonathan Toews and Patrick Kane alive as well.

“Damn Blackhawks, they always have to get the upper hand! They always win! But...that’s okay.”

The car jerked to a halt and Sidney emerged from the backseat. He had a private driver, who had driven him to the middle of nowhere. Well, not exactly nowhere, racing in front of the car with no apparent end, was a set of train tracks.

On the other side, was a hilly landscape. It looked very much like the stereotypical scene for a railroad peril from any number of movies and TV shows.

Sidney rounded the vehicle and popped open the trunk. “She can have these victories… because I know, that I’ve got the one thing she cherishes most.” He snickered as he gazed into the trunk.

Valeri Nichushkin struggled against his bonds and made soft whimpering noises, mixed with grunts of distress. He tilted his head up, gazing into the cold eyes of his kidnapper, as he smirked.

“She won’t save you in time, Nichy...you poor, poor Dallas Star…”

Val’s eyes teared up as he made a failed attempt to plead the Captain of the Penguins for mercy. He looked like he was petrified with his eyebrows at an upward slant and the worried, horrified look he wore on his face. Sidney rolled his eyes, as he slammed the lid back down, trapping his helpless captive in darkness once more.

He could hear the muffled sounds from the trunk as the helpless hockey player was desperate to get out and the sweet sound of his struggle reassured the Penguin, making him grin with delight as he leaned against the car.

“No, she’ll never find you and save you on time...it’s the perfect punishment for her!”

Notes

POOR VALERI!!!!! NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! MY BABY, DON'T GIVE UP HOPE!!!!!! :O I'LL PUNCH THAT PENGUIN IN THE THROAT AND SAVE YOU!!!!!
Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha Sid's comment on the bromance...I couldn't help myself... dang what a mental picture!
Let me know if there are any parts of this that are confusing or rushed, like always...blah blah blah I really want to punch him. But it gets worse, gosh I'm going to have such a hard time writing about my poor, poor, poor, poor Valeri Nichushkin all tied up and helpless and adorable.
Don't get me wrong Kazer tied up is also adorable, but there's just something about that face of the Russian kid of the Dallas Stars....man! :P

Next up: Awkward Reilly and the Bruin Cave!!!! Peril #3