Chapter 1 – Vanishing Act
Jon was at a loss of what to do. He had been given leave time
and had been ordered to take it. There was no way he was getting out of
it this time. Two weeks with nothing to do. He didn’t have family here in
Limbo like the Kidd did, nor did he have any significant other to spend
time with like the Steel Twins, Bluegrass and most of the others.
Everyone seemed to have someone or somewhere to visit except
him. Two decades in here in Limbo and still he didn’t know half of what was
offered to do on Bedlama. To top it all off the Commander had told him that
there was no way he was spending his two weeks here at Hawk Haven either.
Saying that he would be ‘underfoot’ the entire time. He certainly didn’t
want to return to Earth, but he didn’t want to really stay here in Limbo either.
He let out a soft groaning sigh as he ran his hands though
his hair. Unlike the others, he regularly de-armored in his off hours, so
his hair was kept trimmed back to shoulder length. He was getting a headache
from it all. Standing up he started to pace the room. He’d stop every now
and then to look around. Two decades and all he had to show for it was a
bookshelf full of Rules and Regulations books, a desk piled with a paperwork,
and emptiness.
Emptiness of the room, an emptiness of the heart that is without
love and the emptiness of a joyless soul. I’m pathetic, he thought to himself
as he looked around again. His eyes were drawn to the two small cases that
were hidden in plain sight. One held all the letters and such that had
been sent to him, the other held ten tiny parcels. All of them were sent
by the same person and they were all unopened still.
The sender was someone he didn’t want nothing to do with.
Someone from a past he no longer acknowledged as his own. Somewhere in
the back of his mind a tiny part of him felt guilty for not opening the
letters and parcels or even writing back. But that part was over ruled by
the rest of his mind that was still angry over how things turned out. Angry
at the people that made his life, to him, a living hell when he was younger.
“Damn it this is getting me no where,” he muttered to himself.
“What the hell am I going to do for two weeks?!?” he asked the empty room.
Enjoy yourself maybe? Let go and be the person you’ve kept locked away,
a voice whispered. “I’ve got to get out of here.” With that decision
made he started to ransack his room and closet. He ignored the newer clothes,
what few there were, and went for the old stuff. Stuff that had come with
him when he first arrived here. Faded and ripped jeans, sleeveless button
up shirts, an old denim jacket that had the sleeves ripped out of it and
was covered in patches and drawings. Stuff that would raise an eyebrow or
two from the most laid back of the team.
A humorless laugh as he thought about what the reaction would
be if they ever saw him in some of those clothes. Good Old ‘by the book’
Lieutenant ‘stick up the ass’ Quicksilver dressed as one a ‘bad boyz’ crowd.
Complete with the dyed & bleached messy hair style. Pausing he glanced
in the mirror over the dresser, running a hand though his golden blonde
hair, picturing himself as such. It was scary almost at how easy it was
to do.
With his stuff packed in an old duffel, all he needed was
a way off the station. If Zan was about he could ask her to take him to
Bedlama, but somehow he didn’t think he wanted to do that. He didn’t really
want anyone to know where he was going or what he was going to be doing.
That left Seymour the Hack. Checking the time, he chewed on the inside of
his cheek in thought. Seymour should be showing up about this time and he
wouldn’t ask questions. That would work out perfect. He waited a few minutes
before grabbing his duffle and slinging it over his shoulder. After making
sure the coast was clear, he left his room, locking it behind him.
He made it to the hanger without anyone spotting him. Just
in time too. Seymour was just getting into the beat up old cab when Jon exited
the lift. With long strides across the hanger he got to the cab before it
left. He opened the back door and got in, dropping his bag on the seat next
to him.
“Lieutenant Quicksilver… What can I do for ya?”
“Dolar, then Bedlama.” It was all he said as he crossed his
arms over his chest and gave Seymour that look that said ‘don’t ask questions.’
“You got it Lieutenant. You know what I mean?” Seymour replied
as he started up the cab and left Hawk Haven.
The ride was fairly quiet, the only noise was the sound of
the engine as it chugged along. A list nearly as long as his arm came to
mind of all the violations, citations and everything else that was wrong
with the cab came to mind. He frowned, more at himself the anything. He was
suppose to be on leave to relax some and here he was still ‘on duty’ as it
were, mentally. He caught Seymour glancing at him in the mirror and just frowned
that much more. He didn’t mean to make the cabbie nervous, but he was.
When they stopped at Dolar, he got out so that he could withdraw
enough cash so he would not have to rely on his cards. He made sure to
place the cash in a secure place before returning to the cab and getting
in. He would stash it once he got a room somewhere.
As they headed to Bedlama, he tuned out Seymour’s babble,
only making the occasional sound to indicate he had heard the comments.
The trip didn’t seem take that long. He watched as Hawk Haven passed by,
sitting serenely in it’s orbit about Bedlama. He blinked and the outside
shifted from the black of space to the bright clear blue of a perfect sky.
The were on Bedlama already. Blinking again and they were landing in one
of the plaza’s.
“We’re here Lieutenant, ya know what I mean?” Seymour said
with a smile, drumming his fingers nervously on the steering wheel. He had
been shafted so many times by the SilverHawks over they years when it came
to the fares, yet he didn’t want to get his passenger mad at him either.
Jon let out a soft, unheard sigh as he grabbed his duffle
and got out of the Cab. He came up to the driver’s window and absently
handed the cabbie some money. It covered the fare and left a fairly decent
tip too.
Seymour turned to get change and when he turned back around,
Quicksilver was no where to be seen. “Something’s up with that one. Ya know
what I mean?” he mumbled to himself. He looked around a few moments before
shrugging and heading back to his normal route.
Jon watched from the deep shadows of a nearby alleyway. Once
the cab was well out of sight he stepped out, running a hand though his hair
once more. He looked up, easily spotting the tiny glint of light that was
Hawk Haven. With a frustrated grunt he turned away from the site and started
walking. He needed to find a place to stay, but also somewhere where his
actions would go unquestioned. That left the Omni out right off the bat,
right along with anything in the upper class section of the city. As he
walked he noted the subtle changes. Stores didn’t look quite as prosperous,
the people wasn’t dressed as fancy. If he had to class this area, he’d say
it was the middle class area. Still not what he wanted so he kept walking.
Along the way he stopped in at a pharmacy store picking up
a few items. After paying for them he tucked the bag into his duffle and
kept walking. In all the time he’d been in Limbo, he never really had the
time to walk though the city. It was larger when on foot then it was when
he had over flown it. His perspective of things had changed.
He knew he was in the area he wanted when he saw more people
just sitting about in front of run down stores then he had seen shopping.
Those that were going about, were in a hurry to be somewhere else. There
was that certain quality that screamed ‘this is the bad side of town, if you
don’t have to be here, then don’t stick around.’
The flickering lights of a motel sign caught his attention.
The Sleep-Tite Motel was the name of the place. It looked like it was run
down, yet tried not to look it. He didn’t care as long as he could get
a room without questions being asked. When he entered the office, the manager
was sitting behind the counter reading a magazine. She was a older, tired
looking Divorean.
Stepping up to the counter he waited a moment before speaking.
“A room, one week.”
“It’ll be 200 limbo bucks, cleaning gals come though once
a day, ya get 2 towels a day, if ya need more you gotta come to the office,”
she rattled off not even looking up from her magazine.
“Fine.” He peeled a couple of bills off from the pile he'd
gotten at Dolar and threw them on the desk. "I just want to be left
alone."
The Manager indicated the registry, then fished a key out
of the drawer. Leaving the key she took the money and continued to read,
never once looking up. “As long as you don’t cause trouble, no one will
bother ya while ya here.” She finally looked up. “If ya want to bring a gal
in, it’ll cost ya extra though.”
Finished with the registry, he took the key. "Thanks."
He ignored her commentary about company.
He didn’t bother looking at the room number until he was out
of the office. He just grunted softly to himself as he turned and headed
down the walkway. His room was on the back side of the motel so he didn’t
have to put up with the traffic outside. When he got to the room, he opened
the door and stepped in, looking about. A single bed covered in a light weight
spread that was fairly dark, a Vid screen mounted on the wall with a remote
to it, a short mirrored dresser, and a table and chairs filled the room.
He saw the door to the bathroom off to one side.
Next to the bed was a nightstand with a telephone on it. There
was a list of places that delivered also. Dropping the duffel on the bed
he went and checked out the bathroom. The usual array of sample shampoo,
conditioner and soap was set up on the sink counter. The tub had faded strikes
of red down the side and about the tap and drain. The shower curtain was
the cheap kind, easier to replace then to clean. Unhindered the memory of
a place he stayed when he had ran from home that first time came to mind.
It wasn’t a motel, but a flop house the gang he was in at the time used.
He couldn’t help but snort at the memory. This place was just like ‘home.’
Returning to the other room he sat down on the edge of the
bed and picked up the list. A couple of places looked interesting, but first
he had to take care of something. Pulling out his old denim jacket of his
duffel he set it to the side then pulled out his money. Sorting it out before
he stashed it in the various hidden inner pockets of the old jacket.
He pulled out his wallet then took a few bills and stashed
them about it after folding them up. He paused looking at his ID. It was
something he had acquired in his first year in Limbo. As far as he knew,
no one else knew about it. It was a simple ID card that he did keep updated.
With a shake of his head, he folded the wallet back up and put it back in
it’s normal place.
Looking around the room he sighed. Glancing at the list he
decided on getting something delivered. Picking it up, he looked it over.
After about ten minutes he picked the phone up and dialed up a number.
“Cosmic Pizza, where our pizza’s are out of this world. We
have a meal deal special currently. Two large, twp toppings pizzas with a
2 litter of soda. Only $15.99. What can I get you?” the person on the other
end rattled off in a bored manner.
“Give me the meal deal, pepperoni with extra cheese on both
and a cola,” he said absently. "To be delivered. I’m at the Sleep-Tite
Motel.” He then gave the room number.
“Ohh..kay. anything else? and what name will that be under?”
asked the other person.
“No…. Terry Davids,” he replied absently.
“No problem, that will be a total of….$17.50. Your order should
be there in ..30 minutes. Thank you for ordering from Cosmic Pizza. Have
a good day.” The person then hung up.
“Good day.. yeah right,” he muttered as he hung up the phone.
He had nothing to do until the Pizza arrived so he sat back on the bed,
leaning against the head board, and flipped though the channels on the TV.
Jon decided that once he ate something, he’d get started on
what he had planned to do. If he was going to he forced into this leave,
then by all means, he would ensure that he wouldn’t be able to be found
during this time either. The rest of the evening went without a hitch. He
was left alone as he wanted it to be.
It was late morning when the person stepped out of the hotel
room. Dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans that were ripped at the knees,
an old battered biker wallet tucked into the back pocket and the chain hooked
to the belt. A gray t-shirt was covered by an old equally battered, ripped
and faded sleeveless denim jacket. Patches and designs covered the jacket,
along with a few metal studs which winked in the light as the person moved.
Black hair hung messily down the figure’s back. The sides
were a little shorter, but the bangs hung down, obscuring the person’s
eyes. Overall it looked as if the person had taken a pair of scissors to
it, instead of going to a hairstylist. To top it off, shades were worn.
The type that wrapped about the face. A small silver hoop hung from one
earlobe. In the other several small gem studs sparkled when the light hit
them.
No one in their right mind would associate that figure with
Jonathan Quick. There was too much difference, in both appearances and
attitudes.
Jon paused, catching his reflection in a window. Looking himself
over he couldn’t help but smirk. They want me to take time off, then
that’s just what I’m going to do. If they want me back, too bad. Their loss.
Reaching up he ran a hand though his hair, watching with amusement as
it returned to it’s unruly state. Though it does feel good to let go of
everything. With a short bark of laughter he turned and continued
walking.
He was in no hurry to get anywhere fast. There was nothing
that needed to be done. No where he had to be and no one he was suppose to
see. When he got hungry he stopped at a fast food place and got something
to eat. When a shop caught his interest, he’d step in and browse, though
he didn’t buy anything. Absently he noted the looks he was getting from some
of the people that ran the places he went. They were watching him closely,
as if they expected him to cause trouble or steal something.
At a jewelry store, he bought several thin silver wire bracelets.
At another he bought a larger, black and silver arm band. It conveniently
covered the modification scars on one arm. In a weapons shop, he picked
up a pocket knife and a larger hunting knife. In this area of the city,
no questions were asked. Ducking into an alleyway, he tucked the hunting
knife into his boot, hiding it under his pants leg as he did.
By the time he reached the more prominent section of the city,
he had seen several of the Peace Keepers eyeing him. It seemed that with
the way he looked, he was thought of as a trouble maker.
Stopping at a pastry shop, he bought several different types
of pastries, along with a cup of strong tea. Taking his purchase to one of
the tables that were scattered about in the shop, he sat down to enjoy them.
When he was about half way done, he noticed a Peace Keeper had entered the
store. He decided to take his time finishing his pastries.
The Peace Keeper in question, a Hash'a'Glith, was talking
with the Devonian waitress that stood behind the counter.
To everyone else, it looked like a couple of friends talking,
but to Jon, it was obvious he was under surveillance. When he had finished
he stood, taking his trash and putting it in the garbage can before walking
up to the display counter. Taking his time, he looked over what was on
display. He knew he was making the Peace Keeper and the waitress edgy but
he intended that.
“Excuse me” he said as he glanced at the waitress. “Is that
Baklava?”
The waitress glanced at the Peace Keeper before walking over
to look at the sign behind the counter indicating what it was Jon was asking
about. “Uh… Yes sir. It’s the Earth version of Baklava.”
“Cool…I’d like a piece of it,” he said with a grin.
“Yes sir,” she said as she got a small plate and put a piece
of the sweet stuff on it.
Jon had already fished out some money and laid it on the counter,
taking the baklava in return. He didn’t even bother sitting down as he
bit into it. It was like heaven. Oh so sweet and nutty, with a underscoring
of nutmeg.
The waitress stared at him as he ate it. Very few customers
could down a piece so quickly and without anything to mellow the sticky
sweetness of the stuff.
Jon had finished it and was licking his fingers clean. He
always had a hidden sweet tooth. And it didn’t hurt that with the modifications,
he used up the energy it provided faster then a normal person. He tossed
the now empty plate into the garbage can, grinning.
The Peace Keeper was just staring, blinking his large eyes
in astonishment.
“Give me what you got,” Jon said. “I’ll take it all.” Fishing
his wallet to get the money.
“uh… yes sir…” the waitress said, still amazed herself. She
obediently got a large box, setting it to the side, then pulled the tray
out. She managed to get all but the last piece in the box.
“Here, I’ll take that one,” Jon said, handing her the money
and taking both the box and the extra piece. “Keep the change,” he commented
as he sauntered out the door of the shop.
Both the Peace Keeper and the waitress exchanged looks and
shrugged at the same time.
On his way back to the motel, he stopped by several candy
stores. Each time coming out with a selection of sweets that would send
a normal person into diabetic shock. But for him, there was nothing better
then enjoying the rush that sugar provided him. Just from the two pieces
of the baklava, he had a better outlook on the day as well as a lightness
to his steps he didn’t have this morning.
The next several days followed the same pattern. Getting up
late, going out to roam the city, grabbing a bite to eat and then getting
some type of sweet on the way back. It was the forth day when things changed.
Jon was headed towards the up-town districts when he saw a
woman being roughly shoved into an alleyway by a pair of rough looking men.
He frowned as he glanced about. In this area there were fewer Peace Keepers
and those that were around tended to stay inside their vehicles.
He crossed the street and ducked into an alley that was just
down from the one that woman had been drug down. Sprinting down the alleyway
till he found a connecting, smaller alley, then crossing over to the one
he wanted. He made a quick peek around the corner.
A look out was stationed near the end where he was at, but
was watching what was going on with the woman. Ever few moments he would
turn and glance about then go back to watching. He had a blaster held loose
& cockily in hand.
Jon just grinned to himself. This would be easier then dealing
with the mob. Timing it just right, he came around the corner and slammed
a fist into the back of the thug’s neck, knocking him out. While the thug
was no feather weight, Jon managed to drag him out of sight around the
corner before his friends spotted what was going on. Jon then snuck down
the alleyway, using empty crates and dumpsters as cover. Once Jon was close
enough to see what exactly was going on, he waited and watched.
The woman was being held up against the wall, by the throat,
by one person as the other was riffling through her belongings. When he was
finished he turned on the woman and started to slap her around.
Once the pair started to man-handle the woman, Jon stepped
out from behind the dumpster. Before either of the men could react he was
on them, using a combination of old street fighting techniques as well as
basic martial arts that he kept in practice with, to take both men down.
Though the fight took longer then Jon liked, it didn’t take
as long as he thought it would. “Are you alright miss?” he asked woman
as he brushed himself down before stepping closer to her. “They didn’t
hurt you too-” Jon never got to finish what he was saying.
The lookout he had knocked out earlier had awoken and made
his way down to the confrontation. He had picked up a discarded pipe along
the way and used it to bash Jon over the back of the head. As the thug continued
to beat Jon with the pipe, the woman reached down, picked up the dropped
blaster and shot the thug point blank, several times in the head and chest,
killing him. She then turned and shot the two unconscious men that were
laying on the ground, also killing them.
She was kneeling down to check on Jon when a ground vehicle
came to a screeching stop a few feet away. Another woman stuck her head
out of the window and hollered for the one that had been assaulted to get
in.
“Give me a hand,” the first said as she turned Jon over and
tsked over the injuries he had received.
“Why? It’s just another useless male.”
“Maybe so, but he did save the shipment and my life Jen-Jen,”
she responded. “Just shut up and give me a hand.”
“All right, fine Selly, but if the boss gets pissed don’t
blame me.” Jen-Jen said as she got out of the vehicle and helped Selly
haul Jon into it.
Jen-Jen didn’t even bother to try and get around the bodies
once they were ready to go, she just drove right over them.
To Part 2 - Mind Games
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