People Watcher Ch. 01: The Van Guys

Author's Note:

I'm attempting something that I've never done before, telling a story within a story. I hope I haven't botched it too badly. Tanya, one of my new favorite characters, has recorded these stories in a Journal and decides to share them with her family. She is my People Watcher. Unless I stop writing, there will be more of this series to come. As if! (If you pictured Alicia Silverstone just then, you might be around my age...)

Thank you to Guinavere and SBrooks103x for the quick review and edit on this. It was short, but they still found at least a dozen things wrong with it. If not for them, all my work would have errors that might otherwise detract from the story.

Disclaimers:

It's probably too long. I probably don't know how to spell very well. Somewhere, a story like this one has likely already been told. If for some reason you make it to the end and still don't like it, I will gladly give you a refund.

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The Van Guys

"Okay, seriously Tanya, you need to tell us another one of your stories," James good-naturedly pestered his beautiful girlfriend.

"Yeah, come on," pouted April, who was sitting to James' right at the table.

Tanya scanned the small crowd, noting that aside from April's mom, Tammy, a few of their other friends were leaning in to hear what the beautiful red-head had to say. She sighed in defeat.

"Yay!" exclaimed the teenager. "I love hearing your stories," she said with a smile.

"First of all, I already told you guys that I write these things in a journal for fun, and only because I find watching people to be fascinating," Tanya began.

"Bah, you have talent and you know it," added Howard. He enjoyed listening to her stories more than April, or so he claimed.

She blushed at his compliment, always feeling that her mediocre talent at writing had over-impressed her friends and family. Still, she had agreed to it, so she pulled out the notebook she seemed to always have with her. It looked like a high school teenager had carried it around, with rough edges and a tattered looking cover to give it character. If you looked closely enough, there might even be a scribble of, "James + Tanya" with a heart around it. Maybe.

Tanya cleared her throat and James chuckled, "Get on with it!"

She gave her boyfriend a playful glare, then cleared her throat again. He simply held up his hands and smiled, winking and blowing a kiss at her. She turned to the page she was looking for and began reading.

"I call this one, The Van Guys," she started, smiling at the crowd now listening intently. At her table were her boyfriend James, and her grandfather Howard. April and her mother Tammy sat at a table next to theirs, with James' friend and mechanic, Shawn, sitting on a bar stool. Shawn's girlfriend Kelly was working behind the bar. There were a few of their regulars in the crowd as well, so Tanya had quite an audience. Thankfully she wasn't shy in front of a crowd, after spending years in Hollywood as an actress.

"One morning, I stood in line for a mocha, before I had to deal with two promotional appearances. The day was going to be extremely long and I was likely to meet several hundred fans in the process. That type of day usually wears me out.

"Behind me, two guys stood talking to each other, both dressed very well. At first, I guessed that they worked in an office somewhere, possibly working in finance or as lawyers. I overheard something odd and decided that maybe these guys were more than they appeared to be."

"The slightly taller, skinnier of the two said to the other, 'You know what coffee does to me, and you're stuck in that van with me all day.'"

Tanya continued, "A van? What would two guys dressed like that, be doing in a van all day? Were they cops going on a stakeout? Were they Mob hitmen? My imagination ran away like always..."

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The day began like any other. Dale got up, showered, fixed a cup of coffee in his travel mug, and kissed his sleeping wife goodbye for the day. He drove his 2-year-old Toyota to an average looking warehouse, parked in the same spot, and went in the side entrance.

His partner, Jim, had pulled in just after Dale. Jim hopped down from the cab of his extra-high lifted truck, grinning like always. He slammed the door to the truck, walked towards the same side door and followed Dale inside.

"What's up, man? How'd it go last night?" Jim asked.

"Great! Karen loved the roses, and dinner was amazing. We barely made it in the door before we tore each other's clothes off. Thanks for the advice," Dale replied with a smile.

"Glad to hear it. So, what do you think the boss will have us doing today?" he asked as they walked down the hall. His partner simply shrugged.

Dale and Jim, had barely gotten inside the door to his office, before an older man behind the desk barked, "Sit!"

The two sat in the chairs facing his desk and sat waiting for him to begin. They didn't have to wait long, as he began growling. "God DAMMIT!" slamming his fist down on the desk. "Those ASSHOLES fucked up another Op, and we gotta clean up after them," he exclaimed.

Dale and Jim shared a quick look, then faced forward again. They both knew what that statement meant. The idiots at the FBI had screwed up some operation, and they'd have to go in after them and fix it. Their agency had seen several of these cleanup operations lately, not that Dale or Jim cared. The only real down-side for them was an irate boss.

"Okay, Boss, so what do you want us to do?" asked Jim.

"Take the van," he replied simply, his anger already cooling off.

Jim nodded, and Dale stood to follow him out of the office. As they made the way towards the garage, they stopped off to get the keys. Without even saying a word, the guy behind the desk slid a clipboard over and Jim signed the paper, taking the keys from the attendant.

"Damn, what do you think got Ed so riled up? You'd swear the Feebs had screwed him over personally."

"Not sure, but glad to be away from here," replied Dale, shrugging. "The last time I had to spend a whole day with him that mad, I nearly quit."

They walked towards a dark grey van, in a row of several nondescript looking panel vans just like it. Jim hit the button on the key fob unlocking the doors. Jim got in as Dale slid the side door open, climbing into the back. At that point, the two didn't need to say much else. They knew what to do.

Dale began turning systems on the minute Jim had started the engine. The van's big 454 rumbled to life, roaring after it's long nap. Jim drove them out of the garage and began following the dashboard GPS to their destination. As he did, he called over his shoulder to his partner.

"Hey, feel like stopping for a latte? We might be in this thing for a while."

"Sure, why not?" Dale answered, as he finished his systems check. All the gear he would need was working as expected.

Jim drove for another two minutes until the Starbucks came into sight, slowing and eventually parking a few spots away from the door. Both men got out and Jim locked the van. Both knew that its above average security systems would keep it safe, at least for the next few minutes.

"I'll have a decaf vanilla latte, please," ordered Jim.

Dale gave him a funny look, then asked, "Decaf?"

"What? You know what coffee does to me, and you're stuck in that van with me all day."

Dale just shrugged, smiled, and ordered his half-caf, iced white chocolate mocha. Most parts of the country, this might have seemed over-complicated. Here, in the suburbs of Seattle, the next person in line ordered a drink twice as complex and even harder to recite. The barista nailed it though, as they almost always did.

Jim and Dale got their drinks and walked back out to the van. Once the doors were closed and the engine roared back to life, they put on their game faces. Neither spoke a word as they followed the GPS again, heading to a location on the map.

Dale examined one of his screens, found what he was looking for, and sent a message back to base. Without looking away from the screen, he called out to Jim, "The package is moving, your GPS should be updating."

Jim didn't reply, simply turned at the next intersection when the green arrow pointed in a new direction. As they drove, he reached down to his seat holster, and felt for the familiar presence of his trusty side-arm. The Beretta M9 was cold, but Jim's familiarization with the weapon made him feel a little more comfortable. It wasn't that he was afraid, just making sure it was ready if he needed it.

Dale clicked a button on a panel next to the screen and continued watching as the image shifted from static to that of a car on the move. He watched the direct satellite feed, making sure that he kept the target in sight.

"Looks like another tank," commented Dale. Jim simply grunted in response.

Jim sat at the next red light, watching as a sleek black limo passed through the intersection in front of them. He hit the gas after the last car cleared the intersection, turning to follow.

Dale keyed his mic, "Target in sight, beginning tail."

A second later, he got confirmation from a female voice saying a simple, "Roger."

No further words were spoken as they continued the circuit around the block. Jim easily pulled into traffic two cars behind the target. A few traffic lights later, the limo turned into a warehouse parking lot, aiming straight for one of the large roll-up doors. The door opened, and the car pulled in, before the door shut behind it just as quickly.

Jim drove ahead to the next block, circling back and parking at a nearby warehouse. Once parked, Dale got to work. He turned to a different display and began typing rapidly on his keyboard. Jim left the keys in the ignition, got up and moved back behind Dale, closing a curtain on the compartment as he passed.

Jim sat in the comfortable chair, silently waiting for his partner to finish his work. In a few short minutes, he was done and turned around.

"Well, surveillance is up and forwarded back to HQ. We've been on these kind of babysitting jobs before, so now we wait," Dale reported.

"Yup, don't I know it," Jim added.

Jim was no rookie, and immediately went to the back of the van, double-checking the arms locker. The rear doors were locked with a system similar to those used on armored cars, and a cage of sorts had been erected inside. The chain-link fence opened to a full floor-to-ceiling rack of weapons.

As Jim checked each weapon, he couldn't help but chuckle. The last time they'd needed anything from "The Cage" was several months before. He commented on it to his partner.

"Remember Garcia?"

"Huh, how could I forget that little guy?" responded Dale, chuckling as well. "He was just supposed to let us pick him up, but no-o-o-o, he just had to kill his cousin on the way out. Fucker."

That episode had left their van riddled with bullet holes, gotten their mark shot in the leg, and pissed off their boss. On top of that, the cleanup crew had to spend nearly four hours cleaning up the mess. Thankfully that whole debacle had been unnoticed and unreported to police.

Jim completed his inventory and inspection, sat back down by his partner. Dale finished what he was doing and turned around to face Jim. The two had been doing this together for nearly six years, so both knew that it was a sit-and-wait game now.

"So, you treatin' my little sister good?" asked Jim.

"Little? Karen'd kick your ass if she heard you call her your little sister," chuckled Dale.

"Yeah, but it'd be worth it. I love pointing out to her that I'm five minutes older than she is."

"At least you're not identical twins, I'd divorce her if she looked as ugly as you," Dale said as Jim began laughing heartily.

Just then, a red light began beeping on the console behind Dale. Jim caught it quickly and pointed for his partner's benefit. Dale swung around and began typing on the keyboard as if his fingers had never left it. In a few seconds, the image on-screen shifted to the inside of the warehouse.

"Hack's done. Security systems are ours," he said, completely unnecessarily.

The pair watched as the image shifted between cameras, until Dale stopped it on one they were very interested in. On the screen, they saw the large man they were here to watch. The imposing figure on the screen was pacing in an office, looking very agitated. Sitting at the desk, was a woman who needed no introduction. They watched as the infamous mercenary, only known as Mantis, twirled a small shining blade in her right hand.

It was times like this, Jim wished they could have remote audio. They only got that lucky when they were outdoors, or the office was on a wall they could target with microwave. His argument for a newer class of microphone was denied. The manufacturer had priced the newest model at near extortion-level amounts, so his boss had rejected his request with scorn, actually yelling, "Fuck off!" as he threw the papers back at Jim.

The pacing stopped, and the large man turned facing the desk. Mantis pointed to a chair, and the man sat down. His demeanor seemed to calm as the two spoke. Their meeting took close to thirty minutes, but the man smiled and shook her hand at the end. He retreated out of the office, and they watched as he returned to his limo. The roll-up door opened, and the car drove out, the door closing behind them.

Dale typed in some further commands, and control of the building was returned to its original status. Jim had already gotten the van ready to move, when Dale stopped him by holding up his index finger. He listened as his earpiece came to life.

"Alpha-Four, you are to proceed back to target origination and apprehend."

"Roger," Dale answered. Turning to Jim, he said, "Time to get us a Congressman."

Jim fired up the van and they were off. It only took him about two blocks to catch up to the limo, and they followed behind a minivan, until the limo turned into the driveway of the Congressman's palatial home. Jim parked the van directly behind the limo, and the pair jumped out quickly.

The tall Congressman and his bodyguard had just made it to the front door, when both were jolted by a surge of electricity through their bodies. Jim and Dale ran forward to grab the crumpled Congressman and dragged him back towards the van. Once he was safely in the rear, Jim backed out quickly and drove to their HQ, leaving the incapacitated bodyguard behind. Dale bound their large target's wrists and ankles with zip-tie style restraints, before sitting in his chair.

Both heaved a huge sigh of relief, as they pulled into the HQ garage. The van was met by several agents, helping unload and transport the target away. He would be questioned in a room, by someone that specialized in that sort of thing. Jim and Dale, done for the day, dropped off the keys to the van with dispatch, and met up in the parking lot.

"So, you still coming tonight?" Dale asked.

"Hell yeah! I wouldn't miss my sister's famous fried chicken for the world," exclaimed Jim.

"What about Suzie, you still seeing her?"

"Nah, she decided that she couldn't stay monogamous, but I will be bringing Alice," replied Jim, with a smirk.

"You, sir, are my inspiration," laughed Dale, joking with his long-time friend and brother-in-law.

They both got in their vehicles and left.

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Robert, the Congressman, awoke in a dark room, a single low-wattage bulb hung from the ceiling. He came to slowly, blinking and asking in confusion, "Where am I? What the..."

"Shut up!" barked an angry looking shadow, sitting across the table in front of him.

Robert's head shot up, and immediately he regretted it, his head pounding with an extreme level of pain. He opened his eyes, and they got wider as he recognized the dark face in front of him. Robert's face lost what little remaining color it had, a pale look for seeing the ghost that he knew shouldn't be alive.

"You tried to have me killed... Dear!" said the angry woman, standing up.

Robert's head snapped to the side, her full-fisted punch hitting him so quickly that he hadn't even had time to think about blocking it. His head lolled forward, blood already dripping from a split lip. She shook her hand, seeming to enjoy the sting her knuckles now felt.

"Did you think you could actually get away with hiring a hitman?" his angry wife asked. Her demeanor changed suddenly, and she started laughing evilly. "No matter. Now I will get the divorce that I've wanted, and you... you will get what you deserve."

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"Anyway, the two were probably just a couple of insurance agents in a vanpool, but that wouldn't make for a very fun story, now would it?" Tanya finished, closing the notebook.

There was silence for a few seconds, and then Shawn began clapping with a loud, "Whoop," turning the entire crowd into a cheering mass. Tanya didn't blush, but felt a warmth come over her. This crowd was more important to her than any award show she'd ever been to. Her heart swelled with pride as she looked at all their faces.

This was her family.

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I have several of these shorts in the works, as Tanya takes over the role as story-teller. To be honest, I'm looking forward to the break as she does all the work for me, for a while anyhow ;)