Sierra || Lloyd Hansen

4. On The Run

You follow Court through a crowd of pedestrians as police cars slowly part the crowd, heading towards the building. Fireworks pop in the distance and you feel your heart racing as you try to wrap your head around what just happened. Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by Court's phone buzzing in his pocket. He answers and you turn up the volume of your earpiece to hear what he's hearing.

"Six," Court answers, continuing to walk.

"Wanna explain whatever that was?" you hear Denny Carmichael's stern tone.

"Gun jammed," Court sticks to the excuse he used earlier. He looks over his shoulder and nods to you to let you know the coast is currently clear and you aren't being followed.

"That doesn't qualify as an explanation."

"Maybe on a secure line."

"I need a status report. Insecure line. Did the target say anything to you or Five?"

"Well, he was dead, so, you know, no."

You look at the necklace still clutched in your hand and gently pop the top off, revealing some type of drive. You look at Court and show him what you found.

"What about pocket litter? Did you get anything off his body?" Carmichael prys further, getting no response. "Six, did he have anything on his person that you or Five now have that you'd like to give to me?"

"Who was he?" Court asks, avoiding the question as you close the necklace, slipping it into your pocket.

"A bad guy."

"Carrying?"

"Bad shit."

Court looks back at you, trying to decide what you can do, what your options are. You shake your head slightly, not wanting to play along in whatever game Carmichael is leading.

"Last chance, Six. Same goes for Five."

"Understood," Court hangs up the call.

You look across the street and spot a store. Figuring you're both forced to go on the run now, you head over to get some new clothes with the spare cash you have on you. A blue suit isn't going to continue to keep you hidden.

"Hey," you hear Court call to someone near him, "You a 42 regular?"

≣≛▸✭◂≛≣

Surrounded by indistinct chatter in a mix of Thai and English as those around you focus on their video games, you sit down at a computer. You slip the drive in the port and open it as Court walks over to stand behind your chair, watching over your shoulder and keeping an eye out for the both of you.

Files pop up on your screen along with pictures of Carmichael. When you click on anything, it asks you to enter an authentication key. With only three attempts available, you decide to not press your luck. You feel your phone buzz in your pocket.

"Yeah," you answer, leaning back in the chair. Court leans forward so he can hear enough without you putting the call on speaker.

"Wheels up in five. Carmichael's been calling," Dani speaks on the other end.

"We spoke. You should go without us."

"You sure you wanna do that? Both of you? What happened with the target, Five? Tell me what I don't know," she pressed gently.

"Well, that's the problem, isn't it?" you mutter slightly before hanging up.

Court takes the drive out of the port of the computer and you hand him the necklace. He places the drive safely back inside and puts it in the pocket of his newly acquired track suit. He places his phone on the table next to the computer and you follow suit, ditching yours as well.

"No way in Hell we get it right in three tries. We do know someone who will though," he starts walking off with you following at his side.

"You got a plan?" you ask.

"Enough of one at least. Any idea where we can get a couple of masks?"

≣≛▸✭◂≛≣

You and Court pause in an alleyway, far enough from anyone else to keep a conversation private as he places a call on a burner phone you just got with your remaining cash. He places the call on speaker, only loud enough for you to both hear.

"Max's Fireplace and Barbecue," the familiar voice answers.

"You Max?" Court asks.

"There is no Max," Fitz responds.

"So it's like 'to the max'?" you ask, smiling slightly.

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you just say that in the first place?" you question.

"Because if something went wrong, I couldn't blame Max."

"How you doing, Fitz?" Court jumps back into the conversation.

"It's good to hear from you two."

"How's life in retirement?" Court begins with some small talk.

"I'm headed to a funeral. Putting a friend in the ground. I'm getting to that age, you know? You two working?"

"We were," you respond.

"Got loud?"

"It got loud. Got real weird too. You know that guy that handed you your walking papers?"

"Yeah, Carmichael."

"Well, brace yourself, but, uh, he might be sideways," Court states.

"Might be?" you tease, earning a slight eye roll from Court.

"I'm shocked," Fitz responds in monotone, "What's your gut?"

"My gut? It's gonna be our funerals you're going to next," you state quite bluntly.

"Give me an hour to find a local extraction team. Get mobile. You may have to hustle."

You look around, spotting an unmanned taxi. You walk over and Court follows, taking the phone off speaker as you hotwire the taxi effortlessly.

"Let me ask you a question," Court says to Fitz, "Four have a scar on his right chin?"

You move to the passenger seat and look at Court once you've gotten the taxi started.

"They just had me stick a fork in him," Court informs Fitz, getting into the drivers' seat. "Some foreign op bullshit," he continues on the phone, "You know they don't tell us much. He gave us something they really want."

You lean back against your seat, feeling tired.

"No. Somewhere safe."

You nod to the phone and Court puts it back on speaker for you to hear.

"Well, I'll do some checking. I still have friends up the food chain. Where are ya?"

"Bangkok," you reply tiredly.

"There's an airfield near Chiang Mai. Get to it. Watch your backs. Take care of each other."

"Always," you smile slightly.

"You too," Court adds, knowing Fitz could be putting himself in danger with this. "Hey, Fitz. I know there wasn't some palm trees 401k plan for either of us here," he looks at you, "but, uh, I mean, at least tell me you guys had some kind of exit strategy."

"We never got that far, kid," Fitz replies, sounding defeated. You sigh lightly and just nod your head slightly. "And now, probably not."

"Got it."

"I'm sorry. I'll be in touch."

"Beats being on the wrong side of the bars," Court admits before hanging up the call.

You stifle a yawn as Court begins to drive.

"I'll wake you if I'm too tired to drive anymore. Get some rest, we've got a rough road ahead," Court states gently, keeping his eyes on the road.

"No shit," you mutter, leaning your head back and closing your eyes.