Part 58

The shock slowly began to wear off only to be replaced by a feeling of awareness and she realized that the feeling could only mean one thing: Michael was somewhere in the vicinity. She didn't know if that meant he was in the neighborhood or in the house, but she had to keep Hawkins distracted to give Michael as much of a chance to get inside undetected as possible.

She swallowed down her own fear and let her concern for Michael's safety override everything else. She looked at her captor, watching him as he stood at the fireplace, his gaze locked on the woman in the picture. "You're right, Hawkins, I didn't know Stone very well, but I do know Michael and I know what he went through to make sure her last wish was carried out."

"Her last wish," Hawkins muttered. "What would you know about her last wish?"

"I know that she wasn't afraid of dying; she wanted to let go, to be with Azrael again, and she didn't die alone. Michael never left her side, Hawkins. How many people… agents, operatives, whatever, have you seen left in the field to die alone because the mission came first? How many have you known to be left behind because they died while they were carrying out their mission and the Company wouldn't risk other agents to retrieve the body?"

"You think you know all that? You know exactly what he wanted you to know!" he screamed, beyond angry that she would dare to think she could ever understand his pain.

"I know that he carried her body back over miles of jungle with soldiers or rebels tracking him and he didn't have to do that. He did it because he's an honorable man and he was keeping a promise he made to his dying friend. Do you think it was easy for him to watch her die and know that there wasn't a damn thing he could do to help her?" She shook her head. "If you honestly believe that then you don't know that man and you never did; he might be many things, and not all of them good, but he always honors his word. You should know that about him if you know nothing else."

"You defend him blindly," Hawkins snapped, stalking across the room to tower over her as he studied her. "You love him so you see him differently, you believe that there's good in him… you've never seen what he's capable of in the field."

Maria couldn't believe the man's audacity. "I won't argue with you about who or what he is; the point of the matter is that he was under no obligation to the Company to carry Stone's lifeless body through the jungle, missing his flight, and possibly compromising his own ride out of there. He did it out of loyalty to a friend; he honored her last request and brought her home to be buried next to the man she loved."

From the doorway Michael saw Hawkins' profile and he knew Maria had just pushed the man over the edge. Every protective instinct he had went into overdrive as Hawkins raised his arm and brought his hand down, slapping her hard enough that it was sure to leave a mark. He ran across the room and jumped on the coffee table, using his right foot to give him the leverage he needed to launch himself at Hawkins and take him down without taking Maria with them.

Maria watched them as they fought, her eyes trying to follow the location of the gun at all times. She was terrified that he was going to shoot Michael and her eyes widened when the gun suddenly hit the floor. She quickly got to her feet, intending to take possession of it, but Hawkins managed to get his hand around it first.

"Maria, get out!" Michael shouted. He knew without looking that she hadn't followed his order; she didn't have it in her to walk away while he was in danger.

Maria winced at the sound of flesh and bone connecting before Michael shoved Hawkins away and then went after him. Their combined weight drove them to the floor and they crashed into one of the wood and glass end tables, upsetting a lamp and several other items and shattering the glass.

They rolled across the floor, exchanging blows for several minutes before Hawkins managed to free his right hand, bringing it up and slamming the grip of his gun against the side of Michael's head. The blow stunned him, but not long enough for Hawkins to free himself as Michael twisted free and brought his elbow up to collide with the man's nose.

Hawkins screamed in rage as blood poured from his nose and his thumb brushed against the safety, pushing it into the off position as he took aim at Maria. "You think I won't kill her, too, Guerin?"

Michael knew from the positions they were in that unless he could somehow get between Hawkins and Maria that he had no way of stopping what the man intended to do. He also knew he would never let it happen. "What's the point of killin' her, Hawkins?" He held his hands out, feeling the tingling in them as the power started to build. "I'm the one you want, so why pull a civilian into it?"

"Even I know you're not that stupid, Guerin." Hawkins shook his head as he moved closer to Maria. "I read the autopsy report, so I know Stone was taken out with a hollow-point bullet… I saw the damage that bullet made as it tore through her body. It's not the same as a round from a sniper rifle, but hell, a .45 caliber at close range… that'll do more than enough damage and we'll just sit here and wait while she dies a slow and agonizing death."

Maria saw Michael's eyes darken and she watched as his hands flexed and he tried to contain the power that was amassing within him. Hawkins was pushing all of the wrong buttons and he had no idea what he was messing with. The problem was that Hawkins had moved behind her and that put her directly in the path of Michael's wrath if he lost control. It would devastate him if he hurt her while trying to save her and she was trying to think of a way to help him when she heard the man behind her ready the gun for firing.

She shivered as she felt the cold barrel of the gun brush lightly against her neck and her heart started to pound mercilessly. Her gaze shot to Michael when he spoke, breaking the tense silence.

"I'm sure you'll want it to be as close as possible to the way it was," he said, his eyes never wavering from Hawkins. He could only hope that Maria was paying attention to what he was saying.

Hawkins paused a moment and he stared at Michael in confusion. "What?"

"Stone was shot on the right side… you're on her left."

He was telling her to move to the left, Maria realized.

"I don't need you to tell me where she was shot!" Hawkins bellowed as his left hand came down to clamp on Maria's shoulder and he held her in place. "You might just as well have pulled the trigger yourself." He suddenly moved away from her and around the couch to grab a file folder off of an armchair. He turned and threw it at Michael and photos of Stone, pre- and post-autopsy fluttered down to land on the floor and coffee table.

Maria felt sick to her stomach as she saw the wound that had taken Stone's life and she knew only too well what it felt like to watch someone you cared about slowly draw their last, pained breaths. Her gaze shot up to Michael, relieved to see that his eyes hadn't moved from Hawkins; he hadn't fallen for the distraction.

"You did that to her! You let her die!" Hawkins paced agitatedly but the gun never wavered from his intended victim.

Michael didn't bother denying the other man's accusations; he knew he had done everything within his power to help her even though he had known he couldn't save her. But, he'd be damned if he lost someone else that he gave a damn about like that.

Maria leaned over to pick up one of the pictures, startling Hawkins and he whirled around to face her, bringing the gun up with the intention of firing it. The shot went wild when Michael shouted and his hands came up, releasing a burst of energy that picked Hawkins up and threw him across the room. He impacted with the wall and dropped to the floor, stunned.

Michael hurried across the room to grab the gun that Hawkins had dropped; he released the clip and emptied the round loaded into the chamber before throwing it on a nearby shelf. He aimed a kick at Hawkins' ribcage before hauling the man up off of the floor and slamming him into the wall, holding him there and meeting his glazed eyes.

"You have no idea what I could do to you," he growled menacingly.

"You'll have to kill me to stop me," Hawkins rasped.

Michael's fist shot up, connecting with the man's jaw and making his head snap back. "I could kill you without ever givin' it a second thought," he snarled, so filled with rage that he didn't even notice that Hawkins was slumped back against the wall, unconscious.

"Michael, stop!" she yelled when she saw his right hand flexing as he prepared to deliver another blast. She ran around the destruction the two men had left in their wake and she wrapped her hands around his right wrist. "Michael, stop! Let him go!"

Her voice slowly penetrated the haze of anger and hatred that was pounding through his veins and he turned his head to look at her. As the fog lifted and her words began to register he looked back at Hawkins and he released him, letting him fall to the floor in a graceless heap.

He reached for her handcuffed wrists and checked his pockets for the pair of keys that went to the pair of handcuffs he carried. The keys were universal and he quickly freed her from the restraints and threw them on the floor. He started to massage her wrists, feeling the fury building again when he saw the bruises that marred her flesh from the rough treatment she had received at Hawkins' hands.

Maria looked down when she felt something rough against her skin and she frowned at the hastily-wrapped bandage covering his right hand, but before she could ask him about it a group of armed men swarmed into the room.

Michael shifted back into his usual demeanor without blinking an eye and he answered the questions being thrown at him from two different men. Another man that she didn't know pulled her aside and started to take her statement, asking questions about Hawkins' mental state, his actions, and the chain of events.

The agents were quick, efficient, and didn't detain them any longer than necessary. The agents were wrapping up their line of questioning as Hawkins was being helped up off of the floor and she turned to look at him when he suddenly started shouting and pointing wildly at Michael. She felt her heart rate increase when his rant extended to Michael, arms and hands waving erratically in the air as he screamed about the other man being some sort of freak who had thrown him across the room with nothing more than a wave of his hand.

Relief flooded through her when the other agents shook their heads and a couple of them even laughed. They had no reason to believe his insane ramblings and thankfully there wasn't a single agent there who gave any credence to what he was saying.

"I think we'd better take him straight to the psyche hospital," the one who seemed to be in charge said.

"We'll drop him off there and meet you back at the office to finalize the paperwork, Collins," another agent said as he shoved Hawkins toward the front door.

"We're gonna take off if you guys are finished," Michael said.

"Nah, we're done here, Guerin," Collins said as he closed his small notebook and slid it into one of his vest pockets. "We've got your statements, Hawkins is obviously sufferin' from some sort of mental break, and Xavier said to just cover the bases so we can close the file out and to let you know that Hawkins won't bother you again."

Michael shook the man's hand and reached out to take Maria's arm, guiding her out of the house and down the street to the truck. He helped her inside and made sure her seatbelt was buckled before slamming the door and going around to the other side.

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They were silent as they entered the house more than an hour later and Michael walked straight back to his bedroom, stripping his shirt off and throwing it on the bathroom floor. He grabbed a washcloth and turned back to the sink, freezing when he saw that Maria was already there.

"Get the first aid kit," she instructed as she adjusted the water temperature. She took the washcloth from him, running it under the warm water and then tending to the small cuts and scratches on his face.

When she was finished she turned her attention to the messy bandage on his hand. She carefully peeled it off, wincing when it caught on the wounds. He shrugged one shoulder and held his hand under the water, loosening the bandage from the wounds and allowing her to pull it the rest of the way off.

After removing several small pieces of plastic that had been embedded in his flesh she cleaned his palm, applied an antiseptic, and then bandaged it up once again. She was aware of him in a way she had managed to avoid and ignore for months, but the adrenaline still pounding through her veins was allowing that feeling to override all others.

Michael was watching her as one of her hands came up to trace over his dog tags where they lay against his chest and he caught her hand, holding it under his as he studied the bruises on her wrist.

"I told you to get out," he said, his voice shaking with a mix of anger and leftover fear. "He could've fuckin' killed you… he was unstable and he was on the edge and he had a gun trained on you!" he yelled. "Do you understand how close you came to dyin' just so he could get back at me?!"

She stared at him as he paced back and forth in front of her, his emotions boiling so close to the surface that she knew it was only a matter of time before they erupted. She felt that pull becoming stronger and when he suddenly stopped and faced her every sane, rational thought fled.