Hi friends,
hope to delight your afternoon (or day, or night; I wouldn't know since here its 2 p.m.) with a new chapter. Let me tell you that balancing the story as we enter the real deal is becoming difficult, but that's a challenge I accept with open arms. I'm overwhelmed by your response, thank you!
Plus, I've got Stefanie, who's an amazing beta! Thank you so much, always.
During this certainly strange Easter I hope to write more and update quicker. Please stay safe and at home! (It sucks, and I've been in quarantine for over a month, but it's what has to be done.)
G-
Chapter 6: Where does the good go?
"This doesn't make any sense," Mike thought aloud.
Since Stu had delivered the shocking news that it wasn't just some aimless attack to a random place, but a well planned vendetta against one of them, the group had started speculating on who would want to hurt Harvey.
"I mean, you're a lawyer, making people to pay for their mistakes is your job... but wanting to kill you? Shooting you point-blank? Who would be capable of something like this?"
"Right," Harvey raised his eyes just for a split of a second, before bringing his attention back to the phone in his hands, "do I need to make a list?"
"Harvey, you shouldn't underestimate the situation. While you laugh here, people have been killed," Stu replied, clear bitterness laced with his tone. The reaction surprised him as well because he knew that Harvey's comment had been purely wry and absolutely without malice. All of that though, couldn't do anything to smooth over this unconscious sense of resentment — resentment for what had happened to his friends and colleagues.
Harvey felt ashamed of himself the second Stu's words came out of his mouth. It was neither the place, nor the time, to throw jokes around, and he had to face the fact that it wasn't a situation where he could be allowed to be funny.
Thinking about it, Stu had been a true gentleman, far too good, choosing to overlook the fact that the murders were only bumps in the road to get to Harvey. It was a matter of grace that he was still alive, and he had to start acting on that.
"Sorry, Stu." He threw the man a sincere apologetic look. "You're right."
That was enough for Stu to let it go. It was already water under the bridge, and besides, they were in the same boat now and they had to start working like a real team to get out of there alive.
"Tell us." Harvey focused his attention sorely on him, but still clutching the phone tightly in his left hand. Maybe he was hoping it would somehow make Donna pick up. "Did he tell you who he was? What did he look like?"
"Well, he didn't tell me anything. He just kept shouting your name, asked a couple of people where your office was. Of course, no one was willing to answer."
Harvey almost wanted to thank him for looking after him, enduring the threats and resisting the big temptation that is saving your life in exchange for someone else's. But he didn't think that the outcome had been worth the risk, so he just stayed quiet and let him go on.
"That's when he opened fire. I found a spot under one of the desks and I hid there, so I couldn't see much." Everyone's faces fell with disappointment, until Stu added, "But, as far as I can tell he was... not that tall, maybe a little shorter than Mike, icy blue eyes, almost greyish, mostly bald..."
The group was racking their brains over every possible matching profile. Anyone they could have heard about, or even worked against on a case with Harvey. It had to be something related to the firm, since the lawyer didn't seem to have any connection with criminal activities.
"Does that help you?" Stu looked at the others hopefully.
Suddenly, something in Harvey's mind clicked, and he didn't understand how he didn't figure it out sooner.
Turning towards Mike and sharing a knowing glance, he knew the kid had just had the same intuition. "Are you thinking about what I'm thinking?"
Then they both vocalized their guess at the same time, "Frank Gallo."
"Damn it." Harvey cursed under his breath, a new rush of panic pulsing in his veins and urging him to call Donna for the umpteenth time.
"Who the hell is Frank Gallo?" Stu asked eagerly.
"He was one of the inmates at the prison where I spent the last couple of months. Let's just say we didn't leave on the best of the terms." Mike briefly explained a far too complex and long story.
Meanwhile, Harvey kept silently praying for Donna to pick up. Now that he knew how dangerous the situation truly was, knowing Gallo's delusions of grandeur and insatiable hunger for payback, he just needed to hear her voice, reassuring him she was okay.
But none of that really came.
Harvey slammed the phone on the coffee table with force, leaving all of his friends concerned for his state of mind. But Louis wasn't too in tune with emotions to see this outburst as a subtle cry for help, assuming instead that Harvey was just giving up.
"Why are you wasting time? Try calling her." Louis pressed him.
Harvey let out a deep sigh, exhausted. They were at it for not even a couple of minutes and he was already dead tired.
"I already tried." He sounded almost defeated.
"Well," he insisted, "try again!"
"I've called her over five times. She's not answering!" Harvey threw his hands in the air in an exasperated gesture, his tone getting dangerously high as the sentence dragged on, "She's-"
For some reason — one that he could pinpoint very well — he couldn't bring himself to say anything bad, in the horrible possibility it could carry some truth. The words died on his tongue, crushed by an unbearable load of pain and apprehension.
He tried to swallow against a dry throat, the failed attempt only fueling his nausea. He mentally cursed his inability to think straight and not panic any time something happened regarding her. Keep it together Specter, he told himself, now is not the time.
The realization that he wasn't functional right when it mattered the most was a hard truth, but it didn't make it any less real.
To be honest, Harvey always managed to keep his anxiety from transpiring, tucking it away when possible and putting his brave face on. He frequently used this strategy in court, but it also applied to trifles in his everyday life. It was a pretty successful mechanism, rock-solid even, because it challenged him while also keeping his emotions at bay. A win-win. It served its aim perfectly because when Harvey played, he played to win.
To most people he would look as cool as a cucumber, but not to Jessica. She had picked him up from that dusty mailroom years prior and forced him to stand on his own feet, teaching him how to morph to adapt to society. The smart kid was suddenly thrown into a reality he didn't even know he could fit into, methodically coiffed and set up by a woman who both didn't realize was acting as his mentor. As much as he tried to deny it, Jessica had made Harvey Specter the man that everyone knew him as nowadays.
That was the reason why she knew when he was miserable.
"Okay, let's not cross that bridge just yet. You said it yourself, Harvey, she's probably still out. Maybe she has turned off her phone," she jumped into the conversation, bringing reason to play in his favor.
"No, you don't understand. She always answers. And plus," he momentarily paused, checking his Patel Philippe 5004P, "she should have gotten back over twenty minutes ago, and Donna is never late."
"Harvey-" She begged him to not let the worst conjectures take the better of him, but when he raised his hand to halt her, Jessica knew it was a losing battle.
"Don't," he closed his eyes, "just- don't. Don't tell me this is only in my head and that I'm panicking without reason. I know that something's wrong."
Jessica sighed at the stark reality. There was no reasoning with Harvey, mainly because deep down she knew he was probably right. They hadn't heard from the redhead, and not getting a hold of her when a killer was strolling around the firm, could easily be the simplest yet most fatal reason.
The managing partner took three steps ahead, hesitantly raising her hand to put it on Harvey's shoulder. It hurt seeing him like this, and right now she couldn't allow herself to feel the pain. She needed to bring her A-game, and she needed the best partner she'd ever had to be right there with her as well. She didn't think she could survive it alone.
Eyes still closed, Harvey felt the warmth of her gentle and vaguely maternal touch. Jessica spoke with a tactfulness he'd rarely ever heard, "I get that you're worried about her. You want to keep her safe, but the police is already taking care of it. They've already blocked the entrance of the building, no one can get in."
"And no one can get out." His gaze settled on her, leaving Jessica uneasy and unexpectedly unsettled. "What if she's already here and she's in danger?"
Jessica just stared at him, lips glued together.
The question was meant to leave her speechless. It was purposefully harsh and insidious, because she obviously couldn't guarantee anything in her position.
"I have to check," Harvey suddenly snapped, shrugging Jessica's hand off and eyeing the door with determination.
In all honesty, everyone had been surprised he hadn't rushed out when the second ring didn't meet Donna's voice.
Harvey was an impulsive man, and they all knew it. If he wanted something, he'd move heaven and earth to get it. He was reckless under many points of view, because luck always seemed to turn in his favor, making him feel powerful and leaving him craving for more. The gambler that he claimed to be, enjoyed raising his tower of chips, daring more and more, supposing he was invincible just because.
But sooner or later he'd have to realize that he really was just human. He couldn't be right all the time and eventually run out of luck. But like everybody else, he would understand only when he'd land on his ass at rock bottom, and, as much as Jessica wanted him to grow up, she wished he didn't have to learn at his expenses. Harvey was a tough nut to crack and the karma wheel spun for everyone, so he would probably be at the receiving end this time.
"Harvey you don't always have to be the hero. Just- stay here and wait for the SWAT team to do their job," Jessica shouted at the back of his head, trying to hang on the last little amount of reason he had left.
He turned around, face hard and unreadable, "Jessica, I understand and appreciate your concern, but there's no room for argument here. It's non-negotiable."
Harvey was in for a fight, and he knew she knew that.
Jessica took a step back and gulped.
"Come on." Mike nodded his head in the direction of the hallway, "Let's go get them."
Harvey felt partly relieved in hearing that his friend was game. Sure, being on board with the risky idea of getting out there unharmed and without any leverage whatsoever meant he was just as desperate, but he was glad regardless.
Harvey silently acknowledged his gratitude by forcing a genuine smile.
"That's madness," Louis erupted, furious and scared all at once. "You're going to get yourself killed! You can't help anyone if you're dead."
"Let them go." Jessica surprised them all by giving her blessing.
Louis eyed her confused. She had been the first to try and talk Harvey out of it, and suddenly she was encouraging him?
"They're not gonna change their mind. Trying to dissuade these two knuckleheads is pointless," she explained. Knowing Mike and Rachel's history, and that it could be Donna at stake — the woman Harvey couldn't function without — only added reasons to be certain the two men wouldn't back off.
"Let's just keep in touch and try to be as quiet as possible. As soon as you find Donna and Rachel, you get back here and no one moves," she half-pleaded half-demanded.
"Consider it done." Harvey agreed, moving with Mike towards the glass door of Jessica's office again.
"Harvey," she called him, "be careful." Staring at him intently.
He broke their eye contact instantly — that wasn't the last time they were seeing each other. He would make sure of that.
The echo of each step the two men took resonated in the rather empty hallway, bringing to life the soundtrack of their death march. Footsteps landed heavily on the ground, marking the trail that would lead the predator to the prey. Every step they took left them more exposed and closer to the imminent danger, but there was no turning back now.
In front of them, stretched a wilderness, once land of liveliness, now turned into a ghost town. While the silence might have seemed due to the scarcity of the partners after Mike's departure, the deafening silence was still too odd. It had little to do with business, and much to do with the fact that dead people don't speak.
Mike and Harvey had developed some kind of hypersensitivity since the macabre emptiness rendered any other little sound suddenly loud and noticeable. Even a rustle of paper or sound of their own shoes on the ground made them jump. And as much as staying alert was positive, that was more like their warning bell, dooming them to get caught sooner rather than later.
As they were about to turn the corner, Mike cautiously took a peek to their right to make sure it was all clear. Harvey pressed himself behind the kid's shoulder to get a glimpse himself, only to find the space apparently empty. Seized with a stranger sense of confidence, Harvey pulled away and embarked the corridor first. He hadn't failed to notice the heat emanating from Mike's skinny body, proof of the incredible amount of agitation that was nagging at him.
He drew in a sharp but deep breath, telling himself he could loosen up a bit.
As they approached the first desk in sight though, their stomachs dropped unpleasantly, like they were riding a roller coaster and they had just taken the way down. Both men brought their hands to their faces, Mike covering his mouth for the shock, Harvey holding his nose for the smell. Although his brain had already registered the harsh smell of fresh blood and made sure to keep the memory alive in his mind.
A toned body laid slack on the ground. The white undertone of the skin was turning into a sickening green, and the eyes were still wide open, stuck with the initial shock of the aggression, although there was no life behind them.
The deceased man was floating on a pool of blood, making it impossible for Harvey to understand where he had been shot, even if he wanted to.
Harvey had never thought a human could hold so much blood. It felt like the scarlet liquid spilled endlessly from his lifeless body; as being dead wasn't already enough, the poor man had to endure being deprived until the last drop of life.
Thinking about it, the corpse probably belonged to one of the new tenants, since there was a little chance he was a client, or they would have recognized him.
The fact that Harvey had supposedly been working with that broker all these months under the same roof, but now wasn't even able to tell his name, hurt him in a way he didn't even know possible. Him being basically a stranger didn't waver the striking turmoil of seeing a dead body though, and Harvey felt like he was grieving his humanity more than the man's soul itself.
He wanted to get back. He wanted to undo everything. Delete, delete, delete until the last thing he remembered was what he had eaten for breakfast.
It took a toll on Harvey's certainties.
Just when he had started to come to terms with what he truly wanted, and had made peace with his feelings, a curveball was sent his way. It almost felt like a punishment, tearing him down just when he had started to rise again. Timing was just cruel, or fair, for the matter.
"Come on," Harvey barely whispered, "there's nothing we can do for him," he said, and it felt like leaving his brother behind. He guessed that was the first big piece of mercy he had to lose to survive this hell. Harvey only wished he would be left with enough to be considered human again.
Not without fuss or reluctance, Mike moved away from the body, avoiding it like it had been infected by some contagious disease, but never actually tearing his eyes from the oxblood staining his dress shirt.
None of them uttered a word during their rounds, not even when they came across the second, then the third, then the fourth and the fifth corpse scattered around the room. They were like toys long forgotten by the attention of a spoiled child, just like that — left to rot, without care or dignity.
The fact that neither of them cringed anymore at the view of the third body was probably an aspect they should have worried about. But there wasn't time to think about their lack of sensitivity.
A new hallway came in sight, and while the chance of bumping into an armed Frank Gallo was even more prominent, their throats tightened at the idea of more blood, more dead coworkers, or worse, agonizing ones. It was definitely easier to bypass the people who couldn't beg you to help them.
Out of nowhere, a third sound of footsteps joined theirs.
Both Harvey and Mike froze on their spot, unable to move a limb, unable to make word, unable to think, except for the little voice in their head that screamed to run, run and not look back.
Definitely not a smart choice: the bullet of a gun travels on average of 2,500 feet per second, so fast it can cut your brain in two before you even have the chance to turn around.
Yeah, not a good idea.
The sound of measured steps was still feeble, but nonetheless closer. They had too little time to think, and too much was at stake. Harvey's brain was clouded in some kind of haze that ensured him total disconnection andbewilderment.
Until something snapped.
He forced himself out of the daze, looking around feverishly, scanning the area back and forth. He glimpsed the entrance of the file room out of the corner of his eye and he rapidly browsed his options. He was pretty positive that they could make it inside safely, even if Mike showed no signs of life, or will to move.
Thinking that they couldn't pretend to be dead like opossums, he made a unilateral decision and dragged the kid away. Pulling him at the sleeve of his jacket and keeping his head down placing a hand on his neck, Harvey led the way until they reached the file room in just a couple of strides. He shut the door behind them.
Leaning against the shelves, they tried to catch their breath, taken away more from the scare, than the run. Harvey bent forward balancing his weight on his knees, panting heavily, still not totally processing what had just happened.
"Wow, man," Mike chocked out, "what a save." He gulped against a constricted throat.
Harvey only managed a cough as a response. In all honesty, his action had been dictated by instincts alone, but he welcomed the praise with open arms nonetheless.
The adrenaline hadn't even stopped pumping through their veins, that the door was pushed open.
Mike's heart jumped to his throat, and for a moment he thought he would actually choke on it. "You didn't lock the door?"
Harvey didn't know how to answer that. He didn't- did he? No, he couldn't have. And yet, the door was now wide open.
"How could you forget to lock the freakin' door?!" Mike whispered, but it came out with the force and insistence of a scream. "Everything about the save, I take it all back!"
The invader stepped over the threshold and moved around the room, so that his steps were heard first to their right, now to their left. If the couple had to take a guess, he was rounding the shelves to check for any possible presences.
Mike scanned the table in front of him and Harvey, eyeing a stapler and promptly taking it in his hands.
Harvey looked at him incredulously, trying to convey through his dirty stares what he couldn't say with actual words. A stapler? That's your brilliant plan?!, they seemed to spell. Do you have any better ideas?, Mike's eyes seemed to complain.
He wanted to be brave, he really wanted to, with every fiber of his being. Unfortunately though, when your opponent has a gun, acting like the brave hero doesn't usually pay off. Maybe putting up a fight wasn't exactly the brightest idea, and if he would just beg on his knees to be spared, Gallo would have mercy.
Mike shoved the thought away as soon as it had formed. Truth is, embarrassed or not by his cowardice, he actually pondered it for a second there. To give it all up.
The presence of the outsider was now evident. Mike, on the nearest end of the shelf, was the one who could actually feel this body standing on the other side of the metal piece of furniture. His head begun to spin, his palms were sweating — at this point he prayed whatever god was up there to not let the stapler fall out of his grab — and his heart was racing at an impressive speed.
One beat, two beats, Mike raised the stapler in his hands, got ready to strike and...
"Oh my sweet baby Jesus!" The thin man who rounded the shelf shielded himself, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"Benjamin?!" Harvey and Mike yelled simultaneously.
"God, you've scared the crap out of us!" Harvey screamed out of his lungs, "We thought you were the shooter!"
"Well, I'm hiding from the shooter!" Benjamin jumped at his defense. "Why the stapler?" He gestured to the 'weapon' still in firing position in Mike's hands.
"Oh, I- I had to protect us with something!" Mike almost blushed, being diminished by the IT guy was definitely a first.
"With a stapler?" Benjamin threw him a what a loser look, complete with a crooked smile. "Nevermind," he quickly dismissed their little chat, "I might not be the killer, but I heard someone coming this way."
The now familiar grip at their stomachs returned full force, as the door was opened once again.
What was with not locking the door, anyway?
This time though, they were three hiding behind the shelves, and most likely not that lucky to find an harmless computer technician rather than an armed psycho again.
Mike reinforced his grip on the stapler, putting it into position again. Harvey would have actually rolled his eyes at his former protégé if their current predicament wasn't so fatal.
So they waited again, hands wielding their faux weapon, hearts hammering out of their chests, footsteps approaching, rounding the shelves, and, when they finally came face to face with the new intruder, Harvey's heart missed a beat, but for a completely different reason.
Donna?
I know, I know, the cliffhanger... again. Well, I hope you enjoyed this gallery of dead bodies (gross), staplers and Benjamins regardless ! I personally enjoyed writing it so much, let me know what you think! I'm thirsty of human contact!