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"So I asked an old buddy of mine who ran with Malachi years ago about places he remembers from when they were just boys. He gave me a couple old Reservation properties that could be potential hideouts." Walt's ears were attentive as Mathias shared his intel and handed Walt the addresses he had scribled on a napkin, the wearied Sheriff's heart was pounding with hope, or was it dread at what they might find.

"This is good news, I know one of these locations. This is a grain mill that has been shut down for at least twelve years." Walt pointed at the napkin. "It has a massive storage barn and the works, on about 15 acres of land. We will start there, I have a feeling in my gut that this is the place Mathias." The silky-haired lawmen stared at Walt with deep black eyes.

"You sure about that old gut of yours Walt, in my experience it sometimes gets a little mixed up on things." Mathias meant well and Walt knew that, there just was not enough time for them to argue about it. Walt shifted his weight and rubbed his jawline.

"I know we rarely saw eye to eye, but this isn't the time to revisit that tendency. I think that we should go to the mill Mathias, call it a hunch, gut filling, whatever you want ... but I am telling you; this is the one." Walt's eyes intensified as he held the gaze of his equally stubborn new ally. "Trust me on this." Mathias broke his stare and let out a long sigh before looking back at Walt.

"I trust you Walt, but if Malachi is there, he knows you're coming, so he will be ready for you. No way we survive it. No way Henry survives it, if he is even still alive." Walt heard the fear in Mathias' voice, he was scared too, it was honestly a suicide mission. Unless the element of surprise was still a trick worth trying.

"I would not blame you if this was the end of the line for you friend. I cannot repay you for all you have done, but I am going, one way or another. You can count on Malachi going with me if I die, I will not let him continue his reign of terror in my town." Walts voice was sultry and rough, Mathias smiled and shook his head.

"What kind of officer leaves just when a fellow lawman needs him most. May it never be said of me that I walked away from my responsibilities. I will not be that person, I'm in." Walt's cheeks flushed hot, he was furious that Henry still hadn't been found, but he was grateful to have Mathias at his side. The two men leaned back against Walt's Bronco, the almost inaudible rumble of it's engine hummed beneath them.

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Thirty, that's how many armed men Henry had counted so far. His best friend would be walking into a trap. He wasn't sure what kind of back up Walt would be able to get but he hoped there would be enough. It was so dusty that he was experiencing nose bleeds and tightness in his chest.

Henry let out a pained cough as he attempted to shift his weight from one leg to the other. He could no longer feel his backside and the tingling in his arms was driving him mad. It was the waiting that got to him most though, the unknown, his mind was consumed by the question of 'what if?' What if no help was coming? He did his best to push the thought out of his head, his throbbing, bleeding head ... no use.

"Hey, you want a smoke," his desiginated jailer looked down at him inquisitivly. "You look like you could use a smoke, after all it couldn't possibly do much more damage then what has already been done." Henry glanced up at the goon and gave a half smile.

"I will pass on the cigarette, I would appreciate some water though, any chance of that happening?" The man looked at Henry with a dumbfounded expression on his face as if he had asked him about some deeply philisophical mystery.

"Hahaha, you really thought I was gonna give you something, you are not too bright are you Standing Bear? Tell you what, how about I sing for you." The brute cleared his throat and began to sing "Home on the Range" with a low and shockingly soothing voice, Henry's heart beat seemed to steady and his jaw unclenched. If he was going to survive, he had to sleep ... hard as it was to get "comfortable" he had to rest. Malachi was planning to do away with all the loose ends he had, and Henry wanted to be ready to get away when the time came. Still, one thing seemed to keep him fully awake ... Walt had no idea the savage storm awaiting him.

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"For the record, I was not the one who suggested the spicy orange chicken ... Ferg insisted that you try both the mild and hot kind. I hope you like the feeling of your taste buds sizziling." Cady smiled at Vic as she passed her some pot stickers and a couple fortune cookies.

"Are you kidding this is great, I am so sick of hospital food, it has only been one day and I can hardly stomach it." Vic's eyes met Cady's and she smiled as she opened the styrofoam takeout container. The smell assaulted her senses and she closed her eyes in anticipation.

"How are you doing Vic, really?" Cady's question hung stagnant in the air, it was a hard one to answer. She looked at her, 'I am sick with grief because I was pregnant and my baby died, I was impulsive and stupid and I got shot. My heart feels like it is in a vice and there are no tears left. Also, I love your father and I know that it isn't right but it is true.' No words came out, instead she was resolved to take the easy road out and give the typical answer. Her eyes shot up to meet Cady's.

"I am doing better, feeling stronger too," Vic lied. Cady exhaled deeply, expressing relief. Vic was glad that she bought it and they both sat silently enjoying the food. Vic was grateful, it was far better than the tasteless goop she had been eating. "Thank you for being here Cady, it means so much to me." She meant it, the last thing she wanted right now was to be alone.