Hub City, State of Canton, 1979:
Relief mixed with general exhaustion as Carter finally made his way through the airport. A ten hour flight on the soonest plane away from London had hardly been ideal. He stifled a yawn as he went through the terminal, suitcase very light in hand. It was all he had on him really. Morash had made it very clear that when he said Carter only had three hours to leave the country, he meant three hours.
His current clothes, the clothes and other odds and ends in his suitcase, a passport and £200 in his wallet made up pretty much all of his worldly possessions right now. Everything else had been abandoned in London when he'd been given his marching orders, or he'd spent to get here.
And what a welcome it was. Carter felt his shoes stick to the floor of the terminal floor, the place looked run down and ill cared for. No one spared him a glance as he walked by, not a single smile was to be seen. When the doors to the outside opened, a blast of artic-like wind went through Carter like a knife, making him shiver. Whole place was dark, cold and utterly miserable.
He was starting to get homesick already.
Carter paused as he came to the middle of the terminal, thinking over his options. What did he need right now? Shelter and work were the first things to come to mind. America was the land of opportunity, right? Keep his head down, fall in with a local crew and keep one step ahead of immigration was the plan. Going back to Britain was a death sentence while Morash drew breath and that bastard would make sure to live to a hundred just to spite Carter.
First thing's first, he had to get a hold of some local money. Everything except for the main desk was closed. Even if it was half three in the morning, he found it hard to believe they'd just close like that and he needed that money now. Looking to the outside, Carter saw few people around. Mostly just those waiting for taxis or getting a very early morning flight. Few people, few witnesses.
Carter almost smiled. Been a while since he'd done a mugging, was almost nostalgic.
Heading towards the entrance to the terminal, Carter opened his suitcase, sliding his hand in and easily finding the brass knuckles. With them around his fingers he felt at ease when he stepped out of the terminal, quickly regretting it as the wind blew a chill right through him. Gritting his teeth and doing his best to ignore the cold, he looked around and spotted a man wearing a thick, dark coat. He brought his wrist up to look at his watch at the way it glittered in the light coming from the lights around the terminal made Carter nod. Good target.
Approaching the man, Carter felt confident about things, taking in how much smaller he was. Carter pushed just past six foot and made sure to keep up with his old boxing lessons, making him broad as well. He knew his current suit and coat wouldn't do him much good for a fight, but he wouldn't need to do much, by the looks of things.
As he approached the man, a black car pulled up to him. Looking at the vehicle, Carter recognised it as one of those new Sentinel models. Four door sedan type. The man must have some money on him to go for one of them, which raised Carter's hopes further.
"About damn time." He said, glaring at the usher who got out meekly "I've been waiting five minutes for this. You think it's funny, making we wait, you little shit?"
"There is a line of other cars-" The usher started, only to be cut off.
"I don't want your damn excuses. I'm going to speak to your manager and... what the Hell do you want?"
If Carter was the sort of person to have any hesitation over what he was about to do, it would have vanished by now. If anything, he was going to enjoy himself "Got the time, mate?"
"Fuck off, Limey." The man said, puffing himself up to his full height, just about reaching Carter's chin "My family came here from Ireland, you know what that means?"
"If they were anything like my grandad, they went to Tottenham, fucked me gran and got a job as a bricklayer." Carter responded.
"...What?"
Cutting to the chase, Carter clenched his fists and drove it right into the man's stomach, making him let out a pained grunt as he had no breath to scream. The main crumpled to the floor, wheezing and offering no resistance as Carter went through his pockets, pulling out a nice, thick, wallet. He wasn't sure of local prices, but he imagined the amount in there would give him at least a week to think and mull over his options without having to worry about finances.
Looking to the side, Carter saw the usher, staring at the scene wide eyed "You want to give him a kick?" Carter asked "Could always say it was me."
For a moment, the usher looked rather conflicted. The man was still groaning on the ground, curled up and unable to register anything outside of the pain "I'd love to, but there's the police."
"I ain't gonna grass you in. No one's gonna know."
"No, I mean... the police." The usher said, pointing over Carter's shoulder.
Following the usher's finger, Carter glanced over his shoulder and saw two approaching policemen, having already removed the batons from their belts. They'd been obscured from the lights and standing behind a car some distance away. Carter grimaced, placing the blame on not seeing them on the jet lag.
Needing a way out and quickly, Carter looked to the usher and saw he still had the car keys in his hand. Swiping them before the young man could react, Carter then shoved him to the ground as he dove into the car, throwing the suitcase to the back seats. He heard the shouts of the police as he slammed the door shut and shoved the key in, getting ready to drive.
"... The fuck's the manual?!" He burst out, looking down and not seeing the gear stick he was used to, but an ugly looking fat thing that seemed to stop next to some letters. With a sudden realisation, Carter realised he was looking at one of those automatic transmission cars, something he hadn't come across apart from the odd occasion when he'd stolen car radios in the richer parts of London.
Trying to remember how they worked when Carter could see the police getting closer towards the car was the work of a moment, eventually shoving the stick down to where 'D' was and pressing down on the acceleration. He was rewarded with the car shooting forward, letting out a laugh as he left the policemen rushing back to their own car. He was confident that he would be long gone by then though.
Leaving the terminal behind him, Carter shot out onto the road in front of the airport, eager to make a quick getaway when he launched into another problem, this one being several cars driving directly towards him. Letting out a series of choked curses, Carter pulled hard the driving wheel as he narrowly avoided the first of the cars by going onto the next lane.
"Wrong side of the road, arseholes!" Carter shouted out, adrenaline making him forget some basic facts.
An attempt to get back on the left side of the road was successful, but Carter then saw a rapidly approaching car heading towards him. Yanking the wheel to the side once more as he hit the brakes, the memory that Americans drove on the opposite side of the road finally registered. Letting out more curse words as he heard the sounds of a police siren quickly approaching, Carter hissed and started up the car as he needed to get away.
Getting onto the right side of the road felt off, but Carter had to get used to it as he pressed down the acceleration as the police car got in close. Heading west, Carter could see the buildings and lights of Hub City get closer. He didn't really have many options besides trying to find a way to lose the police in the city right now, a tall order considering he knew damn all about the city's layout. On the other hand, he always had been lucky, he might find a way out of this.
Thankfully, the road didn't have too many cars on it due to the time, but he still had to move from one side of the road to the other to avoid the few that were around. The police were right behind him on that front, showing no signs of pulling back despite several of the passed cars swerving in shock at seeing Carter blast past them so quickly.
By now, the streets of Hub City were fast approaching, as was a second police car as it barrelled down from another road to the north. Sirens behind him and to the side, Carter pushed forward into a wide avenue of the city proper, the police cars in hot pursuit. The lampposts on either side of the street whizzed past as Carter pushed the engine hard, looking for any kind of way to escape. Seeing a side street, Carter yanked the wheel to the side, hearing the wheels screech against the road surface.
Recovering from the swerve quickly, Carter sped along the road, hearing the police follow his path, although they lost precious seconds as they had less control over their swerves and had to right themselves. It gave Carter more breathing room, but he realised that he'd have to lose them soon, or get even more police on his back.
The chance came with an approaching alley and Carter made a very tight turn to get in, seeing that it came out the other end of one end of the street. It was a hard fit, the car sending up sparks as the sides scraped along the brickwork as he sped down the thin passageway. Paintwork was officially fucked at any rate.
Coming out of the alley, Carter did another sharp turn, bringing the car to a brief pause as he glanced down the alley, seeing one of the police cars attempt to make the same break through it, only to come in at too much of an angle and then smash into the side. This was added to when the second police car, evidently driven by someone who hadn't been patient enough to wait to see if the first car made it through, crashed into the back of the first.
Smirking, Carter started the car up again and sped away down the streets. First order of business was finding somewhere to dump the car and get away unnoticed. Should be somewhere he could leave it and let someone else take it off his hands. As he drove further into the city, Carter switched on the radio, reasoning that he could at least enjoy the sounds before being forced to abandon his prize.
"... the body discovered in the Eustis Project was found to be that of Francesca Primrose, a thirty-one year old whose corpse was found dismembered in a plastic bag. Police have called for witnesses for this unprecedented murder in the city."
"I believe you will find that there were others, Jane. Ten other women were found murdered in similar circumstances over the last four months."
"Yes, Dan, but Francesca Primrose was the only white victim, which means our station can now officially consider it a problem."
Carter grabbed the dial on the radio and turned it, deciding some music would be cheerier.
