ACT II
Bobby groaned as he sat up, crunching his face painfully against broken glass and metal. He cautiously popped his head up to what was left of the windshield and sighed in relief when he realized the machine gun toting men were gone. He ran his hands over his body, trying to determine if he had been hit. There were a few cuts from glass but other than that, he appeared to be uninjured. He sighed in relief and glanced over at his partner. "Fawkes, you okay, buddy?"
Darien moaned and slowly sat up, panting in pain. "Hobbes," he whispered between breaths.
"Fawkes, you okay?" asked Bobby with concern as he took in Darien's sweaty, pale face. "You got any holes in you?"
Darien stretched up into a full sitting position. "I don't know I…ahhhhhh," he screamed as a sharp pain tore through his stomach. His hand pressed against the area and came away covered in blood. He held it out in horror towards Bobby. "Hobbes, I'm hit, man, I'm hit," he yelled out in fear.
"Damn it!" shouted Bobby as he scooted next to his partner and tried to survey the damage. He pulled away Darien's shirt and jacket and swore under his breath when he saw a large bloody wound on Darien's abdomen. "Fawkes, oh god. We gotta get you to a hospital," said Bobby as he scooted back behind the wheel and tried to start the van. A cloud of smoke exploded from the engine, but nothing else happened. "Son of a bitch!" he yelled, smacking his hands against the steering wheel in frustration.
He glanced at Darien's sweaty face and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Just hang on, buddy, I'll be right back," he said as he got out of the van. He dashed into the street, praying that a car would come along. Less than a minute later, a white station wagon appeared on the horizon, and Bobby nearly kissed the street in relief. He stepped into the middle of the road with his badge out and his gun aimed at the car.
The station wagon skidded to a stop and Bobby quickly ran to the driver's side window, eyeing the middle-aged woman driver. "I need your car ma'am, this is an emergency," said Bobby firmly. The woman eyed the blood on Bobby's clothes and nodded her head. She quickly grabbed her purse and got out of the car.
Bobby dashed back to the van and opened the passenger's side door. "We gotta get out of here, Fawkes," he said in a gentle tone as he started pulling Darien out of the van.
"I can't," wheezed Darien as he gasped for breath.
"Sure you can, buddy," said Bobby as he got Darien fully out of the van and took most of his weight. He pointed at the station wagon. "We just gotta get right over there," he said as he started dragging Darien towards the car.
Darien moaned in pain and nearly fell to the ground.
"Whoa, whoa, I got ya," said Bobby as he got a better grip on his partner.
The owner of the station wagon eyed the pair in fear. "Do you need me to call for help?" she asked as she reached into her bag and pulled out her cell phone.
Bobby shook his head as he managed to get Darien in the car. "No thanks, ma'am, we got it covered. Uncle Sam will pay for your car, don't worry," he shouted as he ran to the driver's side and got in. He removed his cell phone from his jacket and then quickly pressed the piece of clothing firmly against Darien's stomach, eliciting a panting scream from his partner. "Easy, easy, it's okay. You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be okay," Bobby whispered over and over again as he started the car and sped off down the street.
He kept glancing over at Darien as he drove, scared to death for his partner. The sound of his cell phone ringing sobered him out of his thoughts. He reached to his side and quickly answered it, thankful that the phone hadn't been damaged in the attack. "Hobbes," he screamed into the phone.
"Code Omega," said the Official urgently.
"Sir, Fawkes has been shot, I need to get him to a hospital," said Bobby as he reached over to Darien and pressed the jacket tighter against his body, causing Darien to groan loudly in pain.
"The Agency is under attack, Hobbes. We have to evacuate to the second location. The hospitals are too dangerous," said the Official as he glanced over at Claire and Eberts from his standing position on the ground floor of the Agency. Claire's right arm was folded protectively against her chest and her face was covered in cuts and bruises. Eberts was holding his hand against his back, which had been badly bruised in the explosion. "We're leaving right now," he continued as he pressed a hand against a large bruise on his forehead, which caused him to wince in pain.
"Is everyone okay?" asked Bobby with concern.
"There were bombs in the equipment delivered this morning. Claire has a broken arm and extensive cuts and bruises. Eberts and I suffered minor injuries. I haven't been able to get a hold of Monroe," said the Official grimly.
"I'm sure she's okay, chief. She's tough," said Bobby reassuringly as he glanced over at Darien. Darien' eyes were threatening to close. Bobby reached his hand out and slapped Darien's cheek lightly. "Stay with me, buddy," he yelled firmly. Bobby turned his attention back to the phone. "Chief, Fawkes is really bad, I don't know if he's going to make it."
"Just bring him to the new base. You know where it is. We'll be waiting with supplies to treat him," answered the Official.
Bobby nodded even though the Official couldn't see him. "Okay, chief. See you soon," he said as he hung up the phone.
Darien whimpered and looked at Bobby. "What the hell's going on?" he whispered, trying to catch his breath.
"I think our six assassin friends have declared war on Fish and Game, Fawkes. Our two shooters were none other than James Pitney and Chip Sinclaire. We've got to get out of the line of fire," said Bobby as he headed for the highway.
"Where are we going?" asked Darien.
"A safe house of sorts. A designated government facility built specifically for instances like this," answered Bobby.
Darien nodded and stretched out his slender body, trying to ignore the burning ache of agony in his belly. "Hobbes, I'm scared," he confessed in a whisper.
Bobby looked over at his partner and gave him a reassuring smile. "I won't let you die, my friend, I promise you. Bobby Hobbes has got your back."
"Thanks, partner," said Darien with an appreciative glance. Then his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped against the window.
"Damn it, Fawkes" cursed Bobby. He pushed his foot down on the gas even harder, desperate to get Darien some help.
**
Alex regained consciousness suddenly, nearly bashing her head against her car. She glanced to her right and breathed a silent thank you that her assailant was still unconscious. In fact, judging from the blood running down the back of his head, he would be out for some time. It was then that she realized who the man was. Ivan Gatewood. "Son of a bitch," she said in realization.
She groaned in pain and stood up, reaching into her pocket to pull out a pair of handcuffs. She grabbed Ivan and fastened his arm to the stirring wheel of her car. Then she slowly started walking around her car, trying to assess the damage.
Five minutes and a lot of swearing later, she quickly determined that her car was undrivable. She also realized that she had lost her cell phone. She glanced up at her assailant's Sedan and quickly dashed over to it, looking for a phone. She peered inside the window and nodded in appreciation when she saw one sitting on the passenger's seat. She quickly opened the door and grabbed the phone, her fingers ready to dial the Agency's number before they even touched the keypad. Three rings later, she heard the gruff voice of the Official pick up. "This is him," he answered.
"Sir, this is Monroe. I was just nearly killed. I think the assassins we're hunting are actually hunting us," she said in a strangely calm voice.
"What?" he said in surprise. "Never mind that, just get to the second location now. We're all targets, and we need to get underground
"Sir, I've got the guy who tried to kill me and guess who it is? None other than Ivan Gatewood," said Alex in a smug tone.
She could tell the Official was smiling by the tone of his voice. "Excellent, Monroe. I'm glad you're okay. Get here as soon as you can. Make sure you're not tailed," said the Official.
"Not a problem," said Alex as she hung up the phone. She got into the driver's seat of the Sedan and started the engine, driving it next to her ditched Corvette. Then she got out of the car and ran to her cuffed prisoner, who was still dead to the world. She uncuffed him and dragged him into the passenger's side of the Sedan. She cuffed him to the door and then ran around to the driver's side, quickly getting in and shutting the door behind her. Then she sped off, leaving her totaled Corvette in a trail of dust.
**
Bobby skidded to a stop beside a black government-issue car outside the small concrete building that was out in the middle of nowhere. He quickly got out of the car and ran around to the other side to get Darien out of the passenger's seat. "Fawkes, we're here, buddy," he whispered into his partner's ear.
Darien moaned and opened his eyes, looking up at Bobby. "Where am I?" he whispered in a weak tone.
"You're safe, Fawkes, you're safe. We're going to take care of you," he said in a reassuring tone as he reached under Darien's arm to lift him out of the car.
"Ahhhhh," screamed Darien in agony.
Bobby sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, battling tears of fear and frustration. It was then that he heard the sound of Claire's voice from behind him.
"How bad, Bobby?" asked Claire as she ran to the car and checked out Darien. She put her hand up to her mouth when she saw the amount of blood he had lost. "We have to get him inside now," she said firmly.
She turned to face Bobby and he noticed how bad she looked. Her right arm was in a sling, her face was covered in painful looking cuts and bruises and she was limping slightly with every step. "Keep, are you okay?" he asked in a soft voice.
Claire glanced at him and nodded. "I'll survive," she said.
"What's going on, how's Fawkes?" asked the Official as he stepped out from the building. Claire pointed into the car and the Official quickly took a peek, wincing slightly in sympathy as he saw the amount of pain Darien was in. He took one look at Bobby and quickly determined that he was about to drop from shock, pain and fear. The Official proceeded to grab Darien's arms and pull him out of the car, despite Darien's whimpering protests. He got him fully out of the car and then lifted him into his arms, surprised at how little the tall agent seemed to weigh.
"You got him, chief?" asked Bobby as he followed the Official and Claire towards the doorway of the building.
"Yeah," said the Official as he entered the doorway to the building. The doorway opened onto a small hallway with an elevator at the end. Bobby pushed the down button and the group waited in silence for the door to open, the only sounds audible were the harsh pain-filled pants coming from Darien. The elevator opened a second later and the group clamored inside. Three floors down later, the door opened and Bobby was greeted with the sight of a large underground bunker. There were about 10 cots set out, along with computers, video monitors and medical supplies. Eberts was laying on one of the cots with an icepack pressed against his back. When he saw the group enter the room, he quickly got up. "Is there anything I can do?" he asked as the Official gently deposited Darien on one of the cots.
"Not right now, I need to examine him," answered Claire as she swept aside Darien's shirt and jacket to get a closer look at the bullet wound. She used his shirt to wipe some of the blood away to get a better look at the actual injury.
Darien reached his hand up and grabbed her uninjured arm to stop the exam. "Stop, please, it hurts," he pleaded.
Claire sighed in sympathy and ran a hand through her hair. "I know, Darien, but I have to do this," she said as she further explored the wound. She looked up at Bobby and motioned to Darien's side. "Can you help me turn him?" she asked.
Without a word, Bobby was at Darien's side. He gently rolled his partner so Claire could examine Darien's back.
"Bloody hell," said Claire in frustration when she didn't see an exit wound. "The bullet's still inside," she said grimly.
Bobby rolled Darien back and swore under his breath.
"What does that mean?" asked Darien in fear.
Claire put her good arm on her hip. "It means we're going to have to remove it with limited supplies."
Darien closed his eyes and swallowed. "Aw crap," he whispered.
"Sir, Ms. Monroe is here," said Eberts as he glanced at the monitor for the video camera outside. "It looks like she has someone with her," he added as he watched her struggle to get someone out of the silver Sedan she was driving.
"Hobbes, get out there and help her," said the Official as he stared down at Darien.
Bobby nodded and quickly got into the elevator.
Claire glanced up at the Official and then back down at Darien. "Sir, we really should take Darien to a hospital to do this."
"No," said the Official firmly.
"Why not?" asked Claire in anger.
"Because whoever planned this little hit thinks we're all dead," answered Eberts.
"What do you mean?" asked Claire.
"I called in a few favors," answered the Official. "The news should be reporting any minute that six government officials were killed this afternoon," he said as he stepped to one of the televisions and switched it on. They were greeted with portraits of themselves being flashed on the screen. The Official turned the volume up so they could hear the news report. "A little after noon today, six agents from a local San Diego intelligence agency were killed in what looks like an assassination attempt by unknown sources. Stay tuned for more on this breaking story."
"What good does that do us?" whispered Darien as the Official switched off the television
"Because we've got one of our so-called assassins," answered Bobby as he and Alex pulled a barely conscious man out of the elevator. "And something tells me you haven't been paid yet, am I right?" asked Bobby as he viciously shook the man.
"Nice," said Darien as he watched Bobby and Alex drag the man to one of the cots and cuff him down.
TBC in ACT III