Chapter Six
Disclaimer: Ehem, yes . . . Don't sue; I know they're not mine (duh).
Author's Note: as this story required some knowledge of American geography, I had to go and find an atlas before I could continue it. Sorry, they didn't teach us about the world at my school, they were too busy trying to convince us that there was a reason behind complex numbers.
Broot's fingers tapped rapidly at the keyboard as he tried to ignore Lyle who was breathing threateningly down his neck. He knew that Parker's disappearance a few days ago was linked to Jarod but Lyle didn't. So far Parker's absence hadn't dulled Lyle's enthusiasm for the hunt.
Unfortunately for Sydney and Broots, it seemed Jarod had gotten a little careless. A rental car, driven from the city where they had last lost him to Philadelphia, had been paid for out of the same bank account that had financed bus tickets to New York.
Lyle had already ordered a sweeper team to the hotel where Jarod (and Miss Parker) had stayed in Philadelphia. He had rightfully assumed that Jarod had already left though and was currently pressuring Broots to find Jarod's address in New York.
To Broots' dismay, he was succeeding. It seemed Jarod had been in New York before and had put a prominent underworld figure in jail. He had recently been released. Someone fitting Jarod's description had been spotted around the New York area. All Broots had to do now was to find Jarod's exact address . . .
*****************************
As soon as both Jarod and Parker were disarmed, six men moved in, warily keeping their weapons trained on the duo. Two each held their arms while the third frisked them. Parker's gun had been her only weapon and she assumed the same for Jarod. She was wrong. Their search pulled up one dagger, two throwing knives and a set of lock picks. She shot him a meaningful look, which he ignored.
Once he was sure they were safely contained the mob boss moved forward along with the rest of his gang until Parker and Jarod were the centre of a tight circle facing the large man. One of the gangsters picked up their guns and handed them to the boss.
'You didn't really think you could get away with snitching did you Jarod?' He asked amiably. Jarod didn't answer, he just stood straight and dignified, yet bristling with malevolence. Parker found her fear turning into anger but she kept silent with an effort and followed Jarod's lead.
'So who's your girlfriend?' asked the boss, strolling in a circle around them.
'Leave her alone.' Jarod growled dangerously, still not struggling with his captors. 'Ah ah, be nice.' Replied the man and hit Parker hard on the back of the head with Jarod's gun. She slumped into unconsciousness and Jarod roared. He jerked forward nearly freeing his arms, then kicked out violently towards the evilly laughing man.
The mob boss just smiled and let him rage for a few seconds then gestured to one of the gunmen standing behind Jarod and the now unconscious Parker. Jarod quickly joined Parker on the ground.
************************
Consciousness hit Jarod like a four-ton truck. For a moment he couldn't remember who or where he was. He opened his eyes and the world spun rapidly into focus with a sound like a crowd of people all loudly competing for his attention. The noises slid away and his ribs began to pound in time to his head and his leg.
Groaning, Jarod rolled over onto his other side, only to feel something pull tight against his left wrist. He blinked, trying to clear his still spinning vision then looked down to where he was handcuffed to a very solid looking metal pipe that was bolted into the concrete wall.
He shuffled himself closer to the pipe to give himself some slack then rolled onto his back, gasping at the pain such simple actions bought him. It seemed that the mob boss hadn't been satisfied with just knocking him on the head.
Then he remembered; Parker had been with him. He raised his head and desperately scanned the inside of the building they were in. She was lying a few feet away, unconscious. He relaxed somewhat, seeing that she was still breathing.
Lowering his head back onto the cold floor, he felt the lock of the handcuffs with his right hand. If had been filled with something that felt like dried chewing gum. That was bad. He wouldn't be able to pick that too easily.
Letting out a heavy sigh and ignoring the burning pain it caused, he pulled himself upright with the pipe and studied his surroundings.
They appeared to be in the lobby of a large but not particularly fancy hotel. Dust covered everything. There was no furniture except for that which was impossible to remove. The floor was concrete but it looked like it had once been covered with carpet or rugs now removed. Several large square pillars rose to the ceiling far above. There was a bomb sitting in next to where the front desk would have been.
'A bomb sitting in next to where the front desk would have been.' Thought Jarod muzzily, 'a bomb sitting in next to where the front desk would have been.' He knew there was something wrong with this. 'Oh, yes . . .' he thought, 'I'm going to die.'
TBC . . . I'm sorry I haven't written for a while; the evil techs at my school stole our computers and wiped our hard drives (it was a power trip) and I barely managed to escape with my stories.
Disclaimer: Ehem, yes . . . Don't sue; I know they're not mine (duh).
Author's Note: as this story required some knowledge of American geography, I had to go and find an atlas before I could continue it. Sorry, they didn't teach us about the world at my school, they were too busy trying to convince us that there was a reason behind complex numbers.
Broot's fingers tapped rapidly at the keyboard as he tried to ignore Lyle who was breathing threateningly down his neck. He knew that Parker's disappearance a few days ago was linked to Jarod but Lyle didn't. So far Parker's absence hadn't dulled Lyle's enthusiasm for the hunt.
Unfortunately for Sydney and Broots, it seemed Jarod had gotten a little careless. A rental car, driven from the city where they had last lost him to Philadelphia, had been paid for out of the same bank account that had financed bus tickets to New York.
Lyle had already ordered a sweeper team to the hotel where Jarod (and Miss Parker) had stayed in Philadelphia. He had rightfully assumed that Jarod had already left though and was currently pressuring Broots to find Jarod's address in New York.
To Broots' dismay, he was succeeding. It seemed Jarod had been in New York before and had put a prominent underworld figure in jail. He had recently been released. Someone fitting Jarod's description had been spotted around the New York area. All Broots had to do now was to find Jarod's exact address . . .
*****************************
As soon as both Jarod and Parker were disarmed, six men moved in, warily keeping their weapons trained on the duo. Two each held their arms while the third frisked them. Parker's gun had been her only weapon and she assumed the same for Jarod. She was wrong. Their search pulled up one dagger, two throwing knives and a set of lock picks. She shot him a meaningful look, which he ignored.
Once he was sure they were safely contained the mob boss moved forward along with the rest of his gang until Parker and Jarod were the centre of a tight circle facing the large man. One of the gangsters picked up their guns and handed them to the boss.
'You didn't really think you could get away with snitching did you Jarod?' He asked amiably. Jarod didn't answer, he just stood straight and dignified, yet bristling with malevolence. Parker found her fear turning into anger but she kept silent with an effort and followed Jarod's lead.
'So who's your girlfriend?' asked the boss, strolling in a circle around them.
'Leave her alone.' Jarod growled dangerously, still not struggling with his captors. 'Ah ah, be nice.' Replied the man and hit Parker hard on the back of the head with Jarod's gun. She slumped into unconsciousness and Jarod roared. He jerked forward nearly freeing his arms, then kicked out violently towards the evilly laughing man.
The mob boss just smiled and let him rage for a few seconds then gestured to one of the gunmen standing behind Jarod and the now unconscious Parker. Jarod quickly joined Parker on the ground.
************************
Consciousness hit Jarod like a four-ton truck. For a moment he couldn't remember who or where he was. He opened his eyes and the world spun rapidly into focus with a sound like a crowd of people all loudly competing for his attention. The noises slid away and his ribs began to pound in time to his head and his leg.
Groaning, Jarod rolled over onto his other side, only to feel something pull tight against his left wrist. He blinked, trying to clear his still spinning vision then looked down to where he was handcuffed to a very solid looking metal pipe that was bolted into the concrete wall.
He shuffled himself closer to the pipe to give himself some slack then rolled onto his back, gasping at the pain such simple actions bought him. It seemed that the mob boss hadn't been satisfied with just knocking him on the head.
Then he remembered; Parker had been with him. He raised his head and desperately scanned the inside of the building they were in. She was lying a few feet away, unconscious. He relaxed somewhat, seeing that she was still breathing.
Lowering his head back onto the cold floor, he felt the lock of the handcuffs with his right hand. If had been filled with something that felt like dried chewing gum. That was bad. He wouldn't be able to pick that too easily.
Letting out a heavy sigh and ignoring the burning pain it caused, he pulled himself upright with the pipe and studied his surroundings.
They appeared to be in the lobby of a large but not particularly fancy hotel. Dust covered everything. There was no furniture except for that which was impossible to remove. The floor was concrete but it looked like it had once been covered with carpet or rugs now removed. Several large square pillars rose to the ceiling far above. There was a bomb sitting in next to where the front desk would have been.
'A bomb sitting in next to where the front desk would have been.' Thought Jarod muzzily, 'a bomb sitting in next to where the front desk would have been.' He knew there was something wrong with this. 'Oh, yes . . .' he thought, 'I'm going to die.'
TBC . . . I'm sorry I haven't written for a while; the evil techs at my school stole our computers and wiped our hard drives (it was a power trip) and I barely managed to escape with my stories.
