Dangerous Mine: Chapter 9
Author's Note: Found a bunch of scribblings for the rest of this story tucked away in a bag in my closet. I did love this story.
-/-
Josiah was back in the office the next day by midmorning. the burly profiler's face was haggard and it was obvious that he had not shaved, or slept. He tossed a small drawstring pouch onto the top of Chris' desk.
"He left this with Hannah," he said, bitterness coloring his voice. "Told her it was a gift from me. She wouldn't let me near her for hours."
Chris leaned across the desk to grab the bag and bring it toward him. He grimaced when he saw the contents. "Ashley's I'm willing to bet."
"Fingernails and teeth," Josiah nodded, "guy's a charmer all right."
"Was there a message with them?" Chris asked. "He seems fond of those."
Josiah dug out a small folded square of paper from his pocket. The note was dashed with spots of dark, dried blood. Probably from riding around in a bag of bloody teeth. He unfolded it, face darkening as his eyes scanned the contents, and then handed it to Chris.
God. A man devoted to living through HIS teachings. A broken girl, all but abandoned by that man in a house of the Lord. But the Lord does not bless the sinner that refuses to repent. He does not bless the sinner that casts his burden away from him, and turns his back on the lessons God would teach him. He is apathy. I need not teach you any more Josiah. Your sister is your stigmata.
Chris raised an eyebrow and looked at Josiah over the top of the paper. "The hell?" he asked.
"If I had to wager a hypothesis, I'd say our offender is using Team 7 as a lesson in sin. Deadly sins, as it happens. Though interestingly, the seven deadly sins are never explicitly listed in the Bible."
"You can spare me the theology lesson Josiah, unless this guy has written a paper on it you happen to know about. I know the gist. Envy, gluttony, lust, sloth, greed, pride, and my own personal favorite, wrath. Which I promise this man will feel mine as soon as we catch him."
The profiler didn't push. Chris was not a man to be pushed, especially when he was already on the defensive. Whoever this guy was, he'd come after Chris' own. Josiah didn't wish that den of rattlesnakes on anyone. "Regardless, from what i can tell, he's attacking each of us with the our sin, the one he perceives we represent. Attacking Buck through Ashley, think we all know Buck's sin is lust. I believe the words on the wall Ez and Sam read were meant for Vin, his pride. And if I had to guess my sin is sloth, he sees my devotion to my work as a failing in my devotion to God. Hannah being out of my care is a sign that I'm leaving that spiritual work to others." The big man paused. He couldn't lie to himself, there were times he wondered as much himself.
"But why us?" Chris questioned. "We arrest people every day that have to be better embodiments of sin."
Josiah raised his palms, "The numerology is convenient, for one. Seven of us after all. And it probably offends him that we're held up to the public as heroes. He's a man that believes himself a true believer and that worship should not be bestowed upon anyone other than the Lord. And we are a very public face of those things he feels are falsely held up as noble in the world."
"Great," Chris ran a hand over his mouth, his fair features dark, "my favorite. A fanatic looking to make a point. I take it the Ashley thing is just the tip of the iceberg?"
"If I were Ezra?" Josiah said. "I'd take those odds."
"Well that's just great."
—
Hunter backed her way through the double hospital doors, a tray of five coffee cups, four neat in their cardboard holders, one precariously balanced on top like the crown stone of a pyramid, in one hand, a greasy white paper sack in the crook of her casted arm, since her fingers were still more or less useless.
"Hey," she greeted the three agents in the waiting area, though she surreptitiously avoided Ezra's gaze. Nathan must be back with Vin in his room. Good, easier to have an excuse to leave quickly. She'd spent most of the night sliding between guilt, shame, and anger. The anger had won out; easier that way, especially when she knew, deep down, there was more than a nugget of truth to what Ezra had said the night before. So anger won, and now it simmered near the surface.
"Woman, you are some kind of saintly angel, bringing me coffee from somewhere other than a hospital vending machine," Buck said, sitting up straighter in his chair.
JD mirrored his friend. "Dang Sam do I smell Habit Donuts?" His eyes widened, alit with excitement.
Hunter grinned and tossed him the bag. "Just make sure you share JD," she teased. "That half dozen is not ALL for you. And here," she plucked the top cup off the coffee tray and handed it to him, "double caramel macchiato." She shook her head. "Explain to me how you used to consistently make coffee black and strong as tar in the office, but this is your drink of choice when you order out?" The kid grinned and shrugged.
"Simple," Buck snatched the donut bag from JD, but not before the younger agent managed to claim his prize, a glazed, filled donut topped by some sugary cinnamon cereal. "and no used to about it, his coffee is still tar. He loads up the stuff at the office with more additions than actual coffee and lets the rest of us deal with drinking it black… like an adult. Why you think we go through hazelnut creamer so fast?" The older man's lips thinned as he regarded his partner. "Sure Sam, you sugar him up, but it's me who's gotta deal with him."
Sam winked, and gave his shoulder a squeeze with her non casted hand. It was good to hear Buck joke. Her fingers hovered over the coffees for another moment before plucking a second cup out to hand to Buck. "Black," she said with a wry smile, "like an adult." The face Buck made when he took the cup was very much not adult like. Sam laughed.
"Wasn't expecting your to grace our presence so early this morning Hunter," Ezra said mildly. He wasn't surprised she'd come to the hospital really, only that she'd done it while he was still there. He hadn't been, he admitted to himself, particularly kind the night before. Not that she hadn't deserved it, she had left, and not that he hadn't understood why. But it had stung then, and festered, more than he'd realized.
Sam visibly stiffened, then turned toward the southerner. How he managed to looked pressed after what she guessed was a mostly sleepless night in a hospital chair was one of the great mysterious of life she doubted she'd ever be able to solve. "Yeah , well, I may be one of the most unreliable people on the planet Standish, but it seems I can still order an Uber and pick up coffee and donuts."
Both Buck and JD's eyebrows shot up into their hairlines. "Subtle," Bucked remarked lowly.
"Did she just call him Standish?" JD hissed out of the corner of his mouth.
"Here's your Americano," she practically shoved the cup in the undercover agent's chest. "Because you can't have just a black drip like a normal human."
"No need to be snarky, simply because you lack the refinement to understand the nuance," Ezra snapped back.
Sam's eyes shot green sparks. Anger. Definitely easier. "Yeah, because it's one hundred percent my problem right? Has nothing to do with you and how you feel like coffee ought to be, even though you had nothing to do with ordering it."
Buck leaned in toward JD. "She so ain't talkin' about coffee." JD nodded.
"I'm gonna go give Nathan his drink," Sam stated flatly, turning away from the undercover agent.
The youngest agent of Team 7 watched Sam's retreating back, then Ezra rise, smooth the imaginary wrinkles from his suit coat and then stalk in the opposite direction, his coffee left forgotten on the table. "Wow, they're like… fighting fighting. Not just them fighting.'
Buck sighed and shook his head. "Reckon you're right kid. And that ain't good for anybody."
—
Nathan was reading when Sam gently knocked on the doorjamb. "You're here early," he remarked.
Sam shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. Figured I'd be useful, make a coffee run."
THe medic nodded. "Lot of that going on here lately." He set the sheaf of papers down beside him.
Craning her neck to read the cover, Sam read aloud. "Case studies in alternative treatments for severe poly trauma with multiple modalities." She shook her head. "I bet you're super fun at parties."
Nathan had the good grace to chuckle. "Gotta keep current when you consider the company I keep. You all keep trying to get blown up, beat up or shot."
"Sometimes all three," Sam joked.
"Yeah," Nate's face fell. "Sometimes."
Hunter held out one of the last two cups, but Nathan waved it off. "JD's pretty much turned me off coffee." He grimaced. "So bitter, so, so bitter."
"That's why I got you tea. London Fog." Nathan's face brightened and he eagerly took the cup. Sam set down her own cup and pulled up the other chair in the room. "How's he doing?"
"Stable. But the same." He took a long sip of his tea, a small smile playing over his lips and he raised the cup. "It's good. Thanks Sam." She smiled back but it was thin and her eyes troubled. Nathan didn't have much in the way of comfort, he and Samantha had not been particularly close during her tenure on Team 7. It was Vin that had been her closest friend. Hell, wasn't much to say regardless. "You good here with him?" he asked. "I've got to be getting into the office. Chris texted that Josiah was back with some theories about this guy. Wants a meeting. All hands."
"Yeah, yeah, all good. Got nowhere to be. You go do what you need."
"I can leave the reading materials," he offered.
Sam chuckled. I'm all good, thanks. Had my fill of poly trauma in the hands on way, don't know I need to read more up on it."
"Suit yourself. One of us will be back later." She nodded, but wasn't really listening. She'd scooted her chair closer to the bed the moment that Nathan had risen, sliding her fingers between the sharpshooters.
The gentle rustle of expensive fabric caught her attention. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ezra in the doorway. There was a pang in her chest, in that hollow beneath her sternum. "We've been summoned by our formidable leader," he told the medic. "All hands on deck. Josiah's back."
"Yep, got the group text. No need to come sniffing me out. Let's go." The medic passed Ezra out into the hall. The undercover agent remained, hovering in Sam's periphery. He breathed. Hers stopped, waiting. One moment. Two. Her fingers tightened over Vin's hand. She wanted to say something. Couldn't. Wanted him to say something. Didn't. Then he was gone. And she breathed, and it hurt.
"Damn Sammy," the voice was quiet, and rough. "I ain't around to play peacekeeper for just the littlest while, and you two are at each other's throat."
The knot of hurt in her chest instantly burst into butterflies. Sam's head snapped around to find a pair of soft, kind, blue eyes, even if one of them looked to have a hard time focusing. "Vin!" She jumped to her feet. "Guys!" she called out. Vin's fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around her own.
"No," he breathed. "No. Let 'em be. Chris called all hands. Gotta be important."
"Chris would shag his happy ass down here but quick if he knew you were awake." Sam swiped quickly at the tears rolling down her cheek with her free hand. Somehow now that his eyes were open, Vin's face looked paler and more gaunt than it had when he'd been out. Nor did it escape her notice that the change in pressure as he gripped her hand was nearly imperceptible.
"I…" Vin licked his lips, "know. Which is why… you need to wait." His throat was dry and it felt like he could barely draw enough air to form the words.
"Well I at least need to call the nurse."
"Naw, why would you go and do a thing like that to a man? I'm awake, don't be needin anyone pokin and proddin at me to figure that out. Just… go ahead… and wait a bit. You need to catch me up anyway."
Sam gave his hand another squeeze before letting go to pour him a cup of water from the pitcher near his bed. The control box allowed her to adjust the bed so he was more upright, and she offered him the cup. Vin's hand trembled as he reached for it, though he managed to bring the cup to his lips without spilling too much. "How long you been back among us anyway?" Sam asked.
"A bit." Better. The small bit of water improved his voice from gravely to just a rasp. "Took a minute to get my eyes cooperating. How long?"
"Almost a week."
"And Ashley?" Sam bit her lip and shook her head. "Damn."
"He live streamed it," she told him. "Made it last. Made it a spectacle, stoned her before he cut her throat."
"Now if that ain't all kinds of twisted. How's Buck?"
"A wreck. On administrative leave technically."
The sharpshooter pinned her under a blue gaze. "And you Sammy? And don't you dare say fine. That line don't fly with me."
"But it's such a tried and true," she protested with a chuckle. When Vin didn't laugh in return Sam sighed. "I don't know why he didn't kill me," she admitted softly. "It keeps… tumbling around my head."
"Well I for one am glad he didn't." His eyes felt heavy. Damn but he was tired. Which made no sense at all considering he'd just woken from a six day nap, but he couldn't seem to fight it. He felt the brush of lips on his cheek before sleep pulled him under again.
—
"So you said the definition for hubris was written on the wall of the factory?" Chris queried Ezra.
"Yes Mr. Larabee. A veritable 'pride cometh before the fall' warning. Right before the elusive scoundrel dropped a building on our heads. It was rather on the nose in my opinion." Ezra's voice was flat, expression grim.
"But he couldn't have known you and Vin would be the ones to find the warehouse," JD observed. "Or that we'd find the warehouse at all. And if we're going with Josiah's theory on the seven deadly sins, wouldn't that matter? I mean the other two attacks were pretty obviously meant specifically for Buck and Josiah right?"
"You have a point brother JD," Josiah said. He'd been quiet for much of the meeting, his thoughts meandering back toward the look on Hannah's face. "But also, that's just what Ezra happened to see. There could have been other writings of sin on the walls, destroyed in the blast. That warehouse was likely his haven, where he went to contemplate his purpose, even to act out that purpose, in the case of Ms. Hunter. He may just have been covering his bases. The explosion was an act of necessity, not planning. Though it served his purposes all the same."
Buck grunted from his place by the wall, arms crossed over his chest. "So what? He's covered two of seven sins? Five more to go. Ain't we just rolling in luck with that? At least we know who he'll be goin after with two of the though right? The rest of the team shot him a puzzled look. "I mean hell cowboy," Buck addressed their leader. "you got wrath pretty much covered." Ice blue eyes glared back at his oldest friend. "And hell I mean greed is pretty obvious."
Ezra twisted in his chair to sneer at the bigger man. "Really Mr. WIlmington? You're going to so freely debase my character?"
"Ah hell Ez, I didn't say your name and even you assume it's you."
Ezra turned back around, eyes rolling skyward. "Fair point." He tugged at the sleeve of his suit coat. "Simply because one appreciates the finer things in life…" he muttered beneath his breath.
"Focus." One word. Growled out of Chris Larabee's mouth. The office immediately went quiet.
"Loathe as I am to even suggest this possibility," Ezra spoke first, "Nathan and I have discussed it, and we both agree we should consider that our perpetrator has intimate knowledge of the workings of this office."
"We think he might be law enforcement," Nathan clarified, "or have a source within law enforcement."
"Ms. Hunter was the clue," Ezra chimed in. "She was not with this office long, was not lauded in the public eye, and she's been absent nearly two years. So how, perchance, did he know about her? Same with Hannah," the southerner nodded to Josiah. "Your sister's existence is not common knowledge outside these walls."
"Well that's just right terrifying ain't it?" Buck grunted. "We gotta get on this Chris. How many more Ashley's are there gonna be he sees fit to punish for our sins?"
"You think I don't know that Buck?" Chris's voice was like ice. "We dig in. Josiah's current running theory is that our offender is early to mid thirties, has some experience with demolitions, possibly law enforcement or armed services, likely came from a strict religious background, history of violence towards women. Smart, but limited education."
"That don't exactly narrow down the pool as much as one would hope there pard," Buck observed.
"We also have Ez and Sam's description," Chris ignored his friend. "Caucasian, around 6', two hundred plus pounds, athletic build, dark hair. It's not much but we gotta start somewhere. This guy's been quiet for a few days now, but we can't expect that to last. And the brass upstairs wants us to stay out of it, which means this falls on us on our own time. Buck, JD, you're already on leave, so take point and run with it." His two agents nodded, faces grim.
A trilling chirp filed the air. JD flushed, fumbling to get his phone out of his pocket. "Sorry, sorry," he muttered. "Forgot to put it on silent." He quieted the phone, but the screen flashed brightly and his eyes found the text notification without meaning to. The youngest member of Team 7's face split into a wide smile. "Guys! Guys! Sam sent a group text. Vin's awake!"
-/-
Chapter 9
Note: Chapter 10 is already written and I'm halfway through 11.