Ever so slowly, Adrian made his way up the northbound right side bridge cable, a wipe in each hand as he gripped the railings tighter than one could imagine. His eyes were by and large shut, and he felt like passing out again. But he forced himself to keep going. He wasn't going to let anything happen to the kids on his watch.
After a five-minute climb, he felt reasonably calmed to open his left eye a tad. He had somehow made it two-thirds of the way up. There were three people atop the tower, pacing back and forth. Attached to the other side, he noticed ominously, was a small metallic cage, and there was definitely someone inside it—as well as C4 holding it to the superstructure.
The helicopters were circling far enough away from the bridge that he could now make out some of the conversation going on. "…real, real good," Ertley could be heard muttering out loud, "Where the hell's my chopper? They're three minutes behind schedule. I need to be at least five miles away to avoid being radiated by this blast."
"Well, since we'll be splitting up in Sao Paulo, let me get right to the chase, Ertley, you owe me five hundred grand," Trevor told him.
"What do I look like, the federal reserve?" Ertley said, irritated, "You'll get paid when we touch down in Brazil, Fleming."
"You wouldn't happen to be thinking of double-crossing me, would you Ertley?" Trevor sounded like he didn't trust the white supremacist at all.
"No, of course not, a deal's a deal, I told you that myself," Adrian could tell Ertley was lying, even though he had his eyes shut again. The wind was blowing hard off the bay, leaving the detective feeling like he'd be blown off the structure if it got any stronger. He gripped the railings even tighter and forced himself forward.
"I hope you realize you're not going to get away with this," came Julie's voice from the cage. She was doing her best to sound brave, but Adrian could sense the terror she was feeling.
"Oh really, sugarpot?" Ertley sneered, "Well, your guardian angel Detective Monk was the only one who could prove that, and right now he's baking like a clam. Meanwhile, any blast this big (Adrian could now here even the more ominous sound of a bomb ticking away) is going to get blamed on the Arabs by the stupid, pathetic populace. While we bomb their cities into dust in retaliation, I'll be safely soaking up the sun on the Copacabana knowing I've done my country a great favor by ridding it of unworthys. So if I were you, I'd shut my mouth and enjoy the last few minutes of your life."
He gave the cage a contemptuous kick. Having inched further to the top, Adrian now took disgusted note that both Julie and Benjy had been fitted with explosive vests that could have been detonated by remote. He also could now hear the rhythm of the nuclear bomb. From what he could ascertain, there was at least fifteen pounds of spent toxic waste loaded into the bomb, and it was going to blow in six minutes and twenty-four seconds.
"Are we sure we have to kill them?" came a quiet, upset voice from the other corner of the tower. Adrian could sense that "Black Pete" had personally stopped the Davenport's car on the interstate, and was already regretting it.
"We have no choice," Trevor said impatiently, "We've come too far for this."
"YOU'VE come too far for this!" Pete hissed, "You told me you were framed by your wife, Trevor! You told me Detective Monk had fabricated evidence against you! You said nothing about killing innocent kids!"
"Are you chickening out?" Ertley clearly had no qualms about killing innocent kids, "That wouldn't be very healthy, you know."
"Ed, are you really this insane?" Pete protested, "They're not even teenagers! I would never have agreed to do this if the two of you have told me about this…!"
"All right, that's it," Ertley drew a semi-automatic from his pocket. Adrian shut his eyes again, not willing to witness firsthand the shot that rang out. A low groan, followed by Julie shrieking, "DADDY, NOOO!" followed. He knew now that the deception had been carried out to the end. He waited until he heard the splash in the bay below before he dared to open his eyes once more. "Damn coward," Ertley wasn't even fazed in the least, "I knew his spine was too weak for this. Check that charge, Fleming; I want their drop to be smooth and instantaneous."
"Right," Trevor hurried over to the cage again. "Please Dad, don't do it!" Benjy pleaded tearfully with him, "You don't have to do this!"
Genuine regret crossed Trevor's face. "Believe me son, I don't really want to do it either," he said softly, "But your mother has to pay for all the trash she's thrown against me, and right now this is the only option."
"You can talk it over with her, please Dad, it doesn't have to come to this!" Adrian's soul was breaking as much as the boy's was as he heard all this.
"I'm sorry, Benjy, but this is the only way, and that's that!" Trevor firmly reasserted his position, "If it makes you feel any better, you'll probably see her again soon. I'm guessing the witch'll blow her brains out no more than ten days from now. Her life will be meaningless without…"
"Are they set or what, we haven't got all day!" Ertley yelled over, "Five minutes till this thing goes off."
"Right," Trevor adjusted some dials and walked back over to the white supremacist. Adrian took some deep breaths. He had almost made it to the top now. The question was how to take out both of them when they were heavily armed and he had just his wits—which he'd happily have traded at the moment for sufficient firepower. One thing he did have, though, was the element of surprise; neither man had noticed him so far. He pumped his wrists, ready for action.
It was then that it happened. There was a squawk as an albatross flew overhead. Seconds later, Adrian felt the moist stuff on his shoulder. He knew immediately what it was, and couldn't stop himself from groaning in disgust. Both Ertley and Trevor turned to look at the source of the sound. "YOU!" the latter shouted. He cocked his rifle, ignoring Benjy's shout of, "Dad, no!" and started firing away at the detective. "How many times do I have to warn you to stay out of what isn't your business, Monk!" he roared.
"This is very much my business, Trevor!" Adrian squatted low until the fugitive's clip was exhausted, "Do you really love that boy?" he pointed at the cage.
"What kind of stupid question is that, Monk?"
"If you really love him, you'll throw away that detonator and let him and Julie go, because this, Trevor, is just between you and me!" Adrian made the mistake of glancing down at the bay almost a thousand feet below him. He immediately seized up and moaned in fright.
"There's no argument here, Monk, this time I've won and you're not going to take any cheap shots on me!" Trevor broke out laughing at his foe's predicament, "It's over already!"
"Not on my watch…which, unfortunately, is broken," Adrian took deep breaths to try and calm his shot nerves, "But anyway, I've got backup, and they're not afraid to use force!"
"Oh really? Well, so are we!" Ertley spoke up. Adrian heard the sound of metal scraping. Too late he looked up to see the two men hefting trashcans. Moments later, a cascade of garbage spiraled down toward him. He gasped and retreated. "That's exactly why I've won too, Monk!" Ertley snarled, "Only the strong survive!"
"I've got news for you Ed, you're on of the weakest people on the planet!" Adrian shouted, feeling rather weak with trash all around him. This prompted Ertley to hurl his trashcan at him. Adrian just managed to duck it in time. "Fleming, drop them now!" Ertley told him, "Our time's almost up!"
"With pleasure," Trevor reached into his pocket for the cell phone detonator, "Anything to make our friend Mr. Monk squirm!"
"Not on my…broken…watch!" Adrian found himself shouting. The detective stepped backwards behind the trash can, which had lodged in the side of the cable and somehow kicked it up to the top of the tower, where it slammed into Trevor's face. The fugitive dropped the cell phone and stumbled back into Ertley, knocking him to the ground. Adrian breathed a sigh of relief and threaded his way through the garbage land mines to the very top of the towers. "He didn't hurt you, did he?" he called to the kids.
"Why'd he have to kill me dad?" Julie sobbed.
"No, that wasn't your dad, Julie, he's still dead, thank God," Adrian said, slapping himself when he realized he was only making matters worse again, "That man who just got shot, he was with them. The big bad racist paid him to impersonate your dad to break your mom's heart. We're really high up here," he shivered, finding it hard to keep his balance. There seemed to be water on all sides of him.
"I know," Benjy said, "Get us out of here."
"Sure, uh…" the ticking sound loomed large in Adrian's ears again, "If, if you'll just hang pat for a couple more minutes, I'll defuse this big bomb and let you out of there."
He approached the bomb. The count was now two and a half minutes. "OK, OK, there's a load of wires here," he said, examining the bomb, "Boy, they're expert builders. Uh, well, maybe I could, um, maybe it's plugged in somewhere here. I should really keep pliers on me…we're way too high up here."
"Yeah, it's really a long way down too, Monk," came Trevor's voice. Adrian spun to see he'd grasped the cell phone again. "For the love of God, Trevor, DON'T DO IT!" he cried out one last call for reason.
"Let's see how you like more pain in your life, Monk," was Trevor's response to this. The fugitive pressed the number 0 button. The C4 holding the cage to the bridge exploded, and it dropped out of sight to the sound of two terrified voices screaming "MR. MOOONK!"
"Hold on!" Adrian yelled. Against all of his better judgment, he ran toward the edge of the tower and dove off it after the cage. His eyes squinted half open, he scrunched his neck up; he knew well that whiplash had been what had killed Gwen Stacy when the Green Goblin had thrown her off the George Washington. Slowly he started catching up with the cage. When he was almost on top of it—only about a hundred feet from the road deck--he reached out and grabbed hold of the bars. Simultaneously, he reached his legs out and wrapped them around the bridge cable he knew was behind him. He and the cage slowed to an abrupt stop. "No need to worry, Mr. Monk's here," he said, "What's that…oh no, they painted the bridge yesterday!"
He could feel a distinct wet spot in his inseam that was definitely paint. "Are you out of your mind?" Julie had to ask, "You just jumped off one of the largest bridges in the country."
"I know, I must be legally insane, perhaps even schizophrenic," Adrian agreed. He burst into tears. "I'm going crazy, jumping off bridges; what was I thinking!" he howled, "Oh God, we're high up. HELLLLLLLPPPP! Somebody get us down! We're really high up! I promise I'll never tell another lie as long as I live!"
"Just who's saving who here?" Benjy had to ask.
"Monk!" came a familiar cry from the bay. Adrian dared to open his eyes all the way. He could see the light of a police barge speeding toward the bridge. A light was being shined up toward him. "I don't believe it, he's jumped off the top of the bridge," Disher could be heard saying to an associate, "Monk are you all right?"
"Do I look like I'm all right, lieutenant, get me down from here!" the detective cried out. The paint was seeping into his pants now.
"Just hold on a little longer Monk, we're going to bring the boat here underneath," Disher called to him. "Did you really jump off the bridge?"
"I know, it's amazing, just call me Spider-Monk," the detective shrugged in a rare humorous mood that contradicted his terror of being up high. "Talk about riding the movies," he commented, "I don't think we could get much closer to Sam Raimi's vision if we…"
"Watch out Mr. Monk!" Julie's warning came seconds too late, before a hard metallic object hit the detective in the side. "Damn you Monk!" Trevor roared, having slid down the cable after him, "You've ruined my plans for the umpteenth time!"
He walloped the detective with a large metal pipe. Tremendous pain seared Adrian's body, but he tried to ignore it as best he could. "And I'll keep ruining them until you learn your lesson," he said in defense. His legs were starting to slide. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out, especially now that his nemesis was smacking his legs with the pipe.
"You never know when to give up, do you?" Trevor bellowed, "I wouldn't have to be doing this if you'd taken the warnings in Chicago seriously!"
"There's no reason you have to be…"
"Shut your mouth!" the fugitive slugged Adrian across the face. He then started hitting the detective's fingers. Adrian strained hard to hold onto the cage, which had been starting to slip out of his grasp anyway. "They're innocent children, Trevor!" he begged, "If you want me, take me alone!"
"Sharona has to suffer, as do you!" Trevor was now consumed completely by rage, Adrian sadly realized, "So just let go, Monk, and this will all be over with."
"I'm not letting go, Trevor," Adrian took another look at the bay. The barge was only about halfway closer to the bridge. They'd be dead if he let go now.
"You'd better damn well let go, Monk!" Trevor pounded his fingers harder.
"I WON'T!" he couldn't hold on much longer.
"Then you'll join them at the bottom of the bay!" Trevor drew a pistol, but before he could fire, the sound of two police helicopters exploding overhead caught their attention. An all-black chopper had arrived on the seen and thrown down a ladder. "Hey, hey, hey!" Trevor's attention shifted back up to the tower as Ertley grabbed on and took off into the sky. "You were supposed to wait for me!" he fumed, scrambling to get back up the cable.
"You snooze, you loose, Fleming!" Ertley cockily called down.
Then, to the amazement of all, a new figure came out of nowhere and grabbed on to Ertley. "AMBROSE?" Adrian was in shock. His brother, actually coming out and climbing a bridge tower?
""You're not going anywhere, buddy!" Ambrose's voice echoed all over the bridge with unbelievable resolve.
"Get off me you damned super freak!" Ertley fired several shots at the instruction manual writer, which all missed. He was clearly struggling to hold on to the ladder under Ambrose's weight.
"Not on my life…or what passes for a life!" was Ambrose's response. Ertley couldn't hold on anymore. As he fell, he grabbed out for something else. A loud buzz rang out from the top of the tower. "Yes!" Adrian said softly. The terrorist had diffused his own bomb.
"NOOOOOOOO!" Ertley shrieked as he and Ambrose plummeted, "My dream! My…uh oh!"
"Uh oh!" Ambrose added, seeing they were headed for a collision with everyone below them.
"UH OH!" Adrian and Trevor said simultaneously. There was no way for them to get out of the way. Everyone collided and fell toward the bay. The cage was pulled from Adrian's hands. Frantically, he reached out for it in mid-air, and somehow managed to grasp it with one hand and grab on to the bottom of the walkway railing with his other hand. His fellow free fallers grabbed a hold of his legs. "Could you suck in your breaths a bit!" Adrian called at them, "Not so hard, Ertley, you're stretching the fibers!"
"You think I care about your pants, Monk?" the white supremacist couldn't help betraying his terror about the situation. "Come down and get me!" he yelled into his hand radio.
"Over me dead body they will!" Ambrose said defiantly.
"You may just get your wish!" Ertley snapped. He fired more shots at Ambrose, who somehow managed to avoid them and climbed up over his brother to the walkway and safety. "Fingers!" Adrian protested as Ambrose almost crushed them.
The sound of a helicopter buzzing by them filling the air. "Catch you all later!" Ertley could just barely be heard saying. He let go of Adrian's leg and dropped into the copter's cargo hold. It started rising up into the air. Adrian quietly cursed to himself. There was no way he'd be able to catch the mastermind now. But that was the least of his concerns. He could feel the cage starting to slip out of his grasp again. He dared to look down. Disher and the barge were almost there, but he couldn't hold it for as long as it would take. "Listen, guys," he told the kids, "I'm going to take a risk here. If you die, please forgive me."
"How can…?" Julie didn't get he chance to finish. "Randy, heads up!" Adrian utilized his last card and tossed the cage toward the barge seconds before he would have lost it. He watched with bated breath as it flew through the air toward the bay, then pumped his hand in delight as the children landed safely on the barge—right on top of Disher, in fact, knocking him senseless. "Yes!" the detective exclaimed in excitement.
"NO!" Trevor groaned, seeing his revenge thwarted. The fugitive drew a knife and thrust it at the detective. "You'll pay for screwing everything up again, Monk!" he roared.
"Guess again," came Ambrose's voice. Trevor was conked on the head with his own metal pipe. "Nobody messes with my brother!" the instruction manual writer declared, hauling him up to the walkway.
"I do!" Trevor grappled with him. Adrian took several deep breaths and swung himself up to the walkway. He collapsed onto the cement in time to watch Ambrose slug Trevor right in the face. "This is for destroying my house!" he shouted.
Trevor stumbled dazedly toward Adrian. "And this is for destroying everyone else's house!" Adrian punched him back toward Ambrose.
"And this is for hitting Natalie!" Ambrose slugged back to Adrian.
"And this is for locking us in that chamber to be irradiated!" Adrian hit him back to Ambrose.
"And this is for abusing the woman you swore to love for all eternity!" Ambrose landed a haymaker on his jaw.
"And this is for abusing the trust and love of the boy who forgave you for all your sins!" Adrian delivered a one-two combination punch to his nose, "That one's for trying to kill two innocent children just now!"
"AND THIS ONE'S FOR TRUDY!" both brothers decked him simultaneously. Trevor collapsed to the sidewalk, his face flowing with blood much like Sharona's had been after he'd beaten her. "Get up!" Adrian grabbed him by the middle, blood-free part of his shirt and pushed him against the railing.
"Don't kill me Monk! Don't kill me Monk!" the rage was gone from Trevor's voice, replaced now with abject fear.
"I'm not going to kill you, Trevor!" Adrian shouted, "There's a distinct line separating you from me, and I'm not going to cross it! But I AM going to get all the information I want, starting with how you were involved in the plot to kill my wife!"
"Okay, okay!" Trevor gasped, "Like you said back at the plant, I was the backup. In the event Tennyson's bomb failed to go off, I'd follow your wife to the drugstore and plant a second bomb on her car there. There was a manhole under the space she would have parked in; all I'd have to do was slip under it once I was done and no one would notice. I didn't really want to do it; I'm not a professional murderer!"
"That much is obvious," Ambrose commented, "Instead of locking up in the chamber and giving us ten whole minutes to come up with an escape plan, all you had to do was shoot us, and you would have won."
"I didn't want to be involved, Monk, you have to believe me!" Trevor pleaded with the detective, "I borrowed money off him; he told me he'd kill me if I didn't help out! He told me he'd forgive the debt if I helped kill her."
"So once again, you put your own well-being over the life of someone else. Very, very touching, Trevor," Adrian muttered out loud.
"Hey, it's not like I knew your wife!" Trevor protested, "As far as I knew, she was just some name on a list. I didn't know we'd be standing here now talking about it! If I did, I never would have agreed to it!"
"All right then, who hired you?" Adrian grilled him, "Who ordered you and Tennyson to do Trudy in?"
"I can't tell you that, Monk!" Trevor begged.
"You'd better tell me, Trevor!" Adrian barked, tightening his grip on his foe's shirt.
"Please Monk, don't make me!" the fugitive pleaded pathetically, "He knows I'm here; he'll have ways of finding me!"
"We can make sure you're safe, Trevor, I promise you," Adrian personally felt reluctant to promise anything to a man he hated, but he knew it was the right thing to do.
"You sure about that?"
"Yes," Ambrose still looked rather steamed himself, but he was nodding.
"All right then," Trevor sighed in resignation, "The six-fingered man, the one who hired Tennyson to blow up your wife, happens to be…"