Justice by InSilva
Disclaimer: all these chapters in and they still don't belong to me.
Chapter Thirty-one: Ending
It was a little before three in the morning L.A. time. There had been an eruption of hope as Danny had let Livingston know that they had a firm lead and Reuben had sat listening with the others first to the stream of fast and furious and female Portuguese and then as those down in Rio headed towards the bar.
His uppermost feeling was relief that they finally had something that seemed concrete to work on. And then he'd looked round the room and noticed that Tess was missing. Reuben found her standing staring out of his bedroom window at the lights in the streets below. She sensed his presence at her shoulder and turned round.
"Sorry, Reuben, I was just trying to find a quiet place."
"I understand," he said and looked at her shrewdly. "How are you holding up?"
She flashed him a quick little smile. "OK, I guess. It's all a little tense, isn't it?"
It was. He had to give her that. None of them wanted to stray far especially not now. And still all they could was sit and wait. No one was really talking either. Silence was all there was.
"Why?" Tess asked suddenly. "Danny and Rusty. Why did they ever become criminals?"
Reuben wasn't sure if he was meant to answer.
"I mean look at Rusty. He could have been a model or an actor…he's beautiful, Reuben. Anyone can see that. He could have made a fortune out of it. And it's not like he's dumb. And Danny…" she sighed. "Danny's hardly unintelligent either. And just the way he is with people…he could have gone into politics or law… Why did they go into crime when they could do anything?"
That was the problem, Reuben wanted to tell her. Together, they could do anything. And the way the rest of the world made its living wasn't right for either of them. He said nothing and put his arm round her. It appeared to be the right thing to do.
"Is it always like this?" she asked in a whisper.
He wondered whether he ought to point out that this actually had started with Rusty being on the right side of the law. It didn't seem as if Tess would care greatly.
"No, no," Reuben said truthfully. "This is about as bad as it gets." He paused and then, although he was unsure it was strictly helpful, added, "Usually, it's a lot more fun."
She sighed as if she wanted to believe that.
"Have you spoken to Danny?"
"Little while ago," she replied shortly.
She'd sat and heard Rusty find this man he'd been chasing, the man who'd hurt Danny.
"It took me forever to work out, you know."
She knows exactly what the man's talking about. The "friendship" that was so much more. And she is experiencing firsthand what it means to Rusty and what it means to Danny.
When she hears this man, this Vincente, talk about Danny and about what he'd done to Danny and how Danny had acted, it twists her up inside; especially "He didn't beg or plead or cry or scream".
Then had come the slowly dawning horror of what was happening with Rusty.
"What's Rohypnol?" Virgil had asked a moment before she was about to and first Yen and then Basher had explained.
The look on the others' faces, tense and wide-eyed, as Rusty was led away. And Danny's voice over the top of it all, the "Please, Livingston" which hurt so much to listen to.
"Is he safe?" she'd asked when they'd heard the splashes and everyone had exchanged glances before Reuben had said, "We can hope".
There'd been hours of nothing before they'd heard Rusty speak and known he was OK.
"That's good, right?" she'd whispered to Basher who was sitting alongside her.
Basher had sighed. "Yes and no…" and she'd shrunk down into the chair.
She didn't want to call Danny and get in the way but after a while she could stand it no longer. She had to speak to him. Livingston made the line private and she'd disappeared into their room.
"Danny? I…I've been listening…oh, God, Danny!"
"Tess…"
There was a pause and she imagined him walking into another room. She heard her name in his mouth again and he sounded painfully weary as if he couldn't even bring himself to offer proper comfort.
"I'm so sorry, Danny. Rusty…that man was going to…oh, Danny! I'm so sorry!"
The tears ran down her cheeks and she wasn't even certain what she was apologising for. There was silence for a moment and then Danny spoke. And it was the first time she'd ever heard him talk to her in this way.
"It's not looking great, Tess. We've got miles of beach and God knows how many villas. They could be anywhere."
She hated that he sounded so drained and so vulnerable.
"I…I can't bear it," he whispered. "He's going to die because of me. And all I can do is listen to it happen."
She listened to him breathing heavily and swallowing the tears and couldn't think of a thing to say. Except that Saul had been right back at the hospital.
"This man…Vincente…he knows what he's doing. I mean Rusty's been through some tough rides and been in some hard places before. But Vincente is just..."
She realised she'd stopped crying.
"You'll find him, Danny, I know you will."
"I will, Tess, and I hope you understand that I need to. I honestly have to."
Of course she knew. She'd sent him to Rio, hadn't she?
"I can't even promise you that I know which way it would go. I just have to try. I am sorry."
And that was when she understood him and shock gripped her and pushed her into speechlessness.
"I love you so very much, Tess."
His voice was warm and tender and she could picture the look in his eyes that made her melt.
"I love you best I think in the morning. When you lie beside me and you wake up and your hair's everywhere and your eyes aren't fully awake… You're just irresistible then, you know."
"Danny…" She forced herself to say something.
"Tess, you're going to need to be brave. Can you be brave for me?"
Could she? Oh, God, she had to be.
"Yes, Danny." And her voice was strong and loving and she knew that he needed to hear the strength and the love. "I can be brave."
"That's my girl, Tess. I'm going to go and freshen up."
And he'd hung up. She'd looked down at the phone in her hand turn more and more blurry.
Reuben felt her arms go round him and hug him. He'd promised Danny he'd look after her. And he knew that if necessary that meant long-term as well as short-term.
"Hey!" Virgil stuck his head round the door. "Rusty's waking up!"
They'd gone to join the others. And while he hadn't wanted to understand exactly what was happening the other end of the phone line, Reuben had understood enough. He'd glanced over at Tess and while she looked as if she really hadn't got that much of an idea of exactly what was happening, she could certainly hear the pain and the suffering and the unblinking whiteness of her face was awful. Reuben wanted to hug her all over again.
The villas were made for the well-to-do to relax in and enjoy themselves. They were next to each other but not on top of each other and that meant more ground to cover but made Livingston's job easier.
"You're there!" Livingston said excitedly. "You're there!"
A few paces ahead of the others, Danny skidded to a halt and stared at the villa. He'd broken into flats and houses and banks and jewellers and museums and casinos and vaults but suddenly this was the most important building in the world.
"Thank you, Livingston," he said, the emotion rich in his voice and pocketed the phone.
As he started to move forward, the first of the others who happened to be Miguel arrived.
"I don't want any civilians hurt," Miguel instructed, pulling Danny back with a strong hand. "My men are going in first."
Danny knocked his hand away but Miguel grabbed him again.
"I can arrest you here and now," he warned. "I can handcuff you and march you off and by the time I get back here, this Vincente may be a little bit gone and your friend may be a little bit dead."
He meant it. Danny could tell. Somewhere, he could see Saul's face, silently talking him back from the edge and he fought with himself for a moment and then relaxed in Miguel's grip.
"OK," Danny whispered. "Please, just…"
Miguel nodded. "You wait here."
Danny looked at him. Like that would be happening.
It seemed that Miguel could read Danny.
"Alright," he sighed. He looked round at the others who had appeared. "You and only you come with me. And I promise I will shoot you myself if you get in the way. Are we clear?"
Privately, Danny thought that if Miguel got in his way, he'd be committing a little violence of his own.
"This is it?" Turk asked.
"This is it," Linus confirmed.
And Saul closed his eyes in silent prayer.
Miguel sent four men around the back and he and two others moved towards the front door of the property with Danny. It all seemed to be moving far too slowly for Danny's liking. His instinct was to charge straight in and it was currently demanding the reason why he was waiting. His logic was busy arguing with his instinct that Miguel and his men had guns and were better placed to take Vincente out. Instinct wanted to know why he didn't just grab a gun and make a move. And logic had no answer to that. Danny's eyes fell on the gun in Miguel's hand and he started to reach for it.
"Don't make me regret bringing you," Miguel said warningly to Danny. "Stay here and let me and my men do our job."
"I have to…" Danny couldn't get the words out because yards...maybe just feet away, he might be losing him, right now, and it was unspeakable agony.
"Trust me," Miguel said and Danny found himself looking into brown eyes that promised him he knew what he was doing.
OK…
Miguel nodded and scooted up to the front window, peering in. He jerked his head and his other officers moved forward to his side, guns drawn. Miguel muttered something low into his radio and then all hell broke loose. Doors were stove in, there was shouting and chaos as Miguel and his men moved inside.
Danny gave them five seconds. Five whole seconds. And he prayed that wasn't too long because if it was, he would never forgive himself.
"You know what I can't understand, Mr Ryan? Why you didn't just go along with what I asked of you. Because sure, I understand you may not agree with certain aspects but you are above everything such a practical person."
Well, Vincente was never going to get the why for that one. Not even if Rusty felt like telling him which he didn't.
He felt the edge of the funnel pushed hard up against his lips. Lips that felt so raw. He tasted the blood in his mouth again and yet again tried to prepare himself for the onslaught. The trouble was this was not like any other pain where he could take himself away. This came down to the water and the need to breathe. There was nothing else to occupy his brain once the water started flooding in to him.
Vincente pushed the funnel in place and used all his strength to hold it there. Rusty could hear the slight change in the running water that meant the jug was nearly full. He breathed through the funnel and waited for the water to arrive.
"I think this will be it, Mr Ryan," Vincente announced. "If I can't persuade you to share the information, then I need to assume the worst. And I have already lost a good few hours' lead. It's been interesting to know you. Really it has. You have enriched my experience in life."
Rusty was wondering if this wasn't one of the better ways to go. At least it would be quick. He sucked up lungfuls of air and then the water came.
It was steady and unstoppable and he was weaker now than when it had started but the urge to fight, even if this was the very end, was something he could never change in himself. He felt his reservoir of oxygen begin to run low and he started to twist and turn to try and shift the damn funnel. It wasn't moving. He knew it wasn't moving. But if he could just move it…if Vincente could just…because now, it was getting desperate. Now, he needed to breathe. Now, he needed air. Had to have air. Had to breathe. Had to, had to, had to…and surely about now was the time when the water stopped and Vincente took the funnel away and he was allowed to breathe, allowed to live…but still the water came and as he kicked and struggled, part of him knew this was longer, this was surely longer than it had been and maybe Vincente really meant it and this was the end, this was death and no more of anything and anyone…and any one…and any…Danny…
Suddenly, the pressure on the funnel disappeared though it was still in his mouth and even as he was speculating on what game Vincente was playing now, he took the opportunity to turn his head and dislodge the funnel so that it fell to the floor and he could breathe again, could live again, live a little longer…
And there was noise and voices and a struggle and grunts of pain and guns being cocked and… "Alive!" he heard in Portuguese, "Keep him alive!" and as he threw up, the noise and the voices disappeared and he was left alone and wondering.
Five seconds up, Danny ran towards the house. He reached the front doorway before he was bundled backwards by Miguel's men, dragging Vincente out, his hands cuffed in front of him. Vincente looked up at Danny with incredulity and then he nodded to himself with quiet understanding.
"You know, if you want something doing, you just have to do it yourself," he said.
Danny didn't have time to waste on him. Not at that moment. He pushed past Miguel's men and into the villa, moving through the front room and stopped dead, taking in the horror of the breakfast bar and the large spoon, its handle lying on a tea-towel, its bowl being licked by the gentle flames of the hob and the ropes and the sight and the smell of the copious vomit and the funnel on the floor and the jug on the side and the tap running relentlessly and Rusty… Rusty… Rusty... bound and naked and rope marks on his skin and bruises on his stomach and an angry burn on his shoulder and blood, so much blood and shredded skin and bruising round his mouth and bandages around his eyes… He stopped dead and took it all in in a second and the next second, he was moving and running up the kitchen steps and he was there.
"Rus…" He put a hand up under Rusty's jaw, the beard roughly smooth against his fingers and rubbed his cheek lightly with his thumb, avoiding the mess that was Rusty's mouth. "I'm here."
"Danny…" It was part-choke and part-relief and part-fear. And the fear wasn't for Rusty himself. "Vincente…?"
"Vincente's gone," Danny said quickly. "It's safe." You're safe. We're safe.
Rusty gave a little faltering breath and Danny read how close it had all been. Miguel appeared behind him and Danny looked over his shoulder.
"I'm going to get him out of here. Can you tell the others he's OK and to give us a minute?"
Miguel nodded and vanished.
Danny rifled through the drawers, looking wildly for a knife. Grabbing the biggest, meanest one he could find, he sawed through the rope around Rusty's hands and tried not to look too closely at what the rope had done to his wrists. He turned his attention to the other knots and finally pulled Rusty free and sat him up, away from the trails of vomit around his head. Danny put his hands up to the white bandage covering Rusty's face and swore as he realised what it was. He ran his hands round Rusty's head.
"It isn't solid at the back, Rus. I can cut through it."
"Watch the hair," Rusty's voice scraped in his throat.
"Don't tempt me."
Strong blades scissored their way through the bandages.
"OK. Swing your legs round this way to face me."
Rusty did so and Danny hesitated for a moment. "This is going to hurt…"
Laughter ripped hollowly from Rusty and Danny didn't need to see Rusty's eyes to read the I think I can handle it. The mask came free pulling with it some hair, some eyebrow and some eyelash. Danny looked at Rusty's face, at Rusty's eyes, blinking at him: the pain and the awfulness and the fear of it all just a layer away. He looked at the blood and the marks around Rusty's mouth and swallowed, picturing the struggle, Rusty fighting as only he could and Vincente, inexorable and unrelenting. There were many things he could say. Many things he didn't need to.
He settled for "You need a shave".
Rusty grinned and his mouth started slowly bleeding. He wiped the blood away absentmindedly.
"Did you get shorter while I was gone?"
"I think you'll find the breakfast bar adds inches."
Rusty shook his head. "That's what you say."
"Stay put. I'll find you something to wear."
Rusty looked down at himself. "I need to go wash up, Danny."
"You need the hospital, Rus," he said firmly, ignoring the exasperated noise he got by way of reply. He was not in the mood to take any nonsense.
He found Rusty's clothes piled neatly in a corner and headed back to Rusty who was staring at the hob.
"A spoon…" he said wonderingly. "Who uses a spoon?"
"Alan Rickman," Danny pointed out, turning the gas off.
True.
"You know the advantage of not being able to breathe through your nose?" Rusty asked as Danny rinsed out a dishcloth and wiped around Rusty's neck then dabbed the worst of the blood away from round Rusty's mouth. Without waiting for the answer, he added, "Not being able to smell."
"I can see how that would be a plus point." Danny put the cloth down and studied him. "We need to get you checked out."
"I'm really fine," Rusty said, shaking his head at Danny's face and struggling into his shirt.
"It's not up for argument."
Rusty changed the subject. "Can I ask how?"
"The short version is luck, Livingston and Linus."
"Huh. Look forward to the long version."
Rusty made to jump down to the kitchen floor but his legs gave way and he fell against Danny who grabbed him to him. They hung for a moment, heads together, hands on arms, fingers clutching tightly.
Then Rusty said, "This may be illegal in Rio."
Unlikely.
"If I take my hands away are you going to hit the deck?"
Possibly.
They looked at each other for a long moment.
I got you.
I like that you do.
"Let's finish getting you dressed before Linus and Turk see you."
"Linus and Turk? I'm surprised they aren't in here already."
"Saul," Danny said as if it explained everything. And it did.
Between them, Rusty found his way in to the rest of his clothes.
"Well?"
Rusty stood still for Danny to inspect him. Danny looked him over. You could no longer see the bruises or the burn and the rope marks were hidden. Rusty's skin was a little rough where the plaster had been but nothing too much. But Rusty's mouth…oh, Rusty's mouth…
"Not going to hide it, am I?"
"Not a chance."
Rusty sighed. "I don't like to share."
"Actually…" Danny was almost apologetic.
"What?"
Danny turned round looking for something and finding it. He delved into pockets and produced two phones.
"Yours, I believe."
Rusty frowned at it, remembering. "Trophies…but not trophies…"
"Because he isn't into trophies."
Rusty stared at him and blinked heavily and then looked back at the phone.
"You're transmitting all the way to L.A.," Danny said by way of explanation and also warning.
Oh, but that means…
Yeah.
Everyone?
"Even Tess."
Rusty's face briefly creased in annoyance and then settled into resignation.
"Livingston?" he said experimentally and then held the phone out so that Danny could hear the whoops and cheers and applause.
"Rusty!" Livingston sounded as if he wanted to burst into tears. "I'm so pleased you're alright!"
"Me too. Thanks, Livingston. Catch up with you later."
He ended the call and Danny looked at him.
"You ready?"
"Let's do it."
They walked down through the front room, Danny's hand casually around Rusty's elbow. And then as they emerged blinking into the bright Rio sunlight, they met Saul and Linus and Turk. And while Turk and Linus looked as if they weren't sure whether they were going to laugh or cry, Rusty stood in front of Saul and Danny saw the unspoken that was all about apology and I had to on one side and understanding and relief on the other.
"Rusty, your mouth is…" Linus began and then shut up.
Rusty started smiling and bleeding again. "It was this or the collagen implants."
"Where's Vincente?" Danny asked Santos who had hung back a little.
"In a prison cell by now."
"Rusty, this is Santos…I don't know your last name," Danny confessed.
"Diaz. Santos Diaz."
"Thanks. Santos and his son and his brother helped us find you. And for that, we owe you," Danny addressed the last to Santos who shrugged and smiled.
"Thank you," Rusty said, adding, "And we believe in honouring our debts."
The attack at the villa had been sudden and unexpected and for once, he had been caught completely unawares. And as he had been in the process of watching the life drain away from Ryan, he had been more than a little slow to react. He'd gotten a good couple of blows in. One of the policemen would be nursing a broken rib or two and another had had his cheekbone fractured. But he was in the worst place to try and fight: cornered in a kitchen with no exits and he'd simply been overwhelmed.
The journey to the police station had been uneventful but he had hopes that once he got the police chief on his own, he might be able to persuade him to an outcome they would both be happy with.
"What I like about this world," Vincente said as an opening gambit as he was escorted, still in handcuffs, down the corridor, "is what money can buy."
"It can buy plenty, Senhor," Miguel assured him and as he showed him in to the cell, Vincente saw exactly what he meant.
"Hello, Vincente."
"Nicholas." Vincente shook his head and sighed. "I thought you'd retired."
"Oh, I did." The man with the silver hair and the silver-topped cane smiled. "It's surprising what can tempt a man back."
"Speaking of which…?"
"Sorry," Nicholas said gently and finally.
Vincente nodded. It had been worth a shot.
"They've offered me more if you suffer," Nicholas remarked.
"I see."
"But actually, I don't need the money that much."
"Thank you," said Vincente sincerely. He thought for a moment. "Do I have the opportunity to put my affairs in order?"
"Yes. I think that will be permitted."
Vincente looked down at the handcuffs and Nicholas shook his head.
"Too many men have underestimated you, Vincente. I am not one of them."
Reluctantly, Rusty had submitted to Danny's insistence that he be examined by a doctor and had been ordered to immediate bed rest with nil by mouth for 48 hours until his body had moved further along the way to recovery. 48 hours before they would let Rusty fly back to L.A. where Turk and Linus were headed and where Saul had been persuaded to go only on the understanding that Danny and Rusty were not planning on any more escapades.
"Nil by mouth!" Rusty had grumbled all the way to the private room.
"You listen to what the nice doctor has to say," Danny advised.
Rusty had showered and now lay on the bed having a drip inserted in his arm by a dark haired nurse with dancing eyes.
"This isn't really necessary," he tried to argue with full dazzle as Danny rolled his eyes.
Immune to the Rusty charm, the nurse laughed and continued in her task.
"Get used to it, Rus," Danny advised.
"But no food!" Rusty complained. "That's just so wrong!"
Danny looked at the huge box of chocolates on the side that Saul had found and his mouth twitched.
Quit griping.
Rusty scowled at him.
It was later. Rusty was under the sheets, resting. Danny was lying on top of the bed. The television was playing a soap opera in Portuguese and Rusty occasionally translated for Danny's benefit. Gradually, he spoke less and his eyes kept closing. Then he turned towards Danny and made himself comfortable, burrowing in to Danny's side.
Danny gave it a moment or two till he was certain Rusty was pretty much gone and then he reached over carefully so as not to disturb Rusty, and picked up the box off the side.
"You are an idiot," Danny said softly, looking down at Rusty. He turned his attention to the chocolates and his hand hovered over the strawberry crème.
"Not that one."
He looked down sharply at Rusty whose eyes were still closed but who had a smile forming on his face.
"You sure?" Danny asked. "Because I could describe it to you."
Rusty's eyes half-opened. "You have a really mean streak, you know that?"
"Get some sleep."
You're not leaving.
Never.
"Mmph."
The mean streak and I will still be here when you wake up.
Ana-Luisa pushed open the door to the private room and stopped in her tracks.
The blond patient was lying in his friend's arms: they were both sound asleep. The beard aside, the remains of strain on his face aside, the angry gash that was his mouth aside, the blond was gorgeous. His "friend" – and she understood at once why the nurse she'd taken over on shift from had put that word in inverted commas – was dark and handsome. What a waste for womankind, she thought.
Ana-Luisa hesitated. She was supposed to take the patient's temperature; just an ordinary and routine check. He looked so peaceful though. They both did. And she really didn't want to disturb. She backed out of the room. The ordinary and the routine could wait.
A/N: Hideously long chapter and I'm sorry but I didn't think it fair to break it. And that's pretty much it apart from the inevitable epilogue.
Thank you to everyone who's read this. It's been a long journey from my original outline and I'm thrilled that people stuck with it. InSilva is off for a nice lie down.