Obsession

Disclaimer: See Prologue

A/N: I truly appreciate all of your reviews. You guys are awesome!

Chapter 27

James Picarry stumbled once again and hit the ground hard. A groan escaped his lips as he painfully pulled himself up to a sitting position. He remained still, afraid to move until the pain subsided. Finally, he carefully stood up, cursing his partner the whole time for leaving him behind.

"Damn Alexis anyway! " he thought darkly. " What the hell had happened to him? The man had been just a couple of feet in front of him and then suddenly he had vanished, along with his share of the money.

Breathing heavily, he pushed through the thick brush, trying to shove it to the side as he struggled forward in his search for the trail and his partner. Somehow he had lost his way, wandered away from the trail that he and Krill had been following. Now that the moon was finally up he could see where he was going, but it was too late, he was hopelessly lost.

Frustrated and angry, he raised his gun skyward and fired off three rounds. "KRILL!" he yelled, as he turned around in a circle. "HEY KRILL!" Picarry fired two more rounds but only silence answered him in return.

"DAMN YOU KRILL!" he yelled again but almost immediately began to cough and he doubled over, holding his side. "Must have broken at least two ribs in that crash." he muttered to himself. He staggered a little to the side and sat down slowly on a rock to help ease the pain.

He started to glance up at the moon but paused. Narrowing his eyes, he focused on a flickering light on the mountainside. "Was that a fire?……yeah, it was a fire." Chuckling to himself he stood up and started walking toward the light. His luck just taken a turn for the better.

"Probably some hiker." he thought and then a malicious grin spread across his face. "Or maybe it's Krill."

3333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333

P-1 had passed under the first oak tree when the gunfire erupted and immediately slipped under a chaparral bush. He crouched low to the ground, his ears turned outward, facing the direction of the loud popping sounds.

His raised his head and focused on the distant dancing lights. He knew the broken one was there, but he was also getting the scent of another man-creature. His nose rose higher and his head swiveled back toward the oaks, the blood scent was stronger now, but he really wasn't that hungry yet. His head turned back toward the mountainside, but he was curious.

P-1's curiosity got the better of him and he turned back toward the dancing lights, after all, he could always come back here.

33333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333

Charlie jumped at the sound of the gunfire. It was distant, but the fact that he could hear it at all was unsettling. He was wide awake now and he tilted his head to get another view of the faint glow up on the mountainside.

"That has to be Bashere or maybe those other two guys." he mumbled softly. "but that isn't what woke me up, there was something here. He glanced at his watch, midnight, the night seemed to be getting longer instead of shorter.

"Maybe the gunfire scared it off." he thought worriedly. "Hopefully it won't come back."

Charlie leaned back against the tree and crossed his arms, wincing when his arm fell against his side. He lifted his shirt and noted with relief that his cut had finally stopped bleeding.

The young man sighed and lowered his shirt then zipped up the jacket. The night had grown cooler, just enough to make it uncomfortable, and he glanced over at the distant flames. "Not that uncomfortable." he muttered.

Charlie settled back against the tree trunk and glanced skyward. Another five almost six hours until sunrise. There was no chance of sleep now, he was way to tense to even consider the possibility, so he focused on the sounds around him and resigned himself to the wait.

3333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333

Don stared across the empty parking lot and the two-lane road that wound it's way throughout the entire park. On the other side of the road was a small hill, dotted with trees, rocks and chaparral bushes that continued to rise for thousand of acres until it reached the highest peaks of the Santa Monica Mountains. Tonight that mountain was his enemy and it had defeated him. But only for tonight, daylight would allow him to seize control again and the mountain would not be able to keep him away. But that was a two-edged sword, he decided, because he desperately needed that morning light and yet…he also deeply feared what it's light would reveal.

Don stared gloomily at the mountain but his mind was taking him places that he did not want to go. Macabre visions swirled through his mind; Charlie lying dead at the crash site, Charlie running for his life through the mountains, chased by a hungry mountain lion, Charlie still in the clutches of that madman being forced to do his bidding and yet another vision of him jumping off of the cliff to escape Bashere. Don was so lost in thought that he didn't hear the door open or the ranger step out on the porch.

"Agent Epppes?"

Startled and a little embarrassed that he had been caught of guard, Don cleared his throat and answered without turning around. "Ranger Cromwell, I thought you had gone home."

"This is my home, I keep a cot in the back room."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to take over your house." the agent responded apologetically.

"Oh, that's okay. I do have another house, but I spend most of my time here since I lost my wife last year." the ranger responded softly.

"I'm sorry for your loss." This time Don did turn around, tilting his head upwards to look at the ranger.

"Thanks." The ranger responded a little uneasily, he still didn't talk about it very much. " Hey, ah, would you like a cup of coffee? I just brewed up another batch. Do you take sugar or cream?"

"Yeah, sure." Don answered. "Thanks, and black is just fine."

The ranger nodded but hesitated with his hand on the door. "Listen, would you mind keeping an eye on Riggs for me?"

Puzzled, Don squinted up at the ranger. "What's a Riggs?"

Smiling, the ranger pointed downward. Don lowered his gaze and locked eyes with a pair of liquid brown eyes.

"Does he bite?" the agent asked cautiously.

"Nah, here take this." he said, shoving the handle of a leash into Don's hand. "I'll be right back." he added as the door closed behind him.

Don gripped the leash and stared at the small dog. It reminded him of Lassie only a lot smaller. The dog didn't bark at him, just stood there silently watching him. The ranger returned a few minutes later and took a seat on the step next to Don as he handed him a cup of coffee.

Cromwell retrieved the leash and motioned for the dog to come to him. It eagerly padded forward until it was standing between Don and the ranger. The older man smiled and spoke to the dog.

"Riggs, say hello to the nice FBI agent."

The dog tilted it's head to the side as if it were trying to decide if it really wanted to do that or not. After a moment he slowly sat down on it's back legs and Don smiled with mild surprise as it raised it's front right paw toward him. He extended his hand slowly and shook the soft paw.

"Hi, Riggs." Don said and released it's paw.

The dog put his paw back down and sat looking up at Don as if it were waiting for him to do something.

The agent glanced sideways at the ranger. "What does he want?"

"Oh… he usually he gets a treat for shaking hands. Hang on a minute." Cromwell searched through his jacket pocket and pulled out a small dog biscuit. "Here, hold out your hand, palm up,"

Don stretched out his hand and the ranger placed the biscuit in the palm of his hand.

"Okay, now keep your hand flat and lower it to his level." he instructed.

Don lowered his hand and waited in anticipation for the dog to go for the treat, hoping that he wasn't going to get bitten in the process. Much to his surprise, Riggs very gently removed the biscuit from his hand and sat down between the two of them to eat it.

"Wow, I didn't feel a thing." Don said as he ran his hand over the dog's silky body. Riggs didn't seem to mind the attention and when he was finished with the biscuit he licked Don's fingers in return.

"What kind of dog is he?" he asked as he continued to pet the dog. Don couldn't explain it but for some reason the small dog seemed to be having a calming effect on him.

"Riggs is a Shetland Sheepdog and he has such good manners because my wife spent a lot of time training him. She taught him that little handshake trick… among other things." his voiced choked up and he paused to take a sip of his coffee. " He still misses her too, I catch him every now and then looking around for her but it's just the two of us now, so I try to spend more time with him." another sip and he added. " Smartest dog I've ever seen."

Don could see the man's discomfort , obviously the ranger still missed his wife a great deal so he tried to give him a little time to compose himself. "Riggs, that's a Scottish name, isn't it?"

"I suppose so but that's not how he got his name." the ranger smiled and scratched the dog behind the ears. "My wife was a fan of Mel Gibson and she loved the character that he played in those "lethal weapon" movies,… you know the ones I mean?"

"Yeah, I liked them too." Don nodded his head, a slight smile forming on his lips for the first time that evening. "So, she named him after Martin Riggs, huh?"

The ranger laughed out loud, "Yep and there were some days that she would tell me that she had made a mistake by naming him after such a wild man."

"Yeah, why is that?"

"Because on those days he lived up to his namesake." the ranger answered with a knowing look.

Don looked at the well-behaved dog that was gently licking his hand and he just couldn't picture him being any other way. "Come on, your pulling my leg."

Cromwell laughed heartily. "Trust me, in his youth he was a wild and crazy dog."

He reached over suddenly and rolled the dog over to rub his belly. Riggs seemed to take delight in the belly rub and wriggled around under the ranger's touch with his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. He rolled back over again and snuggled closer to the ranger, laying his head on the man's lap. Cromwell placed a protective arm around the little dog while he quietly sipped his coffee.

Don glanced at Cromwell, he knew what the man was trying to do. The ranger was trying to get Don's mind off of Charlie, off of the terrifying ordeal that he would have to face in the morning and it had helped, he realized. He was more focused now, the dark thoughts pushed back for a little while longer. Don liked this man, there was something about him, something that reminded him of his own father.

Riggs raised he head suddenly and rose to all four's. He froze in a standing position staring intently at the mountainside directly across from them.

"What does he….?" Don started to ask until he saw the ranger follow the dog's eyes and tense up.

"Agent Eppes, don't make any sudden moves!" Cromwell spoke urgently. "Turn your head slowly toward the mountain and try to find the point that Riggs is staring at and even if you don't see what he is looking at keep your eyes on that spot and don't look away!"

Slightly bewildered, Don asked. "What am I supposed to be looking at…..I can't see a thing." The agent tried squinting his eyes but he was still unable to locate the source of the dog's odd behavior.

"That's okay, just pretend that you do . I guarantee that the dog has made eye contact with it."

Frowning, Don started to turn his head toward the ranger but a resounding "No!" stopped him immediately.

"Do not break eye contact!" Cromwell hissed .

The urgency in the man's voice prompted him to remain in position and he continued to look for the object that was upsetting the ranger and the dog.

"Ah…..now I see it."

"See what?" Don muttered desperately.

"There is a lion less than 50 yards away and right now he's accessing the success of an attack. Do you see him yet?"

"No!" Don hissed back as he placed his hand on his gun holster.

"Follow the dog's head to the large sycamore and then look at the base of the tree and you'll see it."

Don swallowed nervously and followed the ranger's directions, sure enough as his eyes descended to the bottom of the tree he found two very large yellow eyes staring back at him. He exhaled a gasp and the ranger's voice kept him steady.

"Good, now once again, do not look away. If you break eye contact or turn your back on him he will attack and trust me on this, he is fast. He would get to us before we could reach the door."

"Uh, huh…..so what's next?" Don asked, as he glared back at the cat.

"The first thing that we are going to do is to stand up slowly. Right now, from his perspective we are the same size. Hopefully, once we stand up he will change his mind."

Cromwell extended his arm around the dog and easily scooped him up. He cradled him tightly in his arms and twisted around on the step putting himself in a better position to stand up.

"On the count of three we'll stand up together. One…two….three."

On three they both began to rise and were soon standing together on the bottom step of the porch; all the while maintaining eye contact with the ever watchful mountain lion.

Don was out of his element here and he was more than willing to follow the ranger's instructions. Give him the streets of LA and all of the criminals that he had to face there and he was perfectly capable of handling the situations without a blink of an eye. At least he could predict to a degree what their next step might be. This situation, however, had never been a scenario that he had ever considered.

"Now what?" he asked quietly.

"Now we see if it still wants us for dinner."

The ranger made the comment so casually that Don almost glanced over at him. How can he remain so calm? I'm sweating bullets here and he's not even breathing hard."

They watched in silence as the cat started to creep forward, staring at them intensely, eyes never wavering, slinking from bush to bush until it was near the edge of the road but still partially hidden behind a chaparral bush.

"This can't be good." Don muttered as he hurriedly unsnapped his gun holster and pulled his gun free. He quickly released the safety and held it up before him as he took aim.

Cromwell mumbled quietly. "Let's try to get inside and maybe you won't have to kill it?"

"Your worried about the cat?" Don asked in incrediously, his eyes still focused on the cat.

"Well, they are a protected species and it would be a shame if you had to shoot it but having said that I have no intention of becoming a snack. I hope your aim is good because you won't get a second shot."

Under different conditions, Don would have marveled at the beauty of the creature. It seemed to move in one fluidic motion and it's eyes were mesmerizing . As they watched it left the protection of the bush and glided slowly onto the road.

Out in the open and in the bright moon light Don could see it clearly.

The muscles in the lion's body seem to ripple as he crept forward. It's body and head were low to the ground and it's ears had turned forward. The long tail was twitching back and forth and his rear legs were pumping gently up and down.

They were near the door now but even Don knew the attack was imminent. He steadied his hand and took aim and just when he was about to pull the trigger a cloud drifted in front of the moon and the cat all but disappeared, he no longer had a clear shot.

"Damn!" He muttered, he would have to wait until he had more light, he couldn't afford to miss.

Don's hands were sweaty, but he kept a firm grip on his gun trying to keep his aim between the yellow eyes, silently praying for the moon to break free of the clouds.

"Get ready!" The ranger spoke tensely as he backed toward the door.

Just when it looked like the cat was ready to pounce, headlights illuminated the area, startling not only the lion, but Don and the ranger as well.

In an instant, the cat had vanished.

Don frantically looked around for it as his SUV and another car parked in front of the station. He turned slowly in a circle, his gun ready to fire, but it was as if the lion had never been there.

His team members jumped out of the car, guns drawn, and hurried over to his side.

"That was a mountain lion!" David exclaimed incredulously.

"Yeah, man, haven't you ever seen one before?" Colby commented dryly, as he scanned the area.

"I grew up in the Bronx, remember Colby?"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot."

"Was that it?…. that P-1 they were talking about on TV?" Megan asked breathlessly.

"No, that was a young lion. He's new to this area, he hasn't been tagged yet." Cromwell said. "You can put your guns away now, it's gone, it won't be back tonight."

"Yeah, well, I think I'll keep mine out until we get inside" Don muttered. "Come on."

It wasn't until they had stepped inside the station and put their guns away that Don got a good look at the driver of the other vehicle.

Surprised he turned toward the man and extended his hand. "Ian, I don't know how you found us, but I'm glad you're here."

33333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333

Picarry tightened the grip on his gun and made his way toward the welcoming firelight

It took him longer than he thought it was going to take but he finally made it to the rocks and the brightly burning fire. Panting he sank down to the ground just out of sight of the opening and tried to peer inside. The recess was far enough back from the flames that all he could see were shadows on the rock walls. As he watched, the shadows separated and he could see an arm holding a bottle of water, then disappear out of view as the occupant took a drink. He licked his dry lips, suddenly realizing how thirsty he was. Krill had been holding out on him the whole time, the dirty bastard had water all along and had kept it from him. Picarry smiled grimly, Alexis was going to pay dearly for that little deception, as well as leaving him behind.

He stood up and bent his arm behind his back to conceal the gun in his hand. The mercenary stayed just out of view. "Hey, Krill, is it okay if I come up?" he called out in a friendly tone. "That fire sure looks inviting mate, and I could really use a drink of water."

The voice that answered wasn't the one that he had been expecting and he tensed up with the first word.

"The fire was meant to be inviting…mate….but not for you." Bashere's cold voice resonated from the cave.

"Shit, he survived!" Picarry thought, as he desperately tried to come up with a story. "Ah…Mr. Bashere, it's …I mean, I'm glad that you survived the plane crash."

"Really?" Henri's voice took on a sarcastic tone. "Is that why you came to help me?"

Picarry swallowed hard. "Look, we were coming to check on you when the fed's sent a helicopter up , honest, but we had to fight and….. and…hide in the woods, and then we got lost. Can I come in now, I'm really getting cold."

"No, you may not. Ironic isn't it. You had enough time to take my money but not enough time to help me and now all of that money can't keep you warm. Pity you didn't think of the bigger picture Mr. Picarry." Bashere paused and took another sip of water, deliberately holding it so the mercenary could see it."

"Toss in the money bag and I will consider letting you join me."

"I….I don't have it. Krill took it and we got separated." he stammered out as his eyes followed the movement of the water bottle.

"Pity, then you don't have anything to offer me, do you?" Henri responded coldly.

Anger was clouding his thoughts and he latched on to the one thing that he knew Bashere cared about. "Where's your precious professor? Did he run away from you? Is that who you were hoping to "invite" to your fire tonight?"

Basher's voice was low and menacing. "Be very careful Mr. Picarry, your next answer could cost you your life. Have you seen him, and if so, where?"

"You heard the shots, maybe I killed him or maybe I know where he is. Let me in and I'll tell you what I….." Picarry stopped in mid-sentence, glancing at the bushes behind him. Nervously, he peered into the shadows around him , he was sure that he had heard something. Quickly, he turned back toward the cave and stepped forward until he was standing in the light of the fire.

His eyes were wide with fear and when he spoke his voice was filled with terror. "I think there's something out here, please Mr. Bashere let me come in and I'll tell you what I know."

"You'll tell me now or whatever is out there can have you. Did you kill him?" Bashere hissed.

Picarry was trembling now and he wasn't sure if it was from what was in the bushes or from the man inside the cave. Nervously, he turned and sprayed a round of bullets into the darkness. In his agitated state it took him a few minutes to realize that he had run out of ammo. Desperately he searched through his pockets for another cartridge but they turned up empty.

Panic-stricken, he threw his gun down and ran toward the fire. A bullet hit the ground in front of his feet and he stopped so fast that he stumbled and fell to his knees. Shaking visibly now, he lifted his eyes to meet Bashere's and begged for mercy.

"Please, let me come in. I…..I didn't kill him….I didn't even see him, I swear."

"Wrong answer Mr. Picarry, the right one would have been that you knew he was alive and where I could find him. I have no use for you."

The frightened mercenary held ups his hands, pleading. "Wait, I can help you find him…you'll have a better chance if the two of us look for him. Please!" he turned his head briefly to check the area behind him and his eyes widened in terror. He struggled to his feet and turned to face Bashere. "Please….there's something behind the bushes!" he panted "Please let me come in!"

"I have reconsidered Mr. Picarry, I believe there is something that you can help me with." Bashere coldly answered as he raised his gun and pulled the trigger.

Picarry's relieved smile faded quickly and in shock he looked down at his stomach. He stumbled to his knees, holding his hands over the bleeding hole that had opened up just above his navel. The color was already draining from his face as he brought his eyes up searching for the Frenchman.

"Why….why…shoot…me." he stammered, as he desperately tried to stem the flow of his blood.

Gun in hand, the Frenchman stepped over the flames and stood over the wounded man.

"Why?" He shrugged his shoulders indifferently. "As I told you, I have thought of something that you can do for me."

The Frenchman squatted down until he was eye level with the man. "You see the professor did get away from me and he's somewhere out there in the dark." he motioned to the space below them. "But here's the thing, he's injured and bleeding, and if there is indeed a predator out there, it will smell his blood and go after him." he paused to gauge the man's reaction. "You have a chance to do something noble tonight Mr. Picarry, even though it isn't voluntary. Your sacrifice will hopefully save my young man's life." Bashere relished the sheer terror in the man's eyes. "After it feeds upon you, it will have no need to go after my precious professor….will it?'

Picarry closed his eyes, whimpering. "No…please…no…don't…." he collapsed suddenly and lay on the ground looking up at the Frenchman. He was having trouble breathing and his face had taken on a white pallor as his body began to go into shock and not just from the loss of blood; Bashere's words had sealed his fate.

Bashere came to his feet and looked down coldly at the man. "Good by Mr. Picarry." He bent over and grabbed the man by the ankles and slowly drug him to the edge of the slope, ignoring his weak cries for mercy.

"I'll…..see…..you…n' hell." The mercenary whispered.

"Perhaps." Bashere responded with amusement and without another word he kicked the dying man over the edge of the slope and listened to his screams as he slid down the mountainside.

333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333

P-1 had watched silently from under a bush as "the broken one" kicked the other man over the side of the mountain. He quietly followed the man down and waited for him to come to a stop against some rocks. He crouched under some chaparral and warily watched the top of the slope. This was too easy, it must be a trap. He waited only a few feet from the bleeding man and finally the blood lust took control of him.

33333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333

The Frenchman turned and went back into his cave, making himself comfortable once again. He tossed more wood onto his fire just as the screams began. Unmoved by the man's screams, he listened intently for ten minutes before the last strangled cry was torn from Picarry's lips.

"Who would have thought that the man still had enough air in his lungs to scream for that long." he chuckled to himself.

Silence reigned once again on the mountainside . Bashere sighed and lay down on his side so he could face the opening, gun at the ready.

"Perhaps now the beast would be satisfied and leave Charlie alone." he thought. "Charlie." the name brought a smile to his lips. Tomorrow he would find him, of that he had no doubt.

333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333

Charlie twisted around on the branch again at the sound of the gunshot. He couldn't see anything but the faint firelight but the shot had echoed loudly through the mountains. He sat up suddenly and strained to hear what he thought were screams, but they were too far away for him to be sure.

"It could have been the wind." he told himself. Another forty-five minutes passed before he started to relax and he refocused on the stars above him. His thoughts turned to Amita and he felt like his heart was going to break. Charlie couldn't get that last vision of her out of his mind. Her arms and legs were taped to the chair and tears were sliding down her cheeks, whispering his name over and over.

"Hang on Amita, I'm coming back to you." he whispered to the moon. "I promise…just…please don't give up on me."

33333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333

P-1 finished cleaning himself and stretched out lazily. The fear smell had been really strong on that one, not like "the broken one" on the mountainside. He had never tasted man flesh before but it wasn't that much different than a deer. He yawned widely, it had been a most eventful night and as he stood up to return to his cave, the blood scent that he had originally followed wafted to him on a breeze and his gaze fell upon the grove of old oaks.

3333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333

Charlie was still staring at the moon when he felt the hair rise on the back of his neck again and an uneasy feeling settled between his shoulder blades.

"It 's back, the thing that was here earlier, it's come back." he thought frantically.

Alarmed, his eyes drifted over the ground below him...nothing; frowning, he checked out the other side….still nothing. He couldn't look at the trail behind him without physically turning around and possibly giving his position away and that wasn't a risk he was willing to take. The tree trunk was large enough to hide him completely so he really didn't have to worry about being seen from the rear.

So he just sat there, unmoving, listening to every rustle of the leaves as the minutes passed slowly by. The silence was beginning to unnerve him and it suddenly occurred to him how silent it really was.

"Where are the night birds and the insects?" he thought and his heart began to beat faster. He desperately peered into the shadows where the bright moonlight couldn't reach. Charlie almost stopped breathing when he realized what that silence truly meant.

"An animal , some type of predator, nothing else could silence a forest like this. Oh, man, please don't let it be one that climbs trees!"

Charlie could smell it now, a heavy musky odor that surrounded him. It seemed to soak into him and it was so thick that he almost gagged from it's stench but he managed to control the reflex.

His expressive brown eyes widened in terror as he watched it move from the shadows to stand directly beneath him.

"Oh, God!" he whispered.