"We'll get'im brother…we'll get'im," Josiah didn't bother touching Larabee. The man had already killed today. Had already stepped across that boundary that they had been trained to ignore when the time came. A lesson not many could or were willing to learn. Chris had done it. Done it to save the life of a friend. Now he just lost another friend.
Josiah didn't touch him, not out of fear of what Chris would do to him, but what his touch would do to Larabee. They needed him sharp, focused. Buck was gone; Standish ripped from them; Vin's condition an unknown. Touching Larabee now, would be like grabbing a shorting high voltage wire.
If they were to stop the violent jerk of emotion or electricity, they first had to find the source of the problem. They needed to get Standish back.
Chris was right. Hughes' man was a dead man.
Josiah looked longingly at Dunne. The kid walked toward and then shied away from an unseen spot on the ground. Sanchez watched as the young man tried to approach his prone friend only to stop abruptly, unwilling to acknowledge the death that lay at his feet.
The boy was truly a boy now, and lost. Frightfully lost.
Chris left Josiah and started toward Buck in ground swallowing strides. He crossed the stream and the short distance to the curtain of Ferns that hid the body. Larabee pushed JD out of the way and knelt down. With a steady determined hand, Larabee felt for a pulse. He did not look to Wilmington's face, did not stare at the body that lay flat out ensconced in greenery. Instead, the leader of team seven bore his gaze up the wooded slope in the direction that one of his agents had been dragged. Torn away from him and his very protection. He let one man down, one friend dead and now another lost.
Blood drooled from the corner of Buck's mouth, his eyes stared blankly up at the canopy of trees. One leg lay twisted under the other, his arms were flung out from his sides. He appeared dead.
Larabee waited….and waited. He cursed. JD teared beside him, fighting his own rushing emotions.
Then he felt it. A bump. A solid bump. A long wait and then another one. And finally a breath.
"He's alive." Chris pushed himself to his feet. He briefly faced his two agents and then started up the slope, "JD, stay with him."
JD stood quietly staring at the ground. "He's alive…he's alive….he's alive," the soft mantra slowly sunk into a shock muddled brain.
The young agent finally focused on Josiah. Sanchez was fumbling with the protective vest Buck wore under his shirt.
"JD?" Sanchez looked up at the young man. "You ok?"
"Chris needs help getting' Ezra…He ain't gonna watch his own back."
"I'll stay with Buck….you go with Chris." Sanchez reached up and grabbed JD's tense arm, "Son? You up for this?"
JD paused and thought about it. He slowly nodded his head, growing confident with each second, "Yeah, Josiah….yeah, I am," Dunne looked back down at his fallen friend, "Buck's alive." His soft mutterance didn't go unnoticed.
"Yeah, JD he is," Josiah gently nudged the younger man in the direction Standish had disappeared.
Dunne took off after Larabee.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~'
Ezra tripped and would have fallen if the man beside him wasn't keeping a death grip on his arm. They continued to run up hill. Each step pushed more blood from the wound. Each step delivered them further from Buck's body.
Ezra fought for breath, fought the hitching sobs that stole his breath away.
He wanted to feel numb, needed it. It hadn't happened. Where was the cold numbness he had heard about, the deadly shock that dulled the brain? Instead, sharp clear pictures blitzed his mind…Larabee's enraged declaration rang in his ears. He couldn't shake them.
Nausea rolled through him like a storm surge.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~'
Chris sprinted up the mountain side. He ran, bringing his knees up high, taking ground swallowing strides.
He did not hear anyone follow him. After a few yards, with no sign of his quarry in sight, with his chest burning like a stoked fire, the steepness of the incline finally forced him to a walk.
He cursed his ineffectualness, cursed his lack of physical endurance, not realizing that he had covered a distance and a climb that would leave most Olympians yards behind.
The leader of Team Seven gazed over his shoulder when someone scrambled breathlessly up beside him.
Dunne.
Chris noticed his agent and nodded once in acknowledgement.
The two men continued on side by side. Josiah would be calling in the Calvary.
The two men continued up the slope. JD matched Chris step for step, movement for movement, mimicking the older man.
~~~~~~~~~~~~'
The bodyguard made it to the top of the mountain and got his bearings. He knew where he would lead them next. If he could just keep the lead he would get them out of this forsaken forest and back to civilization,-- his turf. No one would find him once he hit pavement.
Manny snapped his head up when he heard the hounds. "Shit!" This had gotten out of control. The slap of helicopter blades over head brought his eyes upward. At least the heavy forest offered something positive. Nobody would be able to see them from up there.
The big man tightened his grip on Sullivan's arm and hauled the lagging man forward.
The two men struggled and fought their way through the pine forest. Standish tumbled and tripped again dragging his captor down with him.
"Gawd damn it!" The big man hissed, "if I didn't need you to keep me alive I'd shoot your sorry ass right now." He hauled the Southerner back to his feet.
Standish felt his vision blacken at the sudden change in height. His legs weakened and threatened to buckle. The world dipped and spun at an alarming rate. The numbness he had so wished for, engulfed him. Ezra failed to realize it.
Buck.
He shivered.
Something pulled on his arm. Once again he found himself tumbling and fumbling over rough terrain.
Buck.
~~~~~~~~~~~~'
Larabee cut down the path. JD followed without question. The young agent nimbly skipped and jumped, swung his arms to keep his balance but maintained a steady few paces behind Larabee.
Two small targets instead of one large one.
Chris never once stopped for rest, never once broke the easy pace he slipped into once they reached the summit. Larabee and Dunne had searched the rock bare peak looking for tracks. They found blood instead, dark dried droplets that had already begun to crack in the summer heat. They were inconsistent and difficult to see, but they were enough, leading down a path on the South side of the mountain. A game trail really. Standish was leaving them pretty good markers. How much blood could one man lose and still move?
Hounds bayed in the distance. Chris had no intention of waiting. He would not lose time or distance now. He refused to play by the rules.
For that JD was thankful. If Chris had done the unthinkable and decided to stop, to wait for others, JD knew he would continue on alone.
Buck and Vin were down and Ezra missing. There was no way JD would stop. No way at all. They were wasting enough valuable time searching for sign of their quarry.
Chris hadn't stopped, hadn't even considered it.
Dunne finally found some insight to what a hound must feel when it was on the scent of a big cat or a bear. With their game only just in front of them, how could they stop now?
JD zigzagged, kicking up trail dust, his arms snapping out left and right helping his body to maintain his balance and his feet. The young agent barreled down the mountain trail hot on the heels of his boss.
They would not fail. Not again…and certainly not today.
Not today.
~~~~~~~~~~~~'
Manny let a smile cross his dirt streaked face. They had made it.
Meridian Mall. Of all the places to have a mountain dump you off at…a mall. A shopping plaza with miles of parking lot and hundreds if not thousands of cars. All sitting unattended and shimmering in the Colorado summer sun.
The afternoon sun sat in the western sky casting the extensive parking lot into flickering pools of reflective light. Natural camouflage.
Manny smiled. Nature was on his side.
"Come on." Manny hauled his sagging captive to uncooperative feet and dragged him onto the tar covered parking lot.
The heat from the black top worked its way through the thick soles of his boots. Manny paid it no need and dragged his dull hostage between cars, row after row.
Car mirrors snagged Standish's arms and shoulders, tugging him back a step while the forceful hand on his upper arm yanked him forward repeatedly. The undercover agent focused only on placing one foot in front of the other trying to keep his balance in a rapidly spinning world.
Manny dragged Sullivan forward again, sending the man staggering to his knees. The large bodyguard cursed. This couldn't continue. Hughes's man gazed around the sea of parked cars shimmering in the heat of the day. He'd stash his prisoner and then find a phone and simply make a call.
~~~~~~~~~~~~'
Chris paused when he broke free of the woods and found himself standing on the side of a paved road.
Not just any road. A four lane road divided by parallel yellow lines.
Sweat and dirt ran down his face as he tried to get a fix on his location.
"Meridian Mall," JD whispered as he pushed his way from the underbrush and thick trees onto the side of the road next to Larabee.
"What?"
"They're heading for the Meridian Mall. " JD looked at Chris and shrugged, "Casey used to work there," Dunne headed east first at a fast walk that quickly morphed into a slow jog. Chris followed. The two men quickened their steps as the back of the Mall slowly came into view.
The sun glared down on them, baking their backs as the two agents headed east, toward the shopping center and back into the mayhem of civilization.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~'
"Another car?" Standish mumbled to himself as he once again found himself bodily shoved into the back seat of another vehicle. He didn't have the strength or the coordination to keep himself from falling to the floor. He found himself wedged between the front seat and the back, staring up at the grey interior ceiling and dome light. The seats were cloth. Blood would be hard to remove. That is why one should spend the extra money and purchase leather. Easier upkeep. Ezra grunted in disgust.
The sun through the car window felt good on his face. Not near as cold now. Yes, the heat felt good, made it difficult to breath, but it felt good to be out of the cold. The penetrating warmth pushed the bone brittle chill away…somewhat.
~~~~~~~~~~~'
few hours later…
Manny exited the mall wearing new clothes, sporting a new hair cut and eating an ice cream. He had phoned his boss and explained his situation on first entering the air-conditioned mall. Though Mr. Hughes was initially unhappy, the idea that Sullivan would soon be within his grip was enough to curb his anger. The fact Larabee had lost a man in the ensuing chase was something that both bothered and thrilled the Illegal Arms dealer. Larabee needed taking down a peg or two, but still to have a rabid dog like Larabee on your trail could also be very, very paralyzing.
Hughes assured his man that help would be coming, sit tight, he would be extricated from his current difficulties in no time. A few hours, but not much longer. Mr. Hughes, after all, was a careful man.
Manny stepped outside the air conditioned mall into the humid oppressive heat of the late afternoon and almost re entered the mall. Instead, he forced himself to walk along the sidewalk, and check the pick up parked in Section J. Employee parking: the farthest from the mall doors and normal employee hours should guarantee that the truck be there until at least eight pm.
Manny smiled when he spotted the truck. Sullivan would be going nowhere. Not until more of Manny's friends and co-workers arrived. The big man leaned against the tan brick wall and rested the sole of his foot against it. As he licked his ice-cream, he almost felt sorry for Sullivan. Knowing his boss, Hughes would have his personal physician fix the man up just so he could 'question' him and kill him later.
Manny shrugged. Not his problem. Too bad about Shawn. Larabee was an ice cold bastard.
The security man let his eyes rove around the parking lot. He paused and straightened up, dropping his foot down from the wall. He spied two figures jogging round the far corner of the mall.
"Shit." He lowered his ice cream and pushed off the wall.
Larabee and Manny noticed one another at the same time. Their eyes locked.
The few hundred yards that separated them was not enough, not for Manny.
The big man turned, dropping his vanilla ice cream cone to the white cement sidewalk, and started running.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~'
JD bumped right into Chris. The young man mumbled an apology and was about to offer an explanation when Larabee suddenly took off sprinting, pulling his gun.
Dunne's sharp dark eyes swung around the parking lot and immediately noticed the large man running down the sidewalk and around the corner. The West side entrance, bastard was probably hoping to lose them in the mall. JD took off running. His mind reeling with another thought…..
Where was Standish?…Oh God…was he dead somewhere on the mountain? Where was he? Chris and he had lost the trail for a while …had spent wasted time walking in circles. They had found the discarded shotgun and picked up the trail again….What if the delay cost Ezra his life?
Dunne gave chase peeling off from Chris and heading through the North Mall entrance. He knew this place like the back of his hand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~'
Standish's labored breathing became more and more shallow. Sweat had long ago evaporated leaving a salty residue on his pasty skin. He wished someone would take the blanket off his face; it was making it difficult to breath. He couldn't seem to move.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~'
Josiah hung onto Buck's limp hand watching the slow even rise and fall of the Ladies' man's battered chest. He ignored the large winch truck that worked to pull Larabee's missused pick up back up onto the road.
K-9 units and police units lined the road. Radios squalked, competing with the heavy whine of the winch. Lights twirled adding to the confusion of the scene.
Dust blanketed everything. Running sweat cut dirty trails down the sides of flushed, determined faces. Rescue crews and law enforcement officers alike, worked in tandem each doing their best to help one another.
In amongst the controlled chaos, a quiet oasis surrounded the gurney that was carried toward the ambulance. The wheels refused to roll with any cooperation on the dirt road.
Josiah walked beside Wilmington's stretcher, keeping his hand on the prone man's upper arm. The large profiler's lips moved quietly mumbling unheard verses. The big man walked beside his fallen friend until Buck disappeared through the wide double doors of the ambulance. The profiler calmly made his way toward the front passenger door. He climbed in and immediately turned the radio to the proper channel. The driver opened his mouth to protest.
"Use your walkie," was all Sanchez had to say.
~~~~~~~~~~~~'
Vin fought to keep his eyes open as he passed through a large, tan, doughnut shaped thing. It struck him as unusual. Perhaps this is what Lemon filling felt like…. He could hear people talking. Tanner tried to sit up and bumped his head on the inner ring of the doughnut. He heard a string of curses that mingled with his own. Nathan kept showing up, smiling down at him, except Vin didn't think it was a happy smile… Vin wanted to ask him something… Nathan kept talking, telling him to keep still. Nothing made sense.
Where was Chris? His head hurt… Maybe he should tell Nathan….
~~~~~~~~~~~~'
Dunne sprinted across the polished floors of the mall, enjoying the brief spate of cool air. He pushed the side Mall doors open and found himself back outside, suffering, the draping Colorado heat. He ran into the parking lot, cutting Hughes's man off.
The man had a gun…a Gloc from the looks of it.
JD reached for his gun forcing the bigger man to suddenly changed direction.
Manny headed deeper into the parking lot.
Chris sprinted after him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~'
Standish's heart raced. It beat so rapidly that it nearly fluttered in its haste to beat the too little volume of blood to the rest of the body.
His chest lingered, nearly failing to haul in enough smothering, thick air into his suffering lungs.
A chill settled back in his extremities. Nausea rolled through him.
Buck…Chris wasn't coming…Buck was gone….He'd have to get himself out…make his own escape, but to where?
Standish tried to move a hand. It refused. The effort left him exhausted, his mind wandering, confused and disjointed. Who would ever raise a pig? Perhaps name it Bacon Bits… A weak smile crossed his face.
The cold crept back on him. Buck would name a pig Bacon Bits…as sure as JD thought McDonalds was fine dining.
Buck was gone…
~~~~~~~~~~~~`
Nathan paced in and out of Vin's hospital room waiting on Josiah. Buck still lay in surgery. Ruptured vessels. Thank God for modern imaging. A vascular surgeon and his team had been on standby. The paramedics at the scene had suspected some kind of internal bleeding and conveyed their concerns.
Jackson sighed. They had been lucky so far……
Sanchez had disappeared in search of any information on the others.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~'
Manny found himself running out of wind. This wasn't going to work.
He circled back around and headed for the yellow truck where he had stashed his captive. Time to employ his human shield. Worked once why not twice?
Larabee was gaining…
He noticed a mother and her three children. Toddlers. Leverage.
He made his move toward the three children and their mother. The mother noticed it, something in her instinctual make up had her swinging her head up. Shock and fear flashed across her face and then angry determination. She reached into her purse as she blocked her children from view with her own body.
The woman turned and faced the danger that rushed her. A metallic object in her hand.
Pepper spray or a gun?
Manny swore and changed direction. A prepared mother defending her children could be unpredictable on a good day….and this was far from being one of his favorites.
The pick up was his best bet….Sullivan had no fight left.