Part 4. Down With The Culled
Vin had been relieved to see Chris leaving the old man to his toy and had bent down only a moment to grab his discarded jacket when the explosion had thundered out. He felt the force of it, even from the distance he stood and watched with absolute horror, his best friend be thrown like a rag doll through the air, thudding into a tree before lying still beneath its low, scorched branches. In hideous fascination he watched a rain of burnt feathers fall to the ground and began moving, his mind desperate to work in focus and was shouting orders in the next instant and sprinting for all he was worth.
"JD! Call an ambulance, Chris is down! Wait there to direct it in and call for backup - and we need the explosives team down here. Someone's just taken out Carlos, whoever did it got in close, he's gotta be around here."
He ran harder than he ever had in his life, jumping a stack of shrubs without breaking stride and still Vin felt like he was trapped on a slow-moving travelator. He scanned the flaming grass for a sign of the old man as he headed towards Chris, knowing that there would not be one.
Buck and JD had heard the explosion then seen a ball of yellow clear the treetops from within the park.
"See that?" JD said, already out of the car and heading in as Vin's shout came through to them. He halted in his tracks as he heard his instructions. Dammit!
Buck climbed out the driver's side and called to JD, "Keep an eye out JD, the bastard could be anywhere," before he took off towards the direction of the explosion, gun out and looking for anything that moved.
As JD waited impatiently by the van he scanned the area, arm hovering over his holster, eyes darting every which way. He could see as far as the coffee shop up the street, across the road, but could not make out the lone man sitting quietly watching the replay of yet another success on a small, hand-held screen. The tiny camera he had placed in the monkey's eye had given him a perfectly clear, focused visual feed as the old man had grinned at the toy like a fool, right up until he had been engulfed in a fiery ball of death.
..
The Ginger Man sipped on his ice coffee and played the digital view again, going back this time to where the monkey had been held in the air and he could see a blonde man standing before him, looking at him a moment before the toy was put on the bench. There was something familiar about that man… Something… He played that part again, pausing it on the man and wanting to get back to his apartment and enlarge the view. He was obviously the agent that Carlos had been meeting on the sly, the reason Giorgi had ordered him taken out… but there was something else about him he could not place. As the waitress walked past he signalled for his cheque and smiled, another day another death… and the sun was still low across the awakening city.
Vin reached Chris only a moment later, dropping heavily to his knees beside him in the blackened grass and seeing immediately that he was unconscious. He checked his pulse as he leant down to listen for his breathing, relieved when both seemed ok but listening a moment longer to be sure.
"Dammit Larabee, I told ya I didn't wanna do no CPR," he said, sitting up a little and looking to the blonde head for sign of an injury.
"Didn't say... not to get blown up…" Chris whispered painfully.
Vin jerked up, looking down at the dazed green eyes beneath him with relief. "Jesus you nearly gave me a heart attack!"
"Sorry…" was the weak reply.
"Talk to me, Vin, what's going on?" Buck said as he got closer to them.
"Chris just came to, must've hit his head in the explosion."
He found the already swelling lump on the back of Chris's skull and cursed, continuing to look for further injuries while Chris closed his eyes again. He did not want to move him but suspected his back would have caught the brunt of the blast. As he ran his hands down Chris's sides he found the broken ribs at the same second Chris gasped and pulled away.
"You hurt anywhere else?"
Chris did a mental check as best he could through a fog in his brain that seemed to lift and descend constantly, giving him a clear line of thought one second and total confusion the next.
"Think… just the ribs…"
"Looks like yer head got the worst of it." Vin said, checking the wound again before leaning back on his knees a little, studying Chris's face. "Ya know what day it is?"
"D-day."
Vin grinned, "Close enough."
Chris closed his eyes again. Thinking was becoming harder and he was beginning to feel an intense pounding start behind his eyes. Buck came sprinting across the narrow path towards them at a rapid rate.
"What the hell happened?" he shouted as he reached them, stopping a moment later before them and bending forward to catch his breath, noticing a fallen, tattered sign by his feet that read "Please Do NOT Feed the Wildlife."
"A bomb. You see anyone hanging around? Whoever planted it got right up close." Vin told him, still looking at Chris who was still trying to focus his eyes.
"Nope…" Buck looked around briefly then caught Vin's eye, "The old man?"
Vin looked back at the incinerated bench. "Dead."
"Anyone else?"
Vin scanned the torn ground around them, knowing all too well what the scatterings of burnt flesh and feathers were. The old man had been completely surrounded by them. "Just half the duck population of Denver."
Buck raised an eyebrow at that and began to put together what most of the carnage was.
"Ya said ya wanted barbecued duck."
Buck's eyes shot to Vin's and widened at the grin he saw there. Damn that Tanner humour... "That's disgusting."
"Carlos?" Chris asked, moving his head to see and groaning when the movement make his head spin.
"Stay still, Chris," Vin said, putting a hand to his chest to restrain him. "He's dead."
"Dammit," was the soft curse.
"I'm gonna look around," Vin said, pushing up to stand.
"Vin."
Vin stopped and looked back down.
"Where's Carlos?"
Vin frowned and looked up at Buck before taking in the unfocused green eyes again. "He's dead, Pard."
Chris felt his brain swelling inside his skull. It seemed to be growing at a rapid rate, pushing out from behind his eyes. He winced and closed them, trying to keep them from popping out. He couldn't think any more. Didn't know who was beside him... and he did not like the feeling one bit. "What… happened?"
"Jesus…" Buck said, "JD where's that ambulance?"
"I can hear it, Buck, but can't see it yet."
"Take it easy there, Pard, ya just got blown ta hell." Vin said, squeezing Chris's arm gently, seeing his confusion tinged with a slight fear. Chris was a man always in control, Vin knew he would not relax easily.
Chris blinked and focused on Vin's face looking down at him, confused. "From… the mail room?"
Vin smiled, knowing he was thinking of the woman he had bumped into a moment before. "Not likely, Cowboy, purple ain't my colour."
Chris blinked again and Vin spoke assuredly, trying to overcome his concern to do what was needed. "Take it easy, Chris. Jist give yerself a minute. Relax, stop thinkin' so much."
Chris closed his eyes and took Vin's advice. He was trying to place his shattered thoughts together all at once and it wasn't working.
"That's it, just breath nice an' easy, concentrate on that ok?"
Chris did as Vin instructed, taking a few calming breaths, focusing on the sound the air made in his chest until he felt the fog lift slightly in his brain. Then he was struggling to get up.
"Woah! I said nice an' easy!" Vin held him still, not wanting him to move until the paramedics arrived.
Still, Chris tried to get away from the pushing hands.
"Stay put will ya?"
"I'm fine, let me up."
"Sure you are," Vin needed to use both hands to hold him down. Chris was moving his head freely which was a relief, he had feared a neck injury when he had seen him laying there a moment before, unmoving.
Buck moved in to help and Chris struggled harder to get up.
"Dammit Larabee! Will ya stay put?"
Chris grabbed his neck as he managed to eye the spot Carlos had just been sitting a moment before, Vin's hands gripping his arms in support.
"Sonofabitch… monkey…" he said softly and silently pitched forward into Vin's grasp.
"Chris!… Fuck…" Vin held Chris upright a moment and then Buck helped him lay him back down on the grass, checking the wound on the back of his head again, finding that the bump had swollen already.
"Damn…"
Vin looked up at Buck. "He hit his head pretty good on that tree," he nodded to the thick tree beside them and then stood up. "Wait with him, I'm gonna check the area."
He was moving off when Buck spoke. "Whoever did this'll be long gone by now."
Vin didn't turn, just picked up his pace as he jogged off.
Buck knelt beside Chris and checked his head for himself, finding the injury easily and concerned by the size of the swelling. Chris moaned and began to open his eyes again.
"Take it easy there Chris, help's comin'."
Chris blinked and tried to look sideways up at Buck. The motion made his head spin violently and he felt himself swallowing. Buck noticed the sudden pallor of his skin and tilted him over to allow him to throw up. On a groan Chris managed only to expel the water he had swallowed in the shower, there was nothing else in his stomach. He groaned as broken bones moved and grated within his chest, causing him to return to his back and lie as still as possible.
Buck was eyeing the still flaming particles of bench and scorched grass. "Guess our secret informant weren't so secret," he said thoughtfully.
Chris said nothing, just open his eyes and narrowed them at the spot Carlos had been sitting a moment before. His mind cleared again briefly and he realised that everything the old man had told him was now in question. They could have been leaking information to them through him for months… Damn…
"Vin?" he asked, closing his eyes again, feeling drowsy and ill.
"Gone to look around, he'll be back in a sec."
"Man my head hurts…" Chris whispered softly and squeezed his eyes as the pressure again built behind them.
Buck frowned down at the head of too long blonde hair. Head injuries could be serious and this one was already showing the signs of being a bad one. "Yer heads too hard to cave in over an old tree like that." Even as he eyed the sturdy, hard trunk beside them again, Buck heard the doubt in his own voice.
..
5. The Greater Victim
Vin took off through the park, scowling as he saw the duck that had been stalking him earlier. "Trust you to survive that," he growled at it as he continued on, taking in every detail as he ran towards the road. He had not wanted to leave Chris like that, but he knew that a hot trail was the best chance they had and there was always the possibility that the person responsible for the killing would stick around to enjoy the result. He saw JD standing by the van and could hear the ambulance and police sirens closing in.
"See anything, JD?"
"Nothing."
He stood still for a moment, scanning the street, seeing the people that were starting to come out of the woodwork to see what all the noise was about. For a moment he felt disconnected and numb as he watched the world go by, totally oblivious to the fact that he had almost just lost his best friend. There was a small coffee shop up the road and he could see a man sitting outside, even from that distance, but could not make out anything more. It was a cool morning to be sitting outside drinking coffee, he thought.
His sharp blue eyes moved back towards the park and stopped on a woman at the side of the road with a pram, not far from the coffee shop. Again, it was a mite cool to be out with a baby and early as well. It was something and worth a closer look. He started to cross the street, eyeing the café again, eyes stopping as the man alone at the table looked up briefly from his newspaper, his dark glasses hiding his eyes and his orange hair seeming to pick up the hues of the rising sun.
As the ambulance pulled in, JD saw Vin crossing the street, wondering where he was going, ready to back him up if he needed it. He saw the Texan reach the other side and approach a woman with a pram. What the hell was he doing? As Vin got closer JD saw the woman turn at the last moment to face him and his heart leapt to his throat, the woman looked like she was holding a gun - and pointing it right at Vin!
Vin's reflexes took over as he saw the gun aimed at his chest and he dove to his right, not thinking, purely reacting at that point. He felt the all too familiar sting as it grazed the flesh of his upper arm and then he was up, own gun held straight, aimed at the woman.
"Stop, I'm an ATF agent," he told her.
He noticed the poor quality and unkempt appearance of her clothes, the lines of weariness around her eyes, the unsure chewing of her bottom lip. This woman was desperate. He heard the baby begin to cry, until that point he had not been sure there even was a baby. The gun in her hand shook, he saw the determination in her eyes, but he also saw the slight indecision. Her finger repositioned itself over the trigger.
"This doesn't have to end bad," he said in a calm, controlled voice.
Vanessa Stetson weighed up her options. The orange haired man had given her five hundred dollars to simply carry his pet duck into the park in her pram, a toy secured to its beak and let it out near an old man through some scrub near the lake. It had all seemed too easy and she had known in her heart that she was doing something wrong. It was in the man's eyes as he had told her what to do, in his cruel smile. Still, five hundred dollars would turn her life around and at that point, when he had seen her in the park the day before, that had been an offer too good to refuse.
She had returned and left the weak looking duck just as he had asked her to, giving it an encouraging push towards the old man offering food and as she had walked off, she had heard the explosion a few moments later and had known she had done something terribly wrong. She had brought the gun that was once her husbands with her, although she had never before touched it. Something had told her to bring it that day and it was the same voice that was telling her now that this day would be like no other in her life, that things would never be the same again.
She looked down at Dillon, her love, the only light in her life and felt tears gather with surprising force. She had not cried in a long time. She had done it for him… and now she would go to prison and never see him. She did not want him growing up with her in prison, she wanted more for him. She looked up at the man she had nearly killed.
"You're a cop?"
Vin nodded, "ATF Ma'am… put the gun down now, ok?"
Vanessa nodded to the pram. "There's money in there… it's his."
Vin nodded, trying to reach out to her with his calming eyes and strong voice. "Sure thing, I won't let anyone touch it," he assured her.
She nodded again. "It's HIS," she said again firmly, her voice rising a notch and again Vin nodded, wondering at her mental stability. He had to get the gun away from her.
"No problem. The money belongs to yer baby. Just put the gun down now ok?"
Her hand shook again. "He needs a good home…"
Vin's heart picked up its pace as he realised where she was going with this. "He needs his mother…"
Again the woman looked back down at the baby, her gun still aimed at Vin. She kissed her fingers and placed them on the baby's tiny pink lips as he quieted and looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes of the bluest sky.
"Ma'am?" Vin said. "Ma'am give me that gun now, ok? I'll help you, you and yer baby. This ain't as hopeless as it seems, I promise."
For a second he'd thought he'd touched something in her as her eyes focused on his.
"Knew it was wrong… knew the monkey was bad…"
Vin's jaw tightened, so she had been involved. He was about to ask her who had given it to her when she spoke again.
"Will you save my baby?"
Vin blinked. What the hell was she thinking? "Of course." He tensed, she was getting ready to do something, he could see the finality in her eyes.
Vanessa saw the truck approaching up the quiet street and waited a moment more. Sure the man would do just as she hoped, she finally gave the pram a shove with her free hand and saw her baby heading out into the street, in front of the approaching truck.
"What the - Jesus Christ!" Vin eyed the woman a split second longer to determine she was not going to shoot him if he moved, before he darted out to stop the pram. Just as he grabbed it and tugged it back towards the curb, the truck compressing its breaks as it came to a sudden stop, he heard a second gunshot and whirled to see the woman crumple to the street, his eyes screaming their protest at the whole futility of the situation as he looked down to the pool of blood spreading out beneath the woman's dirty, tangled hair.
The baby's loud wailing drew his attention back down and he saw glimpses of blue eyes through a scrumpled, red face, limbs kicking wildly beneath a thin, dirty blanket. The Texan's throat tightened as he reached out a hand toward the orphaned child, now alone in a world that would not alter its blinding pace for anyone, he knew. In a strange moment, the baby quieted and sky blue eyes were mirrored by his own, before the tiny face again howled in distress. Sometimes, he did not understand the world he lived in, not at all.
..
The Ginger man grinned with satisfaction as he saw the woman take her own life. If the junkie bitch had been caught, he would have had to kill her himself, this had been very tidy and saved him much effort. When he had approached her, he had worried that the imbalanced look about her might fail him in what he wanted her to do, but her desperation had won out and she had done her job well… and now she had tied off his only loose end. He could not have planned it better.
He stood slowly and folded his paper beneath his arm, whistling through his teeth as he left his money on the table and left the café in the opposite direction to the noise of the emergency vehicles that were fast pulling up to surround the park.
..
6. The 'Man' Is Crumbs
Room 404 was dimly lit, the sole patient inside quietly asleep as he had been since he had been admitted an hour before. Initial tests had not revealed any damage to his skull or internal bleeding, but he had been ordered complete rest under observation.
Vin stood perfectly still within the quiet room, oblivious to the muffled noises that came from beyond the doorway. He knew this hospital too well, as did all of the team, but he would rather it was he in the hospital bed recovering than any of the others. It was his job to watch their backs, to make sure that there were no surprises to catch them unawares. He had failed this morning, failed Chris terribly to warn him in time of the danger that he had felt suddenly coming toward him… and now all he could do was stand vigil by his bedside, feeling guilt and worry wash over him again as he took in the dark bruising around the closed eyes that were unable to focus clearly when they did manage to open.
He saw Chris's lids flutter again and did not move this time, hoping he would fall back asleep. He did not think he could explain to him yet why everything had gone so wrong.
There was a soft knock on the door and Buck entered silently.
"How's he doing?"
Vin had not spoken for near on an hour and his throat was dry as he answered, still looking at Chris, relieved that he seemed to be sleeping again. "Same. He woke fer a bit, still confused…"
Buck saw the guilt riding Vin's clear blue eyes and frowned. "Wasn't your fault, Vin."
Vin did not look at him. "Shoulda seen it comin'." He looked up then, "Shoulda followed my gut. I knew somethin' was up."
"That was a damn sneaky cowards way of killin' someone, sendin' some animal that don't think in ta do the dirty work. That poor thing was a suicide bomb and didn't even know it, which is a step above the fucking human assholes that do it willingly," he added as an afterthought.
"Those fanatical pricks got about as much thought process as ducks anyways." Vin added.
Buck smiled grimly, "Ain't that the truth... But you can't predict what every crazy is gonna do, we all know the risks, we know you watch our backs better'n anyone else, there's no one else we'd rather have there doin' the job and there's not a man coulda stopped that nutter from taking out Carlos today, not with all the premeditated work that went into it. Chris knows the score, every day we put ourselves at risk. Don't let him hear you blamin' yourself for this."
Vin met Buck's gaze again and this time his eyes were hard, uncompromising. "I want this prick, Buck."
Buck smiled and reached out to slap Vin on the back affectionately, "Now that's more like it. That's what I came to find you about." He noticed Vin wince and remembered his injured arm. "Shit, sorry. How is it?" he asked him, he had forgotten about the bullet wound that Vin had concealed beneath the open shirt he now wore over his t-shirt.
"Fine, I'm lucky she was shakin' so bad she missed."
"Wouldn't call that a miss, exactly." They were quiet a moment before Buck continued. "The explosives team have already concluded this is the same man responsible for several other assassinations not only here, but nation wide. We're on the case as of now and we can still work on Giorgi, that sonofabitch sure knows who he hired to do this."
This was good news, he was going to put time into finding the bastard anyway, but now they could do it in an official capacity.
"Remember that Judge that got taken out by a wind-up mouse last year?"
Vin nodded, "Same guy?"
"They think so… and another thing, he was the Judge presiding over a small case relating to one Armando Giorgi."
Vin's eyebrows rose in surprise.
"He rejected the appeal Armando's lawyers made and rumour has it, refused to be bribed. He was dead three days later and the case went to another Judge. They couldn't find any evidence to link Armando to the killing, the next Judge accepted the appeal and the case was eventually thrown out."
Vin whistled. "Slippery bastard… So he's used this guy before."
Again Buck nodded. "This guy is famous in the explosive's field. There's a file of unsolved cases a mile long pointing at him. Our own explosive's task force have been after him for years."
"They got a description of this guy? Fuck, he could've left the country by now."
"That's the thing, they seem to think he doesn't move around much at all. His work is so clean, so untraceable, he has no need to relocate himself and most of his smaller work has been close to the city. I haven't heard if there's a description on him yet, JD and Ez are already looking into him."
"Alright, I'm gonna head back to the office for a while then, you staying here fer a bit?"
Buck nodded. "Thought I'd give you a chance to head in, knew you'd want to after you heard the news. My cars on the second level."
Vin went back into Chris's room before he left, standing by his bed and taking his cool hand briefly. 'You rest easy now, Cowboy, I'll be back with good news.'
Chris did not awaken, but Vin felt a slight movement in the hand beneath his own. He left quietly, wanting to have as many answers as he could for Chris before he was lucid enough to start asking them.
..
The Ginger Man popped a dark candy in his mouth and stared at the large, paused screen before him, not moving an inch on the soft, plush white couch. He had enlarged the camera feed and now had a clear view of the ATF agent he had injured in the park. He knew he had injured him purely by the distance he was standing only moments before the explosion, but he had not killed him, he knew that, for he knew his explosives well.
Suddenly he pushed up out of his chair and headed for his files. He knew that face, he knew that face… absently he tapped the top of the filing cabinet, thinking a moment before he reached down and pulled out the second drawer. He skimmed through the alphabetical files, J; K; L… He pulled out the folder marked "L" and took it with him to his computer, dumping the solitary CD case out into his hand and eyeing the plastic cover a moment. The gold CD shone in the light as he took it out, handling it carefully as put it in his CD drive. His mind was like an endless filing cabinet itself and never had it failed him yet. This mystery was perturbing to him, but he would work it out soon enough, of that he was confident.
..
By the time Vin entered the office, the investigation was well under way to find out who the mystery bomber was. JD informed him that three members of the ATF's specialised explosives task force would be arriving soon from the Chicago Field Division to talk to them and work with them on the case. Ezra had gone with Josiah to speak to a widow whose late husband was thought to have been murdered by the same assassin two years before. She had already been questioned thoroughly after the event, but they hoped there could be something originally missed. Nathan was still at the scene, trying to find out what they had discovered about the device itself other than their initial findings.
"How much do we know about this person?" Vin asked JD as he walked to his desk, "Other than that they think he lives locally."
JD did not look up from his screen as he answered, if he lost his train of thought for too long, he would have a hard time remembering the trail he had taken to get to the files he was currently delving into. "There's not a lot. No physical descriptions, no eyewitnesses. Only his style and unique devices tie his work together. The only time an informant came forward with information, she was killed before they had a chance to question her, a bomb in the police car that was escorting her under their protection."
Vin shook his head as he flicked through his in-tray of mail.
"The best lead they had was a politician's wife, who said that there was a thin man of average height hanging around her house a few days prior to the explosion that took out her husband in their den. She said she noticed him walk by twice because he had a high-necked sweater on and she thought it was a bit warm for that, but he was wearing a hat and dark glasses and she couldn't tell much else about him. She thought she even saw him when the emergency crews had moved in to seal the area."
Vin had stopped to look at JD in thought as he gave him the information, something he'd said triggering a memory as the office doors opened and Nathan walked in ahead of what he assumed were the ATF agents they were expecting.
"Vin this is Agent Moriss, Tucker and Bryant of the National Explosives Task Force," Vin shook their hands in turn. "This is Agent Tanner," Nathan pointed towards JD who stood and moved to also shake their hands, "and Agent Dunne."
Moriss addressed Vin, "Agent Tanner… you're the sharpshooter we hear so much about. It's a pleasure to meet you."
The statement was polite, merely one of fact. Vin smiled briefly, "That depends on what you hear."
Moriss smiled, "Only good things. I'm sorry to hear about your Captain, Larabee's a well respected man."
Vin nodded and shared a glance with Nathan, wishing Chris were around to handle the situation. "He'll be ok in a few days." His eyes glinted in the light. "Let's just make sure we get this sonofabitch."
Moriss nodded. "This is a good lead and believe me, I've been assigned to this case for over a year now, there's nothing I'd like better than to get this prick."
"Are you boys ready to go over this, did you catch breakfast?" Nathan asked them.
Tucker rubbed his stomach idly, "Unfortunately, we ate on the plane, we're ready to get started if you are."
Vin indicated the meeting room, "This way." He looked back at JD, "When's Ez and Josiah due back?"
"I do believe I can hear the mispronunciation of my name."
Vin grinned at Ezra as he came through the doors with Josiah just at that moment. "Nice timin' fella's. We're about to have a meeting with the Explosives boys, you comin' JD?"
As they filed into the meeting room Nathan rounded on Vin. "Hows your arm?"
"Got it seen to Nate, it's just a scratch." At Nathan's disbelieving look he smiled and flexed his arm, "Honest ta God, this time I ain't lyin'."
"You were injured today, Agent Tanner?" Moriss asked, "I was not aware of that."
Vin took a seat, throwing Nathan a dirty look. "Just a scratch, the woman who…" Vin hesitated, disturbed by the morning's events and struggling to put them into words, "took her life, got a shot off first, just a graze."
Moriss nodded, "I was briefed about the woman, the report failed to mention her firing a shot, though. This is the second time we know of where he has used a third party to aid in his plan."
They each seated themselves and began going through all of the information they had on each of the cases linked to the assassin, the three Agents trying to build a profile of the man from what they new. Photo's were produced of aftermaths of bombings, lists of people targeted, until all felt numb over the sheer extent of the man's killing spree.
"The only physical description we have is of a thin man of average height," Josiah told the three agents. He looked to his own team then, "The politician's wife Ezra and I visited did not have anything new to add to her original statement."
"Unfortunately this guy is almost invisible. No-one has ever seen him or spoken to him in person," Tucker said.
"I've been delving around case files today, seems he has a bit of a reputation online amongst explosives enthusiasts," JD said.
Bryant added, "There is information from the FBI's online investigation team, that links to the activities of a person who calls himself the 'Ginger Man'."
JD's head snapped up at that. "I read something about him only an hour ago when I was searching. He's something of a legend to certain communities."
Bryant nodded. "There's nothing more than rumours and links which discuss a man by this name and relate him to several bombings around the country. He's considered an online myth, but there is always the possibility that there is truth to the rumours. The information is all totally unsubstantiated, but not something we have totally ruled out. The internet is monitored closely for any mention of his name but so far has not turned up anything concrete."
They were all flicking through photographs laid out in piles on the large table as Josiah asked Vin quietly, "You ok, Vin?"
Vin looked up from where he had been holding his head in his hands, head down and thinking. "Fine… somethin' 'bout the name… Ginger Man…," his eyes narrowed in thought again as JD spoke.
"What the hell is this?"
Bryant leant towards JD beside him and looked at the photograph he was referring to.
"A hand, inside a glove," he informed him grimly. They were used to the site of these case photo's, but this was new to the Denver Team.
"Where's the arm?" JD looked sideways at the photo, "It's untouched," he remarked.
"That was pried from a golf club," Moriss told them, "the victim was blown up the instant his club hit the ball on the first tee of the day, the club was found almost a hundred metres away, the hand still attached to the grip inside the glove. Took out three interstate political delegates in the one hit."
JD's face screwed up in disgust and the rest of Team Seven remained quiet, absorbing as much information about the man they were after as possible.
"Does he usually work alone?" Vin asked, studying several shots of crowds gathered behind police tape at a devastated building. "You mentioned he has used a third party before."
"Usually he does. You have probably heard of the case of Judge Walters, that happened right here in your city, where he used a woman to let a bomb rigged to a wind-up mouse loose in the courtroom. She was caught fleeing the courthouse, but like I said earlier, she was taken out by the car bomb in the squad car." Moriss looked at Vin. "It's likely that if that woman today had not killed herself, he would have taken her out anyway before she could talk to anyone."
Vin looked down again, he was not ready to replay that little scenario in his head yet. The picture of innocent, crying blue eyes was still strong in his mind. Even as the child had been taken away, finally quiet as it was soothed in a paramedic's arms, his throat had still been tight with emotion. "Well, he didn't have to worry about taking her out," he said quietly, studying the photo that was on the table directly below his head.
"How does he know the woman did not talk to you before she took her own life?" Ezra asked Vin then and they all looked at him.
"You mean he might try and kill Vin, thinking the woman gave him a description?" JD asked.
"It would be too late for that, if he knew Agent Tanner knew, he would have eliminated him by now," Tucker said.
"Exactly," Josiah said, Ezra's question stirring up more in his mind. "This is a man who doesn't leave loose ends. He would have made sure that woman was not going to tell anyone, but he could not predict her suicide, or her talking to Vin… The only way he could know that she killed herself before she said anything to anyone, was if he was watching her…"
They all looked back at Vin then. After the initial explosion the events had flown past in a blur as he had run through the park and then stopped the woman on the street. The morning had been so crazy he had yet to sit and rethink his actions completely, or replay the events thoroughly in his mind. He dropped his head forward, elbows on the table and hands massaging the back of his neck where his hair fell away across his face. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He saw again Chris hitting the tree with a sickening impact and fought to move on from the image… He saw JD at the van, the people coming out onto the street, heard the sirens, felt the charge of adrenaline again move through his body… He saw the coffee shop, the woman with the pram, the coffee shop… the man with the newspaper, saw him look up, the orange hair…"
"What was it the politician's wife said about seeing the man wearing a sweater?" He asked the group.
"She said she noticed a man of average height and build pass her street twice and believes she may have again witnessed him after the event. According to her statement, it was his high-necked sweater that led her to notice him as she considered the weather to be too warm to warrant such clothing," Ezra answered.
Vin looked up and took his hands from his neck, a picture suddenly forming and taking hold in his mind, as clear as his clear blue eyes. He stared straight ahead as he again pictured the whole scene in his mind. His voice was low, disbelieving as a realisation began to form. "Motherfucker…" he whispered in a drawn out breath as they watched him intently, leaning forward to hear his muttered curse. Suddenly he slammed his open hands on the table with enough force that they all jumped slightly in their seats, watching as he stood abruptly and cursed again, louder this time. "Sonofabitch!"
"What is it, Vin, you remember something from this morning?"
Vin looked at Josiah, thankful someone had pulled him up from the rage that was starting to build. "He was right there, Josiah! The motherfucker was sitting right there! He looked right at me!" He slammed a hand on the table again, "Damn the prick, he looked right at me!"
Moriss got to his feet to, but unlike Vin he was not angry, he was trying to calm his rising excitement. "What makes you think it was him?"
Vin swung to face him. "The high necked sweater, the dark glasses, the bright 'ginger' hair..." he said with certainty, "Damn it!"
"Holy shit…" JD swore in disbelief.
"Why the hell didn't I go to him instead of her? I was thinking it was too cold to be out having a coffee that time of morning and I passed him over for her I coulda had him right there!"
"Mr Tanner, anyone up and about at that Godforsaken hour is acting suspiciously, you could not possibly have detained them all at once."
Nathan shook his head, "Only in comparison to your lazy hide, Ezra."
"I resent that, Mr Jackson."
"Agent Tanner, do not sell yourself short. I do believe you have just given us the first physical description of our culprit, no-one else has managed to achieve so much, especially in one day. A less observant man would have missed him altogether," Moriss told Vin with a giant grin that he was unable to control.
"I missed him," JD said then in disbelief, "I was standing in the same street. I didn't even see him when Vin approached the lady," JD said, still not believing Vin had seen him right there before them.
"That's why Vin's our sharpshooter, JD," Josiah said with a slight smile.
Bryant and Tucker too, were excited. "I can't believe it, this is finally our break, this is more information than we've got all year," Tucker said.
Vin held Moriss's look a moment and then looked at Tucker, his eyes hard. "This time he's fucked with the wrong people, that's his first mistake."
..
Newton smiled as he leant back in his chair before his computer screen. Taking up the entire panel was a photo he had not looked at in years, a very early case that had bothered him for a long time afterward, for he had failed to take out his intended mark. He had almost been compelled to go after the man again even after the hit was removed and the money revoked, but he had moved on to another job and put it behind him. He had not wanted to get personal back then and as there was no longer any money in it, he had let it go. Now, however, he had made his money, in a thousand different forms of explosive violence, he could afford to pursue some personal interests. He had been performing jobs for so many people now that it was becoming routine, despite his never-ending source of creativity in coming up with new devices.
Yes, he decided right then. He could afford to take some personal time, tie up a loose end that had been nagging at him for years, have a little fun. He smiled at the image of the ATF Agent that had been bothering his memory. Larabee's head was bowed in the picture as he stood slightly apart from the rest of the mourners at the funeral of his wife and son... This time he would not fail.
..
7. Cyber-Warfare
A quiet groan was the first sound to come from Room 404 in the entire hour that Vin Tanner had again sat vigil by his best friend's bedside. It was a soft noise, a sign that the injured man lying so still in the bed was finally awakening into the dim light of the room, yet the Texan heard the sound as if it were a scream into the silence. He hated this, hated this helplessness and waiting. He had stopped replaying the scene in his mind, blocked out the picture of Chris slamming into that tree under the force of the fiery explosion, for he could no longer relive the experience without wanting to strike out at something.
Every day on the streets they saw criminals walking free. Drug dealers, weapon's dealers, murderers, all walking the city as if they had every right to, like they did not belong rotting in a prison or six feet under. It was part of the job, the acceptance that you could only do your best to get as many of the bastards as you could off the street, that it was not personal, it was your living. Yet so many times it was impossible to separate the job from their personal lives. Knowing what was out there, right under their noses, made it difficult to forget when the working day was over… and it took a lot of strength and conviction not to become jaded by it.
Vin moved to Chris's side now, his jaw clenched tightly as he reached out a hand to push the blonde hair aside and out of the green eyes that he hoped he was about to see. The movement revealed that the darkness around the closed eyes was not shadow, but dark bruising resulting from his head wound and Vin's jaw worked again to control his anger. This was his family, his brother, a man who meant more to him than catching any criminal in the real world. Right now, that room *was* his world and everything outside of it came second. The bastard who did this was going to pay, that was a certainty, but not yet, not at this moment. Right now, his brother was more important.
Another soft moan and Chris's eyelids finally fluttered. He kept them closed a moment, testing to see how strong the pounding in his head was this time, wanting to know if he was about to be sick again if he found it unbearable. Another few shallow breaths and he blinked again, finding even the dim light bright and giving another sound of protest. He had not been fully aware of anyone in his room that day, not Buck who had sat by his bed most of the morning, not Nathan who had taken over at lunch, not the doctors or nurses who had come in to wake him regularly and question him to ensure he was recovering alright, but he knew Vin was there. He'd felt him there even before he'd felt the strong fingers squeezing his forearm in encouragement… and was glad for it. Somehow, facing reality again after something like this was always easier when Vin was there to face it with him. Meeting him had made every day a little more bearable until he found himself actually wanting to see what a new day would bring. Life had never been dull, since he'd met the sharpshooter, that was for sure. Since he'd put together his team of seven, he had found his purpose again.
Finally he made out the outline of Vin's hair in the low light and knew his face would be amongst the scruffy picture somewhere.
"Get a… haircut… you bum…"
Vin's lopsided grin was casual, but served to release the building pressure from his jaw. A head injury was no small deal and until he had heard the first sensible words come from Chris's mouth, he had not been able to believe the doctors assurances that everything looked fine in the tests.
"You first," he answered, seeing clearly the too long tufts of blonde that framed Chris's face on the pillow.
"'Shave wouldn't be a bad thing, neither."
Chris closed his eyes, but there was a faint smile on his lips. "Fuck you, Tanner."
They were silent a moment, both adjusting to the change in the room. Vin felt the tension slowly leaving him and Chris was trying to snatch hold of the murky visions that swam through his battered skull. Vin waited, content to give Chris time to pull himself back to the land of the living.
"What time is it?" came the first question.
"Three o'clock... afternoon."
Chris opened his eyes again, found the picture not quite as unfocused this time. "Why aren't you at work?" he said, his voice still slightly unsure.
Vin's grin grew. "Thought I'd slack off a little and use you as an excuse."
Chris let the sound of Vin's drawl seep into him, like a comforting shroud. Just the sound of it soothed him and allowed him to relax, giving him the strength to work through his thoughts. It was something to hold onto, something real and familiar.
"Meet… with Carlos…" he said out loud, the first thing that came to his mind from the morning.
Vin nodded. "In the park…" He prompted gently.
Chris's brow puckered as he finally made out Vin's clear eyes above him. Meeting with Carlos, in the park… Purple tracksuit… Vin kicking a duck, Buck complaining… Carlos on the bench, ducks everywhere… a skinny duck, a monkey… a monkey?
"What the hell happened?" he said then, a little alarmed as the sickening wave of thoughts turned into a flash flood. "I turned to leave and… Carlos showed me that toy… then…" he looked up at Vin, not able to remember.
"Relax, will ya?" Vin smiled, seeing that Chris was upset at his loss of memory. "Everythin's fine. Ya turned ta leave and got blown ta hell. That monkey was rigged up ta take Carlos out. Someone planted a device in it an' sent it ta Carlos strapped ta that duck. There was nothin' left of him… or the duck… You got in the way too, slammed into a tree."
"Head first," Chris guessed quietly, taking the information in.
Vin's lip curled again. "Yeah, head first."
Chris thought a moment, sifting through thoughts slowly, trying not to let them rush him again. He looked up and tried to study Vin's face. "You find anything? What don't I know?"
Vin took a seat beside the bed and leant his elbows on the mattress. "Jesus... where do I start…"
"Start with what happened to your arm."
Vin frowned at the white bandage that was now poking out of the arm of his grey t-shirt, the same t-shirt he'd been wearing since the morning. He should have left the shirt on, he wasn't ready to talk yet about what had happened.
"Ain't nothin'." Vin settled back in his chair, still facing Chris, but propping his boots on the lower rail by Chris's legs. He took a deep breath. "Turns out there's a list of offences pointing to the guy that rigged that device. Explosives sent three Agents over from Chicago, they've been investigating the bastard for years but they've never gotten a good lead… until now."
"Who is he?"
"They think he might be a guy goes by the alias, `Ginger Man.' They never knew why until I realised I actually saw the prick when I went looking when you were out."
Chris hiked up an eyebrow automatically. "He was there?" He looked at Vin's arm again, "You tangled with him?"
Vin looked down. "No… I noticed him, but I approached a woman with a pram who looked suspicious."
Chris did not miss the downcast eyes and waited.
"Turns out she was paid ta take the duck in the park and send it to the old guy. She looked a little fried… She pulled a gun on me, an'…" Vin lent his head back to look at the ceiling, blowing out a frustrated breath before he continued. "... an' she distracted me with her baby while she blew her own brains out on the side-walk."
"She what?" Chris had not expected that and was looking to Vin for more information. "What in hell for?"
But Vin had no answers to give him. He'd dwelled on it long enough now to know that sometimes there just were no satisfactory explanations in life. "Guess she figured it was better'n jail..."
Chris closed his eyes a moment, imagining what Vin had dealt with. "And the baby?"
Vin's eyes clouded even as against his will, an image formed of blue eyes and bright pink cheeks. "He's fine..." he looked at Chris then and when he spoke, Chris knew he need something from him. "He's young 'nuff to find a good home."
Chris wanted to punch something. Of all his team, that had to happen to Vin who was bounced from foster home to foster home until he had long given up on the system and decided to take the world on on his own terms, head on. "You said it yourself, she was unstable. A person really wants to take their own life, ain't nothin' you can do about it, sometime's they're beyond reasoning with. That baby will get every chance to have a decent life."
Vin looked back down. "I had a feelin'…" He shrugged then, as if putting his own problems aside and moving on before he looked back up. "Anyway, I missed the real guy sittin' pretty, havin' a coffee as calm as ya please up the road a'ways," he said a little to casually.
"Vin…"
Vin looked up, knowing Chris would not let him brush it off that easily. "You did all you could."
Vin's voice was raw as he answered in a soft, strained voice. "I know…" No-one else would see how he was dealing with this, how much it bothered them, for he would not let them see. Chris, however was another matter, there was nothing he had to hide from him. "I know," he said again, a little more forcefully and his eyes met Chris's in a soulful plea, "… but it don't stop me seein' her lookin' at me, hearin' that baby cryin', seein' those innocent eyes starin' up at me... She might'a got away, an' that baby would still have its mother, if I'd gone after that smug sonofabitch instead."
Chris shook his head a little. "Don't dwell on the might of beens... We can't afford to second guess ourselves, not in this game, you know that. Whatever happens to one of us, happens to us all, Vin. Whatever you do, there's six men right behind you, knowing you did the right thing" he said firmly, his voice telling Vin there was no other alternative to the matter. He saw that Vin needed time for his words to sink in. "You see the psych department yet?"
"They've got my initial report, guess they'll be in touch soon enough." The Texan grinned a little then. "Least that'll be a li'l fun."
Chris grinned back, knowing the hell all of his boys put the psych team through. The door opened softly and Buck poked his head in like a turtle, scanning the room before he entered.
"Hey Chris, `bout time you were up," he said, grinning in relief to see his oldest friend awake. He nodded to Vin, "Duck boy wake you up with all his chattering?" he asked, thinking that the room would have had about as much conversation as a memorial silence before he got there.
Chris's lip curled, remembering again the sight of Vin kicking out at a duck, complaining as they stalked him. He looked at Vin then, who was scowling at Buck. "I never knew you had a thing about ducks."
Vin let out an angry breath, trust Buck to bring that up straight off the bat. "I don't have a thing `bout ducks. There's only one I wanted ta kill, not the whole friggin' species." He stood up then, easing out his cramped legs and heading for the door. "I need a drink."
Buck laughed at Vin's back as he reached the door. "Get me a coke, willya?"
The clear "Fuck you," came from beyond the closed door.
Vin frowned back at the nurse that had overheard him outside the room, ignoring the giggling pair standing at a counter. To hell with everyone…
Buck settled into Vin's vacated chair, his face turning serious. "He tell you everything?"
Chris eased his head back into his pillow, exhaling as he spoke. "Told me explosives are working the case… and he told me about the suicide."
Buck shook his head. "Damn selfish thing to do, taking her life like that, leavin' a kid behind…"
Chris looked at Buck thoughtfully, but Buck could see he wasn't focusing on him. "Doubt she thought it was selfish… Person in that state of mind can think that they're doing the world a favour by leaving it… Think they don't deserve to be a part of it, that it has nothing to offer them, or them it…"
Buck looked sharply at Chris. Is that how far Chris's thinking had gotten when Sarah had died? Had he thought about leaving the world behind, that he did not deserve to live? Buck had always thought it selfish to take your own life, a cowards way out of dealing with things… but to a man who rarely got depressed, it was difficult to understand what could drive a person to take such measures. Chris had given him something to think about. Jesus, what if he had left and Chris had done himself in? But he couldn't afford to think like that, what happened was in the past. He had to believe he had done all that he could, had helped Chris to the point where he needed to help himself or he was never going to return to the land of the living.
"Hows Vin taking it?" he asked.
"Like Vin," Chris said simply, blinking out of his momentary melancholy. "He hasn't said much about this guy we're after yet, what did the explosives team say?"
"He's no small fish, responsible for a lotta deaths here and around the country. They think he operates out of Denver and thanks to Vin, they've finally gotten a description. They put together a sketch based on Vin's information and posted it out, he's a wanted man with a face now. Pretty distinct looking guy, bright red hair, we're hoping we can get to him before he changes his appearance."
"What about the bust tomorrow? You notify the other departments?"
Buck nodded. "Vin took care of it. Had a meeting with the other teams, Wilson's gonna set his team up to watch the dock for activity tonight, then swap with Team Five tomorrow. Still a chance somethin' might go down."
Chris sighed. "Damn.. I can't believe it got so fucked up, I really thought tomorrow was gonna be a good day…" He was thoughtful a moment before he spoke, his voice regretful. "That old man never saw it comin'…"
"Never know when yer time's up." Buck said. "But one things for sure, that present came straight from Giorgio. Travis wants us workin' with the explosive's team, hopefully we can tie in the two cases, get all of the bastards in one hit."
Chris looked up at him. "He's one slippery bastard, Giorgio. He's probably dug a hole back to hell to hide by now."
The door opened and Vin returned, tossing a can of coke to Buck, none too gently.
"Thanks, Junior! Needed to `wet my beak', so to speak…"
Vin's eyes flew to Bucks and he scowled… how long would this go on for? Knowing Buck, until Vin was forced to kill him. Still, he'd have his revenge. One… two… three…
"GODAMNIT TO HELL!" Buck leapt from his chair as the coke sprayed all over him, holding the exploding can away from himself as it continued to spew its dark, sticky contents out over the rim and onto the sterile floor. His face and shirt were saturated as Vin casually leant against the side table beside Chris's bed, sipping his own drink casually but noisily.
"Damn, those vending machines really throw those drinks out sometimes, can never be sure yer not gettin' a soda-bomb fer yer dollar."
As Buck cursed his way into the adjoining bathroom Chris shook his head at Vin. "You ask for it you know."
Vin grinned, "Yeah I know, but he had it comin'. `Side's," he rose his voice so that Buck could hear him, "Chris is the one that got blown up by a duck, he's got more to hold against the critters'n I have!"
"Don't make him start on me," Chris warned.
Buck poked his head out, grinning as he mopped out his shirt with a hand towel. "Technically it was a monkey that took Chris out, I'd say that earns him the title of –"
"Say it, Buck, I dare you."
Buck grinned at the fierce glare coming from the bed and returned to the sink out of sight. "See Junior? Chris leaves me no option but to pick on you!" he called out.
"You leave me no option but to put a bullet in yer ass if ya keep it up."
A nurse entered then, looking prim in her neat uniform, her dark red hair secure at the back of her neck. She walked forward straight into the wet spillage before either Chris or Vin could stop her. Chris closed his eyes and Vin winced as she stopped in her tracks and looked down in dismay at her shoes. Buck came out of the bathroom, still cursing and holding the depleted can in his hands, looking down as he held his soaking shirt-front away from his skin.
"I'm gonna shove this can up your fuckin' a- Ahhh… ooops," Buck's recovering grin was instant as he took in the nurse scowling at him fiercely, standing in a pool of fizzing liquid accusingly. The evidence still held in his hand sealed his fate as to who was responsible for the shoe-wrecking mess.
"Well… Guess I'll be headin' off," Vin said, an innocent expression on his face. "I'll be back in later, Chris."
Chris nodded to him, not surprised he was fleeing the scene.
Vin looked at Buck, pointing to the floor, "Might wanna clean up yer mess, there, Bucklin, fore ya ruin someone's day… Ma'am," he nodded to the nurse, already grinning before he headed out the door.
Buck looked from the nurse, to the empty doorway, then to Chris, finding his friend conveniently pretending to be asleep, only the curl of his lip giving away his amusement. He gave up and decided to try the Wilmington charm on the irate woman who had not yet moved.
"I suppose dinner is out of the question?"
..
JD waited patiently for Chris's computer to boot up. Chris had asked him to retrieve a file from his machine to send over to the hospital. Out of everyone's, Chris's was the slowest, in serious need of an upgrade, yet it did not seem to bother his captain. JD supposed to older guys, what they had not experienced, they did not miss. If Chris could only sit in front of –his- machine at home for a few minutes, he would see that he did not have to go through endless minutes of waiting for things to open and close and restart and connect… But he had given up trying to convince him to upgrade the office. Besides, with the amount of times the rest of the guys corrupted the network, usually Buck by downloading things from the internet, it was probably better to save the expense.
Finally the machine booted and he entered Chris's password, waiting again for the system to connect to the network. Dammit, he could be here all year! He needed food if he was going to deal with this… He left the machine and went to find something edible in the office kitchen, finding Ezra making fresh coffee.
"Hey Ez, you been over to see Chris yet?"
"Not as yet, I was planning on visiting on my way home."
"Reckon you could take a file over there with you? Chris asked me to print something off his machine."
"It would be my pleasure." Ezra took his coffee and headed for the door, saying in a low tone as he left, "I seek only to do thy bidding, Master Dunne…"
Hearing the sarcastic muttering, JD rolled his eyes, it would not be Ezra if he did not complain in some way. He found a half empty packed of corn chips and headed back to Chris's office, frowning as he heard the low sound that was now coming from his machine as he moved around behind the screen. He froze as he saw the animated picture that filled the monitor. The maniacal laughter seemed to chill him to his very core as he turned his head, not looking away as he shouted for the rest of the guys to come and look.
..
Wade Newton smiled as he looked at his screen, an exact mirror of what was right now displayed on Chris Larabee's screen. It had been simple to send the trojan to the computer that allowed him to view its contents as if he were sitting right before it. Everything on it was now his to play with. Firstly, he had hacked into the FBI files and found his likeness being circulated for one and all to see. He had been so angry to see that, he had smashed his chair against a wall in rage, but he had calmed down enough to start planning his course of action. It was a hindrance, nothing more. Dying his hair had taken only half an hour and had not stopped him from working except to rinse out the dark colour.
It must have been that agent he had seen run for the woman across the street that had identified him. He had to give them credit for working that much out after so long. A little research and he had discovered a lot more than he needed to about Chris Larabee and his team of specialised agents. Internal articles had them continually praised for their efforts, labelling them a close-knit team that were more than team-mates, they were close friends beyond the job as well. Well… he'd see just how close they were. Number one rule of combat, take out the leader first, then see how the team held up with no direction! Satisfied, he executed the timed program that would erase all of the files on the agent's machine and seriously corrupt the entire network it sat on, before exiting just in time to avoid his detection. While they tried to trace him, they would be leaving themselves open for destruction. He grinned, seeing his download of information from the machine complete before pushing his chair in and standing a moment, waiting... Then his screen flickered and the image changed, the photo he had found just that morning filling the screen, soon to be displayed across town on another monitor where it was no doubt being viewed closely by concerned agents. He grabbed his jacket and hat as he headed out, this was going to be fun.
..
Nathan, Ezra and Josiah gathered behind JD in Chris's office, watching the screen as JD spoke with the security team in the server room downstairs.
"What is that?" Nathan asked, looking at the fireball that was disappearing on Chris's screen.
"Wait…" JD said, watching as the cartoon began again. The laughter started and the picture of the ginger bread man appeared on the screen, pulling out a gun and pointing it at them, firing and then dancing off in the explosion.
"Dear God…" Ezra said as they all realised what was happening.
"Why don't you clear the screen?" Nathan asked.
"We're trying to trace him." JD informed him.
"Why Chris's machine?" Josiah asked, frowning.
"He must know who he put in the hospital today," Nathan said.
"Yes, but why leave him a calling card?" Ezra wondered aloud.
"Has he ever done that before?" Josiah asked.
Nathan turned to the outer office. "Moriss will be able to tell us."
"And we need to get security over to the hospital," Josiah said, heading to his own phone.
"What game are you playing?" Ezra whispered at the screen as the image began to change.
"Isn't that…?" JD began, squinting at the image that had begun to appear before them, a clear, large photo filling the screen.
Ezra's face paled in the artificial lighting. "Yes… Mr Dunne… It is…"
The first half of a short verse began to appear over the image,
'Missed you twice Mr Larabee, This time you will play with me…'
..
Part 8. Personal Calls and Car Trouble
Chris was dozing lightly when he felt goosebumps chill his skin beneath the light cover that rested over him. He stirred, opening his eyes to hear the phone ring quietly beside him and Buck's voice answer softly. Something was wrong…
Vin was still a good twenty minutes from the federal building when he saw steam coming from under the hood of Buck's car. Cursing with passion, he pulled over to the emergency lane and stopped the engine. He sat a moment, hands on the wheel, simply cursing his misfortune before he reached a hand to the door to investigate the damage with one last choice word aimed at both the car and it's neglectful owner.
..
"Wilmington."
"Buck it's JD."
"Missin' me already kid?" Buck said quietly, before he saw that there was no need, Chris was staring back at him, fully awake.
"Shut up and listen, Buck."
The tone of JD's voice had Buck frowning in instant alert.
"The Ginger guy is onto us. He infected Chris's computer, totally wiped it clean, but not before he left a message for him. We tried to do an initial trace, but he disconnected just in time. The tech guys downstairs are still trying to trace back for his location. This guy is smart, Buck."
"Why Chris?" Buck said, confused.
"Nathan spoke to Moriss and his guys, they say he has never done anything like this before… Somehow he's identified Chris as the agent involved and Buck, the message makes it clear this is personal… It wasn't about Carlos or Giorgi…"
"Personal? For what reason? How does he know Chris?"
"From the past… Ezra seems to think he might have made a connection between Chris and an incident that happened a few years back, that maybe he hacked into the report files…"
"What the hell did the message say?"
Back at his desk, JD sighed. "Is Chris next to you?"
"Just tell me JD," Buck almost growled.
"Backup's on its way to you, they're going to get you out of there, Josiah's co-ordinating the –"
Buck's voice was barely controlled, "JD."
JD sighed. "It was a picture of a ginger bread man, he fires a shot at the screen, when that finished he left a picture of… Jesus Buck you have to make sure Chris takes this OK… It was a picture of Chris… It was taken at the funeral for Sarah and Adam…"
Buck all but fell into the chair behind him, his face completely shocked. Chris sat up higher in the bed, wincing as his ribs shifted, knowing the news was anything but good.
"You there, Buck?"
"Yeah kid… what else?" Buck said quietly, running a hand across his troubled face.
"There was writing over the picture. It said…" There was a rustle of paper before JD read out the message he had written down as he and Ezra had stared in shock at the screen. "Missed you twice Mr Larabee, this time you will play with me… Run, run, as fast as you can –"
"You can't catch me, I'm the Gingerbread Man…" Buck finished and this time there was an angry glint in his eyes. He had yet to look at Chris, they were dealing with the bastard who had obviously killed his wife and child, how the hell was he going to tell him that?
"Yep, you got it." JD said. "Josiah should be there soon, there'll be agents there to secure the area. The hospital security are being alerted, we need to get you guys out of there as fast as possible before he tries something. If he's managed to get into our network, there's no telling what he knows." They were both silent a moment before JD continued in a tentative voice. "Hey, Buck?"
"Yeah kid?"
"Can you let Chris know that… well, you know…"
"Sure kid… I'll speak to you soon, keep your line open."
Buck hung up and turned to Chris, his elbows resting on his knees and met the waiting green eyes head on. There was a sense of urgency here that could not be ignored, but what he had to say could not be rushed, it deserved a thoughtful approach. "It's not good," he said, letting out a deep breath.
"I gathered that much." Chris smiled, but it clearly did not reach his eyes. He was letting Buck know it was ok, he was only the messenger. Whatever it was his old friend had to say, he had no pleasure in telling him, that was obvious. "Just tell me straight, Buck." His voice was firm, he would stand for nothing less than a straight answer.
Buck took another deep breath. "This guy we're after, this `Ginger Man'… shit…" he looked out the window a moment, finding the words before he looked back at the questioning, yet steeled, gaze. "He sent a message to your computer before he wiped it clean."
Chris's eyes narrowed. "I thought we had the most secure system in the world, how the hell could someone do that?"
Buck looked down, he had no answers, he was definitely no computer whiz. "There's more." He waited until Chris was looking at him again. "He knows who you are and… it seems he might have known you from a few years back."
"I'd know if I'd met this guy before. There wasn't -"
"From the time Sarah and Adam were killed." Buck said quickly, not wanting to draw it out any longer.
Chris's next words died in his throat as he swallowed them, his adams apple moving as his eyes took on the glint of the devil itself. He barely heard Buck's low voice continue. "He left a message implying he was aiming for you, he said he missed you twice, that –"
"What exactly was the message?" The voice was harsh, a low growl that caused Buck to flinch, even though he knew it was not directed at him.
"Missed you twice, Mr Larabee, this time you will play with me… He sent a picture of you at their funeral."
Outside of the room, the hospital was an unheeded maze of activity, even as the hands of Chris Larabee's mind spun backwards to a time that had never been buried. A laughing, beautiful boy, a woman who could rival the sweetest of angels, that he had once dared to call his own. They were not his at all, not really. They were only borrowed for a time, from the cruel God that sought to find them a better place, one that was a step beyond his unworthy arms.
"Chris…" Buck watched in pain as the strong face before him hardened and filled with a new grief and anger. He had seen that expression before, had hoped never to see it again. "Chris," he said again, in a firmer voice.
Chris's life began to spin as he relived the past with a new perspective. He could not speak, was not aware that his breathing had all but ceased within his hollow chest. Every image of the explosion that had killed his family came back to him, in renewed clarity. They had never discovered how the device had been planted in his home, how exactly it had been detonated, the wreckage was too intense, the equipment too professional. Had it been something as frivolous as a stuffed toy? Could Adam have held the thing in his very hands a moment before it exploded, just as that old man had earlier with a childlike fascination? Had the bastard been in his house? Was he the last person to see his wife and child on this earth? So many possibilities, yet one thing had been answered and with it came a renewed guilt that threatened to drown him in its intensity… It was because of him, that they had been killed… `Missed you twice, Mr Larabee…' the assassin had been after him…
"I'm so sorry, Chris," Buck whispered in a torn voice. "I wish this could be over for you."
Chris closed his eyes and leant his head back against the pillow, trying to stop his mind from spinning out of control. "He was after me… Why kill them?" he thought aloud.
"You can't go there again," Buck said quickly. Once before Chris had given in to the why's and how's, torturing himself with the need for answers, never finding anything but more guilt and grief. He could not allow him to succumb to that place again.
"And why tell me now?" Chris finally managed to grate out, his voice rough with controlled fury and overwhelming pain. He turned anguished eyes to Buck. "Why is he letting me know now? Why years later, why not back then?" He sat up straighter still, ignoring his suddenly pounding head and the fire poking in his side. His hands clenched the crisp sheets in their angered grasp and his rising fury was clear in his frustrated voice. "Why didn't he just finish the fucking job and take me out too?" He had just received one answer to a puzzle long left unfinished, but with it came a terrible burden. Again he felt the force of the knowledge that they had died because of him and for no other reason. He had always suspected it was so, but now he knew for sure.
Buck bowed his head a moment. He knew, if Chris had of been given the choice back then, he would have wanted it to end with his own death, for his own shattered life to be over. He shook his head slightly as he looked back up. "I don't know, Chris. This guys a real sick bastard… who knows how he's mind works…" His eyes took on a hard intensity as he stared into Chris's own. "He'll slip, everyone does, eventually."
"You said it yourself, Buck, this guys' good."
"Yes he is, he's real good at what he does."
Chris looked at him bitterly. "Killing people," he almost spat.
"Yeah…" Buck's voice was so soft it broke on the word, he too was thinking again of the family that he had loved that had rocked his world when they had been ripped from the earth so violently, "… killing people… but he's never had us on his tail before. He's messing with you, he's got seven of us coming down on him like his own personal demons.
They were quiet for a moment, both lost in thoughts of loss and trying to temper their anger. Buck knew that Chris could explode at any minute, had seen the aftermath of his rage too many times not to be expecting it.
"Ezra thinks he must have recognised your name from today. He might have hacked into the report files."
"Is everyone accounted for?" Chris asked then, stopping Buck with his firm question. Captain Larabee was never far from the surface – and he always put his team first. Buck thanked God that this time round, his friend had something else to focus on besides his own pain - and that just might make the difference.
"Josiah's on his way here. We're going to get the hell out of here as fast as we can, in case he tries to hit the building. Ezra, Nathan and JD are at the office still and Vin must be almost back there by now."
"Call his cell phone, tell him what's going on."
Chris leant his head back on the wall again as Buck dialled Vin's number. He had not been prepared to hear that news. How many times had he told Vin not to take a case personally, that it was all part of the job? Then something like this comes up to slap you in the face so abruptly it leaves you reeling. For so long now he had dreamt of finding the man who had taken away all that he had loved most. He had finally thought he was moving on, that he was being allowed to move on… he'd been wrong. He had not travelled all that far after all, the rage was just as strong, the despair just as overwhelming as it had ever been.
"No answer," Buck told him, hanging up the phone.
"Try again," Chris ordered and Buck frowned slightly but obeyed. A moment later he heard Vin's recorded message and left his own to tell him to call in asap.
..
Vin muttered another curse as he scraped his knuckles pulling at a hose near the radiator. He was going to kill Buck when he saw him, he owed him already, but now he was going to go all out in his payback. He did not hear his phone ring on the passenger seat of the car where he had left it as he ducked his head further under the hood, trying to use the army knife in his left hand to undo a clamp so as not to move his injured right arm.
..
Ezra stood behind the multiple screens in the IT security room of the federal building, the blue tinge of the monitors illuminating his grim expression. He studied the busy panels of data as if they could tell him all that he wanted to know. He knew many languages, but this was beyond his knowledge. The answers were there, the so- called 'experts' sitting before him had assured him of that, but he wondered if they would present themselves in time.
"Agent Standish, we will work back through his trail, I can call you as soon as we have a fix on him."
Ezra did not spare the man, barely more than a pimply teenager, a glance. "I assure you, I have no matter more pressing to attend."
He would hound them though `til dawn if he had to, but he would get the information he needed. Something inside told him it was imperative they find this man – and fast.
..
Chris practically growled as Buck hung up the phone again, Vin had not arrived at the office yet.
"JD will call as soon as he gets in Chris, relax, he probably stopped for some food, you know what he's like."
Even as he spoke, Buck had a niggling feeling. He thought again of the offbeat noise his car had made earlier and remembered how high his temperature gauge had been last time he'd looked and grimaced a little. It would hold out, surely it would hold out while Vin got back to the building…
"Then why isn't he answering his phone? That's not like him."
Buck did not answer. There was no point, Chris was right. A soft knock on the door announced Josiah's entrance.
"Chris, Buck."
"Josiah." Buck said as Chris nodded in greeting.
"How are you doing?" he asked Chris, concerned by the bruised skin around his eyes.
"I'll be fine, although this day just keeps getting better and better…"
"I'll bet," Josiah smiled briefly. He took a seat. "I take it JD called?" he asked them both.
"Yeah, poor kid, how'd he draw that straw?" Buck asked smiling slightly.
Josiah grinned, "Gotta be some drawback to being the youngest."
"I thought that was stupidity," Buck said, wishing JD was around to hear him. He would welcome a moment's light banter. He knew things were only going to get uglier before they got better.
Josiah got down to business. "We've got men in position around the building, the security have been notified. We need to clear out of here as quickly as possible. I've checked into available safe houses within the city…"
"How about that one with the swimming pool on the roof we holed Ezra up in last year, that available?" Buck asked hopefully.
"Not since the department sold it, something about improper use of government facilities…?"
Buck grinned, although he was disappointed. "Hell, a place like that was built for a man's pleasure, Josiah, women are drawn to it, it wasn't my fault."
Josiah ignored him as he spoke again to Chris. "Nathan's waiting to hear from me and he'll meet us at the chosen location. The doctor's going to come in now to make sure you're alright to travel," he told Chris.
"We need to get out of here as quick as we can manage it, but we'll locate Vin first."
Josiah frowned and looked from Buck to Chris. "Where is he meant to be?"
Buck gave a slight shrug. "He was headed back to the office. He should have been there by now."
The phone rang in the ensuing silence and Buck picked it up.
"Wilmington."
"Mr Larabee, please."
Buck frowned. "Mr Larabee is currently –"
"Keeping me from speaking with your Captain will serve only to prolong the inevitable, Agent Wilmington… I am a patient man, but can tend to explode when pushed, if you take my meaning."
Buck's eyes widened before flashing to Chris. "You motherfucker, you – "
"Charming. You are very much the macho agent are you not?" Newton laughed before his voice dropped. "I will speak only with Captain Larabee."
Chris and Josiah knew instantly that it was him as Buck scowled and put his hand over the phone, holding it out to Chris.
"It's him."
Part 9. Truth Not Wanted
Chris's jaw clamped tight as he ignored his burning side and sat up straighter once more, taking the phone. "What game are you playing at you prick?" he said immediately in a low, deadly tone. Laughter reached his ear in return.
"Oh, Captain Larabee, I just knew you would be fun to play with! The dark, avenging angel, so terribly wronged. Life has been a cruel journey for you, has it not?"
"What the fuck do you want from me?"
Newton sighed. So crass, these public servants. "Your pain, your total awe in the face of my brilliance and power."
Chris said nothing, just waited for the sonofabitch to get to his point, but he was taking his time getting there, toying with him.
"He was a beautiful child, was he not? Your child?" Newton prompted unexpectedly.
Chris's hand gripped the phone so tight his knuckles turned white as more laughter came to him through the line.
"He did not cry, you know, or the woman… She begged me at first, begged me to spare your son…"
"Shut the fuck up," Chris said, his voice a pained whisper. He did not want to know, he thought he always had, but when it came down to it, he did not.
"Of course I couldn't," the voice went on in a casual tone, as if he were making polite conversation. "Spare them, I mean... She was beautiful was she not?"
Chris felt the grief surge through him like a wave of heat. The thumb of his left hand moved inside his palm to his second finger where it toyed familiarly with the white gold band that rested there. People had long since stopped asking him if he was married, most knew the tragic tale already. "You ring for your own amusement or is there a point to this call?" He forced himself to ask.
Newton frowned a little at that. The man was showing him no respect… well that would change. "You surprise me, Mr Larabee, don't you want to know who put up the fee for my expertise?"
"Who put up the fee?" Chris asked sarcastically, knowing he would not get an answer. It was the question most important in his life. It answered the `why?' that he so needed to know, yet he would not play his game. He saw the door to his room open and a doctor enter. Josiah rose to stop him advancing.
"I can hear by your tone of voice you do not expect an answer to that question. Now if you had asked me nicely, perhaps I would have obliged you… But as it stands… it would not be professional of me to reveal my client would it? I might never work in this town again." Newton chuckled once more, he was loving this.
"You're a clown you red-haired freak." The laughter finally stopped and Chris continued, "… and you're going to pay for your crimes you sick fuck."
Wade Newton felt the rage of a lifetime of taunting surface and threaten to overtake his thinking. It took him much effort, but finally he pushed his rage aside long enough to speak. "Oh of that I have no doubt. Eventually we must all answer to someone…" his voice turned hard a moment. "But not in this lifetime." He reached out for a candy and toyed with it a moment in his fingers, studying the black, shiny surface reflecting the low light. The familiar taste on his tongue comforted him. "You want to know why I killed them don't you?"
Chris's throat worked again. He wanted to scream `Yes!' he wanted to beg to know, but instead he said nothing.
"Ah, so much pride… You are a noble man, Chris Larabee." Newton looked at the photos of the blonde agent scattered on his desk, printed from the data he had collected on the target years before. "I can see that in your face. Too noble, I think for some…" He paused over a photo of the ATF agent standing in the arms of a woman not his wife. "Some people cannot live their lives knowing that such integrity as yours is beyond their reach. It serves to remind them of what they are lacking in their world… They often tend to want to eliminate that presence from their lives."
Everything the man said was loaded, leading to – what? Chris tapped his head back against the rail behind him and regretted it instantly.
"What are you thinking, Mr Larabee? Who did you affect so greatly that they wanted you dead? Hmmm… will you ever know?"
"Just tell me what the fuck you want from me."
Newton smiled once more, finally hearing the emotion in the Agent's voice. "If I were you, I would take it as a compliment. All that trouble in order to rid you from someone's life. It shows how much of an impact you made on them, don't you think? Is that not what life is about, Mr Larabee? Our lives, impacting on other lives?"
Chris was not about to get into a discussion with a deluded psychopath. "Why my family?" he said in a rough voice, he needed to know.
Newton raised a brow as he popped another candy in his mouth. "You were not home, I was bored."
Chris wanted to smash something, to jump up and scream until his lungs burnt from the pain, but this may be his only chance to ever hear the truth about what happened. Were they killed to assuage a madman's boredom? "Why didn't you finish the job then and kill me?" he said in a controlled voice.
"I guess my client decided that fate had produced an even better punishment to the one she had devised. An eternity of anguish, all of her doing."
She? Her doing? Chris forced his hand to relax its painfully tight grip on the phone. "You're insane. I'm not playing whatever fucked up game it is you're trying to start."
"Oh, I think you will. This is beyond the black and the white, Captain. This is a whole area of grey not found in any police manual or code of conduct. Your nobility will again serve you wrong. You never were one to take a loved one's suffering lightly, were you…"
The phone clicked audibly and Chris knew he was gone. He looked at Buck, "We have to get out of here, but we're staying in the city. Josiah, can you arrange the transport?"
"Chris..." Buck said, concerned for his friend.
Josiah stood, "I'll send the doctor in and alert the teams."
"We need to get everyone together on this and we have to find Vin, now!" Chris continued, fear for his missing friend threatening to paralyse him if he did not take action, fast.
"Chris," Buck said more urgently and Chris looked up at him, a plea in his eyes.
"Let me handle this my way, Buck... Right now, I need to be busy."
Buck studied the familiar face and nodded once. As always, he would let Chris deal with his pain, ever watchful if it should become too much for him to bear alone.
Josiah paused at the doorway as the phone rang again and Buck answered it once more, grumbling as he did so.
"I may as well become a fucking secretary," he scowled. "Wilmington," he said brusquely.
"When I see ya again, Bucklin, I'm gonna shove my boot so far up yer hairy ass yer gonna need a –"
"Whoa now Junior," Buck chuckled with pure relief to hear the familiar drawl through the phone, even if it was a threatening one. The sound of Vin's voice was the first good news they'd had all afternoon.
Chris closed his eyes in thanks as he waited to hear where Vin had been, feeling Josiah's warm squeeze on his shoulder. The large man had understood how worried he'd been over Vin's whereabouts. They all knew the two men were closer than brothers.
"Whoa my ass, I'm stuck out here, ten minutes drive from the fuckin' hospital, on the side of the fuckin' interchange because of yer run down piece of shit, instead of bein' back at the office where I belong, lookin' fer that sack `a shit –"
Buck held the phone away from his ear as the Texan rambled on and Chris took it from his hand, putting it to his ear and catching the tail end of Vin's colourful rant. For the first time that afternoon, a real smile graced his lips.
"Now if I were a religious man, Tanner, I might just take exception to that."
Vin's breath caught as he heard Chris's voice in his ear. "Wilmington's a dead man," he muttered.
Chris laughed, supporting his ribs with one hand, it was so good to hear Vin was alright. "I don't doubt it, where the hell are you?"
Vin sighed as he got back in the car and closed the door so that he could hear better without the noise of the traffic. "Buck's car's gone an' died on me, got a split radiator hose and there isn't a drop a' oil in the fuckin' thing – thought only women didn't check the oil in their cars…"
"Where was your phone? We were trying to call you."
Vin heard something in Chris's voice then. "Why, what happened? And while yer tellin' me, send that useless, moustache-totin' bitch out ta help me get this bucket a' shit back on the road, he knows where I am."
Chris chuckled again at Vin's description and nodded to Buck, "Go help Vin out, we'll call you when we know where we're going, you can meet us there."
Buck took the keys Josiah offered him and grumbled out the door, the ex-preacher following right behind him. "Weren't my fault, the way that damn Texan drives he prob'ly had it up on two wheels the whole way `til he blew it up." He stopped at the door, "You tell that crazy bastard if he's damaged my Betsy –"
"Buck," Chris said.
"Tell him its time to put the old girl down, Chris," Vin said, hearing Buck's parting words.
Chris ignored him and watched the door close, leaving him in peace finally. "I want this guy, Vin, more than I've wanted anything before."
Vin heard the anger clear across the distance. "What's happened, Chris?"
"He's the one… he killed Sarah and Adam, that fucking…" Chris fought to find a strong enough word to describe the man that had become the embodiment of evil to him and found he could not. "… He's the man that killed my family."
Vin leant his head back on the seat rest, his own plight completely forgotten.
"Everything I've ever said to you about not getting personally involved doesn't apply here, Vin… This isn't about the job, one way or another, I'm going to kill this sonofabitch."
"You're sure it's him?" Vin asked.
"He just told me so himself."
Blue eyes glinted dangerously. "Then we're gonna kill that sonofabitch," he agreed.
..
JD waited until he was admitted to the IT security room and immediately spotted Ezra as he walked in. The Southerner had hardly moved, he was going through file after file on cases linked to the Ginger Man while he made sure the tech boys earned their keep and continued to search for the hackers location.
"Hey Ez, any luck?" he said, standing beside him.
Ezra finished reading the sentence he was on and looked up at JD, blinking a moment before a wide grin split his face. He had been staring at the screen for a long time, not moving anything bar his hand on the mouse and stopping to jot down notes every so often. Luck? Hardly. Perhaps talent was the better word. Suddenly he slapped his hands on the desk.
"There is no such thing as luck, my dear Mr Dunne, I believe the word you were looking for is *skill*." He pushed his chair back and began to gather his things.
JD rolled his eyes, "Yeah, whatever, did you find anything?" He watched the southerner get up and collect his notes, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair. Ezra did so love a good puzzle, but he also liked to know where the pieces went in advance. JD assumed he had just put a few together.
"We need to have an enlightening chat with the Chicago team, particularly with Agent Tucker, have they returned to the building yet?"
"They just came in, they're upstairs. I just filled them in on the situation. Have you heard from Chris?"
"Excellent! And yes, I have only just ceased a most enlightening conversation with our Captain. We had a somewhat lengthy discussion on the standard procedure of report submission."
JD frowned, scratching his head literally, "Greaaat…"
Ezra slapped JD on the back, further alerting the younger agent that the southerner was most definitely on to something. "Indeed it was, Mr Dunne, indeed it was. I do believe this case is about to be blown wide open." He stopped a moment and lowered his voice, actually grinning at JD so great was his enthusiasm. "If my evidence is correct, we may be about to expose a recreant in our midst."
JD stared blankly back at the expectant Ezra who squeezed the younger man's arms to emphasise the import of his statement. "A traitor, a Judas," he scowled, "…a mole?"
"Alright alright I got it!" JD shrugged out of Ezra's grip and started to walk ahead to the door. "Sometimes you're just plain scary, Ezra."
Ezra grinned, "Oh but so very brilliant my young friend! Let us not forget *brilliant*!" he finished with a flourish. He stopped to address the men working in front of the largest bank of screens on the front wall of the room. "I shall be back down shortly, gentlemen." He told them, fully aware of the names they would soon be calling him as soon as the door was closed, if not before - and caring not at all. If those young geeks had their way, they would be home with pizza and porn by now, he was sure of it. The overtime was something none of the disrespectful, highly paid, thinly veiled hackers needed, nor was the challenge. Not when they were paid enough to buy their own shares in Clearasil, legally.
He met JD at the elevator outside.
"You know, I did read earlier today, a theory on the internet that the guy we're after has help inside the government."
Ezra smiled, "Come now Mr Dunne, are you suggesting that there may be some truth to world wide gossip? That the mere," he waved an arm broadly to encompass the world internet population, "'public enthusiasts' could know more than the world's most highly trained, not to mention paid, government agents? Who would put stock in such a notion?"
JD grinned and eyed the door to the room they had just left, where panels of data lined the benches, each one manned by a person paid by the government to monitor the world's communication via the internet. `The worlds most highly trained government agents' was the unspoken answer. He thought on what Ezra had said for a moment and then looked back at him sharply. "If there is any truth at all in that rumour, Tucker knows everything that's going on. That could be how he found out where Chris was so fast."
Ezra nodded, "Then I suggest we investigate this rumour post haste." He grabbed his coat and straightened his tie as they made to leave.
"Josiah just called, Vin's broken down with Buck's car."
"Yes, so Mr Larabee has just informed me. Why on earth Mr Tanner would willingly take that vehicle anywhere is beyond my comprehension," he said, entering the elevator. A thought struck him then and he stopped JD. "Mr Dunne, did you by chance happen to mention Mr Tanner's misfortune to the Agent's upstairs?"
JD paused, his eyes widening as he looked at Ezra.
..
Buck was not far from the hospital when he heard a siren behind him and cursed. Dammit, now someone was trying to give him a speeding ticket on top of everything else. He prepared to get himself off the hook, reaching for his badge as an officer approached him. His hands froze as he saw the young man already had his firearm drawn and pointed at him.
"Please place your hands on the wheel, sir."
Buck stared at the man in disbelief. What the hell was going on?
..
Newton smiled. Things were going along wonderfully. For once in his life he was not trying to plan everything out to the letter, but was allowing for change and happen stance – and it was proving a grand adventure, everything simply falling into his lap. He had thought to simply take out Larabee where he lay in his hospital bed, but this would be much more fun. After speaking with him, he had decided that killing him outright was not enough. He wanted to have a little more fun.
He saw the hazard lights of the broken down vehicle up ahead and smiled again. Here was his insurance policy, his ticket to Larabee's cooperation. From everything he had discovered, the Captain's next of kin was closer than family to him… Seeing as how he had already killed Larabee's real family, he could not really ask for a better target.
..
Vin had had no choice but to wait for Buck, the nearest gas station was miles away and it would be quicker to have Buck take him there for another hose and some oil. He only hoped that the motor would be ok once it cooled down enough to drive. He'd searched through the cherished collection of Wilmington tapes, Buck never having seen the point of installing a CD player, to JD's disgust, but had quickly discovered that his friend's poor taste extended to his music as well.
It was growing darker by the minute, the headlights of passing cars seeming to grow brighter the longer he waited. As he switched radio stations for around the seventh time, he noticed a car finally pulling in behind him and sighed with relief, preparing to vent his built up frustration on Buck the minute he faced him. Having been too long sitting idle, he exited the car and turned to berate Buck, holding up a hand to ward off the visual assault from the blinding headlights.
"Ya wanna dim those things or ya tryin' ta blind me on top of everythin' else?" he yelled out.
There was no fast comeback and it was at that second that Vin felt a sense of foreboding and reached for his gun. His hand had just reached the holster when he felt a sharp stab to his chest and looked down to see a small dart sticking out. He managed to clear his gun from its leather case and raised it towards his attacker, not able to see anyone beyond the light, not sure where the threat was standing as much too quickly, the light began to blur before his eyes. He was incapable of a last thought as his knees buckled and he began a rapid journey to the ground.
