Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

For Your Toys Only (Episode 13)

Episode Thirteen
Directed by Martin Scorsese

Jack sat in his stolen car looking at his stolen laptop which was in the process of stealing someone’s internet through an unsecured router. He was looking for news about himself, but he was also looking for news about The Agency if he could find any. It wasn’t easy, because The Agency was one of those things that didn’t technically exist. It was like looking for dark matter in space, you had to look for its influence because you’d never actually be able to see it. He looked at the Rolex on his wrist and then checked the clock on the computer to make sure they were the same time.

There were things he could do of course, he could always call in a kind of cavalry. What kind of cavalry should he call though? No one that he’d talked to in the last year would be even the slightest bit approachable as they were all from the Agency, liable to contact The Agency, or about to be taken down by The Agency. He drummed his fingers and reminded himself that he was in fact on the clock. Santa was somewhere, having been kidnapped, and possibly was very afraid.

Jack considered that Santa had better really be kidnapped because he wasn’t going to go through that fake kidnapping shit again. For one thing he’d already lost his car and was now in a vechical he had swiped and replaced the plates on. The only real answer was action and lots of it, with a lot of ‘how the hell did he get there in that time?’ quickie flights across the country or the world. He tapped the laptop a few more times and wondered where his next move should be.

He looked at the cellphone that had been in his emergency pack, the old phone. He had been slightly surprised to find that it was still an active number, but as Debbie had taken over the company and the phone was in the company name she probably kept it on just in case. There were a lot of numbers in there, numbers from people that were before The Agency. All sorts of people were in the book, even though some of them were dead now. He cycled through the list of clients, criminals and people he used to know. He turned back to the computer and looked at the news sites.

When he had been a kid in the third grade, his teacher Mr. Damaron showed them a neat trick. He put a bunch of iron filings on a piece of construction paper and without letting his class see what was in his hand, started to wave it under the paper. The black dust first started to jump a little and then began to form shapes until Jack realized that there must have been a magnet or something involved. As he read the breaking news, he realized that he was seeing a magnet again, only there was more than powdered dust dancing this time.

There was a big red bar and the words ‘Breaking Story’ which Jack assumed meant that some Buddha Day shoppers had found a great deal at Target or something. Upon closer inspection of the headline though, his blood froze. ‘Mass break out at mental hospital, ten serial killers on the loose!’ He knew, without a doubt, that Dr. Grunch was one of them. Before he clicked the link, before he saw the words Freedom’s Memory and before he saw the name of Dr. Theodor Grunch. They had let him escape, which of course meant trouble in a silly hat.

He picked up the phone to call Alice and see if she was alright, and then noticed the mistake three second before making it. He set the phone down without even scrolling through to find her number. That would be the objective, find out where he was, and then track him down. It almost worked too, because he was nearly dumb enough to call her. He was almost stupid enough to act like a human being, which could get him killed right now. Snow had started to fall around the car, and he looked out the window at the slowly whitening landscape around him. He turned the car on and started to drive away, trying to decide what exactly he should do next.

He found himself thinking about Eddie the Bear for some reason. Maybe it was seeing his name among the dead that were still in his cell phone, or maybe it was that Eddie always could make him laugh if he needed one. The problem was that Eddie the Bear had been killed by a demented mountain troll more than a year ago. He was survived though by his cousin who live in South Boston though. Jack scrolled through and found the number for Paddy O’Cinnamon or as he was well known, the Cinnamon Bear. He dialed, and hoped that Paddy would be feeling friendly towards his departed cousin’s friend.

“Speak.” Paddy’s voice came over in the thick Belfast accent that he always had.

“Hello Paddy.” Collie said. “This is Jack Collier.”

“Would that be the Jack Collier from Troy? Eddie’s friend?”

“That would be the one.”

“And what can I be doin’ for you today my dear boy?” The accent became noticeably stronger.

“You could drop the bullshit for one Allen.” Jack said. “I’m not a tourist in your theme park.”

“No need to take that attitude.” Paddy’s accent lessened but didn’t vanish. “Some people expect it.”

“You’re name is Allen MacFeegle and you’re from South Boston.” Jack harped on him. “Just because your mother took you back with her to Belfast when she divorced your father doesn’t mean you should play that accent up with me. I happen to know you can talk like a person instead of a stage Irishman.”

“What do you want Jack?” Paddy asked, his voice retaining some lilt but becoming more Southie every word. “Did my grand mother ask you to call and harass me? I don’t want everyone to know who I am so I picked the most offensive name I could think of, okay? Now do you have a request or something?”

“I need some help, of the unsavory kind.”

“Word was that you got out of that business after young Edward died.”

“Current word is that if my employers find me I’ll be strapped down into a chair in room 101.” Jack told him. “But I know you wouldn’t betray me because we’ve been brothers in arms and because you’re about to be the second toughest mother fucker in Boston.”

“How you figure the second?”

“Because I’ll be in the city limits in about three hours.” Jack told him. “I’m going to need a place to hang out and I’m going to need some back up.”

There was a silence over the phone for a moment and when Paddy spoke again there was almost nothing left of the brogue. He was speaking from his heart, which he tired never to do.

“Was it true, that it was you getting Edward involved in that things got him killed?”

“There are a lot of people who say no. They say that it was bound to happen sooner or later.” Jack said. “I say yes. I say that it would have been much later if I hadn’t helped it be sooner. I also say thought that I put a spade through the face of the mother fucker what killed him. Twice.”

“I just wanted to hear you admit it.” Paddy said. “If you’ve got a list of things you might need, I can gather them up before you get here. I know of about seven safe houses you can use, unless you’ve got one in mind.”

“What would have happened if I’d told you no?” Jack asked.

“I would have risked you being mad at me and turned you over.” Paddy told him. “I would have felt a little bad about it, cause we’re like family, but I can’t stand a man who lies to me and I hate a man who lies to himself.”

“Don’t I know it?” Jack asked. “I’ll talk to you later. Bye, bye.”

He switched the phone off and tossed it aside, turning up the music on the radio. It was something from the Rolling Stones that he didn’t immediately recognize, but that didn’t matter much. It was just something to play as he drove. Just some noise. He needed something with a beat to it, and this had one.

There was a lot to do, and it kept looking like there was going to be less and less time to do it in. He tilted his head from the left to the right, feeling the cracks in his neck as he shifted his skull around. He could almost feel a camera just outside the window zooming in on his face, capturing his hazel eyes as he stared out at the world.

At least he could claim that he was doing what most couldn’t. As far back as he could remember he’d always wanted to be an adventurer. Most people didn’t even know what they wanted to be. They just muddled along until they found something they could d and those who thought they knew discovered that it wasn’t what they thought or couldn’t achieve it. He had managed to be that thing he had wanted and here he was. The problem is that it had been exactly what he thought it would be. All of it, the good, the bad and the ugly. What he hadn’t expected was exactly how much ugly there would be.

Still, there was a list of things to do. Primary list, find the sleigh, so he could find Santa, so he could rescue Santa. Secondary list, find out who was behind this, how deep the conspiracy on the inside goes, shoot everyone. And of course as he looked at his watch he found that he had just thirty-eight hours to achieve his primary goal. If he didn’t get Santa by midnight on Monday night, it was probably all over. For best results, he should really get him before that though.

Sitting around like this, nearly having an interior dialogue with himself wasn’t going to get the job done though. Besides, he had sworn off that kind of thing more than a year ago. He put the car in drive, cursed the fact that he’d swiped an automatic and started to drive to Boston.



( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
Dec. 13th, 2007 09:13 am (UTC)
For what it's worth I've missed the internal dialogue. :-)
( 1 comment — Leave a comment )

Latest Month

July 2018

Page Summary

Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by Tiffany Chow