CHAPTER NINE: CHEAP SHOTS
Alex had to admit: Natalie had made a compelling argument. Dylan was currently out there – using everything she knew they knew about her and themselves in order to keep them from finding her.
That meant that she was playing on their predictability – just like, Natalie argued, they were playing on hers.
Of course – the whole big mind job depended on that very idea that Dylan was, more or less, predictable.
Alex never thought that was the case. If yesterday's events didn't more than destroy that theory, the fact that Dylan had managed to hide her real name, her identity, and her past from her best friends for the better part of eight years certainly gave it less credence.
As a result, despite Natalie's assurances that Dylan would eventually find herself back to the Thin Man's lair ('It's completely Dylan!' Natalie said. 'She would never think we'd go back there!'), Alex wasn't at all surprised when she pushed open the door carefully and found only the windblown remnants of an apartment torn apart by a brawl.
"I didn't think we were this messy," she commented, hand on the doorknob as Natalie walked in around her, face falling in lost hope as her heels made hollow clicks on the wooden floor.
"Maybe we should have tried the bungalow," Natalie said, fingering the bedspread carefully.
Alex considered, and slowly shook her head no. "Even if she did manage to sneak her way in past the guards and valets we tipped off-"
"-and she could," Natalie noted.
"-she would have used the time that we told Charlie and regrouped to get over there." Raising her wrist to eyelevel, Alex noted the ticks of her clock. "She'd be long gone by now."
"She double-guessed us," Natalie whispered, lost between a sad laugh, and a choked chortle.
Alex swallowed hard, ignoring the emerging lump in her throat before closing the door behind her. "We might as well look around," Alex said. "There has to be something here that can tie him to the murders."
"Sure," Natalie agreed, obediently settling down on her haunches and raising the bedspread.
Alex didn't move, gaze roving over the room of the murderer who had stolen her best friend from her. In truth, Alex didn't hate much. She never really wasted the time. There was too much to experience without hate clouding everything inside of you. As the product of a mixed marriage, Alex had one or two experiences with racism, to her the ugliest form of it.
And yet, even when coolly remembering the hurt that came with it, Alex still could honestly say she was dangerously close to hating the Thin Man.
She didn't like him. She didn't understand him. He had almost stolen Jason and now, he had turned Dylan against them.
"So... any thoughts on how Mary Briggs managed to find out about Dylan almost before we told Charlie?" Natalie said, voice muffled as she stretched under the bed.
Alex slowly shook her head no, stepping forward deliberately, eyes now on the closet.
"No," she answered. "But I'm going to find out. I'll check the tapes later, see who Mary's been talking to."
Natalie shoved the mattress off the frame, pausing a moment to wipe the bangs off her forehead. "This is really bad, Alex," she said matter-of-factly. "If we don't find them, then Dylan could eventually be charged with hiding a felon-"
"Or worse, an accomplice," Alex added grimly. Her eyes locked onto something in the darkness of the closet, and without preamble she pulled out a pair of Doc Martins. Natalie's eyes flashed at the sight. With a sigh, Alex dropped them on the floor, the soles hitting the wood with a loud thump. "Why do I feel like this is the end of the Angels?"
"We've been through tougher things," Natalie said, giving up on the mattress in favor of the dresser.
"Yes. We. As in three of us."
Natalie froze, hand in currently immersed in a drawer full of clean white socks. Her glance was filtered with sadness.
"I know," she answered.
The emotion was quickly starting to overwhelm. With a shuddering sigh, Alex moved back toward the closet, feeling carefully at its sides.
"Wait. Found something," Natalie called.
The blonde began sorting through a packet, spilling the contents on the unmade bed. Settling down beside her, Alex started pawing through.
Natalie's sky blue eyes darkened, frown forming on her lips as she began to hand what she held over.
"There. Me. You. Dylan-" One by one, Alex took the pictures as Natalie kept sorting. "Mary Briggs. Annabeth Torres, Jason-"
Jason smiled eagerly at her from his headshot. The fragile state of Alex's heart froze slowly, giving way to a blessed numbness that seemed much easier to bear than her previous turmoil.
"Still don't think he's our guy?" Alex said flatly.
Natalie took in a breath, damning evidence of the Thin Man's priorities in her fingertips.
"We have to find Dylan," she whispered shakily.
--
Dylan was certifiably insane.
She had to be. This was a really stupid, last ditch plan, and certainly not what she had in mind.
Anthony wasn't a big fan of it either. He skulked on his end of his car, staring at her like she was holding him captive, fingers gripping tight on the door handle.
Though that could have been from her driving.
"Please," she snapped when he shot his third indignant look at her hard right. "You once played chicken on a bridge with Natalie in a race car. And," she added with a mischievous smirk. "If I remember correctly, you lost."
He snorted, and only gripped all the harder.
Just another turn, and she was there.
The building that housed the lab wasn't as elaborately decorated as the home office. Charlie had decided that for the science they sometimes employed, simple was classier.
Still, it housed an elaborate forensics and ballistics laboratory that rivaled Quantico, and Dylan would find nothing better.
"Okay... this is what I've decided. You're no help at all. So new game plan." She pushed the gear shift into park, unbuckling her seat belt as she spoke. "It's obvious that if we're going to get 'Death', and thank you for that, it was ever-so-helpful."
He narrowed his eyes at her, jawline clamping.
He had stopped talking to her when he realized he wasn't going to get a lock of hair.
Dylan didn't mind. It wasn't like it made much difference.
"SO – first we're going to clear you. THEN we're going to get in touch with Nat and Alex, hope they don't kill you – and me," she added, "And work together to find Mr. Killer."
He wasn't a fan of the new game plan. His fingers twitched on the sword, bringing it closer to him.
"Look," she snapped. "If you hadn't been all murder-y and insane the first time we met, maybe they would have given you a chance. This is your fault."
If he were anymore angry, he would have stuck his tongue out at her.
"Stop sulking and get out of the car," she snapped.
He didn't move.
Dylan reached over, clicking open the seatbelt. "Let's go. NOW," she added for emphasis.
She had to admit – it was almost gratifying to see him grudgingly push open the door, staring at her as if he was imagining a hundred different ways to wipe the smirk off her face.
The Thin Man was a killer, and she never forgot what he was, but it was weird, to take his hand in hers, leading him like a lost child to the doorway, and fumbling with the keys.
"Retinal scanner," she explained. "And fingerprints. Let's hope they haven't locked me out."
Luck was certainly on her side. The doors opened on the first time, and with a smile, Dylan let herself in.
As the Thin Man walked in warily behind her, Dylan moved into the first room.
"Ballistics," she explained, motioned for him to close the door behind him as he entered. Dressed in a trademark suit and tie she had procured from a store along the way, he stood ramrod straight, carefully marking everything in the room with a cold stare.
Fleetingly, she wondered if he had a snapshot memory.
If they were ever enemies again, Dylan would be in trouble.
The moment of doubt made her tremor slightly, the precious lab and everything it meant to the Angels and Charlie made her waver.
But she had already let him in, there was nothing to do now but go forward.
Taking in a shaky breath, she pulled on a pair of plastic gloves, reaching for a hardened lump of clay.
"This is an imprint of the bullet that was in Annabelle," she explained. "I'm going to create a mold of it, and then compare it to..." she lingered, pawing through a file sorter, until she found what she was looking for."This," she finished. His eyes narrowed, focusing on the small bullet she was showing him. "Look familiar?" she asked.
He gave her a startled glance.
"It's a bullet I chinked out of the wall the first day we met. You know – with the shooting at us and pulling my hair? Good times." Dropping the bullet into a petri dish, she flicked on the computer. "I can test the abrasions, find out if both were fired from the same gun. If you're innocent," his gaze narrowed. "Then the result should be negative."
He gave her a slow jerk of a nod.
"Impressed yet?"
A long, elegant finger slowly slid along the counter, as the Thin Man finally began to explore.
Turning back to the computer, Dylan began to type quickly. "Alex and Natalie are better at this," she said, smile faltering. Her fingers rolled the bullet in her hands, gaze narrowing. "I mean, I'm good, but... they're actual doctors and everything. Alex is a certified genius." Unsure now if she was speaking to him, or simply rambling to herself, Dylan nevertheless kept going, tone going soft. "She's amazing. And Natalie's literally one IQ point away from being certified - and that was because she left the session early because she didn't want to miss the migration of the geese." Dylan smiled at the memory, picturing Natalie's ecstatic face as she told the story. "She's such a nut for animals. Was something like a nature mid-wife or something - would go all around the farms in her neighborhood delivering cows and stuff." Dylan's hand, suddenly shaking,
The bullet dropped with a clatter from her fingers, and broken from her haze, she scrambled to retrieve it, grabbed hold, putting it back on the dish.
The liquid steel, already set in the mold - presumably by Alex, was plucked out. A perfect cast.
"It's just..." Her vision was suddenly blurry, but Dylan dared not touch her eyes with the acrid plastic of the gloves. She blinked back the tears, voice going husky. "They're just so... extraordinary, and I'm ... I'm just... me. A high school dropout." Her eyes kept on the bullets, dropping the cast into the dish, and pushing it into the machine. "I don't know how I managed to stick with them for so long-"
Cool fingers sliding over her palm dried the words on her lips. With a startled gasp, Dylan discovered Anthony, clear, fervent gaze now solely directed on her, no more than six inches away.
For once, there was no glare on his face - nor was it like any other expression she had seen on his stone cold face.
His eyes seemed deeper than she had ever seen, and his hands, gentler than they had ever been.
Carefully, as if he were handling glass, his fingers wrapped around her wrist, pulling her to face him. With his free palm, he caressed her face, and mouth pursing, swiped at the lone tear that had managed to escape, drifting a lonely trail down her cheek.
Feeling the wetness between his fingertips, he stuck the digit in his mouth, tasting her salt. Breathless, Dylan's mouth dropped open, lips parting in scintillating anguish. Gaze drawn to it, Anthony delicately lay his wet finger on the bottom lush lip, rubbing the moisture gently.
She tasted her tears.
She had no idea what he was trying to tell her - there were no exact words, but his eyes, focused and predatory, seemed to have a life of his own.
Suddenly, she remembered a note, written in an elegant scrawl that had been handed to her earlier today.
You are extraordinary.
Almost unconsciously, her tongue darted out further, curling around his finger and just as quickly moving back in.
He remained perfectly still. His warmth enveloped her, and suddenly the click and whir of the machine, now deep in its testing, fell away until only the blood in her veins, pumping furiously into her heart, had even the slightest hope of being heard.
Knuckles caressing her chin, he closed the space between them, focused, intense gaze on her eyes, then her lips.
Shudders threatened to overtake her body, driven almost mad with anticipation, as his face came closer, ever closer still.
His breath was sinfully warm on her skin.
She kept her eyes open, even as her palm slid possessively against his hips, drawing him closer, even as his fingers tangled in their now familiar hold in her red tresses, she saw nothing but his lips, his eyes.
A sigh befell her when he moaned, low and feral. Her mouth opened, her head tilted, and there was the lightest brush - only the briefest caress of lips on lips-
-A slam ricocheted in the lab, and Dylan, ear drums shattered, and heart crashing in her chest, jerked her head to the doorway.
Charlie's Angels, minus one, stood in a fighting stance, staring at the scene, faces masked in disbelief.
"Dylan," Alex recovered first. "You should have known we would have tapped the laboratory."
Subtly pushing Anthony away from her, she stepped around him, fingers clamping to his hand. Once she was between him and her friends, she finally allowed herself to smile easily. "It's the best lab on the West Coast."
Only Natalie had no patience for the game. "Dylan, we need to talk."
Dylan swallowed hard. Anthony was openly frowning. His hand was tight on his cane, and the rigid posture behind her indicated he was ready for a fight.
From the look in Alex's eyes, so were they.
"I agree. We need to talk."
"I can't believe you brought him here," Alex whispered, eyes darting from the Thin Man to the lab. "God, Dylan!"
"Alex!" Natalie's voice was firm, pleading. Alex glanced back, and with effort, closed her mouth. Easing from her stance, Natalie's arms came down, wide and open. "Dylan, you have to listen-"
"Guys, I won't let you hurt him - I told you - I'm taking care of it. I just need the proof-"
"He's the GUY, Dylan!" Alex snapped. "It's not him getting hurt we're worried about!"
"Then if I'm with him - he can't hurt anyone else, can he?" Dylan answered, slow and enunciated. Her palms behind her, she kept the Thin Man still. Softly, she could hear him seethe - deep breaths in and out that pushed his chest against her back.
Natalie shook her head slowly, obviously lost for words.
Alex had her own. "Dylan, we have to hold him. You know that. It's nothing personal-"
"Oh, bullshit it's nothing personal, Alex," Dylan snapped. "It's totally personal, and you know it."
Alex swallowed, face going increasingly red - a visible sign she was struggling to keep her temper in check. "Let us take him," she said through gritted teeth, "And we'll HELP YOU."
Natalie tried one more time. "Dylan, we have proof!"
And then the world fell apart.
It began with a simple motion. Natalie reaching for her pocket, so quick and so fast it startled the wild man behind her.
The scream froze them all, battering her ear drums before Anthony flipped over her - sword out of its cane and swiping down at Natalie.
"NO!"
Alex kicked up, burying her heel into his stomach, diverting his flight to crash against the lab table in the right corner. Glasses and beakers shattered, and instinctively, Dylan shot forward.
Alex's fingers were just pulling on the Thin Man's wrist when Dylan's fist closed over them, twisting them out of the way. Immediately Alex jerked back, sending a punch with her first, another with her right. Dylan blocked them, slipping on broken glass as Alex's fast, powerful thrusts came at her.
The crash of a table overturning alerted her to another fight - one that had broken out between Natalie and Anthony.
Natalie was breathing easily, face screwed in concentration as she ducked and swirled, twisted and kicked, moving away from Anthony's sword.
"Anthony! No!" Dylan screeched, seconds before a powerful kick from Alex caught her offguard - directly in the temple, blinding her slightly.
"Dylan!" Alex's voice was stained, and it distracted the Thin Man.
Suddenly, Natalie had gone flying into another desk, and Alex was the Thin Man's newest target.
Dylan groaned, rubbing at her head as she pushed herself up onto one knee. Natalie was fitting a tranquilizer gun, unwatched by Anthony.
"Oh, shit," Dylan whispered.
Alex tripped, falling directly into Dylan's path. Anthony, face now murderous, screeched like a hyena, plunging home with a sword.
It hit nothing but tile.
Alex, breathing hard, had only seconds to process the fact that Dylan, shoving at her with her boots, had just saved her life by pushing her a feet away.
"You're welcome," Dylan ground at her friend, leaving her to her own devices when she launched at Natalie.
The gun was kicked away from Natalie's fingertips, and suddenly Dylan, the scrappy streetfighter, was engaged in a full out brawl with the fastest fighter she had ever come into contact with.
Natalie had long legs, her arms were muscled, lean, and her form - perfect. She had virtually no flaws that Dylan could remember, and suddenly, Dylan remembered all too well, her own.
"Dylan..." Natalie managed, slamming her elbow down to block Dylan's reverse ax kick, smashing into the top bones.
"Thank God for steel toe," Dylan muttered back.
Like a crack of a whip, Natalie's body twisted, a heel coming straight for her neck. Dylan blocked it, twisted under the leg to smash a fist into her ribs.
Natalie twisted - Dylan hit nothing but air.
The dance continued, and Dylan, now sweating profusely, jerked away for a precious second to find Alex sweeping a wire under the Thin Man, slamming onto his back. Without a word, Dylan scooped up a beaker with the arc of her foot, lobbying it up like a soccer ball and kicking it toward Alex's head.
Alex ducked immediately, allowing the Thin Man to get up.
"Damn, Dylan!" Alex snapped, before the Thin Man attacked.
"Sorry!" Dylan said back.
"I can't keep doing this," Natalie whispered. Dylan glanced questionably, and finally Natalie's expression shook her into stillness. The blonde stopped fighting, hands dropping to her sides, body slanted sideways. "I'm sorry, Dylan."
Dylan faltered. Her friend's blue eyes were moist, truly conflicted, and she looked like she was out of the spark that she had in her when it came to fighting.
Dylan should have known better.
"I'm sorry," Natalie said again.
Without a word, she twisted, and with a powerful sidekick, blasted her way into Dylan's ribs.
The pain that came from the shot was paralyzing.
Dylan crumpled to the floor, intense agony an explosion that emerged from her side.
The tears came, and Dylan could do nothing but hold her ribs, breathing in as hard and fast as she could as she tried to overcome it.
The deadly screech came, and someone cried out, and the fighting started all over again, this time without her.
Dylan sucked in her breath, huge gasping gulps, a random sob dripping tears down her cheek as she closed her eyes, cheek against the tile on the floor.
"Nat!"
The pain still flared, coming back and forth with her heartbeat. Slowly, Dylan managed to regain coherency.
What she saw nearly drove it back.
The fight had turned brutal, and with Dylan no longer there to stop the killing - both sides were very quickly going for lethal.
And the Thin Man - with no loyalties but her, had righteous anger on his face, as Alex slammed her foot in a roundhouse, and got thrown across the room for her trouble.
It had taken the three of them to take him down the first time.
He had taken a sword in his body and still survived.
And he was going at Natalie with every murderous impulse inside of him.
Oh, God...
She pushed to her feet. Her ribs screamed, and she gave a wordless cry in response. Biting her lip so hard she almost drew blood, she moved quickly, as fast as she could.
Natalie was good, but she was already tired from the fight with Dylan, and her heart was conflicted - not so angry.
She tripped, and there was a horrible second where Alex screamed, and the Thin Man lunged -
Dylan stepped in front of the sword.
It stopped millimeters from her skin.
The Thin Man was completely still, staring at her with wild, confused eyes.
Alex was breathless, frozen in her place, half up, half down.
Natalie, scrambling to her feet, held a gaze of pure astonishment.
It was shock - in a hurricane of emotions and accusations - Dylan had proved her loyalties with a simple move.
And the Thin Man had proven his.
Without a word, Dylan moved forward, stumbling slightly when her ribs protested, and he caught her, pulling her in close, moving back.
"Let's get out of here," she whispered.
The sword was still held to the other girls, but neither moved as Dylan half pushed, half stumbled with the Anthony toward the doorway.
One last look at her two best friends - she could think of nothing to say.
Their glazed expressions proved-
There was nothing she could say.
She slammed the door closed, leaving them inside.
End chapter