Thoughtcrimes: The Price of Honor – Chapter 2

"Miss McAllister? I'm Dr. Crenshaw."

Freya stood immediately to face a tall man with thinning brown hair and glasses. "How's Brendan?"

"Are you a relative?"

Freya shook her head, rubbing her hands nervously against her pants. "No, but we're partners. Please, how is he?"

The doctor nodded, seeming to be satisfied. "He's stable for now. He took in quite a bit of smoke, so we're watching his oxygen levels pretty closely. He's got first and second degree burns on his face, his left arm, and most of his left side. There are a few small areas of third degree burns, but they are small enough I don't think they'll be too problematic. He's also got a cracked collarbone, dislocated shoulder, and three cracked ribs. Was he ill recently?"

Freya furrowed her brow and slowly shook her head. "No . . . why?"

The doctor shrugged his shoulders. "He's slightly dehydrated and seems to be exhausted."

Freya sighed and bowed her head forward for a moment. "No, he's a chronic workaholic obsessed with an important case. He has a tendency to overdo it."

The doctor nodded and smiled. "I understand. I see he's an agent with the NSA. I suppose that helps explain things."

"Can I see him?" Freya needed to reassure herself he was really okay. When the fireman had carried him out of the building moments before the whole thing collapsed, she had first thought he was dead. His clothes had still been smoldering, his jacket and shirt burned almost completely off the left side of his body. He had stopped breathing for a few frantic moments, scaring her to death. After slapping a mask on his face and squeezing the balloon on the side several times until Brendan resumed breathing, the paramedics had seemed very anxious to get him to the hospital. Their thoughts had scared Freya even more.

"Yes, you can sit with him if you like. We'll be transferring him to a room in a little while." As near as I can tell, he's lucky to be alive.

Freya nodded and followed the doctor. She was a bit shaken when she entered the room and looked at the figure in the bed. Brendan was hooked up to all kinds of monitors, an IV, and an oxygen mask. What she could see of his face was bright red, as if he had a bad sunburn. His left arm and shoulder were heavily bandaged, as was most of his mid-section. His left arm was secured to his body with a sling to keep it from moving. A sheet covered him from the waist down. What she could see of his left chest and side of his neck were also red, with bruises beginning to darken underneath the burned skin. Scrapes and small cuts dotted the exposed skin.

The doctor paused beside the bed to look back at Freya. "He should be all right, but he's in for a rough few days. As you can see, flying debris from the explosion gave him several abrasions and lacerations. Fortunately there was very little internal bleeding and it seems to have revolved itself. I'm a little concerned about his low oxygen levels, but they've begun to come up. We'll be moving him to a private room shortly, I just want to watch him for a bit longer."

Freya nodded and walked over to where the doctor had pulled up a chair. "Has anyone checked you out?"

Freya shook her head. "No, I didn't go in the building. I was telling the firemen about Brendan being inside when there was an explosion. I should never have let him go in."

Dr. Crenshaw shifted his weight, chewing on his bottom lip for a second. "Miss, I don't really know what the situation is here, but I know that if he is as obsessive as you've indicated about his job, it's doubtful you would have been able to stop him. Sometimes you just have to let people do what they're going to do." I really hate to see her feeling guilty when she probably couldn't have done anything to stop him. He sounds like my brother . . . stubborn as a mule.

Freya couldn't help the tired smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth. "I know, you're probably right. Thank you."

The physician looked relieved that she had accepted his words. "I'll check back on him in a few minutes. Call the nurse if you need anything or he has any trouble." With a quick nod, he left the room.

Freya sat staring at Brendan, watching the rise and fall of his chest and listening to the quiet hiss of the oxygen and the beeping of the heart monitor. She replayed everything in her head, looking for things she could have done to prevent this. She finally admitted that she could not have stopped him from going after Chen and if she had gone with him, she'd either be dead or lying in a bed herself. She'd done the right thing by waiting to alert the fireman where he was.

A moan caught her attention and she jumped to her feet, taking Brendan's right hand in hers. She was careful not to disturb the IV in the back of his hand or the monitor clipped to his finger. "Brendan, it's Freya. I'm here."

His eyes fluttered, finally opening just a slit. She realized for the first time that his lids were slightly swollen, making it hard for him to open his eyes. "Brendan, can you hear me? Don't try to talk. You took in a lot of smoke."

Eyes burn . . . throat hurts . . . everything hurts.

"I know. The building exploded with you inside. You were hurt pretty badly, but you're going to be okay, you just need to rest."

She could tell when his memory kicked in by the way his eyes tried to widen, even if she hadn't been able to read his thoughts. He sucked in a gasp of air suddenly, which triggered a coughing spell. She got one hand behind his back and helped sit him up a little as he desperately fought for air, his ribs and head protesting loudly. When it was finally over, tears streamed down his cheeks. After getting him settled back against the pillows, she got a tissue and gently wiped the moisture from his burned face.

"Just try to breathe, Brendan. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

Are you okay?

Freya smiled and squeezed his hand. "I'm fine. Unlike you, I didn't run into a burning building."

Chen?

Freya looked down at his desperate face, glad he couldn't read her mind. She doubted anyone was left alive in the building, but she didn't know for sure that anyone else had been in there. "I don't know. Maybe he wasn't in there."

Brendan closed his eyes. He was in there.

"We don't know that. There's no use getting upset until we know for sure. They're going to move you to a room in a little while, so why don't you get some rest."

Brendan opened his eyes again. What she could see of them was dark and dull, a combination of pain and sadness for what they both suspected was true. His breathing hitched a second and he tensed at a wave of pain. She could read his thoughts as he tried to ride it out and she wanted to be able to take it away. When it finally passed, he relaxed, his eyes drifting closed as he once again went to sleep. Freya found herself feeling relieved.

She startled at the sound of the door opening, turning to see Michael Welles and Jon Harper enter the room, both looking worried. She gently set Brendan's hand back down on the bed and walked over to stand by them so they could whisper quietly.

"How is he?" asked Harper, his eyes studying the limp form of one of his top agents.

"The doctor said he'd be okay, but I think he's hurting. He woke up for a few minutes just now. Do you know if they found Chen or Mai?"

Harper sighed and frowned. "So far they've recovered one body and it appears to be that of Chen. The place is still hot though, so it may several hours before they finish sifting through everything. He didn't get a chance to tell you when the meeting is?"

Freya shook her head. "No, he wanted to meet with us. I guess Walters found out and got to him first. Brendan's going to be devastated and he's going to blame himself. He already does."

"Are you all right?" asked Welles, looking Freya over for signs of injury.

"I'm fine. Brendan made me wait by the car for the firemen."

Michael nodded. "At least he watches out for you."

Freya looked back at Brendan, his features tight with pain even in sleep. "Yeah, but who watches out for him?"

oOo

Brendan drifted in and out in a haze of pain. He wanted to surface. He knew there was something he needed to be doing, but he couldn't get his body to cooperate. Voices came and went, some familiar, some not. Sometimes there were touches that made the pain flare until he couldn't breathe. That was usually followed by a calm voice that he knew and someone gently stroking his arm or his face until the pain faded and the breaths came easier. Through all of it, he couldn't bring himself to enough awareness to understand what was happening.

Images ran through his dreams, fire and smoke and heat, the feeling that he couldn't breathe. He was looking for someone. Freya? No, Freya was safe. He kept pushing on, his lungs and eyes burning, unable to see through the dense smoke. Panic began to fill him.

"Brendan, wake up, you're dreaming. Brendan?"

His eyes snapped open, startling Freya almost as much as it startled him. It took a minute for him to realize the frantic beeping was the monitor advertising that his heart was trying to pound its way out of his chest. He eased his head back against the pillows, noting the oxygen mask had been replaced with nasal cannula. He supposed that was a sign of improvement. He looked up into Freya's worried and tired face. Water?

Freya reached for a cup on the side table and peered down into it. "No water, but they left some ice chips for when you woke up. I think there's still a few that haven't melted." She took the plastic spoon from the cup and scooped up a couple of small, half-melted ice chips. Leaning over, she carefully placed them to his lips and he sucked them in, feeling their cool moisture relieve some of the dryness making his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth.

"More," he whispered.

Freya fished out a couple more and they repeated the action. Brendan closed his eyes a second while he enjoyed the melting ice. The pain in his shoulder and side was notching steadily upward, but his head was clearer than it had been in a while. He opened his eyes to find Freya studying him.

"Hey," he said roughly, his voice hoarse and low.

Freya gave a small, almost pained smile. "Hey, yourself. Are you trying to scare me to death, because you came pretty close."

Brendan coughed, gritting his teeth at the feeling that someone was stabbing him in the side. He was grateful when Freya spooned him a little of the melted ice and it relieved the tickle in his throat. "Thanks."

"You probably shouldn't talk much yet. Should I get the doctor? Are you in much pain?"

I'm fine for now. How long have I been here? What about Chen and Mai?

"You've been here since last night and it's about . . . five-thirty now. They found Chen's body, but not Mai's. Brendan, she wasn't in the building, so she must be alive somewhere."

Brendan gave a small nod. He'd known Chen was dead. They have Mai, then, and we have to find her. We have two days left to figure out where the meeting is taking place.

"No, Brendan, you don't need to worry about figuring anything out. You're going to be here for a while. Harper has already assigned someone to take over the investigation."

"No, he can't," said Brendan fiercely, trying to pull the covers back.

Freya grabbed his arm and pushed the covers back in place. "Leave that alone. You aren't going anywhere. You have cracked ribs and burns and a cracked collarbone. You stopped breathing for a while last night at the scene. Brendan . . . you could have died." The stress in her voice got Brendan's attention.

"But I didn't," he said simply.

"Please, for once, just let someone else handle it. How long do you think you'd last? I'm betting you can't even stand on your own."

Brendan considered her words and reluctantly admitted to himself that she was probably right. He hurt almost everywhere and it had sucked what little energy he had to throw the covers back and resist her efforts to push him back in bed. He relaxed back into the pillows, his arm, shoulder, and side throbbing relentlessly. Okay, you win.

Freya sighed and sank down into the chair next to the bed, looking relieved. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the tired lines in her face. She looked more exhausted than he'd ever seen. "How long have you been here?"

Freya shrugged her shoulders, looking like it didn't matter.

"You never left, did you?"

Freya didn't answer, just looked down at her hands for a moment before looking back up at him. "I couldn't just leave you here to wake up alone."

Brendan smiled a little, the effort costing him when it pulled on the burned skin of his face, but he barely noticed. "Thanks," he said warmly.

Freya grinned. "I didn't mind. I needed to make sure you were okay."

Brendan looked at her for a moment, his eyelids already feeling heavy again. "Go home and get some sleep. I'll be okay."

Freya shook her head. "No, I'm not leaving you here by yourself."

They were interrupted by the door opening and a doctor coming in. Freya nodded to the woman. "Dr. Margay, Brendan woke up a few minutes ago."

The short, dark woman with dark eyes and a big smile walked over to the bed, clipboard in her hand. "Good, I'll finally get to meet Agent Dean. I'm Dr. Margay. How are you feeling this afternoon."

Brendan looked up at the doctor, trying not to move so he didn't aggravate the already escalating pain. "Like I've been blown up," he quipped.

Margay chuckled, her eyes dancing. "Oh, this one's a live wire, I can tell. Let's just have a look at you."

Freya watched as the doctor checked Brendan's bandages and injuries. She was aware of the pain stirred up by every poke, prod, and flinch. Brendan carried on a constant mental pep talk about not complaining or whining. She almost smiled when he started telling himself not to scream like a girl.

The doctor finally finished and spent a couple of minutes adding observations to Brendan's chart. Brendan used the time to unwind his tensed muscles and relax back into the bed, the pain fading back to bearable level.

"You're progressing well, Agent Dean. Oxygen levels are up, although I'm going to leave the nasal cannula in place a little longer just to make sure, especially with those cracked ribs. Now that you're conscious and a little more lucid, I'll have them hook up a morphine pump so you can control your own pain meds as you need them. Are familiar with how that works."

Brendan smiled. "Oh, yeah, I've used them before."

"Suppose I shouldn't be surprised by that. I'd like to try getting something to eat in you, probably start with something easy like soup. I'll have it brought up while you're awake and have someone to help you. Will you be staying tonight, Miss McAllister?"

Freya said, "Yes," at the same time Brendan said, "No."

"Yes, I'm staying and please call me Freya," she said, crossing her arms and glaring at Brendan.

Brendan scowled back at her. "No, she's not," he tried to say forcefully, but his voice was still hoarse, barely above a whisper. "She needs to get some rest. She was here all night."

Dr. Margay nodded and pursed her lips. "Well, how about we compromise. I can have a cot brought in so Miss . . . uh, so Freya can stay. That way she can get some rest, but she'll be here if you need anything. And I'm guessing she'll rest easier if she can just open her eyes and check on you."

Freya nodded enthusiastically. "That would be great, Dr. Margay, thank you."

Brendan didn't look very happy, but he nodded. "All right. But you have to get some sleep, promise me."

Freya put her hands on her hips a moment as she looked at Brendan. "This from the man who goes days without sleep. You're a hypocrite, Brendan Dean."

Brendan just blinked his eyes sleepily at her. I can't help who I am any more than you can help who you are.

Freya's expression softened and she smiled at him. "Yeah, I know. Guess I'll keep you around anyway." They both smiled at the odd look the doctor gave them.

oOo

Freya shot up to a sitting position, her breaths coming hard and fast. She ran a trembling hand through her hair and looked around the dark room. Moonlight flowing through the window, illuminated Brendan's sleeping figure. Swinging her legs around, Freya stood up and walked over to stand beside the bed, trying to rid her mind of the image from her dreams. She could still see the paramedics turn away from his still body, telling her they had lost him. She rubbed her forehead against the headache that had begun early in the afternoon, partially from stress and partially from the lack of sleep.

Another dream?

Freya dropped her hand and looked into Brendan's eyes, watching her carefully. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"No, I've mostly been dozing in and out. Can't seem to really get to sleep. Are you okay? That's the second time tonight."

Freya frowned. She hadn't even been aware he was awake after her first nightmare. The building had collapsed into a burning heap of debris with Brendan inside in that one. She was surprised she didn't wake up screaming, because she'd been doing just that in her dream. "I'm fine, just . . . can't seem to shake this. I've never come this close to losing you before."

It's nice that you care.

Freya slapped him lightly on his good arm. "Of course I care, silly. We're partners." She looked at him for a moment. "Just, quit dying in my dreams, please."

Brendan frowned, wincing as he shifted positions. "I'll work on that. You need to get some sleep."

Freya yawned and nodded. "I know and so do you." She glanced over at the pump set up beside the bed and connected to the IV. "Are you even using that thing?"

"I'm trying to wean myself. I need to have a clear head so I can think."

"Brendan, you need to take the morphine when you're hurting so you can sleep and heal. Quit being a stupid hero. Sometimes you make me so mad."

"I can't help it, Freya, I need to –"

"Yes, you can help it. I had to learn to block out all the voices around me, to pick when to listen to them. You have to learn when to block stuff out and move on, when to let things go."

Brendan was tired and his throat was dry, a tickle beginning to develop. He wanted to avoid coughing at almost any cost because of the pain it would stir in his ribs. I know what you're saying, and I'll even admit that you're probably right. But this is not the time. They killed Chen and they have Mai. This isn't just national security, it's personal.

Freya stared at him for a few moments. "All right, I understand that. But you can't do anything tonight. Use the pump and get some rest. Then I can get some rest."

Brendan continued to look at her for a moment before looking down at the bed. He moved his hand over and slowly picked up the pump trigger. Holding it carefully, he finally lifted his finger and depressed the plunger. He felt the drug hit his system a few moments later, the sharp edge of pain slowly backing away. "Mmm, 'kay. Did it." He could feel his eyelids beginning to droop. "Go sleep."

"I will," she said softly. She stood watching him until his lids drifted closed and didn't open again. "Get some rest," she whispered before returning to the cot and firmly embedding in her mind that fact that he was alive and was going to stay that way.

oOo

Brendan drifted in and out for most of the next day. In his more lucid moments, he wondered if Freya was pressing the pump for him when he was dozing because he couldn't seem to think or stay awake more than a few minutes at a time. He was vaguely aware of visitors checking on him, but sometimes he just couldn't seem to get his eyes open long enough to acknowledge them. At the edge of his consciousness, the need to be doing something for the investigation kept nagging at him.

He woke the morning of the third day with a clear head and a feeling of dread. Freya had gone home to change clothes and get a shower. Brendan was left to think about the fact that the weapons and explosives would be sold that night and, as far as he knew, they still had no idea where. And then there was Mai, probably scared out of her mind, if she wasn't dead. He shuddered, mentally apologizing to Chen for screwing up so badly.

"I heard that."

He looked up see Freya standing in the door. He hadn't realized she'd been gone long that long. Then he saw Dr. Welles and Jon Harper standing behind her. She moved forward, walking over to stand by the bed. "You didn't screw up, Brendan. You couldn't have known."

"Agent Dean," said Harper sternly. "This is not your fault. There is no way you could have predicted this. Chen Wei has helped you before and he knew the risks. I dare say even if he knew the outcome, he probably would have insisted on helping you. He was a man of honor."

Brendan trembled at that, feeling almost like a jolt of electricity had just zapped him. Sometimes the price of honor is too high.

"Brendan, they have some information about the buy." Freya put a steadying hand on his arm.

Harper nodded his head. "We pulled a fingerprint at that warehouse where the goods were stored for a while and traced it back to two-time loser named Danny Reed. We asked around and followed a few leads and finally grabbed him an hour ago at one of his girlfriend's." Harper smiled smugly. "You would have enjoyed it. We pulled him right out of bed."

Brendan had to smile at that. "Sweet."

"Kunzel thought so. We want to borrow Freya here to question him. We know he won't willingly give anything up, but with the right questions, he might be thinking about what we need."

Brendan nodded. "I'm coming."

A chorus of "No," echoed through the room.

Brendan ignored them and began peeling back the tape from the IV. They had gotten rid of the nasal cannula, heart monitor, and catheter that morning, making it a lot easier for him to get up. "Where's my clothes?"

"In a cut up bloody heap in the trash," answered Freya.

Brendan looked down at the gown. He couldn't go question a suspect dressed in nothing but a hospital gown. Not a very intimidating figure. "Get me some scrubs and we can swing by my place for some clothes."

Freya grabbed his arm as he slid the IV catheter out. "No, Brendan, you can't even walk."

"I made it to the bathroom this morning, I can do this."

Freya didn't let go. "You had help, in the form of a very large male nurse. You can't even stand by yourself."

Brendan stared at her, his expression grim. Let me show you. I need to do this.

Freya let go and stood back, her expression daring him to get out of bed. He used his good arm to help swing himself around so his legs hung off the bed. His ribs cried out loudly, making him pause to breathe through the pain. After a few moments, he slid off the bed, his bare feet hitting the cold floor and sending a shock wave up through his torso. He held onto the bed railing as the room spun around wildly. Slowly, everything settled and he straightened until he was standing unaided by the bed. "See, I'm good."

Harper sighed and exchanged a look with Welles before facing Brendan again. "All right, you can try it. The minute this is over, you're back here for however long they say. You're back before that if you fall on your face."

Brendan smiled and nodded. "Thank you, sir. I can do this. I need to do this."

Harper sighed. "You're nothing, if not persistent, Dean. I just hope we don't end up scooping you off the floor."

Freya sighed and shook her head. "I guess I'll see about borrowing some scrubs so I can get you to your place. That is, unless you want to flash everyone on the floor."

Brendan sheepishly reached his right arm back and closed the back of the gown, even though there was no one behind him. "Scrubs would be good."

oOo

Freya glanced sideways at Brendan, noting his pallor and the light sheen of sweat on his face. His left arm was in a sling and secured to his waist with a strap to limit movement. His face was still red, but not as much as it had been earlier. He moved slowly and methodically, being careful not to jar himself any more than necessary. Freya was just amazed that he was still on his feet. They paused at the door to the interrogation room, where Jon Harper stood waiting on them.

"We'll be watching. Brendan, let us know if you need help."

Brendan nodded. "We'll be fine." He took a second to take a deep breath and wipe the pain from his features. He still didn't cut a very intimidating figure, but considering they probably thought he was dead, maybe he could still take command of the situation, at least enough so that Freya could do her thing. Pushing the door open, he swallowed hard and sauntered into the room.

Danny Reed sat at the table, deep frown on his face as he leaned back in his chair. His eyebrows shot up at the sight of Brendan and his chair came down with a thump. He was slightly overweight, with brown curly hair and a scar down his right cheek. What the heck? I thought he was in the building when it went up.

"What's the matter?" asked Brendan. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Reed recovered quickly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Brendan smiled. "No, I guess not. Just remember, I'm a little more resilient than I look. Now, moving on, we know the meeting is tonight, we just need to know what time and where."

Reed grinned and leaned his chair on the two back legs again, smiling smugly. "I don't know nothing about no meeting, cop." His eyes strayed over to Freya. "Now she's pretty fine. Why don't you have her ask me?" He ran his eyes over her, licking his lips slowly. "Hey honey, why don't you hang around after your stuffed shirt friend leaves and I'll show you a good time."

Freya slowly let a smile play out over her face. "Well," she drawled seductively. "I could stay for a while, but after I break both your arms, you may not feel like playing."

Reed chuckled. "Feisty. I like a woman who fights it."

I'd like to cram that smug smile down your throat followed by breaking your fool neck. Brendan flashed Freya a tight smile, knowing she had read his thoughts. He turned back around to the suspect. "Let's work on where first."

"Don't have any idea." And you'll never think to look in the abandoned building three doors down from your friend's burned out restaurant. We're right under you nose and you can't find us. You people are so pathetically stupid. Yep, at midnight tonight, we become rich and your Chinese girlfriend goes with our clients as a sales bonus. I hear they know interesting things to do to women. I almost wish I could tell you just to see the look on your face.

Freya nudged Brendan in the arm. "We have what we need."

The relief on Brendan's face was obvious. "Everything?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "Everything."

Brendan struggled to his feet, letting Freya take his arm and help him. Once standing, he looked down at Reed, who had let his chair descend to the floor again and was looking highly confused. "Thanks, Reed. We'll say hi to Walters for you." As much as he wanted to see Reed's expression, he wanted to walk out of the room with an air of arrogant confidence even more. He knew Reed was rattled and he relished every second of it.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Brendan sagged against the wall, his arm, shoulder, and side throbbing in time with his heartbeat. "Brendan, are you all right?"

Brendan straightened at the sound of Freya's voice and the sight of Harper and Kunzel coming out of the observation room Kunzel frowned and shook his head. "Brendan, you look like crap. Shouldn't you be in a hospital or something?"

"I'm fine. Freya, when's the meeting?" Brendan hoped no one noticed the way he had his arm braced against his ribs.

Freya looked at him with worry. "Meeting is tonight at midnight in an abandoned building just three doors down from the restaurant. They have Mai and are planning to give her to the buyers as a present, so she'll be there as well."

Brendan sighed and seemed to slump. "Thank goodness, that means she's still alive. We'll have to be careful that we don't get her killed when we take them down."

Harper raised his eyebrows. "We? I had planned on sending you back to the hospital. You can barely stand."

"Yes sir, I want in on this."

"Absolutely not, Agent Dean. Kunzel or Freya can take you back to the hospital and we'll take care of this."

Brendan narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "I'll just leave. I can rest between now and then when we're setting things up. Sir, I need to be there."

"I can keep an eye on him," offered Freya. She wanted him back in the hospital as much as anyone, but she knew how important this was to him.

Harper stared at Brendan for several quiet moments. "You're in the back. We don't need you slowing us down."

"Understood," Brendan said quickly.

"Okay, you're in, against my better judgment. The minute we take them down, you're on your way back to the hospital. Come on, we've got a lot of work to do before tonight."

Brendan looked down at Freya. "Thanks."

She shrugged her shoulders. "It's what partners do."

oOo

Brendan watched the building, listening intently to his radio. Freya stood beside him, shivering in the cold air. The snow had drifted into a deep pile where they stood huddled against the building and his feet were numb. He barely noticed, his attention focused on the building and the radio.

"They're exchanging money. Move in now."

Brendan filed in behind the line of officers making their way to the building across the street, Freya at his side and he knew watching him closely. He had his gun in his right hand, ready to help in any way he could. The door splintered as the forces in front of him crashed through and he immediately heard shouts and sounds of gunfire. He hunched over as they ran in, trying to make himself a smaller target.

He ducked behind a stack of crates, Freya falling in beside him. They peered around the boxes to see agents fighting with suspects everywhere. Brendan was dying to get in the middle of it, but he knew he'd just get in the way. They watched for several seconds before they noticed one of the agents near them get knocked down. Before he could object, Freya rushed over to help. There was no way he could use his gun in the chaos without endangering some of his own men.

A crash near the back of the room to his left caught his attention and he saw Walters darting around between stacks trying to make an escape. No one was following him, so Brendan hurried to catch up, his arm held tightly to his side and ignoring the pain. He lost sight of him for a moment, but then Walters went for the door. Still not having a clear shot, he ran for the man, lowering his head and plowing into him with his right shoulder. The two men hit the ground hard. Walters had twisted in such a way that Brendan came down on his injured arm and shoulder with the large man on top of him. The ensuing agony sent his head reeling, his brain unable to comprehend anything beyond the pain.

"Brendan Dean, again. This is the last time you get in my way." The voice seemed distant and Brendan could do nothing to move. Cold metal pressed against his temple and that didn't seem distant at all. "Say goodbye, Dean." He flinched hard at the sound of the gunshot, but the pain lasted barely a heartbeat.

TBC