Got To Get To Work

Donavan hung up the corded phone on the wall. "Do you mind if I make another call?"

The guard pushed off the wall he was leaning against. "No more calls. Back to your cell."

Donavan sighed. "I thought so."

Once the guard put his hands on Donavan, it was all over. In a flash, Donavan grabbed the phone and wrapped the cord around the guard's neck. He started clicking away at the buttons, while struggling with the guard. The phone rang, giving Donavan some time to restrain his new friend. He kicked out the guard's feet and pinned him against the wall. 

"Hello, who is this?" a voice asked from the phone.

Donavan pushed the phone to his ear. "Karen, please don't hang up!"

"You have some nerve calling me."

"I know. I know. But listen. I need a pickup."

"You have one. Use your own." 

"No. Like I need you to pick me up."

"Why should I do that?" Karen scoffed.

The guard beat his hands against the wall, making a slapping sound. Donavan could hear keys jingling outside the door.

"I will owe you one."

The line was quiet for a moment. Donavan was unsure if she was thinking or put him on hold. He was more focused on the men pounding on the door. 

"Well?" Donavan asked, unable to conceal his impatience.

"Fine. I need to get my coat and let Mr. Kellogg know where I'm going–"

"No time. Come quickly," Donavan said as the door opened with two guards funneling in. 

"Where are you this time?"

"Jail. The close one." Donavan said and hung up.

The guard wrapped in the phone cord was on the brink of unconsciousness. Two guards came at them with batons at the ready. Donavan dodged one of the swings while taking the other in the shoulder. Lightning shot through his whole arm, but he had no time to dwell on it. With his good hand, he slapped the phone off the hook and into the guard that hit him. That distraction gave Donavan enough time to kick the other guard still standing and make a break for the closing door. Hopping through the narrow opening, he left the guards in his wake. 

His next obstacle was the grey, unloving walls that flanked him as he ran down the hall. He kept his head on a swivel, trying to find a viable way out. At the end of the hall stood an older female officer with her taser drawn. Her uniform fit well, proving not all officers ate donuts all day. There was no running from this one.

"Donavan. Don't make this any harder on me," the officer shouted.

"I have to go to work. My boss will fire me if I'm not there."

The officer closed the distance. Her boots moved across the cement floor with a purpose, spewing authority for all to hear.

"Hands up! If you cooperate I might be able to smooth things over with the warden," the officer said, grabbing her handcuffs. 

"What about my boss?"

"Nothing I can do about that, kiddo."

Donavan looked above his head and saw an exposed ceiling with a wide pipe that lead somewhere. He had heard there was construction being done on the jail, but never figured he would get to see it. Looking back at the officer, he knew what he had to do.

"Don't you do it!" the officer ordered. 

Her order fell on deft ears. Donavan sprung off the walls and up onto the pipe. The officer aimed her taser, but Donavan was quick to hide his body behind the pipe. Not wasting time, Donavan crawled along the pipe into the darkness of the ceiling. He could not see, so he trusted the pipe to guide his way. The pipe led him up to the second floor, which at this point was the roof of the building. Scaffolding and various building supplies surrounded him on the top of the roof. He disembarked the pipe and ran to the edge of the roof. Below him was a faded red pickup truck pulling into the parking lot stall closest to him.

Donavan took a few steps back before running toward the edge. He leaped off the roof and bounced off the top of the hood. Donavan felt a crack in his back followed by a sudden shriek that dwarfed the sound of metal being pushed in by his weight. He crawled to his feet and entered the passenger's side of the vehicle, much to the shock of the woman in the truck.

"Donavan, what the hell was that!" Karen said.

"Drive please."

"You said you needed to be picked up. Not a getaway driver."

Donavan buckled his seatbelt. "Please, let's go."

The alarms outside sounded and Karen peeled out of there. They traveled down a few winding streets until they arrived at their destination, Hardford General. The four story building was an eyesore. Concrete walls painted to look like natural wood. After years of weathering, it looked more like smeared diarrhea.

Karen threw the vehicle into park, causing both of them to lurch forward. "Are you going to tell me why you got arrested?"

"Nope," he said, pulling on the handle.

Donavan pushed against the door, but it would not budge. He pulled the silver rod to unlock the door, but it went back down again with a clunk. Donavan looked over to see Karen holding down the lock button.

"I'm not letting you leave until you tell me," Karen said.

"I'm not good at following 'lawful' orders. Is that enough for you?" Donavan said, rolling down the window.

"No, it's not. You need to tell me what happened."

Donavan didn't wait to hear her reply, crawling out the window of her truck. He slapped the ground with his hands and feet before taking off like a sprinter into the building. Karen shook her head.

"This better be a good favor," Karen said.

Donavan kicked in the door to the third floor conference room where Mr. Kellogg was moments from smashing his laptop into the conference room table. The charging cable was still plugged in, running above his head, where he froze in place. 

"Donavan? Thank God you're here! Where have you been?" Mr. Kellogg asked, lowering his laptop.

"I was–”

"Doesn't matter. Maybe I can still salvage this. How do I login to this conference call?" Mr. Kellogg said, opening his laptop. 

Donavan walked around the table and instructed him how to login. It was as simple as clicking the link, entering his name, and clicking connect. Mr. Kellogg gave a toothy smile at his screen, hearing people on the other end.

"Do you have the presentation?" Mr. Kellogg asked, covering his webcam.

"It is in your email."

"Pull it up for me," Mr. Kellogg said, pushing the laptop toward him. 

Donavan clicked through Mr. Kellogg's email until he found it in the deleted folder. He pulled up the presentation and minimized it so Mr. Kellogg could still see the people on the screen. 

"You're good to go." Donavan slid the laptop back to him. 

"Good job, Donavan. We might just save this company yet."

"What did you say Mr. Kellogg?" a voice said from the laptop.

"Nothing, Mr. Terrance. I was just speaking to my best employee, Donavan Santelli. He worked so hard on this proposal. I think you will like it,” Mr. Kellogg said, giving Donavan a thumbs up. 

Donavan breathed an air of relief that his boss's anger was gone. It was also the first time his boss gave him a compliment. After all these years working for him, his luck was starting to turn around. That was until the door opened again. Standing in the doorway was Karen and the female officer. 

"One moment,” Mr. Kellogg said, putting his hand over the webcam again. "Can I help you, officer?"

"No. I'm here for Donavan Santelli. Put your hands behind your back. You are under arrest," the officer said. 

"Really? At my place of work?" Donavan said.

"You left me no choice. Hands behind your back," the officer said. 

Donavan obeyed her commands and she slapped the cuffs on him. He looked at his boss who was shaking his head at him. His future at the company went from one of promise to one of poverty.

"What is going on? Is someone being arrested?" the same voice asked from the laptop.

"Oh no. Just people playing a video outside the room." Mr. Kellogg responded. "Karen, can you close the door."

The officer led him out of the room, while Karen closed the door behind them.

"Don't worry, I will talk with Mr. Kellogg," Karen said.

"Thanks Karen. I appreciate it,” Donavan said.

"Keep moving," the officer ordered.

Donavan was led out of the building and to the officer's squad car. She opened the backdoor. "Watch your head."

"Screw you, Malory!" Donavan said. 

The officer slammed his head into the top of the doorframe and pushed his body inside. She leaned over him, close enough to smell the syrup on her breath. 

"You will not disrespect me again. You call me Officer Santelli when I'm on duty. You understand?"

Donavan winced in pain. "Yeah I got it. God Mom!"

"You're lucky I was the one who arrested you."

"Why? So you can have the privilege of putting us both in jail? Maybe we can share the same cell."

"You are not your father!"

"From where I'm sitting, I might as well be,” Donavan said.

"When we get back to the jail, you don't say anything. You have no idea what kind of favors I had to pull to let your last stunt go unnoticed."

"And the charge against me?"

"Defense attorney's love when an officer screws up her paperwork. You'll be fine assuming you don't do anything stupid."

The officer closed the door and walked around to the driver's side door. She held the handle and took a deep breath. "The things I do for my kids."