Author's note: Sorry, again just dialogue, no action. Consider it the calm before the storm.
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Chance took in every detail of the room Guerrero had been occupying in Fallyn's house. There wasn't much to see, everything seemed in order, except for the sheets on his bed and the missing pile of clothes Chance had brought Guerrero from the loft. He turned around to Fallyn.
"Have you checked your medical cabinets? Are there any meds missing?"
"Uh, no I haven't. " Fallyn was in shock. She thought it was her fault Guerrero was gone. She had drugged him up, so he couldn't defend himself against whoever had apparently breached her house. And she hadn't even noticed anything from her living room on the second floor. As she started her inventory in the next room, Winston entered the sickroom.
"No marks on either door or the windows. Road's in front of the house, but nobody saw anything. If Guerrero was still out, they would've carried him outta here and there's no way they could do that in a non-suspicious way. I dunno, I'm beginning to think they stuffed him in a bag, flew up the chimney and made their getaway on a sleigh pulled by reindeer."
"There's no chimney, Winston."
"Just saying, they knew what they were doing. Or he. Pretty sure Barry Novacek could pull this off. We still don't know where he is."
"Look, Winston, we know Guerrero would've put up a fight if he was conscious, but apparently he didn't. If he was unconscious and they wanted to pull off a quick grab-'n-run, they wouldn't have packed his clothes. Winston, I think he walked out of here himself and on his own."
"Wha- you saying he kidnapped himself? What kind of a maniac is he? Don't answer that!" Chance just smiled. He should have seen it coming.
"What's so funny now? Don't tell me you approve of a man in Guerrero's condition to… go… wherever he's going. What was he thinking? You know what- I don't even care." Despite his statement Winston was fuming.
"It makes sense, Winston. He hates to be dependant on other people, that includes Fallyn, but also you and me. He wants to get to the bottom of this himself. And he can't do that as long as he's cut off every source of information in here."
"So, you won't actually go look for him or anything."
"What's the point? The dude wants to disappear, he disappears. He'll come around. Stop worrying."
"I'm not worried, no, I'm… relieved. Wouldn't go after the fool anyway."
Chance chuckled at Winston's unintended Mr.T impression. They soon succeeded to change Fallyn's mood from very worried to very angry and left for the loft. Chance went straight for the garage as he wanted to check Guerrero's car for any devices, so Winston let himself in and went straight for the kitchen to make coffee. The way turned out to be an obstacle course as he noticed that Chance had been too lazy to clear the mess the oldest of the Novaceks had caused here. At least he was rewarded with a steaming hot pot of fresh coffee as he entered the kitchen. Wait- what?
"Hey dude." came a very familiar voice from his far left. Winston froze and turned. Of course, he thought and sighing he poured himself a brew, then wandered over to where a low coffee table and a couch still stood upright.
Guerrero had his bare feet on the table and his laptop in his lap. On the armrest to his left lay his gun, at his right side Carmine was looking interestedly at Guerrero's screen. Carmine's back sported a writing pad and a pen and as Winston observed Guerrero added another doodle and a word or two on it. Guerrero didn't pay him too much attention, but when Winston failed to show any sign of movement, he finally said:
"Like what you did with the place. Only you'll have to find your own seat."
Winston didn't dream of doing what he was told by Guerrero, so he just stood there, coffee mug in hand. Guerrero finally looked up. Winston almost gleefully noted that the paleness in his face was back.
"Where's Caitlin?"
"She's safe. How did you-"
"Figured that. What happened here?"
"A mercenary called Vile Novacek was looking for something. How did you figure-"
"One guy did this? Impressing. Dude, sit down. Explain."
"No. You first." Guerrero's look screamed murder, but Winston also found a weariness in his eyes that made him remember how sick the man on the couch was, although he did a good job of hiding it.
"Where's Chance?" was all Guerrero offered.
"Checking your car for counter intelligence. Geez, Guerrero, I know you're making this extra-hard, 'cause it's me, but this is not about me. So how about you start with why you just stole out of O'Leary's house without. a. word."
"Dude, the woman's got a clinic to run. I can't hold her up forever. She's done more than her part. Fallyn knows me, alright? She understands."
"Oh really. Is that why I received a panicky call from her, explaining to me you were kidnapped?" Guerrero gaped at him for a moment.
"Uh, guess I gotta call to make, then." He began to reach for his phone on the table, but started when the pain in his torso prevented him from moving any further. Very slowly, he leaned back again and after a moment addressed Winston with frustration plain in his voice:
"Little help here, dude?" Instead of getting Guerrero's phone, Winston picked up the pill container next to it. The lid was still sealed.
"Actually I don't think calling her right now is a good idea. We told her you ran off and she might not want to hear it from you in the middle of the night. You took these painkillers from O'Leary's place, but didn't take any, why?"
"Dude, the stuff makes me think in hexagons and circles."
"You're already thinking in hexagons and circles" Winston nodded toward the scribbling on the pad "What's all this?"
"Just trying some things out."
"Oh yeah? Did you try out the probability that Novacek put a bug in here when he went on his little recovery mission?" Guerrero actually gave him a bitch-please-look.
"Dude, the whole loft's been under the best IS protection since I first set foot in here. Emission of Interfering Signals." he added impatiently at Winston's questioning look.
"And finding the place like this didn't make you, I dunno, wanna inform me or Chance?"
"Overheard your conversation with Chance. I was not as out as Fallyn would've wanted me to."
"So you came here knowing perfectly well that our surprise guest could come back any time and finish you in a second?"
"You wanna test me on that, dude?" Winston found himself staring into the muzzle of Guerrero's gun before he could even react. When after a few long seconds Guerrero put it away, however, he looked more drained than ever. With Guerrero's mood being on the ground of a very deep pit, Winston chose not to comment on that and instead took a sip of coffee- which turned out to be unenjoyably pungent.
"What the hell is this?"
"Caffeine, Winston." Chance joined their awkward gathering. "Makes you more coherent while at the same time helping to keep the pain at bay. How you feelin'?"
"Next time, dude, don't forget to bring socks."
"I was kinda hoping there wouldn't be a 'next time'. Besides, I just grabbed the pile that you were insistent on depositing here."
"Point taken."
"So, you crashing here tonight? Guess I'll go look for a pillow and a blankie."
"Let me do that." And with that sorry excuse for an excuse Winston ditched his coffee and set off towards the stairs. Chance unceremoniously threw Carmine off the couch and took his place. Guerrero flinched when Chance's weight made the cushions shift.
"Dude, what's he so pissed about?"
"He's not pissed. Winston's just reached the end of his tether. Alright, so maybe he's pissed. I'd be, too if I hadn't known you for so long. I'd definitely be in Winston's place. He's your friend, Guerrero, start treating him like one. Same goes for Fallyn."
"When you're done with your little love-for-the-world-speech, you're gonna show me what you found in my car?"
"The Novaceks never made it into your car. But I found this in the exhaust." He tossed a transmitter in Guerrero's direction. He didn't even try to catch it.
"That's as standard as they come. Won't help us any." Guerrero dismissed it. "What else?"
"The bug Winston picked up in the alley. I'll go get him."
When they came back they found Guerrero frowning at another of his sketches. A lot of lines, some of them scratched out, connected several geometrical forms, some of which had question marks in them.
"You've had enough coffee, dontcha think?" Winston growled at him.
"You're right, Winston. Which makes the blanket you're holding redundant. Whatcha got there?" Winston handed over the device found in the alley.
"It's a mic alright. Unfortunately it's for life stream only. But this one you don't put on people, you keep it with yourself. Can pick up noises from a few hundred yards away."
"So none of the Garsons would have use for it."
"My guess is, the sniper dropped it when I finished him."
"So he was eavesdropping on your conversation before he began firing at you. Why?"
Guerrero triumphantly waved the writing pad in Winston's direction. "Gonna find out, dude. The night's still young."
"Yeah well, not for me, so I'm outta here. 'Night, Chance, see ya guys tomorrow."
"'Night, Winston." Chance did a 360° turn til he was facing Guerrero again and found he couldn't avoid the inevitable any longer.
"Soooooo, I guess you won't get your ass off the couch to help me tidy up this mess?" Guerrero snorted and without another word went back to typing away on his keyboard.
The next three hours passed in relative silence while Chance bustled about his apartment and let Guerrero do his stuff, the silence being disrupted only by short conversations in which they pondered different possibilities of who was in posession of the 7up and why. At the end Guerrero grew more and more quiet and all Chance learned was that no files had ever existed on Garson, since Guerrero had stashed the most important stuff only in his head and the rest on his laptop.
"That's the reason you didn't hand it over yet, 'cause there was nothing to hand over, on paper at least. But what you're waiting for now?"
"All in its proper time, dude. I might have to go back to Garson and he's no use to me in jail."
"Well, it's my time to catch some zzzs. You got your coffee, you got your dog, your computer and your blanket. And the painkillers. Just yell if you need anything else."
"Seeya in the morning, bro."
Chance hesitated. "Just, you know…"
"…Don't overdo it? Dude, I'm way past this. This thing is personal now."
Chance still didn't move. When Guerrero spoke that last sentence he had seen or heard, maybe just felt something that sent cold shivers down his spine. Guerrero was on a mission.
"I know. That doesn't mean you gotta do it alone."
*tbc*
I'm still trying hard to produce some output here, how about you guys? Click that review button!
