Here's another chapter to make up for not posting yesterday:
She was just about to collect her belongings and return to the hospital when Frank knocked on the door of Horatio's office, "This a good time?" he asked as he poked his head in to the room.
She gave him a tired smile, "Only if you've got some information for me." She waved him in with her hand and invited him to sit.
Sitting down, Frank pulled his notepad from his suit jacket and began, "I got some information on the guy you asked me to look in to," he gave her a quick glance before continuing, "My contacts say this Collins guy spent most of his career working in Organised Crime units up and down the country. He spent three years in New York between '93 and '96 so that's a match up with Horatio's past."
"Have you got any idea where he is now?" she was eager for answers.
"Last known field office was in Jacksonville, according to records he transferred there in 2010," he gave her a tight smile, "That's all I've got, sorry."
"You've given me a lot to work with, Frank. I feel like we're finally getting somewhere, the sooner we can talk to Agent Collins the sooner we'll know what we're up against."
Frank gave a quick nod before exiting the room, leaving Calleigh to ponder over the new information.
Sitting once more in his motel room Andy felt emotionally exhausted. Over the years he had managed to come to terms with the loss of his partner and his betrayal. What hurt the most was that John had almost become like a son to him, filling the void his own son had left when his alcoholism had taken control of his life. Guiding a young rookie detective like John almost made him feel as if he could atone for the things he had done, giving back something good to make up for the hurt he had caused his own family. He liked to think that John thought of him as the father he never had, God knows the kid stuck by him more than most of partners would have. John has carried him for a long time as he lost his grip on life and was consumed with his need to drink, even when he had been shot the guy had braved the hospital to come and visit him even though he knew the younger man hated them.
He hated what John had become but he silently hated himself more for not seeing what was going on right in front of him. He had been too consumed with his own life, trying to reconnect with his wayward son and embarking on a relationship with Sylvia. "If I'd just paid more attention to what was going one with him, I could have stopped it." For months after John's attack he had seen subtle changes in the man's behaviour, "I'll ask him about it tomorrow." he would tell himself. They had run out of tomorrows, it was too late to save his friend from the hand fate had dealt him.
He honestly thought John would have killed him when he cornered him in the warehouse; rumours had been flying round the precinct for years about the things his old partner had done in the name of loyalty to the Malucci's. The look on John's face was cold and calculating, as if he were devoid of any emotion. Those few short years had aged the young man considerably, looking haggard and unshaven he seemed more like a drug addict than the smart and composed detective he used to know him as. "Why didn't he pull the trigger?" he asked himself as he shrugged his jacket off and sat heavily on the bed. John had had him where he wanted him; all he had to do was squeeze the trigger. A part of Andy hoped that some small essence of the John Kelly he knew was still deep inside of the violent criminal he'd become.
As the years passed he began to think of him less, the loss of his eldest son and the birth of another had kept him occupied. Thoughts of John drifted to the back of his mind as life's daily routine took over. He had not even spared the time to go to his funeral, still too angry at him for the hurt and betrayal he had caused. It was a decision that Andy had regretted ever since, maybe it would have made the deep wounds he had suffered heal quicker. "Bury John along with the pain and move on." For once he wished he had listened to himself.
Word on the street was that the NYPD were raiding suspected drug dens in the Bronx area. John grimaced as Benny Malucci instructed him to take a group to the abandoned building on 56th Street to clear the place of drugs before the cops arrived.
Intel had told them that the raids were imminent; the building had almost been cleaned of product when he heard several patrol cars pull up. The blue and red flashing lights illuminated the room in a rhythmical fashion as they span. Daring to take a peek out of the window his heart sank as he saw the familiar face. "Thank God I'm the last one here." He told himself as he reached for his gun and checked the ammo; he knew that if the others were here it would most likely turn into a bloodbath with shots being fired back and forth across the building. "No, no one gets hurt." He promised himself, darting away from the window as he heard footsteps approaching the building.
He heard the voice of who he presumed was Andy's new partner; he felt a pang of jealousy go through him. Did Andy care as much for the new guy as he used to for him? "It should be me out there with him." He moved as silently as he could across the room as he heard voices approaching, his heart skipped a beat when he heard the familiar gruff tones of his old partner. Peering round a corner he saw the silhouette of the other man, he ducked his head back and pressed himself flat against the wall but it was already too late, he'd been seen.
"Freeze, NYPD!" his old partner yelled running across the room in pursuit. The older man was keeping up with him surprisingly well considering the differences in age and weight between them. He ran from room to room until he had got Andy where he wanted him. He stood at the end of the room by the broken window making sure his face was still covered by darkness, "Give it up, you've got nowhere to go." He heard him say. He darted his head back and forth from the window, trying to lull Andy into a false sense of security.
"You don't want to do that," his partner called out as he raised his gun higher, "Come out with your hands up and we can talk about this." He hung his head in mock defeat waiting for the right moment to pounce, as if on cue Andy lowered his gun slightly. The slight lapse in concentration was all he needed; he darted from the shadows and threw himself at the other man, knocking him to the ground, the gun falling from Andy's hand as he landed.
He stood over him, only now showing his face. He felt his heart break a little further as he raised his gun and aimed it at the man he considered a father to him. He had done things, bad things but there were some lines even he wouldn't cross. He had sworn to keep them safe, it was the only reason he had carried on with the façade for so long. Seeing Andy closing his eyes and waiting for the kill shot sent a physical pain through him, had he been so successful in convincing them he was a dirty cop? If he had he hated himself for it, "You're a dirty former cop," he told himself bitterly.
He lowered his gun, he couldn't do it. He could never do it. With one last quick glance at Andy he made his way silently to the window, climbing out and dropping to the ground six feet below. He winced as he landed awkwardly on his ankle, causing a sharp pain to shoot up his right leg. Engaging the safety and shoving his gun in the band of his jeans he limped quickly away and out of sight. Hating himself even further for the man he had become.
His eyes shot open, "Andy, no!" he shouted as looked rapidly round the room. Eric shot up and stood over him but he couldn't hear what the younger man was saying. He raised a hand and covered his eyes, hiding the pained expression on his face, "Oh, God. Andy, what have I done?"