Mister Nobody

Chapter 12

Holloway watched the crash intently from the helicopter feed, and his eyes widened. "Jesus Christ..." He whispered as he spoke into the headset. "What's the status of the suspects?" One of the agents on the scene answered. "Unknown sir. Moving to investigate now." Shouting to the driver, Holloway looked at him. "Get us over there, now!" Nodding, the driver pulled the MCC out of the alley towards the Lincoln Tunnel. Looking over at Ralston, Holloway stared at him intently. "Well, I guess your boy was a bit more suicidal than you thought." Ralston didn't say anything and simply stared at the live feed of the crash. A few minutes later, the MCC parked in front of the toll road that led into the tunnel. Stepping out the back of the trailer, Holloway could see several onlookers and news vans pulling up. "Ah, hell. Marcusson, get those people back, now! And find out who the hell thought it was a bright idea to start shooting at DeLancie." He said, and Marcusson nodded, walking up to the roadblocks with other cops to keep the public at bay. Walking down to the scene of the wreck, Holloway pulled out his sidearm, staring at the totalled sedan. A few cops were already on the scene, their police cars surrounding the two vehicles. Looking inside, Holloway's eyes widened to see the sedan was completely empty. "No...goddamn it, no!" He shouted, then turned to all the cops. "Sweep the tunnel! They can't have gotten far. Inform our boys at the other end that they're still alive!" Nodding, several of the cops rushed to their vehicles and drove into the tunnel, their sirens wailing. Holloway looked around, sighing as he started his walk back to the MCC. "Shit."

Heading back to the trailer, he could see Ralston standing on the steps, holding out a pack of cigarettes. "You smoke?" Holloway looked at them. "Trying to quit." Ralston didn't put the pack down, and then Holloway sighed as he took one, leaning over to put it over Ralston's lighter. "Who the hell is this guy? And why the hell would he go rogue, is the question?" Ralston blew out a puff of smoke as he sighed. "That even I don't know, Deputy Director. What I do know is that he's not one to give up easily. He had to have a plan of some sort, even for this." Laughing a little, Holloway shrugged, his lit cigarette dragging a line through the air. "We've blocked off the entire tunnel. Unless he's thinking of walking the whole way, he's not getting far." Taking another drag, he looked back at Ralston. "Who's the girl? She another one of yours?" Ralston paused, holding his cigarette between his thumb and index finger. "She's...a complication. Right now, Deputy Director Holloway, your objective should be Mr. DeLancie and no one else." Sighing, Holloway shook his head and sucked on the cigarette. "You leave that to me. And I'm not doing anything else until you put all your cards on the table." Then, a voice crackled through his headset. "MCC, this is Unit 3-Adam-15, over." Putting his hand up to the headset, Holloway responded. "Go ahead, 3-Adam-15." The cop spoke back. "Just swept the tunnel, no sign of the suspects. Just wanted to know if you needed any backup for the highway checks, sir." Frowning, Holloway stood up. "What highway checks?" The cop spoke, now less sure. "The check of the 495, sir. The one you ordered. 6-Adam-9 mentioned it, they're already out there." Dropping his cigarette, Holloway blew out the last puff of smoke. "Fuck me."

The police car that had been a part of the unit which swept the Lincoln Tunnel was now heading down the 495 highway at a steady 120 mp/h, with the lights turned off as to avoid suspicion. Jack sighed as he took off the NYPD cap that he'd stolen off the cop and threw it in the backseat. "Holy crap...that actually worked." Alison kept checking the rear-view mirror. "Don't pat yourself on the back yet. We're not that far out from Manhattan yet. We need to find a place to ditch this car. Chances are they've already made it." Nodding, Jack pulled out a few more mags from the belt he'd taken. "Well, good news, is, we got plenty of ammo now." Placing the Glock in the new holster, Jack decided that he might as well keep it, considering how they would probably need it. "So...you muttered something about Ralston back when the cops were shooting at us." He said, and Alison sighed. "Ralston...he's our tutor. He was a teacher and surrogate father to many of us back when we were being trained. He may seem normal and innocent on the outside, but that's what he wants you to see. He's a killer, just like the rest of us." Jack leaned back, sighing. "I never asked...what's with the tattoos?" Alison checked the mirrors for any cars behind them. "They're our ranks. Rooks are field agents, just out of graduation. Knights are those who've had more experience, or are people who are too skilled to be considered just Rooks. Bishops are those who've been under for years, and some who've become administrators in the program." Jack nodded. "That just leaves King and Queen. What about them?" Alison shook her head. "No one knows. No one's ever seen them before. Bishops don't talk about them, and some people don't even think they exist." Jack thought about it. "But someone has to be pulling the strings, right?" Alison sighed. "I don't know. For now, we should just get off this road and find a place to rest for the night, plan our next move." Nodding, Jack looked out the window as they began to turn off the highway. He still couldn't quite believe his life had come to this.