FangedSmile
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Post by FangedSmile on Sept 22, 2007 19:10:13 GMT -6
Aya watched in silence. Jack moved with a casual grace that made every action look choreographed and common. That smile of his never faded and any time he did something serious he would follow it up with something playful. When he'd finished securing the assassin's hands to the headrest, he shot her a wink and said they should put sunglasses on the assassin "A la Weekend at Burnie's" but it was night and mid-week so maybe not.
He was in a league of his own and she doubted there was anything in this world that could have surprised him. Aya wasn't sure if that made her feel safe or made him too reckless.
"Airport?" she asked hopefully, leaning so she could see his face in the mirror. He shook his head and her heart sank, but he seemed to know how to deal with all this much better than she did. It made her feel ungrateful to consider questioning his plans, even if she did not understand them.
"Why bring him?" she asked instead, with a glare to the assassin. It seemed dangerous to keep him around and she was not naive enough to believe he was any better than the others. He'd have killed her just as easily as any of them if ordered to do so, and she knew it.
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B. B. Wolf
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Post by B. B. Wolf on Sept 22, 2007 19:17:58 GMT -6
"Our new friend is here because you and I don't know who we're dealing with," Jack explained in a relaxed, positive tone. "No one better to ask who we're up against than..." He reached over to give the assassin a light smack on the elbow. "Who we are up against."
He grinned at her and did not let the fact that she still looked worried bother him. They'd just started to get to know each other, after all. And, Aya was experiencing the side of the world most people never encountered- and not just because she was traveling internationally. All things considered, she seemed to be handling things well.
Jack sped through traffic, careful to let the zippy sports cars outpace him to act as spotters for police cruisers.
There were people he could call, but favors always need to be repaid and he wasn't sure he was ready to start racking up debt. It made him regret telling everyone they were square if they let him retire. At the time, it had seemed a worthwhile sacrifice because having people in that life owe him favors had felt like a great way to get dragged into shit again.
So, he just drove and tried to keep believing things would work out. He skirted the city and used the Lincoln tunnel to get into New Jersey. It wasn't the best route, but it was one he knew was monitored by people he trusted. Though, 'trusted' was not quite the best term. More like he knew they would want his face and alias to stay out of anyone's attention. That is unless he'd just gotten himself involved in something major that they knew about.
Glancing back, he had to laugh when he noticed Aya staring at his fare meter with her wallet in her hands and a nervous expression on her face.
"Nah," he reached over and turned off the meter. "I got wallets off of everyone I met at your hotel."
After that brief moment, the ride seemed less somber even as Jack had to explain why they couldn't just go to the airport. It was tricky getting a civilian to understand the number of cameras in the city and how focused they could be- especially in an airport. TSA was just for show, but the airport itself was full of cameras and an easy place to get agents in to. True, there were odds that the people who were after Aya wouldn't expect her to leave the same evening, but they might also have realized she was a patsy who had never intended to help their target and now just wanted to go home.
Hell, he didn't know what to expect. There were many different agencies out there and no one at the hotel had seemed familiar. He glanced at his shotgun passenger. They were going to have to get familiar when he stepped out of that chloroform dreamland.
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FangedSmile
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Post by FangedSmile on Sept 22, 2007 19:24:50 GMT -6
The assassin was aware of the radio long before he could figure out how it placed in his life. It wasn't music he normally listened to or that played at any of the places he frequented, though it was in American English. It was the throbbing pain in his foot that pulled him from his confusion and gave him a jolt of adrenaline. His eyes snapped open, took in the road and the inside of a taxi, and then swiveled to the driver. With a glare and a snarl, he prepared to fight.
The desire vanished when he heard the metallic clink that sounded behind his head and noticed the driver, Jack, had not reacted beyond glancing at him for a brief second and then returning his attention to the road. That wasn't the reaction you wanted from someone you were intending to kill. You wanted to see fear, even if it was fleeting, so you knew they had no backup plan.
A lack of reaction meant everything you did was already expected and nothing that could not be handled. He looked from the driver to the handcuffs on his wrists as his fingers tested the strength of the metal bars they were wound through. Cursing under his breath, he stared miserably down into the darkness between his knees and the dash and dreaded whatever was going to happen from that point forward.
He remembered the conversation in the hotel and that Jack had said he was going to question him. It was the moment before torture that tended to be the worst. When it was actually happening, you just had to focus on surviving- unless that ship had sailed, then you could get busy dying. You could go anywhere you wanted in your mind and the worse things got, the closer you were to the end. The body only takes so much before it dies and there were ways to let shock take over and leave sanity behind.
Before the torture started, however, there was no way to know how bad it would be and too many things to think about. Was this a 'take a few fingers' type of encounter, or "let's see the eyes pop" type? Tie you down, or cut tendons? Chemicals or brute force?
As the fears began to stack, the assassin snapped his attention to the road and started counting lines, poles, and how many words he could make out on street signs between either of those things. Anything he could do to stave off panic.
--
Aya had jumped and slid over behind Jack when the hostage woke up. She was relieved when he calmed down, even if she could not understand why he'd done that so quickly. Then again, his foot was probably still bleeding and she had no idea how much blood loss was affecting him. Either way, she wished he would go back to sleep. Her eyes had been set outside the window, taking in all the sights she had never seen before. Now, all she could do was stare at him and feel anxious.
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B. B. Wolf
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Post by B. B. Wolf on Sept 22, 2007 19:37:35 GMT -6
Jack noted that their new friend woke up rearin' for a fight, but what made up for the scare was the defeated expression that came only a few seconds later. Followed immediately by a hunted, rabbit-like state with darting eyes but no other movement.
"Rise 'n' shine," Jack greeted lightly, though his tone and expression became more serious as he asked: "Feeling more honest now that you've had a nap?"
The assassin, whose name Jack figured he'd get around to asking for later, took a deep breath and nodded with promising obedience. He held back whatever emotions he was feeling and intoned, "Yes, sir."
Jack softened his expression as a reward for the cooperation, though he did not trust that it was entirely sincere. His new friend's old friends had been the type to go down fighting and even demanded death over capture. He was taunting this one and the young man just put up with it? Nah.
But, if that was the game, Jack was willing to play along.
"Good to hear," he continued with a grin. "For now, just sit back and relax."
The offer sounded polite, but Jack was pleased to see the young man caught on to his words. Without protest, he shut his eyes and leaned his head back. The pose more accurately represented someone kicking back and relaxing, and hid the cuffs from view. It was hard not to like a hostage that played along instead of being a hassle- even though compliance was suspicious.
After a tick, Jack realized their new friend was biting back an anxiety attack, rather than sitting there quietly plotting. That was welcome as well, since Jack really had no patience for people who couldn't adapt when control was taken from them. Those were the ones who screamed and spat and were all kinds of irritating, or they shut up like a brick wall and tried to regain control through non-compliance. This one was listening, following orders, intuitive, and fully aware he was in deep shit. Perfect hostage. 10/10, would kidnap again.
With a glance back to Aya, Jack thought through his options and decided not to return to his apartment. That place was connected to his cabby life and easily traced. The only place he could afford besides the apartment was some storage lockers that served as a bug-out-base. He pulled up to the facility gate and it slid open, letting him know the owner knew he was in some sort of trouble- not that she would ever ask. Analise minded her own business so well she didn't even know about the royal weddings. Jack drove through what quickly became a maze of individual units before he came to one that opened to reveal a parking spot. He got out there and opened Aya's door.
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FangedSmile
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Post by FangedSmile on Sept 22, 2007 19:45:50 GMT -6
Aya slid from the taxi and followed Jack as he removed her suitcase from the trunk. She felt rude when he had to ask her to take the bag so he could get the assassin- whom he was referring to as their new 'friend.'
The friend was quiet and almost timid, but he was also hurt and would not be able to walk on his own. Aya heard a voice somewhere in her mind propose rolling down a window, leaving the engine running, closing the storage unit, and letting the assassin problem work itself out. She smothered that voice with admonishing lectures regarding the shame she felt for even having such morbid thoughts. The fact that the voice seemed bitter when she told it off was unexpected.
The fact that the book became heavier as well was downright terrifying.
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B. B. Wolf
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Post by B. B. Wolf on Sept 22, 2007 19:48:28 GMT -6
Jack placed the pillowcase of guns and items he had stolen from the would-be-abductors into the trunk of his cab along with his own weapons. He then walked around the back of the car and opened the front passenger door. The assassin bowed his head forward, leaving room for Jack to unlock the handcuffs, but was otherwise still. He wasn't breathing rapidly or tense or positioned in a way that would facilitate a surprise attack, but Jack had never met an assassin who just gave up and accepted an unknown fate when they were captured- at least, never this quickly.
"Alright bud," Jack began, giving the man a casual smack on the shoulder to shake loose any tension he might be hiding. There was no response beyond the man looking at him. Jack met his eye and tried to get a read on him, but the man's expression was blank. Doing his best to look friendly while also implying he wasn't someone you messed with, Jack offered a smile, then reached over and began unlocking the handcuffs. "Let's just-"
He stopped and sighed and lowered his arms. The key had just gone into the lock when his friend's blank expression shifted and he'd let his eyes seek out an escape route. "Look at me," Jack instructed. The assassin met his gaze after a brief hesitation. He knew he'd been caught. "This is usually the time of night where I drive people home from the bars and have to deal with some idiocy. I don't mind drunk people acting out a bit, but I've also had to carry my fair share of them."
Letting that sink in, Jack reached into his back pocket and pulled out one of the handy chloroform wipe packets and held it up for its part in show-and-tell. "So, do I gotta knock you out or can you behave yourself?"
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Post by FangedSmile on Sept 22, 2007 19:51:43 GMT -6
The assassin didn't take long to fully realize how bad his odds of escape were and began to give more consideration to his fear regarding Jack's ability to read minds. It was never good to antagonize people in charge, so he glanced at the chloroform wipe and decided he wanted to be awake for even the slimmest chance of getting free rather than waking up strapped to a chair or the wall or a table in a torture chamber.
"I understand," he sighed but when Jack just continued to smile and stare, he added, "I'll behave."
Jack replied with a patient nod that suggested he did not believe that statement. He then uncuffed one of the assassin's wrists, but not the other. The empty cuff was fastened to the empty gun holster attached to the assassin's opposite hip and thigh, trapping his arm behind his back, and his other arm was pulled over Jack's shoulder as he was pulled out of the car.
A storage unit did not bode well but was not too different from what he'd expected. How often did the police find bodies in storage units? Then again, he was dealing with a professional.
No one would ever find his body.
'Alright, stop that,' he lectured himself. He was alive and conscious, so there was still hope.
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B. B. Wolf
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Post by B. B. Wolf on Sept 22, 2007 19:54:45 GMT -6
Jack led the way to the larger units and noted that his new friend was more willing to walk on a busted foot than most people would be. That was hopefully a sign that whining would be kept to a minimum, but the downside was that a high pain tolerance usually came with a thick skull and the stubbornness of a mule. People who were used to pain tended to lose a lot of that good ol' fear of it. He'd seen people spill their guts after having a few fingers broken, but others stayed tight-lipped after having a few fingers removed with a blow torch and a pair of pliers.
Already, Jack knew his friend could lie and keep secrets even when a knife was doing a jig in his foot. It took forever to cause enough pain to get those people to play ball, and Jack did not currently have a blow torch with him.
But that was okay. Torture was not usually Jack's preferred method anyway. He reached one of the largest units and punched his code into the lock. The door rolled upward and he got a chuckle out of the reactions Aya and his new friend offered.
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Post by FangedSmile on Sept 22, 2007 20:01:51 GMT -6
Aya had never seen such a weird apartment and wasn't sure where to leave her shoes. The door had opened up straight into a living room with a kitchen off to the left and a temporary wall separated another area that extended beyond the door to the right.
"You have a lovely home," she states as her eyes scanned for house slippers or a mat or anything at all that would tell her where her shoes belonged. The article she'd read online popped into her mind and reminded her that some Americans did not change their footwear when entering their homes and did not expect their guests to do so either.
Considering the blood trail the assassin had left from the parking spot to the apartment, Aya assumed Jack wasn't too worried about his floor. She glanced at their 'new friend' and was pleased to see that he looked more confused and out of place than she was. He stared at the room with a slack jaw and blinked hard as if convinced his eyes were lying to him.
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B. B. Wolf
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Post by B. B. Wolf on Sept 22, 2007 20:11:51 GMT -6
Jack smiled at both reactions. "Thanks," he replied to Aya as he pulled their new friend into the unit and heard the cleaning system rumble to life behind him once everyone was inside what was essentially his living room. Both his guests reacted to that in a similar fashion to the way they had responded to seeing his bug-out base. Aya seemed to think the pressure-washers that were traveling down the corridor were smart and hygienic.
Their friend watched the bleach and water mixture erase the blood trail and seemed to find it horrifying. He gulped down the lump of fear in his throat and Jack ushered him over to a recliner. When he unlocked the handcuffs he could actually see the man's nervousness decreasing, but chose to ignore it since relaxing was better than preparing an attack.
"Stay here, will ya?" Jack asked as he deposited the assassin into the recliner. "I'll get you a first aid kit."
He stopped and looked back, having already learned that the hostage tended to try and take advantage of any opening possible. Sure enough, the man had shifted his weight to his good foot and was on the edge of the seat. Jack grabbed the arms of the chair and towered over the hostage, who squirmed backwards into the chair in an attempt to maintain distance.
Jacck pulled the lever to make the chair recline and hesitated. There was real fear in the assassin's eyes, but it wasn't just any fear. It was the dread of someone who knows they are not getting out of the situation alive. It reminded Jack of why he left that life behind- besides getting older in a game where people die young.
"S’okay, that button there will open the door," he began, pointing to a doorbell on the wall near the kitchen. "It’s slow and loud, but not terrible and I figure you can roll under it after only a few seconds. Then you’ll go through the second door- that one is quieter. You’ll quickly realize the car won’t start no matter what you do, so you’ll just want to run… if you can. It’s a bit of a maze, but I can draw you a map."
He looked around for paper to make sure he could follow up on that offer. After all, he was the good guy here. "Then you’ll be at the entrance, which is a big steel gate with spikes. There is no key fob or access code or automatic way to open the gate. You’ll have to use the intercom to try and convince the owner of this place why letting you leave is a good idea. When you realize she is not listening, you can either come back here or run around the entire facility, which is surrounded by 8-foot walls and barbed wire with a live charge running through it that will do more than just give you a warning zap. You could try screaming for help, but no one will hear you and if you annoy the owner too much, she’ll send out the dogs."
Jack paused and tried to remember if there was a trick to the dogs or if they would just rip and tear. Seeming to be afraid of silence now, their new friend spoke up with the obvious question.
"Why are you telling me this?"
Jack mouthed the words with a roll of his eyes, then nodded. "Yeah," he he sighed. "I'm sure you're expecting a long questioning period before I put a bullet in your brain, but I'm not that guy. You want to leave? Go. It won't do you any good, but you're free to try." He watched confusion bounce across the assassin's features and could almost see the questions. "What you can't do," Jack continued. "Is hurt Aya. So right now you can behave and have your foot tended to, or you can run. When you're all patched up, you can have some food or run. When we've eaten, you can answer questions or you can run. Either way, I'm not going to spend the evening making this same point over and again. If you decide to leave, I'll see you tomorrow and we try something else. If you try to hurt Aya or myself, you'll wake up- possibly tomorrow if not later- and we'll try something else. If you piss me off, I am going to leave you on a street corner with a card that says 'thanks for the info' and let your bosses find you."
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FangedSmile
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Post by FangedSmile on Sept 22, 2007 20:23:17 GMT -6
Aya stood up and hijacked a pillowcase, which she shoved the book into. "Hotel no care, I take..." she declared softly. That done, she felt fully ready to leave the bloodied hotel room. "Thank you. We go, please?"
The hostage took shallow breaths as he tried to decide if he could make it out the window or door while the two seemed distracted. He wasn't sure why he was still alive, though his mind was already thinking up what he was going to tell his superiors when questioned later- if he got out alive at all. Things were not looking very promising at the moment. The shot fired into the chair had erased his first thought of escape and made him wonder if he was up against a psychic or a time lord.
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Post by B. B. Wolf on Sept 22, 2007 20:26:57 GMT -6
Jack nodded his head and motioned for her to wait at the door. He stayed near the hostage, close enough to feel confident that he could stop any escape attempt or attack, but far enough away that the man wasn't going to grab his gun even if he turned out to have Bruce Lee's speed. He doubted that, but there was still a lot of rigidity to the man's stature, like he was waiting for an opening instead of feeling defeated.
"Last chance to give up some useful advice and buy your life," Jack he warned him.
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Post by FangedSmile on Sept 22, 2007 20:48:02 GMT -6
Aya nodded again and hurried to the door, leaping over a corpse as she went.
The hostage's eyes widened as his heart went into overdrive and pushed more blood out of his foot. He could hear at least one person moaning in pain, so there was a witness to anything he said. It was either tell the truth and possibly live long enough to limp out of there and have his employers hunt him down, or lie and hope Jack was short on ammo... One way was, at least, a faster death.
"... I'm just following orders," he repeated, in the weak and submissive tone of a man who knew he was about to die. "And there are others coming. They were waiting for us to call in and are probably on their way now." He hoped Jack would not think of him as a threat and decide to save the ammunition to ward off other people. Truth was... no one was there. Why bother? The mission had changed when the girl got the book. It went from minesweeper to a cake walk. Other agents were busy tracking down the original target to make sure she hadn't just planted a decoy- which was her style. Three other people had already been dealt with, but their books had all been fakes.
No one seriously thought the Japanese brat had the real one.
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B. B. Wolf
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Post by B. B. Wolf on Sept 22, 2007 20:51:09 GMT -6
Jack was just about to pull the trigger when he decided, what the hell. He knew the hostage was lying to him, but he got the hints. There was someone else still alive in the room, and his new hostage had employers who were not very polite to snitches. The comment about other people being on the way was just the hope that he'd decide to conserve ammo. "Cute," he breathed before followed Aya's lead and shoving everything useful he could get his hands on into a pillowcase.
"In that case, you can come with me. You try any funny stuff and you'll end up like your friends here, got it?" he asked. Without waiting for a reply, Jack pulled the man's head off the table and pressed one of the chloroform rags over his mouth and nose. "Stay still," he warned when the man attempted to grab him. "And I'm not dim enough that holding your breath will actually work, so you might as well breathe deep... Now, please. I'm not feeling patient."
With a frustrated and defeated growl, the hostage took a reluctant, choppy breath. The next came easier, and the next easier still. When the tension had faded from his posture and the will to fight was no longer apparent, Jack moved the rag away and hauled the hostage to his feet and pulled him out the door.
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Post by FangedSmile on Sept 22, 2007 20:58:22 GMT -6
Aya, with her pink bag trailing behind her on its thin wheels, trotted to the elevator. She saw Jack practically carrying one of her attackers and inched away. The man looked beaten down and cringed lightly with every step, while Jack looked unfazed and pleasant. This instilled some sense of safety, but she still kept her distance. Her eyes travel up to the security camera. "... You think, someone see?" she questioned.
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