John wasn't sure how long he slept, but one thing was for sure, he didn't feel any better. His leg was stiff and there was a steady throb that ran up and down his thigh, like a heartbeat. He put a hand to his side and it came away wet with blood. It hurt too. Not a throbbing pain like his leg but a hot, searing pain, like a burn from steam but multiplied by ten. He opened a bottle of water and took a drink. He wished it was colder but it felt good when it ran down his dry throat. He looked down, just realizing that she wasn't leaning against him anymore, and saw that Jessie was curled up on the floor, using a duffel bag as a pillow.
"Hey," John shook her shoulder gently. "Jessie, wake up."
Jessie stirred and rubbed at her eyes. She sat up and groaned, putting her hand to her forehead.
"You, okay?"
"Head hurts." She said groggily.
He looked through the first-aid kit and took out two packets of aspirin. "Here, these will help." He gave her water to wash them down with. "You may have a mild concussion...do you feel sick? How's your vision?"
"I feel a little queasy...but I can see fine, my eyes aren't bothering me."
"The aspirin should help...at least a little." He opened a bottle of whiskey and handed it to her. "Take a few sips of that...it'll take some of the edge off."
Jessie took two long drinks from the whiskey bottle and shivered as it hit the bottom of her stomach. She put the bottle down and drank some more water. "Ugh...that stuff has the worst aftertaste."
John laughed. "Are you sure you're Irish?"
"Ha ha ha, you're funny. How long did we sleep?"
"Not sure...couple hours maybe. I want to get my side cleaned up, so I can put on a sweatshirt...it could get cold in here as it gets later."
"Yeah, okay." She said hesitantly. She saw how much pain he was in when they had done his thigh, she didn't want to hurt him like that again.
John pulled off his tee-shirt and used water and the sweatshirt, he had used on Jessie's head earlier and washed the blood from his side. 'God, that's deep.' He said as he examined it. He could just barely make out the white bone of his ribs. 'This is not gonna be good.' Lying down on his other side he pulled the duffel bag, Jessie had been using as a pillow, over and put it under his head.
"Ready?" Jessie asked him reaching for the whiskey bottle again.
John nodded but stopped her when she got close to him with the bottle. "Listen...I almost passed out when we did my leg...it hurt...it hurt a lot. I think this is gonna be much worse. If I pass out, don't be scared...don't worry, I'll only be out for a little while. I'll be okay once it's all over, I promise. If I do pass out...there's sterile tape... cut it in strips...use it to close the cut as best as you can...pull it tight and tape the ends down so they stay in place. Then, layer it with gauze and tape it up." He looked at her and smiled, trying to reassure her. "Everything will be okay."
Jessie was worried and scared. Worried that the pain would be really bad for John and he would definitely pass out. Scared that she would be alone after he did pass out and that despite what Krieger had told her, he and Langston would be back to finish what they started. A tear fell down her cheek and she wiped it away and rubbed at her eyes, trying to hide them from John. It didn't work though, he had seen everything. He sat up and pulled her hand away from her face. He ran his fingers gently down her cheek and then leaned in so their foreheads were touching.
"I'll be okay...don't be afraid of hurting me...you're gonna help me...what you're doing is gonna help me, okay?" He kissed the top of her head and leaned back to look in her eyes. "Trust me, okay?"
"I do...I...I will."
"Alright, then, let's do this." He laid back down on his side and smiled. "Remember what I said..."
Jessie nodded. "Okay." She poured the whiskey on his side and cringed when he cried out from the pain.
John's entire body stiffened as the whiskey went deep and the pain spread, like a brush fire in the wind, along his side. He groaned and bit down on his lip until he tasted blood. He closed his eyes, clamped his mouth closed and waited...and waited for the pain to stop. It felt like he was being stabbed with a hot poker over and over again and he didn't think he could take much more. Tears rolled down his cheek and he just wanted to scream for it to stop. Finally, like a bottle of spilled ink, a darkness settled over his mind and his body relaxed. 'Thank you.' He thought as his body's defenses took over completely and took him away from his pain.
Jessie had dropped the bottle of whiskey and put her hands over her ears when John had cried out in pain. She watched him fight to keep from screaming and she hated that there was nothing she could do for him. 'Pass out, pass out, pass out...' She chanted in her head. When she saw his face and body relax she brought her hands down and moved closer to him. She put her hand on his chest and was relieved when it rose and fell normally with each breath he took. She picked up the damp sweatshirt and wiped the blood off his lips, from when he bit down on his bottom lip to keep from screaming, then she went to work on his side. She cleaned the cut again, this time with water, closed it with the sterile tape and bandaged it like John had told her to. Struggling a bit, she sat him up, put a clean tee shirt and a long sleeve denim shirt on him, to keep the wound clean and him warm, and laid him back down. She sat and watched him for a moment, smoothing his hair back and touching his cheek, hoping that he would wake up and tell her he was okay. When he didn't, she laid down next to him, getting as close as she could without actually touching him, and closed her eyes. Images of her Father immediately came forward and she pushed them back as tears rolled down her face. She reached over, took John's hand and placed it on top of her head. It was comforting and she felt safe. She closed her eyes again and relaxed, letting the feeling of his hand on her head calm her. She imagined him rubbing the side of her head and running his fingers through her hair and everything disappeared from her mind. She felt sleepy and dark shadows danced slowly behind her eyelids, coaxing her to let herself get lost in them, and she did. Content, she let herself drift away.
Krieger stopped at a diner, just outside of Boston, to call Bailey and let him know where to find Patrick's body. He sat down at a booth and ordered a coffee when the waitress came over. When she left to get it, he took John's phone from his pocket, looked up Bailey's number and hit the call button.
Bailey couldn't open his phone fast enough when he looked down and saw John's name moving across the front display of his cell phone.
"John! Thank God, where are you!?"
"This isn't John Grant, Agent Malone."
Bailey's heart sank at the sound of the stranger's voice. He covered the phone with his hand and addressed the others in the room, who got excited when he mentioned John's name. "It's not John. George, see if we could get a signal from John's cell...maybe we could get a lead on where the call is coming from." He turned his attention back to the caller. "Who is this? Where's John?"
"You'll get that call in two days...this one is for Patrick O'Doyle. He's dead...and I promised them I would call and tell you where to find him...Agent Malone?"
Bailey closed his eyes and shook his head when the caller had told him Patrick was dead. He cleared his throat and started pacing. "I'm here."
"Good. You can find his body down by the docks...east side...closest to the drawbridge. If the tide hasn't pulled him in, he should be under the third pier. He's only been there a few hours...Steven Lewis is there too."
"Am I going to get the same call about John two days from now?" He asked angrily.
"They were alive when I left them and I won't be going back to see them...neither will Roy Langston."
"Thomas Krieger..."
"I'll call you again in two days Agent Malone. Go tend to O'Doyle's body...the girl was very upset...it would not do her any good for her Father's body to be found in worse condition than when she last saw him."
The line went dead and Bailey closed his phone and stopped pacing.
"What is it, Bailey?" Sam asked as she watched him struggle with what to do next.
"Nathan, get with Boston P.D. and head down to the east side of the docks by the drawbridge...underneath the third pier...Grace you go with him. Call me as soon as you find anything."
"What exactly are we looking for?" Nathan asked although he was sure he really didn't want to know.
Bailey looked around the room at everyone until his eyes settled on Robert. "That was Thomas Krieger...he said Patrick was dead and that his body was down at the docks. I'm sorry, Robert."
It took a few moments for what Bailey said to sink in. Patrick was dead. Patrick was dead and his body had been dumped at the docks. Robert put his head in his hands and shook his head. "We shouldn't have gone to the wake...we all should've gone to the safe-house...we could've stayed in Georgia...after Sal was killed we should've got the hell out of here...we should've...we.." Robert's ramblings trailed off and he started to cry.
Sam sat down next to him and put her arm around him. She looked at Bailey, her eyes filled with tears. "What about John and Jessie?"
"He said he would call in two days to tell me where to find them. George, did we get anything from John's cell?"
"No, there wasn't enough time...if he uses John's phone again we'll know."
"Good. Nathan...Grace get down to the docks. Grace give us a call when you're done at the M.E's office...we'll uh...come by." After Grace and Nathan left he sat down across from Robert. "Robert, there's a lot of things we could have done differently...that we should have done differently...but there was no way we were going to keep Patrick from that wake and funeral...and they anticipated that. They were one up on us and that was my fault."
"It wasn't your fault," Robert said quietly. He looked up at Bailey. "Do you think Jessie's...gone too?"
"I don't know...Krieger said they were alive. I guess he's giving himself some getaway time...he said he'd call back in two days to tell us where to find them. Let's hope he's a man of his word."
"He did call and let us know about Patrick," Sam added. "He didn't have to do that...he obviously feels remorse...something must have gone wrong. I don't think things went as they planned."
"He said we could find Lewis' body with Patrick...and that Langston wouldn't be a bother anymore...he may have killed them both."
"After everyone, they've killed why leave Jessie and John alive?"
"I don't know, Robert...it could be just another game."
"I'm not so sure about that, Bailey. I think something happened...I think Krieger, in the middle of everything, something changed his mind...he may have been misled somehow."
"I hope you're right, Sam."
Tbc...
