Not So Quiet Collar

July 14 2014: Marshal Thomas Nashoba runs into a young lady in M-Town under… slightly awkward circumstances

M-Town Streets

A fairly crowded business district with a lot of foot traffic. The kind of place that makes chases sort of inconvenient.



  • William Vicks - Fugitive

Mood Music:
[* None]

Walking down the street, Cricket has her nose in a day planner. She runs along the text with a finger and stops, looking at the addresses of the buildings. She looks over to the street signs then and frowns. "Well, add that to the list of things I don't remember. I have no idea where in this city I am now. Wonderful."

She's dressed nicely, a floral summer dress and a straw hat, with wedge roman sandals. Perhaps a little too high end for M-Town, but then again, there are all kinds here.


About a block away a young native American man with country casual sensibilities in dress and a big black dog trotting at his side is tailing a large, green man who is not so much walking as he is wading through the crowd. He's got to be a solid seven feet and closing in on three hundred pounds. He sticks out even here, though more for his height than his coloration. This is, after all, M-Town.

"Fugitive in sight." Thomas murmurs into an open cell connection. "Going to look for a good place to bring him in without a fuss."


Looking down at the day planner again, Cricket gets out her cell phone. No reason to be lost when one has Google Maps. Okay, actually, sometimes that is *more* reason to be lost. She types where she wants to go with one thumb, clearly of the texting generation with how fast she's able to move that one digit over the screen.

Big green guy? Yeah, a little too caught up in herself to notice him, actually.


Thomas prefers 'no fuss no muss' collars. Especially here in M-Town where there's a certain segment of the population that will always react negatively to law enforcement no matter what the situation. Sadly, today is not his day. The green guy is edgy and while Thomas isn't really putting out the "Johnny Longarm" vibe, it doesn't take but a moment for him to spook and start sprinting down the block.

"Sonofa. Subject fleeing. In pursuit. Get the other unit moving. Now!"

"William Vicks! Stop!" He calls out as the black dog bolts ahead. Most of the people on the street rush out of the way. Most of them. A few actually try to get in Thomas' way, but none manage to quite trip him up. Yet.


Yelling down the street causes Cricket to look up from her phone. Oh! Big green man running her way! A much smaller man, in comparison, and a dog chasing him. Cricket backs away, closer to the archway of the apartment building she is standing by. She's a Good Citizen tm. If this is some sort of police chase, it is her duty to let the officer pass.


William Vicks, since that's apparently his name, is looking frantically about for something as the dog closes in on him. Then, right in front of Cricket, the big black dog grabs his pant leg and twists him into tripping. A savage kick dislodges the dog for a moment and as Thomas comes running up, Vicks produces a large and ridiculously illegal knife and makes a grab at Cricket. Hostage situation 101.


Cricket backs away on dainty feet as the large man falls right in front of her. Well, this is more excitement then she was hoping for today. She looks over to see if the officer is close to apprehending the behemoth when he suddenly grabs her arm and pulls her in against his body with a knife to her throat, her hat, purse, day planner and phone all falling to the ground. Her eyes grow wide, staring at the large blade and trying to stay stock still. She then looks to the officer, her hazel eyes pleading for his assistance.


The Marshal has his gun out now and the dog is circling, growling from the side. The one good thing about this situation is that Cricket is really way too small to be used as a human shield.

"Drop the knife Vicks." The man says. "This'll go a lot easier if you come in quietly."

"Nothin' doin'." The large man growls in a thick Midwestern accent. "Mebbe I jus' keep the little lady for insurance for a bit. Put the gun down and walk away."

Honestly, does that ever work for anyone? Why do criminals insist on trying that? "Last warning, Vick."

"I'll cut her throat, Marshal. So help me I will."


//Analysis of situation. Violence eminent. Damage to Living Skin layer probable. Calculating threat and defensive measures necessary. //

Cricket is not at all aware of this secondary program running in her mind. All she knows is that when the Vicks man presses the knife to her throat, he is suddenly dropping it and cringing on the ground. She looks down and sees that she has a hold of something that the man likely holds very dear, holding it in a vice like grip.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! I don't know what came over me!" She backs away from Vicks, blushing as she wipes her hand on her dress.


The moment the knife is down both the dog and the Marshal are on him. He's too stunned by Cricket's handling of precious family heirlooms to offer much resistance as he's cuffed and a car blaring sirens in US Marshal's Service markings comes around the corner.

"William Vicks, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. You have an attorney present. If you waive the right to remain silent anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." He pauses as the car pulls up. "Now get in the car and don't give the nice Marshals any reason to talk to me later."

Leaning over to the window he sighs. "Take him in. There was a situation with the lady. I'll make sure she's okay and then be along, okay? Thanks."


The car pulls away and Thomas turns back to Cricket. "That was quick thinking there, ma'am. Nice work." He offers his hand out. "Thomas Nashoba, US Marshal's Service. Are you okay?"


Cricket is picking up her items, trying to dust herself off and compose herself. She looks to see if her phone is broken, which it thankfully isn't. When the Marshal introduces himself, she blushes.

"I'm fine. I … I think. I am not really sure what I did there. Well, I mean, I can see what I did, I just don't recall doing it. It happened so fast." She takes a deep breath and smiles at Thomas. "Do you need me to give a statement, officer?"


"Depends on if you intend to press charges. Assault and Battery, though that's not much on top of felony fleeing and two counts of Murder One in Wyoming. I was more interested in knowing if you need to go to the hospital or… see someone about what just happened." Knife to the throat, it's pretty harrowing.


Raising a hand to her throat, Cricket pulls it away to see that there is indeed a bit of blood there. Barely a scratch though, really.

"I doubt my charges would make a dent on the time he will already be serving, so really, all my pressing charges would do is make me feel better." She takes a deep breath and watches the police car, noting that the shocks in the back must be reinforced considering it's not sitting low though Vicks is so large. "To be honest, it all happened so fast that I think I should be alright. It's no worse than waking up with amnesia, at least."


"Waking up with amnesia, hrm?" Thomas pulls out a card and writes his name down on the back of it. "Sounds rough. Well here, take this. If you get any anxiousness or flashbacks or start to feel like you need to talk about it, give my office a call and myself or one of my Marshals will see that you get connected to someone who can help." The lawman gives her a tired smile as he sighs.

"This was supposed to be a clean collar. I'm sorry you got dragged into it."


Takes the offered business card, giving Thomas a winning smile. She tucks it into the day planner. "It was hardly your fault that he decided to take a hostage. Is your dog alright though?" She looks around for the animal, trying to reach out to pet it, pulling her hand away when she's growled at.

"Oh… I guess he doesn't like my perfume?" Her smile is a little forced, but she continues to be polite.

"Actually, it seems I've forgotten how to get around in New York, along with the rest of what I had forgotten. Could you direct me to this address?" she says while showing him the page she was studying in the day planner.


"Virgil, be nice."

The dog looks chastised and noses up to Cricket's hand in apology. Thomas steps closer and looks down at the day planner to see the address. He's not been in New York very long but he's driven around it a lot for work, so he has a better idea of what is where than many do.


Cricket decides she doesn't actually want to pet the dog, what with the previous growling. Not that she is aware of the fact that she doesn't smell human, she just doesn't want to risk being bitten. She instead focusses on the day planner. The address isn't too far off of where she is. "I'm trying to find some clues as to who I was. Or am."


"I see. Understandable. Well…" He leans in a bit closer. "This place isn't too far. Two blocks up and around the corner. I just passed it. Big sign, can't miss it." Thomas steps back and gives Cricket a polite nod. "I wish you luck ma'am. And again, call if there's any trouble related to this. You have a good day."

Thomas turns to head back to his own car, parked several blocks back. "Virgil. Heel." He whistles and off goes the big black dog before the two disappear into the crowd.

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