Chapter 9
Jo winced when she leaned her head back against what felt like a tall, cold metal plate. She lifted her hands up, having instinctively extended them to try and break her fall, and looked down at them from under heavy lids. Her gaze was hazy and unfocused, and she made a mental note to herself to take it easy, because it could mean that she had a concussion. Tiny bits and pieces of glass were embedded in her palms here and there, and she saw several bloody scratches, which stung like hell −− as did more places on her body that she couldn't even name or indicate right then.
Jo couldn't help the idea of a long, hot shower in her own home now. A bath would be even better, though, and she wished that she had one, desperately. You typically only realize the worth of something when you don't have it, or rather don't anymore. She hadn't thought she would need one after having had a bathtub in the house she and Russ had shared and having barely used it.
As Jo's focus slowly returned to her surroundings, she frowned. No matter what was going on right now, no matter what was the cause of the noises she couldn't place or even properly discern, the operation would be over that day. It was unfortunate that all of her sacrifices from the past weeks were worthless now −− or so it felt. She would see this all through until the end, though, even if it was the last she did. Taking a deep breath and mentally steeling herself for the pain she knew was going to shoot all throughout her body, she placed her palms beside her and pushed upwards, ignoring the Special Forces agent beside her, who made to push her back down, to wait for the medical help he thought she must need.
A small cry escaped her before she muffled it by sucking her bottom lip between her teeth and forcing herself to get up in one go, just to get it over with, like a Band-Aid that needed to be ripped off. She shut her eyes for a moment as she swallowed the bile that bubbled up in her throat at the insane nausea that overcame her. A few deep breaths as she opened her eyes slowly made Jo feel okay enough to move again a moment later. Casting her hazel eyes down, noting the gun lying on the floor beside her, she bent down and retrieved it with her right hand, forcing the dizzy spell back with a shake of the head before placing one foot before the other and making her way to the door. Mac had told her to stay put. That was not going to happen.
As she continued one step at a time with the Special Forces agent in tow, towards the door where she had seen Mac disappear through earlier, the noise grew louder and louder. Taking her gun in both hands for more stability, she kicked the slightly ajar door open further, enabling her to pass through it. She ducked and slid down by the corner of the building, so as to not be in anyone's direct line of view and thus risk getting shot. Jo let her eyes slide over the scene before her, trying to see what was happening where and exactly what would be the best way for her to help. From the corner of her eye, she saw two Special Forces Agents use their weight to their advantage and slam an opponent down, and a little farther, she saw Mac do the same to another man, single-handedly. She felt her heart skip a beat for one reason or another that she quickly suppressed, before properly exploring her feelings further. Mac Taylor was made for this job, no denying. Maybe she wasn't as much made for the job as she had once thought she was, though, given the situation they were all in now because of her.
She just managed to locate another figure approaching Mac in a less than friendly way. Making her decision in a split second, Josephine Danville came upright and ran, half-ducked, for the man, using her gun to fire off a bullet at him when she saw him reach for his. Jo's bullet missed, but she had at least distracted him enough, so he no longer had a chance at one shot at her colleague, and she had also alerted Mac to the danger.
Don Flack came from the direction the felon just had and reached him, first, throwing himself on top of him, the men struggling for some seconds before the detective managed to overpower him on the cold, hard concrete, and pulled his hands to his back harshly. "Son of a bitch!" came Don's cussing tone.
Special Forces reached their side, coming as if from nowhere to take over, so that both Mac and Don could get to their feet and catch their breaths, the culprit led away by Special Forces. The Lieutenant eyed his surroundings with his suspicious gaze for a few more seconds as they stood in the middle of an open space, good targets for whoever wanted to harm them.
"We're all clear. Barrow called back-up as soon as the first shots were fired, and they have secured a perimeter. I thought that one was going to go down easily, but he made me run for it after all," Don said, a head shake from him indicating the man Jo had tried to shoot. "That's twice she saved your life today, pal. You're lucky she saw him," he added, addressing Mac Taylor.
The Lieutenant regarded Jo, and a small smile of thanks pulled at Mac's lips. "Indeed. I owe her," he said, before turning away from her again, back to Don Flack, poised to ask a question that Don had apparently already known was coming. Before Mac could form words, Don Flack was responding.
"I'll go check up with Barrow," he confirmed, nodding at Jo and Mac both before he turned his back to them and followed in the Special Agents' wake to find the commander and get an update on their action.
They both looked after him for a few seconds before turning to each other.
"Ha Ming got away. I'm sorry, Jo," he spoke before Jo had a chance to ask the question he knew she was burning to ask now.
"Damn it," Jo mouthed. Ha Ming and his gang had only managed to get away as a consequence of her stupidity. They could have gotten so much more from this operation than they had, if she just hadn't been caught too soon.
"Jo, don't…"
