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Mitch stared bleary-eyed into his computer screen, as Joe looked over his shoulder impatiently. “Isn’t there some faster way to decode the files?” he asked. Joe was a world-class detective but knew nothing about technology. “It’s called decrypting, not decoding,” Mitch said wearily. “And it takes time. The people who created these files really, really did not want anyone to see them.” “Of course not,” Joe said. “If my source is right, these files will nail that bastard Carrington to the wall.” Lamar Carrington was something of an obsession with Joe. While Joe was on the police force, he had nearly busted Carrington a dozen times on charges of extortion, money laundering and murder, but he had never been able to get enough evidence to secure a conviction. After his retirement, Joe considered it a personal mission to bring Carrington down. And these damn computer files were the key. Joe was Mitch’s friend as well as his boss, and he wanted to help him. But he was exhausted. He had been up for hours trying to get through the encryption on the files. Absent-mindedly, he started humming “Dust in the Wind,” a nervous habit that he had developed as a teenager. “If you’re going to do that, at least learn a new song,” Joe sXXXXped. Mitch stopped abruptly. “Sorry to bite your head off,” Joe added. “I’m just frustrated.” “We’re both tired,” Mitch said. “Why don’t you go home and get some XXXX? I’ll call you if I make any progress.” After a token bit of protest, Joe agreed and went home. Mitch decided to work a few more minutes, which turned into a few more hours. Before he knew it, he had cracked the encryption. Elated, he grabbed his cell phone and punched Joe’s number. “Great news, Joe, I figured it out,” he said. “Go back to XXXX, the file should be completely decrypted by morning.” Very pleased with himself, Mitch fell aXXXX in his chair. When he woke up a short time later, he found himself face to face with one of Carrington’s hired goons, pointing a XXXX at him. “You should stay out of other people’s business,” the goon growled, raising the XXXX. Mitch ducked instinctively, but the XXXX was not aimed at him. It fired into his computer, blowing the hard drive to bits. The terminal sputtered, and the painstakingly decrypted files blinked out of existence. The goon brought the XXXX down on the back of Mitch’s head, and everything went black. Mitch woke up slowly, remembering that he was in deep trouble. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light, and he saw the familiar, malevolent face of Lamar Carrington. He grunted into the bandanna gagging his mouth and pulled against the ropes binding his wrists and ankles. “Hello, Mitch,” Carrington said. “I must say, it’s a relief that we don’t have to tap your cell phone any more. You lead a staggeringly dull life. How can a grown man have so many conversations about “Doctor Who”?” Mitch groaned into his gag. They had heard him tell Joe about the decryption. And now the files were lost forever. “Capturing you lets me kill two birds with one stone, so to speak,” Carrington said. “Without you, that oaf won’t be able to pry into any more of my computer files. And if he tries, I now have the perfect hostage. In a few hours, my private jet is going to take you to one of my safehouses in the Caribbean. You’ll be well cared for, as long as Joe Newton stays out of my affairs.” His eyes flashing with anger, Mitch rolled over, kicking at Carrington. The older man dodged him easily and placed a foot on his neck. “Don’t make such a fuss,” he said. “You’ll be very popular down there. Several of the guards have a taste for young men. Really, if your cell phone conversations are any indication, you’ll have a much richer social life down there than you have here.” Carrington chuckled as he left, enjoying Mitch’s evident panic. Being a boy toy for his thugs did not seem to appeal to him. That would teach people to meddle in his business. Mitch struggled against the ropes, desperately trying to loosen the knots. He could not believe he had been so stupid – revealing sensitive information on a cell phone. A cell phone! Why not just rent a billboard? Then he realized something, He still had his cell phone. He struggled to his knees and let the phone fall out of his shirt pocket. Twisting around, he managed to flip the phone open. That was the easy part. Making a phone call while bound and gagged was going to be a bigger challenge. He had heard of “hands-free” cell phones, but this was a bit much. Fortunately Joe was the last person he called, so he could just punch the redial button. Joe answered XXXXily. “Hello? Who is this?” Damn it, Mitch thought. If Joe had a cell phone like the rest of the civilized world, he would be able to tell who was calling him. Mitch tried to talk through the gag, hoping Joe would recognize the tone of his voice. “MMFFTT MMF!” Mitch grunted. “MMFFCH!” Who the hell is this?” Joe replied. “What do you want?” Suddenly Mitch had an idea. He started humming “Dust in the Wind,” the same way he had a hundred times around Joe. “Mitch?” Joe said. “Is that you?” “MMMM HMMMM!” Mitch intoned. “What’s wrong? Are you in trouble?” ““MMMM HMMMM!” Mitch replied. “You can’t talk, but you can still grunt. Try using Morse code.” Mitch wasn’t sure he had time to say “Carrington is shipping me off to the Caribbean to be a sex slave” in Morse code, but he figured the first word would convey the message. As soon as he had finished spelling it out, Joe knew what was going on. “This time that bastard is going to pay,” Joe said. “Hang on, Mitch, help is on the way.” Mitch waited for what seemed like hours. He could only hope that Joe got there before he was packed off to God knows where. Then Carrington entered the room, flanked by two of his seemingly endless supply of hired goons. Mitch recognized the one who had fragged his computer and clonked him on the head. Mitch could forgive the bludgeoning, but he really resented losing a perfectly good computer. “Get him ready for shipping,” Carrington barked. The two goons hoisted Mitch up and lowered him into a wooden crate. They added some duct tape around his mouth, reinforcing the bandanna and ensuring he would stay completely silent during the trip. Then they placed the lid on the box and began nailing it shut. After the last nail had been hammered into the lid, Mitch felt the box being lifted. Then, just as he had given up hope of rescue, he heard Joe’s voice. “Freeze, all of you,” Joe shouted. “You’re under arrest.” He had brought what looked like half of the police force to raid Carrington’s house. Two uniformed officers opened the crate with a crowbar and lifted Mitch out. Mitch winced as the duct tape was pulled off his face, but it was a small price to pay for his freedom. “I thought I was a goner,” Mitch said. “You really like to make a dramatic entrance.” “Sorry for cutting it so close,” Joe said. “I had to wake up a judge and get an emergency warrant. Carrington’s not going to get out on a technicality this time. Aggravated assault, XXXX, conspiracy – he’s going away for life.” Joe put his arm around Mitch’s shoulder. “Let’s get you home, kid” Joe said. “You’ve had a long night.”
End

Mitch played by Himself

Photography by Caitiff

Date of Production: 11/15/2007

tags: bare foot, story, cleave gag