The alternative adventures of Theodore Cadell (MSPE)

[houndle]

"Is that likely?" I ask. "I got the impression we were in the back end of nowhere."

"If she follows my car tracks she'll get to a road eventually. From there she might be able to make it into town. I've got to find her," he decides.

"I'll help you," I say instantly.

"No, in your current state you'll slow me down. Besides, I need you to look after the Judge." He opens a discreet cupboard and unlocks a safe that's inside. Hands me my automatic and a spare clip. After a second's thought he slips a chain off his neck and hands that to me too. There's a key attached to it.

"In case you need it, this will release the Judge. He's in an outbuilding, on the left as you come out the side door. Give him a can of soup if I'm not back in a couple hours. Be careful Theo, you're in no fit state for roughhousing." He checks his own gun and snatches up his car keys. Scant moments later I hear him drive off and I'm alone once more.

---

Time passes.

When I figure it's been two hours I find a can of vegetable soup and dump it in a bowl. Sergi said nothing about cooking arrangements so I guess the Judge is going to have it cold.

I pick up my gun and go looking for the Judge. After some thought I take the key as well. I don't think Maisie would be smart enough (or foolish enough) to circle around in the hope of rescuing her boss, but you never know. No sense making life easy for her.

I step outside and the humidity slaps me in the face. The ground is marshy underfoot. I skirt round the house and find the outbuilding. It makes the house look like a palace. I push the door open and step inside.

The Judge is in there, sitting on the floor, chained to a stanchion that must be the only sturdy thing on the whole property. I don't like to think how many people might have been chained up in this place over the years.

The Judge is looking at me with lackluster eyes. He's oddly shrunken, as if the poor diet and confinement have damped the fires of his personality. The expression on his face suggests he doesn't want to be pals.

"You're alive then," he says coldly. "How long do you and your associate plan to keep me here?"

"To be honest," I don't exactly know myself," I say. I push the bowl towards him, keeping at arm's length in case he tries anything cute. He regards the bowl with contempt but drinks from it anyway.

"What is it you want?" he demands more quietly. "Money? I'm not a rich man, but I can probably scrape enough together to make it worth your while." His eyes become crafty. "Even more so, if you don't share it with your friend."

I seat myself on the floor, facing him. Maybe it's to start a rapport. Maybe it's only that I can't stay upright much longer.

"You want to deal? Okay, I'll think about it. But first let's get to know one another. You can start. Why did you sentence that kid to death on a trumped-up charge?"

He shrugs. "If he didn't commit that crime, he probably did something else. Or he will do in the future. I pride myself on being a pretty good judge of character. That boy was a criminal, through and through. No great loss to society." He points at me as if I'm the one on trial. "Why do you care?"

I give up. He's too wily to admit any wrongdoing. Perhaps he really believes his own nonsense, who knows? So I get up to go.

He asks me where Maisie has got to, I tell him she's decided to cooperate. That she's currently relating some very interesting stories to my colleague. I can tell he doesn't believe me, but I'll leave him to think about it. If that doesn't work, missing a few meals might loosen his tongue. Either way I'm not convinced we should just remain passive while faceless bureaucrats wrangle about jurisdiction.

---

The light is beginning to fade when Sergi returns. He shakes his head.

"No sign of her. I reckon she followed the track a ways, but then I lost the trail. She could be anywhere by now."

"Perhaps she went off the path and drowned," I say trying to be optimistic. "Or maybe someone picked her up, took her into the woods and murdered her."

"The way our luck is going, she hitched a ride straight into town and she's speaking to the cops right now," he says gloomily.

"So what do you want to do?" I ask practically. Hightail it out of here? And what do we do with the Judge?"

"We take him with us, I guess. At first light, I don't fancy blundering around these woods in the dark. We'll find somewhere safe to hole up, then I'll call the agency again. What a mess."

"Are you sure we shouldn't leave now?" I ask nervously. "Put some miles between us and the posse."

He yawns. "If there even is a posse. For all we know the girl's inside an alligator's belly right now. I'm worn out. Need to get some sleep before I go running through the countryside again."

"We should at least keep watch," I say stubbornly. "Four hours on, four off. I'll take the first watch. I'm not that tired." Actually, the damp heat and my half-healed wound are making me feel exhausted. But I've got a bad feeling about this. Sergi's been looking out for me too long. He's losing his edge.

Eventually he smiles.

"Have it your way," he says. "Wake me in four hours."

---

My shift passes uneventfully. I shake Sergi, make sure he's fully awake and slump down upon his cot.

It seems like only minutes have passed when he's shaking me vigorously. It's still pitch black outside.

"Huh? What time is it?" I ask muzzily.

"Quiet. A little after two." I've had barely an hour's sleep. Sergi peers out the window as I struggle to come awake.

"There's someone out there. I saw headlights not long since. Not close, but they suddenly shut off as if someone didn't want to be seen."

"Hunters?" I guess. "Someone looking to bag a 'gator, maybe."

"I don't think so. Nobody comes this way without a good reason. I reckon this is trouble. With a capital T."

OOC rather an epic post to move the action along. The tables I drew up would have allowed for a clean getaway and APs all round, but it wasn't to be...

[houndle]

OOC I'm quite pleased with the table I used to generate the opponents for the next section.

There were 9 different types of potential adversary. The logical way to proceed would have been to make a roll to determine the type of adversary and then roll up their characteristics. That was my first thought. But if possible I wanted to keep the uncertainty, and the tension, going a little longer. So I turned the original idea on its head.

Initially I made rolls to decide the number of adversaries and their "fieldcraft" (basically, how easily Theo and Sergi could track them without being detected). 3d6 rolls to create a bell curve.

If our heroes detected them (or at the point the adversaries surprised our heroes) I would roll to see how the adversaries were armed.

The result of all that information, combined with a 2d6 roll, would identify the adversaries. For example, a large number of foes armed principally with assault weapons would likely be paramilitary types; fewer numbers or more poorly armed had a greater chance of being random citizens. And so on.

Roll 13: there are four of them.
Roll 7: However, their fieldcraft is below average.

"I'll go and take a look at them, if you like," I whisper.

"All right," Sergi whispers back. "I'll go get the Judge. Meet you by the car. Don't take any foolish risks, my boy. You're not up to it yet."

"So you keep reminding me," I grouse, but I know he's right. I grab the scope and clip it to my gun. I'd prefer a rifle, but the scope should give me an edge in the darkness. Unless our visitors are similarly equipped. I'm not sure who they are, but they don't seem very competent. Lighting things up with their headlamps was an amateur mistake. But understandable in the depths of the forest.

I exit the house and start to creep up on their last known position, keeping an eye out in case they are trying to flank us.

[houndle]

OOC Theodore makes a Saving roll of 30 using modifiers for observation and the scope and DARO -ing. His enemies' fieldcraft is not great and he wins by a substantial margin.

Through the scope I spot four guys, meandering down the track as if they're on a country walk. If this was the Nam, they'd already be on their way home in body bags. But as it is I spend a little while studying them, trying to figure out who they are and what they want.

Worryingly, two of them seem to be carrying long guns, AR-15s or something of that kind. Check shirts and denim, plus a certain ruggedness of appearance which all four of them share, suggests these guys aren't here on any kind of official business. My best guess, Maisie hooked up with them in a bar or on the road, told them a story about a righteous Judge being held prisoner by a group of pinko subversives and persuaded them to mount a rescue mission. I'm guessing also that they agreed 2am was a good time to stage the ambush and they've spent the last few hours preparing themselves and drinking strong liquor.

So on the whole, I'm not too concerned about the situation. I'm guessing that their courage will evaporate as soon as things don't go their way. The trick will be not to hurt them too bad, and to avoid any stray bullets they might spray around in a panic.

I wonder where Maisie is. If she had any sense she'd have run off as soon as these guys started the heavy drinking. Assuming she was still capable. Reluctantly I promise myself that I'll try and find out. There's a saying of Evallyn's bouncing around my head, something about saving a fool from his folly.

---

The four guys suddenly come to halt and I can hear them talking in low voices. Too far away to hear but I gather they're debating how to proceed. Maybe the effect of the alcohol is wearing off. Maybe they are just spooked. It feels like my cue to go.

I make it back to where Sergi is waiting and swiftly fill him in on developments. He has cuffed the Judge to the car and silenced him with a crude gag. Sadieli is doing his best to listen-in though.

"...No real threat, but anything might happen if these guys get riled up enough to start shooting," I conclude. "Anyway I reckon the hideout is blown. No telling who else Maisie has told."

Sergi thinks for a minute.

"How about if you take the car and drive the Judge out of here," he suggests. "I'll stay behind and lay down some fire, catch up with you down the road apiece."

"No, I think we should stay together, set up an ambush, a classic L-shape," I say. "Try not to mess them up too badly, they are probably just misguided citizens. I want one for questioning though. I think we ought to find out what happened to Maisie. Maybe they're fixing to have themselves a little celebration when they get home. Or maybe they've already had it." Behind Sergi I can see the Judge's eyes roll as he tests the strength of his cuffs.

"We're out of time," notes Sergi quietly. There's a flashlight beam somewhere the the distance. "We'll leave the Judge here and flank these guys. If I were you," he tells Sadieli calmly, "I'd stay very still and very quiet when the shooting starts. Keep low and you might live to see the dawn." We melt into the trees, moving in opposite directions.

[houndle]

The four roughnecks are still moving forward but they seem a little more cautious now. Once again I study them through the scope. Looks as if they are planning to split into two groups and circle around the house in opposite directions. I can't figure out what they're up to; if it comes to a shootout they're just as likely to hit one another. That's also something Sergi and I will have to be careful about.

All kinds of second thoughts are coming to me now. Like why I didn't take a few more seconds to agree rules of engagement with Sergi. This environment, this situation isn't the kind of challenge I'm used to. Plus I'm still not feeling my best and I'm sure that has affected my judgement.

I harden my heart. These guys have opted to bring rifles to the party. If they want to go up against me they'll have to face the consequences.

I line up on the closest rifleman, take a moment to calm my breathing and squeeze the trigger.

---

OOC after considering all the variables (night, scope, unaware targets etc) I came up with a modified to-hit roll of 30. Theo needed to roll an 11.

He rolled 15 (DARO)
As soon as I've fired I'm moving, circling again, trying to get well away from any reply. A few seconds later I hear Sergi's gun boom and I hope he's doing likewise.

There are shouts in the night and when I refocus the scope I see that my target is lying in the dirt. Two of his buddies are crouched down beside him, one trying to tend his wound while the other is scanning the darkness, pistol drawn. The fourth is nowhere to be seen. It's this fourth man I'm worried about; running around on his own he could cause all sorts of problems unless we find him quickly.

I send another shot in their direction, not bothering to aim this time, and quickly roll to one side. When I apply the scope again one man has his hands in the air. The other one is still working on his buddy but neither of those two looks like a threat. Through the scope I watch Sergi come out of the jungle. I follow suit, giving our special little whistle so he knows it's me.

---

Mornin' fellers," I say casually. "How about you kick those weapons over here so we can talk in greater comfort? That a boy," when they comply. "Now, what happened to your friend?"

"Run for the hills, I figure," says the one who isn't currently administering first aid. "He was never any darn good."

"He won't get far," grunts the first aider. "Not without the keys to the pickup." He sounds tough but his face is anxious. "Old Red here's in a bad way, Mister. You don't want to give us a hand, do you?"

"No, I think I'm going to stay right here for now," I say. "And if any of you makes a false move, I'll put a bullet in all three of you." My mind is racing again, wondering how to dispose of these three, thinking about the fourth one, trying to figure out how to turn the situation to our advantage.

"All right. I'll offer you a deal. Toss your keys to my colleague. In exchange for your pickup we'll take Red somewhere he can be treated. You can have our car. Then we go our separate ways, no hard feelings. Your other friend takes his chances."

"That sounds like a rotten deal," says the first aider. "How do we know we can trust yer?"

I shrug. "Just as easy to take the keys off your bullet riddled corpses."

[houndle]

OOC to summarise another lengthy sequence of dice rolls, fighting and mishaps:

Scowling the first aider fumbles in his pockets for keys. As he does so the other one decides to get cute. He makes a run for it.

Sergi is taken off guard, swivels round and snaps off three shots at the fugitive. At least that's the plan. The third shot comes up dry; and at the same instant the first aider throws himself at Sergi. I've been waiting for things to go wrong and I take my shot, but all I manage to hit is jungle. Suddenly I'm feeling dizzy and slightly sick and I can only watch as the first aid guy closes with Sergi.

It's a serious mistake. Sergi is a good fighter, he's given me plenty of lumps in the gym. He reacts instinctively. The fight lasts less than a minute, and Sergi is the only one standing at the end of it.

I rifle through the guy's pockets and come up with the keys to his pickup. I hold them up for Sergi to see.

"Let's take a look at what we won," I suggest. "Maybe drag these two off the road. Don't want to run them over on top of the day they're already having."

"Sounds like a plan," Sergi replies. "Keep an eye out for the others, though. If they found their way back to their vehicle they might have some more hardware by now."

He's struggling to clear the jam on his pistol. Wordlessly I hold out my hand, take it from him and eject the jammed shell before handing it back.

"Thanks," he says drily. "It might come in useful at some point "

We pull the wounded hunters to safety and make sure they are still breathing. The one who was shot first is in a bad way, but he should make it as long as his friend concentrates on the first aid instead of looking for more trouble. We take the rifles with us even though neither of us favors a long gun. Then we set off along the side of the track.

[houndle]

We make our way cautiously towards the truck; or at least, where we estimate it must be. After the exertions of the last few minutes I'm beginning to feel deadly tired and my wound is aching again. I'm going to need rest and food. I'm sure Sergi feels the same.

It must be due to get light soon, that is to say, sunrise. For now a big, bright-cold moon is riding in the sky, turning the world to black and white. Every tree casts a grotesque monstrous shadow, every bush has become a hideous goblin...

I clutch at Sergi's arm. Something up ahead, something I'm sure is neither bush nor goblin. A glint of metal in the moonlight.

Slowly I raise the scope to my eye. The shape jumps into focus immediately. One of the hunters, crouched beside a pickup with a canvas tilt fitted on the back. He's carrying a big old Colt 1911 that someone probably brought back from the war.

"What is it?" whispers Sergi. I explain without taking my eyes off the target.

"Shall I take him out?" my companion asks raising his rifle.

"It's a tricky shot in the dark," I reply forbearing to mention that his recent performance with firearms has not been stellar. "I'll try and get closer, take him down hand to hand."

His eyes glitter in the moonlight. "Are you sure you're up to it, dear boy?" he asks.

"I don't see that we have much choice. That truck is blocking the road. If we want to get out of here, we'll have to move it. And to do that we'll have to deal with the fellow who's guarding it.

"I'll follow the tree line." I hand him my gun. "Use the scope to keep an eye on him. If he looks like he's spotted me, attract his attention with a couple shots. Only don't hit the truck, the gunman - or me." The blood begins to pound in my head again and all thoughts of weariness are banished as I move out.

---

Having left the scope with Sergi I'm now stumbling around in the dark. At least my drab clothes blend in to the scenery to some extent. There's probably other stuff I should be doing; like rubbing mud on my face or scattering leaves in my hair. This really isn't an environment I'm comfortable in. I can only hope the guy up ahead of me - more to the side now, which is another worry if Sergi starts shooting - I only hope the guy is as uncomfortable as I am.

Now I'm three-quarters of the way behind him. I'm going to come at him from that angle. Enough to surprise him, not directly behind because of the chance of being hit by a stray bullet. There's maybe ten feet of open space between the treeline and the truck. I take a deep but silent breath, poise myself on the balls of my feet, launch myself at him.

---

OOC Predictably Theo now fails a critical Saving Roll...
I blow it. My back foot sinks into soft vegetation, making enough noise to wake the dead.

The hunter whirls around. I'm closing the distance like the world's slowest athlete. His gun comes up, unless he's the world's worst shot he can't possibly miss. Involuntarily I blink, waiting for the impact ..

[houndle]

OOC First shot
1+3 FAIL/JAM!

He is the world's worst shot, or he has the world's worst pistol. Instead of the explosion there's a dry click. Then I'm on him. I slam him against the side of the truck, hoping to knock him cold with the double impact but he's pretty tough and comes bouncing back. Then we're grappling, swapping punches and curses. Normally I'd take this guy down in a second but I'm slow, hurt, tired. Where the heck is Sergi?

OOC, to spare you the agonising details, I made a SR against Theo's (reduced) CON at the start of each round. Each time he failed Level 1, the difference was deducted from his hand-to-hand score. He managed not to Fumble (which would have meant falling unconscious) but it took him 5 rounds to overcome his opponent. In the meantime I was also rolling for the other NPCs to show up.

Just as the guy sinks down beside the truck I hear ragged breathing behind me.

"You took your time," I say, half turning to greet Sergi. I have a moment to register it's not him before the last guy comes pounding out of the trees and slams into me, looking to use my own trick against me.

---

He's less fortunate than me though, or less quick. I manage to sidestep, use his own momentum to propel him forward and he goes head-first into the door of the truck. The metal bodywork is considerably harder than his head and he collapses bonelessly on the ground.

Now at last Sergi appears, carrying both rifles as well as my automatic. He's sweating freely.

"Nice work," he says regarding the last of our assailants stretched on the dirt. "I couldn't have done better myself."

His bantering tone changes to concern.

"You don't look well. I hope you haven't strained anything. You shouldn't really have been exerting yourself at all."

"Needs must," I say lightly. " If you don't mind though, I'll sit down for a moment." I suit the action to the words, propping myself against a truck tire. Sergi pulls back the tarpaulin covering the rear of the truck. "Well well," I hear him say and then I zone out again.

[houndle]

When I wake up again I'm in the cab of the pickup, jolting around with every bump in the road. There are a lot of bumps in the road. Sergi glances over at me from the driving seat.

"You're awake then. Good," he shouts above the roar of the engine. "Frankly I'm amazed you stayed out as long as you did. Whatever fine qualities this vehicle may possess, comfort is not one of them."

"What's been happening?" I ask woozily. I seem to spend half my time asking that question.

"Well you might ask! We traded our old car for this fine vehicle. Our new friends didn't seem to object to the deal. Actually, they said nothing at all."

"You didn't kill them?" I ask, not really caring one way or the other. Along with the uncomfortable ride this vehicle seems to have a defective muffler. Between the noise and the fumes I have a pounding headache I add to my other woes.

"I wouldn't do a thing like that unless I had to." Sergi sounds shocked. "I can't deny they probably deserved it, but... no, they were alive when I left them. Someone is going to have a long, uncomfortable walk to get help, though.

"Anyway, save your sympathy for someone who deserves it. I found Maisie in the back of the truck, neatly trussed up and somewhat battered. She was so grateful to be released she gave me a succinct account of her adventures. Seems our bull-necked friends picked her up at a local bar and hatched a brilliant plan for kidnapping the Judge on their own account. I think she gave them the impression he was well respected in the community and worth a few bucks to friends and family. They were keeping Maisie as a surety for his good behavior, and maybe for partying once the deal was done."

"Poor kid. What did you do with her?" I ask.

"She's in back, secured again but a little more comfortable than before. The Judge is in there too." He glances to one side where he has a map unfolded. "Shouldn't be long now. There's a nice little motel just up ahead. Once we arrive I'll call the office and see if there's any update."

I close my eyes for a moment, then open them.

"We better call the women too. They'll be worrying. Man, I'll be glad when we can drop off the Judge and get back to our lives."

---

I'm not sure quite what part of the motel qualifies as "nice", but it's discreet and we can park right outside our room and out of sight of the office. Sergi goes to complete the paperwork while I crawl into the back of the truck.

The Judge and Maisie are seated on a pile of gunny sacks, chained to some kind of metal bar. With the canvas tilt fully closed it's pretty ripe in there. I guess I would smell just as bad in their situation. Perhaps I already do.

"How's it going in here?" I ask, more cheerfully than I feel. No answer, but their eyes tell me everything I need to know.

"Okay, listen. I know you've been having a bad time these past few days. I hope it isn't going to last much longer. This really isn't what we planned for, but with any luck we'll be able to let you go soon." I omit to mention that in the Judge's case at least, he might look back on the past few days as a rest cure.

"When my colleague gets back we'll outline what happens next. If you cooperate you should be able to get a shower at least. If you don't cooperate you'll have to stay right here, which will be uncomfortable at best. Moreso if the original owners find you here." At least Maisie gets the message; I watch the panic flash into her eyes.

"So that's your choice. Cooperate and everyone's life will be made as easy as possible. Make a fuss and you'll discover just how difficult life can become."

Sergi pokes his head under the tilt.

"Got a minute?" he asks.

I jump down from the truck - rather gingerly - and Sergi waves me to the front where we can't be heard.

"So I got the word back from the office," he says. "It looks as though the Feds won the jurisdictional battle, no big surprise there. They wanted to come pick up the Judge, but I promised to deliver him to a neutral location tomorrow. I don't want any snags if the men in black suddenly descend on our motel."

"Sounds reasonable," I say. "What about Maisie?" He frowns.

"Not interested. In their view she's just collateral, with no value for their investigation. We can dispose of her how we like."

"We can drop her off at home after we hand over the Judge," I suggest. I can tell from his face this isn't exactly what he had in mind. But Evallyn would never forgive me if I harmed an innocent person.

"This is your show," Sergi allows finally. "I just hope, for both our sakes, that you're making the right decision."

[houndle]

OOC The last few posts became quite lengthy, sorry. Partly in an attempt to avoid arousing the moderator's ire with an excessive post count.

To summarise the next part (full text is quite long, and the dice dictated that not very much actually happened), the handover was set up to take place in an abandoned trailer park near "Baton Rouge, Trollworld". Sergi is to do the handover while Theodore covers him from the back of the pickup. Maisie is still chained up in the truck.

"It won't be long now," I tell Maisie. "We just hand over the Judge and then we can let you go. We'll make sure you can get home safely."

"Thank you for looking after me," she says quietly. "That sounds stupid, but thank you anyway."

I don't reply. I'm looking intently at Sergi and the Judge. I've made a small hole in the canvas, just enough for my eyes and the rifle. A bead of sweat trickles down my face. The Judge is moving slowly, Sergi is basically keeping him upright. They get halfway to the office - and all hell breaks loose.

[houndle]

A shot rings out, somewhere over on the right. I don't see where it goes or where it came from. Sergi reacts instantly, dragging the Judge toward the office, from which a guy in a sharp suit emerges. I'm tracking him, ready to blast him when I realise he can't have been the shooter.

"Lie down!" I order Maisie. "The walls of the truck will protect you." I hear a rattle behind me as she complies.

Now the Judge is straining to get free, fighting Sergi for all he's worth. I don't know if this is a rescue, a hit or what and I still can't see the shooter.

With the suit's help Sergi has got the Judge under control; they are dragging him towards the office, a mistake in my opinion as the walls look pretty flimsy. Then the shooter's back in action, this time firing off a long burst that bowls over the struggling group. But now I can see the muzzle flash; it's coming from behind a junked auto.

"Stay down," I order Maisie hustling to the other side of the truck.

"For God's sake don't leave me chained up," she implores me. After a second's thought I toss the key into her lap.

"Don't run away," I tell her shortly. "You're safer in here while the bullets are flying."

"I will. And thank you," she says and wastes another precious second kissing my cheek.

Getting out the other side of the truck I have reasonable cover to where the shooter was waiting. Unless he's decided to move. I've got my gun out and ready, but if I get close enough I'll take him down hand-to-hand. I'm quite interested to learn who he is - and who he's working for.

I almost make it. The shooter is crouched down resting his gun on an engine block. He's wearing a soiled white suit and a fancy hat, like something out of the Spy vs Spy comics. I'm about to charge when a sixth sense, or maybe my own clumsiness makes him look up. His mouth forms a perfect circle of astonishment and he drags the rifle around. I blast him, aiming for center mass but my aim is slightly off. With a weapon as powerful as the Automag it really doesn't matter. He spins around, unconscious before he hits the ground.

"FBI! Freeze!" The urgent voice sounds behind me. I turn into a statue, gun pointing safely in the air.

"Theodore Cadell. CROW," I say quietly, hoping the guy isn't lying about being a Fed.

OOC The hits from the long burst were determined randomly. Sergi received none of them, the Agent got one and the Judge copped the remainder. The choice of Sergi to escort the Judge was a random roll.

[houndle]

A little while later we're sipping coffee in a shabby office with another suit, whose monicker may or may not be Smith. Frankly I've got better ID badges at home.

The shooter's identity is not yet established. He bled out while the G-Men were frisking me. Judge Sadieli is dead too. That long burst practically cut him in half. Smith's colleague also took a bullet but he should be okay, in time. Miraculously Sergi escaped without a scratch.

Now we're sitting around while our respective chiefs argue about what went down in the trailer park and who's to blame.

Maisie is being held downstairs. She was waiting patiently in our truck when the Feds arrived in force. They tut-tutted over our makeshift arrangements, ignored her questions and put her in handcuffs.

Eventually someone comes to get "Agent Smith". He disappears while the other guy sits down to keep an eye on us. It's almost insulting in its way. But at least we have comfortable chairs and coffee. Maisie probably has a wooden bench and a steel toilet for company.

Eventually Smith returns.

"Okay fellers, you can go now," he says pleasantly. "Your own office will debrief you. You can take the woman with you. Nice meeting you." He gestures toward the door.

"Hold on", I ask. "Who was the shooter in the trailer park? And how did he know we'd be there?"

"Tell you what, why don't you let us worry about that. Go speak to your own people, I'm sure they'll tell you what you need to know." His bland face is expressionless. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you not to be treading on our toes."

"Toes nothing," I say to him. "We were doing fine until your lot came along. Suddenly there's a hitman waiting for us in the car park. Sounds to me as if you have a leak."

"Speak to your chief," he repeats just a little more harshly. "You are not concerned in this investigation. We nearly lost a good agent today. I want to find out why. Anyone who impedes me in doing that will find themselves in big trouble. Now step off and let the grownups get to work."

I start to bristle. Sergi pulls me away.

"Let's go talk to the boss," he says. "We'll take Maisie home too. Have you got the keys to the truck?"

Agent Smith grimaces.

"As to that, we've had to impound your vehicle," he says. "I'll arrange for a car to take you home."

---

We drop off Maisie first. She has an apartment in a decent part of town. Not the best, not the worst.

"I'll walk from here," I tell the driver who seems to be pressed from the same mold as Agent Smith. Dapper and taciturn. "Don't want to waste your time." Actually, I'll need to get a streetcar but I object to giving the Feds my address. Even though they probably have it in some database already.

"I'll do the same," says Sergi. "Maybe I can have a wash at your place." We climb out of the plush seats - the Bureau seems to do itself nicely for vehicles - it pulls away smoothly and suddenly we're all three standing on a street corner looking confusedly at one another.

"Well," says Maisie quietly. "I can't say it's exactly been a pleasure, but at least we all survived. Unlike poor Louis. Don't take this the wrong way, but I hope I never see you again. Theo, Sergi." She extends her hand. I shake it before realising what she just said.

"Wait a minute, did you - ?" One side of her mouth lifts.

"For a federal agent, Mr Smith isn't exactly discreet," she tells me. "If I were you I'd be looking over my shoulder from now on."

END OF CHAPTER ONE