Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.

Of course Chance wanted to free his son himself. For heaven's sake, this was not the first time he and his crew were faced with a hostage situation. But he did see that the jet maybe wouldn't make it back to San Francisco in time. Yes, to be on the safe side it was better to have a team of experienced specialists on the spot that could interfere, should things get hairy prior to their arrival.

So he had agreed to Ilsa's suggestion of calling an anti-terrorist unit to the city.

Unfortunately thanks to all the red tape the mayor had tried to put up, that initial situation had significantly changed in the meantime. By now it was clear that they and the special unit would arrive at the bank roughly around the same time.

"They won't let you tag along, bro", Guerrero calmly told Chance. "It's invitation only. They won't let any civilian meddle in their affairs."

"I won't sit around twiddling my thumbs while my son is in the middle of the storming of a bank!", Chance snarled at him. Ames put a hand on his knee. He brushed it away and started pacing again.

"The whole area is blocked off. With the forged badges Guerrero's guy has waiting for us at the airport we'll get past the controls, but with regular SFPD, SFPD's SWAT team and Ilsa's special unit around, there's nothing we can do on our own", Winston pointed out. He knew Chance hated being sidelined like this, but these were the facts.

"And maybe it wouldn't be a good idea anyway", Ames dared to add. "You helping to storm the bank would be like allowing a doctor to perform surgery on a relative."

"Are you saying I couldn't rescue my own son?" Chance was practically yelling at her.

Now, as much as Ames could sympathize with Chance, hell, she was worried to death herself, she would not let him yell at her for no reason, especially not when all of their wellbeing was at stake. If anything happened to Ash or Chance, it wouldn't leave any of them unscathed. "What I'm saying, Chance, is that you can't think straight right now!", she yelled back.

"Personal investment influences the judgment, dude. Remember the disaster with Maria?", Guerrero chimed in, still very calm. "These guys from the special unit are the best and they've got clearance from the authorities. We can't lose time and risk causing confusion by forcing our way in. Would have been different if we had been present from the beginning. Now it's too late. Let them do their job."

The pilot signaled for them to put their seatbelts on. They'd touch down in less than five minutes.

Chance angrily sat down and strapped himself in. Deep down he knew they were right. Nevertheless it felt like someone had put him in chains.

… … …

"So my people in the bank didn't find a thing in the vault's lockers… the predictable stuff of course, jewels, money, all sorts of documents, even a suitcase full of cocaine and a couple of very interesting discs with video footage that might bring in a couple of extra bucks", B. Brax said thoughtfully.

"But nothing, nothing at all that would explain why Ilsa Pucci is bribing everyone in sight, Victor Joubert and Guerrero are wreaking havoc on every snitching and non-snitching thug in the Bay area and Christopher Chance is calling in favors left and right. They're setting the city on fire. And now you, asking for a personal meeting…" He turned around to face his visitor.

"Care to let me know what this is about?"

Innokentij of course didn't reply. Face unreadable he stood in the middle of the room, still like a statue. His whole body however, the firmly set jaw, the squared shoulders, the way he was standing with his legs apart, spoke of immense violence only momentarily tamed by his iron will. Brax studied him with barely veiled amusement.

Then suddenly something seemed to dawn on him and his smile grew in sardonic triumph.

"It's not "what" they want to protect so badly, it's "who", isn't it?" Brax took his cell phone and speed dialed his man in the bank. "Tell me, Walter, is there anybody who stood out? Anyone who somehow caught your attention?", he asked, still all smiles.

Walter, the raccoon man, took his time to answer. Frowning under his mask his let his gaze wander slowly about the room, resting it on one hostage after another. "There was a woman, heavily armed", he finally said. "But she didn't cause any trouble. Her son misbehaved a little, but she reined him in. No problem."

"Her son?" Brax raised his eyebrows, slightly tilted his head and looked at Innokentij. "Tell me more about him."

"About fifteen. Looks like he's into sports… surprisingly calm, now that you mention it. Pointed a gun at him and he didn't freak. Looked me straight in the eye; then he suddenly began to shake, like one would suspect, but in hindsight, I'm wondering if it was an act... Could be he was trying to fool me into underestimating him."

Brax returned his attention to Innokentij. "So it's really true, isn't it? You found yourself your golden boy, the ultimate soldier that will help you expand your organization."

"Just tell me what you want", Innokentij snarled.

Brax grinned at him with mischievously glittering eyes. "Twenty-five million dollars in cash."

"You'll have it by six."

Brax broke out into roaring laughter. "The mighty Innokentij, allowing himself to be blackmailed…? You don't really think I'd leave such a deadly weapon in your hands, do you?"

"You know who I am, Brax. And you know what I'm capable of. Touch him and you'll regret it."

Still laughing, Brax contacted Walter in the bank again. "Time to leave. Open the tunnel. But one thing first… the boy you told me about…."

"Yes?" Walter signaled his colleagues to get ready for their grand escape.

"Shoot him."

… … …

"We've got an audio feed from the bank!", Guerrero yelled, clinging to his notebook as Chance raced towards the bank at high speed. "I've activated one of the phones so that it works like a bug."

Thanks to Ilsa's and his own special connections they were expected and their car was let past the gates without having to stop for ID checking. Ilsa and Ames were following in a second car. The latest news from the special unit was that they were getting ready to storm.

"I don't hear anything!", Chance yelled back.

"That's because nobody's saying anything!" Guerrero readjusted some of the parameters but still all he got was silence, only vaguely disturbed by…

"Sounds like footsteps", Winston said. "Several people walking around in combat boots. They seem to be getting busy."

Chance brought the car to a screeching halt right by the police cars parked in front of the bank's entrance and threw the door open, ready to jump out.

Just then two new sounds came from the bank. He heard them simultaneously through Guerrero's laptop and the closed door of the building.

A scream.

And a shot.