MR. VICE PRESIDENT, COME ON DOWN!
The pictures were bright and graphic. They had definitely been worth the trip to Chicago. Thomas saw two bodies tangled together on a bed. They were covered in blood and gore. For a long moment, he stared down at the photos as if they transfixed him. If the truth were known, they did. With Donovan's blood, he saw vengeance for Rodney's death. He wasn't sure anymore if he were motivated by his fear of discovery or grief. Wow. Finally. The bastard was dead. He had tried having him killed legitimately by ensuring that he was on death row, but his plans were thwarted. He supposed Donovan hadn't gotten so lucky this time. He looked up at Weiz and smiled crookedly. He had done a superb job.
* * *
Donovan, Jake, Alex, and Pax were strategically placed throughout the building, ducking behind stacks of piled up boxes and old discarded furniture. Apparently, this building was some type of an old storage facility. They were watching and waiting. Although it was obvious to all that the VP had ordered the hit, they couldn't move in just yet. Donovan obsessively called out to his agents in sharp, harsh whispers. He had allowed Pax to separate from him, and he thought his move was stupid. He didn't trust her, didn't think she could hold out long enough for a surprise attack. Damn her stubborn ass, but she wanted a piece of the VP. She hadn't made her desire a secret. The only thought that relieved him was that she was unarmed [or he damn well hoped so].
"Wow, Weizmulder, I'm impressed. Did you blow them to bits or what? The woman? She's Jonella Paxton, right?" Weiz said nothing, he simply nodded. "I heard of this woman many times, but I'm really amazed to note that she and Donovan were messing around. Very, very interesting. Well, Agent Weizmulder, your job is done."
Weiz watched as the VP turned away from him and began to walk toward the exit. Before he had progressed four full steps, Weiz cleared his throat. "By the way, Thomas. That was some serious shit that Donovan got involved with. You know something? When I got to digging around searching for shit on the guy, I found a bunch of these itty-bitty diskettes. Pretty weird, huh?"
Thomas stopped walking and turned back to face Weiz. "Diskettes? Really? What was on them? His collection of porno pics?"
He shook his head. "No. Something much, much worse. Seems that you got into some shady shit, Gordy. Treasonous shit. Funny how another man went down for it, at least for a while, anyway. You ordered me to take ol' Donovan out when I should be taking you out."
"What does it matter now," Thomas asked. "Donovan is dead, as is his girlfriend. End of story."
"I think not," a voice said from the depths of the room.*
Oh hell no. It couldn't be. He was looking down at the dead son-of-a-bitch. His eyes grew large and he swallowed hard when he saw Donovan approaching slowly, cautiously, taking careful aim with his Glock. "I'll be damned," Thomas said with obvious amazement tainting his voice.
"Yes you be," Pax said from behind Donovan.
"Get back," Donovan hissed under his breath.
"Fuck you, Spankie. I'm staying right here," she whispered back.
"Move, Weizmulder," Donovan snarled. Weiz moved and moved quickly. "Very good game you had going for a while, Gordon. You failed, didn't you?"
Thomas sneered at the man. "What? Did you get fucked up the ass by some con, Donovan? Is that why you're so cranky?"
Donovan said nothing. He kept a steady, murderous gaze on the VP. His finger itched to pull the trigger, but he hesitated. He wouldn't allow his anger, his hunger for vengeance to force him to react stupidly. He had to think of his daughter. "It seems as if you'll finally see what a cellblock looks like, right Mr. VP?"
He shrugged. "No so fast, Agent Donovan."
They watched as Thomas suddenly sank down. It almost seemed as if he had stepped into a pothole and lost a couple of inches in height. He whipped out a pistol and straightened up within nanoseconds. Pax heard a tremendous roar issue out of Donovan as he yelled, DROP IT. Thomas didn't listen. He fired a shot as the rest of the team ducked for cover. Donovan barely had time to fire his own shot when he felt a sudden crushing thump on his chest. Vaguely, he thought, I've been hit. Goddamn it, I've been hit. Thomas aimed again, but before he could squeeze off a shot, the room filled with a loud cracking noise reporting from Weizmulder's custom made semi-automatic. It was the gun with the funky pointed bullets that nearly sent Pax to her reward. Hit. Hit. I've been hit, Donovan thought wonderingly as he sank to the hard concrete floor. His last thought before he passed out was, Damn, that fucking hurt. In the thick fog of confusion, he heard dozens of voices around him, some screaming, some not. One of the screaming voices was Pax.
When the shooting started, Pax had tried to wrench Jake's gun away from him, but he wouldn't give it over. She was fucking unarmed and she had a very clear shot of the psycho vice president. Goddamn. Why hadn't she snagged a gun? Damn you, Frankie, damn you, she thought right before he touched his chest and fell to the floor. At that point, she didn't care about anything or anyone that wasn't Frank Donovan. She felt hands and arms pulling her back, keeping her out of the line of fire. However, by that time, it was all over. Weiz's pointy bullets had done their job well. As if her feet were mired in mud, it took Pax an hour and a half to reach Donovan's body that was no more than two feet from where she stood. His eyes were half-lidded and rolled up in the back of his head. She saw the hole in his shirt but there was no blood. Panicked, her rationality was nil. She couldn't think. Her brain was nothing more than a large quivering organ. She went down on her knees beside him and placed his head into her lap.
"Come on, Frank, wake up you fucker," she said. Her hand smacked his cheek, but it didn't faze him. "You shit, fucking open your eyes!" [Pax? Is she crying? Is her voice thick with tears? What the hell? Goddamn that slap hurt. First my chest is crushed and now she's trying to break my jaw. Silly Pax.] "Frank? Frank! Won't you open your damn eyes? Do it, goddamn you. Don't go out like this. Damn it, you witless fuck," she said, choking on her tears. "Why in goddamn hell didn't you just let me take it? You witless, witless fuck." She smacked his cheek again. "How am I going to fucking explain this to your kid?" [Ow. That hurt. Would you please stop popping my jaw? Gimme a break, you she bitch, I've been fucking shot.] "You son-of-a-bitch," she whispered. "You can't do this to me, you bastard. You win. Goddamn you. You win. I love you."
Holy hell. Did she say that? She jumped when she heard a pained chuckle escaping him. "Bullet proof, under the shirt," he said. She backed away and looked at him incredulously. She thought she had been speaking to a corpse. "Jonella, I knew it. I knew it!"
She gave a disgusted little cry and moved, his head bonking onto the concrete floor. He groaned again, but laughed a little at the same time. "You bastard," she cried indignantly. "You sneaky, sneaky bastard. I take it back. I don't. I don't."
"Too late," he said as he sat up with a grimace of pain on his face. He absently caressed the back of his head. "Too late now," he said, a wicked little gleam in his eyes.
"Fuck you, Spankie," she yelled before she walked away from him.
* * *
It took a couple of days to sort out the mess the VP had made. Almost everyone walked away happy, but not happy. Mixed and emotion were the buzzwords of the day. Weizmulder walked away with his 'unit,' and Donovan's name was finally cleared. Yet, there were disturbing issues floating about as well. The death of Gordon Thomas wasn't something any of them could celebrate, of course, but somehow, his death brought relief to Donovan. He felt awkward feeling and thinking that, but he did. He had walked around with that horrible black mark on his record far too long. The CIA had set him up nicely, two ways at once. It was over now, over and done with. There were still a few things left undone.
Donovan sustained a bruised rib from the shooting, but nothing more serious than that. Yet, what happened between he and Pax in those first few scary moments played on his nerves. However, neither of them broached the subject again. One reason for that, of course, was that Pax hadn't been around. She wouldn't see or speak to him. He didn't blame her. He had [sorta kinda] played a nasty trick on her. He hadn't necessarily faked the pain or the unconsciousness, but he had actually been so surprised by her reaction that he was rendered speechless. He had never seen her like that before, and he liked it. It was strange, but he did. The last day she was in town, he made it a point to go to her hotel room to see her off. She had lapsed into her bizarre quiet mood again, so he didn't push it. She consented to his company and allowed him to take her to the airport.
When they arrived, the two of them didn't say much to each other and it was something that Donovan didn't like. Every time he tried to talk to her, she would either ignore him or run off to inspect some stupid magazine rack. Eventually, he grew tired of the avoidance. He wasn't one who tolerated it very much. He approached her as she browsed through a stack of magazines. He took hold of her arm and turned her to face him. "Jonella, please. Before you leave, I want to say something to you." When she didn't protest or start cursing him, he said, "Thank you for everything you did. I wouldn't have gotten through these last couple of days if you hadn't been around."
She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Frank. You don't have to thank me."
He shook his head. "Oh, but I do." Without giving her an opportunity to speak, he lowered his head a bit and kissed her.
Pax broke it a moment later when she heard her flight called. She turned away and began making her way toward the proper gate. He stood back and watched her for the briefest of moments. He had forgotten to say something else to her; it consisted of a few words he had never uttered to her.
"Jonella," he called.
She stopped and turned toward him. "What is it now," she asked.
"I love you, too," he said.
His admission startled her a little, but didn't rattle her much. Pax smiled a little before flipping him off. "Do you think I'm going to believe that, Frank?"
Donovan laughed and shook his head. "Yes, I think you do."
"Look me up whenever you're in Miami."
He gazed at her intensely, steadily. "Count on it."
Without another word, she turned back around and disappeared. He stayed and looked after her until her plane took off.
* * *
Donovan answered his door to Remy and Stasia. He wasn't surprised to see either of them. She had called after he returned from the airport, asking if she could bring the baby to him. It had taken him half a second to accept. He stood back and noticed that Remy had carried in more of Stasia's things than she would need for a few days. He thought it odd, but said nothing. Remy set their daughter down on the floor.
"What's going on, Remy?"
She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed deeply. "If you're not okay with this, you can tell me, and we'll call it even. I still want to move away from here, and what has happened in the last few days has pushed me further toward this. I won't take Stasia with me. As much as it kills me to be away from her, I'd rather leave her here than tear you apart while I look around for a new place. So, what I'd like to do is allow you all the time you want with her. Keep her, love her, and remember how she came about, recall the love that was there. Think about it and make up your mind. Even if you decide to choose and it's not me, I don't want to punish you. Maybe being with her and thinking about those things will help you. Maybe it won't. I don't know. Do you want this?"
Donovan reached down to pick up the baby. He hugged her to him and kissed her cheek. "Yes. I want her to stay. I've always wanted her to stay."
Remy went to Stasia and kissed her cheek. "Mommy will be back soon, baby," she said.
"Bye bye, Mommy," Stasia said.
* * *
It was around midnight when Donovan was roused out of bed by a gentle rapping at his door. He climbed out of bed and shrugged into his robe. He hoped the noise didn't disturb Stasia. He padded silently to the door and stuck his eye up to the peephole. What is she doing back, he thought. He opened the door and barely had time to breathe before she threw herself into his arms and kissed him. He felt himself responding to her every touch. He had to get her inside quickly before they awakened the other woman in his life.
FINIS____________________
*A reference to a line from "The Mummy Returns." Ar-death-bay. Need I explain? HA!