Flames seared his suit jacket. Horatio landed face down into the soft earth and covered his head with his arms as chunks of burning wood and scalding metal fell to the ground around him. When he was sure the barrage was over, he slowly picked himself up and shrugged out of the ruined jacket. He hissed at what had to be a first degree burn on his back, judging by the painful pull of skin at the slightest movement.
Standing, he began to search for his team. "Frank? Calleigh?" He called.
He heard a short burst of swears and swung around to find Frank picking himself out of some brush. Horatio reached down and gripped Frank by the elbow, helping him to his feet. "Are you alright?" Horatio asked.
Frank looked more mad than usual. "Just fine, H," he said as he dusted himself off. "That sombitch is gonna pay for this though."
Horatio nodded at him, then set off to find Calleigh. Police officers everywhere were slowly getting to their feet, shaking off the effects of the ear-splitting explosion and the violent concussion. He spied Ryan Wolfe off in the distance running over to him, waving as he ran. Horatio gave him a short wave back to let him know he was alright.
"Calleigh?" Horatio called again.
He heard a soft groan in the grass. Calleigh was rubbing the back of her head with a dazed look on her face. "What the heck was that?" She asked.
Horatio knelt in front of her, steadying her with a firm hand to her shoulder. "Calleigh, are you okay?"
"I think so," she said with knitted eyebrows. "I got a raging headache though."
Horatio helped her up but kept a hand on her shoulder while Calleigh fought to keep her balance. "Shoulda known that was going to be a trap," Calleigh muttered. She took one tentative step and faltered. She would have collapsed altogether had it not been for Horatio's quick catch. He held her with both arms while she clutched her head. "Sorry, Horatio. Just a little dizzy is all."
Ryan caught up to them, concern plastered all over his face. "He set us up," he angrily stated.
Horatio nodded, sore at himself for playing almost perfectly into Ron's hand. "It would appear so," he answered Ryan. "But he didn't quite get all he was hoping for."
Calleigh wavered on her feet. Ryan placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. Horatio nodded at Ryan. "Get her checked out."
Ryan held Calleigh up by the elbows. Horatio began to walk away. "Where will you be?" He called after Horatio's retreating form.
"In the office," Horatio answered.
Almost as quickly as Ron dialled the cell phone, he hung up, tucking the flip phone into the inner breast pocket of his sport coat. Kyle stared at him curiously, trying to gauge just what Ron was up to. Ron smiled down at him. Suddenly, it hit Kyle. Ron had just triggered something with the phone. Unbidden tears sprang to his eyes.
"No," he whispered.
Ron smirked at him. "Awww," he cooed melodramatically. "You really did care for him, huh? Even after that son of a bitch abandoned you for all those years, you really forgave him, didn't you?"
"You asshole!" Kyle screamed. With hands and feet still tethered, Kyle lunged viciously for Ron. Julia yelled Kyle's name in surprise. He knew he wouldn't get far, but that didn't stop him from head-butting Ron squarely in his abdomen. Ron exhaled sharply as all the air was driven from his lungs and be began to topple backwards. Kyle fell to the ground on his stomach, squirming to right himself on his knees. But Carl and Jones were instantly on him, dragging him upright by his elbows while he flailed between the two, yelling unintelligibly at Ron's prone, wheezing form.
Ron looked momentarily bewildered as he clutched at his chest and tried to calm his breathing down. He saw Kyle's face, reddened with fury and yet crying at the same time. Ron started laughing. "Whoo!" he exclaimed. "That little shit shoulda' played football!"
Carl and Jones chuckled with him, making Kyle thrash between them even more. Ron got to his feet, dusted off his white pants and straightened his jacket. He walked towards Kyle and slapped his cheek lightly, almost playfully. "Enough with the hysterics, Kyle. You'll get over it," he shrugged.
Kyle glared murderously at his captor. Ron winked at Carl. Carl slammed Kyle in the gut with a knee. Julia yelled, and started hurling vague threats at the man. Kyle dropped to the floor, gasping for air just as Ron had only moments before. Carl and Jones stepped away, crowding around Ron. They murmured some words together, too quietly for Kyle to hear above the harsh pitch of his own breathing. Then they walked away, exited the warehouse and it was just Kyle and his mother alone in the dark. He lay slumped over where he was, too exhausted with frustration to move. The ache in his gut never really subsided, but it was nowhere near as painful as the ache in his heart.
The Public Relations correspondent for the Miami-Dade police department looked up from the paper she was holding in her hand to eye Horatio Caine critically. "I thought you had a pretty good idea who the suspect in the bombing was?"
Horatio nodded. "I do."
She frowned at the statement in front of her. "Then why on earth would you want me to say something like this?"
Horatio began to turn away from her. "Because these are the words that will bring him to me."
Ron Saris, Carl Juarez and Randy Jones sat in a small office in the warehouse, eating take-out breakfast from a greasy dive while gathered around an out of date television screen. They talked with their mouths full, joking and laughing even as they washed their egg sandwiches down with steaming hot coffee.
The covergirl blonde of a news anchor stared seriously into the camera as she delivered the top story that morning. Ron motioned to the television screen with his coffee cup as he swallowed a mouthful of food. He used his opposite hand to shush the other men. He leaned over and turned up the volume on the small television, then leaned back into the chair confidently.
"We take you now to the live press conference taking place at the Miami-Dade police department for a full update on this morning's spectacular explosion."
The scene cut from the news anchor in studio to the steps of the police department, barely lit by the early morning light. An older looking black woman in a stylish purple suit stood before a podium, looking quite stern as she read from a single white sheet of paper.
"This morning's blast did not result in any deaths or serious injury, although a few firefighters have been taken to hospital to be treated for minor injuries and smoke inhalation. Again, although we cannot disclose full details on this morning's incident, we do not believe that it was criminal in nature and was in fact caused by accidental circumstances."
A flurry of hands shot up around the podium for further questions by reporters, but Ron Saris had seen enough. He kicked the chair beneath him backwards as he leapt out of it to shut off the television. He clenched his jaw. Carl and Jones stayed wisely silent behind him. In his rampant fury, Ron picked up the television set and hurled it, but remained unsatisfied by the smashed television set that sputtered sparks and smoke before him.
"Give me a phone," Ron said lowly. Carl and Jones exchanged worried glances. "I said give me a phone!" he yelled.
A cell phone was handed over to Ron's extended palm. He angrily punched numbers into the phone.
Horatio stood off to the side of the media scrum, scrutinizing the press conference carefully. His phone rang in his pocket. Horatio turned away to answer it.
"Horatio Caine."
"Horatio," Ron repeated. "So nice to hear your voice."
"You seem surprised, Ron." Horatio countered.
"Nah, not surprised. Just disappointed." Ron swallowed as he fought to control his ever-mounting frustration. "Nice job you did there with the press conference. I assume that was you."
Horatio didn't bother to acknowledge Ron's statement. Ron growled slightly on the other end. "Well, whatever. Maybe we should just get this over with, huh? What do you say, H?"
"I would like that very much, Ron. I take it you still want your original deal."
"Yeah, I do," Ron affirmed. "Meet me at the shipyard by noon."
"Where in the shipyard?" Horatio pressed.
"Just go to the shipyard and I'll direct you from there," Ron said impatiently.
The line abruptly went dead. Horatio kept his phone out, scrolled through his numbers until he settled on Ryan Wolfe's number. Ryan picked up after one ring.
"What's going on H?"
"How's Calleigh?" Horatio asked.
"She's a little banged up but the doc gave her the go ahead. Just needed to clear out the cobwebs I guess."
"Good," Horatio appraised.
"What do you need?" Ryan asked.
"I need you and anyone else you can gather on your end to meet me by the shipyard. Ron Saris is going down today."