Ch. 18: Puzzle

Vic's patience was all but gone. They should have been back by now. They should have been on the road back to town. Instead, they were out here in the middle of nowhere yet again with more questions and less answers than when they started. She was certain that Colter wasn't being completely honest with them, if at all.

His potential lies were endangering all of them, and she resented it. From the moment he showed up at the cabin and startled her with his knocking, she hadn't felt like she could trust him. After everything, that mistrust seemed amplified. Magnified.

She looked up at the sky and let out a sigh. Colter was watching her and she knew it. He wasn't very subtle. Not that she was. But, he was the object of her momentary irritation and the constant feeling that he brought about was making her feel even more agitated.

"What?"

The question came out sharply. Colter held up one hand.

"I didn't say anything."

Vic shot him a look and then turned her eyes back to the last spot she saw Walt in.

"You didn't have to."

She heard him swallow. He must be in pain.

"I'm sorry. About earlier."

Vic laughed humorlessly.

"Which part?"

He cleared his throat.

"Earlier…when I said I thought you were a cop. I'm sorry I said that. You…you're good at your job. I shouldn't have said that."

Vic shrugged off his apology. She hadn't thought one more moment about any of their earlier exchange.

"Thanks, but I'm not looking for your approval."

"See…that…that's what I like about you That honesty. It's hard to come by these days. There's…something refreshing about it."

Vic gave him another look. His words sounded slurred. If she didn't know better, she might think he'd been drinking. But, she knew it was his gunshot wound. He was tired. He needed medical treatment. That much was obvious by his sweaty, foggy demeanor.

"You need a doctor."

He shook his head a bit from side to side.

"I need to find Finn."

"We can find him another day."

Colter inhaled, taking in a breath.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this."

The breathless comment sent a chill through Vic and she couldn't say why. Something about the way he said it. Almost like he was really talking to herself and not her at all. Vic turned and faced him, her Glock still in her hand.

"What's that mean exactly?"

Colter raised his eyes to her face before breaking the eye contact.

"Just that…this…"

He waved one arm around.

"…all of this. You're right. I don't want my son to grow up without a father, no matter how screwed up I might be."

Vic eyed him. It would be easy enough to write off his rambling as just that. The rambling of an injured man who needed to see a doctor, who was probably dehydrated. But, she couldn't take that route.

It was too easy.

She looked at him for a moment longer before she turned.

"Walt!"

She hadn't meant it to come out quite the way it sounded, but it was impossible to keep the urgency out of her voice. Before long, she heard the sound of his boots coming through the brush. He pushed his way free and looked around, his eyes falling on her.

He looked rattled.

"What's wrong?"

Vic holstered her gun and motioned for him. Seeing that she was unharmed, his heart rate started to slow. Walt took three steps in her direction before something flashed across Vic's face. Her hand snapped back to her holster and closed around the butt of her gun. It was halfway out when Walt realized someone had suddenly appeared off to his side.

In that moment, it was too late.

xxx

Cady drummed her fingers on her desk. She never really considered herself an impatient person, yet here she was being exactly that. Who could really blame her, though? She still hadn't been able to get in touch with either Walt or Vic. She sat leaned back in her chair, her eyes alternating between her phone and the door.

Almost as if by sheer will, there was a knock on the door. Cady sat up.

"Come in."

She tried to sound nonchalant and professional. She didn't feel like she was really accomplishing that particular tone. The door opened and Zach came in.

"Hear anything?"

Cady shook her head.

"No."

Zach frowned.

"It's been a while."

"I know. I don't like it."

Zach glanced around the office.

"You want me and Ferg to head on out?"

She did. She really, really did. Still, she didn't want to jump the gun and possibly endanger the work that Vic and Walt were doing. On the other hand, there was always another hand, enough was enough.

She started to answer when the phone on her desk rang. Cady snatched it up.

"Sheriff Longmire."

She skipped the entire phone answering pleasantries and got straight to it. There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"Cady Longmire?"

Cady felt the hopeful bubble in her chest pop at the unfamiliar voice.

"Yes."

"I'm uh…I'm Special Agent Vance with the FBI."

A sinking feeling took over her stomach.

"Yes."

She hoped he could hear the encouragement in her voice to go on.

"I was…trying to get in touch with your father. Walt."

Cady closed her eyes and opened them to find Zach watching her.

"May I ask why?"

He paused again, like he wasn't sure how far to take the conversation.

"It's about something he asked me to look into."

Of course, Vance wouldn't know how much she knew.

"The situation with the U.S. Marshals."

"That's the one. So…you know."

She nodded to herself.

"Yes, Agent Vance, he's been working with us on this investigation. Do you have some relevant information?"

She could hear a small sigh escape him.

"My hope was to talk directly to Walt."

Cady brushed some hair out of her face.

"That's my hope, too. But, I'm assuming he doesn't have a cell signal. If it's information about…"

He broke in.

"Sheriff, I don't mean to interrupt, but this is important. I started my own investigation…probably against my better judgement. And, I've spoken to this Marshal's wife. Mitchell Colter."

Cady's stomach still felt like it was on a roller coaster.

"Yes?"

She prodded him on.

"If Walt…or if Deputy Moretti is with him, you need to get in touch with them. Or, you need to go and find them. I have reason to believe that he's not what he appears to be. He's dangerous, Sheriff."

xxx

Vic was certain she couldn't have reacted any faster. Unfortunately, Finn Mason was just a little bit faster. Before she could pull her gun out or push any words free from her mouth, Mason hurled seemingly out of nowhere and collided with Walt. Mason wasn't a big man, nor did he carry a lot of weight, but the impact caught Walt off guard and sent him tumbling onto the ground with Mason on top of him.

He heard the crack of a single shot and assumed that Vic must have fired.

The Colt in Walt's hand pulled free and hit the dead grass and leaf litter with a muted thump. Vic pulled her gun completely free and took aim at the rolling mass that was Mason and Walt. With no clear shot, she had little choice, but to wade in herself.

Grabbing onto the back of the hoodie that Mason wore, she jerked him as hard as she could and the move sent him sprawling off of Walt, who sifted around, looking for his gun. He came up with it before Mason was able to get to his feet and pushed himself up. Vic's Glock was aimed at Mason, her hand steady and her eyes full of anger.

Mason held up his hands as he sat on the ground.

"Don't."

The word came out tersely. Vic cocked her head at him.

"Get up."

He nodded, keeping his hands out from his body, and rose carefully. He looked between the two of them.

"Let me…"

"Uh-uh."

Vic cut him off.

"Just shut up for a minute. Are you armed?"

He nodded and pulled up the hooded sweatshirt he wore. The same revolver Vic was familiar with was tucked into his pants.

"Take it out and lay it down."

He did as she told him to, slowly and methodically.

"Deputy…"

"Move away from it."

Mason nodded and took four steps away from the gun.

"Can I lower my arms?"

Vic gave him a sharp look as she pulled her cuffs free from her belt.

"Put your hands behind your back."

He obeyed and Vic moved in carefully and handcuffed him. Turning him around, she faced Walt.

"Why did you shoot?"

Walt sounded confused. He didn't understand why she would have taken the shot when she couldn't possibly have had a clear line of sight at Mason. Vic shook her head, her hand gripping Mason's arm.

"I didn't."

Walt started to speak and stopped. He looked to Mason whose eyes drifted beyond Walt. He tilted his head back and jutted his chin out.

"It wasn't her."

Vic's eyes shifted to Walt and she could see the thought occur to him almost simultaneously.

"Colter."

It was part statement, part question. They both turned to find the spot Colter had occupied empty and the wounded Marshal nowhere in sight.

Vic spoke for both of them when she pushed out her next words.

"What the fuck?"

She turned her eyes back to Mason.

"What in the hell is going on?"

Walt stared at the man, who stood handcuffed beside Vic, one boots shuffling through the leaves.

"You saved my life."

Mason responded with a shrug, but the answer was on his face. Vic stepped up.

"What?"

Walt gestured at Mason.

"You were following us?"

"I was."

"You saw…Colter."

Mason nodded.

"He was about to shoot you. Then, he might have shot you…"

He looked to Vic.

"…unless you got him first."

Vic shook her head.

"Why?"

Mason looked at the vacant spot.

"We should find him. It's getting dark."

It was hard logic to argue with.

xxx

Walt was out of practice with the physical aspect of this job. His back was hurting where it hit the ground when Mason jumped on him. In that moment, a plethora of thoughts ran through his mind. The first was that he might be about to die. The second of which was Vic. Now as they walked through the darkening brush back towards the cabin, his heart was still pumping hard in his chest.

Adrenaline was a hell of a thing.

It was a hard high to come down from.

For a bit, they walked in silence with only the sound of their feet tromping over the ground as any sort of noise. It didn't surprise him at all when Vic's voice broke the silence.

"It was Colter wasn't it?"

The question came from Vic and was directed at Mason, who was still cuffed. She had moved his hands to his front, but refused to allow him any real freedom. They still didn't have a firm grasp on what was happening. There was no way she would take that chance. Walt knew that about her.

Mason glanced her way as she continued.

"He killed Nate Bradley?"

The thought had crossed Walt's mind during all of this, but he didn't have any evidence to support the idea. He wondered if Vic did. Or, if she thought she did.

"That's what you meant by dig deeper. He framed you?"

She sounded almost relieved at the idea. Walt could only assume that's because she was finally getting the answers that she wanted so badly. He knew how much she wanted to put this case to rest.

"How do you know that?"

Mason sounded genuinely curious.

"He said he never intended for it to happen. Only…he didn't say what it was. But, that's it, isn't it?"

Mason gave her a long look, the eye contact between them steady.

"Yes, he did."

Walt could see the wheels turning in her mind.

"He told us that you confessed. But…he didn't have any evidence. He was lying the entire time."

Walt stepped in closer to Vic, his own mind starting to connect the dots.

"His story about the drugs was true."

Vic gave him a quick look. Reaching out, she pulled on Mason's arm.

"Stop. Look at me. Tell us the truth."

He turned to face them.

"You already know the truth, Deputy. You just said it. Your husband is right. It's the drugs. It always was. Despite everything I tried to do for him, it was the drugs that won out."

Vic reached up and rubbed her eyes. Walt felt a twinge at how tired she looked. He wanted this to be over as much for this boy as he did for Vic.

"We need to find him."

He started to move, but Vic wouldn't let go of his arm.

"Why did he pin this on you?"

Mason looked down at the worn boots on his feet and sighed.

"Because I was the only one who knew that he killed Nate other than Cameron."

Walt studied the young man in front of him. Despite his age, Finn Mason seemed to carry a world weariness that he was all too familiar with. He saw the same in himself and in Vic. Once, he saw it in the face of Branch Connally. Back when David Ridges was playing games, making Branch think he was seeing a dead man. No one believing him when he insisted that Ridges must be alive.

It brought on a darkness that his deputy couldn't escape.

"Why didn't you just come out and tell us this in the beginning?"

Mason gave Walt a considerate look.

"Have you ever been accused of a crime that you didn't commit?"

Something crossed Walt's face. He knew how that felt all too well.

"I have."

"And, were you completely honest at the time? Or, were you careful?"

Walt conceded his point, the murder of Tucker Baggett tucked away in the recesses of his mind. The murder of a drug addict named Miller Beck was even further back. Walt had intended to kill the man, and later suspected Henry. His willingness to protect his best friend tested both the limits of their friendship and Walt's own devotion to his job. At the time, he believed himself capable of taking another life in revenge.

Everyone had secrets.

"What happened?"

Mason shook his head at Vic.

"He's getting away."

Vic didn't seem overly concerned with the possibility.

"He's injured. He's not going very far. We'll find him. But, right now, you tell me what happened to Nate."

Walt stepped up, breaking into the conversation. He understood that Vic wanted answers. They all did. But, Mason's point was valid and it wasn't getting any easier as time passed. Vic looked his way when he moved closer to her, her eyes leaving Mason.

"I'll go on ahead and started tracking Colter. You're right. He can't be all that far ahead of us. With his gunshot, he's got to be slowing down."

Vic's eyes held his. There was a moment where he thought that she would argue at the prospect of him going after an armed suspect alone. He was ready to make his point, just as Mason was trying to make his. In the presence of Finn Mason, her eyes were less readable than when it was just the two of them. He hoped that same fact would keep her from putting up too much of a fight. Whatever worries she possessed for his safety, she would know that there was still a job to do. It would be faster for Walt to go on ahead in his mind. He could move faster without the handcuffed Mason. And, it would allow him the benefit of being quiet, gaining an edge on Colter.

The element of surprise was always and advantage.

Vic finally nodded and Walt gave her a slight nod back in acceptance of her trust in him and his ability. The barest of smiles crossed her face, then she was all business again.

"Okay. Be careful."

Walt took a step back, his eyes moving in between Vic and Mason. He didn't believe the man was a threat to her at this point. It was a feeling that Vic pushed all along, insisting that in each confrontation she had with Mason, she never felt like her life was actually in danger.

She was right. It was Colter who posed the threat all along.

"You too."

With that, he left the two of them and started off after Mitchell Colter.

xxx

"Have you ever cared enough about someone that you would do almost anything for them?"

Mason posed the question as they followed after Walt at a slower pace. Even though she wasn't a fan of his going after Colter on his own, Vic knew he could make better time on his own without having to worry about Mason. She also told herself they weren't that far behind, and she could catch up to him if he got into a scrape. The question struck her. Those were the choices in life that were never black and white. They were hidden in the shadows amongst so many shades of gray. Once the truth did seem simple to her, a clear cut line between doing what was right and what was wrong. But, the longer she stayed in this job, the murkier the waters seemed to become. Sometimes, the answer wasn't what it seemed. She understood where he was coming from.

The answers were never as easy as they appeared. They came with consequences, both good and bad.

"Yes."

Vic had little desire to delve too deep into her own past, or her personal life with this man. So, her answer was to the point.

He smiled at her and, for the first time, Vic could see the man he was underneath the façade that he presented to them all. She hadn't seen it on their first meeting at the camp when she was looking into Cameron. He was closed off that day with a hell of a poker face and an easy manner that was hard to decipher. This was the man that Mitch Colter claimed to know so well. The one who went out on a limb to help a friend.

She was starting to see that her gut was right all along. He wasn't completely innocent, but Finn Mason wasn't a killer. Not in the way they were led to believe by Colter. Their initial and ongoing mistrust of Colter was well placed in Vic's mind.

Mason dipped his face as they pressed on. Vic would be glad when this was all over and she was free of these men and this crime. She was looking forward to her life and her job regaining some semblance of normalcy, some balance.

When Mason lifted his face, she could see that he was on the verge of saying something. With more of his story out in the open, she could see him letting go more of his cover, revealing more of who he really was.

"When I first joined the Marshals a few years ago, Mitch took me under his wing. He must have seen something in me."

Mason paused, clearly remembering something, or simply an easier time in his life. Maybe one that was less complicated.

"Back then…he was damn good at his job. He cared. Believe it or not, that can be hard to find in our line of work. So many guys…burn out or get desensitized. Either way, things stop affecting you the way they should. You know what I mean?"

She did, of course. Vic saw it throughout her career. Back in Philly. Most recently, she saw it in Ferg. When she first met him, he was so green and naïve. While it didn't always translate into his doing a good job, there was something refreshing about his innocence. Coming from a place of so much darkness from her experience back home, Vic didn't mind the wide-eyed young deputy as much as she thought she might.

Unfortunately, it was a frame of mind that never lasted. Over time, Ferg developed his own brand of wariness. It was inevitable. Still, she was sad when she realized it was gone and his maturity brought a healthy dose of skepticism with it. She suspected that he wasn't as hard as he would have liked them to believe. Since then, the hard line he started taking around the time Meg broke up with him dissipated and he was an older version of the Ferg she knew.

It was a hard thing to describe, but Vic found herself relieved that new fatherhood also seemed to soften him back up a bit. Not that he would ever be the same, but Vic appreciated the small town perspective more than she would have thought possible when she first arrived in Absaroka County.

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

He must have heard something in her tone that caused him to look her way. Their eyes connected briefly, the contact quick but a little jarring. Turning his face away, he focused his concentration back on walking.

"But?"

Vic's verbal prod didn't go unheeded.

Mason picked his way carefully over the ground, trying not to trip. He cleared his throat before he spoke again. Vic wondered if he was fighting some inner demons of his own. Regrets. Things he thought he could have done differently. She was a hundred percent certain that she was an expert on that frame of mind.

She knew that was a road to nowhere.

Hell, maybe he was struggling with some guilt at his inability to keep his friend clean and on the right track. It brought back so many conversations she and Walt had about personal responsibility and consequences. Walt was always so much quicker to forgive her than she was herself. She supposed that was a kind of grace, something everyone needed in their lives. Maybe Mason didn't have. Maybe Colter didn't.

At this point in her life, she could write a damn book on the subject.

"But…drugs have a way of worming their way into a person's psyche and never letting go. I honestly thought he kicked the habit. He did for a while. It wasn't until we got involved with this case that I realized…how powerful his addiction really was. He was willing to risk everything for it. His job. His marriage. His family. I guess…"

Mason lifted his cuffed hands and rubbed his eyes.

"…the temptation was too strong. He offered Cameron information…tip offs…in exchange for the drugs he was moving. I didn't know. I swear to that. Not at first. I thought he was on the up and up and that we were going to take this guy down and go home. Same as always. I overheard them on the phone and…confronted him about it. Mitch…I mean. He didn't deny it. Guess there was no point. First, he just begged me not to tell anyone. Then he…he offered me money. A cut of the profit he was also getting from Cameron. That was the first time I saw how much he had changed. How hard he was now."

His voice faded and Vic could sense him collecting his thoughts.

"I asked him to let me help him. Begged him even. I offered to help him get clean again. Told him I wouldn't tell anyone as long as he called the whole thing off. But…he was already in so deep. I wonder…if I saw the signs sooner, if I hadn't been so focused on the case…things might've turned out differently. You know?"

He didn't really give her time to respond as he pressed on, seeming almost relieved to get his full story out in the open. While Vic was skeptical of Colter's earlier version, she didn't get that feeling from Finn Mason.

This felt like the truth.

It felt like a confession of sorts.

"We argued about it. That…escalated into a fight."

A memory came back to Vic.

"Your hand was injured the first time I saw you."

His head bobbed.

"Yeah."

It was an acknowledgement and it made sense.

"He blew my cover with Cameron."

Mason hesitated and Vic could see the struggles that were playing out across his face.

"What?"

He stopped walking and turned to her.

"I was trying to get some of those kids out before the shit hit the fan. They were so young. There was no reason for them to go down with Cameron. And…they weren't in all that deep. Some of them didn't even know what was really going on. Not at first. Nate. Grace. A couple of others who did leave."

His voice trailed off.

"I lost sight of my job, let my personal feelings get in the way. Guess that blew up in my face."

Vic studied him.

"How?"

"I should have just called my boss and told him everything. I should have just let him send some guys in, make the arrests, and…let it all paly out like it would have. But…I was still worried about Mitch. These kids. I thought that I could handle it on my own. What I didn't realize, what none of us realized was that Nate overheard some…conversations. He was a smart kid. Put the pieces together. He got mad…he was just sixteen…not the best at making decisions. He started yelling…making accusations, saying he was going to the police."

He went quiet again.

"So…Mitch grabbed him. Got on top of him. Killed him."

His voice was somber.

"You saw it?"

A slow nod.

"I let it happen."

His voice took on a raspier quality. He was trying to keep his emotions in check.

"Why?"

Mason inhaled.

"Because it was already too late for him. But…Grace…"

Vic stepped in closer to him.

"That's why you kept quiet?"

He nodded slowly.

"Yep. I didn't think Mitch would try and pin it on me. But… with Grace still there…I played along. I buried the body for Cameron. I…fully intended to let someone know later. To let him have a proper burial. But…shit just spun out of control."

Vic shook her head, a chill running down her own spine.

"Jesus."

His chest expanded with a deep breath.

"I think the quality that damns us the most as humans is our ability to care."

Vic gave him a long look before she shook her head, disagreeing with his assessment of the human condition. Thinking of her own struggles. And Walt's.

"Caring doesn't damn us. It saves us. Now…let's catch up with Walt and finish this."

xxx

Walt was right, he made better time alone. Mitch Colter wasn't very good at hiding his trail. Even with his head start, Walt didn't expect it to take too long to find the Marshal. As usual, he kept his eyes and his ears alert to his surroundings. Just because the man was injured didn't mean that he wasn't dangerous. Especially if he had the element of surprise.

Walt learned a long time ago never to underestimate an opponent. Appearances could be deceiving. They frequently were.

Walt paused and looked around. It was dark and quiet. Back behind him, he knew that Vic and Mason were moving at a slower pace. As much as he wanted to be relieved about having Finn Mason in custody, now it appeared that the real threat was right under their noses the entire time.

There was nothing left for Colter to lose at this point. With Mason talking, and possible corroboration by Tobias Cameron, the U.S. Marshals would want him under their jurisdiction. This was bigger than some random small town murder. Walt found some solace in the knowledge that Nate Bradley's father would have some closure. Not knowing was a far worse purgatory. The mind was a dark place, the thoughts it conjured were even darker.

It wouldn't lessen the man's loss. But, he would be able to bury his son. He would know what happened to the young man. Maybe in time, that would give him some small measure of peace.

Walt stilled and allowed his eyes to roam over the ground. He was almost back to the cabin now. Unless Colter got some unexpected burst of energy, Walt doubted the man could make it all the way back to his vehicle and be in any shape to drive. With blood loss and fatigue, Colter would be compromised. Not feeling well. Maybe even losing his grip on consciousness.

He felt like he was close. That brought about the hope that by the end of the night, this case would be wrapped up and ready to be passed off to the U.S. Marshals. It would be a welcome change. Some return to their everyday lives. Getting this heaviness out from over them.

There was something to look forward to.

Walt heard a crack, a misplaced step making just enough noise to alert him. His hand instinctively reached for his holstered gun.

"Don't."

Walt's hand stopped halfway from the intended target. He recognized Colter's voice.

"Turn around. Slowly."

Walt dropped his hand to his side and turned, his eyes landing on Colter.

The Marshal was standing just off the trail, his own gun aimed at Walt. Walt figured his hunch was correct. Colter probably knew he wasn't going to outrun them. Not in his condition. Despite the cold temperatures, the man was sweating visibly. His skin was pale. Walt wondered how the man was still on his feet. He looked tired, like he might drop at any moment.

"Take the gun out easy. Set it on the ground."

Walt didn't move for his weapon. Instead, he eyed the man calmly.

"You might as well give up, Colter. We know the whole story."

It wasn't completely true. But, he knew enough. Colter reached up with his free hand and swiped at his forehead.

"You know a version. You don't know that it's the truth."

Walt noticed the slight tremor to Colter's hand, the gun wobbling just a bit. The man was obviously feeling the affects of his untreated wound. He kept his eyes and his gun trained on Walt.

"What makes you think that Finn is even telling you the truth?"

Walt shrugged, his demeanor unrattled by the federal agent holding a gun on him.

"His story makes sense. It fits. Yours…not so much."

Colter shook his head.

"Whatever. Walt, put your gun on the ground. Now. I don't want to shoot you. But, I will."

Walt studied him, still not following the shaky orders.

"Did you want to kill that boy? Or, did that just happen?"

He could see the expression change on Colter's face. He winced. Colter wasn't cold blooded. He was desperate. There was a marked difference, although that didn't make him any less dangerous. In some ways, it made him more dangerous.

"That boy…would be alive today if he minded his own business."

Walt shook his head.

"That boy would be alive if you didn't let drugs take over your life. You've already lost your marriage. Your son. What do you have left?"

Colter's face flushed with anger.

"You don't know anything about my son. Or my marriage. Take your gun out of the holster and put it on the ground. Now."

There was a new force in Colter's voice. An emotion that Walt didn't hear before. His comment hit a nerve. That much was obvious. Walt slowly moved his hand and pulled the Colt free. With clear, methodical movements, he knelt down and laid the gun on the ground. His eyes stayed on Colter, never wavering.

Colter swallowed hard.

"Now…step away from it."

Walt did as he was told and took one step back away from the gun. Colter took a step forward, keeping the distance between them the same. Their eyes stayed locked.

"Vic is behind me. Not far. Just…give up and end this. It doesn't have to be any worse for you."

Walt saw Colter dismiss the idea. The armed Marshal took a step closer to the gun that lay on the ground between them.

"I'm not sure how things can get worse. Maybe…I should just shoot you and get it over with."

Walt watched Colter, taking in his demeanor and his movements. Colter kept his eyes on Walt as he stepped up to the discarded gun. With his weapon still aimed at Walt, Colter started to kneel, keeping his eyes up. The gun dipped the slightest bit and Walt knew that was his best chance to end this.

That was his moment.

Walt knew that he would need to move fast. His movements would need to be precise and quick. Any error in timing, any wrong judgements could prove deadly. At this point, he didn't want to see anyone else dead. The man in front of him was weak in more ways than one. In Walt's mind, it was the right time and the right risk.

In one quick, long step, he closed the distance between them, sidestepped just in case Colter fired and reached for the hand that was holding the weapon on him. Walt's hand closed around Colter's wrist before there was any time to react. With a strong motion, he pressed the wrist back and Colter let out a muttered curse.

Walt heard the bones in the wrist crack. The gun fired once harmlessly into the air before Colter's fingers went loose with pain and it fell to the ground. Walt gave Colter a hard shove that sent him sprawling onto the ground away from Walt and the guns. He swept his hand down and grabbed Colter's weapon. Bending down, he snatched up his Colt and slid it safely into the holster. Grabbing Colter by his jacket, he hauled the man up onto his feet and pressed him into the nearest tree, holding him firmly in place.

"Don't move."

There was a warning in his tone. But, Colter seemed resigned to his fate. Breathing heavily, the injured man slumped against the tree, letting it take some of his weight. He lifted his dull eyes to Walt and any fight that might've existed there was gone.

Walt heard heavy footsteps. Keeping one hand firmly on Colter, he turned.

Vic and Mason appeared. Mason was still cuffed. Vic held her 9mm in her hand, her eyes taking in the scene in front of her. Walt felt a twinge of guilt when he realized the lone gunshot would have scared her. But, her expression was focused and all business.

"We heard a shot."

It was statement and a question rolled up in one. Walt held up Colter's gun as Vic holstered hers.

"He tried to surprise me. But, it didn't work out the way he planned."

Vic held his eyes for a moment before she turned her attention to Colter. His good hand held his injured wrist, the joint clearly in pain. Vic looked back at Walt with questions in her eyes as she lifted her hand and pointed.

"What happened to his wrist?"

Walt gave her a slight smile. Shaking his head, he looked up at the dark sky that stretched out over them. Lowering his gaze, he pulled Colter away from the tree and aimed him towards the abandoned cabin. It seemed like an eternity since they left there earlier in the day.

"I'll tell you about it later."

Vic nodded, accepting his statement. He could see the relief in her bearing, the knowledge that this was over. Or that it would soon be over. In that moment, all he wanted to do was get these men back to the station. Everything else could wait.

Vic offered him a smile in return as she moved to follow him.

"Okay. Let's get the hell out of here."