Jack staggered against the door and raised his arm to block another blow. Mac grabbed Jack by the shoulders and pulled backwards. A metal baton slammed into the wall where Jack's head had been splintering plaster. Mac lost his balance and both men tumbled to the floor. Air whooshed out of Mac's lungs. He looked up to see Rijad Dedic lift a gun fitted with a silencer. Mac swore and shoved Jack to the left and rolled to the right. The carpet popped up from two shots. Jack rose to his hands and knees shaking his head. Mac launched himself at the stubby dark-haired man. Both tumbled backwards into the bedroom. The Bosnian assasin slammed his elbow down between Mac's shoulders. A white flash seemed to burn down Mac's spine. The blond found he couldn't move. Mac belly flopped to the carpet.
Rijad floated to his feet and stomped Mac in the side twice. The assasin's face was impassive, almost bored. He raised the pistol to shoot Mac in the head. The snap of a gunshot echoed and Rijad's shoulder snapped back. He shot at Jack who knelt in the doorway. Jack ducked back into the living room shooting with one hand around. Dedic grunted as two shots hit his chest. He growled turned and ran across the small room diving out a window over the bed.
"Holy shit!" Jack bellowed and dashed over to the window. He glanced out pointing his Baretta. Other than broken glass there was no sign of Rijad. Jack ducked back, holsering his Baretta.
"Mac?" Jack asked wobbling toward his partner. Mac moaned and pushed himself to sitting. Mac shrugged his shoulders trying to ease the bunching in his muscles.
"You ok?" Mac asked his partner. Jack reached a hand down and helped Mac to his feet then needed to be steadied by the younger man. Jack wiped at the stream of blood flowing down the side of his face and swayed. Mac took him by the upper arms and sat him on the bed looking into his dark eyes. Mac carefully probed the multihued bump on Jack's head. Jack hissed and pushed him away.
"Stop that, I'm fine."
"That was a hell of a blow." .
"Whatever, are you ok?"
"I'm fine, Jack. I'll be right back." Jack closed his eyes and leaned his elbows on his knees. It wasn't as bad as it could have been. An expandable baton is deadly in the hands of a professional, and Jack didn't doubt the proficiency of Dedic. Jack took a steadying breath. His head throbbed, every pulse beat hurting. His vision didn't have the blurred outline he knew he'd get if he had a concussion. Mac stepped beside him and Jack felt an ice pack gently placed over the lump. Jack closed his eyes and hissed. After a minute, the cold began to sooth the ache and swelling. Jack let out a long sigh and looked up. Mac was leaning backwards out the window. Jack's eyes widened and he raced across the room to grab Mac's belt. Mac glanced down surprise then amusement on his face. Jack closed his eyes.
"You're gonna kill me kid." He muttered. Mac chuckled. His expression changed as he saw something off to the right above the window. He glanced at Jack.
"Hold on." Mac then scooted even farther out the window. Jack gritted his teeth dropping the ice pack to put both hands on the kid's belt. Jack set himself, ready to yank his partner inside if needed. Mac then reversed directions and worked his way back into the room. Jack bent and picked up the ice pack glaring at Mac. Mac didn't notice. Mac was covered in sweat. He swiped his forehead and pushed back his moist hair absently. Jack watched him with a frown. He knew Mac wasn't still 100 percent, but the kid was soping wet. Jack reached out and layed the back of his hand against Mac's forehead. Other than being drenched, his skin felt normal. Mac ducked back startled.
"What're you doing?"
"Dude, you are soaked with sweat." Mac blinked at him and shook his head holding up a tiny black piece of metal. "What's that?"
"I think this is how our assassin got away. He had some sort of rig attached to the building above the window."
"He went up?" Jack sighed feeling very stupid.
"Not necessarily, he might have rented one of these nearby apartments." Mac handed Jack the piece of metal and turned away pulling out his phone. Jack held up the fragment.
"What the hell am I suppose to do with this?" Jack mumbled. Mac was already in the living room. Jack sat on the bed after sliding the small bit of metal in his pocket. He held the ice pack against his sore head and studied the room. This smaller bedroom looked to be Jin Yu's. It had soft yellowed wall paper with tiny white flowers. The bed was basic, with only a straight weathered board as frame. Beside the bed was a narrow dresser of drawers. They were all open and thrown into a pile, folded clothes spilled under their pile. Jack set aside the ice pack. On top of the dresser several pictures in frames remained in unbroken frames. The destruction in the rest of the house had somehow missed this tiny corner of history. Jack's jaw clenched. Most of the pictures were in black and white- some obviously folded multiple times, some stained, some ripped.
The oldest showed 80 year-old Jin Yu as a girl. She wore a traditional dress. Jack thought it looked like a long flowered quilt, a kimono maybe? Jack could tell it had been bright with color even in the shades of gray. Her hair was back in a braid and her feet were impossibly small-foot binding. Young Yu's face had a shy smile she was obviously trying to hide. Jack sighed looking at the one beside it. Yu was now in the solemn black uniform of the comunist party. She stood stiffly, a huge scar ran down her face along her jaw and down her throat. She held up a sign in chinese, Beside her in identical garb was a short balding man whose face was heavily bruised, a tall boy knelt in mud in front of them, his hands tied, his face hidden behiind a short fringe of black hair. A young girl half hid behind Yu's hip. Jack could easily see Fai's features in the girl. This was Yu's family, probably right before they had escaped the Mao regime. Jack didn't know many facts but she knew that Hu and Yi, Yu's husband and son never left Chinese soil alive. Jack swallowed and turned away feeling like an intruder in the old woman's life.
"Jack!" Mac yelled. Jack tossed aside the ice pack and flew out of the room, pulling the Baretta as he ran. He found Mac in the larger master bedroom. Jack scanned the room and saw no danger. He holstered his pistol. Mac was crouched just inside the double panel doors of the walk in closet. His partner squatted back. His face was pale. His blue eyes met Jack's. Jack's heart dropped seeing the tragedy there before he reached the kid's side.
"Oh, man." Jack sighed banging a fist against the closet door. Thrown into the closet was the body of Jin Yu. The old woman's hands were bound by wires that cut deeply into the thin parchment skin of her wrists. Blood had dribbled down the simple nightdress from her mouth and nose. Bruises covered the old scar the communists had marked her with. Her forehead was washed with blood from a single bullet hole that cored through her head. Her eyes stared up at them holding the same resignation to pain and fear that stared hauntingly from her pictures.
"They tried to get information." Mac said softly. His voice was hoarse but composed. "Then shot her." Jack knew that despite his matter-of-fact tone, Mac was just as upset as he was. Jack swallowed, but he couldn't get any words past the lump in his throat. Jack closed his eyes and stumbled out to the living room. He sat on the couch and took in the broken Chinese ripped cloth and shattered pottery. Jack stared at a broken bamboo cane thrown across the room. In his mind,he saw Yu chiding him for flirting and again felt the cane slap into his head. Jack smiled at the memory and wiped his face.
"Dammit." Jack jumped at a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up to see Mac looking at him with concern. The younger man sat beside his partner. He looked at the mess around them and let out a long breath. Jack frowned. In the familiar sky colored eyes he saw a hint of the same resignation he'd seen in Yu's eyes. Jack sat back and stared at his partner. Mac frowned puzzled.
"What?"
"Are you ok?" Jack asked. Mac looked a shade paler and sweat now ran freely down his face. Jack noticed that Mac had taken off his leather jacket and had rolled up the arms of his shirt which hung limp with dampness.
"What? I'm fine. Why do you keep asking me that? I told you I'm almost back to my normal." Jack opened his mouth to answer then closed it again shaking his head. They sat in silence for a long minute. Mac stood up and began to pace.
"I called Matty, the cops should be here any minute, but…"
"She wants us skedaddled." Jack sighed. Sometimes this job really sucked.
"Yeah, we have to…" Mac's voice trailed off. Jack looked up as Mac steppped through the rubble and crouched to pick up a small cardboard box. It was sealed ready to mail. Mac crossed back over to Jack and showed him the box. There was no return address, but the box was addressed to the Bosnian Consulate. Jack looked up at Mac wide eyed. He glanced over to the bed room.
"What were they into?" He murmured.
"And where's Fai? C'mon Jack we gotta go." Mac retrieved his jacket from the kitchen, but didn't try to wear it. Jack followed him out of the apartment. Jack glanced once back at the shattered life. His jaw clenched. When Jack saw Rijad Dedic again, he promised to even the scales.