Automan: 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?J) I also don't own the characters Walter Nebicher, Roxanne Caldwell, Jack Curtis, Cursor, Ronald Tilson, or Captain Boyd, either. So, please don't sue. Besides, you wouldn't get much money out of me anyway. The characters Jordan Sanders/Shadow, Jones, Ed, Ian Slavich, John Tyler, Steve 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. Well, enjoy.
Ch. 1--Jail Break
A dark-haired man sat on the edge of the bunk in his jail cell brooding over how close he had come to bringing Los Angeles to its knees just like it had brought him before one cop and his holographic friend had put an end to his reign of terror. Somehow they had to pay for ruining his plans. But first, he had to get out of here.
He looked up without really paying much attention as his cell door was opened and a black man a couple of inches shorter than him, his cell-mate, was escorted back into the cell. No words were exchanged as he and his cell-mate talked very little. For the most part, his cell-mate left him alone with his thoughts.
He waited as the guard closed the cell door locking it and had walked out of earshot before turning to his cell-mate. He broke the solitude that would have usually existed between them saying, "Well?"
His cell-mate turned to him. "Getting into the place isn't going to be too hard, but they have surveillance monitoring on the carts upon departure. How are we supposed to get around that, Tilson?"
"Leave that to me, Jones." Tilson leaned back against the wall considering how to hack into the prison computer system. Should be a piece of cake for someone of his caliber; someone who had wired whole cities. He came up with an idea but it would have to wait until tomorrow. He quietly told Jones what his idea was.
The next day, Tilson pretended to have a terribly upset stomach and got Jones to get the guard. The guard let Tilson out of the cell and escorted/helped him to the medical section.
The doctor had examined him and stated that he may have an acute case of the flu that had been going around and he wanted to run some more tests. The doctor left the examination room and headed into another area for the special equipment required to perform the tests. Soon after the doctor had left, Tilson sat up on the examination bed and looked around for the surveillance camera he knew would be in the medical section. Once he found it, he tore off part of the sheet from the examination bed, got off of the examination bed, went to the camera and using the loose fabric bound the camera to camouflage his movements. Once that task was done, he went into an adjacent office and booted up the computer within the office. The computer took a couple minutes to boot up. He knew he would have to work quickly. The doctor would be back soon. When the computer was ready, he hacked into the prison mainframe looking for the program controlling the cameras within the laundry room. He quickly found his objective and hurriedly modified the surveillance cameras to show Jones performing his laundry duties from the night before just before his cell-mate was scheduled to go to perform his duties within that area tonight. 'The break begins tonight,' he thought with conviction. His task completed, he deleted all traces of his activities on the computer and shut it down before heading back into the examination room. The doctor came in just as he was getting himself in a more comfortable position on the examination bed. The doctor gave him a full physical. He had Tilson explain what his symptoms were. Tilson told the doctor he had an upset stomach with nauseousness. The doctor finished giving him the exam and prescribed some anti-nausea medicine and rest. He made sure Tilson took the medicine. He went to an intercom near the wall and pressed a button. The same guard that had escorted/helped Tilson to the medical section appeared and escorted him back to his cell.
Jones watched as Tilson went over and laid down on his bunk and the guard closed and locked the door. He waited until the guard was out of sight before turning to Tilson, "So?"
"Everything's set. You just need to get me in there," replied Tilson. The medicine the doctor gave him made him drowsy and he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Six hours later, a guard came to Jones' and Tilson's cell door. "Jones, come on. Laundry duty."
Jones, who had been sitting on his bunk, got to his feet. He turned to the guard and said, "Hey, I'm gonna need some help. I've seen some of the carts I gotta unload tonight. They're too heavy for me to push by myself."
The guard turned to Tilson, who was lying awake on his bunk. "Tilson, you've just been drafted for laundry duty. Get up," instructed the guard. Tilson smiled to himself. Their plan was working perfectly. He slowly got to his feet. The guard opened the cell door and escorted both Jones and Tilson to the laundry room one floor down.
The guard waited outside of the room not being able to stand the smell of the dirty laundry in the room as Jones and Tilson went into the room. Jones and Tilson carefully examined each cart checking to see how many dirty laundry sheets were in each. Tilson walked around beside Jones mentally calculating which carts might make a good hiding place. Jones started sorting the clean carts from the dirty ones and told Tilson how to tell the difference between the carts containing clean laundry and the carts containing dirty laundry. The distinction narrowed down for Tilson the number of possible carts they might successfully hide in.
They knew the guard checked on them every hour, so Jones showed Tilson how to store the clean sheets that had come in on the shelves lining the walls and where to store the dirty laundry carts after they had added in this week's dirty laundry to the carts that were only partially filled. They were in the process of swapping some of the clean carts near the outside exit with dirty carts when the guard came in to check on them.
Time passed without them truly noticing. Before long, they had sorted all of the dirty clothes sitting on the floor into the appropriate carts. The guard had come in periodically to check on them without saying a word. When Jones looked at the clock near the outside exit, he realized the truck that comes to pick up the carts would be there in about an hour. The guard was due to check on them as well. Jones turned to Tilson, "Whatta we do about the guard? He'll be back soon to check on us."
"I've been watching the guard," said Tilson. "He looks around, but he's not very attentive. One of us could distract him then the other could attack him. We'll dump him in one of the dirty laundry carts. It'll take them some time to find him. I've selected the cart that we could most successfully hide in." He pointed to a cart ¾'s full.
The guard came into the room for his routine check on the progress of the prisoners when he noticed Tilson doubled over in apparent pain. "Tilson?" He went to Tilson's side. Jones silently came up behind him with a dirty sheet in his hands. He wrapped part of the sheet around the guard's head and neck holding it securely in position until he felt the guard's body go limp. Tilson suddenly straightened up, and both he and Jones picked up the guard and dumped him into a nearby dirty laundry cart and covered his body with some of the sheets in the cart. They quickly went over to the dirty laundry cart Tilson had indicated earlier could successfully hide them. They hurriedly climbed in and rearranged the sheets to hide themselves while they waited for the truck to come.
The more Tilson was exposed to the disgusting smell; the more he thought of how satisfying it will be to finally get his revenge on the persons responsible for him having to stoop to this sort of degradation. After several minutes, Tilson heard a muffled truck engine get closer to the building. He heard footsteps outside as the driver got out. Keys jangled in the lock as the outside entrance of the prison laundry was unlocked and the door was opened.
The driver positioned the door so it stayed open. When he went inside, he didn't see anyone. 'The guard must be escorting the prisoner back to the cell,' he thought to himself. He shrugged and quickly unloaded the carts containing clean sheets. After an hour, he had finished unloading all of the carts containing the clean sheets. 'Strange. Usually a guard comes around this time,' thought he. He looked at his watch and realized he was actually running late. He grabbed the nearest dirty laundry cart. He started loading the cart into the truck. After an hour, he had loaded all of the dirty laundry carts onto the truck. He still didn't see anyone. He shrugged before locking up the door. He quickly checked that all of the carts were secure in the truck before climbing into the cab and driving to the prison parking lot entrance/exit. He got quick clearance and was on his way back to the company in Long Beach.
After 10 minutes, Tilson felt the truck turn onto an exit ramp. He felt the truck turn again. They must be getting close to a truck stop. 'Must be fueling up. This is our chance,' he thought. He stayed as still and quiet as possible as he felt the truck pull to a stop. Tilson and Jones carefully uncovered themselves and silently climbed out of the cart. They could hear the driver talking to someone outside before going to fuel up the tank. They knew they would need to move quickly if they were going to have any chance of freedom. Tilson went to the door and examined the locking mechanism. He needed to find a way to unlock the door without making a lot of noise. He quickly figured out how to pick the lock and had the door unlocked within a short amount of time. He and Jones quietly exited the truck making sure to close the door behind them. They hid near the trucks making sure not to be seen by anyone.
Tilson knew they would need to quickly find a different set of attire and ditch the outfits they currently wore. He spotted a nearby lawn with garments hanging on a clothesline. The clothes looked like they might actually fit him and his associate. He silently pointed out the lawn to Jones, and they swiftly hurried into the yard, grabbed some clothes they thought might fit, and left again.
They needed to find a place to quickly change. Tilson spotted a costume shop not too far from the truck stop. He started heading for it gesturing for Jones to follow him. They went to an alley at the back of the shop hiding behind a dumpster. They patiently waited for the door to open. A bored looking black teenage girl came out carrying a bag of trash. Jones approached the youth. "Hi."
The adolescent spun towards the voice surprised to find anyone else in the alley. She noticed the two men wearing orange jumpsuits and got suspicious. "What do you want?"
"My friend and I just need to borrow your bathroom. See, my friend's been sick lately," said Jones indicating Tilson. Tilson gave her a wan smile before seeming to appear sick.
"I don't know, man. I could get in a lot of trouble if my manager found out I let you in."
"It's okay. We won't be long." Jones flashed a smile towards the young girl. "We won't say a word either." He winked at her conspiratorially.
She stood considering his request for a few moments before she nodded. "All right, but only for a minute." She lead them into the store and pointed to where the employee bathroom was. Tilson went into the bathroom first and quickly changed into the clothes he had appropriated. Tilson came out dressed in a blue flannel and blue jeans. Jones went into the bathroom as soon as Tilson emerged also changing out of his jumpsuit and into the stolen clothes. Jones appeared wearing a black t-shirt with a faded logo and blue jeans.
Tilson and Jones stood in a corner quietly talking. Tilson said to Jones, "Okay, I held up my end of our agreement. We're out, but the girl could ruin out agreement if she reports us to the police. We need to get rid of her."
"Leave her to me." Jones thought the girl looked rather cute and almost regretted having to dispose of her. 'Oh, well. All good things come to an end,' thought he. Jones approached the girl. "Hey, thanks for helpin' us out. Look, let me give you something for your trouble." He faked going through the pockets of his jeans. "Sorry, I must have left it in the alley."
"That's okay."
"No, I really want to repay your kindness." He flashed her a smile. "Come with me? It won't take long. I promise."
"All right, but make it quick. I can't be gone long from the store."
'Oh, you won't have to worry your pretty little head about that much longer,' Jones silently thought to himself. She followed Jones back out into the alley with Tilson following behind them. Jones approached the dumpster he and Tilson had hid behind seemingly searching for something behind the dumpster. He straightened up with a frown. "Hmm... Can't seem to find it." He turned to the girl. "Maybe you could help me. It's a small glass rose I had purchased for a lady friend, but I wanted you to have it."
"I don't know," replied she, glancing nervously at the store door expecting her manager to appear any minute. "I really should be getting back."
"I know it was here. If you could just help me look for it, I'm sure we'd find it much sooner and you can get back to the store." he quickly reassured her, smiling.
"Fair enough." She stepped closer to him and peered around the dumpster. Jones stepped up behind her and placed her in a choker hold. She tried struggling, but he was too strong for her and was easily able to hold onto her. After a couple of minutes, her struggling subsided and stopped. He put his mouth to her ear and whispered, "Sorry, babe. Nothin' personal, but it was either you or me." He snapped her neck, grabbed the keys for the register out of her pants pocket and dumped her body in the dumpster. He turned to Tilson. "Task done."
"We have to find a place to stay," responded Tilson. "I held up my end of the deal and broke us out. You have a meeting to set up." He reminded Jones of their prior deal while they were still incarcerated. "Revenge can be so sweet," he said with a smile imagining what the person he was going to meet might arrange for the two people who had ruined his plans last time.
"Yeah, I remember the deal. You break us out and I hook you up with someone I know who's best equipped to help you get your revenge. I remember and I know where we can get some money." Jones held up the register keys. He quickly headed back into the building, unlocked the register and quickly stuffed as many dollar bills into his pants pockets as he could. He rejoined Tilson in the alley. They left the alley thinking of the best place to hide out at.
After an hour of searching, Tilson and Jones came to a rundown neighborhood with a motel that had seen better days. Many layers of paint had been applied to the walls in an attempt to cover up the seemingly ever-present vandalism. A cheap wooden sign hanging above their heads by a rusty chain read "Reed's Motel". Small flecks of paint chips were slowly peeling from the sign. The sign looked like it hadn't been touched up in years. They went inside and stepped up to a cracked and stained wooden counter with a rack full of keys behind it. Inside, the stale air smelled of alcohol, tobacco, sweat, and other foul odors Tilson was sure were probably linked to illegal drugs and other illicit activities. Tilson looked at the unshaven man with greasy graying black hair behind the counter, who had looked up as they walked in, with some revulsion. The man smelled of alcohol. The man looked at them suspiciously before asking in a slightly slurred voice, "What can I do for you?"
Tilson silently sighed to himself and thought, 'Beggars can't be choosers.' He replied, "We need a room."
The man looked them over figuring them to be easy pickings and said, "Sure. Single room?"
"Yes. One with two beds."
"Right." He went over to a register book and squinted at the scant amount of signatures for a vacancy. He quickly came to a double occupancy room. He reached behind him and grabbed one of the keys off of the rack. He shoved the register book and a pen at Tilson. "Need ya' ta' sign the book." He clumsily pointed to a blank area on the page under the handful of signatures.
Tilson signed under the false name of 'Roger Smith'.
After Tilson had finished signing the book, the man turned it squinting at the signature. "That'll be $20 per a night, Mr. Smith." Tilson looked to Jones, who reached in his pocket and took out a twenty. He handed the money to the man. The man squinted at the money looking for any signs that the money may have been counterfeit before handing the keys to Tilson. "Alright, room 202."
Tilson took the keys. He and Jones went up the staircase across from the desk to their room. When Tilson entered the room, the first thing he noticed was how small the room was with only two beds, one television hooked up to basic cable, an end table between the two beds with a telephone on it and two chairs--one near each bed. He would have preferred something much more luxurious like what he had when he stayed at the Ambassador Hotel. Pushing aside his regrets, he turned to Jones, "Time to make that call."