Hamish peered through a tiny window on the door of the first floor’s landing. He spied a hoard of security guards, one at every entrance, two occupying the front desk, and patrols that circulated constantly.
"What kind of place would need so much security?" Angus wondered.
"A place with valuable things," said Veronica, "or very illegal things."
"Or both," added Trevor.
Polished golden lettering suspended from the ceiling told them they were looking into the lobby of Wagner Records.
"There's no way we can sneak out past these guys," said Angus, "and there's nothing downstairs, so I guess the only way is up."
They continued their climb to the second floor. The hallway outside appeared empty.
"OK, everyone," said Angus, "this is about finding a way out and nothing else. Veronica, come with me to the left. The rest of you go right."
"I wish we had our phones so we could text each other or even just call for help!" said Trevor, "Let’s meet back here in ten minutes."
Angus and Veronica slipped into an empty room that appeared to be some sort of recording booth. A long board covered in knobs and slides occupied most of the space, and thick curtains covered one wall. The room was clearly soundproofed.
"So, how are you doing with all this?" asked Veronica, speaking quietly. "You just found out your father was behind the kidnappings the whole time, and now you're in his office building. You aren't going to go off and do anything silly, are you?"
"I’m fine," snapped Angus, obviously lying.
"There's a computer," said Veronica. "Let's see if we can get on and message someone to help us."
Veronica jiggled the mouse and opened a browser window. "There's no internet. Who has a computer that's not on the net these days?"
Angus lifted the mouse and shook it, "Fudge knuckles!".
"Fudge knuckles?" said Veronica, "You seriously don't know how to swear, do you?"
“Apparently, I don’t know much about anything. I mean, look what’s happening. This is unbelievable.”
"I'm sorry for getting us into this mess, Angus. It's Anastasia. She knows so many things and tells me what to do sometimes. I'm worried that she’s up to no good."
"Don't worry about it, Veronica," Angus put a hand on her forearm. "This was just a coincidence. You're overthinking it. Anastasia has changed you, though. You seem older, more sophisticated."
"More sophisticated?" Veronica wrinkled her nose, "You think I've gotten soft? Is this sophisticated enough for you?" She stuck her tongue out, almost touching Angus’s chin. His mouth formed a startled ‘O.’
"What? Seriously, that's shocking?"
"Shhh," Angus caught movement through a small gap in the curtains.
In the room beyond, a painfully thin young man rocked back and forth in front of an electronic keyboard, hugging himself. His blonde hair hung in greasy strings, eyes bloodshot and sunken, exhausted. Every once and a while, he reached out and played a couple of notes.
"Oh, my goodness!" exclaimed Veronica, "I think that's Eddy Buckets! He's one of the rock stars who went missing."
"We have to help him. He's obviously sick," said Angus.
"But we agreed we're only finding our way out. We can come back and help him after."
Angus ignored this and opened the door to the recording room floor.
"Hey there, are you okay?”
The man blinked.
"We can bring help,” Angus spoke gently. “How do we get out of here?"
"There’s no way out," the man moaned. "The contract I signed, I have to write motifs for the company, or they’ll go after my family. I have a quota, and I'm behind. So please, I have to keep working."
"What's your name?" asked Angus.
"Eddy... Eddy Buckets," he replied.
"I thought it was him," said Veronica.
"It's nice to meet you, Eddy. We will find a way out of here and then return with help."
"We promise," Veronica added.
Eddy nodded, only half-listening. The two left the studio and backtracked to rejoin the others.
***
"You aren't going to believe this," said Trevor, "but they have a whole bunch of captive songwriters and composers. They’re all shut in rooms to write music under some insane contract. We saw Lady Shade, Tori Z, and Billy Jackson. I'm sure we'd find more if we kept going. They look like they're dying, and one guy already seemed dead." Trevor was clearly panicking.
"Yeah, we saw one too, Eddy Buckets. He was not in good shape at all," replied Angus.
"We can't just leave them here," said Adora.
“Remember that book in the Library?" Veronica scrunched her forehead. "It said something about destroying the original contracts for people to be released. We have no idea where those are kept."
"And we haven’t found a way out yet," said Hamish.
"No," Angus added, "not even a window or fire escape."
"We should just keep going up and see what we run into," Veronica turned to the stairwell.
The third floor was similar to the second but with offices instead of studios.
"OK, everyone, let’s switch it up. Trevor and Adora can come with me. Hamish and Veronica, you go the other way. Meet up again, same as last time," said Angus.
Angus, Trevor, and Adora slipped into a dark office. Adora examined an official-looking document sitting on the desktop.
"It says something about a new way of writing music," she whispered. "No need for composers, just click and create? Wow, this legal stuff is hard to read."
"That's the point, Adora," said Trevor, "if they used everyday language, people would read it and realize they were being taken advantage of. I think these are lawyers’ offices."
"If these are lawyers’ offices, where do they keep the contracts?" asked Angus.
"That is none of your business," a Scribbs-like shape blocked the doorway. With a yip, Adora scrambled for cover.
"You brats, get over here!" Scribbs brandished his clarinet menacingly.
Cowering under the desk, Adora tried to summon Boomer but immediately realized the space was far too tight. Trevor stood frozen, clutching Gronk, who was spraying so much valve oil that it was almost a fountain.
Angus swung a chair at Scribbs, then leaped to the top of a filing cabinet in a desperate attempt to stay clear of the man’s reach.
As Scribbs lunged at Angus, he slipped in Gronk's secretions and smacked his head on the floor with a crack. Trevor moved closer to pour a torrent of greasy liquid over the man’s dazed face.
Adora stood, materialized Boomer, and pointed the bell right at Scribbs. She then uncharacteristically screamed, "Tell me where those stupid contracts are, or I swear Boomer will blow your head clean off!"
The two boys gawped at each other, and Scribbs replied in panic, "The...the… contracts are in a vault on the 4th floor. You can’t get in, though; there’s a combination."
"Well, what’s the combination?" Trevor demanded, pouring yet more oil into Scribb's face.
"I...I...glarg… I swear I don't know. Please, no more oil," pleaded Scribbs.
"Where is everyone? Why are these offices empty?" asked Adora.
"There's a top-secret meeting on the fifth floor. Everybody but security got sent home," said Scribbs, "That's all I know. We’re just pawns, I swear."
"Pawns my butt," Trevor snorted, "but I'm not surprised you don't know the combination. Oh, and by the way, you peed yourself."
Trevor gave Scribbs a final whack with Gronk. Scribbs was knocked unconscious, and Gronk became slightly less bent.
***
Hamish and Veronica had a similar experience. They were interrupted by Knucks while rummaging through piles of indecipherable documents. This confrontation was more easily concluded as Veronica played her now-famous Brahm’s lullaby as Hamish plugged his ears.
The two groups again met at the stairs, Veronica and Hamish dragging an unconscious body. Knucks was sound asleep.
“I was wondering where he was,” Trevor poked the limp form with a toe.
"We have to hide him," said Veronica. "Is there anyone else around?"
"Not that we know of," Adora pitched in to help drag the big man. "They’re all in some meeting on the fifth floor. C’mon, we took care of Scribbs too."
They hauled Knucks into the office, where Scribbs lay on the floor. Trevor bound the senseless pirates with handcuffs and fished keys from Scribbs’ pocket. Veronica disarmed them by taking their instrument crystals.
"I feel a bit of déjà vu, but from the other side of the fence," Trevor regarded their prisoners.
"I like this side better," Adora smiled thinly.
"Let's do a recap," said Angus.
"1. We’re still trapped in here."
"2. We know composers are kept as captives and can probably only be released by destroying their contracts."
"3. The contracts are on the fourth floor in a vault, but we don't know the combination."
"4. There's a big meeting on the fifth floor with my father and, I'm sure, some other terrifying people. Did I miss anything?"
Having nowhere to go but up, the five reached the fourth floor. Immediately outside the stairwell door, an obstacle became apparent.
"Excuse me, do you have an appoint…" the receptionist at the desk nodded off mid-sentence.
"Don't be wearing that little sleeping trick out, Veronica," Trevor patted her shoulder.
"Yeah, go leak some oil somewhere," she smiled.
Trevor pulled a spiral plastic key bracelet from the woman's wrist, and they quietly padded down the hall. The walls were covered in photographs of musicians and framed Gold and Platinum records. A few luxurious offices sat open and unoccupied, the most significant bearing the nameplate ‘Lucas Wagner.’
Curiosity getting the better of him, Angus stopped the group and entered. Lucas's office was spacious. His polished oak desk sat before a wall of dark-tinted glass, surrounded by a plush, red rug like a pool of lava on the sparkling black granite floor. A tacky life-size statue of Lucas stood beside a door that stood slightly ajar. Angus pushed it open and stepped through.
Electronic gear filled the space. It looked like a pilot's cockpit; there were so many buttons and sliders. Angus peered through the control room window, and his heart stopped.
On the recording room floor, a woman slouched over the keys of a hulking black concert grand piano. He'd only seen pictures of her, but Angus was sure this was his mother. Like Eddy Buckets and the others, she tapped out one melody after another. Her eyes streamed with tears, and she was shaking. Angus bolted into the room, and the others followed.
"Mom! You’re my mom! I thought you were dead!"
She didn't respond.
"Mom, can you hear me? I’m your son, Angus."
"Yes, I must compose to protect Angus." she muttered, "He'll hurt him if I don't write motifs."
It was apparent that she was under contract as well.
"We have to find that vault," Adora looked to the others. "I'll stay here with Angus. He needs some space."
"OK, let's get on it, guys," said Trevor. Veronica hesitated, looked back, then left with Hamish and Trevor.
Angus pulled his mother around to face him, though she hardly responded.
"Mom, can't you hear me? What can I do?" pleaded Angus as his mother reached out for the piano keyboard in a trance.
They were interrupted by an uncharacteristic shout from the office as Hamish triumphantly declared, "I found the vault!"
This was followed by a loud door slam and an angry man’s voice. "Congratulations. It's hard to miss. And who might you be?"
Lucas had caught them.