Author's Note: Thanks to all for such inspiring feedback. I appreciate the time you've given my little tale!
Part 8
Nathan glanced nervously over his shoulder. Even in the poor light, Martin could see that he was conflicted about something as he muttered and moved between his patients. Vin hadn't stirred since being pulled up from the Outlook.
"My foot is really hurting," Martin said softly with a hiss. "You sure about leaving the boot on?"
The medic moved to his side. "Well, no, I'm not. What I'm concerned about it that fire. If we have to move fast I'd rather your ankle was supported. Keep it elevated for now until we know what's what."
A few minutes later Chris re-appeared and squatted next to Martin. He looked worriedly over to Vin before speaking. "I don't think we'll be forced to move," he said lowly. "There's no wind, and the recent snow has made everything wet enough to be okay."
"Is there one of those fire watch stations around here?"
Chris chuckled. "No. It's not wilderness enough anymore to man year-round. Rangers cruise the area and I'm hoping they see the smoke because being in this valley, I don't think they can see the flame. Most of the flame is gone, though. It's smoldering now." He shifted again and groaned. "I think we'll be alright until dawn."
"Vin seems to be holding his own," Martin said, looking past Chris to the unmoving dark form. "I can't feel him."
Chris threw him a look. "Me neither," he quietly replied. He turned and gently ran his hand over Vin's head. "It's like losing a part of yourself."
Martin could only nod.
Buck's outline moved toward them and settled next to Chris. "I think any fire danger is past," he said. "There's no phone reception anywhere. One of us should hike out and get help on the way."
"You volunteering?" Chris asked. "'Cause I'm not moving." His hand rested protectively on Vin's shoulder while his eyes met Buck's.
"Sure. Me 'n JD can start any time. We've been tryin' to conserve the flashlight batteries, so I think we'll make it."
"Where's Ezra and Josiah?"
"Josiah's watchin' the cabin and Ez is prowlin' around the perimeter."
"Okay, then, the sooner you go, the better for us. I don't think any kind of airlift can be done before dawn."
"I agree. Can y'all hold out 'til then?"
Chris studied Vin, pressing the back of his fingers against the lax cheek. "We'll have to because I sure as hell don't want to move him. Take off, Buck."
The mustached agent nodded once and rose, hesitating momentarily before moving off.
"You okay with that?" Chris asked of Martin after Buck left.
"It's the best we can do."
"So tell me about this Federal Bomber," Chris said quietly, his eyes still on Vin. "I only know what I've heard in the news and from any training bulletins."
Martin shrugged. "You know about as much as I do. From what I saw in that shack, I think there may be a few targets he wasn't credited with. We'll have to check county records to see who owns that land. That in itself would be more than anything else they have."
He paused as he adjusted his injured leg, grunting in pain with the motion. Chris dragged over another backpack and settled it under Martin's leg.
"Better?" Chris asked.
Martin chuckled painfully. "It's as good as it's gonna get, I think."
The night passed slowly. Martin dozed fitfully while the other's shared shifts. There was talk about moving closer to the smoldering shack for warmth, but Martin didn't want any part of that and the others respected his wishes.
As dawn grayed the sky the guttural pounding of a helicopter came from the east. Chris rose groggily, rubbing his eyes and allowing the sleeping bag to slip from his shoulders. "I'll get the others."
In order to keep warm, one team member stayed with the brothers while the two took advantage of the heat of the burned cabin. Vin and Martin shared an open sleeping bag while their guard at the moment used the second bag.
The night seemed longer than normal but now that a rescue was in motion, time sped up. Josiah and Ezra appeared, shadowy bags under their eyes. Chris and Ezra hauled Martin to his feet as Josiah simply lifted the still unconscious Vin in his arms.
"Get to the edge of the cliff," Chris instructed. "They'll probably do a one-skid hover. There's no place to land."
The got as close to the edge as they dared, what was left of the team watched as the helicopter approached. The pilot carefully and skillfully rested one skid on the edge of the cliff, allowing the medics within to exit and pack up Vin's still form. Once he was loaded, Martin was strapped to a Stokes basket and also loaded up.
Leaving the others behind, Martin watched the silver face of the Outlook fall away as he and his brother were air lifted to Denver.
MAG7WATMAG7WAT
The remaining three watched the helicopter fly away. Once it was out of sight, Chris turned to Josiah and Ezra.
"We need to check what's left of that cabin and seal off the area. There's got to be something in there that will tell us who the bomber is."
"I dare say it is a folly to think along those lines," Ezra started, obviously in poor humor. "There is nothing remaining but soot and ash. It would be better to leave it for the evidentiary experts. We may inadvertently destroy something of value."
Chris could tell by Josiah's long look and shrug of shoulder that the profiler agreed with Ezra, which made Chris' gut burn. Frustrated, he ran his hands through his hair and let out an explosive breath. "I feel like I'm wasting time," he growled.
Josiah gripped his shoulder and gave him an affectionate shake. "I'd be grateful to catch some sleep," he said. "So you can work off some of that energy standin' guard."
"Hear, hear," Ezra agreed.
The two of them turned in the direction of the burnt cabin and shuffled away. Larabee's glare wasn't very effective on the retreating agents' backs.
MAG7WATMAG7WAT
Martin was jerked awake as the helicopter door was pushed open. He was amazed he was able to sleep at all, considering the noise of the aircraft. Blinking at the sudden brightness, he tried to find Vin but the number of bodies barking orders and quickly moving around him blocked any chance of that. Instead, he relaxed into the pillows and used his ears.
By the time he was in an exam room he knew that Vin was on his way to radiology. The gurney had barely stopped when JD stuck his in the room.
"Hey, Martin. How're ya doin'?"
Martin grinned. "I'm good. Could use a shower, though." He scratched his head and felt grit embed under his nails.
"I know what you mean." The young agent settled next to the gurney. "We had time to hit the shower and get a short nap before coming here. Is it broken?" JD indicated Martin's ankle.
"Don't know yet. Vin's getting x-rayed first. Is Buck with him?"
"Yeah. We figured its better safe than sorry. Don't know if that nutjob'll come after you two or not."
Martin snorted. "I have a feeling that guy's in the wind. He hasn't made it this long without getting caught by being stupid. And walking into a busy hospital like this would be stupid." He flinched as he moved. "I do have to call in, though. I need to extend my leave time and give my statement to the investigators."
He toyed with the idea of letting his parents know what was going on. Although Martin was having a hard time thinking of Victor Fitzgerald as being his father, he considered Katherine his mother and she deserved an update directly from her son. Martin didn't trust Victor to tell her the whole story, if he told her anything at all.
Vin was a sore subject between Martin and Victor ever since Martin had found his twin brother. The discovery had greatly increased the emotional chasm between them and Katherine was unintentionally suspended in the middle. After the twin's reunion, she had spent a short time under a doctor's care to deal with the stress, but firmly stood her ground. Against Victor's wishes, she'd made it clear that she was willing to have two sons if Vin would have her.
Victor, however, had made it very clear that Vin was not what he wanted in a son even though they were biologically his. He had been painfully tolerant of Vin just to appease the wife he adored. Martin could only see this latest event as more fuel to the fire; Victor did not want his wife worrying about anything let alone a trailer-trash, shaggy-haired Texan with dyslexia.
"You probably won't be admitted," JD said as he dropped onto the wheeled stool in the examining room. Unable to sit still, he slowly twirled around on the spinning seat as he spoke. "So you'll be able to clean up and call from the house. Or are you going back to Vin's apartment? It's closer."
"The apartment, I guess."
That was as far as their conversation went before the doctor arrived and booted JD from his stool.
MAG7WATMAG7WAT
Hours later a weary and store Martin, fresh from Vin's sporadically hot shower, dropped onto his brother's well worn couch and pulled the telephone closer. Checking the time and being surprised that it was only early in the afternoon, he called his boss, Jack Malone.
"Malone." Jack's voice bordered on a growl.
"Hey, Jack, it's Martin."
"How's the wild west? Have a nice family reunion?"
"It's been great but there's been a little setback." Martin went on to explain the situation. "The good news is that my ankle is only sprained. The bad news is that Vin hasn't come around yet. I'll need more time." He could imagine Jack rubbing his eyes and shaking his head. He'd predicted from the start that the united twins could only be doubled trouble.
"Take what time you need. What about the bomber investigation? Have you given your statement to the investigator yet?"
"Not yet. I drew a diagram of the house interior for the forensic team and they're at the cabin now. The media hasn't gotten wind of it yet."
Jack laughed. "Oh, that's not gonna last long. I hope you plan on informing daddy Deputy Director before he sees it on the five o'clock news."
"Damn," Martin sighed. "I hadn't thought of that. You're right."
"Now there's a call I don't envy you making. Take care, Martin, and keep your head down. Keep me updated."
"Will do. I'll be at the hospital so my phone will be off."
"Just check voice mail regularly. I'll let you know if I hear anything on this end."
"Okay. Bye, Jack." Martin hung up and sagged on the couch. He had an hour until JD was going to pick him up to check on Vin. He could call both Victor and Samantha in that time and considered for about a half-second which to call first. With a smile, he dialed.
MAG7WATMAG7WAT
Chris sat hunched over in the comfort-challenged plastic hospital chair, forearms resting on his thighs and a lukewarm cardboard cup of coffee between his hands. After the crime scene had been taken over by the FBI investigators, he'd been able to quickly shower and change at Buck and JD's place before claiming his spot next to Vin here at the hospital. His friend had been moved from the ICU to a monitored room
The shrapnel had been picked from his friend's body and the head wound stitched and thickly bandaged without Vin waking up. The doctors found a worrisome subdural hematoma causing the unconsciousness and were keeping a close eye on it. Their only prognosis was "wait and see".
It was the waiting part that had Chris irritated. He was admittedly not good at it.
Vin had been lucky, actually, that the shrapnel didn't do as much damage as it could have. There was a chip in his scapula and a bruised lung from the nail, but the other bits had been picked out with little effort. If Vin had not turned away from the blast, his abdomen would have been shredded.
Chris sighed. The doctors were unable to pinpoint the effects of the head injury until Vin woke. All that ran through his head now was Martin's comment that Vin couldn't see very well and the doctors couldn't say if it was permanent or not. It all came down to this waiting game that Chris was too familiar with. His team played that game much too often.
The motion of Vin's head rolling a little to one side caught Chris' attention and he looked up. The muscles of his friend's face twitched, a slight frown shadowing his forehead and mouth for a moment.
"Vin?"
Chris stood, quickly setting the coffee cut aside and leaned over the bedrail. Vin's heart monitor showed an irregular beat and his fingers flexed jerkily.
"Hey, pardner, you wakin' up?" he asked, lying the flat of his hand on Vin's chest. Chris could feel a tremor under his hand. "Vin?"
A few long, uncomfortable seconds passed tinged with the uneven sound of Vin's breathing. Chris leaned in a little closer, concerned, and was relieved to hear the door swish open. He straightened and turned, a sharp comment on his tongue, when all the monitors suddenly shrieked and the body of his friend launched into a violent seizure.
To Be Continued (if my Muse allows . . . it seems to have abandoned me at the moment, which is why this chapter is later than usual!)
