Chapter 47 – Guns
Jane lay awake, his hands intertwined on top of his bare chest, and looked to the ceiling as Lisbon slept beside him. She wasn't having an altogether restful night's sleep either as every now and then her face would frown or she'd move to get comfortable. He'd stroked her hair until she settled again at his side with a sigh, instantly reminding him of doing the same to Charlotte when she'd had nightmares and had crept in beside him and Angela in the middle of the night. Tears pricked his eyes as his attention turned to the family he once had. He glanced at Lisbon again, the new family in his life now. Tomorrow - or today he reminded himself as he glanced at clock beside him that read 4.42 – might finally herald the point where he looked more ahead than behind for the first time in years. Where he could imagine a future and plan it with the woman beside him than dwell on the past. He'd made progress, certainly, and knew he wanted Teresa Lisbon at the forefront of any future he could have for a long time, even if he'd tried to deny that truth for a year. But they'd always had that Red cloud hanging over them and only allowed themselves to plan so far. Even now their future was fluid, but their actions in the next day or so would decide what came next for them. He'd promised her she wouldn't have to run and she'd made him promise he wouldn't go to prison. He closed his eyes and thought hard. Gradually an inkling of an idea came to mind. But, as ever with any plan, luck would have to play its part too.
"You can't sleep?" she asked sleepily at his side with a yawn, throwing a leg over his and snuggling closer.
He kissed the top of her head. "Just thinking, go back to sleep. It's still early."
She yawned again then moved to turn on the light beside her. "Can't sleep anymore either." She sighed and ran a hand down her face. "Well, I better make myself useful," she said as she got out of bed and looked for something to wear.
Jane smiled as he cracked an eye open and saw her shapely behind as she bent down to grab her blouse from the floor. "What are you going to do?"
Her blouse thrown on, she lifted her go bag and rifled through it to find her guns. His eyes widened. "Three guns, seriously, Lisbon?"
She shrugged. "Last thing you want to do is run out of bullets or have to reload your weapon if it turns into a firefight, Jane."
"What do you think the end of Red John is going to look like, woman?" he asked, shaking his head.
"I don't know but I'm taking no chances." She took out her gun cleaning equipment and brought it and the guns back to the bed. Jane looked at them disdainfully. She bit down on her bottom lip. "We probably should get you an unregistered weapon for...well-"
"I already have one. It's in my bag."
Now it was her turn to look surprised. "Where did you get that?"
He shrugged, "Probably better you don't know."
"And when were you going to tell me about it?"
Another shrug. "When the time was right."
"You mean when I brought the subject up?" she glared.
He beamed a smile at her. "Will you check it for me, make sure it's in working order?"
She rolled her eyes but acquiesced. Soon she was sitting on the bed rigorously cleaning every millimetre of the guns as Jane ordered an early breakfast for them. He looked at her, the line between her eyes as she focused, humming happily to herself as she went about one of her favourite past times. They both had their coping mechanisms for the day ahead. His would more than likely involve bouts of introspection coupled with copious tea drinking and hers included involving herself in more practical matters.
"Hand me your bullets, assuming you remembered to get some," she said with a smirk.
He passed a box to her and, as he turned his phone on, noticed her wiping them clean with a cloth before inserting them into the chamber.
"Clever," he supplied.
She shrugged, not looking at him but concentrating on what she was doing instead, "You have any idea of the number of people arrested who wiped the guns they used clean but forget about fingerprints on the casings? I mean, I know we don't know how it's going to go down yet but no point making it easy for people to identify you."
Finished, she handed the gun over and locked eyes with him. Quietly, "You should get a feel for it; make sure you're comfortable with using it."
He nodded and looked at the gun in his hand. He'd used a handgun on Carter so he was hardly an amateur at killing a man with one. "Thanks," he said. "You really okay with all this?" he asked seriously, still staring at the weapon.
She nodded. "It has to be done, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it does."
"Then I'm fine," she said, nodding to him with seriousness.
He placed the gun on the nightstand as she replaced her weapons in her bag. The sound of his phone alerting them to a voicemail caught their attention and he put it on loudspeaker as they listened to it. The unmistakable British accent of Bret Stiles came over the speaker.
"Well, Patrick, my boy. It appears you have friends in high places. Although I really should be congratulating Agent Lisbon as it was, no doubt, her influence that allowed you to make this particular play. So, bravo to both of you for forcing my hand. Let's meet again and see if we can come up with some amicable solution to this rather unseemly mess you've got me into. Call me back at your earliest convenience."
Lisbon cocked her head at Jane as he tapped a finger to his lips. "Well?" she asked when he said nothing straight away.
He tilted his head. "He's not sure if this is a bluff like Forster. Mashburn has no doubt made some ripples for him but he's unsure of the influence we hold over his actions. Stiles is uncertain how far he's willing to go. If he's merely making life difficult for him or if Walter is willing to put his money where his mouth is." He added with a smirk. "But he's unsettled, that's for sure. His tone was much too genial...almost bordering on amused. Means he's rattled and feels backed into a corner."
"I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing. When people feel backed into corners sometimes they come out fighting."
"It'll be fine," he told her. "There's an easier way out of this than killing us. Too many repercussions and he knows it would probably make Mashburn come at him harder if you were harmed, in particular, now he's done a little research of his own. Not to mention it would give the CBI and the FBI more evidence of his involvement with Red John, especially in light of Forster's recent statement." Jane laughed, "Harming us would actually make that false statement bear more weight, if anything. And hell, people would believe far more strongly he is Red John if he or one of his people killed me."
"God, I hope you're right."
He took a deep breath and squeezed her hand. Smiling, "I am. We have him, Lisbon. The only way out of this is for him is to tell us who Red John is. I'm sure of it."
She frowned at him slightly, "So, if all that's true and you don't believe we are or were in any danger from Visualize why did we have to spend the night here?"
He grinned and kissed her. "You didn't like the bed, the room service at two am?"
She rolled her eyes. In all her days she figured she'd never work out how his mind worked. He certainly always kept things interesting.
They sat on the same bench Jane had occupied from his last meeting with Stiles, having set up a meeting with him two hours before. Jane had placed his jacket at his side and lifted his head towards the sun. Lisbon shuffled nervously beside him, her eyes scanning all around them for possible snipers. He took her hand and squeezed it. "Relax, it's going to be fine," he said lazily, looking incredibly relaxed to almost anyone watching. But Lisbon noticed his other hand was flinching slightly as he played with his fingertips, denoting he wasn't as calm as he appeared. She supposed he needed to look that way in case any of Stiles' men were watching, and was required to appear to have the upper hand.
"What if he tells you the wrong name?" she asked him, that thought suddenly occurring to her.
"Hmm...you mean tell me the name of someone he wants killed and not Red John?"
"You've thought about that already?"
He turned towards her. "It's possible he might try something like that. He's a slippery customer, after all. Not exactly the trustworthy sort."
"So?"
He shrugged. "Well, I'm not just about to kill a man on his say-so. I'll need proof...evidence, if you like, that the name he gives me is Red John before I do anything. But I'm trusting Stiles knows me well enough by now to know I'm not stupid enough to fall for that trick and I'll see through it if he even makes an attempt at it."
"I wish he'd just told you over the phone so we could avoid this meeting entirely."
"No doubt he wants to try to make the same deal I offered him the other day that he turned down. And well, it's easier for me to read whether he's telling me the truth or not in person than over the phone."
"The deal was for you to find whatever Red John has on Stiles and give it to Stiles before you kill him?"
"Yep."
"You going to agree to that?"
Jane's eyes twinkled at her. "I'll tell him whatever he wants to hear to get Red John's name."
She smirked back. "But you don't intend to follow through on that agreement, obviously."
He shook his head. "He had his chance."
Lisbon's eyes squinted and her stomach tightened. "Here he comes," she nodded as she watched Stiles walk the path that ran around the lake they were sitting opposite. "Cho, be on the lookout for anything suspicious," she said, touching her earpiece.
Her second in command replied, "All set, boss. Looks clear so far."
Jane and Lisbon got to their feet when the Brit was about twenty feet away. Jane's lips quirked upwards and he gripped the jacket in his hand. "He's going to tell us. 100%, Lisbon."
"Don't be so cocky. And how do you know that from here?" she whispered, her eyes set on the man in the white suit approaching them slowly.
"His pace, for one. He's in no rush to speak to us. Also, slight slumping of the shoulders-"
Lisbon's ears pricked up as she heard a loud crack in the air near them. Jane stopped talking upon hearing the same sound, his mouth gaping open as Stiles was suddenly hit by a projectile on his right side, sending him to the ground in a heap.
"Gun!" Lisbon roared, unholstering her weapon and sending park goers fleeing in all directions. Jane bounded towards Stiles who lay on the path, blood gushing out of his right side staining the pavement beside him.
"Jane!" she screamed at the top of her voice as another shot rang through the air and pinned Jane from coming any closer to Stiles' quivering body, forced back by the bullet that grazed him on his left upper arm.
Another two rapid cracks like fireworks followed and Stiles' body bounced off the ground with the force of the shots pummelled into him. Lisbon, breathing heavily, rushed towards Jane, his hand on his upper arm, red seeping through his white shirt.
"You jackass!' she yelled, attempting to pull him towards the tree line as Cho ran towards them both from his vantage point behind them.
Jane shook her off and pushed himself forward towards Stiles with a grimace. "He's done shooting!" he told her, glancing in the direction the shots had come in. She glared at him but nodded then glanced at Cho, "Go after the shooter." She pointed in the same direction Jane had. "Can't have gone far. But be careful!"
He took off before she had the last words out. She and Jane reached Stiles, his eyes blinking wide in utter surprise as he looked upwards. Lisbon assessed the damage quickly, knowing there was nothing that could be done and that he'd already lost too much blood as it seeped scarlet through the whiteness of his suit. His breaths were uneven; his lungs already filling with blood and some gathered at his mouth.
"Who is he?" Jane urged, hovering over him and panting wildly. "Bret, please. Tell me who he is."
Stiles blinked, recognising the man in front of him with a slight furrow of his brow. Jane nodded, took the other man's hand and squeezed it as Lisbon watched on. "It's not too late," Jane told him softly. "It's not too late to do something good."
A pained smile came to Stiles' lips and his eyes began to flutter closed. "No, stay with me," Jane commanded, squeezing his hand again. "Damn it! Stay with me!"
The white haired man's eyes opened briefly and he attempted to swallow, blood rushing through his mouth in place of air. He made a gurgling sound as if trying to speak. "Yes," Jane said. "Go on, you can do it."
Stiles' eyes widened abruptly and, after a last apologetic glance at Jane, then closed for the final time.
A/N: I know, I'm sorry but I couldn't resist the cliffhanger but the good news is that next chapter is almost written already so story will be updated very soon.