Uniformed Men in Distress
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Elevator Escape - 01
🕑 Added 2025-11-18 22:07:16 +0000 UTCJarek Solas had been staring at both troopers since they left the courtroom just quietly, calculating, watching every movement with the patience of a man who had already decided today was the day.
Trooper Aldren Vale held his left arm.
Trooper Niko Arman held his right.
Jarek was cuffed in front, belly chain snug around his waist, leg irons clinking with each step. A full transport setup.
They guided him into the old courthouse service elevator. It groaned like it hated being used. Although the interior had been updated multiple times to make it a bit more modern, it still looked pretty utilitarian, nobody wanted to use elevator which its only function to transport inmates to and from the courtroom.
A metal plate high on the wall read:
“WARNING! THIS AREA IS NOT MONITORED. MAINTAIN CONTROL OF INMATES AT ALL TIMES”
Jarek glanced at it and smirked.
Vale’s grip tightened. Arman’s fingers dug in.
“What’s so funny?” Arman muttered.
Jarek shrugged. “Just feels like… foreshadowing.”
The doors clattered shut. The elevator lurched downward. It’s only 6 stories from the courtroom level to the ground floor, but being an old elevator, it would take about 15 seconds per floor. Every trooper working this duty wished that they would upgrade it, citing safety concerns, but after a while they just got used to it. Jarek rolled his shoulders and brought his cuffed hands up a bit, trying to “adjust.”
Both troopers tensed. Then relaxed when they realized he wasn’t trying to do anything.
The elevator rattled. Vale’s radio chirped.
“Unit Three-Seven, confirm transport status?”
Vale turned his head toward the mic clipped on his uniform shirt epaulet, shoulder angled, neck bent, eyes away from Jarek.
“Three-Seven. Inmate Solas finished with court. Returning to the facility. ETA twenty-eight to thirty minutes.”
Dispatch: “Copy, Three-Seven. Try not to let him run again this time.”
Vale smirked and angled his torso even more. Arman loosened his grip a little, not enjoy the mocking tone of the dispatch lady.
Jarek’s smirk sharpened. He’d waited for exactly this moment. Jarek moved so fast the elevator seemed to jolt again. He slammed his left shoulder into Vale with the force of a linebacker.
CRACK.
Vale’s back hit the steel wall hard enough to knock the breath out of him. His hat flew off, spinning across the floor. His knees buckled, and he half-crumpled with a wheeze.
In the same movement, Jarek twisted right and ripped the Taser straight off Arman’s belt. The retention hood was engage, but with one vicious yank tore it free.
Arman’s eyes widened. “Hey….!”
Jarek fired the taser, knowing that Arman was wearing body armor, he aimed low. The darts struck Arman’s lower body, one around his hip, another on his thigh. With this close distance the probes of the taser didn’t have enough distance to spread and create an effective neuromuscular incapacitation. But it would have to do.
Arman’s body seized instantly, teeth clenched, muscles locked. Although it’s not an optimum target and separation for the taser probes, it’s enough to somehow incapacitate him. He fell sideways, his trooper hat hit the floor and flew off to the side, limbs stiff, a strangled sound caught in his throat.
Vale groaned, trying to regain himself, pushing up on one arm, before Jarek pivoted behind him and whipped the slack of his waist chain across Vale’s throat, yanking it back like a garrote while maintaining pressure on the taser trigger to maintain the 5-second taser cycle.
Vale gagged, hands flying to the chain instinctively, choking. Arman’s first 5-second taser cycle ended. His limbs twitched, breath ragged, but he started to push himself up, brain stumbling back online.
Jarek caught it. He pressed the taser trigger again for another cycle. Arman convulsed again, crashing back to the floor hard, heel scraping loudly against metal, body rigid and helpless. Involuntarily let out a vibrated scream.
Vale gasped, clawing at the chain, then realizing he’s still armed and started reaching for his holster, but Jarek anticipated that move and he blocked the holster with his knee, pinning Vale’s hip, forcing him still.
“Don’t…..” Jarek strained, voice raw.
Jarek tightened his grip, reaching down with one hand to undo the double-lock on Vale’s holster. That’s the point of the double lock, to prevent unauthorized disarmament. But it was like Jarek was experienced, which he was, being a veteran criminal, he knew how it worked. Vale fought like hell, panic, training, desperation, but his oxygen-starved muscles weren’t obeying.
The holster hood popped, and the pistol slid free. Vale froze when the muzzle pressed against his skull.
“Stop! Hands up,” Jarek said calmly. “Now.”
Vale slowly lifted both hands beside his head, palms open, breathing in ragged gulps.
To be continued.
Comments
queerly beloved
Ooh, great art and writing! : D I love where this story is going, heh-heh. Seems like Jarek's got the situation well under control. One of the details I like is that Jarek's taller than both the troopers -- just a little bit, but enough. Seems like a neat artistic hint that he's the one who's got the power. I also love the way trooper hats look, so it's fun to see a pair of troopers involved in one of your stories. >:D Thanks for creating this and sharing it with us! (Both the art and the story.)
