|To Play the Game
Author: DYlogger PM
AU. Frank Abagnale is an FBI agent searching for the elusive cheque forger Carl Hanratty. Warning: Spoilers for hotel scene; possible minor plot holes; unbetaedRated: Fiction K+ - English - Crime/Drama - Frank A. & C. Hanratty - Words: 805 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 3 - Follows: 1 - Published: 12-20-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6572008
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
To Play the Game A/N: Done for the AU Bingo prompt Other: Film Noir over on LJ. It's a role-reverse fic where Carl is the forger and Frank is the FBI agent. There are spoilers for the movie as I took the hotel scene straight from there. Horray for being the third fic in this fandom!
To Play the Game
A/N: Done for the AU Bingo prompt Other: Film Noir over on LJ. It's a role-reverse fic where Carl is the forger and Frank is the FBI agent. There are spoilers for the movie as I took the hotel scene straight from there. Horray for being the third fic in this fandom!
Frank looked at himself in the mirror, wearing his father's old suit. He was a sixteen-year-old spy wannabe hired by the FBI. Frank knew they were going to dump him back on his mother's doorstep from where he ran away from, but at this point Frank didn't even cary. He wasn't just Frank William Abagnale Jr. anymore.
Frank did have one skill. He could pride himself to be better than any other person in the country, and everyone knew it. If they knew the actual extent of his abilities, they would be grateful that he was one of the good guys. It was why the FBI chose him instead of any other spy-wannabe teenager.
Frank's forte was cheques. He knew everything about them and could tell a fake from the real deal at just a glance. He would bet that he could forge them too if he wanted to. Right now, that was what he was doing. He was creating fake cheques to test how the elusive forger he was supposed to catch made them. Well, not at the moment, of course. At the moment, he was looking at himself in the mirror of the hotel room of the culprit he was chasing. The reflection of not Frank Abagnale Jr., but of his self-created alias, Barry Allen of the Secret Service (who was, by the way, not on file).
Carl Hanratty approached his hotel room swearing to himself. Someone- probably from the government- had broken in to the room and was searching it. By now, the man who had broken in had probably found the forged cheques and equipment by now.
Hanratty had no family. They all went fighting the good fight, and he was the only one left. He turned to illegal measures to profit, and to make a living for himself. He knew he would be caught someday, he just didn't think that day would be today.
He would make sure that day wasn't today. To do that, he had only one option.
"FBI!," he yelled, pushing open the door and forcing his way in. He heard flushing from the bathroom. "FBI. Come out of the bathroom. Step out of the bathroom!"
A young man calmly walked out. "Hands on your head!" warned Hanratty, pointing his gun at him.
"You know he's got over two hundred cheques-"
"Shut up. Put your hands on your head!" Taking the offense might not have been the best idea if the agent would stay that calm.
"Relax! You're late, alright? My name's Allen, Barry Allen, United States Secret Service. Your boy just tried to jump out the window, my partner has him in custody."
"Allen, what are you talking about?" This Barry Allen man must have been playing with Hanratty. He couldn't stop what he started, though, so he had to keep going on with the charade.
"You think the FBI are the only ones on this guy? I mean, c'mon. C'mon, he's dabbling in government cheques here. I've been following a paper trail this guy's leaving… it's been months now. Hey, you mind taking that gun out of my face? Please, really. Makes me nervous."
"Let me see some credentials."
"Alright. Sure. Take my whole wallet. Want my gun, too?" Allen tossed a wallet over to Hanratty.
Without looking in the wallet Hanratty nodded. "I didn't expect the Secret Service in this too."
"Hey, don't worry about it. What's your name?"
"Handratty. Carl Hanratty. You mind if I come downstairs with you?"
"Sure thing. Just let me get this evidence downstairs first. LAPD should be here any second." Allen walked out of the door, leaving Hanratty behind in an empty hotel room.
"Wait! Your wallet."
Allen turned at him and winked, "You keep it. I trust you."
Once Allen was gone, Hanratty opened the wallet to see what he could find about the FBI agent. The wallet was filled with nothing but coupons.
What game was Barry Allen trying to play with the cheque forger?
Frank found him.
Hanratty had been clever. Masquerading as an FBI agent to evade capture. Frank very well couldn't have taken him in without anything solid against someone who claimed to work for the government.
But he at least got a name. The next time Frank met with Carl Hanratty, he would end the game.