They were both there, staggering together unsteadily as they began to maneuver through the alley. Mars was clinging limply to Paige, his weight nearly pulling her over. As she turned her attention away from her feet and towards the courtyard, her eyes shot to Jayden's face, and her whole body jerked convulsively in response to his presence. As her left arm tightened reflexively around Mars' ribcage, the larger man gasped, sagging lower on his knees. She looked desperately, too slowly, behind her at the swinging door.
The fire exit slammed shut. Jayden was numbly aware that his training had taken over; he was already steadily aiming his gun towards them, braced in both hands. The look on Paige's face made it seem almost unnecessary to identify himself, like an afterthought. She already knows it's over. She knows they're done.
"FBI! Don't move!"
She was frozen, a terrified statue. Mars, wheezing, continued to fumble the black mass of his left hand towards his right ribs, shuddering, the only thing moving in the alley. Shit, what's he reaching for? thought Jayden frantically, Why can't anyone just go down easy today?
"I said don't move! Sir!" His gun was pointed straight at Mars now, all his attention focused. "I need you to put your hands –"
"He can't!" shouted Paige, wide-eyed. She was shaking her head, helplessly.
Jayden paused. What's going on? Mars' hand was completely wrapped in something black, it looked like, and not capable of much. He didn't look aggressive, just . . . disoriented. "What's wrong with him?" the agent asked Paige's pleading eyes, tilting his gun muzzle slightly. Mars' black hand grasped back up towards his sagging head.
"He's hurt," said Paige, and shifted the swaying man's weight against her side. "Pretty badly. I don't think he knows what's going on."
"Mars! Ethan Mars!" Jayden snapped. Mars' head lifted towards him, but the eyes were squinting, blind, the look of someone trying to stare into the sun. I didn't think there was that much blood on the trail. Shit. Well, this can't be too hard to deal with. At least I think my chances of one of them trying to jump me just got cut in half.
"Okay," Jayden continued thoughtfully. "Here's what I want you to do, Ms. Paige. You're going to help him get down on the ground, all right? Looks like that's the direction he's headed in, anyway. Get him facedown on the ground, right there on that empty patch."
She began to slowly comply with the order, shuffling the two of them towards a relatively garbage-free square of asphalt, more or less free of chemical traces. Jayden suddenly realized that he was still wearing the ARI glasses, focusing through a haze of identification and overstimuli, snatched them off his face, and quickly worked them back into his breast pocket.
Mars continued, briefly, to stare towards Jayden as though he were trying to puzzle something out. Paige gingerly shifted his arm off her shoulders to get behind him, caught him by the armpits when he wobbled, and leaned slightly backwards as she bent at the knees, lowering him towards the ground. Mars flailed vaguely outward as he sank down with her. "Ethan, Ethan, listen. Just sit down," she urged loudly. Towards Jayden, she added, "This is hard. He's really heavy."
He stared impassively at her over the muzzle of his gun. The more off-balance you are, the more comfortable I feel, lady. Awkwardly, she fumbled, abruptly letting Mars drop out of her grasp and onto the pavement, where he tried to catch himself with his outstretched right arm, but instead fell heavily onto his side on the ground, curling up in pain. "Oh, god, I'm sorry, Ethan," she said, staggering a little herself as she bent over his gasping face. "Did you hit your head?"
"Get him facedown, Ms. Paige," repeated Jayden, and she threw him a quick look of fury.
"Ethan, can you answer me? I need your help."
The shivering man moved his face to point vaguely towards her voice; Jayden could just barely make out the words: "I don't . . . I don't think I can . . ."
"Okay, I'm going to roll you over. You've got to get on your stomach." He was shaking his head, but she slipped one hand under his downwards hip and pulled up, her other supporting his chest on the way down. "No, Ethan," she said, as he tried to roll back. "Just stay there."
"What's on his hand? Why does his hand look like that?" Jayden wondered if there were some bizarre, sinister purpose to it. It looked like it was wrapped in black plastic.
"It's a bandage. His hand is bleeding."
He squinted incredulously. Doesn't look like any bandage I've ever seen, but he does seem to be favoring it pretty heavily; I guess that's the source of the blood trail. I suppose he's not going to suffocate me with it. "I need his hands behind his head, Ms. Paige." That earned him another angry look.
"I doubt they're going to stay there, Agent," she snapped back.
"Do your best." She did, lips pressed disapprovingly shut. Mars tried to jerk away from her touch as she gently pulled up first his right hand to the back of his head, then his muffled left one, clasping them in her own.
"I'm sorry, Ethan," she said. "I'm sorry, I know it hurts."
Christ, I feel like a real asshole, thought Jayden. "Okay," he said. "Okay, let go." He had to admit that it looked like she was right; Mars almost immediately curled the left hand protectively back under his shoulder and pulled the right one down, palm upward, to pillow his face against the rough pavement. Shit, I've only got the one pair of handcuffs. Better save them for her. Paige was looking challengingly towards Jayden, her face clearly saying, I told you so, one hand placed lightly on Mars' upper back to keep him still. The FBI agent hesitated between calling immediately for backup and doing a patdown.
"Does he have any weapons, Ms. Paige?"
"No," she said curtly.
"Oh, you know that for a fact?"
"Yes." I call bullshit on that, lady, but I think maybe he'll keep for a minute or two.
"Do you? Have any weapons?"
"Nnno." Jayden, on edge, immediately caught the slight hesitation in her voice. Oh, I don't like the sound of that. That's it, patdown it is, ladies first. The situation was far from ideal, but he didn't want to be distracted with his phone before he'd checked her over.
"You sure about that, Ms. Paige? No knives, no mace?"
"I'm sure!" She looked incensed. "I was just – I don't have anything on me! I was thinking!"
"Okay, I'm going to need you to – " He cut himself off, momentarily stumped. The space they were in was not only impossibly small and awkwardly shaped, but littered with flattened cardboard boxes and half-full garbage bags that might contain anything. And then, there was that dumpster in the way. Getting both of his suspects facedown on the ground, in clear patches that were separate from each other but both within his sight . . . it was going to be a geometrical nightmare. "Stand up, please."
She did so, slowly, her hands automatically rising as she watched the gun follow her movements. Mars shifted restlessly as she moved away, but remained down.
"Thank you. Now, please step . . ." he considered thoughtfully, and finally pointed to a relatively clear stretch of wall that Mars' head was pointed towards. "Over there. Both hands on the wall in front of you, legs apart." I can pretty much keep them both in view from there. She reluctantly followed his orders. While he watched her, he briefly shifted the gun to his left hand, so that he could roll the ARI glove up and off, stuffing it into the same pocket as the glasses.
When she'd finally posed herself, he moved in behind her, shifting his gun back to his right, dominant hand to check her over. He became aware that both his hands were trembling slightly with adrenaline, and he made himself slow down, be thorough – this is important, Norman. You don't have anyone but you looking out for you. He worked cautiously, watching her closely for signs that she was going to make a move. There was no long hair to check, and her pants were so form-fitting that there wasn't room for much. Only searching her jacketed torso gave him any trouble. Coat must not be as warm as it feels, he thought, she's shaking.
The items he encountered were clearly innocuous – a notebook, a phone, some keys, other small effects. "All right," he said, "hands behind your back." To his surprise, she sidled forwards away from him, nearly into the wall, and pushed her thin wrists back to be handcuffed. He fumbled a little, one-handed, as he clicked them into place, then dipped his phone out of his pocket. Might as well get some people on the way while I try to secure Mars. Ah, damn, do I even know the address? How could I figure that out? She spoke, interrupting his thoughts as he backed away.
"Can I sit down now?" Her voice was surprisingly small, broken. Is she crying? He frowned.
"Not just yet, Ms. Paige. Give me one minute, and I'll figure out where I can put – "
"D-drop it." Two bodies jerked in surprise, two dark heads turned towards the man on the ground. Mars, still on his belly as though he were crawling under barbed wire, had awkwardly, silently, propped himself up on his left arm. He was pointing a pistol upwards at Jayden in his violently shaking right hand. "Drop your gun."
