The Warning Shot
I don't own these characters.
This story is set in the midst of Purgatory and is intended to answer the question: "What if Eames had fired her weapon when she came into Testarosa's office?"
As a warning, this isn't a dream sequence, but there is a happy ending for most of the characters. I'd be particularly interested in your comments on the plausibility of the plotting. The first couple of chapters are intended to rip your heart out and for you to be in Eames' shoes. A special thank you to Mike Logan who came along about the time I was going to press the delete button and saved this story. I'm still editing the final couple of chapters (There are 5). So I'll post as quickly as I can. - Dix.
CHAPTER 1
The bullet leaves her gun at one thousand one hundred fifty feet per second. There is no time now for regrets or second thoughts. The sound of the ignited gunpowder expanding bounces in the small room. The explosion makes her ears ring. The gun kicks up slightly as the bullet leaves the barrel and travels the distance from her hand to his chest.
Most handguns are fired at targets less than 10 yards away. Seventy percent of the bullets that police officers fire miss their intended target. Eames hasn't missed yet.
She stares at him over the gun. Bobby's arm is dropping and he has loosened his hold on the gun in his grip. If she could hear anything, she might hear it strike the floor. He looks annoyed at her, like she said the wrong thing during an interrogation. Then his eyes widen slightly and his left hand flutters in front of his chest. There's an odd shaped hole in his jacket. "Son of a" he says in a hoarse whisper but she doesn't hear.
The officer beside her turns and puts his large hand over her's and wrenches the gun out of her grasp. She follows the action of his hands with her eyes then lifts her gaze to meet his. The cop gives her a hard look that she can't interpret. She looks back at Bobby, but it's too late. He isn't standing any longer. His bulky form is heaped on the plastic sheet on the floor. She takes a step toward him but the cop takes her arm and turns her away. He walks her out of the room, through the club and out into the street. The street to the left and right of the club is clogged with vehicles. The wind cuts through her jacket. She stumbles on rough concrete and the hand around her arm tightens so she doesn't fall.
Captain Danny Ross and two detectives she doesn't recognize meet them on the pavement. "What happened?" He asks. She's dazzled by the lights of the vehicles. They arc in the air and reflect off the windows in the buildings across the street. Ross shifts his gaze from Eames to the uniform.
"She discharged her weapon." He answers. "There's a man down in there." He points to the club with his free hand. Ross nods at Mike Logan standing beside him.
"Show him where my car is." He says. "Put her in there and stay with her," He says. "Nobody gets access without my say so." Ross heads for the club quickly outdistancing Megan Wheeler with long strides. She jogs to catch up.
By the time they get to Ross' car, Eames is trembling so hard she can hardly manoeuvre on her own. She's not responding to verbal instructions. "Get in." She just stands there. "Duck your head." "Sit down" "Move your leg." Nothing penetrates the fog of shock, horror, and fear that runs through her brain. Finally, they manhandle her into the car. When they slam the door, she's sprawled across the back seat trembling and weeping noiselessly.
"Geez." says the detective. "What the hell happened in there?"
The uniformed cop shrugged. "She fired her weapon. Big guy went down. "
"Big guy?"
"Like a mountain."
"Shit." Logan said. "Stay here." He jogged the length of the car, then turned back and said, "Don't let anybody talk to her. I'll be right back."
It took Mike Logan a few minutes, some choice words and couple of carefully placed elbows to get through the club and into the office where the shooting had happened. The room itself was mostly clear of personnel, but there was a crowd of on lookers at the door, some were bar staff, some were patrons and some were cops. Danny Ross was standing on the far side of Testarosa's office talking urgently into his cell phone and Wheeler was on the door. She looked grim when he pierced the crowd.
She turned sideways so he could have a better view. A pair of paramedics was in the room beginning their assessment of a man Mike might have recognized instantly under different circumstances. Their patient was conscious, eyes open and breathing on his own, however he was very agitated, thrashing and moaning. His clothing was bloody. Logan hadn't laid eyes on Bobby Goren in months. He was heavier than Mike remembered and the beard was new. He watched the paramedics open Goren's jacket before turning back to Megan.
"It's Goren." He said, finally deciding.
Megan nodded. "It doesn't look good." She was thinking about a suspended cop moonlighting for a guy like Testarosa. Logan was thinking about Goren's health.
"He's not dead." Logan said. "I'm gonna go tell Eames."
"Captain said not to talk to her."
"She needs to know he isn't dead."
Behind him, the paramedics' heart monitor began to ping in a relentless way. Logan glanced over his shoulder and saw them increase their pace.
"By the time you get back to her, he might be." Wheeler advised.
Mike swallowed hard, turned, and pushed his way back through the vultures.
The uniform watched him cross the road. "Anybody come around?" Mike asked.
"Nope."
"OK take off. I'll handle this." Logan leaned against the car just behind the driver's side rear door. Eames was quiet now. She was sitting up. He couldn't tell whether her eyes were open or closed. He tried not to look at her. Instead, he concentrated on the door and waited to see if the paramedics came out or the coroner went in.
Thanks for taking the time to read this. - Dix.
