"Bosco!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, struggling to get free
of the grip the man had on her, even from her kneeling position on the
bridge. Why were there no people on the bridge? Where was everyone?
The other three men walked over, the largest wiping his hands together after peering over the railing and smiling. He looked to be in charge, and the other two stayed behind him as if afraid to overtake.
He stopped in front of Faith, and looked down on her with deep dark eyes that threatened to swallow her whole. His smile fell, and his face became hard and frightening.
With her arms gripped tightly, she was unable to prevent him from reaching down and relieving her of her gun and radio, watching as he tossed them over the railing after her partner.
She blinked back the tears at the memory of watching him fall, remembering the terrified look on his face as realisation of his fate had set in.
He'll be alright, she told herself sternly, he's been through a lot. He's fine. She just wished she could run over and look for herself. She desperately wanted to see if he was okay.
Without warning, one of the large hands reached down and twisted through her hair, pulling her up. She had no choice but to follow him as he walked.
* * *
He broke the surface coughing violently, thrashing about for a moment before taking a deep breath, and reminding himself to keep treading water. He gasped in air as he bobbed on the surface for a moment, finding himself just a little way down the river from where he had been thrown over the bridge railing. The bridge itself was still in sight.
Fighting to keep his head above water, chilled to the bone, he called out as loud as he could muster, "Faith!" After a moment with no response, he took a deep breath, and yelled again, louder this time, "Faith!"
Maybe she can't hear me, he mused hopefully.
He shivered for a moment, turning his head when he heard movement at the side of the river on the Manhattan edge.
"Hey, mister! Are you okay? You need help?"
It was a kid, about eleven years old, peering out at him with a scruffy dog by his side, a ball in his hands. He was wrapped up tight with scarf, hat and gloves, and looked pretty decent for a New York kid, considering what was on offer lately.
"Mister? You want me to call the cops or something?"
"I am a cop!" Bosco called back, his voice catching briefly. He went to use his radio when he realised it would be useless, and shouted again, "Get help, kid!"
The kid nodded in agreement, and scurried off, the dog staying a moment to sound a single solitary bark that echoed for a few seconds. It ran off, tail wagging, after its young owner.
"Dammit, this is cold," Bosco mumbled, and felt his teeth chatter, his legs becoming tired and fast. He was having a little trouble keeping his head above water.
The kid was soon back, ball no longer in his hands, dog still at his side, and he shouted to Bosco, "I called 911. They're coming."
Bosco managed a nod, and kept fighting to keep above the water, taking in deep breaths and watching them escape in clouds of steam. Sirens started to approach. At least the kid had actually gotten their attention.
Within a matter of minutes, even through a slight haze, Bosco recognised the flashing lights of an ambulance and a squad car.
There were a few quiet words at the side that Bosco couldn't pick out, shortly before a man ran to the side, and peered over.
"Bosco, is that you?" they called loudly.
Bosco turned his head, and saw Sully looking down at him from the side. He began trying to propel himself in that direction.
Davis, Bobby and Kim soon arrived at the riverside, looking down at him, before there was a splash. One of them had jumped in. Another splash followed soon after.
Lacking the energy to keep fighting, Bosco felt his head go under, shortly before the disturbance of water reached him, and two hands grabbed hold of him, tugging him to the surface once again.
"Come on, Bosco, I thought you knew how to swim," quipped a familiar voice, and Bosco registered it after a moment.
"Bobby?"
"That's right," he replied in acknowledgment, "just keep treading water, okay?"
Bosco managed a nod, at the same time that the second figure arrived. It was Davis.
Another vehicle arrived, and Bosco could make out the familiar shape of a fire truck. People started to pour out of it, and one of the men ran to the river's edge. Was that Jimmy?
They reached the edge, Davis and Bobby pulling Bosco along for the latter's lack of energy, and managed to get him out of the water and onto the riverside. Kim tried to get him to lie down, but he insisted on sitting up.
He shook constantly from the cold, and closed his eyes tight, shaking his head, feeling the moisture in his hair, just as a thick blanket was wrapped tightly but comfortably around him, warming him slightly.
"Bosco, what happened?" Sully asked as he moved over, keeping a little way back so the paramedics could work.
Bosco ignored his question for the most part, too cold to care, and managed to say, "Faith... where's Faith?"
Sully glanced to Davis, the two sharing a blank inquiring look, before the former turned back, and asked, "You don't know where she is?"
As Kim slipped an oxygen mask over his face, he shook his head, taking in deep breaths, and staring right into Sully's eyes. From the expression on the older man's face, he recognised the silent request to look, and quickly asked if they had been on the bridge.
Bosco nodded slowly in agreement, and watched the partners rush off.
* * *
Sully drew the squad to a halt, and climbed out, hand hovering near his gun instinctively. He looked around cautiously, seeing the hurriedly parked replacement squad that Bosco and Yokas had been given... but no sign of the actual female officer herself. Sully walked over to the edge of the bridge, and peered over the rail.
That's quite a way to fall, Sully mused, before forcing his concentration back on the job at hand. He was amazed Bosco had remained conscious through the ordeal, but if anyone could withstand being throw -or what Sully assumed was thrown- off a bridge, it was Boscorelli.
"You see anything?" Davis asked from a distance, scouting out the area on the other side of the bridge in case the woman had been thrown off in another place... if she had been thrown off at all that was. They were just assuming. They had no idea what had happened. Bosco was the only one who knew that, but they needed to let him recover a little first.
"Not a thing." Sully shrugged, glancing about. "When I saw Bosco down there, he hadn't even removed his gun."
"Weird," Davis mumbled on the verge of audible.
"You're telling me," Sully agreed.
"Well, we need to ask him what happened."
Sully nodded. He had a bad feeling. Someone was out to get cops, and from what Yokas and Bosco had told him earlier, they had been the final targets.
* * *
The woman turned at the sound of the door being opened, and smiled when two men walked in, a third figure between them. She bit her lip happily, and turned fully to the door to face her guests.
The third member of the party stood between the two large men, her hands bound roughly behind her back, tape over her mouth. It looked as though they had been less than gentle with her upon retrieval... but that bothered her very little.
She reached up a hand, and tucked a strand of rebellious hair away, watching as the woman flinched slightly.
"It's so nice to see you again, Officer Yokas," she greeted quietly, her words dripping with venom, her eyes locking with the police officer's for a moment. Then she glanced to the large man holding Yokas, and cocked her head, raising an eyebrow.
For a while, there was silence, and the smile fell from the woman's face. She backhanded the man hard, and saw his grip fall from the officer. The other man grabbed her tightly, preventing her escape.
"I told you I wanted them both," she growled, infuriated.
The man looked to her only briefly, eyes darting away immediately. "I'm sorry, Amanda. He put up a fight."
Amanda Olmos stepped back, and shook her head. "You didn't..."
"I... I don't think he's dead," the man rambled quickly, shaking his head.
"Warren," Amanda began in a low hiss of a voice, "if he's dead..."
"I promise you he's not dead," Warren interrupted, standing to his full height.
Amanda narrowed her eyes in doubt for a moment, looking briefly to Yokas again, seeing the fear in the woman's eyes, and smiling. The smile fell almost at once. "So, what happened? Why didn't you bring him too?"
Warren cleared his throat as though he were about to give a speech. Amanda desperately hoped he wasn't going to make this more complicated than it needed to be. She got bored so easily nowadays. She just wanted to know what had happened in its simplest form... which seemed to be too much for Warren to handle sometimes.
"Well, when we sprung them, Boscorelli put up one hell of a fight, and I... I guess I just lost my temper."
Amanda groaned, rubbed her eyes, and waved a hand impatiently for him to continue.
"I... I threw him off the bridge."
The words took a moment to settle in, but when they did, Amanda's eyes narrowed, and she glared coldly. "You did what?"
Warren repeated his last statement without stammering like an idiot, only angering Amanda more. She moved to grab the gun sitting on the dresser, paused, and decided that wasting another 'flunky' wasn't exactly the smartest option. Why punish Warren when she had a perfectly good police officer to take her anger out on?
Amanda smiled, seeing Warren's shocked expression, and then noticing he relaxed.
"Go on," she said to him and the other, Ian, "get out of here. I'll figure out how to get Boscorelli here by myself. I'll call you if I need you."
After a moment, and a warning stare from Amanda, Warren and Ian scurried away like spooked rats, leaving her with Yokas, who stood before her, a little frightened.
Amanda moved over, and gave the woman a smile, tearing the tape off her mouth, seeing her wince.
They locked eyes, and the hatred was almost mutual. It surprised Amanda somewhat. What right did this woman have to hate her? Amanda was the victim in all this... a mother deprived of her three most beloved treasures... her children. She had no right.
She slapped her, already feeling a little of the overwhelming pain lift from herself. Yokas kept her head turned away for a moment, before she looked back and said, "I know why you're doing this."
"Then you know what's going to happen to you," Amanda said in warning, narrowing her eyes.
"It doesn't make it right."
Amanda pushed her up against the wall, stepping away again afterwards. "You don't know what it's like... to lose a child, let alone three! You robbed me of my family, you and your partner!"
Yokas leaned back against the wall in silence, as if stunned, before she said, "They killed people."
"What gives you the right to play god?" Amanda accused, feeling her anger swell, and having to hold back the urge to tear the other woman apart. No, she wanted to wait. She had something much more fitting in mind.
"I don't play god," Yokas retorted, "I do my job. And on that particular day, my job happened to include putting a stop to shooters... three of which were your sons... and I'm sorry they had to die, but I didn't have a choice."
Amanda walked slowly over to her dresser, brushed her fingers delicately over the gun laid there, and then picked up the family photo again, the one which she had wiped free of dust the previous day. It was her favourite. She remembered the day now... one summer in Florida... they had taken a weekend there.
"I bet you don't even remember his name... the one you killed... do you?" Her eyes turned back on Yokas, and the gaze bore right into her.
The other woman didn't respond, just looked at Amanda.
Amanda walked over quickly, and put the photo near to her, re-asking her question, "Do you remember which one it was that you shot? Do you?" The last demand came out a scream, enough to make the officer start slightly.
"No."
Amanda tilted her head at the response, and mumbled, "I didn't think so." She caressed the photo again, cherishing the memory of that day... that perfect day. "Ricardo... my second child."
The eyes turned back to Yokas, and they narrowed with almost overwhelming sadness and anger as she said, "Your partner... Boscorelli... killed the other two. Aidan, my eldest... and Kieran... he was my baby."
She thought for a moment that she saw tears in Yokas' eyes, and she put the photo down, grabbing hold of the woman's uniform collar, and pulling on it tight, exclaiming, "You don't get to cry for them! I do... I cry for them every day. You don't get to feel sorry for me... no... don't you dare..."
The other three men walked over, the largest wiping his hands together after peering over the railing and smiling. He looked to be in charge, and the other two stayed behind him as if afraid to overtake.
He stopped in front of Faith, and looked down on her with deep dark eyes that threatened to swallow her whole. His smile fell, and his face became hard and frightening.
With her arms gripped tightly, she was unable to prevent him from reaching down and relieving her of her gun and radio, watching as he tossed them over the railing after her partner.
She blinked back the tears at the memory of watching him fall, remembering the terrified look on his face as realisation of his fate had set in.
He'll be alright, she told herself sternly, he's been through a lot. He's fine. She just wished she could run over and look for herself. She desperately wanted to see if he was okay.
Without warning, one of the large hands reached down and twisted through her hair, pulling her up. She had no choice but to follow him as he walked.
* * *
He broke the surface coughing violently, thrashing about for a moment before taking a deep breath, and reminding himself to keep treading water. He gasped in air as he bobbed on the surface for a moment, finding himself just a little way down the river from where he had been thrown over the bridge railing. The bridge itself was still in sight.
Fighting to keep his head above water, chilled to the bone, he called out as loud as he could muster, "Faith!" After a moment with no response, he took a deep breath, and yelled again, louder this time, "Faith!"
Maybe she can't hear me, he mused hopefully.
He shivered for a moment, turning his head when he heard movement at the side of the river on the Manhattan edge.
"Hey, mister! Are you okay? You need help?"
It was a kid, about eleven years old, peering out at him with a scruffy dog by his side, a ball in his hands. He was wrapped up tight with scarf, hat and gloves, and looked pretty decent for a New York kid, considering what was on offer lately.
"Mister? You want me to call the cops or something?"
"I am a cop!" Bosco called back, his voice catching briefly. He went to use his radio when he realised it would be useless, and shouted again, "Get help, kid!"
The kid nodded in agreement, and scurried off, the dog staying a moment to sound a single solitary bark that echoed for a few seconds. It ran off, tail wagging, after its young owner.
"Dammit, this is cold," Bosco mumbled, and felt his teeth chatter, his legs becoming tired and fast. He was having a little trouble keeping his head above water.
The kid was soon back, ball no longer in his hands, dog still at his side, and he shouted to Bosco, "I called 911. They're coming."
Bosco managed a nod, and kept fighting to keep above the water, taking in deep breaths and watching them escape in clouds of steam. Sirens started to approach. At least the kid had actually gotten their attention.
Within a matter of minutes, even through a slight haze, Bosco recognised the flashing lights of an ambulance and a squad car.
There were a few quiet words at the side that Bosco couldn't pick out, shortly before a man ran to the side, and peered over.
"Bosco, is that you?" they called loudly.
Bosco turned his head, and saw Sully looking down at him from the side. He began trying to propel himself in that direction.
Davis, Bobby and Kim soon arrived at the riverside, looking down at him, before there was a splash. One of them had jumped in. Another splash followed soon after.
Lacking the energy to keep fighting, Bosco felt his head go under, shortly before the disturbance of water reached him, and two hands grabbed hold of him, tugging him to the surface once again.
"Come on, Bosco, I thought you knew how to swim," quipped a familiar voice, and Bosco registered it after a moment.
"Bobby?"
"That's right," he replied in acknowledgment, "just keep treading water, okay?"
Bosco managed a nod, at the same time that the second figure arrived. It was Davis.
Another vehicle arrived, and Bosco could make out the familiar shape of a fire truck. People started to pour out of it, and one of the men ran to the river's edge. Was that Jimmy?
They reached the edge, Davis and Bobby pulling Bosco along for the latter's lack of energy, and managed to get him out of the water and onto the riverside. Kim tried to get him to lie down, but he insisted on sitting up.
He shook constantly from the cold, and closed his eyes tight, shaking his head, feeling the moisture in his hair, just as a thick blanket was wrapped tightly but comfortably around him, warming him slightly.
"Bosco, what happened?" Sully asked as he moved over, keeping a little way back so the paramedics could work.
Bosco ignored his question for the most part, too cold to care, and managed to say, "Faith... where's Faith?"
Sully glanced to Davis, the two sharing a blank inquiring look, before the former turned back, and asked, "You don't know where she is?"
As Kim slipped an oxygen mask over his face, he shook his head, taking in deep breaths, and staring right into Sully's eyes. From the expression on the older man's face, he recognised the silent request to look, and quickly asked if they had been on the bridge.
Bosco nodded slowly in agreement, and watched the partners rush off.
* * *
Sully drew the squad to a halt, and climbed out, hand hovering near his gun instinctively. He looked around cautiously, seeing the hurriedly parked replacement squad that Bosco and Yokas had been given... but no sign of the actual female officer herself. Sully walked over to the edge of the bridge, and peered over the rail.
That's quite a way to fall, Sully mused, before forcing his concentration back on the job at hand. He was amazed Bosco had remained conscious through the ordeal, but if anyone could withstand being throw -or what Sully assumed was thrown- off a bridge, it was Boscorelli.
"You see anything?" Davis asked from a distance, scouting out the area on the other side of the bridge in case the woman had been thrown off in another place... if she had been thrown off at all that was. They were just assuming. They had no idea what had happened. Bosco was the only one who knew that, but they needed to let him recover a little first.
"Not a thing." Sully shrugged, glancing about. "When I saw Bosco down there, he hadn't even removed his gun."
"Weird," Davis mumbled on the verge of audible.
"You're telling me," Sully agreed.
"Well, we need to ask him what happened."
Sully nodded. He had a bad feeling. Someone was out to get cops, and from what Yokas and Bosco had told him earlier, they had been the final targets.
* * *
The woman turned at the sound of the door being opened, and smiled when two men walked in, a third figure between them. She bit her lip happily, and turned fully to the door to face her guests.
The third member of the party stood between the two large men, her hands bound roughly behind her back, tape over her mouth. It looked as though they had been less than gentle with her upon retrieval... but that bothered her very little.
She reached up a hand, and tucked a strand of rebellious hair away, watching as the woman flinched slightly.
"It's so nice to see you again, Officer Yokas," she greeted quietly, her words dripping with venom, her eyes locking with the police officer's for a moment. Then she glanced to the large man holding Yokas, and cocked her head, raising an eyebrow.
For a while, there was silence, and the smile fell from the woman's face. She backhanded the man hard, and saw his grip fall from the officer. The other man grabbed her tightly, preventing her escape.
"I told you I wanted them both," she growled, infuriated.
The man looked to her only briefly, eyes darting away immediately. "I'm sorry, Amanda. He put up a fight."
Amanda Olmos stepped back, and shook her head. "You didn't..."
"I... I don't think he's dead," the man rambled quickly, shaking his head.
"Warren," Amanda began in a low hiss of a voice, "if he's dead..."
"I promise you he's not dead," Warren interrupted, standing to his full height.
Amanda narrowed her eyes in doubt for a moment, looking briefly to Yokas again, seeing the fear in the woman's eyes, and smiling. The smile fell almost at once. "So, what happened? Why didn't you bring him too?"
Warren cleared his throat as though he were about to give a speech. Amanda desperately hoped he wasn't going to make this more complicated than it needed to be. She got bored so easily nowadays. She just wanted to know what had happened in its simplest form... which seemed to be too much for Warren to handle sometimes.
"Well, when we sprung them, Boscorelli put up one hell of a fight, and I... I guess I just lost my temper."
Amanda groaned, rubbed her eyes, and waved a hand impatiently for him to continue.
"I... I threw him off the bridge."
The words took a moment to settle in, but when they did, Amanda's eyes narrowed, and she glared coldly. "You did what?"
Warren repeated his last statement without stammering like an idiot, only angering Amanda more. She moved to grab the gun sitting on the dresser, paused, and decided that wasting another 'flunky' wasn't exactly the smartest option. Why punish Warren when she had a perfectly good police officer to take her anger out on?
Amanda smiled, seeing Warren's shocked expression, and then noticing he relaxed.
"Go on," she said to him and the other, Ian, "get out of here. I'll figure out how to get Boscorelli here by myself. I'll call you if I need you."
After a moment, and a warning stare from Amanda, Warren and Ian scurried away like spooked rats, leaving her with Yokas, who stood before her, a little frightened.
Amanda moved over, and gave the woman a smile, tearing the tape off her mouth, seeing her wince.
They locked eyes, and the hatred was almost mutual. It surprised Amanda somewhat. What right did this woman have to hate her? Amanda was the victim in all this... a mother deprived of her three most beloved treasures... her children. She had no right.
She slapped her, already feeling a little of the overwhelming pain lift from herself. Yokas kept her head turned away for a moment, before she looked back and said, "I know why you're doing this."
"Then you know what's going to happen to you," Amanda said in warning, narrowing her eyes.
"It doesn't make it right."
Amanda pushed her up against the wall, stepping away again afterwards. "You don't know what it's like... to lose a child, let alone three! You robbed me of my family, you and your partner!"
Yokas leaned back against the wall in silence, as if stunned, before she said, "They killed people."
"What gives you the right to play god?" Amanda accused, feeling her anger swell, and having to hold back the urge to tear the other woman apart. No, she wanted to wait. She had something much more fitting in mind.
"I don't play god," Yokas retorted, "I do my job. And on that particular day, my job happened to include putting a stop to shooters... three of which were your sons... and I'm sorry they had to die, but I didn't have a choice."
Amanda walked slowly over to her dresser, brushed her fingers delicately over the gun laid there, and then picked up the family photo again, the one which she had wiped free of dust the previous day. It was her favourite. She remembered the day now... one summer in Florida... they had taken a weekend there.
"I bet you don't even remember his name... the one you killed... do you?" Her eyes turned back on Yokas, and the gaze bore right into her.
The other woman didn't respond, just looked at Amanda.
Amanda walked over quickly, and put the photo near to her, re-asking her question, "Do you remember which one it was that you shot? Do you?" The last demand came out a scream, enough to make the officer start slightly.
"No."
Amanda tilted her head at the response, and mumbled, "I didn't think so." She caressed the photo again, cherishing the memory of that day... that perfect day. "Ricardo... my second child."
The eyes turned back to Yokas, and they narrowed with almost overwhelming sadness and anger as she said, "Your partner... Boscorelli... killed the other two. Aidan, my eldest... and Kieran... he was my baby."
She thought for a moment that she saw tears in Yokas' eyes, and she put the photo down, grabbing hold of the woman's uniform collar, and pulling on it tight, exclaiming, "You don't get to cry for them! I do... I cry for them every day. You don't get to feel sorry for me... no... don't you dare..."