November 8, 2006

Catching Up On Some Earlier Characters (Or, Where Are They Now?) (15154)

Posted in Uncategorized at 4:08 pm by Ian

He hurried down the steps. Hurried so quickly that he didn’t see Pete sleeping near the bottom steps until it was too late. Steve pulled his foot, but, unable to check his momentum, crashed into the floor at the foot of the staircase so hard that a beer can and a banana peel fell off the couch. He picked himself up, cursed the cat, and walked to the door. Opening the door and stepping outside, he took a few calming breaths before stepping off the porch.

And… a little while later.

Agent Corea saw the car approach. He refrained from calling anything in. He rose from the couch and reholstered his sidearm, but left his right hand resting on the handle. Kitchen cop was still in there, and with any luck would stay there. John entered the doorway and stopped just inside.
“Who are you?” asked John.
“I’m with the FBI,” said Corea, as he flipped open his ID holder. “We believe that you received a package this morning with sensitive information within. Do you still have the package?”
“Yes.”
“Give it to me.”
“It’s not on me.”
Corea unholstered his weapon and pointed it at John’s head.
“Give it to me.”
Agent Corea slid the action of his gun back, loading a round into the chamber. John’s knees failed to buckle, no matter how much he wanted them to.
“Now now, calm down. Pointing a gun at him isn’t going to help things. Look, sir, it’s not a big deal, but we’re gonna need to take you in for some questi—Uuhhn”
The cop from the kitchen had come into the living room and had been moving towards John with hands outstretched. Corea had plunged his left fist with alarming speed into the cop’s solar plexus, and he went down with a grunt. During the whole affair, neither Corea’s gun nor his eyes had moved from John’s head.
“Give it to me.”
John’s eyes went wide and he took one unsteady step backwards. He was not thinking clearly, just trying to get away from the madman in pointing a weapon at him. Corea stepped forward.

Agent Corea’s foot came down on a lump of something brown that crunched, and he felt himself start to lose control. The beer can crumpled under his weight and flattened around his foot, providing an excellent smooth surface for the banana peel to lubricate. Corea’s foot slid forward quickly, throwing his legs into an impromptu split and his body off to the side. He squeezed off a shot and the door frame just behind John burst into splinters. John fled.

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