Huge, huge thanks to anmodo for betaing this chapter. Also thanks to everyone that has taken to the time to review, it really helps me write.
Chapter 6
Blinking a couple of times, Danny looked at the ticking device and tried to figure out what it was. He forced himself to sit up, gently swayed as he did. He quickly swallowed the nausea that threatened as the flashbacks invaded his senses. Staring at the device in horror, he realised what it was. Immediately, he resolved he wasn't going to die because that's what his father wanted. Although, he had no idea how he was going to survive, but he knew he had to survive so his father would pay for what he did to his family… to Sam… to the other victims that were unfortunate to cross paths with his father.
Forcing himself to stand, he ignored the almost overwhelming pain. He looked around the room – searching for an escape or sometime to shield himself from the impending explosion. Leaning against the wall, exhausted from his actions, he closed his eyes for a moment forcing his panicked mind to concentrate. Hearing water lapping against a wall somewhere below, he moved to the window and peered out of the rotted boards. The sun reflected off the river like a sea of diamonds. At that moment, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. It was his hope, it was his saviour. Moving his tired injured body back and with a surge of adrenaline, he threw himself at the rotten boards – feeling them miraculously give way under his weight. He was vaguely aware of falling before a large explosion took hold of his body and tossed him like a rag doll. He hit the icy, cold mucky water at full force. He was vaguely aware of his struggle to keep his head above the water, but his bound arms and legs made it near impossible. His whole body felt as though it was on fire. Yet if he stopped struggling, the pain started to subside. He didn't feel the cold that chilled him to the bone, he felt as though he was floating. His world started to dim as the surface started to draw away from him.
Hitting the ground hard, the force of the explosion knocked Martin back. Forcing himself to sit up, he surveyed the destruction around him and knew instantly that Danny was in trouble and couldn't have survived the explosion. He couldn't believe that one of his greatest friends was dead. This was Danny. Danny survived a car crash that killed both his parents, Danny walked away from that shooting with a scratch, when it had damn near killed him and everyone else involved – no Danny couldn't be dead. In the corner of his eye, Martin noticed some movement in the water. Turning, he felt his heart skip a beat, as he was sure he saw a head. Blinking a couple of times, he tried to make sure that he wasn't seeing things. The dark head reappeared briefly before it disappeared back into the dark, depths of the Hudson. Before he knew it, he had striped off his coat and shoes and was standing on the edge of the river. It was Danny, he was sure of it. Pausing briefly to check if there weren't any objects in the water, he dived in and started swimming swiftly to the last known location of the floating form.
Martin reached where he believed Danny had last surfaced. The icy water tightened his chest making it difficult to breathe. Drawing a deep breath, he winced as the damp air stung his lungs. He blinked his eyes as he tried to clear his vision in the mucky depths. He could barely see his own hands let alone Danny. Feeling his lungs begin to burn as they screamed for oxygen, he briefly surfaced. He dived again desperately searching for Danny. In the mucky depths, he thought he saw movement and swam towards it. He struggled against the human need for oxygen and continued to swim down.
Eventually, he reached what he thought was Danny. Wrapping one arm around the sinking form, he kicked up—making the agonizingly slow assent to the surface. His lungs were screaming at every slow meter of progress. After what felt like a lifetime, he broke the surface, the cool air stinging his face. Martin looked at the person who he had pulled up and was overwhelmingly relieved to see it was Danny and that he was breathing – although shallowly, but he was still breathing. Martin started to make the short distance back to the dock.
Jack sat up and blinked a couple of times as he looked up at the flames that may have taken two of his agent's lives. As he slowly came to his senses, he fumbled for his radio.
"Martin," he barked down the radio. "MARTIN, damn it! Talk to me."
Martin dragged Danny's limp body onto the dock. Danny was breathing but it was shallower than Martin would have liked and his pulse was too slow and weak. Danny was freezing to death. Gently, laying Danny on his side, he grabbed his coat covered him.
"MARTIN!"
Spinning around, Martin searched for his boss, but couldn't see him. His eyes scanned the dock, where he was sure the voice was coming from, and then realized the Jack's voice was coming from his radio. Patting Danny on the back, he quickly scurried off to pick up his radio and calm his panicked boss.
"Jack," Martin said as he rechecked Danny's vitals. They were the same; but at least they hadn't got any worse.
"Thank god! Are you alright?" Jack asked urgently.
"I'm fine but we need paramedics now," Martin said wincing as he anticipated his boss's onslaught of words.
"Damn-it Martin. You said you were ok," Jack yelled as he stood up and looked around. "Where the hell are you?"
"It's not for me, it's for Danny," Martin replied. "He's alive but he's pretty banged up."
"Danny's alive?" Jack said feeling relief surge from his body as he realised that the explosion hadn't claimed his agent's life. He reached a shaky hand up and rubbed his face. "Where are you?"
"On the east-side, by the water's edge," Martin replied quickly noticing that Danny was stirring.
"I'll be there in less than five minutes," Jack said as he turned and ran in Martin's direction.
Danny opened his eyes a crack; the pain was still there, the cold that chilled him to the bone was still here – which meant he had to be still alive. The ringing in his ears felt like sledgehammer had been taken to his tender skull. He weakly coughed, groaning as the effort tortured his damaged ribs. He saw a knife and tried to back away – not knowing where he was or whom the knife belonged to.
"Danny, it's Martin. Okay? I'm just going cut the rope. All right?" Martin reassured.
Slowly turning his tired, heavy head, Danny looked at Martin through slits. He nodded, quickly closing his eyes as the light felt like a thousand daggers to his head.
Martin gently patted Danny's shoulder before starting to work at the bindings around his friend's ankles.
"S-Sam," Danny said in a small voice, screwing his eyes up as the ringing in his ears intensified.
Although he was temporary confused by Danny's small voice, Martin soon understood what his friend meant. "She's fine, Danny. Just a minor concussion. That's all."
"G-Good," Danny replied unable to speak more than one word at a time as the constant ringing was making it impossible to concentrate.
"That was a really brave and honourable thing you did," Martin commented as he started to work on the bindings around Danny's wrists.
Crying out, Danny pulled his arms away as he felt added pressure on his injured wrist. He tried to pull himself into a protective ball, but the actions sent him into an uncontrollable coughing fit. Each cough racked his painfully damaged ribs bringing him a step closer to blissful unconsciousness.
"Shit, I'm so sorry, man. I didn't mean to," Martin panicked. He was useless with dealing with things like this, never knowing what to say or do. 'Come on Jack hurry up,' Martin silently prayed – Jack would know what say and do, he always did. "Its okay, Danny. Just breathe," Martin coaxed finally finding his voice. "Just breathe man, it's going to be all right."
"Okay," Danny said breathlessly in-between coughs as the coughing fit began to subside. He tried to sit up but found he didn't have the strength. He felt a surge of relief when Martin helped him to sit up.
Martin looked at his friend before looking away. Danny's face was bruised, contorted with pain and wet with tears. Where was Jack? Where were the paramedics? "I am so sorry man. I know you're in pain. I was just trying to get the binding off of your wrists."
"Its okay," Danny said trying to smile reassuringly at his panicked friend. "I know you didn't mean it. I wasn't ready for it that all. They are really beginning to cut into my wrists and it hurts like hell, can you-"
"No, I mean maybe we should wait until the paramedics arrive," Martin suggested all the time praying for Jack to turn up.
"Please," Danny pleaded. "I will just grit my teeth. Please. It makes me feel like a criminal." It makes me feel like him Danny thought.
"Okay," Martin said unsure about his decision. He slowly and carefully began to cut the rope about Danny's wrists, wincing as Danny hissed in pain. "Shit, sorry, I'm so sorry."
Danny found his world was beginning dim again and forced himself to breathe – but found he could only take haggard breaths. There was a familiar voice that was panicked, trying to penetrate the fog. He willed himself to concentrate on the voice trying to ignore the growing darkness that seemed so welcoming. The greyness around to him started to be broken apart by shards of bright light torturing his tender skull.
"Danny, Danny. Come on, man. Don't do this to me! Stay with me," Martin pleaded as Danny started to drift.
Danny opened his eyes a crack and put a hand up to his ringing ears, trying to stop the ringing that was slicing through his skull. "Sorry," Danny said sheepishly to the terrified looking Martin.
"Its okay – tinnitus?" Martin asked noticing how Danny was holding a hand by his ears. "Don't I know - it's a bitch but it will go away eventually."
Danny nodded slowly not wanting to inflict any more pain to his head. He closed his eyes briefly appreciating the blissful sanctity that the temporary darkness brought him.
Martin looked up as he heard a squeal of tires – Jack was here. "Hey Danny – watch as the Jack Malone species performs a rare act of running towards the watering hole," Martin said in his best wildlife presenter voice. He smiled as he found he had earned a small smile from Danny and that Jack was here to take command.
Jack ran towards his two agents – who he thought were dead moments ago. He glanced at Martin - who was soaked and looked a little shaken but otherwise he seemed fine. Danny, on the other hand, looked like he was hanging on to consciousness by the skin of his teeth. He bent down next to Danny and squeezed his shoulder. Turning to Martin, he inquired about his well-being. After getting a satisfactory answer he turned his focus to Danny – who had begun to shiver. "Danny, Danny come on Danny-boy," Jack said gently tapping his face.
Danny lifted his head feeling all of his movements were sluggish. A voice was calling him – demanding a response. But he was too tired, he just wanted to tell the voice to shut up and go to sleep. But something about the familiar authority of the voice told him he shouldn't... he didn't want to open his eyes, he didn't want the painful light to penetrate his skull, but he knew the owner of the voice wouldn't stop until he did. He slowly opened his eyes a crack. "Jack," he tried.
"That's right, Danny," Jack said as he wrapped his coat around the shivering Danny's shoulders. "How are you feeling?"
"Like shit."
"I bet," Jack replied checking Danny over for any oblivious injuries. He noticed Danny was closing his eyes again. "You can't go to sleep yet, I know you are tired but you have to hang on just a bit longer."
"But I am so tired, please Jack," Danny pleaded, hissing in pain when Jack pressed down on the broken ribs and the stab wound.
Jack stared at the blood that stained his hand. "Martin get the first aid kit and the blanket that are my car," Jack said never leaving Danny's side. Sensing that Martin hadn't moved, he turned around to see Martin was frozen to the spot in some form of shock. "Martin the first aid kit NOW!" Hearing Martin scurrying away, he turned his attention back to Danny. "Danny, Sam said that she thought you knew the guy."
"W-why do you want to know?" Danny replied not feeling ready to tell Jack something that he didn't understand himself.
"So I can find the guy that did this to you and beat the crap out of him," Jack replied gently.
"I-it's, its-its my father," Danny managed to stammer.
"I thought-"
"So did I," Danny replied in a small, lost voice.
Jack clenched his jaw as he felt his blood boil with anger. Who could do this to their kid? He felt guilty when he reprimanded Hannah and Kate. He could never bring himself to lay a hand on them let alone try and kill them. "Bastard," he muttered under his breath.
Martin staggered back to the car and leaned against it for a moment as he tried to pull himself together. He began to realise how Danny felt in the aftermath of the shooting. The feeling of utter hopeless, when you are alone with your injured friend after someone had tried to kill you was nothing short of terrifying. Taking a deep breath, he reached into the car and grabbed the blanket and the first aid kit and ran back towards Jack and Danny.
Jack had grabbed the blanket off Martin before he had even stopped. He wrapped the blanket around Danny's shoulders and checked the stab wound. The bleeding had slowed but that could have something do with that Danny was bordering on hypothermic – but Danny had already lost enough blood as it was. Grabbing some gauze and held it against the wound. Wincing as Danny tensed and cried out. "Sorry," Jack apologised. "Why don't you do it," Jack said as he got Danny to put pressure against the wound.
Danny closed his eyes, scowling when someone was shaking him away from the blissful slumber – didn't they understand that he just wanted to sleep? "Go away, I'm tired and I want to sleep," Danny moaned.
"Danny-boy come on Danny stay with me," Jack pleaded as he gently shook him.
"Please Jack, let me sleep," Danny whined
"Not yet kiddo," Jack said wildly looking around for the paramedics. "You just need to stay awake for a bit longer ok, then you can sleep – I promise."
"I'm so cold Jack, why is it so cold?" Danny asked as he began to stop shivering.
Jack realised Danny had stopped shivering and panicked slightly as he knew Danny had progressed into the second stage of hypothermia. Sitting down next to him, Jack wrapped his arm around Danny's shoulders wincing when he realised how cold Danny was. As Danny's head laid his head on Jack's shoulders, Jack found himself panicking again when he noticed Danny's eyes were closed again. "Danny," he called tapping Danny's head gently. "Did you go to the Mets game this weekend?"
"No," Danny slurred. "Went to the beach to watch Megan in a surf contest."
"That must have been fun, how did she do?" Jack asked feeling relived that Danny was still conscious.
"She got to the finals, but missed out on second place by point five of a point," Danny slurred as he closed his eyes again.
"Where is she now?" Jack asked as he tried to wipe the blood from Danny's face.
"DC," Danny replied as he tried to fight off the overwhelming urge to slip into the blissful, pain free state of unconsciousness.
Realising Danny was getting heavier on his shoulder; Jack looked around for the paramedics again. Where the hell were they? What was taking so long? Didn't they realise how urgently they needed their services? Jack realised how little he knew about his agent's lives as he tried to think about something that didn't involve the work or the past, as he fought to keep Danny conscious. "So are there wedding bells on the horizon?" Jack asked.
"I don't know, maybe," Danny replied as his words became more slurred as the affects of hypothermia and shock began to take hold of him.
"Come on Danny you have to stay awake," Jack pleaded. "Everything is going to be all right but you just have to stay awake for a bit longer."
"To tired… want to sleep," Danny replied as he began to let his body give in to the battle against the blissful pain free darkness.
"No Danny no you can't do this to me," Jack cried as Danny slumped against him. "Please Danny. Don't give up. Don't let that bastard win. Please Danny you're nothing like your father. I'm sorry that I have been a jerk recently," Jack gently tapped Danny's face and with shaky fingers he checked for a pulse. "Hang on a bit longer, Danny-boy. Everything is going to be alright."
Martin stood nervously and looked around. Danny was dying and it was his fault. He knew something was up – Danny had been so distracted recently and he knew it hadn't just been because of his brother's murder – there was something else. He knew Danny was on death's door because Jack was having a hard job keeping it together – Jack never lost control.
"You keep fighting, Danny. I swear I will hunt your father down and do whatever you want to be done with him," Jack whispered, fighting to keep it together. He heard a siren and looked up and sighed in relief.
"What the hell took you so long?" Jack barked as the paramedic jogged towards them.
"I'm sorry sir but the traffic was gridlocked," one of the paramedic said as he dropped down next to Danny and Jack. "What have we got?"
"Danny Taylor, had a run in with assailant and was in that building shortly before it blew up," Jack said pointing the destroyed top floor. "He was conscious and fairly alert until a few minutes ago."
"We've got it from here."
"Okay," Jack replied as reluctantly as he let go of Danny's unconscious form. He closed his eyes and slowly forced him to stand up. He looked across at his other agent – who stood still as though he was frozen to the spot. "Martin," Jack said as he approached Martin, he shot a quick glance back at Danny. "Martin, are you okay?"
Martin shivered a little as he felt the cool air bite into his wet clothes. He should've noticed something was wrong before. He should've pulled Danny out of the river before he did. He was going to kill that bastard who did this to Sam and Danny. He found himself unconsciously pulling his hand into a fist and bunched his other hand. No one did this to his friends and got away with it – no one. He turned and started to walk towards the car. His thoughts were to give a severe case of lead poisoning to whoever did this to his friends. He found a strong set of hands on his shoulders stopping him. "Piss off Jack, I need to find and kill that bastard."
"That's great Martin, but you don't even know who did this," Jack said calmly. He closed his eyes again as the memories of last May came back. How Danny was the one telling him that he was going to hunt down and kill the people that hurt his friend – the only different was this time, Martin was saying those words and Danny was the one injured.
"No Jack you don't understand – I can't believe that you are going to let this bastard get away with it," Martin yelled.
"You really think that I would let this person get away with it?" Jack yelled as he slammed Martin against the car, shaking him. "You go with Danny and while you're there, get yourself checked out." With that he pushed Martin towards the ambulance.
As Danny was wheeled passed him, he gently squeezed his shoulder. "You are nothing like your father, Danny. You know that, don't you? I promise you that I'll sort this out, so you just hang in there," he whispered.
Jack turned and leaned against the car, as he watched the ambulance disappear. Feeling the events of the last few hours catch up with him, Jack pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt a headache coming on. Martin was right, he couldn't just stand here and let that bastard of a father get away with what he did to Sam and Danny. With his job, he thought he had seen the worst that human nature has to offer and then Marco Alvarez entered his life. Feeling anger and frustration boil to an almost uncontrollable levels, Jack turned and punched the car – regretting it the moment his fist connected with the cold, hard metal. Leaning against the car, he held his head in his hands. He was the supervising agent, he was the boss, and he was the one that had to be in control – yet he wasn't.
Knowing Martin wasn't in the right state of mind to tell Viv and Sam what had just happened, he pulled out his cell phone and called Viv – wondering what he was going to tell her.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Washington DC
Same time
"I really think this man would make a good intelligence asset," Mark Reins, a DEA agent, said in the lightly lit conference room.
Megan sat at the far end of the room thinking that Mark Reins was lucky he wasn't sitting anywhere near her, for if he was – she would've have slapped him for even thinking about it. She tightened her grip around the pencil that she was twirling around her fingers – forcing herself to remain calm. But as the pencil snapped, she knew she was fighting a losing battle.
"You think that scumbag would be a good intel asset?" Megan said as she glared at Mark. "Sorry. We are talking about the same person, right? Drug lord and terrorist – his murders nearing the three-figure mark, has murdered an ATF agent. Not to mention the people he has tortured. He's a wife beater, he abused his kids – sorry he beat the crap out of them. How can you trust a person who beat the crap out of their three year old child?"
"I still believe he would make a good intelligence asset," Mark Reins nervously replied.
"Well I hate to break it to you buddy-boy – there is no way you are going to get approval. The ATF are going to – rightfully – scream and shout and dig their heels in – after all, he did murder one of their agents," Megan said as she forced herself to calm down and try to detach herself emotionally.
"Add the FBI to that strong objection," the stern figure of Special Agent Steve Brockbank said as he read the note that he had just been handed.
"Why?" Mark Reins asked as he began to sink farther into his chair.
"Because he tried to murder two FBI agents," Steve snapped.
"Where?" Megan asked quickly, but she had a feeling that she already knew the answer.
"New York – Samantha Spade and Danny Taylor."
Megan felt her blood freeze, not bothering to try and hide her emotions. She knew the majority of people in the room knew about her relationship with Danny. It was a form of blackmail – hell, she had read all of their files in detail, just to find a weakness that she could turn and use to her advantage. "Are they okay?" she asked her voice full of emotion.
"Spade had a minor concussion. I have no details on Taylor's condition – but he's alive."
Feeling as though someone had struck all of the air out of her lungs, Megan grabbed her bag and threw the files in. Swinging it over her shoulders, she started to move towards the door. "If anyone wants me, I will be on my cell," Megan called over her shoulder as she ran out of the room.
Barely knowing or caring how she got to her car or how she had navigated the infamous DC beltway, Megan found herself driving at speed up the New Jersey turnpike towards New York. She furiously dialled Danny's number followed by his team member's – but got no reply. Only causing her to drive faster.
"Pull over! You twat!" she yelled at the Ferrari driver that she was tailgating. As the Ferrari slowly pulled over, she put her foot hard to floor and rapidly ate up the miles that stood between her and Danny. Her cell phone rang – almost causing her to jump out of her skin.
"What!" she yelled, silently cursing herself for letting the whole situation get to her emotionally.
"Megan, it's Steve."
"Hey Steve. Sorry about that," Megan apologised.
"Don't worry about it," Steve replied. "Have you been able to get hold of Jack Malone or anyone else on his team?"
"No," Megan replied feeling sick with concern. "Why?"
"Well neither have we and no one knows were Jack Malone is."
"I will say again—WHY?" Megan said as she held the steering wheel with a death grip.
"Well, the FARC – you know that's the group that Jorgo Castano or Marco Alvarez to you and me, is involved with," Steve started.
"I know, I know get to the point," Megan replied sharply.
Usually he would've followed it by a comment such as blame on women's issues or the like – but not today. He like working with Megan, she was the kind of person that took no shit from anyone, but at the same time she was also the kind of person that would always give you a straight answer.
"Megan they say they have planted a bomb in Jack Malone's car."
TBC
