Instinctively she dropped to the ground, Rosco directly in front of her shielding her.
"Status." He huffed into his wrist. His eyes narrowed as there was clearly there was no response. "Status!"
"What the hell is going on?!" Ciara yelled, pinned behind him. Rosco didn't answer, crawling over toward the door. Another loud pop echoed in the distance. Terror ripped through Ciara's body – where was Ben? Was he safe? Rosco was intently listening to the anonymous voice in his ear. Ciara said a silent prayer that it was Ben. He had to be okay. He had to be unharmed. Any alternative made her wince. Suddenly he stood up, straightening out his suit. Immediately his phone rang.
"Stay down. Don't get up until I come back inside, do you understand?" Rosco said, turning the safety off on his gun. Ciara quickly nodded as he answered.
"Sir." He said, his back against the front door. "Yes, Ms. Brady is secure." He nodded once. "Right away, sir. Yes, I'll make sure." He quickly ended the call, looking around the house.
"What's happening? Is Ben okay? Where are you going?" Ciara rapid fired the questions at him, her voice shaking. He ignored them as he placed the phone back in his chest pocket. "That was Ben, wasn't it?"
"Yes." He replied without looking at her, re-checking every window in the gatehouse as he answered. Ciara felt the breath she'd been holding exhale out of her chest as a borderline sob.
"Oh, thank god! But those, those noises… they were gunshots."
"There's been an incident on the grounds. The team says it's been neutralized but I've been instructed to secure the perimeter of the gatehouse. Mr. Weston demanded it as first priority. Stay here, I'll be back." Rosco said abruptly. Ciara nodded and scoffed.
"No way, I'm going to the main house. I need to see that Ben is –"
"Sorry, Ms. Brady, I can't let you do that. Your safety is Mr. Weston's priority."
"The safest place for me is wherever Ben is. I'm going—" Ciara tried to shove past him and was neutralized a little too easily. Rosco barely even moved even though she was pushing him with all her strength. She sighed in frustration.
"Ms. Brady, I'm under direct orders not to let you leave the premises for any reason." He said in an even voice.
"You can come with me or you can get out of my way." Ciara attempted to sound venomous, but given that the security guard in front of her was easily twice her build and at least a foot taller, she felt like a child pushing against a brick wall.
"Mr. Weston said you'd say that. He also said that when you did, I should remind you that it's safer for you, and everyone else if you stay here. Mr. Weston included." He said with a pointed look. Even though he wasn't there with her Ben's protective and logical mind rang through someone else's words. Ciara glared at him, resigning herself to what she knew was true – he was right. Running off to find Ben could be dangerous for both of them. As much as she wanted to be in his arms, knowing that he was safe and bossing her around from afar would have to do for now.
"Fine." She spat, admitting defeat as she flopped onto the couch.
"I'll be back soon."
"Can't wait." She snorted, anxiety now replacing the adrenaline that had been coursing through her veins. The front door closed quietly behind Rosco as he left. Ciara sat on the couch holding her legs to her chest, a small attempt to hold herself together. The tears came silently down her cheeks.
"Ben… where are you?" she whispered to herself.
-xXx-
Ben felt like he was making grooves in the floor as he paced back and forth through the foyer. He just couldn't shake it - the feeling that something was wrong, off. Anxiety was coursing through his veins, a drop of sweat rolled down his back though the house wasn't overly hot. Had he taken his meds this morning? Yes, of course. He never missed a dosage. But what if today he had…? There was a word on the tip of his tongue for what he was feeling. A word he hadn't heard since many sessions ago with Dr. Evans.
Manic.
But he couldn't be – that's what the medication was for. That was why he always carried them on his person: it was his reminder that he wasn't broken anymore. Through therapy and time and his medication he was a whole person again. A person he never thought he could be, even before his mind had fissured into pieces. But still - the adrenaline pumping through him, the anxiety he felt, the jumpiness… something wasn't right. Desperately he wished it was just intuition, a 'feeling'.
Anger flared up in him, white hot and steadily raising. The medicine was supposed to help. That was its entire purpose – balancing him out. So why did he feel like he could punch a hole through the wall for no explicable reason?
"We're about to be on the move. Let's secure the front gate before we leave the property." He spoke into his wrist, trying to make sense of his own thoughts. A nameless voice in his ear reminded him that had already been done.
"Recheck the damn gate then!" The hostility in his voice was palpable, so much so that it surprised even him. "I – hey just do me a favor and recheck it, okay?" He recovered; his tone balanced again.
"You got it, boss."
"Thanks."
"A little touchy this morning, are we?" Stefan spoke from behind him, coming down the stairs quickly.
"Just wanting to ensure everything is secure before you leave for Shanghai, sir. I have a few details to review with you before we transport you to the airport." Ben said, still coming off of whatever panic mode his mind had gone into.
"I'm pleased that my safety is so paramount to you, but I've been noticing lately that even you seem to be holding on a little tighter than usual. Do I need to be concerned?"
"I'm fine, Mr. DiMera." Ben replied with a slight smirk. The irony of him being in charge of anyone's safety was never lost on him.
"Normally I make it a point to not involve myself in anyone's personal affairs. But in the last 6 months you've been the only thing even close to an ally I have in this town. Or anywhere for that matter." Stefan said, the usual formality seemingly missing from his words. Was he actually saying something… complimentary?
"You're the first person in this town besides Ciara who allowed me to be something besides my past. It's not something I take lightly."
"Good. Then if there was something going on with you that was effecting your ability to do your job effectively–"
"There isn't. I'm fine." Ben said curtly, his tone made it clear – this subject was closed. Stefan raised his eyebrows and gave a quick nod.
"Fine. Consider it dropped - for now." He replied, turning to go back into the study.
"We'll be leaving soon, the car's pulling around from the east entrance." Ben said, following a few paces behind him. The anxiety he felt was only increasing.
"Then I have time for a drink."
"Not sure that's the best idea, Mr. DiMera—"
"Remind me again who works for whom here?" Stefan snapped. "Besides, I'm about to be on a plane for the next 18 hours. A scotch helps that be at least a little more palatable." He said, pouring a few inches into two glasses.
"The car will be around in just a moment—"
"I'm going to give you a very rare piece of unsolicited advice – when you can? Seize the moment." He gestured the second glass toward him.
Ben's eyes widened ever so slightly. "I really shouldn't drink on the job."
"You're wound too tight and your men think you're being an overbearing pain in the ass. An opinion your boss now happens to share. So, as your boss, and the only thing even close to a friend you've got aside from the lovely Ms. Brady in the gatehouse – take the damn scotch. That's an order." He handed him the glass and finally Ben took it. He nodded in gratitude.
"Stefan DiMera, offering me a drink. Telling me to relax, even coming off somewhat nice?" Ben said with a slight smirk. "What would the rest of Salem say if they heard that?"
"I'm not worried."
"Why's that?"
"No one would believe you, anyway." Stefan chuckled.
"That's fair. Even Ciara won't buy it." Ben smiled, taking a drink of the liquor. He had to admit, almost immediately he felt a little more relaxed.
"I believe Ms. Brady makes up her own mind about things. She's made that abundantly clear, along with her distaste for me."
Ben's defensive instincts immediately kicked in. "Ciara is loyal to her family. It's not personal." Whatever positive things Ben thought of Stefan, Ciara had every right not to trust or even like him. It had been a subject they'd agreed to disagree on. She accepted he'd given him the job and a chance at a living when no one else would. They'd left it at that. Fighting with Ciara was the last thing he wanted, besides. Deep down he knew she was right: working for Stefan was anything but safe or practical. It was barely safe enough in the daily proximity of a DiMera, let alone Ben. He could practically feel the thought sear into his brain, leaving a dull ache in his stomach.
"Quite. And just how is she coping with you working for me? Living on the estate of the family she and her relatives so despise nonetheless?"
Ben's eyes narrowed slightly, breaking him out of his quick mental reverie. "Why the sudden interest in Ciara? In our relationship?"
"My lack of success in that particular area has given me a shall we say… morbid curiosity." Stefan replied, rolling his eyes. "Indulge me."
Ben weighed the options – he knew that Stefan couldn't be trusted. No DiMera ever should, from what he'd come to understand from Ciara and his own run ins. But his behavior was familiar to Ben. There was no curiosity - Stefan was lonely. He knew the feeling well. Abigail regaining her sanity and the loss of his daughter to Chad had opened him up and then left him gaping. The scotch was an olive branch, and for some reason Ben wanted to take it.
"Ciara understands the opportunity you've given me… us. It's because of you that we can have a home of our own. She appreciates that, and so do I."
There was an awkward silence. Ben swallowed more scotch, wondering if this bizarre turn in Stefan's behavior was a fluke or elaborate ruse.
"Ciara seems to be a very loyal young woman. What you two have is… rare. Even I know that. You're a lucky man." Stefan downed the rest of his scotch in a large gulp, the somberness of his tone now rang in Ben's ears.
"I know I'll never deserve her. But I'll spend the rest of my life trying." Ben said quietly, downing the rest of his drink. Stefan smirked, examining the empty glass.
"So, you intend to marry her, then?"
"If Ciara would have me? I'd marry her in a second." The words tumbled out of Ben's mouth before he could stop them. Though it was in direct opposition to the self-loathing thoughts he'd been nursing in the last few minutes, he knew he meant them. "But she's… Ciara is good. She comes from a long line of epic love stories. I don't think her family would ever allow her to marry a reformed serial killer who now doubles as the head of security for the sworn enemy of her family."
"That's not what I asked. I asked if you're going to marry her. For God's sake Ben, she's already living here with you. To hell with her family's expectations. She chose you."
"I know. And most days, I have no idea why." Ben blurted out before he even realized what he was saying. That scotch had made him too honest. There was an admittedly awkward silence and Ben couldn't stand it. "Thanks for the drink. I'm going to go check on what's keeping your car."
"Weston." Stefan said quietly, standing up. He turned back to face his boss, them having a moment was highly uncomfortable. "This conversation aside, I don't make it a point to involve myself in the personal lives of my employees. But you've done good work in the last few months. You've proven you're loyal and you happen to be effective at what you do. Maybe it's time you started seeing a little bit more of who you are now, versus who you were." Stefan offered.
"It's funny – you sound a lot like Ciara." Ben smiled slightly. Stefan scoffed.
"I guess I can take that as a compliment. Of all the members of the Brady family I've interacted with, she's the only one who doesn't look at me like I'm pond scum. Well, at least not to my face."
An actual joke?! Now Ben was sure hell was freezing over. A smile erupted from him and Stefan simultaneously as a loud pop from the window. Ben practically leaped toward Stefan – it was a gunshot.
Within seconds he was on the ground, Stefan beside him. "What the hell?!"
Gunshots erupted all around them as the glass from the double doors shattered. Ben's arm was splayed across Stefan's chest, he was trying to shield him as best he could. "Stay down!" Voices were sounding off in his ear. He looked at the broken glass and the damage around him, trying to make sense of it.
"Shots fired, main house. Trajectory indicates a high caliber rifle, multiple rounds fired. Possibly multiple shooters. I wanted this isolated, now!" Ben shouted into his wrist. More shots were fired but they seemed to be more sporadic and getting further away… the shooter was heading south on the property. Toward—
"I want 4 men up here in the main house, right now. Secure the front entrance and the library. The rest of you, find this guy. Now! Everyone, anyone who's near the south gate – clear the grounds. Rosco, do you copy? Get to the gatehouse! Secure it, do it now!" There was no answer. Stefan was on his stomach, trying to poke his head up.
"Boss, stay down!" Ben secured him as best he could with his arm over Stefan's chest. He was able to rotate to his side to see out the now shattered French doors leading out to the gardens. There was a small break in shots. Amidst the greenery, a misplaced black figure leapt behind a tree. Ben started to army crawl toward the door, and after 30 seconds of no gunfire he experimentally got up onto his elbows – into the line of sight.
Was it really over as quickly as it had begun?
Ben reached into his holster, unwilling to take a chance. "Stay down until I give you the all clear. I'll be back."
"Where the hell are you going?"
"I saw something in the gardens. I'm going to go check it out. Just stay down until I can guarantee you're not going to go down in a hail of bullets." Ben said sliding his back against the door frame, out of sight. There wasn't really a way to open the door with subtlety, but he had to get outside… so he hoped the element of surprise would work to his benefit. He kicked it open and immediately shot twice in the direction of the figure he'd seen a moment earlier. No shots coming his way was all the encouragement he needed to run into the garden at a dead sprint, gun held in front of him.
Ben's back to a shrub, he tried to kneel down to make it at least somewhat difficult for whoever it was treating the DiMera mansion like a shooting gallery to kill him outright. 10 feet to his right he heard rustling and immediately turned and shot. The black mass he'd seen earlier became clearer – and stood to his full height. But the more immediate concern was the gun he carried was pointed directly at Ben, who was now in point blank range. Before a second had passed, two shots fired out – one from Ben as he dove to the ground, and the other from the nameless man who'd done the same. Hitting the ground, Ben rolled over to hide under one of the taller shrubs to give himself some kind of camouflage.
After a few seconds he realized either he was already dead, or the man was a terrible shot and had somehow missed him completely. The adrenaline pumping through his veins and his phone vibrating in his pocket with urgency reminded him he was very much alive. Not moving, he listened for footsteps, someone rushing him to attack… but there was nothing.
"Grounds secured!" The words rang in his ears.
"The gatehouse?!" Ben rattled back. Just the thought of Ciara near a gunshot made his blood run cold—
"Secured and clear. Rosco's inside with Miss Brady, unharmed. What's your 20, boss?"
"Gardens. Shooter present." Ben whispered.
"30 seconds! All available converge; active shooter is in the garden!" A voice urgently cried into his ear. Almost immediately after another sound he knew very well reached him: a man gasping for breath as if his life depended on it.
"Stay low, repeat stay low!" the voice in his ear yelled again.
Ben quickly rolled out from under his temporary hiding place, scrambling to his knees to get a view. He took up a lot of space, the way he was lying. His arms were clutched to his chest, but the unmistakable red of his blood was spilling onto the grass. Ben walked up to him carefully, looking for the gun he'd been using. A glimmer of a silver gun with a silencer attached caught his eye some 10 feet away… and this man was going nowhere. Ben tentatively approached and finally leaned over to him, uncertainty washing over him. The nameless man started to gargle, blood running down his chin. He'd hit him directly in the chest, there was no question. And though he was no doctor, even Ben knew he only had moments left. His breathing was slowing, more labored—
The reality of what Ben was seeing felt… indescribable. He was removed from his body; his limbs were not his own. He looked up at Ben, eyes fluttering as he choked. "Who do you work for?" Ben stammered out. Focusing in one more time, he spit at him. Ben flinched away, but his white dress shirt was splattered with blood. The nameless man seemed to laugh at this for a moment before heaving a few times – and then was still. When he looked back down at him, Ben knew without having to check for a pulse that he was dead. It felt as if his veins were entirely made of cement as brought his wrist to his mouth.
"Garden secure, all clear." Ben said in a dull voice as he grabbed his phone out of his pocket to call Rosco.
"Rosco, is Ciara safe?" His voice was too tight, relief came like a warm wave as he confirmed she was alright. "Good. Secure the perimeter of the gatehouse. Do not leave until I personally relieve you, do you understand? She'll try to leave, don't let her. And if she pushes, tell her I'm fine and that it's safer for everyone if she stays put – me included."
"Shooter?"
Ben had to choke down the bile rising in his throat as he wiped away a blood spatter from his neck.
"Shooter is down. He's— he's dead."