Well, apparently the stunning success of my first mission as an operative has inspired enough confidence in me that ISIS, the agency, not the goddess, has decided to have me run another mission: to retrieve some information on former Soviet nuclear secrets from an Internet information broker before he has a chance to look through or make copies of it.
That introductory paragraph was completed prior to the start of this mission and I am less optimistic now. The room is burning down around me, Paris is hiding under a table, Jack and Karin have committed more crimes than Bonnie and Clyde in one short day, we still haven’t gotten any information on the transfer of the Soviet data, and the International Terrorist, Jacques, has been captured by the SFPD
Okay, back to the calm beginning, when the possibility of success was more than just a fond memory.
I check in with the sleep clinic to assess (Up)Chuck’s battle-readiness. Unfortunately, (Up)Chuck is still not able to achieve consciousness for any usable length of time. They inform me that he is having some recurring nightmare about barium enemas and a date with a male French detective, and they are concerned that he is danger of developing bed sores if he doesn’t start moving around. Thinking about my ruined shoe collection, I tell them to let him sleep.
I decide to assemble the Cracker Jack team from the Miami mission: Jack, Paris, the agent, not the city, and Karin. I brief them in LA and then we head up to San Francisco.
Paris has gotten us rooms at the Savoy, “a slice of Paris, the city not the agent, in San Francisco.” Since Jack is vowing to burn anything even remotely related to Paris, the city not the agent, I am again grateful that he is still not in possession of a flame thrower. The target of our investigation is a company called LOIS, its CEO, Mr. Murphy, and security officer, Anthony Justice (AJ). The team heads out to dinner and I settle in next to the wet bar (it’s as close as I could come to water as there is a decided lack of pools in the area hotels) to begin my hazardous duties as an operative.
While at dinner, Karin notices a couple who are speaking English in regular tones, but switching to some Slavic language and speaking quietly at certain intervals. Having an East German-bred distrust for things Slavic, she points it out to Paris and Jack.
As the next day dawns, Jack has a plan (more to follow). Paris, the agent, not the city, is not terribly keen on Jack’s plan (big surprise) and opts instead to watch the company building to see when AJ leaves. Jack and Karin head out to buy wigs and other disguise supplies. Getting a bad feeling yet?
Paris, the agent, not the city, has a lovely afternoon watching the building, but never sees any sign of AJ. The blinking salad bar sign across the street has made her hungry, so she goes for some food about twenty minutes after the end-of-the-work-day exodus has ended.
As she is having a lovely salad, Jack and Karin call and ask if they can meet her. They arrive with some bizarre story, drink and leave again. Later, Paris, the agent, not the city, calls me and tells me to bring a church key to Jack’s room.
Never one to pass up an opportunity for free beer and a good story, I go. Paris, the agent, not the city, refuses to tell me what’s transpired that evening, so I have to get it from the Bobsey twins.
Their version:
They went to AJ’s apartment, but were stopped from approaching by a pile of nuts. They then approached (in disguise) from the other side, where Officer Wikowski, aka Jack, attempted to ticket an illegally parked car, but unfortunately Jack forgot about Wikowski’s children and Officer Donovan, aka Karin, had apparently been on a crash diet. The diet and parental forgetfulness almost resulted in their arrest. It all turned out okay though, because a garbage truck careened out of control into the parked car and the police ran away from the scene of the accident.
Here’s what really happened:
Jack and Karin went to a quiet intersection of Larkin Street, selected by Jack aka Vince Larkin, for its poetic quality. Jack called 911 and reported that two men were fighting over a parking spot. When a car eventually arrived, Jack waved. They waved back. Jack then motioned for them to stop. They were seemingly unimpressed by his tale of parking lot woe, but he had their attention long enough for him to shoot the driver (his new found confidence is paying off, because he hit his target!) with a tranquilizer dart, while Karin stabbed the passenger with another dart.
Jack jumped in the driver’s seat while Karin jumped in the back and propped up the head of the passenger. They then drove to a deserted underpass. They heard calls from the radio asking for the whereabouts of a certain car, and Jack attempted to send back an acceptable answer. Eventually, he managed to fake his way through a radio response and they took the cops’ uniforms, handcuffed them together in the back seat and left. Out of the goodness of his little heart, Jack called 911 from a distance and reports that he saw the police car abandoned by the underpass.
The dynamic duo then went to the hotel and checked in with Paris, the agent, not the city. She told them that she hadn’t seen AJ leave, but Jack phoned AJ’s apartment anyway and got a response. Jack and Karin drove over to AJ’s apartment, changed into the uniforms and got out of the truck. As they were coming down the block, they saw an obvious surveillance vehicle (with its requisite pile of pistachio shells outside the door), so they went around the block and approached from the other direction.
This time they saw a car illegally parked that was also obviously doing surveillance. Jack, deciding that his semi-success with the radio call was not a fluke, but an indication of his superior powers of bullshit, approached the illegally parked car. The men inside were obviously official types, so he told them to have a good night and tried to leave. Perhaps suspicious of Officer Donovan’s ill-fitting uniform or Jack’s international terrorist aura, one of the cops began to question Jack about Wikowski’s children, and Jack, having failed to use his lifeline, told him he must be thinking of another Wikowski (obviously the Smith of Polish names). Just as it seems our heroes were about to be knee deep in shit, an f’in sanitation truck barreled around the corner and crashed into the cops’ car, allowing Jack and Karin to make their escape.
They phoned Paris, the agent, not the city, and met her at the local salad bar. Jack ordered four tequila sunrises and asked Karin what she wanted. After several drinks, the pickled pair decided to drive to Murphy’s house to see if it too was under surveillance. It was. Thankfully, they simply drove away.
That brings us back to the hotel. Paris, the agent, not the city, has discovered that Mrs. Murphy is holding a dinner at her home the next evening after a gala event to save endangered animals (I am petitioning to have Jack’s name added to that list). Deciding that we simply must attend these events, the next morning Paris, the agent, not the city, purchases three tickets, for Jack, herself and moi. Karin has gone to the catering agency and gotten a job working at the party that evening.
So, off we go to the gala in a limousine rented by Jack. Upon arriving, we see several familiar faces: the man and the woman from the restaurant, AJ and girlfriend, one of the cops from the now-crushed-by-garbage-truck car, Harry Callaghan, some guy who looks familiar from the Versailles incident, another couple who are interested in AJ and girlfriend, Ben Black, and the two Interpol agents.
Since my last encounter with the two Interpol agents had a questionable ending (it was as one Luke Deveraux and I were knocking them out and taking their weapons), I send Paris, the agent, not the city, away from Jack and me. She is going to try to get AJ’s attention, while Jack distracts AJ’s girlfriend.
I sit back and watch. This is better than Mystery Science Theater 3000! Jack is crashing and burning with AJ’s girlfriend, Paris, the agent, not the city, has attracted the attention of a real man (so identified by his ability to belch and scratch himself in public), the new couple, a cop posing as a waitress, Restaurant Woman and Man (who are pretending to not be together), Interpol and me are watching AJ and Girlfriend, Callaghan has circled the room and left, and Ben Black is having a really nice gala, so you see he is destined to hook up with Paris, the agent, not the city.
Paris, desperately needing to get away from Real Man, finds Ben Black and speeds off in his direction. Her relief is short-lived, because he realizes who she is and wants to know where the car that belongs to a certain set of keys is. She tells him that surely it must have been fished out the Washington Monument Reflecting Pool by now (see Arlington report). She agrees to be his date for the dinner soiree as payment of the now-amphibious car disaster.
An announcement is made that everybody should be seated. Fate has seen fit to seat us at the same table as AJ and Girlfriend. We make stunningly charming conversation as countless politicians, activists and Mrs. Murphy make their speeches, but AJ’s girlfriend seems less than pleased by Paris’ open adoration of AJ.
Jack goes to make a $25,000 donation to the cause in the hopes of being invited to the dinner that evening.
AJ excuses himself to make a call on his cell phone and Girlfriend goes to powder her nose. Shortly after AJ’s call, the cops in the room all look down at their pagers and make phone calls.
After AJ, Girlfriend, the Interpol agents and restaurant man have left, it seems to me that the room is getting fuzzy. I don’t mean my vision, I mean there seemed to be a lot more plainclothes cops in here than before and they all appear to be interested in everybody’s favorite International Terrorist, Jack. I tell Jack he has to get out of there. He makes his way in the direction of the little boys’ room, and then tries to run out through the kitchen. He bursts into the kitchen, sees eleven cops pulling weapons on him, and quickly backs out shutting the doors (‘cause that will stop them). Turning toward the banquet room, he sees eleven more cops making their way toward him and opens the door to try and shoot a gas line in the kitchen. Does anybody else see a flaw here? Cracker Jack, marksman extraordinaire, is going to shoot a gas line. I hate to say it, but fortunately, although not unexpectedly, he misses. Of course, he gets shot in the leg in the process.
I am trying desperately to think of some way to extricate Jack from this situation, but the only thing I can think of is to use his abandoned Zippo lighter and the alcohol from the table to start a diversionary fire.
So there Jack stands, bleeding from a serious leg wound, with twenty two cops advancing on him, and what does he do? He begins to channel (Up)Chuck and refuses to give up. He hops (yes, literally, he only has one good leg now) onto the escalator as they cops yell for him to freeze. Of course, the escalator continues its ascent, negating Jack’s ability to truly stop moving, but for some reason the cops don’t shoot him. As he gets to the top, Inspector Callaghan greets him, not with a friendly sternum rub, but rather with a .44 Magnum. Luckily, Jack has removed his disguise from the previous night, because standing next to Callaghan is a cop who is now wearing a partial imprint from the bumper of a City Sanitation truck on his forehead. Finally, using some sense, Jack gives up.
So, the only thing saving Jack from a serious (and perhaps well-deserved) ass kicking, is the fact that for some f’in reason, (and because Paris was tired of hearing him talk about carrying Wikowski’s shield with him), the incriminating evidence will not be found on him.
That brings us to the present: Karin is preparing to work the dinner tonight, Paris, the agent, not the city, is hiding underneath a table, and since it is made of wood, I am trying to get her out, as the banquet hall is burning and hop-along Payne, yelling that he is using his phone call to stop payment on his donation check, is in the custody of one Harry Callaghan, and even though the inspector is friendly with Diamond, getting Jack out of this one is going to require either a miracle or some major sucking up (perhaps to the GM).
Awards
Paris
Jack
Karin
Sheila
I get Paris, the agent, not the city, out from under the table and we leave the burning building to stand with the crowd of oglers outside.
Hop-Along Payne has had most of his possessions removed, including half a pant leg, by the EMTs who are treating him. He is taken to a caged van by two cops. Ever since the Parisian disaster cost Jack $10,000 for a handcuff key, he never goes anywhere without a key sewn into his clothing. Using the stealth he has become famous for, Jack begins to pick the lock, however, an ill-timed 00 has caused him not only to drop the key into the nether reaches of the van frame, but also to tighten the handcuffs.
Jack asks one of the cops to loosen them and, while his arm is free, repays this kindness, not with a friendly sternum rub or with a head butt, but by grabbing the man's gun. Feeling that he now has the upper hand, Jack orders the second cop to give him his gun. Of course, we all remember that Jack is the king of finding uncooperative hostages, and the cop tells him he doesn't need another gun, he already has one. A slightly perplexed Jack mulls over the truth of that statement, and then reaches over and loosens the man's gun belt, which falls to the floor. Jack goes to reach for it, but the man stands on it. Thoroughly frustrated now, Jack pushes the more cooperative hostage toward the back door. Jack looks out, but fails to see, well just about anything.
Deciding to leave the van, Jack gives his hostage a little push, but Jackitis has set in, the cop rolls badly and falls to the street. He is quickly pulled out of harm's way by some of the unseen (by Jack) masses who are surrounding the van. Inspector Callaghan tells Jack that the van is not bullet proof and asks if he wishes to be shot again. Jack, knowing the fame and fortune will never smile on those who have no points, finally gives up.
Paris, the agent, not the city, and I see several cops 'fall' out of the van, but none of them got hurt, because they used Jack as a pillow. Deciding to act like the air bag he was being treated as, Jack hurls insults at the EMTs who are strapping him to a gurney. They then drop him on the way to the ambulance.
I call ISIS, the agency, not the goddess, and tell them I need more help. They tell me that, as luck would have it, Alex Architect, aka James Levesque, is in town. Perfect! The only things missing now are (Up)Chuck and a roll of duct tape. It's the storming of the Versailles all over again, well almost - at least Paris hasn't been kidnapped and Mulroy isn't here.
I go to the hospital to make sure that Jack is still in few enough pieces for us to put him back together again. The female cop who was pretending to be a waitress at the benefit meets me at the desk and tells me to wait for the doctors. After twenty minutes, I go back to the desk and get a nurse. I explain that I wish to speak with my 'cousin's' doctors regarding his treatment. Faint cries of 'no enemas' can be heard echoing through the halls, reassuring me that Jack lives.
Anyway, I finally get the bitches (I was a little annoyed by now) to let me talk to the doctor and then take me upstairs, but I am less than thrilled to be taken to a room filled with the Interpol agents, the (sanitation) cop and Inspector Callaghan. The men leave the room and I promptly get bored, so I leave. There's all sorts of shouting behind me and I feel my head starting to ache.
Inspector Callaghan finally takes me back into the room alone, and wants to know if we are working on the same case that he is. I tell him, as the magic eight ball would say, "it is decidedly so." With a warning not to shoot up the city and a (sort of) promise that Jack would be released come Monday, he lets me go. I tell him that I hope Jack will incur no more self-inflicted injuries, but knowing Jack, that is pretty unlikely.
Paris, the agent, not the city, is preparing for a lovely evening.
I go to James's motel room. I give him the facts: we want him to break into AJ's apartment this evening, as he will be out from at least 8:00 until midnight, look for any possible contact information or anything else suspicious, and if he screws it up, I will most likely kill him in the morning.
Karin goes to work at the gala and Ben Black picks up Paris, who has selected a dress that is a real knock out (so called because most of the men who see her in it wind up knocking themselves out by walking into walls) and men's jaws drop wherever she goes.
I settle down next to the wet bar and wait.
Meanwhile, James has recruited John Rossi, one of the ace (not) drivers from the Arlington mission, and some new guy named Charlie Katana. They meet at a sushi bar, where they all practice their Japanese and Surferese.
I could give you the short version first - okay I will.
So this Vietnamese guy - appropriately named Charlie, a surfer dude and an architect go to break into an apartment … Wait, this isn't a joke - it's my career! Anyway, they go in with a paper clip and a shuriken; check out the bathrooms; assault a file cabinet; find out that AJ likes to order pizza from Europe; take lots of files, computer disks, cash and a crab mallet; ransack the place; beat, tie up and leave on the roof a con artist as he leaves the apartment; and witness a bizarre suicide in which the victim tied himself up on the roof and then threw himself off the building.
But here's the long version:
(Nun)Chuck goes in search of information and finds out that there will be some sort of exchange tomorrow, the apartment is being watched by both the cops and the Russians, and there is some Russian assassin in town to 'take care of things' (a euphemism Jack is very familiar with) after the exchange.
The terrible trio then heads off to the apartment. James finds the surveillance cars and watches to see where they are getting their coffee from. (Nun)Chuck then spikes some coffees with an herb designed to give them an urgent need to visit the little boys' room. Rossi delivers the coffee to the cops and gets a tip.
The boys go to the apartment building door armed with a paper clip, a shuriken and their wits. Yes, it's official - I sent the Three stooges to break into the apartment.
Back at the gala, Paris does a little jaw dropping of her own, as she sees none other than Ed Mulroy at the party. Karin overhears Paris and Mulroy, neither of whom seem pleased to see one another, talking and beeps me to tell me. Mulroy - I feel the pressure in my head building. Well, at least (Up)Chuck is still asleep and there's no duct tape involved.
A restrained (in a hospital bed) Jack's Mulroy meter is sending signals to his subconscious and he is getting restless.
I reluctantly leave the sanctity of my hotel room and head off toward AJ's apartment.
Paris, the agent, not the city, is pleasantly surprised to see her favorite delivery person enter the party. They exchange nods and knowing glances, and he sends her a note telling her to meet him at Fort Mason at noon the next day.
Back at the apartment building, the boys gain entry by pushing buttons until someone buzzes them in. They get to the front door and Rossi goes to work with his paper clip. He soon realizes that this is not working and asks for something thin and sharp. (Nun)Chuck throws the shuriken into the front door. Rossi retrieves it and manages to open the lock.
They enter the apartment and Rossi then mysteriously - most of all to him - is able to deactivate the keypad. James and Rossi each search a bathroom. It quickly becomes apparent that they each know a little too much about fancy toiletries for the other's comfort, so they stop talking.
(Nun)Chuck calls James in to look at the computer, while Rossi attempts to pick the lock on a file cabinet. His paper clip once again fails him, and he borrows (Nun)Chuck's shuriken again, however, it soon becomes stuck in the lock. He goes to the kitchen, grabs a crab mallet and begins to hit the now-stuck shuriken. He manages to free the throwing star from the lock and then performs something resembling a rain dance to dislodge the shuriken from the mallet, while (Nun)Chuck tries to open the broken lock with a knife.
Finally, they manage to open the cabinets and find lots of information: a file on Diamond, information on his dealings as an ISIS client, a file on Mulroy, and a contact number for Dominoes, the delivery guy (pizza dude to Rossi), in Europe.
Rossi also finds oodles o' cash (specifically $96,000), which he takes, leaving behind $5 to cover the cost of the broken lock. (Nun)Chuck ransacks the place to make it look like a burglary (I guess broken locks, gouges in the door and missing property just aren't enough these days).
I have pulled up outside the building and find it strangely free of surveillance. I see movement in the apartment, so I wait - until I see the man from the gala who was trying to cozy up to AJ and Girlfriend heading down the street with the apartment key in hand. I call James's cell phone and tell him they should make like geese and get the flock out of there.
They leave the apartment and Rossi heads down, but the other two bone heads go up. Rossi makes it to the street and gets in my car. James and (Nun)Chuck wait while the guy goes into the apartment, curses and storms out. As he leaves, (Nun)Chuck sneak-attacks him, hitting him in the head and almost killing him. They go through the guy's pockets, tie him up, and take him to the roof.
By this time, I am getting really pissed and a Consulate car drives down the street and turns the corner. I call the dipshits again and tell them to leave the building through the front. James comes out that way, but (Nun)Chuck, the super sleuth, ignores my … advice and goes out the back, passing right by the consulate car, and causing us to have to drive back to the sushi bar, where they can't even make a decent martiki, to pick him up. Apparently Rossi's strange dance has caused something, if not rain, to fall from the sky as the no-longer-on-the-roof body falls to the street in front of James.
Back at the gala, AJ gets a phone call and rushes out of the party. Ben Black and Paris follow in the Lotus, and Karin follows in the rented truck. AJ goes to his apartment, so they pull back. Paris calls me to ask if there's anything she should know. As I order a burger and onion rings (Rossi was hungry, so we went to the drive-thru), I tell her we were never in aisle three and there are no dead bodies in my car (that's because it's on the street outside of AJ's apartment).
I am desperately searching my bag, but I can't seem to locate my bottle of aspirin. Anyway, we go to the little bar from the previous night. The femme fatale from the gala whom I have a distinct feeling is some sort of assassin, comes in shortly after us and looks hungrily at our table, although we have all finished our take-out.
(Nun)Chuck decides to approach her, but she tells him that she doesn't go for Orientals, she likes young, innocent boys, like Rossi. Naturally Rossi goes over to talk to her and she comes onto him. He's been drinking, his hormones are heating up and I'm afraid we're going to have to put the martikis in Rossi on ice. He comes back to us to tell us that he is going to go with her to engage in some X-rated activities. I tell him he can't go, she is very dangerous. He feels that he can handle the peril.
He is finally persuaded to forgo the date, but when he comes back to the table, she figures out that I'm the boss. Yeah right, you wouldn't know it to listen to this crew.
Anyway, here is the plan for tomorrow. Paris, the agent, not the city, will meet Dominoes at Fort Mason, and (Nun)Chuck and James will follow her to make sure that she is okay. Rossi and Karin will follow Dominoes to see where he goes. I will remain in my hotel room until I have located my extra large bottle of extra strength aspirin.
Karin goes to pick up Rossi and sees a consulate car in front of his motel. She calls him and has him leave a different way. They go to the park and spot Dominoes, followed by two other men and one of the (sanitation) cops. Karin also notes that Cahill is in the park, and Rossi notices that Cahill's car is in the park.
(Nun)Chuck and James situate themselves in the park so they can watch Paris. She eventually gets close to Dominoes while he is feeding the ducks. Finally fortune smiles on us, and nobody had to F it in! He has a package to deliver, but he is being followed - no kidding - and is afraid to do it. So, he wants Paris, the agent, not the city, to do it for him! He is slightly apprehensive when he finds out that she is also here for this package, as is just about everybody else, but she assures him that the package will be handed over. What happens after that is fair game.
So the plan is to have a series of drops to create many diversions. Then all we have to do is steal the package back right after it is handed over! Simple, right? Oh yeah, and we can't shoot up the city, because I kind of promised Callaghan that we wouldn't!
Awards
Paris
Jack
Karin
Sheila
James
Rossi
(Nun)Chuck
You didn't think I was just going to sit in the hotel room while the rest of the team went to the park, did you? What, and pass up an opportunity to watch Jack squirm with the knowledge that Mulroy is in town? Not a chance. Grabbing my recently located extra large bottle of extra strength aspirin, I head off to the hospital.
Jack is feeling no Payne, thanks to the sedatives he is on. There is an odd green glow to the room that is faintly reminiscent of (Up)Chuck's face onboard a Caribbean cruise ship, but apparently that is being caused by a proliferation of green jello that Jack refuses to eat. We exchange niceties - you know, how's the leg, hope the restraints aren't too tight, that sort of thing - and I give him the news. Mulroy is in town. He doesn't believe me at first, but finally his drug-induced smile fades and the old Jack returns, complete with bone-headed plan.
What's the plan? Here it is: I go to his hotel room, get his cabaret make-up, come back, release Jack from his restraints, call one of the cops in, hit him over the head with a heavy object (Jack recommends a beer stein), help Jack make the cop look like an International terrorist, help make the (alleged) International terrorist look like a cop, leave the room and pull the fire alarm, thus allowing Jack to escape amid the confusion. What idiot would agree to a plan like that?
Yeah, ummm … me.
I go to Jack's hotel room and have to break into his room. I am pleased that my skills aren't that rusty, because I am able to get into his room fairly easily, even though I have no shuriken or paper clip. I grab the make-up and, using my incredible powers of deduction - and a barely made dice roll, remember to grab his lock pick set.
I return to the hospital and go to work on the restraints. I manage to get his right arm free and he disconnects the IV. As I am working on the left arm, Callaghan walks in with the female cop who made me wait yesterday. After reassuring Callaghan that we were not up to 'no good', I surreptitiously (in a Jack Payne sort of way) drop the lock pick set, but rolling a 97 will rarely allow you to succeed on your deception, and Callaghan picks it up. He throws it on Jack's chest. Jack offers him some green jello, but the Inspector turns it down. The female cop picks up the bag of cabaret make-up and tells me that she's sure I won't mind letting her have it. Deciding that she needs the make-up far more than Jack or I, I let her have it.
Callaghan hands Jack a conditional release form, which Jack signs. Breathing a sigh of relief that I will not have to assault a cop, help Jack escape or pull a fire alarm, I help Jack put on the remains of his tattered clothing and take him back to the hotel. Although he is happy that his flask has been returned, he wants to stop for more clothes, and I have to convince him that he should be a little more conservative with his money, since he has just donated $25,000 to the endangered animal fund, and lost a $400 tuxedo.
We go back to the hotel and meet up with the team to see what has transpired at the park. Paris, the agent, not the city, has to meet with Dominoes tonight to get the details of the exchange, so we all plan to go watch the restaurant and, being the Cracker Jack-led team that we are, ensure her safety.
Karin and Rossi are in his car, Jack, his flask and I are in my rental, and (Nun)Chuck and James are in James's car.
On the way to the restaurant, Jack and I notice that we are being followed. Fortunately, my excellent driving skills allow us to evade our tails and we find a place to park and watch.
Paris is having a lovely dinner (surprise, surprise), as Dominoes gives her the plan for the next day.
Rossi gets a sausage and pepperoni pizza and then tries to convince Karin that most Americans eat cold pizza for breakfast. She tells him that she prefers warm sausage (Wurst) in the morning. Rossi considers the implications of that, tells her that he is best in the morning, and then uses her German to English slang dictionary to show her some alternate meanings for the word sausage. They then begin to argue over the pronunciation of the letter 'w.'
Meanwhile, Dominoes has excused himself from the dinner table and left the restaurant. The whole team notices that the entire street (well, not the street, but all of the cars parked on it) seems eager to follow Dominoes, with the exception of Karin and Rossi, who already have pizza. I beep Paris, the agent, not the city, on the pen to tell her what's happening, that we will follow the other cars and that Jack says, "hey." She calls Dominoes and tells him (not that Jack says, "hey," but rather that he should "tuck in his tails").
Dominoes, doing a superb job of not looking like he knows he's being followed, starts down the street. We follow all of the cars that seem to be following him, but quickly notice that we are also being followed (mostly because of the flashing lights and sirens) as we are following the cars that are following Dominoes. Did you follow that?
Rossi and Karin get pulled over, as do Jack and I. Rossi immediately turns off the car and puts his hands on the windshield. The cops ask for his ID and then return for Karin's, who offers them some sausage pizza. After Rossi and Karin have been detained long enough to lose their target, the police let them go.
Meanwhile, I am sitting in a car with an International terrorist who is on a conditional release from jail and has in his possession weapons stolen from two police officers a few days ago. The stealth master manages to hide them under the seat without being seen (but only because the cops rolled really high). I give the cops my license and rental papers and we wait.
After a few minutes, they come back and ask Jack for his ID. He tells them that he doesn't have any with him, so they ask him to step out of the car. They tell him that my license is suspended and he needs to show them his license so they don't have to have the car towed. He politely refuses.
They return to their car and he gets back in mine. We bicker and argue over the validity of my license. I am getting really pissed, because I don't think my license is suspended, although Jack has planted the seeds of doubt, because I can't remember the last time I came to the States to do paperwork. I want to get out and yell, but Jack keeps stopping me.
As we are arguing, a tow truck pulls up in front of my car. Knowing that Lemons 'r' Us is just about the only rental agency that I can still use, I cannot allow my car to be towed, so I start to get out. One of the cops is approaching, and Jack notices that there are two, not one, tow truck drivers and they are armed with submachine guns.
Jack, fearing that this is a diabolical plot concocted by Mulroy to get him, wants me to drive away. As always when I am with Jack, paranoia overtakes common sense and I jump back in the car and take off. Actually, attempt to take off is a more appropriate choice of words, since the tow truck drivers (who it turns out have these little badges hanging from their necks - oops) turn the engine of my little lemon into lemon juice.
As the car comes to a stop from its breakneck speed of 15mph, Jack decides it is time to get rid of Wikowski and Donnovan's guns, so he tosses them out the window.
I don't know what's going on, but I am quite sure that Jack is to blame for all of this, and I would beat the shit out of him if I wasn't busy getting arrested. On the other side of the car, Jack is performing a close-up comparison of the pavement of the streets of San Francisco to the other surfaces he's been face down on.
Jack and I are put in separate cars, while the SFPD and the DEA (confused yet?) engage in some sort of territorial pissing contest over who has jurisdiction.
On the bright side, as I stare at the burning frame of my rental car, it occurs to me that Rent-A-Wreck should have no objection to renting a car to me! (I think it's important to be optimistic.)
Callaghan and Company win the battle and take us to their station house. Eventually, Jack is dragged into the same room where I am, and they leave us alone. I have worked up a pretty healthy rage at this point, and am weighing the pros and cons of trying to kick his wounded leg with my heavily modified by handcuffs coordination. I yell at him instead and the argument continues. The deluded little terrorist still thinks that this is because my license is suspended. Callaghan and Co. come in and interrupt our argument.
The Inspector reassures us that my license is not, in fact, suspended, and tells us that they were only trying to ID us. I knew this was all Jack's fault.
Callaghan wants to know why I tried to run over a DEA agent! Jack and I give him the facts, the cops lied about my license, the tow truck was filled with armed thugs and any innocent citizen in their right mind (as well as some 'super' sleuths who are not) would have fled that scene.
The Inspector alludes to our lengthy files as a cause for suspicion. Jack confesses that yes, he did blow up a science fair in the ninth grade, but he paid for that with a suspension, and yes, his guidance counselor once said that Jack would never amount to anything, but he never said it again …
There is, of course, the small matter of the guns that Jack threw out of the car. Jack denied that at first, but after seeing the video tape showing the gun throwing, Jack explains that while he may have littered, he hasn't violated the terms of his conditional release (don't get caught with …), because he didn't actually have any weapons on him when he was arrested.
We offer Callaghan a deal - he gives me a ticket for driving with a suspended license and then releases us. That must have been the straw that broke Callaghan's back, because he yells that my license is not suspended and throws the book (The San Francisco Yellow Pages, to be exact) at Jack, who, using the (lack of) prowess he has become known for, fails to duck and takes several bruising points to the face. Jack starts yelling "Rodney King," but that doesn't go over well, either.
Apparently, Callaghan is also a little upset that we lost our tails (although he is impressed with my superior driving technique) and got in the middle of a DEA surveillance instead of just leading the cops to Mulroy. We tell him that we would have gotten around to Mulroy, we were just taking care of some business first, and of course, we know nothing about any DEA operation.
Eventually, Cahill comes in and saves the day. He gets the video tape and destroys it, and Callaghan agrees to let us go, provided Jack will take a tracking device so that they can follow us to Mulroy.
Happy to leave, we agree and Jack takes the cell phone they offer.
Karin and Rossi go crash in her hotel room, taking taken the cold pizza with them so they can have it for breakfast.
Paris and Ben Black have had another @&#%$ lovely evening.
Jack, his flask, Cahill and I go back to my hotel room for a drink or ten. Paris, the agent, not the city, has left a message on my machine, so I call her back. She sounds a little groggy (it is 3:00 in the morning) so I tell her that Jack says, "hey," there are no dead bodies in my car, in fact there's not much of anything in my car, and we agree to meet in the morning.
At 9:00 the next morning, Ben Black and Paris show up at my hotel. They are way too loud and cheerful, apparently the result of a @&#%$ lovely evening not spent in the custody of the SFPD. Black orders some room service so he can concoct a potentially lethal (to the taste buds) hangover remedy. We call Karin and Rossi to come up to my room and learn that Karin is less than enamored with cold pizza for breakfast, sausage or no.
Paris, the agent, not the city, goes over the plan. (Nun)Chuck will go to Chinatown to meet Paris and get the package, then pass it off to Karin, who will give it to a man with a dog in Washington Park. He will take a cable car and pass it to Rossi, who will take it Fisherman's Wharf and give it to the man on the Martin Park, a boat from Nashville Tennessee.
I then mention to Paris, that Jack and I will have company, because the police will be following us, and we can't lose them (well, we could, but it wouldn't be in our best interest). She seems puzzled by this, so we clear things up for her by telling her that we spent the night in jail because I tried to run over an armed-with-a-submachine-gun tow truck driver and Jack littered without identification.
Paris, the agent, not the city, who has the distinct look of someone who has been exposed to way too many cellular phone microwave transmissions, wants to know if you simply get fired from this job or you get shot. I tell her I'll let her know tomorrow.
James goes to Fisherman's Wharf and locates the boat in slip 9. Jack and I head over there, making one stop to buy ammunition. I don't think he has another weapon, so I figure Jack just needs to hold bullets as a security blanket. We park by the pier.
Paris, the agent, not the city, successfully hands off the package to (Nun)Chuck, our favorite Vietnamese assassin with a Japanese name, who discards the remains of his grotesque take-out lunch and moves the package around Chinatown for awhile. He then finds Karin ze German, but for some reason a blonde Nordic chick in Chinatown attracts some attention and Paris gets a call from Black saying the both the Feds and the local PD have spotted the exchange. Paris calls Karin and tells her. Karin finally manages to lose her tails and goes to Washington Park to compliment a dog and drop the package for Dominoes. He then takes the package (what did he do with the dog?) onto the cable car to pass it off to Rossi. With a "thanks, dude," Rossi heads off to Fisherman's Wharf.
The rest of the team (except for (Nun)Chuck, whose take-out apparently didn't agree with the herbal supplements he's been taking, thus causing him to spend the afternoon in public restrooms and James, who found a group of cute jail bait to chase after) have made their way to Fisherman's Wharf by the time Rossi shows up. Surfer boy walks up and down the pier, but is unable to locate the boat. Paris finally calls the 'nitwit' and tells him it's in slip 9.
Jack and I are observing the operation from the safety of the team's rented truck, and Karin and Paris are on the pier.
AJ is on the boat, along with the female grifter and Kevin Sweeney. An unidentified man is slipping off the end of the boat in scuba gear. (I swear this makes sense in our world!)
Paris calls AJ’s cell phone and tells him that the woman is a thief and Sweeney is a hired assassin waiting to kill him after the exchange. AJ starts to panic. Rossi approaches the boat and hands the package to the woman. AJ runs up and grabs it from her. She goes into the cabin, AJ runs in after her and two shots are heard.
As Karin is running toward the boat, she passes scuba man, who turns out to be Cahill, and he tells her that there are now narcotics on the boat.
Paris has made another call to AJ telling him that the boat is loaded with explosives and he has to get off. He jumps off the boat. The cops and the DEA are starting to close in to the area. Paris and Karin trip AJ while Rossi grabs the package. As AJ is falling he gets shot (although there was no exit wound or projectile found - are Mulder and Scully here, too?).
Rossi, Karin and Paris make it to Black’s car thanks to a small diversionary explosion courtesy of Mr. Cahill.
Everybody is happy, yes? The DEA are pleased that they have finally gotten their drugs. (Nun)Chuck is pleased that the cramps are passing (pun intended). James is pleased that at least one of the girls has reached her majority. Black is pleased to be in the company of Paris, the agent, not the city. Paris and Karin are pleased to have retrieved the package and made it to safety. Rossi is pleased to be getting a ride in Black’s car. Cahill is pleased that his diversion worked.
Jack and I are pleased that, despite all of the minor incidents leading up to this point, the mission has succeeded. However, we are less than pleased to note that our car is being surrounded, once again, by the local police. Jack is about to run and I yell at him that this time I am sure that we haven’t done anything. However, I may have to kill him after all, because it turns out that he has yet another weapon on him. I take it from him, as I am not on a conditional release. They detain us long enough to decide that we had nothing to do with the wet breakage in aisle 3 or the mayhem on the pier.
And somehow, some way, Jack and I are sure that Paris, the agent, not the city, is having a really @&#%$@&#%$ lovely evening!
Awards
Paris
Jack
Karin
Sheila
James
Rossi
(Nun)Chuck