Authors note: thanks for sticking around. There are a lot of old songs bouncing around this chapter, here's the list for reference:
Banditos - the Refreshments
Don't Bring me Down - ELO
Goodbye Stranger - Supertramp
Maniac - Michael Sembelo (from soundtrack to Flashdance)
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ Chapter 5
"What are you guys waiting for? This is starting to stink. Man, if you don't clean it up, I'm probably gonna barf again. And then when I get sick, you'll get sick," he made eye contact with someone off screen, "and everybody will start vomiting. I'll be like Chunk from the Goonies, but with real vomit." Jack flashed a very satisfied smirk, "second thought, I like that idea. Go ahead and leave it there. I wanna see that happen."
He spit again, blood from his nose still dripping over his lips. "Y'all got some water? I really could use a drink. Anything actually, I just want to rinse this taste out of my mouth, unless we're in Mexico, then I don't want to drink the water. A Coke? That would be good. Those Mexican Cokes in the glass bottle with the real sugar. Damn, those are good, I could go for a really cold one of those right now. Are we in Mexico?" Jack paused his babbling hoping for a response one way or another to help the Phoenix kids with a location. Judging from their lack of response, he deduced they were not in Mexico, so he pressed on with the topic so his captors would think he was sending his people to Mexico. "So we are in Mexico!" Jack acted excited to have solved a puzzle.
"Can we get one with some Jim Beam or something in it? Damn, I could use a Coke right now. I mean we could get one from the gas station across the street from my apartment, but y'all knew that since you obviously know where I live. How long have you been watching me? That's real creepy. You saw me in my underwear, watching Golden Girls, jerking off? Most middle aged guys like me go for the younger girls, barely legal, 19 years old. Dude, that's creepy. I like 'em old, like super old. I want the curtains to match the carpet, and all of it to be white." He paused for a moment, remembering his audience, "I'm kidding! I like chicks BORN in the '70s not IN their 70s." He made eye contact with someone off screen. "Not sure bout you though, bro? I can tell you like them grannies." He laughed harder, having difficulty getting the words out through giggles. "I bet you had a thing with Lurch over there's grandma. I saw him give you the stink eye. Y'all have history."
Mac got right back on track with the hints Jack was throwing. "Riley, check and see if it says who runs with or is affiliated with Mr. Velasquez there. Someone over 40, maybe even family."
"Yep, looks like Velasquez was arrested once with this dude," Riley stated as she sent a picture of an older man, "He's apparently one of Sancola's OGs, his right hand man. Damn, Jack, you just told us that you're with El Noche's 2nd in command without even letting them know you knew...or something. You know what I'm trying to say." She continued to check the record when let out a frustrated huff, "this guy has never been in Las Cruces as far as this record shows. But then again, El Noche's number two probably doesn't have to get his hands as dirty, giving the orders instead of carrying them out."
"The team will be landing in less than 5, they'll clear those four buildings and get back if we're hit a dead end. Find us another location, Riley, just in case."
"I'm trying, he's a little more slippery. Looks like he has a semi permanent residence near Reno and another just outside Phoenix and another in Tijuana. Looks like Lurch has left a footprint in those three cities too."
Mac interjected, "Jack established that they're not in Mexico, so if they're not actually in Las Cruces, which city should they check next? We can't rule out San Diego either due to its proximity to Mexico and the cartel's presence there." He needed to narrow down the location a little more. "Jack's been watching these guys off screen, but there's only so much information he can get from that."
Mac couldn't wait for more information, he needed to act. He walked out of the war room again and toward the bathroom. He went inside for a minute to wait and checked to see if he was followed. No one was waiting for him outside the bathroom door this time, so he snuck around the wall toward the stairs to the parking garage.
When Mac got to his Jeep, Bozer was already waiting for him there blocking the driver side door.
"I know what you're doing, Mac, and you can't."
"I'm not doing anything, Boze, that's the problem."
"Well I'm definitely not letting you turn yourself in to the cartel. I know that's what you're going to do."
"Well until I do, you and Riley and Matty are all in danger. I need to turn myself in and maybe you can be safe. Maybe they'll let Jack go."
Bozer grabbed his roommate's shoulders, trying to reason with him, "You know as well as I do that they aren't going to let Jack go. And if you give up, Jack will never forgive you."
"I doubt he has a lot of time left to be mad at me for that." Mac grumbled, defeated.
"He will take as much time as we need. He's feeding you information, and you're the only one that can decipher it. You can't give up, not yet." Bozer had an epiphany, "I know it's hard to watch, none of us has the stomach for that, but maybe we can go check his apartment for clues. I called that lady neighbor of his, she says his car is there and she hadn't seen him all weekend, but his door was locked. If you want to, we can go together."
"Ok, Boze, that sounds like a good plan." Mac conceded.
"But I'm driving." Bozer snatched the Jeep's keys from Mac, "I still don't trust that you're not gonna knock me out with a glass of milk like B. A. Baracus and put me on a plane, then go turn yourself in to the cartel." He shooed Mac toward the other side of the car, and Mac obliged.
"Does Matty know where we're going?" Mac's voice was low and monotone.
"Her idea." Bozer admitted, "She knew you'd try to sneak out. Some Phoenix people are on the way to collect evidence too, but the person to best evaluate the scene is probably you, so here we go. Now call Matty so they can keep us updated."
Mac held his phone out to get both of them in the frame of the video call. "Hi, Matty. Have we missed any new clues?"
"No, Blondie, he seems to be trying to entertain them with his singing." Matty replied.
"What song?"
"Obscure 90s stuff," Matty explained, "it's a message to me." A goodbye, she thought to herself, refusing to let the kids know; a throwback to a past mission where Jack thought he was going to die, confessing and professing everything on his conscience to Matty over coms. Begging her to let his loved ones know he was thinking about them. He was telling her again, but covered up in a way that made him look like he was just singing a song about Banditos.
Jack was already well into his song, "So give your ID card to the border guard. Your alias says you Captain John Luke Picard of the United Federation of Planets, 'Cause they won't speak English any ways.
Everybody knows that the world is full of stupid people, So meet me at the mission at midnight
We'll divy up there, Everybody knows that the world is full of stupid people. So I got the pistol. So I get the Pesos. Yeah that seems fair."
His captors were ignoring him at this point, waiting for Mac to receive the location to turn himself in so they could start to torture Jack on camera. Two had left the building and had not returned.
"We'll put the sugar in the tank of the sheriff's car. We'll slash the deputy's tires, they won't get very far, when they finally get the word that there's been a hold-up. Uh huh." Jack stopped his singing for a moment as the two that left returned. "Oh, shit." He laughed as they turned the hose on him.
They sprayed Jack with a powerful stream from a hose. It stung his bare skin as the high pressure stream pounded his flesh from his side up his chest as the moved closer. He turned his head and protected his face as best he could with his arms as they ran the hose up before aiming the stream at the puddle on the floor and down a drain several feet away.
"See, y'all took my advice about cleaning up the yak puddle. Ol' Jack isn't just a dumb grunt. I don't want anyone else up in here slipping and getting hurt. Hey man, after this is all over, you can hire me as like a foreman in this factory, I'll keep everyone safe, get everything up to code."
Mac interjected to the people in the war room, "Did you get that, Riley?"
"Got it, Mac. Factory, possibly not operational due to code violations. Checking San Diego, Phoenix, Reno, and surrounding areas."
Jack managed to catch some of the over splash on his face when they sprayed him more after cleaning the floor. They sprayed him head to toe repeatedly hoping to bruise as much surface area as possible with the high pressure hose. His skin was red from irritation, but he had to play it cool the only way he knew how, singing and dancing like a fool.
"She's a maniac, maniac on the floor. And she's dancing like she's never danced before." He only made it through the hook once before the stream hit him in the armpit and made him yelp unexpectedly just before they shut the water off "Hot damn, did y'all know that spot was gonna hurt so bad? Because damn, that's supposed to be my tickle spot. That shit didn't tickle at all. Dude, it still stings. Whatever you do to me, don't shoot me in the armpit with the water again, please. That was torture. Damn."
He shook his head vigorously to flick the water out of his hair, but the action made him see stars. Jack squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to will the dizziness away. His jeans were soaked, adding extra weight to the force pulling on his wrists. His shoulders were one wrong move away from dislocating, and his wrists were bleeding more. Knowing his family needed more information to find him, he had one more trick up his sleeve.
Mac slipped the key into the lock of Jack's front door knob, but the deadbolt wasn't secured. Someone was trying to cover his tracks. Inside the front door he found Jack's favorite gun to carry on a table and his leather jacket draped over the back of a chair. Mac went to the safe and punched in the 6 digit code.
"You know the combination to Jack's safe?" Bozer inquired, impressed.
"You don't?" Mac asked as if it were common knowledge. "It's mine, Riley's, and your birthdays, just the day digits. Now you know it too in case you ever need to get in to it."
Bozer felt delighted to be included in the intimate knowledge of someone's personal safe, and even more honored that he was a piece of the combination. "Jack knows my birthday? I'm touched."
Mac looked back at him from his probe of the safe, "Probably knows your blood type too."
"Ok, that's a little creepy."
"It's tactical." Mac moved a couple things inside the safe and closed it the door, standing back up. "Everything is accounted for in the safe."
"It doesn't look like there was a struggle or a fight." Bozer lifted and looked under items around the room, not a thing out of place. "Either it didn't happen here and they brought his things back...or...I'm not sure how that would have played out. Was it a girl? Did a girl lure Jack to the cartel?"
"I doubt that." Mac was walking around, looking under things and around things. Bozer went to the bedroom to find a neatly made bed and nothing out of place. He returned to the main living space to find Mac staring into the kitchen. "Something is off here. Do you see it too?"
"The bowl! It's empty. Why would Jack leave his gun and jacket, but take his wallet and keys and not put up a fight. Something's extra fishy."
Mac was already walking into the kitchen to look around. Nothing seemed out of place, he opened cabinets and drawers, unsure of what exactly he was looking for. Mac opened the dishwasher and was met with resistance. He closed it and bent down to investigate what was stopping the door and pulled out Jack's wallet.
Shortly after he found Jack's keys in the disposal and called Matty. "Jack was drugged."
Riley piped in over the phone call as well, "Are you sure? How does that even happen?"
"A girl!" Bozer interjected from the other room.
"Found his keys in the disposal and wallet under the dishwasher. Definitely drugged. Gun and jacket are still here." Mac spoke as he walked toward the jacket; he picked it up and sniffed it, garnering a sideways look from Bozer. Mac held the jacket out toward his friend, "do you smell 'girl' on this?"
Bozer took a whiff, "no, just Jack." He made a face of disillusionment, wondering how smelling another man's outerwear became part of this investigation.
Mac stuck his hand into the jacket pocket and retrieved a receipt that he held by the corner and flapped open. "Matty, there's a receipt here from the burger place down the street at lunch yesterday, paid cash. Maybe they used a contact poison on the money or something." He put the receipt to the phone camera so they could capture the info and speak to some of the employees.
"So how did they get him out of here? Dragging an unconscious grown man is going to draw attention. And if he was conscious and at gunpoint or something, he would have already found a way to tell us what kind of vehicle or alerted someone somehow as he was leaving."
Mac went out the front door and got on his knees examining the hallway floor.
"What exactly are you looking for?" Bozer asked from the doorway.
"Not sure, but when I find it, I'll let you know." He handed his phone to Bozer and bent eye level to the ground. He carefully examined the low pile straw mat in front of the door from all angles making a mental note Bozer held off on asking about. He crawled backward and looked carefully at a few spots on the floor. "Hey, shine a light right here." Bozer used the phone's flashlight to illuminate the ground. "Do you see this?"
"No."
"Come down here." Bozer joined Mac on the ground. "Do you see it? The tire marks? Like a hand truck or dolly," Mac indicated a path with his finger from Jack's door threshold, over the mat, and a pivoting scuff in the middle of the hallway.
"Oh my God, yes. They drugged him and carried him away on a hand truck."
"Riley, you get that?" Mac asked the phone now sitting on the welcome mat.
Riley called out from her seat in the war room "On it. Checking the cameras in Jack's parking lot."
"We're headed back in."
Jack stood on his toes, cold and wet, waiting for something or anything to happen. While he wasn't in a hurry to have his ass beaten, he needed some action to get his plan rolling. He began to sing again,
"It was an early morning yesterday
I was up before the dawn
And I really have enjoyed my stay
But I must be moving on."
He paused for dramatic effect.
"Come on. Y'all don't know Supertramp? Lemme give you a few more verses." He belted more words, volume increasing with a hip bump with each line,
"Like a king without a castle
Like a queen without a throne
I'm an early morning lover
And I must be moving on" he hummed the instrumental breaks and continued with his song.
"Now I believe in what you say
Is the undisputed truth
But I have to have things my own way
To keep me in my youth
Like a ship without an anchor
Like a slave without a chain
Just the thought of those sweet ladies
Sends a shiver through my veins
And I will go on shining
Shining like brand new
I'll never look behind me
My troubles will be few."
He bobbed his head to the music that wasn't there and started back with a falsetto,
"Goodbye stranger it's been nice
Hope you find your paradise"
he looked around the room at his audience, all ignoring him. "Really, no one knows this one? It's a classic. Oh well."
Jack dangled there in silence, waiting.
When Mac and Bozer walked back into the war room, Riley showed them on screen what she'd tracked. "Here's Jack walking home." She sped up the footage, "and here's a dude getting into this box truck and coming out with this appliance dolly, probably empty the way he's handling it so easily." More fast forward, "and here he is leaving with the box again, seemingly heavier than before. No tag on the truck, but I lost visual near Burbank and have a few programs running and checking traffic cams. It's a lot slower and harder without a tag on a vehicle since it won't pop up on any LPR, and they seem to have avoided the interstate. I'm gonna check manually too"
"That's great, Riley. Everything helps." Matty assured her. An email alert came in to the dummy email address from the same one that sent the video link. "The clock is ticking now."
A different assailant approached Jack slowly. He donned a hood like the others had and pulled a box cutter from his pocket as he approached.
Jack confronted him, rambling, "I hope you're not coming to cut my pants off or something because I'm really cold right now. Your audience will not appreciate me in my drawers today. Little Jack is trying to shrivel up and climb inside of my body. He is not fit for viewing right now. Not like that time when I was a stripper. They kept that green room so hot, everybody was constantly glistening with sweat."
When he reached Jack, he extended the box cutter blade and traced a shallow line diagonally across Jack's belly. It stung and he winced, but he didn't falter.
"Jack, no!" Mac yelled at the screen. "We're so close, don't!"
"What is it Mac, what's he telling you?" Riley questioned.
They watched and cringed as the masked man carved another line below and parallel to the first onto Jack's abdomen, then another above the first line.
"That actually is a code we have. When Jack talks about being a stripper, it means he's gonna play possum and either try to escape or just try to rest for a minute."
"That's so...random." Bozer chimed in.
"Not really," Mac continued, "we've actually been in situations so many times when we needed to relay that message without being obvious. If Jack talks about being stripper, he's going to take a dive with the next punch and 'play possum,' as he likes to call it. If he mentions this one particular song, he will play possum and then we make our escape. If one of us talks about a pet ferret, that means I'm the one who's going to take the fall. If the ferret is mentioned by name, and it's a short name, then I fake a seizure or something and pass out; if the ferret has a long name, I take a hit and stay down, then we fight back and escape on his cue."
"God that is so random it's genius," Matty said, "and it's sad that you needed to devise a code to convey that plan to one another, but I'm very relieved that you came up with some sort of system, no matter how weird it is."
"We were drunk after a debrief. We'd almost died, again, and felt like maybe we should have some signals that weren't completely obvious. Jack does like to run his mouth, so it just seems like that's what he's doing when we're in a bind. It's actually been pretty useful several times. But right NOW, I don't think it's a good idea at all. Either Jack is hurting much more than he's letting on and trying to tell me to hurry, or he's going to try to escape."
The man continued to carve on Jack, now making 3 more lines perpendicular to and to match the first 3. Jack gritted his teeth and took it without a sound. Once the masked man finished his masterpiece, he walked back off camera.
Jack visibly relaxed and the blood crept down his stomach from the first cuts and flowed freely from the most recent, soaking in at the top of his wet jeans. The skin pulled and burned with every breath, but he tried to slow and shallow his breaths to keep that pull to a minimum. Within a few uncomfortably silent moments, he was able to block out the pain. He couldn't let his kids see him falter.
Jack clapped 8 times in quick succession while shaking his hips and started in the middle of another song,
"You're lookin' good just like a snake in the grass, one of these days you're gonna break your glass.
Don't bring me down, nono nono nono nono no. Ooh ooh ooh
I'll tell you once more before I get off the floor
Don't bring me down."
"Shit," Mac whispered under his breath, "that's the song. Jack's going to try to escape."
"You got me shakin' got me runnin' away
You got me crawlin' up to you everyday
Don't bring me down, no no no no no. Ooh ooh ooh.
I'll tell you once more before I get off the floor. Don't bring me down."
Jack's melody was interrupted by an uppercut to his chin. He recovered quickly, "Ow, fucker. Warn a guy next time. You're so small I didn't even see you coming. You need to wear a bell, like a cat."
His comments angered his newest and shortest assailant who wasn't actually short, but Jack needed something to poke the bear with. He came at Jack with a left hook to Jack's temple and another quick one to the cheek. "Ooh, the little gremlin is fierce!" Jack laughed and teased. The next blow was harder than the first, which was exactly what he'd hoped for. The man's fist made contact with Jack's right cheek as his head snapped to the side. He immediately fell limp, head drooping to his chest and wrists slipping down the shackles to support his weight. His ankles turned outward and knees apart. Blood dripped from his lips as the masked man walked away.
Riley cringed and averted her eyes. "You said he's faking, right, Mac?"
"Yea, supposed to be." Mac was unsure of his own words.
"I dunno," Bozer confessed, "that looked pretty real."