Author: Cropper
Pairing: GSR
Rating: Mature for Profanity, Graphic Imagery, Adult Situations
Disclaimer: I do not own them but I wish I did. I mean no harm or infringement and will return everyone to their rightful owners when I finish, I promise.
Summary: A Sniper has returned from prison seeking vengeance on those responsible for his incarceration.
A/N: Thank you, idreamedmusic, for the beautiful banner. Smacky30, Cincoflex, Domo Arigato and anyone else who might have done a beta read or just kicked around ideas with me? You ladies are all awesome and I am deeply appreciative of your efforts. LosingInTranslation provided invaluable assistance with the medical terminology and is responsible for the wound track diagrams. atrueparrothead is responsible for the fantastic video trailer on the index page and has completed another that will be posted with Chapter Six. And finally, a huge thanks to Cheryl, Lisa, Cindy, Michelle, Muriel and Kaye. They are my constants.
CHAPTER FIVE
They were travelers in the night
They're the ones who held the light
And they whispered it's alright
And the
Promise came
And there are those who rode the line
They're the keepers of the wine
It all happens in good time
And the
Promise rang
The Day the River Sang
Brass and Catherine were holed up in a conference room at the police station, staring mournfully at the piles of cardboard boxes crammed full of old, dusty case files. Warrick was still working the Sniper case and had been temporarily assigned to the Federal task force. Nick and Greg alternated between working the drive-by shooting at the Stratosphere and visiting the hospital to keep everyone updated in the event that there was any change in Grissom's condition. They were also keeping a very close eye on Justin and offering what moral support they could for Sara.
"God," Catherine exclaimed, blowing her hair out of her face as she looked at the neatly stacked cartons with dismay. "There must be a couple thousand files here."
Brass looked at her. "I guess the Under Sheriff didn't see fit to have clerical pull only the ones involving Grissom and me." He rolled his eyes as he motioned to the files. "Hope you don't have any plans tonight. We're going to be here awhile."
"And, you're not even positive we're searching the right year?"
"Gil wasn't real specific. He said about thirteen years ago, give or take."
Catherine looked around, trying to decide on a plan of action. "All right, here's what we're going to do. Anything that you and Gil worked together goes here. Anything you worked without Gil goes here. Everything Gil worked without you, here. The rest of it just chuck back in the box. Sound good?"
"Whatever. Look, let's just get this over with. The sooner we find the file, the sooner we catch this bastard." He paused for a moment, his tone decidedly softer when he spoke again. "Any word from the hospital?"
"No," said Catherine, her voice barely above a whisper. "Nick checked in a little while ago and said there was no change. Gil is still in a coma and Sara is still sitting with him."
"How's Sara holding up?"
Catherine just shrugged. "Hard to tell. She won't talk to anyone but Grissom and won't leave his side."
"Do I detect some hostility there, Catherine?"
"Yeah, you probably do but I've got my reasons, okay?"
Brass returned her shrug with one of his own. "Sure. Whatever."
And the day I first found you
That's when I
heard the clue
And I knew that
it was true
When the Promise came
And we stood beneath the trees
Where the Vision was to be
And it was only you and me
And the Promise came
The Day the River Sang
The
Day the River Sang
Sara sat sprawled in a chair by Grissom's bed, one hand tightly grasping and stroking his larger lifeless one, the other holding the open ring box. She was mesmerized by the shards of light dancing off the stone in the muted glow of the sterile room. The rainbow refractions added a flash of welcome color, relieving the somber monotony of grays and silvers and whites. Grissom had excellent taste, she thought, gazing upon the two-carat oval diamond nestled in a simple platinum setting. She knew him well enough to understand that this stunning ring was tangible evidence of not only his love for her, but also a three dimensional snapshot of her reflection through his eyes…quietly beautiful with an understated elegance, qualities he once told her few men could ignore, let alone resist.
Sara released Grissom's cool, dry hand long enough to pluck the ring from its velvet bed and slide it onto her finger. She swiped at a lone tear trickling down her cheek before renewing her physical connection with her lover. She scooted her chair closer and laid her head gently on his thigh, trying not to hurt him but desperately craving more contact than holding his limp fingers could possibly provide. She sniffled once before speaking in a trembling voice.
"God, Baby, how did things get so screwed up? I had no idea you were going to do this. I would've said yes, you know that, don't you? And if you want to wake up and ask me right now I'll say yes. Whenever, wherever, Gris, the answer will always be yes."
Sara stole a glance at the monitors, hoping for some sort of response. Regardless of the incomplete and often conflicting data concerning awareness and responsiveness of coma patients, she knew that he could, on some level, hear and understand what she was saying. She glared at the neon lines marching patiently across the LCD screens, willing them to change, to show her something, anything, a small hiccup in the monotonous patterns to signify that he was hearing and comprehending her naked confession.
Her head dropped back to his thigh, nuzzling against the rough cotton blanket as she struggled to find the appropriate words to convey all that she was feeling. "Last night…I don't even know how to explain last night. I know you probably saw it as a rejection; but that's not what happened. I totally lost track of time and forgot we had a date…that we were supposed to celebrate our anniversary. It's just that we got really involved with this one particular part of the project that we couldn't get to work right. We were so caught up in finding a solution that everything got away from me. It was nothing intentional Baby…just one of those things like when you get all consumed by a case and sometimes forget to come home. It was a mistake and I'm so sorry."
"I don't know, Gris, I mean, I know you're totally behind me and I honestly couldn't do this without your support. I am not just talking financial support here, either. If you weren't around for me to bounce ideas off of or to listen to me blow off steam and, and, to just be there for me, I'd probably be nuts by now. I've been pretty selfish, I guess. I've taken you for granted way too much. I haven't been very good at making time for you and giving you the attention you deserve. I know you are always going to be here for me and figured that we could always talk or whatever later, when things slowed down a little."
She sat up in the chair, pressing her lips to his knuckles; her kiss a benediction. Her free hand hovered shakily over his chest, needing so badly to feel the steady pulses of his heart but afraid to touch. His torso was so damaged, so destroyed that she was unwilling to risk even a fleeting brush against his bare skin for fear she that she would unknowingly inflict the smallest sliver of pain.
"Problem is, 'later' never seems to come these days, does it? There has always been one more thing to do and time has just slipped away. I have been so preoccupied with finishing my degree so we could get on with our lives that I forgot to enjoy living the life I have right now with you. And my life with you is all I have ever wanted or needed. The rest is just window dressing"
Sara's lean fingers gently brushed through his hair as her thoughts traveled back, to the day they met, the years of frustration and longing that were now behind them and the terrible accident that could have stolen him away but ultimately pulled them together. They had been inseparable from the moment she climbed into that twisted heap of metal on the side of a lonely mountain to just hold him and dry his tears; to finally love him the way she had always wanted but he had been too frightened to allow.
Now, with the changes in both of their lives, they had grown apart, or so he thought. She really could not blame him for feeling that way; she had not made much of an effort in the past several weeks to allay his fears. She honestly believed he had more faith in her and their relationship than to believe that she was moving on and leaving him behind. However, a nearly disastrous discussion the week before the shooting had glaringly illustrated the depth of his insecurities and self-doubt. Grissom, despite the confidence he had found within himself as the bond between the two of them had strengthened, was still very much the terrified five-year-old boy who truly believed that one day he would somehow disappoint her so much that she would finally give up, walk away, and leave him all alone.
We were blessed, we were bruised
We were taken
by the news
And oh oh oh
When the
Promise came
The Day the
River Sang
The Day the River Sang
Sunday afternoons were generally lazy affairs, days spent together tending to minor household chores, doing the weekly grocery shopping or just lazing about enjoying each other's company. Lately, however, these quiet times had been pushed aside to accommodate Sara's studies. She spent most of her time hunched over her laptop researching or compiling information for her group project while Grissom generally holed up in his study in order to give her the space and silence she needed to complete her tasks.
On this particular Sunday, Sara sat working at the kitchen table, collating data from her group Environmental Physics project, her frustration mounting as they afternoon dragged on. Everyone, it seemed, had decided to call for a lengthy chat about nothing in particular, just to say hello, ask what she was doing, how she had been, and if they could get together anytime soon. Nick, Greg, Lisa… all had phoned to just shoot the shit and Sara mentally vowed to inflict intense physical harm on the next person who interrupted. She would have powered off her cell but she was waiting for Michelle to phone in with her third of the results so she could finally finish the report. The next phase of the project was supposed to begin bright and early the next morning and they would be unable to move forward until the results of the previous steps had been analyzed.
She picked up her phone, intent on calling Michelle and demanding the rest of the data, but sensed Grissom's presence hovering just beyond the edge of her peripheral vision. Sara very purposefully placed her phone back down on the table and turned, leveling Grissom with a dark stare.
"Are you just looking or do you need something?" Her tone was brusque and clipped, the frustration she was feeling evident in her voice.
Grissom looked at the floor, nervously passing his empty coffee cup from hand to hand. "I…Do you…um, I was…I was wondering…"
"For God's sake, Grissom, quit stuttering and spit it out so I can get back to work!"
His coffee mug hit the floor with a dull thud while his face blanched and his head snapped back as if Sara had physically slapped him. He retreated slowly down the hall, his eyes never leaving hers until he slid into the relative safety of his study.
Sara released a dragon sigh and banged her head on the table. She had done it again, bitten his head off for absolutely no reason. He was the only person who did not bother her when she was trying to study and she had unloaded on him. It was no wonder that he was hesitant to approach her and had started stammering again. She really needed to talk to him, to apologize, before he turned everything around and started believing that he was somehow to blame for what had just happened.
She stood and stretched before moving to retrieve his cup and place it in the kitchen sink. She grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and idly thumbed through a stack of mail and other papers lying piled neatly on the counter. She downed at least half of her drink before gasping for air. A letter, apparently written by Grissom sat atop the pile. Sara shook with rage as the truth of the document fully penetrated her consciousness. She slammed her water on the counter and stormed down the hall.
The object or her wrath was laying on the sofa in his study, one arm thrown over his face, glasses dangling loosely between his index finger and thumb, breathing quickly and trying to get his emotions under control. She knew she had hurt him again and they needed to sort things out, but she really didn't give a damn right now. She was pissed and in no mood to salve his damaged feelings.
"What the hell is this?" she demanded, shoving the paper in his face.
Grissom recoiled slightly, sliding deeper into the cushions in an attempt to gain a little distance from Sara and the fluttering document. He slipped on his glasses and slowly focused on the letter Sara clenched in her fist.
"I'm retiring," he stated simply.
"Yeah, I can see that. I can read, you know."
Her sarcasm garnered no reaction. Grissom merely watched her grind her teeth and purse her lips before she continued.
"How dare you do something like this without even talking to me?"
He sighed heavily and opened his mouth to reply but she cut him off before he was able to speak.
"I can't believe you're doing this to me."
His brows furrowed in confusion as he waited for her to explain.
"Grissom, you told me you'd handle all the bills so I could go back to school full time and finish my doctorate without having to stress about money. You're the one who encouraged me to take a leave of absence from the lab so I could concentrate on my studies. How am I supposed to do that if you're not pulling in a paycheck?"
He regarded her for a long moment before responding. "Is that all you're concerned about?" he asked quietly, his emotions carefully controlled.
"Hell, yes…well, no. It's not all I'm worried about, but it is right up there at the top of the list. You made a promise to me."
"I'm a man of my word, Sara, and I honor my commitments," he said, practically glaring at her. "You have nothing to worry about."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Grissom closed his eyes and began a quiet recitation. "The house is paid for as are both cars. Your tuition and fees are paid in full for the next three years. Since I am retiring as opposed to resigning, I will retain all of my health benefits and have taken the liberty of adding you to my insurance. Other than the monthly living expenses, everything is taken care of."
"You paid off my car?" she questioned in an incredulous tone.
He nodded, his eyes still closed. He could not bear to look at her when she was this angry with him and he was afraid that he had truly overstepped and destroyed everything.
"Why?"
"So you wouldn't have to worry about it."
Sara simply looked at him, too surprised by his revelation to immediately respond. Grissom assumed, from her prolonged silence, that the discussion had ended and started to roll over to face the back of the sofa.
"Wait, a minute, she said, spurred to action by his movement. She reached out to grab his shoulder and pull him back so that she could see his face. "We're not done here. Why didn't you discuss this with me? It affects both of us, Grissom, and I had a right to be involved in your decision."
He sighed heavily and burrowed deeper into his pillow. "Sara, I left at least six voice mails asking you to return my calls. Every time I try to talk to you here you bite my head off. What am I supposed to do?"
Grissom paused to swallow painfully around the lump forming in his throat.
"I can't make you talk to me. I can't make you check your messages. I can't make you respond to my text messages, take my calls or check your email."
He risked a glance at her before finishing his soft-spoken tirade.
"I can't make you spend time with me and I can't make you care. I can't do anything anymore."
Sara's mouth dropped open, shocked by the enormity of his words. She started to reply several times, but could not make her voice work. Her mouth opened to try again and she snapped it shut, her thoughts interrupted by the urgent ringing of her cell phone.
And the day that the cripple stood
By the man who
knew he would
But no one
thought he could
And the Promise rang
Sara glanced towards the door of the study, her phone beckoning. She knew the caller was more than likely Michelle checking in with the data she had been waiting for all morning and she really wanted to finish the data collation. However, this conversation simply could not wait. She had noticed over the past several weeks that Grissom had begun withdrawing, slipping back into himself. She needed to find out what was in his head before he retreated so far that she would never pull him out.
"You're not going to get that?" Grissom seemed genuinely surprised that Sara was not racing from the room.
"Nope."
"It's probably the call you've been waiting for."
"I'm sure it is, but we have a conversation to finish."
He shot her a dark, skeptical look but chose to say nothing.
"Grissom, what we're doing right here right now is more important. Now, what was it you wanted to ask me?"
Grissom shook his head. That particular subject was closed as far as he was concerned.
"Talk to me, Grissom."
"It doesn't matter anymore," he said with a sad sigh of resignation.
She looked at him, concerned that he would not meet her gaze. He either kept his eyes closed or stared at the ceiling. Sara suddenly remembered how nervous he had been to approach her earlier, how timid he had been for the past several weeks now. She dreaded the answer but felt compelled to ask.
"Gris? Are you afraid of me?"
His eyes closed and he said nothing for several painful moments.
"Yes."
It was a mere whisper, a barely there answer, but Sara heard the raw anguish dripping from the lonesome syllable.
"Why, Baby?" she asked, wondering what in the world she could have done to frighten him so badly.
"You are every dream I've ever had and every nightmare as well."
She winced, trying to find a way to respond, when he started talking again.
"I…I don't…know…what I did…but…you're always angry with me. You won't talk to me; never have time for me anymore. I know practically everything Lisa, Michelle, Justin and you have done, talked about and had for dinner during the past couple of months. You have no idea what I do during my off hours because you don't care enough to ask. I…I…eat every meal alone because you're never home anymore. You…have found a wonderful new life for yourself that I…haven't…been invited into or allowed to share."
He started hesitantly and slowly gathered steam. Sara rocked back on her heels, stunned as Grissom's emotions took over and the words all but flowed from his mouth. She knew she had been preoccupied with school and her new friends, but until this moment truly had no clue as to how much it had affected him. She supposed she should have realized that he was feeling left out, left behind, but he had never said a word.
"You don't want me to touch you. I sleep on the couch because I don't trust myself not to try to hold you during the night. I can't even kiss you anymore."
Her brows furrowed in confusion over his last statement, her thoughts racing back roughly three weeks prior as she realized what he was referring to.
He returned home after a difficult shift, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion and the lines in his face reflecting the misery of the evening. He was lost in his thoughts, preparing to head back to the bathroom to shower to scrub the grime and despair from his body when he noticed Sara curled up on the couch with her laptop open, her elegant fingers racing over the keys. His eyes lighted with delight as he watched her for a moment, the weariness receding just a bit knowing that she was home.
He walked over to where she was sitting, breathed in her delicate scent and dropped a sweetly chaste kiss on her cheek. She glanced up at him, annoyance sharpening her features. She pushed him away with a growl in her voice that had nothing to do with seduction and everything to do with aggravation.
"Not now, Grissom. I'm busy and I'm not in the mood."
He slowly backed away, stung by her words. "I wasn't trying to take you to bed," he mumbled, "I just wanted to say hello."
He retreated to his study and quietly closed the door. She looked in on him a couple of hours later to say goodbye as she was preparing to leave for campus. He was sound asleep, huddled under a blanket with his face buried deeply in his pillow. She dropped a light kiss on his temple and left, making a mental note to apologize later.
He had made no mention of the incident, but it suddenly occurred to her that he had made no attempt to kiss or even touch her since then. She was pulled back to the present when he resumed speaking.
"It's not about sex, Sara. I have been celibate for almost my entire adult life and am no stranger to tending to my own needs. I just…want to hold you sometimes."
She had no response for that and they just stared at each other. Finally, Grissom broke the silence.
"How soon do you want me out?"
"What?" Her eyes widened at his question, not certain she had heard him correctly.
"Do I have time to find a suitable apartment or do I need to book a hotel room?
"What are you talking about? I don't want you to leave. Where is this coming from?"
Defeat resonated through Grissom's voice as he haltingly began to speak, grudgingly accepting a situation he thought he could neither change nor influence. "Sara, a whole new world has opened up for you, honey. I haven't seen you this excited and happy in years. You have found a new purpose, new friends, and a new life. I can't compete with all of that. All I can do, Sara, is let you go. As much as I love you, as much as I want to keep you here with me, I have to let you go. Spread your beautiful wings and fly. Live the life you were meant to live."
"What? I have the life I want, right here with you. Are you saying…" Sara's question was strangled by a sob she refused to allow to escape. "What about us, Grissom? Are you just giving up?"
"There is no 'us', Sara. You are destined for bigger and better things. You've outgrown me, honey. You've already moved on. The only 'us' left is a foolish old man trying to hold on to a ghost."
"No, Grissom, you're not going anywhere and neither am I. God, we fought too hard to be together to give up now. I love you too much to just let you walk away from me."
He shook his head violently, denying her declaration and refusing to believe her. To believe would be to hope; to hope would be to dream. All of his dreams had died.
"Sara, the evidence…"
And hearts can win the race
Just show a
little faith
Like Mary full
of Grace
And the Promise
came
The Day the
River Sang
The Day the River Sang
And you can almost touch the stars
Like the moon
in your back yard
And we played
our old guitars
And the Promise rang
"Never lies. Look at me Grissom."
He reluctantly raised his eyes to look at her, terrified at what he might see in those chocolate depths. He could handle anger, or even hate, but not the indifference he had suffered lately. What he saw sent him reeling. Yes, there was shame and even a little fear, but mostly Sara's eyes shone with longing, hunger and…love…an abundance of love that made his heart swell and threaten to burst the confines of his chest.
"Grissom, listen to me very carefully. I may have forgotten to tell you or show you lately, but I love you more than I have ever loved anyone or anything. I have been neglecting you, I know that now, I just didn't realize how much I hurt you. I'm so sorry."
She rose up higher on her knees and lightly caressed his lips with her own. He felt more than heard her muttering against his mouth, each feathered declaration punctuated by a fleeting press of lips.
"It never lies, Baby."
"It…"
"Never…"
"Ever…"
"Lies."
Sara flicked her tongue along the seam of his lips, teasing, awakening his senses. A strangled whimper escaped his throat as he shivered in response to the exquisite torture. She pulled back slightly as their breathing quickened. Grissom's hands were trembling, the cobalt blue of his eyes glittering with an overpowering hunger for attention and affection. He was starving, craving so much more than a few grazing kisses but held himself in check, trying desperately to rein in the hard lust coursing through his veins as he waited for Sara to decide just how far they were going to go.
Without warning, Sara's head dropped and she kissed him again, her tongue slipping into his mouth as his lips parted helplessly beneath her sensual onslaught. Her hands tangled in his hair as she gracefully climbed on top of him, never breaking the delicious suction as she unfolded her long limbs atop his quivering frame. Their tongues dueled for dominance, sweet, slurping smacks and blissful sighs the only sounds escaping through their tangled lips. Sara wriggled, seeking more contact and Grissom's large hands rose from his sides to firmly grab her ass and press her hips tightly against his own.
Sara hummed happily, breaking the suction with a satisfying "pop". She raised her head, taking in his hooded, dazed expression and slightly puffy lips. Her hands gently stoked his smooth cheeks as his fingers snuck under her shirt to swirl lightly against the warm flesh of her back.
"Come on. Let's take this to the bedroom."
She managed to stand, her legs slightly wobbly, and reached down a hand to help him off the sofa. He immediately enfolded her in a vise-like embrace as they stumbled down the hall.
"What did you want to ask me?" she asked, gasping as he devoured her neck.
"Hmmm?"
"Earlier, when I snapped at you." He was making it difficult for her to concentrate, his hands sliding across her body as he slowly divested her of her clothing.
"Oh," he muttered, engulfing her mouth in a hot kiss. He licked and nipped his way across her cheek to whisper in her ear. "Next Monday is our two-year anniversary."
"Mmmmhmmm," she managed, sighing her pleasure.
"Anything special you want to do?"
"Nnnnno," she whimpered, arching back in an effort to get closer to the fingers tickling over her nipples. "Your, oh, your choice, baby. Any, anything you want."
His hands roamed down her stomach to toy with the snap on her pants. He drew the zipper down as he struggled to finish the conversation. "Can…we have dinner…here…alone…just the two of us? No phones, no pagers?"
"Oh yeah." Sara was not totally certain whether she was answering his question or reacting to his ministrations, but either way the response seemed to satisfy him and her pants and underpants fell to the floor.
"5:00?"
"It's a date."
He silenced her with a hard kiss, his hand sliding up her spine to cup the base of her skull as he possessively plundered the tantalizing sweetness of her mouth. He eased her down on to the bed, sinking down with her as his hands roamed freely over her body.
Sara's fingers shook as she attempted to slip the brass button of his jeans through the stiff denim opening. Grissom's gaze pierced hers as he gently brushed her hands away and growled.
"Be still, Sara, and let me love you."
And secrets kept within
Like there's no
way to win
When did love
become a sin
And the Promise
came
The Day the
River Sang
The Day the River Sang
"Hey."
A light touch on her arm startled Sara from her thoughts, the potent memories of Grissom so thoroughly loving her slipping away to fade into the quiet breath sounds whistling from the ventilator. She glanced up to see Lisa and Michelle, her project mates, nervously looking around the room, their eyes finally settling on Grissom.
Sara brushed away an errant tear and sat up in her chair. "Hey."
Lisa cleared her throat and shoved a plastic take out bag towards Sara.
"We brought you something to eat. We didn't know how long you were going to be here."
"Thanks. You guys didn't have to do this."
"Yeah we did," said Michelle, her gaze never wavering from the still form on the bed. "That's what friends do." She paused a moment, tearing her eyes from Grissom to look at Sara. "Why didn't you tell us you were married?"
Sara shook her head as she stood and placed her meal on the table beside Grissom's bed. "I'm not."
"Wait," began Lisa, a look of confusion crossing her face. "I thought that guy on TV said you two are married."
Sara sighed, softly ruffling Grissom's hair and dropping a kiss on his forehead as she struggled to explain. "Gris and I aren't married, at least not legally. We are more like life partners, totally committed to each other. We just haven't made it official…yet." She held out her left hand. "He was going to propose last night."
"Oh, wow," said Michelle, shaking her head sadly. "Damn…just, damn."
Sara merely nodded, her hand caressing as much of Grissom's forearm as she could without disturbing the numerous IV lines. Lisa watched as Sara sought to soothe and comfort the unresponsive man.
"You really love him, don't you?"
"More than you'll ever know."
"Why don't you ever talk about him?" Michelle asked, genuinely curious. "I mean, we talk about our boyfriends all the time. We had no idea that you were even seeing anyone, let alone that you were this involved with someone."
"I don't know," Sara breathed miserably. "I guess I just never felt the need. It's nothing personal against the two of you or anything like that, but I'm not really used to discussing Grissom with anyone. We are both pretty private people."
Lisa and Michelle looked at each other, reaching a silent decision.
"We need to tell you something," began Michelle.
Sara looked at her friends, taking in their discomfort and wondering what kind of bombshell they were planning to drop in her lap. She did not think she could handle much more right now.
Lisa cleared her throat. "Justin is, um…" She glanced at Michelle who nodded, encouraging her to finish her statement. Lisa drew a big breath and the words came rushing out. "Justin is going to make a play for you."
Send me the doctors' names
Who really are to blame
If the junkies live in pain
And the Promise rang
The Day the River Sang
The
Day the River Sang
All the names on his list…all the ones responsible…they were all there, staring at him. Most were crossed off; some still remained, taunting him, haunting him. The lawyers, the physicians, the psychiatrists, the police officers, the criminalists, all of the people who are supposed to help people, who are supposed to make the world better…they did nothing. All they did was feed on the dregs of society and allow depravity to prosper by railroading decent, upright, God-fearing men like him who were not afraid to take out the fucking scum of the earth when it was needed.
He had not killed an innocent civilian. He had killed a worthless, deadbeat hophead that had taken an LVPD criminalist hostage. A criminalist was not exactly a cop but they all worked together for the greater good. A junkie was the devil, plain and simple, violating the laws of nature, God and society. He was simply another target, another enemy of the state to be eliminated, nothing more nothing less.
SWAT had been called in to provide assistance should the hostage situation deteriorate and that is precisely what he had done. He eliminated the threat, permanently. It did not matter if the slime ball had been giving up on that particular day. The enemy could wear camouflage and get all dolled up in pretty party clothes as much as he wanted, but a zebra could never change its stripes. The douche bag was always going to fill his veins with poison and always be a threat. He had to be eliminated before he could harm anyone else. Why could they not see that? It was a clean kill and the asshole did not suffer. What the hell was the problem? Why did anyone give a flying fuck if there was one less junkie prowling the streets and robbing people to get his next fix? He had provided a valuable service, cleaned up a mess a fellow officer had caused by not properly securing a scene and as a thank you for his unfailing accuracy and steady trigger finger, he had been sent away and locked up like a damn dog. He should have been given a medal, not labeled as a bad cop and thrown away like a sack of garbage. Oh, how they would pay, every last one of them.
But first, he had some business to attend to. It was time to take care of the spotter. That psycho thought they were going to meet to exchange the final payment for services rendered. Well, the spotter would be receiving something, oh yes he would, it would just not be money. That sick fuck was going to end up with a mouth full of lead. He would even leave some blatant clues so the police would know precisely who was responsible for the Stratosphere shooting. He had dallied long enough. It was time to get busy.
And
if we could all agree
That we should
all be free
If we could let
it be
And the Promise
came
Today the River
Sang
The Day the
River Sang
The Day the River Sang
"Oh, shit," Brass muttered as he read the name on the next folder in the stack he and Catherine were wading through. "This is worse than I thought. I didn't realize this guy was out." His hand trembled slightly as he reached to pick up the file.
Catherine rubbed a smear of dust from her cheek and glanced over to read the name stenciled on the manila folder. "Marlon Landis Gaenor? Never heard of him."
"You wouldn't, not around here, anyway. LVPD has erased all traces of him. Landis Gaenor was a cop, killed a civilian in cold blood."
TO BE CONTINUED…
"The Day the River Sang" Words and Music by John Stewart