Disco Bomb

Chapter 14

May 19th, 2017. 7:45 PM.

I don't know how long I was unconscious for, but I woke up in a cold and unfamiliar room. I sat tied to a chair. Dane must have skimped on the rope part of the hostage budget, because although Jack and I were in separate chairs, we were tied back-to-back, our hands and feet tied to each other's. I could feel the back of his head against mine, so he was also awake. I could smell rain and hear faint pitter-pattering, and unless someone was playing the sound of rain on the stereo, we were close to an exit.

I groaned, reeling from the impact of the taser. "You okay?"

"As okay as I can be, I guess. You?"

"Same." I sighed. "You do realize you forgot to turn the microphone back on, right?"

"When I realized that I couldn't hear anyone speaking." The black wire and microphone now lay coiled on a desk to my right, along with our guns and a Swiss Army knife. "Do you think they realized what happened?"

I did, but the door opened before I could answer. Bruce Dane strolled in, a pistol in one hand, wearing a tuxedo and a grin. "Good, you're awake. I find dragging people is much harder when they're unconscious."

I smirked. "All by yourself? Where's your partner?"

"Excellent question, Ms. Scott. And might I say you are much lovelier in person than under a scope and through a phone?" His smile stretches. "Bailey's out guarding the perimeter. I work inside, planting the bomb and making sure nobody touches it."

Dane nodded at Jack. "Thank you so much for turning off your microphone, Mr. Lane. I couldn't have your lackeys discovering it was really inside the disco ball. But I guess you couldn't have everyone hearing you flirt with your girlfriend."

My God, he must have been right next to us. There was no other way he could hear us.

Dane liked the sound of his own voice. "You've known each other what, six months already? Makes you wonder how a real estate agent got together with a Chief Investigator, and how he became Chief of Police after getting fired."

"Getting fired at, actually," Jack said. "You didn't happen to see what happened during those six months, did you? I didn't get promoted by good looks alone."

"Speaking of which," I added, "you haven't done very much. You planted a few bombs, stalked me and tasered us."

"Do you know how many people have looked us up?"

"Or tied us to chairs?"

"Or dragged us unconscious?"

"Or tampered with fuse boxes?"

"ENOUGH!" Bruce slammed his fist against the table, sending the knife clattering to the ground. I doubt he noticed. "You people act so tough, you know? And I'm tired of it."

He cocked his gun. "Well, I have a party to get to and plenty of policemen to blow up. But before I do..." He pointed at Jack. "You. Head or tails?"

The Chief considered. "Heads."

Dane grinned and flipped a penny, catching it in his hand. "Well, it's your lucky day."

And he shot Jack.