Full Moon and China White

By AJ

Chapter 11: 1 hour found

Victor Fitzgerald arrived with the paramedics after what seemed to Samantha to be an inexcusably long wait. The logical part of her mind knew the inner perimeter of such a large scene would be closed for quite a while, and that the powers in charge would be extremely careful about who would pass perimeter barriers, but this medical team still seemed later than it should be.

The team had moved Martin out of the hot, stuffy container to a shady spot outside, adjacent to the container itself. Jackets were turned into pillows and blankets in an attempt to keep their friend and teammate from the filthy ground. In the light of day, Martin looked worse than Samantha thought possible. He showed no sign of arousing from his unconscious state; remembering the severe cramps he'd suffered, part of her hoped he'd stay under.

Jack was on the phone constantly – once he knew that the Deputy Director was pulling strings to get the medical team in, the team leader instead focused on their surroundings.

From Danny, Samantha learned that the original shots she'd heard that seemed so faint had come from inside the ship; as a result, the DEA stormed the vessel. Sun was found dead, execution-style, and the Drug Agency had to work quickly to contain any witnesses. If word got out that Sun was dead, they would lose Zhan, and therefore Liang.

From Vivien, Samantha learned that now all the DEA had was the heroin shipment arriving that night, which couldn't be tied directly to Liang. It would be a good bust, but it wouldn't topple the syndicate as they had hoped. DEA had their hands full trying to control the massive scene and she knew the finger pointing had probably already started.

Hence the reason for Jack being constantly on the phone.

Jack had been right about the crate – Sun's last few minutes of life had been inside that box of wood. Samantha knew that Martin would blame himself; this whole affair was a huge mess, and she shook her head in exasperation.

Upon the Director's arrival, Martin was prepped and readied for transport by medics in a mere few minutes. When he was loaded into the ambulance Victor insisted on riding along. He threw Jack a scathing look as the doors of the unit slammed shut.

Samantha watched the vehicle speed off and suddenly it seemed too quiet.

"It was probably pretty scary in there with bullets flying, huh?" Danny's voice held a conciliatory edge. He rested his hand on her shoulder for a moment, causing her to turn toward him.

She gave him a weak smile. "Whose bullets were those?" she asked, trying to bring her mind back to the present.

"Mostly DEA and Liang's men. They were the ones in the running gun battle. We just followed behind."

"I bet DEA didn't like that too much."

Danny laughed shortly. "You can say that again. The Director's the one that got it arranged."

By this time, Viv had checked the scene and marked the shell casings for the DEA. With a loud sigh, she stood at Samantha's other side and listened to the ambulance siren fade. Finally, Jack snapped his phone shut and joined them. The three partners turned to their boss on his arrival.

"The pier is secure. DEA can't be sure they got everyone, though." He studied his shoes, deep in thought. "There seems to be a distinct possibility someone got out."

Viv cocked her head. "Really? Why do they say that?"

Jack pursed his lips for a moment then looked up. "It seems that someone cut off Sun's ring finger. They think at another location from the story the bloodstains tell. No one's located the finger yet."

Danny frowned. "Sounds like a message."

"And if they haven't found the 'message', they haven't found the messenger," Samantha summed up. Her eyes drifted to the lot beyond the perimeter fence. "And if they don't find this messenger, they've probably lost Zahn and their connection between Liang and the drug shipments."

Jack nodded. "Looks like it. The undercover agents never saw them together, either, and there's no video or audio. Liang is a very careful man. If they could connect Liang with Sun somehow it might be possible, but it looks like everyone here that's close to Liang had some sort of suicide pact or something. They're all dead. That's how afraid of Liang they are." He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels. "Liang must have a powerful hold on his employees."

There was a moment's silence. Samantha continued to stare beyond the fence. "What if Martin can connect Sun with Liang?" she said softly. Then she turned to Jack with wide eyes. "What if Martin saw Liang questioning Sun? Is that enough to get some charges to stick? And if it is, that means Martin . . ."

". . . is a material witness and more than likely, a loose end for Liang," Jack snapped, already moving as she spoke. "Let's get to the hospital."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Something cool was on his upper lip, tickling his nose. His breathing sounded way too loud and he could sense motion around him. Martin forced his eyes open; everything was blurry. He tried to push up to a sit but hands held him down.

'No . . .' he thought as panic swelled. He began to fight.

"Hold still, Martin, you'll pull out the I.V."

He felt a familiar sting on his forearm and redoubled his efforts to get away. Something crashed to the floor.

"Martin!"

"Get security in here . . ."

Sudden nausea made him reel, and Martin rolled aside. He felt cold floor beneath his feet for a second before falling to his knees. Blinking rapidly, the agent's mind began to catch up. He looked wildly around as medical personnel crowded him and tried to lift him to his feet.

"What . . ." His father's face suddenly appeared in front of him.

"Stop, Martin, they are helping you! You're in the hospital."

The lights stung his eyes. They watered, blurring his vision. Martin could feel hands guiding him to a bed or a gurney – he couldn't really tell. His legs refused to cooperate and he was physically lifted to the mattress. "Where's Samantha?" he asked, the words hard to push out his dry throat. "She was here. My gun?"

"It's all right, son," he father said reassuringly – or as reassuring as Victor Fitzgerald could be. "You're safe. You just need some fluids . . ."

Martin's mind replayed very fuzzy and confused memories, but the memory of the injections was very clear. He turned his head and lifted his arm, the shiny silver of the needle suddenly clear to his eyes.

Immediately a clash of emotions rolled like a riptide through him - the knowledge of what was happening; the humiliation of being too weak to prevent it; and toward the end, the hunger for the feeling.

"No!" he growled as he ripped the I.V. from his arm. Then he pulled the mask from his face and tried to rise.

"Martin, stop it!"

Voices barked orders and security guards suddenly appeared. They easily kept him down as restraints were applied.

"No, you don't understand!" he pleaded, struggling against the bonds. "I don't need it!" A nurse began to reinsert the needle. "No, please . . ." he railed, not hearing what was being said to him.

A final burst of anguish washed through him as he felt his body relax and surrender to the sedative. His thoughts became fuzzy and distant.

'They don't understand,' he thought as he drifted away.

TBC