Oh, the action is picking up now. We're nearing the end, my friends, and thank goodness, as my week of freedom is also nearing the end. All of the players are in place. Tick-tock, tick-tock,the clock is ticking.
Erik began trembling the moment he heard the gunshot over the loudspeaker. First it was his hands, but soon it had spread through his arms to his chest and down to his legs. He could barely take a step forward. Behind him the cold butt of the man's gun continued to prod him in his upper back. It hadn't scared him before, it had just been a reminder to keep moving. Now that steel terrified him.
Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, Erik thought the words of the prayer he'd learned so long ago, when his mother had sent him to that parochial pre-school. Lily would have been surprised to know it, but the sacred verses had helped him through some dark times, and if Erik Van der Woodsen didn't exactly believe in God, he had just enough curiosity to remember the lines.
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.
They turned down one more corner – the last corner, Erik knew. He could see the office door ahead. He had to keep his eyes open. He had to keep walking. The man behind him pushed more insistently. He was worried, or nervous. Erik just kept seeing flashes of blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. He'd heard of seeing a life pass before one's eyes just before death – was it possible to see someone else's life?
Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses.
At the masked man's insistance, he put out his hand to the door, began to turn the knob.
As we forgive those --- as we forgive those – He was stuck on this one. Could he forgive those? If they had really shot his sister, could he forgive them? About that, he wasn't sure.
The door opened and his eyes cast around the room. He ignored the faces huddled on the ground, ignored the man standing anxiously over the intercome. He was looking for just one face –
And then rather than finding it he was enveloped in it, as his sister flung herself from the floor to wrap her long body around his shorter frame.
"Erik! You're okay!" she said joyfully. She cradled his head against her chest. He could feel his hair being dampened by her tears. His own arms snaked around her body. His sister was okay, she was still alive.
As we forgive those who trespass against us.
"Touching," The man who had led Erik in snarled. "Any luck?"
Erik peeped out from Serena's cradling arms. "None," he said. "Shot didn't scare him out of hiding. Who'd you bring with you?"
"The brother," the man said.
"Bass was an only child."
"Step-brother, then. They all looked happy enough in those family photos. Figured another hostage couldn't hurt."
That was when Erik remembered. Ignoring all of the drama, he looked into his sister's face. "I heard the intercom," he said. "They were going to shoot you or Nate. Where – "
Serena gasped, as though she'd forgotten something, and nearly threw herself to the ground near the desk. Erik joined her a moment later. He saw the masked men glancing at him and his sister, but as long as they weren't attacking, the men didn't seem to care.
A pair of shoes were poking out from around the corner. Erik drew in a deep breath. He wasn't sure that he wanted to see this.
"He's still alive," Serena said. She looked up at him over Nate's body. Erik shuddered. Nate was lying straight out, his eyes open and fixed on the ceiling. His chest was moving as he gasped in short, shallow breaths. A yellow shirt was being pressed tightly to his lower chest by Serena. Her hand was bloody, Erik noticed in distraction. Had it been bloody a minute ago? Over her shoulder, Pete Sempras sat in just his undershirt and a terrified expression. Figured, Erik couldn't help but think. Even in the middle of all the chaos, Sempras would figure out a way to get his shirt off.
"We need to get him out of here," Serena whispered. "I mean, this can't be good. Being shot in the. . .in the. . .well, wherever he was shot, exactly. He doesn't answer when I talk to him, either."
Erik nodded, and scooted over so that he was directly beside the other boy. Nate's eyes rolled a little in their sockets to try and focus on him. It was a terrifying motion.
Erik reached out and smoothed a sweaty lock of hair away from the boy's forehead. He hadn't known Nate very well – he was his sister's friend, not his. Still. He was beautiful, Erik had always known that. And he'd always been kind, considerate.
"You're going to be okay," Erik whispered. "We'll get you out of this."
As Serena had said, Nate didn't respond verbally. But his eyes remained focused on Erik's face. Disturbed, Erik turned to his sister again.
"And what about. . ." he had to gulp down bile that rose into his throat at the thought. One sibling saved, but one still out there. "What about Chuck?"
"I don't know," Serena shrugged. "I was with him at the beginning, but then he and Blair just disappeared. I don't know. Maybe they escaped."
"How?" Erik asked. "Jenny and I tried two exits before we were caught. They were all guarded."
"Then maybe he's found somewhere safe to hide," Serena shrugged. "I don't blame him."
"He wouldn't just hide," Erik said stubbornly.
"Chuck isn't exactly a knight in shining armor," Serena pointed out. She leaned forward to apply more pressure to Nate's wound as the boy coughed. A little bubble of blood appeared on his lips. Erik flinched back for a moment, before recovering himself. He pulled the tie off from around his neck and gently dabbed at the man's bloody mouth.
"He wouldn't just hide. Not when you and Nate were threatened," He said insistently. Inside, though, he wasn't so sure. In a way, too, he was hoping that Chuck was merely hiding. He didn't want to see anyone else dead. He certainly didn't want to die, and he didn't want Serena to, but the thought of Chuck walking into that room was almost equally awful. After all that he'd been through. . .
There was a click from above, as the intercom was turned on. "All right, Bass, one down. The girls's next. And, just so you know, stakes are raised. We've got your brother in here, too. So if you want the Van der Woodsen's getting out alive, you'd better show up soon."
Erik's eyes met Serena's over Nate's hitching body. He'd been so focused on finding his sister, that he'd forgotten what the consequences for that were. And then, as if there weren't enough things to worry about, with Nate bleeding out in front of his eyes, his sister and himself slated for certain death, and his step-brother who knew where, the door opened.
"Hello," a familiar voice said. "My name is Blair Waldorf, and I've come to report that I know the where-abouts of one Charles Bass."
* * * *
Blair almost cried when the door shut behind her. Almost, but not quite. In all truth, she wasn't sure that she could cry anymore. It seemed like all of the tears had already leaked out of her during the tension-filled moments under the sink. And she'd certainly spent more than enough tears on a certain Bass over the years.
Though she didn't want him to be killed. No, she thought back to that horrible night on top of Victrola, his one-legged balancing act, the near topple to the street below. No, she certainly didn't want him to die.
She figured, though, that the odds were in her favor. The police were nearby—surely they would save everyone soon. Though she had to admit that her faith in the NYPD had never been very high. All that she had to do was delay them a little bit. Find the office quickly, then make an introduction. Then she'd take them down the correct hallway, but to the wrong room. She'd claim that Chuck had been there, that he must have just left. And by then, of course, the police would have arrived. Nobody would have to die.
Blair straightened her back as she strode toward the office. No deaths sounded very good to her. Until the blasted intercome went on.
"All right, Bass, one down. The girls's next. And, just so you know, stakes are raised. We've got your brother in here, too. So if you want the Van der Woodsen's getting out alive, you'd better show up soon."
Her shoot caught in a groove, her ankle twisted. She, Blair Waldorf, tripped within the halls of Constance Billard. In her three years at the school that had never happened. She took a deep breath and straightened herself.
So Serena was still alive. Something released within her, a tension she hadn't recognized until that moment. Serena was still alive. That was good. But that meant Nate. . .
The damned tears reappeared. She didn't know whether to be angry at Chuck, or devastated for him. Nate didn't deserve to die – of all the people in the world that she knew, Nathaniel Archibald was among the best of them. He certainly didn't deserve to die, especially not in the place of his irresponsible, insensitive, back-stabbing, womanizing, alcoholic and altogether reprehensible best friend.
At the same time, it was completely possible that Chuck would die when he found out.
But Serena was still alive. Blair caught on to that lifeline. Nothing had changed, she reminded herself. She'd known someone had been shot. Now she just knew who. Nothing had changed. She still had to save the day, she still have to make sure that she and those that she loved most made it out of this alive.
She was almost at the door. Where were the police? She pushed it open.
"Hello. My name is Blair Waldorf, and I've come to report that I know the where-abouts of one Charles Bass."
An entire string of activity hit her, just then. A man she hadn't even noticed grabbed her from the side of the door. Erik and Serena's faces suddenly popped up over the side of the secretary's desk, identical expressions on their faces. A man was barking out orders, too quickly to understand. Pete Sempras stood up. He didn't have on his shirt. And, as suddenly as she'd walked in, Blair suddenly found herself in the hallway again.
"Let's go," the man behind her barked. "And nothing funny. The Van der Woodsen's are right behind us. One wrong move, missy, and all three of you get lead in your brains. Understood."
"Y-yes," Blair whispered. Dear God, what had she gotten herself into?
Thank you, once again to all of my faithful reviewers!