Setting: ATF Universe
Page 13
Josiah trudged along, eyeing the rocky outgroup that Buck identified as Smuggler's Cove. His long strides took him past the rocks and caves and around to the other side. In the distance, slightly behind him and not one to ever be shy, he heard his partner's drawling compliants.
"Lord, give me strength," the preacher eyed the sky, "...or a fast bullet."
"I heard that!"
"Ezra, I got fifteen years and a whole lot of pounds on you. Do you hear me complaining?"
"I was not meant for trevails through the sand," the southerner scoffed, wiping the sweat from his brow, "Any inclination of such, would have been silenced by my admittance into the French Foreign Legion."
"Aren't they the lucky bunch..." Josiah grumbled, starting to climb up the rocky ladder. He walked a few feet at the top, waiting for Ezra to join him. He eyed the outline of the sprawling building, just as Buck described it. He grinned at the panting, sweating conman and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You ain't gonna keel over, are you Brother?"
"Hah!" Ezra snorted, "A Standish does not 'keel over'."
"Yeah," Josiah agreed, his blue eyes twinkling, "I guess that's why there are so many of you."
"Humorous, Mr. Sanchez, very humorous," Ezra grumbled, trudging towards the building. They were near the back of the building, Josiah had his gun aimed at the lock on the door, when they heard Buck's anguished cry and an explosion. Both men fired and Josiah kicked the door in, they wasted no time slipping inside and proceeding to their friend's side.
The federal agents, local law enforcement personnel and other brass all jumped with Mitchell Flushing's meaty fist hit the conference table, causing bodies, cups, soda cans and anything else not nailed down, to dance in the air. The contents of the file slid along the polished surface in front of a calm Orin Travis.
"I can't fuckin' believe this..." Flushing ranted, "You of all people should no better. Those overgrown juvenile deliquents you saw fit to give badges to..."
"...could wipe the floor with your finest," Orin interrupted, eyes flashing in a staid face. "... and we're wasting time. In this traffic, it's a thirty minute drive or better to that warehouse. I suggest you wipe that spit off your chin, change your depends and get moving."
Flushing didn't miss the snickering from several of the Mystic Cove police. He squared his shoulders and shot an index finger at the smug ATF director.
"This isn't over," Flushing sputtered, "I'll have Wilmington before a panel over this. His conduct has been deplorable."
"You don't wear the color green very well," Orin countered and rose to his feet, "and you couldn't carry Buck Wilmington's shoelaces, " he replied calmly, before turning to the others gathered. "You all have a copy of the map and an outline of the warehouse. We don't know what we're walking into, so be aware of the ramifications of your actions."
"What about a helicopter?" a voice from the back said.
"If required," Orin nodded, "and only after we're in place. We don't want to tip our hand, not with the lives of the hostages at stake. The coast guard is on call. Gentlemen, let's get to the dance."
The gentle movement of the water rocked the vessel like a large cradle. On the deck, the crates were waiting, their inhabitants skittering nervously inside. Inside, the remainder of the material was packed, along with over a dozen years of research, documented and cataloged. The water lapped against the boat, which was primed for it's trip south. While his partners tred far above on the rocks over his head, Vin Tanner's troubled sleep was interrupted by visions of centipede's stingers and headless torsos. Too weak to move a limb, he fought his battle alone, sopping wet head tossing fitfully. His chest heaved in time with the motion of the boat, while his eyes twitched under pale lids. At the height of the nightmare, wracked in pain, his lips parted ever so slightly.
"C...c...r...issssss..."
Buck ran haphazardly through the maze, tossing aside the mangled mannequin's limbs. His heart was pounding so hard, he grabbed his chest, fearing a heart attack. He felt along the mirrors, trying to uncover the illusion. Sweat poured down his face as his frantic eyes darted, adjusting to the darkness. Another explosion ahead of him, moved his limbs faster. He ran into a mirror, raising a lump on his cheek, when he was distracted by J.D.'s voice.
"Buck! Help... Buck... Buck... I need you..."
"Kid!" Buck screamed, kicking the mirror and shattering it.
"I'm touched," Jamie said, moving into the private viewing area above the action. "Much as I'd like to stay and chat, Gentlemen, duty calls. After disposing of that loathesome murderer," she pasued when a distinct growl emerged under Chris's gag. "Tsk... tsk... cat got your tongue, Dear?" She ran he hand along his face and smiled as he jerked his head free. "I shall miss you, you're a sexual predator, second to none. However, as I said, after Buck is blown up before your eyes." She grabbed J.D.'s face and laughed openly at the tears in his eyes. "I have a date down the coast with an Iranian and a Swiss banker. It's been real," she purred, sliding her hand up J.D.'s trembling thigh, "Don't bother thanking me for the front row seats, you won't be in them long. There's enough firepower under your pretty little asses to blow you to New York City."
She disappeared silently, leaving them once again alone. J.D.'s eyes were riveted to the floor below. He saw Buck scrambling through the maze, like a crazed rat. Chris wasn't watching, he focused all his attention on the ropes binding him. His body was fueling a slow fever; the added moisture was to his advantage. The sweat trickled down his back and arms, giving his wrists just the right amount of lubrication. Grunting in pain, as the sweat burning into the stripes on his back, he battled the ropes and felt the tide turning in his advantage.
"Anything?" Josiah called ahead in the large labyrinth. He jerked a door open and found another empty room. Boxes of video equipment lined the floor. He left and padded down further, pausing at Ezra's elbow.
"Good Lord..." Ezra swallowed hard, flipping the lights on. His eyes were glued to the table, his mind seeing pictures from CNN of Vin strapped to it, with a large centipede on his face. He felt every bit of the Texan's helplessness, looking at the leather straps. He stood over the table, noticing the large amount of blood upon it. "Someone was here, not to long ago."
"She's been a busy girl," Josiah commented, eyeing the lab and opening a door. "Hey Ez..."
He walked into the small room, which was set up as a hospital room. He picked up a chart on the floor and read the information on it. "Vin's vital signs..."
Buck's screams caused the men to run from the run, darting up the narrow hallway and into yet another corridor with many doors.
"Times up, Darling!" Jamie's voice halted the big man in his tracks. A series of explosions rocked the floor, sending Buck flying backwards into the nearest wall of mirrors. He covered his head and lay stunned, as bits and pieces of debris and body parts rained down on him.
Chris heard J.D's frantic muffled crie under the gag and lifted his head. He saw where Buck was laying and frowned. Something wasn't right. What was she up to? With a final thrust, he pulled his hand free and quickly untied his feet. He pulled the gag loose and stood, gripping the chair as the room swayed a bit. He ground his teeth against the pain and staggered over to J.D. He untied the youth and walked to the panel.
"Which one?" Chris hissed, eyeing the many buttons on the control board. When silence was his answer, he turned back, eyeing the shocked youth. The hazel eyes were trained past the room, onto the floor below and Buck's body. "He's not dead and that has me worried."
"What?" J.D. blinked, "What do you mean?"
"She's got this place loaded to blow us to kingdom come. That little sendoff wasn't it, something's missing. Which one, J.D.?" Chris demanded, hauling the youth by the arm, "How do I talk to Buck?"
Buck roused himself and opened his eyes, coughing as dust entered his lungs. He rubbed the stinging orbs and refocused.
"Shit!" He spat, shoving the rolling head of Chris Larabee away from him. He stood and shook his head clear, wincing slighly as his back pulled. The door... she ran out the door. She must have, it was the only way out. He headed for the lone door in the now exposed stage and laid a trembling hand on the knob.
It was then that Chris Larabee realized where the lethal amount of explosives were.
"That one, Chris, two over," he shouted at the moving blond's finger.
"Buck stop!" Chris screamed loud enough to wake the dead.
"Jesus!" Buck fell backwards, shaking all over from the floor. He raised his dazed face to the area above him. "Chris? You okay?"
"Fuck no!" Chris vented, "I'm pissed."
"Uh-oh..." Buck whispered of the legendary Larabee wrath.
"She's got that door rigged with a bomb, a big one." Chris eyed the exposed wiring above the door which ran across the ceiling and around the room. "The whole place is wired... and loaded with fireworks. We need the bomb squad and backup. Ez and Josiah with you?"
"Yeah, they're in here somewhere," Buck eyed the darkness above. "Where are you?"
"Up here, double glass, you can't see us." Chris pushed a button and the door opened to the floor below.
"Us?" Buck stood. "J.D.?" His heart soared.
"He's scratched up and dented, but salvagable," Chris replied, getting an angry glare from the youngest.
"You make me sound like a damn leftover at a firesale..." he complained as Chris gave him a pat on the back.
"You update Buck," Chris ordered, "You find a phone and get the cops down here and a bomb squad. You tell them the meeting place with the Iranians." Chris pushed the panel he'd seen her push and a wall slid open. "Kennedy is still in here, so keep your eyes open. I want him, J.D.!"
"Not as much as I do..." the other spat back, kicking the chair over. "Where are you going?"
"To skin that bitch alive!" Chris vowed, heading into the dark tunnel. Before J.D. could reply, the wall slid shut again.
"Kid?"
"Bu..." J.D. started to reply, but found his air cut off by a broad chest. He sagged in Buck's arms, as the many days of his torturous trip came to an exhausting climax. He didn't mind that the strong arms were crushing the air through his burning painful ribs. For once, he didn't mind the large hand was ruffling his damp hair. He didn't stop the tears from spilling or the choked sob that crept out of his throat.
Buck couldn't say a word, every attempt died in this throat. He hung on to J.D. like a lifeline, not denying the confused sensation of euphoria and fear that gripped him. He felt every bit of sinew and bone and embraced the spirit that was J.D. Dunne.
"...ccnnt brthhd bck... ltgg.."
"What?" Buck choked, swallowing the lump in his throat and wiping an eye.
"I can't breathe!" J.D. gasped, pushing away from the large body.
"Where's Chris?" Buck asked, eyeing the empty room.
"He went after her." J.D. answered.
"How?" Buck perplexed, "He didn't pass me."
"A secret panel, over there somewhere." J.D. winced, realizing he had no idea what Chris pushed. "I'm sorry Buck, I didn't see how he opened it."
"That's okay, Kid," Buck pushed the bruised body towards the door. "We gotta find Ezra and Josiah before they go near that door. Come on."
"Buck, how'd you get here so fast?" J.D. asked as they jogged down the stairs. He felt every vibration and had to pause, when the pain go too bad.
"Vin called last night," Buck stopped and waited for his younger friend to catch up. He flinched at the ray of hope in the youth's eyes.
"Vin's alive?" J.D. gasped, "I knew it... Buck you can't believe what she did to him... we had to watch. It was awful, some fuckin' centipede loaded up..."
"Yeah, I know, Kid." Buck eyed the large room, ducking the hazel eyes.
"What's wrong?" J.D. demanded, grabbing Buck's arm. "Oh God, he's dead?"
"We're not sure, but it don't look good. A witness saw him head under the boards after the phone call. They had high tide last night..."
"No, you're wrong!" J.D. shoved the comforting arm away.
"Look J.D.," Buck started, "I don't..."
His sentence was cut off by a bullet that narrowly missed his head. He shoved J.D. on the floor and covered him with his body.
"It's Tony..." J.D. clenched.
"Where?" Buck whispered, eyeing the darkness.
"There!" J.D. pointed, as a fleeing figure moved towards the wall. Sunlight cut into the room briefly, before disappearing again.
"Ezra! Josiah!" Buck screamed. "Where the fuck are you?" He demanded, hauling J.D. upright. "Kennedy headed out front. I'm going after him. J.D.'s with me. Don't go near the door, it's rigged , the whole room's wired. Get the bomb squad. Chris went after Jamie," he hoped his friends heard him. He ushered J.D. to the spot he'd seen Kennedy in and eyed the old window. With little effort, he heaved it open and a bullet sailed by, nicking his arm. He watched until Tony's back was turned, the large body heading for the car. He climbed out and pulled J.D. with him, sitting the youth on the ground behind a trash dumpster.
Tony was about to turn the ignition, when a hand clamped on his throat. He went for the gun, but a karate chop to his larynx ended that move. The door opened and he was pulled out, face to face with an irate man bent on revenge. His lack of air drove him to his knees. He clutched his throat and doubled over, only to have his head pulled up by the hair.
"Get up," Buck growled, tucking the discarded on the roof of the car. He flexed his hands, his fingers tingled with anticipation. A small trickle of blood ran from the graze on his arm. "Kid, get over here."
J.D. limped painfully towards the car, sitting his aching bones down on an overturned crate. One hand rested across his throbbing chest. He raised his pained eyes at Buck, then watched Tony get to his feet.
"Pay attention, Son," Buck kept his eyes on J.D. as his fist connected with Tony's face, "... maybe you'll learn something."
Tony grunted and tried to fall, but Buck wouldn't be denied. "That was for Frank," he grilled, using a double combination. A right to the stomach and a left uppercut to the jaw, sent the kidnapper to his knees. "That was for Chris Larabee you bastard." Buck growled, putting his hands together to form a crude club. He slammed it into Kennedy's back, driving him to the ground. He then kicked the lower back, and drank in the cry of pain. "That was for J.D. Dunne and this," He picked up the bleeding mess of bones with his left hand and slammed his right fist into the face, breaking several bones. "is for me."
J.D.'s face paled under his bruises. He'd never seen Buck like this and hoped he'd never see the display again. It scared him to think his best friend could turn into a killing machine. Tony's face looked like raw hamburger and was covered in blood. It soaked his shirt and his arms hung limply by his sides.
"Buck... he's had it..." J.D. warned, afraid Buck was going to kill him and lose his badge.
"The hell he has," Buck snarled, bringing the sack of flesh up again. "I haven't even started my i-n-t-e-r-o-g-a-t-i-o-n," he drew the word out and smiled evilly. "This," he growled, eyes glowing lethally, "is for Vin Tanner, you mother fuckin' son-of-a-bitch," he slammed Tony head first into the passenger side window of the car, leaving a bloody smear on the cracked glass. He picked up the gun and knelt by the body, which was splayed on the ground on his back. "Where's she headed?" Buck demanded, waving the gun.
"...gonna kill me..." Tony gasped, spitting blood on the dirt. "I'm not armed... you can't..."
Buck laughed outright, loud and bold, giving J.D. a real chill. The youth paled, truly fearing Buck's mind had snapped.
"How 'bout that, J.D.?" He inquired, turning to the stunned youth. "He thinks I want to kill him, now that's funny. It's fuckin' hilarious..." Buck turned, firing the gun into Tony's kneecap. He enjoyed the scream and wild eyes looking up at him. "Oppps... sorry, my hand must have slipped." Buck crowed, cupping his ear. "What's that? I didn't hear that location? Be a real shame if my hand slipped again... what with you having another knee, two elbows and uh... uh... " Buck jammed the gun hard into Tony's groin, getting another yelp of pain, "...a pair of peanuts..."
"S..s...south..." Tony stammered, "...ten miles south, five miles off coast. She's got a boat in the cove..meeting Iranians... Amahl something... she's... she's... selling him the centipedes and... and... other stuff..." He pleaded, feeling the gun still pressed against his groin. "Don't hurt me... please..."
"You make me sick," Buck spat, "I bet Vin didn't beg... not once. I bet even when that fuckin' thing was walking on his face, he kept his balls. You fuckin' yellow-bellied scum..." Buck slammed the gun into Tony's head and his hand quivered. He saw J.D. covered by snakes and heard Tony laugh; he saw Vin strapped to a table with that thing on him and heard Tony laugh. His fingers twitched, itching to move. He was choking on endless waves of rage that consumed him. He didn't realize he was shaking so bad, until he felt a tug on his sleeve.
"You can't kill him."
"Why the hell not?" Buck said, turning to meet the new voice.
Ezra laid a hand on the tense shoulder and chose his words carefully. He and Josiah witnessed most of the fearsome display.
"For one thing, I do not intend to spent my free time shuttling back here to visit you in prison. For another, you still owe me a considerable amount of money, for plane tickets and rental car fees and..." He stopped as soon as the tension began to ease up on the muscle under his touch. "..and it's what separates you from him," he nodded to the pile of refuse at his feet. The dark blue eyes met his green ones and he saw the signs of normalcy return. He left out a breath as Buck sighed and dropped his head. He gave one strong tug to the shoulder and turned back to Josiah. "I'll wait here with Mr. Dunne for the local authorities. You two see if you can locate our missing leader."
Ezra said, as Josiah herded Buck towards the car.
"Buck?" J.D. limped painfully towards Buck, eyes drawn to the bruised fists. "You okay, Buck?" he asked quietly, the wind lifting his hair. "You scared me..."
"I am now," Buck took a deep breath, inhaling the salt air. He sighed and gripped the back of the youth's neck. "I know, I feel it too," he said of the tight band on his chest. He stared hard at the young agent and didn't hide the tone of his voice. "I'm proud of you, John Daniel," he choked, swallowing hard. He saw the flush of color under the bruises and cuffed the cheek once lightly, before heading for the car.
"We need a boat," Josiah said, sliding behind the wheel.
"Yeah," Buck sighed, bringing the past up again, "I know a place. There's a hidden dirt path off this main one, it leads out to the marina. Let's get moving, before Flushing gets here."
The fact that the explosion hadn't sounded yet had her worried, but she had to leave or she'd miss her payoff. Besides Tony was there and would kill Wilmington himself, if worse got to worse. She jumped onto the deck of the boat and untied the lines. She moved over to the controls, checked her map and fingered the route once. Nodding, she flipped the switch and the motor came to life.
"Only place you're going is to Hell, Bitch!"
"What?" she spun around, shocked to see Chris Larabee behind her on the deck of the twenty-six foot motorboat. She shoved the throttle and the boat lurched, sending the unstable man crashing to the deck. She kicked him hard in the lower back, the cry of pain giving her some time. She accelerated and moved the boat out of the cove. As they headed into open water, she glanced back at Larabee, who wasn't moving. Not satisfied, she eyed the crates lined up and recalled the gun she'd left there.
As the red curtain of pain dissolved and Chris got he breath back, he opened his eyes. Through blurred vision he saw her legs move past and shot his hand out. He rolled over and clawed at her thighs, then found a fist to his eye. He managed to get to his knees and slam her back, sending her hand onto the deck. He hit her head again and then staggered to the controls, bringing the errant speeding vehicle to a stop. He flipped the lights on, picked up the radio and pushed the red button.
"May... day... May... may... day..." he gasped, feeling his legs turning to rubber. "Larabee... ATF ag...agent. Twenty... twenty-five foot boat off Mystic Cove... need help... need..."
"Chris?" Buck grabbed the radio of the boat they'd borrowed. Josiah flashed his badge and told the owner to call the police and give their location. Buck just stormed on board and started the motor, doing an eery impression of Chris Larabee. They couldn't see them yet, but it was dark.
"Buck?" Chris said as the radio slipped from his grip. He suddenly found himself on his knees. He glanced at the deck and didn't see her body. "Shit..." he pushed himself up painfully and lunged forward. She'd moved towards the crates and he saw the reason. They both hit the deck at the same time, his body landing ontop of her back. They grunted and rolled, exchanging blows. The gun slid free and both hands reached for it, the motion send it skittering across the deck. The next moment took both combatants by surprise. So shocked, they paused, each gasping in wide-eyed amazement. Chris recovered first, his hoarse, heartfelt cry split the night air.
"Vin!"
The boat swayed to and fro, only adding to the shocking apparition. Chris felt his heart slamming into his chest wall. The green eyes couldn't believe the vision before them. On his hands and knees at the top of the stairs leading below, was a bedraggled Texan. The long hair hung limply over his face and the horrid sucking sounds indicated the severe breathing problem. But he was alive and ten feet away, and that was enough for Chris Larabee.
"Vin, pick up the gun. Vin! Vin!" Chris cried out, but the body never moved. Jamie went to move and Chris slammed her again, sending both of them prone on the deck.
Vin stared at his fingers curiously. His eyes widened and narrowed at the way they were pressed to the floor. He cocked his head and heard voices, but couldn't understand them. He'd been dreaming and thought he heard Chris call. He crawled up the stairs seeking his friend and his body now was almost topside. Something was touching his hand. He brushed his fingers on the metal and the shape took form.
"Gun?" he coughed, asking himself in a strange voice.
"Yeah Vin, that's it." Chris exalted, then his smile slowly faded. Vin hadn't heard him and didn't appear to be aware. "Vin! Dammit look at me!"
"Huh?" Vin's body jerked as a loud voice hit his aching head. The sound cut into his temples like a saw. "...hurts..." he cried out, falling forward and clutching his face. "...loud..."
Chris avoided the raspy plea and screamed louder, knowing Vin held both their lives in his hand. "Vin, sit up... now!"
"...kay... tryin'... s'hard... hurts..." Vin slurred, sucked in a breath as he sat up. The gun wobbled woefully in his weak hand and he squinted into the dark fog. Two bodies were across from him. He rubbed his eyes and the buzzing sounds in his ears became words.
"...shoot... her... Vin... Vin... me... Cowboy..."
Chris saw the change as soon as the word left his lips. The shaggy head popped up, the eyes widened in recognition. The lower lip quivered and a lazy tongue slid out. Two hands gripped the gun and raised it, shaking badly.
Vin blinked, wondering if the loud buzzing sounds were real. He raised the gun and stared hard.
The last word hit him like a rocket, making his chest ache. Suddenly, the blurry male had blond hair and Vin's heart clenched.
"...rissss...." he whispered hopefully.
"Yeah, Vin, it's me." Chris replied, trying desperately to block out the plea in the lost voice.
"Sorry to bust up your tender reunion," Jamie elbowed Chris in the throat and knelt up, grabbing his head by the hair. "Give me the gun or I'll kill him, Vin."
"No... kill... him..." Vin pledged, raising the gun. It shook horridly and she laughed. Chris felt an anger rising and grit his teeth over the pain in his body.
"Shoot her, Vin," he ordered, fixing his eyes on the lost blue ones.
"...can't..." Vin denied, worrying about his blurred vision. Now there were four bodies instead of two in front of him and he didn't know what to do.
"Do it," Chris commanded, sending all his confidence to the shaken man in his voice. "Now!"
Vin reacted on faith, letting Chris's voice guide him. He fired and fell forward, the gun flying from his grasp.
Chris groaned when the shot went wide and her foot made contact with his knee. She scrambled over him and got the gun.
"Foolish boy," she laughed at the pathetic huddled mass on the deck.
Chris felt that anger rising again, rearing it's head like a deadly snake. It boiled inside of him, churning and whirling at a deadly speed. He eyed Vin curled up in a ball and heard her laughing at him. That was her fatal mistake. The boiling rage spilled over, turning his steam of fury into a blistering vaporous mist.
"Get away from him, you fuckin' bitch!" Chris hurled, pulling his body up. Then he saw the gun directed at Vin's head and screamed.
"No!" His voice and body moved in one fluid motion, covering his fallen friend. The bullet slammed into his left shoulder, but he never moved. He kept Vin under him, not letting an inch of the Texan visible. He snaked a hand out and grabbed her ankle, sending her spiraling backwards. She shot errantly, hitting the area behind him. Chris didn't have to turn to know she'd hit the engine. He pushed off of Vin and she fired again, hitting the controls and sending a shower of sparks in the air. He felt a blade near his hand and pulled the grappling hook from it's perch. With a warrior's call, he sprung forward, slamming the hook into her and skewering her to the deck. He disregarded the scream and blood foaming from her lips.
The momentum took him to the deck and he coughed harshly, trying to get his breath. The sky spun above him at a dizzying pace, making his stomach lurch. The smell of burning wiring and spilled fuel moved his body. He crawled over to Vin, snatching the only orange lifejacket available. He pulled Vin's prone body up, trying to ignore the pain pouring from the wound on his shoulder. He slid the slack arms in the holes and tied the ropes haphazardly. Smoke swirled nearby and he groaned, realizing Vin was dead weight and he couldn't lift him. The Texan was in front of him, he back resting against Chris's chest.
"Vin!" he coughed, biting his lip at the pain in his throbbing shoulder. "VIN, Wake up... We gotta go."
"Go?" Vin slurred, his heavy eyes remaining closed.
"Yeah," Chris grunted, trying to lift himself and then on unsteady legs, lift Vin. He ended up back on the deck, Vin draped over his legs. He righted the sharpshooter and tried again. "VIN, this boat is gonna blow up and I can't carry you. Goddammit, get up!" he screamed and felt the shaking form's shoulders jump.
The loud buzzing sound came back and made his head hurt. He whimpered and tried to cover his ears, but he couldn't move his arms. The words appeared slowly and it took all his concentration to understand them. Chris was mad. The angry voice was shouting at him. What had he done?
"...sorry... risss..." Vin whispered, head lolling on his chest, "...do wrong?"
"Damn," Chris gasped, feeling such a terrific pain in his chest it took his breath away. Tears pooled in his eyes, brought on by the lost soul. The confused, hurt voice hit him like a hail of bullets. He used his right arm to pull Vin back against him, the sopping head resting under his chin. He snaked his hand under the tee shirt and felt the heart hammering furiously against the hot chest wall. He didn't need a thermometer to know how dangerous Vin's fever was. He let the moment pass and pushed the strong emotional party away. "Well then, Cowboy," he vowed, drawing his last bit of energy into a forceful mass, "I guess I'll be strong enough for both of us."
By some miracle, he dragged Vin's arm across his shoulder and hauled him upright, gasping as the pain shot through his shoulder. He lurched forward, sending both of them into the side of the boat. He pushed Vin's body onto the rail and gripped his waist. He caught the confused eyes and held them with his own.
"The boat's on fire, Vin, we gotta go. You got a life jacket on, you can't drown. I'm gonna push you over into the water. I'll be right behind you." He started to move and saw the blue slits dart and felt a hand clamp onto his arm in panic. "I won't leave you, I promise. I'll be right behind you," he answered the silent plea. "Trust me." That's all it took, the tangled head bobbed once and Chris shoved him over. He was ready to join his friend, when a voice beckoned.
"You can't leave me here," Jamie begged, her chest covered in blood. It poured from her mouth with each word. She saw him turn and his face soften, and her hopes raised.
"No," Chris replied, eyeing the crate near his feet. "I won't leave you alone. What's a sendoff party without some friends?" His fevered mind gave his voice a sing-song quality. He lifted the small crate over her face and tilted the top. The scream and look of absolute horror on her face gave him a guilty pleasure. The centipedes swarmed on her. One crawled in her ear, another latched it's hooks onto the wound in her side, a third crawled into her mouth as she screamed. As the flames licked the floor and he hooked his lean body onto the rail, he saw one on her face, it's razorlike pinchers spearing an eyeball. He jumped and swam to where Vin was bobbing. He hooked his injured arm around Vin's throat and began to swim. The explosion drowned out her screams and sent debris flying. Chris fell the concussion hit him hard and he blacked out, clinging to Vin.
"Josiah!" Buck screamed, seeing the fireball ahead. "Can't you make this go faster?"
"You pushed it too hard, Buck, the engine's smoking." Sanchez replied. "The coast guard isn't far... Buck? Buck, you can't..." The preacher sighed and shook his head as the body dove off the boat and began to swim. "...swim after him," he concluded and picked up the radio.
Buck's long strokes were propelled by fear. It drove him forward at a record rate. He paused when he began to hit debris and let his eyes adjust to the pieces floating nearby.
"Chris! Chris!" he screamed, searching every piece.
Vin's eyes opened in wonderment, as the sky lit up. The colors were beautiful; spirals of red, blue and white making patterns in the night. They made spiderwebs and flying wheels of flame. Fireworks? His fuzzy mind showed him the word 'holiday'.
"Fourth..." he murmured, eyeing the sky in childlike wonder. "...pretty lights... Chris..." he felt the body next to him moving away. The head was limp and sinking under the water. "No... go... no..."
He pulled the wet hair and the head popped back up.
"Shit!" Chris pulled his face from the water and grabbed Vin. He retained his hold and used his good arm to propel them towards the shore, which wasn't far away. Twenty feet... nineteen feet... he kept his eyes zoned on the shore, but his limbs failed him. Twice, he blacked out, taking them both under. His arms were heavy and his eyes dull. He mind was willing but his body was beyond the limit. His arms and legs were made of concrete.
In this space and time, Vin's fevered brain allowed him a moment of clarity. He knew what Chris was trying to do and why it wouldn't work. Alone, he had a chance, but he couldn't pull both of them. He gazed at the rockets in the distance, bursting into shades of pale green and gold. He thought of the words another man wrote not far from here, two hundred odd years before. A poem that had become the national anthem. The fiery glow from the burning boat gave his face an ethreal glow. He took the jacket off and used his last ounce of strength to slide Chris's limp arms inside. The blond head popped up and the eyes blinked at him.
"What the hell are you doing?" Chris slurred, trying to shake himself awake.
"Ya gave me more..." Vin pulled Chris close, hanging onto the vest, "than I dreamed o'... but I gotta go alone now. Ya can't come with me, Chris."
Chris's eyes fought to stay open and his thick tongue worked in his mouth. His keen gaze realized that Vin was completely sober and clear. He frowned at the cryptic clues, his mind denying what he heart heard.
"...I ain't gonna be far, ya call me and I'll come..." Vin coughed as his head slipped, sending him under the water up to his eyes.
"Vin!" Chris hissed trying to figure out why his own arms were like lead and wouldn't move. He relaxed a bit when the head popped up again.
"Ya won't be able t'see me, but I'll be right here, Cowboy, always..." Vin sighed, and thumped a limp hand against Chris's chest. "It's the Twilight's last gleamin'...goodb..." his voice choked, preventing the finale and he turned away, his blue eyes full. He eyed the shore, and gave Chris a solid push towards land.
"What?" Chris's eyes snapped open as the words hit his brain. "Gleaming..." he fumbled, his brain flashing slowly. A brief shining light... he jerked his head frantically, not able to see Vin anymore. "No..." he whispered, fingering the vest. "... no... " he choked. His body was consumed with a leaden bleakness; an emptiness that make his heart ache dully and induced a cold quivering in his belly. He raised his head skyward and unleashed a cry of pain and desolation, as his soul shattered.
"Vin!"
"Holy Christ," Buck panted, hearing the unearthly call. He spotted a blond head bobbing and swam with all his might. He snaked a strong arm around the lolling head and pulled him to the shore. They were shin deep, he was carrying Chris, when the body jerked and shoved him away.
"No... Vin..." Chris protested and collapsed, trying to reenter the surf.
"He's gone, Chris... they lost him yesterday," Buck's heart was breaking at the anguish on Larabee's pale features.
"No, he's right there... on boat... I put this on him," Chris raised his face up weakly to Buck, "Don't you understand? He took it off... put it on me... fuckin' hard-headed Texan. I gotta find..." He tried to move, but his limbs wouldn't work. "No... not like this... not after... no..." he mumbled incoherently, tears sliding down his face.
"Aw, hell..." Buck choked, not sure what to do. Chris must have been delirious. "I'm sorry, Chris..." he pulled the leader to the shore and laid him on the bank.
"There!" Chris lurched, "...he is... there..." he struggled against the strong arms that held him.
"What?" Buck jerked his head. He peered intently and saw a brief head surface, then disappear. "Shit! Aw, shit..." he ran back in the water.
Chris sucked the agony in and hauled his throbbing head up. It was only a few inches, but it took all the strength he had. He watched Buck's strong strides take him back into the water and saw the lean body disappear beneath the surf. He wasn't a religious man, but now he prayed. He prayed to hear that raspy voice that drove him to distraction. He prayed to see those blue eyes shining in mischief again. He prayed that his soul would be restored. He prayed through eyes burning with tears that now scoured the horizon, seeking two bodies.
Vin watched the exploding lights in the sky until they got blurry. All of a sudden, he felt so very light, as if his body were weightess. He relaxed and let himself go, enjoying the sensation. His head didn't hurt anymore and he decided it was time to let his body sleep.
Buck eyed the dark surf and found the spot where the head disappeared. He dove under, propelling his legs downward. He swam until his lungs grew fiery, threatening to burst. He turned back, his oxygen deprived body seeking air. Then his fingers brushed something soft and firm. Skin. His hand jerked and he found hair, lots of it. He grabbed it and shot forward, breaking the surf and pulling Vin with him. He turned the body over and tilted the face up, tucking him under his left arm. He took several huge gasps of air and then made his way to shore.
He dropped down next to Chris, who jerked as if shocked when Vin's body hit the beach with a thud. Buck cough and sputtered for a few seconds, gulping air greedily. Then he saw headlights, as a Jeep pulled up at the top of the sandy road. Two young men got out and headed towards them, with a flashlight.
"He's not breathing!" Buck flipped Vin over and tilted his head back. He opened Vin's mouth and cleared his airway.
"You know CPR?" Chris gasped, pain shooting through his shoulder.
"Sure," The older one moved forward, until his buddy jerked him back.
"No way," he denied, turning to his friend. "You can't, he's the dude from TV, you know the one carrying the plague."
"Shit!" the other hissed, backtracking. "Hey man, I got a new baby at home..."
"You son-of-a-bitch," Chris roared, swaying on his knees.
"Chris!" Buck screamed, breaking Larabee's glare. "I need you, Vin needs you. Start pumping." Buck commanded, placing his mouth over Vin's open one and giving him the breath of life.
"Leave the fuckin' light, get on the phone and get some help!" Chris ordered the two bodies.
"Sure, sure man..." The older one dropped the light and pulled out his cell phone.
"That dude's crazy," his friend whispered, "Just signed his own death warrant."
Chris ignored the pain in his shoulder that was fired up with every motion. He continued to pump Vin's chest, ignoring the blood running down his face. He glanced at Buck's dark head and worried. What if they were too late? Would that bitch claim two victims? He shook off his fear and continued his activity. Buck's head came up and he watched the other gasp for air. He paused, swiped the blood from his face and took a few unsteady breaths.
"Wanna switch?" He asked and saw a hand fly out in defense.
"No!" Buck coughed, trying to get his breath. The long swim over, coupled with the one to rescue Vin had taken all his strength.
Chris knew what Buck meant and swallowed hard. He saw Buck tenderly reach down and brush the tangled hair from Vin's face. He eyed the face clouded with emotion and felt proud. Buck never hesitated and he'd never forget that. He only prayed both men would be around so he could tell them.
Buck eyed the pale face of the young Texan and decided he'd never seen Vin so close up and relaxed. He never noticed just how fine his features were. He brushed and errant lock of hair from the slack face and felt his heart clench. The suffocating sorrow turned in a wall of raging pain. He gripped Vin's wet collar and lifted his upper body, shaking him hard.
"Don't you die on me, you stubborn son-of-a-bitch. Breathe!" he roared.
"Buck... don't..." Chris's voice wavered as a horrid cloud of reality sank over them.
"Goddammit Vin," Buck shoved Chris's hand away, "Open your eyes!"
"Jesus," Chris gasped and fell back stunned, as two large blue eyes popped open and a loud shuddering breath was heard.
"Damn... damn..." Buck sighed, feeling euphoric. He brought Vin back against him, supporting him while the smaller man rid himself of half the ocean. Buck felt the terrific trembling and was so overcome by the powerful event, he couldn't speak. He held Vin tight, tucking the Texan's back against his chest. He rested his chin on the wet, tangled hair and let his tears of gratitude fall.
"Vin?" Chris's hoarse and heartfelt voice wavered as his hand reached out. "You with us?"
Vin was lost in a dark place. A cold void full of shadowing fear and blue confusion. Was this another dream? Chris wasn't real, was he? He couldn't stop shaking and his teeth were dancing. He felt the hand on his face and pulled back, his heart began to hammer and he shook his head in denial.
"Damn," Chris flinched, seeing the confused face before him. Vin had no idea where he was or what was happening. His eyes were dull with pain and clouded with uncertainty He sighed heavily and tried again. "Vin, it's okay, you're safe now. Buck's gotcha and I'm right here." He paused, gulping several breaths of much needed air and pushing the wall of blackness away again.
"Take it easy, Slick," Buck soothed, feeling the terrific trembling. He pulled Vin closer, hoping to ward that internal chill of fear off the suffering man. "You gave us a good scare."
Chris heard sirens wailing and sighed in relief. He kept his hand on Vin's cheek and tapped it lightly. "Hear that, Vin? Help's on the way. You're gonna be fine. I'm gonna be right next to you."
Vin cocked his head and leaned into the touch. It was more than reassuring. He felt his tremors slowing down and tried to concentrate on the words. He didn't understand him all, but his mind flashed one word, 'safe'. He slowed his breathing down and began to relax.
"That's it," Buck eased, feeling the change. He saw the flash of pain on Chris's face and noticed the bloody hole in the left shoulder, then he saw the large area of crimson hair. "How bad?"
"Hurts like a bitch," Chris grinned, pulling his hand back to pull himself up a little better. His smile faded when Vin reacted.
It changed that fast. 'Safe' was gone. His heart began to hammer and it was hard to breathe. The uncontrollable trembling followed and his breathing faltered. Another word came, the word that 'safe' meant.
"What the hell happened?" Buck wondered, feeling the change.
"Chris!" Vin gasped, blinking wildly.
"Easy, Cowboy," Chris kept his voice calm and gripped the back of Vin's neck. "You can't lose me that fast." He watched Vin blinking and staring at him hard. He saw the eyes widen in shock and then realized Vin was aware. The trembling hand came out and touched his face. Chris swallowed a waver and fought to control his emotions. "I'm real, Vin and I won't leave you. Buck's here too."
Vin tilted his head, feeling the strong arms holding him and snaked his eyes backwards. A flash of white teeth, a wet mustache and dark hair met his blurry gaze. He righted himself, snuggling backwards and opened his lips.
"...cklin?"
It was only half of the nickname that meant so much to him, but it still could gut him like a fish. He smiled and ruffled the damp hair.
"You look like shit, Vin."
"...ya fuck... buck... ya buck... fuck..." Vin stumbled, angry that he couldn't get his usual comeback out. "...aw, hell..." He heard the twin voices laughing and felt an overwhelming sadness come over him. He grew very cold and began to shake uncontrolably. The melancholic dagger ripped through his chest and freed his scattered emotions. He began to cry and didn't know why. He felt Buck pull him closer and Chris move in, resting a hand on his cheek.
"You go ahead, Vin," Buck's voice was warm and low, full of emotion. "You earned it."
Vin let his clouded gaze fall to Chris, whose hand was brushing the tears away. He saw so much in the green eyes and wanted desperately to hold on. He felt himself slipping away and the cold fear came back.
"Chris!" he panicked, eyes darting frantically. His hands jerked spasmatically, clawing air. He felt the hand cup his chin hard and stop the quivering.
"You won't die," Chris vowed, reading the fearful eyes. "I won't let you. You got my word."
That was good enough for Vin. He felt the protective shield close in, a strong gold armor that glittered in the sun. The lock on the haven was a brilliant green and it's strength gave him peace. He felt his eyes close and his last thought snuck through his pale lips.
"...safe harbor..."
Carolyn Wolfe eyed the clock on the wall over the fax machine and sighed. Two more hours until her shift was over. Three to eleven wasn't her normal shift, but the holiday brought in extra bodies and that meant additional paperwork. She continued to read the lastest concerns from the nurses about the projected cost of living raise. The administrative offices were on the first floor of the new building. She was reaching for the spreadsheet she'd printed out, which listed the ratio of nurses who left for the better paying hospitals in the surrounding communities. The phone rang and then she noticed it was the hot line. Her phone had a bank of extensions on it, direct lines to several of the other departments and a special number reserved for emergencies.
"Carolyn Wolfe, can I help you?" She stood and immediately reached for a tablet of paper. "Yes... how soon? How many? Yes, I did receive that notice from your office and I understand the ramifications. Are you familiar with this facility?" She paused and kept writing. "We just moved to a brand, new five-story addition three weeks ago. The old hospital is right next store, the ER would be the perfect choice. I'll make the arrangements..." she kept nodding and writing. "Here's my cell phone and beeper..."
She hung up the phone and took a few seconds to catch her breath, then she dialed Mark Cressman, the CEO of St. Michaels to update him. She then contacted the switchboard. The operator, Judy, answered on the first ring.
"Judy, it's Carolyn, I just got a call from Colonel Blackburn at AMRIID, we're going to be getting some casualities in from that manhunt. They've been exposed to a potentiallly deadly disease. I want you to call a 'yellow alert'. Yes, follow the protocol just as we do in the drills, conference Room C," she answered of the meeting place and grabbed a large green file from the top shelf. "Thanks Judy." She hung up and moved towards the conference room, punching numbers in her phone.
"Houskeeping," a voice answered.
"Dan?"
"Yeah, this is..." the supervisor for housekeeping paused as the voice on the intercom announced the alert. "...didn't know we were having a drill."
"It's no drill, Dan, it's real. This is Carolyn Wolfe from Admin." She flipped the lights of the conference room on and dropped the folder on the table. "I need you to meet a Colonel Blackburn at the entrance of the Old ER, I'll have Stan Shaw meet you over there," she said of the security guard on duty. "You are to give the Colonel whatever he wants and needs... and he needs it ASAP. The Colonel is from the Army's Infectious Disease Center and his team will be taking over the Old Emergency Room."
"Is this about that guy that killed the cop... that sick Fed?"
"Yes, now please get over there, the Colonel is already on his way, ETA is less than ten minutes."
After calling security and notifiying the guards at the gate, she turned her attention to the group spilled around the table. Representatives from every department were waiting for the cause of the alarm. She took a deep breath, opened the folder and began to speak.
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