Passing the box under his arm, Jared held it there until it was pulled from his hand.
“I don’t know what you want,” he began, “Or who you think I am but-.”
“Shut up,” yoga pants demanded, “I said turn around.” Gritting his teeth he slowly spun around to face his gun stealer. She was shorter than him but not by much. She was wearing a pair of those brown uggs that all the fashionable chicks on campus wore. Inside her black yoga pants were tucked and he followed them all the way up along the curves of her thighs and hips. If he weren’t being held at gunpoint he might have actually admired them. She wore a thin leather jacket that was unzipped just far enough to for him to see she was wearing a low cut shirt underneath. Looking over the barrel that was pointed directly at his chest, he saw that she had a young looking face—couldn’t be much older than him. She had a short blond pixie cut that made her look even younger and her cobalt blue eyes sparkled with a hidden sense of adventure.
“I don’t have any money,” he tried again, “as for the car-.”
“I don’t want your money or your car,” she said with a grin as she shook the box he handed her, “don’t you know it’s illegal to just leave a gun lying around in your car.” Clearly he wasn’t going to be able to reason with her which left him with only one option—flirt his way out.
“I also do believe it’s illegal to point a gun at someone’s chest,” he said as he used his index finger to point the barrel of the gun lower.
“Touché,” she replied as she lifted the gun to its original position.
“What is that? A Walther PPK?” he asked.
“It sure is. Almost a match to your P22 inside this,” she said as she gave the box a shake.
“How did you-,” he began but was cut off.
“Listen baby-cakes,” she said as she placed the gun case in between her legs and reached into her jacket pocket. “I need you to-.” Yoga pants cut herself short as a campus police cruiser turned into their section of the parking lot. “You better sell this or else I’ll do more than take just your gun.” Thinking quickly she folder her arms and jammed the gun under her arm.
Think of something! Jared screamed in his head, close the gap, get close, and take her gun.
“It’s alright,” he said as he hugged her, “I’m sure you’ll do better on your second attempt. The MCATs are tough.” As he snaked his arms up her back and reached for the pistol.
“Touch it and we’ll see how good a doctor you are with a hole in your hand,” she hissed in his ear.
“Everything alright here?” the officer asked from his car.
“Everything’s just fine, officer,” yoga pants said with a smile, “my friend here was just trying to get me to come over to his place but I told him I’m just not that kind of girl.” The officer glared in Jared’s direction, Jared just returned a weak smile and a shrug of his shoulders.
“Keep out of trouble you two,” the officer said as he drove off.
“Now where were we? Oh yeah,” she shoved him towards the trunk and resumed holding him at gunpoint. She reached into her pocket and took out a syringe of a clear liquid.
“What is that? I thought you just wanted my gun!”
“Aw, you thought I was serious. No, I want you and this,” she bit the cap off the needle, “is ketamine. I’m sure you’ve studied in class, you know, it knocks the person out cold. Anyway, be a good little boy and stick this in your arm.”
“You crazy bitch!”
“Now, now,” she thrust the gun into his chest, “do we have to do this the hard way?”
“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth as he took the needle.
“It works fast so you probably should get in the trunk.” He rolled his eyes and hopped in the trunk so he was sitting in it with his legs hanging out. He held the needle in his mouth as he rolled up his sleeve and slapped his forearm until he discovered a vein.
“Just for the record,” he winced as he stuck the tip into his arm, “I bet you are that kind of girl.”
“You bet I am baby-cakes. Now get your legs in, that’s a good boy.” As Jared lay there folded up in Sally’s trunk the world began to swim. “And if I wrote the MCATs I’d get them on my first try.” She slammed the trunk shut and the world went dark. His last thought before he blacked out was, that fucking broad.
* * * * *
When Jared finally came to he was still locked in the trunk of Sally. He heard murmurs coming from outside but his head gave a particularly painful throb and he all but passed out again. Shuffling as quietly as he could, he moved towards the side of the trunk that was made up from the back of the rear seats. Running his hand lightly along, he found the trunk access port. Slowly pushing it open he could see a tiny portion of the interior. From what he could tell the car was empty and was parked in some kind of garage.
“No!” he hissed in disbelief as he caught sight of something lying in the back seat. Turns out yoga pants had tossed his gun case into the back seat once she thought he was out. Quietly as he could he pulled the case into the trunk with him and dialed in the combination. Opening the case he pulled out his pistol, checked the magazine and slid it into it’s housing. Straining he ears he tried to find out what was going on outside.
“How much ketamine did you give him?” asked a male voice.
“Enough to keep him out for at least another hour, if not more,” replied yoga pants. “Although, that deadpan stare he gave me as he was injecting himself—I thought that he was going to wake up on the ride over here and crawl through the backseat.”
“Yeah,” the male voice agreed, “he is one stubborn son of a bitch. Someone once bet him that he wouldn’t be able to pass physical chemistry without taking a third year physics class.”
“He scored a 96.” Jared was only half-listening, he was more focused on the movement of the voices. The male had come to a halt right in front of the trunk, now was his chance. He ran over everything Greg had taught him about wielding a gun against someone in case of an emergency. Keep your weight on your hind leg, that way if they lunge you can back pedal. Hold the gun with both hands; it’ll be harder to take away from you. Keep your finger along the barrel unless you’re ready to fire, it prevents messy mistakes from happening. With all these tips in mind, Jared pulled on the safety release and sprung out of the trunk. All his gun safety lessons proved moot when he was aiming his nine mm at his teacher. There stood Greg, arms slightly raised, dressed in combat boots, black pants, and a black t-shirt.
“What the actual fuck,” Jared exclaimed when he stepped out of the trunk, gun still raised.
“I can explain,” Greg reassured, “just put the gun down and we can talk.” Greg took a step forward and held a hand out for the gun.
A million thoughts were whirling around in Jared’s head. Did his roommate really have a hand in his abduction? Was this all some kind of sick joke? Was Pete going to pop out with a bottle of booze so they could all laugh about it? Greg had been his roommate for the past three years; Jared had come to trust him. Deciding to give his roommate the benefit of the doubt, he was about to hand him the gun when he heard footsteps behind him.
“Sid, don’t!” Greg called out as Jared was hit from behind.
Sidney Phelps wasn’t going to stand by as some civilian held Greg at gunpoint. Thinking quickly she took her gun and smashed it against the head of the boy from the trunk. Jared quickly crumpled to the floor, the gun slid from his hand.
* * * * *
When he next awoke, he was lying on a couch in a darkroom. From his vantage point he could just make out that the only pieces of furniture in the room were his couch and a chair in a far corner. What interested him more was the person seated in the chair.
“Finally awake, are you?” Greg asked as he stood. “I thought she might have killed you.”
“That crazy broad? The one that kidnapped me? What is going on?!” Jared tried to sit up but the world swam around him, forcing him to quickly lie down again.
“Here,” Greg said handing him an icepack.
“Can you tell me what is going on? Where are we? Why’d you bring me here?”
“Where we are is classified. I won’t be able to tell you much until your clearance checks out.”
“Classified? Clearance? What are you talking about?”
“I guess I better start at the beginning. Do you remember when you first moved in and you got me hooked on that TV show about the spy?”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“Do you also remember me applying for CSIS as a joke? Thinking they would never take me because I was still in school?”
“They didn’t hire you, you said they rejected you.”
“I lied,” Greg explained, “A month later I was brought in for an interview and that summer I was sent for training.”
“So what, you’re a spy now?”
“Sort of, again it’s classified.”
“Why bring me here then if you can’t tell me anything?”
“Well this is where I need to bend a few of the rules in order to do what needs to be done.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Follow me.” Jared got up and swayed uneasily, Greg gave him a worried glance, but Jared waved him off. They moved out of the room and into a hallway that was lit only by an industrial floodlight at the end. All the windows had been boarded up and Jared nearly tripped on the thick cords that ran along the floor.
“Doesn’t have electricity, so we make do with a generator,” his roommate explained.
“My main op since joining CSIS was to take care of an asset. He was an arms dealer of some pretty nasty people in the world but it worked out well in our favor. He would tell us where shipments of the nasty stuff were going. We would then be able to better gear and arm our troops to go in a take the threat out. Unfortunately this asset died and we’ve received intelligence that he may have gone rogue in his last months.”
“Still haven’t explained why you brought me here and drugged I might add.”
“Because it was either the ketamine or a head bag and I thought ketamine would be more fun,” Sid called out from the other room. Both boys entered the kitchen where they wrinkled their noses. “Momma’s almost got dinner ready,” she grinned from over a large pot on the stove.
“Smells disgusting,” Jared said.
“Do I need to hit you again?”
“Whatcha making?” he ignored her as he eyed the pot. Sid looked towards Greg to see if she could answer, he nodded.
“It’s too thin, if you used gasoline add in some Styrofoam, that should thicken it to jelly.” Both operatives shared a look. “Being a chem major comes in handy. You were saying about the asset.”
“Oh, yeah,” Greg said shaking his head in disbelief, “follow me.” They left the kitchen as Sid was throwing chunks of Styrofoam into the pot.
Heading upstairs the stopped in front of a door.
“Basically, the asset had a nephew that we tried to turn, get him to work for us,” he said as he pushed open the door, “so far he’s been unresponsive.” Inside the room was a man that looked no other than Jared and oddly enough, looked fairly similar to him as well.
“You kidnapped me! You have no right to hold me here!” the man yelled.
“Take a number,” Jared sighed.
“Long story short, we’ve been trying to convince him to help us and try to figure out if his uncle was an asset or a terrorist.”
“I’m not helping you with shit!”
“You still haven’t explained,” Jared droned.
“You’ve always been up for adventure,” Greg said with a small smile.
“Basically the higher ups want, Bucky here for questioning. Meaning I can’t use him in my op. I thought that since you guys look similar you could pretend to be him.
“You want me to pretend to be him.”
“Him? He could never pull me off!”
“Are you up for it?” Greg asked as he gagged his captive. “Do you want to be the nephew of a notorious arms dealer?”