Chapter 8
McCall glanced back occasionally as she drove to her house. She was aware that she had a unit following her and she didn't want to lose them. She took comfort in their presence, but at the same time hated that she couldn't rely on herself for safety. Just thinking about how she'd been robbed of her sense of security set her blood boiling and she took several slow deep breaths in an effort to quiet the rage.
She pulled in her driveway and shut off the engine, casting another glance behind her. The police car pulled past her to park at the curb. Suddenly, seemingly from out of nowhere, a large pick-up truck rammed the patrol car dead-on. The impact caused a deafening crash and sent the car careening out of control and into her next-door neighbor's parked car, resulting in another horrific crash.
McCall sat staring, frozen, her mind unable to process the shock quickly enough. She caught sight of someone getting out of the truck, unbelievably and apparently unhurt and running towards her. Realizing the danger too late, she fumbled with her seatbelt, simultaneously reaching for her gun but she was out of time.
Her car door was wrenched open and a gun was pointed at her chest. Before she could utter a sound there was a muffled phft and then she felt a sharp stab of pain followed by a burning sensation that clouded her vision. She lost control of her muscles and slumped forward as her world went black.
Harrington quickly undid the seatbelt and scooped McCall up enough to roughly shove her into the passenger seat then settled himself behind the wheel. Neighbors were pouring out of the surrounding houses and the two police officers were stumbling from their wrecked car but all were too late. Harrington put the car in reverse and gunned the motor nearly hitting several people as the car shot backwards out of the driveway. Others were forced to scramble out of the way as he raced down the street and then he was gone.
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McCall regained consciousness slowly, feeling like she was drowning in an ocean of darkness and confusion. She struggled against the piercing headache and the nearly overwhelming nausea made worse when she realized that her arms and legs were in shackles and chains and a rag had been stuffed in her mouth and sealed with duct tape.
Using every ounce of mental fortitude she could muster, she forced herself to breathe slowly through her nose. In then out, over and over, desperate not to give in to the panic she sensed would be her undoing. She kept her eyes closed, unwilling to take in her surrounding until she could get a handle on what she assumed were the after effects of some kind of sedative that Harrington had shot into her.
Harrington.
Oh, God, she saw him with that gun pointed at her and thought her life was over then. Of course, being held captive by this madman didn't make her feel all that lucky now.
Final Judgment.
She had no illusions that that was what he had planned for her.
As the drug wore off, she became more aware and the pains she felt were reduced to a dull ache. It was a constant struggle to keep her breathing under control as she finally opened her eyes.
Unable to scream or make any sound at all, she tried desperately to get enough air into her lungs that instantly constricted and her heart began pounding with a ferocity she had never felt before. The large silver sword was tied to a beam and suspended about a foot above her. Suddenly she knew without a doubt that she was going to die and she fought the feelings of panic and hysteria.
Her nostrils began flaring with the effort to breathe and when the spots began floating across her field of vision, she realized she was about to hyperventilate. When she heard a moan next to her, she whipped her head to the side and saw to her shock that she was not alone.
Devane.
Her eyes grew wider still when she saw that he was in shackles as well and an identical sword was hanging from the same beam above him. She tried to make any sound at all, trying to get him awake, but the moan was not repeated and he remained still. McCall wandered if he had been drugged also and hoped that he would come out of it soon even though he was in no better shape than she was, at this point.
Suddenly, she heard another sound. A door opening and what sounded like a large of group of people entering the room she was in. She was unable to see them, but she heard many voices, murmuring and then Harrington was standing over her.
"Awake, I see. Good. The ceremony has so much more meaning when the judged ones are fully aware as they receive Final Judgment."
McCall could only stare at him in utter horror.
"All right people, take your seats. The ceremony is about to begin." Harrington turned back to her. "I'll be right back, Sgt, I've got to change clothes."
And then he was gone. McCall closed her eyes. Rick. She thought of Rick and tried to think of nothing else and she mourned that she was about to lose a lifetime with the man that she loved with all her heart.
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When Rick Hunter received word that McCall had been taken from her home and that Devane was missing as well, he knew without a shadow of a doubt who was behind it. And he was certain that he had been pulled out of the way with the promise of a lead that turned out to be a complete dead end.
For several minutes he could only sit in his car, staring at the radio mike in his hand, unable to move, unable to think and barely able to breathe. And then the pain started. The hole in his heart where once there had been McCall was such a terrible ache that nothing could penetrate it. It clouded his thoughts and his vision and made rational thought impossible.
Harrington.
He wanted to find him and punish him and remove him from the face of the planet, but the pain in his heart was overriding his ability to function. The pain could only focus on DeeDee and would not let him think. The pain made him feel helpless and weak.
He needed to think. He had to find her. He had to be strong and bring her and Devane back.
And so he turned off his heart. He shut it down and became a cop. He let his mind take over and went after the man who had tried to ruin their lives. Hunter vowed that it would not happen.
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McCall was not able to see all the people she heard rustling about and talking in low, hushed tones but she had the unmistakable impression that she was in a kind of temple or church. She cast a nervous glance at the gleaming sword dangling above her and her hands felt again the cool smooth surface that she was lying on. She thought perhaps that it was marble meaning that she and Charlie were on an altar. Her heart sank.
(Perfect,) she thought, (since we're going to be sacrificed here at Harrington's perverted church).
She closed her eyes. (Rick. Think of Rick.) She told herself as she worked on trying to slip her hands and feet from their bindings.
She was getting more and more frustrated and increasingly frightened as she waited and dreaded Harrington's return. The tiny part of her that simply wanted to cry was firmly tamped down by the much larger part that knew that she'd suffocate if her nose became congested, and so she tried to concentrate only on her breathing and kept Rick's face before her.
So intense was her focus that the sudden shattering of glass took her completely by surprise. Unable to move, she listened to more glass breaking followed by several small explosions and she saw the poisonous fumes of what she assumed was tear gas hover like a cloud and then rain down. The screaming was followed immediately by coughing, sneezing and vomiting as everyone was affected by the gas. Next, she heard someone on a bull horn ordering everyone to stay down as they were rounded up by L.A.'s finest.
Now, she really did want to cry – but in complete relief. Before she could wonder what was going to happen when the tear gas reached her and Charlie, Hunter was at her side, wearing a face mask. Not wasting a single second, he placed an identical mask over her own face.
Her eyes bulged in amazement. He was here! He had found them!
She saw his lips moving, but she was unable to make out the words, his voice muffled and drowned out by all the commotion around them. He pulled out a walkie-talkie and kept one hand on her face mask, keeping it firmly in place, protecting her from the noxious gas.
She managed to look over at Charlie without dislodging the mask and was relieved to see Kitty protecting him from the fumes. When someone arrived with bolt cutters, she realized what Hunter must have been radioing for.
As soon as the chain to her right arm was cut, Hunter took her right hand and guided it up to hold the mask as he went about cutting the other three chains. McCall felt her right hand slipping and tried to lift her left hand up, but Hunter, seeing the difficulty she was having, took a moment to pull the straps of the mask behind her head, freeing up her hands before finishing on the leg chains.
McCall managed to push herself up on her elbows and could now see that she was indeed in some kind of church and she watched Harrington's followers secured and herded outside, probably into the police riot vans.
Then it hit her!
Harrington! Frantically she looked around for him. Hunter had finished with the chains and handed the bolt cutter over to Brad when he noticed her anxious movements. Instantly he was in her face.
"What! What is it?" He asked, alarmed.
Her mouth still taped, she was unable to tell him. She needed to raise the mask to remove the gag, but didn't dare with the tear gas still floating about. She stared at Hunter fiercely and not surprisingly, after a moment, he got it. "They're looking for him."
McCall nodded, her brow furrowed as she scanned the room. She caught sight of Charlie being carried out by two officers, even as Hunter gently pulled her to a standing position. Still feeling the effects of the unknown drug that she'd been shot with, she managed one shaky step before her knees buckled. Without missing a beat, Hunter scooped her up and followed Kitty outside. As soon as they were away from the tear gas, McCall ripped the mask off and began peeling the tape off. Hunter set her down on the hood of his car and pulled his own mask off.
"DeeDee – God, are you all right?"
McCall could only nod as her hands fell to her side. The tape was stuck fast, her hands were too heavy with the shackles and she was too weak. Hunter reached up to try and help with the tape, when a paramedic came over to offer his assistance.
"Is she okay?"
Hunter looked over at him. It was starting to hit him. The shock of nearly losing his partner and then finding her shackled and chained on an altar with a sword hanging over her had scared him badly and now that he had her safe, he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and never let go again.
"Sir – is she okay?"
Hunter shook his head. "Sorry – yeah – I think she's okay – we're just trying to get this tape off without pulling all the skin along with it."
The paramedic grinned and held up several small packets. "Adhesive tape remover."
McCall and Hunter breathed sighs of relief. "Thanks," Hunter said and they began to ease the duct tape off. At long last, McCall was able to spit out the rag, taking in huge gulps of air. "Oh, God, thank you!"
Kitty arrived with a bottle of water that McCall promptly put to her parched lips. She didn't stop until the liquid was almost gone. "How – how's Charlie?" She was finally able to ask.
The paramedic introduced himself as Ben. "We're on our way to the hospital now. He got hit on the back of the head, so he'll need a couple of staples and some x-rays. His vital signs are fine though. I wanted to see if you wanted to ride along with us."
McCall shook her head. "I'm fine. Harrington shot me with some kind of tranquilizer gun, that's all." She pulled open the top of her blouse and showed them the injection site just below her left collarbone. There was a drop of blood and some bruising and swelling around it.
Hunter clenched his jaw. "McCall, let them take you in and get checked over – just to be sure."
McCall, not surprisingly, began to protest, but Ben overrode her. "It would be for the best. That way we can find out what you were injected with and make sure there aren't any side effects we need to look out for."
Kitty put a hand on McCall's shoulder. "We need to do it for evidence as well. Another nail in Harrington's coffin. And," she added with a small smile, "you can keep an eye on the Captain for us."
McCall stared at Hunter. She saw her own fear reflected back in his eyes and relented. "All right, I'll go. But let me know as soon as you hear anything on Harrington, deal?"
Hunter gave her a quick hug. "Deal." Without giving her a chance to argue, he again picked her up and brought her over to the ambulance. He placed her on the bench in the back, next to Charlie's stretcher.
Ben climbed in beside her. "I'll radio ahead and have them get the tools to get those shackles off."
"Thanks," McCall answered with a smile.
"I'll be up there as soon as I can," Hunter promised just before he closed the ambulance doors. He banged once, signaling the driver to take off and watched them pull away. For a moment, he couldn't tear his eyes away, the expression on his face one of dark fury. Close. It had been too damned close. And Harrington was still on the loose.
Grimly he followed Kitty, determined to find the man and make him pay, thinking how he'd wished they could have gotten here sooner.
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As he hurried back to help in the search and round up, he thought how incredibly fortunate it was that they had made it here at all. After he had learned of McCall and Devane's capture, it had taken thirty minutes to remember that he'd had a homing device placed on McCall's car as a safety precaution when it had become obvious that Harrington wasn't finished with them. Berating himself harshly for his memory loss, he had prayed that the lapse wouldn't exact a fatal price.
He had then called Navarro at the station and was forced to wait nervously for him to radio back with the location of the car.
(What if the device didn't work? What if it was out of range?) He thought, his heart full of dread.
When Brad did call, several long minutes later he was on the move. Navarro would coordinate the rest of the units and meet him there.
When Hunter arrived at the remote location, he cautiously advanced as close as he dared. He saw that it was a small church, narrow with a bell tower at the front. Lights blazed from the numerous stained glass windows. There were several Suburbans, vans and trucks parked on the grassy lot. Hunter had carefully searched the area for any lookouts but it seemed that everyone must have been inside.
He had called Navarro back to update him on the situation and urged him to hurry, even as he was climbing out of his car, his gun at the ready, to scoot up to the entrance. The double front doors each had a glass window set in the middle. Hunter pressed his face close and peered anxiously inside. His eyes scanned up the rows of pews filled with men and women until he saw the altar.
At first his brain couldn't accept what he was seeing. When he realized that it was Devane and McCall up there and that two very long, very sharp swords were hanging over them he felt his mind traveling down a road of rage that he'd not been on since McCall's rape.
It had taken every ounce of self control not to storm the place without back up, but he knew with both Devane and McCall at risk, he couldn't do it alone. So he had waited.
Seconds dragged into minutes that felt like hours. His heart was hammering so hard in his chest that he felt his vision was beginning to blur. He had spent his time trying to quiet his heart and let himself enter his mental "cop zone".
Thankfully the reinforcements had arrived and Hunter raced to get into the riot gear they had brought. He was running to the altar almost before the first canister of tear gas exploded, reaching McCall just in time. He had hated that he couldn't remove the gag but there had been no time.
When he had carried her out of that church, it was all he could do not to simply bury his face in her hair and fall down on his knees in total relief that she was all right. Putting her in that ambulance was hard, as well, but he knew he owed it to her and Devane to find Harrington and put an end to this madness.
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While Devane was being taken care of, O'Hearn arrived to keep McCall company as lab work was done, and pictures were taken of the injection site. She took down McCall's statement, shaking her head in amazement at the description of Harrington's brazen attack.
"I'll tell you, Kitty, I thought it was all over when I saw that gun," McCall said with a slight shudder.
"Well, he practically shoved the trunk of the car into the front seat of the squad car. Fortunately Abrams and Carter are only banged up – nothing's broken – but they're going to be pretty sore for awhile." Kitty reassured her.
The two women settled back in the waiting room with large cups of coffee and waited for news, both from the doctors and from their partners.
The first report was on their Captain and it was good. A minor hairline fracture, no bleeding on the brain and he had regained consciousness a few minutes ago. He was being admitted for observation and they would be able to see him as his room was made ready.
They hurried to his side, relieved to see him propped up on the stretcher, his face pale, but his eyes were open. He looked over at them in surprise. "O'Hearn – McCall! I hope you're here to tell me what the hell is going on! Nobody in this place will tell me a damn thing!"
O'Hearn smiled as she pulled up a chair next to him. "Well, Captain, there's a lot to tell. What's the last thing you remember?"
McCall also sat down as she watched her boss' eyes drift away as he tried to think.
"Well, I seem to recall Navarro trying to get a current on Harrington and Hunter got a tip from Sporty." He paused as he tried to get more from his memory, despite a pounding headache.
"I think I remember getting home – but it's fuzzy."
McCall and O'Hearn took turns giving Devane an account of all that had happened, ending with the storming of Harrington's church.
"And now we're waiting to hear from Hunter and Navarro," McCall concluded with a sad smile.
Devane stared at her closely. "And you're sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine. I'm sure it was just some sort of tranquilizer," she reassured him.
Devane nodded once. Just then, the techs arrived to transport him to his room, and reminded O'Hearn and McCall that visiting hours were over tonight.
Devane started to protest, but his two officers promised to get word to him as soon as Navarro and Hunter reported in, since there would be a guard outside his room as a precaution. Devane sighed and allowed himself to be wheeled away.
O'Hearn and McCall went back out to the waiting room to begin their vigil and were told that there shouldn't be any further effects of the drug that Harrington had used. Both women breathed a sigh of relief.
As they waited in silence, McCall didn't want to voice her concern that their partners weren't having any luck. O'Hearn stuck to the "no news is good news" theory. McCall hoped that it would be true.
Three hours later, Navarro and Hunter found both had fallen asleep in the stiff chairs of the Emergency waiting room. They grabbed fresh cups of coffee before waking them up.
"You, okay, McCall?" Hunter asked first, offering her a cup that she gratefully accepted.
"Yeah – run of the mill tranquilizer - should be out of my system in a couple of days. They advised me not to take any drug tests for a week or two," she quipped, trying to hide her nervousness.
"How's the Captain?" Navarro wanted to know.
O'Hearn sipped carefully at the steaming coffee before answering. "He came around. Remembers up to being hit on the head, but didn't see the assailant. Has a hairline skull fracture, no bleeding and will be spending the night for observation. We had a guard posted outside his room."
"Good thinking."
McCall stared over at Hunter closely. "You didn't find him – did you?"
Her tone wasn't accusatory, but Hunter felt ashamed nonetheless. "No. We didn't. We scoured that area with everything we had. Somehow he must have heard us in time. We're pretty sure we got everyone else in that church though. Hopefully someone will be able to give us something to go on – some idea where to hunt for him."
McCall looked down at her hands, clasped fiercely in her lap. She didn't feel nearly optimistic. Harrington was gone. He was safe. And while almost all his followers had most likely been captured, it seemed possible that he would still come after them.
She scooted closer to her partner and let him drape his arm around her shoulder. He gently pulled her close and laid his head atop hers before planting a small kiss on her cheek.
"We're gonna stick together on this, McCall. Don't you worry."
McCall remained silent.
"That's right, McCall," Brad piped in. I think we wiped out most of his group and we're still going to be looking for his base. He can't hide forever. We'll find him." Kitty squeezed his hand in encouragement.
McCall closed her eyes and sank deeper in Hunter's embrace, wanting to recapture the sense of security she would feel there.
It wasn't quite up to its usual standard, but it would have to be enough for now. Harrington was still out there and there was no guarantee that he wouldn't be back. Who knew for sure? Who knew when?
"I'll call the guard upstairs and he can update the Captain when he's awake. I say we all go home and get some rest," Navarro said. "You especially, Hunter, look like you could sleep a week."
Hunter nodded. Nearly losing his partner had taken quite a toll on his body and his psyche. McCall saw it easily and stood up, pulling him along with her. "Come on, partner, I think I've just the thing to help." She put her arm in his and guided him down the hall.
"You know what I like," he stage-whispered with a comical leer.
McCall just smiled. "Yes, I do. Let's go."
