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The Waiting Room

~ Chapter Six


One Little Monkey


Example content imagePlease, Mort. Stop before you hurt yourself.” Axel rushed to the desk just as Mort went down for the third time. When his head hit the desk he stayed down.

“I don’t even want to look at them anymore.” he thought to himself. With his head still on the desk he quietly pulled the desk drawer open, slipping the bottle out and bringing it between his legs under the desk.

He tugged at the cork, releasing it from the bottle with a soft popping sound. Sparrow did a one-eighty turn on his heel, his eyes narrowed in Mort’s direction.

“Ye do have a bottle, and ye not be sharing. Not a fair way to play the game, I’d say. Now be a good little Morty and share with me hearties. We’d be wanting to drink up too ye know? The ale is getting a bit on the stale side.”

He began to advance towards Rainey. With a curse, Mort threw the bottle back into the drawer and slammed it shut. The sudden sound brought Lerner to his feet, cocking his M-16, shouting “Halt or I’ll shoot” except it was in Vietnamese and no one understood what he said.

Sands had heard the automatic weapon and instinctively pulled his own weapon again, unsure where to aim. BonBon and Ichabod had been standing in his direct fire and each let out their own girlish screams running to opposite corners. The CIA agent followed the cries, disgusted that they were emotionally falling apart.

“Jesus!” Sands threatened, “Will you two cry-babies stop the water works before we all drown in here or before I shoot one of you!”

“Shoot-her” came a slow, southern drawl.

“Shut up, Mort!” came a chorus of voices that shouted back at the man at the desk, his face hidden beneath a black brimmed hat.

“Cease this instant!” Victor shouted above the din. He slapped a small riding whip into his hand, and began pacing about the room. “We need to concentrate. We need to work together to get out of here. The longer we stay here the less chance we have of being heard from again. You!” He pointed the whip in Sparrow’s direction.

Jack’s body lulled around to look behind him but saw no one there. He circled back to face the Cuban, his brow furrowed, his lips pursed, as he pointed to himself.

“Yes, you! Senior Barrie brings us news from the outside and tells me that you have the best chance of getting out soon.” Sparrow's eyebrows arched in surprise, then his wicked little gold-filled pirate smile smirked across his face.

“Well, in that case,” he sidled up in front of Victor, both hands gesturing, pointing in his direction, barely standing on two feet, “I’ll be sure to parlay on your behalf. Or say hello to your Aunt Fanny, which ever ye would be preferring.” He managed to turn around and headed back to the bar.

“Let’s celebrate me upcoming freedom! Barkeep, drinks on the house fer me friends here!”

“The drinks are already free here, Sparrow.”

Jack spun around to face the crowd, giving them an evil eye, but could not decipher who had said it. As he turned back to the bar those nearby could hear him mumble, “That’s Captain Jack Sparrow” He downed a drink, slamming the empty glass to the bar.
“I can’t be leaving without that monkey!” He called out.

“Oh, about the monkey,” Barrie took a small step towards the Captain.

Jack turned to face the Scotsman, his eyes narrowed to slits as he waited for Barrie’s words.

“Someone by the name of Shelley has it.”



 

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