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Chapter 20 : Improvise?

Jack had his watch held up as if he were checking the time when the headlights of Jeremiah's car fell on him, but he wasn't able to hide the smirk that had formed across his face as he leaned on the back end of the AMC Gremlin, a smirk that wasn't lost on Bobby. He understood how Jack was feeling at that moment, the idea of finding and having a hold on Craig was enough to raise his own hopes that shit was about to turn around for them all, but his little brother didn't need to be rubbing his face in the fact that the piece of shit Gremlin with it's rusting body and missing bumpers had made it half way across the city in less time than Jeremiah's shiny new Volvo.

Bobby turned to his left and sneered at Jeremiah, who had refused to allow him to drive and now he would have to listen to Jack gloat about his victory. "You are one sorry driver Jerr'." His voice croaked the words as Jeremiah shifted the car into park and cut off the engine.

"We're here in one piece, ain't we?" Jeremiah grinned at him, his big teeth flashing in the faint light of the interior of the car.

"Fuck you." Bobby pushed the door open and got out of the car. He started for the main entrance, but remembered the security office just on the inside of the door. He had been to St. Vincent's enough in his younger years, as had the rest of his brothers, to know the layout. It really wasn't the worst place to be, unless you were a pissed off teenager with a bad attitude. They did have a level for the trouble makers and hard to handle kids that just couldn't be controlled. Bobby had hated the place, but he knew deep down that he could have made his numerous visits there much more pleasant if he'd only had some control over his fists.

Jack pushed away from the Gremlin and stepped up to where Bobby had stopped on the frosty sidewalk. "Angel went around to the side to see if the emergency doors are still there." He informed.

Bobby turned and looked at Jack, "How long you been here?" He asked, surprised they'd had time for Angel to think of any plan of action.

"Oh, not long." Jack laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "You really should have drove, man."

Bobby didn't smile at the comment. "You're real fucking proud of yourself, ain't you little brother." He could see a glint of satisfaction in Jack's features, even in the dark night. Part of him was glad Jack'd had some chance to feel good. He knew what lay ahead, with the hearing the following day, it was going to be rough.

"Maybe I am." Jack licked at his lips and then grinned a little wider.

Bobby reached up and smacked the back of Jack's head, hard. "You stupid ass, shut the fuck up. You still drive like a little girl, sweetheart." He couldn't think of anything else to say and the gleam in Jack's eyes was irritating after a few minutes. A happy Jack was good, but a gloating Jack was a pain in the ass. He turned towards the sound of boots hitting pavement, and spotted Angel trotting towards them across the concrete walkway that wrapped around the building.

At the same moment headlights from the drive lit the area around them. All eyes turned to the back end of Jeremiah's car. The headlights went dark and both the driver's door and passenger's door opened. "Damn, can't keep you boys home for one night, can I?" A familiar voice filled the air.

Bobby strained his eyes to make out the dark figures moving his way. "Green, what the fuck are you doing out of the hospital?" He felt irritation dig at him as he walked towards the cop who had saved all of their asses more than once recently. "You stupid fucker, you ain't supposed to be out here like this, I know better!" He met up with his friend next to Jeremiah's car. He stared into the man's face and knew for certain that Green wasn't going to leave on his own accord. He allowed a quick hug, "You good man?" He asked quietly.

"I'm good. No foot races for a while, but I'm good. I'm not here, not officially. I'm not back to work; this is personal, if you know what I mean." Green commented.

Bobby looked over at Johnson who just smiled at him. He gave the younger officer a nod, "What about you, you here officially?"

"Absolutely," Johnson looked at the men. "You did want to go in the front door, didn't you?" He flashed a quick smile.

Jeremiah was turned away from them all, looking across the drive at the parking area none of them had opted to use. Two dark vehicles were parked in the row closest to them, directly under one of the many lights dotting the property. They had not been sitting long enough, that fact obvious with the absence of as the thick layer of frosty ice that had already covered the few other cars that spotted the lot. "Shit." He didn't dare step towards the cars. Despite the lot having been coated with salt at some point that evening, there were still icy patches that would put a person on their ass. "Do those cars look familiar?" He held his hand out, pointing in the direction of the cars. "Do they have government tags?"

Bobby felt something in his chest snap and spun around to face Jeremiah. He followed his brother's gaze across the dark parking lot. From his angle his eyes fell on the back end of one of the cars. His mind flashed the picture from earlier that day, his little brother in the back of the car, fighting to get out, to get to him. It was the same car. "Fuck!" He turned and took off at a run towards the front entry. "Come on Johnson! We ain't got time to chat!" He yelled back. He barely comprehended passing Angel. "Side door Angel?" He called without looking back.

"Got it," Angel's yell was accompanied by his retreating footfalls. "Jackie, move your ass!"

Bobby didn't look back to see who was with him, or who was following Angel. He jerked on the large wood and glass door of the front entrance and felt almost surprised when it opened easily. He had expected, half hoped for the opportunity to unleash the pent up frustration on the helpless door. Instead he would have to settle for the older gentleman sporting a security uniform walking up to greet them in the small lobby area that was split down the middle by elevators and a stairway. Offices lined one wall and open cubicles ran along the other. On the back wall a door led through to the actual living quarters where the children were housed and fed. If a child was on the first floor, they had a chance of going to a real family and living a normal life at some point.

Bobby barely had time to read Charlie Hinkle's name tag pinned to his Security uniform shirt before Johnson stepped ahead of him to flash his badge, stripping him once again of the opportunity to get rid of the pressure building up. All he could hope for was the chance to hit someone or something soon, before he lost complete control. The only chance he had would be up on the third floor, he was sure.

Bobby started for the stairs, knowing the elevator only went up to the second floor, to where the juvenile offenders were locked up. The stairs led to the second floor as well, but were not used as a normal entrance for security reasons. If Craig had been left under Dr. Payne's watchful eye, as Robert Bradford had told him, then he was up on the top floor of the building with no way to get out and the fuckers who stole him were up there with him. He realized Jeremiah was right behind him as they reached the stairs and started moving up. He glanced back to see Johnson talking to the guard, Green was nowhere in sight, which was good, the man was supposed to be laying in a fucking hospital bed, not running around after crooked FBI agents.

Johnson caught up to them just as they reached the landing to the second floor. The bars that had been put into place separated the floor from the stairs with a door cut into them to be used as an emergency exit. The long hallway of the other side of the bars reminded Bobby of his old high school in a sick way, except for the security doors instead of lockers lining the wall. Bobby felt a twinge of anger as memories flooded back from his days on the second floor of St. Vincent's. The kids here had to step out of their rooms every day and see bars holding them in, bars in the windows, locks on the doors and freedom as close as a stairway blocked by more iron. Bobby didn't stop long to study the view, he turned away, took the corner next to him and moved up more steps to the third floor, where he prayed he would find his missing brother.

The sounds of yelling from above echoed in faint waves on the stairs. "Shit!" Bobby's feet quickened to a run, taking the stairs two at a time. "Shit!" His mind envisioned Craig cowering in a corner with Harris yelling at him and the picture pissed him off. He felt his body slam into the double metal doors at the top of the stairs as his shoes slid on the freshly waxed floor. His forward momentum faltered as he cleared the doors and was met by the ear piercing screech of an alarm. His ears felt as if they were about to burst from the shrill sound filling the halls. His eyes tried to adjust to the change in lighting, having gone from a brightly lit stairway to a dark and dim hall was a drastic change and the shrill shrieking seemed to pulsate into the halos that seemed to have formed around the edges of everything in his line of sight.

The gunshots rang out ahead of him, just out of sight around a corner. "Craig!" Jeremiah was the one who yelled out. Bobby felt his brother trying to push past him and did a quick mental check. None of them had guns on them, except for Johnson. He barely noticed Johnson pulling his gun from under his coat.

"Shut the fuck up Jerr'." Bobby shot his arm out to stop Jeremiah from running past. He motioned for Johnson to take the lead, a move that was hard considering how desperately he wanted to hurt someone at theat moment.

Johnson took Bobby's hint and moved to the corner. "Shit." He muttered and moved onward, around the corner and out of sight. "They're going down the emergency stairs." He called back as Bobby reached the corner with Jeremiah right up his ass.

"They shot through the gate." Johnson pointed to the damaged lock. "Angel and Jack aren't armed, are they?" He yelled over the alarm and looked almost as if he were hoping the answer would be yes.

"No they ain't armed, especially not Jack." Bobby shook his head and pushed on past Johnson. "They're chasing Craig?" He didn't wait for an answer, he just followed his instinct. "Shit, they got guns and they're chasing down a kid? Some federal agent Harris is, strong armin' a little kid." He was speaking more to himself than Johnson or Jeremiah as he sprinted across the room ahead of them and tunneled down the stairwell used for emergencies. Even if he had been speaking to them his words fell unheard under the constant alarm emanating from every direction. Strobe lights flashed against the grey walls in a constant rhythm, giving an eerie feel to the closed in area. The lights and sound seemed to pulse through his head and the stairs under his feet as he moved downward.

So much for allowing Johnson to go first, if Craig was running from Harris he was scared, and he was leading the fucker right into Jack and Angel. Harris had a gun but whether his men did was questionable. The only fact that Bobby was certain of was they had to be stopped before they reached any of his brothers.

Bobby couldn't hear anything in front of him or behind, though he was sure he felt someone from behind, he assumed Jeremiah, grabbing at his arm as if to stop him. He shrugged out from the grasp and hurtled himself faster down the stairs. The backs of three men game into view one level below him and without thinking Bobby Mercer took a leap over the banister, aiming to come down on on top of at least one of the assholes chasing his brother, it would break his fall, he hoped. It would take out at least one of Harris' men and maybe even stop them all from running all together. It was worth a few scrapes and bruises if it stopped Harris with a gun from running Craig right into Angel and Jack.

"Bobby, what the hell are you doing'?" Jeremiah's voice barely hit a high enough decibel to penetrate the now familiar shrill of the alarm. Bobby felt Jerry's hand grab for his arm but it was too late. Bobby went airborne, falling downwards towards the men on the stairway that wound continuously to the right below him. He felt a yell vibrate against his throat, but it was stifled by that damn alarm as he realized he wasn't quite on target. The man trailing closest to Harris looked up at Bobby's feet; he seemed to lose all traction as his eyes widened. His mouth shot open and Bobby was sure that under normal circumstances he would have heard a yell to match the one that he was emanating into the deafening screech surrounding them all.

The other man with Harris seemed to crumble into the first. Harris slowed and turned to see what was going on. Bobby somehow managed to catch hold of the banister he'd just leaped over and shift the position of his falling body. He felt a smile spread once he realized that last little tilt of his torso would give him the broad range he needed to bowl down both of Harris' associates. It all happened in a fraction of a second, but to Bobby it felt as if it had stretched out for an eternity.

He felt the crack of bones under him as he tumbled onto two men. He was sure he recognized them from earlier that day, the two fuckers who had taken Craig, and a surge of satisfaction gave him the energy to tuck his arms and roll on down the stairs to the next landing, just at Harris' heels. He was about to reach out for the man's ankles when a flash of steel glinted under the emergency strobe lights mounted on the wall above him. He didn't have a clear view of the object in Harris' hands, but he was certain that Harris was aiming a gun at him.

Bobby shifted his attention to two more forms that had stopped at the next landing below. Craig's eyes were wide, staring up at Harris. His mouth was moving, but the older woman holding onto his hand was pulling on him, trying to get him to move. Dr. Payne, he assumed, was getting his little brother out of there, and he was thankful the woman seemed to have more common sense than he did at the moment. He sure as hell didn't want Craig to see him take this fucker down, but he wouldn't let the kid's presence stop him either. Now he just had to figure out how he was going to get up on his feet and get the gun away from Harris. Bobby didn't wait to see if Craig was obeying the commands of the doctor, he looked back up at Harris and let the biggest smile he could manage spread across his face; he would just have to 'wing it'.

Harris returned the smile and seemed to line his sites up on Bobby's forehead. Bobby felt his legs start to tuck up under him, ready to leap to his feet, when the alarm cut out, allowing the stairwell to fill with the sounds of the injured men behind him groaning, Craig yelling his name, and the distinct sound of Jeremiah Mercer letting out one long scream that seemed to sound something close to his name, "Booooobbbbbbyyyyy," just before Jerry dove head first from the steps behind him, directly into Harris, his big teeth clamping down on the man's wrist, causing the gun to go flying across the cramped space and into the wall, where it went off with a loud blast, almost making the alarm they had all been exposed to moments before sound like music.

Harris crumbled under Jeremiah; Bobby managed to get up on his feet as the activity around him melded together. Johnson was there holding his gun on Harris with one hand and reaching out to offer Jeremiah his other hand to assist him in standing. The two men behind him were still sprawled on the stairs begging for a hospital while Bobby felt someone clinging to him, arms wrapped around his neck with some kind of a death grip and a face was buried in his shoulder.

Jeremiah turned to him with a smile on his face, though Bobby was sure he had to have hurt something with that stupid move, and he would be sure to let the man have a piece of his mind later, when he could spare a little bit of it. He looked down at the brown head on his shoulder and his arms wrapped tightly around the teenager, wondering how the hell the kid had gotten back up the stairs. "It's alright." He gave Craig a tight squeeze. "You okay?" He tried to pry Craig away so he could take a closer look at him but the kid wasn't about to let go.

"Okay, Craig, look at me." Bobby spoke quickly. "Are you okay? You got all of your fingers and toes, right?"

Craig nodded his head but didn't let go or pull his face out of Bobby's shoulder.

Bobby was about to get more demanding when Angel and Jack both came into view, obviously drawn up the stairs by the gun shot that seemed to still be bouncing off of the walls around them. Behind them was Green, trying to run, but not able to keep up. The asshole shouldn't have been there to start with; something else Bobby was going to have to yell at someone about.

Everyone was quick to yell at him for not using his head, but here he had one thick headed brother who had dove in between Harris's gun and his older brother, two idiot brothers who were running head on, literally into what could have been a fucking gun and Green, who was still healing from a gunshot wound, was right on their heels, ready to get his ass shot again.

The only one who seemed to have any common sense was Johnson, and Bobby wasn't real sure about him at the moment, since the man was holding his weapon on Harris, and standing in between Bobby and the son of a bitch. Didn't he realize that Bobby Mercer was going to beat the shit out of that man, it didn't matter who had a gun and who didn't. If Johnson was in the way or if he tried to stop him he'd take him out too, he didn't care how much he liked the fucker. He just had to find a way to strip himself of the teenage brother who had latched on for dear life, and he had to find a way to do that without the kid being emotionally scarred.

"Craig!" Jack was on them before Angel, his long legs taking the steps two at a time with little effort. He grabbed hold of Craig, and to Bobby's surprise the boy allowed him to pull him to him. "Are you okay?"

Bobby finally got a look at the kid's eyes rimmed in red, the familiar exhaustion shadowing his features. He didn't have to guess that the kid hadn't eaten and though Robert had said Harris' men had drugged him it was obvious he hadn't had any real rest. "Jackie, you take him to the car." Bobby quickly pushed Craig further into Jack. "Get him out of here."

Jack looked away from his examination of Craig and met Bobby's gaze. He was about to argue. He was about to say that him and Craig both had a right to be there, Bobby could see the fire of the argument behind his eyes.

"Neither one of you are gonna be around for this one Jack, now get your ass out of here and take him with you!" Bobby didn't give into the urge to try to reason calmly with Jack, he didn't have the time; he let his voice raise a level and let his scowl deepen, mentally daring Jack to voice his argument.

Jack seemed to get it. He stared at Bobby, turned to glance at Harris who was watching Johnson retrieve his gun, and then looked to the two men laying on the stairs with Jeremiah and Angel hovering over them. The bigger of the two tried to push his self off of the steps but Angel's foot planted hard on his back, forcing him back down. Jack easily slid his arm around Craig and pulled him close in a protective way.

Bobby knew then that Jack understood. Shit was going down and Craig had seen far too much in the past few weeks, he didn't need to see more. Jack couldn't be there, he couldn't be involved, he already had a murder charge hanging over his head, he didn't need to be involved with anything that was about to go down in that stairwell.

Green finally reached the crowded landing, and looked exhausted from his climb. Close behind him was the lady who had been pulling on Craig's arms just moments before.

"Green, get them out of here." Bobby spoke up; hoping the cop would turn away and his friend would grant him this request.

Green looked at him, diverted his gaze long enough to take in the scene before him, and then looked at Jack. "Let's go." He motioned for the two younger Mercers to move ahead of him down the stairs.

Jack pulled Craig with him. Craig tried to turn back towards Bobby, but Jack continued guiding him downward. The woman seemed confused as she reached the landing. Green took hold of her arm and turned her back around. "Dr. Payne, I need to ask you what happened here tonight." He spoke to her and guided her down the stairs.

Bobby turned and looked at Johnson. "You need to go with Green. Make sure he makes it back down all those stairs in one piece." He suggested, though his tone was not pleasant. "He is still healing right?"

Johnson looked confused. "He's with a doctor, do you really think he needs me to …." His words faded as he studied Bobby's glare. His eyes shifted to Jeremiah, and then to Angel. "Damn, you guys look pissed." He commented, obviously aware of what Bobby had in mind. He turned back to Bobby. "I'll be in the car. I'm sure Agent Harris and his men will be more than happy to escort you back down to the parking lot." He holstered his own gun but held Harris' gun in his hand as he turned to follow his Lieutenant.

"Hey, Johnson, can't we keep that gun?" Angel asked. "I mean, I'd really like to demonstrate for Harris here exactly what happened to Macks." He called out.

Harris seemed to growl from his position on the floor. "Laugh it up, Mercer; you boys are digging your own graves here." Harris snapped. "Green and Johnson are going to lose their jobs over this; you boys are taking them down with you!"

Bobby waited until he could no longer see Johnson's back. He turned towards Harris. "No, you ass hole, you are going down, and your boss, Winston is the one you've got to thank for that." He looked at Angel. "We got any gasoline?"

Angel rolled his eyes. "If you wanted me to bring the gas, you should have said something before."

"You know how the plan works!" Bobby yelled out. "Jesus, Angel, what the hell is wrong with you? If we ain't got no gas how the hell are we supposed to scare the shit out of them?"

"Well, you know, the pain threshold for these two over here seems pretty damn low, if you ask me." Jeremiah pointed to the crumpled heaps on the stairs. "I got my pliers." He pulled a pair of blue handled pliers out of his pants pocket.

Bobby was speechless for a moment. He looked at Jeremiah and shook his head. "Damn, Jerr', what the hell goes through your mind? No one carries pliers around." He cried out.

"Well, I ain't 'no one'. I'm me, and I carry pliers. And wire cutters. And I got this neat looking pocket tool with a cork screw…" Jeremiah continued digging the objects out of his deep pockets. He finally looked at Bobby. "Oh come on, I think we can find a way to use these, can't we?"

Bobby grinned wide, "Well hell, I guess I can improvise."