DISCLAIMER: I do not own either of the movies in the Hostel series, nor am I affiliated with them in any manner whatsoever. This is just fanfiction. Moreover, no character dialogue or thought should be construed as representing my own personal views or feelings; it is just character development.
Chapter 1: Stakeout
Jordan sat in the tree and stared across the street through his binoculars. Specifically, he was observing the giant gate for any sign of activity. So far, nothing…
Fuckin' Slovakia...The asshole of Europe, from the looks of it...what the hell was he thinking, anyway? Jordan thought, shaking his head. If you're gonna go to Europe...Damn, that's why they created places like Paris and Rome!
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"Where in Slovakia did you say Richard was when you last talked to him?" asked Jordan's contact.
"It was this little village outside of the capital, Bratislava. Trat-something or other," Jordan replied.
"Shit," the contact muttered under his breath. "Okay, what was the last thing he told you? What was he doing? Where was he?"
"Well…he was just exploring the city. What can I say? He loves these little towns, calls them 'treasures.' Between you and me, though, I think he just wanted to get outta that fancy hostel and away from those chicks breathing down his neck and…"
"FUCK!" yelled the contact. "Fuckfuckfuck! Jordan, you'd better get your ass to that village NOW! The first train!"
"Why? What the hell's going on?" Jordan asked.
"Okay, look…" the guy said. "I can't tell you everything. All I can do is warn you to keep your eyes open and be ready for ANYTHING! And don't trust anyone, including the authorities, ESPECIALLY not them! You have to do this yourself!"
"But…" Jordan started.
"But nothing!" his contact interrupted. "After I give you these directions, get moving! You'll take the next train to Bratislava, but you'll get off at the last stop before the city…"
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Fuck me for not coming with him to begin with! Jordan berated himself. If I'd been with him from the start, I wouldn't even have to be here! I don't want to be. Shit, this place gives me the creeps! Nonetheless, he was here, and he knew exactly what he had to do.
Jordan was not exactly what you'd call "fearful"; far from it. As a matter of fact, he was about as fearless as any human being can be. Still, something about this place sent chills up his spine, but he wasn't sure why. In fact, he'd had this unsettling feeling ever since he arrived at the little Slovakian town—stepping out of the cab, arriving at the hostel, checking in, exploring the town. But, at that moment, the feeling was stronger than ever. He took a deep breath and continued to gaze at the gate.
Suddenly, a black car drove up to the gate and positioned itself to enter. A man dressed in all black, with sunglasses, got out of the car and walked up to the keypad on the side of the gate. Jordan stared harder, focusing with all his attention, as the man pressed several buttons: 6-2-4-7-3-1-8-4-9-0-1-3. The gate opened, and the man got back into the car, driving through.
Jordan quickly repeated the numbers to himself several times, memorizing them:
6-2-4-7-3-1-8-4-9-0-1-3
6-2-4-7-3-1-8-4-9-0-1-3
6-2-4-7-3-1-8-4-9-0-1-3
Not that it was an appropriate reaction, considering the situation, but he smiled widely, proud of his ability to memorize such a long series of numbers that quickly. Now, to figure out a way in, he thought. He couldn't exactly walk up to the gate and enter the code; the cameras would spot him, and he'd probably be shot on site. If only he could somehow get into one of those cars…
Jordan quickly put his binoculars away and started climbing down the tree, making sure to stay between it and the cameras. Once his feet touched ground, he moved silently into the depths of the forest but not too far to see the road. He slowly headed in the direction from which the previous car came, on a hunch that the cars would tend to come from the same direction.
After moving for about thirty minutes, Jordan stopped for a rest. He reached into his pack and pulled out some metal spiked balls, being careful not to cut himself. That first car looked pretty nice, so surely they're equipped to change a flat. That way, he could stop the car but without permanently damaging it.
Just then, he could hear a car coming in the distance. He quickly ran into the street, set the spiked balls in a small pattern on the correct side of the street, and retreated into the forest. Sure enough, as the car drove by, the spikes punctured the first tire on the right side, and sent the car into a skid. The skid sent the back of the car facing the forest. Jordan grinned and made a swift retreat behind a bush as a man got out of the car and came around back.
The large, muscular, bald man opened the trunk and took out a spare tire and some tools, cursing under his breath. As he walked back around to fix the flat tire, Jordan could hear him ask, in a distinctly Eastern European accent, "How the hell did these get into the tire? Oh, well…"
Jordan quickly looked at the open trunk and noticed a space where he could fit and hide. He silently, but swiftly, crept up to the back of the car. Fortunately, the trunk lid blocked the view from the back window or rearview mirror. He slid into the space and quickly covered himself with the tarp, hoping he wouldn't be detected.
He soon felt the car go back down, after the man lowered and removed the jack. He remained still and silent as he felt the punctured tire and tools fall into the trunk. Everything went dark, and he heard the trunk lid close. The car soon started once again and continued moving towards compound Jordan had been observing earlier. Here we go...
Note 1: As you may have realized, this fanfic does not deal with the main characters of Hostel or Hostel II. It could be either after the events of Hostel II or in an alternate universe entirely—whichever works for you. (Unless, of course, I elect to bring in some of those characters at a later date.)
Note 2: Jordan's comments about Slovakia and "chicks" do not represent my own views about the country or about women. In fact, I'm sure Slovakia is a wonderful place, and I'm also what you might call a "male feminist."