The Crane and the Falcon
Chapter XII
Halfmoonglasses - Hey, glad you liked! And I was hoping I got Crane in character, but left enough to your imagination too…Wow, I never expected everyone to like Sakura so easily, I was ready to defend her from insults of Mary Sue-ness …
But thank you, Katherine, for pointing out that the drugs make her more believable. We learn more about her past habits in this chapter.
"They wouldn't dare."
Sakura glanced down into her mirror, seeing the police cars stop at the bridge. One even ventured forward for a moment before they all scattered away. She could see the blue and red lights disappearing over the other side of the river and the sirens died away. "Call your man," she said, turning the car down a dark street lined by crooked apartments. Jonathan's eyes stared out into the blackness of Narrows.
"What?" Again, Jonathan wasn't paying attention to what Sakura was saying.
She rolled her eyes and tossed him a cell phone, "Call your man. Tell him to go to the second drop." Jonathan felt the phone hit his lap and lowered his eyes. It was a design he didn't recognize, flat, black, and rectangular. Probably a stolen prototype. "It's in the Latin Quarter, the old Catholic church."
"Right," he muttered, flipping open the phone and punching in the number of the man picking up the drugs. He repeated what Sakura had said before handing the phone back to her. The car had now slowed to a halt in the middle of the street. The only light came from the glowing dashboard and the one unbroken streetlight a little down the way. Jonathan hadn't noticed the music had died away. His eyes flew back to the window as he stared out at a particularly dilapidated building with shabby shutters and grimy windows.
Sakura followed his gaze and was silent for a moment. She could sense something was amiss and could see foggy memories welling in Jonathan's eyes. "Bad memories?" she asked with a hint of compassion in her smooth voice.
He didn't answer for a moment. "Drop me off at Arkham. I have work to do."
--
Sakura took the back route to Arkham, and could see the looming entrance to the basement parking garage. The car ran almost silently, making barely a ripple of sound in the empty garage. She maneuvered the car onto the ramp leading to the floor above, but she stopped halfway up the concrete slope, eyes frozen. "Damn," she swore.
Jonathan's head snapped up to see the familiar red and blue lights floating over the concrete dividing the garage from the street. He could clearly see the sharp outlines of police running back and forth. "Go back down," he muttered, eyes still straight ahead. Sakura nodded, and put the car in reverse, silently cursing herself for using a bright red Aston Martin to oversee drug running. "Get out," he continued, hand straying to the handle of his own door.
But Sakura eyed him sharply. "Trust me," he said, eyes meeting hers. She nodded, and the both got out of their seats. "Let me drive." They both rounded the car and slid into each other's seats without a word.
"You sure as hell better have a plan," Sakura spat, slinking down in the passenger seat.
"Don't worry, I do." He carefully drove the car past the ramp and into the blackness of the underground parking garage. The headlights of the Aston Martin pierced the darkness and Jonathan could just see a guard's booth where a sentinel sat inside sleeping. He jumped to attention as the Aston Martin crawled passed, but, seeing Dr. Crane, simply waved and nodded off back to sleep. "Alright, my spot's up ahead. If we can make it to my office, we'll be home free."
He parked the car with the utmost care, making sure not to bang the door on concrete wall lining his parking spot. Sakura, on the other hand, showed no such care and Crane winced at the sound of metal tearing on concrete. A smear of red paint would stay on the wall for months afterwards. "What happens if they pay your office a visit?" She kept her door open and leaned in, opening up the glove compartment.
"I'll be prepared."
Sakura snatched two handguns out of the car before slamming the door. She tossed one to Jonathan, who caught it clumsily. "Here's to being prepared," she said sarcastically.
--
"Now, you'll have to pretend to be a patient of mine. I do some psychiatric work on the side, and I'll just say an appointment ran late. You'll-."
"Pray they don't see my face?" she offered, an eyebrow raised. Jonathan smirked and nodded. "Even if they do, it'll take a lot of guts to finger me and the whole police force combined has less guts than road kill," she sighed. They continued walking, their footsteps echoing off the cement until they reached the steel-enforced elevator. Jonathan removed a key from his pocket and inserted it. He watched Sakura out of the corner of his eye as she calmly lit herself another cigarette. Nothing seemed to frazzle her. But something had to. Everyone had their fears. And Jonathan intended to find out those of Sakura Falcone.
With a ding, the elevator door opened without a word and Jonathan set off down the corridor. Sakura fought to keep up with his long strides as he navigated the back halls of Arkham. Her Japanese-styled hair rippled as they ascended a short flight of stairs and Jonathan pulled a set of keys from his pocket and opened the door. He held it opened for her, and as she passed, he couldn't help but catch the scent of Sakura's enthralling perfume. His eyelids fluttered, but his thoughts dispersed as quickly as they came.
"Sit," he said, motioning to the cliché couch set diagonally in the corner of the room. A leather arm chair was placed adjacent and Crane snatched a notepad and pen off his desk. Sakura took a seat, but instead of lying back, she sat cross-legged facing the armchair. "Alright, I'm sure the police are on their way. Any investigations start with the Director, namely, me," he said with a slight air of arrogance.
Sakura rolled her eyes and nodded. "So what, are you going to start analyzing me?"
"Well, I'll need something for my notes, in case they begin a physical investigation with my office." He decided to shock her into submission and jumped right into the therapy. "I understand you are addicted to adrenaline?"
She looked puzzled and straightened slightly. "I beg your pardon?"
"You're an adrenaline junkie. You thrive on adrenaline and to get, for lack of a better word, your fix, you force adrenaline with risky behavior, i.e. dangerous driving and illegal activities."
The woman shifted uncomfortably, wondering when the police would be knocking on Crane's door. But she recovered quickly. "That makes sense. I've had addictions since I was fifteen, but this adrenaline your talking about seems to be my least dangerous." She didn't care about her drug-seeped past and decided it would set Crane off on a field day of interrogation she didn't mind submitting to.
"Oh?" He jotted down a note on his paper. "And those would be?"
"Well, I've been smoking since I was thirteen, I did cocaine from the time I was fifteen to nineteen, then I was sent to rehab. It was in college when I started on heroine. My uncle sent me to rehab again, and I've been clean ever since," she said in one breath, pulling a cigarette from her purse. She lit one and took a drag with calm eyes. "I think that about covers it."
Jonathan cleared his throat and crossed his legs, jotting down every word she said. "That's- that's," for a moment he was at a loss for words, but the beating on the door made him stop and stand.
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OMG HONORS ALGEBRA 2 SUCKS