"Gravity Gets Me Down'

"Gravity Gets Me Down"

5/11-5/13/2023

I.

At two-thirty in the morning, a gleaming black Hyundai Tucson pulled into the parking lot of a 24-hour laundromat on the outskirts of Jericho, New Jersey. There were only two other vehicles in sight, both near the propped-open doors from which a fan of yellow light streamed. The SUV parked well off to one side, from which it could not easily be seen from inside of the laundromat. Squeezing out of the driver's side door, a huge beefy man in rough work clothing rose up and stood motionless, listening and almost sniffing the air for signs of danger. He kept one hand on the butt of the Glock 19 sticking up out of his belt on the right side.

Finally, the gunman said in a low raspy voice, "I know you gotta be out there, Bane. Come on. Let's get this over with."

In complete silence, a lean dark form dropped down off the roof of the laundromat, landing on fingers and toes and immediately straightening up. In his black clothing, the Dire Wolf was hard to spot at night. "This shouldn't take long, Fischetti, let's get it over with."

"You made me jump outta my skin, hopping down outta nowhere like that. Where's your car, anyway?"

"Never mind that. I've got the payment, you've got the prisoner, let's trade and be on our ways." Seen close up, Jeremy Bane was revealed to be exactly six feet tall, lean to the point of seeing gaunt as greyhound. Under the short black hair, two pale grey eyes moved constantly to watch for trouble. The Dire Wolf tapped one hand up against the front of his sport jacket.

"Yeah, sure. I'm not thrilled at lugging this monster all over the state anyway." Opening up the rear door, Fischetti reached in with both hands and helped the man in the back out to stand up. Since he had his hands cuffed behind him and his ankles shackled with enough slack to let him hobble, the prisoner would have had trouble getting out by himself. He was about the same size and build as Bane, also dressed in black clothing but white duct tape obscured the lower part of his face.

"Here he is, Bane. Chung Lam-Ying, and a good fight he put up before I got him in bracelets. I don't think he's too happy with either one of us."

Moving closer, the Dire Wolf inspected the glaring man. "That's Chung, all right. He's got that mole at the corner of his right eyebrow. And I know you don't pull switches or cons, Fischetti."

"You got to be honest when you live outside the law. Being an unlicensed bounty hunter means you need a good reputation."

Bane drew out a thick business envelope and handed it over.

"You understand, I haveta at least look at it," Fischetti said. "I'm not going to count it."

"That doesn't hurt my feelings," Bane said. "Count it if you like." He had moved over next to Chung and placed a hand on the bound Chinese man's shoulder.

"Looks good, looks good. Pleasure doing business with you, Mr Dire Wolf." Fischetti turned to open the driver's door again. "So, going after the Spinner of Webs, huh?"

Bane did not answer the question, but placed a stern hand high up on his prisoner's back to start steering him. As the SUV started up, he said, "Stay safe, Tom."

"What, in my line of work?" laughed the tracker, backing up and pulling out onto the deserted side street.

Getting Chung over by the back wall of the laundromat so any passing motorist wouldn't spot them, the Dire Wolf took a second to make sure his prisoner's nose was unobstructed and he could breathe freely. Chung had started making agitated noises through the duct tape over his mouth.

"Save it," Bane snapped. "Once you're secured in headquarters, you'll get a chance to talk plenty." His peripheral vision caught something moving overhead, unlikely as that might seem and he dropped into a crouch with his left hand blurring up from behind his back. The long-barrelled Smith & Wesson revolver pointed up. Open to dealing with any sort of attack, even Bane was taken by surprise. Somehow, with nothing visible causing it, he was yanked violently down to the asphalt so his face smacked its rough surface. That impact would have dazed or possibly killed a normal person.

He couldn't get up. Why? What was going on? Bane never felt fear or panic, only a cold determination to fight back. His entire body, his arms and legs and head, were being pressed down flat. No. That wasn't it, he was actually being pulled down because he could feel the force more strongly on his front. This made no sense. The gun was crushing his left hand but he couldn't do anything about it. What was holding him? How could he escape this irresistable grasp?

Nearby, Chung was evidently trying to yell. It sounded like his head was still five feet off the ground, so he wasn't being affected by whatever the effect was. Then Bane heard a very soft tap on the ground. From right next to him, a man made a tsk-tsk sound.

"Drat, of all the people I DIDN'T want to run into, you've got to be number one. Hang on, Chung, I'll get to you in a second. Listen. You're Bane, right? The Dire Wolf? I don't want bad blood between us. I'm getting paid to return this guy to his employer, that's all. As crooks go, I'm just a working stiff. I don't kill, I don't run dope, I don't hurt innocent people. I just transport and maybe steal a few valuable items."

Managing to draw in a full breath, Bane said in a deadly calm voice, "Let me up."

"Yeah, I don't think so. I heard all about you. Anyway, I've got to get going now. You've got bigger game to bag, Mr Bane. Let's pretend this never happened."

There was a whoosh and a faint breeze went by. Still trying furiously to rise, Banr abruptly felt himself released and actually threw himself over onto his back with a second bruising thump. He vaulted up onto his feet, revolver swinging as he whirled around. No one was in sight. No car lights speeding away, no sound of footsteps on the streets. Even if that mysterious speaker had brought a helper, two men couldn't have carried off Chung so quickly. But he stood alone in the night.

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