Figuring that he didn't have long to get out, Reese tamped down on the pain, and worked to get his hands free. His right arm was excruciatingly painful, any movement sent sharp jabs of pain arching down from his shoulder. Agonisingly, the injury seemed to allow him slightly greater freedom of movement with his undamaged left hand. He could reach the knots, and that was his adversary's biggest mistake.
Slowly but surely he managed to pick the knot undone with his left hand. The rope fell away, there was a jolt of pain as his injured arm dangled. It was useless, and he wasn't going to last long with one functioning arm, against either Danetti's gorillas or, perish the thought, Elias.
It was at the back of John's mind that this had the hallmarks of Elias behind it. A bold and risky move, but one that he had managed to pull off.
Reese knew he had to get away, and quickly, he needed back up on this one. He glanced up at the stable bars, with two good hands he could have got over the stall without too much difficulty, but injured, not a chance. Besides, he couldn't leave Harold. The defenceless animal didn't deserve some grisly end.
Reese sighed. "Harold, why couldn't you have been a Chihuahua?"
Harold's black ears swivelled forwards, and he made a soft snorting noise. It sounded vaguely like laughter.
Reese fished the paperclip out of his boot, and reached through the bars to the lock. He was right handed, and it was difficult picking the lock from inside the stall, but he wasn't about to leave anything to chance. He had to get out of there, and get Harold as far away as possible.
It was slow going, and arduous work, Reese's fingers were sore from manipulating the paperclip, but finally the old lock gave.
They were getting out of there. Awkwardly, Reese undid his belt, and used it to immobilise his injured arm, Harold was still wearing his halter and there was a halter rope dangling conveniently over a hook outside the stable, the horse followed him willingly.
It was dark, and the rain was pouring down, the weather so miserable that it would effectively cover their exit. It was going to be cold and unpleasant, and if he didn't get pneumonia at the end of it all, it would be something of a miracle, but Reese couldn't remember the last time he was pleased it was raining.
Harold came to a halt beside the mounting block. Reese looked back, surprised, wondering if he was hallucinating. Harold seemed to be saying get on.
Reese was already cold and sore, bodily contact with the horse would keep him at least a little warmer than walking in the driving rain. He climbed on with some difficulty.
"Home, Harold." He said, more in jest than any real expectation that the horse would understand him.
The black and white head swung round, the nose bumped his foot, and for just a second Reese could have sworn that Harold winked at him. Then the creature set off out into the dark and stormy night.
Detective Jocelyn Carter frowned as Finch explained the story. In her wilder moments home alone in the dark, when the day didn't seem to want to end, and she couldn't sleep, she thought of John Reese. How she should have turned him in, how she should have put a stop to all this. Because if she had put a stop to this, John would not be missing and her heart would not be fluttering in her chest, and bile would not be rising in her throat.
Grudgingly she had long ago accepted that she was fascinated by Reese, and that he meant something to her. Now, knowing that he was missing, very possibly wounded or injured in some way, and that the weather had closed in and he was out there all alone, Joss acknowledged that John Reese had stolen her heart. She had already been responsible for him nearly losing his life once before, if anything happened to him now, she would go on, but knew that the world would be darker and her heart would be forever lost.
The intense feeling that swept through her when Finch told her of the incident would not help find him.
Stacey Collins. Daughter of high ranking, and more than likely corrupt, official in the Police Department also gave her pause.
"Miss Collins." She kept her tone workmanlike and carefully neutral.
Stacey turned towards her. "You don't believe me." The flat little statement hung between them.
"It's not that I don't believe you." Joss paused, looking for the right words, not wanting to spook the girl further.
She could see the frustration in Stacey's eyes, and in spite of her disbelief she was impressed at the young woman's strength of purpose.
"I never wanted to know what my family got up to. I've stayed as far away from them and everything to do with them, until I could leave home legally. I have left them alone, and mostly, until now, they have left me alone." Stacey turned away towards the window again. "Now people have put their lives at risk to help me. It isn't just my life, it's John and Harold too."
Carter watched Finch move to stand next to Stacey, saw the way he took her hand, the look that Stacey gave him and wondered if Harold Finch realised how deep the young woman's feelings for him obviously were.
Stacey pulled herself together. "Detective Carter, I have in my possession my grandfather's journal. I have only read a few pages, I know there is enough in it to cause two of the five families a great deal of trouble. Up until today, I would never have passed this to anyone outside of the family."
Joss studied her face, "but now you will." Realising the enormity of the risk that Stacey was preparing to make.
Stacey nodded. "When they were trying to kill me, it was all part of the game. I can take care of myself. But now John's life is at risk, and dammit, they have my horse. And, there's worse. Carl Elias."
How do you know about Elias? That was the question on Carter's lips, but she sensed that that question would be a painful one. Joss knew that was a place that Stacey would prefer not to go.
"Very well." There wasn't much time, it was already dark, and somewhere out there Carl Elias was making his next move.
Finch looked like he wanted to protest, Joss could see his feelings were being torn between his desperate desire to protect Stacey, and his need to save his partner. But he wouldn't stop her.
"I'll give you what you want. One condition. You help me get John and my horse back, alive."
Joss nodded. "Let's go."
Harold plodded onwards, Reese sat on his back, hunched up against the elements. He was soaked to the skin, shivering with cold, surprise trickles of rain down the back of his neck kept him miserably but safely awake.
He had no idea where they were, or even where they were going, he just hoped that Harold had some sort of sense of direction and that the horse was indeed heading back to somewhere familiar. If not, next stop Canada.
It was not lost on Reese that the horse had wandered off the main path several miles back, and seemed to pause every time they came to anything that looked like habitation or a black top road. He was trying to get his head around the fact that Harold appeared to be sneaking past places where their enemies might be holed up. Or so it appeared to Reese's fevered imagination.
It was very dark, but Harold seemed to know the way, so Reese tightened his grip on the rope, and wound his fingers into Harold's mane. Miles to go, and promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.
"Let me summarize the situation for you, gentlemen." Carl Elias sat on the over-stuffed love seat in the small parlour. "Our quarry is injured, he is alone, without weapons and in possession of a large black and white horse. He is cut off without contact and probably has no sense of where he is. Yet six of you are insufficient to track down one injured man and a large horse."
Elias smiled. His two lieutenants standing in front of him feared that smile.
"Find John Reese."
He did not abuse or threaten. The fear he spread was all the more effective for it.
