Long Road Home – Chapter Twenty

As always, I remind all and sundry that I own none of the rights to Firefly.

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"Everybody clear on what's to be done?" Withe looked at the men around him. Three were from his own crew, and six more were hired thugs. All nodded in the affirmative.

"Remember, Reynolds has got a gunhand, and he and that soldier girl ain't no slouches either, so take them first if you can. But I want all of 'em dealt with. If'n you can catch the women, keep'em. They ain't important, so long as the job gets done."

"And the plant?" one of his own men asked.

"We'll take care o' that," Withe nodded. "Reckon a good fire will light the place up allright." The assembled men grinned at him in the fading light. Withe nodded again in satisfaction. He knew they'd go for the deal, once he threw the women in.

"Let's go, then," he ordered. "Want to get there right after dark."

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Jayne was outside, hiding in a good spot where he could see approaching trouble. He didn't know what was coming, but he could feel trouble. It would be tonight, he knew. He'd warned Mal, before slipping outside and taking up a watch. Mal had likewise informed the guards around the plant.

He'd also ordered Simon and Kaylee to stay on ship tonight, rather than in the small apartment over the infirmary.

Jayne looked up sharply as a slight movement caught his eye. He relaxed when he saw River ghosting up beside him. She wrapped herself around him, warming herself against the chill of the night with his body.

"Missed you," she said softly. "Wondered where you were."

"Waitin'," he shrugged. "Something's out of place, just can't put my finger on it."

"Feel it too," she nodded. He wrapped an arm around her, feeling to make sure she was wearing her armor. She smiled softly.

"Promised," was all she said, and he smiled back, kissing her forehead.

"That you did," he agreed.

"I will watch with you," River said, slipping her rifle off her shoulder, and settling in beside him.

"Sounds like a plan," he nodded. Together the two resumed the watch.

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Mal was sitting in Serenity's cargo bay, trying to relax. Jayne's warning had struck a nerve, and he was keyed up. If Withe was planning on leaving, then he would be likely to hit them quickly, and run.

Tonight was as good a time as any. Zoe and Tarrant were aboard Companion, watching and waiting just as he was. Tarrant was an unknown quality in his mind, but Jayne had reassured him on that point.

'He's good, Mal,' Jayne had said. 'Really good. Fast as a lightning bolt, too.' If Jayne was satisfied, then so was he. And Mal hadn't missed the looks passing between Tarrant and Zoe. He didn't know if that meant he was being more observant these days, or if they were just so obvious even he couldn't miss it.

Mal had mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, it looked as if Zoe wasn't being true to Wash. Deep down he knew that was just silliness talking, but still the thought persisted.

On the other hand, though, it was good to see Zoe looking more alive. She'd been withdrawn in the time since Wash had died, and Mal had worried many a night over his oldest and dearest friend. Maybe this was a sign she was coming out of that shell she'd built around herself.

And Tarrant was completely different from Wash, aside from his blond hair. Bigger, stronger, completely different background. So there wasn't much chance she was just seeing Tarrant as a substitute for Wash.

It wasn't really any of his business, anyway, he reminded himself, other than to make sure Zoe didn't get hurt. And really, that was all he cared about. Zoe was old enough, and smart enough, to make up her own mind without any guidance from him. He smiled, remembering how he'd tried to prevent her and Wash from getting together.

Zoe hadn't taken kindly to that at all. Mal had protested that he was only looking out for her. Zoe had thanked him for his concern, then punched him. Hard. His jaw had ached for a week afterward.

So this time, he had promised himself, he'd keep his mouth shut. He'd almost wrecked his whole crew a while back, jumping to conclusions about romantic entanglements, and he'd sworn never to do it again. And he meant to stick to that.

"Copper for those thoughts," Inara broke his train of thought. He looked up to see her standing beside him. He hadn't even noticed her walk in.

"Ain't worth it," he smiled back, and she settled in beside him.

"Cool tonight," she remarked, drawing her shawl closer. He hugged her to him.

"Yep," he agreed. "Be winter 'fore long, I expect. Harwell says most winters are passin' mild in these parts, though. Once this trouble is behind us, we'll look to get another house, or else build us one of our own."

"That'd be nice," Inara smiled. "It was good to have a place to call home that didn't move."

"Never thought I'd say it, but I agree," Mal nodded. "I miss it too. I'm sorry things worked out the way they did."

"Not your fault, Mal," Inara told him. "This wasn't your doing. You have done all you could to avoid trouble of this sort, and more than most men would have. It was just a house, and it can be replaced. It's the people that matter. Nothing else is important."

He looked at her proudly. He was a lucky man.

"I love you, woman," he said softly, hugging her tightly. "You know that, right?"

"It's still nice to hear," she murmured, lifting her head to press her lips lightly to his.

"Well, I'll make it a point to say it more often," he promised as their lips parted.

"Good."

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Barum Ball had never been accused of being overly smart. Despite having managed to have his own ship, and make a passing stab at making a living from it, he'd just never been the brightest bulb in the room. But he knew that, and he figured that made his smarter than some might think.

Right now, he was smart enough to know he was in trouble. He'd let Withe lead him into a hornet's nest. Now he was stuck, without enough funds to get away, except to Astra. He didn't figure that was far enough. He needed enough to get him clear out of the system, and tide him and his small crew over until they could find something somewhere else. Anywhere else. The last thing he wanted was to be here if that merc of Reynolds' survived whatever Withe was planning.

With that in mind, he had waited until Withe and his men had departed, and then went aboard the other's ship. Heading toward the bunk Withe used, Ball entered and began looking. He knew that Withe wouldn't trust anyone on his crew with his coin, so whatever he had, it would be here.

He didn't feel the least bit bad about what he was doing, either. Withe had led him and Jenk both into this mess with promises of coin to be made. And then left them hanging. He knew Withe hadn't called Jenk to warn him about Reynolds' other boat being inbound. If he had, Jenk might be alive right now.

Ball didn't really feel bad for Jenk's loss, but it was whatever he'd done that had stirred Reynolds' bunch up. Likely had to do with that girl. Ball shook his head at that. Never had met a woman he thought was worth that much trouble.

He opened a drawer under Withe's desk, and there lay a small leather bag. Ball picked it up, gauging it's weight. He opened the sack, and was rewarded with the sight of platinum. Several hundred, if he was any judge.

"Thanks, Withe old buddy," he smirked softly, pocketing the bag. He eased his way back off the ship. He'd taken two steps off the ramp when the voice stopped him.

"Evenin' Ball," Grippen said quietly from the shadows.

"Sheriff," Ball stammered, wondering is Grippen was watching the ship for Withe.

"Seen Withe?" Grippen asked, as if answering Ball's question.

"Nope," he shook his head. "Just went onboard to look for him, but no one's about. And that's a mite odd, being as he never leaves his boat unguarded."

"You wouldn't be puttin' one over on me, now. Would you?" Grippen's voice was too friendly.

"Not me, Sheriff," Ball assured him. "Maybe ain't the smartest around, but I'm smarter than that."

"Suppose you prove that by telling me where your buddy is, then," Grippen ordered.

"I'd imagine he's on his way to Guilford's place," Ball replied without hesitation. "He was planning on doing in Reynolds, and maybe Harwell too."

"Told you all that, did he?" Grippen demanded.

"Not in so many words," Ball replied. "But he took on several thugs over to Jovy's. Told 'em he wanted men who didn't mind the sight o' blood, nor an odd bit o' fire settin'."

"Cuttin' off his nose to spite his face, is he?"

"He ain't planning to stay," Ball told Grippen bluntly. "Says our bolt is shot here, and he's takin' out soon's he gets 'even', as he put it."

"Leavin' huh?" Grippen's voice was mild.

"What he says," Ball told him. "Said I was on my own. Came over to try and talk sense to him, but he's gone. Likely doin' whatever it is he's plannin'. Don't know that he's over there, just sayin' Guilford's is the most likely place."

"So you leavin' too?" Grippen asked.

"Can't," Ball shrugged. "Ain't got no way to go. Not enough fuel, and not enough coin to get any. I'm here, like it or not. Still kinda hopin' to get back in with Harwell, despite everything."

"Well, you see Withe, tell him I'm lookin' for him," Grippen said suddenly, and turned to go. He stopped after a few steps.

"And Ball?"

"Sheriff?"

"You can't lie worth a damn."

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Jayne was just starting to feel comfortable when he heard it. It was just a small noise, one that most people might have ignored. Or not heard at all.

But Jayne was not most people. He knew that the metal on metal sound was out of place in the still of the night. He turned to River, only to find her alert, rifle in hand.

'I heard it', her voice came to him.

'Go and tell the others', he told her. 'And be cautious. We don't know where they are, or how many.' She nodded, and slipped away silently. Jayne turned his attention to the ground before him.

The 'yard', as they referred to the area to the front of the landing pad, was fairly well lit, but various crates, boxes, and equipment provided ample shadows that would serve to hide an enemy. Jayne himself was hidden in a cluster of such crates.

His ears straining to catch the slightest noise, he scanned the area for movement. He smiled faintly as he saw a figure scurry forward, dropping behind a crate. They had no patience, whoever they were. He knew they likely worked for Withe, but that didn't mean that Withe himself was around, or that the men were from his crew.

But I might get lucky, and see him, he thought.

He raised Vera to his shoulder, sighting the crate where the shadow had hidden.

'The others are aware', River told him. 'We are ready.'

'Wait for them,' he thought to her. 'No count yet, could be few, or many.'

'I'm guessing few', her thought came back clearly. 'Withe will not waste money on hired help.'

She was likely right, he nodded to himself.

'Of course I am', he could almost hear her giggle.

'I know. Genius.' He smirked back, shaking his head.

'And don't forget it,' she teased. Jayne allowed himself another second to wonder at the link between their minds, then settled in. He had only seconds to wait.

The figure rose again, and scurried closer to the pad. Jayne allowed him to get almost to the next cover, then opened fire. Vera spoke, and the running figure stopped running, clutching his chest as he fell to the ground.

Suddenly the night exploded in gunfire. Jayne counted at least seven muzzle flashes, though none so close as the man he'd shot.

'One down,' he pushed his thoughts to River. 'At least seven more,' he added, sighting on one of the muzzle flashes and firing again. He was rewarded with a loud yelp of surprise as the heavy round burst through the crate, showering the hidden gun man with splinters.

Another figure ran forward, and this time there were no splinters, as Jayne put a bullet in the man's head. He felt River's presence behind him, and heard the familiar chugg of her silenced rifle. Another assailant fell. That was three down, at least four to go.

Mal had alerted the security guards around the plant that something might happen, and the three men on duty were all inside the plant. Gunfire from that direction told Jayne that someone was making a run at the facility. He hoped the guards were up to defending it.

River's rifle hissed again, and he heard the mental chagrin as her target ducked back just in time to avoid a head shot.

Jayne was ready as the man peeked back around, and his own bullet caught him. It wasn't a killing shot, Jayne noted, but it should keep him still for the time being.

Idly, Jayne wondered how Mal was doing.

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Zoe and Goldie had slipped outside as soon as River had warned them trouble was coming. Taking a position from behind some nearby machinery, the two watched and waited. Night fighting wasn't something that could be done in a rush, or without care. It was too easy to mistake friend for foe.

"Look," Goldie hissed, pointing toward the factory. "Three men, just past that pole light." Zoe spotted the men, and nodded.

"Mal told the guards to stay indoors if shooting started," Zoe noted. "So they aren't friendly. Probably," she added with a grimace.

"Don't think so," he agreed. "They're watching the plant, not the gunfight. You wait here, guard the ship. I'll just slip over and say hi." Before Zoe could object, Goldie was gone, disappeared into the night. She watched him go, anger starting to rise, until she realized why he had acted so. He wasn't trying to protect her, or tell her how to do her job. He was just better at this than she was.

She smiled ruefully at that. Goldie had disappeared in less than five steps. Just melted away into the dark. She knew she wasn't capable of that. And he'd known it too. With that thought, she turned her attention back to the gun battle. She knew roughly where Jayne and River were, but roughly wouldn't cut it.

So she gathered her patience, and waited.

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Mal resisted the urge to charge outside as he listened to the sound of gunfire rattling around him. Jayne and River were both in a better position than he was, and he new better than to go charging out into a night fight. No sense in his getting shot by his own people. Especially when those two were likely to hit him in the head or heart.

He could see Zoe in the dim light from Companion, but again fought down the urge to join her. His place was here. They'd agreed that someone would guard each ship, while the others fought the battle outside. His job was to watch over Serenity.

That didn't make waiting any easier.

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Goldie fought the urge to smirk as he slipped up behind the first man hidden in the shadows. His knife in hand, he grabbed the man from behind, and ran the blade along his throat. The surprised attacker had barely a second to realize his predicament before Goldie finished him, and lowered him to the ground.

Cleaning his blade on the dead man's shirt, Goldie surveyed the scene before

him. The remaining two men were steadily exchanging fire with the guards inside the plant. He'd have to be careful not to get shot by the 'good guys'.

Easing deeper into the shadows, he began to work toward his next target.

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Jayne and River had now accounted for four of the seven men trying to hit the ships. There were at least three more, though Jayne was sure one was wounded. But that didn't mean there wasn't another one out there somewhere. He looked at River.

'Three more before us,' she pushed the thought toward him. He nodded.

'At least four others, still,' she added. 'Goldie has downed one, and is working his way toward another.'

'Any idea where the fourth is?' he queried.

'Know he is there, but faint,' she replied. 'Watching. Waiting.' He nodded. That would be Withe. River nodded, catching his thought.

'I'll take these three', he told her. 'You watch for that fourth one.' She nodded her assent. Knowing that she would find the hidden Withe quicker than he could, Jayne would concentrate on those to their front. One of whom chose that moment to expose himself. Vera boomed again, and the count was one less.

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Withe bit back a curse as his plan came apart. He hadn't counted on anyone being outside except for those guards that Harwell had hired. And he hadn't expected any trouble out of them. Somehow Reynolds must have known he was coming. Damn him!

He debated on whether or not to run. His crew were all here, though, some likely dead already. He couldn't fly his ship alone. Or could he? Once in the black, he could head to Astra, likely hire a new crew. Then he would be able to get out of the system, and leave this colossal blunder behind him.

With that thought in mind, Withe began to withdraw. He could be in the black in an hour.

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'He runs,' Jayne heard River in his mind.

'Let him,' Jayne surprised her. 'Protect the ships, and the plant. We get the chance, we'll deal with him.' River nodded, pleased with Jayne's attitude. She had feared he would run after Withe.

'Made you a promise,' she felt his annoyance. 'Won't break it, not to you,' he added. She glowed with that knowledge, even as she cut down another of the men facing them. Promise to her was inviolate. Her Jayne always kept his promises.

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Goldie had taken another of the men attacking the factory, but the third had seen him. And got off a shot at him. He held his free hand over his wounded shoulder to staunch the blood flow.

It didn't feel too bad, but there was a lot of blood. He needed to get this guy quick, before he grew too weak. He levered himself up from his resting place, only to duck as a shower of bullets rained around him. He was taking fire from the guards as well as the bad guys now!

Swearing under his breath, Goldie worked his way around behind a large tractor, hiding in the wheel well, while trying to figure out where the last target was hiding. He heard a whisper of sound to his right, and turned just in time to see his intended victim flying at him, knife in hand.

Acting on instinct alone, Goldie threw himself backwards, bringing his own knife up in his bad hand. There was a satisfying thunk as the blade sank home, but he felt a sharp fire across his chest, and knew that his assailant had also found his mark.

Now bleeding from two wounds, Goldie checked his attacker for a pulse, but found none. His strike had done it's work. Now if he could just make it back to the ship before he passed out.

He was nearly there when his legs grew watery. He managed to gasp out Zoe's name before the ground came up to hit him. And then the world was black.