Part 15
Tony swallowed. "Vernon, can you keep an eye on these two?"
"Yep." He took the rifle that Tony handed him, surprise registering on his face when Tony headed for the door, then reversed his direction and ran back to Michaels. He shoved the man over, ignoring his yelp of pain, and dug quickly through his pockets. When he found what he wanted he stood and rushed out. Vernon yelled after him, "Where are you going?"
"To find Michaels' truck." Tony ran through the house and out the front door. Nothing sat on the road in front, so he detoured and headed around to the barn. It didn't take long to find the dark blue SUV parked beside the building. Tony used the key to gain entry and pulled himself behind the wheel. A hand radio lay on the seat; he filed that information away for later. Not taking the time to admire the obviously fully loaded vehicle, he started the engine and drove quickly to the front. Leaving the engine running, Tony jumped out of the car and hurried back into the house.
"Get McGee ready - we're heading for the hospital."
From where he knelt beside Michaels, Mansfield nodded that he understood, finished securing the bandage against Michaels' shoulder, and stood to leave the room. "I'll get what we need."
Vernon used the rifle to gesture at Michaels and Justin. "What do you want to do with these two?"
"We're leaving them here. You got any rope?"
A grin spread across Vernon's face. He handed the rifle back to Tony. "In the barn. I'll be right back."
As he left, Tony walked across to the bed. McGee lay still, his eyes closed. The wrappings around his torso were stained red. Painful looking welts ringed his throat. Tony reached out and lightly brushed the back of his fingers across McGee's bruised cheek. Anger started a slow boil in his stomach.
"You can't just tie us up and leave us here."
Pulling back the rifle's hammer, satisfied with loud click it made in the sudden quiet, Tony turned to face Michaels. "You're under arrest, Stuart Michaels, for brutally attacking and attempting to murder a Federal Agent, and for the suspected murder of Petty Officer Jefferson. I strongly suggest you remain silent, or I may be forced to do something we'll both regret." His nose flared as he pressed his lips together and sent every bit of anger and bitterness churning in his gut to Michaels. He took a step closer. His voice grew quiet, hissing from his clenched jaw. "Or maybe you should say something. That way, I'll have an excuse to shoot you."
Tony watched Michaels' throat work as he swallowed hard. His eyes were round and wide, watching him. He was scared. Good.
Mansfield returned with gauze and tape. His stethoscope hung around the back of his neck. He sat carefully on the edge of the bed and tended to McGee. Vernon came back with the rope. Tony chose to ignore his giddy grin as the older man uncoiled some of the length and handed it to him. Together, they tied Justin's feet, then his wrists behind his back, then looped his feet and wrists together, giving him the appearance of a trussed up calf, ready for branding. Ignoring Michaels' protests of pain and discomfort, he received the same treatment.
They both stood. Tony crossed to the bed while Vernon left the room. A few seconds later, he returned with his arms full of pillows and quilts. "I'll load this up and be right back."
Tony didn't answer, watching silently as Mansfield listened to McGee's heartbeat. He finished and removed the stethoscope. "We're ready."
Tony gripped his shoulder as he stood. "I'll drive."
"No, I'll drive." Vernon returned and continued when Tony opened his mouth to protest. "I know these roads better than you - and you need to be in the back, holding McGee so Dr. Mansfield can keep an eye on him."
Tony nodded. "Okay. Think you can back the SUV up to the gate?"
"I'll do better than that."
Confused when Vernon offered no other explanation, Tony let him go and turned back when Mansfield said, "We can lift him like we did before."
"No, I'll carry him this time. Here -" He handed the doctor the rifle before he could argue. Mansfield walked out. Tony leaned over, sliding his arms beneath McGee's shoulders and knees. He stood slowly, carefully, groaning a little under the weight, but determined to carry Tim. He lifted his chin, tucking Tim's head against his chest, then turned to leave.
A wooden crash sounded in the front yard. Alarmed, Tony quickened his pace, then froze when he reached the porch, shocked with the sight. Vernon had backed over his front fence, flattening it as he drove in reverse to the house. The older man got out and hastened to open the door. He frowned when he saw Tony's expression.
"Been meaning to take that old thing down, anyway."
Grinning, Tony waited until Vernon had the backdoor opened, then carefully began sliding Tim in. Mansfield jumped in to help. He caught Tim and pulled him gently, settling him into the nest of quilts on the floor. Once they were in, Vernon shut the door and scurried to get behind the wheel. He hit the gas, and they were off. Tony heard Vernon using the radio to call for help, asking that someone inform the hospital they were on their way.
Tony shifted around and managed to settle against the back of the seats, stretched out beside McGee. He held onto Tim's shoulders, doing his best to keep him still.
Mansfield pressed the stethoscope against Tim's chest, After a moment he glanced at Tony, his face grim. "Better tell him to hurry."
