South Park Fan Fiction ❯ Hostage ❯ A Job Well Done ( Chapter 4 )

I wanted to say thank you to Anonymous Void for reviewing. Thank you!

 

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Chapter #4: A Job Well Done

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Three figures stood before a desk and the man seated there. Two wore conservative business suits, one of them also wearing a pair of ridiculous sunglasses, and the third wore all black, a leather jacket and black jeans. The man behind the desk wore his own suit, looking almost debonair despite his obvious age. A plate of buffalo wings, half eaten, sat on his desk in front of him and the man wiped his hands with an expensively made napkin as he prepared to speak.

“Has he left yet?” the older man asked, not looking up at who he was speaking to.

“Hours ago, Father,” the man wearing all black answered. “He should be there by now.”

The older man nodded, pleased but still not looking up. “And our guest?”

This time the one wearing the ridiculous sunglasses answered. “Finally behaving himself. He's gone to sleep.”

“Good,” the older man said and nodded again, finally looking up to address the last figure. “Then everything is going according to plan?”

“Perfectly, Father,” the last figure, the one in the business suit said. “You should have it back by night fall.”

The older man seemed to smile. “Good,” he said again and then waved a hand at them dismissively. “Then you are dismissed.”

The three men nodded gracefully at this and turned to leave.

“Oh, and Theodore?” the older man said as the man in the glasses got to the door. The requested man turned back to face him.

“Yes, Father?” he answered.

“Take off those ridiculous glasses,” the older man said.

Looking a little embarrassed at having been reprimanded in front of his siblings, Theodore nodded his head and took off the glasses. “Yes, Father.”

 

 

Kyle woke up with a painful crick in his neck brought on from sleeping sitting up. Wishing he could have his hands free to rub his neck, he raised his head and blinked at the room tiredly. He hadn't gotten nearly enough sleep.

“Ah, Mr. Broflovski. I see you are finally awake.” The room suddenly flooded with light and Kyle quickly shut his eyes. Ow. Opening his eyes warily, he had to wait for his eyes to adjust and when they did he was left looking at Theodore again, who had once again come with his group of back-up men but was no longer wearing the sunglasses.

“Oh,” Kyle said, somehow not surprised. “You.”

That seemed to make Theodore a bit angry. “You will look at me with excitement! You should feel privileged to have someone as powerful as me here to speak to you.”

“Look, dude,” Kyle said, shaking his head tiredly, “I still don't have a clue what the fuck's going on. Why am I even here?”

Theodore calmed down a little. “I suppose you should understand a little bit about what has brought you here.”

Kyle looked back up at the man. Was he actually going to get some answers?

“It all started with a plan,” Theodore began, looking off into space dramatically. “We would sell our goods to the highest bidder and carefully keep the identities of those who dealt with us a secret. Oh yes. But they didn't like that.” Obviously remembering something, his face darkened. “They thought we were monopolizing the trade and so they broke into our buildings—just as we were doing business!—and they stole from us several of our most loyal employees and a number of our best merchandise. But that was inconsequential.” Looking away dramatically, Theodore waved an arm, signifying it didn't matter. “They could have those. We didn't care. No. But in their greed they had dared to take our loving father's most prized possession.” Looking forward again, Theodore fisted his hand dramatically, fully into his tale. “My brothers and I promised we would get it back, but in doing so we would need help. And so we went to the best in the business.” Theodore finally looked to Kyle as he said dramatically, “To a man called `the Mole'.”

Oh, Kyle thought in sudden understanding. These people must have been Christophe's newest client. The one he wouldn't talk about. That cleared up how Christophe may have gotten involved, but why was Kyle there?

Theodore continued on, his face darkening again in memory. “But when we went to meet this `the Mole' he refused to help us with our simple request.” Theodore turned and began to pace as he talked. “It seemed we would need something to help change his mind. Earlier surveillance had informed us of a boyfriend that the Mole seemed quite fond of.” Theodore stopped walking and turned sharply to Kyle. “Which brings us to you,” he said, “You were taken as our guest and, sure enough, `the Mole' has changed his mind and kindly taken on our case.”

So they'd kidnapped him to make Christophe do their dirty work? Kyle's eyes narrowed. “You bastard.”

Theodore frowned at this. “It was a simple request made with the best of intentions. He'd had no reason to refuse us in the first place. By taking you we were simply making things right.”

“And so now I have to sit here and wait for Chris—the Mole to come back?!” Kyle demanded, almost using Christophe's real name before remembering Christophe's reasons for having a code name in the first place.

Theodore looked pleased, probably thinking up countless way he could use this little slip-up to his advantage. “Chris? The Mole's name is Chris?”

Shit. He'd hoped they wouldn't pick up on that. Time for some damage control. Maybe if he led them down a different path. Kyle tried to look angry and like he was cursing himself for mentioning it. “It's Christian,” he finally corrected resentfully.

“Well?” Theodore turned and demanded of his goons. “What are you waiting for? Somebody write that down!” Two or three thugs hurried off to get paper and a pen.

“It doesn't matter if you know his real name,” Kyle continued as though he had actually been telling the truth, glaring at Theodore rebelliously. “He's going to come back for me and kill you.”

Turning back to him, Theodore smiled, not looking in the least bit scared. “Oh little boy,” he said condescendingly, “You can't even imagine how powerful I am. It doesn't matter how good he is. He's not getting anywhere near me.”

Kyle scowled, not liking that answer. But he didn't believe it either. It was Theodore that didn't understand. Christophe wasn't good. He was amazing. And he would be coming for Kyle. Kyle knew it.

 

 

“Idiots! Do I have to do everything around here?!” the short man asked angrily then pointed off in the other direction, shouting, “I want these out of here by tomorrow! I don't care how you do it, just do it! I'll be in my office fixing” here he glared at his men harder, looking around the circle to make sure everyone got equal amounts of his anger, “this mess you've made. Now go!” The men scattered, the two men on the ground hurrying to their feet and quickly following the others out, almost tripping over each other in their haste.

Once they were gone, the leader sighed and rubbed his brow wearily, saying something under his breath that Christophe couldn't hear. Then he turned and started to walk off. Having decided that following the boss would be the best thing to do if he ever hoped to find the package, Christophe quickly and silently followed.

They arrived at a small, but well organized, office, hidden away in the back of the warehouse. Unable to get inside without being seen, Christophe hid behind a crate and watched as the short man entered and closed the door behind him. It was possible that something in there could point him to the package. Some schematics or plans or something. He'd need to search that office.

Making sure he was in a safe position, Christophe settled in for what could be a long wait.

 

 

“But that doesn't matter,” Theodore said, waving off all ideas of Christophe killing him and getting back to business. “I came to see how you were doing and possibly offer a trade of sorts. You tell us the Mole's name and address and we let you go free.”

Disgusted with him, Kyle glared at the man. “And why would you think I'd give you that? You can take your deal and shove it up your ass.”

Theodore seemed to choose to ignore the better part of that answer, turning to Kyle with a confused frown. “But you've already given us his name. All we need is his address and you are free to go.”

“Go to hell,” Kyle replied.

That made Theodore angry and he glared. “Fine,” he said, “Then since you simply refuse to be reasonable I'm afraid that your stay with us has just been extended indefinitely.” He turned to his goons, not choosing one specifically as he said angrily, “Untie him and take him to the room. Don't let him escape.” And then he turned and stomped from the room.

Three of the goons lining the walls stepped up to untie Kyle, one going behind his back to actually untie the ropes and two waiting for the ropes to loosen before immediately grabbing his arms and starting to drag him from the room. Wondering where he was going, but deciding it couldn't be worse than sitting in that uncomfortable wooden chair for hours on end and knowing that he would never actually be able to rip himself free, Kyle put up only a token struggle as he was dragged off.

They ended up in front of a plain wooden door, indistinguishable from all the other doors just like it in the hallway. Opening the door, the two thugs holding his arms threw him in the room, the door shutting quickly behind him. He was dismayed to hear the sound of the lock clicking into place almost immediately after the door closed.

Still, that didn't mean he couldn't escape and Kyle turned to the window. Tugging at the window to see if it would open, Kyle was discouraged to find that it wouldn't move. Not giving up, he experimentally knocked on the glass and tried to figure out what it would take to break it. Looking around the bare room, he found a cot, a ratty looking blanket, a toilet, and a chair. He could maybe use the chair.

But attempting to move the chair proved fruitless as it had apparently been bolted to the ground. That thing wasn't moving anytime soon. Closer inspection of the cot found this to be true there also.

Disheartened, Kyle plopped down onto the cot and crossed his arms over his chest with a scowl.

He knew Christophe wouldn't mind, but he refused to make the other boy come rescue him like he was some kind of damsel in distress. He was not some helpless little girl. But how could he get free?

And then he noticed the air duct. He didn't have a chance of being able to reach it without some kind of stool or chair to stand on—and it had already been discovered that the chair wasn't moving anytime soon—but it had also given him an idea.

Quickly he went to see what kind of screw had bolted the chair to the ground and was happy to find it was one of those big ones, with a single groove on the top, usually for the screwdriver. He couldn't see what kind of screw held the air duct together, but hopefully it was similar.

His hands went to his pockets, going through them almost desperately. Had they taken it from him? His hands hit something and he smiled, pulling out a dime and two pennies. He would only need the dime.

Now if only this would work.

 

 

Just like Christophe predicted it was a while before he had the chance to search the leader's office. But then it came.

“Boss! Boss!” One of the many lackeys hanging around the warehouse came running into view and Christophe got ready to move if he had to. “Boss!” The lackey knocked frantically on the door.

“What?!” the boss leader shouted, throwing the door open to show that his hair was a mess and he had red lines on the side of his face. He'd obviously been sleeping. “How many times have I told you? When I'm in my office you don't bother me! I'm doing important business!”

“But boss!” the lackey said. “You have to come see this! Quick!”

Obviously not too pleased with having been woken up, the short man narrowed his eyes, but then he grumbled and stepped out of his office, closing the door behind him. “This had better be good,” he warned the lackey.

The lackey nodded frantically. “It is! It is!” He gestured for his boss to follow him and the two walked off.

“What is it?” Christophe heard the short man ask suspiciously and then they were out of hearing range.

Taking this for what it was—his chance—Christophe quickly went to the door and jimmied it open. Slipping inside the well-organized office, Christophe began looking around. He looked in filing cabinets, at papers, went through boxes, and then he came to the desk drawers. The top two proved to hold nothing but office supplies, but the bottom larger drawer was locked. Curious, Christophe easily picked this lock and opened the drawer. Inside, resting on a pile of miscellaneous crap, was a small box, incredibly thin and with a large sticker proclaiming it `Property of the Alexander Company. Do Not Touch.'

This must be the package. A little smaller than Christophe had imagined a weapon of mass destruction could be, but then he hadn't exactly expected it to be mammoth either. They had seemed to think he would be able to carry it out by hand.

“Hey! What are you doing in my office?!”

Christophe's head snapped up. The boss was back and was standing in the doorway, looking angry. Quickly, Christophe grabbed the package and shoved it in a pocket.

“Guards!” the boss yelled. “Guards!”

Christophe wasn't going to wait around for someone to answer the man and ran at the door, pushing the leader to the ground and running for it.

“Somebody stop him!”

The amount of time it took to for the Chinese lackeys to respond was just enough time for Christophe to get behind a large crate, taking shelter from the rain of bullets that were soon coming in his direction. Taking his own gun from the holster around his thigh, Christophe shot back. Hearing an answering cry of pain, he smiled. He'd gotten somebody.

That, of course, didn't mean the others would stop shooting at him and the rain of bullets continued, broken only by the need to refill ammo. Ducking to avoid another round, Christophe darted out from behind his crate to gain cover from another crate, this one closer to the door. Getting on one knee, he popped up from behind the crate and returned fire.

And so the fight continued. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, Christophe was fully into the moment. He loved his job.

Finally getting to the door, he stood up and shot the last of his ammo in all directions, happily hearing an answering cry of pain coming from the right. And then he ducked out into the street, running down the alleyway and into the crowd.

The streets of Hong Kong crowded with people, here he slowed down and tried to blend in with the crowd, walking quickly. Looking back casually, he could see some thugs trying to give chase and Christophe ducked into another alley, deciding to go a more circuitous route back to the beach.

He easily lost his pursuers in the winding streets of Hong Kong and an hour later, once he was sure they were truly gone, Christophe returned to the beach. Getting out his cell phone, he placed a quick call and then sat to wait for the boat to arrive. Now he just had to drop the package off and go and get Kyle.