There was a sweet smell, then a choking sensation as it turned bitter and strong almost instantly. George coughed as he tried to stop the burning in his lungs. It felt like he had just snorted an entire bottle of ammonia. As his eyes tried to focus on his new surroundings, he saw Kevin standing before him still in his eccentric clothing. The room was still spinning, but George was beginning to make it slow. A pounding sensation in his head told him that his headache was still very much active even though it hurt a lot less.
"Ah, you're awake. I was wondering if you'd died, which I don't think I would care about. Although, it wouldn't allow me to have my fun with you." Kevin walked around him playing with something in his hand. George tried to move, but found himself bound to a table.
"What're you going to do?" George asked in a raspy voice.
"Oh, you know…a little of this…a little of that." Kevin said as he continued to pace around the table. It was then that George noticed that he was only in his underwear. He had red X's over his pectorals and down near his belly button.
"I was in a damn predicament. I had to find a way out before I figured out what those X's were for. I didn't have much I could do, but I would be damned if I couldn't get these ropes off. Fighting off the idea of just giving up, thoughts of escape ran through my mind. There was no way I was going to let this shuckster get away with this."
Kevin took out a cigarette from one of the dress' pockets, lit it with a match, and took a single long drag before pulling it out and blowing smoke into George's face. The smoke filled his lungs, burning all the while. George squirmed on the table. Kevin laughed and pushed down on his bare chest, holding him still.
"Keep still or while were cutting, you might get hurt," Kevin laughed manically, "We're only going to make sure you don't go snooping around anymore."
In his hands, Kevin twirled a rusted scalpel around between his fingers, dancing the blade in and out of each finger before spinning it in his hand and catching it again in his fist. Kevin traced one of the X's on his right pectoral, blood followed the blade closely. George screamed out in pain, it felt like his skin was being ripped from his chest. He forced his tongue deep into his mouth, so he wouldn't bite it off.
Kevin dipped the blade in his blood, covering both sides in the viscous, red liquid. Kevin dangled the blade over George's face, letting blood droplets fall on his face. He lightly dragged the scalpel along his cheek, leaving streaks down each side.
"I don't know where this blind devotion to this dame is coming from, but I assure you that it's going to end in your death, Mr. Hamilton." Kevin cleared the blood from George's cheek with his index finger. "Now, who is it that sent you for this…heirloom?"
"Heh, I can't tell one dame from another, you know. I get solicited all the time." George laughed and coughed. His head rolled to one side, drool fell down his face, mixing with the blood. Kevin violently grabbed his face and twisted it back to face him.
"You think you're funny then?" Kevin rhetorically asked, and before George could even think of answering he back handed him in the face. Salty blood leaked out of a new cut in his mouth. George coughed out some excess blood, and spit as hard as he could into Kevin's face.
Kevin's face was scarlet with rage, but he soon cooled down and moved away from George. He ran his hand down his wet chest, trailing sweat and blood down his chest, to his stomach and his thigh. Without warning, Kevin slammed the scalpel into George's thigh. A loud scream echoed in the room and surrounding hallways. Tears cascaded out of George's eyes.
Kevin, with his hand still on the blade, leaned in close to George's face. "Oh, sorry; did that hurt?" Kevin paused to wipe away one of George's tears. "Well then, I'll ask one more time, who sent you on this case?"
George paused trying to catch his breath; he wiggled his hands to get a little more comfortable, feeling the rope slacken a bit his heart jumped for joy.
"The rope was coming undone, but I had to keep that to myself until I knew I could take them. I couldn't let the fairy know I was getting loose or my chance would be lost. I also had to somehow get that knife from him, but in this state, I wasn't going to easily get that done."
George sighed and turned to Kevin, looking him straight in the eyes, he started. "Oh, the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful-"
"Shut up." Kevin twisted the knife in George's thigh. Pain shot up his leg and over took his entire body. He screamed louder than he had ever screamed before followed by a few sharp twitches. George turned his head to the side and fell into a fit of dry heaves. Kevin slammed his fist down hard into his stomach and twisted the scalpel back out.
George stifled the cry that was brewing in the back of his throat. Kevin tossed the scalpel on a table nearby. He paced back and forth, trying to figure out what he was going to do. Finally, Kevin walked to the door and called in some of his guards. He whispered something George couldn't hear, and the guards left quickly.
"Well, it seems since you refuse to talk, I have to use some…shall we say, extreme measures?" Kevin walked up to the side of the table and looked down at George. "It's such a shame to let this all go to waste."
The guards came back with a bottle of a foul smelling liquid and put it on the table with the scalpel.
"Leave me." Kevin gave a flick of his hand and the guards all shuffled out of the room. When they were gone Kevin gave George a wink and turned to the bottle. "You know, it pains me to have to give you this,"
"Now was my chance, his back was turned mixing that strange concoction. If I could get free and take him out without the guards hearing, I might have a chance."
George wrestled with the ropes at his hands, trying to free himself.
"But you left me no choice. Once I make it, and inject it in you,"
The ropes started to give way, loosening enough for George to move his hands further and further. Kevin started to turn around. George froze in place as Kevin looked at him before continuing mixing.
"There'll be no way for you to not answer my questions, it only pains me that you won't have the consciousness left to endure the pain I plan on giving you."
George freed his hands and sat up; ignoring the pain it caused him, and untied his legs.
"You see, this drug is much like a truth serum, but the only difference is that you won't be able to wake up afterwards; quite ingenious if I do say so myself."
George was already behind him as he started to turn around with the ropes in his hands. Quickly, George slipped the ropes over Kevin's throat and pulled tight. Kevin struggled, but couldn't scream, the rope was too tight around his throat. George held on for his life, if he let go it was all over, he would never escape and see life again.
It didn't take long for Kevin to stop flailing, his movements began to get slower and his resistance all but stopped. George watched as his eyes rolled back into his head and felt Kevin's body slacken. He let the corpse fall to the ground silently, and grabbed the needle and scalpel. As George approached the door, he heard the melodic, counted, footsteps of a guard pacing back and forth just outside. Finally, once he heard the footsteps go past the door; George pushed the door open slightly and peered out.
"I would have to escape, and do it silently at that because if I was spotted the entire place would be coming down on me in an instant. So, if I had to I would kill the guards as long as it meant that I wouldn't be discovered."
The hallway stretched in either direction, but George couldn't see the ends of the hallways. It looked like this was the only room in the entire area and yet that didn't make sense because of the sheer size of the area. The whole thing made George dizzy; he decided not to think about anything but escape. As he was about to exit the room, he heard the guard's footsteps echoing in the hallway again. George quietly shut the door and waited for the footsteps to pass the door once again.
Now with no guards outside, George pushed the door open completely and walked out. The guard had his back to him, so George crouched down low and walked up behind him. With the needle, he stabbed the man in the neck and injected the liquid. The man let out a low, short cry in surprise, but drifted off
into a stupor. With a great effort, George moved the body into the room and looked back into the hallway.
He chose to follow the right hallway and ran slowly alongside the wall. As he reached the corner, he saw another guard, walking back and forth, up and down the hall. George waited until he saw the guard turn around before rounding the corner and crouching behind the guard. With a quick jab, he plunged the scalpel into the guard's kidney. The pain and shock of it clenched the guard's throat shut, preventing a single sound from escaping his mouth. George moved the body into a shadowed out cove and proceeded down the hall.
About halfway between the ends of the hallway was another opening into another hallway. At the T-intersection, George stopped and looked down the new path. There were no guards, but there was a door that George could partially read.
-ssing Room
"I came upon a new path that led to a door that I thought was the Dressing Room, I needed to find clothes anyway because running around mostly naked was not the best way to escape. I decided to go and find some clothes in there and hope that nobody was getting changed."
George slowly crept down the hallway, stopping every time he though he heard a noise. His heart slammed hard against his chest as he reached the door and turned the knob. The door opened and revealed rows of lockers, all with clothing in them. George walked up to the first locker and looked at the clothes; he searched until he found something that fit him. He cringed as he put on the smelly, ragged jeans and the sweaty t-shirt.
After, with nothing left to do in the room, George peered out the door and finding the hall still empty, walked out. He continued his escape from where he left off. The T-intersection was still clear of any guards, which gave George some hope that he might be able to escape. George walked slowly down to the other end of the corridor and stopped in his tracks.
Voices, he heard voices. Two, maybe three, he couldn't be sure. They were talking about him and throwing back and forth ideas about what Kevin was going to do to him. George mostly ignored the conversation, but focused on how he was going to get passed all of them.
"I was in a pickle that's for sure. I didn't know what to do. I could double back, but there might've been more guards that way and there was no chance of me escaping if there were more guards back the way I came. I had to figure a way around them or getting passed them without them knowing it was me. That was when I felt it."
There was a bulge in the back of his jeans, and George reached behind to find out what it was. There, clipped to one of the eye holes for a belt, was a baseball cap.
"It could just work, I was about the same build as whoever wore these clothes anyway, if I could just wear this cap and walk out, having them think I was the guy who owned the clothes, then it might work.
The only problem that kept me from doing it was if any of the guards out there owned the clothes. I had to try though, there was no better plan that I could think of."
George unclipped the hat and put it on his head, pushing the brim down low. He stood up and walked out as nonchalantly as he could. The guards stopped their conversation to look at George. One of them spoke up.
"You done your shift already Bill?" He asked. George mumbled incoherently and nodded. "Eh, see ya tomorrow then."
George nodded once more and waved as he started up the stairs that led to the door. As he was about to leave, one of the guards stopped him.
"Oh, Bill, don't forget cards on Saturday, okay?" He clapped him on the chest. The shock and pain of it forced its way through the open wounds and into his skull, it felt like his whole being exploded. George groaned loudly in pain and clutched his chest.
"Of all the damned things to do, he had to hit right where Kevin cut me. I knew they were going to discover I wasn't Bill; I just had no idea what I was going to do. My mind raced with the options open to me. I could take one of them hostage, I still had the scalpel, but they might shoot me before I could even get one of them. I could escape, but that didn't have a good chance. So, left with nothing else, I said a soft prayer to myself and resigned to death, sad that this was going to be my last case."
"Bill, are you alright?" The man, who hit George in the chest, looked under the cap to see his face. "Wait, what the hell? You're not Bill!"
All of the guards pulled out their weapons and aimed them at George. Quickly, George pulled out the scalpel and took hold of the closest guard to him.
"Screw death, if I was going to die I was at least going to take out one of these bastards with me."
George put the scalpel to the man's throat and walked slowly to the door. "If you shoot, he dies. You keep that in mind!"
The door was only a few yards away, but the guards were getting closer and it was tough to keep the man from squirming enough to get free. As he approached the door, George was getting weak and weary; it took a great effort, just to keep the man tight against his body. The door was now only one or two yards away, but George wasn't going to make it. He had to, this was the only way out, it was so close, but he couldn't keep going.
Just a bit farther, just a bit farther. It was within his grasp, but he couldn't keep it going, he had failed. He knew death was next.
The man slammed his elbow into George's stomach when he felt the arm holding him against George's body let go a little. George released the man and grabbed his stomach in pain. As the man reached for his gun and called for his friends to shoot the intruder, George fell on his knees and doubled over.
The entire situation seemed to go in slow motion, George felt like everything was happening so slowly and yet, he was moving normally. He felt the warm blood trickle down the wound in his chest and touched the outside of the shirt where he knew the wound to be. The blood soaked through the shirt and George could feel the warmth on his finger tips. He looked up at the now free man as he bent down to pick up the gun he had dropped.
From behind him, George heard the doors slam open, probably more guards coming to restrain and kill the prisoner. Everything was hopeless and George was powerless to stop any of it. He resigned himself softly to death, hoping that when he does die, he will go to heaven and not hell despite all of the horrible things he had done. He recalled some of the things he did in the past and relived them quickly. He supposed this was what people saw before they died, the proverbial 'life flashing before your eyes'.
Something was wrong though, he felt a hand shove him to the ground, but that was it. No handcuffs, no gun to the head. He heard an angelic voice shouting in his ear. Telling him to stay down. He heard gun shots, three quick bursts, and then silence. The hand was there again, pulling him up. Then the voice again, speaking to him; more softly this time. It was a woman, he could tell that, but nothing else. She was trying to get his attention, George wanted to give it to her but he was having a difficult time, he tried to focus, to focus on her words.
With a great wallop, she slapped him. The shock and pain forced his mind to grasp everything that was going on. Her figure started to come into focus. George saw short blond hair; further down he found himself staring right into her beautiful, blue eyes. She wore an all black outfit, with a vest that held several things from keys to handguns.
George shook his head and mumbled his gratitude. He forced himself to stop staring at her and chose to look instead at the men she had taken out.
"Look, are you okay to walk?" The mysterious woman asked George as she looked him over.
"Yeah…yeah I should be fine." George rubbed his head as he spoke. "Hey, thanks for the rescue. I thought I was going to meet my maker."
"You almost were, I was coming for you, but it looks like I came a little later than I had expected."
"You were coming for me?" George was thoroughly puzzled.
"That's correct; you're not the only one on this case." She paused and reached into the pack on her back. She pulled out George's clothing and other accoutrements. "You look horrible in that get-up, here try these on."
George pulled off the stained t-shirt and saw the woman's eyes roam down to the wound on his chest. He ignored her wandering eyes and pulled on his own shirt, then looked at her for a second. She got the hint and turned around as George pulled down his pants and changed into his own dress pants. Finally, he tied on his spats and placed his small pistol in his coat pocket. He tipped his hat to her and she smiled.
"Name's George, what's yours?"
"Rita." She said shortly.
"Well, Rita it looks like we better split." George said and he turned to leave, but Rita held onto his arm.
"Wait, there's something we have to get first. There are some papers in Ryman's office that we need."
"You, know you never did tell me who sent you; was it that dame Cindy?"
"No, no, no you're dealing with some people a little higher up than some floozy who paid you a little cash to find her things. This is more on a governmental level now." Rita said as she led him through the maze of hallways and tunnels until they found their way back into the club.
From here, they walked back to Kevin's office. George noticed that the guards were all knocked unconscious and stashed into well hidden places, so no one would find them.
"This dame knew her stuff. I thought I was in love instantly, I don't think I've ever met a woman who could hold her own against well trained guys like these. I would have to try and keep my thoughts on the case though, couldn't let her slip me up."
They reached the office, and Rita started searching the cabinets and desk drawers instantly. Without a word, she motioned for George to start his search too. There were documents that had dealings with almost every crime boss and petty criminal in the entire state. It was a tough job sorting through the false leads and the real ones.
"I was pretty sure that Rita wasn't going to let me keep any of the documents that I found, she was going to pull the old 'government agent has higher priority' shtick on me. So when I found something I knew was important I did what I could to retain my own copy."
George took out a small camera and photographed all of the papers he found even remotely important. While Rita's back was turned he continued photographing, but quickly hid the camera when she turned back towards him.
"Found some stuff over here," George said holding the papers in one hand. Rita walked over and grabbed them out of his hand and put them in the bag. "Hey, whoa, hold your horses there sweet cheeks. I'm on this case too, so I think I deserve some respect here."
"Yeah, I'll mention your name on my case report." Rita smiled and walked out of the office with the documents in hand. George smiled and followed her out. They walked out of the club without a hitch, well if you count everything but the occasional goosing and cat call.