What if…
Chapter 3: …they got away
Finally, the van came to a stop and the engine cut off. This is it, Jane thought. There would be no time to think, just react. Looking one last time into Agent Dean's eyes, they both spoke volumes to each other without a word being spoken. They were ready to risk their lives for each other. Whether that was the comradery that naturally existed between law enforcement personnel or something deeper, Jane didn't analyze.
The back doors open. Instinctually, she tried to back up further into the van, but Hoyt grabbed her ankle, and pulled her down to him. A shocked cry escaped her mouth, but she had the presence of mind to keep her scalpel-free hand covered. She couldn't expose their advantage. Stretching her feet, the toes of her shoes scraped the earth outside the van, but she wasn't able to plant her feet. Strangely, Jane was grateful she had disobeyed years of scolding from her mother and had laid down on her bed with her tennis shoes on. Craning her neck, she saw Gabriel's feet were also protected. They could run. Now they just needed the opportunity to incapacitate them both or separate the team.
"We're going to lay low for a while, Jane. Your friends have us boxed in," Hoyt's voice demanded her attention once again. "John's going to keep you company here while I go look for a place to play." She hated that the fear that burned through her face, but it seemed to amuse Hoyt. "Don't worry, I won't be gone long." He traced a scalpel lightly across her cheek, but before he broke her skin he pulled Jane roughly to her feet and handed her over to the man he called John.
"No," she whimpered, hating how small she sounded and prayed Gabriel wouldn't act too soon trying to spare her more pain. A stray hand groped her chest. "Please stop," she begged.
"Shut up," he hissed, clearly intolerant to his victims talking back. He pushed her against a tree, hands freely roaming her body. Jane closed her eyes, trying to escape that moment in time, but quickly opened them. She had to watch Hoyt leave the area, she had to get a signal to Agent Dean when the time had come to turn the tables on their tormentors. Trying to push the weight away to get a better view of the surrounds, Jane groaned, remembering the holes that once again crippled her hands.
The movement elicited a curse of frustration from the burly man crushing her against the tree. His hands circled her neck, but this time, she wasn't interested in the darkness, this time, her anger flared. Bringing her knee up swiftly, his yell of pain confirmed she had found the sensitive spot. Grinning, their eyes met and she stared into a blaze of hatred. Before he could react to her assault, suddenly the weight was gone. Her partner rushed in so quickly, that Jane lost her footing at the rapid change.
Agent Dean silently twist the apprentice's neck, but Gabriel reached Jane before the lifeless body had even hit the ground. Concern flooded over the man who crouched down in front of the wounded detective. "Jane. Jane…" he couldn't bring himself to ask if she was ok. Of course she wasn't, he had witnessed every moment of torture inflicted on the tenacious woman. When he had heard the man, now laying at his feet, shout in pain, he knew it was time to fight back, that she was fighting back. He wanted to give a moment to compose herself, but time was of the essence, Hoyt was still out there and they had to find safety.
Shaking violent, Jane tried to nod her head, but had very little control over her muscles. She knew shock was finally setting in and she was in trouble if she couldn't get her treacherous body under control. Trying to hold on to Gabriel as he lifted her to her feet merely reminded her again of the wounds in her hands. She was forced to passively let him embrace her. A sob escaped her lips. "Shh," he cooed, caressing the back of her hair. "It's ok, we're going to get out of here."
Helping her back to the van, he stopped to search the apprentice's body for keys, coming up empty, he grabbed the gun poking out of a holster and secured weapon in his waist band. Leaning Rizzoli against the van, he opened the door and searched inside. Hoyt must have taken the keys with him. Dean looked in Jane's eyes, trying to assess her condition. Bruises marred her right temple and neck, her pupils were dilated from either a head injury, shock or fear or all of the above. Blood dripped from the hand hanging loosely at her side containing the metal blade, and a steady stream ran off her fingers on the hand that had been sacrificed to free him from his bonds. And those were the injuries he could see. Was she strong enough to run? The question ran though his mind, but was dismissed after making eye contact once again. "Jane, we have to run, the keys aren't here. Did you see what direction Hoyt went?" he finally asked.
Jane had watched the man in front of her scan her body, noting the toll the past twelve hours had taken. Clearly she looked as bad as she felt but she was grateful Gabriel hadn't questioned her ability to run. It would have been a legitimate question, but they both knew she still had a lot of fight left in her. "Yeah, he headed up that ridge," she started to point, but settled on nodding her head toward the hill straight ahead of her. Taking one unsteady step forward, Dean took hold of her wrist and they ran in the opposite direction.
-/-
The Boston Police Department had all hands patrolling the targeted area. Frost had been able to confirm the ME's van hadn't left the perimeter they had established hours earlier, but it still felt like a needle in a hay stack. The densely populated suburb was an urban jungle and Korsak was getting impatient. Maura sat rigid in the passenger seat studying a map of the area. Somehow she had convinced him that it was best she rode with him, in case her medical expertise was needed…he still wasn't sure what spell she had cast on him to win that battle.
"It's been hours," Maura whispered knowing the longer it took to find them, the worse the outcome was going to be.
"We'll find them," Vince told her, only half believing it himself. As they passed a familiar intersection, he stopped suddenly. They had been down the adjacent road many times that week. "The reserve," he said out loud. Maura looked knowingly at him, this had to be it. Korsak picked up the radio and called for backup before turning down the dirt road.
-/-
"Jane, stop," Gabriel said slowing his pace. The brunette kept moving forward, showing no signs of hearing him. "Jane, stop," he repeated gently guiding her by the elbow to a fallen tree and easing her down onto it.
"What, I can keep going," she said, trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to convince him. Her hands were screaming at her and blood still oozed from the wounds. The hand with the scalpel seemed to be faring better, but any movement of the foreign object had been excruciating.
The sunlight was filtering through the canopy. He guessed they had been walking for about 20 minutes, but they had been forced to head away from the closest exit. It could be another hour of walking before they reached help, and that was assuming they didn't get turned around. "I know Jane, but we've got some distance and we need to look at your hands," he told her, kneeling down to eye level. Removing his shirt, he started ripping strips of cloth to use as bandages. The task gave him something to focus on.
Jane watched his muscles play beneath his white undershirt. She didn't want to push him away like she had Korsak, but wasn't sure she'd be able to stop herself. Being a female in a traditionally male dominated world had led to arbitrary rules she created for herself. These rules ensured she'd be viewed as one of the guys, but the effect was fragile. One moment a competent cop, the next the damsel in distress. She had never resented that fact. How could you resent centuries of cultural programing? But when the line was crossed from cop to damsel, Jane instinctually constructed barriers. Would this be different? This man wasn't exactly her colleague, in fact, somewhere deep down she wanted him to see a damsel beneath the cop exterior. A competent damsel able to take care of herself, but more than one of the guys.
As Gabriel started wrapping her hands, trying to create pressure to stem the bleeding and stabilize the foreign object, she tried think beyond the moment. Unfortunately, her mind drifted to the events of the day.
She'd doubted she'd ever been the same again. Sure they may survive this trek through the woods, but if they found safety she would have to deal with the reality. The team was looking for her, which meant they had been to her apartment. They were good at their jobs and they would have already put the pieces together. They'd know the timeline of events that had taken place in the apartment she would never again call home. Insanely, she thought her best option would be to move to another city, escape the glances of pity and the overbearing sympathy that would forever label her a victim.
Jane hissed as Dean hit a particularly sensitive spot. Truth be told, she was grateful for the distraction.
"Sorry," he apologized slowing his movements. "I think it's best to leave the scalpel in this one," he told her examining her left hand.
She felt herself agreeing, mainly because she remembered the pain from the van when she had removed the other blade and she had no desire to repeat the process without a lot of drugs.
Dean grimaced as he brought the empty hand in question closer. "It looks infected already Jane, we need to get you to a doctor."
"Deal, they have painkillers," she said, trying to lighten the mood. "I think it's about another two miles to the service road or three miles to edge of town if we avoid the trails." Sitting in the car with Korsak a mere two days ago had given her some quality time with a map of the area. She memorized every possible entrance and exit, determined to catch anyone returning to the scene of the crime.
Nodding, Agent Dean was also familiar with the area. He'd spend several hours on foot, patrolling an area he guessed was a mile north of their position. "There's a stream about 15 minutes from here, but it's a little out of the way," he said. "What do you think? I could use some water."
They had lost their cover of darkness and she felt exposed. Heading deeper into the reserve didn't thrill her, but water was desperately needed. She looked at the handle of the handgun sticking out of Gabriel's waistband. That helped level the playing field if they ran into Hoyt.
Agent Dean watched the struggle play out on the features of her face. "Hey," he finally said, lifting her chin to shift her focus on him. "We'll still be moving away from Hoyt. You're hands are infected, you'd lost more blood than I'm comfortable with, and the longer we're out here, the more dehydrated you're going to get. We need to get some fluids in you in case help is farther away than we think."
Nodding, she knew he was thinking more rationally than she was, which made her angry at herself. She was letting fear influence her decisions. "Ok," she agreed. "Just give me one more minute." Her hands felt like they were on fire after the attention Dean had just given them.
"Yeah, ok," he agreed, joining her on the tree trunk. Wrapping an arm around her, she leaned heavily on him, allowing a sob to escape her lips. "Shh," he whispered. "You're going to get through this. We're going to get out of here."
-/-
Slowly approaching the black van, Korsak considered his options. He needed back up, but what if Jane needed immediate help? He was with a civilian that needed to be kept out of the line of fire, but would likely refuse to listen to his directions.
"What are we waiting for?" Maura asked reaching for the handle of her door.
"Just wait," Vince commanded. He leaned over and reached inside the glove compartment and withdrew his backup weapon.
Maura's eyes grew big has he set the cold metal in her hand.
"Don't point this at anything you don't intend to shoot," he instructed. "Stay close to me but behind me." It was a risk, but he didn't know where the perps were and the situation would only become immeasurable worse if somehow Dr. Isles became a hostage. He needed her in his sights.
Nodding her understanding, she waited for the sergeant to make the first move. Before he left the safety of the sedan, he radioed Frost who had split off to cover more area of the reserve. They were five minutes away.
The pair moved to the front of the car, "If anything happens, you run for the car," he told her handing her the keys. "Go get help."
"Ok," she agreed, understanding the seriousness of the situation. She had to trust this man even if her instincts told her to do something differently. Her instincts weren't trained for this scenario. His dubious look spoke volumes. "I promise," her honest words seemed to satisfy him and they began to move forward.
Slowly making their way toward the front of the van, it obscured any view behind the vehicle. They had to go in blind. The scene was eerily silent. That fact made Korsak's heart sink. If there were anyone in the vicinity, they likely needed an ME not a detective. Opening the door to the van's cab, more silence greeted them.
Then, finally reaching the back of the van, they saw a man lying face down, unmoving. Before approaching, Vince moved quickly to clear the back of the open van. The area appeared vacated. Except for one body. Checking for a pulse and finding none, the detective rolled the man over. He heard Maura gasp, which confused him. This wasn't either of the hostages they were looking for, sending her a questioning look, the ME lowered her hand from her mouth.
"That's John Stark," she said. "He works for me. Worked for me," she corrected. "Is he…do you think he's the apprentice?"
Before he could answer red and blue lights illuminated the van. Backup had arrived, but the action was long gone.
Maura moved to study the back of the van, the back of her van. Blood coated the metal floor. There was more than she expected. Following a trail, she saw the remains of duct tape toward the back of the cargo hold. A glint of metal caught her eye. Carefully entering, she expertly avoided the blood evidence and peered under the pile of tape. With no gloves she didn't dare touch the evidence. What she saw confused her then instantly made her sick. A bloody scalpel. Had her friend used the scalpel from her hand to free Agent Dean? That would certainly explain the extra blood. She shivered at the thought. The fear someone had to feel to be willing to inflict such pain on themselves had to have been severe. Like an animal willing to chew off their own leg.
She couldn't get out fast enough and scrambled to the open air calling her.