Day 213 - Repeat Offenders - Chapter 7.1 - (1130 words)

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REPEAT OFFENDERS

By Wayne Webb

CHAPTER 7.1

Ivan burst out laughing at the demand, though logically presented, for the return of the watch. He laughed a little too heartily though and it made him rock on his feet, suddenly less steady with the uncontrolled emotion of true laughter. Nevertheless as the guffaw subsided to a chuckle, he still kept the watch, shaking his finger at the Bank Manager as if he were admonishing a child.


“Nice try, I'll give you that” Ivan walked away again and took a seat, casually as if it were a natural and unconsidered decision, but he was masking the dizziness and discomfort he was truly feeling.


“Ok, so no watch back, what are you going to do with me?” Harold asked.


“You should probably stay for a while.” Brian stated, looking at the readouts on his machine absently, not acknowledging or looking at the unexpected addition to their crew.


“Do I have a choice in that?” He sounded doubtful that he did.


“Of course, you're not a prisoner.” Brian started but Michael and Ivan both objected.


“Hang on a second, we can't just have him leave and call the cops!” Michael said, the gun still in his hand.


“I won't I swear.” Harold added hopefully.


“Well you might, but you shouldn't. Not for our benefit, but for your own.” Brian looked up at Mr White briefly, embarrassed by the situation he had put him in.


“Why? Because I may get hurt? Is that it? Honestly I don't know what is going on or who you are, and this whole thing? It's just insane, and I can testify to that … I mean if it come to it, right?” He went cold as he knew he had said too much and he was building a case for his execution.


Brains sighed and came over to where Harold was standing, pointed at a chair and stayed in place until Harold took it, then pulled up his own facing him.


“You can't go to the police because there would be too many questions you could not answer. You would be declared an imposter at best, and insane at worst. It would not go well for you, or the other you.”


“The other me, right, sure whatever. You know I can ...”


Brian waved away his objection whatever it was going to be. “No, no you can't.”


“You don't know what I was going to say.”


“It doesn't matter what you were going to say. You are not you. You can't prove it, and the more you try the guiltier or the crazier you will look.” Brian closed his eyes and ran a hand slowly up and down his forehead, not looking and feeling the weariness of knowledge that the man he was talk to did not have and did not make the connection to.


Yet.


“What's to stop me from just leaving?” Harold asked, feeling braver in Brian's reasonable nature and request for less violence. He stood up and took one step away from the chair.


“I would stop you.” Growled Ivan, and suddenly the concussion he was still feeling seemed like less of an impediment to his actions that Harold had been assessing up till then.


“Yes, I rather think you would. So I am a prisoner.” Harold sat again, this time exhaling loudly as he did, falling downwards more than sitting back.


“No, no one is a fucking prisoner ok?” Brian pulled at his hair in frustration.


“Jesus, did the Professor just swear? Did I hear that?” Ivan grinned but was not too surprised, they had pushed the boundaries of what Brian 'Brains' was capable of handling. He and Michael would let him think whatever he wanted about what would happen to the errant stowaway they had gathered up, but ultimately it would fall to Michael and then to Ivan to clean up the mess, and it would need cleaning at some stage, they all knew this.


“Look.” Brian adopted a more reasonable tone, and used his hands to calm the situation, but also to give them something to do. His urge was to tug and yank at his hair, to avoid the balling up of fists, the digging of nails into his own palms. He needed to calm himself in order to bring things back to a more even tempered discussion. “Look. Harold? Yes Harold. We know all about you, like where you live and what your wife's name is, even the inscription on your watch. It's all there, we have been down this road before. We researched you and we have met you more times than you are able to recall, because a bunch of them happened to us, but not to you. Do you follow me?”


“I follow what you are saying. It does not mean I have to believe it.”


“Well that's largely up to you, but honestly learning the hard way for you will be … traumatic for you. You are not Harold White any more, not the real one. You have the same genes, the same DNA, the same fingerprints but you are a copy.”


“I'm the copy? No, no I am me.”


“Well yes you kind of are but think about this from the police's point of view. If a man, who was claiming to be someone that already exists and has the same fingerprints, the same DNA and is identical to the other Harold White, what are they going to think. They can't tell you apart, so one of you must be an imposter. As you are the 'new' person, the other one is living your life in blissful ignorance of you right now, then you are likely to be the imposter. If you went down to the cop shop and they went off to the bank? The other guy will pass all the tests but have the advantage of being in place. So what do you tell them? That you are not the copy?”


“Yes?” Harold was unsure, reality was a tricky thing these days.


“So you tell them about us, and they come down and what? Arrest us? On what charge and with what evidence? They will not get a warrant on your tale of time travel and doppelgängers. What you will get is a psychological evaluation. Even if they got a warrant? There's the machine, but they have no idea about it and the only one who can operate it is me. I will deny everything you say and you will likely go to a hospital.”



“Then I'll say nothing about this and tell them a story they'll believe.” Harold shrunk back at growl from Ivan.