Please by Lopaka Tanu

Martin laid there for what felt like days, but in reality was probably only a full turn of the clock. In that time he had learned to count the dots upon the ceiling tiles without tallying the same one twice. If there was a reason for it, he still couldn't quite bring himself to care. There were some things in life that one didn't question, him knowing how to do this was one.

He was on dot two-hundred-sixty-eight-thousand-nine-hundred-twelve when the door to his room opened. Unlike before, she was now accompanied by several men, a nurse, and an orderly pushing a wheelchair. The agents set about gathering the belongings from the drawers and the closet at the far side of the room.

Walking to the side of Martin's bed, the nurse capped the IV line on his arm. On the other side, the orderly stopped the wheel chair and sat the bed up. Together, they worked fast to unhook him from the equipment strip him.

Above it all, Martin saw Charlotte, or whatever her real name was, checking her handheld. It looked like the new blackberry, but was hard to see. A firm hand on his cock was all the warning he had before the catheter was removed. Biting his lip, he forced the pain away. "What the hell is going on here?"

"The dealer, Zikorski, he's dead, along with his entire escort. Deiscatta's extermination squad found him this morning." Clicking off her handheld, Charlotte slipped it in her pocket. Meeting Martin's gaze, she ran a hand through her hair. "There's not much time, we think they know someone else is on to him. Until we know how they found out, you're not safe here!"

"Wait a minute!" Martin tried to get free of the orderly and nurse, but they were too deft for him. They quickly slipped his gown from his body and a shirt over his head. When he could see again, he glared at Charlotte. "You people kidnap me and now tell me my life is in danger?"

"We don't have time for this!" With a quick jerk of her head, Charlotte sent the men with his bags out of the room. "The safest place for you to be is in the wind. The new life we were setting up for you has most likely been compromised. They don't know about your identity, or me, so I'm going with you."

By the time she had finished speaking, Martin was transferred to a pair of pants and then in to the wheel chair. Scowling at being manhandled by two strangers, he allowed them to take control. Still, he had a bone to pick with Charlotte. "You people did this to me! Because you assumed, I've got a hit out on me!"

"That was the DEA, but it won't matter if we don't get this show on the road." Clutching her purse, she led the way through an empty corridor to an elevator. The door was already open by the time they made it there. Reaching in to the bag, she didn't show them what she held, but the clicking sound made it obvious.

As he was backed in to the elevator, Martin refused to let the fear he was currently feeling show on his face. The nurse was at his side, checking his vitals with a blood pressure cuff. Taking a deep breath, he remembered that you were supposed to remain calm during the test. When the doors closed, he did the same with his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time they pulled over for gas, Martin was too dazed to notice much. There were people about, but the dark glasses prevented him from really seeing them. It didn't matter. All he had been able to think about for the past ten hours was Danny. Some how, he figured the man would have thought this entire thing funny.

Well except the him being dead part.

The Marshall was busy at the pump, her credit card solving any reservations he might have felt about being alone. Not that he wanted her any where near him. They could all go straight to hell for bungling this one. How in the hell had he gone from being happy with his partner to being legally dead and on the run?

One big fucking mistake after another, that was the whole thing in a nutshell. Who in their right mind declared a federal agent dead without even checking with his boss to ensure he was in fact doing what they thought? Had they even contacted Jack or did they just move? It was one of those things he occasionally kicked around but couldn't bring himself to give voice.

It didn't really matter, he supposed. They had done it, and because of that, he was now in mortal danger. He had heard of some really stupid, bonehead government mistakes in his life time, but this one took the cake. But it was too late to care or do anything about.

Movement at the window got his attention.

Charlotte tapped her fingers against the glass twice, suggesting she was going to the station and wouldn't be five minutes.

Martin barely nodded. When she seemed satisfied, he faced forward. Not that it really mattered any more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The room wasn't clean enough to qualify for EPA standards, but the roaches didn't seem to mind. Still, it was a welcome respite from the constant driving. Martin hadn't realized how much pain he was still in until he had tried to climb out of the car. All he could think was thank god Danny hadn't been there to see him fall on his ass.

That had been the end of any thinking for a while.

Now, he sat at the foot of a bed, staring off in to space. He could hear the television in the far corner from Charlotte watching the news. Whatever she was waiting for wasn't coming on and she was about to start pacing again. It would be the third time in the past half hour.

Once upon a time, that would have bothered Martin. He was the pacer type, D... someone else usually was yelling at him for it. There wouldn't be that happening again, at least. He could pace all he wanted and no one tell him to stop or distract him from what had been bothering him. It would be a great stress reliever.

Sniffing, Martin reached up and wiped the moisture from his face. It must have been hot in the room.

Charlotte was back to staring at the television intently. With the stance of her hand on the holster she had taken to wearing, she displayed her mounting frustration. After another news story about some stupid kids getting run while jaywalking, she blew up.

Martin watched as she slapped the remote down on the television's top. It might have caused his heart to start beating faster for a second, but that was quickly gone.

"Fuck this, I'm going to take a shower! If they play something about a man named Andreus, turn the volume up and pay attention." Reaching up as she crossed the room to the small bathroom door, she tugged at her blonde hair. With a sigh of relief, it came away in her hand, revealing a stocking covering her true hair. Charlotte shut the door behind her, leaving Martin to stare at the television alone.

For several seconds, Martin watched the news anchor bounce from one topic to another without ever really saying anything. After a time, he tuned out the perky woman. Closing his eyes, he slid up the bed until he was in the center. Once there, he curled up and pulled the blankets over him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Martin wasn't sure how long he had been out of it. When he came around they were already back on the road. The feel of his clothes said that he had changed at some point. Where he should have felt alarmed, there was still only the void of nothingness.

More out of something to do than curiosity, he glanced out the windows. They were in an area of flat wasteland. There were the occasional scrub bushes and cacti, but for the most part it was desert. He found himself drawn to the reds and oranges of the land. For some reason, he wanted to touch them.

It was all quite beautiful in a distant way. Every time he tried to focus on something, it would zip by faster than he could presently track. This left him moving his eyes quickly over the landscape. Martin's mind began to wander, creating scenarios of what happened there.

In his mind's eye, he could see a great flying saucer landing. Tiny aliens would come rushing up from the ground because he was no longer on Earth, but observing the surface of Mars. They weren't really aliens either, because this was their home world and he was the outsider.

Martin had time to ponder whether he was on some medication before he was taken in by another illusion. This time, he was a tiny white rabbit and the world was made up of sherbet ice cream. The bottle blonde beside him controlling their vehicle was in a blue dress and white trimmings. In the distance, he could hear some fat bitch shelling out hearts.

He wished she would shut up. No one needed a heart any more. Why have one when it could so easily be crushed? No, it was better to replace your heart with a fuel pump from a ninety-four mustang convertible. You could get one from Dan's gas and garage on highway Clover Field at the corner of Keystone and Meridian.

Watching Martin's dilated eyes as he stared in rapt fascination at the radio, Charlotte took the bottle of pills from the console's cup holder and stuffed them in to her pocket.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the world started to make sense again, Martin realized it wasn't a massive pickle trying to eat his hair. Someone was actually cutting it off. With a resigned sigh, he tried to raise his hands. The restraints he thought he felt were very real. Apparently they weren't taking any chances.

A shiver ran down his spine. Clearing his throat, he coughed a couple times. He had to stop waking up from a stupor. Blinking, he found that he was in a motel room again. "Where are we?" His voice was hazed from lack of use.

"So, you are awake, about time." Charlotte's voice was muffled by something in her mouth. Tugging on his hair, she continued to run the scissors through it, cutting it to the quick. "We're about an hour out of Pueblo, Colorado. Marshall Tucker is out getting dinner, I hope you like Chinese."

"Marshall Tucker?" Snickering, Martin tried to look about the room, but Charlotte's hands kept his head steady. With a sigh, he decided to use his eyes instead. There was a bag on the second bed that he didn't recognize. "When did we meet up with Marshall Tucker?"

"Two days ago." Pushing the last of his hair off his head, she ran a dry cloth down the back of his neck. "I hope you enjoyed your little vacation from reality. I've flushed the rest of your pills."

"So, that's what that was. I thought I had finally lost my mind." And it was true. It had been a pleasant experience. He could understand why some people chose to go that way now. Much to his horror, he heard a familiar rushing sound. "Is that what I think it is?"

Slapping her hand palm down over the top of his head, she rubbed it on thick. "If by that you mean shaving lather, then yes." Quickly, she spread it over the top of his head, behind his ears, at his temples, and on the back of his neck. "It helps make shaving you bald easier."

"Is this part of my new secret identity or are you just being mean?" Martin snorted. If this kept up, he might actually start feeling human again.

"Can't it be both." She move a hand to the front of his face. Clutched in her palm was a safety razor. "I'm not sure if this is your brand, but it's the type I use on my legs. Trust me, you'll feel so smooth and sexy no horny man will be able to keep his hands off your head."

"Oh joy. It's always been my life's ambition to be irresistible to perverts." As he spoke, the first stroke of the blade slid over his scalp. It made a scratching sound as it removed the very last bits of his hair. "Tell me something, since my arms don't feel sore from tattoos, what exactly are you doing this for?"

"Wonderful question." Pulling the razor away from his scalp with another head full of hair and shaving foam, she rinsed it in the basin of hot water. "Ever known someone who has cancer? We'll, you do now."

Freezing, Martin felt his heart nearly jump from his chest. "That's not funny."

"No, I suppose not." Shifting to the side, she picked up something from the table. She had to stretch out to hand it to him. "Have a look."

"What have you done to me?" Martin accepted the hand mirror with shaking fingers. Closing his eyes, he raised it so his face would be reflected in it. Taking a steadying breath, he opened them again. His features were waxen and pale. Dark circles surrounded his tired eyes. He long to reach up and touch them, but the restraints held him back. "I look like... Why?"

"It was Tucker's idea. Though, by the time he saw you, it was an obvious plan." Pushing aside his ear, she scraped the blade against his scalp. "With the combination of drugs, lack of sleep, and trauma, you've polished off the look quite nicely on your own. It keeps people from asking questions and only rude people and children will stare."

Without his hair, his ears stuck out against the backdrop of his smooth head. Martin tried not to shudder, but the similarities were just too great. "How long until I'm healthy looking again?"

"With the combination of recuperation, your new prescription, and some actual sleep..." She trailed off, dropping the razor in to the basin. Taking a hot rag from another basin, she ran it over the top of his scalp. When that was done, she put it aside and picked up a bottle. "Grit your teeth, this is gonna sting." Then she applied it to his scalp.

Spots shown before his eyes as his vision blurred. Tears ran down his face as Martin groaned from the stinging pain. Days of being numb had taken away his tolerance and it felt like his scalp was on fire.

Patting his head dry with another hand towel, Charlotte tried to be gentle. "The doctor the agency sent over said it will be a couple weeks before you're up and about again. Until then, you'll need assistance, that's why Marshall Tucker is here. You'd know all this if you bothered to stay awake."

Martin sucked air through his teeth. Keeping his eyes closed, he shook his head free of her grip.

Seeing that Martin wasn't going to be responsive for a while, she scowled at him. There was nothing better to do, so she moved about cleaning up after their impromptu shaving. Just to be peevish, she left him strapped to the motel's desk chair.