Ah, my man Fusco. I'll leave it there. Enjoy!

I'd Come For You

His head hurt and there was something warm running down his neck, but as Lionel slowly came back to the land of the living, he realized he was alive, and that was a good thing. He tried to move his hands but found them shackled behind his back. That, he surmised, was not a good thing. Neither was the fact that he felt as though he was flying.

With a groan he opened his eyes. "What the hell is going on?" he snapped angrily.

"Well, look who's awake," Bogle mocked, his eyes meeting Lionel's in the rear-view mirror. "Did you have a good nap, Detective?"

"Well, if it isn't Dumb, Dumber, and Asshole," Lionel replied with equal mocking. "Since you got what you wanted, you can let me go."

"At least you still have your sense of humour despite my best attempt to squelch it."

"Untie me and I'll show you what I still have." Lionel tried to move his hands, but the cuffs were on too tight. Shit!

Bogle's chuckle was short and dry. "That isn't going to happen."

"Where are we going?"

"We? We are going to have Quinn take us to his daughter, and after we've eliminated all of you – your bitch partner included – you're all going to take a long, much needed rest out in Oyster Bay," Bogle said confidently. The man in the passenger seat nodded in agreement.

Lionel was unimpressed. "You think that scares me? I've heard that threat a dozen times; you'll have to get up early in the morning and think a lot harder if you want to scare me."

"I don't expect you to be scared."

"I hope you don't expect me to care."

"Prideful up to the very end. It's going to be my sincere pleasure to put that pride in the ground along with your fat ass," Bogle taunted.

"Simmons and Peterson thought the same thing too; maybe I can arrange it so you can ask them how that worked out," Lionel shot back.

Bogle looked at his partner. They shared a look that was not lost on Lionel or Quinn.

"Keep it up, Detective," Bogle warned. "I don't mind taking you out to Oyster Bay right now. I heard your old partner in crime Jimmy Stills is reserving a spot for you."

Lionel considered a response, but held back. Unlike the last time, he didn't have anything in his favour. There were two – possibly three – of them and only one of him. But he could play the game if it meant he would win in the end.

Quinn cast as jaundiced look at his nemesis sitting beside him. "What are you grinning about?"

"That you're going to get yours," Lionel replied confidently.

"You do realize that you're going to die, too, right?"

"You get to go first."

"If you had just taken my offer..."

"Eh. You mean turn on my friends? I'm a lot of things, but I'm not you."

"You'll never learn, will you, detective?" Quinn almost sounded remorseful.

"If I didn't have these cuffs on, I'd finish the job for these two assholes," Lionel smirked. "And I'd do it with pleasure."

"Cocky to the very end."

"Better than being a bastard."

"Hey!" Bogle raised his voice. "If you two girls want to stop bickering back there and let me concentrate on the road, I'd appreciate it. If not, I'll be more than happy to stop this car and crack some heads." He reached over and turned the volume up on the radio. The interior of the sedan was filled with the falsetto sound of Frankie Valli.

Lionel winced as the sharp noise assaulted his eardrums and added to the throbbing already in his head.

"Do you mind turning that down?" Lionel raised his voice to speak over the music.

"Why?"

"I'm trying to think here."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you don't appreciate good music," Bogle sneered.

"I appreciate good music," Lionel replied. "It's just that I don't believe a man should be hitting those notes unless he's been kneed in the sack."

"Too bad. The music stays on." Bogle turned the knob to increase the volume.

Lionel and Quinn turned to look at one another silently before turning to look out the passenger windows.
****

Finch knew something was amiss the moment he approached the library. Actually, the way Bear was literally turning himself inside out was a better indicator.

Pulling his master over to the spots on the sidewalk, Bear started barking loudly.

"Stil!" Finch commanded firmly. Immediately the canine stood at attention, but his nose still twitched.

Finch looked closely at the red stain on the concrete. There was no doubt in his mind that it was blood, but whose?

A small shape by the edge of the wall of the library caught his eye. Too far down for him to bend over and pick up, he turned to look at Bear.

"Apport!"

Bear walked over to the object and picked it up in his teeth. Lifting his head, he offered it to his master. Once Finch opened his hand, he dropped it.

Finch looked down, but it took another second to realize that he was holding a detective badge. "Oh, no!" he breathed as he put the pieces together.

"Bear, heir!"

Quickly the pair hurried into the library. Climbing the stairs as quickly as he dared, Finch hoped that he hadn't arrived too late.
*****

"How bad is she?" Reese asked Shaw.

"Without a CAT scan, I can only guess. But it's possible that the car crash really did some damage to her." Shaw didn't want to tell him that she had seen too many people with slight head injuries walk into the ER only to pass away from something more serious.

"I'm okay," Joss protested. "I was in the car, too."

"You bled out, Joss," Shaw comforted the best she could considering her bedside manner sucked. "You released the pressure."

"It doesn't make sense," Joss groused and looked down at the young lady she swore she could never feel any compassion for, and felt her heart squeeze painfully.

"That is why we need to get her to the hospital."

"We'll take her in the car," Reese offered and went to pick up the unconscious woman lying on the bed.

"Don't move her!" Shaw ordered sharply. "We can't transport her in the car."

"Are you suggesting we Medi-vac her out?"

"We don't have a choice."

"They'll find us," Joss said.

Reese's phone rang. Relaxing just briefly that his mentor once again had perfect timing, he hit the "Talk" button and answered, "Harold, we need you."

"No time for that, Mr. Reese," Finch interrupted his friend. His fingers danced over the keyboard as he tried to pinpoint the exact location of Detective Fusco and Alonzo Quinn. "We have a problem."

Reese looked at Joss and Shaw. "We have a problem here, too. Alonzo Quinn's daughter has taken a turn for the worse and we need to get her to a hospital," he stated. "Unless yours tops that, we need you to help us get the hell out of here before she dies."

"I'm afraid that Alonzo Quinn has escaped," Finch revealed his news.

"Escaped?! What do you mean Alonzo Quinn has 'escaped'?"

"That's not important, Mr. Reese. What's important is that his life and Detective Fusco's may be in jeopardy."

Reese paused. His eyes met with Joss'. It was as though neither had to ask the question that was on their minds.

"What happened to Fusco?" Joss asked. Her breath caught in her chest as the thought of her partner's life being in danger.

"Bear found blood on the sidewalk and Detective Fusco's shield lying not to far away. I'm going to assume that the same men who injured him may have taken him and Alonzo Quinn."

Not a word was spoken as the trio standing beside the bed looked at one another.

Finch held up the notepad and inspected the impressions. "And if I were to make an educated guess as to what may happen next, I would say that they are heading your way."