Chapter Eighteen: Justice Served

"LAPD! Drop the weapon!"

Mark started when Cheryl called the order from her position farther along the corridor, though he'd seen her there. She was half-hidden behind a heavy metal cart. Having completed the Amber-ordered task with the cuffs, he was waiting for some opportunity to do something, anything, that would help. But with Amber's last statement, and the pleased smile that spread across her face at Cheryl's command, he knew that he was fast running out of time.

Amber threw a quick glance over her shoulder in Cheryl's direction before refocusing on Steve. She grinned and tsked him when she noted his almost imperceptible move in her direction. "Surely you wouldn't pull the trigger, Detective Banks. You must know how very dangerous that would be for our friend Steve. Why, your bullet might go right through me and strike him. You wouldn't want that, now would you? Or worse, yet, due to reflex action, my fingers could clench on the trigger and dear Steve would be just as dead as if you'd killed him yourself. So you see, I have the upper hand here."

Mark's heart sank as Cheryl lapsed into silence. She shook her head slightly at him. The risk was too great for her to try to take Amber out with a bullet.

He looked back into the smug expression of the woman who held his son hostage and suddenly an idea struck. "Did you say goodbye to your mother?" The words that erupted from his mouth were tinged heavily with desperation. There was nothing to be done about it; he was a desperate man.

Amber blinked, seeming surprised at the question coming from his direction. She turned her eyes only minutely toward him, then refocused on Steve. "What does that have to with anything?" she asked with a frown, but Mark knew that she knew where he was going.

"I want to say goodbye to my son."

"No," she shook her head furiously. "You should have known this was coming. It's not my fault that you squandered your time."

"I didn't know. And I want to say goodbye. Justice demands it. Are you going to deny me my justice, Amber?" He waited, holding his breath as she seemed to be thinking it over.

Amber reached her decision. "Make it quick. You haven't got much time."

Mark began to move around Steve, toward his right side. He fully intended to place himself between his son and Amber under the guise embracing. Once he was between them, he would think of something, even if it meant getting in the way of that bullet. He was an old man and he'd lived a good life. Steve still had his life ahead of him. He was not going to let Amber take that away, no matter what.

He had just reached Steve's side, when Steve turned his head slightly toward him. Then suddenly, Steve was in motion. Mark wasn't sure where he found the strength or the speed after everything that he'd been through, but somehow he did. He almost seemed to blur as he dropped hard toward his knees, wrapping both his arms about Amber's waist, knocking her off balance as he went down.

"No!" she cried, having been as surprised as Mark. Moving purely on reflex, she had no time to aim, but simply began to slam the butt of the gun hard into the back of Steve's head as they both tumbled toward the floor in an effort to get him to release her.

Both she and Steve hit the floor in a tangle of arms and legs. She continued to scream for him to get off of her, but Steve remained an unrelenting weight against her abdomen. Both his cuffed and un-cuffed wrists were trapped beneath her while his upper body was above, effectively imprisoning her against the tile surface.

Mark caught the motion in his peripheral vision as Cheryl and the other officers moved in. But they wouldn't arrive soon enough to prevent Amber from doing more damage with the gun. He didn't remember moving, but felt as if he was standing outside of his body as he kicked out, knocking the gun out of her hand and crashing into the wall.

Cheryl and the other officers reached them then, wrestling with Amber as she let out an infuriated cry of frustration. It all faded into insignificance as his eyes locked on the large and growing red stain on the midriff area of Amber's once white nurse's uniform.

He called for help from the still-frozen nursing staff as he rushed to Steve's side, levering him away from the kicking and screaming mad woman who was being taken into custody. Steve remained unconscious as copious amounts of blood continue to trail from the wounds at the back of his head.

-- --

Mark found himself once again sitting at Steve's bedside. He had remained in or near that same position through sutures, X-ray and all of the other tests that had been done after the latest incident with Amber. And though he knew for a certainty that she was behind bars on suicide watch, he had no intention of leaving.

Cheryl had been very good in informing him that the keys had been found in Amber's car, and that bottles containing traces of the drugs that she had used to poison Steve and Jonathan Bright had been found in a box in her closet. Despite knowing those things, and knowing that there would be no bail for Amber, he just couldn't let his guard down yet.

He wanted to stay there and watch over his son a little longer. Just until that knot of fear deep in the pit of his stomach went away. He knew it was irrational, but there was nothing he could do about it. From harsh experience, he knew that it wouldn't go away until the moment he looked into Steve's eyes, saw the recognition and heard him call his name.

He looked up as Jesse and Amanda walked into the room, drawing him out of his thoughts.

"How's he doing?" Mark asked them, for once not talking about Steve. When Cheryl had been unable to reach either himself or Steve earlier, she'd paged Amanda who had contacted Jesse about Bright and had tried to contact Mark to warn him.

"He's pretty weak," Jesse answered. "Especially with all of the other problems he has going on right now. But I'd say he's going to pull through."

"Good." Mark smiled a little. "I'd hate to think that she won in even the smallest way."

"Us, too," Amanda agreed, her voice full of sympathy. "What about Steve? Has he regained consciousness?"

"Yes. Very briefly a little while ago. But he didn't completely surface." Mark remembered the groggy half-moan and not-quite-open eyes before Steve had lapsed back into sleep.

"He does have a rather nasty concussion to add to the list," Jesse agreed. "Rest is the best thing for him right now."

"But he's going to be all right," Amanda added.

"He is going to be all right." Mark nodded, and looked at Steve. Amanda and Jesse did likewise. He felt certain that in their own way each of them was giving silent thanks that he was still with them. He swallowed away the tightness in his throat as he reached for the warm hand that lay at the side of the bed, enjoying the physical reminder that his son lived as well as the visual.

-- --

"Madame foreperson have you reached a verdict?"

"We have your honor."

Steve remembered those same words having been uttered months prior, during Amber's first trial. Back then most of the evidence against her had been circumstantial and no one was certain what the outcome would be. This time, there had been a lot of hard evidence against her, as well as the eye witness testimony of everyone on the ward the day she'd come in with the gun.

He did not feel any anxiety as to what the verdict might be. If he was forced to pin a name to the feelings and emotions that swept through him at that moment, he would have to go with relief. Relief that in just a few seconds the events that had been set in motion in that same courtroom months before would come to a conclusive end.

"On the first count of the attempted murder of police Lt. Steven Sloan, how do you find?" Asked the judge.

Steve didn't even look in the direction of the foreperson. He simply waited.

The words came. "We the jury find the defendant, Amber McPherson, guilty."

Steve still didn't look up, simply allowing the verdict to wash over him.

"And on the second count of the attempted murder of Mr. Jonathan Bright of Los Angeles County, how do you find?"

"We the jury find the defendant, Amber McPherson, guilty."

That was it. It was over. Truly over.

Steve drew in a deep cleansing breath and blew it out before looking toward his father who was sitting beside him. The judges closing words faded to the background as his father patted him on the shoulder and offered a reassuring smile.

The judges gavel sounded and they rose from their seats. Jesse and Amanda were with them. As they headed toward the back of the court room, Mark gestured toward a mural on the wall of a woman dressed in robes carrying scales. Her eyes were covered with a blindfold.

"We may not be able to try her again for the murders of Drs Bettinger and Paul, but the penalties of attempted murder of a police officer are stiff. I'd say in the end justice will be served."

Steve nodded his agreement. "And speaking of being served. How about a nice meal at Florentine's. Jess is looking a little hungry."

The End.

Jesse's Breakfast Burrito Recipe

Flour Tortillas

Seasoned taco meat filling

Scrambled eggs

Diced Bell Peppers

Diced Tomatoes

Shredded cheese (Sharp cheddar and/or Monterey Jack)

Optional: BBQ Bob's smoky barbecue sauce ™

Mix meat, eggs and veggies and fold in warm flour tortillas with cheese. Garnish with your favorite burrito condiments or additional BBQ sauce. Enjoy. . . or not!