Chapter 84

Chapter 84—Jack meets William 

1:44 a.m., Friday, December 30 

William’s words startled Jack out of his nap. “What’s this all about” he asked, forcing his eyes wide open.
“Cops. And lots of them.” William said. “They seem fixated on you. Don’t make any quick move.”
Jack had an uncanny ability to go from zero to sixty in record time. He had been sleeping deeply. But when William warned him about the cops, Jack woke up immediately. Strangely, there was something in William’s voice when he sounded the alarm that seemed vaguely familiar to Jack. “Damn,” Jack thought. “I’ve got it.  I recall that voice” But there was no time to ponder this, with half a dozen pistols pointing at the car.
“What the hell is this all about?” Jack asked aloud, beginning to roll down his window.
“Get your hands up,” the officer closest to the driver’s side of William’s rental. “I want to see both hands—in the air. Get ‘em up, I said. And get the hell out of the car.”
Jack had lowered the window about four inches when an officer on his side of the car began yelling at him. The officer shouting orders at Jack was a uniformed officer. In fact, he was one of about ten or eleven uniforms that Jack spotted.
Jack sized up the situation, and determined that the man pointing the gun at him meant what he was saying. Jack rested both hands on the dash, as the cop who had yelled at him opened the car door, and dragged him to the ground. But that’s when it all got strange.
Just as Jack hit the ground there was suddenly a barrage of gunfire, all directed at William. Jack did not know what was going down, because there were two officers lying on top of him.
He tried to count the rounds being fired, but it was impossible. As near as Jack could tell all the fire was from relatively close range. Glass and warm human tissue struck him on the face as he lie beside the car.
“Get the door open and drag him outta the car,” one man shouted from the other side of where William was sitting. “He’s still got a gun. He’s armed. Grab it and cuff him.” That was followed by some mumbling, and the sound of a car door being opened.
“I don’t give a flying fart if you think he’s dead,” the same man said. “Secure his weapon and cuff him.”
At first Jack was half expecting a bullet to the back of his head. But the way the officers were holding him to the concrete seemed strange to him. No one had attempted to cuff him, or even to pat him down. It was more like they were trying to protect him.
It was then that Jack heard a familiar voice. “It’s all secure, you can let him up now.”
Jack welcomed that sentiment, because the second officer who was pinning him down must have weighed 250 pounds.
Slowly the two officers stood to their feet, and the officer who had initially dragged Jack out of the car reached down to help him to his feet.
“Hey, Buddy,” he said to Jack. “Hope you understand why we did that to you.”
“I sure as hell don’t,” Jack retorted, looking up at Roger. “But I’ll bet this fellow can explain it to me. He probably even ordered you to toss me down.”