Cheshire Cats

Untangling themselves, Jack gasps for breath and Warren stands, unsteadily on his pegs. I think they're gone Jack, ripped...his words trail off. Having received a head injury, Warren isn't entirely sure what he just saw since things are still a bit wonky and his head is throbbing like a marching bands drummer.
Jack croaks out a yes; his throat is very sore and bruised. Warren extends a hand and pulls Jack up; their bodies bang together, still gripping hands, There is still time to follow them, right Jack? Almost nose to nose, Jack whispers, How did you...Warren interrupts and shows him the glowing wrist device. When did you...grab your bags Jack, Warren interrupts once again. Still in a whisper, There isn't any reason for you to go. Reason? Warren speaks incredulously. Frankly, you astound me my dear Jack; can't be helped now and you obviously need my help 'old boy.'
A low hum beings to fill the air, accompanied by a strange electric charge that makes the hair on the back of Warren's neck stand up. Moving towards the 'rip zone', Jack and Warren look at one another in anticipation. Looking at his own wrist device, Jack sees the rip 'fart' is happening in three seconds, it will be a small one; could make things interesting on the other end. Best not to tell Warren, it would take too long. Well? asks Warren. Any moment now...just then, police whistles blow! Turning to see the men in blue coming down the street, Warren says, none too soon either. Grinning, they disappear like Cheshire cats. The constables, stupefied, mouth's gaping open, look to each other. Did ya see tha' Henry? See what...