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Chapter 15

End June 2004

More than three weeks had passed since the arrest of Annette Hooper. She had been remanded to custody pending a full hearing and soon after was released to a drug rehabilitation unit where she would await trial for the manslaughter of Karl Woodward.

It had been a tough case on them all, seeing Annette Hooper reduced to desperation by drugs and the lengths with which she would go to obtain money, and the subsequent testimonies had been time consuming and somewhat soul destroying.

Danny's cold had lingered for more than a fortnight, refusing to clear up, and this had made the usually calm and laid back agent more than usually snappy and bad tempered. Reggie had skipped school and been caught by a neighbour, causing Vivian no end of worry, Sam had her own issues and Jack was wrapped up in family stuff. None of which could be helped, it was just bad timing. But it meant that no one really saw the deterioration in Martin Fitzgerald for what it really was, no one was alert enough to peruse it, to find out what was wrong with the blue eyed man.

Things had quietened down however after a couple of extremely jittery days following the discovery of the note under his door; days when he couldn't walk down the street without keep one hand always close to his gun, looking this way and that, suspecting anyone who so much as looked as him. Nights spent awake listening for a sound at the door, or at a window, flinching almost every time the phone rang. But the phone stopped ringing and no one seemed to be bothering him.

He was able to function normally for the most part, to get through his day to day work without thinking about Jameson or what happened any more than five or six times a day, instead of constantly.

There were new cases, a six year old kid that went missing in the playground seeming right in front of his mother's eyes. Turned out one of the other Mom's had taken him, her only son had been killed a year previously and she was suffering from a form of delusional paranoia. The kid had been found unharmed and reunited with a very grateful mother.

He and Danny then flew to St Paul to give evidence at the trial of a 37 year old man who had kidnapped his next door neighbour's 16 year old daughter, and then raped and killed her.

That was three days ago. The case had been more than a year previously but neither agent had ever forgotten the gruesome scene that awaited them when they figured out where the girl was and who had taken her. They hadn't talked about it at the time, but both men had suffered more than one nightmare since. Getting off the plane in JFK the two men had eaten dinner and talked a little about the case and the fact that the guy had only gotten 12 years in prison.

As they sat in the car outside Danny's apartment the dark haired agent couldn't help but noticing the dark circles ringing Martin Fitzgerald's eyes. He was going to ask what was wrong, what had been bothering the man for the last few weeks, but he was just too tired and it been too long a day to think about it.

And so the two men had parted with a 'Goodnight' and Martin turned his car towards home.

Sitting at a traffic light, Martin rested his head against the steering wheel for a few moments, in pure exhaustion. It had been a long day, a long week. A long month.

He wished he knew what was happening, the last three weeks were a lull, there were times when he almost forgot, first thing in the morning when he woke up, when just for a second it would seem like a normal day. And then he would remember and look around the apartment in fear, for a note, a missed call, anything. But there had been nothing.

The lights turned green and he was just about to pull off when the passenger door of the car opened and a man sat in. Martin reacted quickly, reaching for his gun.

But not quick enough.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The voice was slightly hoarse and deeper than he remembered, the face to when it came into view, seemed different to what he had pictured in his head and in the nightmares that had plagued him for all those years after the kidnapping.

This man was tall, stocky and muscular, with tattoos running the length of both arms, long curlicues and what looked like ocean breaker waves.

But it was Jameson alright, it had to be. Martin silently bereted himself for not locking the door when Danny got out. He'd been so careful lately, always looking over his shoulder, never letting his guard down. But he'd been so tired……

"What do you want?" It was a stupid question to ask, but the only thing he could think of.

"To go to the park and play on the swings. What the f&&k do you think I want? Now keep driving."

Martin signed inwardly and pressed on the accelerator, the car moved forwards smoothly.

"Look, I really don't have time for this, that was all years ago, what's the point in coming after me? huh?"

"The point is that everything was ruined cos of you. You ruined it all, everything that I had was taken away and it wasn't even my fault."

"Not your fault?" Martin Fitzgerald turned to face the man, one eye on the road. "You ruined my family, almost killed me, and ruined my …… my Mom….." Here he broke off. "And you're telling me it's NOT YOUR FAULT?"

"SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!" the man yelled waving the handgun he had dangerously close to the FBI agent. "SHUT UP or I swear to god I'll kill you now!"

"Not if I do it first." The words came out almost as a mutter as Martin Fitzgerald pushed the accelerator pedal to the floor and the car shot forwards at top speed through a red light and an open intersection. There were beeps, shouts and the sounds of screeching brakes. A delivery van coming from the opposite direction locked its brakes and almost missed them. Martin's car clipped the van and spun once before coming to a halt on the side of the road, almost as if its had been parked.

Martin banged his head off the steering wheel as the car spun, but he recovered quickly enough to realise that Jameson too had hit his head off the car door and was stunned. He wrenched open the car door…… and then heard the a very familiar 'click'

"Don't Marty. If you go, I go.

The two men walked for about a block, Martin could feel the cold steel of the handgun pressing against his back. Eventually they turned into a deserted side street. Jameson stopped in front of a tan sedan car and with the butt of the revolver broke the side window.

"Oh very original, what, you're going to take me off to another stupid basement are you? Give me a break."

He came to regret his sarcasm though, as he felt the heavy steel gun glancing off his head. Crumpling to the ground, Martin Fitzgerald was only aware of Jameson's shouts and the pain flaring up in his midsection as the man's boots made contact with his ribs.

"Just like the last time." He thought to himself as darkness descended.