Disclaimer: I wish that owned Profiler, because if I did it would still be on the air, Sam would still be on and kicking ass, Bailey and her would
be on their fifth date, and Kronish would be sleeping in a cardboard
box trying to find a job. But as that isn't how it is, NBC, Saunder &
Moses, and that Kronish guy are in charge.
Summary: AU story in which Jack (the real one) is in Macon Federal Pen. PG-13 for some language.
I hate it when Bailey does this to me.
He knows how pissed I get, yet he does it anyway, which pisses me off even further.
When I come up with a definite profile, he insists on being part of the team that brings the suspect in, even though there's no need.
He'd desert me any hour of the day, yet still manage to claim it was for my own safety
It pisses me off.
Bailey's a good man, there's no denying that. But he should know by now that I'm not an invalid, that I can take care of myself with some degree of success.
It's starting to get dark, and every minute that goes by I get more worried and more angry.
~ Damn it Malone where are you ~ I frown, staring out the window of my hotel room at the fading sunset.
Suddenly, I see a government issue rental car pull into the parking lot below and I sigh in relief. My partner's ok. He's returned to me.
A few minutes later he enters my room wearing a smile that quickly fades when he notices my expression.
"Damn you Bailey, if you ditch me one more time, I'm going to kick you right in the ass."
"Sam-"
"Don't 'Sam' me Malone, because right now I'm in no mood for it,"
I reply angrily, glaring up into his eyes. "How would you feel if I had gone out alone after Jack, huh?"
"But I wasn't alone," Bailey replies gently, quickly trying to defuse the temper tantrum time bomb I've managed to work myself into.
"Damn it, don't you see? It doesn't matter if you're alone or with every single agent the Bureau has to offer! You left me here alone leaving no message or telling anyone where you were going! You should know better than that by now, for Christ's sake!" My lower lip begins to quiver, and I turn away, fighting to keep my composure intact for what I must say next, the same exact words Bailey said to me when Jack had returned from his self-imposed exile.
"I just had to know you were all right." A moment of silence entered the room as my partner recognised the significance of what
I've just said.
"What's happened, Sam? Something to do with Jack?" I weakly manage a nod before I find myself sitting in a chair.
"I...I got a phone call from the Warden at Macon. Somehow Jack's
managed to escape from prison."
"No." His voice is flat, a mixture of anger, denial and disbelief.
"There's no way that bastard could have pulled it off. Not when he's
On Death Row."
"His disciples got him out, along with some other notable
prisoners."
"How?"
"They had tons of weaponry…Semi-auto's, tear gas, grenades. Even
with maximum security, it wasn't hard for them, with the amount of
stuff they had. Every law-enforcement agency in Georgia is looking for
them, but..."
"You don't think we'll find him." I lift up my tear-streaked face
and shake my head.
"I know we won't. At least not until he wants to continue the
game."
-----------------
The story of Jack's escape is on every station in the country,
even on the radio stations. With a snarl, I turn it off as Bailey and
I head back to Atlanta, to form a new game plan with the Task Force.
Bailey says nothing during the drive, which leaves us both alone
with our thoughts. I thought the nightmare was over. After seven long
years, Jack was behind bars, and I could go on with my life.
I guess I was wrong.
~ Fin