He pressed his shoulder hard into his solar plexus to keep him firmly against the wall to restrain his movement and breathing until he was still. The man gasped for air, but did not struggle. He moved a hand heavily over the man's mouth for insurance and pressed a PPG to the mans' belly.
His victim's eyes widened at the realization of what was next, but made not so much as a whimper as he closed them to await it.
His attacker looked away with an uneasy grimace as he pulled the trigger. The PPG was point blank aimed upwards into the ribcage sending hot bands of plasma searing through most of the man's vital organs in a microsecond. His let out a strangled gurgle, his entire body seizing upwards then went limp at the knees almost immediately. He was dead before the sound of the shot was even heard.
The dead man's assailant slowly lessened his hold, letting the body slowly slump to the floor without a sound. He moved quickly, palming the PPG and rolling the body over and removing the wallet from his back pocket.
The lone figure looked back only once, then retreated into a dark passageway tossing the wallet and the PPG down the nearest waste chute
Three days laterSecurity surrounded the entrance, Sheridan signaled silently to Mr. Allen and the small armored team behind him to maintain position. They'd already agreed how to proceed. They didn't expect trouble but then they never expected this either. Never in a million years.
Zack triggered the door chime.
"Yes?" came the familiar voice came tentatively over the speaker.
"Marcus, It's Chief Allen and Captain Sheridan... We're going to need you to come along with us."
"I'm surprised it took you this long to be honest," the voice said softer and wearier after moment's hesitation. The door whirred open and Marcus stood there solemnly, arm falling to his side from triggering the control panel next to the door. The strong scent of liqour wafted out into the corridor.
Zack guessed he hadn't slept in days. His cheeks were sunken cheeks and had dark circles under his eyes, he was barefoot in dark pants and wrinkled white undershirt that only served to make him appear paler and more fragile looking than anyone remembered him being. His normally well trimmed beard was scruffy and unkempt. This was not the Marcus Cole they knew.
Sheridan pushed through the security team determinedly to come nearly nose to nose with the ranger. "We'd like to do this low profile if we can, understood?" Sheridan said it simply, but the disappointment and anger were more than clear. Zack wondered if this modest request was all that would be required as he shifted his rifle to his other side. He'd hand picked the biggest and brawniest men for the security team and briefed them on the Ranger's extensive schooling in hand to hand combat and supplied pictures from past damage reports. As it was it would still be a challenge if he didn't go peaceably.
"I won't resist," he said uneasily raising his hands just above his shoulder. His eyes skirted nervously over barrels of a half dozen security pulse rifles pointed at him. It was then he noticed the red dots from the laser sights on his chest like deadly fireflies. He crammed his eyes shut and let out a tense sigh. "Can I change first?"
Sheridan nodded, now a little less on edge. "Sure. Go ahead, Marcus."
Marcus nodded silently and slowly tread past the untouched bed He removed his t-shirt dropping to the floor behind him and opened a lower drawer of the dresser and pulled out a clean white button up shirt and put it on, leaving it hang open He then opened a upper drawer and carefully lifted out a neatly folded stack of what appeared to be his Ranger uniforms and sat them on the foot of the bed.
The rifles whirred suddenly to attention as the security officers charged their weapons in anticipation of a coming conflict when Marcus dove and hand in the middle of the stack and pulled out a handful of shiny metal. He froze, the silver tube of his Den'Bokand and his ranger pin in his large open upturned hand. "I'm just-" he began to stammer in defense.
"At ease, guys." Zack softly called back the dogs. The men took a step back and relaxed a bit. "Go ahead." he motioned to Marcus to continue.
Marcus nodded and sat the Den'Bok to the side of the pile. He knelt down and laid a kiss to the folded uniforms and whispered something in Minbari for a moment or two then placed the Ranger pin on top. He rose and turned back to them, absently buttoning up his shirt and missing a few along the way.
"Thank you. Can you make sure Delenn gets those please?" He asked finally looking up into Sheridan's stern gaze. The Captain nodded stiffly. "Okay." Marcus raised his arms again, this time out to his side waiting, staring at the floor. "I'm ready when you are."
Zack looked down at his bare feet. "You want your shoes?"
"You'll just take them when I get to lockup anyway," he mumbled lifelessly. "Why bother."
"Alright, Chief, let's do this." Sheridan motioned to Zack to begin the pat down.
Mr. Allen approached slowly. "Hands on the back of your head please," He instructed stepping slowly towards the rear of him as two security guards stepped out to cover him from the sides with their weapons.
Marcus nodded, following his order, looking only at the floor. "Sorry, I'm new to this," he cracked half-heartedly, his normally pleasant demeanor was now fearful and empty.
Sheridan stiffened at his joke as Zack secured the Ranger's hands firmly and quickly frisked him. "He's clean," he stated out of habit. Mr Allen reached to his belt for his cuffs.
"I don't know that we'll need those. Are we going to have any problems, Mr. Cole?" the Captain inquired gruffly.
"No," he quietly mouthed with a weak shake of his shaggy head. "No problems at all."