On the Run
Chapter 3: No Pun Intended
The human guard of Azkaban awoke, looking around. There's no way this just happened.
He studied the prisoners, their yelling and screaming on a decrescendo.
"It happened," he said aloud. He immediately left the prison and apparated away to the Ministry of Magic.
* * *
The trio's boat docked at the Azkaban train station. Max was the first to leave the boat, looking around the station. "We're gonna apparate out this place and head for Cross Point."
"Cross Point?" Joe asked.
"Where we live," Nathan explained. He turned to Max. "You think that's a good idea?"
"I think so..." Max said. "You could always like look for clues or something."
"Bad idea," Nathan said, shaking his head. "I'm sure someone would turn me in."
"No one believes you're guilty, Nathan," Max pointed out.
"I said we're not going!" Nathan yelled. "Cross Point is too big of a wizard town to take a chance in."
"Well, where do you wanna go?" Max asked Joe.
"New Orleans," Joe replied.
"Bad idea," Max said. "That's way bigger than Cross Point, and you're bound to get caught there."
"I dunno," Nathan said. "New Orleans isn't exactly full of good people."
"He's right," Joe said. "We could get some connections down there."
"You're talking about illegal stuff!" Max argued. "Like the Mafia or something!"
"Yes, that's exactly what we're talking about," Nathan said. "They control New Orleans. Never underestimate the power of crime."
"You guys are nuts," Max said. "Let's get outta here. Say, meet at my place?"
"Yeah," Nathan and Joe agreed at once.
" 'Kay," Max said, apparating away.
"Hey, where is Max's place?" Joe asked. "I just met him today..."
"Hold my hand," Nathan said.
"Oh yeah...tell you something...I think you'll understand...when I say that–"
"Joe," Nathan said.
"Yeah?"
"Shut up with the Beatles."
And the two left the train station, hand-in-hand.
* * *
Duke Dingo, the Australian Minister-elect, stood in his future office's doorframe, supervising the movers.
"That's not a paperweight," he told a mover who was setting his computer monitor on a stack of papers.
"Then what is it? Does it go with that funky-lookin' thing on the floor? Looks sorta like it, ya' know..."
"Yes! That's a monitor you were about to set down on all those papers." Duke moved out the doorframe, taking the computer monitor out of the mover's hands.
Before he had Minister-elect, Duke Dingo had been a web designer, employing himself privately, working in the Australian Outback. He'd been involved in politics, writing letters to the People's Party–the political party he was affiliated with–and one day, two representatives to the People's Party had knocked on his door, asking him if he wanted to run for Minister of Magic.
Duke received a running mate named William Henry, was the object of an assassination attempt, and as they say: the rest was history.
Of course, he had gotten himself a new Vice-Minister, as his old one was involved in a huge conspiracy. So now Keith Saracens, genius and close advisor to Cornelius Fudge, was his Vice-Minister.
"Go move in something else," Duke said. "I'll take care of the computer."
"Mister Dingo," said a Spanish accented voice from behind Duke. Duke turned, his eyes falling upon Keith Saracens.
"Yeah?" Duke asked.
"What do you need a computer in your office for?" Keith asked. "I know Muggles are big on 'em, but I don't think they're needed in the office of the Minister of Magic."
"You're right, Keith. It was a dumb idea thought up by a dumb person like myself," Duke replied.
Keith smiled. "Whatever you say, Duke."
* * *
Joel Coen, friend of Duke Dingo, was also supervising a move. Tomorrow he would become the new head of the Criminal Investigation division of the Ministry.
For now, he was a Sir. The Sirs were a top secret group of men and women similar to the Unspeakables. However, the Unspeakables did not do half as much work as the Sirs. Eighty percent of all Ministry intelligence work was conducted by the Sirs.
Joel was setting a box of books on the floor, near his bookshelf. He took the books out, setting them on the bookshelf.
"Excuse me," said a voice. Joel turned around, noticing the man in the doorframe.
"Who are you?" Joel asked.
"Name's Jack Hartmeyer. I'm the human guard at Azkaban," said the man.
"I see," Joel said. "All going well?"
"Haha, funny. Mister Coen, you've got one heck of a problem facing you," said Jack. Joel nodded.
"What happened?"
"Two men escaped from Azkaban a few minutes ago," Jack said gravely.
Joel stared at the man for a few seconds. "Say that again; I don't believe what I just heard."
"Two men escaped from Azkaban a few minutes ago," Jack repeated.
"Jesus Christ."
* * *
"I want apparation nets up right now!" Joel yelled at his coworkers three minutes later. The coworkers nodded, going right to work. "No one should be able to apparate within a three hundred kilometer radius of the Ministry!"
A group of chemists immediately went to work, creating the potion they would release into the air that would not allow apparating.
"I want all units on alert...law enforcement...the Sirs...the Unspeakables....everyone needs to be on alert! We have an emergency situation!" Joel yelled.
"What's going on?" asked a worker.
"Something very bad," Joel replied.
* * *
The day passed. Duke Dingo was sworn in as Minister of Magic at noon of January 1, 2001, on the front steps of the Ministry.
He stepped into his office, the nameplate on the desk saying, for the first time: "Duke Dingo–Minister of Magic."
A group of men stepped into his office, led by Joel Coen. Joel nodded at the Minister, who began to stand.
"What's going on? Duke asked.
"Minister, we have a situation."
* * *
"Help!" Joe yelled, appearing in Max's house the day before, December 31, 2000.
"What?" Max asked, looking very concerned.
"I need somebody...help! Not just any–"
"Shut up with the Beatles, Joe," Nathan ordered.
"No respect for music," Joe said, storming off.
"Anyway," Nathan said, "Max, I think they're gonna put up apparation nets."
"Well...uh...get plane tickets?" Max asked.
"I hate Muggle planes. I hate–" Nathan began.
"They're your only hope, Nathan. I don't want to be this serious, but I have to. There is no other way."
"If this was a novel, we'd be facing each other, staring each other down," Nathan said.
"Yep. We wouldn't be able to agree, and we'd walk away from each other," Max shot back.
"This thing is so...I dunno...unreal..." Nathan said.
There was a general conclusion in the air that the past hour had been completely pointless.
"Hey, uh," Joe said, stepping into the room, "how are we getting to New Orleans?"
"Max, Joe," Nathan said, "here's what we'll be doing."
* * *
"I'm not riding a plane on the first day of the new millennium," Joe said as the taxi brought the trio to Heathrow the next morning.
"Nobody's going to kill us," Nathan assured Joe, grabbing his duffel bag out of the trunk of the taxi.
"Hand me mine," Max told Nathan. Joe paid the cabbie.
The group walked away from the taxi, finally able to discuss their slightly illegal problems in safety.
"Max, it's great to have you coming along," Nathan said. "Of course, you did sorta break us outta jail; so it's kind of like necessary for your own safety."
"Yeah," Max agreed. He opened the glass doors to the airport, opening the way for his companions.
A man with a black suit entered the airport as well.
"Okay," Joe said, rubbing his hands together. "Where can we grab a bite to eat?"
"At O'Connor's," Max replied. "Best restaurant in this place." The group made their way through the bustling crowds, climbed up an escalator, and ate at O'Connor's.
They left about thirty minutes later, their flight leaving in an hour.
"We've gotta go to Customs," Joe said.
"Yep," Max replied. "Follow me."
They made their way behind Max, as did the man in the black suit.
* * *
"Is it just me," Max asked, "or do you feel like you're being followed?"
Nathan and Joe nodded.
"Guess we need to get used to that feeling," Nathan said. The other two nodded in agreement.
"Here we are," Nathan said, "Customs!"
They entered the double doors, their feet stepping on the gray carpet.
"Hello," greeted a woman.
"Hi!" Joe said, smiling. "You look very pretty today."
The woman smiled.
"Flirt," Nathan whispered.
"Shut up," Joe shot back.
"I'm going to have to search you," the woman said. Joe nodded.
"I hope you aren't carrying any weapons, Joe," Max whispered to Joe. Joe chuckled, turning to face his friend.
"Only the necessary ones," he said with a wink.
"Boy, you just met the girl," Nathan said, sounding like Joe's dad.
"Excuse me," said the attendant. She held up her hand. "But I'm taken."
"Jesus, Joe. You seem to have no luck at all, even with women," Max told Joe.
"Now, please hand me your passport," the woman ordered Joe. Joe pulled it out off his pocket.
"Lemme just run this through this computer...okay, you check out fine."
The woman did the same process for the other two men, then pulled out a metal detector.
"Now hold your arms up..." she said sternly. Joe smiled.
"I won't be strip searching you."
* * *
Thirty minutes (and lots of flirting from men) later the three men were out of Customs, heading for their terminal.
"Hey!" yelled a man. The fugitive trio turned around, staring into the eyes of a man in a black business suit.
"What do you want?" Nathan asked, throwing down his duffel bag.
"Name's Guy Ritchie. Come with me."
* * *
The fugitive trio found themselves in a bland room, where everything seemed to be white. The mysterious man stood out sharply against the white.
"All three of you are under arrest. Nathan Talon, Joe Young, I charge you with escaping a prison facility. And you...I don't know you," the man told Max.
"Who are you? You look like a Sir...but I think the Criminal Investigation part of the Ministry should be running after three fugitives," Joe said. "Not that we're whoever you said we are."
"You've got too many pronouns in there, gorilla boy," Guy Ritchie said.
"I'll shove my gorilla fist down your throat, you Sir," Joe replied.
"I think we're being cut out of this conversation," Max interrupted.
"Three's company," Nathan pointed out.
"As I was saying before we were interrupted," Joe said, "I'll shove my gorilla fist down your throat."
"Well, go ahead, pretty boy American," came the response from the man in black.
"Prejudice runs high here," Joe said, jumping on the desk. He kicked Guy Ritchie in the face, leaping on top of him.
"Whoa!" Max said. "Let's not resort to physical confrontation."
"Hey, if Minister Fudge can beat up his shrink, I can beat up people, too," Joe replied to Max.
"He's not Minister anymore," Nathan pointed out.
"True," said Max.
"Shut up!" Guy Ritchie yelled, grabbing Joe's neck. "Take that, gorilla boy."
"You're a Sir," Max said, staying away from the violence.
"Yeah," Nathan said. "You don't care about killing people."
"Why are you even going after us?" Max asked.
"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," Guy replied.
"Allow me," Joe said, gasping for breath.
Max and Nathan stared at each other, nodded, then screamed like warriors in the middle of a battle in ancient Rome.
Nathan twisted his arms around the neck of the Sir, causing the Sir to release his very tight grip of Joe's neck.
"Dang, man," Joe said, getting up and rubbing his neck. "You're like a professional."
"Take his wand," Max said to Nathan. "Erase his memory, knock him out, and put some magical bonds on him. He won't be going anywhere after that."
"That's slightly illegal," Joe said.
"Well, pretty much everything we're doing is illegal," Nathan stated, releasing his grip. He pulled the wand from Guy Ritchie's pocket.
"Is Guy Ritchie that dude's name?" Joe asked, always the clueless one.
"Only if you want it to be," Max said, dragging the body to the wall. He looked at Nathan.
"Do it."
* * *
The group left the office they had just nearly been killed in, acting like everything was fine. (And when you're fugitives on the run going to New Orleans, everything pretty much is fine, as far as you're concerned.
"I say we try to avoid any men we meet who are dressed in black suits," Joe said, switching the hands holding his briefcase.
"The Muggle Mafia tends to dress like that," Nathan pointed out.
"And what do we have to do with the Mafia?" Joe asked.
"Well, I thought it was agreed we would seek underground protection once we got in New Orleans," Max said. "That's how me and Nathan saw it."
"Well, I'm not associating with a Mafia."
"Well, too bad," Nathan said. "They're the best chance for protection we have."
"And besides," Max said with a grin, "they'll make us an offer we can't refuse."
"I didn't get that," Nathan admitted.
"You're the stupidest person I've ever met," Joe told his friend.
* * *
"Hello," Joe said, greeting the woman behind the counter at the gate. Usually these women are ugly, Joe thought. But thank God for flight attendants.
"Here we go again," Max whispered to Nathan.
"I had no idea he was a flirt," Nathan whispered back.
"May I see your boarding passes?" the woman asked.
"What's your name?" Joe asked the woman. "Oh–" he pointed to her chest pocket–"hello, Julianne."
"Are you trying to touch me there?" Julianne asked. "Because if you are, I will kick your sorry American tail back to where it belongs."
"Hey, still bitter over that revolution?" Joe asked. "I'm just trying to make a good impression."
"Joe, you need help," Nathan said quietly.
"Were you just making a Beatles reference?" Joe asked.
"Not at all."
"Excuse me," said Julianne, "but are you discussing the size of my breasts?"
"At least a C," Max thought aloud, covering his mouth quickly.
"That's wishful thinking," Nathan said.
"Give me your tickets now!" Julianne said.
"What are you doing to my girlfriend?" asked a man, stepping up to the desk. He kissed Julianne on the cheek.
"Hello, honey," he said.
"Seth, these men are discussing the size of my...my..." Julianne said, holding up her chest.
"Well, that's one of the many wonderful qualities of your body," Seth said, grabbing Julianne's rear and squeezing it. Julianne laughed, and the two fell out of view.
"I thought I just heard animal sounds," Joe said, dumbfounded.
"That Seth guy stole your wannabe woman," Max remarked.
"Put your–uh!–boarding passes..." Julianne's voice faded away.
Joe, Nathan, and Max all looked at each other and shrugged at the same exact time.
"I guess she means to put 'em on the counter..." Nathan said.
A growl came from the counter.
"Seth's pretty feisty down under," Max said.
Nathan gave Max a look a mother would give her teenage son who had said something wrong.
"No pun intended," Max said, smiling and blushing at the same time.
"Lemme look down there..." Joe said. He poked his head over the counter and immediately turned back to his friends.
"Seth's down under alright." Joe smiled. "No pun intended, of course."
The animal sounds continued for about thirty more minutes.
Julianne popped up, buttoning her shirt. "Now boarding," she said into the microphone.
The fugitives received their boarding passes and left the counter, headed for the plane.
"Boy," Nathan said, "talk about public display of affection."
Author's Note: I, the author, apologize for any bad parts of this fic. And if you are grossed out, TOO BAD!
I, the author, would like to apologize for the horrible writing of this chapter. I, the author, would like to say I hope I entertained you. I, the author, would like to apologize for the long wait.
I, the author, will not run a thank you thing for this chapter. I'm sorry, but the fact is I tend to forget people; and I don't believe reviews should be dedicated to saying "YOU FORGOT ME! I HATE YOU! But good fic anyways..." No offense to Sarah, but this happens in Draco Dormiens/Sinister, and I just don't feel too comfortable about getting reviews like that. (Review the fic, not the author's note.)
Thanks for reading this far! (Keep going...I'm not done yet!
So...hope you enjoyed (you probably didn't) and PLEASE review and spread the word about On the Run if you like it. (Odds are this chapter disappointed beyond belief.) After all, twenty people can't be wrong! (There are probably less readers on Chapter 2...and that means that there will be a reader dropoff to less than ten readers per chapter...BUT I WON'T KNOW BECAUSE THE STATS PAGE IS SCREWED!)
So thanks for reading and hope to see you review! (Hint...hint!)