"Gil?!" Malcolm panicked. There was no way he was going to be able to do CPR while Gil was still wearing his vest. But given the bullet's placement, it would be incredibly risky to move him. He reached out and checked the lieutenant's pulse with blood-covered fingers, and breathed a sigh of relief when he felt it. "Come on, Gil. I need you to open your eyes."
Sirens wailed in the distance, as Captain Martinez and his wife watched the scene before them in shock.
Malcolm pushed down harder, unable to get accurate pressure against the wound with the vest beneath his hands. There had to be blood pooling under the vest. It was everywhere. So much. He could see the flashing lights outside the bedroom window. "They're here. Just hold on."
The medics rushing down the hallway sounded like a stampeding herd. They entered in a frenzy. Malcolm stepped back out of their way as one of them laid a bodyboard on the ground next to Gil.
"Got a pulse, but it's slowing," he announced to the room, while another was already cutting the vest off of Gil. Again, everything moved in slow motion. When they pulled off the vest, Gil's sweater was completely saturated. Trails of pooled crimson fell down his sides.
"How long has he been unconscious?" The third EMT asked Malcolm, pulling him from his daze.
"Uh, only a few minutes. Less than three," he suddenly remembered that the captain and his wife were still restrained. "Do you have a knife? Scissors?"
The medic reached into his bag and handed Malcolm a set of scissors. He knelt in front of them and clipped the ties.
The EMTs moved Gil onto the board.
"Thank you, officer…?" Captain Martinez inquired.
"Not an officer," he stood and returned the scissors. "My name's Malcolm Bright. I consult with Gil's unit."
"You're a profiler."
He nodded in response to the captain's observation.
One of the medics turned to Malcolm, "You riding with us?"
"Yes."
They lifted the lieutenant and were on the move. Once they reached the first floor they laid Gil on the gurney and hurried to the ambulance.
The sun had breached the horizon. The blue and purple haze that covered the street when they entered the home was now a golden yellow and orange.
He followed the EMTs into the back of the vehicle. Two police cars screeched to a stop behind them, as they pulled away, to aid the captain. Malcolm watched the medics work. Oxygen, heart rate checks, pressure on the wound. They were talking to each other; he could register that much. But the details of their conversation were white noise. All he could do was stare at his father's face.
One of the medics glanced over at Malcolm, and did a double take, before sitting down beside him. "You're injured too?"
"What?" The profiler looked down at his hands and tried to wipe Gil's dried blood on his jeans. "Oh, this isn't mine," he answered.
The medic pointed at his arm and the saturated sleeve of his shirt, "But, that is."
Malcolm followed the man's eyeline, genuinely confused. "Shit. Yeah. I forgot."
The man lifted his arm and pulled the cut fabric back, inspecting the wound. "Definitely going to need sutures. Finger mobility?"
Malcolm wiggled his fingers.
"That's a good sign. Switchblade?" He guessed.
"Kitchen knife."
"Well, at least it was a smooth blade. Stitching shouldn't be too terrible."
Malcolm ignored the medic's comment, turned, and continued watching the other men work on Gil. "He's going to make it. Right?"
Before the man could answer, the ambulance stopped. They must have called ahead. As soon as they were completely still, the doors flew open and a team of doctors were waiting for Gil. Malcolm jumped out and quickly moved to the side. The EMTs began to relay vitals and GSW details to the doctors.
"Bullet went straight through the kevlar. No exit wound…"
Malcolm tilted his head to the side. He'd been so focused on helping Gil, that he hadn't even considered the reality of the situation. That bullet completely penetrated Gil's vest. There was only one possible explanation for it: the missing cartridges.
He followed the small crowd of people and the gurney into the emergency room entrance. The adrenaline from the fight, from seeing Gil wounded on the ground and trying to save him had only just started to fade. Now, the anger that mixed with it somehow managed to focus his mind. He pulled the phone from his pocket; a spider web of cracks littered the top left corner, from the altercation in the kitchen.
He called Dani. It went straight to voicemail. Nausea immediately overwhelmed him.
She could've turned it off when they got to JT's for safety, he attempted to talk himself down.
You know she only puts it on silent, in case she needs to call in an emergency. She never turns it completely off, his psyche countered.
Malcolm kept following the procession absent-mindedly, as he dialed JT's phone. When they reached a set of double doors one of the doctors touched his shoulder.
"Sir, you can't go any further. I'm sorry," her eyes were genuinely apologetic, as she noticed the cut on his arm. "But, that needs immediate attention anyway. So, right this way."
The nurse, a young man who looked to be in his early twenties named Derek, rolled the stool he was sitting on over to the table at which Malcolm was seated. The profiler's injured arm was laying across it. He paid it no mind, as he desperately tried to get in contact with JT or Dani. He'd called them both multiple times with no response. The clock on his phone read 5:48, almost two hours since they'd left the precinct, since he'd heard from Dani. His gut told him something was wrong. He needed to get out of there.
Derek investigated the cut and raised his head, "Okay if I cut this sleeve?"
"Whatever gets me out of here the fastest," Malcolm responded. After noticing the nurse's response he backpedaled, "Sorry. Rough morning."
"Anything before 6am is rough. Much less this," his scissors cut the fabric around Malcolm's bicep, above the bloodstains. The sleeve dropped to his wrist, revealing the four-inch wound that angled down diagonally. The nurse inspected it closely, "You're a cop right? Bust gone wrong?"
"You could say that," he sighed, rubbing his forehead. "My boss is in surgery and my partners are MIA. I need to make sure they're okay. How long will this take?"
Derek eyed the wound again, "I'd say 8-10 stitches, plus cleaning and dressing. Half an hour, ballpark."
The profiler pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to contain his frustration.
"Or."
Malcolm's head popped up, "Or."
"I clean this thoroughly, wrap it well enough to last you until you can get in touch with your team. And you come back tonight."
He smiled gratefully, "Deal."
Malcolm thanked Derek, as he finished wrapping his forearm. His phone buzzed and a message appeared on the screen; his mother was in the waiting room. When he stood to exit, he stumbled a bit, lightheaded.
Derek looked concerned, "Concussion you forgot to disclose?"
Malcolm couldn't help but chuckle, "Honestly, probably. But, I think this particular culprit is lack of food."
"When was the last time you ate?"
He looked at his watch, "Nine hours ago. And an embarrassingly longer time prior to that."
"If I were you, I'd get something in my system before I headed out to save the day," Derek suggested.
"I will. Thank you."
Malcolm made his way out to the waiting room. Jessica was up and at his side just a few steps after he'd appeared.
"What's going on?" She eyed his wrapped arm.
"It's just a cut. I'll be fine," he assured her. "Gil's still in surgery. I haven't heard anything yet."
"Okay."
"Dani and JT are MIA. I need to find them. Stay here with Gil. Call me as soon as you hear anything."
"I will," Jessica pulled Malcolm into a hug, reminding him how sore his body was, from the fight, from the withdrawal. Everything ached.
"Did you bring the car?" he asked.
"Oh. Yes. Here," Jessica handed him the keys. "Third floor of the garage."
"Thank you."
Malcolm rushed out the door and to the garage elevator. Again, he called Dani. Again, it went straight to voicemail. His stomach churned. Something was wrong. He clicked the button on the key ring to help find the car. When he was a little over halfway to it, he lurched forward, the stabbing pain in his abdomen once again rearing its ugly head. Malcolm managed to keep from crying out, breathing through the anguish as best he could, until he made it to the car. Once he was inside, he didn't hold it in any longer. His head rested against the steering wheel, while he wrapped his arms around himself and pulled his legs up to his chest. And he screamed.
You're stronger than the pain. Just breathe.
Dani's voice echoed in his head.
Malcolm wasn't sure how much time had passed. But as soon as the pain had eased enough to permit him to drive, he lowered his feet, ready to start the car. He was about to turn the key, when his phone buzzed.
Please be Dani, he begged.
He groaned. Another text from UNKNOWN. Malcolm's hands trembled as he opened the message. All the air left his lungs in one agonizing exhale. His throat tightened painfully, as his lips quivered, as the image appeared. Slowly, his eyes closed, giant tears spilling out when they did.
It was Dani. On her knees, arms behind her back, and tape covering her mouth. A trail of blood ran from a wound on the side of her forehead down her cheek. The barrel of a gun was just visible, disappearing into the dark curls beside her face.
Malcolm stared at the photo, terror engulfing every part of him. A fresh wave of nausea hit. He barely got the door open in time to turn and heave out of the side of the car. Then, he sat up and laid his head back against the rest.
Malcolm, you're in love with this woman, are you not?
Yes.
We have overcome too much to start losing faith now.
I need you to stay.
Is it serious?
It is for me.
I love you.
Tears flooded his cheeks and he screamed once more. This time in anger, in fear, in utter and complete despair.
The phone in his hand buzzed again, the second text he'd been waiting for.
Another address.
159 Bridge park Drive
Brooklyn
The marina.
Malcolm opened the picture of Dani again, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. He sent a quick message and sat the phone in the cup holder, before turning the ignition.
He couldn't help but think of the last time he'd driven to the marina. Truth be told he didn't remember a single moment from the drive. Even the events that happened once he arrived came and went in fragments. The rage he'd experienced in that moment was all-consuming. It controlled his every thought and action. Those same emotions surged through him now, but this time they were not in control. He was.
What was about to happen at the marina wouldn't be fueled by blinding rage and heartache. It would be calm and calculated. The end result of an animal cornered with no other way out except to fight for its life.
He would save Dani and protect the people that he loved at all costs.
This ends tonight.
A cold chill ran down Malcolm's spine as he pulled through the gate to the marina. He parked next to the building where Bennet had tortured Dani. Where he'd held a gun to their heads while interrogating them. As he pulled the vest over his head and fastened the velcro, he saw Dani in that moment. He saw the blood dripping down her chin as she stared at him, gasping for air she'd been denied. Malcolm closed his eyes, banishing the vision from his mind.
The marina was a completely different place when bathed in the warm glow of the morning sun. People were walking the piers, jogging, laughing with their companions. Malcolm walked by the place where he shot Damian. Staring at the space as he passed, he could practically see the car and Damian on the ground grabbing his leg. Malcolm reached the correct dock and turned, then pulled his weapon from its holster and crept slowly down the line of boats.
The small yachts in the slips on both sides created a corridor, hiding him from those on the pier. Malcolm assumed he was heading to the same slip, forty-six, in some morbidly poetic attempt on Joslynn's part to right his wrongs. However, the slip was still empty. When he reached the end of the dock he was confused. He hadn't realized it continued to the left, given it had been the middle of the night the last time he'd been here.
When Malcolm turned, he inhaled sharply. Dani was at the end of the dock, on her knees. And Joslynn stood next to her, aiming a gun at the back of her head. When he was about twenty feet away from them, Joslynn spoke.
"That's close enough."
Malcolm's eyes never left Dani. And his gun remained pointed at Joslynn.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
The tape had been removed from Dani's mouth, but her hands were still bound behind her. She tilted her head slightly and rolled her eyes as if to say, "Not really." Her stare lingered on his wrapped forearm, "Are you?"
His bottom lip jutted out in a nothing-to-worry-about nod.
Joslynn took the opportunity to join their conversation, "Yes. How are we feeling, Malcolm? A little itchy? Got the shakes? Migraines? Pain in the abdomen?"
He refused to encourage her banter and simply glared at her down the sight of his weapon.
"Did you use the third dose yet?"
Reflexively, he lowered his gaze, only for a second. But, that was all Joslynn needed.
"Oh, you did. Three doses in three days. So, you're really feeling it right now aren't you? Your drug test come back yet?"
"We both know I wouldn't be standing here if it did," he replied.
"True."
They stood in silence for a moment, before Malcolm broke it, "Let Dani go. Take out your vengeance on me. She's not responsible for what happened to Ezra. I am."
"I'm well aware of that," Joslynn seethed. "You're both here because I just can't decide who I want to watch bleed out on this dock. Killing Dani is obviously the option that causes you the most misery. See, I know a little something about the person you love being murdered. Being ripped away from you," her free hand went to her pregnant belly, "From our unborn son. You deserve worse than death Malcolm Bright. You deserve to watch the woman you love take her last breath, knowing you're the reason she's gone. You deserve to live the rest of your life with that gut wrenching anguish."
His pulse quickened as he frantically tried to think of a way to stop her before she could pull the trigger.
"On the other hand, the thought of you walking this Earth when Ezra is in the ground makes me violently ill. I'm not sure that's something I can live with for the rest of my life."
She raised her arm, aiming the gun at Malcolm now. Dani turned her body slightly, her eyes bouncing back and forth between the two of them.
"You got one in the chamber?" Joslynn inquired, curiously.
"Yep." Malcolm held his position, his hands uncharacteristically steady.
"Me too," she smiled. "And we both know mine's bigger than yours."
He knew exactly what the poor attempt at innuendo was referencing.
"How's your lieutenant? Did he survive?"
Dani's head whipped in Malcolm's direction, her eyes the size of saucers. "Gil?"
He wouldn't risk taking his eyes off of Joslynn. He didn't enjoy revealing any information to her either, but Dani deserved a response. "He was in surgery when I left."
"Before we do this," Joslynn began, ignoring their concern, "I just want to know one thing." She shifted her aim back toward Dani. To her forehead, since she had moved her position. "Did you intend to kill Ezra when you came here that night? Answer truthfully and Dani can go."
Malcolm looked at Dani, only for a second, then back at Joslynn. "Forgive me if I don't trust you'll keep that bargain."
Joslynn pulled a knife from her pocket, stepped behind Dani, and cut her wrist restraints, taking care to keep the gun against her head to ensure her compliance. "There."
Malcolm accepted the gesture, "He shot Dani in the back. I thought she'd died in my arms."
"Did you come here knowing you were going to kill my husband? Yes or no?"
He licked his lips before softly replying, "Yes."
She didn't look at Dani when she barked her command, "Go."
"I'm not leaving," she replied defiantly.
"Get out of here, Dani," Malcolm ordered. When she didn't move a muscle he cursed under his breath.
Tears spilled down Joslynn's cheeks, but her voice was steady when she spoke. "You know what this bullet is going to do to you at this range, Malcolm." It wasn't a question, merely a statement of fact. "You're a cold-blooded killer, right? Here's your chance to finish off the rest of the Bennet family. And save yourself." She held her arms open, completely unprotected. "You have five seconds to shoot me or I'm shooting you."
Dani stared in horror. Joslynn closed her eyes.
"Five."
Malcolm's pulse skyrocketed.
"Four."
His breaths were shallow and quick.
"Three."
His hands were steady.
"Two"
Because, he knew he had no intention of pulling the trigger. He couldn't shoot a pregnant woman, regardless of the repercussions. His eyes met Dani's and she knew.
"One"
Joslynn opened her eyes and she sneered, "I knew you didn't have it in you." She hesitated for only a second, then raised her arm, "I do."
Malcolm never looked away from Dani. He tried his best to convey everything she meant to him in one look. To silently tell her how much he loved her.
"NYPD!"
He turned his head at the sound of JT's voice.
Then, his entire body jerked. Dani's scream echoed in his head as he fell backward.
And everything went black.