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For Your Toys Only (Episode 11)


Episode Eleven
The Collier Irritation
Directed by Paul Greengrass

Collier flicked through the files in the control board officer where Redwater had filed all its manifests. It was a brilliant idea, even if he said so himself. Redwater could lie about what was in each container, but they couldn’t make up the sizes or the starting locations. At that point going to their stated destination was as good a way to start looking as any other. He found something that was just about the right size dropped off in Alaska, and then shipped by truck to Seattle where it had then been shipped to Chicago. It hadn’t arrived yet, but the final position was supposed to be Quantico Virginia. Collier stopped at that because it was the NSB’s office that it was going to end up at.

Collier considered for the first time that maybe Bauer had been trying to silence and warn Ricco instead of just torment him for fun. He went up the stairs out the basement and found his phone ringing in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at it, seeing Liddell’s number. He almost didn’t answer Alice’s call, but some little alarm bell was going off and told him too.

“Yeah?” He asked as he held the phone up to his ear.

“Where the hell have you been?” She asked.

“In a basement, sorry. What’s up?”

“Bauer didn’t spend as long in the hospital as you thought.” She said. “He got out this morning and a car that matched the SUV he drives hit K. K’s in the hospital and he’ll probably be fine, but at the moment Mikelson has been granted control of the Agency. He’s put a call out on you. You’re to be taken down the moment anyone sees you.”

“How long until that gets worked out?” He asked calmly.

“I don’t know. They can’t find Jorgaes to get him to take over the Agency so for the moment it’s Mikelson.”

“Okay.” He spoke calmly but quickly as he drifted towards a door and looked for police and other agents. “Come to Washington and get my car. You can find it because I know for a fact that K had it tagged a while ago. There is an envelope in the glove box labeled Uncle Ted’s Pictures, in there I’ve got some instructions. Take the car to Chad’s Break shop in Lima Ohio and tell him it’s what we feared.”

“Anything else?” She asked.

“Yeah.” He nodded looking at the phone. “I think it’s going to have to be time that no one knew my number again for a while.”

He put the phone into his pocket, deciding to get the information off the SIM card later and then walked towards a yellow cab. The cabbie glanced at him as the pounding of feet started to come towards them. Jack pulled out his wallet and extracted three one hundred dollar bills from it.

“Look buddy.” He said to the cabbie. “I’m an armed and highly dangerous criminal on the run. If you take the three hundred and just run away you won’t get hurt and the insurance company will buy your bosses a new cab.”

“Freeze!” The first call came.

The cabbie snatched the money, slid across to the passenger side and ran. Jack got into the car as the cabbie slammed the door behind him. Jack slammed his foot down on the clutch and twisted the key. He was suddenly subjected to a barrage of techno music and as he put the car in gear and started away he found the shocks weren’t in very good order either. The officers started towards him but quickly stopped as he raced away. His fingers went to the volume knob, only to have it come off in his hand. The car’s wheels weren’t very good either which meant the whole car shook when he drove. It seemed he was going to have to put up with the whole world shaking and a lot of loud techno music for a while then. The police cars where behind him almost on the instant. The traffic in DC was no joke either, it looked like it could box him in too easily. He looked at the roads near the mall and decided to risk insanity. He drove up over the pavement and raced down the old sand path as quickly as he dared. He would have hit the horn, but he thought that the techno music blaring was loud enough. He got off the mall quickly enough and decided to race towards the highway, but he had to drive around a little first. As he came around corner he saw an SUV with a crunched front and a familiar face in the driver’s seat.

Collier saw Bauer’s face and grabbed the Walther from his coat without even thinking about it. The SUV tried to hit the cab, but Collier put the car in reverse and was missed by the SUV. He zipped past the SUV and raced forward. Bauer’s truck cut across a median, drove up on to the pavement, nearly hitting a child as he did. Collier aimed his pistol out the window and fired a round. It didn’t stop the SUV, but it did start a minor shooting spree from the truck.

Collier hit the gas and charged towards the freeway again, the pounding techno music gaining in momentum until it was nothing but a blur of sound and drum beats. He raced toward the on ramp, having to mount the pavement and nearly hit a lawyer to get around a small blockade of police cars. He swerved onto the on ramp and had an idea. He hit the gas hard, trying something he’d thought of long ago. If he was going fast enough, he figured he could fly off the on ramp, over the small gulch between the two, and onto the on ramp. He held the steering wheel hard as he raced up the ramp and then pointed the car strait over the edge. The car leapt the ten feet, and actually came down in a coast onto the other side. Evidently the difference in heights was just enough that he slid into the off ramp.

This moment of joy was taken away by the huge rig that came towards him. He turned the wheel just enough to zip around the truck and its cargo, to find himself in the opposing lane. He kept weaving back and forth, avoiding one car narrowly here and clipping the mirror of another car there. He was leaving dozens of accidents in his wake, which would make it harder for any pursuers, but it was also making it hard on himself getting along.

There were police ahead of him, which was the easy thing for them to do when he was driving up stream. They could just come up another exit and block him off. He looked to his right and saw the other side of the highway, only a four foot high divider of concrete separating him from the ability to move more freely. He pulled the cart over and crashed the cab into the divider, the sound of the car crunching barely audible over the thrumming techno beat. The car slid to a stop and he kicked the door open, running from the car and toward the divider.

He leapt over the divider, and what to his wondering eyes should appear, but a Hudson Super Six driven by a woman he held dear. He felt his spirit collapse under him for a moment, he had taken this much time to get distance between himself and the car and she had brought it right back to him. There was nothing else for it though, as she was pulling over to him. He walked to the driver’s side and opened the door as she slid across the seat.

“What are you doing here?” He demanded as he put the car in gear and started away. “I told you to go to Ohio.”

“I know where they place the trackers on these things.” She told him. “I did tracking for two years. I just put the trackers on another car.”

“We’re not exactly in a Ford Taurus here dear.” He said as he pulled down the free way further and looked for the next exit. “A Hudson is kind of distinctive.”

“Oh, most people can’t tell one classic from another.” She waved a hand dismissing his worries.

“They’ll know this one.” He muttered. “Still I can get another car with what I’ve got in the back there.”

“What do you mean?” She asked surprised.

“My special kit.” He said.

“I don’t remember any kit.”

“I put it in there this morning.”

“You didn’t tell me!” She demanded.
“I didn’t think it was going to be important.” He commented, and then added, “Until now.”

He pulled off the free way and were subjected to an unusual amount of inattention if Jack was any judge. He drove the car out of the city and into Maryland, where he knew they’d be pulled over by the first police officers that saw them. When they passed some though, they simply let him fly past them. This worried him, particularly as he was going twenty miles over the limit. Even in Michigan that would have been cause to pull him over. He put his hand in his lap and felt the cell phone, which made him worry all the more.

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