Automan: Crashing (sequel to "Trapped")
By autonwallyluvr
Disclaimer: I don't own Automan--wish I did. (Ahhh . . . my very own handsome, blond-haired, blue-eyed ahh. . . . just my type, artificially intelligent hologram. Hey, a girl can dream can't she?) I also don't own the characters Walter Nebicher, Roxanne Caldwell, Jack Curtis, Cursor, Captain Boyd, Ronald Tilson, Teresa Fuentes, or Zakzon, either. So, please don't sue. Besides, you wouldn't get much money out of me anyway. The characters Jordan Sanders/Shadow, Jones, John Tyler, and any other miscellaneous characters are mine all mine as well as the story idea, so please ask permission first before using them. Oh, and if the names, characters, places, and incidents bear any resemblance to the actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, they are a product of my sometimes overactive imagination and/or used fictitiously and are entirely coincidental. Oh, hey, and I don't own 'Tron' and any Tron-like elements in this story are most definitely a product of my very overactive imagination and are used fictitiously and are entirely coincidental as well. Well, enjoy.
Ch. 1--Changing Tactics
A dark-haired man, Ronald Tilson, sat on the end of the bed watching CNN on the only television in the room. He wasn't worried too much about any interruptions. As long as they paid their dues every night, the "manager" at the motel--if he bothered to call the greasy-haired man who had greeted them a manager--didn't bother them. His "roommate", Jones, was out getting them both something to eat and wouldn't be back for some time. (His associate tended to cavort in his nice, "new" sports car he had appropriated trying to impress the women. Tilson had told his companion to get rid of the car. It was too easily traceable. Jones wouldn't do it.)
His attention became suddenly riveted to the screen when he heard "Shadow". Using the remote, he turned the volume up slightly.
"On the streets, he was known only as 'Shadow'. No longer," said the reporter. "Today, the professional hit man, Jordan Sanders will face execution."
"One month ago, he had been arrested, tried, and convicted for the attempted murders of LAPD Officer Walter Nebicher and Federal Agent Otto Mann."
A side by side picture of a young man with wavy black hair and brown eyes--the caption underneath the picture read "Nebicher"--and a young man with straight blond hair parted to the right and blues eyes--the caption underneath the picture read "Mann"--were shown behind the reporter. The picture switched to "live" coverage of a young man with dyed brown hair, Sanders, being lead to the trial in handcuffs.
"On top of the two attempted murder charges," continued the reporter. "Sanders has also been linked to other multiple murders as well."
Tilson turned off the television with disgust. Sanders/Shadow had failed! Nebicher and "Otto Mann" still lived! Now he'd have to hold off terrorizing LA until he was able to get rid of the only two people who might be able to stop him! He realized with Shadow arrested and set to be executed, Tilson no longer had any use for Jones. Time to take care of Jones and his "little car problem".
A couple hours later, Jones returned with two bags of food. He handed one bag to Tilson. "Dinner's on."
Tilson dug into the bag and took out the sandwich and fries Jones had gotten for him. "Drinks?"
Jones went to the end table in between the two beds. He came back carrying two large cups. He handed one to Tilson. They ate in silence.
Later that night while Jones was fast asleep on the other bunk, Tilson got up. He had fallen asleep in what he was wearing. He quietly went to the chair near Jones bed and silently grabbed the keys off of the chair. He stealthily left the room heading for the sports car. He unlocked the door and settled in for a major rewiring job. He was going to get rid of two problems in one fell swoop.
Hours later, Tilson clandestinely returned to the hotel room and silently replaced the keys on the chair. He went into the bathroom and quickly cleaned up. He went to his bed and laid back down spent from all his hard work. He fell asleep with a slight smile on his face knowing two of his problems would soon be history. He even had an inkling of an alternative plan to take out his other two infuriating aggravations before they spoiled his chances to terrorize LA until the city paid the money he felt LA owed him. First, he would need a change of location, but he would deal with that problem in the morning.
Tilson had slept in the next morning. When he woke up, Jones was gone. Tilson figured Jones was out trying to impress the ladies with his "nice, new sports car". Tilson quickly got up and packed the meager belongings he had and left the hotel.
When Tilson passed the front desk, the manager asked, "Checking out?"
"Yes."
"Well, you still owe $20 for last night."
"Right." Tilson dug into the right front pocket of his jeans and gave the man the money. He walked out the front door without a backwards glance. He walked for some time until he came across a resort. He stepped inside the posh resort telling the manager he was only going to use the ATM machine and he'd leave. The manager allowed him to come in, but he kept on annoyingly close eye on him. Tilson worked quickly programming a substantial amount of money back for himself. After he completed the money transaction, he left. He stopped in a nearby Radio Shack and bought a floppy disk figuring he would need it for part of his plan to work.
On the street, he hailed a cab. He asked the cabbie to take him into the outskirts of LA. Just before reaching the outskirts of Long Beach, they went past an accident involving multiple cars. Tilson got a good look at one of the cars involved in the accident. It was Jones' "nice, new sports car" mangled almost beyond recognition. 'There's no way Jones could have survived that crash,' silently thought Tilson to himself with satisfaction. He leaned back in the seat of the cab smiling to himself. Two problems down; two to go.
Once at LA, Tilson hailed another cab to take him to the cheapest hotel/motel. The cab pulled up to a very similar looking motel to the one he just left. He quickly checked in. He went to a nearby clothing store and bought some new outfits. He went to the motel and quickly changed.
He left the motel and hailed a cab asking the driver to drop him off a few blocks from the LAPD precinct. He walked to the LAPD carefully avoiding any cops he saw. He looked around the building for a decent place to "stake out" the LAPD without being noticed. After a couple of hours of searching, he found one that was out of the way yet still gave him a clean view of its main front door.
Tilson went back and forth from his motel in LA to the LAPD at varying intervals. He would watch as the patrols would leave determining approximately which routes they took out of the precinct in order to more easily avoid them. He kept a close watch on the main front door trying to determine the days and shifts Nebicher worked. As he was studying the LAPD, he soon realized that Nebicher always left the station with either a graying black-haired man, Lt. Jack Curtis, and/or a blond woman, Office Roxanne Caldwell. He also realized Caldwell and Nebicher were a couple when he saw them holding hands every time they left the building.
Attacking Nebicher after he left the LAPD on his way home was out of the question, but Tilson had only vaguely considered attacking him outside of the LAPD anyway. He also saw janitors leaving the station at regular intervals. 'Janitors. Hmm,' thought Tilson. That gave him an idea. He went back to his motel room ruminating on how to make his barely formulated plan work. 'Very risky, but well worth it if I succeed. They won't get away from me this time,' he thought with conviction.