- - - - - - - - - Not Like Him - - - - - - - - -
Reese's wrists ached and the skin burned from prying at the ropes all afternoon. Her own bonds had taken long enough; Seth's felt even more difficult with fatigue setting in. They'd gone almost 24 hours now without food or water, and she felt a growing sense of urgency to make them disappear. Not outside, of course—human instinct in this kind of situation looked to be as far away as possible, leaving closer locations actually safe to hide in.
But she never she never got to test her thoughts. She was roughly halfway through Seth's bonds when a door slammed open, blocked form view by the van. Reese made out two familiar figures, one thin and dark-haired, the other muscular and bald.
"Shane!"
The big ex-SEAL's head snapped up, followed by a look of horror at the condition of the two hostages.
"That's what happens when you don't follow the rules," Trenton said with a calm that was unnerving. He proceeded to tie Shane's handcuffs to one of the van's back door handles with a piece of rope, wherever that had come from. Then he strode out towards the center of the warehouse. "You did something—you told them something when I made contact to track me back here, you little traitor!"
Furious blows rained down on Reese, but she was ready. She ducked around and kicked, not where it counts, but low and angled to knock Trenton off balance. This gave her an opening to pull her hands free and strike back. She only managed one or two effective hits, though, before Trenton caught her in a headlock with one arm, and trap both of her hands behind her back with the other.
"Nice try, love. Such an appropriate action to back up your attitude. Now you get a front row seat to watch Plummer pay for it." He wrestled Reese around her now-empty chair.
"Trenton, wait!" Shane tried fervently to free himself, but his efforts went completely unnoticed.
Seth only had enough time to look up before a vicious kick sent him and his chair in different directions. The rope was still tangled around his wrists, leaving him no chance to defend himself.
Reese had to close her eyes to the muffled thumps of Trenton's foot against Seth's already fragile body. After the third or forth one, there was a dull crack, and Seth's sudden cry of pain. If Trenton didn't let up soon, Seth was going to die…
"WAIT!" Shane bellowed from the van. "You still haven't tried to code yet. Don't you want to be sure you have what you want before you go dispensing of your leverage?"
The older boy finally stopped, staring owlishly, as if surprised that Shane was still there. "Why? Have you deceived me as well? There's a rule for that." He tightened his hold on Reese until her breath came in gasps. "I'd have to punish you, of course. But I've found it even more effective when you know your choices caused pain for someone else, someone you care about." He glanced down at Seth's motionless form. "It's the price you pay for crossing me, as Agent Bryant knows well, doesn't she?" He laughed when the girl couldn't gain the breath to protest.
"Let her go!" demanded Shane. "If there's anything wrong from here on out, it's between you and me."
"As you wish." Trenton flung Reese to the side. At the same time, a concealed gun fell out from under the boy's jacket to the floor. He took no notice. Reese had one hand on her neck and the other on her ankle, but otherwise seemed fine. The only sign of life from Seth was shallow, almost asthmatic breathing. He was probably unconscious.
"I have nothing to hide," Shane told their captor.
"I hope you don't," Trenton retorted darkly. "The consequences are adding up quickly. What's the code?" He covered Shane with the gun that remained in his hand.
"First you have to power the system back up, it'll've shut down by now. The switch is on the right side, and that'll take a couple minutes to come up. When the panel above the keypad is blue, press 'open.' That unlocks the keypad. Then you punch the code in, press 'enter,' and stand back. The lock swings out before the safe itself opens, and many a man has been caught unawares by it."
Shane allowed himself a smile; Trenton had disappeared inside the van as soon as the directions had started, which also allowed him to slip out the pen he'd been left with earlier. The tip was long and sturdy, a perfect tool for levering open a chain link in his handcuffs. Meanwhile, Trenton tapped the exterior of the safe impatiently.
"And what is the code, for the last time?" he called harshly.
Shane took a deep breath. He really had no idea. "17, 91, 68," he strung out so Trenton could get it all down. Then there was silence. Shane worked furiously at the thin metal link. Just a little farther… He hadn't quite made it, however, when a hoarse roar sounded from inside the van. Trenton stormed out, slammed Shane against the door he was bound to, and pointed the gun in his face.
"What'ja do, huh? You think this is a game?"
"I know it's not a game, Trenton, calm down. I must have memorized something wrong, then," Shane covered almost faster than his mind could think it up a cover. "We have time, and the safe won't lock down if we keep trying—let's just mess around with the digits a little. I'm sure I wasn't far off."
The squeal of tires could be heard not too far outside the building. Trenton glared at him. "Liar! You've just been playing for time! I can't get away now, not with the CIA teams sitting outside…unless they're preoccupied. And three hostages bleeding to death will undoubtedly keep them occupied.
"You were trained well; you can take pain and cover for others without fear. I admire that. But you've also revealed your choice, and through that, your weakness, which will be just as effective a punishment. You will watch me kill them, and then die knowing you failed your mission in every possible sense. I bid you farewell, Shane Wolfe."
Trenton turned to briskly round the van, pistol raised. Galvanized by desperation born of that final threat, Shane thrust his foot out and tripped the boy. The gun misfired into the air. Trenton's momentum broke the bent link in Shane's handcuffs as they both went down. It was Trenton who recovered first. He was running for Seth…Shane wasn't going to be able to catch him…armed men were bursting in all over the place…
BANG-BANG!
…Trenton fell back, spread-eagled, on the floor of the warehouse, a double-tap stamped red on his chest. All movement in the building stopped.
Reese was standing awkwardly just outside the now-bright pool of light on the floor. The six-hour Trenton had dropped was shaking in her hands. A tear rolled slowly down her dirty face. As Shane moved towards her, she dropped the gun, dropped to her knees, and crawled to her dead captor.
"Reese…?"
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she was whispering. Tears flowed freely now, and with a sob, she buried her face in Trenton's blood-stained shirt. Confused murmurs began to circle through the task force around them.
"Reese, it's over. You're safe again," Shane said quietly.
"I couldn't let you do it again," she choked, still ignoring everyone else. "I couldn't let Seth die like my parents did. sniff I never hated you j-just because I liked him, you know. It just all became too much." Her sobs intensified. "Now I've bec-come just like you—a thief, a liar…and a m-m-murderer. God, please forgive me!" She broke down completely.
Shane got down slowly beside her, trying to comfort the trembling girl. "You did what you had to do, for all of us. That makes you nothing like him." Reese jumped at first when he touched her, then gradually accepted his company. Meanwhile, a couple of the task soldiers had turned their attention to Seth.
"Still breathing…he's in bad shape, though. Look at the bruises alone."
"They're both in bad shape. Get an ambulance and the ME down here."
Shane carried Reese to the warehouse door so Trenton's body was out of sight. But he ended up settling for just inside—media crews had already gotten wind of the situation, and were all camped out on the street. The last thing needed right now was overenthusiastic reporters spotting an injured girl.
Minutes passed. Reese fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion against Shane's arm, to his relief. Decent rest would do her more good than anything else at the moment. Finally, Tanner himself stepped inside.
"No, keep 'em out. We've still got the kids to evac, I won't have them disturbed by any blood-sucking reporters. They've been through well more than enough as it is. Oh, there, you are." The supervisor realized who was right at his feet. He paused at the sight of Reese's dirt-and blood-streaked face. "How're they doin'?"
"Resting, mostly," Shane answered. "I think Seth's stable for now. They say he's lost a fair amount of blood. The whole thing is more complicated than we thought, though. How much, we'll have to see when she's debriefed. I think it's safe to say very little can be taken at face value."
Tanner nodded. "EMTs are working on the most discreet route. Should be here in a few more minutes. Scene's been processed and the body moved until the ME's truck can make a similar appearance."
"So the ME's here, but not his truck?" It was the first thing Shane had heard in a long time that he found remotely funny. He certainly didn't mind having a lighter note to end on.
Someone caught Tanner's attention on his earwig. "Ambulance is here, over by the north door. Only one news guy there—best we could do, I'm afraid. Let's get these kids outta here."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
After the constant bustle of housing a command outpost for the CIA, Zoe found the quiet almost unnerving. They were left with no way to receive updates on the situation. What was happening to her brother? It had been over 24 hours now…
More of a reflex than a decision, she turned on the TV simply to have a noise to fill the emptiness in the house. The evening news was wrapping up. Zoe was about to change the channel when a late-breaking story came up.
"…Not much information is going to be available, I'm afraid, but there has definitely been an incident here on the Southside tonight. Federal officers have been in force in the area for the past hour or so, and it appears they have been dealing with a hostage situation. Two people were already removed from the scene a few minutes ago, and the officers seem to be waiting on more arrivals. Again, no IDs or details are being released at this time, the feds are keeping everything under wraps, but it does look like they've had a very serious situation—"
The doorbell ringing made Zoe jump a mile. All three of the younger Plummers were already racing for the door.
"Shane!"
Zoe sprang up, nearly colliding with her mother in the front hall. It was, indeed, the ex-SEAL walking into the house. His face was tired, drawn, and his clothes had traces of—to Zoe's horror—blood.
"Shane, what's happened?" Mrs. Plummer asked nervously.
The big man took a deep breath. Uh-oh. "First, let me explain it all before you jump to conclusions. I'm here to take you to Bethesda Hospital.
"The good news is everything important has been recovered. The computer's still intact, and both Reese and Seth are safe. They were in pretty bad shape when we got to 'em, though. Turns out the agency's had run-ins with Trenton before, and he's capable of a lot in 24 hours. Reese is pretty shaken up about the whole thing—shot 'im in defense of all three of us." The look on his face told the older ones present that it had been fatal.
Mrs. Plummer clapped a hand to her mouth. The younger kids peppered Shane with questions. Zoe was simply stunned, so much so that she sat down on the bottom stairs to the second floor. Trenton was the one behind this? And now he was dead? It didn't make any sense to her numb brain. To accept this news would be to accept that her entire relationship of the past two months was a lie. Trenton had used her to get close to her dad's work. But then again, Reese had done the same thing. So what did that make her? Shock was not the word. Nothing in the world seemed to be real anymore. The more Zoe thought about her supposed boyfriend, the more emotions were stirred up. And yet she couldn't hate him—
"Honey? Are you okay?"
Zoe took one look at her mom and burst into tears. "I just don't know what to think anymore! Everyone around here has secrets and lies and you can't seem to trust 'em no matter what they tell you next. I mean, look at Reese! How could she stand being here for two months with Trenton sneaking around if she was after him all along? No, she let it go until he could really hurt people, and now she's supposed to be the hero. I'm sick of all this stuff happening to our family!"
"Shh. It's hard, I know. Remember, Shane said they didn't know the identity of their target, only a description and a pattern of movements and behavior. The rest of the story won't be clear until they can talk to Reese. For now, let's just go to the hospital and see your brother."
The wait was agonizing, whether at the house or in the waiting room. Seth was still in surgery when they arrived. There had been complications when he reacted badly to an antibiotic. Reese had already transferred to a semi-private room, though she was not allowed visitors until her superiors cleared it. An agent stood guard outside the door.
One hour passed, then two, without further word on Seth's condition. Claire joined them in the waiting room, and soon helped make Peter, Tyler, and a reluctant Lulu comfortable as they fell asleep. Shane tried to reason with the agents present to at least update Mrs. Plummer, to little avail. Zoe continued her inward struggle to understand the tangled web that had come to light. If one couldn't trust what anyone else said, what was left?
The clock showed five 'til eleven when the doors to Trauma One opened. Zoe jumped as her mother sped towards the bed now being wheeled out. She was stopped by two CIA representatives, who likewise held Shane back.
"I just want to see my son," Julie Plummer begged tiredly.
"You will soon enough, ma'am," replied the first man. A doctor peered concernedly at them.
"C'mon, guys," Shane chided. "The poor woman's dealt with 'im missing for over 24 hours. He's got nothing to do with your job. Cut some slack."
"Mom…?" came a low moan. Seth was stirring. His mom took the opportunity to blow past them all and reach the bedside.
"I'm here sweetheart. It's all going to be okay."
"Mom…" Seth was barely conscious. His eyes were partially open, but they didn't focus on anything.
"It's me, I'm right here. What's wrong with him?"
The doctor gently pulled her a couple steps away so the bed could continue down the hall. "He's disoriented right now, Mrs. Plummer—I'm assuming that you're his mother?" He waited for her to nod. "The anesthetic we use wears off quickly once a patient is taken off it. Jean?"
A nurse following Seth's entourage stopped and turned.
"Give him half a dose of sedative, just to be careful. I don't want him moving yet if we can help it. Thanks."
"Why half a dose? What's happened to my son?"
"We can't risk lowering his heart rate too much right now," the doctor replied. He held up a hand to the approaching CIA reps. "This is my call, gentlemen. I have an obligation to tell the parent or legal guardian. Please excuse us. I've placed your son's condition as critical but stable. There were three broken ribs, one of which needed a pin for support in the healing process. Some of the deeper topical wounds were in the early stages of infection, but treatment will easily take care of that. The only concern I have right now is head trauma. There were a number of serious blows to the head and neck, and we'll have to conduct further tests to make sure there's no irreversible damage. Don't be discouraged about it, though; he's really doing quite well for the gravity of the situation. A little dehydrated, but I expect he'll make a full recovery."
"Thank you." Shane had appeared out of nowhere to lend a comforting arm to the overwhelmed Mrs. Plummer. "When will we be able to see him?"
"I know this has been a trying ordeal, but can you give the agency until about midmorning? I've already told them they can't speak to Reese before she wakes up tomorrow. She's become hysterical every time she was fully awake tonight. Both teens will be kept under tight watch until this whole thing is wrapped up. Please be patient with them."
Zoe watched her mom nod to show she understood, though her emotions lay just under the surface.
"Now," the doctor continued, "we do have a couple rooms for families who need to stay overnight, especially in cases like this. But there isn't room for all of you."
"You stay, Mom." Zoe stood for the first time in two hours. "I'll help Claire and Shane take the others home, and we'll come back tomorrow."
Her mom hugged her tightly. "Thanks, hon. I'll call your cell phone if anything happens. Try to get some sleep."
"You too. 'Night."
"Goodnight."
"You know, Zoe," Claire said quietly as they loaded up the sleeping kids, "Sometimes life seems to leave you without anywhere to turn. That doesn't mean there isn't a way left. You just have to find it in your heart…and give others the same chance."
Zoe bit her lip. As much as her emotions didn't want to believe those words, she knew that maybe, deep down, there was some truth to them.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
After awhile, Reese simply lost track of what was reality and what was the dream world. Or nightmare, as was probably more fitting. She relived both the deaths of her parents and Trenton, thought she saw hospital rooms of the past and present, and couldn't seem to fully escape no matter what she did. These visions alternated with patches of nothingness, which were not so much relief as just blanks in her memory.
She did recall one particularly vivid image before finally sinking into a deep sleep. Everything was blurred except for Seth, who was being rolled in on yet another white bed. He was weakly struggling despite the figures in attendance around him. Reese wanted so badly to reach out and calm him. He'd already done that so many times for her. But even as she watched, something was injected into his arm. His movements quieted. Then the blurred shapes of people shielded him from view, and darkness finally took Reese's overwrought mind.