Acadia could hear the car running in what had to be a warehouse. It was a old BMW diesel and the sweet rumbling of the engine helped him get his bearings. He was about 25 feet from the bay door, which was open. The cool salt air from Portland harbor (Portland, Maine that is) rolled in to the large bay. Acadia could hear cars in the distance but was sure he was near the water. Probably on one of the piers. He was processing this information while the goons who had grabbed him at the airport (he was still trying to figure out how anyone even knew he was coming) dragged him into what he presumed was the back room. They always dragged him into the back room. Acadia sighed through the bag they had put over his head.
He was plopped into a chair which mercifully had a hard seat (that James Bond movie really freaked him out) and took the bag off. He was surprised to see…nobody he had ever seen in his life. Dude was wearing an apron. Acadia ran down the list of his enemies really quick to make sure he wasn’t missing anything:
- Signy Eriksdottir – Still in Dubai
- Hanlon the Foot – Prison
- Fat Margo – Retired, she tours schools outlining the common symptoms of diabetes
- Dr. Dale – A chiropractor who adjusted your FACE! He was still out there but Acadia hadn’t heard of him for a while.
“Who are you?” Acadia said. “And why do you wear that apron?”
“”Oh Mr. Einstein, my name is not important.” Dude was tall. Probably 6’5″. He looked slow, though. Acadia wasn’t that worried. But then the guy took some tongs out of his apron pocket. Tongs is a funny word but a scary implement.
“Look apron guy. I don’t think I have what you’re looking for. And I KNOW there is nothing I have you can get with those scary tongs!” Acadia made sure he sounded more scared than he was.
“Oh, well if you are going to call me ‘Apron Guy’ then I will tell you my actual name. It is: ‘L’homme de Tablier’. And I think these tongs will get exactly what I need from you.”
Acadia thought about his training and how many ways he could get out of the chair and get past this French weirdo. First he felt his left wrist to make sure his watch that was also a super fast rope cutting knife was there.
Portland, Maine is the stupidest Portland.