Okay, remember when I was at the fund-raiser in San Francisco and Jack was facing twenty-two armed adversaries, Paris was hiding under the table and the hall was burning around us? Well, the venue may have changed, but the song remains the same! At this very moment, Jack is running headlong into the outstretched (gun-toting) arms of many thugs with a screaming girl thrown over his shoulder, a wounded Alex is trailing behind Jack, (Up)Chuck is once again off somewhere vomiting, Paris is getting out of harm’s way and I am standing with some of Her Majesty’s Snootiest and wondering how the hell I am going to get Jack (and the rest of us) out of this one!
Let me backtrack.
I bring Jack back to the keep. Naturally, everyone is relieved to see him and he is relieved to see that I saved some of Sheila’s Scottish Surprise because the plain plane food can’t cure Payne’s hunger pains the way my food can.
The team gets together to formulate a plan. Unfortunately, Laurie needs constant care as a result of her unfortunate meeting with a rather large log and (it’s just a guess, but …) Sheila’s Scottish Surprise may not have agreed with (Up)Chuck’s digestive processes. We decide that it is best for him to stay, tend the ailing Ecstasy Queen and remain close to the porcelain altar. Jack begins to exude an inordinate amount of testosterone upon hearing about the Ultimate Fight and volunteers for punching bag duty. I am thinking that the only way he stands a chance is if we dress his opponent up as Monique, the French maid and tell him to aim at the door. I make a mental note to start writing Jack’s eulogy.
So, off to The Quickening we go. Jack drives with Paris, the only team member who has not been even remotely identified by the bad guys or contracted an abdominal ailment. Rossi, Alex and I go in Rossi’s car about ten minutes later.
Paris and Jack enter the club and go to the bar, where Jack orders two white wines. Trying to look manly as he sips his wine, he inquires about the Ultimate Fight. The skeptical bar tender tells him to check out front. Jack goes back to the lobby and asks the coat check chick about the fight. She tells him to find Ewan (who happens to be the ugly bald guy who had Rossi mug for the security cameras).
Jack finds Ewan and uses his charm and (lack-of) credentials to get a spot in the Ultimate Fight. While he goes downstairs to complete some paperwork leaving all of his worldly possessions to Paris, the agent, not the city, (sure, I am still waiting for him to replace my car and he leaves everything to her) and absolving the club from any liability relating to his upcoming death - I mean ass-kicking, Paris finds a table for them upstairs.
Rossi, Alex and I arrive at the club. Rossi stays in the car and Alex and I go inside. We find a booth on the first floor with a fairly good view of Paris’s table and then watch as Paris attracts a whole boatload of people. Apparently, most of the crew of the Tai-Pan II is attracted to the fair maiden who is somehow sitting alone in the club. Paris meets The Cabin Boy, the Cook, the Captain and the Owner’s Son (sounds like a bad British movie, doesn’t it?). She tells them that she is with someone, who happens to be inquiring about the Ultimate Fight. Thinking that they will have to contend with some burly muscle-bound he-man type for the attention of the lovely Paris, they deflate slightly. However, when Jack eventually finds his way to the table, they erupt in laughter.
When the laughter dies down, they ask Jack if he knows something that his opponent doesn’t. Jack replies that his opponent doesn’t know that he (the opponent, not Jack) is going to lose. Cabin Boy wants Jack to guarantee that he’ll win, but Jack will only guarantee a win.
As Paris is talking to the boat people, she remembers that they are arms dealers who do a lot of work in the South Pacific and engages in a clandestine conversation with the Cook that Jack, having taken, but not excelled in, Spy Speak 101, has trouble following.
Meanwhile, I am surprised to note the arrival at the club of Mitchell Stewart and Fiona Sheridan, the aforementioned members of Her Majesty’s Snootiest.
Alex (who has actually followed instructions for once and is not drinking) and I continue our surveillance of the club and, using both my keen vision and a well-timed 05, I see a man wearing a kilt engage in some sort of under the table exchange (so identified by the fact that it actually occurred under the table) with two people sitting at a booth on the other side of the club. Alex realizes that Kilt Boy is the Mystery Man who disappeared from Murdoch’s apartment a few nights ago. I tell Alex to save the table and follow Kilt Boy until he disappears into the employees only area behind the wait station. I return to the table and send Alex over to have a look at the two people in the booth.
Upstairs, Jack has noted some of Kilt Boy’s activities and tries to beep my transmitter pen, but I can’t hear it over the noise of the club. He calls me on my cell phone and asks me to meet him in the lobby. I motion Alex to come back to the table and go to meet Jack. I tell him that Kilt Boy is Mystery Man. Jack wants to beat the shit out of the little guy because he is wearing a skirt, but I tell him it’s not a good idea, because Kilt Boy’s activities are obviously (at least unofficially) sanctioned by the club, as he has access to the back rooms.
Jack goes back upstairs and asks Paris to dance so they can share information out of the Boat Peoples’ earshot.
So, Paris and Jack are dancing, a sober Alex and I are sitting in a booth watching the couple in the booth and the British spies who are watching everything, and Rossi is outside in the car head-banging (a la Wayne’s World) to Bohemian Rhapsody.
I decide it’s time to see what the Brits are up to, so I make my way toward their table. As I am passing the lobby, I see none other than Greg Murdoch with his arm in a cast, Elaine McConnell, Laura Williams, Debra Holden, Kilt Boy and two other guys entering the club. They head toward the booth where the two targets of our surveillance are sitting. I turn so Greg doesn’t see my face and call Paris’s cell phone.
A man answers. We engage in some fruity conversation about peeling bananas for several minutes, but he won’t put Paris on the phone. I hang up and call Jack’s cell phone.
A man answers. I am no longer going to peel his banana, I am going to slice and dice it. Finally, he hands Paris Jack’s cell phone, we talk for a minute and she tells me to hang on.
Then a man answers. This is ridiculous. I am now going to put his banana in a blender and make a shake. When Paris takes the phone back, I tell her that Greg Murdoch has arrived with his cast. She and Jack head downstairs, while I continue toward Fiona and Mitchell’s table.
As a professional courtesy, I tell them that we are there to rescue the Senator’s daughter from Ecstasy Boy. They don’t seem to care about the Senator’s daughter, but are extremely interested in the Ecstasy Connection. They begin interrogating me about what I know about the Ecstasy Connection, but I decide not to share any worthwhile information until Mitchell offers to buy the beer.
Meanwhile, Alex calls me and tells me that he is bored and wants to do something stupid. There’s a stretch. I tell him to wait, but knowing his record of not obeying my orders, I tell Mitchell and Fiona to expect trouble.
Jack and Paris are near Murdoch’s table. Sensing that the impending events were not conducive to having a lovely evening, Paris turns to go back upstairs. Alex approaches the table, leans toward Kilt Boy, asks for some Ecstasy and then leans forward to smile at Greg Murdoch.
Murdoch screams obscenities, jumps up and stabs Alex in the neck as Alex is dragging Kilt Boy out of the booth. Alex breaks Kilt Boy’s neck (but fails to say sorry) and gets punched by Murdoch. Dropping Kilt Boy, Alex punches Murdoch, who drops to the floor.
Alex is trying to grab Elaine, but apparently all the girls share the ability to emit the horrible shrieking sounds that Laurie Morano made at the apartment and, not only are glasses breaking all over the club (and Arlene is not even here), but the bald guy on the other side of the table is going for Alex.
Alex gives Baldie a punch from the front and Jack kicks Baldie from behind. Baldie tries to hit Alex, but Greg manages to f’in pull himself up from under the table which puts him in between Alex’s face and Baldie’s fist so he goes down again. Jack continues to pummel Baldie until he goes down.
There is much grabbing as Alex tries to grab Elaine, but she ducks under the table. Jack manages to grab her and throw her over his shoulder. The other guy challenges Jack, who is tiring of all this hitting and kicking, so he simply pulls out a gun and shoots the guy.
So, that brings us back to the present. Jack is running toward the door with a kicking, shrieking, wasted Elaine McConnell thrown over his shoulder, a bleeding Alex is running behind him, Paris has reached the safety of the second floor and I am standing with Fiona and Mitchell trying to decide how to get Jack and the rest of the team out of here alive.
Awards
Paris
Jack
Sheila
Alex
Rossi
(Up)Chuck
See Jack run. See Jack fight. See Jack pull gun. See Jack lose gun. See Jack lose girl. See Jack get girl. See Jack lose girl. See Alex fight. See Alex fly. See Jack fight some more. See Alex get girl. See Alex limp away. See Jack fight again. See Jack pull gun. See Jack lose gun. See Jack lose.
Well, that’s it in a nutshell, but for those who require more detail here goes:
Jack, with Elaine draped over his shoulder, and Alex are heading toward the exit when a man and woman get in their way. The woman engages Jack in hand to hand combat while the man tries to grab Elaine. Jack attempts to shoot the woman, but taking his lack of success with projectile weapons to the next level, fails to even get a shot off as the woman knocks his gun to the ground, and proceeds to kick Jack in the chest and punch him in the face.
The man grabs the girl and the crowd disperses. Alex picks up a glass and f’in hits the woman in the face with it. Jack struggles with the man and manages to get Elaine back. Alex attacks the woman, who kicks him, thus turning him into an Airborne Architect. By some f’in miracle he lands on Jack’s gun without it going off.
Meanwhile, the man has, once again, grabbed Elaine. Jack uses the ever successful chop ‘til they drop maneuver and the man finally falls to the ground. Jack then turns to fight the girl as a now Earthbound Alex crawls over to pick up Elaine. Jack heads to the bar only to be confronted by an Ugly Bad Guy who is holding a gun. Alex throws Jack his gun and (since it wasn’t Jack’s aim that mattered) Jack catches it and shoots Ugly Guy. Ugly Guy drops his gun and Jack backs away from him as Alex and Elaine limp toward the exit.
Then Bald Bad Guy uses a baton to knock the gun from Jack’s right hand, but somehow (again he wasn’t aiming here) Jack catches the gun with his other hand. However, Ugly Guy finds his weapon and the feel of cold steel at the back of his head causes Jack to drop his gun.
So, Bald Bad Guy and Ugly Guy are taking Jack to one of the doors leading to the club’s private areas. Several other club employees have evacuated the remaining people from the ill-fated booth through that same door.
Mitchell and Fiona standing near the booth, but I don’t feel like hanging around to see what they’re up to. I go to the lobby to look for Alex. The doors are just being reopened, but I don’t see any sign of Alex. I look up. Who do I see? *&@#$% Mulroy! Resisting the urge to pull out my gun and shoot the bastard, I say a little prayer for Jack (you know, Now Jack lays in shit too deep, he’ll never make it back to the keep, if he should wind up in a lake, I pray for … someone his soul to take) and head out to the parking lot.
I beep Rossi on the pen. To my surprise, Alex has made it to the car with Elaine and they are driving away. Unfortunately, Alex is losing an alarming amount of blood and Rossi doesn’t think he’ll survive. I tell him to go the Corey’s and call Paris, the agent, not the city.
She meets me in the parking lot, and I have her call Corey and tell him to expect incoming wounded.
As we are driving back to the keep, I make an anonymous phone call to the police to tell them that Jacques the Terrorist (giving Mulroy’s description) is in the club.
We arrive at the keep and find that (Up)Chuck has finally gained control of his digestive acids and is able to help bring Alex and Elaine in the house.
(Up)Chuck and Corey operate on Alex.
Paris and (Up)Chuck want to know what transpired at the club so I tell them: I went to talk to the Brits, Alex called me and said he wanted to do something stupid, Alex started a fight at Murdoch’s table, Jack joined in and they got Elaine out. Then they want to know where Jack is so I tell them: after he shot two guys, and despite some simply wonderful gun juggling, he was captured and taken into the back of the club. Oh yeah, and Mulroy is there. Paris freaks and Corey goes to the armory for some shotguns. I send Paris in to calm him down, but she stops at the sight of his big … guns. Anyway, they return to the kitchen and Corey gives (Up)Chuck a bigger weapon.
Corey takes Alex to some medical student friends of his, so they can help patch him up.
Back at the club: Jack is face to face with Mulroy who has decided by this time that a quick death is too good for Jack. He asks Jack several questions about where Paris is. Jack is less than cooperative, and Mulroy is only too happy to torture Jack in his quest for knowledge. Mulroy hopes to insult Jack by telling him that he is no terrorist, but Jack asks if he’ll write a note to that effect for Inspectors Clusine and Callaghan.
Paris, in full Mulroy-freak mode (this has become a disabling phenomenon among my team), drinks to excess and passes out at the table. In the middle of the night, Paris’s cell phone rings. A male voice gives her a cryptic message that Jack is near some bar in Falkirk. She tells me, so I call Jack’s cell phone. Boy does he sound like shit! He thinks he’s in an alley, but he doesn’t know where. I have him find a street sign and Paris consults her maps and finds out that he is fairly close to the bar. He tells me that he was tortured and they wanted to know about Paris, the agent, not the city.
Clearly, Paris can’t go to pick him up, since they are obviously setting a trap. I go to find (Up)Chuck and Paris goes to awaken Rossi.
Paris is banging on Rossi’s door when a shot rings out through the keep. After briefly thinking that Paris may have been shot, Rossi realizes she was not and manages to get her into his room (finally, he’s managed to get a woman to his room!). I haven’t been able to find (Up)Chuck but I do hear the gunshot so I take out my gun and head that way. (Up)Chuck and I manage not to shoot each other and I take a certain amount of satisfaction in the fact that he damages all residences he stays in, not just mine. He tells me that he has seen a helicopter drop men off in the woods. He runs to the hostages’ room and I go to get Rossi and Paris.
(Up)Chuck calls Corey who informs (Up)Chuck that we can’t leave through the secret passage from this room, because it will put us in a walled garden. We decide to not risk the extra time of getting to the armory and head for the front door. Rossi runs out first, but (Up)Chuck pulls him back in as a shot is fired. (Up)Chuck puts his bullet proof vest on Rossi and sends him back out (kind of like putting a life preserver on someone and sending them into a tidal wave, isn’t it?). However, Rossi once again returns to the keep as Paris’s car explodes in front of him. (Pretty soon, Paris will join me in the I’ve-been -blacklisted-by-every-reputable-car-rental-agency-in-the-world club.)
Deciding that the front door may not be the wisest choice of egress, we head to the armory. Rossi wants the security of having a firm grip on a steering wheel and heads to the barn to get his car.
Paris, (Up)Chuck, Elaine, Laurie and I are heading around the back of the keep. We hear the sounds of rapid gunfire from the direction that Rossi headed in.
Rossi is crouching low to avoid being seen, but he ‘ducks’ too well and becomes target practice. Thanks to (Up)Chuck’s bullet proof vest, he survives, but does take a shot in the leg.
Deciding that it was too difficult to keep both girls with us and unable to stand Laurie’s shrieking for another minute, we send her screaming into the night. We run to the back, hoping to make it to the Loch. (Up)Chuck gets shot and returns fire causing his opponent’s head to explode. I get shot from behind, but it’s only a flesh wound, so I keep going. (Up)Chuck comes back to tell us that there are men in front of us and I show him a bloody tangled lock of formally blonde hair to indicate that they are behind us, as well. He turns and heads toward the cover of a tree, in order to get to the water. I have no trouble seeing him, because of the nice little red light on his chest. I yell "duck," but (Up)Chuck, thinking I was referring to the rare Green Jello-Billed Scottish Game Duck fails to duck and gets shot again. Our attackers have also shot gas canisters in our direction, but they are apparently channeling Jack because they miss their mark causing a wall of gas to form in between them and us.
Using the wall of tear gas (a 1/6 regenerating blue creature that counts as a wall) as cover against their night-blinded soldiers (3/3 white soldiers with gas counters), we run full steam ahead for the water. Even though (Up)Chuck and I are wounded, we are stunned as Paris passes us by like the Roadrunner escaping from a plummeting Acme Anvil. We are even more surprised when she passes us again heading in the other direction. Apparently, there is a boat with armed men in the water. We head the other way.
Meanwhile, back at the stables, Rossi has gotten to a position where he can hear some of the communications of the opposing team. They believe that he is down and are unable to see us at the present moment.
As we are arguing about whether to go toward the field or try and take the boat, Rossi beeps me on the pen and tells me that they are prepared to open fire with a fifty caliber cannon from the boat. Ixnay on the oatbay. We decide to duck down and crawl toward the field. Elaine doesn’t duck fast enough, and the increasingly holey (no, he has not taken to deity worship) (Up)Chuck dives in front of her and takes a shot to the head. Paris and I stay low.
Rossi has decided to create a diversion by setting fire to the stables. He goes in to let the horses go. As he is standing in the middle of the floor, a tank bursts through the front doors. Rossi, looking like an African aborigine in the path of a stampeding hippo, is relieved when Corey opens the hatch and tells him to get in and drive. Happy finally to be driving something with some balls, Rossi obliges.
Paris, (Up)Chuck, Elaine and I are lying prone on the ground. My phone vibrates. I answer it (I never could stand the thought of an unanswered phone call). (Up)Chuck tries to get us to start crawling forward, but Paris tells him the I am on the phone. Rossi tells me he is in the tank that is heading toward us and I should say when.
Despite a really crappy attempt to stop and slide around to face the other direction that resulted in Corey’s dislocated shoulder, Rossi has managed to not run any of us over and I am thankful. We jump up and head toward the open hatch. I make it in. Paris gets shot in the foot, but makes it into the tank. Elaine gets shot and goes down. (Up)Chuck goes for her. Realizing that he will never make it in alive if he doesn’t drop the little druggie, I yell for him to forget about her. He finally does and makes it into the tank.
We make a successful escape and go to the medical student’s dorm for some tea and medical care. As the students begin patching us up by applying bandages and antiseptic, I notice that they fix Paris’s wound by bringing her a new pair of sneakers. I realize that even though we all got shot, Paris has had a lovely wounding!!
Jack is still in the alley waiting for us to come and get him when he hears motorcycles driving up and down the street, obviously looking for someone. They find him and tell him to come out from the dumpster he is hiding behind. Despite a broken trigger finger and a history of piss-poor success in gun fights, Jack opens fire. He manages to hit one of the riders, but gets shot from someone in a car that has pulled into the alley from the other direction, causing him to drop his gun. He pushes the dumpster out for cover and tries to get his gun. The sound of approaching sirens causes the riders and the car to leave the scene and Jack to go to jail … again.
(What follows is information that I, Sheila, didn’t find out until later, but in the interests of chronological order and some fun at the expense of a drunken GM, I am including it here.)
Mitchell and Fiona stayed at the club ‘til the bitter end. They had received a call earlier telling them that an anonymous caller had indicated that Jacques the Terrorist was in the club. Not wishing to blow their cover, they simply observed.
Upon returning to their hotel room, they received another call telling them that an operation to pick up Jacques the Terrorist was underway near Loch Lomond. They argue over who gets to drive the car with all the neat toys and head out.
They follow the flashing lights to the keep and find the leader of the military team. He tells them that his team recovered the hostages, but took four casualties and the terrorists got away. (Kind of sounds like one of my reports, doesn’t it?)
Britain’s Snootiest then give up looking for Inspector Quinn and find Inspector Gwyn, who tells them that their team messed everything up and Scotland Yard was not even notified of the operation in advance. Mitchell and Fiona quickly realize that the failure of the mission was due to bad intelligence: someone had sent the Special Spoats in to look for an American dentist that had been kidenapped, instead of sending the Special Boat Service in to look for an American Senator’s daughter that had been kidnapped.
After sharing information that Corey’s father had been denied a K and membership in the House of Lords amid some allegations that he had ties to Scottish Separatists and Scotland Yard suspects Corey of similar involvement, the Inspector does tell them that his wonderful police force was able to catch one of the terrorists in an alley in Falkirk, so they head to the hospital to talk to Jack.
I don’t know who was more confused by the ensuing interrogation, the Brits - who were told that Jack was at the keep, or Jack - who doesn’t remember much, but is pretty certain that he wasn’t at the keep in the past few hours.
Anyway Jack, who is suffering from two broken index fingers, five broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, three missing toenails, a broken kneecap and gunshot wounds to the leg and arm, is fairly susceptible to Mitchell’s torture tactic of gentle poking any part of Jack’s body, and Jack gives him my cell phone number, along with a request for no green jello and to tell me that he says, "hey."
Back at the dorm, (Up)Chuck has seen the local newscast showing that Jack is in jail and depicting Corey as a violent Scottish Separatist. My cell phone vibrates. I answer it and Mitchell tells me that Jack says, "hey" and asks what jello is. After clearing that mystery up, we agree to meet tomorrow at one in the afternoon near the festival.
A restless sleep settles over the team. Rossi smiles in his sleep as he drives the tank over fences, buildings and anything else that gets in his way. (Up)Chuck sleepily relives the evening’s events, but this time he is wearing a full suit of armor and has both girls gallantly thrown over his shoulder and walks unharmed through a hail of bullets and grenades. Paris dreams of a four star restaurant with an outstanding salad bar. Jack is having a nightmare that all of the hospital porridge has been dyed green. I have a lovely dream that I get to kill Mulroy with my cooking (a death that is surely bound to be even slower and more painful than Mulroy’s torture of Jack).
Awards
Paris
Sheila
Alex
Rossi
Jack
(Up)Chuck
The next morning we wake up to go to our meeting with Britain’s snootiest, Fiona and Mitchell. (Up)Chuck is not feeling well (this time it’s due to several bullet wounds, not my cooking), so we leave him at the Frat house.
Rossi steals a car for us so we can get to our meeting. We arrive at the Spy (Watering) Hole and see that Fiona and Mitchell are already there. While we are imparting and receiving information on ‘oo belongs to the violent Scottish Separatists and ‘oo is dealing Ecstasy to ‘oo, Fiona and I see a blonde chick clad in leather go to the bar. I notice that she’s looking for someone, and Fiona says that she’s recognized Paris, the agent, not the city, Rossi and me. I turn to get a better look at her and see her give money to the waitress who nods and glances at our table.
My phone vibrates, and I think there is something wrong with the piece of shit, because it’s stuck on high and gives me little shock every time it goes off. I answer it. It’s Simon Timothy. Now my trip to Scotland is complete. I tell him where we are and he says he’s on his way.
Fiona and Mitchell leave and Paris, the agent, not the city, goes to buy some toiletries for us. I am not so happy to learn that I am the only one who is sans passport. You know, you’re happy to stay in the sauna until you know that the door is locked and you can’t leave.
I tell Rossi that we have to wait for company. He wants to know who the company will be, but I tell him not to worry, just don’t hit him with a beer mug. He promptly orders three (beer mugs that is).
My phone shocks me again. It’s Simon Timothy and (big testosterone surprise) he’s lost. I give him directions.
Simon finally arrives with (Nun)Chuck and introduces himself as Jake Jake Something or Other. He wants to know what’s happened so I let him have it (the story, not the beer mug): ‘We found the girl in the Quickening and got her safely back to the keep, but then the Special Spoats attacked and we were lucky to escape with our lives (but not the girls), thanks to the Wall of Gas and the sword-wielding Scot with the tank, but somehow, Jack wound up getting arrested in an alley after being tortured by Mulroy, so we went to the Frat house to get patched up, and by the way, I wouldn’t eat those Fish n’ Chips, because the blonde leather chick paid the waitress to poison our food.’
He stares at me for a moment and then takes out his little notebook and starts writing things down, while mumbling something about paranoid delusions. I feel like I’m with my therapist. This sucks! I’m in a country where you’re lucky if the waste hole they’ve dug is more than six inches deep and they eat foods made out of sheep body parts whose existence I don’t even like to acknowledge, I have no money, except what I grubbed from Rossi, no ID, no passport to get out of this hell hole, and no relief for the ache caused by my head wound because my extra-large bottle of extra strength aspirin is in my pocket book back at the keep.
Anyway, Paris returns and Jake Jake, who’s starting to look as though he needs some of my extra-strength aspirin tablets, tells me that he’ll follow us, so I ask him how slowly he can drive. He is less than pleased to learn that we have no wheels and he has to drive us around.
We leave the pub, and everybody (except me) notices a gray sedan that seems to be watching us. Paris tells me she hates having her picture taken and, after having a Miami flashback, I look around, but still don’t see the car. (Nun)Chuck starts to cross the street toward the phantom car, which then takes off (and finally I see it and am able to get the license plate number).
We go to Alex’s Sheraton Hotel. While Jake Jake/Simon waits in the car with Paris slumped in the back seat (you know things are bad when Paris is slumping), Rossi goes up to Alex’s room, I go to buy some smokes and (Nun)Chuck, our favorite Vietnamese guy with the Japanese name who usually hangs around in Chinatown, spots the same gray sedan watching us and does some back flips across the parking lot to get into position to sneak up on the car. (Okay, so he didn’t do the back flips, but they always do that in the movies and it would have been fun to watch.)
Rossi gets off the elevator on Alex’s floor and sees two uniformed officers guarding the door which has a large yellow taped X across it (had it been Jack’s room, they surely would have used duct tape). He turns and leaves.
Outside, (Nun)Chuck sneaks up on the car and puts a knife to the passenger’s throat. The passenger, who was taking photos, drops the camera and goes limp while the driver points a silenced sub-machine gun at (Nun)Chuck.
While they bicker and argue over who has the upper hand, I knock on the ISIS car window so Jake Jake can enjoy the show with me, however, he is not nearly as amused as I.
(Nun)Chuck jumps away from the car while throwing a knife into the tire. The car takes off and (Nun)Chuck runs back to our car, jumps in and tells us to follow the sedan.
Fed-Boy (Jake Jake) takes off after the gray sedan. Surprisingly, the knife to the tire has failed to slow their progress. Of course, the guys lose them, and Paris and I have to point out where the sedan is. We see them go down an alley, and Fed-Boy tries to follow.
You know how in the movies, when a car tries to fit through an opening that’s not as wide as the car, the fenders are sheared off and a narrower more smushed version of the car emerges out the other side like it’s gone through a little Play-do car factory? Yeah, well that doesn’t really happen. Actually, the car comes to a screeching halt and the passengers are thrown forward by the sudden stop in momentum. Rossi and I are fine, but Paris takes some damage and screams, which causes some distress to Rossi’s ear drums, although not as much as Alex’s dragon sighting did to mine and nowhere near the damage that Jack took from a close encounter with the librarian Arlene.
(Nun)Chuck jumps out of the car and takes off after the sedan (still no back flips - what kind of Ninja dude is he?) Jake Jake allows Rossi to drive and Rossi rolls really well, allowing him to take the car on two wheels down the alley. The car lands on all fours on the other side of the alley and we pick up (Nun)Chuck.
As we are following the sedan, (Nun)Chuck describes the weapons and car equipment, and we decide that they must be military. Thinking that perhaps we weren’t so much following as being led, we break off the chase.
We weren’t the only ones having problems with the whole driving/following thing. Fiona and Mitchell, after an argument about who gets to drive, are being followed as they leave the pub. Fiona manages to lose them, but only after scaring the haggis out of Mitchell.
They go to the hospital to see everyone’s favorite terrorist, Jack. Mitchell had asked me for some key phrases to tell Jack, so that Jack would know that they had spoken with me. Mitchell tells Jack that I said, "ha ha, I’m not staying at the Best Western, a small Swiss Alps village thanks him for the cell phone, and Mulroy says hey."
Jack tells him everything.
Meanwhile, we go back to the Frat house, and Jake Jake offers to take (Up)Chuck and Alex to the airport and send them home. I’m wondering if I can reopen my head wound and get sent home.
(Nun)Chuck wants to know who he can kill. I tell him that if he goes to the hospital, it is probably a good bet that Mulroy will try to send someone in to take care of Jack.
He takes the train to Glasgow.
After walking all around the hospital, he doesn’t see an unguarded door through which to gain entry, so he goes to the ER and cuts himself in the bathroom. The triage nurse asks him a lot of nosy questions, but never leaves him alone so he can get to the rest of the hospital He finally tells her that he’s going to be sick (that would make him (Nun(not none)-Up)Chuck!), and goes to the bathroom.
He finds some hospital greens and waits until someone else is going through the card access doors into the main hospital. Wishing to avoid detection, he goes into the stairwell. Unfortunately, he finds that once in the stairwell, he needs a card to gain access onto any floor. Knowing that his shuriken will not help him with this lock, he waits at the floor where Jack’s room is until some custodian opens the door. As (Nun)Chuck is trying to get out of the stairwell, a cop is running down the hall yelling ‘can’t you read’ at the poor immigrant custodial worker. (Nun)Chuck then sees a sign instructing the staff to use only the elevators, by order of the police department.
While Baku, the custodian gets out of the way, (Nun)Chuck does the old reverse friendly sternum rub, sending the policeman to the floor. (Nun)Chuck yells to the other cop that this guy is having a heart attack and instructs him to begin CPR. As the Code Blue announcements are made, (Nun)Chuck enters Jack’s room and says "you’re dead."
When the excitement dies down, and the cop goes to Jack’s room, Jack is freaking out. He is yelling that they are incompetent and he was almost killed by an assassin. The cop finds out that Jack is on morphine and, with a knowing nod, tells Jack that he’ll send a detective in to talk to him. Somehow, Jack gets the feeling that they don’t believe him.
Mitchell and Fiona go to their local field office to get some information. They are trying to find out who ordered a military action against the terrorists. It was Ewan Armstrong, the bald ugly guy from the Quickening, who happens to be former Special Forces. They get the names of the agents from Scotland Yard and the DEA that are working on a drug case against Llewelyn Flinn and Co. They also learn that Paris and I are wanted by name and description, and Rossi is wanted by description.
Mitchell phones and tells me (I think I should time my cigarette cravings with expected phone calls, thus getting a sort of home-made shock treatment) that we are wanted and suggests that Ben Black, who is in town, could help make us look not so much like us. Ben calls and tells me that he’ll make arrangements and call me back.
Rossi has decided that the Mulroy file he took from AJ’s apartment in San Francisco might come in handy, so he phones his dad and tells him to remove it - and only it - from under his mattress (you know, inquiring minds do not want to know what else is under there) and fax it to London. Papa Rossi is not inclined to help Junior out, so Rossi bribes him with the promise of a mint ’67 Camaro. Papa Rossi reluctantly agrees. Junior gives his dad the phone number and has the computer geek at the Frat house wait for the fax.
After some time, Rossi calls back and asks his dad what happened to the fax. Since Papa Rossi didn’t use degreaser before writing the number down, he dialed the number wrong and it got faxed to the Jaguar Club (the Internet service that is loosely linked to the whole Quickening gang). Rossi has Papa Rossi re-fax the file.
Paris and I are a little concerned about the safety of Rossi’s family, and a lot concerned about ours. Rossi quickly makes arrangements for his family to fly to Aunt J J’s (no relation to Jake Jake) in Phoenix and we get ready to leave.
Jake Jake returns as we are rushing out and I tell him that we have to get out of here now, because the bad guys might be on their way. He is very happy. Then I tell him that we are wanted. He is thrilled. Then I tell him that he has to drive us to Glasgow to pick up (Nun)Chuck. He is absolutely overjoyed. Ben Black calls and we arrange to meet on a movie set in Dundee for some face painting. I tell Jake Jake that he has to drive us to Dundee. He is practically turning cartwheels (not back flips - he isn’t a Ninja Dude). I’m so glad I could make his day!
We pick (Nun)Chuck up across from the hospital and head to Dundee. It’s very late when Ben finishes with our make-up so we stay on the movie set overnight.
The next morning I call in to report. They sound even less thrilled than usual to hear from me and tell me that Jake Jake has to go to London to pick up some papers. Afterward, I spit my coffee out over a newspaper story that implicates ISIS, the agency, not the goddess, in the kidnapping of a senator’s daughter and the mayhem caused by the terrorists at the keep.
Not wishing to cause Jake Jake any more distress than I already have (actually, I was afraid he’d yell causing me another headache, and I still don’t have my aspirin back), I tell him that he has to go to London but I fail to mention the whole ISIS terrorist kidnapping thing. He leaves telling us that he’ll be back later, but I don’t think so!
So, here we are on the set of the aptly named upcoming film, "Spies Without a Clue," we are wanted by both the police and the bad guys, Paris is having the I-only-have-one-change-of-clothing breakdown, (Nun)Chuck is having the I-need-someone-to-kill breakdown, Rossi is having the I’ve-killed-my-family breakdown, and I am just having a good old-fashioned total breakdown.
Then Mitchell calls. I finally took my phone off vibrate out of some sense of self-preservation, but unfortunately, the ringer is stuck on ear-drum piercing loud, and I am forced to hold it to my non-dominant phone ear. First he tells me that someone has ordered a ‘cleaner,’ who is on the way. I’m not sure to where so I tell Corey to call the Frat house and tell the guys to vacate. Unfortunately, when he calls the Frat house, the phone is answered by Inspector Something-Scottish.
Then Mitchell informs me that they have a safe-house for us to go to. Excitedly, we are about to send Rossi out to steal another car, when (Nun)Chuck tells us that he can actually rent one. Okay, better plan. So Ben drives him to rent a car and we head to the safe house.
We make a stop at a store to buy a change of clothing and Rossi picks up a very loud red bag with some really ugly trim. He is very pleased with his purchase, until he sees it in the light of day, at which point he decides that it is only fit for Jack, the International Cabaret Terrorist, and refuses to touch it again, lest we begin to call him Rossi Dudette.
Upon arriving, we surrender our weapons, although it takes several tries to pry (Nun)Chuck loose from everything he has with him. Rossi is removing the driveway gravel that he accumulated on his hanging tongue while passing by the spy car of Mitchell and Fiona. I tell him that he cannot steal that car and he should wipe the drool from his chin.
We all sit down to impart. Not surprisingly, Cahill joins us at the table. I introduce him to the team. He tells the team to call him Rich, but knowing my penchant for unflattering nicknames and the potential trouble that could lead to, I decide to stick with Cahill.
We share all of our intelligence (believe me, that didn’t take long) with the Brits. It turns out that they are not so keen on catching Sir Keene. They would prefer to keep his name out of the whole mess. Corey, whose father’s name is MacMud thanks to Sir Keene Elliot, is not terribly thrilled with that. Anyway, deciding to concentrate our efforts on Llewelyn Flinn, we formulate a plan.
Corey has an invitation to the upcoming Festival Ball at the Quickening. He will take Paris, who will promptly give the raspberry to Mulroy, Flinn and anybody else that she can piss off. Rossi will be their driver. Fiona and Mitchell will attach themselves to some other snooty Brit and go in. I like this plan because it doesn’t involve me. If only I had a passport, I could use the alone time to go back to France, my therapist, my neat and orderly apartment and my home supply of extra-strength aspirin!
Awards
Paris
Sheila
Alex
Rossi
Jack
(Up)Chuck
Simon Timothy
Recommendations
Paris
Sheila
Alex
Rossi
Jack
(Up)Chuck
Simon Timothy
Well, we are all at the safe house (except for Jack, who is still trying to stomach green porridge at the hospital) and Fiona and Mitchell are able to trace the license plate from the gray sedan. The car belongs to the SPOATS. We are all thankful that our teeth are still intact as we think about how close we would have been to a dental disaster, had we tried to follow the Special SPOATS.
Since they wouldn’t let me cook dinner in their snobby kitchen and we were not content to sit in the lap of luxury in the British safe house (and we want to help Paris, the agent, not the city, regain the security of having more than one change of clothing), we go to the nearby town, Maypole. While Paris, Rossi and I shop, (Nun)Chuck wanders the town in search of some contacts. He is unsuccessful in his quest to find Maypole’s Chinatown and dejectedly meets us at a pub for dinner.
After a few moments, we point out the Chinese laundry shop across the street. (Nun)Chuck brightens considerably at the sight of the small Yakuza marking in the corner of the sign. Apparently, (Nun)Chuck is not the only Orientally-confused Asian in town.
(Nun)Chuck returns to the pub to tell us that he has used his connections to get into the Ultimate Fight Challenge for tonight due to the mysterious disappearance of contestant Jack Payne. He takes the car, so we have to call Mitchell to come and get us.
So while (Nun)Chuck goes off to get his ass kicked (after first getting lost on the way to the Quickening), we go back to the safe house. Fiona and Mitchell go to the Quickening to watch (Nun)Chuck’s fight. As expected, (Nun)Chuck is getting soundly thrashed, but then (finally choosing to heed my advice) he does some back flips and ends up with his foot on his opponent’s throat. I’d say it was an f’in miracle, but it was just f’in.
Too weak to drive back to the safe house after being beaten to a bloody pulp even though he won, (Nun)Chuck asks the Quickening staff if they have somewhere that he can stay, so they send him home with a girl named Mel. He gets some confirmation from her about the drug dealing at the Quickening, but she isn’t very talkative about the club’s illicit activities.
Fiona and Mitchell return to the safe house and everybody goes to sleep. Sometime in the middle of the night, my cell phone rings (actually, ring is no longer an appropriate word for the noise emitted by the device in question, which now rivals the unpleasant and loud sound of a fire alarm) and I fall out of bed to answer it. It’s (Nun)Chuck telling me what he’s done, where he is and that he has an invitation to Sunday’s festival ball. As I hang up with him, Cahill comes to the door and wants to know what the noise was. I tell him it was my phone and he re-holsters his weapon. Re-holsters his weapon! Hey! How come he still has his gun? I have decided that I don’t like it here. I get back into bed and think about my phone again. Perhaps I should put it back on vibrate and coordinate cigarette cravings with incoming calls, creating a sort of home-made shock therapy …
I just fall asleep when there is a knock on the door. It’s Jake Jake and apparently, he is not a fan of double names. Does everybody get to see my reports? What happened to confidentiality? I offered JJ up as an alternative, but he didn’t seem to like that either. I offer to leave quietly (with no nickname calling) if he’ll just get my passport from Cahill, but he is not terribly helpful. I think I shall find the most annoying nicknames for him that I can in the hopes that he’ll throw me out of the UK.
The next morning, Jack is rather surprised to see an Irish nun and priest enter his hospital room. They want to hear his confession (and Jack desperately wants to give it), but the bobby won’t leave the room. The priest manages to get the call button out of Jack’s grubby broken-fingered hand and dangles it out of reach. The nun then leaves the room and returns with the other policeman. Jack finds himself being grateful that he’s out of Catholic school and no longer subject to punishments meted out by the teaching staff as he watches the nun and priest use stun guns on the bobbies. Jack feels a certain affinity to the priest who is not able to successfully stun the man and instead has to beat the cop with the stun gun. Of course, that feeling disappears quickly as the priest and nun approach with less than Christian intentions.
Jack is even more surprised when the nun takes a Polaroid picture of him and the priest. Then they switch and Jack takes the opportunity to kick the nun in the nose. However, (sometimes you want to roll high Jack) she laughs at the tickling sensation. Jack then grabs her and pulls her over him to use as a shield. The priest shoots him in the chest.
At that moment, a candy striper comes in with Jack’s afternoon porridge. Then the priest gets shot by something that came through the windows, which have also been shot out. The nun tries to grab the priest and run out, and gets shot. The candy striper loses her stripes (and her rib cage) as she is shot.
The priest and nun run out of the room, pull the fire alarm and escape down the stairs.
Back at the safe house, Cahill gets a phone call telling him that there has been an attempt on Jack’s life. Fiona and Mitchell go to the hospital to talk to him, and Cahill and I drive around the area looking for clues.
Fiona and Mitchell enter Jack’s new windowless room and ask what happened. They are joined by Officer Something-Scottish and an American DEA agent, who want to know if Jack saw a knife, or if he’s sure it was bullets that killed the candy striper, because there was no bullet or exit wound in the body. Jack doesn’t recall seeing a knife (but it would have been hard with the covers over his face).
Jack tells them that he thinks the Catholic Church is trying to kill him. They all look at the IV bag and nod knowingly, but Jack doesn’t let up. His story is: after he finished his porridge, the nun and priest came in to hear his confession, but instead they used stun guns on the bobbies, took some pictures of him, shot him, may or may not have shot the candy striper and left.
The detective adds the Church to the list of would-be suspects, right after the verbal assassin, who yelled ‘you’re dead,’ at him.
Baku, a former member of the Bombay Bombers - rival gang to the Calcutta Cutters, is in the hall yelling that he now has to clean up all of the blood, while the forensic experts try to stop him from mopping until they’ve completed their evidence gathering.
Jack manages to give a decent description of the … clergy members and Mitchell makes a good sketch. He gives Mitchell and Fiona some messages for me: he says ‘hey’ and I should get him the hell out of there. Oh good, an easy request. I’m glad he didn’t ask for anything difficult.
Meanwhile, Cahill and I have not managed to find anything, but Cahill uses the time in the car to share with me his distrust of and suspicions about Corey.
Paris, the agent, not the city, spends the afternoon shopping for a dress for the ball. Finally, once again having an evening gown in her possession, she happily returns to the safe house. As she drives onto the property, she notes that Rossi, who sadly watched as all of the neat spy cars drove off the property without him behind the wheel, has pulled a Tim Allen on the rider mower, and he, Roger, the shrubber, and Giles, the gardener, are racing John Deeres across the front lawn.
We all eventually return to the safe house, except for (Nun)Chuck who has managed to find a hotel room somewhere in the area. As we sit around the table, we draw a conclusion: the Ice Queen, a Russian hit-person, is the sniper from the hospital and she must be using ice projectiles, which would account for the lack of forensic evidence, a suspicion that Paris had in San Francisco after the similar shooting there. The Ice Queen must be using Jack as bait to get Mulroy out in the open, so the Russians can have their revenge on him for the Versailles disaster.
Our plan for the evening is to have Fiona and Mitchell go back to the Quickening so they can watch Charlie go from (Nun)Chuck to (Ground)Chuck during the finals competition, Paris and Rossi will take a shuriken and go to the Caledonian Hotel to break into Mathilde Vaughn’s (the owner of the Jaguar Club) room, while Cahill, Corey and I go to the Military Tattoo to keep an eye on Flinn, Keane and company.
Haven’t done an inventory in awhile, huh? Well here’s what we’ve got: a Japanese-named Vietnamese guy who hangs around in Chinatown and finds connections in Scottish Chinese laundry shops with Yakuza markings; a Federale who doesn’t like nicknames (or me); a driver who has a raccoon-eye face tan from wearing sunglasses too much, hot rods rider mowers and needs a shuriken to break into anyplace; a beautiful appropriater who has a lovely evening wherever she goes, but is only complete when she has two or more changes of clothing, an evening dress and a decent salad; and me, and I am still bemoaning the loss of my favorite aspirin bottle and my inability to fix my damn cell phone or get out of this sheep-ridden, haggis-eating shit-hole.
What are we up against? I’ll tell you: a vicious brute squad led by Ack and Pain (dear GM: you didn’t think I was going to let that slip by unnoticed, did you???), a very qualified and deadly (putting him right out of our league) director of security, Cowan Collin, a possibly corrupt politician that the British authorities don’t want implicated, a huge pharmaceutical company, an entertainment conglomerate, a plot by the Catholic Church to kill Jack, a plot by the electronic devices of the world to drive me insane, Scotland Yard and the ever deadly SPOATS.
Awards
Paris
Sheila
Rossi
Jack
(Nun)Chuck
Simon Timothy
Recommendations
Paris
Sheila
Rossi
Jack