Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
The gas explosion in Brax' mansion turned out to be of gigantic proportions. It blew a hole in the ground the size of a small volcanic crater. Seismographic stations in the neighboring states registered it. Window panes in a five mile radius shattered into pieces. It was really a good thing Brax had no direct neighbors. Boy, had the assassin done a thorough job of wiping the house off the face of the earth.
It would have served as a fitting monument for her impressive skills and callousness. She would have gone with a bang - in the very literal sense.
If she had managed to destroy more than the house, that is.
An anonymous caller had informed Brax and the authorities about the manipulated fireplace and they were able to evacuate the building and the vicinity just in time to prevent any loss of life. Experts from the fire brigade tried to stop the gas' accumulation in the mansion's pipes, but in the course of attempting to vacuum it off accidentally sparks were produced –
KABOOM.
Unfortunately B. Brax must have taken the loss of his home deeply to heart. He suffered a stroke right at the explosion site, although he was already in the care of two EMTs who had been called just in case. They gave him all the necessary injections, tried CPR... but couldn't do anything for him - he was beyond rescue, dead on arrival at the hospital. Well, strokes can happen anytime, even to people who seem completely healthy and only had their doctor's annual checkup last week.
G. Brax had two different top private medical examiners perform autopsies on his brother's corpse. They both came to the conclusion that the stroke had been spontaneous, unforeseeable and definitely due to natural causes, no sign whatsoever of outside interference except for the injections the EMTs had given their patient.
Of course they both didn't mention the fact that someone had abducted their elderly parents (doctor number one)/their wife (doctor number two); in consequence the kidnappers kept their word and returned the hostages once the reports stating natural causes had been handed over to Brax.
With their insistence on the unpredictability of strokes they tried to save their colleague's, Brax' personal doctor's, life.
Of course Brax killed him nevertheless, just as a matter of principle.
... ... ...
"So you're going back to your attempt at a civil life? She must be quite the capable companion...", Joubert mumbled as he gave Baptiste a lift to the airport.
Baptiste took his time to reply. In a way he relished the moment. The Old Man was asking him to stay. To continue working with him. More than half his life he had wanted this, desperately. He had yearned for the Old Man's respect and affection. And now he was getting it. After all those years.
Too late. Now there was Greta.
"She's worth it", he finally said. They had already reached the airport's parking lot.
Joubert nodded.
For a moment Baptiste could feel his determination to fly back to Greta slide. If the Old Man said something more now, added anything, reminded him of some event in their past...
But Joubert had never been one to beg. He waved a brief good-bye in silence, just the curt lifting of his right hand, then he drove off, leaving Baptiste behind to check in alone.
... ... ...
Ash knew his father disapproved of him meeting his grandfather anywhere outside the office or alone, without anyone else present.
Well, Ash decided, he was not a child anymore, he could meet his grandfather wherever and whenever he wanted. Granted, he'd probably not exactly tell his father about this meeting - when push came to shove then yes, he was willing to face him and put his foot down, but there was no need to stir trouble without necessity.
So he was meeting his grandfather now. At his grandfather's office, which he had never visited before. Without his father's or anyone else's permission (Ames SO had no say in his whereabouts!)…
Ash felt rebellious as he entered the unobtrusive building and walked up the narrow staircase. Just like the warehouse, this place, too, didn't look as if anyone was operating a business from there. It looked rundown, in need of repair and, most importantly, totally plain. Ash's practiced eye, however, noticed the well-hidden state of the art security system, the bulletproof windows, the concealed trapdoors which led to escape routes or weapons…
When his grandfather opened the door to his actual office space, Ash was not surprised to find finely furnished rooms, wooden panels on the walls, thick carpets, antique desks, chairs, tables, dimmed lights… all in all he was welcomed by the atmosphere of an old English university library.
Joubert nodded at the boy to take a seat at the smoker's table in his study and produced two crystal tumblers. Ash tried to hide it, but his eyes grew large as the Old Man first poured himself a drink and then, although a smaller amount, one for Ash.
"What, don't tell me you never tried alcohol before", Joubert said.
"Here and there", Ash shrugged, "but…"
"But you were never offered some by your dad", the Old Man finished the sentence. The look on the boy's face told him he was right on the money.
Of course. Trust Junior to keep his boy on a short leash.
"That's Scotch, 15 years old, the good stuff your father drinks. You're growing up fast, you got yourself a girl, a sip or two won't kill you", Joubert said, seemingly casually, but in fact watching the boy's every move. He could see he liked what he was told.
Proud smile tugging at the corners of his lips at the mentioning of Helen, Ash took the glass and downed a bit of the liquid – whoa, that stuff was a million light years different from what he had tried with his ice hockey buddies… it seemed to burn his insides, but on the other hand… Ash straightened himself a little in the expensive leather chair… he could deal with it.
"You've really grown a lot", Joubert slowly continued. "Almost a man… What doesn't kill us makes us stronger, you know…"
Ash knew exactly what his grandfather was referring to and turned his head away. He was so not in the mood to talk about his mom.
"She was a good woman", Joubert said.
There we go, Ash thought, stifling a sigh.
"The people who killed her just like that… shot her like a rabid dog… they'd deserve someone did the same to them, don't you think?"
Ash put his tumbler down and stared at his grandfather in utter shock. It was as if he had read his mind!
"Revenge is good, Ash. Nothing feels better than getting back at the people who dared messing with you. It heals you. Makes you whole again."
Ash looked at the old man in front of him with utter wonder. No one, especially no adult and certainly not his dad, had ever talked to him like that. For the first time ever since his mom had died it felt like somebody understood him.
He reached for the tumbler and downed the rest of the Scotch.