Thursday, September 3, 2015

Chapter 5 of Roque Mendez, Debt Collector

Carter had laid out all the details to Roque Mendez: Becks' address, how long he'd been dodging the debt, and Becks' ultimate tendency when someone knocked on his door to collect: run. Carter had said he'd sent someone, or even more-than-one, on many occasions to kindly asking Becks for the money, but like Carter had said about him, he always managed to escape. Which was one of the strongest reasons Carter had called Mendez, the one that Big T said 'the best in the business'. Mendez won't deny that, he was flattered by Big T's commendation, but he can't be the first individual Carter looked up on the Debt Collectors Phone Book. Roque recalled some of his jobs involving attempts of escape--by car, motorcycle, bicycle, on foot-- but no one had actually succeeded. Will this Trey Becks dude succeed?
Roque had entered the apartment and asked the doorman if Trey was in his apartment. He confirmed Becks' presence in his apartment, and up Roque went. Some minutes later and Mendez was already in front of Becks' door. He gently knocked at the door. "Trey Becks!" No reply came out. "Yo Trey Becks, can you kindly open up? I want to talk about business," Roque thought about the 'Trey Becks! This is the FBI! Open up!' gimmick so that Trey can buy it and immediately open up, but something interfered that idea. A noise from inside, what seemed to be a toppled frying pan. It was too quiet. Something was wrong. Mendez wasn't about to wait until discovering Becks was already on the run and was probably five blocks away from him now. He stepped back, and then kicked the door down. Not any single human being was inside, so but he heard a window being slide up to an opened state. He immediately rushed to the source only to find someone--definitely Becks-- just exiting the window to the fire escape just outside the apartment and starting to climb the fire escape instead of ascending it by stairs. This kid, Roque thought, knew parkour. Not a bad start.  
Becks was climbing the side gratings of the fire escape the direction up when Roque just barely vaulted through the window. He decided not to waste his time trying to attempt parkour himself, so he ascended the stairwell, but sped himself in the process by jumping over the railings. By the first ascent, Becks was already a level up from him. He won't catch up to Becks at this rate, he thought. Might not be the worst, if not the best, to try those sick parkour moves. He grabbed hold of the gratings and pulled himself upward. His biceps ached but he won't give in. Not now. He struggled to pull himself and tried to climb over the side railing, but instead he tripped and stumbled. Luckily he landed not on the other side of the railing. 
Roque glimpsed Becks already gaining more ground from him, now he's already on top of the flat. Roque picked up the pace and accelerated his run. When he was on the same ground as Becks, he saw the latter still not slowing down, not even to look back if his pursuer stopped. Now, as he still in hot pursuit for Becks, Roque Mendez get to witness something. The kid, Becks, was very fluent in the art of free running. Not unlike Mendez himself, Becks ran like he knew a way around, over, or even under any obstacle he came about. Even before him came close. As if he just ran, jump, slid, and leaped through all the things that stood in his way without any sign of hesitation or even slowing down to set his footing. He just did. Even with some unintentionally nice sight with Becks doing a backwards somersault on a gap between buildings, and landing with a front roll on a lower roof.
Roque himself can't afford to perform those stunts himself; he just leaped and landed on a roll himself. A gush of relief went to him, he hadn't lost his target. Just Becks getting further. More parkour antics and more of Roque Mendez barely trying to keep up the pace. The more obstacles stood in Becks' way, the more smoothly he ran through pretty much everything. Roque, while not as nimble as Becks, bypass all of the obstacles as well. He was genuinely surprised of himself. He'd never done a foot chase this long on any job he'd ever done.
Then there came a gap. It's not all that big, but the height of both of the building are not the same, thus Becks had an oncoming disturbance of having to climb to the higher building, as Roque had calculated. Becks abruptly halted, and then gazed up to the other edge, down, and then behind. His eyes met Mendez. It was wild, and over the face was smeared cockiness. Mendez had thought, this idiot wouldn't have gone further, or instead done something stupid. But instead, Becks did the unthinkable.
He dropped down from the edge of the roof. Roque instantly sprinted way faster than he was before, to see if Becks just simply quitting from the run in an easy way. What Roque saw was Becks descending and then gripping tightly a clothesline. Roque had noticed that between buildings were cobwebbed with clotheslines, with all sorts of clothing hanging about. He saw Trey hanging on a clothes line, and then in a blinding fashion grabbed a belt from a pair of jeans. Soon after, he released his hand to almost simultaneously hung on a lower line and then used the belt he just snatched to zipline the line. At the end of the line was a balcony, where he landed through a sliding door.
Just as Becks landed, Roque thought, this kid couldn't just show me some sick stunts and get away with it. He leaped -- entirely made of faith -- and grabbed hold of a line But the line snapped due to his weight and force he just put after the leap, and he fell. He swung somewhat sideways, and crashed into the window of a balcony next to the one Becks landed on.
Mendez felt the shard of the glass stuck all over his right arm. He twitched, feeling itches of pain, but he lumbered forward from the unlucky room he just stepped into and went for the door outside the apartment. He rammed the door and found Becks near a stairwell. The way Becks jumped, it looked like he went down. Roque started to sprint and descended the building. Instincts fully lead Roque's guts this time around, he could've stopped between the floors to check if Becks actually exited the stairwell at one, but instead he kept on descending. Went he was at a point of no further scaling down the stairs, he heard footsteps -- more like running steps -- to his left. He saw Becks, graças a Deus, he thought, for he haven't lost his hunt. Becks was near the doorway when the door suddenly swung open to reveal a generic looking tough guy. Becks didn't even brake; he just simply jumped and hanged on the doorway, swung over the man, and landed, still on the run.
Meanwhile, Roque was just nearing the doorway when the generic-ish man suddenly brandished a gun, shouting, "Hey punk! No funny business, punk, or I'll--" Roque obviously didn't have the time to toy with this guy as he did with several people two days ago; he just punched him across the face (fortunately not blocked) and went on. Guy went down, flat.
Behind the doorway was another doorway, and then it was the streets. When Roque finally got there, he saw Becks attempting to perform yet another acrobatic take on a simple task: crossing the street. The road was two-laned, and while not very crowded, it's not like it was completely empty. a car strolled by, and suddenly drastically reduced its speed went Becks came along. Becks carried on like it was nothing; he just vaulted over the hood. Then a truck came by. Becks didn't even reduce his speed; he just did a wallrun on the back of the truck's box. Roque was astonished; but he wouldn't stop. He passed in front of the stopped car and when he went for the second lane, a car suddenly came out of nowhere stopped in front of Mendez. Roque didn't have time to react, or to commit some insane reflex moves. He bumped on the hood and inadvertently rolled on the hood of the car. The previous speed of his sprint made him possible to roll all over the hood until he hit the ground. He got up again, and picked up his speed from where he left off. He glimpsed Becks entering the building. He wasn't going to let the game get away. If he was consistent, he would've caught Becks. But now, he'd admit on one thing: this kid is good.

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