I have to apologize for the lack of dialogue in this chapter. Out of necessity, it is all narrative, with only interior dialogue from Lisbon. When you read it you will understand why there is no talking. Please enjoy. The next chapter will be much more dialogue driven.
The Messenger
Chapter 4
Lost and Found
Lisbon was wrapping up her work for the day, and said goodnight to the few remaining agents as they made their way towards the elevator. She had tried to reach Jane after her visit with the doctor, but he wasn't picking up her texts. A flash of lightning illuminated the bullpen and she involuntarily shuddered at the thought of stepping out into the rain. She tried Jane again, this time calling him on his cell phone, hoping to reach him as he arrived at her house ahead of her. The call rang and rang and finally died. Puzzled by this, Lisbon pocketed her phone and considered the possibility that his cell was out of range in this storm if he was still stuck out on the highway. If that was the case, he would be happy when he did manage to come back to her house, to find supper started and a glass of wine waiting for sipping before their meal was ready. Tacos downtown would have to wait for a sunnier day. Jane would understand. Smiling at the thought, Lisbon hurried out of the building intent on making an extra effort in the meal tonight. Jane was the real cook in this relationship, but her skills in the kitchen had rapidly improved with his tutelage. Working as a team most nights, side by side at the kitchen counter, they chatted and laughed and made plans for the future, with a wonderful meal soon completed between them. How she had lived on snacks and beer for so many lonesome years, she couldn't imagine. Lisbon attempted a quick sprint to the parking lot, but without an umbrella, she was soon soaking wet and cold. The thought that before long she would be soaking in a warm bath, sipping wine, and listening to jazz while supper roasted in the oven more than made up for her soggy state.
Traffic was slower than usual so she was more than ready to peel off her damp clothes and put a chicken in oven as soon as she unlocked the front door. A full-bodied red wine glistened in a stemless wine glass on the edge of the bathtub as Lisbon slid into the bubble filled tub, hissing softly at the bite of the hot water. Once fully immersed, she reached over and cradled the glass in her palm, deciding what else to serve with the chicken. Her newfound domesticity made her grin but she couldn't have been more content. How her life had changed the day Patrick had risked arrest to stop her from going to Washington to marry Pike.
Pike. What a disaster in the making that marriage would have been. Teresa shuddered involuntarily at the thought of trying to find marital bliss with that good, but totally wrong man. By the time her wine glass was empty and the bath water was cooling, Teresa had to hurry out of the tub to towel off and start the rest of the meal, as Jane was sure to be waltzing in at any moment. He would be wet and hungry, so she wanted to get everything ready so they could just relax and enjoy each other's company for the rest of the evening. With a glance at the wall clock, Teresa felt another pang of concern that she had not heard a word from Jane in hours. What a frustrating man!
(Desert)
The desert was silent, as the rain had stopped and the torrent of water down the cliff face had finally petered out into a trickle. A light wind had blown the last of the storm clouds away, exposing a million stars illuminating the night sky unimpeded by city light pollution. Nothing moved in the valley except a few cautious wild animals inspecting the storm damage to their homes. Here, close to Austin, the desert was not an endless ocean of sand, but was a hard-scrabble combination of yucca plants, cacti and creosote bushes, mesquite, agave, and ocotillo. What hard and sandy soil was there was now a mushy, muddy quagmire broken up by low lying scrub brush. Once the sun came up, the thin layer of sandy soil would dry up and leave no trace of the deathly storm this evening.
The SUV lay crumpled on its' roof like a black bug stuck on its' back. The four flat tires were still and dripping silently. Anything loose inside the FBI vehicle had been hurled around and now lay either in the bowl of the mud filled ceiling or had been tossed outside of the crumpled wreck and was lost in the maze of shrubs and cacti. Loose papers, tools set free from the inside of the toolbox and the glass lemonade bottle were cast in a wide swath all around the insect-like destroyed car. Inside the vehicle, Jane hung upside down, held in place by his jammed seatbelt. His arms hung limply downward, his hands sitting in the cold pool of mud on the ceiling, his head lolling to the side, resting against the bent window frame. A cold wind blew in the open windows and chilled Jane although he was not aware of anything. He had been trapped in the upside down car for more than an hour now, tucked in below the road above and out of sight from anyone driving by. But no one was driving by on this little used road. An ugly lump and gash parted Jane's hair where the toolbox had hit him, and his foot was jammed up under the brake pedal. Twisted into an unnatural position, it would have sent shards of pain to his brain had Jane been awake. But he was not.
In the distance, a light shone out into the desert, moving in an ever widening arc like a giant eye. It was far away, carried by someone or perhaps mounted on a vehicle of some sort. It slowly made its' way across the still muddy terrain, gradually growing bigger and brighter the closer the light got to the accident site. It took a good 20 minutes but eventually a jeep pulled up to the destroyed SUV and stopped. Two men stepped out of the vehicle and silently made their way over to Jane. A flashlight shone into the SUV, revealing the ashen face of the man trapped inside.
Without a word, the men set to work to pry the door open with canvas gloved hands. It took both of them working together quite some time to get it to open, but eventually it popped free of the bent frame and a pair of large hands reached inside and released the seatbelt holding the injured man. Jane tumbled into the waiting arms of one of the men, who tried to pull him out of the pancaked car. Jane's foot was tightly wedged under the brake pedal, so the other man had to crawl into the car from the passenger side and reach up to the floor above and work to set it free. Jane's ankle was swollen and bloody but no longer trapped.
Grasping his upper body and legs they carried him to their waiting, warm vehicle and laid him gently across the back seat. Once he was seat belted in for safety, they turned their vehicle back towards the horizon and left as silently as they had arrived. Soon, the desert was completely still again.
(Lisbon's Home)
Lisbon reached for her phone and punched in Jane's number again. She was truly worried now. It was not like him to just stay away when they had made plans for dinner. Things were going so well between them now, no more running way, Jane had promised! Teresa now wished she had gone with him to re-visit the crime scene in the desert. Something had happened to Jane while he was out there, she was sure of it. The storm must have changed his plans somehow, but why wouldn't he call now that the weather had cleared? A bad feeling was sitting in the pit of her stomach and Lisbon only grew more concerned as his phone just went to voicemail. She would give him just a little more time, and if he didn't turn up soon with a good story, she was going to call Cho to put out a BOLO for his vehicle.
She hoped it wouldn't be necessary.
(Unknown Medical Facility)
An hour after he was found by his two rescuers, the jeep drove up to a rustic farm gate and the driver pushed a button set into the large wooden beam. The intercom crackled to life and after a few exchanged words, the gate clicked open and the men drove through. The jeep drove down a laneway almost half a mile long, finally arriving at the place of refuge. Standing in the middle of a well manicured clearing was a collection of buildings. Most were dark but a few were fully lit inside and out. Driving up to a separate building around the back of the main building, the driver saw the hospital ahead and pulled in under the covered entryway. Two orderlies were waiting for them and soon Jane was carefully lifted out of the backseat of their jeep and put onto a waiting stretcher. Cautious hands carried him silently into the brightly lit building to a waiting doctor and nurse, who had been notified that a patient was coming in. Both began to work examining Jane, checking for broken bones and head trauma. After a thorough workup, the ankle was found to be badly twisted, but not broken. It would take the same amount of time to heal since so many ligaments and muscles were damaged, but he would need no cast. The head injury was a cause for concern. Jane was still unconscious and bleeding heavily from his scalp wound. A scan would show whether he had a fractured skull. An hour later he was resting comfortably in a warm bed, his chilled body nestled under heated blankets and an IV delivering fluids to stabilize him. His head was swathed in thick white bandages, sutures holding his gash closed. No skull fracture had been found, so now it was just a matter of him waking up and beginning to heal, day by day. It would seem that the worst was over for Jane.
Time would show the exact opposite to be true.
