by Chewy Walrus
EPS headquarters, Chicago:
"WHERE ARE THEY?!"
A thick hand pounded Dr. Charles Walker's desk, causing the scientist to jump a little in surprise. Then, a calm smile spreads over Walker's face.
"Excuse me, Mr. Tweed," Walker said, adjusting his spectacles on his nose. "I wasn't aware that you were standing there."
"Where did Turner and Cicciotto go?" William Tweed demanded. The man had seen better days, that much was certain. His fracas with Turner had left his face battered and bruised almost beyond recognition, with a minor concussion, two broken ribs, and a colossal headache that would likely last him until the end of the month. He'd gotten off lucky, that was certain.
Walker paused a moment, regarding the man solemnly before he continued. "I don't know," he said finally, picking up an ink pen and beginning to make a note on a data readout.
"You 'don't know'?" Tweed bellowed, smiling incredulously as he shook his head. "Lovely! Just lovely! The man with the plan, Dr. Chuck Walker, has lost the world's perfect agent who ran off with a liberation-minded Italian metahero who specializes in delusions of grandeur!"
Walker stopped writing and looked up at the ranting Tweed. "Are you done?"
Tweed scowled and slowly lowered his aching, bandaged form into a chair.
"Now, you say you managed to shoot Turner in the chest before he and Cicciotto escaped, correct?" Walker asked, putting down his pen and steepling his fingers. Tweed nodded. "That means that our friend, the Italian stallion, is most likely hauling Turner around to... wherever his destination is. That's liable to slow him down considerably. We must also remember that Cicciotto is a cook and an athlete, not a doctor or a medical professional. That means that, at some point, he'll have to stop at a hospital, which I'm monitoring very closely."
"So, what you're saying is that they won't get far?" Tweed said, raising his eyebrow.
"Maybe they will..." Walker said, raising his eyebrow. "I might intend for Cicciotto to get where he's going..."
Tweed smiled and tapped his temple lightly with his index finger. "Always thinking, aren't you, Walker?"
"That's right," Walker said with a smile. "Now, go check on Reynolds. I want to make sure he's in fighting shape should anything arise. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," Tweed said, standing, nodding his head as he turned to exit.
"Oh, and William..." Walker said, causing Tweed to look over his shoulder at the seated scientist, "...if you ever call me 'Chuck' again... don't fall asleep..."
Tweed smiled uncomfortably and nodded. "Yes sir," he said quickly and exited.