Link to Part 1

Case 28 - Starting Over Part 2


    Keiko had seen television shows about the kind of case she’d been given.  Ron Clancy was strong and in good shape, but middle aged, and not quite up dealing with a large man who had been weight training in prison before he was released.  It was someone who skipped out on bail, and the person who guaranteed his bail wanted him found so he wouldn’t be liable for the cost.

    She knew it was a test of her skills, to see if she could bring in the bail skipper without killing him or getting hurt.  Killing him would mean no money.

    There was a lot of trust in the mission, too.  Keiko was being watched, only not by Ron.  The target’s probation officer was the one who drove her.  ‘Target’, she mused to herself.  She hadn’t used that term in a while.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“This won’t take long, will it?”  the fat, balding probation officer asked.  His car smelled of take-out food.  Keiko made a note to herself to change her clothing when she got home, unsure of how much of that take-out grease was all over the car’s surfaces including the seats.  

    She took steel handcuffs from him.  “Not long,”  she said.  She stepped out of the car and into the rain, closing the door behind her.  Getting soaked by the rain was refreshing compared to the stale, sickening odor in the car.  She left her umbrella at Ron’s office.  “I’ll do this quickly.”

    Feeling a little like showing off, and also a little angry about being watched over, and probably leered at, by the fat probation officer, she walked right up to the door and knocked.  She heard someone on the other side of the door...heavy footsteps.  The peep hole in the door darkened.  Then the door opened, and a large, shaved-headed man stood in the doorway.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“What do you want?”  he asked.  “I didn’t order a girl today.”

    Keiko’s eyes narrowed.  She wasn’t happy about being compared to a prostitute.  Without speaking a word, she looked down at the photo in her hand - it was a perfect match - and then she hit him hard in the throat with two fingers.  As he slouched against the doorway, gagging, she pulled his hands behind him and handcuffed them.

    Unfortunately, that move was usually followed up by a quick death of the target.  Keiko wasn’t used to trying to move someone in that condition.  She closed the door to the home and pushed him about a third the way down the sidewalk before he collapsed to his knees, and then fell onto his stomach, wheezing.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Dammit,”  Keiko cursed.  She tried to pull him up to no avail.  Then she looked at the probation officer, and called to him, “Perhaps we should can an ambulance.”

    The probation officer rolled his eyes and opened his cell phone.


    It was only a few minutes before that ambulance arrived.  Keiko was soaked by then, as she watched the paramedics load the wheezing large man onto a stretcher and load him into the back of the ambulance.  They gave him a sedative and stabilized him.

    But just when Keiko was eyeing the dry yet smelly and greasy probation officer’s car, one of the Paramedics called him over.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“If he wakes up he may try to escape the ambulance,”  he said.  From what he was saying, Keiko guessed that the probation officer had given the ambulance workers some background.  “We’re going to need one of you two to keep him secure.”

    Keiko glanced at the car again, and then at the fresh, clean ambulance.  It was a bother, but at least it would be dry and not as smelly as the probation officer’s car.  “Is he going to meet us there?”  she asked.  She looked out, and his car was already driving away.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“He’s already on his way.”  As Keiko stepped in, the rear doors were closed.  She only had a couple of seconds to sit down and buckle up before the ambulance started moving quickly.  

    The interior of the ambulance was dry and kept a little warm to help make it more comfortable for the soaking wet patient and the soaking we workers alike.  One of the ambulance crew members offered Keiko a blanket as well.  She felt impatient about getting to the hospital already, and stared toward the front of the ambulance where she could vaguely see traffic and where they were headed.

    Fortunately the large man remained unconscious throughout the trip.  Once at the hospital, Keiko ignored the glare from the probation officer as he passed by - instead, she took out her cell phone and called for a cab.  She had to get back to Ron’s office.  Ironically, a cab would be cleaner than that probation officer’s car.

    She was right, too, the cab was indeed cleaner.  She ended up with one of those minivan taxicabs.  She climbed in quickly as it stopped outside the hospital, and closed the sliding door.  “Good afternoon,”  she said.  She handed the driver one of Ron’s cards for the address.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Been walking in the rain?”  the driver, an older man with an east coast accent, asked as he started the meter.  He noticed that Keiko was soaked, and shivering a little in the back of the cab.  He lowered the air conditioning for her, and noted her polite smile in the seat behind him.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I had quite a long afternoon,”  Keiko replied.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Sorry to hear that,”  the driver said.  “Don’t worry, we’ll be there in a few minutes.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Would you mind terribly,”  she asked as she leaned closer to the front seat, “stopping for coffee?  I need to warm up.  I’ll pay for the time.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Sure, no problem,”  he agreed.  “Where are you from, anyway?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Originally?”  she leaned back in the seat and folded her arms tightly to keep warm.  “Kyoto, Japan.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Is it nice there?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yes.”  Keiko nodded slowly.  “It’s beautiful.  I miss it sometimes.”

    The cab stopped in front of a small coffee shop.  “This is my favorite coffee place.”  He turned around and as Keiko reached for the door, he quickly added, “Let me run in for you.  You’re wet enough already.”

    Keiko thought about protesting, but she really didn’t feel like moving as water trickled down her neck.  “Okay,”  she replied.  “I would prefer mocha if you don’t mind.”

    With that the cab driver stepped out and headed into the coffee shop.  Keiko leaned forward both so she could see when he was returning, and to watch the traffic and rain.  And partly as a courtesy, because it was less likely the cab would be stolen if someone was obviously in it.

    The cab driver wasn’t gone long.  He stepped back into the cab and passed Keiko a warm cup of mocha.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Thank you,”  she said.  “How much did it cost you?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Just a couple bucks.  I’ll add it to your tab.”

    Keiko smiled and sat back in her seat to sip the hot coffee gently.  She made a note to herself to give him an excessive tip for his kindness.

    It took surprisingly little time to arrive back at Ron’s office.  She sighed as she watched the cab turn down that familiar street and approach that familiar storefront.  She hadn’t even finished her coffee yet.  Of course, it was also rude wasting the cab driver’s time when he could be collecting other fares.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Thank you for the ride.  And the coffee.”  Keiko reached forward with a hundred dollar bill before the cabbie even announced the fare.  “I don’t need any change,”  she said quickly as he reached for his cash box.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“No, no, I can’t take this much,”  he started to protest.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You bought me coffee, and you cared about my being cold,”  Keiko pointed out.  “There isn’t enough money to pay you back for that.”

    He smiled and nodded as he put the cash into the lock box.  “Thank you.  Thank you very much.”

    Keiko didn’t reply as she opened the minivan door and stepped out.  This time, the rain was irritating, adding to the chill she already felt, even though she wasn’t in it for long.  The storefront’s door had an overhang shielding it from the weather.  It allowed her to pause and try to peek through the paper over the glass, hoping maybe Ron wasn’t there.  Sadly, he was.

    She entered and walked in with a false confidence, like she used to when working for known criminals.  Any weakness in front of them could mean death.  Showing weakness in front of Ron would only encourage any negative impression of her he might have.

    Keiko entered and quickly and quietly walked to the back of the office.  Ron was there, of course, sitting quietly as if he expected her.  It was obvious that he already knew what happened.  “He survived it,”  Keiko said quickly.  “I would call that a success.”

    Ron nodded once.  “They paid the bounty.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“That’s what’s important.”  Keiko noted as she folded her arms and leaned against the wall.

    He shrugged.  “Yeah, in a way.  But in another way, they aren’t quite happy about how it was done.  It’s gonna take some...careful negotiation if they’re ever gonna hire either one of us again.”

    She frowned at that, but didn’t avoid Ron’s gaze.  “Nobody told me he had a heart condition.”

    Ron chuckled slightly.  “You’re gonna run into those kinds of things from time to time in the field.  The info you get in this business is not always clean.  Sometimes it’s not even close.”

    Keiko shrugged and sighed.  “I’ve never...failed before,”  she whispered.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well he ain’t dead or escaped, so you did okay in my book.”  Ron smiled.  “Besides, you got to put it behind you, because I got you another job.  This one’s a toughie.”

    She looked up, forgetting completely about the earlier disaster as she gave him her full attention.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“The first one was just an initiation, Keiko.  This one’s the real thing.”  Ron handed her a folder as he spoke.  “Kidnapping case, rich family.  They’re afraid to go to the cops, but they’re also afraid to hand over the cash themselves.  They called me because they wanted to bring in a pro.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Won’t they be upset when I show up instead?”  she asked.

    He seemed amused by that question.  “What they want is the trade to go off without a hitch.  They want someone who seems non-threatening, yet someone they see as expendable to make the trade.”

    Keiko nodded as she understood.  “And I’m small and non-threatening looking.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Exactly.”  Ron leaned forward and frowned.  “But on a personal note?  This is your specialty.  I hate kidnappers, and you’re the worst revenge I can think to spring on ‘em.  You got to take this case.”

    She slowly smiled as she said, “I’m in.”



TO BE CONTINUED



-- Story written and copyrighted (C) 2007 by Jason Froikin, and may not be 
--    reprinted without permission.  
-- World Class and all characters therein are property of 
--    Strike Two and Jason Froikin.