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Colliding Rush
for laughingacademy
Author's Notes: Lipstickcat was a great and wonderful beta/help with Turnbull!
"Pay close attention, son."
"Dad?"
"Why of course, son. Unless you have another ethereal visitor you haven't mentioned?"
"Well no, but"
"No buts, son! We're in a bit of a hurry here."
"By `we', I'm assuming you mean you and I."
"Yes of course, and also that yank of yours, and the other fellow from the consulate."
"Turnbull? You brought Turnbull here to rescue me?"
"It was only fair, son. Since it was his idea and all."
earlier that morning
Constable Turnbull didn't admit to any particular sense of joy on the occasions that Inspector Thatcher went on vacation, but he baked a little bit more, and the humming was also a hint.
It was a tune that Constable Fraser was never able to recognize, but if he'd asked, he would've been treated to the entire twenty one and a half verses.
"You're not listening to me, Frase." Constable Fraser's American liaison partner had turned up not long after the Inspector departed. But unlike his last visit, his continued presence was entirely voluntary.
"I'm sorry, Ray. But as you can see, I have a lot of things to attend to."
"Oh yeah, those envelopes just don't lick themselves, call that inconsiderate, I do."
Constable Turnbull quite agreed, but as his mouth was currently occupied with one of said envelopes, he was unable to vocalize his opinion. Ray snatched one of the homemade cookies and grumbled his frustrations into the sympathetic chocolate chips. After finishing off half a batch, Ray picked up his abandoned tirade.
"People aren't happy with you right now, buddy."
"Ray, I hardly think people's opinions could be swayed in so light a manner."
"Well, you don't know how good the other guy's PR team is."
"I shouldn't think that will matter once the truth comes out."
"That's the whole thing though! You keep saying there's proof, but there is no proof!"
Constable Turnbull is forced to jerk sideways to avoid a blow to the head as Ray throws his hands out. He mutters a quick `sorry' to which Constable Turnbull assures him, no harm done.
"You just have to have patience, Ray."
"You keep saying that too!"
"This way, son."
"No Dad, there are two men in that direction, we should head west."
"You get more rebellious every time I see you."
"I certainly do not."
"My point exactly, son."
"That makes no sense."
"I suppose from your youthful view point, no."
"Dad. Dad. That's east, we need to go... oh for heavens sake, why am I even following a ghost?"
"Trust me, son. By now Turnbull and the yank have taken care of those two. Well I doubt the yank helped very much, the state he's in."
"What's wrong with Ray?!"
"Keep your voice down, son. Really, you don't want to call attention to yourself. I'd hate to see you end up where I am right now. Stranded in the afterlife I mean, although I suppose it is a little better than being stranded in Chicago. Smells better, for one."
"Have you ever been to Chicago?"
"Cities, Son. All the same."
around noon
Constable Turnbull is on the phone with Conducting A. Survey, who calls every week. Diefenbaker, who's been napping at his feet, perks up and looks intently at the door. Turnbull follows the half wolf's gaze.
Diefenbaker whines.
"I'm sorry sir, I'm going to have to put you on hold while I investigate the cause of the wolf's distress."
Constable Turnbull cradles the phone and goes to open the door. It's Ray. He's sprawled out on the steps of the Consulate. Looking tired, scared, and extremely beat up. Turnbull attempts to check his vital signs, but is shooed away angrily. Ray tells him a bunch of thugs cornered them and attempted to abduct the Constable. There was a fight and Ray and the Constable were holding their own, but when they pulled out guns and threatened to shoot Ray, Fraser followed the only solution he could see. He gave himself over to the men.
Only, Turnbull has to mentally omit a variety of curse words as he listens to Ray's explanation.
Ray and Constable Fraser had just stepped out to get lunch. This shouldn't have happened in so short a time. Turnbull knows he should call the police, Ray's co-workers would be over to help in minutes.
But Ray's hand grips Constable Turnbull's sleeve. They told Ray to get the proof, get it and bring it to them in exchange for Constable Fraser.
"I'm certain we should've taken a left back there."
"You've been wrong the past three turns, Dad. We're not backtracking now that we're heading in the right direction."
"Teach a boy how to use a compass, and this is how he repays you."
"You weren't the one who taught me how."
"I gave you that first compass, didn't I?"
"Yes."
"Well, there you go. I taught you to teach yourself, much better lesson practically speaking."
"I would've listened to you."
"And yet, we didn't take that left turn, son."
"That's different. This is the way we have to go."
1:47 pm
It took a lot of effort to convince Ray to wait. An argument won when the objecting party nearly passed out, mid shout. The physical altercation had left him worse off than he would admit.
Patience simply was not something he enjoyed practicing. Despite the winces, Ray's capability for movement increased rapidly with the short rest.
After the mailman arrived and departed, Turnbull declared them sufficiently prepared to attempt Constable Fraser's rescue.
Ray also had serious objections to Constable Turnbull driving the GTO. But Turnbull pointed out that since Ray was in no condition to drive and handle his firearm, he should pick one to put his full focus into. Ray chose to let Turnbull drive.
Wise decision, since Turnbull was under the same restrictions as Constable Fraser when it came to using a gun in the States. But also because, Turnbull could drive. Off roading in a floral delivery truck might not be the same as back alley driving, but handling a vehicle amounted to basically the same thing.
Blazing in at a high speed, firing the gun was Ray's idea. Constable Turnbull thought maybe that wasn't the best approach, however. In the end, they decided to go with his plan.
"Oh look, son. There they are."
"Ray!"
"And you just going running off, not a thank you, or by your leave. Sometimes I wonder about your manners, son."
Lieutenant Welsh and the rest of the American police were busy processing the perpetrators as Constable Turnbull waited to give his statement.
Yes, he'd been the one to call the tip in.
Yes, it was he who mailed Constable Fraser's envelope to the state's attorney. He'd assumed it's importance right away, but it was nice to see he'd been correct in that assumption.
Why no, he really didn't intend to take out those billboards with Ray's GTO, he's incredibly sorry about that. But they did seem to help distract the bad guys, while Constable Fraser made his escape.
Ray's still not speaking to him however.
With things all wrapped up and returning to normal, Constable Turnbull has only one question left. How did Constable Fraser know when to escape? There was no way he could've heard the commotion from inside that room. Turnbull had wanted to be thorough in his report, so he had in fact gone over the entire scene. The area in which they'd kept Constable Fraser was not only hidden by a needlessly complicated maze-like trail, it was also designed nearly soundproof.
Constable Fraser seems reluctant to speak on this point, and the American's chalk it up to his super Mountie abilities.
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