The Fugitive's Ultimatum

Chapter 1: 

"Any sign of him yet, Barnes? Our informant said he'd be here about 19:30," asks Bryan Pierce, the lead Deputy US Marshal out of New York City, over their radio frequency. Pierce is 6'3", 44 and very well built for his age, especially considering he easily benches 325 lbs. Pierce saw combat with the Navy SEALs during the Invasions of Grenada in 1983 and Panama in 1989-90, and the Iran-Iraq War in 1984-88; and soon after the Panama Invasion, he retired from the SEALs and joined the U.S. Marshal Service in 1992. Pierce and his warrant squad of four deputy marshals have been staking out a motel in downtown Queens waiting for the arrival of the most notorious drug lord of New York City: Eduardo Juarez. He has been in the drug dealing business for over a decade. And surprisingly, he has never been caught, though there are warrants out for his arrest for homicide, arson, smuggling and assault. 

"Not yet, boss. We've been in this van for ten hours, when can we take a break, or switch positions?" 

"Kent, we've been over this: no one can switch positions, because, for one, it may give away our position. Is that clear?" says Pierce sternly. Kent Barnes is a recent graduate from Harvard Law where he studied criminal justice and the history of illegal drug dealing. He's 5'11", 31, and was a Highland Rugby player in his high school years, and helped to take home two championship trophies in 1998 and 1999. 

"Ugh, fine. I'll stay, but Michael and I are out of food..." Bryan looks at Jordan Buchanan, a member of his warrant squad, and rolls his eyes. Jordan is 39, 5'10", brunette, and eyes as blue as the sea. She chuckles, and radios the second-in-command of the warrant squad, Tyler Callen, for another look. Callen is 6', 42, a sniper/former team commander of a Marine Recon team, the special ops battalion for the Marine Corps, and always sports a buzz cut. "How's the view up there, Ty? And remember he drives a gold Porsche," says Jordan. 

"Jordan, I don't need your nagging; especially since I outrank you here. And surprisingly, the view from these power lines are quite nice," says Tyler. 

"No need to pull rank here, Ty. We all feel the same way about this stakeout." 

"Ty, I'm glad you're having a great time with the view, but I need you to pull your head out of your rear and get focused," says Pierce with a little annoyance. 

"Roger that, boss. Shutting up now," says Ty, ending the transmission. 

Ring-Ring! Ring-ring! "Uhh, Jordan, isn't that your phone? And I thought you got rid of that annoying Nokia tone," asked Pierce. 

"Yeah, it is. I thought it was on silent. And the ringtone, I just haven't really had time because of the wedding," she says. She picks it up from the center console of Pierce's personal dark blue Dodge Challenger SRT, and reads the caller ID. "Oh, great, it's my sister. Should I answer it?" 

"No, you shouldn't. Remember my rule #11? No personal calls on stakeouts or operations. And besides, she's probably just calling to ask about the wedding cake or something like that, Jordan. Just ignore it, and text her saying you'll call her back later," Pierce says, grabbing her tensed hand and massaging it, making it relax. 

"Bryan, are you sure we aren't moving too fast with this? I mean the wedding. It's only been a month since our engagement..." 

"I don't think so. Jordan, I love you. I think we're going at just the right speed. In just a few weeks, we will be saying our vows and we will be married. It'll all work out, I promise," Pierce says softly. "It'll be just fine; don't worry about a thing, okay?"

"Okay, okay. Just breathe, Jordan, just breathe," she says, as he leans in and kisses her lips. 

"You know, Bryan, as entertaining as it is to watch you two kiss, I thought you should know that the target vehicle is approaching, 300 yards and closing fast. The Porsche is boxed in by two black Hummers, probably armored," interrupts Deputy US Marshal Michael Gutierrez. Michael emigrated from Mexico in the mid-70s as a young child, graduated from Texas A&M, and has been with the U.S. Marshals since. He is 5'7", 39, and looks as if he can bench 300-350lbs.