OUT THERE

Chapter Twenty Two

"We are all human, and our senses are quicker to prompt us than our reason. Every man gives off a scent, and that scent tells you how to act before your head does." (Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, 'The First Circle')

So many questions fighting to be answered first - but one thing Adam knew. This man was dangerous and he had no qualms about inflicting pain to serve his own purpose, whatever that may be. Elma must be protected at all costs.

And so, with a shiver of insight that some would call courage but he only saw as fear, Adam turned his face away from the subtle threat and smiled at Elma. It was a grimace, at best, but it seemed to work as her eyes narrowed, ever so slightly, and the link between them was restored. "Adam..."

"Hi there," he told her softly. Kneeling at her feet, he could see just how thin her legs were, and how frail, sticking out beneath the hem of her long skirt, clad in cheap, thin stockings. She was a little wren, quiet and safe in her nest, unaware of the cat that lurked behind her, sharpening its claws.

"Is it... nine?"

"Even later, I'm afraid. Long day... But I'm here now, okay? It's alright." He could feel the brother watching him even as he spoke; a silent menace. What was he doing there? What did he want?

"I was starting to worry." She frowned, and peered at Adam through the mist that was creeping past her eyes once more. "It's cold on the hillside... snow in the air... Where's Da?"

"Safe and sound," Adam whispered, swallowing hard. "We're all safe here, Elma - I promise..."

He could not risk a glance behind him, but as he continued to speak words of quiet reassurance, Adam let his hand drift down to the floor, where his finger trailed along the carpet...

K...

N...

I...

Adam knew without a doubt that Mac would be watching. He had to warn him somehow and reveal the extent of the danger before it was too late. The brother's message had been silent but shockingly clear. One false move and Elma would pay the price.

F... E... He slid his fingers back to rest against his leg; never once looking down, never once looking up at the young man whose very scent filled him with terror. Elma's face was his whole world right now. Subconsciously, he studied the lines that creased her forehead, trying to ease his panic.

"I saw that." The voice was a whisper, and no one else heard it.

Adam's skin crawled and the blood in his veins turned to ice-water.

"Sorry," he mouthed - but whether the word was meant for Elma or the man behind her, he couldn't have said. Lifting his eyes at last, he saw the brother's right hand twitch around the concealed blade. No more chances, Adam realised, just as the old lady drew in a sharp breath and sat up as straight as her bones would let her.

"David!" she cried.

Was she speaking to shadows now? Adam felt the air shift at his back. He twisted his neck to glance over his shoulder... and up at his startled boss. Uncomfortable in the extreme, Beth-Anne lurked in a corner, watching the drama play out from a distance. Her brother, meanwhile, kept silent, as though he were waiting for something. So strange... Did Elma even know that he was there, Adam wondered. And then came a darker thought - was he there?

Stop that, his brain insisted. He clambered to his feet, feeling oddly vulnerable down on his knees.

Elma was gazing at Mac with a challenging expression. "David," she said again, "where have you been?"

Time seemed to flicker and catch, like an old movie reel, as everyone held their breath and waited for the answer. Confused by the hesitation, Elma's face fell.

"I... I don't..." she murmured, shaking her head. Adam's heart bled to see her so lost. In that moment, his boss stepped forward, taking Adam's place as the younger man fell back instinctively. Bending down, Mac grasped Elma's hand.

"I'm sorry - I should have come sooner," he told her gently. His eyes flicked up at Beth-Anne's brother, stealing his attention in a sudden, naked challenge as he spoke to the woman again. "Here, let me help you..."

Faster than thought, he slipped his other arm across Elma's shoulders and swept her out of her seat as though she weighed no more than the cushion beside her. Clutching her against him as he turned, Mac himself was the shield that protected her, as the brother lashed out spitefully, robbed of his leverage.

Thank God, Adam thought, even as he gasped to hear the blade rip through Mac's coat. His boss gave a grunt of pain and he reached out to help him - only to find that Elma was now being thrust into his open arms. The old lady keened in fright. Adam clasped her tightly, feeling her tremble against his chest. Her fragility scared him. "It's okay; I won't let go," he whispered, trying to steer her across the room to safety. "It's Adam. I've got you..."

The look that she turned on him was hostile at first, but then, as her eyes locked on his, she let out a shuddering sob and grew limp in his grasp. He staggered, thrown off balance by the sudden extra weight, but managed not to drop her. At the same time, a terrible crash made his head snap round.

Fuelled by rage and disappointment, Beth-Anne's brother had vaulted clean over the couch and launched himself straight at Mac, just as the detective freed his Glock from its holster. The gun was knocked out of Mac's grasp before he could take aim properly and the two men toppled to the floor in a hopeless tangle of arms and legs - and one silver blade.

Adam tried to set Elma down on a nearby chair but her grip on him was rigid by now and he could not bring himself to peel her fingers away. He burned to help Mac, but Elma deserved his protection too. The dilemma was shocking. Mac's gun was nowhere to be seen, having spun out of sight amongst the cluttered furniture. Without his Glock, he had only his strength and his training to count on - and he was clearly growing tired. There were several slashes through his coat sleeves and Adam's sharp eyes could already make out an ominous smear on the carpet as Mac rolled away from the brother's latest effort to impale him.

"No!" Adam cried out, "please! Get off him!"

He struggled, first with his conscience, and then with the old lady in his arms, trying desperately to untangle himself without hurting her.

"Stop!" screamed a voice behind him. "Stop or I'll shoot, Kyle... an' I don't care if I hit you too!"

The two men fell apart. Mac dragged himself backwards, coming to rest up against the base of the couch. His jaw was rigid and his coat was dark with patches of blood. Using his right hand, he gripped his left arm tightly.

Kyle rose to his feet and shot a poisonous glare at his sister. "I had him," he hissed.

Beth-Anne gulped. The gun shuddered violently in her hands and she seemed to have no fixed idea in her head about aiming as she switched targets convulsively. First Mac... then Adam and Elma... then Kyle... then back to Mac. It was all too clear that she had never held a weapon in her life before - and she was terrified.

"You promised," she moaned. "You said... after him." The gun swung back towards Adam, far more lethal than a pointing finger. "No more knives. No more hurting people."

"I was only trying to protect us," Kyle told her, forcing his thin lips into a heartless smile. "But I like your way much better." He held out his hand. "Give me the gun, hey, Bet? You don't know what you're doing. I'll handle this."

"Don't do it," Mac told the girl through clenched teeth, frowning up at her. "Just put the gun down. You don't want blood on your hands, believe me..." As if to convince her, he held up his stained fingers for a moment and then clamped them back around his forearm.

Adam could hear the fluttering edge of pain in his voice and it scared him. Elma's little-old-lady scent caught in his throat as he held the tiny woman in his arms and fixed his own eyes on Beth-Anne in wide appeal. "Look," he began, "this is all wrong, okay? I thought you were Elma's friend. So am I... You don't want to hurt us; I can see that. We both can... right, boss?" He appealed to Mac, who nodded grimly.

"He's your boss?" Impossibly, Beth-Anne's voice rose even higher. "Then he's a cop too, jus' like you are. You're gonna arrest me... I don't want to go to jail..." The word soared beyond the range of human hearing and her face filled with panic. She tightened her grip on the Glock. Adam turned away from her slightly, trying to shield Elma even though he knew that, if a bullet came his way at this close range, it would probably tear right through him and take her as well.

"Then give Adam the gun," Mac said urgently. "Maybe you don't know me - but you know him... and that means you know he's a good man. He won't hurt you. We just need to get Elma some help, and right now we can't do that..."

Beth-Anne wavered. She took a short step towards Adam, who held his breath. In spite of the situation, he felt warm at Mac's words. A good man... Not a fool, or a waste of space. Not crazy, either... "Please," he told her gently.

"Beth-Anne?" Elma whispered, peering over his shoulder.

The girl let out a tiny whimper.

"Kyle?" she pleaded, turning towards him. "I have to. They're cops..."

"Fine," her brother said with a dangerous look in his eye. "Enjoy prison, Bet. Guess you won't need me any more. You'll make so many new friends." He stared at her, watching her jaw slacken. "Thieves. Drug pushers... murderers..."

"No..." she wailed. Four short steps, and the gun was in Kyle's hand. Beth-Anne fled to the kitchen, sobbing.

Adam's heart sank. Because now they were definitely in trouble.

Elma's twisted fingers hooked around his neck, pulling his head down until she could reach it. When she spoke, her breath tickled his ear. "Is this real?" she begged him in the smallest of whispers, glancing back at Kyle with a fearful expression.

"Oh, God... yes, I'm so sorry; it is." He stroked her hair instinctively, brushing a thin strand away from her face. Then he, too, looked at Kyle.

"Let her go," he said. "Please."

"You don't need her," Mac added. "You have us."

Kyle gave a strange, half-formed giggle and levelled the gun in Mac's direction. "Need her? Of course I need her. Maybe you're the one I can do without..."

"He's the head of the New York Crime Lab," Adam blurted out, full of desperation. "You kill him, they'll never stop. They'll hunt you down..."

"Adam," Mac hissed. But it was already too late.

Striding over, Kyle pulled Elma out of Adam's arms and flung her carelessly onto the couch once more, like a rag doll. Pushing upwards with difficulty, Mac flopped down beside her and cradled her in his blood-stained arms. They both stared across the room at Adam.

"David," Elma said, "what's going on...?"

No one answered her. Kyle was so close to Adam by now that the sharp scent was almost unbearable. "And you?" he asked quietly, looming over him. "What do you do?"

"Lab tech." Two little words that would seal his fate. They fell from Adam's lips before he could stop them.

Kyle looked scornful. The gun dug into Adam's ribs. "You're a geek, not a cop? Figures. That's the last time I ever listen to my sister." He turned and studied Mac. "Still, looks like you two have some kind of cute father-son thing going on here. What, he your pet or something? Time to save his life, oh great and wonderful Head of the New York Crime Lab. The old woman seems to like you as well - so it's up to you now. Get her to tell me where it is... or I guess there'll be one less geek in the world. You've got..." He checked the clock on Elma's wall. "Oh, let's say fifteen minutes..."

-xx-

A/N: Oops - another cliffhanger. SO sorry...

Hope you enjoyed this update. Thank you so much for all your recent reviews; they've been such fun to read.

And thank you to Channel 5 for finally showing "The Real McCoy". AT LAST!