Endeavour
Flashlight Enthusiast
In continuation of chapter one, here is the thread for chapter two. A few folks asked me to post it before the weekend, so I'll post half now, half Saturday (It's entirely written, as well as other chapters, but I don't want to run out of things to post). It delves into things a little bit more than Chapter One. Commentary, criticism, etc. welcome and encouraged. /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/smile.gif Basically, are you all enjoying this such that I should continue posting additions to it here?
Anyway, without further delay...
Chapter Two (Pt. 1)
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"Please fasten your seatbelts as we make our final approach and landing."
John Trotto buckled his seatbelt and continued work on his laptop.
"Please put your tray tables up and your seatback in its full and upright position, and turn off any and all electronic devices."
A flight attendant walked down the aisles and checked to make sure everyone followed the given directions.
"Sir, we are on our final approach and Federal Law mandates…"
John Trotto flashed a badge at her that read: AGENT JOHN TROTTO | CIA.
"I'm sorry to have disturbed you sir, but please use your computer on your lap so as not to disturb the passenger in front of you."
John grumbled. The plane ride and service had been a complete joke. There was no food service, and no snacks were served since a person on board was deathly allergic to peanuts, and even the scent would trigger convulsions. On top of that, the cooling units in the airplane had a wire shorted by the last maintenance crew, so all the ice had melted and the drinks were warm.
Just leave me be and hurry up and land… Let me off this damn plane.
15 minutes later the plane landed, making the signature squeal and smoke of passenger planes as it makes contact with the tarmac.
John finished up his work and packs up his machine. It had been a long flight from Washington to California, where he had agreed to meet Jim . He had been briefed in detail over the phone about this woman assassin who tried to kill Jim while he was repairing his car. He had called a few contacts within the Central Intelligence Agency to dig up what they had on Jim, and any see if anyone had any record of female assassins, which are few and far between.
A half hour later John is standing outside the baggage terminal waiting for Jim to arrive in the black Toyota Tundra that he had stolen. He turned up about 5 minutes later and John entered the vehicle, tossing his large bag in the back seat.
"Jim."
"John."
"Long time no see Jim, I wish circumstance would have found us in a better situation."
Jim doesn't reply.
"You look rather ragged, let's head over to the Hotel del Coronado in San Diego and stay the night. We'll sort this out then. Pretty close shots there in the windows, you're lucky…"
John pulled out his PDA, hooked up the GPS system, and punched in the address for the hotel. The device mapped out its route and began dictating when the next turns should be.
"Fine." Jim replied.
Jim drove through the night to reach California from Iowa, and is nearly mute due to a strong caffeine induced sleeplessness in order to not have to stop anywhere on the road. The conversation throughout the ride to the hotel is minimal. John pops open his laptop again and begins searching government databases with the license plate number of the car, which, expectedly, is registered to a rental car agency back in Iowa. He puts away all his equipment and watches the road.
An hour later the two men arrived at the hotel and check in. They're escorted to the room by a bellhop, who waits a tentatively for a few seconds, expecting a tip that won't come, then leaves.
"Get some sleep, Jim. I'm going to unpack a few things and make a couple of calls."
Jim nodded and quickly fell into a light sleep, his body rather unsuccessfully trying to confound the effects of the remaining chemical sleeplessness.
4 hours later he woke up, groggy but significantly more rested than before.
John looked up away from his laptop and put a hand over the receiver of the phone.
"Good, you're awake! Now, while I finish things up here, please, take a shower. You look disheveled and smell worse than that."
Jim laughed wryly and went into the bathroom to wash himself off.
"Hello, Klaus?"
"Ja, I'm still here."
"Jim just woke up, told him to get in the shower."
"Ah, yes."
"Well, I'll give you a call again if we need anything, you can be ready at a moments notice, correct?"
"Of course John. Just let me know if you ever need anything. You're welcome to use some of our safehouses in Germany if you need to as well."
"Thanks Klaus. I'll keep you in mind."
John hung up the phone and turned off his laptop. He tossed himself into the bed Jim had been sleeping on, and turned on the TV. His suitcase is still sitting unopened on the other bed.
....More to come Saturday
-----------------
-EM
Anyway, without further delay...
Chapter Two (Pt. 1)
-------------
"Please fasten your seatbelts as we make our final approach and landing."
John Trotto buckled his seatbelt and continued work on his laptop.
"Please put your tray tables up and your seatback in its full and upright position, and turn off any and all electronic devices."
A flight attendant walked down the aisles and checked to make sure everyone followed the given directions.
"Sir, we are on our final approach and Federal Law mandates…"
John Trotto flashed a badge at her that read: AGENT JOHN TROTTO | CIA.
"I'm sorry to have disturbed you sir, but please use your computer on your lap so as not to disturb the passenger in front of you."
John grumbled. The plane ride and service had been a complete joke. There was no food service, and no snacks were served since a person on board was deathly allergic to peanuts, and even the scent would trigger convulsions. On top of that, the cooling units in the airplane had a wire shorted by the last maintenance crew, so all the ice had melted and the drinks were warm.
Just leave me be and hurry up and land… Let me off this damn plane.
15 minutes later the plane landed, making the signature squeal and smoke of passenger planes as it makes contact with the tarmac.
John finished up his work and packs up his machine. It had been a long flight from Washington to California, where he had agreed to meet Jim . He had been briefed in detail over the phone about this woman assassin who tried to kill Jim while he was repairing his car. He had called a few contacts within the Central Intelligence Agency to dig up what they had on Jim, and any see if anyone had any record of female assassins, which are few and far between.
A half hour later John is standing outside the baggage terminal waiting for Jim to arrive in the black Toyota Tundra that he had stolen. He turned up about 5 minutes later and John entered the vehicle, tossing his large bag in the back seat.
"Jim."
"John."
"Long time no see Jim, I wish circumstance would have found us in a better situation."
Jim doesn't reply.
"You look rather ragged, let's head over to the Hotel del Coronado in San Diego and stay the night. We'll sort this out then. Pretty close shots there in the windows, you're lucky…"
John pulled out his PDA, hooked up the GPS system, and punched in the address for the hotel. The device mapped out its route and began dictating when the next turns should be.
"Fine." Jim replied.
Jim drove through the night to reach California from Iowa, and is nearly mute due to a strong caffeine induced sleeplessness in order to not have to stop anywhere on the road. The conversation throughout the ride to the hotel is minimal. John pops open his laptop again and begins searching government databases with the license plate number of the car, which, expectedly, is registered to a rental car agency back in Iowa. He puts away all his equipment and watches the road.
An hour later the two men arrived at the hotel and check in. They're escorted to the room by a bellhop, who waits a tentatively for a few seconds, expecting a tip that won't come, then leaves.
"Get some sleep, Jim. I'm going to unpack a few things and make a couple of calls."
Jim nodded and quickly fell into a light sleep, his body rather unsuccessfully trying to confound the effects of the remaining chemical sleeplessness.
4 hours later he woke up, groggy but significantly more rested than before.
John looked up away from his laptop and put a hand over the receiver of the phone.
"Good, you're awake! Now, while I finish things up here, please, take a shower. You look disheveled and smell worse than that."
Jim laughed wryly and went into the bathroom to wash himself off.
"Hello, Klaus?"
"Ja, I'm still here."
"Jim just woke up, told him to get in the shower."
"Ah, yes."
"Well, I'll give you a call again if we need anything, you can be ready at a moments notice, correct?"
"Of course John. Just let me know if you ever need anything. You're welcome to use some of our safehouses in Germany if you need to as well."
"Thanks Klaus. I'll keep you in mind."
John hung up the phone and turned off his laptop. He tossed himself into the bed Jim had been sleeping on, and turned on the TV. His suitcase is still sitting unopened on the other bed.
....More to come Saturday
-----------------
-EM
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