DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN…YOU KNOW THE REST
A/N: I WANT TO SEND A HUGE THANKS TO HOPE4SALL AND LAURZZ WHO MADE IT POSSIBLE FOR ME TO GET THIS CHAP TOGETHER.
AND A BIGGER THANKS TO MY NEIGHBOUR, CAROL, WHO LET ME USE HER COMP TO GET THIS CHAPTER OUT TO YOU!
Also, bear with me if this is formatted a little odd. I am not on my own comp so things might not be 'normal'. But I didn't want to leave you guys hanging.
Sins of the father
"This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end
Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end
No safety or surprise, the end
I'll never look into your eyes...again
Can you picture what will be
So limitless and free
Desperately in need...of some...strangers hand
In a...desperate land."
-The End, The Doors
Lindsay shivered uncontrollably despite the warmth pouring out of the heating vents on the dashboard and along her window ledge. In her hands she clutched the real Samantha Flack's identification. Driver's licence, birth certificate, department credentials. A small insurance in case Lessing asked Flack for proof that that was indeed his wife in the passenger seat of the black SUV. She had gone as far as to dress herself in clothing that Flack had taken from his wife's locker. A pair of faded blue jeans and a long sleeved, ruby red top and a New Jersey Devils ball cap.
He remembered bitching and moaning endlessly when she'd scooped the hat off of the shelf during on of their many shopping excursions in mid town. And how'd she given him that little pout and flashed him those puppy dog eyes and gave that childish whine she had perfected very early on in their relationship.
"But, honey…I like it…I like it and I really, really want it…see how cute I look in it?"
She'd slipped the hat onto her head and Flack had to admit, she looked damn cute.
But he just couldn't bring himself, a loyal and true New Yorker and die hard Rangers fan, to shell out forty bucks on a hat that belonged to such a despised, rival team.
"I promise you that I'll make it up to you," she had said, laying her hands on his chest and letting them drift down to his waist, where the fingers off one began discreetly playing with his belt buckle. "I mean…really, really, really make it up to you."
They'd left that store ten minutes later. Sam with a new hat perched on her head, and Flack's wallet forty dollars lighter.
The memory made him laugh even now as he pulled the SUV into the parking spot that Lessing had designated in his phone call to Mac. It was ten minutes to eleven. The lot itself was nearly empty save for a couple of cars and a white panel van scattered about. ESU had closed off all entrances and exits to the garage. Making it impossible for innocent bystanders to stumble upon what was going to go down in a matter of minutes. And preventing Lessing from making an escape if he decided to bail, or kill the entire Flack family and attempt to take off.
Flack was nervous. His hand shook as he switched the SUV into park. He left the ignition running. Not only to keep Lindsay warm, but in case she had to get out of there in a hell of hurry. On the console between the front seats, was a locked and loaded police issued Glock handgun and a small, clear ear piece that Flack would slip into his left ear just moments before stepping out of the vehicle. Chances were, Lessing wouldn't notice the transparent device.
But than again, Lessing wasn't your average perp. He was cagey and smart. And the chances were better that he was going to not only pat Flack down, but search him for a wire.
"Good thing the windows are tinted," Lindsay commented nervously, as she glanced around the interior of the SUV.
"Let's just hope he doesn't actually come over and want to look inside," Flack said, lacing his fingers together and stretching out his arms and cracking his knuckles noisily.
"And if he does?" Lindsay asked.
Flack picked up the gun and checked to make sure the safety off and it was indeed, ready to go. He held it out to her. "You shoot him," he replied coolly. "No questions asked. He sticks his head in here and you shoot him. Got it?"
Lindsay nodded.
"This is our only chance, Monroe. Our only chance at getting my son back. And if you have to kill Lessing, trust me, no one will hold it against you. You'll probably get a damn reward. Here…" he sat the weapon in her lap. "But it in that little storage thing near the bottom of your door," Flack instructed. "It's easy to grab from there and he won't see it ahead of time."
Lindsay did as she was told. "Have you figured out what you're going to say to him?" she asked.
Flack shook his head. "Only thing I can think of is to beg and plead for him to give me my son back. Offer myself up like Mac and I agreed on. Outside of that? I have nothing."
"Do you think he'll go for it?"
"If I go along with his whole comrade in arms, kindred souls bullshit he's got going on. As long as I let him think that I'm on his side, that we're buddies and I get way he did what he did, than he'll be my best friend and go for anything. I need to keep my head on straight. Not let my emotions get the better of me. Honestly, Linds, the only thing I really want to do is kill that sonofabitch."
She nodded and reached out and rubbed his leg in understand and sympathy.
"I know I'm suppose to know better. That I'm supposed to be able to draw the line when it comes to the law. That I'm suppose to stop myself from crossing it. But this is my family. He kidnapped my son. He sent my wife to the mental ward. This just isn't some every day case involving strangers and I can go home at the end of the day and say, it's okay. It's behind me now. This is my family. And fuck with my family and you're going to pay, plain and simple."
"And you know that if that happened, say he got a little violent with you and you felt the need to protect yourself, that no one would think less of you because of it, right? Self defence. You're not actually going out there to kill the guy. But say he becomes a threat to you or Kieran. You know that you're completely in the right to defend yourself and your son right?"
Flack grinned. "Lindsay Monroe, I'm shocked at you. Are you suggesting I seek out some revenge? Some vigilante justice of sorts?"
"I'd never suggest such a thing," she said with a smirk. "I'm just merely saying that I'm in this car and I can be your witness and easily tell people that he came at you first. That you acted in the best interest of yourself, and your child. That's all I'm saying."
"I will keep that in mind," Flack said, than glanced through the rear view mirror at the sound of a car door opening in the near distance.
A lone figure, with bleached blond hair and wearing a black knit sweater and black pants, was climbing out of the driver's side door of the white panel van. He stopped and stood at the back of the van and simply nodded.
"If anything happens to me, Lindsay," Flack said, taking a deep breath and letting it slowly. "If I get Kieran in here and you get him to safety and something happens to me, I want you to tell Samantha that I did it for her. That I did what I had to do to bring her son back to her."
"Flack, don't…"
"Just tell her that," he said, as he pressed the surveillance device into his ear. "Make sure she understands that this was the best thing to do. And tell her that I love her and those babies. Okay? Can you tell her all that?"
Lindsay nodded and fought back tears. As he reached for the handle on his door, she leaned across the seat and pressed an affectionate kiss to his rough, unshaven cheek.
"Good luck, Don," she said. "God speed."
"Thanks," he gave a nervous smile and opened the door and slipped out of the SUV.
"Detective Flack," Lessing greeted, as he stood, blond hair gleaming in the lights over head, at the back of the panel van. "We finally meet face to face. I must admit, you look a lot different from when your picture was in the paper after you survived the bombing."
"It's called weight gain and a hair cut," Flack quipped, as he slowly approached the other man, leaving the driver's side door of his SUV open.
"You look pretty good for a man that had his stomach blown to shreds and his insides held together by a shoe lace," Lessing told him, nodding approvingly. "And what else did I read? That you had pieces of the bomb, specifically the detonator, lodged in your chest? That it took months, almost half of a year, for you to fully mend and get back on your feet again?"
"What can I say?" Flack asked with a shrug. "Call me a damn modern miracle."
"That's exactly what you are," Lessing praised. "That you somehow suffered so much brutal agony and torture yet were able to pull yourself back together in the long run and go on with a normal, protective life. Amazing. Nothing short of amazing."
"So now that we've concluded that I'm either a fast healing or the bionic man," Flack said, taking slow, easy steps towards the van. "Why don't you and I talk about why my wife and I am here. Where's our son?"
"Stop right where you are…" Lessing demanded, as Flack reached the middle of the garage. "Lift your shirt and your pant legs. I want proof you're not armed. And move slowly. Don't try anything stupid."
"Alright…alright…" Flack agreed, and lifted the bottom of his sweatshirt to reveal that there was no gun tucked into his waist band and he wore no holster on either hip.
"Turn around. Let me see your back."
"I heard your demands the first time, Lessing," Flack said, as he turned a slow circle. "You said unarmed and I'm unarmed. So is my wife."
"How do I know that is your wife?" he asked. "How do I know you didn't fool me? That that's some cop waiting in there, ready to pounce on me at your given word?"
"Here," Flack placed the identification down on the cement. "You know what she looks like. I'm sure you saw her interview, right? There's her I.D. Have a look for yourself. We're not playing any games with you. We just want to see our son. We just want to know that he's okay and that you're going to take good care of him. That's it."
Lessing cautiously approached the detective. "Take ten steps back," he instructed.
Flack did as he was ordered.
The other man bent down over the I.D. and picked it up. He studied each piece carefully and silently, than gave a nod of approval and set the cards back down onto the ground. "Pick them up," he ordered, than made his way, backwards, towards the van.
"So what is it you want, Lessing?" Flack asked, as he scooped up his wife's identification and tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans. "Why are we here?"
"You're here to say goodbye to your son," he answered simply.
"Tell me why you want him so badly," Flack tried his best to keep his composure. To keep his fury and rage in check. To befriend the sick, crazy bastard in front of him.
"'Cause if my wife and I are just going to let you keep him, we want to know why. We want to know why we can trust you that you won't do anything to hurt him. 'Cause you can't take him if all you're planning on doing is killing him."
"Kill him?" Lessing laughed, the sound echoing off the high ceiling and cement walls. "Why would I kill him? I need him."
"For what?" Flack asked. "What could you want with a thirteen month old? You need a better argument than that, Lessing."
"Dean," he said with a smile. "Friends call each other by their first names in my world. And that's what we are, isn't it? Friends? Are we not friends, Don?"
Flack swallowed noisily. His hands clenched into tight fists, than opened again. He gave a warm smile. "Of course we are, Dean," he said. "But as my friend, you owe me an explanation to as why you want my son so badly. What you need him for. You owe me that. Out of respect. Isn't that what friends do? In your world? Respect each other, Dean?"
"You're really growing on me, Don," Lessing told him. "You're proving to be even more loyal and worthy than I thought."
"I am loyal. I am worthy. I'm a damn good guy to have around. So why don't you be loyal and worthy to me and let me see my son. Let me see him and hold him and you tell me what you want with him."
"Hmm…" Lessing considered it. "I can give you two out of three," he said. "I can let you see him and I can tell you what my plan is. But I can't let you hold him. Because than the two of you will just get to attached and you won't give him back to me. And I can't have that. Because that would just ruin our friendship. And you don't want that, do you?"
"Of course not," Flack assured him. "But if I'm just letting you have my son, my first born, the least you could do is let me kiss him goodbye. It's the least you can do."
"I'll think about," Lessing said, than popped open the back doors of the van.
"Come here, Kieran," he spoke surprisingly gently and reassuringly to the toddler cowered in the back corner. "Come and see your Uncle Dean. There's someone here who wants to see you and say bye-bye."
What Flack wouldn't have give to have his gun on him at that moment to shoot the man the moment he turned his back. Instead he put on a fake, calm smile as Lessing slowly turned around with Kieran in his arms.
"There's someone very, very special here to see you," Lessing said, pressing a tender kiss to the toddler's temple before setting him on the ground and kneeling down in front of him, blocking Flack's view. "Will you
be a good boy for your Uncle Dean?"
He nodded meekly.
"Look whose here to see you," Lessing said, and stood up and stepped to the side of the little boy.
Flack's eyes widened at the sight in front of him. Time seemed to stand still. He had heard from Mac what Dean Lessing had done in an attempt to disguise Kieran, but nothing could prepare him from seeing the results first hand. His son, with a filthy face and a heedful of shocking nearly white hair, dressed in a pair of pink jeans, purple rain boots, and a bubble gum pink winter coat with white furry trim around the hood. Tears of relief, at the sight of his son alive and seemingly healthy, welled in his eyes. But the rage grew to an almost unbearable peak.
A bright smile took over Kieran's face at the sight of the familiar face. "Daddeee!" he shrieked, and attempted to toddle towards his father, only to be stopped by one of Dean Lessing's strong hands.
"Just let him come over here," Flack said. "Let him come over here and see me. I want to check him over for myself. To make sure that he's okay. Just put him down and let him see me."
"I don't think that's a very wise thing to do, do you?"
"Dean, listen to me," Flack held his hands up in surrender, showing that
he wasn't a threat as he slowly approached the man holding his son captive.
"This is my son. My first born. I can't just let you take him away from me
without letting me see him one last time."
"You are seeing him," Lessing said. "And if you knew what was best for
both of you, you'd stop right where you are. You're getting a little too
close now, Don. I agreed that you could see him, but I said nothing about
you touching him."
"Daddeee?" Kieran reached for his father, the tips of his tiny fingers
brushing against Flack's sweatshirt.
"Let him see me," Flack begged. "Let me at least hold him one last
time. I'm not asking a lot here."
"Wrong," Lessing snapped. "You're asking way too much! Now back off
and stand down!"
Kieran jumped, startled by the sudden shouting of the man holding him, and
immediately began to wail in terror. "Daddy!" he screamed, vainly reaching
for his father who was so close yet so far. "Daddy!"
"Now do you see what you've done?" Lessing roared. "You've upset
him!"
"He's just scared, Dean. He just got scared by the way you yelled. He has
sensory processing issues. He just got tubes put in his ears a couple of
weeks ago. He hears things more clearly and things scare him easily. That's all.
If you just hand him to me, I'll calm him down and you can have him
back."
"Do you think I'm crazy?" Lessing laughed. "Do you? Why would I give
him to you! You of all people?!"
"Because I'm his father," Flack reasoned. "If anyone can calm him
down, it's me. Please, just let me take him and I'll give him back to
you."
"You can't have him!" the other man backed towards the van. "You
can't take care of him the way I can! Train him the way I can!"
"Is that what you want with him? To train him? To be one of your soldiers?
To help you protect the country? The entire world? Is that what you want?"
"Together the two of us can put an end to all that is wrong with society
today. Terrorism, genocide, wars. The massacres of innocents going on
globally. He's your offspring! Don't you understand? You survived!
You're an exemplary soldier and he comes from you! I thought you would
understand that! That you'd see what he's destined to become!"
"I do, Dean. Honestly, I do. But he's just a baby. He's just a year old
last month. Do you realize how long it will take to train him to be the way
you want him to be? By the time he's ready to help you this world will be
even farther down the shitter than it is! Hell, there might not even be a
world left! Man kind will probably destroy each other by than. Do you
understand what I'm telling you? Do you hear what I'm saying? It will be a
dozen or more years until Kieran can be what you want him to be."
"I don't have a dozen more years to wait," Lessing declared.
"Exactly," Flack said. "And that's why I want to make a deal with
you. An exchange."
The other man's eyes narrowed. "What kind of an exchange?" he asked.
"You want a soldier, right? One to help you fight the good fight. Someone
you won't have to spend so many years training. One that's pretty much
ready for action. Couple little minor adjustments, some training sessions
and
they're good to go. Right?"
Lessing nodded.
"Take me, Dean. I'll be your soldier. I'll fight for you. I'd be
honoured to fight for you. Let me take my son to his mother and than I'll go
with you. Willingly. How does that sound?"
"Why can't both of you come with me?" he asked.
"Kieran is just a baby," Flack replied. "He's no good to you. It's
me you need, Dean. You need me to help you. Imagine what we can do together.
The messages that we can get across. What we can solve. Why wait years to do
that when you can teach me everything you need to know in a matter of weeks.
Maybe a couple of months. Imagine what a team we'd be. I'm a fast
learner. And like you said, I'm loyal and worthy. Imagine how great I'd be
with such an amazing teacher such as yourself."
"Me and you?" Lessing asked, warming to the idea.
"We're comrades, Dean. You planting that bomb that day? Me getting
caught in that blast and surviving? That all happened for a reason. It
brought us to this moment. It brought us together. Can't you see that?"
The other man nodded enthusiastically. "I can. I've seen that for so
long. I just didn't think you realized it. And I wanted you to realize
it."
"And I do, Dean. And that's why I'm here. I am offering myself to you.
In exchange for my son. He's an innocent. He has his whole life ahead of
him. And his mother. Don't take him from his mother. It would kill her.
She's willing, to let me go, if you'll leave Kieran behind."
"So she understands?" Lessing asked excitedly. "She understands why I
did this?"
Flack nodded. "She understands that this needs to be done. But she'd
rather I do it than our son. She gets it, Dean. She gets guys like us and
why we need to band together. But she doesn't get why she has to give her baby
up. So please, I am begging you, as a friend. As a colleague. As a comrade
and a pupil. Please let me have my son so I can take him back to his mother."
"If you take him, you say goodbye and you come with me?" he asked
hopefully.
"I promise you," Flack vowed. "I just want to give him to his mother
and say goodbye to her and than we can leave. Okay?"
Lessing nodded and passed the baby over.
"Daddy." Kieran wailed, curling his tiny arms around his father's
neck and resting his head on his dad's shoulder. His crying immediately
downplayed to a mild whimper.
"It's okay now, Kieran," Flack assured him, kissing the top of his
son's head and holding on to him for dear life. Tears burned his eyes. But
he wasn't about to show Dean Lessing any weakness. Because weakness to
someone like that was completely unacceptable. "Daddy's got you, K," he
whispered into his son's ear, as he carried him to the waiting SUV.
"Daddy's got you and it's all going to be over soon. It's all going to
be over soon. You'll get to see your mommy very soon."
"Mommy?" the toddler asked cheerfully, sniffling noisily.
"Soon, K.." Flack assured him. "You'll see her soon."
"Make it quick!" Lessing called impatiently. "We've got a lot of work
to do!"
Flack popped open the back door of the SUV and loaded Kieran into his car
seat and buckled him up tightly. Closing the door, he went to the open
driver's door and leaned into the front seat.
"Jesus Christ, Flack," Lindsay trembled uncontrollable from fear.
"He's crazy. He's goddamn crazy. What are you going to do? How.?"
"Kiss me," Flack said.
She blinked. "What?"
"When I kiss you, kiss me back. Because he's watching and trust me, he
notices everything. And he's going to wonder why a husband and wife didn't
kiss goodbye. Okay?"
She nodded.
He leaned further across the seat and kissed her. Long and soft and tender.
She touched his face gently, returning the kiss.
"I can see why Messer finds it so hard to give up," Flack joked in a
whisper.
Lindsay gave a small laugh. "Please be careful, Don. Please be careful."
"The second I close this door, I want you to get back behind the wheel and
get the hell out of here. Don't look back, okay? Just get yourself and
Kieran the hell out of here. Alright?"
She nodded and found it unable to hold the tears back any longer.
"Whatever happens," Flack said and took a deep breath and let it out
slowly. "Whatever happens from here on out. Thank you. For helping me get
my son back."
"Good luck," Lindsay whispered, and reached out to squeeze his hand
gently.
Flack gave a small wink and backed out of the SUV. His eyes widened at the
feel of something hard and cold pressed up against the back of his head. He
heard the dull clicking noise as Lessing cocked the hammer of the revolver
held calmly and steadily against his skull.
"You lied to me, Don," the man said in a low voice. "You told me that
this is your wife."
"It is. I don't know what you're talking about."
Lessing reached out and snatched the surveillance piece from Flack's ear
and tossed it aside. "That's so the cops can listen to us! So you can tell
them when to come for me! And that!" Lessing gestured wildly into the
vehicle. "Is not the woman that was in the pictures you showed me! That is
not the woman that was on the paper! You lied to me!"
"Okay, listen to me, Dean. My wife. My wife is in the hospital. Kieran
being missing drove her nearly insane and I had to have her committed. So
she couldn't come tonight. It's why I brought a friend to take her place.
There's nothing really scandalous about it, okay? I just brought her here so
we could get Kieran back."
"It's not nice to lie to your friends. To trick them."
"I know. I know. But this doesn't change anything, Dean. I'm still
going to come with you, okay? I'm not changing my mind about that. So just
let my friend take Kieran and."
"I can't trust you now, Don. At all. And I can't have a soldier serving
under me that I can't trust. So this is what you're going to do. You're
going to pay the price for insubordination. You're going to pay the ultimate
price. Understand me?"
Lindsay and Flack locked eyes. Without breaking the gaze, she calmly and
quietly reached for the gun resting beside her.
Flack shook his head.
"Did you hear me, soldier?!" Lessing bellowed, and pressed the gun into
Flack's skull. "You have to pay the price! The ultimate sacrifice for your
betrayal! For being a traitor! Back up! Slowly! Back up and than drop to
your knees and put your hands behind your head!"
"Dean, listen to me."
"On your knees! Now!" he yelled.
Flack sighed heavily and sunk down onto his knees of the cold concrete.
"Hands behind your head! Do it!"
"What is this going to solve, Dean? What is killing a cop going to
solve?"
"It will show the world that traitors and liars will not be tolerated! Now
get your goddamn hands behind your head!"
Flack brought one hand behind him, resting just above the back of his neck,
followed by the other, than linked his fingers together.
"What's your name?" Lessing asked the terrified woman crying silently
in the front passenger seat, the gun once against pressed to the back of
Flack's head.
"Wh…what?" she asked.
"You heard me! Your name! What's your name?!"
"Lindsay." she stammered. "Lindsay Monroe."
"Is Don just a friend of yours, Miss Monroe?" Lessing asked. "Or is
there more to it than that? Are you the other woman?"
"No," she shook her head. "No. We're friends. Just
friends."
"Well than if you're not in love with him, it won't be as traumatic to
you when you watch me kill him, will it?"
"Please." Lindsay begged. Don't do this. He has a little boy. A wife whose having another baby. Don't take him away from them!"
Lessing grabbed Flack by the hair and yanked his head back. "Is that true, Don? Your wife is with child?"
"What does it matter to you?" Flack asked. "If you're going to kill me, just kill me!"
"I asked you a goddamn question!" Lessing raged, and pointed the gun into the backseat at Kieran wailing in his car seat.
"Okay! Okay!" Flack exclaimed. "She's pregnant! Three months. We're having triplets. But what…"
"Now let me suggest an exchange," Lessing said. "Your wife and your unborn babies for you life and that of Miss Monroe and your precious, first born son."
Flack shook his head. "Never going to happen. Never. Not in a million years. My wife and my children are innocent, Lessing!"
"So we're back to last names now, Detective Flack? Well that's fine than. It won't pain me as much to kill you. So say goodbye. Say goodbye to Miss Monroe and your son. Say bye-bye to your daddy Kieran…"
Lindsay made a reach for the gun in the side panel next to her.
"What the hell are you doing?" Lessing roared.
Flack seized the opportunity as Lessing released the grip on his hair to concentrate on Lindsay. The detective dropped his left elbow from the back of his neck and drove his elbow into the stomach of the man holding them captive.
Lessing howled in a mixture of surprise, rage and pain, and as his knees buckled, Flack brought the same elbow up into the man's chin, sending Lessing toppling backwards and the gun skidding several feet away.
"You sick, twisted motherfucker!" Flack yelled, grabbing the other man by
the back of his sweater and tossing him over onto his back.
He knelt over Dean Lessing and went completely ballistic. Yanking the man's head up by the hair
before smashing the back of his skull off of the cement before unleashing powerful blows to his face. "You thought you'd get away with it!" he shouted. "With taking my son from me! With nearly destroying me! For nearly taking away everything that matters in my life?!"
"Flack!" Lindsay screamed from inside the SUV, as she frantically dialled
911 on her cell phone. "Stop! Just stop! Let's just get the hell out of
here and let the others handle this!"
He ignored her. So blinded by fury that all he could think of was punishing
the injured, bleeding, battered man before him.
Lessing fought back. Slamming his forehead into Flack's before jabbing his
fingers into the stronger man's throat. Sending the big detective rolling
off of him and onto his side. His forehead split open, his hands grabbing at
his own throat as he gasped for air.
Lessing struggled to get to his feet, wiping blood off his face and out of
his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt before advancing on Flack. Landing
several swift, damaging kicks to his ribs. Stomping hard on the kidneys when
the man rolled over onto his stomach in an effort to protect himself.
Lessing took the time to catch his breath. Watching in supreme adulation and
pride as the man that he failed to kill four years before, now lay gasping
for breath and bleeding profusely.
"How does it feel, Detective Flack?" he asked. "Do know your life is
going to end at the hands of the man who nearly took it away four years ago?
How does that feel? To know that this is how your life is going to end?"
"Fuck you," Flack managed through gritted teeth, attempting to
drag himself to the gun that lay several feet away. Wanting Lessing to think
he was more injured than he was. Wanting the other man to underestimate him. "Just fuck you."
"Not so big and bad now, are you? Look at you. Weak and pathetic. I'm
disappointed in you, Detective. You would have been a terrible disciple."
Flack's fingers brushed against the grip of the gun. Than bit back a roar
of pain as Lessing once again brought his foot down on the small of his
back.
"I don't think so," Lessing said, a smirk on his face as he flipped the
detective over onto his back and scooped up the gun. "I'll tell you how
this is going to end," he said, kneeling on Flack's forearms to pin him
to the cement, than pressing the barrel of the gun to the detective's
forehead. "Is it true?" he asked.
"Is what true?" Flack gasped. "That you're a sick fucking
asshole?"
Lessing smirked. "That your life flashes before your eyes, is it true? What
are you thinking about as you're lying there waiting to die?"
"I don't know. I guess that I haven't seen the Rangers when the Cup in
a while. That I'm not going to see my wife again. That I won't get to hold
our triplets. That I won't see Kieran's first day of school. Or help him
over his first break up. Or see him off to college. See him get married and
have kids of his own. Lots of things, I guess. I'm thinking that of all
people I see before I die, it would be the sonofabitch that blew me up in
fucking building."
"Such is life," Lessing said with a shrug. He placed a finger on the
trigger. "And such is death as well."
"You won't get out of this alive," Flack told him.
"That makes two of us," Lessing said.
And a shot rang out.
Lessing's lifeless body tumbled over. Instantly dead from a single gun shot
wound to the back of the head that exited through his forehead. The bullet
catching Flack in the top of his left arm. He roared in pain and quickly
brought his good arm up and both of his knees and pushed the dead man off of
him. He gasped for air as he used his feet to push himself backwards.
Sliding on his ass until his back came in contact with the side of his SUV. The pain
was intense. From the large gash on his forehead and the wound to his
temple. From his obviously busted ribs and bruised kidneys. And from the fresh
bullet wound in his left arm.
The gunshot still echoed through the parking garage and through Flack's
ears. In the distance he could sirens and people yelling and heavy footsteps
as they rushed down into the garage. Behind him Kieran was screaming from
terror in his car seat and begging for his mommy and daddy.
Above Lessing's body stood Lindsay Monroe. Tears streaming down her face
and a small, satisfied smile on her lips. The gun -Flack's gun-still in her
hand.
"Monroe," Flack managed. "You fucking shot me. With my own gun."
"Well I most certainly didn't mean to," she said. Bending down, she sat
the gun down alongside of Lessing's body and than hurried over to her
friend. "Jesus, Flack," she breathed, dropping to her knees beside him and
investigating the wounds on his face with gentle finger tips. "Are you
okay?"
"No," he responded, and gave a small laugh. "I feel like shit if you
really must know."
"Do you really need to be a smart ass at this point in time?" she asked.
She gingerly touched the wound on his arm.
He winced. "Gotta have a sense of humour, Monroe. After everything I've
gone through in the past thirty some hours? If I can't laugh about? Is he okay?"
"Scared," Lindsay said. "Scared but just fine."
"I need to…unbuckle him would you? Bring him here? I need to see him. I
have to see him."
"Flack I don't.."
"Please," he said. "I have to see my son. I need to see my son."
Lindsay nodded and got to her feet and opened the back door of the SUV. She spoke to the terrified, distraught baby as she undid the buckles on his car seat straps.
Flack winced as he used the hand on his good arm to bring the front of his sweatshirt up to his face to clear away some of the blood he was losing from his injuries. He stretched out his legs and gasped as pain shot through him. He gingerly touched his aching ribs and nodded down at his lap.
"Put him on my right leg," he instructed Lindsay. "I just need to hold him."
Lindsay gently settled the little boy on his father's lap.
Kieran circled Flack's neck with his tiny arms and rested his head on his dad's shouder. His sobs rapidly calming into whimpers.
"Daddy's here, K," Flack wrapped his good arm around his son's tiny, trembling body. His lips pressed to the baby's ear as he whispered soothingly to him. "Daddy's here. It's all over now. The bad man can't hurt you anymore. It's all over."
"Lindsay!" Danny's voice echoed through the underground lot.
She glanced over as her ex-boyfriend, accompanied by Mac, Speed, Scagnetti and Angell, hurried through the barren lot. Followed closely behind by heavily armed ESU officers and two paramedics loaded down with medical bags.
Danny's eyes widened as he and the others came upon Dean Lessing's body.
"I had to," Lindsay said, as all eyes focused on her. "He would have killed Flack. I had to stop him. Flack…he's pretty bad off…Lessing beat him pretty bad."
Mac simply nodded and stepped over the body as he and Speed and the two homicide detectives hurried over to check on Flack and Kieran.
Danny and Lindsay stood watching and listening as Mac asked Flack his version of events. The other man finding it difficult to talk in the state of agony he was in. After prodding and reassurances from Speed, the detective finally, albeit reluctantly, handed his son over to Angel so the paramedics could attend to him.
"Let's get the ambulance down here, ASAP," Scagnetti barked into his radio.
"Linds? You okay?" Danny asked, as he laid his arm across her shoulders and led her away from the scene.
She nodded and rubbed her arms as tears spilled down her cheeks. "He was going to kill him, Danny. Lessing was going to kill him. Execute him right in front of me. I had to do it. I had to shoot him."
"It's okay," Danny said, and removing his blue nylon CSI jacket and draping it over her shoulders. "Do you need EMS?" he asked.
"I'm okay," Lindsay replied. "I'm just a little shaken up. Someone should call the hospital. Flack's mom and Gus are with Sam. Someone needs to tell them Kieran's alive. That…"
She stopped mid sentence as an ambulance came speeding down the ramp and into the underground lot. It came to a shrieking halt mere feet from them and the driver jumped up out and raced around to the back to toss the rear doors open.
Angell passed them on her way to the ambulance, Kieran clinging tightly to her. Flack followed slowly behind, supported by Speed and Scagnetti, his arms around their shoulders.
"You stubborn bastard," Danny shook his head. "Couldn't swallow your damn pride just once and let them put you on a stretcher?"
"Never," Flack managed through gritted teeth. "Your girlfriend tell you she shot me? With my own gun at that?"
"It was an accident," Lindsay insisted.
"Sure it was," Flack said, and gave her a playful wink.
Mac joined Danny and Lindsay, watching as Speed and Scagnetti helped Flack into the ambulance. Scagnetti stayed inside as Speed and Angell jumped out. The former banging his palm on the rear door, signaling the ambulance to leave.
Mac sighed heavily and laid a comforting hand on Lindsay's shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asked.
She nodded. "He was going to kill Flack. He was going to execute him and I couldn't sit there and let that happen. Is Flack going to be okay?"
"He needs some stitches and some x-rays," Mac replied. "Not to mention that bullet taken out of his arm. You saved his life, Lindsay. And most likely your own, and Kieran's. Angell will take your statement once you get to the hospital."
"I don't need to go to the hospital, Mac," Lindsay argued. "None of this blood is mine. I'm just really, really shaky."
"We'll take you and get you checked over and cleaned up," Mac insisted. "Flack and Kieran are on their way to Trinity. You might as well follow behind."
Danny rubbed her shoulder softly. "Listen to him, Linds. Let them check you out. Someone can get you a change of clothes. Carmen's got a key to Flack's place and she can grab some stuff for you and run it over."
Mac nodded. "It can be arranged," he said. "You'll be in and out," he promised. "Than you can go and check on Sam and Flack and Kieran. Danny will take yolu."
"Won't leave you side, Montana," he vowed. "I promise."
"Now how can you resist that offer?" Mac asked.
Lindsay smiled. "I can't," she replied.
"You did the right thing," Mac told her. "Don't doubt that. You won't face any heat over this."
"Deserves a reward if you ask me," Danny said. "Ridding the world of that scumbag."
She laughed. "Well I won't hold my breath expecting the key to the city. The satisfaction of saving Kieran and Flack…that's worth more than any reward."
Mac sighed heavily. "I'm just glad it's over. That everyone is okay. That Kieran…" his voice trailed off as he fought back emotion.
Danny reached out and clapped a hand on his boss' shoulder. "Your little boy is safe, Papa Mac. By the grace of God."
Lindsay smiled at the older man. "Papa Mac?" she asked.
Mac nodded.
"Looks pretty good for a grandpa, doesn't he?" Danny teased.
The older man chuckled. "Get out of here, you two."
"What do you say?" Danny smiled tenderly at his ex. "Me and you, Montana?"
"Sounds good, cowboy," she said, and curled her arm around his waist.
Mac stood, at the side of the SUV and watched the young couple go. As if he was in a time warp or history was repeating itself.
Lindsay Monroe had come back into their lives with a bang.
The questions now were would she stay? Or would she go?
Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing and for supporting me at this screwed up time. Please stick with me guys!!!???
Special thanks to:
Hope4sall
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