THE PRETENDER: DRIVEN BY HATRED
Jim Bevan
Note: This is my first attempt at writing any type of fan fiction. I hope that you all like it. I was inspired by the episode "Ghosts from the Past" and wondered how any of the other criminals Jarod brought to justice would react if they met up with their captor again. Enjoy.
CHAPTER I: DIRTY BREAKS
Dawson's Auto & Body Repair
Phoenix, Arizona
The Phoenix night was dark, calm and peacefully quiet throughout most of the city, the serenity absent from some of the bright and noisy all- night businesses. One of these was Dawson's auto repair center, a small garage that had garnered quite a bit of positive fame for its provision of quality auto service 18 hours every day, complete with its own gas station and car wash. A green tow truck pulled into the driveway of the garage, lugging one of their customers behind in a silver Sedan. The truck pulled up to the garage door and came to a halt.
The drivers of both the truck and the Sedan got out and shook hands. "Thanks again for coming to pick me up," said the Sedan's owner, a Hispanic man in his mid-30s, clad in a gray suit and blue tie. "I have to tell you, mi amigo, it's a rare occasion when the people in this city ever bother to help someone else. Even the guys who run it can't depend on too many of them."
"Well, there are always a few exceptions," the tower replied, a handsome man in his early 40s wearing a blue mechanic's outfit. "Me, I'm one of those people who's always there to help those in need. Even members of the city council. Speaking of which, I wish you the best in the election next week, Councilman Galindo."
"Thanks for the support. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to pull off another victory. After five terms on the council, the public knows what a man can do. So, I assume I have your vote mister.?"
"Jarod. Jarod Goodwrench," he replied. "Now, before you say anything, I know the irony of a man named Goodwrench working at a garage. I assure you, it's coincidence." He waved to a man standing by one of the gas pumps. "Chris will get your car in the garage and we'll have it fixed in no time. Meanwhile, why don't you get comfortable, watch a little TV, and relax." With that, Jarod led the councilman into the main office while Chris and two other men began leading the defunct car into the garage.
Martin Galindo laid back on the couch in the garage's waiting room, thumbing his way through the latest copy of Maxim. He was quite relaxed. After a six-hour council meeting that was more boring than the usual ones, and then a car that gave out on him before he could get home, a little thing like this was more than welcome. As he chuckled at the latest reader- submitted jokes, he was disrupted by a tap on his shoulder. He looked over and peered at the middle-aged black woman standing over him. "Mr. Galindo, your car has been fixed. It's in the garage, so you can get it whenever you wish to."
"I'll be right there, Mrs. Dawson," he responded. "Just let me finish this page." The woman and also owner of the garage, Jasmine Dawson, gave him a peculiar look before heading out. Galindo snickered at a few more of the jokes, then tossed the magazine onto the table and got off the couch, following the owner.
In the garage, the sounds of wrenches, drills, sparks and chatting workers resonated with a nearly musical rhythm. Rachel led Galindo over to the lift where Jarod was busy wiping grease and oil off of his hands. "Well, we fixed the problem sir," he said, tossing the oily rag aside. "Your oil tank was punctured. It was a considerably small hole, but enough to drain the tank dry." He pointed to the car raised up on the lift. "Pretty nasty, if you want my opinion."
"Ay, Dios mio!" Galindo uttered in frustration. "How the hell did my tank break? I didn't drive over anything."
"It's a mystery, I'll admit," Jarod said. "But I identified the cause. Someone used a corrosive compound to eat away through the tank. It was small enough to allow for a gradual leak, so your car would give out while driving."
"All kinds of crazy sons of bitches in this world," Galindo said, a tinge of anger still in his voice. "What kind of loon would do something like this."
"Actually, it was no loon. It was me. I put it on before the council meeting let out for the day." Galindo turned and looked at Jarod oddly after hearing this. Unfortunately, his distraction enabled Rachel to grab him from behind, securing the councilman firmly. As Galindo struggled in the woman's strong grasp, Jarod got a pair of jumper cables from a work drawer and used them to tie his arms together behind his back.
"Hey, what the hell kind of game is this?" Galindo asked in anger.
"Oh, it's no game," Jarod said, "But I certainly am having fun. Hopefully you will too." He pushed him over to the lift area and tipped him over, letting him fall face forward on the ground. Rachel brought over another pair of jumper cables and handed them to Jarod, which he used to tie Galindo's legs together.
"Are you sure this is all right, Jarod?" she asked, her voice quivering with apprehension. "I mean, I know what the guy did, but can we really do something like this?"
"Believe me, Rachel, a man like this deserves it," he responded. He went over to Galindo's twitching body and rolled him under the lift.
"What's all this about," Galindo shouted, still writhing in a futile effort to get out of his binds. "I never did anything to you. I never did anything to anyone! I don't deserve this treatment!"
"You're wrong, Martin, you do deserve this, because you did something horrible," Jarod said, his voice taking on a harsh tone. "You said that after five terms, the public knows what a man can do. You're wrong, because the public doesn't know how you killed a little boy."
"I don't know what you're talking about!"
"Of course you do, councilman. You remember last month, you were driving home after a particularly hard day of work, and a night of particularly hard drinking, you ran over a seven-year-old boy in the street. His dog got away from him, he went after it, but he was right in your path, and you were too drunk to react in time. But your mind was still functioning well enough to process what had happened after you hit him. That if anyone knew of this it would ruin your career. So you drove off, left him to die."
"You're crazy! You can't prove any of that!"
"No, but there was proof available. After you hit the boy, the fender of your car was damaged and a headlight broke. You needed it repaired, so you came here. Then you bribed Mrs. Dawson and her crew to cover it up, hide the report of the repair so the hit-and-run couldn't be traced back to you."
"I'm still ashamed that I took that money," Rachel said, a tear forming at her eye. "I didn't let anyone know, and I denied that boy's family justice. But now I know what I need to do. I'll gladly testify under oath that you bribed me. It won't ease my guilt, but I'll be happy to know that poor boy's parents will have some comfort in knowing who killed their son."
"This is insane. As soon as I'm out of here I'll have you two in prison! Neither of you will see daylight until you're in your 90s!" Galindo shouted, the fury in his voice rising.
"Sorry Martin, I don't really respond well to threats," Jarod said. "I can see you're going to make this difficult, so it seems we'll have to resort to some more drastic measures. Chris, bring her down." Following the command, Chris pulled a lever on the wall, and the car on the lift slowly lowered. "Now, since you won't do the noble thing and admit your guilt, I'm afraid you'll have to be punished."
"Hey! Hey! You can't do this you son of a bitch!" he shouted, fear mixing with the rage in his voice. His eyes widened in horror at the sight of the descending car. "I'm a very powerful person! I've done great things for this city!"
"That may be, but I don't think it will matter much when you're dead," Jarod chimed in. "Hope this won't hurt your chances at re-election."
"Somebody, somebody stop this car! Help me!" Galindo shouted, looking at the workers in the garage. Not one of them made a move, they just looked at the frightened man struggling in his cables. He looked up again at the car, noticing how much closer it was to his body. He was desperately fearing for his life, and panic took control of his brain. He had to do something to survive, and there was one option that he felt would save him. It didn't matter what would happen to him afterwards, as long as he was alive. "All right! It's all true! I had been drinking, I hit the kid, I paid Dawson, I did everything you said because I couldn't lose my position!" By now he was sobbing hysterically. "Please, please just let me go. I'll give you anything you want, just don't kill me."
"Oh, you've given us everything we need already," Jarod said, smiling. Rachel nodded and pulled a recorder out of her pocket. "And everything the police need as well. Chris, you can stop it now." Chris hit the lever again and the lift stopped, leaving the car only a foot above Galindo. He turned to Rachel with a look of satisfaction. "Thanks for your help, Rachel."
"Thank you for yours, Jarod," she replied, giving him a little kiss on the cheek. "I'll go call the police and tell them to come over. I hope that God can forgive me now for what I did."
"I'm sure he has, Rachel. You're a good woman, and I know that if your husband was still around he'd be proud of you." As she headed toward the door, she was stopped by a request from Jarod. "Oh Rachel, before they come, mind if I use your car wash? There's a little scum I need to clean up." He looked at Galindo, a sinister smile on his lips.
The police were at Dawson's garage in 20 minutes. Many of them couldn't help but laugh at Galindo, drenched with soapy water after a deluxe wash. The jumper cables that bound his hands had been exchanged for a pair of metal handcuffs, and Rachel had given the chief the tape with his confession. As he was led away to the squad car, Galindo glared at Jarod, currently laughing at his latest quarry, with a gleam of murderous hatred in his eyes.
"I really hope that some day you'll suffer for this, you miserable bastard," he shouted. "Who gave you the right to pass judgement over others?! Everything would have been fine if you'd have just stayed out of this!" Before the police shut him in the car, he pointed a finger at Jarod. "Go ahead and laugh now, act like an avenging angel, but keep this up and pretty soon somebody's gonna come back and give you what you deserve. I pray I'm there to see it when it happens." Galindo was placed in the car and driven off.
"Once again I have to say thanks," Rachel said. "And I'm sorry you have to leave. You were a great asset to the garage. We're all going to miss you."
"Well it pains me to leave, but that's kind of how my life is." He gave Rachel a hug and headed towards his own car. "I'll miss you two Rachel, and I wish you the best." Jarod got in his car and drove off into the night. He always regretted this part, leaving behind his friends. Sure, he kept in touch with them, but all his running never gave him the opportunity for any real long-lasting friendships. He sighed dejectedly, and then considered what Galindo had said. In his travels he'd made as many enemies as he had friends, and he knew that many of them would be out for his blood if they had the opportunity. He flashed back on a few of them: Efram Bartlett, who'd nearly killed him twice in the south; Lester Carlson, the bomb-squad member he'd arrested for setting his own explosives to gain publicity; Captain Prentis McClarenn, who was exposed for killing a fellow soldier in Vietnam; Jack Brevins, the parole officer who used ex-cons in his own robbery scam. There were many more, but Jarod doubted that any of them would have a chance to extract revenge. They'd be in jail for a long time, rotting thanks to the confessions he extracted from them. He put thoughts of his old captures behind him and continued his drive, wondering where to go next. Who else would need the help of the "Avenging Angel?"
Jim Bevan
Note: This is my first attempt at writing any type of fan fiction. I hope that you all like it. I was inspired by the episode "Ghosts from the Past" and wondered how any of the other criminals Jarod brought to justice would react if they met up with their captor again. Enjoy.
CHAPTER I: DIRTY BREAKS
Dawson's Auto & Body Repair
Phoenix, Arizona
The Phoenix night was dark, calm and peacefully quiet throughout most of the city, the serenity absent from some of the bright and noisy all- night businesses. One of these was Dawson's auto repair center, a small garage that had garnered quite a bit of positive fame for its provision of quality auto service 18 hours every day, complete with its own gas station and car wash. A green tow truck pulled into the driveway of the garage, lugging one of their customers behind in a silver Sedan. The truck pulled up to the garage door and came to a halt.
The drivers of both the truck and the Sedan got out and shook hands. "Thanks again for coming to pick me up," said the Sedan's owner, a Hispanic man in his mid-30s, clad in a gray suit and blue tie. "I have to tell you, mi amigo, it's a rare occasion when the people in this city ever bother to help someone else. Even the guys who run it can't depend on too many of them."
"Well, there are always a few exceptions," the tower replied, a handsome man in his early 40s wearing a blue mechanic's outfit. "Me, I'm one of those people who's always there to help those in need. Even members of the city council. Speaking of which, I wish you the best in the election next week, Councilman Galindo."
"Thanks for the support. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to pull off another victory. After five terms on the council, the public knows what a man can do. So, I assume I have your vote mister.?"
"Jarod. Jarod Goodwrench," he replied. "Now, before you say anything, I know the irony of a man named Goodwrench working at a garage. I assure you, it's coincidence." He waved to a man standing by one of the gas pumps. "Chris will get your car in the garage and we'll have it fixed in no time. Meanwhile, why don't you get comfortable, watch a little TV, and relax." With that, Jarod led the councilman into the main office while Chris and two other men began leading the defunct car into the garage.
Martin Galindo laid back on the couch in the garage's waiting room, thumbing his way through the latest copy of Maxim. He was quite relaxed. After a six-hour council meeting that was more boring than the usual ones, and then a car that gave out on him before he could get home, a little thing like this was more than welcome. As he chuckled at the latest reader- submitted jokes, he was disrupted by a tap on his shoulder. He looked over and peered at the middle-aged black woman standing over him. "Mr. Galindo, your car has been fixed. It's in the garage, so you can get it whenever you wish to."
"I'll be right there, Mrs. Dawson," he responded. "Just let me finish this page." The woman and also owner of the garage, Jasmine Dawson, gave him a peculiar look before heading out. Galindo snickered at a few more of the jokes, then tossed the magazine onto the table and got off the couch, following the owner.
In the garage, the sounds of wrenches, drills, sparks and chatting workers resonated with a nearly musical rhythm. Rachel led Galindo over to the lift where Jarod was busy wiping grease and oil off of his hands. "Well, we fixed the problem sir," he said, tossing the oily rag aside. "Your oil tank was punctured. It was a considerably small hole, but enough to drain the tank dry." He pointed to the car raised up on the lift. "Pretty nasty, if you want my opinion."
"Ay, Dios mio!" Galindo uttered in frustration. "How the hell did my tank break? I didn't drive over anything."
"It's a mystery, I'll admit," Jarod said. "But I identified the cause. Someone used a corrosive compound to eat away through the tank. It was small enough to allow for a gradual leak, so your car would give out while driving."
"All kinds of crazy sons of bitches in this world," Galindo said, a tinge of anger still in his voice. "What kind of loon would do something like this."
"Actually, it was no loon. It was me. I put it on before the council meeting let out for the day." Galindo turned and looked at Jarod oddly after hearing this. Unfortunately, his distraction enabled Rachel to grab him from behind, securing the councilman firmly. As Galindo struggled in the woman's strong grasp, Jarod got a pair of jumper cables from a work drawer and used them to tie his arms together behind his back.
"Hey, what the hell kind of game is this?" Galindo asked in anger.
"Oh, it's no game," Jarod said, "But I certainly am having fun. Hopefully you will too." He pushed him over to the lift area and tipped him over, letting him fall face forward on the ground. Rachel brought over another pair of jumper cables and handed them to Jarod, which he used to tie Galindo's legs together.
"Are you sure this is all right, Jarod?" she asked, her voice quivering with apprehension. "I mean, I know what the guy did, but can we really do something like this?"
"Believe me, Rachel, a man like this deserves it," he responded. He went over to Galindo's twitching body and rolled him under the lift.
"What's all this about," Galindo shouted, still writhing in a futile effort to get out of his binds. "I never did anything to you. I never did anything to anyone! I don't deserve this treatment!"
"You're wrong, Martin, you do deserve this, because you did something horrible," Jarod said, his voice taking on a harsh tone. "You said that after five terms, the public knows what a man can do. You're wrong, because the public doesn't know how you killed a little boy."
"I don't know what you're talking about!"
"Of course you do, councilman. You remember last month, you were driving home after a particularly hard day of work, and a night of particularly hard drinking, you ran over a seven-year-old boy in the street. His dog got away from him, he went after it, but he was right in your path, and you were too drunk to react in time. But your mind was still functioning well enough to process what had happened after you hit him. That if anyone knew of this it would ruin your career. So you drove off, left him to die."
"You're crazy! You can't prove any of that!"
"No, but there was proof available. After you hit the boy, the fender of your car was damaged and a headlight broke. You needed it repaired, so you came here. Then you bribed Mrs. Dawson and her crew to cover it up, hide the report of the repair so the hit-and-run couldn't be traced back to you."
"I'm still ashamed that I took that money," Rachel said, a tear forming at her eye. "I didn't let anyone know, and I denied that boy's family justice. But now I know what I need to do. I'll gladly testify under oath that you bribed me. It won't ease my guilt, but I'll be happy to know that poor boy's parents will have some comfort in knowing who killed their son."
"This is insane. As soon as I'm out of here I'll have you two in prison! Neither of you will see daylight until you're in your 90s!" Galindo shouted, the fury in his voice rising.
"Sorry Martin, I don't really respond well to threats," Jarod said. "I can see you're going to make this difficult, so it seems we'll have to resort to some more drastic measures. Chris, bring her down." Following the command, Chris pulled a lever on the wall, and the car on the lift slowly lowered. "Now, since you won't do the noble thing and admit your guilt, I'm afraid you'll have to be punished."
"Hey! Hey! You can't do this you son of a bitch!" he shouted, fear mixing with the rage in his voice. His eyes widened in horror at the sight of the descending car. "I'm a very powerful person! I've done great things for this city!"
"That may be, but I don't think it will matter much when you're dead," Jarod chimed in. "Hope this won't hurt your chances at re-election."
"Somebody, somebody stop this car! Help me!" Galindo shouted, looking at the workers in the garage. Not one of them made a move, they just looked at the frightened man struggling in his cables. He looked up again at the car, noticing how much closer it was to his body. He was desperately fearing for his life, and panic took control of his brain. He had to do something to survive, and there was one option that he felt would save him. It didn't matter what would happen to him afterwards, as long as he was alive. "All right! It's all true! I had been drinking, I hit the kid, I paid Dawson, I did everything you said because I couldn't lose my position!" By now he was sobbing hysterically. "Please, please just let me go. I'll give you anything you want, just don't kill me."
"Oh, you've given us everything we need already," Jarod said, smiling. Rachel nodded and pulled a recorder out of her pocket. "And everything the police need as well. Chris, you can stop it now." Chris hit the lever again and the lift stopped, leaving the car only a foot above Galindo. He turned to Rachel with a look of satisfaction. "Thanks for your help, Rachel."
"Thank you for yours, Jarod," she replied, giving him a little kiss on the cheek. "I'll go call the police and tell them to come over. I hope that God can forgive me now for what I did."
"I'm sure he has, Rachel. You're a good woman, and I know that if your husband was still around he'd be proud of you." As she headed toward the door, she was stopped by a request from Jarod. "Oh Rachel, before they come, mind if I use your car wash? There's a little scum I need to clean up." He looked at Galindo, a sinister smile on his lips.
The police were at Dawson's garage in 20 minutes. Many of them couldn't help but laugh at Galindo, drenched with soapy water after a deluxe wash. The jumper cables that bound his hands had been exchanged for a pair of metal handcuffs, and Rachel had given the chief the tape with his confession. As he was led away to the squad car, Galindo glared at Jarod, currently laughing at his latest quarry, with a gleam of murderous hatred in his eyes.
"I really hope that some day you'll suffer for this, you miserable bastard," he shouted. "Who gave you the right to pass judgement over others?! Everything would have been fine if you'd have just stayed out of this!" Before the police shut him in the car, he pointed a finger at Jarod. "Go ahead and laugh now, act like an avenging angel, but keep this up and pretty soon somebody's gonna come back and give you what you deserve. I pray I'm there to see it when it happens." Galindo was placed in the car and driven off.
"Once again I have to say thanks," Rachel said. "And I'm sorry you have to leave. You were a great asset to the garage. We're all going to miss you."
"Well it pains me to leave, but that's kind of how my life is." He gave Rachel a hug and headed towards his own car. "I'll miss you two Rachel, and I wish you the best." Jarod got in his car and drove off into the night. He always regretted this part, leaving behind his friends. Sure, he kept in touch with them, but all his running never gave him the opportunity for any real long-lasting friendships. He sighed dejectedly, and then considered what Galindo had said. In his travels he'd made as many enemies as he had friends, and he knew that many of them would be out for his blood if they had the opportunity. He flashed back on a few of them: Efram Bartlett, who'd nearly killed him twice in the south; Lester Carlson, the bomb-squad member he'd arrested for setting his own explosives to gain publicity; Captain Prentis McClarenn, who was exposed for killing a fellow soldier in Vietnam; Jack Brevins, the parole officer who used ex-cons in his own robbery scam. There were many more, but Jarod doubted that any of them would have a chance to extract revenge. They'd be in jail for a long time, rotting thanks to the confessions he extracted from them. He put thoughts of his old captures behind him and continued his drive, wondering where to go next. Who else would need the help of the "Avenging Angel?"
