By
Tru False
Language Note: Cannon is back—vulgarity, blasphemy and poor taste abound. The language warning is in full effect.
Chapter 8"How the fuck did you do get loose?"
Cannon rounded angrily on Don, his gun raised and his eyes scanning the corners of the room as if searching for some hidden enemy who must have helped Don to escape. Danny and Lonnie appeared closely behind.
"Look at his thumb!" exclaimed Lonnie, pointing excitedly at Don's left hand—it was the most animated anyone had seen the kid all day.
"Get back over there, right now" Danny instructed in a tone of voice that left no room for argument. The kid jumped slightly and hurried back over to the counter area as if he had only just realized that with all three of them in the entryway, the hostages were unguarded.
"You do that to yourself?" Cannon demanded.
But if he expected any answer from Don, he would be disappointed. Don's world was swaying violently, as if he were sitting on the deck of a ship being tossed about by huge waves. It took a particularly deep turn to the left, and he swayed over to that side. He caught himself with his left hand, and a sharp pain shot up the length of his arm…the arm buckled beneath him, and he almost went all the way down to the ground. Through sheer willpower he managed to sit back up, but he found it difficult to control his momentum. As the world pitched violently right, he swayed that way instead—this time catching himself with his good hand, which held. A white noise roared in his ears and his vision blurred and sharpened sporadically as he fought to remain conscious. Were it not for Charlie lying there beside him, he would have gladly fallen over and passed out.
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Charlie had seen the guy who shot him advance on Don just a split second before it was too late. Don had turned at the last moment, taking the brunt of the blow on the side of his head. Charlie watched as he began to sway severely, like a prizefighter who had just taken a knockout punch. It made him sick, and he wished desperately that he could do something. But just talking to Don had taken all of his strength, and he could already feel the darkness pulling at him. He reached out for Don in a hopeless attempt to grab and steady him, but his hand only caught air as the world slowly disintegrated into blackness and he was gone.
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Danny squatted down in front of Charlie and Don, trying to get Don to focus on him.
He studied Don's hand for a moment. "Hey," he snapped his fingers at Don, whose head was still swaying side to side slightly. "Who is this guy to you?" he asked, indicating Charlie.
Don managed to suppress the swaying, but his eyes remained glassy and unfocused. He squinted at Danny, trying to understand the question.
" 'smy brofer" he slurred, as if his tongue were an inch thick. He shook his head, trying to work himself out of the daze.
Danny nodded his head slowly, then looked up at Cannon. "Jeez Redd—you really screwed him up. I think you cracked his skull," he said uncomfortably as Don rocked slightly left again.
"Nah," Redd replied, oblivious. "He's alright. I didn't hit him that hard." He leaned down close to Don's ear. "Shake it off, boy!" he yelled, then chuckled and turned towards Danny as if expecting him to share in his humor. All he got was a stare.
"Aw, don't look at me like that. You didn't give a shit earlier when it was me that got beat all to Hell."
Still Danny didn't speak.
"He's alright," Redd insisted. "Look," he added as he grabbed Don's shoulder and shook him roughly, "he's a tough guy. Ain't cha?" he asked Don loudly. He looked back at Danny and smiled. "He can take it," he said, letting Don go. Don's head swayed some more and he opened his eyes wide, obviously trying to compensate for the fact that the world was suddenly lurching again.
"Would you just leave him alone for a second and lemme think," Danny replied. "You sick bastard,"he added under his breath.
Redd caught it and his eyes hardened in anger. "I don't know what's goin' on with you, but you been actin' weird all day—and I've had my fill of it," he said. Danny didn't take his eyes off Don, and Redd's ire only increased. He grabbed Danny by the shirtfront and hauled him up to his feet.
"Let go," Danny warned, but Redd kept his hold.
"Lemme explain somethin' to you. This guy," he pointed angrily down at Don "is a fucking FBI. I don't give a shit about what happens to him. You know why? Because he doesn't give a shit about what happens to me either—that's why. And don't you start liking him, or thinking you two are gonna be pals over the fact that you've both got hard-ons for your brothers, 'cause believe me—he's not gonna give one flying fuck what happens to you in the end. He gets one chance, he's gonna send you straight to the federal pen—and Special Needs over there is gonna be on the first short bus for juvy hall. You can bet your life on that." He let go of Danny's shirt. "But you ain't gonna bet mine."
"I won't tell you again Redd,"—Danny's eyes were fierce—"Don't talk about him like that."
"Aw, Christ Danny. You didn't hear a word I just said, did you?" Redd shook his head in disgust. "Listen to me…if you really wanna look out for your brother, then you'd best get your mind round to hatin' this guy, and quick. He's not like fucking rent-a-cop over there," he pointed back towards the hostages. "He's a Fed. They're smart and they're fuckin' wily. You turn your back on him for one second, he's liable to pop up out of a trashcan ten minutes later and slit your Goddamn throat. Look what he's done already," he said, pointing to the pillar where Don had been, "He's a Houdini-type motherfucker."
Danny didn't respond but it looked like some of what Redd had said was sinking in.
Satisfied, Redd turned back to Don. "First off, gimme that vest," he said, indicating the Kevlar, "because you ain't gonna be needin' it."
But Don had come around somewhat during Danny and Redd's exchange, and he liked what he was hearing. He fixed his attention on Danny, ignoring Redd. "I'm not dealing with him," he told Danny in an even voice. "I'm only dealing with you." He locked eyes with him.
Redd was irate. "You'll deal with whoever the fuck I say you will," he threatened as he raised his gun to Don's head. But still Don ignored him, keeping his eyes on Danny's.
"Calm down Redd," Danny said after a moment.
"Don't tell me to fuckin' calm down. This is the kinda shit I'm talkin' about…he's screwing with you already. Don't you see it? He's trying to split us up…divide us."
At that, Danny finally turned his gaze to Redd. "That would be tough to do."
Redd shook his head, incredulous. "You've fucking lost it, man. And you're supposed to be the smart one."
Danny turned back to Don. He was quiet for a moment. "Give him the vest," he said eventually.
Don looked at him. It was a test—something Danny knew Don wouldn't want to do. He had to give the guy credit…he wasn't a complete moron. Don slowly unfastened his vest and gingerly worked his way out of it, wincing when he pulled it over his head and left shoulder. Redd was standing above him with his hand extended to take it, but Don just dropped it on the floor at his feet.
Redd bent down to retrieve it, clearly agitated. "Keep pushin' me," he challenged. Don ignored him.
"I'll take care of it Redd," Danny said. "Why don't you go help Lonnie…that Suit looked like he might try something."
Redd looked hard at Danny, clearly surmising him.
"I heard what you said," Danny assured him. "All of it."
"Alright," Redd replied eventually, though he was clearly unconvinced. "Fine. I'll leave you two fairies at it. But I am telling you," he pointed a warning finger at Danny, "you watch this guy." He paused to read Danny's eyes. "I swear to God Danny, if I come back over here and you two are holding hands singin' fuckin' Kumbaya —I'll shoot the both of you." He turned and started away. "You fuckin' pussy," he added under his breath as he pulled his new bulletproof vest over his head.
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Danny immediately felt his irritation dissipate, like a mosquito that had been buzzing around his head all day had finally flown off. With Redd out of the way, he squatted back down in a catcher's stance in front of Don, his shotgun resting across his thighs. "I can't have you loose," he said after a moment. His eyes traveled back behind Don to the pillar where he had been secured.
"Listen," Don started, then swallowed, wincing—his head was screaming and his vision still rolled from time to time. "I think we can work this out…you and me," he continued. "But I'm gonna tell you something right now—up front." His face hardened. "I'm not leaving my brother."
"I can't have you loose," Danny repeated firmly.
"Well then you might as well shoot me now, because if you try to put me back over there, I'm gonna fight you to the death. I'm not leaving him."
Danny read the fire in Don's eyes—the guy meant it. Hell, Danny could understand. He thought for a minute. "Okay," he said eventually, "here's what I'm thinking…" He put his hands up towards Don, the way one would to a wild animal that was cornered. Slowly, he reached forward and took the loose cuff dangling from Don's right wrist. He kept his other hand up, a non-verbal plea for Don to hear him out. He pushed the loop of the cuff all the way through so it was open again, then reached down and placed it around Charlie's left wrist, bringing it gently closed.
Danny looked back at Don and saw pure hatred in his eyes. He backed away from Charlie a bit, understanding. He pointed down at their cuffed hands. "This way, you know you're gonna stay with him, and I know you're not gonna go wandering around," he explained.
He watched the anger in Don's eyes flicker and then diminish, but Danny knew it was only because he had pushed it down. His jaw was tensed like he was grinding his teeth together…the guy was livid. Don nodded once; it was his only answer.
"Lemme tell you though," Danny warned, placing his hand on his shotgun for emphasis, "…you pop that other thumb out—you and me are gonna have problems."
There was no response to that, but even as he said it, Danny knew he didn't need to worry. Even if the guy could somehow get his other thumb out one-handed, he wasn't going to try it. Danny understood that too.
It was on the tip of his tongue to say something else, but he held it back. There really wasn't anything that would make a difference. Besides, he needed to go check on Lonnie.