A/N: So how did everyone do on the riddle? If you didn't get it, don't worry because the answer is revealed in this chapter. The poem titled 'Home' is dedicated to my fellow shipper buddy Auda, because I know she likes this poem :)
The velvet sky was dotted with countless white orbs that shimmered in the moonlight, which pooled through the clouds and onto the sleeping city. Inside the warehouse, all was quiet as the hostages could no longer keep their eyes open. Pratt let them sleep willingly; it gave him time to think of his own plans.
Reed barely moved as he slumbered, but Lindsay's mind would not let her rest. She moaned as her eyeballs thrashed around in their sockets. But it was no nightmare; she was in the midst of a wondrous and peaceful dream, despite the circumstances.
She stood at the edge of a vast wheatfield, the hot Montana sun burning down like a golden gem. A smile wandered across her lips; she missed her homestate dearly but had found a new life in New York. A woman's voice, soft and gentle, mingled with the light breeze, and Lindsay felt an air of security surround her.
As the flow'rs bloom in the garden,
Think of me on my travels,
Then look to the west and know,
'Tis I who'll be thinking of you.
Home, home, I will come home,
After these long seasons of wand'ring.
Home, home, no more to roam.
To rest by a roaring fire.
Watch for me entering the path,
Keep the door open as always,
You will see me o'er the hill,
Returning to you once again.
Whatever the season, whatever the day,
I will wander back to this place.
Home, home, I will come home,
After these long seasons of wand'ring,
Home, home, no more to roam,
To rest with the ones I love best.
---
My first is in water and also in war,
My second in ambush, battle and soar.
My third and fourth are in present and preach,
Five of line three, and at the start of reach.
My last make up but a single word,
Eight, fifteen, twenty-one, nineteen, five.
The team was stumped; Pratt had their hands tied. However, Mac was not willing to let him win. Disregarding the time, they sat around his desk and started to figure out the mysterious riddle. Every single person knew it was only a matter of time before sometime terrible happened to Lindsay and Reed.
"Alright," Mac instructed. "We'll take this one line at a time. Any ideas you have, throw it out there. We need everyone working together on this one."
Stella re-read the first line. "My first is in water and also in war. Let's do process of elimination. In both these words, the only prominent letters are w, a, and r. We know that the last five letters make up a word, so we'll deal with that later."
Hawkes nodded in agreement. "It can't be a, since the next line indicates that."
Danny scratched his head. Solving riddles was never his strong point. "I'm complete lost here, guys. We're going back and forth between verses."
Stella smiled faintly despite the situation. "Okay, the second line is a, since it's the only letter in all three words," She snatched a piece of paper from the recycling and started writing. "So a is the second line. Let's go back to the first. It obviously isn't a, and it doesn't make much sense to be r. Plus, it says my first. So the only assumption would be w, since it's the first letter in both words."
She scribbled the two letters on the paper. "Alright, we've got w and a. Let's move to the third line."
Flack studied the riddle carefully. "The next two are related. Five of line three. What does that mean?"
Mac spoke up. "It could be either letters or words. The former would be i; the latter would be are."
"Which," Stella pointed out. "Is pronounced like the letter. At the start of reach. The first two letters are r and e. Same with present and preach."
Danny snapped his fingers as realization dawned on him. "Put all four together and you've got ware."
A change of demeanour enveloped the room. Mac nodded to his colleagues, impressed with their skills. "Well done. We've solved half the puzzle. Now for the next part: My last make up but a single word. Eight, fifteen, twenty-one, nineteen, five."
A few moments passed, each person deep in their own thoughts. Danny cleared his mind of Lindsay and stared hard at the riddle. His eyes immediately lit up.
"But a single word…boom!" He wrote something down on the paper. The others leaned in curiously.
"House?" Mac inquired.
"There are five numbers given in the last line," Danny explained patiently. "Clearly it's five letters, so you just match the number with the corresponding letter." Again he drew on the paper and held up it for all to see:
Eight: H
Fifteen: O
Twenty-one: U
Nineteen: S
Five: E
Mac jumped up from his seat. "Warehouse!"
Any sense of accomplishment was washed away when Flack spoke up. "That's great and all, but specifically what warehouse? This is a large city; there are lots of them here."
As the team murmured amongst themselves, Danny's senses started to swim. He blinked and an image of a large familiar-looking building stole across his vision. His left hand immediately began to ache, and the realization hit him like a thunderbolt: Pratt was hiding out at the warehouse where he had been held hostage all those years ago.
His co-workers were still talking as he came back to reality, and he spoke unknowingly. "The Paradox Iron warehouse."
They all turned and stared at him quizzically. "What?" Mac asked what was all on their minds.
Danny's illusion had only lasted a second, but it was burned in his memory like a red-hot iron. "The warehouse where we busted that Irish gang for all the coke. Pratt's taking up post there."
Mac sprang into action. Grabbing his walkie-talkie, he barked out orders with an intense voice. When he was finished, he nodded to his team, eyes hard as flint.
"The sun is almost up; we can catch Pratt off guard. Get your weapons and bulletproof vests; we're taking extreme measures with this one. We move now."
---
Dawn broke over the horizon, and like a honey-dipped scone the sun rose in golden splendour, taking its place in the eternal sky. Pratt nudged his crony, smiling wickedly as he noticed the captives starting to stir.
"Go an' make them wriggle. The time has come."
The stocky man flashed an evil grin as he scurried up off the floor. Grabbing a bottle of water, he pulled Lindsay's head back, opened her mouth, and poured the liquid in. Lindsay instinctively swallowed the life-giving water, but she managed to reserve a gulp and spit it into the man's eyes. He stumbled back, sputtering as he clawed at his face. "Tough, eh? We'll see jus' how tough you really are once I'm through with you."
He made as if to strike Lindsay, but Reed, who had witnessed the entire thing, dove in front of his companion. The brute's hand froze in mid-air, all colour drained from his face as he stared into the wild eyes of the youngster.
Reed's voice dripped with hate. "You take my life before you take hers."
The man's arm faltered, and he slithered off to the side, leaving Reed to tend to Lindsay. Sometimes he was not sure whom he feared the most: Pratt, or the two hostages.
---
Danny's own hands shook nervously as his colleagues drove to the warehouse. He felt sick to his stomach, and sweat beaded his forehead. He had never been so scared in his life: Lindsay was in grave danger. He focused every fibre of his being on rescuing her; he was willing to give his life for her safety. His mind ventured back to the night of their argument, where he had whispered a vow to her as she slept.
"I promise that I will take greater care protecting your life than I will my own."
Danny swore to always live by those words.
---
Posts were set around the perimeter of the warehouse. Two snipers were ordered on the roof overlooking the front, and the entire area was surrounded by police cars. Mac was taking no risks; he had to take Pratt down, and fast before the situation got out of hand.
His cell phone vibrated, and in one swift motion the device was at his ear. "Pratt."
"Detective," the voice on the other line hissed. "We meet again."
"There's no escape this time. We have the building surrounded. Come out with the two hostages and we'll work out a deal."
To his surprise, the enemy agreed. "Remember Taylor, no games now. One pull of the trigger; that's all it takes to blow their heads off."
Without another word he ended the call.
---
Pratt stood over the captives, voice deceptively friendly. "Your freedom awaits you beyond those doors. If you follow my orders, I'll let you go. But one false move, one little trick, and both of you die by my hand."
He hunched down beside Reed, who didn't budge an inch. "Reed Garrett, the brat step-son of Detective Mac Taylor, the most well-respected NYPD officer. I've waited a long time for this. Your step-father ruined my life. My first half of revenge was a success, but now I must fully carry it out. The worst thing for a parent to go through is to see their child in danger."
Reaching out, he grabbed Reed by the arm and hoisted him up. "Ricardo, grab the girl. The boy is mine."
Ricardo held back his fear as he pulled Lindsay up by her hair. He was terrified of the fierce young woman, but he dared not let it show in front of Pratt. Lindsay, however, did not struggle; she merely allowed the man to drag her out, knowing it would do her no good now. But she would not go down without a parting shot.
"You worthless barrel of lard. I'd kill you in an instant if I wasn't bound up. Remember that!"
---
Officers tightened their grips on their weapons, eyes narrowing as Pratt appeared from the warehouse. Mac's heart skipped a beat at the sight of the muscular arm wrapped around Reed's neck and the knife at his quivering throat. Lindsay was in a similar predicament, and Danny felt his blood boil with raw fury. He forced himself to remain still, ignoring screaming thoughts to rush in and save her.
"Step forward Taylor!" Pratt yelled into the morning mist. "Let us see each other."
Mac did as he was bid, grasping his gun in both hands, eyes boring into the other man. "Let them go, Pratt. What have they done to you?"
"You ruined my life, Taylor. You destroyed everything. You and that former detective of yours, Aiden Burn. Both of you took it all away from me. Now I shall take it away from you."
Mac knew Pratt was not in his senses, so he spoke in a calm voice. "You raped two woman, killed another two, and murdered an officer. No one destroyed anything; you did it to yourself."
"Shut up!" Pratt snarled, edging the blade closer to Reed's throat. "Don't you dare throw lies at me, Taylor. Look carefully; your step-son and fellow detective are almost at their graves. Push just a bit harder and I'll kill them and myself. Then you will live your life in guilt and pain. I already succeeded in bringing you grief, but this…there is nothing worse than seeing your child die before your every eyes."
Mac kept Pratt talking, knowing that Flack was directing the two snipers situated on the rooftop. A tiny earpiece allowed him to zone in on their communications. "You let the hostage go, and we can work something out. Just release them nice and slow."
"Don't play me for a fool, Taylor!" Pratt snarled viciously, temper nearing the top of the meter. He pressed lightly on Reed's delicate throat skin, and a drop of blood glimmered in the sunlight.
Beside them, Lindsay remained still with Ricardo. Danny's eyes filled with anger as the man kissed Lindsay on the cheek, snickering evilly as his own blade toyed near her exposed throat. She shivered in disgust, and Danny could only watch in helplessness. Don't worry Montana, I won't let you die.
"I did my research," Pratt's voice brought him back to reality. "I know all about you, Mac Taylor. I know your wife died in the terrorist attacks, so I dumped those two worthless women there to teach you a lesson: sometimes the past just won't disappear. You can run from it all you want, but sooner or later it will catch up to you."
"You're right Pratt. The past won't always vanish from sight. You have done yourself no good by holding two captives and eluding police. Your own history did its damage; it destroyed your mind."
"Enough of this madness!" Pratt cruelly jerked Reed's head back. "It ends here. Watch your step-son suffer, Taylor, and tell me how it feels to stare death in the face. Ricardo, kill her!"
Both men shifted back slightly, and Mac heard Flack's voice scream through the piece. Before anyone could even blink, two shots rang out in the morning air, and four bodies crumbled to the ground.