A Debt Paid Part 4
Sam and Dean turned to Terry, who was struggling to his feet once again.
"Come on lads. Let's get the fuck out of here eh?"
Just as the three of them turned to head back up the river, a shot rang out. The bullet ricocheted off the rock where Sam had been standing just a second ago. It had come from up river.
Instinct and training took over; Dean, Sam, and Terry darted away from the edge of the lake and into the relative safety of the surrounding forest. At least, it was safe for the time being and provided much needed cover. But that cover was on a timer switch, and pretty soon the alarm was going to sound.
"Gordon" Sam growled softly, as they sped deeper into the trees. "It has to be him. The bastard followed us. He must have followed our trail down river."
"Yeah. And he sure is one stubborn sonofabitch." Dean was leading the way, closely followed by Sam, with Terry as tail-end Charlie, keeping an eye out for their assassin at the rear.
"Yeah well," Terry began, and then he stopped moving and came to a halt. "Lads stop a minute and listen." Sam and Dean did as he asked and stood still. They were good at keeping quiet; their Dad had schooled them well in the arts of patience and stealth.
Terry had whirled round silently to face the direction they had come from, and now he was staring intently into the trees. He had opened his mouth which assisted his hearing, and now his brain was filtering out all the sounds of the forest, all the faint rustlings from the odd squirrel burying his nuts, to the sound of those very same creatures that earlier had been getting real friendly with each other…..not just a one night stand then he thought vaguely as he carried on examining each and every sound, until he came to the one that didn't belong there.
He didn't like it.
Without taking his eyes off the trail behind them, Terry signaled to the brothers to move silently closer. When they were standing close enough he placed a hand on Sam and Dean's shoulders, and whispered to them.
"He's at the edge of the forest. The sod must have seen where we went in but he hasn't got the balls to follow just yet. I reckon he'll hang around waiting for us to make a break for it, thinking we'd go for the route along the river. Our mate Gordy's hoping we're gonna drop a bollock". He glanced at the Winchesters to make sure they'd heard him. They too were watching the trail but both nodded. "Right. I'm aiming to make his job just that little bit harder for the bastard. What dya say lads?"
Sam and Dean, on remembering what Gordon had done to them, responded immediately.
"Fine with me." Replied Sam sharply.
"I aint gonna lose no sleep that's for god damn sure." Dean muttered.
Terry nodded. "Follow me."
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Gordon had rounded the final bend before the waterfall with caution, not wanting to give his position away. Silently he dropped to his knees, then to all fours and crawled towards the edge, taking care not to dislodge any stones.
He saw the Winchesters standing out in the open by the lake, but someone else was there. The stranger was no where near as tall as Sam or Dean, but he was wiry and looked fit and strong. He also looked filthy, his hair and clothes covered in the detritus of the river. Training his optic sights on the three men, Gordon stared at the strange man. This guy had come out of the water that much was obvious.
Gordon shrugged off the suspicions that were filling his mind. That could wait 'til later. The main thing here was that Sam and Dean were out in the open and unprotected. It was too good an opportunity to pass up.
He took aim, the cross-hairs lined up with the side of Sam's head, and fired. The trio had chosen that moment to move and so the bullet with Sam Winchester's name on it had hit the rocks where he'd been standing.
A whole host of swear words lined up and marched through Gordon's psychotic mind.
The shot had alerted the three men to his presence, and they'd immediately taken off into the trees.
"Damnit!" He got to his feet and carefully made his way down to the lake, keeping to the shadows as best he could. The last thing he wanted was to track two hardened hunters through the forests. No. He'd try waiting them out for now. The Winchesters weren't likely to try escaping through the trees, especially with a civilian in tow; these forests went on for miles. They'd aim for the river and eventually the Impala.
He scanned the tree-line, patiently watching, waiting.
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Terry and the boys spread out a little, and quietly made their way as close to the edge of the forest as they could. This was tricky. Apart from Terry's knife and Dean's H&K, which was no use over a long range, they were unarmed and up against a nutter with a powerful sniper's rifle and optic sights. Besides, Dean only had the one clip and that was half empty.
Not good.
And now the sun was climbing steadily up the wintry sky, making invisibility down-right impossible.
Terry spotted Gordon. He had hidden himself well behind a rock, and was lying absolutely still whilst staring down the sights of the rifle. The optic sights had caught the dim light, giving Gordon's position away.
The forest was dead silent, as though nature herself had put the world on hold, and the birds and animals were holding their breath, waiting to see what would happen next.
He signaled to the boys to halt, and approached Sam. Standing right behind the young hunter, he held out his arm over Sam's shoulder, pointing straight ahead. He mouthed in his ear "Dya see 'im?"
Sam stared hard and nodded.
Dean sensed his brother's gaze on him, turned to Sam and nodded, letting him know that he'd also spotted Gordon.
The canopy of the forest was so dense that there were no bushes, brambles or bracken growing under it, the sunlight having been virtually shut off. But from time to time there was the occasional patch of sunlight getting through and the men did their level best to avoid those. Silent movement was possible, sure, but achieving such movement without being seen was a problem. The three men had to keep to the ever changing shadows of the trees as the sun gradually slipped round the sky.
Poor old Sam, Terry thought to himself a little later. It really isn't his fucking day.
Terry had moved out again and motioned to the boys to move forward on his mark. Unfortunately, Sam had trodden on a twig.
Which snapped. Loudly.
There was a loud shot, followed by Sam crying out as he dropped to the forest floor, groaning in pain.
"Sam!" Dean ran to his brother. "Sammy!" He had effectually given his position away but he no longer cared. He hoped and prayed that it wasn't serious, just a flesh wound may be. But as he reached his brother his heart sank. There was blood on Sam's thigh. Way too much blood. He pulled Sam's hand away from the bullet wound to get a better look.
Terry raced over. "Give me your gun, grab your brother and fucking move mate!" He whispered roughly. Normally there was no way on god's green earth that Dean would have given his gun to the guy, but he had little choice. He forced Sam to his feet, whereupon he buckled but Dean caught him. Placing Sam's arm around his neck and holding him up, he quickly ran in the direction Terry had indicated, dragging his groaning brother along with him.
They moved deeper in to the forest with Terry following on behind.
When they figured they'd gone far enough to get out of range, they stopped for a breather, but really it was to take stock of Sam's injury.
Dean sat his brother down and gently leaned him against a tree. The Englishman took up position in front of the Winchesters, his back to them, gun pointing steadily back towards the tree line.
Sam was struggling to keep his eyes open as blood continued to flow hastily from his leg. Dean undid his belt and wrapped it around Sam's thigh just above the wound as a tourniquet. These were a bad idea, he knew, but they had little choice given their present predicament. He tightened the belt hoping that they'd be able to find help before Sam's leg dropped off from lack of blood and oxygen.
Sweat broke out on Sam's forehead, the pain a fierce burning sensation that threatened to consume him. His brother tightened the belt again and Sam stifled a gasp.
"I know it hurts Sammy, but I've gotta stop the bleeding." Dean glanced in despair at the agony etched on his little brother's face. He reached out and gently brushed a few stray locks of hair out of Sam's eyes, noting the confusion, fear and exhaustion in them. "It's gonna be ok. Understand me? You with me bro?" Dean took off his top shirt and tied it over the wound, attempting to minimize any chances of infection.
Sam nodded and felt his eyes closing. Dean shook him roughly. "No going to sleep. We need you awake ok? Awake, good. Sleep, bad."
"Bitch" he added in an attempt to illicit a response from his sibling. He was soon rewarded.
"Jerk" Sam muttered.
Although, he really couldn't blame the kid for wanting to sleep.
He'd been kidnapped, fallen off a bridge – been lucky to survive – taken a hair-raising ride down one of the worlds biggest water slides – been lucky to survive that too – and with barely any rest, had gone for a fucking long jog along a river bank, and then been choked half to death by their one and only ally. Following that he'd come dangerously close to having his brains blown out, and now he had a hole in his leg from which was pouring what appeared to be every drop of blood in his body.
Basically, Sam's usual run of bad luck had taken a turn for the worse and now he was busy cruising up shit creek without a certain rowing implement.
Just fucking great.
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Gordon was on a roll. He just knew he'd hit Sam; he'd heard Sam's cry of pain clearly enough, but he wasn't sure where he'd hit him. It would be enough to slow them down and that's what counted. If he'd been lucky enough then may be Sam was dead.
Doubtful though. Even Gordon wasn't so fucked in the head that he didn't realize that.
He reloaded and waited for his next opportunity. Which didn't come.
They must have retreated further back into the forest to regroup. No doubt the civilian was shitting himself by this point; in fact, Gordon was kinda surprised he hadn't heard panicked arguments echoing from the trees by now.
He decided to move closer.
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Terry sized things up. Sam's leg wound looked serious and he was losing too much blood. The bullet had to come out before infection set in, and that wouldn't be long. They had no first aid kit, half a clip of rounds, a knife and fuck all else. Not even any water.
He came to a decision.
"Dean, get your brother as far into the forest as you can. I'll be back in a bit."
Dean stared at him. "Why? What's your plan?"
Terry grinned. "I reckon our friend out there carries a first aid kit, and I'm going to ask him nicely to lend it to us."
"Man that's fucking crazy. You won't get within a few hundred metres before that bastard takes you out!" Dean replied in amazement. He'd known the SAS weren't entirely on the same planet as the rest of the sane world, but this was fucking out there! He grabbed Terry's arm and spoke in a low voice. "Gordon's a psycho but he doesn't know who you are yet. He may let you go…" Even as he said it he knew that was crap.
Terry's grin grew into a real shit-eating one. "He won't get the chance mate."
Sam let out another groan as his body started shaking. Shock was setting in and the shivering was causing him even more pain. Dean turned to him immediately and murmured a few encouraging words, placing his hand on Sam's forehead. When he turned back to Terry, he was met with an empty forest. Dean hadn't even heard him leave.
Shit.
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Terry had done what he was well trained to do. He disappeared.
He smiled as he made his way silently through the trees. It was time for the friendly introductions, and Terry was pretty sure just how friendly it was going to get.
He came to a stop and watched patiently until he saw what he was looking for.
Ah……
There was Gordon. As Terry had predicted the bastard had moved closer to the tree line.
Nice one mate.
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Gordon was considering another move towards the trees when he heard the noise. It was the sound of something thudding to the ground off to his right.
He was puzzled. There's no way Dean would have left Sam on his own, unless Sam hadn't been that badly wounded. There was always that possibility. But what about the civilian……
The suspicions that he'd put on hold earlier came back to haunt him.
There had been another car on the bridge, parked just further back……
He'd nearly fallen when the railing gave way and he'd let Sam go……
He'd just about heard the splash as Sam hit the water…..
This was the point where his subconscious really gave up the goods.
There had been another splash shortly afterwards…..
Gordon froze. There was the usual noise of the wilderness, the eagles crying as they rode the thermals, more sounds of animal love being made.
This was also the point that a low and malevolent sounding voice made itself known.
Right in Gordon's left ear.
"'Allo Mister Gordon…."
He felt a sharp pain in the back of his head, and then it all went black.
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Dean was talking to Sam in low whispers. It had been a struggle moving on through the trees and now they were resting. Sam was still in shock but its grip on him was loosening.
"Hey! Stay awake godamnit! You want me to kick your ass? 'Cos I'll do it, gun shot wound or no gun shot wound."
Sam smiled and opened his eyes slowly. "N-no w-way. I'm t-taller than you."
"Yeah, but I'm better looking and everyone knows the better looking guy always wins." Dean grinned smugly, smothering his fears for Sam's life.
Sam wasn't fooled for a second. "Dean?" he whispered after a while.
"Yeah?"
"This….this is bad, isn't it?"
Dean almost dropped his grin, but just managed to keep hold of it. "Nah. Not a problem little bro. It's just you being a girl. Hell, remember that bout a flu you had that year? You were convinced it was pneumonia."
"Dude, that was you. I actually had pneumonia." Sam replied sluggishly, but Dean noted that his voice was getting stronger as the conversation progressed.
"Nu-huh!"
"Yuh-huh!"
"You keep on arguing and I'm gonna publish that photo on the internet."
"What photo? That one with me asleep and you stuck a spoon in my mouth? Man that was lame!"
"Not that one." Dean grinned again. "You remember that time you hit the tequila in that hotel? Got real pissed?..." His voiced trailed off.
Sam glanced at his older brother suspiciously. "Dean! What did you do?"
The smug grin was becoming annoying now. "You fell outa bed in the middle of the night and…. " Dean raised a finger in order to silence his brother "…and, still half-asleep, you pretty much took a standing leap into the bathroom, puked and fell asleep with your face practically round the U-bend." Dean's smugness radiated off him in waves, as he nodded. "I got a picture of that."
Sam, in spite of the pain, glared at his older brother. "You bastard."
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Terry stepped back and examined his handiwork.
"Hurhurhurhur….."
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After a little more bickering the Winchesters fell silent. Dean was closely watching his brother, trying to keep him awake with a few jabs and pokes, so he might have been forgiven for his lack of attention.
There was a polite cough from behind the tree that Sam was leaning against, and Terry's face peered round at them, his eyebrows waggling up and down.
Dean was incredulous.
How did the bastard do that?
"You blokes ready to roll? I got something to show you." Terry offered Dean a hand and hauled him to his feet. Between them they managed to drag Sam up and held him securely in their grip.
After what seemed like the trek of a fucking lifetime, especially for Sam, Terry came to a stop. He gave a slow sweep of his arm and a little bow, inviting the brothers to step around the next tree.
And what greeted them was certainly…..a sight.
Sam and Dean just stared.
And then they started laughing.
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Gordon was just coming to with a groan. His head hurt and he wanted to reach up to check on it, but found that he couldn't. His hands were tied securely above his head and he appeared to be face down on something that had the texture of a rhino's arse. Then he quickly realized a few things.
One: he couldn't really groan because something has been forced into his mouth – and that something was tasting pretty foul. It took him a short time to figure out it was one of his own socks. He'd recognize that taste anywhere.
And two: he wasn't laying face down. He was standing up.
And, finally, three: it wasn't a rhino's arse his face was up against. It was a tree. And there was a rather cold draft around his nether regions.
What he had no way of realizing was the reason for the laughter that had abruptly started up behind him.
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Dean and Sam were practically bent double, in the agony-throws of some severe sniggering when they heard Gordon groan.
Terry leaned casually against a tree and laughed with them.
"Man that is just beautiful!" Dean nearly had tears running down his face.
Sam tried to regain some composure. "That's just….immature…" he could barely get the word out before he started laughing again.
Because Sergeant Morgan had taken his interrogation training just a little bit further.
It certainly wasn't regulation, and he would have been court martialled and dropped kicked out of the Regiment so fast his feet wouldn't have touched.
But, Dean was right. It was beautiful. And fitting.
Gordon was tied to a tree, face first, with his pants round his ankles.
On his bare arse had been written in block capitals the legend
"FUCK HERE".
With a little arrow pointing in a direction not usually mentioned in polite company.
Yeah. That was fucking beautiful.
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Hope that one made you laugh as much as it did me. The worse thing is, it's partly based on truth...
Next episode to be worked on...
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