CHAPTER 7
Arms folded across his chest, he lay perfectly still on the cot, staring at the ceiling and feeling like a little kid, a tired little kid. Dom won the argument, as usual, and he was sentenced to "nap time."
He could almost see Dom and Cait right outside the door laughing their heads off, and he was still in here - pouting like the little kid he was being treated like. Thirty six years old and he had still been sent to the equivalent of his room. Oh well, he sighed, he had learned that kicking, pounding his fists, and screaming wouldn't help the situation, and if he was in here anyway, he might as well make the most of it.
\A/
Five o'clock came and went, darkness falling and finally closing up the business.
"You want me to go wake up the sleepers?" Caitlin offered.
"Sure. Be careful though. I have known one of them to bite when he isn't ready to get up yet."
"Wonder which one that is," Caitlin teased.
"The one old enough to know better and grouchy enough to do it anyway."
"Okay, I'll be careful." She cracked the door to the office open and slipped inside, gently waking the sleeping baby and preparing him to go to his temporary home for the night, then moved toward the cot.
Wide blue eyes already looked in her direction.
"I was too loud I guess," she idly commented.
"Too quiet."
"Oh yeah, your quiet so I must be up to something theory."
"No," he said, bringing a finger to his lips. "It's still too quiet."
A moment of silence reigned before he broke it with a quiet whisper.
"Get Tommy and get under the desk. No matter what stay low and in the shadows."
"Why-"
"Just do it," he ordered, eyes still darting between the desk and the window.
She obeyed without any further questioning and disappeared with the baby into the shadows.
"Now quietly open the top drawer and pull out the Colt and the PPK."
She again followed orders. "What's-"
"Shh," he held p a hand, signaling her to be quiet. "Hand me the .45," he requested in a whisper, "and stay out of sight."
She decided it was best to trust his instincts and did as he said, wondering all the while what was going on as she took the Walther in her right hand and crawled udder the desk with Tommy in the other.
Moments of deafening silence hung in the air as tension built up. "String," she called out in the faintest of whispers, "what's going on?"
He merely pointed to the window and the yellow moonlight that flooded through the open blinds. Then, so quietly even he almost missed it, there was the click of metal hitting metal as the safety was clicked off, followed immediately by the same distinctive noise from inside the office.
Suddenly the silence was broken with the shattering of glass and the sound of round after round being fired. Hawke fired back, trying to avoid the raining shards of glass as he attempted to take out his invisible enemy. The gunfire stopped for a second, giving him the needed moment to put in a new clip. Another two shots range out, then the fight ceased for good.
"Everyone okay?"
"Fine," Caitlin answered, crawling out from her shelter. "How about you?"
"Rolling in the floor hasn't helped things, but amazingly enough I'm not in a million tiny pieces."
Dom called out from the other side of the door. "You two done playing with the guns now?"
"Yeah," came String's reply without offering any more explanation.
The door opened hesitantly for a moment, then he flipped on the lights and came in. "Momma Mia, what a mess."
"Think the insurance company will believe another accident?" Hawke asked sheepishly, "With me involved, again."
"I'm thinking I should be able to right you off on my taxes as a liability. Anything hurt other than the window and a few holes in the wall?"
"Not this time. I don't think the accident was so much of an accident though anymore. The swerving back and forth was kind of systematic now that I think of it, but when it didn't work they had to send someone else out to finish the job."
\A/
"I heard someone outside and used the gun as self defense after being fired upon. I'm not on trial here, so why are you trying to nail me to the wall? I already told you, it's not my fault."
"Please just answer the question, sir," the detective repeated in a low monotone.
"I've answered all your damn questions already. I'm tired and I just want to go home."
"Without a better alibi your story doesn't quite float," he dropped to a low almost growl, slightly more on edge than the penetrating glare. "In other words, we could have you arrested for suspicion of murder."
\A/
Knightsbridge
7:45 am
The Following Morning
"Sir, he's gone."
"Gone? How can he be gone? I'm the only thing standing between him and an immediate arrest for murder, and he just gets up and walks out? Of a high security government building no less? Where does he think he' going to go?"
"My best assumption would be the cabin or back to Santini Air," Marella voiced her opinion.
"Then we had better beat the police there before they try hanging him because we all know things aren't going to go well if they double cross Stringfellow Hawke."