Chapter Eight: Not Leaving Without Him
The three Chevy Tahoes pulled up to the rusted iron gates, locked and chained with a heavy padlock. Sam paused the lead truck long enough to check his position, then let the truck roll forward into the gate, the truck's push bumper breaking the chain with ease, forcing the gates open and clearing the way. The trucks rolled through, racing up the drive. They spotted the black van used for the abduction as they pulled up on the concrete apron near the factory. Ed slid out of his truck, pulling his sidearm as he went. The rest of his team scrambled out, weapons ready. "Spike, check that van," he ordered.
Spike raced over to the van, yanking the back doors open and sweeping the inside. "Clear."
Walking towards the factory, Ed snapped, "I want everything non-conductive- rubberized climbers, Gorilla Bars, everything. Spike, floor plans?"
"Nothing I could find," the tech admitted.
Looking up, Ed decided, "All right, we're gonna eyeball this one. Let's fan out. Low profile. And talk to me."
Lance surveyed the door grimly, waiting until the retreating trio was far enough to miss the sound of two kids tumbling down off the magical ledge. He crept over to it, examining the lock.
"Well?" Alanna hissed, her voice just above a whisper.
The young man shook his head. "I do it now, those three will hear," he hissed back. "We know where the room is, let's follow them until they're far enough away."
Alanna considered a moment, then nodded reluctantly. So far, her brother had been right; she'd just have to trust he was still right. They turned, hurrying, but staying far enough back and in cover enough that the trio never realized they were there.
Haley was still being physically pushed by the tall goon, his grip on her arms keeping her from escaping. "No. Please you can't do this."
"This is for you," Kevin replied, his voice mostly flat, but also ingratiating, as if he was also saying, How could you be so ungrateful? After everything I've done for you.
"Please," Haley begged, her voice rising, "You can't do this."
Tall Goon snapped, "I swear, if you don't shut up…"
"No!"
The teens following traded looks. Just a bit further and they could go back, get their uncle out without the bad guys knowing.
Wordy and Lou raced side by side, weapons up and ready, reaching the side wall in moments. "Every window on green wall's secure- bars and grates."
On the opposite side, Jules and Spike pushed themselves faster as Jules reported, "Same on red. We're on black wall now."
Ed and Sam angled for a heavy door on their wall, Ed remarking, "Same on white," as Sam tried the door. The rusted panels on either side of the door were coated with graffiti, something both officers ignored.
Sam examined the door a moment, then looked up, shaking his head. "The only way we're getting in there is with a cutting torch."
"No flames; too risky. Anybody else have an entrance? And check for explosives."
On the rear wall, Spike and Jules located a chained gate, the paint still blue and untouched by graffiti. "Possible entry on black wall," Jules called. "Heavily fortified though." As Spike pulled out his equipment and handed Jules a tin of wipes, she added, "We're testing now."
Halfway across the bottom floor, just as the kids were about to turn back, Haley turned on Tall Goon, snapping, "Let me go!" She swiped at him, breaking free and immediately turning to race back.
"You $^#*%!" Tall Goon cried, grabbing her arm and pulling her back, his other arm lifting to strike her.
It was a mistake; Kevin turned on him, charging forward to yank Haley away and shoving his gun in Tall Goon's face. "Don't you touch her!"
Tall Goon had had enough, backing away and saying, "This is your problem, man."
Lance and Alanna had taken full advantage, turning and racing back towards their trapped uncle. Lance, who'd summoned his Animagus hearing to keep a watch out, heard Haley plead, "We have to go back."
Kevin's response was oh-so-predictable. "Oh, Haley, just please trust me, okay? Trust me."
Jules wiped the lock, handing the wipe back to Spike, who immediately put it in his scanner. It bleeped at him, prompting a grim, "Guys, heavy nitrate residue on this door. It's too risky."
Ed's eyes went hard, the frantic, No, not Greg; please, I want my friend back, mantra shoved in a tiny box at the back of his head. "We need an entrance, people. Wordy, Lou, can you make it happen?"
A discouraged, "Not without making a lot of noise," came from Wordy.
"Come on, people, we got to get in here."
In the next moment, his prayer was answered as noise came from the door he and Sam were next to. "Ed, we've got movement on white," Sam hissed.
"All right," Lou called over the comm, he and Wordy already hurrying back.
Sam scrambled to the other side of the door, out of sight, while Ed moved outwards, judging how far the door would swing. As the subject walked out, so angry he didn't even look, Ed lunged, letting his fury out as he grabbed the man, slammed him against the wall, and shoved him up, snarling, "How many inside?"
The punk did what most punks do when confronted with a superior force; he folded, wailing and sniveling. "It's not my fault! I didn't want to do it!"
Ed slammed him against the wall again and tightened his grip on the punk's throat. "How many?"
"Two," the punk spat. "Plus the cop."
"Plus the cop," Ed growled, his face twisted in rage. He let go of the punk's throat, grabbed his jacket and ordered, "Keep him here." As Spike took charge of the prisoner, Ed continued, "Sam, Wordy, Lou, with me."
Spike took the opportunity to vent his own fury as he whirled the punk around, slamming him against the paneling and yelling, "Turn around! Hands on the wall! Keep still!"
Still not realizing just how much trouble he was in, the punk snapped, "Relax, man!"
As the four entered the building, Ed felt something pulse, desperation, fear, and panic slamming into him, one right after the other; he staggered. Beside him, Wordy, Lou, and Sam also staggered. It only took a second for realization to hit him…Greg's 'team sense', it had to be. Somehow, his boss had managed to turn it back on itself, broadcasting his emotions and location. Why had he waited so long? Or had Greg been trying to reach them all along and they just hadn't been close enough? Before they could act on the new…information…the 'team sense' stuttered, faltered, and died. Ed froze, praying, with all his heart, that his boss hadn't just died too.
Then he spotted movement and yelled, "Police! Get down!"
"Drop your weapon!" Sam's own voice rang out, shaky, but loud.
"Police! Get down!" Ed ordered again, seeing two individuals as the cops charged into the larger room. One female, unarmed; one male, armed and with a grip on the female's arm.
"Stay back!" the male shouted, dragging his hostage with him as he made for the cover of the building's support beams.
"You have to help him, please!" the female shrieked, giving Ed a very good clue of who she was; he glanced at Wordy and the man gave him a single nod. Haley.
From behind the pillar, Ed heard the male hiss, "Stop. S-Stop."
"Where's Greg Parker?" Ed demanded.
"He's dead!"
This time, Ed didn't flinch at the words. Greg had been alive just a few seconds ago, alive enough to pull a stunt none of them had thought possible. Instead, he signaled Wordy and Lou, ordering them to search for their Sergeant. As they left, Ed and Sam advanced on the pair, a meter or so apart and weapons raised.
"It's over," the male claimed.
"Okay, you're Kevin, right?"
Ed blinked as he again heard what he shouldn't have, though the enhanced hearing was already fading, as if it had been tied to the brief contact his boss had been able to make. "Shh," Kevin whispered to his captive; she was struggling, he could hear it.
"Is that Haley with you?" Ed asked. "We're here to help, buddy. We just want to talk."
"We don't need your help!" Kevin shouted.
"Let's just calm down here, Kevin. Let's just talk about this."
Magic sang, pulsing. They were here, the team was here. But there was no time to wait for them, no time to waste. Alanna skidded in front of her brother as they reached the door; refusing to wait, she flung out her right hand and snapped, "Tospringe." The lock, forced open against the broken key, broke itself; the magic overpowering the metal and sending the shards of the lock driving deep into the wood. The teens paid no attention as they hauled the door open to see their beloved uncle slumped sideways on the floor, unconscious as the gas hissed and the lamp timer ticked down. Blood dripped down his face, gleaming wetly in the dim light.
Jules was less than an inch from the cuffed punk leaning against the front of the lead truck, her voice low, furious, and intense. "Do you want to make this more complicated than it has to be?"
"No, I don't," the punk claimed.
Grabbing him, she ordered, "Then tell us how to get our friend out of there safely!"
"We can't!" he cried. "It's gonna blow up in, like, five minutes, and we have to get away!"
Spike spread the alert, yelling, "Guys, it's gonna detonate in five minutes. You need to get out of there right now!"
"Not going anywhere without the Boss," Ed retorted.
Wordy and Lou raced through the factory, chasing the echo of those precious few seconds they'd been able to detect their boss's exact location. Wordy, behind Lou, took a moment to wonder if that was what Greg felt from all of them, all the time. If so, he was more impressed that his boss was still sane than indignant over the invasion of privacy.
As much as they both wanted to fly to their uncle's side, they handled the room's traps first. Alanna darted to the side table, yanking the plug out of the power strip, shutting down the deadly lamp timer. Lance threw himself at the propane tanks, turning the valves to stop the flow of gas. As the room fell silent, they turned toward their uncle.
"We need to know where Greg is, Kevin," Ed called. "We can work everything else out, but we need to know where Greg is."
Kevin's denial rang in his tone as well as his words. "No. No. He doesn't get to be the hero. Not this time."
Ed shook his head. "Nobody's trying to be a hero here, Kevin." He lowered his voice. "I need a 20 on the Sarge."
"Nothing so far," Lou reported.
The pair exchanged looks as Wordy thought, hard, concentrating on where the emotions had felt like they were coming from. "Felt…north…"
"Maybe a little east," Lou rejoined.
"Northeast corner," Wordy decided, before calling, "We're on our way."
"Kevin, can you tell me what this is about?" Ed coaxed. Maybe a little negotiating might get them enough leverage.
"Yeah, yeah, I can tell you in five minutes," Kevin called back. Punk. "In five minutes, I can tell you everything."
The faint sounds of a struggle reached the two cops; Haley hadn't liked that one bit.
"He's stalling," Ed breathed. "I need some answers here, people, now."
Outside, the punk was looking up, looking anywhere but at the angry cop in his face. "Look at me!" Jules ordered. "Look at me!" As the punk finally looked down at her, she demanded, "What did he tell Haley?"
Cowed again, the punk spilled. "About her mom. Something about her mom."
"Ed, it's something about Haley's mom."
"Kevin…is this about Haley's mom?"
"I don't want to hear anymore lies, okay? So stop talking!"
Ed wasn't a beaten, captive man, so he had no intention of bowing to the juvenile meth head. "All right, we'll stop! Just tell us where Greg is, and we'll stop all of this, Kevin!"
"Uncle Greg," Alanna pleaded, crouching by her uncle's still form.
Lance checked his pulse, breathing out in relief. "He's alive, 'Lanna."
A soft, incoherent sound came from below them, the fallen Sergeant beginning to stir again.
"Easy, Uncle, easy," Lance coached. "We've got you, we've got you."
Wordy had taken the lead as they darted up the stairs, searching the northeast corner, but there was nothing…no one. He felt his shoulders slump, where was Sarge?
For an instant, something brushed him, brushed both of them, but again, it was gone too quickly to get a fix on.
"It's like chasing echoes," Lou remarked.
Wordy's shoulders straightened. "We've got to keep going, find him."
"Kevin, I need to know what you told Haley about that night. Kevin?"
Stubborn, insolent anger rang in the young man's tones. "I told her the truth, okay? That, that he killed her mom!"
"Who, who killed her mom?" He could guess what Kevin believed, but it was wrong.
"You know who kill- Greg did!" Yeah, that's what I thought you thought. "Don't try to cover for him, okay? Because I know what happened. He was the only one in the room!"
No, he wasn't. "He didn't tell you?" Ed started, grim and planning to have words with his boss once this was over. "Okay, Kevin, you want the truth? Here it is. Haley's the one who shot her mother." He paused, listening hard. Nothing understandable. "Now, I know, I know you don't want to believe that."
"I did not shoot my mother," Haley wailed.
"Greg didn't tell you, Haley, because you were a kid. You didn't mean to shoot anybody, all right? He knew what that would do to you, that's all. The poster in your room. Remember the poster?"
He was waking up, regaining consciousness, still alive. But alive had an unpleasant surprise as his niece's voice rang out, "Is he gonna be okay?"
And worse, his nephew answered. "I think so, 'Lanna. That guy hit him pretty hard, but it mostly looks like cuts and bruises." A pause, his nephew changing position. "I'm worried about this, but it looks like it's been there for a while. There's dry blood on it."
"What are you doing here?" Greg tried to demand, but it only came out as a mumble.
"He's waking up," Alanna cried with joy, though she kept her voice down.
"Yeah, and we gotta go," Lance agreed, already shifting his position again. "Uncle Greg?"
Greg tried, really tried to shift, to get up, but he couldn't…not yet. He did manage another mumble, demanding that they go, but even if he'd been clear, they wouldn't have gone.
"Easy, Uncle Greg," Lance soothed. "I'm gonna get you up; everything's gonna be okay."
She remembered…it was like she was right there again, lying in bed, watching the poster…her one link to a better world. Her mother's voice ringing out, her mother appearing in the doorway; scrambling under her bed.
But this time, when she saw her mother trip and fall, she also saw the gun slide across the floor to her, an inch from her hand. Her mother turned, crying, "Get it. Baby, get the gun!"
She reached out for the gun, heard the shot, saw the poster. The poster, spattered with blood, forever marred.
"That's how the cops found out. There was blood on the poster. That the shot could only have come from inside the room, from the floor. Now, that gun had a hair trigger on it, Haley. It had a hair trigger. It could have happened to anybody, anybody. Now, I know Greg, like you do. And he must have had a pretty good reason not to tell you this today."
Haley saw him enter the room, cross to her bed, lift the skirt and meet her eyes. Saw him look over and reach out, tugging the gun away from her mother's body. Look back at her, eyes gentle and kind. "I got you."
Uncle Greg groaned, still not really coherent, not really more than half-conscious yet. But, even with the bomb disabled, Lance was pretty sure they were running out of time. So the teenager leaned over his uncle and started pulling him up, getting one of his uncle's arms around his neck and using his muscles, weight, and sheer determination to heft the stocky man up. They were about the same height, though Uncle Greg was convinced Lance was going to end up much taller; Lance came close to overbalancing as his uncle's dead weight dragged at him, but he stubbornly refused to let go, shifting his uncle until he could stand and they could move. He threw a nod at the door and Alanna obeyed, heading out first with Lance and Uncle Greg on her heels.
"Now, I want my friend to live. And I'm betting you do, too," Ed finished, hoping, praying.
With soft sobs, Haley admitted, "I had the gun." She managed to break loose from Kevin, backing into the open. "It was in my hand. It was my fault. I remember."
But Kevin wasn't about to let it happen, wasn't about to give up on what he'd spent the last hours, days, weeks for. He roared in rage and denial, spinning away from the building beam in fury. "No! No! He doesn't get to be the hero this time!" So saying, he aimed his gun…at Haley.
Ed and Sam were out of position; Kevin was still behind the beam, still protected. All they could do was watch…and pray the building didn't go up when Kevin fired.
Thu-whirrr, thuunng came, sudden sounds that made Kevin jerk back, his gaze going upwards in shock and disbelief. The gun rose with his gaze, aiming up at something none of them could see. Haley bolted as soon as the gun was off of her, Kevin's eyes sweeping back downwards as he snarled, like an animal, at his prize escaping.
Sam moved, tackling Kevin from behind and taking him down with a furious roar of his own. "Down on the ground! Drop it!"
Ed grabbed Haley, hauling her behind him and looking up himself as he moved forward. His jaw dropped at the sight of Alanna, in full armor, holding her bow and looking pleased and smug as she looked down at the now down and being cuffed Kevin. Without thinking, Ed's eyes dropped to the beam and he blinked. An arrow, still vibrating, was embedded in the metal less than three centimeters from where Kevin had been standing, at Kevin's eye level. The team leader sucked a breath in, looking upwards again…and nearly fell over in sheer relief. Lance, also in armor, under Greg's shoulder, supporting the injured man as they reached the catwalk. Ed felt his shoulders relax…it was finally over.
