Chapter 4

OUTSIDE, DON watched Liz with increasing concern. The timid and frightened woman before him didn't sit right with the bold and sassy person he knew she could be. Hell, there'd been a time when she had been his rock. He missed that about her, the way they had leaned on each other for support. At the time they'd been working so closely together that their relationship had been convenient, more than anything else. What he and Liz had shared was purely physical, Don thought as he remembered the familiar stirring of lust he'd felt earlier as she'd sprinted across the parking lot.

He'd watched in appreciation as Liz's body shifted under her Japanese wrap. That woman was born to move, Don had thought wistfully before stamping on the ache he felt below as heat spread throughout his body. "What's going on?" Liz had demanded when she'd reached them, and the distress in her voice had been more than palpable, causing Don to flush with guilt.

Don wasn't the only one who was concerned about Liz. Nikki and Tim had been fussing over Liz like a mother hen since Liz had revealed that Colby was defenceless. Remembering the way Liz's face had drained of colour, Don cursed internally for the zillionth time. If there was one thing Don counted on Colby for, it was his legendary distrust of LA. One night with Liz, and like any man, Colby had caved to the demands of a hot woman, and the possibility of sex, Don thought bitterly. He knew it wasn't rational to be jealous of Colby, he loved Robin, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

It's because I'm the SAIC, it's on me to be responsible, Don tried to rationalise as he reached to answer his cell. "Eppes," he said.

"Don," Robin's voice sounded in his ear, "I just heard! How's Colby? Do you know anything?"

"We don't know much," Don told Robin, blushing as he remembered Liz's body moving under the wrap and wishing he was touching the filmy softness beneath his fingers. Robin was too conservative to wear anything that sexy. "Colby and the others are safe for the moment. The hostage negotiation team are having a hard time getting the suspect to pick the phone up. He's very tense and it's putting everyone on edge," Don rubbed his face roughly in annoyance.

"He's going to be ok," Robin said soothingly to Don, making him feel guiltier.

It wasn't like Robin was boring. It was just that she was black and white to Liz's technicolor. Everyone looked plain next to Liz. Not that it mattered. Don wouldn't trade Robin for anything. Robin was beautiful, smart, and aggressive and Don loved her for it. Very few saw the Robin that Don knew and loved. She was thoughtful, caring and loving, not an 'Ice Bitch' as she was known by the other attorneys. "We haven't spoken since the incident in my office," Don's voice cracked as he opened up to Robin, after all, she was the woman he loved, and the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The mere thought made him dizzy for a moment. "What if something happens-?"

"Don't think like that!" Robin cried half sympathetic and half appalled, "If you were held hostage who would you want to be there for you?"

"Colby," Don replied reluctantly.

"Well, Colby feels the same about you," Robin's voice was solid in its stubbornness, "You're like a brother to him. He's family. If anyone can get him home safe you can."

Don closed his eyes and drank in her reassurances, wishing he could believe them, and more than anything wishing she was there with him. "That's just it...I don't know if I can," Don told her sincerely, "You know how much I botched up the last case," Don's voice strained on the word, "That assignment changed him. It's different between us now, and I don't know if we can comeback from this..."

Don had only been the Special Agent in Charge for a little over two months, and he could feel the pressure mounting as the AD breathed down his neck for reassurances. Don felt like an exhibit in the zoo, so many people watched his every move these days that his office was beginning to feel more like a cage than a place of business. Some people were encouraging, but it felt as if the rest were just waiting for him to fail. The last SAIC had been extremely popular, and Don had wanted nothing more than to be as good a leader, if not a better one. It was definitely large shoes to fill, and for the first time Don felt powerless. His world was slipping away from him and Don was helpless to stop it.

"Colby plays his cards close to his vest," Robin broke through Don's thoughts of self-pity, "there's something else bothering Colby, but once he's dealt with it he will forgive you."

Don cast his mind back to that day in his office, Colby had come in and told Don he'd wanted out. They had enough to convict the suspect, but not for the crime that Don had been holding out for. The AD wanted results, and the pressure he put on Don was phenomenal. If we could just take down LA's biggest gun trafficking ring, and take out the cop killer bullets in one go, Don had thought, the AD wouldn't regret promoting me.

It was weak and Don was ashamed that he'd taken it out on Colby, but it had been a long time since he'd gone over to his brother's house, and Don felt so alone. He was too tired to share any real conversation with Robin, and he was definitely too tired for sex. Don knew it was pathetic, but what he really longed for was to share a cold beer with his father, to just relax and watch a game.

Charlie had left for England with Amita a month and a half ago, and Don missed his brother more than he would ever admit. "What if he doesn't come back?" Don had asked Robin one night when neither one could sleep. He'd held Robin tightly as if she could disappear at any moment, and her voice had come steady and strong from the darkness that enveloped him. "Charlie and Amita are coming home. They'd miss this too much," Robin had assured Don, and for that night it had been enough. But the fear was still there, and Don was worried that without the FBI cases, there would be nothing to keep Charlie close again.

So instead of relaxing with his father, and bickering with his nerdy brother, Don found his days were spent chained to his desk, consumed by a mountain of paper work that had been swamping his desk since the old SAIC had resigned, and Don had taken over. Some nights he was so exhausted he fell asleep at his desk and in that moment, with Colby sat across from Don, demanding an out of the investigation, Don let all the anger, all the resentment, and all the pressure that had been slowly building up, out on Colby.

"THERE IS NO OUT! Not until we retrieve those BULLETS! I have fifty other cases that need MY urgent attention and an AD with a bloody ego problem. All I do all day is slave away in this pissing office! Do you know how much I wish I could be out in the field like you? SUCK IT UP GRANGER! AND GET ME THOSE FUCKING BULLETS!," he'd told Colby whose eyes had crackled with barely concealed contempt.

Don never usually swore and didn't like being regarded as the bad guy, but with fifty other cases all stacked precariously on his desk vying for his attention, Don realised he just didn't care. Don would have loved to be out of the office and undercover, he couldn't understand why Colby didn't and frankly had no time to contemplate Colby's reluctance.

Eventually he had asked Colby to just get out. He was the SAIC now, and he had more pressing concerns than Colby's apparent lack of interest in this case. Like why he was snapping at, and alienating a close friend, whom he cared for like family. Later that night, Don had flopped into bed next to a sleeping Robin, and stared at the ceiling remembering the way Colby's jaw had tightened, his body ramrod straight, disgust in his eyes.

"Colby hasn't talked to me since I demanded that he stay undercover," Don told Robin, "he reached out to me and I got angry at him. We secured a conviction this morning but he remained impassive. He's angry, what if I don't get a chance to tell him that I was wrong."

"He knows dear," Robin said sadly, "Look, I have court now, but I want regular updates. I'm going to leave my phone with Gill, and he'll come in and pass me notes. It's a simple drug bust, I should be out soon, and then I'm coming down there."

"Don?" Nikki asked, putting her hand on his arm to get his attention.

"I have to go. I love you," Don said, hanging up before she could respond, and looked down at the small screen in front of him. He stared regretfully at Colby's small, cautious face. Colby was angry at Don, probably because of the activities he'd been forced to participate in during the previous two months. What else can I do? We got a damn conviction didn't we? Don thought stubbornly to himself. But at what cost? His mind added treacherously. He felt guilty as hell, but Don could live with that. What he couldn't live with was men pointing guns at his unarmed agents.

A couple hours had gone by since they had first arrived at the shop, and the hostage team had tried the phone twice unsuccessfully. Sam Jackson was refusing to come out and play. Never mind, Don thought, we have your every move on camera. Don was knackered, but his fear kept him wide awake as he watched the black and white form. He recognised Sam Jackson from the mug shot Nikki had shown them earlier.

Two hours passed in silence, until Jackson suddenly realised he was never going to get the car he had demanded. Jackson stopped pacing back and forth between the phone and the door. Don was relieved because Jackson's pacing was making Tim edgy. Don had already had to talk Tim down from storming the place once, and he was too tired to do it again. Instead Don watched scared with the others as Jackson pointed the gun right at Colby and said "And I won't let anyone stand in my way!"

To which Colby replied, "Who's standing in your way? No one here. Not the women, children, and us. Think of your wife, what's she going to say when she hears about this on the ten o'clock news?"

SHUT UP! Don had wanted to scream at Colby but instead of getting angry, Don watched Jackson sag in defeat. "She's dead," he'd said with a voice so tiny and vulnerable even Don had felt a little sympathy for him.

"I'm sorry," Colby had replied, voicing Don's own sentiments.

"They took her from me," Jackson replied equally defeated.

Instead of replying, Don had watched Colby share a conspiratorial nod with the man opposite him. Hello? Don thought enquiringly. "Get me a list of the people inside with Colby. I want to know who that man is." Don told Nikki before returning to the drama before him.

*break*

AN HOUR AFTER Sam had revealed his wife was dead, Colby watched the old man's movements slow, and become sluggish from the heat that now engulfed them. Looking around him, Colby could see the heat visibly taking its effect on the other hostages as well. Cheryl's face was still as pale as before, nevertheless a bright and burning red now marred her smooth cheeks, from the temperature of the room. The mother was sweating profusely, and every now and again, Colby watched as she dabbed at her head and chest with a tissue in an attempt to remove some. The daughter looked worse for wear, her black hair was matted to her heart shaped face, and the sweat left thick streaks down her face, ruining her pale make-up. As for the detective, Colby watched him struggle valiantly with the heat in his suit jacket in the attempts to keep his pistol concealed.

The room stank of stale sweat, none of which was Colby's, whom had learnt to deal with worse heat in Afghanistan. He did remove his tie, which had been bothering him for a while. He didn't like to wear them too often, but for Liz he had dressed up, especially since she had as well. Colby tried not to think about the tight fitting wrap of Liz's, he was already hot enough.

"Why's it so hot?" Sam's whine broke the eerie silence as he complained about the heat for what felt like the fiftieth time that hour. Colby watched silently as Sam undid another button on his shirt to reveal ample white chest hair, his worn and battered jacket lay forgotten in a pile by his feet.

"It's the cops," the detective told Sam, "It's a technique they use." It was the first time Colby had heard the detective's voice properly. It was rough from a lifetime of abuse from cigarettes.

"A technique?" Sam seemed genuinely surprised that the cops could be controlling their environment from the outside.

"They turn the heat up and cut all the electricity except the phone. The only way out of this coffin is if they let you out," Colby replied without caring. It had been three long hours with a psychopath and four quiet hostages. All Colby wanted to do was get out of this shop, and pull Liz into his warm embrace. Her small voice on the phone had seemed so far away, and all Colby could think was at least she's safe. He didn't know what he would have done if she'd come into the shop with him.

"They have no choice but to let me out," Sam responded confidently as he collapsed on the floor in exhaustion, reclaiming Colby and the detective's attention. He'd been pacing most of the three hours, "I have you guys."

"Ha," Colby stifled a bitter laugh, "You know what they call us Sam? Hmmm? Two words: Collateral. Damage." Cheryl's small hand tightened in his grasp at his statement and he mentally kicked himself.

"They wouldn't do anything," Sam replied, but he seemed less confident this time as he looked from the detective to Colby and back again.

"You don't get it do you?" the detective chimed in resentfully as he watched Sam put the gun down next to him so he could fan his face with both hands. "They have SWAT everywhere. They will only wait so long. The second they feel they can no longer negotiate with you they will storm this place, hostages or no hostages."

"They wouldn't dare!" Sam looked stunned.

"They would. Four deaths would be a terrible shame, but the news will be singing of the gunman who murdered four innocent people. Not the police's inability to negotiate with him. Is that how you want to be remembered Sam? As a murder?" Colby replied his tone even but hard.

"No!" Sam shouted outraged. Grabbing the gun he came over to where the detective and Colby were sitting. "Because they will give me the car or I'll shoot." Sam had the gun in the detectives face now and for a moment Colby watched him freeze and his eyes widen. Then he looked over Sam's shoulder at Colby. Sam followed the detectives gaze and frowned. Suddenly, Colby realised Sam wasn't looking at him but the barely concealed cell on the counter behind him. "What's that?" He asked incredulous as he picked the cell up and examined it. When he realised the phone was on he threw it against the floor in anger, where it shattered into a thousand pieces. "Who put it there?" Sam demanded of his hostages angrily as he waved the gun dangerously.

Serve and protect, Colby thought dryly as he stood up and shouted, "I did!" and drew Sam's wrath upon himself.

"YOU!" Sam's face turned purple, it wasn't a pretty colour on him. "Well then Colby," Sam spat at him, "We seem to have a little problem don't we?"

"NO! IT WAS ME!" The detective declared just as loudly, and Colby watched the colour drain out of Sam's face when he realised the detective had drawn a gun on him.

"Wait!" Colby said coming around to stand between Sam and the detective. He guessed he had a couple of minutes to convince Sam to put the gun down before SWAT flooded the place and started putting holes in the furniture, or before Sam started putting holes in the hostages, whichever came first. "Listen, just listen to me ok? I understand. You're doing this for your wife. They took her from you and then when you thought you were losing her again you panicked-"

"Get out the way Colby," the detective overrode him.

"I had no choice," Sam appealed to Colby as he tightened his grip on the gun. "They said I was done. Forty five years and it's over because I can't make a stupid payment. Is that justice?"

Colby raced to head Sam off, "No, it's not, but I, I understand!"

Sam looked sceptically at Colby whilst trying to inch around him so his gun aimed at the detective. "How could you understand? How could any of you possibly understand?" he shouted at Colby.

"Because I know your pain, I've been there myself." Stretching his hands out imploringly, Colby took a deep breath and said the hardest sentence he'd ever had to say in his life. A sentence he'd never admitted to anyone else, a sentence that whispered incessantly in his dreams without reprieve. One he had never said aloud before tonight, "I know because I too lost my wife. She died seven years and two months ago in Afghanistan."

It had been harder for Colby to say than he had ever believed it could be, but he was glad it was out there. He felt as if a weight had been lifted. "I'm sorry-" the detective and Sam said together, neither one meeting his eyes.

But Colby hardly heard them; now that he had started he couldn't stop. The truth felt so refreshing after the last two months. "She was in my regiment and she gave her life to protect mine. She was kind and honest and they took her and brutally murdered her in front of me," Colby voice shook with repressed anger. "Recently I fell in love and I was worried that what I have with this new woman would override what few memories I have left of my wife, but those memories are always going to be there. I learnt to deal with the fact that there is no war without casualties. Sooner or later you have to stop hating, stop fighting and live your life. It's what they would have wanted. It's a house, man. Are you really choosing to murder these innocent people over a house?"

"Don't you dare try and speak for my wife! You didn't know her, she...she meant everything to me-" Sam screamed as big fat tears poured down his face.

"-she was your world right? Without her life was pointless? My mother always said when my father died that it was the little things we tend to miss the most, the stuff that makes them who they were. My wife," Colby put his hand on his chest with a wry smile on his face, "I miss her impish smile the most. The way her eyes lit up just because I walked in the room, the way her laughter sounded like silver bells that rang for no one else but me. She hated Afghanistan. The fighting and the death, it changes people you know? Hell, it changed me. But Hannah, she loved me anyway, even when I couldn't love myself. The war tore my family apart and then I met Hannah. She was my family, and the insurgents beat her to death in front of me whilst I lay crushed by the weight of a Humvee, trying to pretend I was dead. But mostly wishing that I was."

Colby watched as Sam wavered between uncertain and horrified. "But if you could have her back? What would you do to hold onto even the smallest part of her? What if you knew a bank was trying to steal the last piece you had of her and money was the only way to keep it. Only you don't have any money. What would you have done?"

"Not what you're doing. I wanted revenge and I even went back to Afghanistan to get it. My brother never forgave me for that. But eventually you learn that no one can take your memories. Hannah lives on in me as your wife lives on in you. Not a house and I would never steal nor threaten innocent lives to keep it either. Hand yourself in," Colby pleaded, "All you've done is hold people against their will for a few hours. Let them all go! Hand yourself in, and the police will be lenient. So far you have done nothing wrong or at least not so wrong that you can't be forgiven." But Colby might as well have been talking Greek.

"No, you're wrong I can't be forgiven," Sam said, ignoring Colby and talking directly to the detective instead, "Put your gun down now!"

"You first!" the detective replied, playing hard ball.

"Put the gun down...or...I'll shoot," Sam repeated as he swung his gun on Cheryl, who screamed in protest.

"Will everyone put their guns down," Colby begged Sam and the detective, and watched as Sam's resolve began to weaken, and he lowered his gun an inch. "Now, let's walk out of here together!" Colby tried to appeal to the detective to lower his own weapon as well, but it was too late and Colby knew it deep inside. He could hear the beginnings of SWAT breaking the small door in, and apparently so did Sam.

"It's too late. I'm sorry, just so sorry. Please make sure they know how sorry I am. I'm coming Isabel," Sam called out as his grip tightened on the gun and Colby watched the detective's eyes widen as Sam raised the gun again to point it directly at him.

Quick to react, Colby jumped on the detective, dragging him to the ground as pain seared throughout his body and the sound of a gunshot exploded, causing the room to go quiet. Colby didn't know how he'd gotten on the floor; all he knew was pain that contrasted strangely with the softness beneath him.

Trying his hardest to get up, Colby howled in anguish as the pain swamped his senses, causing his arms to cave beneath him, and collapsed on top of the detective once more. Wrenching his eyes open, Colby took in the carnage around him.

The small door to the shop stood crookedly on its hinges, shattered glass lay everywhere. Next to Colby lay Sam's motionless body, blood seeped from Sam's chest and pooled on the ground around him, congealing with Colby's own blood. The detective was struggling now, and Colby gritted his teeth against the throbbing pain as the detective jostled him in an attempt to extradite himself from the pool of blood.

Colby's ears rang till he realised Liz was screaming beside him. With Don and Nikki's help they got the detective out and laid Colby back on his front before applying pressure to his wound, causing Colby to scream out in pain. Wheezing slightly Colby tried to breathe deeply, and fill his lungs with air but the effort almost caused him to pass out. Yanking his eyes open for the second time in what felt like an eternity, Colby was rewarded with Liz's face, but when it came into focus he noticed the tears streaming down her smooth cheeks, and tried to brush them away clumsily.

"It's going to be fine! You're going to be fine," she kept saying as she cradled his head on her lap, stroking his cheek. For a moment Colby let himself sink into the warmth and comfort of her hand on his cheek, blotting out the pain and darkness that was ebbing at his consciousness.

Grabbing her hand, Colby winced as the paramedics went to work on him, but they seemed so far away. Everything seemed so far away. He was no longer aware of the dozens of SWAT officers, all waiting with baited breath, as the paramedics rolled him onto a gurney. He wasn't even aware of Liz screaming next to him, all he knew was the pain and it flooded his consciousness causing his eyes to flutter closed and his body to go slack. "No!" she screamed again, this time swatting at Colby's shoulder. "You stay awake, you hear me? Wake up, God damn it!"

But it was too late; Colby could feel his whole body going cold, and started to shiver uncontrollably. "He's going into shock," he heard a male voice call out, but to whom Colby didn't care. He was just so numb, and he could feel the black ebbing around his consciousness. "Colby! Come on Col, stay with me, you have to stay awake!" A female voice shivered with him in the darkness. Colby could hear the panic in the voice, but he couldn't hold on to it, he was just so tired.

Sighing internally, Colby tried to remember where he was as a piercing siren brought him back slightly, and momentarily starved off the darkness that threatened to take him. "Come back to me Col," the female voice coaxed in his ear. But for the life of him he couldn't understand why. Slowly the exhaustion weakened his resolve and Colby felt himself letting go. "He's crashing," The male voice yelled as Colby felt himself being lifted further and further away into the darkness that now consumed him.