I throw a silent fit in the middle of my bedroom, feeling the beginnings of a full-blown panic attack taking over.
Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth…in through the nose, out through the mouth. Calm down and breathe.
Bloody images of Rocco and Connor and Murphy dance frantically across my vision until I'm so dizzy I can't stand anymore. I drop into a shuddering heap on my bed, clutching the top of my head to keep it from detaching, and suck in frenzied gulps of air. I can't lose control, I absolutely can NOT. I need to- No, I have to do something to help them somehow, but what?
I can't exactly tell the detectives what's going on; I have no idea how much Agent Smecker has told them, and from what I've seen so far, they have no clue what's actually going on.
I don't have Agent Smecker's contact information, so that's a no-go. So what the hell do I have?
I have a stun gun that I've never used. I have three cops ostensibly watching out for me but who, in reality, are basically keeping me trapped in my own apartment. I have three idiots who mean the world to me and are about to be ambushed and slaughtered while I sit here, knowing it's coming and doing nothing to stop it.
In a fit of pique and near-hysteria, I seize the alarm clock on the bedside table, about to send it flying across the room, when I stop, staring at the small electronic device clutched in my hand.
This is the clock that Rocco gave me for Christmas, when he took care of me for those three weeks the twins basically abandoned me when I was injured. He saw mine was broken and figured I'd need a new one, so instead of asking me about the broken clock, he just got me a replacement. One of those rare moments of clarity that makes Rocco so...Rocco. I can't throw it, no matter how freaked out I am.
Think, dammit!
Okay, what did the cops say... There are extra guys at Yakavetta's house, people he's called in. How did Duffy put it? Heavy guns? There is a surveillance report that has information specifically about the house where Connor, Murphy, and Rocco are going. Rocco would know who those "heavy guns" are, know what they're capable of, and he and the boys would be better prepared for what's waiting for them if I could get the file to them. Except I don't know where to go; it's not like "Papa Joe Yakavetta" is just going to be listed in the phone book. I'd have to look somewhere official, like-
Like a police surveillance report on his house.
I laugh suddenly, thrown off from my train of desperate thought by how genuinely absurd the idea I've just had truly is. Me, chasing through South Boston in the middle of the night with a stun gun and a stolen police report to save my vigilante boyfriends and best friend from the maffia. It's like a bad John Grisham novel.
Yeah, this situation makes total sense.
Besides, I'd still have to deal with the detectives. Even if I could somehow get away from Greenly, there's still the two detectives down in the car...watching the front entrance…
On the opposite side of the building from my fire escape.
I turn to my dresser mirror, my reflection pale and wide-eyed with shock. My heart rate is startlingly normal, and my breathing is calmer than it's been for most of the day. As I stare at myself, I realize that my shoulders are set, and despite my semi-panicked expression, I look determined as hell.
"Holy shit," I whisper. Am I really going to do this?
Judging by the affirmative nod my reflection gives, I guess I am.
…
When I finally emerge from my bedroom, I have something that vaguely resembles a plan. Connor might even approve, if it weren't me that's attempting this insanity. I have to shove my hands deep in my pockets to keep them from shaking. Even if I somehow manage to pull this deranged scheme off, I'm still most likely looking at prison time for assaulting a police officer. I'd definitely lose my job, and my life as I know it would be over.
Who am I kidding? I haven't had my life as I knew it for days now. At least this way I might still be in time to save Rocco.
Detective Greenly glances up from the sofa and raises an eyebrow. "Slipped into somethin' more comfortable?"
Yeah, he definitely thinks he's charming. Bless his heart; he's never going to forgive me.
"Something like that," I say, returning his smile. I changed from my sweater and jeans to a pair of black sweat pants and one of the boys' black turtlenecks. Conspicuous indoors, especially for me when I hardly ever wear black, but much better for creeping around outside in the dark.
"Need anything from the kitchen while I'm up?"
"Nah, I'm good. If you want, I can catch you up on the scores that you missed."
I don't' know how, but I somehow managed to feign a look of sincere interest as I casually walk over to my purse. "Sure, David. Now, tell me again what those numbers mean?" I point to the screen, and the second his attention turns from me, I whip the stun gun out and tuck it my pants pocket.
Instead of sitting in the arm chair again, I join Greenly on the sofa, ignoring the pang of guilt in my stomach at his pleased grin. I let him waffle on for a while, tossing in a "yep" and an occasional "tell me more". I carefully observe him as he animatedly flails his way through more details of the game and decide the file most likely isn't physically on him. He's just wearing a button up and slacks; there's nowhere to hide something like a file folder or anything with a lot of pages. The file must be in his jacket. The radio in front of us stays blessedly silent, and a thought occurs to me.
"Do you have to check in with your partners?" I ask suddenly. From the confused look on his face, I can tell this has absolutely nothing to do with whatever Greenly was just explaining to me.
"I'm sorry," I apologize immediately. "I know you're on top of things and were probably about to do that anyway. I just...I worry really easily, what with this whole...case that I'm...well, I can't really talk about what happened, but I wanted to make sure everything is going like it's supposed to. I didn't…" I trail off, turning a worried, semi-desperate expression on David that is actually almost entirely truthful. It's almost eight o'clock, and if I want to get to the guys before they go in, I'm going to have to leave as soon as possible.
His expression softens immediately, and he smiles reassuringly, patting my hand just a tad awkwardly, his fingers lingering on mine just a tiny bit too long. "You don't gotta worry about nothin'. I'll check in with the guys, but they would've radioed us if somethin' was goin' on."
"Thanks so much, David. I really appreciate it." God, I'm making myself nauseated. I had no idea I was capable of acting like this. "Say, did you want some sort of dessert? I can see what I have stashed away in the freezer for a rainy day."
"Sure thing. Lemme check in with the Duffy and Dolly, and maybe I can give you a hand."
God forgive me.
I open the freezer, listening closely to his brief conversation with the other detectives, but nothing is out of the ordinary, so they're off the radio after only a few seconds. True to his word, Greenly immediately stands and comes over to see what he can help with. Thinking fast, I turn and point to my highest cabinet.
"I'm sorry to ask you, but since you're here, I always have the darndest time getting my mixing bowl down from the top shelf in there. Do you think you could grab it for me?" Never mind how I got it up there in the first place if I can't get it down. I doubt that thought will occur to David, though.
"At your service, ma'am," he grins, turning and reaching for the cabinet handle. As he reaches up, before I can think too long or talk myself out of it, I pull out the stun gun, flick off the safety, and jab it hard into David's lower back, pulling the trigger.
His face contorts in pain, and he opens his mouth as if to scream, but no sound comes out. He jerks against the counter, his arms flailing, but I keep the weapon pressed against him as long as I can until he drops to the floor in a twitching heap.
Oh, God, oh, God; please don't let me have killed him.
I stare at him in disbelief for several seconds before realizing I need to check and see if he's even still breathing. I crouch over the prone detective, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps as I watch for signs of life. I almost faint with relief when I see his chest rising and falling. Just to be sure, though, I check the pulse in his neck, and it seems steady.
Because I have so much medical expertise to know what's normal…
I lay the stun gun on the counter carefully, then grasp Greenly under his shoulders and heave with all my strength. I manage a couple of inches, so I keep trying, dragging him as best I can though he outweighs me by who knows how much.
After a few minutes of struggling, I finally get him to the hall closet and somehow manage to shove him inside. I arrange him carefully on his side, just in case he throws up or something, and prop his back against the wall of the closet. I shut the door firmly and turn the lock. With Greenly taken care of, I pick up the radio from the coffee table and switch it off. I don't think David will be waking any time soon, but I'll do anything I can to keep him from contacting the detectives in the car just a little longer.
I have to stop for a second and grab the back of the couch as a wave of dizziness washes over me. My head is spinning, and I know I need to slow my breathing down. I'm just as insane as the boys; what the hell was I thinking, starting this? Assaulting a police officer, shoving him in a closet-
STOP IT. You have people to save. Focus. What next? What do you need to do next?
The file. I hope to God it's got the information I need to find the guys. I probably should've made sure of that before I attacked a police officer and wrongfully imprisoned him, but it's a bit late for second thoughts now. Not to mention, I don't know if I'd have been able to just casually search David's jacket with him sitting right there on the couch.
I snatch his coat from the hooks, opening it and ripping the folded file from the inner pocket. The first page of the report is a brief dossier on Yakavetta, complete with a picture. I learn very quickly that his real first name is actually Giuseppe instead of Joe, he is not as nearly old as I always pictured him from Rocco's stories, that he has a son who is currently out of the country for unknown reasons, and that the Boston PD has been keeping surveillance on his house for months now. And there's his address.
Oh, thank God.
The rest of the file contains details of different people's comings and goings, as well as what looks like summarized dossiers on a lot of the men spotted at the house and transcripts of the few conversations they've been able to record. Good grief, the boys should just set up camp there and wait for all these guys show up; it'd save them months of hunting and trouble. I'm having a very hard time believing that all this information has basically just been dropped in my lap.
If I didn't know better, I'd say this was somehow meant to happen.
I slap the file shut, folding it lengthwise and clutching it tightly as my thoughts whirl frantically. Okay, I need the stun gun. I need a jacket. I need...how am I actually going to get there? I have no idea where this address actually is in town, although I can guess one of the nicer parts, all of which are quite a ways out. I mean, the guys were planning on at least an hour's worth of time to get there, judging by when they had been planning on leaving originally. So I need money for a cab.
I find a dark hoodie with a zippered front pocket designed for jogging (because I'm such an avid jogger) in my closet and shove my arms hastily into the sleeves. Sprinting back to the kitchen, I grab the stun gun and stick it in the pocket of my jacket after checking to make sure the safety is back on.
After grabbing the envelope of cash from my purse, I zip the pocket closed and look around my apartment to take stock. The security bar is still stuck tightly under the locked handle of the front door. Detective Greenly is still locked in the hall closet, and from the sound of things, he might even be snoring a little.
I highly doubt he'd be able to get enough leverage in there to kick the door open, but just to be safe, I take one of my kitchen chairs and wedge the back under the closet door knob.
"I'm sorry, David," I say softly, frowning at the closet door. I hurry to the living room, unlatching the window that leads to the fire escape and sliding it up just enough to slip outside. I take the time to reach inside and pull the curtains closed, lowering the window sill so my exit is hopefully not immediately obvious to whoever makes it into the apartment first.
I do my best to navigate the fire escape silently, certain with every creaking step I take that someone will hear me or look outside and think I'm someone trying to break in and call the police. I finally make it to the ground, dropping the last few feet from the ladder to the alley floor with a quiet thud. I glance to my left in the direction of the front of the building and the other two detectives, then take off at top speed to the other end of the alley, emerging onto a sidewalk and immediately moving over to the curb to wait for a taxi.
I manage to snag one after only a couple of minutes, sliding in and gasping out the address.
"That's a bit of a ride, hun, almost forty-five minutes. You sure?" the driver asks, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. I think of the money currently stuffed in the front pocket of my jacket, and then the sight of my three guys, lined up bloody and mangled in my dream, flashes through my mind.
"There's a hundred dollar tip in it for you if you can make it in thirty," I say, holding up two of the bills so he can see I'm not lying. I ignore the resulting honks as the cabbie peels out into traffic and sit back in the seat, trying to figure out what the hell I'm actually going to do when I get where I'm going.
Author's Note: Bonus chapter for being so wonderfully patient. If the thoughts in this chapter seem to shift point of view or jump tense a lot, that's mostly intentional. I won't claim all of it, as I know I make mistakes, but most all of the jumps are meant to seem frantic and disjointed.
Also, so everyone's prepared, I'm going to try to have the next chapter up in a week, btu it might be two weeks. I've got a really heavy block in place, and I don't want to post much more until I can muscle through. Thank you so much for all your support, it means the world to me. Many thanks to everyone who had a looksee over this one before I posted it (bleedingrose0688 and Siarh, y'all rock).