Choices: Chapter 7
Wyatt
I already lost you once, I can't lose you again.
The admission had been both a pain and a relief. He wanted her to know. Needed her to know how much losing her would tear him apart, even as she steadily convinced him to leave her. Because damn him if Lucy Preston wasn't the most persuasive person he'd ever met, despite asking him to do the unthinkable.
The folded pages of the tax ledger were a solid weight in his inner breast pocket as he stealthily maneuvered his way through the penthouse, doing his best to circumvent every one of Capone's gang members without making a sound. Although it wasn't too hard, considering it seemed they'd all recently taken a generous dip into the Outfit's alcohol inventory, and were accordingly drunk beyond the bounds of self-awareness. But he also knew that intoxicated could quickly escalate to trigger happy and didn't want to find himself face to face with any of them, should a shoot-out ensue. Lucy had given him a job to do, and he wasn't going to get anywhere near Eliot Ness with mobsters and machine guns in his wake.
Before long he was down the elevator shaft and slipping out the front doors of the Lexington Hotel, where a rather battered Rufus was waiting for him, sitting on the front steps.
"What happened to you?" Wyatt asked, taking stock of Rufus' black eye and the bleeding cut tracing his cheek bone.
Rufus grimaced as he attempted to wipe the blood from his face. "When I tried to use the whites only bathroom the security guards told me off. Some…choice words were exchanged, punches were thrown, and here we are."
"You confronting racist bigots in the past will never not be badass." Wyatt chuckled, offering his friend a hand as he helped him to his feet.
"You said to create a distraction." Rufus shrugged, a wry grin pulling at his lips. Then he seemed to remember himself before adding, "So what happened? Did you see Lucy?"
"I couldn't see her, but we talked." Wyatt explained, leading Rufus down to the street as he pulled the papers from inside his coat. The pair tucked themselves into a small alcove near the mouth of a darkened alley, eyes peeled for Capone or Flynn.
"What do you mean?"
"Flynn's got her locked up tight and I couldn't get to her. But she gave me this." Wyatt unfolded the documents Lucy had given him. Among the meaningless monetary figures, he could see the loopy scrawl of her handwriting in the corner where she had written an estimate of Eliot Ness' address. "It's the tax evidence that Flynn stole from Capone."
Rufus' eyes widened as Wyatt passed the pages over to him, waiting patiently as the other man flipped through them. "And what are we supposed to do with it?" Rufus asked hesitantly.
"She said we have to deliver it to some prohibition agent, Eliot Ness. He's the guy we saw at the court house earlier today."
Rufus stared at him blankly before recognition sparked in his anxious eyes. "You mean the one who decked that reporter?"
The sickening crack of the journalist's nose echoed in Wyatt's mind. "That's him."
"Great. We get to go from homicidal terrorist to violent 1930's cop. Can't wait."
"Anything is better than Flynn as far as I'm concerned." Wyatt retorted shortly. Rufus hummed in agreement, crossing his arms as he turned back toward the hotel and glanced up toward, eyes scanning the windows of the upper floors. Wyatt knew who he was looking for.
"So, what? We're just gonna leave her there? With him?" Rufus asked quietly, raising his eyebrows. The thought of abandoning Lucy to Flynn's machinations just as hard to stomach for him as it was for Wyatt.
"You think I want to?" Wyatt snapped before taking a breath, his eyes downcast. "She made me leave."
Rufus' mouth formed into a small 'oh' as resigned understanding settled his features. He looked just as conflicted as Wyatt did, admiring Lucy's bravery while being utterly frustrated by her stubborn lack of self-preservation.
"Of course she did." Rufus frowned, releasing a puff of laughter despite himself. "She's always putting everyone else first, even when she shouldn't."
"Tell me about it." Wyatt muttered. "Come on, let's hitch a ride."
They made their way a few blocks down, scanning the streets for an unattended car until they came to a busy street where no one would notice who was climbing into what. With as much nonchalance as they could muster, they carefully slipped into a helpfully unlocked Ford model Koln, which looked like the Model-T's slightly updated cousin. Rufus took the driver's seat and hot-wired the car as inconspicuously and quickly as possible, and before long they were pulling out onto the main road.
"I wonder what Flynn's doing messing around with mobster's in the 1930's." Rufus thought aloud as Wyatt read the address and directed them.
"I mean political corruption and social intimidation seems right up Rittenhouse's alley, but why now? And why Al Capone?"
"I don't know." Rufus made a hard turn and the tires screeched; he seemed to remember he was driving a hunk of nuts and bolts that didn't really encompass four-wheel drive and scowled. "Now if only Flynn could lay off his antics, we might be able to get somewhere with Rittenhouse ourselves."
"All things considered I think we have it pretty good" Wyatt said lightly, almost grinning. "We found Lucy, didn't we?"
Rufus looked at him sidelong. "Yeah but I still have a mother and a brother who think I've become a fugitive of the U.S. government and a girlfriend whose being held hostage by Rittenhouse." He waited a beat, before adding in a very measured tone. "You've spent the last two days worried sick about the woman you love, I think you'd understand."
"What?" Wyatt asked, completely non-plussed. So much so that Rufus has physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes.
"Lucy!" Rufus exclaimed.
"No." Wyatt said, failing to sound at all convincing.
"You idiot, you're in love with Lucy. Just admit it."
Wyatt looked like he was about to do just about anything but that.
"Fine. Don't admit it. I don't care. Can you just admit that sometimes saving the world sucks? Can you give me that, please?"
The soldier considered, leaning his head left to right before shrugging. "I'll admit the road sucks."
Rufus decided to take what he could get and kept driving. He realized it was probably a bit soon to be mentioning love after the whole 1980's Jessica debacle, but it was almost painful to watch the two of his teammates dance around each other any longer. Out of all the roles he'd ever expected to play on this team, relationship counselor was certainly not one of them. And yet here he was.
It wasn't long before they pulled up to a seedy, low grade hotel in central Chicago. There were a few thinly disguised brothels, speak-easies, and gambling houses along the boulevard dispersed by a sprinkling of identically grimy and run-down apartments like the one in front of them. It looked like the last neighborhood you'd find a law enforcement officer living in, but Wyatt supposed that was probably the best place to stake out a mobster. Hiding in plain sight.
Wyatt stepped out onto the curb, followed by Rufus after he killed the engine and hopped out of the driver's side.
"So, how do we know which room is his? It's not like we can just walk in and drop his name. They might think we're part of Capone's Outfit." Wyatt considered.
"I don't know, maybe we could go door to door and-"
"Door to door? What are we Rufus, girl scouts?"
"Well do you have a better idea? Because-"
"'Scuse me," A gruff voice said behind them. "Can I help you gentleman?"
Wyatt took a deep labored breath thinking, great, because some self-righteous street thug is just what we need. But when he turned around, he found himself face to face with none other than Eliot Ness.
"Mr. Ness?" Wyatt tried, gaging the other man's reaction. The prohibition agent looked surprised, but not afraid or intimidated by the fact that they knew who he was. Wyatt had to give him points for putting up a good front, because for all Ness knew they could be the very goons that Capone sent to pop a cap in his crown.
"Who's asking?" Ness asked suspiciously, his sharp eyes flicking between Wyatt and Rufus with open scrutiny. Shit, Wyatt hadn't even thought of a cover story or an alias. Lucy was always the one who started the fake name game and came up with their backstory, but he had to come up with something-
"I'm Agent Morrison and this is Agent Murdock. We're detectives outsourced by the police department to keep an eye on the Outfit's movements." Rufus answered semi-confidently, giving Wyatt a 'come on, back me up here' sort of look.
In swiftly going from utter panic to poorly veiled surprise, Wyatt had to choke back a laugh. You picked aliases from the A-Team? Seriously, Rufus?
"Oh, is that so?" Ness eyed Rufus skeptically as he looked him up and down. "Didn't know Chicago PD was hiring Negroes."
Rufus had to bite his tongue before letting loose a retort that would probably get them either thrown in jail or in a fist fight with the legendary 'untouchable one', neither of which places he particularly wanted to be. The irony of the whole 'I'm trying to save your life and your flinging racial slurs at me' did not escape him, just left a sour taste in his mouth as he clamped it shut.
"They don't. We're private investigators, not police officers." Wyatt clarified, shooting Rufus an apologetic glance. Ness hardly looked convinced, and Wyatt couldn't blame him. No papers, no badges or identification. They could be wholeheartedly lying, and to be perfectly honest, they were. Although not for the reasons Ness would have suspected.
"Well, whatever you are you have no business here. Get lost." Ness said shortly before pushing past them, mumbling angrily about how he was going to have to move places again, and how he couldn't take much more of this.
"Mr. Ness, just wait a minute-"
"I told you to scram!" He yelled over his shoulder as he ripped his keys from his coat pocket and made his way for the door. "And I don't want to see you two skulking around here when I leave either."
Wyatt stood there helplessly for a moment before remembering the evidence so conveniently tucked away into his breast pocket. Honestly, if Lucy could see him floundering through this conversation when she'd given them all the proof they needed, she'd probably be beside herself.
"Not even if we had the missing evidence from Capone's trial this morning?" Wyatt asked, producing the papers from his jacket with a little flourish. He took a little satisfaction in seeing Ness' body go rigid as he carefully looked over his shoulder and his eyes widened in shock.
"You-where did you get-how?" Ness stuttered, dropping any all-knowing tough guy pretense he might have been playing at before as he quickly sidled up beside Wyatt and gently took the papers in his own hands. Fingers shaking as his eyes roved over the pages and confirmed their authenticity, as if he almost couldn't believe they were real. Satisfied, he eventually released a sigh of relief and was about to thank the two strange men before him when something clicked in his brain, and he found himself rounding on the pair.
His eyes flashing darkly and his face turning steely as he drew the papers closer to his chest. "What is this? Did yousteal these documents? Is this some sort of ransom where you charge me through the roof to get my own evidence back? And where's the rest of the ledger?"
Ness looked like he was a hair's breadth away from bolting, so Rufus leapt to keep up with the questions and calm him down. "We didn't steal them, but we know who did. It was one of Capone's new allies, a European newcomer who wanted to get in favor with Capone."
Ness visibly relaxed, if only a fraction, looking less like he was about to take off but still ready if the need presented itself. His brows knit together in deep thought as he considered what Rufus had said, before something fell into place and a memory surfaced.
"I seen the one you're talking about, down at the trial earlier. Tall, sturdy guy, has some kinda accent. Had a young woman with him too." Ness remembered.
"That's our…colleague." Wyatt explained, not totally sure how to properly define Lucy's relationship to him either in the practical or romantic sense. But that was a problem for later. "She was doing surveillance on him when he grabbed her. He's been holding her hostage for two days now."
Maybe it was the earnestness in his expression, or the emotion that unwilling slipped into Wyatt's voice as he said it, but something about his words brought on a change in Ness. Like he was actually closer to at least half-believing their unlikely story.
"I'm…sorry to hear that." Ness offered somewhat uncertainly, as if he wasn't sure whether giving condolences for a tragedy that he wasn't sure was entirely true. But it was a monumental improvement on the open hostility from moments before, so they had to count it for something.
"So are we. She's the one who got us the papers." Rufus added.
Ness nodded, flipping through the documents in his grasp appreciatively. "Well, I'll have to thank her for that. I need bring this into the district attorney's office first thing tomorrow morning to see if we can have another shot at this case."
Wyatt could already see the burning determination in Ness' eyes as he reignited with a sense of purpose. It was a feeling the soldier could readily identify with, but it was slightly uncanny to see it unfold in someone else, if only because he was going through the exact same thing as of late. But hearing Ness mention the business of tomorrow snapped Wyatt into action, as he frantically remembered the second part of Lucy's warning.
"Lucy-our colleague-also managed to tip us off that Capone put a hit out on you, tonight." Wyatt revealed in a low voice, his eyes flashing side to side as he scanned the street for any suspicious characters, but there was no one in sight. Or at least no one that looked out of place. It was early evening by now, and there were ladies of the night, drunkards, soon-to-be-drunkards, and the like milling about the streets. But no one that screamed 'stealthy assassin' by a long shot.
Ness looked understandably unsettled by this news, his eyes automatically sweeping their surroundings just as Wyatt's had. "Are you sure? I always make it a point to take a roundabout way back home. How did he find out where I'm stayin'?"
Flynn, probably. Wyatt assumed, but that was an explanation they didn't have time for. "I don't know, but I think it'd be best if we secure your apartment, if you don't mind." Wyatt was struggling not to be pushy, but there wasn't exactly a polite way to tell someone that they needed to let you guard them from impending death, and that there wasn't really any choice in the matter.
Ness still looked more than a little wary but didn't seem to have the energy or wherewithal to protest. He seemed more scared about the prospect of a looming sniper than the threat of the two alleged detectives offering their help and shrugged his acquiescence before turning his key in the lock and beckoning them up the stairs. He was careful to keep a lookout over his shoulder on the way up though. Whether to keep an eye on himself and Rufus or some unseen threat, Wyatt didn't know. Probably both.
They climbed up two flights of rickety stairs before shuffling down a narrow and dimly lit hallway, coming to stand outside a bare bones wooden door. Ness was about to slide his key into place before Wyatt threw out an arm to stop him, holding a finger to his lips to hush them. He could have sworn that he'd heard a noise from the other side of the wall just a moment before.
"Someone could be waiting for you." Wyatt whispered as quietly as he could. "Unlock the door and throw it open, but don't step inside. I'll cover you."
Ness nodded silently as Wyatt removed his glock from its holster and undid the safety, positioning himself with his back against the wall as the other man unlocked the door, and cautiously pushed it open.
It wasn't a moment later that the bullets started raining.
Just as the door swung open someone start pumping lead into the wall behind the door where Ness would have been standing. Rufus and Ness quickly startled back from the opening, pressing themselves against the far side of the hallway while Wyatt kept his back to the wall, his fingers itching at the trigger as he waited for the right moment to slip inside. With the amount of noise and bullets firing, it sounded like a god damn machine gun was waiting for him, and Wyatt knew he was going to have to be smart about this if there was.
After a moment or two the shooter seemed to realize that Ness wasn't in fact standing there, and the firing ceased. Wyatt took a breath, let it out, and then rounded through the doorway, gun up and ready to pull the trigger. There were two men, one hiding behind Ness' wardrobe and the other standing unprotected in the kitchen doorway. Wyatt recognized the latter as one of Flynn's henchmen, the one that had led them to the death trap of the Murder Castle back in 1893. But, grudges aside, he figured it was more practical to go for the guy holding the portable machine gun first.
"Stay outside!" Wyatt ordered to Rufus and Ness before opening fire.
Wyatt tossed two bullets in the direction of the machine gun wielder and heard the sound of a body hitting the wooden slats before diving across the floor, rolling to take cover behind the couch in the living room.
He could hear one of the cronies groaning, signaling that whoever he'd hit was still alive but definitely out of commission. Meanwhile footsteps were sounding from the kitchen and edging closer by the second, but he couldn't gage which direction they were coming from as he mentally gambled with edging left or right around the barrier of the couch.
Just as Wyatt was about to stand up and return fire a figure rounded the corner of the sofa where he was crouching, and Flynn's goon came into view. The angular faced man already had his own gun raised, pointed to aim just between Wyatt's eyes, his finger reaching for the trigger as if in slow motion. Wyatt raised his glock, but somehow intuitively knew that he wasn't going to pull the trigger in time, just one more second and he'd be dead-
A shot was fired, and yet he felt no pain.
Wyatt blinked, noticed the blood oozing from the goon's chest, and stood to his feet as opponent fell to his knees and collapsed face forward onto the floor, dead. Just behind the bleeding assailant Wyatt could see Ness holding his own pistol as he lowered it back to his side and reloaded.
"Thanks for that." Wyatt said, still catching his breath.
Ness nodded solemnly. "Don't mention it. I owe it to you anyway. It would've been me hittin' the floorboards if you two hadn't shown up."
Ness reached to shake Wyatt's hand in gratitude, and then pleasantly surprised Rufus by extending the same grace to him as well. It seemed all a black guy had to do to get a little respect in the 1930's was saving a someone's life. A ridiculously high bar to be sure, but Rufus was glad for the change of attitude if not in heart.
Ness bent to survey the body sprawled out by the couch, checked his pulse and confirmed that he was dead. Meanwhile Wyatt and Rufus made their way toward the other man slumped against the wardrobe who was still breathing. The man cracked a heavy eye lid as the two of them approached, moaning in pain as he clutched his wounded shoulder.
"Ness was s'pposed to be alone." The man slurred. "Was gonna be an easy job…"
Rufus watched the man with a mixture of disgust and anxiety before turning his attention to Wyatt. "What should we do with him? We can't have him running back to Capone."
"I don't think he's going to be running anywhere in this state." Wyatt replied as he mulled over their options. Ness eventually stood, having not found any identifying markers on the dead man's body, and after searching the rest of the apartment for potential threats, informed them that he was going downstairs to phone the police.
Rufus glanced over his shoulder, watching Ness go. Only after the door shut firmly behind him did he guide Wyatt a few steps away into the kitchen and quietly ask, "Is it safe to leave this guy alive?"
Wyatt couldn't help but do a double take at Rufus' indirect suggestion, especially with the bleeding man listening just a few paces away. "Hardly the first thing I'd expect to hear coming from you."
Rufus looked uncomfortable, the weight of what he'd implied bearing down on him as he reflected on how much he'd changed in the past year. How the person he was before all this started would have been appalled that he could even toy with the idea of killing someone, and now he was forced to weigh the tactical practicality of it with far less compassion than he would have thought himself capable of. He didn't like what this fight was turning him into.
Wyatt watched his friend struggle with his own heightened tolerance for violence and the fraying moral boundaries that were becoming increasingly difficult to navigate as Flynn and Rittenhouse both tried to force the team to stoop to their level. After all, what was the point of fighting against someone if you were willing to be just as ruthless as they were?
Rufus raised his eyebrows at him in the stagnant silence as if to ask, well, what's it going to be?
His military instinct told him that an enemy's compromised asset was a dangerous liability to have lying around, especially if he were to somehow get loose and feed details of the encounter back to Capone and/or Flynn. But another voice in his head reminded him that this was a human life he held in his hands, and it was a voice that sounded an awful lot like a certain historian.
The guy was just a kid really, no more than 21 at the most Wyatt guessed as he snuck a look at the lad's face over the kitchen counter. He was dozing, his chin bobbing against his chest as more blood soaked through his shirtfront. Once upon a time Wyatt was a young, stupid, hot headed kid making stupid decisions who got lucky and managed to turn it around. Who was he to say that he deserved a second chance, and this kid didn't?
Wyatt shook his head. "No, we have to leave him alive. We shouldn't change history more than we have to. He might be a misguided scumbag, but he's probably a scumbag that's supposed to live."
He also comforted himself in the knowledge that the perp would most likely be under lock and key even once they managed to get him to a hospital, so the odds of him relaying any intel or details about his encounter with the two 'private detectives' were slim.
Decision made, he quickly swiped some dish towels off of Ness' kitchen counter before approaching the writhing young man and kneeling down to his level before wrapping the fabric over the wound to make a makeshift tourniquet.
"This is going to hurt." Wyatt warned. The young man winced as Wyatt tightened the knot, struggling to stifle a pained choking sound which he buried into his other shoulder while biting down on the material of his coat.
"Why are you tendin' me?" The boy asked incredulously, involuntarily gasping as he watched Wyatt patch him up. He looked like he couldn't decide whether to be offended or grateful, which resulted in his face contorting in an odd combination of furious disbelief.
"Because you're too young to be caught up in all this, and you deserve a chance at a fresh start once this is all over. I'm not gonna let you bleed out." Wyatt replied earnestly, finishing up the bandage. "Take your hand and apply pressure to your shoulder, try and hold out until the police get here. You'll cooperate if you know what's good for you."
With that Wyatt stood and returned to Rufus' side, missing the gob smacked face the kid directed at his retreating back. But the young man did as he was told, and only went so far as to only stare at the pair of time travelers from across the room as he followed Wyatt's instructions.
Rufus watched the whole exchange in silence, looking secretly relieved that Wyatt had argued against any backstreet execution for the sake of tying up loose ends. "You know, you're starting to sound like Lucy." He said when Wyatt rejoined him in the kitchen.
At that, Wyatt couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at his lips, wistful at the thought of her. "Somebody has to be the voice of reason until we get her back."
Rufus looked like he could think of another reason why Wyatt was so keen on Lucy's 'protect history' philosophy but didn't have time to comment before Ness came trudging back inside.
"The police are on their way." He announced. "And an ambulance too. We'll escort this one to the hospital before we take him down to the precinct for questioning. I'm sure he'll have a lot to say."
The kid was now glaring daggers into the back of Ness' head, but Ness couldn't even be bothered to turn around.
"That sounds like a good plan. But we have to…go." Rufus informed him, awkward as ever.
At Ness' confused expression Wyatt added, "We still have to deal with Flynn, Capone's new right-hand man, and then rescue our colleague."
With this part of the mission completed he found himself impatient, the instinct to go back for Lucy an all-encompassing need. And this time he wasn't going to take no for an answer no matter how many mobsters were wandering around the penthouse or how many locks were on the door.
"Something tells me she's more than your colleague." Ness observed, cocking a questioning eyebrow.
After getting over the initial shock involved with admitting that even Eliot Ness could see right through him, Wyatt just came out and said it. "Yes, I suppose she is."
Rufus looked proud, if not a little smug, but Wyatt didn't have the heart to care.
Then, for the first time since Wyatt had met him, Ness smiled. "Well then you'd better get going."
Wyatt and Rufus waited a few more minutes until the police showed up before making a swift exit. But not before Eliot Ness thanked them both again, promised to put the repossessed tax evidence to good use in court, and finally wished them good luck.
"What do you know? The Untouchable One is kind of a softy." Wyatt remarked as they clambered back into their stolen car and Rufus revved up the engine.
"Not a bad guy once you get to know him." Rufus agreed. "He's like Shrek. He has layers."
"What?"
Rufus groaned with the disappointed agony of a misunderstood teenager. "We really need to work on your pop culture knowledge, man."
Wyatt rolled his eyes. "You can lecture me about movie references when we're back in the present. Let's get back to the Lexington. One last stop before home."
"Hopefully home is the same as we left it when we get there." Rufus mumbled balefully as he pulled the car our onto the street and sped away from the hotel.
What neither them saw was the pair of narrowed eyes watching them from a few floors up, a body crouched stealthily on a low hanging fire escape in the darkened side alley, out of sight. Nobody had heard it in the commotion that erupted from the fire fight, but there had been a third assailant hiding out in Ness' bedroom for backup. Like the coward he was he'd slipped out the open window when he heard things starting to go south, lying in wait on the fire escape until the coast was clear. He made a quick note of the two men leaving the scene, almost sure that they were the two who had interfered with their whole operation. But didn't have much time to linger on the thought as he heard the sound of cars and sirens approaching in the distance. The miscreant deftly slid down the ladder until his feet hit the pavement and wasted no time in racing down the back alleyway before the police showed up.
He certainly had a lot to tell his boss.