Chapter thirty six,
.
Callaghan placed the phone back on to the desk. He had hoped to get through to Director Faye personally, instead had got put on to one of his assistants. He was told the director was busy in meetings all day and could not be contacted.
This assistant however turned out to be very helpful, he had got hold of the Doctors file while they were talking. All his credentials were in order, and he had a photo of the Doctor e-mailed over for Callaghan to confirm the identity. Satisfied on that point he had moved on to give his report on his interview with Westen.
An extra tac team would be put on alert, police patrols would be increased in the near by area. The assistant promised. Callaghan didn't like the idea of being used as bait, but from what Westen had said the attack was going to happen any way. It was the best way to capture both killers, turn Larry Sizemore's plan against him. Faye's assistant assured him his report would be passed on to the director as soon as he was available.
He had kept quiet about allowing Westen's friends to sit in on the interview, and how it had ended because of Fiona Glenanne's outburst. He just had to hope Westen still felt like being cooperative when he woke up. All in all he thought the day had gone well.
He would worry about how much more he would get out of Westen later. Getting to his feet he stretched, it had been a long day, now he was going to push it all to the back of his mind and get a shower, a change of clothes and then see what there was for dinner.
…...
Larry sat at an outside table at a beach side diner. The sky was darkening, the wind picking up cooling and refreshing the normally humid atmosphere. He listened to the waves crashing onto the beach, and far out at sea he watched a flash of lightning momentarily light up the scene. It was going to be a stormy night, ideal for what he hoped was going to happen. He glared at his phone, he hated working with other people. Waiting on other people's reports, relying on their interpretation of events.
Finally the phone rang, and he snatched it up. "I hope this is good news." He said.
"Trackers dead, Larry. My guess is he found it." The voice at the other end of the phone was flat and unemotional.
Larry's hand tightened around his phone, knuckles turning white. He would not get mad.
"But, I just got off the phone with Callaghan. The guy has no idea what's going on. Let me know when you want me to cut the phone lines and set up the jammers." He had worked with Larry before, just skim over the bad news, keep him on task and if he didn't kill you, you got to look forward to a really big pay day.
"Expect a call in the next couple of hours. Don't let me down on this Jerry."
"As soon as you call, it'll be done." Good old Larry, he just had to put in a threat. Jerry finished the call.
Larry tapped the table running through his options. Simon was on the move. He got to his feet leaving enough money to pay his bill. This was it, decision time. He had to make an educated guess on what Simon was up to.
…...
Michael's eyes snapped open, he was instantly alert. He stayed perfectly still, Simon had nearly killed his mother. He needed a gun, he needed Fiona, she would understand, and more importantly she would get him what he needed. Something lethal with plenty of ammunition.
"Hey, you've finally woken up. The Doc's been getting worried. Fi and your mom have been giving him the evil eye every time he's come near you." Sam came into view, moving his chair closer to the bed.
Michael pushed himself upright, and rested his back against the headboard. "How long was I out for?" He asked rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"About four hours, it's just gone six now. Want me to see what's for dinner?"
"Sure, where's my mom?" He needed to see her first, he needed to see for himself that she was all right and forgave him.
Sam pushed his chair back. "I'll go tell her you're awake."
While he waited, Michael looked around the room. They were getting ready for a fight, the few men in the room were wearing bullet proof vests and carrying rifles. The shutters were down over the windows and the lights were on a low setting. There was a subtle atmosphere, he recognized it they were keyed up for a fight. It struck him that this was what Larry had done to that Spetsnaz team all those years ago. This time though he had done it, all it needed now was a spark to start a fire fight.
He blocked those thoughts as he saw his mother coming over, he had nearly got her killed. Doing his best to relax, he smiled and accepted her hug returning the pressure. He had nearly lost her, he buried his head against her shoulder. "I'm sorry." He mumbled into her ear. The smell of tobacco and cheap perfume was strangely comforting.
She let him stay there, his face hidden while he gathered himself. Releasing him when she felt him begin to stiffen and pull away. He wiped a hand across his face, and then looked at her. "Mom, I." He swallowed unsure what to say to her.
"Michael I'm fine, it was scary but Sam and Fiona were there. They wouldn't let anything happen to me." She tried to reassure him, she was reminded sharply of how he used to look at her as a child. After she had been on the receiving end of one of Franks moods and he hadn't been able to protect her.
"You should have told me." He held her hand.
"It wouldn't have made any difference, it was over with and you needed to rest." She ran her free hand over his cheek. She was still getting chills over what had happened and dreaded going to sleep. But she had no intention of telling her son that.
"Here we go Mikey." Sam came back over a bowl of soup and a couple of slices of bread on a plate all on a tray he held out. "Doctor's orders, vegetable soup and bread and butter." He placed the tray on his friend's lap. Then took a seat on the other side of the bed.
"Where's Fi?" Michael asked as he sipped some of the soup off his spoon.
"Out patrolling the grounds, she was a little upset over blurting out." He paused not really wanting to bring the subject up himself. "You know... She offered to go and get some C4, and set up some trip wires but Callaghan put his foot down." Michael winced, glad he had been unconscious. Fiona dealt with stress by blowing stuff up. It was a brave man who denied her, her stress busting technique.
He pushed the bowl away when it was half empty. "I'm full, honest." He commented watching their expressions. Neither Sam or Madeline looked like they believed him.
"It's ok Mike we're not going to force feed you." Sam laughed. He took the tray off his friend's lap and went to take it back to the kitchen. "You want a drink or anything else?" Michael shook his head, his eyes on the door and to where Fiona was walking back inside.
Madeline looked between the two of them. "You two need to talk. Try and keep it civilized." She planted a kiss on his cheek and got to her feet joining Sam in the kitchen.
She looked him over, he still looked tired and he was losing weight the injuries drawing on all his reserves trying to heal. But over all he was looking better. She had been relieved when his breathing had returned to normal so quickly earlier on. She hadn't meant to shock him the way she did. The whole situation was just so frustrating, every time she thought he was coming back to her, he pulled away at the last moment. It was as if he just couldn't face giving up that damn list. She made an effort to calm down, just thinking about it brought the anger back to the surface.
He smiled at her, and as she sat down he reached for her hand. He realized now what he was putting them all through, and he was amazed they hadn't deserted him. He wondered what he had done to earn such loyalty. Even after all this time it was something he couldn't get use to. He always imagined that at some point they would have enough of the way he treated them and he'd find he was alone.
He went to tell her he was sorry, but stopped himself. She must be getting sick of hearing him say those words. Instead he said. "Sam said you've been out helping the tac team?"
"Yes." She sat down, letting him hold her hand, his thumb gently circling above her wrist. "They've got it pretty well covered out there. You've spoken to your mother?" Her words came out a little stilted, unsure how he felt about her earlier outburst.
"Yeah, she says she's ok, but I don't know. Thank you for being there for her. I don't know what.." He stopped and gave a little shrug.
She understood. Nodding her head she relaxed slightly, her free hand coming up to cup his cheek. "And you. Are you all right now?"
"I'm fine Fi, honest. It's a relief really, knowing what's been going on. I knew something had happened, that was worse not knowing what it was." He lent his head into her hand, moving slightly so her fingers brushed into his hair. "Fi, I need you to get me a gun." He spoke quietly, watching her expression out of the corner of his eye.
Her hand dropped away. "I don't have one on me." She told him her tone flat. "And if I did, I wouldn't give you one at the moment. You're on oxygen Michael, do you think firing a gun around enriched oxygen is a good idea?"
He removed the nasal cannulas, pulling the tubing from behind his ears and dropping it onto the floor. "Problem solved." He announced, now fixing her squarely with a stare.
She crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh that's sensible. But it's not going to get me to put a gun in your hand."
"Simon or Larry could break in here at any time. Do you want me to be helpless?" He reasoned
"Callaghan has already said he'll arm me and Sam if an attack comes." She could understand why he wanted a gun. The argument was only half hearted, she didn't trust the FBI to protect them either. "If you behave I'll see what I can do." She picked up his Oxygen line and fitted it back in place. "Until then you keep that on."
He caught hold of her hand, turned it over and kissed her palm. "Don't take to long." He smiled, while pointedly looking at the armed men around them.
…..
It was dusk, neither completely dark or light. The increasing wind was causing the trees and bushes to rustle, the first drops of rain promising a miserable night for those outside. The sentries had just been changed over, spread out around the perimeter their patrols just covering the areas not under surveillance by cameras. The guard had failed to notice the shape lying under a nearby bush, he failed to notice the figure rise up and move swiftly behind him. The first he knew was when a hand snaked around his neck and over his mouth. It was too late then because a knife had already entered his left kidney, before it was removed and sunk into his right side. His body was dropped quietly to the ground and almost gently placed under the very bush his attacker had come from.
After a scan of the area the figure dressed all in black moved on, he now wore his first victims comm, nobody was aware of his presence. So far so good. Blood dripped off the knife blade as he flitted through the undergrowth, another sentry already in his sight.
…...
Doctor Cohen stood in front of his wardrobe, looking at his reflection in the full length mirror. He picked up a clean shirt and slipped it on over the top of his bullet proof vest. After doing up all the buttons, and tucking the shirt inside his pants. He turned to pick up a snub nosed .22 handgun from his dressing table, lifting his leg onto a stool he fitted the gun into an ankle holster. Standing up straight he jiggled his pants, checking in the mirror he was satisfied that neither the vest or gun was visible. Humming a little tune he opened up the bag of medical supplies and filled a couple of syringes, capping the needles he dropped them into the inside pocket of his jacket.
Taking a deep breath, he picked up his phone. "I'm ready." He said when the call was answered. He closed the phone without waiting for a reply. Slipping into his jacket he took one final look in the mirror. When this job was over he was planning a long holiday, abroad most likely Europe.
As he stepped out of his room the power went out. He paused for a moment, ignoring the shouts coming from the other men in the house. A loud crashing bang outside brought a nervous smile to his face, then a second explosion followed and he moved forward, towards his patient.