I'd like to thank Andrea, futureforensic, and georgesgurl117 for their great feedback.
Benson & Bond
Chapter Five
There was no time to get into the Aston Martin, so Bond did the next best thing.
Grabbing Olivia, he dived down behind the car, and held her protectively up against him as the explosion roared all around them. Flaming debris rained from above, yet Bond had pressed them both so close against the car that it was able to shield them from everything.
Once the worse was over, Olivia gazed up at him with a stunned, wide-eyed expression.
"Are you all right?" Bond asked her.
"What?!" Olivia said, frowning slightly. "I see your lips moving, but I don't hear anything!"
"The explosion made you deaf," Bond said, as he gently pulled Olivia up to her feet. "Don't worry, it's only temporary. Believe me, I've some experience with this sort of thing."
"Yeah, right!" Olivia said with a pronounced nod. She pointed at her ears. "You know, I think the explosion has made me deaf!"
Bond quickly hid the smile that erupted across his face with his hand. "C'mon, let's get in the car," he told her loudly. "It's a waste of time to remain here now, anyway."
"Uh, yeah!" Olivia replied, yet the perplexed look on her face told Bond that she still couldn't understand him. Inside the car would be the best place for Olivia to regain her hearing.
As soon as they got in and shut the doors, Olivia began opening her mouth as wide as it would go in an effort to pop her ears.
"Feeling better?" Bond asked, as he started the car.
"Yeah, I--hey, I can hear you now," she commented with a smile. The smile faded once she glanced out the windshield. "Who the hell's that?"
Bond saw them. Two men standing a ways down the street, watching them intently. They were cast in shadows by the streetlight behind them, hiding their features. One of the men raised what looked like a cell phone to his ear and began speaking.
"Why don't we go and find out?" Bond said, as he stepped on the gas.
Once the men saw the Aston Martin charge towards them, they both turned and got into a large sedan which took off down the street.
"Hang on, Liv," Bond said, as he pursued the sedan. "You'd better strap in for good measure."
"Oh Christ," Olivia muttered, as she buckled herself into the seat. "Here we go again!"
The sedan made a tight turn onto a main drag, cutting off a taxi as it did. Bond stayed right on its tail, chasing it down another side street. When he caught the flash of a set of headlights in the rearview mirror, he realized there was another sedan right behind them. "We've got company."
Olivia glanced out the back window. "They don't look like cops."
"Probably a back up team for the goons ahead of us," Bond said.
And sure enough, the car ahead of them abruptly came to a stop, swerving as it did. It stopped sideways, effectively blocking the street in front of them.
"Hang on," Bond said, as he flipped a switch on the console between the front seats. There was a slight whirring sound as the twin battering rams moved out into position on the front of the Aston Martin. Once they locked onto the reinforced steel frame of the undercarriage, the battering rams were ready.
"What are you doing?" Olivia asked.
"Going through them," Bond casually announced.
"Sweet Jesus," Olivia cried, as the Aston Martin slammed right into the sedan that tried to blockade them. The force of the impact, thanks to the Aston Martin's size and weight, effortlessly flung the enemy vehicle to the side of the street as if it were so much trash.
"Now for our other friends," Bond said, as he stepped on the brake and twisted the steering wheel.
This caused the Aston Martin to spin in a tight circle in the street, making a 180 degree turn, until it now faced the car that had been behind it. The men in that sedan all stared at the Aston Martin with renewed horror. Bond reached down and flipped a second switch on the console, which caused twin sets of double barreled machine guns to emerge from the front grill of the Aston Martin.
The driver of the sedan tried to back up, but then Bond opened fire with the Aston Martin's machine guns, and the front tires of the sedan, along with most of the front end itself, were cut to ribbons by the barrage of bullets.
Bond was about to get out and capture the men in the disabled sedan, until one of them got out of the car and opened fire on the Aston Martin with a machine gun. He made sure to stay behind one of the car's doors for protection.
Bond swerved the Aston Martin to the side and then opened fire with the front end machine guns. This time, the bullets ripped into the shooter's legs, knocking him to the ground. Bond saw that the other men in the car had made a run for it down the street. The devastated sedan blocked their way, yet that was not a problem.
Bond turned to Olivia--yet before he could warn her, she just wearily nodded her head and muttered, "Yeah, yeah, I know…hold on."
"Good to see you're getting the hang of this," Bond said, as he stomped on the accelerator and smashed the Aston Martin right into the sedan. As expected, the Aston Martin easily shoved it's way past the sedan, which also plowed over the hapless prone shooter.
Bond saw the men who fled the sedan running into an office building, entering a large lobby area with floor to ceiling glass walls. When the security guards rose from their station to challenge them, the men shot them down…as well as just about everybody else in the lobby of the building.
"Oh Christ," Olivia muttered, as Bond drove the Aston Martin straight up onto the sprawling central plaza of the office building. He drove the car right through the glass walls of the lobby, aiming the Aston Martin's front end at the group of men--who were all still shooting.
Bond opened fire once more with the front end machine guns and effortlessly mowed down the men. Yet there was something wrong. Three men got out of the car, but he only got two just now. Where was the third?
Olivia suddenly pointed and said, "Frankenstein's getting away! The middle elevator there, see?"
When Bond glanced over at where she pointed, he just barely caught a glimpse of a tall man grabbing a young woman and forcing her to get into the elevator with him. "I see him," Bond said, as they got out of the car. "Why'd you call him Frankenstein?"
"Because he had a big scar running down his face, and his eye was all white," Olivia said with a grimace.
"Mr. Ott?" Bond replied with a start.
"You know him?"
"I've heard of him," Bond said, as he pulled out his gun and ran towards the elevators. He tossed Olivia the keys to the Aston and started running towards the bank of elevators. "You stay with the car!"
"The hell I will," Olivia responded, as she ran alongside him. "I'm coming with you."
Bond gave her a double-take. But there was no time to argue, now. He ran up to the bank of elevators. He glanced at what floor the elevator Mr. Ott got on stopped at, and saw it was the 10th. When he saw another elevator starting to close he ran for it, calling, "Hold that bloody lift!"
"Get your own!" a man called as the door continued to close. "Asshole!"
Bond stuck his hand into the narrowing gap and halted the elevator door. As it slid back open, Bond glared into the anxious face of the man who meekly stood by himself in the elevator.
"Uh, hey, look," he said nervously, "I-I didn't mean anything before, you know? So, nothing personal, ok?"
The man's eyes bulged in terror as Bond grabbed him by the throat and tossed him right out of the elevator. As the man lay sprawled on the floor, staring dumb-founded at him, Bond smiled and said, "Nothing personal, old chap."
"Please excuse him," Olivia told the man, as she got into the elevator with Bond. "He's British, and he gets very cranky when he hasn't had his afternoon tea yet."
Once the elevator doors had shut, Bond pressed the button for the ninth floor. He didn't want to ride the elevator all the way up to the same floor where Mr. Ott got off--just in case the bastard was lying in wait for him.
He turned to Olivia and said, "What the bloody hell you think you're doing, anyway? I thought I told you to wait by the car."
"You asked for me to be your partner," Olivia coolly replied, as she pulled out her Glock. "And so I'm coming with you to watch your back. That's what partners do, James. Deal with it. Now who is this Mr. Ott?"
Bond was about to argue, but thought better of it.
"He's a legendary assassin, one who took out an entire cadre of ex-KGB men all on his own," Bond answered, as he waited impatiently for the elevator to deposit them on the ninth floor. "The fact that he's working for this bunch means we're dealing with a pretty big league group--or at least a group with very deep pockets, because Ott doesn't come cheap."
Olivia looked a little anxious. "This Ott guys sounds scary."
"He's one of the scariest men alive," Bond said with a smile. "And I can't wait to meet him."
B&B
When M strode into the situation room at CIA headquarters, Felix Leiter groaned inwardly. He wasn't sure he wanted to see the scene that was about to transpire, yet a part of him did want to watch--sort of like how a viewer couldn't take their eyes off the scary parts of a horror movie, no matter how repulsed they were by it.
"There she is!" the mayor exclaimed, when he saw M. "I'd like a word with you!"
"Yes, Mr. Mayor?" M asked, all sweetness.
"The FBI and the NYPD has informed me that we've got an all-out war breaking out in the streets," the mayor cried. "And that it's being caused by your man, this 007! That maniac of yours is single-handedly causing a mass slaughter of terrorists on the streets of my city, and I want to know what do you have to say to that?!"
M flashed him a broad grin and replied, "That's my boy."
Then she abruptly went over to the refreshment table and got herself a cup of tea.
The mayor just stood by himself in the center of the room with a puzzled expression on his face. Knowing what M could have done to him, all Felix could think was how lucky the man was to have gotten away relatively intact.
B&B
Bond and Olivia arrived on the 10th floor via the stairwell. They slipped through the doorway in a low crouch, with their guns covering every possible ambush point. When Olivia heard whimpering, she glanced at Bond. He nodded; he heard it too. They cautiously followed the sound around a corner, until they came upon the sight before them.
Mr. Ott stood holding a woman--the same woman he took hostage downstairs--up against him, using her as a shield, as he aimed his gun at the bank of elevators, waiting for Bond to arrive.
Olivia's eyes went wide when she saw Bond take aim at Mr. Ott. But then she became relieved when he whispered, "Her head's too close to his for a clean shot."
"Let's try it this way," Olivia whispered back.
She stood up behind the wall and shouted, "Yo! Anybody here order a pizza?!"
Mr. Ott was so caught off guard by that question--as well as the direction from where it came from--that he swung around in Bond's direction, moving well away from the hostage to give Bond a clear shot.
And he took it.
Bond fired right into Mr. Ott's chest, the impact of the bullets knocking the man back into an office cubicle. Realizing she was in the clear, the woman kicked off her heels and ran screaming down the hallway.
'Good girl,' Olivia thought. 'As panicked as she was, she still had the good sense to get the fuck out of Dodge the first chance she got.'
She stepped out from behind the corner--until Bond grabbed her and shoved Olivia back behind cover.
That was when Mr. Ott abruptly stood up from behind a wall of the cubicle and opened fire, spraying bullets all over the office.
"Bloody body armor," Bond muttered to Olivia. "Leave it to this bastard to think of everything."
"You surprised me, Mr. Bond," Mr. Ott called out. "But then again, I should have expected a stinking mutt like you to take the coward's way out by sneaking up on me."
Bond let out a laugh. "You were using that poor woman as a shield, so who's the bloody coward here, Mr. Ott? Listen, you want a stand up fight, just say so, old boy. Step right on out. I'll go for the head shot this time."
"Always joking around, you Double-O agents," Mr. Ott said. His voice sounded like he had moved to the other side of the room. "Your fellow agent, 005, also made jokes, too--just before I blew the top of his head off."
Olivia saw Bond had frowned at that. "Is that true?" she asked.
"He could just be trying to rattle me," Bond said with a shrug. He turned his head towards Ott. "As long as you're in a confessing mood, how about telling me where the bombs are, Ott?"
"Just wait a while, Mr. Bond," he replied, now sounding like he was over by the windows. "You'll know right where they are once they go off."
"But that was always my problem, I'm the impatient sort," Bond called back, as he and Olivia ran in a crouch behind a row of cubicle walls. He paused by the corner, his gun ready. "I want to know everything right…now!"
Bond stuck out his gun from behind the wall and aimed it at where he had heard Ott speaking.
But there was nobody there. All Bond saw was a glass door slowly swinging closed.
"Shit!" Bond muttered. He glanced out the row of windows and saw Ott running over an enclosed walkway that led to a building across the street.
"It's even worse," Olivia told him. "There's a subway station inside that building. Once Ott gets there, he's gone!"
"Wonderful," Bond muttered, as he and Olivia both broke into a run across the walkway.
B&B
"Are you all right?" Elliot asked. "You got money?"
"Yeah," Kathy replied. "My mother wired it to me. We got more than enough for the flight."
They all stood awkwardly by his desk in the one six precinct. Night had fallen, and there was only darkness beyond the windows--it was a darkness that chilled Elliot to the bone, for it seemed to be a foreboding of things to come. He hated to think like this; usually he always tried to be the optimist, no matter how dismal the situation. But the thought that he was sending his family away had finally struck home for Elliot.
'All these cops running around, struggling to find leads,' he thought. 'Will we be successful? Will my kids have a home to return to? And if not, what then?'
Although she wore a sweater, Elizabeth kept rubbing her arms as she stared anxiously at her mother and father. It looked as if she expected something to happen between them. Indeed, all of them--Maureen, Kathleen and Dickie--stared at him and Kathy expectantly.
As if on cue, Kathy took a deep breath and said, "You could come with us. There's still time to buy another ticket."
"I'd love to," Elliot reluctantly said, "but I can't."
"Make no mistake, what we had is over," Kathy somberly told him. "But you're still the father of my children, and as such, I want you to remain a big part of their lives."
"I plan on doing just that, Kath," Elliot said. He lowered his head, almost hating himself for what he was about to say next. "But--"
"--you've got a job to do," Kathy said, derisively finishing his sentence for him. "How many times have I heard that before? You're a sex crimes cop, Elliot, not Jack Bauer. All due respect, but why are you even still working this? Isn't this case is a little out of your league?"
"The SVU's no longer the lead investigating unit; the feds have taken over," he confirmed. "But we're still working on it with everybody else. It started with us, Kath, it got dropped into our laps. We're still a part of the overall investigation."
"And when will you finally leave?" she asked. "When it's too late?"
"No, look, there's a lot of people who're putting their lives on the line here," he explained. "One of whom is Olivia, who's helping a spy track down the terrorists even as we speak. I can't just walk away from this right now, Kathy, not while we have a fighting chance."
"Olivia's working with a spy? Cool!" Dickie said excitedly. "Is he like Jack Bauer?"
"Not really," Elliot said. "This guy's British."
"The British are helping us?" Kathleen said, looking impressed. "Is that because we helped them during World War Two?"
"Something like that," Elliot said. "Look, I don't want you guys to miss your plane." He turned to Kathy and added, "If the worst happens, if we can't stop this, I'll be the first to get out of town, I promise."
"By the time you realize you can't stop this, it may be too late," Kathy said. "Is she really worth it, Elliot?"
"Is who worth it?" he asked.
"Never mind," Kathy muttered, as she gathered her things. "C'mon guys, let's go. Say goodbye to Dad."
Elliot hugged the twins, then Kathleen. Maureen came over and gave him a tight embrace, and as she did so, said, "I love you, Daddy. You've always been a hero in my book, so you don't have to do anything now to prove yourself to me."
"Don't worry, honey," he soothed her. "If the you-know-what hits the fan, I'll be the first one bugging out of here, I promise."
"You're really waiting for her, aren't you?" Maureen asked, when they broke their embrace. "Have you even told Olivia how you feel about her, yet?"
Elliot stared at her, stunned. "Olivia?"
Maureen smiled. "Oh, c'mon, Dad. Don't tell me you haven't even admitted your feelings for her to yourself! Your feelings for Liv have always been pretty obvious--especially after you and mom got divorced, you've been broadcasting them like a neon sign."
"Maureen," Kathy called from where she stood at the doorway with the twins and Kathleen. "C'mon, let's go."
"I hope you're not waiting for armageddon to tell Liv how you really feel for her," Maureen said, as she began walking away. "Because, from the looks of things, it may well be right around the corner. So if now isn't the right time, Daddy, then it never will be."
Elliot just stood there, staring after his oldest daughter with amazement, and wondering just at what moment did she become far more smarter than he was.
Munch poked his head up from a file he had been reading and said, "Bingo! I got something, guys."
"What is it?" Elliot asked, coming over to Munch's desk.
"Our boy, Marcus--A.K.A. Marko--has been regularly seeing a doctor on the upper East Side," Munch told him. "An oncologist."
"An oncologist?" Fin asked. "That's a cancer doctor, ain't it?"
Munch nodded. "Correct. The plot thickens."
Elliot frowned at this development. "Marko's got cancer?"
"Wanna go find out?" Munch asked. He tapped the file. "The doc's address is right there."
"One of you clear this with Cragen," Elliot said, "I'll get my jacket. I'm coming with you guys to check out this lead."
"Wait, who said we wanted you to come with us?" Fin asked.
"Since you started telling everybody that I'm cuckolded by Olivia," Elliot snapped back.
Fin's eyes went extremely wide at that comment. He looked for all the world like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.
Munch leaned over, pointed at his partner, and said, "BUSTED!"
"Uh, I'll…um, I'll go clear it with Cragen," Fin muttered, as he quickly got out of his seat and ran into the Captain's office.
"Vengeance is so much fun, isn't it?" Munch cheerfully asked.
"I'll settle for evening the score with the bastards who're trying to blow us all up," Elliot said darkly, as he put his jacket on.
When he glanced up, Elliot was surprised to see Casey standing in the doorway of the bull pen. Casually dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, her hair was pulled back into a pony tail. "What's wrong, Case?"
"You mean other than the fact that we all might get blown up at any second?" she asked.
"Why are you still here?" Munch asked her. "I heard the Westfield case never got to court, so you should have some time off. You should be heading for the hills."
"I-I don't know where to go," Casey said, her voice sounding tight with emotion. "Why are you guys still here?"
"We're checking out a lead that Munch found on Marko," Fin replied, as he emerged from Cragen's office. "And we have a go from the Captain, by the way."
Elliot stared at Casey, who looked a little lost and scared right now, and made a decision right then and there. "Come with us," he said to her. "We're going to be talking to a doctor, and we might need the intimidation of an ADA to make him spill the beans."
Casey nodded, and she instantly looked much better, as if relieved to have something to do during this dire time.
As they all walked out of the bull pen, Fin did a double take at Casey and said, "Hey, wait a minute, you told Elliot about the cuckold remark, didn't you?"
Casey rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Give me a break, Fin…."
"I knew it!" Fin said. "I never should have told you in the first place!"
"Well, Elliot always gives me this big-brother/little-sister act," Casey muttered in her defense. "And whenever he does that, I can't help myself!"
"Now, now, children," Munch jokingly said, "if you don't settle down, we're not stopping for ice cream later!"
B&B
When they got to the other side of the walkway, Olivia's eyes grew wide when she heard a chorus of screams and cries from further down the hallway. She glanced at Bond and said, "I guess we can take a wild guess as to where Ott went!"
They ran down the hallway, and saw a crowd gathered around a burly man who lay on the floor. He wore a janitor's outfit, and he laid very still with a bullet hole in the middle of his forehead. An older woman, who looked like an office worker, knelt by the man's body and sobbed uncontrollably.
"Are you cops?" one of the other office workers--a man--asked Olivia. "Somebody just ran up and just shot Verne for no good reason."
"Did you see the man who did this?" she asked him.
"No, but Louise did," he replied, indicating the sobbing woman.
"Louise, Louise," Bond impatiently said. "Louise, listen to me! The man who shot your friend, where did he go? Louise!"
"Why?!" Louise cried. "Why did he just shoot him?! Verne would never hurt a fly! Why, God, why?!"
"Damn it, Louise!" Bond shouted. "Stay focused!"
"Back the fuck off, James," Olivia said, grabbing his arm. "She just lost a close friend!"
"Every second we spend here gives Ott that much more time to get away," Bond snapped at her. "Look, let's check the subway. There may still be time to--"
"No, wait," Olivia said, as she suddenly pointed at the dead man's waist. "Look at that key chain on his belt, it's been ripped off. The keys are gone."
Bond's eyes flared when it struck him. "That's why Ott shot him. He needed the keys to the maintenance area."
"He never bothered going to the subway station after all." Olivia looked around at the people who surrounded them. "Anybody know where the nearest route to the maintenance area is?"
"Down the hall and make a left," a man told them. "It's a pair of big gray doors, you can't miss it."
"You call 911," Olivia told him as she and Bond began running down the hallway.
"Already did," the man called.
Once they reached the doors the man told them about, Olivia and Bond, noticing that they had been left open, pulled out their guns and--on the count of three--barged through.
They found a janitor sitting at a desk with a half-eaten sandwich in his hand. His eyes grew very large at the guns which had been pointed at him. Olivia's heart sank at the vastness of the maintenance area, which sprawled out beyond the janitor's office area in a sea of pipes and machinery.
"You see anybody come through here just now?" Bond asked the janitor at the desk. He holstered his weapon.
"No, nobody came through here," the janitor said. "But then again, I just sat down here barely a minute ago."
"Is there any other way out of here?" Olivia asked him. "Any other way to the streets from here?"
"Yeah, there are several exits," the janitor said. "But you need a special key to get pass the doors."
"Which Ott has," Bond said grimly. "It's too late. We lost him."
When she saw him take out his cell phone, Olivia asked, "Who are you calling?"
"The boss," he said curtly. "I've got to report this."
"Better you than me," Olivia said, remembering the temperment of the iron-willed old woman whom James worked for.
B&B
"Yes," M muttered, as she scribbled some notes on a blank sheet of paper. "Very well, 007. No, get back here. Let's just gather our resources for now."
When she hung up the phone, she turned to Felix, who sat next to her, and said, "This group we're dealing with, they've got Mr. Ott in their employ. James just ran into him."
Felix looked momentarily stunned before he called a young woman over. "Sarah, call Langley and have them send every scrap of information they have on a Mr. Ott," he told her. "Tell them to send everything, no matter how superfluous it may seem."
"Yes sir," Sarah said with a nod, as she proceeded to make the call.
"Well-financed bastards, aren't they?" Felix commented.
"Yes, I was just thinking the same thing," M replied. "They'd have to be, in order to be able to hire Ott. And the fact that Ott's working for them means something else: they mean business."
Felix just solemnly nodded his head as M glanced over at the pair of technicians who were busy trying to fix the computer in the middle of the conference room. They were all about to receive an update on the radiological scans of the city when the screen went on the fritz. It's been almost ten minutes, now, and they still haven't got the damned thing fixed, yet.
M leaned forward in her seat and glared at the two young men who argued over how best to fix the computer. "Excuse me, but in case you gentlemen haven't noticed, I'm no spring chicken," she said. "So how about we fix the bloody gadget sometime before I kneel over of old age, yes?"
"Yes, ma'am," one of the man nervously said.
"Right away, ma'am," the other man promised.
In no time, the computerized screen was up and running, showing a map of the five boroughs of New York City. An FBI agent got up and gave the report, which showed no signs of any increased dosage of radiation that would indicate the presence of a nuke in any of the five boroughs.
"I trust you're continuing the scans, despite these findings?" the mayor wanted to know.
"Yes, Mr. Mayor," the agent said. "The radiation sniffers are running 'round the clock."
Felix leaned over to M and whispered, "The bomb's not here yet. Maybe this is a hopeful sign."
M shook her head at the map, which showed a mass of radiation sniffers--on land, in the air and on the water--that covered the greater New York area. "If the bomb's not here yet, then how in the bloody hell do the terrorists plan on getting it past this cordon?"
B&B
"And this is Natalie Preston, for Channel 7, Eyewitness news," the reporter said, smiling.
She kept smiling until the cameraman told her they were off the air. She handed her microphone to her soundman and walked across the plush carpeting of the luxurious lounge area on board the Icelander. The super-yacht, which was docked on the west side of New York City, had a splendid view of Manhattan.
Natalie strode up to the Icelander's owner, Mr. Jergens and said, "Thanks again for letting us broadcast from your yacht, Mr. Jergens."
"The pleasure was all mine, Ms. Preston," he said. "Besides, you still did me a favor by letting your viewers know about the free tours that we're offering aboard the Icelander."
"That's something else which amazes me about you, sir," Natalie said, smiling. "I don't know if I'd let anybody pay to board a beautiful boat like this, let alone give free tours! What you're doing is really wonderful."
"I've been a very fortunate man, Ms. Preston," Jergens said, growing thoughtful. "And I believe firmly in giving back in anyway I can. These free tours of the Icelander are my small way of saying 'thank you' to the citizens of New York City."
When Natalie walked back to her crew, who were busy packing up their gear, Rodger, her soundman, said, "Chatting it up with Donald Trump, uh?"
"Don't knock the guy," Natalie told him. "He's a great humanitarian. We could all use more decent men like Mr. Jergens."
B&B
Once the news crew were off his boat, Jergens went below to the bomb room. He was pleased to see that it was already flooded, with the bottom doors wide open, and the scuba teams were leading the bombs on their underwater journey to the safe house further down the pier. Earlier, Lucien Marko had called to confirm his arrival at the safe house--he and his team were already waiting for the bombs.
'Everything was going according to plan,' Jergens thought with a satisfied nod. 'At this rate, Operation Diamondhead will begin within the hour.'
To Be continued...