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Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: Please see Chapter I for the usual statement.
Hostile Environment
Chapter 6
By Callisto
Super 8 Motel
Omaha, NB
The day had dawned bright and cheerful. The air was crisp and the gathering light from the sun still held the magic that a new day promises. The man dressed all in gray was oblivious to this beauty. Indeed, his emotions and inner life had a kaleidoscope of colors that matched his clothing, rendering him insensible to anything outside of his own ambition and needs. He squatted comfortably in the corner of a nearby roof with a pair of binoculars attached to his face as he scanned the upper floors of the seedy motel Jarod had picked for his pursuers.
The man waited and watched with a single-mindedness which bespoke of his arduous and unyielding training. He was waiting for Jarod to make an appearance; unaware that despite the hours spent waiting, he had missed his quarry, his role model, by at least an hour. Jarod, as surprised at his reception as he was by the success of his mission, had left with the object of his affections long before his dogged shadow had a chance to see him leave. What Alex saw instead was the remainder of the pursuit team, force open her door and enter. A few minutes later a sweeper exited, then 15 minutes after he left, a thin, balding man carrying a dark garment bag and a smaller carry-on bag departed. Shortly after, an older man emerged and closed the door, in his hand was an item that caught Alex’s attention. It was a message from Jarod; he was hanging up his wings and leaving the job of Onisius to his accomplished counterpart. Alex’s lips reflexively formed a wry smile, he was glad that Jarod was out of the picture but he would have preferred knowing where the other pretender had gone. He was sure Jarod was going to ground now, it would be sometime before anyone would hear from him again, especially since it was clear from the other Centre employees actions that she went with him.
Lowering the binoculars, Alex released a heavy sigh. Jarod was good, brilliant even when he wanted to be, Alex conceded. Very few people, including other pretenders, ever got the best of Alex. He knew he would have to bide his time before finalizing his plans in regards to Jarod. Now was the time to keep the Centre off balance and to let them know a new player was now at the table.
The Centre
Blue Cove, DE
Several hours later, they had reassembled the pursuit team and left en masse from the motel to board the private jet headed back to the Centre. Broots’ emotions were in flux as he brooded about his boss’ flight. He wasn’t sure how he would tell Debbie, his daughter had become very fond of Miss Parker and she had encouraged the teenager’s attachment by spending hours with the girl, just talking and spending quality time with her. Broots was also afraid, he suddenly realized that Miss Parker’s presence had kept the wrath of Raines from hitting both him and Sydney square in the face, now with her gone there would be no such protection. Broots decided that his daughter would be safer elsewhere until they could see which direction Mr. Raines would aim his vindictive anger.
Sydney was also affected by her absence, in the months following Carthis he had grown closer to his usually closed off colleague. She had inexplicably reached out and accepted what he could offer by way of companionship and advice. He had been surprised but welcomed their growing closeness, now she was gone. Sydney hoped that wherever Jarod would place her, in her new life, that she would finally find the happiness that had been denied her for so many years.
Once the plane touched down and the solemn group slowly made their way back into the ominous stone edifice where they spent much of their life, they broke up into two groups: One headed straight for the sub-levels where their workspaces were located while the other group headed directly towards the main upper mezzanine level where the chairman awaited news of their trip. Miles, the head security detail sweeper, who had been assigned to ‘safe-guard’ Miss Parker, accompanied Sydney. Broots, still carrying Miss Parker’s bags, headed straight to his own office in the tech-section of the main building.
When Sydney finished giving his report to Raines and Mr. Lyle, who happened to be in the chairman’s office, Sydney watched the chairman’s face grow pale with anger. The large room was quiet except for the loudly audible sighs of Raines drawing oxygen from his portable supply. Turning his sepulchral gaze on Miles, Raines stared at the sweeper for several minutes without breathing. Sydney watched with creeping horror as the seconds slowly crawled by. Even Lyle noticed that the audible breathing had suddenly stopped without resuming for at least a couple minutes as he stared at his new boss and father with incredulous fascination.
“I thought I told you to keep an eye on her. It was your responsibility to keep her from running or from any harm coming to her,” he said in a flat voice.
“Sir, there were two sweepers on guard at all times. When we entered her locked room, we were unable to find her or her method of escape,” the sweeper answered in a shaky voice.
“Unacceptable. You have lost my daughter and now you’re incompetence will cost you dearly. Report to the renewal wing after you have finished writing up an account of your failure.”
Before Miles could leave, Sydney interjected smoothly. “Perhaps this will explain how Parker got passed two armed sweepers without being detected,” he said quietly as he handed over the note Jarod had left.
Taking the note, Raines read what it said, apparently several times since the note was short and he continued staring at it for a number of minutes. Without looking up, Raines intoned, “This is an interesting development. It would indicate that there is a relationship between Miss Parker and Jarod on a level we have been deceived about. What have you to say on this subject?”
“It’s obvious that Jarod must have deduced the pressures you have been subjecting on Miss Parker. Since he left this note in an origami figure of Onisius then he is trying to tell us that he has come to her rescue. There is no reason to suppose there is a romantic aspect to their acquaintance,” Sydney replied easily, partially surprised at the depth of Raines’ perception.
“Miss Parker has been particularly unsuccessful in capturing Jarod, this note would point to another cause for her failures other than her ineptitude. Sydney, run a complete psychological profile on Miss Parker, I want to know all her weaknesses, especially those which will expose her.”
“Of course Mr. Raines. I will need access to her house for any papers or letters that may be of some use. Perhaps Miles can assist me, it would give him a chance to redeem himself since Sam is still unavailable?”
“Be careful Sydney, there is only one Onisius and we want him back home where he belongs,” Raines breathed wetly.
Interstate 18
Iowa-Wisconsin border
The dark blue SUV was roomy and comfortable for the long trip. Jarod had been driving since they left the motel and hiked what seemed like a mile through back alleys and darkened streets to the vehicle. The only pause in their travels occurred when Jarod enigmatically pulled over in the middle of nowhere, hooked up his laptop computer to a satellite phone and typed furiously for approximately 20 minutes, then quickly closed the computer, unhooked the satellite phone and carefully repacked the equipment with a smug smirk on his face. Parker was slumped down in the passenger seat going over in her mind the wisdom of her decision. As she suspected, the voices were quiet when she truly needed them. She glanced at her new traveling companion as he tirelessly continued to drive.
Very little conversation had been exchanged as she brooded and he remained alert and cautious. She suddenly turned in her seat to reach for an energy bar she had spotted in one of Jarod’s bags. After a bit of rummaging she found what she was looking for, however when she glanced through the rear window she spotted a trooper’s cruiser coming up behind them at an impressive speed.
“Are you speeding?” she asked with a tinge of annoyance.
“No, and the tail lights are all intact. Maybe they are on their way to an emergency up the road,” he replied evenly.
His conjecture was answered when the cruiser’s overhead lights started to flash. Jarod pulled smoothly to the shoulder and waited patiently in the vehicle for the trooper to approach. Looking in the side mirror, Jarod’s brow furrowed when he saw the trooper get out of the cruiser but he said nothing. Parker, looking through the mirror on her side, frowned thoughtfully. She quickly leaned forward and opened the glove box which revealed her silver 9mm handgun, she reached for the sunglasses instead and closed the compartment.
“Howdy folks, out for a drive a little early this morning?” the trooper asked in a friendly voice.
“Yes, we’re on our way to Green Bay. Is there something wrong, Deputy…..” Jarod asked trying to find out his name.
“Stubbs. May I have your license and registration please?”
“Sure, Officer. May I ask why you pulled us over? I have my cruise control set at 55mph,” Jarod asked in an equally friendly voice as he fished his wallet out of his back pants pocket.
“Well, you can never depend on those gadgets. These foreign cars are very unreliable, I clocked you going at least 75mph.”
“Yeah, right,” Parker said in a low, sarcastic voice watching the second trooper with growing interest as he sauntered over to the vehicle, his Sam Browne slouching jauntily on his hip.
The second trooper had walked up to her window and leaning over said in a gruff voice, “would you mind stepping out for me, ma’am?”
Parker unlocked the door and stepped out. The trooper towered over her and was clearly so overweight that his uniform had trouble catching up to his growing size. Eying him distrustfully she was about to ask him what he wanted when he grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around so she was facing the side door.
“Hey, watch it there, Bubba, what’s going on here?”
The trooper started to frisk her but instead of looking for weapons his hands lingered licentiously over her breasts and he placed a hand on her behind, gently squeezing her.
“You want more?” she asked in a suggestive voice. Pivoting on one foot she whirled around and delivered a perfectly timed kick at the trooper’s knee. She didn’t wait to hear the loud snap as she broke his kneecap; she kept up her assault by kicking him again in the solar plexus and punching him in the neck. The trooper went down heavily; the vicious blow to his neck cut off his loud and pain-ridden shout. For good measure she stomped on his other knee using all her weight, thus breaking his other leg.
“What are you doing?” the first trooper screamed when he heard the abrupt shout from his partner as he was attacked. Jarod moved swiftly, sweeping the trooper’s feet from under him and landing on the trooper’s back with his knee driving the breath from the other man. Jarod then removed the trooper’s weapon and forced one of his hands behind his back, pinching a nerve along the way, Jarod whispered in his ear for the trooper to cooperate.
“Okay, why did you do that?” Jarod asked Parker as he brought his prisoner to her side of the SUV and out of sight of any passing vehicles, though the road was empty for miles. He watched as she frisked the prone trooper’s back pockets and relieved the painfully panting man of his wallet and sidearm.
“I’ll be this good ‘ole boy’s uncle, if he’s a real cop,” she replied pensively. Looking at the badge in the wallet she glanced at the ID and commented, “Well, what do you know.”
“What? They really are cops?” he asked incredulously.
“No. I was right, they aren’t. Not unless this guy is 28, six foot two and 205 pounds.” Leaning over, she stared into the middle aged, obese trooper’s face and muttered softly, “As a rule, I don’t have any particular love or hate for cops but you better hope the one’s you stole these uniforms and car from are still alive because I hate cop killers.” Menace dripped from her voice.
Noticing the sincere tone in her voice, the fake trooper Jarod was holding practically yelled, “Okay, okay, the real cops are handcuffed in the trunk of the car, they’re still alive.”
Straightening up, Parker looked at the fear in the fake trooper’s face and gave him a tiny, cold smile. She opened the door of the SUV and leaning inside retrieved a plain baseball cap and tucked her hair completely under it. Then she fished out a sticky roller, used to remove lint off clothing and walking up to Jarod said, “I need you to bush this over my back.”
Understanding her intent, Jarod nodded and looked at the fake trooper as he tweaked the nerves in his arm causing the man to yell in pain. “Don’t try anything.” His response was a jaw-clinched nod and Jarod carefully passed the roller over her back removing stray hairs and fibers from her clothing. While he used the roller Jarod asked, “What was your first clue they were fake troopers?”
“The Sam Browne. My idiot thought the keepers were a decoration, apparently when the trooper undressed he must have taken them off and this guy just put them back on for show. He obviously didn’t realize the keepers are used to attach the Sam Browne to the belt. So brain-surgeon over here was walking around trying to look like John Wayne. That plus the way the uniform didn’t fit, when someone else is paying for it, a cop definitely will get a uniform that fits well, especially after he’s gained so much weight.”
“Not bad, that was my clue too. Also, my guy doesn’t know the difference between the State Police and County Sheriffs.”
When he was done, she took back the roller and passed it over the front of her clothing and then did the same to Jarod’s chest and back. When she was finished she tossed the roller back into one of the duffels.
Parker leaned over the prone trooper and quickly frisked him and found some black leather gloves. Putting on the gloves, Parker walked to the cruiser and inspecting the interior, turned off the lights and popped the trunk. There she found the two real troopers, looking forlorn but hopeful.
“I need to know what your call sign is so we can get you some help. Tell me that and I’ll get you out of this trunk,” she said softly.
The troopers looked up at her disbelievingly. The baseball cap hid her hair and the dark sunglasses concealed her eyes—her appearance hardly instilled confidence. Their reluctance was apparent as she stared at them, then shrugging she reached up to close the trunk again but stopped as their muffled cries started.
“All right, one more time. I will remove one of the gags and all I want to know is your call sign, got it?”
Resigned nods were her answer as she reached over to one of them and pulled the tape off his mouth. The man was breathing heavily and his face was flushed, Parker waited patiently for him to recover. Just as he was about to speak she interrupted him. “I only want to hear your call sign, nothing else or I’ll close this trunk again.”
Licking his lips the real trooper nodded and said, “31-boy-20-adam.”
“Good. Now, what’s your name, Officer?”
“Trooper Mayhew, ma’am please get us out of here.”
She placed the trooper’s gun in her back waistband and made sure they saw her do this. Then one by one, she bodily hauled them out of the trunk since their legs had been duck taped together and their hands handcuffed behind their backs. They were standing next to the trunk when she replaced the duck tape over the trooper’s mouth, shutting off his pleas.
Jarod joined her dragging the fake trooper along with him and the group stood at the back of the cruiser.
“Wait a second, I think I spotted a hog tie back here,” she said to Jarod. She produced a hobble restraint and handed it to him. Jarod used the restraint to tie the fake trooper’s hands using some unusual knots, then told the man to get into the trunk. As he was doing that, Parker opened the back door of the cruiser and tapping one of the bloodied, underwear clad troopers on the shoulder, guided him patiently into the rear seat. The second trooper hopped behind his partner and got in beside him. She closed the door with a loud thump. Jarod was dragging the prone impersonator to the back of the cruiser and with Parker’s help, loaded his heavy, partially conscious form into the trunk on top of his friend. The first fake trooper began to protest, when Jarod spoke up in a clear voice and said, “You didn’t think about the comfort of the real troopers when you put them in here, so there is no reason for me to consider yours. Their jobs are hard enough without losers like you, kidnapping them then using their equipment to prey on innocent drivers. Think about that while you sweat it out in here.” With that he slammed the trunk closed with a gloved hand.
“You used to be a cop once, I’ll leave it to you to call for assistance for them, they’re looking a bit dehydrated. Their call sign is 31-boy-20-adam.”
Jarod grinned at her suddenly glad she had come with him. She returned his smile and watched as he talked to the police dispatcher on the radio. When he was finished, he scrupulously wiped the mike off, placed both of the troopers’ weapons in the glove box, got out of the cruiser and walked back with her to their SUV.
They had driven about ten miles away when Jarod abruptly pulled off the road and using the LandRover’s excellent 4-wheel drive system found a bush large enough to hide the SUV. Jarod got out and removed the plates from the car and replaced them with fresh Wisconsin plates. He handed the discarded set to Parker, who in turn meticulously removed any fingerprints from the metal plates while Jarod dug a small grave for them. When he was finished burying the plates, the wail of responding police units whizzed by them. As the last of the sirens faded into the distance, the two Centre fugitives returned to the SUV and continued their trip towards Wisconsin.
Author’s note: Just in case there are those folks out there who didn’t understand some of the terminology—a Sam Browne is the equipment belt law enforcement officers wear. ‘Keepers’ are small leather straps usually studded with two silver buttons that are used to secure the Sam Browne to the pants belt. Without the keepers, the Sam Browne tends to sag from the heavy weight of the officer’s equipment, ie, radio, pistol, handcuffs, etc. making it difficult to function not to mention run after suspects.
Chapter 6
By Callisto
Super 8 Motel
Omaha, NB
The day had dawned bright and cheerful. The air was crisp and the gathering light from the sun still held the magic that a new day promises. The man dressed all in gray was oblivious to this beauty. Indeed, his emotions and inner life had a kaleidoscope of colors that matched his clothing, rendering him insensible to anything outside of his own ambition and needs. He squatted comfortably in the corner of a nearby roof with a pair of binoculars attached to his face as he scanned the upper floors of the seedy motel Jarod had picked for his pursuers.
The man waited and watched with a single-mindedness which bespoke of his arduous and unyielding training. He was waiting for Jarod to make an appearance; unaware that despite the hours spent waiting, he had missed his quarry, his role model, by at least an hour. Jarod, as surprised at his reception as he was by the success of his mission, had left with the object of his affections long before his dogged shadow had a chance to see him leave. What Alex saw instead was the remainder of the pursuit team, force open her door and enter. A few minutes later a sweeper exited, then 15 minutes after he left, a thin, balding man carrying a dark garment bag and a smaller carry-on bag departed. Shortly after, an older man emerged and closed the door, in his hand was an item that caught Alex’s attention. It was a message from Jarod; he was hanging up his wings and leaving the job of Onisius to his accomplished counterpart. Alex’s lips reflexively formed a wry smile, he was glad that Jarod was out of the picture but he would have preferred knowing where the other pretender had gone. He was sure Jarod was going to ground now, it would be sometime before anyone would hear from him again, especially since it was clear from the other Centre employees actions that she went with him.
Lowering the binoculars, Alex released a heavy sigh. Jarod was good, brilliant even when he wanted to be, Alex conceded. Very few people, including other pretenders, ever got the best of Alex. He knew he would have to bide his time before finalizing his plans in regards to Jarod. Now was the time to keep the Centre off balance and to let them know a new player was now at the table.
The Centre
Blue Cove, DE
Several hours later, they had reassembled the pursuit team and left en masse from the motel to board the private jet headed back to the Centre. Broots’ emotions were in flux as he brooded about his boss’ flight. He wasn’t sure how he would tell Debbie, his daughter had become very fond of Miss Parker and she had encouraged the teenager’s attachment by spending hours with the girl, just talking and spending quality time with her. Broots was also afraid, he suddenly realized that Miss Parker’s presence had kept the wrath of Raines from hitting both him and Sydney square in the face, now with her gone there would be no such protection. Broots decided that his daughter would be safer elsewhere until they could see which direction Mr. Raines would aim his vindictive anger.
Sydney was also affected by her absence, in the months following Carthis he had grown closer to his usually closed off colleague. She had inexplicably reached out and accepted what he could offer by way of companionship and advice. He had been surprised but welcomed their growing closeness, now she was gone. Sydney hoped that wherever Jarod would place her, in her new life, that she would finally find the happiness that had been denied her for so many years.
Once the plane touched down and the solemn group slowly made their way back into the ominous stone edifice where they spent much of their life, they broke up into two groups: One headed straight for the sub-levels where their workspaces were located while the other group headed directly towards the main upper mezzanine level where the chairman awaited news of their trip. Miles, the head security detail sweeper, who had been assigned to ‘safe-guard’ Miss Parker, accompanied Sydney. Broots, still carrying Miss Parker’s bags, headed straight to his own office in the tech-section of the main building.
When Sydney finished giving his report to Raines and Mr. Lyle, who happened to be in the chairman’s office, Sydney watched the chairman’s face grow pale with anger. The large room was quiet except for the loudly audible sighs of Raines drawing oxygen from his portable supply. Turning his sepulchral gaze on Miles, Raines stared at the sweeper for several minutes without breathing. Sydney watched with creeping horror as the seconds slowly crawled by. Even Lyle noticed that the audible breathing had suddenly stopped without resuming for at least a couple minutes as he stared at his new boss and father with incredulous fascination.
“I thought I told you to keep an eye on her. It was your responsibility to keep her from running or from any harm coming to her,” he said in a flat voice.
“Sir, there were two sweepers on guard at all times. When we entered her locked room, we were unable to find her or her method of escape,” the sweeper answered in a shaky voice.
“Unacceptable. You have lost my daughter and now you’re incompetence will cost you dearly. Report to the renewal wing after you have finished writing up an account of your failure.”
Before Miles could leave, Sydney interjected smoothly. “Perhaps this will explain how Parker got passed two armed sweepers without being detected,” he said quietly as he handed over the note Jarod had left.
Taking the note, Raines read what it said, apparently several times since the note was short and he continued staring at it for a number of minutes. Without looking up, Raines intoned, “This is an interesting development. It would indicate that there is a relationship between Miss Parker and Jarod on a level we have been deceived about. What have you to say on this subject?”
“It’s obvious that Jarod must have deduced the pressures you have been subjecting on Miss Parker. Since he left this note in an origami figure of Onisius then he is trying to tell us that he has come to her rescue. There is no reason to suppose there is a romantic aspect to their acquaintance,” Sydney replied easily, partially surprised at the depth of Raines’ perception.
“Miss Parker has been particularly unsuccessful in capturing Jarod, this note would point to another cause for her failures other than her ineptitude. Sydney, run a complete psychological profile on Miss Parker, I want to know all her weaknesses, especially those which will expose her.”
“Of course Mr. Raines. I will need access to her house for any papers or letters that may be of some use. Perhaps Miles can assist me, it would give him a chance to redeem himself since Sam is still unavailable?”
“Be careful Sydney, there is only one Onisius and we want him back home where he belongs,” Raines breathed wetly.
Interstate 18
Iowa-Wisconsin border
The dark blue SUV was roomy and comfortable for the long trip. Jarod had been driving since they left the motel and hiked what seemed like a mile through back alleys and darkened streets to the vehicle. The only pause in their travels occurred when Jarod enigmatically pulled over in the middle of nowhere, hooked up his laptop computer to a satellite phone and typed furiously for approximately 20 minutes, then quickly closed the computer, unhooked the satellite phone and carefully repacked the equipment with a smug smirk on his face. Parker was slumped down in the passenger seat going over in her mind the wisdom of her decision. As she suspected, the voices were quiet when she truly needed them. She glanced at her new traveling companion as he tirelessly continued to drive.
Very little conversation had been exchanged as she brooded and he remained alert and cautious. She suddenly turned in her seat to reach for an energy bar she had spotted in one of Jarod’s bags. After a bit of rummaging she found what she was looking for, however when she glanced through the rear window she spotted a trooper’s cruiser coming up behind them at an impressive speed.
“Are you speeding?” she asked with a tinge of annoyance.
“No, and the tail lights are all intact. Maybe they are on their way to an emergency up the road,” he replied evenly.
His conjecture was answered when the cruiser’s overhead lights started to flash. Jarod pulled smoothly to the shoulder and waited patiently in the vehicle for the trooper to approach. Looking in the side mirror, Jarod’s brow furrowed when he saw the trooper get out of the cruiser but he said nothing. Parker, looking through the mirror on her side, frowned thoughtfully. She quickly leaned forward and opened the glove box which revealed her silver 9mm handgun, she reached for the sunglasses instead and closed the compartment.
“Howdy folks, out for a drive a little early this morning?” the trooper asked in a friendly voice.
“Yes, we’re on our way to Green Bay. Is there something wrong, Deputy…..” Jarod asked trying to find out his name.
“Stubbs. May I have your license and registration please?”
“Sure, Officer. May I ask why you pulled us over? I have my cruise control set at 55mph,” Jarod asked in an equally friendly voice as he fished his wallet out of his back pants pocket.
“Well, you can never depend on those gadgets. These foreign cars are very unreliable, I clocked you going at least 75mph.”
“Yeah, right,” Parker said in a low, sarcastic voice watching the second trooper with growing interest as he sauntered over to the vehicle, his Sam Browne slouching jauntily on his hip.
The second trooper had walked up to her window and leaning over said in a gruff voice, “would you mind stepping out for me, ma’am?”
Parker unlocked the door and stepped out. The trooper towered over her and was clearly so overweight that his uniform had trouble catching up to his growing size. Eying him distrustfully she was about to ask him what he wanted when he grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around so she was facing the side door.
“Hey, watch it there, Bubba, what’s going on here?”
The trooper started to frisk her but instead of looking for weapons his hands lingered licentiously over her breasts and he placed a hand on her behind, gently squeezing her.
“You want more?” she asked in a suggestive voice. Pivoting on one foot she whirled around and delivered a perfectly timed kick at the trooper’s knee. She didn’t wait to hear the loud snap as she broke his kneecap; she kept up her assault by kicking him again in the solar plexus and punching him in the neck. The trooper went down heavily; the vicious blow to his neck cut off his loud and pain-ridden shout. For good measure she stomped on his other knee using all her weight, thus breaking his other leg.
“What are you doing?” the first trooper screamed when he heard the abrupt shout from his partner as he was attacked. Jarod moved swiftly, sweeping the trooper’s feet from under him and landing on the trooper’s back with his knee driving the breath from the other man. Jarod then removed the trooper’s weapon and forced one of his hands behind his back, pinching a nerve along the way, Jarod whispered in his ear for the trooper to cooperate.
“Okay, why did you do that?” Jarod asked Parker as he brought his prisoner to her side of the SUV and out of sight of any passing vehicles, though the road was empty for miles. He watched as she frisked the prone trooper’s back pockets and relieved the painfully panting man of his wallet and sidearm.
“I’ll be this good ‘ole boy’s uncle, if he’s a real cop,” she replied pensively. Looking at the badge in the wallet she glanced at the ID and commented, “Well, what do you know.”
“What? They really are cops?” he asked incredulously.
“No. I was right, they aren’t. Not unless this guy is 28, six foot two and 205 pounds.” Leaning over, she stared into the middle aged, obese trooper’s face and muttered softly, “As a rule, I don’t have any particular love or hate for cops but you better hope the one’s you stole these uniforms and car from are still alive because I hate cop killers.” Menace dripped from her voice.
Noticing the sincere tone in her voice, the fake trooper Jarod was holding practically yelled, “Okay, okay, the real cops are handcuffed in the trunk of the car, they’re still alive.”
Straightening up, Parker looked at the fear in the fake trooper’s face and gave him a tiny, cold smile. She opened the door of the SUV and leaning inside retrieved a plain baseball cap and tucked her hair completely under it. Then she fished out a sticky roller, used to remove lint off clothing and walking up to Jarod said, “I need you to bush this over my back.”
Understanding her intent, Jarod nodded and looked at the fake trooper as he tweaked the nerves in his arm causing the man to yell in pain. “Don’t try anything.” His response was a jaw-clinched nod and Jarod carefully passed the roller over her back removing stray hairs and fibers from her clothing. While he used the roller Jarod asked, “What was your first clue they were fake troopers?”
“The Sam Browne. My idiot thought the keepers were a decoration, apparently when the trooper undressed he must have taken them off and this guy just put them back on for show. He obviously didn’t realize the keepers are used to attach the Sam Browne to the belt. So brain-surgeon over here was walking around trying to look like John Wayne. That plus the way the uniform didn’t fit, when someone else is paying for it, a cop definitely will get a uniform that fits well, especially after he’s gained so much weight.”
“Not bad, that was my clue too. Also, my guy doesn’t know the difference between the State Police and County Sheriffs.”
When he was done, she took back the roller and passed it over the front of her clothing and then did the same to Jarod’s chest and back. When she was finished she tossed the roller back into one of the duffels.
Parker leaned over the prone trooper and quickly frisked him and found some black leather gloves. Putting on the gloves, Parker walked to the cruiser and inspecting the interior, turned off the lights and popped the trunk. There she found the two real troopers, looking forlorn but hopeful.
“I need to know what your call sign is so we can get you some help. Tell me that and I’ll get you out of this trunk,” she said softly.
The troopers looked up at her disbelievingly. The baseball cap hid her hair and the dark sunglasses concealed her eyes—her appearance hardly instilled confidence. Their reluctance was apparent as she stared at them, then shrugging she reached up to close the trunk again but stopped as their muffled cries started.
“All right, one more time. I will remove one of the gags and all I want to know is your call sign, got it?”
Resigned nods were her answer as she reached over to one of them and pulled the tape off his mouth. The man was breathing heavily and his face was flushed, Parker waited patiently for him to recover. Just as he was about to speak she interrupted him. “I only want to hear your call sign, nothing else or I’ll close this trunk again.”
Licking his lips the real trooper nodded and said, “31-boy-20-adam.”
“Good. Now, what’s your name, Officer?”
“Trooper Mayhew, ma’am please get us out of here.”
She placed the trooper’s gun in her back waistband and made sure they saw her do this. Then one by one, she bodily hauled them out of the trunk since their legs had been duck taped together and their hands handcuffed behind their backs. They were standing next to the trunk when she replaced the duck tape over the trooper’s mouth, shutting off his pleas.
Jarod joined her dragging the fake trooper along with him and the group stood at the back of the cruiser.
“Wait a second, I think I spotted a hog tie back here,” she said to Jarod. She produced a hobble restraint and handed it to him. Jarod used the restraint to tie the fake trooper’s hands using some unusual knots, then told the man to get into the trunk. As he was doing that, Parker opened the back door of the cruiser and tapping one of the bloodied, underwear clad troopers on the shoulder, guided him patiently into the rear seat. The second trooper hopped behind his partner and got in beside him. She closed the door with a loud thump. Jarod was dragging the prone impersonator to the back of the cruiser and with Parker’s help, loaded his heavy, partially conscious form into the trunk on top of his friend. The first fake trooper began to protest, when Jarod spoke up in a clear voice and said, “You didn’t think about the comfort of the real troopers when you put them in here, so there is no reason for me to consider yours. Their jobs are hard enough without losers like you, kidnapping them then using their equipment to prey on innocent drivers. Think about that while you sweat it out in here.” With that he slammed the trunk closed with a gloved hand.
“You used to be a cop once, I’ll leave it to you to call for assistance for them, they’re looking a bit dehydrated. Their call sign is 31-boy-20-adam.”
Jarod grinned at her suddenly glad she had come with him. She returned his smile and watched as he talked to the police dispatcher on the radio. When he was finished, he scrupulously wiped the mike off, placed both of the troopers’ weapons in the glove box, got out of the cruiser and walked back with her to their SUV.
They had driven about ten miles away when Jarod abruptly pulled off the road and using the LandRover’s excellent 4-wheel drive system found a bush large enough to hide the SUV. Jarod got out and removed the plates from the car and replaced them with fresh Wisconsin plates. He handed the discarded set to Parker, who in turn meticulously removed any fingerprints from the metal plates while Jarod dug a small grave for them. When he was finished burying the plates, the wail of responding police units whizzed by them. As the last of the sirens faded into the distance, the two Centre fugitives returned to the SUV and continued their trip towards Wisconsin.
Author’s note: Just in case there are those folks out there who didn’t understand some of the terminology—a Sam Browne is the equipment belt law enforcement officers wear. ‘Keepers’ are small leather straps usually studded with two silver buttons that are used to secure the Sam Browne to the pants belt. Without the keepers, the Sam Browne tends to sag from the heavy weight of the officer’s equipment, ie, radio, pistol, handcuffs, etc. making it difficult to function not to mention run after suspects.
