The little bastard would not hold still. Maybe he should just wing him. He'd stuck the pistol at the small of his back and he could feel it pressing into his spine. That might help. Nah, not as much fun.

Finn leaned his knee harder onto the side of Lightman's head, lips pulled back from bared teeth as a low growl crept past. He could just slice his cheeks to get at that forked tongue inside. Turn him into the Joker. The growl turned into a chuckle.

"You sir, are only making it worse for yourself."

"Sodd offff."

The scalpel sliced just under Cal's right eye. Finn smiled as Cal winced. "You're going to wish you died quick." He sounded very matter of fact.

He moved the knife low on the other man's unshaven cheek. "Some redecoration might be in order. What do you think?"

"Fuckkk youu."

"Ah, don't be like that. That's not very nice."

Cal tried to move his head away but the knee was crushing him painfully against the wooden floor. His hands twisted against the plastic bond but he could only feel the sting and moisture as his efforts made his wrists bleed even more. With his legs he attempted to push back but the man's weight immobilized him, keeping him down, keeping him helpless. From his periphery he could see the scalpel moving toward his face again, the metal catching the light and glimmering within. There was nothing more he could do so he closed his eyes and tightened his jaw.

Finn heard an odd sound. Almost as if someone were cutting into a watermelon. What the fuck was that? Something was most definitely not right. He felt the gun yanked from the top of his slacks. Shit. That shouldn't have happened. A solid ache began to radiate from between his shoulder blades. Forgetting Lightman, he pushed himself up and shifted around unsteadily.

The woman stood close, backing away as he stared. Her eyes were wide with fear but there was something else. He couldn't tell exactly what it was. It just seemed as if she knew something that he didn't know. She also held his little Beretta. Wait. This wasn't right. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She should be cowering in a corner like the others.

The ache was getting worse. One hand snaked behind him to rub the spot with his fingers. What he found shocked him. He couldn't quite maneuver to pull it out but there was a smooth handled knife sticking out of his back. Where the hell did that come from? As the realization hit him, so did the agony and the blinding rage.

"You bitch!" The scalpel still in his hand, he took a faltering step toward her. "You fucking stabbed me!"

"At this point I don't really think I'd have a problem shooting you either." Gill's voice shook slightly but it was obvious that she meant what she said.

Cal slowly lifted his head and blinked at the scene that lay before him. Everything was blurry in the one eye and he couldn't see out of the other at all. But he could hear her. That's my girl. He just wished that she would just shoot the son of a bitch already but he wasn't completely sure if she could. His head tilted back down against the floor.

How the hell was he even standing? Did the knife just imbed in muscle? Gillian held the gun tightly but it wavered and Finn smiled. She had the surreal feeling that she was stuck in some kind of horror movie.

"You don't seem to be the killing type Dr. Foster." The pain was bad. He could feel things seemingly breaking apart and dissolving inside. That couldn't be a good thing. He didn't want her to know it though.

"Drop the knife."

He looked down at the scalpel in surprise. He'd forgotten he was holding it. "But that would leave me unarmed." It seemed like a reasonable response.

(BREAK)

Reaching slowly for the knob, Greg turned it, happy that it wasn't locked, unhappy that he had placed himself in this situation to begin with.

Pushing the door forward, he kept his body out of the line of fire but managed a quick glance within.

Dr. Foster's back was to him, while Finn stood several feet in front of her. Lightman was trussed to an overturned chair and was still. Greg wondered briefly if was still alive.

"GREGORY!" Finn's voice was loud and the woman jumped. She swung around and he saw the pistol in her hands before she backed against the wall, attempting to point it at both of them. Panic and horror washed over her face.

"You're just in time!" Finn was smiling, obviously relieved.

Gillian could feel her breath start to rasp again. She had thought it was almost over. She had thought that maybe they'd be able to get away and now…there was no point. Allowing herself to slide down the wall, she continued to hold onto the gun regardless. She might be able to take one of them out at least, maybe. The newcomer was holding some kind of military rifle and he also had a gun tucked against his belly. Another of Finn's accomplices. She pushed down the wail that threatened to break free, not wanting to give them the satisfaction.

"Was Berk just in time?"

The smile slipped a little and for the first time, Greg noticed his white pallor. "He was going to betray me man."

"I doubt that."

"Cuttt himm downnn in collld blood." It was Lightman, sounding awful but Greg was glad to know that he was alive.

Greg sighed. "I would have expected as much."

Gillian tilted her head toward the man in the doorway. His voice. It was the same gravelly one from before. The one that had been laced with guilt.

"You help me and I'll make it so worth your while." Finn nodded as if Greg had already agreed.

"That's not why I here."

"What are you talking about? Of course that's why you're here." He appeared affronted that there could be another reason.

As Greg watched, the man went down to his knees. He finally saw the reason for his pale countenance. His own pearl handled knife was sticking out from the middle of his back. I'll be damned. She used it. He looked at Dr. Foster and she just stared back. "And here I thought you guys might need my help."

"What the hell are you doing?" Finn glared, voice rising in panic. "I'M YOUR BOSS. YOU DO AS I SAY!"

The sirens were getting closer. Greg had thought he heard them earlier but wasn't sure if he hadn't maybe imagined it. "I think it's going to be all done real soon boss."

"You're going to go down too you stupid prick!"

"Probably." Greg glanced at Gill. "Watch him please."

He crossed to Lightman, leaned his rifle against the wall within easy reach and pulled another knife from his pocket. This one was older, with a dark stained wooden handle but no less sharp. "I'm going to gut the plastic tie off your wrists."

Lightman grunted what might have been an acknowledgement or a thanks. Greg wasn't sure.

"Don't do that!" Finn had shifted slightly before sitting hard down on his butt. He knew he was bad. He was cold and the feeling seemed to be leaving his extremities but the loss of control was worse. So much worse. He was Finnley Bainbridge Junior. This wasn't supposed to happen. It couldn't happen.

The knife easily slid through the binding and Greg tossed it aside. Without asking, he hooked his arms under Lightman's and hauled him to his feet. A groan of pain rattled through the man's lips as his knees started to buckle. Greg held on and managed to maneuver him to the edge of the bed.

"Thanks mate." It was only a whisper. "But you best be off, yeah?"

"What?" Finn's voice was getting weaker. "He can't go. That's not fair."

Greg looked between Lightman and Dr. Foster. She gave a tiny nod. "Thank you."

He gave her a long look and Gillian almost had the unsettling impression that he was memorizing her. Before she had time to think about it too much, he'd turned and gone.

The sirens were very loud now.

Had to rework this chapter a bit. Hopefully it didn't disappoint. Thanks for reading.