I'm back from vacation! Here is Part 2.
Updated 6/1/15
~PageBreak~
"Ok, so where are you parents or guardians right now?" the police officer pulled a chair over and sat down.
Ja'far turned his head to the side. The officer sighed and looked up at the pale boy, waiting for an answer. After a few silent seconds went by he cleared his throat.
"We need to inform your guardian about the situation. And I am sure they are worried since you were missing all night. Plus you need them to discharge you from the hospital," the man said, his all-knowing eyes locking onto the dead green eyes that turned to face him.
"….They are not here," Ja'far said in a dead voice, his mind focusing on what to tell the cop instead of masking his expressions.
"Are they out of state? Who is in charge of you?" the police man asked, pushing up tall in his chair.
"I am of legal age to be without my guardians. I can check out myself," Ja'far spoke clearly, turning on the bed to try and leave the room.
"Woah, woah, there. I need some form of ID to prove your age and permission from your guardians. You cannot just leave on your own, and I highly doubt you can leave at all right now. Rest easy, the department is paying for the hospital time since you are a victim," the police officer said, standing in front of the bed to keep Ja'far from getting out.
"One of your men shot me," Ja'far scowled, but mostly because he had just remembered why he was in the hospital. I wonder how many of us survived or are in jail right now. Ja'far thought grimly. Does this mean…I have no more work? The thought was a strange one. It had been so long that Ja'far did not remember a life out of assassination. But I have now been linked to the organization. I'm now under the police's radar. I might be…terminated. I'm a loose end that might prove to be more trouble than worth.
"Yes, well it was with just cause. The officer told you not to move and you attacked him," the cop said bluntly. "Think of the free treatment as a way of apologizing. We didn't know that you were a hostage."
"….I understand," Ja'far nodded.
"Good, so just for curiosity sake, how old are you?" the officer said, walking back over to his seat.
"I'm eighteen," Ja'far said confidently. The cop raised an eyebrow.
"A senior in high school?" the cop asked, a suspicious tone in his voice.
"Junior," Ja'far replied with a slight pause. Looking down at his hospital gown and giving a slight scowl. Hideous.
"Do you go to Brimlock High School?" the police officer leaned forward.
"No. I take online courses and home school myself," Ja'far said with a pause. As if with a practiced ease. The last thing I need is more eyes on me at school, let alone this going down on my record if I want to further my education.
"Online? They have programs like that now?"
"Yes. Regular schooling….was not for me," Ja'far said, his hands twitching. I wish I had a book right now. Something to take my mind off of all this. Ja'far eyes lid in slight annoyance at having to deal with the police man's conversation and not having a single form of descent literature nearby. I wonder if they allow inmates to read in Solitary confinement. Perhaps it is not as torturous as one is lead to believe.
"Ok! One hot cup of black tea! One sugar and no milk!" A happy voice chimed at the door to the room.
Ja'far didn't care to hide the small smile that came to his mouth at the smell of tea. If it could even be called a smile, as it seemed more likely that his scowling face became less frigid and more calm, peaceful even.
"Oh, I'm sorry Officer, do you need the room?" The nurse asked, setting the tea on the side table.
Ja'far reached for the cup quickly, cradling it in his hands and breathing in the small steam it gave off. Drinking a big gulp, his eyes only on the brown liquid. The warmth going down his throat was like aloe on a sunburn. It healed his aching throat in ways no medicine could. Breathing a sigh of relief as his muscles relaxed and his throbbing head settled.
"Yes, I am sorry for the inconvenience, but this is a private conversation," the officer smiled to the young women, raising one eyebrow as he saw Ja'far gulping down the tea. "Hey don't drown over there."
Ja'far looked up from the cup, slowly putting it in his lap with his hands still curled around its warmth. His eyes shining with embarrassment as the adults in the room seemed to be mocking him.
"Of course, Officer. I will be right outside, Honey! If you need anything just tap the button on the bed's handle bars," the nurse bowed and left the room quietly.
"Before we go into detail of your capture, I still do not know your name," the man said with a knowing tone. Ja'far could see that the man was suspicious, but keeping a level head, he knew that suspicion can only go so far. "Please try to keep in mind that we will run the name through our data base, so lying will only lead us to distrust you."
"Ja'far. I have no middle or last name that I know of," Ja'far spoke, his eyes watching the steam coming from his teacup.
"That is all you know? You must have put down some type of last name for your school registry." The officer narrowed his eyes.
"I used the letter J for my last name. All of my legal documents will show the name "Ja'far J." Ja'far felt sweat at the back of his neck. If they look up that name, they will find my school ID. Damn! I will have to go into hiding. This man, why is he so persistent?!
"…I see. Well, with that taken care of lets discuss your capture," the officer wrote down diligently on his note pad.
God I despise this man!
"Where were you when you were captured?"
~PageBreak~
Ja'far gave a silent sigh as he flopped back on the bed. A growl on the tip of his tongue. The officer had just left the room, treating the hour of interrogation as if it were a simple chat over coffee. He had managed to give the man just enough information to keep him satisfied, but not enough to reveal his true nature, at least that is what he hoped. He had been captured on his way to the park around noon for lunch, taking a shortcut through the city. He was grabbed from behind and blindfolded. Shortly after he was locked in the room they found him in, but not before he was told what would be done to him. Summoning some crocodile tears as he told of the horrible words the men had told him.
"I took Karate," Ha. Ja'far thought with a bitter laugh. If being forced into learning hand to hand combat with the intent to slaughter silently counts as Karate. Ja'far turned to the medical machines, his eyes gleaming as he pulled the power cables from the side. The loss in power blackened the screens and thankfully no sound came to alert the nurses. Ja'far pulled the needle from his arm and wrapped his arm quickly with a shred of the sheets he lay on. He thanked the air for the long sleeved gown he was given. He did not want the officer to see the scars he had accumulated over the years from training and various punishments. But, he knew without a doubt that the doctors and most likely the nurses had seen them. They must have given me the long sleeves out of pity.
After concealing his arms with gauze bandages left in his hospital room, the young assassin searched for his clothes, but saw not a single scrap of cloth. I cannot leave in this. I must find something quickly. Quietly the white haired boy opened the door and flickered his gaze around the perimeter, waiting for a moment to slink from the room undetected. Bustling nurses and gurneys flew through the hallways. It seemed an accident had occurred, and that made for the best coverage; confusion and panic. Slipping into the white halls Ja'far walked quietly to an exit. A few nurses turned to his direction, but were called not a moment later to help with the patients.
"All available nurses to the ICU!" a women yelled. Nurses behind her in a second, yelling orders as they went.
"Do not put the gurneys over there! Get them out to the ambulance quickly!" Another yelled, pushing past scurrying interns.
Ja'far ran from the building, his teeth gnawing together when he tripped on one of the steps outside the Hospital and felt a deep pain come from his thigh. Damn. I forgot about the bullet. I should have enough morphine in my system for the next few hours, but I will need some type of pain medication soon. The wound will last for a few weeks, but I cannot wait, I will no doubt be called in a few days. Ja'far took to the side of the building, not wanting to go out the front and be spotted. Creeping around a dumpster, his hands out and ready to take down anyone that could jump out at him. His arms were light…lighter than they had ever been. Ja'far looked down at them. Could it be the morphine? …No…This is different.
My knives! Shit! Where did they take them! Ja'far's green eyes narrowed to silver, its shape close to what could be described as a snakes. Wait, calm yourself. Ja'far relaxed his tense body, taking a deep breath. The hospital would not have them. They would be taken in as evidence by the police. I cannot go barging into a police station. I have lost the knives and will just have to ask for a new weapon. Ja'far thought rationally. But the sting of losing the one possession he actually cared for and kept on his person 24/7. Ja'far hated to admit a weakness, but it is best to acknowledge them. If you know your weak points, you can fix them or at least protect them from being taken advantage of. Ja'far knew he was vulnerable without his weapons. It is true he knows how to disarm and fight off an opponent up to three times his size. But Ja'far was a creature of clean killing. He did not wish to struggle with brute strength, but rather to maneuver his blades, using his mind to calculate strategy.
I do not like being without my blades, but I can make new ones. Ja'far sighed, letting his back hit the brick wall of the hospital's side. Looking back at the bustling Hospital, Ja'far pondered his next move.
I shouldn't run from the hospital. It will just show the police that I am a suspect. As much as I want to leave right now, I should go back in and check myself out. Ja'far grumbled at his rash actions and started to walk back into the hospital. At least my clothes will be returned to me.
Refraining himself from kicking at the ground, Ja'far walked back into the hospital and up to the reception desk. The desk-man seemed reluctant to let him leave, claiming that his wound would need to be rested more. But Ja'far assured him he would stay in bed for the next week. It didn't take too much fighting, seeing as he had no guardians around and he was eighteen. He was given his clothes, but they were stained with blood and ripped in a few places, so they gave him a shirt and pair of pants from the lost and found. Great.
Thankful the police officer didn't see him leave, the white haired boy trudged out of the sterile building and onto the streets. Heading off in the direction of his apartment; taking extra precaution by checking every few minutes for lurking men or police. But after the fourth block, the pain in his leg became more and more prominent, and on the fifth Ja'far was forced to sit on one of the street benches to ward off the pain.
Running a hand through his stark white hair, Ja'far glared at the passing bystanders. His apartment was still three more streets from the bench he sat on, and he didn't know if he could make it down another. It seemed to be an hour or so after noon. The sun was passed the middle of the sky, but not close enough to be near night time. Ja'far let his head fall against the back of the bench.
If I am under the suspicion of the government, this means I am no longer a ghost of the legal system. Of course I did have schooling records, but they were easy enough to manipulate. This is not something that my masters will overlook. I must take into account the possibility of being terminated. Should I take this moment of calm and run for it? How far could I go before I am captured by his men? Ja'far felt another migraine gnawing at his head. His throat ached for another sip of tea. The days I had to read and drink tea might be coming to an end. If I leave and take up a new alias I can get a stable job and perhaps I can live undetected. Ja'far closed his eyes, his mind racing with possible futures. But this would also mean leaving my current profession. Ja'far opened his eyes, his view a cascading portrait of the winding skies, at the thought of no longer being paid to kill and murder. If there had ever been a moment to let true tears fall; it would be now. But none came.
To think a day came where I could alternate my course for a normal life. Ja'far watched the clouds rolling across the sky, squinting at the shine that stung his eyes. No. As much I want to believe, this would not be true. Deviating from Al's Men would only mean becoming a target myself. Arhhh, perhaps the best idea would be to lay low for a while and see what I can find out. Nothing good comes out of jumping to conclusions. I will wait for either instruction or my executioner. Ja'far closed his eyes, his hand massaging the area around his thigh, trying to prepare his mind and body for the walk he was about to take. Huh, I guess the walk home isn't the only one I'm starting now.
"Didn't anyone tell you not to sleep on a public bench?"
Ja'far could feel his throbbing migraine being thrown into the inferno at the sound of the voice. It was only one sentence, but it was enough to make him forget all about his earlier dilemma and focus solely on getting as far away from the speaker as possible.
"I am not sleeping," Ja'far ground out, rising from the bench and starting off in the direction of his apartment, not sparing a glance to the teen.
"Awe, don't be like that! I just wanted to say hello," Sinbad said, walking over and trying to put his arm around the smaller teen's shoulders. Ja'far maneuvered his way around the appendage.
"And now you have said it. Leave."
"Sounds like someone's having a rough day." Sinbad sang.
