Frannie's Lament
by Tanya Reed
Thank you to Britduck and Sarai for your reviews!
I don't know if I've mentioned this, but this story was partially written because the women on Due South almost never got to have any of the fun.
Disclaimer: Due South does not belong to me. I lay no claim on it or any of its characters. I write this story for fun and not for profit.
------------------------
Frannie was sure they were going to die. After managing to get through three groups of men, all with guns, it was going to end here. She and Meg were barricaded behind a small table, four feet away from a door that led outside. Frannie's gun had been spent long before, and Meg's ammunition was low. Each thunk against the wood standing between her and death made Frannie jump, and even Meg was looking pale.
"There's not going to be anything left of this pretty soon," she commented.
Meg nodded grimly, taking a peek over the table. Wooden chunks sprayed them, prickling Frannie's skin.
"All right, Frannie," Meg said firmly, "when I count to three, I want you to make a run for it."
"But..."
"Do it. I wan't let them shoot you."
Frannie hesitated before gathering her courage and bunching her muscles.
"Ready?"
"I think so."
"One..." Frannie shifted. "...two..." She poised on the brink of motion. "...three!"
Meg rose up and fired, and Frannie made a break for the door. She heard the gunshots behind her but didn't have time to wonder which were Meg and which weren't. When she reached the door, she threw it open and raced outside. There, she stopped, unsure which direction to run in.
Behind her, the door slammed shut and Frannie gasped, expecting to feel a bullet rip through her back. Instead, she heard laboured breathing as someone rushed towards her.
Frannie turned. "Aren't you supposed to be shooting?"
"Out of bullets. Got three of the bastards, though. Now, move."
Deciding it was in her best interest to listen, Frannie dove to the left, Meg right behind.
-------------------------
The estate was huge. Of course, Ray Kowalski had known that when they drove up the long driveway the last time they were there, but now they were walking the perimeter and the grounds seemed endless.
They had arrived at the estate an hour before and, after hiding their car, Fraser had suggested they walk the fence looking for another way in. That had been the bulk of his plan. Break into the estate, find the agents, and then break out. Simple, but the simplest plans were the best. At least, Fraser thought so. It didn't feel simple to Ray. He shifted the pack on his back slightly. Why did he always have to be the pack horse?
The walk passed mostly in silence, each of the men lost in thought. Kowalski, himself, was worried about not getting there in time. Though none of them had voiced the fact that Frannie might already be dead, it was never far from his mind. He tried not to let it have any power, but it scared him to death. Ray didn't know if he could stand to lose Frannie again, to lose her without telling her how he felt.
"Look, a gate." Vecchio's voice tore Ray from his thoughts and he once more put his worry on hold.
The three of them hurried forward and peered through the bars. Nearby, a small wooden building, like those sometimes erected for children to wait for the bus in, stood deserted. Ray's eyes roamed the visible scenery for the missing guard, but everything remained silent.
"Do you think it's a trick?" Ray whispered to Fraser, who shook his head.
"I don't think so, Ray. How would they know we were coming?"
"So, should we try here, Benny?"
"Yes. Rope."
Kowalski slung the pack to the ground and opened it. He scrounged around and found the rope he had been lugging. Wordlessly, he handed it to Fraser, who looped it around his waist. Then, the Mountie walked up to the solid, very thick, brick wall. He searched the rough surface for a hand hold and began to climb. As Vecchio shaded his eyes to watch Fraser effortlessly move up the wall, Ray nervously looked around, waiting for irate dogs or guards to come bursting out of the nearby trees, but the silence remained unbroken.
When Fraser reached the top, he took the rope from his waist and efficiently affixed it to one of the wall's cruel looking spikes, then he gracefully dropped to the other side. Vecchio took that as his cue and grabbed the rope. He was a lot less graceful and a good deal more noisy as he slowly clambered up the rope. There was a precarious moment as he got stuck on a spike, then he too was up and over.
Kowalski put the gloves on he had brought just for this instance. He rubbed his hands together, getting the feel of the leather.
Ray looked through the bars to see Vecchio glaring at him. "Are you coming?"
"Yah. Hold yer socks."
He ignored Vecchio's snort and grabbed a hold of the rope. The climb was harder than Ray expected, and he had to struggle to reach the top. Once there, he pulled himself over, avoiding Vecchio's spike. First he dropped the pack down and watched as Fraser caught it, then he lowered himself down. He dangled off the top for a moment, swinging his legs, before he let go.
"Oof," came from him as he landed hard on his feet and fell backwards.
"Try to stay upright, Kowalski," growled Vecchio.
"Shut up, Vecchio."
"Ray, Ray, please," Fraser admonished, opening up the pack. Out of it he took three walkie talkies. Two of these he handed to Kowalski and Vecchio, secreting the last one on his belt. The pack, he hid behind a bush to retrieve when they returned.
"Okay, guys," Kowalski announced, "pick a direction."
"I'll take left."
"Great, Vecchio. I'll take right. That leaves straight for you, Frase. Dat okay?"
"Certainly, Ray."
Then, the three of them shared a look before each gave a nod and turned to walk away.
--------------------
Meg and Frannie quietly crept throught the grounds. Since leaving the house, they had been avoiding small groups of men, all intent on finding and killing them. Francesca looked scared to death, Meg noted, but she was performing flawlessly. Her fear didn't seem to be affecting her thinking in the least. Meg, herself, felt vulnerable. Ever since her gun ran out of bullets, she kept imainging a great big bull's eye on her back.
There seemed to be an unlimited number of henchmen. What had, as Angelique, seemed like a group of men small enough to know all the faces of, now seemed like an army.
"How many of them do you think there are?" Frannie whispered, as if reading her mind.
"There are fifty-three in all, though normally only around thirty are actually on the estate. However, these are special circumstances."
Frannie grimaced, but just asked, "Which direction do we go? I was always bad at geology."
Meg opened her mouth to say something scathing then snapped it shut again. Now was not the time. After taking a deep breath, she answered calmly, "Well, the riding trail goes south, further onto the estate, remember? That's that way. We want to go in the opposite direction, north, which is this way."
Frannie nodded and was going to speak when Meg shushed her. Voices, faint but getting stronger, were coming in their direction. Already hidden behind some maple trees, they became very still.
Soon, two men came into view, both large with dark hair and dark eyes. The largest of the two had a haggard face and scars running up and down his huge arms. His nose looked as if it had been broken several times; his mouth was hardened into a perpertual line. The smaller one was handsome, and the features that looked scrambled on his companion somehow worked on him. He looked nicer, almost softer, but there was a snakelike coldness to his eyes that told the lie in that expression. Meg recognized them as the Weber brothers. She also noticed that each had a gun in his hand. They walked so close to Meg and Frannie's hiding place that the women could have reached out to touch them. As Meg watched, all she could think of was how much more confident she'd feel with one of those guns in her hand. Her mind had a quick debate of agression against caution. After a moment, one of them won and she dove forward, knocking Shirley Weber to the ground.
From the corner of her eye, Meg saw Frannie gape, but soon lost sight of the Italian in her struggles with the older and larger Weber.
She had managed to knock the gun from Shirley's hand before he broke free and lashed out. His big fist hit Meg squarely in the face, and she fell sideways. Pain laced through her cheek, but she ignored it as the big man followed her.
"Bitch!" he growled, pinning her and preparing to hit her again.
Angrily, Meg drove her knee up into his stomach. When his grip loosened, she tore her hand away and shoved the palm hard into his nose. Blood sprayed her, and he let out a roar. Not giving him time to recover, she lifted her head and slammed it into the nose she had just broken. Shirley grunted and collapsed on top of her.
Swearing under her breath, Meg shifted Weber off of her body and looked around for Frannie. Nearby, the small American had jumped on Russell Weber's back and was pounding the top of his head with her fist. Her other arm was wrapped tightly around his neck, and he was trying to shake her off. So far, Frannie and been able to avoid his grasping hands. Being unable to grab her was making him angry, and Meg thought he was getting close to pounding his back against a tree to lose Frannie.
After making sure Shirley was still out, Meg went behind Russell and kicked him in the back of the knee. He tumbled forward, Frannie holding on for dear life.
Once they hit the ground, Frannie let go and scrambled out of Russell's way. It was just in time, as he rolled over onto his back just a second behind her. She was still in arms length, though, and he reached for her. He caught her arm, but Frannie twisted away. Meg knelt to help and narrowly missed being clunked by a large rock when Frannie's hand whizzed by. The air whooshed by her head and stopped abruptly.
Russell grunted and Frannie hit him again. That was all it took for him to join his brother in unconsciousness.
"Good shot," Meg told her, grabbing the gun from his lifeless hand and handing it to Frannie.
"Thanks."
Meg then went and retrieved the other gun from close by. "All right, Frannie. Let's see about getting us out of here."
