4.

Despite a long and somewhat loud argument from McCormick, he had been driven back to town the following week for his doctor's appointment. They were followed by their assigned police escort. Despite McCormick's constant survey of their surrounding area, nothing untoward happened.

The drive back from town had been more relaxed, Mark smug about his clean bill of health. "Told you that I was okay."

"You're still below your normal weight," Hardcastle reminded him. "Although the way you eat, you'll be back to full poundage in no time."

As Mark began to respond, he heard a loud crash from behind. Twisting halfway around, he saw a large semi tearing down the road after them, their police guard helplessly spinning across the road to slam against the safety rail. "Judge, we've got company and our babysitters are out of the equation. Better put the pedal to the metal."

A quick glance in his side view mirror confirmed to Hardcastle that they needed to hurry. "Take Millie," he ordered, holding his arm out to allow McCormick access to the weapon.

"Got her." McCormick removed his seat belt, turning around to lean his arm and head out the window. The wind beat on his back as he tried to get a clear shot. "That thing's a tank!"

They continued racing, the semi gaining on them with every curve. The window of the chase trusk was spider-webbed, but holding in place. Mark decided to focus his shots there. "Damn it! I'm almost out of ammo, Judge."

"Then you'd better make your shots count," Hardcastle responded as they came around the last big curve before arriving at Gull's-Way.

Unfortunately, there was a garbage truck slung partway across the road. Yelling to McCormick to hang on, the Judge slung the steering wheel to the right, leaving the pavement of the road. With a yelp, Mark found himself flung into space as the truck door came open. He fought to hang onto the metal frame with one hand, but the momentum was too much and he flew out of the truck into the brush alongside the roadway. He hit the ground hard and could barely catch his breath, caught in paralysis as his eyes took in the fact that the pickup was caught on the edge of the drop-off. The borrowed gun went flying off into the distance.

He heard the semi's brakes squeal. It couldn't avoid the garbage truck completely and slammed into the back of the heavy truck, bouncing toward the GMC. Screaming, Mark forced himself to his feet, running for where the vehicle sat, a target for the out of control chasing semi. "JUUUU-DGGGGE!!"

The truck exploded when the semi hit it, the blast throwing Mark back onto the road. He had a moment of horror before the back of his head hit the pavement and everything went black.

H&McC

"What the hell happened?" Frank Harper flew through the emergency room doors, Bill Collins barely keeping pace with him.

"They were being chased. Your guys were taken out." At Harper's sharp glance, he quickly added, "they've shaken up, but alive."

"And?"

"From what we can tell, Hardcastle almost made it to the estate. Unfortunately there was another vehicle blocking the road. He avoided it, but the semi chasing them didn't. The pickup got hit and exploded on contact."

"What about Hardcastle and McCormick?"

Collins' breath blew out. "It appears from the road burn that McCormick was thrown from the vehicle before it exploded. He's got some first and second degree burns from the explosion on his face and chest area."

"And Milt?" Harper hadn't been made aware of the details, only that there was an accident and that he needed to hurry to the hospital.

"I'm sorry, he never got out of the vehicle."

Harper stopped short, turning to face the FBI agent. "What?"

"If it's any consolation, the blast probably killed him instantly. I doubt he felt anything."

"You're telling me that Milt Hardcastle is dead?"

Collins nodded slowly. "I'm afraid so."

"I…" Harper didn't know what to do. He felt the blow to his heart and had to move to the support of the hospital's wall. A rush of memories overwhelmed him. He had known Milt Hardcastle since he first joined the force, as police officer and lawyer and judge. It seemed impossible that anything could have happened to the big, bluff, burly man who was so much larger than life.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Lieutenant." Collins stood nearby, looking uncomfortable as he repeated the trite phrase all law enforcement officers used when reporting the death of a friend or relative.

"How is Mark taking it?" Harper asked, regaining his equilibrium.

"He doesn't know."

"What?"

"As far as I know he hasn't regained consciousness."

"Let me tell him. I don't want Mark to hear it from strangers," Harper said, a momentary look of discomfort crossing his face. "I need to see him."

"I'll arrange it. Wait here," Collins ordered.

"No, I'm coming with you."

Shrugging, the agent passed Harper, leading the way to the private room that contained the surviving member of the government's witnesses.

Frank stopped at the doorway, struggling to contain his reaction. His young friend was bare-chested, his face and chest shiny with some sort of burn salve. His eyes were opened, but just a sliver. Frank moved closer to the bed, Collins stepping to one side. "Hey, Mark, you with me?"

There was a hesitation as if McCormick had to process the question. "Y-yeah."

"Do you know what happened?"

"Uh, chased…garbage truck in road…thrown out…Judge?" Mark frowned, his eyes sweeping the room. "Hardcastle!" He tried to rise, only to fall back onto the bed. Tears sparkled from under his lashes. "Frank, where is he?"

Reaching out to gently touch forearm, Frank leaned in close. "He didn't make it, Mark."

"No!!" The moan came from deep within.

"I'm sorry, son."

Mark turned his head away, trying to hide the tears leaking from his red-tinged eyes. He struggled for control.

"I'll leave you alone."

"No! I want…I need to see him."

Harper looked to a frowning Collins. "Mark, I don't think that's a good idea."

"I won't believe it, can't believe it until I see his body. Not after Clarence."2 Mark's voice was becoming stronger, although the devastation on his face was painful to see.

"McCormick." Collins stepped forward. "I have to agree with Lieutenant Harper, it really isn't a good idea. The truck exploded and burned. There wasn't much left of the body to see."

Mark looked stubbornly at both men. "I don't care. I made the mistake of believing him dead once without seeing a body, I won't make that mistake again."

Collins exchanged glances with Harper before nodding. "Fine, I'll see what we can do about arranging something. Let me make a few calls, check with your doctors, okay?"

"'kay." Mark closed his eyes.

With another gentle touch on his friend's arm, Harper spoke. "I'll be back, Mark. Just rest a while." He followed Collins out into the hallway. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"I don't either, but if I've learned nothing else since meeting that young man, it's that when he gets an idea in his mind, nothing will remove it." Collins chuckled. "He's a lot like Judge Hardcastle in that."

Harper smiled sadly. "Yes, he really is."

"I'll contact you as soon as the medical examiner is done with the body."

"Thanks, Bill, I appreciate that." He watched Collins walk away before running his hands over his face, grieving for his old friend. "Damn it, Milt, how could you do this to us."

H&McC

Despite Mark's vehement protests, his doctor refused to allow him to leave the hospital for a trip to the federal morgue. Finally, Harper had had enough and made a proposition.

"Would you trust me to verify it?"

Mark nodded slowly. "Of course I would, Frank, but I can't put you through that."

"Yet it's okay to put yourself through it? Look at you. You can barely stand, you're covered with painful blisters, you're hooked up to an IV. You need to take care of yourself."

"I just…I can't believe it, Frank. I can't really believe he's really gone." He pressed his hand to his eyes, holding back the tears.

"I can't either, Mark. But this isn't Clarence. You're not alone and the powers that be aren't in a conspiracy to deceive you."

"You're right. I know you're right, Frank. It's just hard to believe it, that someone so alive could be gone."

Frank grimaced. "I know."

"If you're really satisfied that this isn't some cruel joke, a misidentification…"

"I only wish it was, Mark."

Nodding his head slowly, Mark sniffed. "Then we remember him like he was, not what those bastards made him."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I am."

A nurse came into the room, tall and graceful as she checked her patient. "Do you need anything, Mark? The doctor has authorized some painkillers if you need them."

"No, Robin, I'm okay."

Frank closed his hand over Mark's clenched one. "Don't punish yourself."

"What? I don't know what you mean."

"You're hurting. I can see it by the way you're holding yourself."

"I've felt worse. And I've got a lot to do, people to contact. I can't afford to be doped up."

"Like I said, you're not alone. Let us help, let your friends help." Frank spoke in a gentle tone.

"Thank you. I need the Judge's Rolodex, if you could bring that from the estate."

Frank noticed the tremor in Mark's voice, but pretended not to. "Not a problem. Do you have your keys?"

"Yeah, here." He reached into the bedside drawer and dropped them into Frank's waiting hand.

"What else?"

"I need to know when…when the body can be released to a funeral home."

"I'll check with Collins. The FBI currently has custody of him."

"Do you know what funeral home took care of Mrs. Hardcastle?"

"I'm sorry, Mark, I don't. It's probably in his personal papers. I'll check for it if you want."

Mark gave a forced smile and a tense nod of consent. "That would be a big help."

Frank watched as Mark pulled the telephone onto his lap. "Who are you calling?"

"Sarah, first. I don't want her to hear about this on the radio. Hardcase is…was a pretty big deal in this state. His death is bound to be on the news up in San Francisco." He swallowed hard and bit back tears. "Then I guess I'll call the Aunts. They should be able to tell me where Gerald is."

"Mark, if you'd rather, I can do it," Frank offered.

"No. He'd expect me to handle it."

"Okay. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Try and get some rest."

Mark let out a long, audible breath. "I don't think that's gonna happen for a long time to come, Frank. There's just so much to do."

Frank nodded, patting Mark awkwardly on his shoulder before slipping out the door, leaving his young friend to begin the round of phone calls to notify friends and family of the tragedy.