A/N I love cliffhangers. This whole thing started as a cliffhanger running through my mind, something that I had actually come up with long long long time ago when the two characters involved were not Garret and Jordan but rather Remington Steele and Laura Holt, and it's been bugging me to write it as Garret and Jordan since I started writing CJ fanfic, and now it's finally reached it's manifestation. I am half tempted to say "no more" until I get a review on it though, but I'm not that mean. Or am I?
He got up gingerly, looking around him. "Look darling," He heard an unfamiliar voice call out. "We've got company. Now why don't both of you show yourselves?" The voice was calling from across the building. "Just come out my pretty and this will all be alright." He breathed a sigh of relief.
She was OK, the shot had missed. He snuck through the rows of shelves and boxes, looking for either her or whoever this loony was. He just hoped he would find her, and the two of them would get out of there, wait for the detectives to show up, and get this guy, whoever he was.
"It sounds like he's your night in shining armor, the way he called for you. Is that who he is? Is he the one that's here to save you? I've got a message for you, whoever you are, you won't. I've got her, she's mine, all mine. I can't let her go around convicting me of murder, so you can go and leave, and I can kill her, and no one will be none the wiser. A poor woman winds up dead in a shady factory, what was she doing down here anyway? Ah, they'll be so many unanswered questions, but no one will find out it's me."
Whoever this guy was, he was a psychopath. He just wanted to make sure that this loon wouldn't hurt Jordan. That was his only thought, getting her out of there unharmed. He was thankful the first pair of shoes near the door had been his sneakers, at least they were quieter than his usual pair. He searched through the racks for the familiar head of chestnut hair, hoping he would find her before the madman would.
He was so concerned with looking for her, he didn't notice when she backed into him. He stifled a yelp when he saw her thankful that she was unharmed. "Get out of here." he told her and she shook her head.
"He's covering the exit." He frowned.
"I'll distract him, you leave." She shook her head.
"I'm not going to leave without you." He glared at her.
"How many times have I been in a similar spot?"
"Too many." She smiled. Every time she did something like this, he knew that his heart stopped until she came out of it OK. She had put herself into so many dangerous positions before, been faced with guns at her head so many times, and every time he was scared stiff. They heard footsteps approaching. "Run." he told her, and she looked back at him, but he glared at her and she disappeared down one aisle and he walked down to the next intersection.
He tried to put as much distance between himself and Jordan as possible. "Don't think I didn't hear you two. I think its sweet that your white knight wants you to get out of here alive, but it's not going to happen. If I have to kill both of you, what does it matter? If they find out I killed Bill I'd be serving life anyway, so what do another two sentences matter? Although I'd like to end this with as little bloodshed as possible." The words sent shivers down his spine.
Remorseless killers scared him most of all. The ones who already saw their end and knew it was not good so they decided to take everyone down with them. They didn't care, they could not be talked out of what they did, and that scared him, they were people that couldn't be reasoned with. Emotional killers, those in crimes of passion, they could be stopped, talked out of doing what they did, but men like this one, they weren't going to give up.
He turned another corner to find himself staring down the barrel of a gun. "Hello, you must be her white knight." The man looked vaguely familiar. Very much like Slokum, but different. It took him a minute to realize what exactly this man was.
"Slokum's covering for you." He pointed out and the man gave a shrill laugh, an unnatural laugh as he jammed the gun into his back, forcing him to walk.
"Jack? He's an idiot, I don't know how he got to where he did. He only cares about himself and his job, but yet he was willing to cover for me. I told him it didn't matter, that no one would find out, but he was convinced that the beautiful Dr. Cavanuagh would find out. So when he called me out a random fit of brotherly love saying she had suspected something, I knew I had to kill her." they had reached a clearing in the middle of the warehouse. "Now, drop to your knees, hands on your head, just like that." He obliged, trying to not get himself shot.
He wouldn't be any help to her dead, he knew that, he couldn't get her out of there, play the white knight as this guy had dubbed him, if he was dead. "Now, Dr. Cavanaugh, come on out. Olly olly oxen free and all that good stuff. Show yourself."
"Jordan! Just leave!" He shouted into the emptiness and again he heard a shrill laugh.
"No, Dr. Cavanaugh, don't. If you don't come out in the next two minutes your white knight will become very much a red one." He had long ago felt his stomach drop away, and the urge to vomit had long since passed, right now he was running on pure fear.
It wasn't the best feeling for someone who had come in to play the hero, to be her knight in shining armor, to feel completely and utterly afraid for his life, and for hers. But hers mattered more to him, she was still young, she still had a life to live, she still had a chance at love even if Woody didn't want her. He doubted the detective would be doing what he was doing anyway if he was here. "Jordan, just run. I've already called for Framus or Santana to come, just leave."
He felt a new wave of fear as the gun rang out it's sharp report and he felt the bullet go wide. "Next shot will be your head, White Knight." The man walked behind him, pressing the gun barrel to the back of his neck and he fought back a yelp as the burning hot metal pressed against him. "Now c'mon Dr. Cavanaugh, are you selfish enough to let this man die because you were foolish enough to come here?"
He fought back a groan as she appeared from around a corner, hands raised. "I told you run." He told her and he could see the determination in her eyes.
"And I said not without you. I'm supposed to be the foolish one that puts her life on the line, not you." He glared at her, and the gunman laughed.
"How sweet. But I'm afraid I'll have to kill you both now though. But this could be oh so entertaining. First off, down on your knees please, Dr. Cavanaugh, just like your White Knight here." She mimicked his pose, kneeling down with her hands interlaced behind her head. "Now, who should I kill first?"
For the first time he could see the fear in her eyes. He wanted to reach out, to comfort her, to tell her things were going to be alright, but he couldn't. He remembered the time that they had been trapped in the building with the mad bomber. He was one that had gone off the deep end with a crime of passion. He could be reasoned with. And she hadn't been there, she had been safe.
He had no qualms about putting his life on the line. He would do it for anyone at the mourge, but especially her. He would sacrifice everything for her, and she would never know quite how much he would give up for her. And it was so much the better. The less she knew the less she could hurt him. The closest he had come was when he had almost been blown to bits, the words were there, he was going to say them, but she had cut him off. Had she been afraid to hear them, or did she already know?
The gun barrel was finally removed from his neck and he knew it had burned a mark, but it was just another scar, it wouldn't matter much once he was dead. No, he had to stop thinking that way, they needed to get out of there, she needed to get out of there, whether or not he did as well didn't matter, so long as she got out of there. But he didn't want to do anything crazy, do something that would cause him to shoot her instead of him.
"I want to shoot you first Dr. Cavanaugh, but I had planned to do this with as little suffering as possible, and I don't know if your White Knight could take it, seeing you die. Could you?" He felt the strong, crazy dark eyes boring into him and he nodded.
"Am I right, or what, say it. Say you can't stand to see her die in front of you, you know you want to." The man had a manic edge to his voice. Was he just imagining things or did he hear sirens in the distance? "Say it, or I shoot her now."
"I couldn't, I can't, stand to see her die." He said, his voice sounding raw with fear, it wasn't his own voice, it sounded strange and foreign, the whole world felt strange and foreign the, only thing that in his mind was nagging voice of self preservation and the voice drowning that one out telling him to save her.
"Good thing you're kneeling then." The gunman pulled the trigger and he felt his heart drop out from underneath him, his whole world rock as the sound echoed throughout the cold stone walls.