Ha-ha! Success!
The final chapter is here at last.
For those of you who were enjoying the variety here, I'm sorry about the prolonged arc. My muse, which previously has held me to 970 words, suddenly went nuts. I'll try to get things under control next time around.
In the meantime, here's the end of Prosimian's account. I hope you've all been enjoying her spunk, but it's time to move on.
As always, please leave a note if you like what you see.
Enjoy!
Knyle B.
Disclaimer: Hawaii Five-0 is not mine. I am only playing with it for a little while.
Noises from the stairwell had me scurrying for cover. Luckily, the mass conduit of pipes and metal frameworks running down the ceiling of the hallway overhead had plenty of room between it and the concrete above. I slipped into the gap and settled just as McGarrett and Williams came into view.
At least in the basement a little displaced grime from above would go unnoticed.
I remained perfectly still as the two policemen walked towards me, their low words becoming distinct as they passed.
"What do you mean, you think you know who it is? That didn't seem like a good thing to mention before?"
"I just remembered, Steven; keep your cargo pants on. It was a long time ago, and it wasn't my case. I only thought of it because the day the lead man asked me to consult on it, I went to question a woman who disappeared."
I could hear the raised eyebrow in McGarrett's tone. "You went to question a missing woman?"
"No, she went missing when she saw me coming," Danny stressed. "Vanished right out of an empty hallway. Next thing I knew, the whole mess was over. Prosimian the psycho artist left town for good."
"With her, you think."
The commander was interested, I could tell. Which didn't mean as much to me as it maybe should have, because I was distracted by a startling recollection.
Jersey.
Detective Danny Williams had come to Hawaii from New Jersey, I recalled. New Jersey, where I had my first and only face-to-face run-in with a cop investigating my work.
That cop had been blond. He was compact, fit, and good-looking, if there was any truth to be gotten from the split-second glance I got of him out my sixth-story window and then again as I exited my apartment.
I hadn't run until my secret camera in the stairwell showed him coming for my floor, and by then it was late enough that he saw me fleeing. Not willing to be a person of interest or even mentioned on record at all, even if it meant abandoning my current project, I bolted completely out of the city.
At the time, Vegas seemed like more fun, anyway.
But that was then, and there I was later, stuck not five feet away from the one man who had possibly seen my face and was probably smart enough to tie me into our meeting in Jersey and my activities in Hawaii. My life had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.
Perfect. Wonderful. God-Fucking-DAMMIT.
But he was still talking. "Actually, I think she left as her."
His partner looked over at him sharply. "She's Prosimian? Do you remember enough for a description? A name, contact, anyone?"
"How about we just find her here so we don't have to worry about it?" the detective suggested.
By then, they were walking out of hearing range. I'd heard more than enough, anyway. It was time to get out. Quickly. Post-haste. Now.
Leaping from my hiding spot as soon as they were around the corner, I ran back into the boiler room. Exit plan B would have to do; there was no way I was going anywhere near those two men again that night—
"Stop right there."
A tall figure had stepped out of the shadows in front of me, and before I could turn and dart away, the lights flicked on. Finished illuminating the room, a second, smaller person walked up behind me, blocking my way back. I skidded to a halt, panicking.
Oh, shit.
Motionless, I bit my lip under my mask and deep hood. Ninja-skills or not, there was no way I could dodge bullets from the two guns pointing my way, not at that range.
I was screwed.
In front of me, McGarrett kept his gun trained on my hidden face and ordered, "Hands where I can see them, and don't move."
I did as he said, listening to Danny holster his sidearm and walk up to me. Strong, warm hands relieved me of bag and then ran quickly over my curves, reaching around to unclip my utility belt and pull the lock pick set out of the top of my boot.
Then came the worst part. He pulled my arms down and slipped handcuffs onto my wrists behind my back. I cringed away from the cold metal. I hated being tied up. Finally, his fingers closed around my hood and jerked it back, pulling the mask off my face.
The air was cold against my skin. I felt naked, but I didn't let it show for a second as Williams walked around me to stand next to his partner. Both stared.
The first thing I did when he went in front of me was slip the pick out of the waistband of my pants. With it in my hand, I found myself suddenly calm and composed. As I started to work on the locks of the cuffs, I smiled at them.
"That was pretty friendly, Jersey."
The detective started, looking hard at my face and figure. My answering expression made him blink and look away, embarrassed. Poor policemen and their ethics. They were always easy to get uncomfortable. It was good to know I still had the knack for it.
"You do know me, then. It really was you in the tenement," Williams stated, quickly recovering enough to look me in the eyes again. "You were in New Jersey when Prosimian was there."
I was impressed that he could withstand the innuendo. Most "good guys" didn't have thick skin, but he was steel underneath, for all that he usually acted high-strung and anxious.
I nodded approvingly, smiling wider. "Mm-hm. And I ditched you there, too."
He thought a moment, frowning. I let my smugness radiate as his bemusement reached me. The cuffs clicked open behind my back, the noise muffled my jacket and overpowered by the rattling machinery all around.
I know something you don't know…I sang in my head.
Blue eyes widened all of a sudden. "Uh-oh."
Alarmed, McGarrett looked over, his gun still aimed for my chest. "What?"
Danny gestured at me explicatively. "That is not a good look."
"Why not?" The commander eyed me doubtfully, observing the same relaxed confidence that had raised Williams' hackles.
I was at ease. Not only had I beaten their restraints, I'd just remembered a convenient fact about the building I was in, and I was certain that I could use it to get out of there. I just needed them to stay off-balance for a little while longer…
"It's the female equivalent of the cat about to eat the canary," his friend explained.
"I don't see it."
"We're the canary," Danny added helpfully.
McGarrett frowned at me. I repressed laughter.
"There's no need for that," I chided him, pretending offense at his seriousness. It was mocking, but his sense of humor was trustworthy, for a cop. "We've got a little while longer to enjoy each other's company. Then, sadly, I have to go."
They didn't know what to make of that. I enjoyed their confusion as the final few seconds that I had been waiting for elapsed. Then…WHOOSH.
Showtime.
The boiler room suddenly came alive as its timer kicked in, beginning the cooling cycle for the whole building. In reaction, huge jets of steam and mist shot down from the rusting connections overhead. In an instant, the open space where we stood was obscured by water vapor.
Taking advantage of the fog, I tucked my unlocked cuffs into a pocket and took off into the maze of steelwork. Five-0 was right behind me, but there were too many small places where I could fit and they couldn't. Soon, I burst out into the dark night, running off into the shadows and safety.
I'd lost them.
A bit giddy and a lot rattled, I headed straight for my closest bolt-hole. I was in dire need of new supplies, a shower, and reassurance that there weren't any tall SEALs sneaking up behind me—or clever blond detectives. That night, I slept fitfully, constantly awaking to check the locks and monitor the cameras.
By the next day, it was clear to me that Hawaii was no longer hospitable to my kind. Regretfully, I packed up my things and prepared to depart covertly. I had a few favors to call in with a local merchant; I wasn't worried about getting to the mainland.
I did, however, feel bad about not saying goodbye. So, late in the afternoon, there was a final alert put out about the "psycho activist's" activities. Five-0 cleared out of their headquarters in minutes, rushing out to catch me in the act of sabotaging the illegal-safari travel agency that Kelly and Kalakaua had scared me away from before.
As soon as they left, I entered. My bright red sundress hadn't attracted the kind of attention that I wanted to avoid as I made my way through the palace. Neither had the brightly patterned scarf tied around my fake hair or the tall heels on my feet. People couldn't help but see me when I was dressed that way, but they only recorded what I was wearing, not my actual features.
There were many ways to escape notice when you were on the run. One of them just happened to be being as noticeable as possible.
I'd memorized all the camera angles, so I kept my face turned away from each of them, taking the route that led me past the least amount of recording devices and drew as little unknown watchers as possible. They'd still know too much by the end of it, but I didn't mind as much as I should have. I really did like those guys.
Five-0's space was nice: organized, streamlined, and homey. Just as I'd thought it would be. When their hallway was clear of traffic, I waltzed right in and deposited my parting gift on the fancy computer-table, forced to stop and admire the gadget for a moment. Man, did those kids get toys.
Then I turned around and strutted right out of that building, melting into the city with the rest of humanity. When McGarrett and his teammates returned that evening, empty-handed with another of my stunts to deal with—I actually did a thorough job on the travel agency, complete with an animal-print-painted jeep parked midway through the wall of their lobby with a toy Prosimian behind the wheel—I was on a boat headed for Florida.
And so here I sit a day later, watching the ocean speed by.
I wish I could have seen their reactions when they walked in and saw my surprise. I'd certainly spent enough time on it to earn a little reward. I'll just have to settle for delayed returns, I guess. Without a doubt, I know Five-0 will put my delivery to good use.
The large stuffed monkey was the softest I could find, since I figured it might be passed on to the little girl that McGarrett and Williams had talked about. There was a picture on the blond man's desk that I had stopped to admire; someday, Grace is going to be just as delectable as her father, I'm sure. Until then, she has plenty of good people to help her grow up right.
The box that I set my little buddy on top of is the most important part of the package, for the immediate future. I didn't think McGarrett's the type to trouble with a bomb squad, but whenever he actually does get around to opening it, he'll find all my research and targets for Hawaii inside, along with a few added tidbits that a team like his can address.
And I left a note. Duh.
Thanks for the fun, all. Keep Jersey busy for me.
I've dropped some bread crumbs. Catch me if you can!
–P.
Such an act of goodwill is new territory for me. I'm not sure how I feel about my sudden willingness to share the workload, but oh, well. If I'm ever going to trust a group of people to do the job right, the members of Five-0 are definitely my best choice.
I couldn't be in better hands.
A belated note from Google:
Prosimians are a type of primate that include lemurs, lorises, bushbabies, and tarsiers, but not simians, e.g. monkeys and apes (including humans).
I should have probably included that earlier. Sorry, guys.
All right. With this behind me, I think I'll go rest my fingers for a little bit.
Thank you all for reading, and I'll be back with you soon.
Take Care,
Knyle B.
