Old 08-22-2011, 11:10 PM   #1
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Shackled

Shackled (closed to Eklectik Chik and Fish_Tales)

******


It had begun nobly, as with most things that eventually become corrupted. The Earth had been heating up, so greenhouse gases needed to be reduced. There was widespread poverty and illness. Food was in limited supply. Governments had decided that the best way to manage this was through the use of carbon taxes that would limit the use of carbon and encourage the development of alternative energy sources. Drugs were to be used sparingly and rationing was implemented. Land for the production of food was appropriated. In some cases, whole nations had been appropriated.

Energy companies, pharmaceutical companies and food producers had become the most powerful organisations in the world.

Now, citizens no longer knew if governments ran the world or if corporations did. They had become entwined. The boundaries between corporate and government had become blurred. Information was controlled. Citizens struggled to live any aspect of their life without government or corporate interference.

The Global Energy, Health and Food Management Council (GEHFMC) had become the most important body in the world. The IMF reported to it. Even the United Nations reported to it. Energy, health and nutrition were the most important issues on the planet.

No one could supply any fuel, drugs or food besides governments and major corporations. They had licences that were acquired with huge fees. The money was, of course, recouped from consumers. There was no “leakage”.Unauthorised supply resulted in swift apprehension and punishment.

Severe punishment.

Global consumption of these essentials had been reduced, but only for the poor. The minority rich used as much energy, drugs and food, if not more, as before.

Cars were rare and little-used by the general populace because of the metals and energy required to produce them. It was worth almost a year of the average salary to buy a bottom range one. And that was if you could afford to run it.

Houses? Forget it. Houses had long ago been out of the reach of normal people. Now either the Government or corporations owned all of the new building developments and suburbs. Anyone who had owned a house before the change was a multimillionaire. The problem was if you didn’t have a high enough regular income to service your energy, health and food requirements, then you were forced to sell it anyway.

To the government.

Because cars and houses were so expensive, everyone lived close to their workplaces. The government and large companies controlled the whole population.

This was life as it was now. Everyone accepted it. The present generation had known no different, but there were still people who remembered what it was like to have a car, or a house or natural food.

Special Police Forces patrolled the streets.

In 2040, life wasn’t much fun.

If you were alive.



***************

The Glock felt heavy in his hand. It was old, but it was his favourite. Polymer frame. Ferritic nitrocarburizing. It wouldn’t rust.

He was racking his brain, trying to work out how many rounds he’d used.

Eleven? Twelve?

He could check, but he didn’t have time. He had to make it to the dumpster.

Or he was dead.

Assume twelve. That means three rounds left. I’ve got to make it to the dumpster.

He took a deep breath.

The Package was at his feet. That’s what he called him: The Package. No point getting personal. They wouldn’t know each other for long. He might even be dead soon. Who knew? No point being on a first name basis with a corpse.

“Get the fuck up,” he said. “We have to make it to the dumpster. Can you make it?”

The Package was breathing heavily. He was out of condition. He nodded.

“I….think….so,” he said between gasps.

Fat fuck.

Why can’t they send me to get someone fit for once? Even just healthy. Someone who could at least run more than ten metres without throwing up.

“Well don’t think so, know so,” he said. “When I say ‘three’ we bolt for the dumpster. And….”

“….and what?” asked The Package.

“Don’t expect me to fucking carry you. If it comes down to you or me, it’s me. Do you fucking understand?”

The Package nodded, his face red with exertion.

The rain kept coming down, a steady drizzle. The slick blackness of the bitumen looked treacherous in the dark, but they had to make it. The police weren’t far behind.

Here goes.

He tightened his grip on the empty bottle in his hand.

“One….two….three!”

He threw the empty bottle twenty metres down the alley and high into the air. He pulled The Package to his feet by the collar and turned and ran in the other direction.

As fast as he could.

The bottle smashed as it hit the bitumen.

Run.

Fast.

Thirty metres to go.

No gunfire.

Yet.

Twenty metres.

Nothing.

Yet.

Five metres.

He made it. He was behind the dumpster. The Package lumbered towards him and made it too.

Good.

That’s why he trained. If he got out of this alive, he would never again procrastinate about getting out of bed to train. Jessica had always complained about the amount of time he spent training. He always told her that it was about being prepared.

For this.

She didn’t complain anymore.

She was dead.

Stop thinking about her. You have to get this fat fuck back and collect your money.

That’s all you should be thinking about.

Fat fuck. A bit of alliteration. Poetry under gunfire. Had to be a book in that….

Stop fucking around, Hansen.


There were still no shots. No footsteps. Just the rain dripping off the dumpster, into the puddles in the bitumen. Just the heavy breathing of his alliterative companion. The Package. The fat fuck.

Maybe I’ve lost them.

Yeah, right. Or maybe they’re getting into better positions....

He bent down on one knee and checked the gun. The Glock had three rounds left.

So, he’d used twelve.

I need to get out of this alley.

There were three ways out. The way he’d come in was one. He wasn’t going back that way. There was also the end of the alley.

Too far for The Package.

There was another right-of-way that ran off the alley. He didn’t know where it lead, but he did know where it would lead if he stayed here.

Dead.

No more kisses from Jessica.

Jessica’s dead, forget about her. No more drinking. No more dingy dives to sleep in. No more shit jobs.

Get a grip of yourself, mate. That’s your life. Get over it or lose it.


He had to make it back. Not to much admitedly, but at least it was something.

His breathing had returned to normal. He looked up and down the alley. There was no movement. That didn’t mean anything, but it was promising.

Maybe they’d been scared off. He’d taken one of them down. He didn’t know if he was dead.

Fuck him.

If they could get to the right-of-way, then they had a chance. There were only two of them left following and there were three ways out.

You’re a gambler.

Thirty three point three percent chance of picking the right answer.

Recurring.


He got up from his haunches and poked his head up slowly from behind the dumpster.

Nothing.

Right.

Now is the time
.

“Right, we’re nearly there. When I say ‘three’, we’re outta here. Get it?”

The Package looked up and nodded. He couldn’t suck in enough air to speak.

Hansen counted down in his head and yelled, “Three!”

They took off.

His legs pumped hard, but he trained hard. He could keep it up.

If he wanted to live.

He turned around the corner and into the right of way.

It was clear! And he was only thirty metres from the main street.

People. Crowds.

Safety.


He turned around. The Package was making a good fist of it, but there was still some distance to go. He pointed the gun down the alley. The Package ran past him and he waited a couple of seconds, the gun pointing down the alley. Then he turned.

Run!

He bolted for the end of the lane till his lungs felt like they were filled with burning sulphur. He passed the fat fuck, but he kept running.

He made it. It came out next to a transit stop. He leaned against the aluminium and glass shelter. He was sucking in big breaths of air.

The Package collapsed onto his knees beside him.

They were alive.

“What….do….we….do….now?” gasped his running companion.

“We catch the bus,” Hansen said. “Unless you’d like to walk?”

He smirked at The Package.

And I can get rid of you and get paid.

Fat fuck.

*EC

Last edited by Fish_Tales : 08-23-2011 at 09:59 AM.
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Old 08-22-2011, 11:17 PM   #2
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Liam Hansen
Age: 37
Past: Ex-military
Present: A fixer. Of anything....


http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_inmRP-H0PG...0/s320/fox.jpg

Last edited by Fish_Tales : 08-22-2011 at 11:48 PM.
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Old 08-23-2011, 02:56 PM   #3
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Emma Hopson
Age: 34
Appearance: 5'3", long dark brown wavy hair, brown eyes flecked with gold, pale skinned, slender and in shape.
Occupation: Scientist

***

Ten long years of her life had been eaten up by her work and what did she have to show for it? Nothing. Emma hugged her black parker closer to her body, shivering as a gust of wind hit her small frame. Under a dark hat she'd stuffed her hair inside and tugged it low, ditched her reading glasses and dressed herself in a pair of jeans that sported several tears in them and a t-shirt. Nothings screamed 'look at me' which is just what she wanted.

This was a far cry from her 'comfortable' day to day life, she thought wryly. She'd been the brain, the one every depended on, specializing in pharmaceuticals. Young and naive, she'd been striving to make the world a better place...a place where drugs could be affordable again and the sick could be cared for once again. Forget this rationing. The general public would have a way...some hope.

That was weeks ago...2 weeks and 3 days to be exact when she had gotten word of the true plan behind the work she had plunged herself into and walked away from the company with a disk hidden in the safety of her bra. Her bra! Anger had bubbled over and then panic. She'd only copied her data in hopes of finding out the big picture of the corporations plan. Then she would have to find the cure...ironically, a cure in which she had been working on to begin with.

"They'll hunt you down like a dog, Em." Simon had warned her when he'd gotten wind of her plan.

"I can't let them get away with this." She'd argued back, "Imagine it! Men, women and children are rapidly dropping like flies...if this gets out. If it's what I think it is the populations will dwindle further. And then what? Hmmm? It could be your kids, Simon. Your wife. I'm not going to let that happen."


And hung they did. The Special Forces were everywhere, questioning, scanning. Living in constant state of fear and nerves was exhausting. She hadn't eaten or slept in days, traveled through the seedy, dark alleyways of the city and stayed to herself. No contact with friends or family.

Prim and proper little Emma Hopson...a fugitive. She almost laughed out loud at herself. Nerdy Emma who usually had her nose stuck to a computer screen or her eyes fixed under a microscope. What did she know about the streets? Not much, but she was damn proud of herself for doing this well for this long. However, hunger and fatigue were getting the best of her. She wanted out of the cold and into the warmth.

Eying the small bar ahead, Emma looked around quickly and made her way over, holding onto her hat as another gust of wind picked up. Her stomach knotted with nerves as she peaked into the small establishment and 'casually' took a gander around the place. No Special Forces, just your average drunks.

Walking in fully, she headed to the restroom first in hopes of warming up her hands under some hot water and taking care of some basic hygiene before drowning the cold inside with something alcoholic.
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Old 08-23-2011, 09:15 PM   #4
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Hansen had dropped off The Package and received a tidy sum for it. “Fat fuck” was actually a dissident leader who’d informed on his own group to the Special Police Forces. The shed where he’d handed him over was full of angry looking people. There were saws, hammers, electric prods….

It didn’t look like fat fuck was going to have a very pleasant night.

Fuck him.

He stood outside the shed, on the edge of a pier. The black, oily water was calm below him, the rain droplets making dimples all over its surface. He took the fake badges off the sleeves of his shirt. Poor old fat fuck. He’d thought Hansen was government, come to get him. He placed the badges in one hand and squeezed them up. He leaned back and pitched them into the water.

Selling out your mates wasn’t a good idea. Especially if they find out. Hansen had been sold out by one of his own.

And he’d found out.

The motherfucker didn’t live to regret his mistake. He’d died with a grenade in his mouth. “Cat got your tongue?” was the last thing Hansen had said to him before his head had disappeared in different directions.

Now it was going to be fat fuck’s time. Fuck you, fat fuck.

He smirked. If he’d asked for payment by the kilo, then it might been an even more lucrative job.

You’re a card, Hansen.

But as he looked down on the water, his look was grim. There was no humour in his eyes. He turned away from the edge of the pier and looked towards the lights of the city.

“I need a fucking beer,” he muttered, and strode away from the shed.

It’s your funeral, fat fuck, and I’m not going.

*****

Hansen headed to his favourite bar. He only had two rules when it came to bars; they had to be dark and they had to serve beer. It made it pretty easy to find one.

No point limiting your options.

Here in the concrete facades of the city, the wind collected and funnelled down the streets. Hansen pushed against the irregular cold gusts of wind, the rain driving into his face like icy pin pricks. His cheeks were going numb.

Nothing a beer or three won’t fix.

He went through the doors of the bar and into its warmth. There were a few people in there, mainly the usual drunks and a few desperate couples engaged in stilted conversation and furtive touches.

People.

If it weren’t for the fact that their fuckups provided him with a lucrative income, Hansen could quite easily live his life without people. Since Jess, he hadn’t had to interact with many, besides for business transactions.

And that's the way I like it, he thought.

He strode to the bar. The bartender had thick forearms, thicker biceps and an even thicker neck. There was still muscle under there somewhere, but he was doing a good job of hiding it. A few more years and the camouflage would be complete and perfect.

The bartender grunted at him.

“Liam. What’ll it be?”

Hansen raised an eye back at him.

“Let’s try something different tonight,” he said.

“Ok, a beer,” said the bartender without waiting. He threw Hansen a clean bar towel that was folded next to him.

Hansen wiped the rain off his face and head and placed the towel back down on his bar.

The bartender placed a beer in front of him.

“Better pull me another one, Carl,” Hansen said to the bartender.

The bartender looked at him, no sign of humour.

“So it’s gonna be one of those nights?” he said.

“I reckon,” he replied.

He picked up his glass off the bar and decided to take a seat there. It was safer. Henry was not one to banter and he was closer to the beer. He had a pocket full of money and bar full of booze.

What more could I want?

Last edited by Fish_Tales : 08-23-2011 at 09:17 PM.
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Old 08-23-2011, 09:58 PM   #5
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The bathroom was dimly light, but thankfully it was small and had a lock on the door, prohibiting anyone else from bursting through. She hoped anyway. The single light bulb ahead flickered, threatening to plunge her into darkness. Emma only wished she could hide out so easily, but took what she could take.

The warm water made her sigh as she rinsed off her hands and squeezed the last bit of soap from the soap dispenser and worked up the lather, washing her face and blotting it it dry with the last remains of rough paper cheap paper towels.

Feeling moderately human again Emma made short work of finger combing her hair and twirling the long length of it up on top of her hair and stuffing her baseball hat back on - a loan from Simon upon her 'escape'.

Patting her back pocket, making sure what little cash she had managed to take out of her account and the disk were still safe and sound. "Okay...you're good. Time to get a drink and something to eat."

With a deep breath, she studied herself one last time and then pushed open the bathroom door, stepping through it. Low mumbles filled the air as people talked, drinking and exchanging...whatever it was they were exchanging. Thankfully, the bar was empty...apart from one man. She studied him a moment, shifting nervously and then pushed forward, sliding onto the a bar stool as one hell of a big man came lumbering over. "What will it be?"

"Um..." Damn...she drew a blank a moment and stared at his thick neck, blinking slowly. "Irish coffee? Yes...Irish coffee and do you have any food?"

She rarely frequented bars and something told her this joint didn't pack anything nutritious, but again, she would take what she could get.

The big man studied her a moment until she found herself tugging at her hat and drumming her fingers against the the top of the bar. "Nevermind."

"No worries sweet cheeks, I'll throw in a little something. Looks like you need a little meat on your bones." He said, making her flush self consciously. Moments later a large bowl of nuts and pretzels appearance and Emma almost moaned with delight. Yeah, it wasn't fancy, but it would fill the gnawing hunger in her gut.

"Thank you." She mumbled softly and tossed half a handful into her mouth, chewing with purpose.
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Old 08-24-2011, 12:06 AM   #6
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Hansen was on to his third beer and Carl would keep them coming for as long as he wanted. The familiar buzz in his head was there to distract him from his life.

A woman came and sat beside him. She was wearing ragged jeans and a baseball cap. Unusual, but not too out of line for the place they were in. He felt his space invaded.

Why the fuck do you have to sit here when there’s plenty of room everywhere else?

"Irish coffee? Yes...Irish coffee and do you have any food?" she said. Her voice was cultured and he could tell she was educated. She didn’t belong here and that got his radar pricking up a little.

Oh, he thought, one of those.

He looked across at her while she was dealing with Carl. She was pale and slender. Underneath her baseball cap, he could see some wisps of brown hair. He was looking at her in profile, trying to be surreptitious, so he couldn’t get a full view of her, but the view he did have was a good one.

Probably some rich wife slumming it. Occasionally he ran into one of those, looking to see how the other half lives.

And fucks.

Then they could run off back to their sugar daddies, content that they’d done something daring. They probably all sat around drinking champagne at lunch and recounting their exploits with those from the “other side.”

Hansen had fucked a few in his day. Sort of his way of giving the finger to the privileged.

Geez, you’re funny tonight, Hansen. The finger....

He wasn’t in the mood to engage tonight, but she grated on him. It wasn't her fault. Everyone did. Talking to people or listening to them was like running his fingernails down a blackboard, uncomfortable and something to be avoided.

He drank his beer and held his counsel. Carl could handle her. He nodded towards the bartender who nodded back.

Code: another beer on the way while I handle the rich bitch slumming it. He had known Carl for a long time and they didn’t need to speak. It was like there was telepathy between them. Carl had many skills. Some were useful. Some were dangerous. He and Carl understood each other.

He waited while the bartender handled his new client. He saw him bring over a bowl of nuts and pretzels and place it in front of the woman. Then Carl walked to the tap and pulled him another beer.

He felt good with the money he had and the alcohol was making him feel loose.

He couldn’t resist.

“Never had anyone order food in here before, Carl.”

Carl looked at him with a face that said: now, whaddya wanna start talkin’ like that for?

“Yeah,” continued Hansen.”Food and an Irish Coffee,” he said mockingly.

He took another large sip of his beer. The woman was eating her nuts and pretzels and doing a very good job of ignoring him, but he could see her jaw clenching. She was also looking ahead way too intently at the shelf of spirits to have not heard him.

He chuckled to himself.

If I can irk one rich, self-satisfied bitch tonight, then I’ve done the world a service.

“Carl,” he said. “One more….and hold the coffee.”

You are a card, Hansen, he thought, a real card.
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Old 08-24-2011, 09:15 AM   #7
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Emma wasn't entirely sure why she had chosen the seat right next to the man at the bar. Perhaps because he seemed normal compared to the rest of the group in the joint and was lost in his own thoughts, or so she thought.

Somehow, her presence seemed to irritate him, but Emma had her plan in mind, eat, drink and get the hell out of dodge until she could find someone to help her plight.

Soon the big lug named Carl scooted her coffee her way. The liquid sloshed slightly over the rim, but she didn't care. She needed to warm up and perk up her senses a little. Carefully she took a sip of the hot liquid and closed her eyes a moment, relishing the hot coffee and liquor that burned a path to her belly. Nothing had ever tasted so good after the hell she'd just gone through.

"Thank you, Carl." She told the bartender sweetly and flashed him a small smile, which earned her a snort from her bar stool companion. She stiffed slightly and after another long draw on her coffee, she turned her face to his, hoping she looked braver than she felt.

"I'm sorry, have I offended you in some way? Because correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't believe we even know each other." Turning back to her meager meal, she threw down some more nuts. What a state she was in. She had no change of clothes, no other money, no jewelry to pawn...she'd kill for a little lip balm and some mascara. It was the simple things. Instead she was stuck next to some jackass who was coming close to being a heckler.
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Old 08-24-2011, 05:44 PM   #8
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******

The black cars cruised silently into position and their electric motors were switched off. The LED sign at the front of the bar said “Carl’s Place.”

There were six cars. Two at the front entrance. Two at the service entrance at the rear of the building and there was also a car at either end of the street. The cars were unmarked, but it was unmistakeable as to what they were: Special Police Force.

SPF.

The door of the car closest to the bar’s entrance opened. A uniformed man got out of the car. He was dressed in black. He was part of their elite apprehension squad. He walked over to the other car on the opposite side of the entrance and tapped on the rear window.

The window noiselessly slid down.

The man inside the car was dressed in black. His silver hair was a sharp contrast to the black of his uniform and his small cap.

“Yes?” said the man inside the car.

“Sir,” said the man standing outside. “We’ve had a tip-off that Emma Hopson is in the bar.”

He stood there, his black helmet concealing his features. The rain continued to drizzle and the water ran in rivulets down his helmet and some down the back of his neck and under his jacket, but it didn’t appear to concern him.

“Good,” nodded the silver haired man. He waited. “But do I really have to be here and do we really need all this to apprehend her?” He looked at the other cars on the street. He also knew that there were two more at the rear and that the street had been secured.

“Sir, we also know that Liam Hansen is in the bar,” he said.

The silver haired man raised his eyebrows.

“Yes, that's good. Better than good,” he said smiling. Now he wondered if he had enough firepower. It might be better to call for more backup....

“Sir, our operative in there suggests that they may know each other. They are sitting together and conversing.”

“Coincidence?” asked the silver haired man.

“Sir, there are never coincidences where Hansen is concerned,” he said. “We suspect they’re working together.”

The silver haired man nodded and rubbed his chin with long, gnarly fingers. A general meeting with a dissident was not normally Hansen’s MO. He wasn’t a dissident type of guy. Hopson must have hired him to do something. They wouldn’t be meeting about bettering the world. Not Hansen. They were planning something. If it involved Hansen, it would be something big and it would be something disruptive.

Like always.

“Thank you,” he said to the man standing outside the car. “We need to get them both. I need Hansen alive. He has contacts with all the dissident groups and he knows where they meet. We do not believe he has a great deal of loyalty to them. We have to get him. Maybe he will deal.”

“Sir,” said the other man. “Deal? Hansen has never dealt before.”

“We can bargain with him,” said the silver haired man. “Give him something he wants.”

“Sir, like what?”

“Freedom, money, whatever.”

“Sir?”

The silver haired man knew what he was thinking.

“Oh, don’t worry, Corporal,” he said, “Liam Hansen has caused too much trouble to ever actually be released. We deal with him to find out what we can….then we kill him.”

The other man’s face was completely hidden by the dark plastic of his visor, but there was no doubt he was smiling under there. The night vision capability built into the helmet meant that he could also see the silver haired man smiling.

“Get me the feed on the operative inside and send it to my comms unit.” He pulled a small, slim device out of his pocket with a screen and held it up. “Then sit back and wait for my order. We need Hansen alive if it's at all possible.”

The Corporal nodded and started to walk away. He stopped and then turned back to the silver haired man.

“Sir?”

“What is it?”

“Sir, what do we do with Hopson?” he asked.

“Oh, you don’t have to be so gentle with her,” he said.

“Sir?”

“Kill her.”

*****

Hansen knew he was getting under the woman’s skin. It was a skill he had and he was good at it, but he was surprised when she turned to him.

"I'm sorry, have I offended you in some way? Because correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't believe we even know each other."

That takes balls, he thought.

Now that he’d started the game, he thought he may as well play the fish in.

“Nah, you haven’t offended me. I don’t get offended,” he said. “I just don’t like your type.”

He watched her. She was trying way too hard to ignore him and focus on her nuts and coffee.

Way too hard. The fish was hooked.

She did look good though, in a strained, 'trying to look like one of you people' way.

“And I don’t believe we know each other unless I cleaned your pool up in the hills,” he said.

You’re a mean bastard, Hansen. Why can’t you just let it go? Drink your beers and stop pulling the wings off rich bitch flies.

Why?

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Old 08-24-2011, 06:37 PM   #9
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If it hadn't been for his attitude, Emma would have found him rather attractive. But with each passing word that slipped from his mouth she was beginning to think of him as a toad. The hills?! He had to be kidding. She was sure he was doing more than cleaning pools if he was up in the hills...probably servicing rich women for extra cash. What an ass!

She let out a little snort and shook her head, slanting him an unamused look. “Do I seriously look like I'm some rich bored wife down here slumming it for the weekend? If I do, then I'm doing a better job than I thought I was! Ha!”

Actually laughing out loud, she rolled her shoulders and stretched out her arms above her head before dropping them down. Turning away, she stood and drained the rest of her coffee, ready to face the outside world again instead of shooting the breeze with some sexy...correction! Some slimy toad of a man. Lips twitching, she dug into her back pocket and fished out her cash. As the money slipped out, so did her disk, clattering the floor.

“Shit.” She mumbled and quickly retrieved the valuable piece of data, continuing to ignore his stare as she stood back up and dropped a couple of bills on the counter before shoving the disk back into her pocket. Adjusting her cap, she glanced past his face and glanced outside. Even through the dingy windows, she knew something was up. An alarm went off in her head and she blew out a long drawn out breath.

“Carl?” The big man turned and fixed his small eyes on her brilliant and wide eyed gaze. “I'll pay you double for that Irish coffee if you tell me where your back door is...or better yet, some top secret escape hatch I could use.”

Without a word he made a slight gesture with his right shoulder and turned his gaze that way too without a word. She nodded slowly and swallowed hard, dropping another bill down. “Thanks big guy. I owe you one.”

Turning on her heels, she took the disk back out, bent forward with her back to Mr. Toad and jammed the disk between her tits, secured by her bra and reached for the small blade she'd also 'borrowed' for emergencies. Oh to have a gun! She could seriously use some fire power, but didn't know if she could even stab another human, never mind shoot one. Killing didn't quite fit into her day to day life.

Feeling clammy, she slowly walked to the back of the bar, pushing through a swinging door to what she hoped was the stock room. “Please please please don't be out there.” She murmured to herself, trying to calm her racing heart.
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Old 08-24-2011, 07:43 PM   #10
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“Do I seriously look like I'm some rich bored wife down here slumming it for the weekend? If I do, then I'm doing a better job than I thought I was! Ha!”

Hansen smirked at her retort. He sighed and sat back with his beer, taking only a sip. A small sip.

He was looking in the mirror behind Carl and he could see someone pointing a comms unit at him.

Now Hansen didn’t think he was an ugly guy. Far from it. The ladies had made him aware that he had something about him that was attractive, not that he really knew what that ‘something’ was, but it was there nonetheless. However, when a strange guy is sitting twenty feet away from you pointing his comms unit at you, then he felt that it was a fair bet they weren’t recruiting him for a modelling shoot.

Something was up.

The woman seemed paranoid and she was in a rush. He looked at Carl. Carl looked towards the windows and nodded. If only all the women he’d met could be like Carl.

Muscly and hairy?

No.

Stop joking around. There’s something going on outside and the guy with the comms units isn’t even being secretive anymore. Might be time to bid adieu….


The woman was getting more fidgety. She took out the money to pay Carl and a shiny disc fell out of her pants. She quickly snatched it up and hid it.

“I'll pay you double for that Irish coffee if you tell me where your back door is...or better yet, some top secret escape hatch I could use.”

The woman wanted to go.

Quickly.

Hansen sat there, sipping his beer slowly. She didn’t acknowledge him as she got up and slowly started to walk towards the rear of the bar.

“You want some more nuts, mister?” said Carl dropping a bowl in front of him.

Hansen looked at him and then looked down at the bowl. There was a plastic explosive the size of a small battery in there amongst the nuts.

“Don’t mind if I do,” he said reaching into the bowl and palming the explosive. He popped a few nuts into his mouth and chewed slowly.

The woman was nearly at the rear swinging doors. They led to the store room and then further along to the rear entrance. It wouldn’t take the guy with the comms unit long to realise something was up because the lavatories were on the opposite side of the room and she obviously wasn’t an employee.

Hansen didn’t know if they were after him or her. He just knew this was about to get messy.

Real messy.

She started to push on the doors.

Hansen’s mind was running through the scenario. He owed her nothing, so if she was in trouble, then what the fuck did he care?

But….

They might be after him and she was just a paranoid rich bitch who’d seen some commotion and was afraid of the embarrassment of getting caught here.

He made up his mind. He put the glass of beer down hard, making sure to splash it.

“Be careful, mister,” said Carl.

She was just about through the doors.

Hansen stood up and made as if he was unsteady. He started an ungainly walk towards the door, making sure to veer about a little.

“Aww, honey, ya know I don’t mean nuffin’ by that,” he called, “alls I said was ya butt was a little big. S’all honey….”

He got to the doors and they were still swinging from the woman’s exit. He pushed through them. He could see her five metres in front of him.

He ran up behind her and grabbed her around the waist, making sure to pin her arms. He placed his other hand over her mouth. She bucked against him.

Why did he bother? I could just knock her out and get away myself.

But they might want her.

Alright, alright, I heard you.


He hated his conscience. It always seemed to be trying to get him in trouble.

Or killed.

She struggled in his clasp, but he was too strong for her. He put his mouth close to her ear and whispered.

“Now, Irish, I don’t know who the fuck you are and what the fuck you’re running from, but you have to listen to me,” he said. “I’m going to let you go, but we have to walk out that door holding hands and I want you to give me a kiss. A soft kiss so I can still look around behind you and you can look behind me. Get it? You piss me off, and you’re on your own. Either they kill you or I kill you. Understand?”

Gee, Hansen, you'll do anything for a kiss, you softie.
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Old 08-24-2011, 08:18 PM   #11
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Emma struggled to breath in her moment of panic, but as his warm breath hit the side of her sensitive neck and ear, she stilled and slowly nodded. He was going to help her? Slimy toad was going to help her? It seemed too good to be true, but she had little choice in the matter. She needed an out and quickly.

His hand moved away and she sucked in a breath, trying to calm herself. “Okay...” Glancing over at him she held his gaze for a moment and then her soft slender hand slid into his own. Small steps. She tried to look casual and mentally counted to ten before she took the lead. Stepping forward her hand gripped his tightly and she pushed open the door.

As soon as the drizzle hit her face, she swiveled on her heels and faked a soft laugh, stumbling forward and against his body. A body that was a lot more solid than she had originally thought it would be. Full soft breasts cushioned against his chest as she moved in, her eyes open and acutely aware of their surroundings as their lips met.

The jolt of pleasure wasn't expected either and for a split second she fought the urge to close her eyes and explore it, but quickly shoved it aside. This was was NO time to get all gaga over a man who moments ago was rubbing her in all the wrong ways. Special forces were guarding the end of the alleyway behind him. Tucking her face close, she breathed against his ear. “Two special forces behind you, blocking the alleyway.”

She made a show of nuzzling his neck, unable to prevent from inhaling his scent as she slid her free hand over his back in a mock hug. “I don't know how, but if there is anyway to get me out of here, please help me. I know you don't know me from Adam, but trust me when I tell you this, if they catch me I'm dead and so are a lot of other people.”
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Old 08-24-2011, 09:29 PM   #12
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He took his hand from her mouth, but kept his other arm around her arms and body.

Just in case.

“Okay...,” she said.

He relaxed his grip and she’d wordlessly taken his hand. Her hand was small in his. In fact, she was small, period. Granted, she was attractive, but good looks weren’t going to get them out of this.

She’d turned towards the door at the end of the small corridor and led him through it onto the alley. It was still drizzling outside. Everything was shiny and it took his eyes a few seconds to adjust.

She laughed softly and turned to press her body against his. She raised her head towards his and he had to tilt down so that their lips could meet. She was a good actress and put on a good show. He was aware of her body pressing into his, especially her breasts.

Another time, Irish, and this would’ve been fun.

She pressed her head to the side of his face, her warm breath on his ear. She had a faint scent of whisky from her coffee. Her lips brushed his ear.

Really fun….

His mind was brought back.

“Two special forces behind you, blocking the alleyway,” she whispered.

He moved his head slightly to acknowledge her observation. There was a car at the end to which he was looking at, but he couldn’t tell how many SPF’s there were attached to it.

Two minimum, four maximum.

He knew there would be others guarding the front as well, so reinforcements were nearby.

He felt her slide her hand up his back in the act of an embrace.

She really is a good actress, he thought.

He had the plastic explosive in his pocket and he had the Glock. He hadn’t reloaded it since his adventure with Fat Fuck, so it meant he only had three rounds.

Good idea, Hansen. So desperate to get a drink that you don’t bother to get more ammo.

They stood there in an embrace. He was struggling to keep his side of the bargain and make it look realistic. He pressed her more closely and she began nuzzling his neck.

It doesn’t look good, Hansen. Maybe you should have left the girl.

“I don't know how, but if there is anyway to get me out of here, please help me. I know you don't know me from Adam, but trust me when I tell you this, if they catch me I'm dead and so are a lot of other people,” she said.

She kept her head in the crook of his neck and kissed him there, her arms still around him.

Or maybe not. He couldn’t leave her.

And she felt so warm….

He moved his head again slightly, so that his mouth was just touching her ear and he made a show of kissing it gently.

“Look, down the front of my pants I have a gun,” he said. “Don’t take it personally, I am happy to see you, but that really is a gun.”

He paused.

Always with the jokes, Hansen. Plenty of time for that later.

“I don’t know if you can use a gun, but it’s a Glock. It’s old by your standards, but it’s reliable. I only have three shots in it from a…um, er…. previous job tonight.”

He kept kissing her ear. It felt good.

“I took the safety off before we got out here. I’ve pulled the rack so it’s cocked, if you’ll pardon the expression.” He smirked, but there was no one to see it. “Before we part, I want you to put your hands down the front of my pants, pull it out and shove it down the front of yours.”

He paused again.

“It’ll just look like you’re copping a feel,” he said. “You know how to do that don’t you? I'll stay pressed close to you to shield what you're doing.”

He laughed lightly and kept his mouth close to her ear, interspersed with some kisses. He had his hand lightly pulling her head closer. He was sure now it would look realistic.

“Do you reckon you can do that for me, Irish?” he asked. “Once you’ve got it, I’ll tell you what we do next. If we get out of this, I promise you won’t have to put your hands down there again. Ok?”

He gave her a squeeze and hoped she’d get the hint and grab the gun.

"I promise," he said. "I'm good. I haven't been killed once so far."

First kisses, now fondling. You really are shameless, Hansen.
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Old 08-24-2011, 10:02 PM   #13
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She'd sort of expected him to run after she begged him for a little help, but somehow the toad was slowly turning into Prince Charming. Okay, so maybe not that perfect and she doubted there would be a happily ever after, but at least he had a soul!

“Look, down the front of my pants I have a gun,” he said. “Don’t take it personally, I am happy to see you, but that really is a gun.”

Her lips twitched, he was a bigger smartass than she was and she sort of liked that.

“I don’t know if you can use a gun, but it’s a Glock. It’s old by your standards, but it’s reliable. I only have three shots in it from a…um, er…. previous job tonight.”

The soft kisses to her ear made her shiver and she bit on her lower lip to stop herself from gasping out loud. His lips felt so good...warm and surprisingly silky. As distracting as they were, she did her best to listen. She'd never shot a gun in her life, but then again, she'd never been on the run either, slummed in in the streets or put anyone else's life in jeopardy.

Hands in his pants?! For a moment she wondered what sort of crap he was pulling, but he seemed dead serious. “You know how to do that don’t you? I'll stay pressed close to you to shield what you're doing.”

“I d-do.” She stammered , earning her a light laugh and then his mouth was on her skin again and he was pulling her closer. Oh god! She hoped he wasn't full of shit and trying to be all bad and impressive, getting them both killed in process. “I'll do it...just don't get us killed, please.” She whispered back, tilting her head to 'nibble' on his earlobe, only the nibble was more of a bite before she kissed it better for him.

With him squeezing her close, she let out a soft moan and ducked her head against, kissing his neck and breathing nervously, her soft breaths puffing against his bare skin as she slide her hands over his hard abs and pushed them into his pants, feeling the cool metal of his gun almost instantly.

Carefully she pulled it out and slid it down her own pants as casually as possible. “I got it.” She breathed, “Nice gun by the way.” She added, trying to ease the tension in her own mind. “It's big.”
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Old 08-24-2011, 11:44 PM   #14
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She whispered in his ear, her soft lips rubbing against it.

“I'll do it...just don't get us killed, please.”

Then she bit his ear lightly and soothed it with a kiss.

Irish just fucking bit me.

“Hey, none of that talk,” he whispered back. “Didn’t I just say I’ve never been killed before? I don’t intend to make this the first time. You just have to trust me.”

He kept holding her tight. It must feel terrifying for her to be in this situation with a total stranger.

So fucking what?

That's better, Hansen.

The rain was getting heavier and they were getting soaked. They would have to make a move soon.

“Now, are you going to get that gun out, or do I have to buy you dinner and a movie first?” he said, pretending to sound exasperated.

He kept holding her close, her head nuzzled to his neck. She kept kissing him and slid her hand under his shirt and over the waist of his jeans. She had gone in a little to the right so she had to slide her hand back across towards the gun. Her hand felt cool and smooth on his body.

Shit, just get the gun. If you keep this up, I’ll have to try and think with a boner.

He felt the gun slide out of his pants.

At least there’s more room for me down there.

“I got it. Nice gun by the way.” she added. “It's big.”

Shit. Another smartass. Great.

He pulled her closer and lowered his lips to her ear again.

“Nice one, Irish. Keep joking like that and you’ll stay loose. If we get out of this, I’ll make sure to shoot you with my big gun,” he said. “We better do something or they’ll start to get suspicious.”

He paused.

“Oh, and I don’t mean that,” he added quickly.

He loosened his grip on her a little and stood beside her with his arm around her neck.

“The guy watching us inside saw me stagger out pretending to be drunk. I drink enough to have had a lot of practice at it so I’m sure I convinced him. That means they won’t be surprised when we start to stagger with my arm around you. You pretend like you’re trying to hold me up and you can make all sorts of disparaging remarks if you like.”

He smiled at her.

Hansen? Disparaging? Who are you trying to impress?

“You can’t see it yet, but about 15 metres down in my direction, there’s a doorway. I drink here a lot, I know it's there. The door is flimsy. If we can get to within five metres of it I think I can smash it down with one hit.”

He looked across at her.

“Do you think we can do that?” he asked. “I know it sounds a little short-term, but I’ll work out what to do once we’re in there. But we have to get moving. They won’t sit there all night.”

He pretended to stagger a little bit and the hand not around her neck flew over and touched her breast.

“Shit, sorry, Irish,” he said.

The started to walk very slowly in the direction of the doorway.

“S’all I was sayin’,” he shouted. “I always loved ya. She meant nuffin’ to me.”

Ten metres to go.

“By the way, Irish,” he said. “If we’re going to be so close for a while, what’s your name?”
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Old 08-25-2011, 08:53 AM   #15
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So much for keeping warm and dry. As the rain picked up, she could feel it seep through her baseball cap, wetting her hair, dribbling down the sides of the brim and trickling down the back of her parker. She couldn't stand the feeling of wet clothes clinging to her skin, but the longer she stood with him, the more soaked they were both getting.

When he loosened his hold, she caught his arm and gasped audibly when he accidentally grabbed her breast. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him, but he shot her the most charming of grins. Leaning into his side she made a show of trying to keep him steady as his bigger body continued to stagger and sway, his voice booming down the alley and bouncing off the walls.

“This is what happens when you drink too much!” She chided a little louder, “You stick your dick in places it shouldn't be stuck.”

She felt his weight give a little, making her stagger as well as she wound an arm around his lean waist, her fingers gripping the side of his shirt and unwittingly bunching up the material, her skin rubbing up against his own. Her heart was pounding her ears. “I don't know why I came to help you...you know you break my heart when you call and you act like this.”

She huffed and sniffed, “I hope it burns when you pee.”

Had she just said that. Gawwwwd! At least he held his own and didn't laugh, although by the garbled sound he made, she was sure he'd maybe at least choked a little. Please let this plan work, please let this plan work. She thought to herself.

5 meters to go and she sighed softly, “It's Emma...my name is Emma. What's yours?”

“Jesus!” She suddenly exclaimed, “You weigh a freakin' ton!”

One of the men took a step forward and yelled, "Hey!"

Emma stiffened against him and gripped his shirt into a death grip.
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Old 08-25-2011, 08:14 PM   #16
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She was good. They staggered towards the doorway, and she carried on exactly like a trash talking woman would when they found out ole’ Bobby Lee had been screwin’ around.

“This is what happens when you drink too much!” she said loudly. “You stick your dick in places it shouldn't be stuck…. I hope it burns when you pee.”

He coughed in surprise.

Geez, a bit harsh. She didn’t have to be that good an actress….

“Awww, honey bunsszzsh…..’” he slurred.

They were nearly there, but he wanted to be in the best position in case he needed a few extra seconds. He didn’t really know if he could smash the door on his first attempt, but there was no need to let her know.

She turned her head towards him.

“It's Emma...my name is Emma. What's yours?” she whispered. She really was attractive. She was soaked with rain and wet strands of her hair hung lank down the back of her neck. Sans makeup, soaked, in the dark and she still looked good. It made it easy for him to want to protect her.

At least for now.

A superficial bastard are you, Hansen.


He didn’t get a chance to tell her his name. One of the SPF’s took a step towards them and called.

“Hey.”

Emma pressed into him closely and grabbed his shirt.

Fuck. Here goes.

“Whaddya want, copper?” he yelled up the alley towards the man. He was dressed in black combat gear and had a helmet over his head. The three other men with him all looked the same.

Quadruplets come to kill.

Him.

Her.

It didn’t matter.

Kill.


He was leaning into her with his right arm around her shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Irish,” he whispered, “but I’m going to stick my left hand down your pants on the count of three. You need to turn a little to make it easy for me.”

He paused.

“I promise I’ll buy you dinner later,” he said very quietly.

Her hand loosened slightly on his shirt and he started to sway across her body to hide the fact he was going for the gun. He pressed his hand to her belly and left it there.

“Fuckin’ cop bastards,” he yelled, “can’t even have a good time with your girlfriend….”

He pretended to be falling. His hand slid down the front of her jeans and pulled out the gun, keeping his eyes on the front guy. He wouldn’t get through the helmet, but his suit would do him no good. Hansen had Gooby bullets. From China. He wasn’t a patriot when it came to personal safety. He didn’t care what he used.

Or where it came from.

Just do it.

Now.

He shoved Emma hard into the doorway and heard her crack against the door. The force against her gave him the momentum to push sideways and roll in the other direction, watching the cops. Their eyes didn’t know who to follow: Emma or Hansen. Their heads turned to the doorway because Emma had disappeared into it.

Dumb fucks.

He turned on one knee and put a bullet in the front cop’s knee.

Two bullets left.

Fuck.

As the cop went down, his men were distracted for a moment and he dove for the doorway. He landed right on Emma, but tried to take some of the sting out of his landing by placing his hands on either side of her before collapsing. She seemed ok, if dazed.

“Close your fucking eyes,” he yelled at her. No time for niceties. He didn’t have time to smash the door, so he shot the lock.

The sound at such close quarters nearly deafened him, but the door swung open.

One bullet.

Fuck.

Fuck

Fuck.


There was no gentleness. He grabbed Emma by the waist of her jeans, hoisted her up in one motion and threw her onto his shoulder.

He smashed through the door and ran into a large open space. There was a door at the other end. He couldn’t hear the cops and he realised that they hadn’t fired.

Yet.

Get to the door.

“By the way, Emma, I’m Liam,” he said bouncing with her on his shoulder as he tried to make it across the open space towards the other door. “Enjoying our first date?”

I just hope it’s not our last.
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Old 08-25-2011, 09:28 PM   #17
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Emma's mind was reeling, trying to grasp all that was going on. Still trying to gain her barings, she squeaked in alarm as he not too gently hoisted her up and then knocked the breath out of her. With a soft grunt, she balance on his shoulder, her hands shoot down to grip the back of his shirt. She lost the hat, her long wet hair tumbling over her head and blocking her vision. All she could see was his ass and what an ass it was. But it was no time for ass staring, she was sure of it.

”By the way, Emma, I’m Liam.”

She managed to get out a soft 'uh huh' as he bounced her on his shoulder, surprised that he was able to carry her so easily while sprinting ahead. Where was he going?!

”Enjoying our first date?”

She laughed breathlessly at that. “I'm not bored.” That earned her a true chuckle and strangely enough it warmed her. Unfortunately all too soon, she heard the shout of the men. Heavy foot falls echoed in the empty building, the jingle and clanking of equipment as they charged in.

“I think we have company!! Put me down, I can run!!”

The world spun and then she was being lowered. Her feet hit the ground as she tossed her head back and pushed her hair away. Liam seemed to instantly have a hold of her wrist, pulling her along. She willed her legs to move took off with him. “Tell me you have a plan!” She pleaded as shouts grew louder behind.

“STOP! FREEZE!” came a loud command, both of them ignoring the yells as they focused on the door, getting to the door. To her dismay their outlet burst and more special forces came running in, armed with intent to kill.
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Old 08-25-2011, 11:32 PM   #18
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“I'm not bored,” she said.

He couldn’t help laughing, even though he could hear the cops behind them.

“I think we have company!! Put me down, I can run!!”

Hansen flipped her from his shoulder and she landed on her feet. He still had his gun in one hand and he grabbed her wrist with the other and pulled her along.

“Tell me you have a plan!” she exclaimed. She sounded nervous. He couldn’t blame her.

I’d be nervous too.

He smirked to himself.

If I wasn’t so good.

They weren’t far from the door, but the footfalls behind then indicated that the cops had entered the building.

“STOP! FREEZE!” came the command from behind them.

Hansen dragged Emma along with him for a couple more steps, but then the door in front of them burst open and four SPF’s came through it with weapons raised.

Fuck.

He pulled up and Emma bumped into the back of him.

“Shit,” he said loudly to the one who appeared to be in charge. Hansen had a grin on his face and continued talking to him. “Lucky you guys are here. This bitch nearly got away from me.”

He pushed Emma away roughly so that she was in front of him. He looked directly into her eyes for a few moments, and then looked sideways. Three SPF’s had followed them in and there were four in front of him.

Seven cops.

One bullet.

Fuck.


“What’s the reward?” he asked. “And remember guys, I got her first,” he said with a wink.

Please, Emma, understand what I’m trying to do, he thought, because even I don’t know. I just need to buy time.

“Step away from the girl, Hansen,” said the lead guy. “Now, and do it slowly.”

Hansen started to move his arms. He heard their weapons cock.

“And drop the gun.”

He’d forgotten about the gun. He made a show of very slowly placing the gun down on the floor while running his left hand up his leg, his fingers dipping into the pocket of his jeans and extracting the explosive that Carl had thoughtfully provided.

He looked at Emma as he got rid of the gun, his eyes staring straight into hers. He blinked and then kept looking straight at her. He knew it wasn’t his fault, but he felt apologetic all the same.

You’ve got brown eyes, Irish, er, I mean Emma. I hope I get a chance to look more closely.

He raised himself up from his bent over position and turned to look at the cop. He ran his hand through his short hair and tried to smile.

Think of a fucking plan.

“This must be a mistake. You see, I was supposed to catch this bitch and then claim the reward,” he said waving his hand towards her. “Now you guys are trying to muscle in. That’s not fair. Plus, I was just about to give her a quick one, if you know what I mean.”

He winked at the cop. “No reason you can’t mix business with pleasure, I say.”

What’s your plan?

“Hansen, we don’t want the girl any more than you do. We want you,” said the cop. “Now step away from her.”

There was only one reason they would want Hansen and the girl separated. They were going to kill one of them, but wanted the other alive and didn’t want them in the line of fire.

Which one?

What do you fucking care, as long as it’s not you.

“Yeah, well I don’t think the fucking reward was worth it anyway,” he said and turned toward the door they’d come in. “Keep the fucking bitch, but I’m going to complain to your superiors. This is fucked. I did all the work.”

He started to walk.

“Stop!”

Hansen turned around and folded his arms.

“What?” he said, standing with his arms folded. “You want me to arrest her for you as well. You can’t fucking do that yourself?”

Emma was just standing there, looking at him. He didn’t know what she made of all this, but he hoped she understood he was buying time, to think up a plan.

That I don’t have.

Think.


All the guns were pointed at them. There was nothing he could think of that they could do.

The lead guy walked a little closer to him. He took another smaller gun out of his holster.

He pointed it straight at Hansen’s head.

Sorry, Emma. Sorry, me.

He stared straight at the cop’s black helmet.

The cop pulled the trigger and a jolt went through him. It felt like a rock had hit him on the side of his neck, but he was unhurt besides a sting.

Fuck! What the fuck was that?

“That’s a restraint device, Hansen,” said the cop. “If you get more than fifty metres away from me, you’re dead. Your head will blow off, not that it would be much of a loss. Consider yourself warned.”

At least now, though, Hansen knew something. They wanted him alive. That meant they wanted the girl dead. He watched as the soldier walked up to Emma and pointed the gun at her. Then he shot her with whatever the fuck it was.

“If either of you move further than fifty metres away from me or each other, then you’re dead.”

Hansen looked at Emma.

Brown-eyed Emma.

He looked up and pretended to sigh.

At last. I have a plan, Emma, he thought, just hang on.

In the row of windows above them, he saw a shadow. It was a big shadow. The shadow moved across till it was between the two sets of SPF units that had them hemmed in. There was something in the shadow’s hands. A gun.

A motherfucking big gun.

He grabbed the explosive in his hand more tightly and looked at Emma. A slight smirk crossed his face.

Good old Carl.
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Old 08-26-2011, 07:15 AM   #19
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If he hadn't been for that wink, Emma could have reached down and clobbered him. She already felt sick and panicky inside, unsure if she wanted to start screaming hysterically or throw up. Either one didn't seem very brave, so she swallowed the bile that rose in her throat and clenched down on her teeth. If she died, everything died with her. A hope for a cure would be gone, more innocent people dead. The thought made her eyes sting with unshed tears. How could she have been so stupid, so gullible! 10 fucking hears of her life gone and nothing to show for it but a decent place to lay her head and food in her belly. No great love, no kids, not even a real life. God she was pathetic!

Liam's voice broke through her thoughts and strangely enough, soothed down her growing fears.

“What’s the reward?” he asked. “And remember guys, I got her first.”

The men in black weren't buying his little charade. This couldn't be good, but Liam didn't seem to be giving up so easily.

Weapons cocked and her spine stiffened, her fists clenching. She watched him move, unable to keep her eyes on them. Instead she watched him following orders, his gaze locking with her own. She just wished she could read his mind. All too quickly he broke contact and began to bullshit again.

“This must be a mistake. You see, I was supposed to catch this bitch and then claim the reward,” he said waving his hand towards her. “Now you guys are trying to muscle in. That’s not fair. Plus, I was just about to give her a quick one, if you know what I mean. No reason you can’t mix business with pleasure, I say.”

“Hansen, we don’t want the girl any more than you do. We want you,” said the cop. “Now step away from her.”

She heard him droning on, talking in circles she was sure. He didn't have a plan, did he? He was just buying time and then the unthinkable happened. The cop raised a gun to Liam's head and everything inside her shuddered with dread. She let out a small scream of panic, smothering her mouth with her hands as he pulled the trigger. Sweat broke out on her forehead and her eyes squeezed shut, unable to watch, but when the cop began to talk again, she opened them. He was alive!

“That’s a restraint device, Hansen,” said the cop. “If you get more than fifty metres away from me, you’re dead. Your head will blow off, not that it would be much of a loss. Consider yourself warned.”

She stood stock still as the cop reached her and pointed the gun, trying not to cringe or flinch, but squeezing her eyes tightly shut. However the shot did make her flinch. But why hadn't they just killed her? What were they going to do?

“If either of you move further than fifty meters away from me or each other, then you’re dead.”

Looking over at Liam, she watched the wheels in his brain turning. She could tell he was up to something, and thought BINGO! as he slanted her a smirk. All hell was going to break loose. Her body tightened again, ready for the fight or in her case, the flight. After all, they were now literally stuck together.
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Old 08-28-2011, 05:10 PM   #20
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“I’m telling you,” Hansen yelled, “If I don’t share in the reward money, then you fuckers will be answering to your boss.”

The lead cop walked over to him.

“You can stop the game, fuckwit. We’re taking you and the girl away,” he said. He turned around to his men. “Take them outside. If they do anything, shoot the girl. To kill.”

Hansen rolled his eyes as if he was exasperated. The shadow had gone. He needed to buy time. He didn’t know which way Carl was going to come in.

Shit. Ten years ago he would have come in from the roof. Too fat now.

Stop joking. This is fucking serious.


What did he know? Their orders were to bring him in alive. It wouldn’t mean they wouldn’t kill him if they had to, but it would make them hesitate. That would give him an advantage.

What didn’t he know? Why did they want Emma? Why was she expendable?

Twenty questions might be better left for later, Hansen, you have the small problem of seven SPF’s with serious artillery pointed at you.


Hansen started to sing.

“I’ve got you, under my skin….”

The lead SPF walked towards him with the gun pointed at him.

“Shut the fuck up, Hansen or I swear I’ll shoot you right now. Fuck orders.”

“….I’ve got you, deep….”

“Shut.. The.. Fuck.. Up.. I will put a bullet in your head you fucking piece of shit.”

Hansen looked at him.

“There are ladies here, mate,” he said. “Take it easy.”

“Not for long there won’t be,” said the SPF.

“See, that’s why you’re angry at me,” he said. “You have to sit around and take orders from dumbasses who get paid ten times what you do. And then you get to rough up innocent civilians, including women. You're a real tough boy,” he winked, “no wonder you’re angry. I always thought it was your little dick.”

The SPF was blew out a loud breath under his helmet, but decided to back out of the banter.

Hansen had bought a few minutes, but where the fuck was Carl? He saw the cops behind Emma move towards her and he felt the prod of a gun barrel in his back.

Where are you, Carl?

A deafening explosion rocked the building. It had come from the pub. All the soldiers dropped to their knees and pointed their guns at the two entrances. Hansen didn’t need an invitation. He pressed the small button on his explosive and let it fall from his hands. Then he sprinted towards Emma at full pace and tackled her. He heard her let out a surprised wail as he knocked the air from her lungs. They flew five metres and he landed on top of her on the hard floor of the warehouse.

“We really have to stop jumping each other in public,” he said to her and pressed himself tightly over her.

The bomb went off and then Hansen heard the familiar rat-a-tat-tat of a machine gun, but it wasn’t the SPF’s, it was Carl, his silhouette taking up most of the doorway. He looked behind him. Most of the SPF’s were down, but in the dust and smoke he could see the leader getting up and turning towards them.

He reached down between their bodies and shoved his hand down the front of Emma’s pants.

Shit. He’d had the gun before they entered the warehouse. It was on the floor about ten metres away and he couldn’t reach it….

“Sorry,” he said to her, “I guess I’m just a lecherous old bastard.”

He started to get up off her, but the SPF was up and pointing the gun at him.

“You fucker,” he said through his helmet, “You’re not going to get away this time, orders or no orders.”

His finger started to pull on the trigger when another rat-a-tat-tat sounded out. The cop sunk to his knees and fell down helmet first into the floor and lay still. Standing a few metres behind him was Carl with the machine gun. He picked up Hansen’s gun from the floor and threw it to him.

“It’s only got one round left,” he said as he caught it.

“Never fear,” said Carl who then tossed him a couple of cartridges.

“Nice work. How did you know?” asked Hansen.

“I was watching the operative in the bar longer than you were,” he said and rolled his eyes. “When you left, I got him and stuck explosives down his pants and told him to walk outside or I’d blow him up.”

“Shit,” said Hansen. “We heard the explosion. What happened?”

“Well,” said Carl with an expressionless face, “I let him get outside close to his mates, then I blew him up.”

Hansen smiled. Emma was picking herself up off the floor slowly. She looked battered, but at least she was intact.

“Sorry about that,” he said to her. “Next time I shove my hand down your pants without asking, I really do have to make sure there is a gun in there. I guess now I really owe you dinner.”

“I don’t want to cramp your style, Liam, but, maybe we can keep the courting for later,” said Carl. “What do we do now?”

“Oh, let me think about that,” said Hansen. “Oh, yeah. Run. And fast.”

Carl rolled his eyes.

“Great plan,” he said. “Lucky I’m in such good shape.”

Hansen laughed, grabbed Emma’s arm and they made their way to the exit.

“Woops,” yelled Carl, “Don’t forget this.” He reached into the leader's uniform pocket and pulled out a small unit the size of a battery.

“What’s that?” asked Hansen.

“It’s the main transponder for the restraint device. If you and your lady friend get more than fifty metres away from it or each other, then boom, no more heads.”

“Fuck me,” he said, catching the unit Carl threw to him.

When they got to the exit, Carl stopped and spoke to them.

“I’ll go towards the river, you head into town. That way they should split up, leaving us with only half the cops to cope with each.”

Hansen nodded. He had pressed Emma close to him and could feel her heart beating.

Good. At least you’re ready for action.

“Thanks, Carl,” he said. “I owe you.”

“Nothing. If you need to talk, get me through Bonnie O’Reilly. Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Carl turned left out of the doorway and Hansen pushed Emma to the right.

Just as they were about ten metres apart, Carl yelled out.

“Hey.”

They looked around.

“What?” asked Hansen.

“Next time, I’m thinking the lady shouldn’t order Irish Coffee in a beat up dive. Doesn’t really keep a cover too well.”

Hansen laughed.

Then Carl turned and started running again.

Hansen tightened his grip on Emma’s wrist, turned and winked at her.

“Thank God we have some privacy again, Irish.”

They started to run down the alley toward the centre of the city.


****

The silver haired man sat in his armoured car. He watched the operative walk slowly out of the bar towards the SPF’s standing outside. They gathered around him and he was pointing at his pants.

His jaw tightened. This didn’t seem right.

Suddenly, the operative and the SPF's disappeared in a blinding flash and his car rocked, followed by a thunderous boom.

He waited a few seconds to regain his composure and yelled at the driver of the car.

“Where the fuck is Gray? Has he got back to you?”

“No, sir,” said the driver. “His comms unit isn’t responding. There should have been eight men in the alley behind the bar, sir. Surely they will have handled Hansen and the girl?”

The silver haired man pursed his lips and let a long breath of air through his nostrils.

“Never bet against Hansen,” he said. “Now call HQ and tell them to get every fucking available unit out here.”

He sat back in the seat and watched the carnage outside.

Next time I kill him.

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Old 08-28-2011, 06:42 PM   #21
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Once again Emma wasn't sure what to think and where to turn, but Liam seemed to have everything under control. He thrived on chaos and challenges, teasing her with his smiles, winks and witty banter. But she had to give him credit, he had gotten her out alive. She wanted to thank Carl as well. The big man sure knew how to move and she promised herself that next time she saw him, she would definitely have to squeeze him tight and give him an extra big tip for his troubles.

Running along side Liam proved to be a challenge. His legs were longer, he was stronger and definitely more fit. While she wasn't quite soft, she was also used the softer side of life, using her brain more than her body when it came day to day life. “Remind me to lay off the pretzels before we start running marathons!” She breathed.

Hands locked together, she had no choice but to keep up until her legs and lungs were burning. The rain began again and she groaned, sucking in breath after breath. Reaching her free hand to the front of her shirt, pressing it between her breasts to feel the disk. It was still there, crammed between the lush fullness of her breast and protection of her bra.

“What's the plan?” She wheezed out, sorely wishing now that she had thought things out a little better. Saving the world didn't hadn't seemed so dangerous and complicated at the time.

His abrupt stop made her collide into the back of his body with a loud grunt and then she was being tugged into a darkened doorway, his body crowding hers again. She clutched at his shirt, panting from excursion, her legs trembling with fatigue. “Seems like we're stuck together for a while, Liam. But, I think maybe we need to establish some personal boundaries here.” She teased softly, her voice just above a whisper. “If I had know the nerdy scientific type turned you on so much, I would have been more prepared.”

Trying to control her heart rate, she dropped her head back against the cold steel he had her pressed against and tried to think of anything but her pending death. “Please tell me we can find a spot to think without running. I know people, but I don't want them involved. Friends and family are out and so are most of my co-workers. My place is a no go for obvious reasons. Damn it...” She sucked in another breath, blinking back tears of frustration and swallowing hard, “Sorry, I'm good. I won't blubber all over you.”
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Old 08-28-2011, 07:28 PM   #22
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Emma was trying her best to keep up with him, but no one could have kept up with him the way he was running. He could hear her breathing becoming heavier and he was having to drag her along.

Better stop for a tick or she'll blow up.

“Remind me to lay off the pretzels before we start running marathons!” she said.

“Well that counts out dinner then,” he said, still running.

The rain had started again so they had to be careful not to slip. The streets were quiet seeing it was wet and late. They hadn’t come across any more cops, but he could hear the sirens. They were well away from the scene and there would be confusion at least for a while. This gave them the chance to get well away.

“What's the plan?” she said raggedly. She hardly got it out. Hansen knew they’d have to stop, if only for a minute.

He stopped in front of a doorway and she crashed into him.

“Hey, it’s only fifty metres we have to keep to,” he said looking at her. Then he smiled. “Not that I mind….”

They stood in the doorway and she hung onto him, getting her breath back.

“Seems like we're stuck together for a while, Liam. But, I think maybe we need to establish some personal boundaries here.” He could tell she was joking.

Good. We’ll get on.

“If I had known the nerdy scientific type turned you on so much, I would have been more prepared,” she said.

"Shit, if I'd known you were the nerdy scientific type, then I would have asked you what the plan was."

He held her lightly by the shoulders while she regained her breath. She was worried.

Who wouldn’t be? But most people didn’t have Liam Hansen looking after them.

Her eyes started to well up and she looked like she was going to cry. It was all starting to hit her now.

“Sorry, I'm good. I won't blubber all over you.”

Shit. Don’t cry.

“Hey. We got out of that and we’ll get out of this,” he said. “I hate crying ok, it uses up valuable energy, so stop it,” he said trying to sound like he didn’t care, but he didn’t feel like he was very convincing. She looked….

….lost.

“My place isn’t so far from here. We’ll go there and then we can rest up and think about what to do,” he said. He kept looking at her. “And, I reckon if I’m going to keep acting like Don Quixote, then you owe me an explanation. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

She looked at him as if she didn’t believe him.

“Don’t worry. My place is safe. No one knows about it,” he said.

He winked at her.

“I better correct myself. It’s safe from the SPF’s, but you’ll still have to contend with me!”

He took her hand, squeezed it and started to move out of the doorway.

“Ready for the second heat?” he said.

He pulled her and started to run.

Again.

"By the way," he said over his shoulder to her and smiling, "We haven't discussed the pay for this job."
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Old 08-28-2011, 08:05 PM   #23
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He was being sweet and she appreciated that. Even if he was trying to sound all rough and tough, by the look on his face she could tell that he wasn't quite accomplishing the task. She smiled slightly, not quite believing that she could be lucky enough to find a dry spot for the night or even a couple of hours. If she had to pick between SPF and him, right now he won hands down, but she wouldn't admit that to him. At least not yet.

“Ready for the second heat?”

Before she had a chance to respond, he was tugging her out into the street again. She groaned, pushing her body to keep up with his. “I don't believe you were really giving me a choice! I'm not sure that I'm up for paying you if these services continue to keep me cold and wet.”

He let out a chuckle, flashing her a grin. “How about warm and wet?”

This instantly brought color to her face. “Smartass.” But that was enough to keep her moving. As they reached the dimly lit streets, he slowed slightly. “Oh thank god.” She sighed as they slowed to walk and he tugged her close to his side. Still holding hands, most would have taken them for random lovers, even if it was a bit strange that they were both drenched and still walking in the poring rain.

Her feet were screaming and legs crying for a break by the time she pushed her through a rotting abandoned building in the midst of an area she wouldn't have dream of venturing through alone or at all for that matter. Huddled close to his side, she gave him a bewildered look. “Please tell me this isn't home sweet home.”

“Ye have little faith, Irish.” He muttered, tugging her over broken glass and god knows what else hidden by the darkness. Something flickered, making her blink and focus on his free hand. A lighter. Great. By the flickering flame, he pulled her through several crumbling sections, before reaching a heavy steel door that was heavily decorated with graffiti.

Letting go, she watched him muscle the door open, usher her inside and down the first few steps. Soon he joined her, shutting it behind before flicking on an overhead light. The light buzzed, flickered and complained a moment before shedding light on their situation. “Interesting digs.” She murmured softly as he secured the door and the lead the way down the narrow stairwell to what she could only describe as an underground lair.

It seem like the greatest of plans to lock himself down under ground, what if SPF found it? How did he get out? The explosion earlier made her smile to herself. Probably blow his way out. She bit back a small laugh, too tired to fire off any more questions. It wasn't the swanky by any means, but she had to hand it to the guy, it was fairly clean and functional. It was one large room flanked with cabinets, all of which seemed to have the same steely gray color. Weapons decorated the wall above the large unmade bed and on the far end, she spotted what looked like a small kitchenette area, some of the counter space used as a makeshift desk and a small blocked off gray box which she could only assume was the bathroom. It looked a little on the spartan side, but she wouldn't have expected anything more from him.

For a moment her eyes shifted to his back as he slowly stripped off his wet shirt and plopped in unceremoniously on the floor. “Hey, I'm not picking up your dirty socks.” She teased and looked away, sitting her button the edge of a step to removed her sopping wet sneakers.
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Old 08-28-2011, 08:36 PM   #24
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Hansen felt better with his shirt off. He went to the wall, flicked the switch and a fan began to whir in the ceiling.

“What?” he said, “You don’t do laundry?”

He saw her looking up at the ceiling. He was sure she was thinking that not many people had heaters in this part of town.

“It’s hooked up to the gas line. I tapped it in a few years ago. So it’s free,” he smiled.

He went to one of the cupboards and pulled out two towels. She was sitting down on the entrance steps, removing her wet shoes. He threw her one and then started to dry himself down. His jeans were wet too. There was nothing he could do about that, but remove them,. He pulled them off and threw them down next to his shirt and continued to wipe himself down.

He went to another cupboard and pulled out a black t shirt, a fresh pair of jeans and underwear.

Well, here goes, he thought.

He turned around next to the kitchen bench to preserve what modesty he could and pulled his underwear off. He gave himself a quick wipe and then put on the dry pair of jocks.

He saw her looking at him when he turned around.

“Hey, Irish, don’t tell me you’ve never seen that before,” he said. He paused for a while and then the side of his mouth crooked up in a smile. “Oh, you’ve seen it before, but you’ve never seen it this good before.”

He laughed. He enjoyed teasing her and making her feel uncomfortable.

Maybe I can get used to people again.

“Anyway, you want something to eat or drink? I’m having a beer and I’m happy to make you a sandwich,” he said. “Just a little one for you. Don’t want you getting fat and not being able to run.” He winked.

He looked her over on the step. She really was beautiful in a natural way. Smart and beautiful.

Maybe I could really get used to people again....

“Sorry,” he said, “but as surprising as it may sound, I don’t get much female company here. You’re free to borrow one of my t shirts and we’ll hang your clothes under the heater. They should dry in a few hours.”

He went to the fridge and pulled out two beers. He threw one to her. He hadn’t even put on his t shirt and jeans yet and he was enjoying her looking at him.

He went to the cupboard, pulled out the largest t shirt he had and threw it to her as well.

He had a big grin on his face.

“You can change in the bathroom, but it's a bit tight. When you’re ready, let me know and I’ll turn around. But be warned, I’m not entirely trustworthy.”

He started laughing.
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Old 08-28-2011, 09:20 PM   #25
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“What?” he said, “You don’t do laundry?”

“I do, just not yours.” She said, poking out her tongue as she peeled off her socks and then glanced up at the ceiling. The warmth that flooded the room made her sigh. It felt so good, she wanted to strip herself and just stand under it, but that would have definitely giving him ideas. That that she considered herself that much to look at.

When her gaze moved back down, she seemed caught in the site of his naked body. Even though the important bits were covered, more or less, for a moment he stole her breath and she stared, mouth slightly agape.

“Hey, Irish, don’t tell me you’ve never seen that before.”
His voice cut through her thoughts and she flushed brightly. “Oh, you’ve seen it before, but you’ve never seen it this good before.”

She giggled nervously and quickly snapped her gaze away, standing and standing awkwardly in his space, his domain and creating a little puddle on his floor. When he mentioned food, she almost drooled on herself, taking his banter with a grain of salt and a smile. “But don't you know, I like'em big.” She told him, surprised at herself once again. Her face heated again at her own naughty little joke, catching the beer he threw her way and then the shirt that hit her square in the face.

Taking her drink to the kitchen, she set it aside, watching him move around her as he began to prep a couple of sandwiches. “Um...I hate to keep taking advantage of your hospitality, but...I don't suppose I could use your shower for just a minute? It has been a few days and well...”

“Knock yourself out, Irish. I promise not to peek...much.”

Since there was no door, she could see where modesty had to be thrown out the window. Thankfully the shower wasn't in full view, but one little glance around the corner and voila! Her treats would be on display, but the need to get clean over road her modesty in that moment. “OK...I'm um, stripping.”

Squirming and wiggling out of her clothes, she plopped them down, taking her panties and bra along, figuring they could use a good scrubbing anyway. Inside the tiny bathroom, she stepped into the bathroom and turned on the water, letting out a surprise yelp as cold water hit her already cold skin. Fuck! No hot water! Gritting her teeth she grabbed the sliver of soap he had left and stripped off her undies, scrubbing herself up and then her underwear as best as possible. His shampoo was just as bare, but she managed to lather and rinse, feeling better knowing she didn't smell rank anymore...at least by her standards.

Ringing out her under things, she set them aside and quickly towels herself off, her teeth shattering in her head as she struggled into his too big tshirt which hung around her knees. Still...she felt completely naked and vulnerable.

Slowly she walked out, glancing around to find him sitting on the bed Indian style, sipping on his beer and chowing down. Wet clothes in hand, she went to hang them up as he instructed and then grabbed her own meal, walking to the bed and sinking slowly to the edge of it. Her body was still trembling, lips a little off colored, but she felt better than she had in days. “Thank you.”
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