Title: Tommy and Jason's European Adventure

Chapter Two – Viennese Escape

Original Posting Date: July 5, 2009

--

Between the Austrian National Library (Österreichische Nationalbibliothek), the Museums of Art and National History (Kunsthistorisches Museum and Naturhistorisches Museum) and a guided tour of the Emperor's Apartments (Kaiserappartements), the rest of Tommy and Jason's afternoon was spent exploring the grounds of the Hofburg, otherwise known as the Viennese Imperial Palace.

Originally home to the Hapsburg family's dynasty—and currently to the President of Austria—the palace was a massive structure, originally built in the fifteenth century and continuously expanded on in the decades and centuries that followed. Admission had been relatively inexpensive, and the pair had learned more in just a few hours here than they had in all the time that they had spent in Ms. Applebee's class.

When five o'clock started to roll around, employees at the Hofburg began preparing to close down for the evening, and so Tommy and Jason began making their way towards one of the palace's many exits, past the magnificent statues in Heroes Square (Heldenplatz) of the Archduke Charles and Prince Eugene of Savoy. As they walked towards the main road Jason stopped, turned around and pointed towards a balcony.

"That balcony right there is where Hitler stood when he annexed Austria into the Third Reich," said Jason, almost mournfully. "It's crazy, huh?"

"What's that?" asked Tommy.

"More than six-hundred years of history is in that building," answered Jason. "Some of the biggest events in world history have happened just a few hundred feet away from where we're standing right now. I mean, say what you want about Hitler, but he's iconic in ways that very few leaders have been: FDR, Churchill, Stalin, Hitler...for better or for worse, they're the ones that history will always remember. When we die, most of us will only be remembered by a few, but those guys…their legends will never truly die."

Tommy chuckled awkwardly. "You sound like you want to be remembered that way."

Jason glared at Tommy and said, "Can you honestly say that you don't?" Tommy stared back in confusion and Jason continued, "Come on, bro; you and I…we're exactly the same. After all the things we've done, doesn't it ever bug you that history will never remember us like it remembers them? The uniforms we wore, the things we did…those will be remembered, but never us...not the people we are."

Sighing helplessly, Tommy replied, "Yeah, sometimes I think about that and it bugs me, but there's really nothing we can do about it. Besides, as much as I'd like to be remembered, can you imagine what it would be like if the world knew who we were? Look at what happened with T.J. and the other Space Rangers. They're lucky if they go out in public and get stopped less than half a dozen times. I don't know about you, but I'd rather be forgotten than have to deal with that for the rest of my life."

Stuffing his hands into his pocket, Jason shrugged and said, "Yeah, I guess you're right."

As they started back towards the main road, his stomach gave a tremendous rumble.

"Damn," said Tommy, with a laugh. "Bet you wish you'd had some Mickey D's this morning now, huh?"

"Hell no, that stuff is poison," answered Jason, shaking his head. "I'm super hungry, though. You want to go grab something to eat? We can head back to the hostel after that, chill out for a little bit and then get ready to go out."

Tommy shrugged. "I'm cool with whatever, man. Do you know of anywhere around here that's good to eat?"

"Yeah," said Jason, nodding. "We spent a couple days here during the peace conference and went to this place called Figlmüller. It's a cool little spot; awesome schnitzel."

"How far is it?"

"About three miles that way," answered Jason, pointing off into the distance. He then checked his digital wristwatch and added, "S-Bahn usually comes every fifteen minutes. If we run, we might be able to catch it."

Tommy seemed to ponder this for a moment. "Three miles, you said?" he asked, Jason nodding. "And what time is it now?"

"Five-oh-eight," said Jason.

"We might as well just walk. It's only three miles."

"Alright, well let's get going then," said Jason.

Tommy nodded his head in agreement, and with that they headed off. Less than a quarter of a mile into their walk they turned a corner; what awaited them around the bend made Tommy freeze on the spot almost instantly, his eyes wide and his mouth agape as he stared down the street in disbelief.

"What's the matter, bro?" asked Jason. Tommy, however, did not reply. "Bro?" continued Jason, waving his hand in front of Tommy's face. "Bro, what the hell's going on?"

Suddenly Tommy blinked and snapped his attention to Jason. "Sorry," he muttered. "What were you saying?"

"What's going on?" said Jason, with narrowed eyes. "You just stopped and zoned out, man."

"I-I don't know, man," said Tommy, looking back down the street.

Jason half-rolled his eyes. "Come on, bro. You and I both know you've never been a good liar. Your eyes give it all away. What's bugging you, man?"

Tommy sighed and shook his head. "It's this dream I had last night," he answered. "More like a nightmare, actually," he amended. "I kept chasing this girl all over Europe—at least, I think it was Europe—and that," he pointed down the street, "is one of the streets that I chased her on. It just caught me off guard, that's all."

"Weird, bro," said Jason.

"Yeah, weird," said Tommy, shrugging.

As they continued to make their way through the streets of Vienna, it became obvious rather quickly that it was impossible to walk any significant length without stopping at least a few times to see what was in the many shops that lined the city. A walk that should have taken an hour or so ended up taking closer to two, but for Tommy and Jason it had been well worth spending the extra time to really get a feel for the Austrian capital city.

Finally, after turning down a crowded and narrow walkway that ran between the rows of shops and eateries on either side, Jason pointed and said, "There it is."

Tommy followed Jason's finger to a green, oval-shaped sign overhead, emblazoned with elegant silver lettering that read Figlmüller — Seit 1905. "The sign looks pretty fancy, bro," he commented. "Are you sure we're dressed alright?"

"Yeah, we should be fine," said Jason, Tommy shrugging as he followed his friend inside.

A blonde haired, blue eyed hostess who appeared to be in her early twenties greeted them with a polite smile, and for the next five minutes Tommy stood there in visible boredom as Jason chatted away with her in German.

In the few short hours that he had been abroad Tommy was already regretting having not learned a foreign language. He had taken two years of Spanish in high school and had needed hours of help from Billy just to scrape by with halfway decent marks. Now, however, as he was forced to watch Jason openly flirt with the Austrian beauty, he silently wished that he had Jason's multilingual fluency.

Then Jason turned around and said, "Let's go, man."

Tommy just nodded and followed; it was something he seemed to be doing quite a bit of recently. The hostess sat them at a short, picnic style table and directed their attention to the menus, which were written in chalk on blackboards mounted on either side of the room.

"You have to try the schnitzel, bro," commented Jason, as the hostess walked away. "I've had it in a few different cities and this was by far the best."

"That's the breaded and fried piece of pork, right?" questioned Tommy, trying to sound at least somewhat knowledgeable.

"Some places use pork, but that's not traditional schnitzel," answered Jason, Tommy's expression deflating slightly. "Real Wiener Schnitzel is actually made with a really thin slice of veal. The name is actually protected by law in Austria. If it's made with pork it has to be called Wiener Schnitzel vom Schwein."

"Dude," said Tommy. "How do you know all of this stuff?"

Jason laughed. "I don't know, man. I've always liked history, plus I spent two years living abroad in a country that has four official languages. You should see Trini, though. I can speak German and French, and Zack can speak Italian and bits of French, but Trini speaks all three fluently and even picked up some Romansh, which is absolutely crazy considering less than one percent of Switzerland actually speaks it."

"Sometimes I wish I'd gone to the peace conference," muttered Tommy, distantly.

"Oh, come on, bro," said Jason. "You and I both know you don't mean that."

Tommy looked away and said, "Maybe I do. I don't know, man. I feel so out of place and it's been less than a day."

"Tommy, you're in Europe for the first time," said Jason, laughing, "You're supposed to feel out of place. Trust me, man, it wasn't like I just showed up here on the first day and immediately knew everything. It took twoyears and even then, there's still a whole lot of shit that I don't know. When we go to places like Belgium and the Netherlands, I'm going to be just as lost as you, but if you ask me that's half the fun of it."

"I just—" started Tommy, sighing as a waiter appeared to take drink orders. Both men ordered beers—one of the few things Tommy could actually do in German—and when their waiter left he continued, "I don't even know what I'm trying to say, bro. I guess…I guess part of me is a bit jealous of all the stuff that you got to do. Sometimes I can barely handle English, you know?" he added, with something of a laugh.

Jason chuckled. "It's funny you say that, because it's the exact same way for me. I mean, yeah, I got to do some cool stuff that most people can never say they did at that age, but what you did in Angel Grove for three and a half years is bigger than anything that I did in Switzerland. It's not even a comparison. If it wasn't for you and the others doing what you did there wouldn't have even been a Switzerland for me to go to in the first place. Honestly, sometimes I wish that I had never left to begin with."

"What? Why?" questioned Tommy.

"Because, bro…you have no idea what a painful choice that was for me to make. For all three of us," said Jason, shaking his head. "When you left, it was never an option; it was something you were forced into and there was nothing you could do about it. But me…I chose to leave. Yeah, I knew that I was leaving the team in good hands, and Rocky turned out to be a damn good Ranger himself, but to this day there are still times where I feel like I turned my back on my duty by going to the peace conference. That's part of why I came back for gold…"

Tommy was on the verge of replying when their waiter reappeared with two tall glasses of house brewed pilsner. "Order for me," he muttered to Jason.

Jason rolled his eyes, looked to the waiter and said, "Englisch?"

"Of course," said the waiter called Klaus, whose sudden use of English immediately perked Tommy up. "Are you both ready to order?" Jason nodded towards Tommy, who asked for the Wiener Schnitzel. "With boiled potatoes or potato salad?" asked the waiter.

"Potato salad," said Tommy.

"Auch der Wiener Schnitzel mit Kartoffelsalat, bitte," said Jason, ordering the exact same thing as Tommy.

"Sehr gut," said Klaus, nodding politely before walking away.

Jason then took his glass, raised it and said, "To Europe."

Tommy grinned and clinked glasses with Jason as he echoed, "To Europe."

--

Several hours later saw Tommy and Jason riding the same train that they had taken to the Hofburg; the only difference with this trip was that, after exiting the train, they went right instead of left. It was well dark now, and as they walked the streets of Vienna they did so in the closest things to dress clothes that either had packed. Both wore jeans and long-sleeved, collared shirts; Tommy's shirt was a dark shade of green, while Jason went with basic black.

"What's this place called again?" asked Tommy, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

"Flex," said Jason, for the third time. "How can you not remember that? It's one freaking word!"

Tommy laughed and shrugged. "After this long, you should be surprised when I remember things, not when I don't."

"Touché, bro," chuckled Jason, keeping his eyes open for any sign of the nightclub. It was nearly fifteen minutes later when a bright, neon pink glow became visible from half a city block away. "I think that's it."

"How can you be sure?" said Tommy, squinting. "I can't even read the sign from here."

Jason shook his head. "I looked it up on my phone while you were in the shower and there were some pictures. One of them was of a big pink sign that said Flex. I don't know about you, but I haven't seen a whole lot of glowing pink signs around here."

Left without a comeback, Tommy appeared to be in pain as he struggled for something witty to throw at Jason. "Yeah?" he said. "Well-well you…your face looks like my butt."

"Tommy, we had gym class together, remember?" said Jason. "I've seen your ass and it is nowhere near the perfectly crafted gift to the world that is my face. It's like comparing a bottle of fine wine with that crap in the box; it just doesn't work, bro."

"And you say I'm in denial," replied Tommy, with a laugh.

Jason shot Tommy a look, but said nothing as they approached the glowing pink sign, the lettering of which became legible shortly thereafter. The sign read, in stylish cursive, Flex Café.

"A café?" said Tommy, furrowing his brow. "I thought this place was a nightclub."

"It is," said Jason. "The front part is the café. It's really more of a half-café half-bar, though, and there are tables on the other side of the building that overlook the Danube canal. The nightclub part is in the back."

"Wow," muttered Tommy, shaking his head. "I'm just going to call you Frommer's from now on, alright?"

Jason rolled his eyes. "Well, one of us has to at least kind of know what's going on, and since you're an uncultured fuckhead, I figured it would have to be me."

"Fuckhead, huh?" said Tommy, Jason nodding. "That's cute, bro. Just for comparison sake, how much does your head hurt right now? Because you and I both know that you've spent the last fifteen or so hours trying to come up with that one."

"Oh that's really rich, especially coming from the guy who can't tell Austria from Australia," replied Jason.

As they approached the door of Flex, Tommy said, "I might not know Austria from Australia, but if I wanted to, I could still kick your ass right here, right now. You're just lucky I have a sexy ass Australian waiting inside here for me or it'd be all over, bro."

Jason just shook his head and laughed as they entered the café section of the building. Soft, rhythmic music played in the room that was ten times as long as it was deep. A line of red cushioned stools sat in front of the bar that served coffee and espresso beverages along with the standard beer, wine and liquor.

"I'm going to grab a beer," said Tommy. "Do you want anything?"

"Yeah, I'll have a beer," answered Jason, Tommy nodding. "You sure you can handle that by yourself, bro?"

Tommy rolled his eyes. "Don't make me punch you, Jase," he replied, sharing a quick laugh with Jason before veering off towards the bar.

Arms folded across his chest, Jason stood at a short distance away and tried his hardest not to laugh as he watched—and listened to—Tommy attempting to order the drinks in German. He had no problem ordering one beer, but two…well, that was another story entirely. In the end, it took resorting to hand signals to get the drinks, but Tommy carried them back as proudly as if he had just carried a fluent German conversation.

As Tommy walked back towards him with a glass in each hand, Jason made a face and started waving his hands around wildly. "Is that official sign language, bro?" he asked, laughing.

"I got the beers, didn't I?" said Tommy, taking a drink from the glass in his right hand.

"Yeah, I guess I have to give you that," said Jason, extending his hand to receive the drink.

"Oh," said Tommy, downing the beer in his left hand in one long gulp before proceeding to the other glass and doing the same. "Did you want one, too?" He then made a face like Jason's and began clinking the glasses together, trying to look as idiotic as he possibly could.

"Alright, I deserved that," conceded Jason, with a single nod of his head. "But now neither one of us has anything to drink.

"Not true," said Tommy, grinning. He then walked back to the bar, set the glasses down and, as he returned to Jason, pulled a brown glass bottle from his back pocket. "You don't have anything to drink."

"You're a dick," muttered Jason, chuckling.

Tommy just shrugged, watching and waiting as Jason walked off to get a beer. A few minutes later, Jason returned and started leading the way towards the back of the building, where loud house music could be heard thumping on the other side of what had to be a very thin wall.

"Oh God," said Tommy, holding his hand against his ear. "Apparently Eminem was wrong; people do listen to techno. Not that that's an excuse," he added, wincing slightly. "How do people actually listen to that stuff?"

"It's Europe, bro," said Jason, sort of helplessly. "Sometimes you just have to go along with what you get and not ask questions. I'm definitely with you on the music, man, but unfortunately this is one of those times."

"House music makes me sad," muttered Tommy, sarcastically.

Jason laughed. "It's not like in the States, man. It's not going to be pacifiers, glow sticks and Ecstasy. Actually," he continued, pausing briefly, "I take that back. It's probably going to be all those things. Just try to concentrate on the fact that Katja is easily a nine-point-five, which is something like seventeen and a third if you're using the metric system."

"You're so retarded," said Tommy, laughing as well as they stepped through the entranceway that led to the actually nightclub. The main lights had been turned off, though the large room was still illuminated by an array of multi-colored strobe and spot lights, not to mention the dozen or so disco balls that hung from various places in the ceiling. "I'm not sure I like European nightclubs very much, bro," he added, cautiously.

"Katja, man," said Jason, firmly. "Just think about Katja."

"Right, Kim," said Tommy, nodding, an expression of horror crossing his face as he realized whose name he had just uttered. Shaking his head furiously, he quickly amended, "Katja, I meant Katja; not Kim, Katja."

Jason narrowed his glare towards his best friend, but said nothing despite clearly being able to see the lie in Tommy's eyes. Still, he tucked that comment away with a firm mental reminder to revisit it at another time.

"Do you see her?" said Jason, yelling over the music as he looked around the club for any sign of Katja or her friends.

"No! You?" replied Tommy, just as loudly.

"If I could see her I wouldn't have—" started Jason, pausing to shake his head as he continued, "Forget it. Hey, I think that's them!" he added, pointing to a small group of women on the opposite end of the club.

They were all standing in a fairly tight circle and at the center was a blonde who appeared to be similar in height to what Jason could vaguely remember of Katja. From behind, it was the best that he could do.

"Only one way to find out!" said Tommy.

Jason nodded his agreement, and with that they started towards the group of women. They were halfway there, weaving their way in and out of clusters of dancing people, when one of the girls on the outside of the circle pointed their way, directing the blonde's attention to them.

The moment Tommy saw her face he announced, "That's her!"

"You sure?"

"Positive!" said Tommy. With Jason at his side, he approached the circle with visible confidence. As soon as the circle opened up, however, granting him a clear path to the stunning blonde dressed in a black leather miniskirt and strapless white top, all that he could manage to do was creep the rest of the way and timidly mutter, "Hallo."

Katja smiled briefly and then proceeded to launch into a thirty second diatribe in rapid German that left Tommy staring at her with his mouth hanging open. She ended her speech by taking a sip from the crimson-colored cocktail she was holding, but the look on Tommy's face as she went to swallow made her laugh, drops of liquid sputtering from her lips as she hurriedly covered her mouth.

"They call that an 'ice breaker' in America, yes?" said Katja.

Her English was obviously accented, but not so much that Tommy had any difficulty understanding her. "Yeah, that's definitely an ice breaker," he answered, laughing as well. "I'm Tommy," he continued, extending his hand.

"Katja," she replied, taking his hand with a smile. "You looked cute at the train station, but the closer view is even better."

"Thanks," said Tommy, smiling awkwardly. "You too."

At that point one of the other girls said something to Katja, who momentarily shifted her attention away from Tommy, which allowed him to look back at Jason and mutter, "What's she saying, bro?"

"She's probably asking why a girl as hot as Katja is wasting her time on a guy like you," answered Jason, grinning.

Tommy was about to reply but, before he could, a hand seized his shirt and spun him back around. "Come," said Katja, gently taking his hand, "Dance."

"Okay," sputtered Tommy, allowing himself to be lead onto the dance floor as he looked back at Jason, who winked and nodded encouragingly. Next moment Tommy was dancing, Katja's body pressed tightly against his.

"Tell me about yourself, Tommy," whispered Katja, her arms slinked around his neck.

Tommy swallowed hard; there were very few things that he absolutely could not stand, but talking about himself was definitely one of them. Still, when a gorgeous blonde shows interest in you and asks you to do something, it's usually pretty hard to say no. This particular instance was no exception to the rule.

For a few minutes Tommy awkwardly told her about his life as they danced closely, forced to leave out many of his happiest moments because they seemingly always revolved around being a Ranger in some way or another. She seemed fairly interested in what he had to say, reacting just enough when he said something particularly funny or serious to keep him talking.

Exactly like it would be with any other guy, Tommy's confidence started to rise whenever she laughed at one of his jokes, always wearing an expression as though whatever he was saying was the only thing in the world that she cared about. This kept going on until Tommy began thinking that he was going to run out of things he could actually talk about, but long after that point he was still talking as he and Katja danced and drank the night away.

The more Tommy drank the more his urge to spend the night with Katja took control, meaning he cared very little about the fact that Jason was currently surrounded by Katja's four friends at a table on the other side of the club, receiving similar treatment to what Tommy was getting on the dance floor.

It was nearly one in the morning when Katja announced that she was going outside for some fresh air and that she would very much enjoy it if Tommy accompanied her. Before Tommy could even answer she had taken his hand, pulling him along as she headed for the exit. Fresh air, however, was not what Katja was after.

As soon as they had stepped into the cool night air she whirled around and seized Tommy by his shirt, pulling him down to her level and kissing him hard. Tommy responded the only that way he knew how, returning the kiss as he took Katja by the waist with one hand and lead her to a darkened corner nearby.

The next hour or so became something of a whirlwind after that. When Tommy suddenly found himself being thrown onto a bed that was not the one he had rented for the evening, he was hard pressed to recall exactly how he had even gotten there in the first place. He could vaguely remember fending off Katja's over-the-top advances long enough to send Jason a text message from the back of a taxi cab, but everything else was blurred pieces of memory that made very little sense in his inebriated state.

"Would you like something to drink?" said Katja, standing a few short feet away from Tommy.

Though he knew that he was well past his limit, Tommy shrugged and replied, "I'll take a peer, blease. I mean beer, please," he added, looking embarrassed for just a moment before he burst out laughing at himself.

Giggling, Katja nodded and said, "I'll be right back."

Tommy just laid back and watched her walk away with his hands behind his head and a wide grin on his face. "Hate to see her go, but love to watch her come—wait, that's not it," he muttered, chuckling. "It's, Hate to see her go, but love to make her come. Ha-ha, Tommy, you're so funny. You always make me laugh."

He had no trouble keeping himself amused for the next few minutes and, when Katja finally returned with a beer bottle in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, he was laughing at another joke that only he had heard. It took him a moment to realize it, but he stopped laughing as soon as he saw that she was wearing nothing more than a black g-string.

"Damn," he breathed, blinking rapidly.

"You like?" said Katja, doing a whirl. Tommy could only nod. "Good," she continued, extending the bottle to Tommy as she added, "For you."

"Thanks," said Tommy. Smiling, he accepted the bottle and took a long sip. Less than a minute later, everything went black.

--

The first thing to pop into Tommy's mind upon waking several hours later was that he would have much preferred spending the rest of the day fighting Goldar than dealing with his head pounding like it was currently doing. The next was that he was still wearing his clothes from the night before. Slowly his eyes fluttered open, his head a cloudy mess as he tried to recall what had happened to make him feel this way.

"It wasn't the booze," he muttered, struggling to push himself up and into something of a sitting position.

He slowly looked around the room—the nearby digital clock-radio read six-forty-seven in the morning—vaguely able to recall the cab ride that had gotten him there. Katja had told him it was her apartment—and in his drunken state he had believed her—but now it was apparent that this room was probably one of many in what was undoubtedly a very cheap hotel. The bedspread was covered in a thin layer of yellowish dust, the wallpaper was peeled back in multiple places, and there was a foul odor in the room that smelled something like ammonia mixed with burning, unwashed socks.

Tommy lurched as he took in another whiff of the stench. "I have to get out of here," he muttered. Quickly, he tried to push himself onto his feet, but ended up groaning loudly and falling back onto the bed when his attempt at moving too fast made his head explode with pain.

Though he had never been a huge drinker by any stretch of the imagination, Tommy was experienced enough to know that this headache was not the result of an ordinary hangover. Almost instantly, a horrified look crossed his face.

"Shit!" he yelled, bolting onto his feet even as his forehead seared. His hands immediately went to his pants; after giving himself a thorough shakedown, a small sigh of relief escaped his lips as he realized that all of his personal artifacts were still on him. Then, upon retrieving and opening his wallet…

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!!" he bellowed, using every ounce of self-control that he could muster in an effort not to put his fist through a wall. All the cash that he had taken to the club, his debit and credit cards...if it had any monetary value whatsoever, it was gone. The only things he had left were his California driver's license, his Reefside High School faculty badge, an expired coupon for a free cup of coffee, and a handful of business and insurance cards.

Grabbing his cell phone from his pocket, he held down the 2-key—Jason's speed-dial button—for a few seconds and waited impatiently as he listened to the line ring. Finally, after five rings, he heard a click.

"Good night, eh?" said Jason, groggily.

"Fuck no," said Tommy. "What time is it in California right now?"

"What? Why?" asked Jason, confused.

"No time to explain right now," answered Tommy, who then repeated his question.

"I don't know, man," Jason yawned. "I have no idea what time it is right now. Pacific Time is nine hours behind us, though. Why, what's going on, bro?"

"Nothing, I'll call you back," said Tommy. As soon as he had ended the call, he dialed another number and rolled his eyes when an automated voice answered the line. He spent the next few minutes inputting a series of numbers, and then was forced to wait on hold for five more minutes until an actual human being came on the line.

For the next thirty minutes he sat on the edge of the bed, calling the different banks he used to cancel all of his cards and to check on any fraud. He was relieved to find that all of the large transactions attempted over the past few hours had been blocked—thousands of dollars on one transaction that was done internationally usually raised quite a few red flags in the fraud detection departments at most major banks—but that had not stopped a handful of transactions ranging between fifty and seven-hundred dollars from clearing his accounts.

Luckily he did not keep more than a couple thousand dollars in his checking accounts at any given time, and most of his money was safely tucked away in heavily protected savings and investment accounts that only he had access to. Still, as he went about filing the necessary fraud claims, he could not help but to feel as if he had just been punched in the stomach repeatedly.

It was nearly eight o'clock when at last he collapsed back onto the dusty bed, having called everyone he possibly could to make sure that Katja would no longer be able to access his bank accounts. Sick to his stomach at how taken advantage of he felt, he closed his eyes and initiated one last call, this one a return to Jason.

"What the fuck is going on?" demanded Jason, right after the line had clicked over.

Tommy sighed. "Katja took everything, man. All the money I had on me, my bank and credit cards…everything."

"What? How?" said Jason, his tone switching from irritated to concerned almost instantly.

"I don't know, bro. Honestly, I don't really remember a whole lot of what happened last night," said Tommy, proceeding to tell Jason what little information he could recall.

"So, what, you drank too much, passed out, and she took all your stuff?" said Jason.

Scoffing, Tommy replied, "I know I drank too much, but it definitely wasn't alcohol that knocked me out. All I remember is that she brought me a beer; after that, I don't remember anything up until an hour or so ago."

"You think she drugged you?" asked Jason.

"She must have. I can't think of anything—" started Tommy, falling silent when someone began knocking loudly. "Hold on a second," he added, walking to the door. He pulled the door open and furrowed his brow upon seeing a portly, balding, middle-aged man standing in the hallway.

"Uh, can I help you?" asked Tommy.

"Du musst jetzt gehen!" barked the man.

"Wait, what?" asked Tommy, visibly confused.

"Dummer Amerikaner!" said the man. Even Tommy could figure out what that meant. "Du musst jetzt gehen!" he repeated.

Blinking rapidly, Tommy brought the phone back to his ear and said, "This guy's yelling at me in German and I have no clue what he's saying. I'm going to put you on speaker. Ask him to repeat what he said and then translate for me, okay?"

"Uh, yeah, alright," said Jason, who did what Tommy had asked and then continued, "He said that you have to leave now."

"That's fine with me," said Tommy, chuckling bitterly. He then tried to make his way past the pudgy man, who he reasoned was some kind of hotel employee, but was stopped with a meaty hand to his chest.

"Der Zimmer ist zweihundert euro!" yelled the hotel worker.

"What'd he say?" asked Tommy, to Jason.

"He said the room is two hundred Euros," answered Jason, grimacing from his position on his bed back at the hostel. He then proceeded to go back and forth with the Austrian man for the next few minutes, Tommy looking more and more confused with each passing second. Finally, Jason returned to English and said, "I tried to tell him what happened with your wallet, but he doesn't care. He said you either pay him the two hundred Euros or you're going to regret it for a very, very long time."

For a brief moment Tommy wore a contemplative look. "Jason," he finally said, more a question than anything else.

"Yeah?" replied Jason.

"Don't hang up," said Tommy. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Tommy, wait—" began Jason, but that was all that Tommy heard.

Dropping his phone back into his pocket, Tommy returned his attention to the chubby man and said, "I'm leaving now. If you know what's good for you, you'll let me go."

Again, Tommy tried to push past the man, but again he was stopped. "I don't think so," he replied. Tommy's eyes went wide when he heard English. "Bruno, Gerhard! Komm her!" he roared. It took all of ten seconds for two burly, imposing, well built Austrian men to come bounding down the hallway side-by-side. "Either you pay, or you deal with them," he added.

Closing his eyes, an irritated Tommy sighed and said, "Fine, have it your way."

This time, when he tried to walk out of the room the man didn't stop him. Instead, the enforcer called Gerhard threw a haymaker punch at Tommy's head that the former Power Ranger was just narrowly able to avoid.

"Bad move, pal," muttered Tommy, whipping around and slamming his elbow right into Bruno's face. Just as quickly he spun back around and executed a beautiful snapping side kick that connected with Gerhard's chin, snapping the muscular man's head back violently.

Looking around wildly, Tommy saw that both of the larger men had been momentarily fazed and that their boss was wearing a fearful expression after seeing what Tommy was capable of. Realizing that this was his chance to escape, he took of running and did not stop until he had reached the opposite end of the hallway, at which point he looked back to see Bruno and Gerhard lumbering after him.

"Shit," said Tommy, shaking his head. "They're way too big to be moving that fast."

Big as they were, though, the pair of men came charging so quickly that Tommy was left with no other choice but to spin on his heels and take off sprinting once more. Digging his phone from his pocket as he ran, he brought it to his ear and said, "Stay with me, buddy."

"What's going on?" asked Jason.

"Just hang on," said Tommy. "I'll be back in a minute," he added, gripping his phone as he burst through a door leading to the stairwell. Tommy rolled his eyes upon seeing the red numerical twelve painted on the adjacent wall.

Taking the steps two and three at a time, it was not until he had reached the sixth floor that he looked back to see Bruno and Gerhard just one level behind him. Gathering every bit of strength that he could muster, he forced himself to move faster until at last he hit the ground floor with Bruno and Gerhard still on his tail.

There were only a few people in the hotel lobby, but somehow each and every one of them ended up crossing Tommy's path at one point or another. Most of them he was able to avoid, but one or two ended up sprawled out on the lobby floor as a result of being in the wrong place at the worst time possible.

Only when he had pushed through the lobby door and entered the morning air did he return to Jason. "Alright, here's the deal," he breathed, turning right and running with no idea as to where he was going. "I'm on Große Sperlgasse. I need to know where the closest Eurail station is and I need you to meet me there with my backpack as soon as fucking possible."

"Dude, what in the hell is going on?" said Jason.

"The guy at the hotel said I either had to pay or regret not paying," answered Tommy as he ran down the streets of Vienna. "Well, it turns out my regret was going to come from two very large guys who looked like the freaking Terminator. I got away, but now they're chasing me through the city. Hurry up and tell me what I need to do, alright?"

"Jesus H. Christ, man!" exclaimed Jason, somewhere in between amused and frustrated. "You and Kim are about the only two people I know who could actually get themselves caught up in something as ridiculous as this!"

Tommy rolled his eyes. "I really don't need that right now, bro. Are you going to help me or what?"

Jason laughed. "Don't worry, Neo, Morpheus is going to get you out of the building."

"Neo got caught in that scene, remember?"

"Only because he was too much of a bitch to get to the scaffold," said Jason. "Give me a second to pull up the directions on my phone. If you can, find somewhere to hide for a few minutes."

"I'm not going to be able to hide," replied Tommy. "Its way too crowded out here and these guys don't seem like they're going to let me put that much space between them, anyway," he added, weaving his way in between pedestrians. "Seriously, bro, I need your help. Just get me out of here as fast as you can, alright?"

"I'm already moving, man," said Jason. "I've got your stuff and I'm on my way to the station. You're going to need to go straight for a mile or so and then take a right at Siebernsterngasse. You didn't have your passport and train stuff on you, did you?"

"No," answered Tommy, his heart pounding as he pushed his way through the morning crowd. He was trying to avoid injuring anyone else in his attempt to get free, but judging by the noises coming from behind him, it did not sound as though Bruno and Gerhard were giving their fellow countrymen the same courtesy. "At least I don't think so," he added, a few seconds later. "Do me a favor and check my backpack. Open up the main section; on the inside and to the right is another zipper. My stuff should be in there."

It took Jason a couple of minutes, but eventually he came back and said, "Yeah, it's all here. I still can't believe you got yourself into a mess like this, bro. I think this is one of those stories you'll be telling your grandkids about. If you make it out in one piece, that is."

Tommy laughed dryly. "Hardy-har-har," he replied. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, buddy."

"Anytime," chuckled Jason. "Oh, and just so you know, if there was any doubt in your mind as to who the better leader was, this whole situation right here should officially put it to rest. Notice how none of this crazy shit is happening to me…"

"That's because you're too much of a pansy to take the risks that I do," said Tommy. "This one was definitely a shitty decision, I'll give you that, but ninety-nine percent of the time they end up working out. I'll take those odds any day of the week, man."

"Any day except a Saturday in Vienna," quipped Jason, with a laugh.

Tommy rolled his eyes. "What street do I take a right at again?" he asked, squinting to read the street signs as he approached an intersection.

"Siebernsterngasse," said Jason.

"Alright, this is it then," said Tommy, veering right around a corner, nearly taking out half a dozen people in the process.

"Good," said Jason. "Three streets up, turn left."

"Three streets, then left; got it."

"Are those guys still chasing you?"

Tommy looked back briefly. "I don't know," he replied. "It's too crowded to tell but, to be honest, I really don't care. I'm not stopping until I'm on a train out of this—" he paused, stopping at the corner of the street, and then a moment later muttered, "Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh? Why uh-oh?" said Jason. "What's going on?"

"Well, I've got good news and bad news," said Tommy, narrowing his eyes. "The good news is that they stopped chasing me for awhile."

"And the bad news?" asked Jason.

"They're back and they're on motorcycles. I'm going to run now."

"Good idea," said Jason.

Tommy did not hear him, though. He was too busy dodging automobile traffic as he ran across the street, the two Vespa bikes approaching rapidly from the other direction.

"Tommy! Tommy, can you hear me?" yelled Jason.

"I got ya!" answered Tommy. "I don't really have the time to chat, though!"

"There's a park about a quarter of a mile west! You might be able to lose them there!"

"Goddammit," grumbled Tommy, shaking his head. "I did not come to Europe for this shit."

Jason gave a half-chuckle at that, while Tommy took a quick left down the sidewalk. At that point, the two men swerved to follow him and brought their vehicles onto the sidewalk as well, causing civilians to scatter in every direction as Bruno and Gerhard continued their chase.

Unfortunate as it was, their lack of care for the people around them ended up being a benefit to the fleeing Tommy. Multiple times they were left with no other options except to brake and swerve, slowing them down just enough to keep a small bit of distance between them and Tommy. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he came across the park that Jason had spoken of; it just wasn't what Tommy was expecting.

Instead of playgrounds and trees and other obstacles that he could use to his advantage, all he had to work with was a large spread of green grass and a few small trees dotted throughout the wide open field.

"This is some park you lead me to, bro," said Tommy, who was now running across the lawn. "It's just grass and a few trees. I might as well be standing in the middle of rush hour traffic in L.A. with a giant bulls-eye painted on my chest."

"Sorry, bro," said Jason. "The map just said there was a park. It didn't say what kind."

"Yeah," said Tommy, wincing when he heard the motorbikes catching up to him once more. Looking around for somewhere to hide, he realized there was nothing he could use whatsoever. Letting out a sigh, he knew that there was only one other option. "I'll be back in a second," he added, setting his phone down carefully.

Slowly, Tommy turned around to see Bruno and Gerhard, side-by-side as they headed straight for him. A half-cocked grin crossed Tommy's lips at that point; then he shook his head and started running right at them. The two men shared confused looks, slowing down slightly as it seemed that Tommy was at long last giving up.

This was exactly what Tommy had wanted them to do.

In a matter of seconds he was less than fifteen feet away from the pair. At the last possible moment he changed direction just enough so that, if he was to continue running, he would run right in between them. Instead of running, however, he sprung towards Bruno on his left and kicked him in the chest, using the sturdy surface as a launch pad to Gerhard, who was also the recipient of a similar kick. Both men went flying from their cycles, which in turn sped off wildly for a few moments before tumbling over onto the grass.

Tommy looked back at the cycles, knowing that now was the time to make a firm escape, but something deep inside of him drove him to approach the grounded men, both of whom appeared to be in a great deal of pain and were doing very little in the way of moving. Standing tall over the pair, Tommy lowered himself into a squat, took a fistful of shirt in each hand and forcefully yanked Bruno and Gerhard into seated positions, their heads slumped and their eyes groggy.

"Well, boys," he said tauntingly. "I'd say we all learned a valuable lesson today, wouldn't you? Now, before I leave you two, there's just one more thing that I want to say. FUCK YOU!" he yelled as he slammed their heads together.

Laughing, Tommy whirled back around and ran to retrieve his cell phone before heading over to one of the motorbikes, the engines of which were still running. Tommy quickly killed one of the engines, pocketing the key as he climbed onto the other cycle. He then brought the phone to his ear and said, "Well, I don't think we have to worry about me getting chased anymore. I think it's probably still a good idea to get out of Vienna in a hurry, though."

"Let me guess," said Jason. "Neither one is going to feel very good when they come back around, right?"

Tommy laughed. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. I'll fill you in once we're on the train. How do I get to the station?"

Once Jason had given him the directions, it did not take Tommy long to reach the train station now that he had a means of transportation that moved increasingly faster than his legs. Some ten minutes later he pulled to a stop alongside a curb that fronted a few different shops and eateries, a nearby staircase leading underground. Hopping off the motorbike, he immediately began looking around for Jason, but there was no sign of him; nor was he downstairs, either.

Seated on a stone bench, Tommy waited for a few more minutes and was just about to call Jason when the former Red Ranger came bounding down the stairs with his backpack strapped around his shoulders and Tommy's in hand. As soon as they met eyes from a distance of twenty-five feet Jason started laughing heartily. Not only was Tommy's appearance disheveled from the night before, it had been made exponentially worse by the chase through Vienna.

"You look like hell," commented Jason, handing over the backpack to Tommy.

"Thanks," muttered Tommy, rolling his eyes as he threw his backpack on.

"Hey, I'm here for you, pal," replied Jason, laughing as he patted Tommy's shoulder.

Tommy shook his head. "So, where are we headed to, anyways?"

"Switzerland," answered Jason, Tommy nodding. "The train leaves in twenty minutes."

"How long is it to Switzerland?" questioned Tommy, as a train rumbled into the station, stopping at the platform across from the pair.

"About nine hours to Zurich, little less than twelve to Geneva," said Jason, shrugging.

"So we're done with Austria then? There's nothing else to see here?" asked Tommy, furrowing his brow.

Jason laughed. "Oh, there's plenty more to see in Austria, but from the sound of it, you just physically assaulted two guys. I think it's probably best if we get out of the country, you know what I mean?"

"Dude, it was self-defense!" replied Tommy. "It was either that or get the shit kicked out of me! I can't get in trouble for that!"

"Sure you can," said Jason. "First off, you're a foreigner; that's strike number one. Secondly, if it ever got that far, there's two of them and one of you. Let's see, a corroborated story from two locals saying some crazy American beat the crap out of them for no reason…hmm, I wonder who wins that one."

"Yeah, you're right," said Tommy, half-sighing half-laughing. "You know, my mom called me the night before we left all worried that I was going to get in trouble over here. Now I see why. We've been in Austria for, like, a day and a half and I already have to flee the goddamn country."

Jason chuckled. "Yeah, but like I said earlier, you have a pretty damn good story to tell your grandkids when you get older."

Tommy could only nod as they stood there, waiting for the train that would eventually take them away from this country, a place that he vowed he would never visit again as long as he lived. Several minutes later, he turned to Jason and said, "You know, I'm kind of glad I didn't do anything with Katja last night."

"Oh yeah?" said Jason, raising an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

Tommy shrugged. "Don't get me wrong; I mean, she was definitely hot and everything, but I can't help getting the feeling that someone else is out there waiting for me as we speak. I know it sounds weird, but I've felt this way before, and when I do it usually leads to something pretty damn big."

Jason just smiled.

Oh, how little Tommy truly knew…