Chapter Thirteen: Tumbling Down
Killian waits patiently for the first five minutes that Emma is gone, but as seven, and then eight minutes pass, he grows anxious, pacing right outside the women's room door; even if it will make Emma crazy when she re-emerges. His Swan is not an overly looks-focused woman, and she had said she just needed a moment. He knows she was anxious to get back to Henry now that they had been apart for a bit. He could not blame her, after all they have weathered, for wanting to keep a check on the lad. By the time ten minutes tick by, his senses are going crazy. Something has happened. He had only turned away from the door for a few moments, when he thought he heard Henry calling to him; surely no one could have taken Emma in that sliver of time. Yet, heart pounding, inner alarms blaring, Killian cannot force himself to wait any longer.
Bursting into the women's restroom, thankfully deserted of other patrons, his muscles go weak for a moment, shock and fear coursing through him at near-debilitating levels. Strewn across the floor haphazardly are the contents of Emma's abandoned purse. He knows it is hers, both because he recognizes the brown leather bag he has felt bumping against his hip all the time he and Emma were walking closely hand-in-hand, and because Henry's beloved storybook is sticking out of it. Falling to his knees, Killian scoops everything he sees nearby back into the purse, clutching it in a death grip and floundering back outside, nearly unhinged with worry for his charge, what may already be happening to her, and palpable rage at those who have taken her, as well as at himself for enjoying a bit of fleeting happiness and dropping his guard. He had sworn to protect her, and she has been taken from right under his nose! Instinct and training kick in despite his distraught state, and he is already calling David Nolan to report and receive instructions.
David snaps into brisk, capable team leader mode immediately, telling Killian to meet up with Ruby and Henry as planned, see that the boy is still secure, then get to local PD headquarters as soon as possible. David will put all the necessary alerts and searches in place as soon as he and his agent sign off, but it does not feel like enough to Killian, whose heart is beating so hard it sounds like deafening drumbeats in his ears. He wants to fly after whomever has taken this woman he has come to care for so intensely and wreck horrible vengeance on them once he catches up. He is not naïve enough to think this is the work of anyone but Gold and his cronies, the ones who have already taken more than any one man should have to part with from him. They cannot have Emma Swan as well.
He grinds his teeth, mentally girding for a fight, when David's voice breaks through the furious haze in his mind. "And Killian?" the other man orders sternly. "Follow protocol. Do you hear me? Don't go off and do anything stupid."
"Aye, Mate, I hear you," Killian affirms before signing off, but he knows that if he had any sort of heading or sign of which way Emma has been taken, he would be following it that instant, no matter how ill-fated or stupid it might be.
His eyes constantly scan the crowd with sharp precision, looking for any clue, any hint, even as he moves toward the designated meeting spot and takes out his cell to call Ruby. The crowd and the carnival grounds are just as merry and light as they had been minutes ago, but to him, everything has been altered. He hopes against hope for Emma's brilliant, smiling face and her gorgeously sparkling green eyes to appear before him from the sea of strangers' faces. He prays that she is still whole and unharmed, that somehow she just slipped away from him and will reappear, happy and laughing as she was just a short time ago. But he knows Emma would never play such a joke on him; after the very real danger she and Henry have been in, she would not find such a thing funny. Short of the last five minutes being some surreal nightmare, Killian Jones knows better than to deny the horrible truth. It will do none of them any good.
No, Emma is gone. He could not have failed her more horribly if he'd tried. His shoulders slump with the horrible weight of guilt he heaps on himself as he nears their rendezvous point and realizes he will have to tell Henry that he has lost his mother. Just thinking about the little boy, and the pain and fear it will cause the lad, makes Killian's mouth go dry and all possible words leave him. The blood drains from his face even more completely than it had already.
Deciding that he cannot delay the inevitable, Killian prepares to dial Ruby, only to be interrupted by an incoming call. Immediate relief and anxiety flood him anew, hoping against hope that it might somehow be Emma, even though he knows that he holds her broken phone himself. He answers in a flash, speaking abruptly into the device. "This is Jones."
A low, ominous cackle meets his ears. "Ah, Agent Jones, at last we speak. I believe you've wanted to find me for some time, and I now I'm afraid I have something of yours. She can't speak to you right now, however. Sorry, Dearie." The eerie, mocking laughter that rings through the speaker grates frightfully against Killian's ears. He knows this has to be Gold, but to think that she is actually in the fiend's clutches does not grow less horrifying with time. A chill of foreboding runs down his spine, which he tries to ignore, and blinding anger rises once again in its place. Without doubt, he is speaking to Robert Gold himself – the crime lord responsible for nearly all of his life's misery.
Killian's eyes narrow and his fists clench, his words nearly a hiss as he forces them out past a narrowing throat. "This is no game. What have you done with her, you bastard?!"
The taunting, sing-song cadence of the man's voice changes abruptly, and Killian hears the deadly menace in his next words, spoken with the silky purr of a lion stalking his prey. Though he refuses to grant this monster even a grudging respect, it is easily clear how he has amassed an empire and has countless underlings and foot soldiers to do his bidding. "You listen to me, Agent Jones. Neither ire nor threats will do yourself or the lovely Miss Swan any good. It would have been child's play for me to finish her off already. But she is quite beautiful. One hates to sully such a gem prematurely…" The insidiousness of his veiled threat plays across Killian's mind effectively, as Gold obviously knows and pauses to allow. "Besides that, you and I have some long unfinished business. Come to the warehouse two streets past the midway in fifteen minutes. Alone. Alert no one where you are going. Disobey, and you will not like the state in which you will find the lovely Emma."
Killian blows out a frustrated breath, knowing this is beyond reckless, stupid, and a drastic mistake, and yet he cannot do anything else. He cannot risk more harm coming to Emma than might have already. He agrees heavily, his voice equally rough and determined. "You have me, Gold. You knew I would come, even before you made the call. You just need her not to testify; you don't need to hurt her. We may be forced to play by your rules for the moment, but mark my words, I will find a way to hold you accountable."
"I would so like to see you try, Agent," the malevolent voice taunts once more. "You have only been attempting it for what, fifteen years now? Be where I told you at the appointed time, or you will not see her again." One last gloating cackle is heard, and then the line goes dead in Killian's ear.
He doesn't know how Gold got his number, how he managed to follow them to Kansas, or how it was possible to take Emma from a crowded public place in a matter of moments, but none of that matters now. He knows the designated spot well, passed it on the way here even, and it will not take long to reach. Backtracking quickly before either Ruby or Henry arrive and see him, Killian steps forward to lean Emma's purse against a pillar of the gazebo where he was supposed to meet her son and his partner. Afraid that the criminals may already have some sort of surveillance on his phone, he does not dare place an actual call to his partner. He wants Ruby and Henry out of the way and guarded; it would truly break Emma to have her little boy captured and used against her as leverage. However, he is not willing to give up without leaving the woman who has been unfailingly loyal to him and had his back for more than five years some sort of clue. Carefully placing the bag so that Henry's book is clearly visible peeking from the top, he finds a pen and slip of paper within the purse and scrawls one word, 'SIDEWAYS' upon it. He and Ruby agreed a long time ago on this as their distress signal that things have fallen apart. He knows the young woman will understand and proceed quickly from there. Sticking the note on top with the book, he leaves hastily, hoping that they will find his warning.
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Ruby Lucas has felt her hackles rising with some sort of unidentified foreboding for the last half hour. She and Henry are just a bit late getting back to their rendezvous with Emma and Killian, but that is no reason for the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end, or for the unease she feels all the way down to her bones. Upon reaching the little gazebo on the north end of the fairgrounds, however, Agent Lucas is horribly certain that the feeling in her gut has been right all along. Killian isn't here, and the man is never late. Turning in a slow circle to scan the surroundings and passerby, she at first sees no sign at all of her partner and Henry's mother, then her eyes catch on a familiar-looking bundle pushed under the bench seats along the side of the enclosure.
Holding Henry's hand tightly, already sensing she needs to keep him closer than ever, Ruby darts forward, finding that her suspicions are correct when she sees the purse Emma was carrying. Henry makes a little cry of recognition at his Snow White book sticking out and reaches for it, banishing any lingering doubts she might have wished to hold onto. Ruby gives the book to the boy without hesitation, sinking to the wooden seat weakly when she sees the sheet of paper sticking out with Killian's blocky scrawl on it. She knows what will be written on the message before the words even meet her troubled eyes.
'SIDEWAYS' – the code she and Jones agreed on long ago, though neither of them has ever used it until now. The shorthand warning of danger immediately puts Ruby on high alert. A thousand questions run through her mind. 'Are one of both of them hurt? Missing? Are they being recalled from the case? What is she supposed to do?' But in the next moment, she squares her shoulders and steels her resolve. While the rest may trouble her, she knows the answer to that last question if nothing else. The other meaning to their agreed upon code is that whatever has happened is too dangerous for the other to dive in after, and for them to wait for backup. Even as she is thinking it, the sunny, carefree setting is shattered by lights, sirens, a voice calling out over a bullhorn, and uniformed police swarming the area. Most people of the nearby people are held back from the ruckus for safety, but several officers come up the steps to Ruby and Henry and usher them to come along. Ruby acknowledges their instructions, and they follow their new guides without hesitation, but she cannot help wondering what has happened, where her partner is, and how she could, or should, be helping right now.
"Has anyone heard from Agent Jones?" she asks as they are whisked to a squad car ready to take them back to the station.
"I'm sorry Agent," the female officer nearest them offers, real sympathy in her tone. "We don't have any details. I'm supposed to get you and the boy back to squad while this area is secured. I do know your supervisor has already notified us and will be put through to speak to you on a secure line as soon as we arrive."
Ruby nods her thanks and slides into the backseat next to Henry. As they speed off, Ruby looks down at Henry, worried by his silence. The boy looks back at her, eyes welling and lower lip trembling, "Something happened to my mom, didn't it?" he whispers. Ruby can only wrap her arm around him and pull him in close to her body, rocking gently and trying to soothe him what little she can.
"Something has happened, Buddy," she whispers into his brown hair, still soft and baby fine. "But we'll find her. Everything's gonna be alright."
He doesn't say anything more, just sniffles and buries his face in her shirt, hiding from the world rushing by on all sides. Ruby closes her eyes for a moment, sending up a fervent prayer that the words of comfort she has just given Henry will prove to be true.
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When Killian steps into the darkness of the warehouse, he doesn't see anything or anyone unusual at first. Pacing further in and glancing from side to side, his eyes start to adjust to the dim light, but the place is still distressingly deserted. Only when a metallic grinding sound echoes where a door is opened at the far end of the building and a beam of light slants in before the door slams once more, is Killian relieved to know that they have shown up and he has not lost Emma yet.
His relief is short-lived. As his foe and two thugs move closer, Killian can see more clearly, and he realizes that Gold's two subordinates support a third person between them, someone who is not moving and whose feet drag lifelessly along the dust-covered floor. The glint of bright golden hair makes certainty settle into his gut, even though he cannot see her face for the fall of bright hair and the way her head lolls forward unconsciously. The warring gratitude at seeing her in one piece battles with his concern over the reason for her being so still.
Gold steps forward from the concealing shadows, a cruel grin allowing an eyetooth capped the same color as his name to glint in the dark. "Don't worry, Agent. She is unharmed. A simple dose of sedative made her quite…malleable. Miss Swan isn't in any pain – yet. She didn't even have time to be afraid."
Killian can feel the muscle in his jaw tick with stress at not lunging forward to grasp the man by the throat. Growling out words that are low, threatening, but manage to sound much more in control than he really is, Killian replies, "Let her go, Gold. Your vendetta is with the FBI, and with me. You don't need to hurt her."
Even as he speaks, Killian knows this reasoning will do no good. Gold is ruthless, and he is smart. The merciless crook in him cannot allow a witness to any of the crimes committed by him or in his name to breathe. If any loose ends are left, he will eventually be tripped and caught. But the very thought of this filthy monster even touching Emma, harming a single hair on her head, sends a wave of panic through Killian's system that overwhelms all sense. The need to stop this man who has stolen everyone else he ever loved from taking the life of his Swan as well overrides everything else, no matter how fruitless his efforts may prove.
The small, sharp suited man before him gives Killian a gleaming smile, just barely showing his teeth and giving the hardened FBI agent a more sinister frisson of foreboding than any evil foes he has faced before. "Oh, I think you know better than that, Dearie," Gold says to him, his voice almost gleeful at the power and control he wields. "Miss Swan has the definite ability to do myself and my associates serious harm. Which means she must be silenced, even eliminated, if need be. You would do anything to safeguard her, that much is painfully clear. I think, for the time being at least, that means you are coming with us."
Killian lunges forward, ready to fight. It would not, in truth, be difficult to do serious injury to the small man before him, who uses a cane to walk, if he just makes it to Gold. Unfortunately, he realizes too late that his intense focus on this viper before him and his overwhelming concern for Emma have kept him from noticing more of Gold's henchmen circling behind him undetected. At the sudden movement, Gold snaps his fingers and a hood comes down over Jones's head, bringing nothing but blackness before his eyes. Rough hands grip his arms, holding him back. He struggles mightily, wild and thrashing, but only for a moment; then something strikes him hard in the back of the head. He slumps forward, limp and boneless as he loses awareness and everything else disappears.