CHAPTER 7Wednesday 8th December – 0730 hours 26 Federal Plaza, Manhattan
43.5 HOURS MISSING
"Phil what the hell do you think you are doing?" Jack exclaimed as soon as Van Doran was out of earshot.
"What?!" Phil exclaimed as he looked at Jack with a confused expression. "I thought you wanted to find Danny more than any of us! And now you are just going to fold to her demands! Jack, when have you ever folded to brass, especially when one of our own has been shot and kidnapped?"
Jack stared vacantly at the floor. Phil was right, he never listened to brass. He usually told them in no uncertain term where to shove it. Now when Danny needed him most, he just caved like some green, terrified rookie. But even a rookie would have given more of a fight than he did. He closed his eyes and raked his hands through his dishevelled hair. "He's out there hurt and scared with that bastard of a father, and I just gave up on him. I just gave up on him, like every other person has done. He's already been through enough in his life, he doesn't need this, he certainly doesn't people that are supposed to look out for him, people whose job is to find people, to give up on him," Jack said in a small lost voice.
Phil looked at Jack with concern. He was beginning to worry about Jack's mental state; he had never seen Jack look so defeated. Jack had hit it off with Danny from the start and he had seen why – Danny reminded Jack of what he was like when he was that age. Phil sighed, Danny reminded him of what he was like – young, hot-headed with a disregard for authority unless they had earned his respect. Phil thought it made perfect sense. Why respect someone and bow down to them when they treat you like shit?
"That's why we are not going to give up on him," Phil said with a small smile, trying to get Jack back on track.
Jack took a moment to process the information. "Right, if we don't find Danny within those 12 hours, our cell phones will mysterious break while we are out in the field. Modern technology can be so unreliable," he said with a shy smile.
Phil raised an eyebrow and smiled – the Jack he knew had returned. "Of course, especially with government issued technology," he added.
His focus returning, he started to address the situation at hand. "Okay, Danielle is going to be need protection," Jack said as his tone turned serious.
"Got it. Shall we keep Viv over there?" Phil asked as he picked up his phone.
"No. Wait. Yes, for the time being. But we'll need her here when the deadline passes," Jack said thoughtfully.
"Why?" Phil asked, frowning.
"You and I aren't the most diplomatic people in the world, and Viv is great at dealing with the brass. She will stall them for a while and buy us some more time," Jack explained.
"Got it. Okay, I'm going to run the goon's credit cards to try and find out where the hell they are or have been. I think when we find these scumbags, we will find Danny," Phil said as he booted up his computer. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to head over to the hospital to tell Viv about the Danielle/Danny connection," Jack said as he grabbed his coat.
"Are you going to tell Danielle about Danny?" Phil asked as he looked up from his computer.
"No. Danny is my first priority right now; he is my primary concern so I will wait for his answer. Second, what happens if we are too late? Does Danielle deserve to lose her son all over again?" Jack explained.
Phil nodded. "'Third, I am sure Danielle is genuine and I am sure she is as much as a victim as Danny, but until we know for sure…" he trailed off. He took a breath. "But if that is the case, she could lead us to Danny."
Jack nodded. "Start running a background check on Danielle," he instructed.
"How do I run a background check on some who is dead?" Phil asked.
Jack sighed and rubbed his weary face. This case was getting harder and harder. He was beginning to wonder if they would ever find Danny. But he had to. His agent was in the hands of some psycho torturers not to mention the bastard that was his father. "U-mm okay," he managed to stammer. "Okay, I will interview Danielle. I'm not going to mention Danny, but I will see if she can shed some light on the situation."
"We will get him back," Phil reassured with a small smile.
"This office hasn't lost an agent in the line of duty in years, and it's not going to happen on my watch – it's not going to be one of my people," Jack said tensely. He clenched his jaw and headed towards the elevators without another word.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Wednesday 8th December – 0830 hours Mount Sinai Hospital, Manhattan
44.5 HOURS MISSING
Jack walked briskly but tiredly through the endless hospital corridors. Danny had been missing for 44 and half hours and he knew time was rapidly running out. Even if he was uninjured, it would be running out. But he had been shot and had a possible head injury – which he didn't know how serious it was. But all head injuries were serious, coupled with his other injuries, Danny needed medical help and fast, if he didn't – Jack didn't even want to think about that. Danny was alive, and he was going to find Danny alive. He was going to make it up to the kid. He was going to make sure Danny felt wanted, felt like he belonged with his team. Taking a breath, he leaned against the cool glass window that he found himself facing. Part of him wanted to tell Danielle that her son that she had loved with all of her heart was alive and a damn fine FBI agent. But the dark side of his mind kept overriding him – Danny was dead and it was all his fault. If had just looked out for Danny more. If he had just taken a few minutes to get to know Danny. If he had just taken a few minutes to ask Danny what was bothering him. If he had…. If he had. Jack leaned against the wall and slid down it, letting his head fall into his hands. This was all his fault. Danny was missing because of him. All the kid had wanted his whole life was to be loved, to be respected… to feel safe. And he had blown it on all three accounts. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he tried to regain his composure. He had a job to do and that job was finding Danny. He wasn't helping Danny by sitting here, wallowing his own self pity.
He knocked on the door. Once he heard a welcoming reply, he slowly entered with a small smile. "Mrs. Alvarez. How are you feeling?" he asked gently.
"Please call me, Danielle. I...." She stopped and smiled. "Just call me Danielle; Mrs. Alvarez is far too formal."
Viv looked at Jack, at his haggard and almost defeated expression. She could see how much this case was affecting him, how much it was eating away at him. She just didn't know how much more he could take. If they found Danny dead – she feared for Jack. "I'll go and get a coffee, do you want one?" she asked.
"U-mm, no, no thanks," Jack managed to stammered as he walked into the room – trying to mentally prepare himself for the latest round of questions.
"Okay then," Viv said with a small smile as she left the room.
"U-mm, Danielle, is it okay if I ask you a few questions?" Jack asked, as he sat down.
"Of course, Agent Malone," Danielle replied with a smile, although she felt slightly nervous.
"Please call me Jack," he said with a smile.
"Okay. What do you want to ask me, Jack?"
"If your husband took someone hostage in New York, where would he take him?" Jack asked.
Danielle stared in a horror at Jack. It wasn't as if she didn't believe that Marco would take someone hostage, it was just she was surprised that it had warranted the FBI's attention. "There is a warehouse in Poughkeepsie, it's abandoned, has been for many years. I know he deals out of there when we are in the area, but have no idea if that's where he would deal with a hostage – I'm sorry," she said as she looked down.
"Thanks. That's great. Can you think of any other places he would take someone," Jack asked desperately.
"No, I'm sorry," Danielle replied. She looked at the man's defeated and downcast expression before adding. "Who did he take hostage?"
Jack almost said Danny, before he stopped himself. He swallowed and took a breath before he continued. "He took an FBI agent; he took one of my agents."
"I'm sorry," Danielle said. "I really am. I really can't think of any where else Marco would take them. U-mm unless, well, I know one of his `clients' owns a couple of warehouses in the Poughkeepsie area."
"Do you have the addresses of these places?" Jack asked quickly as he automatically pulled the notepad from his jacket.
"Yes," Danielle replied as she started to give Jack the addresses that she knew of.
Jack smiled, before he bid his thanks and left. As he walked down the corridors, he could feel fatigue catching up with him. But he couldn't sleep yet, he wouldn't sleep until he had found Danny. When he walked out of the hospital towards his car, he pulled out his cell phone and quickly phoned Phil – relaying all of the details that he found out to him. He slowly eased his tired, aching body into his car and rested his head against the steering wheel. Why was this happening to his team – why? Why was this happening to Danny? What had he done to deserve this? Jack thought as he unconsciously began to drift off.
He slowly moved through the freezing cold, damp warehouse with his gun drawn. The place was silent a part from the dripping water down the walls and his own nervous haggard breaths. He had searched warehouse after warehouse, but to no avail. Maybe Danielle had played them? But he knew this wasn't the case. He knew he was the only one to blame. Danny was missing and had now probably been tortured to death and it was all his fault. The kid had finally begun to trust him, and he had failed him. He shivered as the icy air bit into him, he didn't know if it was because of the snow storm that was raging outside, or because of the fear and guilt that he was rightfully carrying.
His senses pricked as he heard a raised voice, he increased his pace but continued to sweep the area cautiously. He felt his heart pounding as he heard two gunshots followed two laughs, he ran forwards – not caring about his personal safety anymore. Two figures emerged from the room and aimed their guns at him, but before they had a chance to fire at him, he emptied round after round in to them. He knew they were dead, he didn't bother to check, but out of habit he kicked the guns away. He shuddered as he heard the metal objects that probably ended his agent's live clatter on the concrete floor. He found himself at the door frame. He was too late. He was too late, too God damn late. He felt tears streaming down his face and bent down next to his agent's bloodied and battered body. It was all his fault. It was all his fault.
As he laid a hand on Danny's cold, lifeless cheek, he cursed. Danny was alive; he could see the shallow rise and fall of his chest. "It's okay Danny, its okay," he found himself saying. Danny's eyes flutter open. He looked acquiescingly at Jack. "You killed me, Jack," he acquiesced. "You shot me!"
"No, no I didn't Danny, I swear I didn't. It was them," Jack exclaimed as he turned to point to the two men he shot, only to be met with an empty space. He looked down at his hand to find a smoking gun.
"I trusted you, Jack, and you killed me," Danny said with his final breath. His eyes rolled back and his lolled to one side.
"I'm so sorry, Danny, I'm so sorry," Jack cried as he cradled Danny body in his arms. Suddenly and without warning he was surrounded by men, who were laughing. They dragged Danny from his arms, despite his protests. He screamed at them as they unceremoniously dumped Danny in a body bag. Danny deserved better that this he wanted to yell, but no words can from his mouth. He tried to pull them away from Danny, but they were too many of them. They threw Danny's body as if it was garbage into a coroner's van that was ablaze; he sank to his knees and sobbed. He was worthless, it was all his fault. Danny was dead because of him, he had killed him.
Jack woke with a start, cold sweat drenched his body. He tried to take a shaky breath and take into his surroundings. He stifled back a cry as he realized he was at the hospital, it was true – Danny was dead and it was all his fault. The annoying shrill of his cell phone pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Malone," he whispered in a hopeless, lost voice.
"Jack?" Phil asked – completely confused and worried by the lost sound in Jack's voice.
"Phil? Where are you? What are you doing?" Jack mumbled as he tried to pull himself together.
"I'm in Poughkeepsie. I am about to search the warehouses," Phil said, his concern and fear for his friend and boss rising by the second. "Just like you told me to do."
"Have you found Danny?"
"No, not yet. Jack, what's up? Are you okay?" Phil asked concern evident in his voice.
"Did I find Danny, did I find him dead?" Jack asked urgently.
"No. Where are you?" Phil asked as he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was what he was worried about.
"I-I don't know," Jack stammered.
"What can you see?" Phil asked gently as though he was talking to a victim in one his cases.
"U-mm, I-I I-I'm," Jack stammered as he looked around. He saw the sign and silently cursed. "I am outside Mount Sinai Hospital in New York."
"Okay. When you phoned me about forty minutes ago, you had just come out from questioning Danielle. You are exhausted, my guess is that you drifted off," Phil suggested.
"I dreamed that Danny was dead, Phil. But what happens if it is not a dream, what happens if Danny is dead," Jack exclaimed.
"He's not dead," Phil reassured. "But he needs you, he needs you to get your ass up here and help me search for him."
"Right. I'm sorry, Phil," Jack said in a small voice.
"There's no need for that. Okay? You are only human and this case is affecting us all emotionally, especially you," Phil said as he ran a weary hand over his face. He didn't know if Jack was in the right state to search for Danny, but what he did know was that he needed him to help him find Danny. He would deal with the emotional fallout later.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Wednesday 8th December – 1200 hours An abandoned warehouse, Poughkeepsie.
48 HOURS MISSING
Phil shivered as the cold damp walls closed in on him. They had followed lead after lead, but to no avail. They were running out of leads and Danny was running out of time. He had already been missing for 48 hours. He had been shot 48 hours ago and he had received no medical attention. Now he was he in the hands of some psycho torturers. Phil closed his eyes at the very thought. If they were too late, he had no idea what Jack would do; he was already at the breaking point now. So Danny's death would send him over the edge. Now that he thought about it, he didn't know what Danny's death would do to him as well. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his head. He didn't need to be distracted, he needed to be alert if he was going to find Danny and get the both of them out alive. He drew his gun and started to move cautiously through the warehouse.
The place was silent a part of from the dripping water running down the damp walls and his footfalls, but he wasn't taking any risks. He knew he should've waited for back up, but the pull to this warehouse was too strong. It was as though he had no control over his body as he found himself searching the warehouse.
He thought he heard a hiss of pain ahead and cautiously increased his pace. He rounded the corner and found himself in a small, dark room. It was so cold that he could see his breath. Spinning around, he heard the same hiss of pain. In the corner of the small room, he saw an outline of a hunched figure that appeared to be chained to a pipe. He started to walk warily towards the figure and bent down.
"Danny," he said quietly when he thought he recognised the figure. The figure looked up, one big eye stared at him wild with fear. "Its okay Danny, it's me, Phil. We've been looking for you." When Danny didn't respond, Phil laid a gentle hand on Danny's good shoulder. He noted the swollen and bruised wrist. He felt his heart break as he looked at the battered and bloodied face, the eye that was swollen shut, the torn and bloody clothes, at the icy touch to Danny's skin. "Its okay Danny, I've got you kid. How about I get you out of here?"
"I-I'm s-so s-so-r-ry," Danny slurred and coughed slightly causing more blood to escape. His head lolled forward so it was resting on Phil's arm.
"Danny?" Phil asked nervously but there was no response. "Danny?" he yelled out of fear, but there was still no response.
CHAPTER 8
Wednesday 8th December - 1230 hours An abandoned warehouse, Poughkeepsie
FOUND
"Danny, Danny. Come on, kid. Don't do this to me," Phil pleaded desperately as he gently tapped Danny's cheek. "I'll let you lean on my arm just as long as you open your eyes for me."
Danny groaned as he felt someone tapping his face. He tried to work out where he was, or how he got here but found no answers, only questions. He tried to focus on the voice, it sounded gentle and concerned - unlike the voices he had recently been accustomed to hearing.
Phil silently watched Danny for a while, before he tried for a response again. "Danny, it's okay. I've got you. You and I are both going to get out of this place - understand? But I just need you to open your eyes for me," he pleaded gently.
Slowly opening his eyes, Danny was met with a very blurry image of what looked like the teammate who hated him. Why was he being so nice, Danny silently thought. He closed his eyes again; he didn't have any other choice but to trust Phil. It was so fucked up that Phil, the guy that hated him, was the only way he was going to survive.
"No, Danny, you have to keep your eyes open for me," Phil pleaded. He gently squeezed Danny's shoulder again. "Come on kid, you have to stay awake."
Slowly and reluctantly, he opened his eyes again, but all he wanted to do was sleep. All he wanted to do was escape this hell. He knew if he fell asleep again, he may never wake up and this was strangely comforting. But it didn't change the fact that Phil, was here and in danger - he had to warn him. "G-Go just go, t-t-oo d-dangerous," he managed to cough out. He knew death was close, he could feel her wrap her icy hands around him.
"I am not leaving without you. It will just make things easier and safer if you can help me out," Phil hissed. But as soon as the words came out of his mouth he regretted the tone of them. "Kiddo, I've, we've been looking for you for two days and now that I've found you, there is no way in hell I am going to leave you here," he said in a much gentler tone.
Danny stared at Phil through slits. "Y-You've b-be-en l-looking for m-me?" he stammered in disbelief.
"After you didn't show for show for work, Jack got worried and checked your apartment out. Jesus Danny. Why didn't you come to us for help?" Phil exclaimed as he looked worryingly at the younger agent's deteriorating condition.
""I-I'm s-sorry, I-I'm s-so s-sorry," Danny stammered as he felt his emotions begin to get the better of him.
"Its all right, Danny, okay? Everything is going to be all right," Phil reassured as he continued to squeeze Danny's shoulder. With his other hand, he pulled out a set of keys and was about to undo the cuffs when he found a bruised and swollen hand stopping him. "I am just going to uncuff these. I will be as gentle as possible and then we can get you out of here and to a hospital with lots of hot nurses."
"I-I'm s-so s-sorry P-Phil, I-I-I pr-promise I-I tried, I-I really t-tried," Danny stammered.
"I know you did, but it's pretty difficult with a busted wrist and shoulder," Phil said gently - not understanding what Danny was trying to say.
"N-No n-not that. B-Before M-Miami," Danny slurred, his sentences becoming shorter as death continued to strongly wrap her icy fingers around him and try to pull him away from the life he knew.
"That doesn't matter right now. You can tell me later, okay?" Phil said. He wanted to know what Danny knew about what went down in Miami but this wasn't time or the place. He tried to uncuff the cuffs again, but Danny's busted wrist was still blocking him and he didn't want to cause Danny any more pain. "We have to get you to a hospital....now."
"N-No s-sorry Phil, I-I p-promise I-I t-tried, b-but s-stupid, n-not h-hard e-enough," Danny slurred, closing his eyes as another wave of pain rolled through his body.
Phil sighed. He knew that Danny was stubborn just as he was, and he wasn't going to budge until he had told his story. He just hoped that the story wouldn't cost Danny his life. "Tell me," he said gently, as he pulled his thick coat off and draped it over Danny's trembling shoulders. He removed his hat and pulled it over Danny's head, in a vain attempt to keep Danny from losing any more body heat.
"I-I k-knew w-warehouse t-trap. T-Tried t-to warn y-you. D-Didn't t-think y-you w-would l-listen t-to a k-kid. T-Trashed c-car, h-hoped i-it w-w-would stop y-you, s-stupid b-bad n-neighbourhood," Danny stammered. He felt himself drifting again. Everything was so painful. He couldn't do anything without having white-hot pain shoot through his body. Why couldn't Phil just leave? He was dead anyway. He didn't want Phil to die because of him. Phil had a wife and two kids; Danny had no one. He had no family and he wasn't going to have a job after this - what was the point of living? He had nothing but after what he had done in his life, he deserved nothing.
Phil sat for a moment, his mouth wide open with shock. Danny had tried to save his life. Why the hell hadn't he taken the trashed car as a warning sign? Danny had been beaten because of it. He leant forward and gently hugged Danny. "Oh Danny, man its not your fault. If anything it was my fault. Danny you were just a kid then, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I've had my head so far up my ass to not see what a great person you are. It wasn't your fault, you did everything you could and that bastard beat the shit out of you because you did the right thing. It was an incredibly brave thing," he said as he gently rubbed Danny's back. "Come on, kid, let's get you some medical attention."
Danny looked up with tears in his eyes. He had never told anyone what had happened that night. He had done everything he could to help those FBI agents, but it hadn't been enough and because of it, one of them was dead. He just couldn't believe the other one involved had forgiven him for what he had done. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on breathing, but it was all so hard. He heard Phil talking to him again, he tried to listen but it was so hard. He was so scared.
"Danny, Danny I need to know how many people are here," Phil said gently as un-cuffed Danny.
"U-mm, f-five p-people a-all a-a-armed," Danny managed to cough out. He wiped his mouth, and stared at it in horror - it was covered in blood. He felt more tears stream down his face; he just wanted to slip into a semi-conscious state so death wouldn't be so scary.
"Hey," Phil said as he gently wiped the tears away. "It's going to be all right, Danny. You are going to be fine, I promise. Do you think you can stand?"
Danny slowly nodded, he didn't know if he could stand, and if he could he didn't know if he could make it passed the door, but he didn't want to disappoint Phil. "I-I t-think so."
"Okay, I want you to take nice and easy, and put all your weight on me," Phil said gently as he started to slowly and gently pull Danny to his feet. He knew he shouldn't move Danny in his condition, but he also knew that Danny probably wouldn't still be alive by the time SWAT arrived and secured the building. "Easy, Danny, easy," he said as he felt Danny sway despite his support. He took a moment to fully support Danny before he slowly made it to the door. He just hoped that none of these psycho torturers where going to be around to slow down their escape, but he knew that wasn't going to be the case. At the very least, he just hoped that he could get Danny out without adding to his injuries. God knows the kid didn't need anymore to add to the collection.
"Phil," Danny whispered in a small, lost voice. "Y-You should g-g-go, t-there is n-no w-way w-we c-can both g-get o-out o-of h-here a-alive. I-I am j-just g-going to b-be a-a b-burden to y-you, I-I-I don't w-want to y-you t-to g-get h-hurt or w-worse b-because of m-me. I-I-I d-don't w-want a-a w-wife t-to b-be w-widowed, I-I-I d-don't w-want c-children t-t-to f-f-fatherless b-b-because o-o-of m-m-me."
"And what about you, Danny? Does your mom deserve to lose her son all over again?" Phil asked gently as he tried to concentrate on two things at once - the threats that surrounded them and reassuring a dying Danny.
Danny looked at Phil with dazed, confused, fearful eyes as he tried to process what Phil was telling him. How could his mom still be alive? He had fucked up and because of him his mother was dead. "M-My l-l-life doesn't m-m-matter," he managed to blurted as he quickly looked down.
"Danny, did you hear me? Your mom is alive and she loves you," Phil said gently as he continued to scan the surrounding area for any sign of movement. "And why doesn't your life matter?"
Danny blinked several times, he was so tired - it was taking all of his strength just to stay upright and he couldn't even do that by himself. "M-My m-m-m-mom is a-alive," he exclaimed. "W-Wrong, I-I m-mess up, she's d-dead, i-it's a-all my f-fault."
On hearing footfalls, Phil quickly and gently eased Danny battered form behind a wall. He looked Danny squarely in the eyes. "Look at me," he said firmly as he squeezed Danny's shoulder. "Your mom is still alive, we found her and she is currently under FBI protection. Only me, Viv, Jack and the tech that ran the DNA test know that she is your mom. But I promise you, she is safe."
"Y-You p-promise?" Danny stammered, as he forced himself to concentrate on breathing - which was becoming harder and harder by the second. He was terrified, why was it so hard to breathe? Why was it so cold? He felt tears stream down his face, he wanted to wipe them away but he didn't have the strength to do so - he barely had the strength to stay alive.
"I promise," Phil said in a gently voice as if he was talking to a terrified child. He scanned the area and unholstered his gun. "It's going to be okay, I just need to check this out. But I need you to stay here, I will right back." He watched Danny slowly nod and reluctantly moved away. He didn't want to leave Danny, especially in the condition he was in.
"P-Phil" Danny said in a small, lost voice, as he watched him stand. He knew Phil said he was coming back, but part of him didn't believe him. No one apart from his mother had ever cared about it him, so why should Phil?
"Yes," Phil replied, flinching slightly as he looked into the deep brown fearful and lost eyes. He took one of Danny's hands and gently squeezed it. "I promise I'm not going to leave you. I've just gotta deal with a couple of psychos. That's all. I promise you I will be right back and then we will get you out of here - how does that sound?"
Danny slowly nodded and produced a weak smile for good measure. "T-That s-sounds o-okay," he stammered.
"Okay then, I will be right back, I promise you Danny I am not going to abandoned you, I just have to secure the area," Phil said gently as he continued to hold his glaze with Danny.
Danny tried to pull himself up; he was a trained FBI agent it was his job to secure the area as well. He couldn't leave Phil to do it by himself, the academy had told him that. "I-I'll h-help you," he stammered, gasping when white-hot pain seared through his body.
"You're injured," Phil said as he gently pushed Danny back down. "You stay here and watch my back." He handed Danny a two-way radio. "Now if you see or hear anything, you tell me but on the radio." He watched Danny slowly nodded before he turned and left. It was harder than he had ever imagined leaving Danny in that state. He couldn't believe he had been so blind all these years. It was only Marco Alvarez that had been rotten to the core; Danny had been on his side. At nine years old, Danny had tried to save his life and how had he repaid him? He had treated him like shit but that was going to change. Once Danny had recovered, no while Danny was recovering, he was going to make it up to him.
He didn't know how long he had been searching the warehouse before Danny's weak voice came on to the radio. "P-Phil, t-think I-I c-can hear s-s-something."
"Danny just hang tight, I will be there in a second," Phil said as he ran back to where he had left Danny. There was no way he was going to let Danny suffer at the hands of his father for a moment longer. As soon as he got to Danny, he flinched at the state Danny was in. He hadn't believed it was possible for someone to be in this condition and still be conscious, but then he had met Danny. "Hey kid, what did you hear?"
"V-Voices, F-Footsteps, t-that direction," Danny stammered as he weakly pointed in the direction of the entrance.
"Okay, Danny it's going to be okay. I want you just sit tight for a bit longer, while I check this out. I think, I hope this is the backup that I requested," Phil explained as he bent down and gently squeezed Danny shoulder. He closed his eyes briefly--it had to be backup. Judging by how rapidly Danny was deteriorating, he guessed he had internal bleeding and he needed medical attention now, or he would die. For the second time in a short period of time, Phil reluctantly left Danny's side. He cautiously rounded the corner, not knowing what was awaiting him.
"FBI SWAT! Drop you weapon!"
Phil froze and sighed in relief. He pulled his ID out his pocket and threw it across the floor. "Special Agent Glanville, I was the one that requested you," he said calmly, hoping this would only take a moment.
One of the SWAT agents picked up Phil's ID and closely inspected it, once it appeared too satisfactory he spoke. "Special Agent Glanville, what do you know?"
Phil sighed as he felt his SWAT training kicking in. "First drop the whole Special Agent thing. It's too much and takes too long to say. Name's Phil." He paused before he started to brief the SWAT team on the building, and what he knew about the hostiles.
The SWAT leader paused as he digested the information. "Do you need anything?" he asked.
"Yeah, I've got a casualty, he's one of us. I need to get him out of here. So as soon as the EMTs arrive, he can get medical attention," Phil explained quickly, looking around. This was taking too long. He had promised Danny he would be quick and Danny didn't have much time left. He needed to be treated and fast.
"Okay," the SWAT leader said, as he nodded in the direction of one his agents. "Larabee, go with Phil, the EMTs should be here in ten minutes."
Phil nodded and thanked the SWAT leader, before he turned and hurried towards Danny - Larabee hot on his heels. As he rounded the corner and saw Danny, his heart skipped a beat - Danny was deathly pale, slummed to one side and from this distance, it didn't appear as though he was breathing.
"Danny," Phil whispered as he quickly knelt beside the still form. He let out the breath he didn't realise he was holding, as he saw the shallow rise and fall of Danny's chest. "Danny, help's here, let's get you out of here," he said as he gently tapped Danny's cheek. He found a small smile as he watched Danny's eyes slowly flutter open. "That's it kid. Let's get you out of here."
It had taken a while to get Danny up and moving, but finally they were. Phil nodded to the young SWAT agent, before they moved out of the relative safety of the corridor. Watching the young agent swept each inch as they moved brought back memories, for him. They painfully, slowly, got to the entrance, where Phil and Larabee exchanged looks. They both knew the risks - they had to get a critical injured Danny across an exposed area - but what choice did they have?
Phil nodded at Larabee before he turned his attention to Danny, who was now resting his head on his shoulder. "Hey Danny, Danny," he said softly as he tried to get the near unconscious agent's attention. Once Danny's were finally focused on him, he began to talk. "Now kid, see that truck," he said as he nodded his head in the direction of one the SWAT SUVs. "We have to make it there. Because of the lay of the area, we are going to have to move fast. It may hurt a little, but I just want you to let me do all the work - understand?"
Danny nodded tiredly, it was all he could do; he was too exhausted to do anything else. He just wanted this to be over. He just wanted the pain to go away. He could barely put one foot in front of the other. He was barely aware of his surroundings. He didn't hear the gunfire, or Phil's surprised yelp of pain. But despite doing nothing, he was breathing hard; by the time he had been dragged to the SUV. He couldn't take the pain anymore. His world began to grow dark and it wasn't long before he completely slipped into the darkness.
Phil barely noticed the sharp pain in his arm as he practically dragged Danny across the open space that stood between them and safety. He was too concerned about Danny to hear or notice the gunfire. As he reached the relevant safety of the SUV, he could have cried with joy but for one thing, Danny collapsed limply into his grasp. He tried to hold on, to prevent the younger agent from hitting the ground hard, but his left arm was not cooperating. He couldn't express his gratitude enough as the young SWAT agent rushed over to help him ease Danny gently to the ground. He felt tears running down his face as he stared at Danny's pale, almost lifeless face. He lifted a shaky hand and checked for a pulse. He let out the breath that he didn't realise he was holding when he found what he was looking for. But it was too fast... too weak. It was so weak he could barely feel it. "Shit!" he swore. "Danny, Danny come on kid. Don't do this to me now!"
"Sir, u-mm Special Agent Glanville!"
"What?!" Phil growled
"We need to get him out of the snow," Larabee said as he eyed the youngest agent with concern. "I've put the back seats down, so we've got some space."
"Shit, sorry," Phil apologised as he looked up at the SUV. "He's unconscious, can you give me a hand with getting him in there. I don't want to hurt him anymore than he already has been."
"Sure," Larabee said as he jumped forward and quickly took Danny's legs. Slowly and carefully, they got Danny into the back of the SUV. As soon as Danny was safely in, Larabee closed the back door and raced around to the side door. "What do you need?"
"He needs professional medical attention now!" Phil exclaimed as he eyed the pale, unmoving form. "But blankets, gauze and water will do for now," he continued in a softer voice. He ran a gentle hand through Danny's hair and continued to talk to the unconscious agent in a soft, gentle, soothing voice. He shivered slightly as the door was pulled open again and someone called his name.
"Special Agent Glanville," Larabee called out as he passed the gauze and water bottle to Phil. He carefully draped the blanket over the still form. He looked the injured agent up and down, he didn't have medical training, but he had seen death before, and the injured agent looked so close to death.
"Thanks," Phil said as he took the items from Larabee. He wetted the gauze and started to clean the dried blood from around the gunshot wound, before placing a clean wad of gauze over the wound that started to bleed again. "Oh and quit with the `Special Agent' thing, it's Phil. Anyway what's your name?"
"John," Larabee replied as he guilty looked at Phil's bleeding arm - which hadn't been touched. "Look Phil, I'm really sorry."
"What for?" Phil asked not looking up. He wetted another wad of gauze and started to clean the blood from Danny's face.
"Your arm, I should have... I should have seen the gunman," Larabee exclaimed.
"It's not your fault. I knew the risks, John," Phil said as he looked up for a moment. "I'm ex-SWAT, I knew the risks but we needed to get Danny of there. And anyway, a second after that gunman had fired his first shot; he had a bullet in his head. You did your job John and you did well. You got me and Danny out of there, unharmed apart from a scratch."
"Okay," Larabee managed to reply. He sat up he heard the wail of a siren. "I think that's the EMTs, I'll go and direct them."
Phil nodded, and returned his attention to his fallen colleague. "Danny, helps nearly here okay. You just hang on a bit longer and I am sure that you will have lots of hot nurses looking after you." He sighed when he got no reply. If had been more welcoming, hell he even had a civil exchange with the young agent, then maybe this wouldn't be happening. A sudden burst of activity pulled him out of his thoughts.
"What have we got?" one of the EMT asked quickly as he started to check his patient.
"U-mm," Phil stammered as he tried pulling himself together. "Danny Taylor, age 25, blood type AB negative, I dunno about allergies. He was shot in the shoulder two days ago, where he removed the bullet himself. U-mm, he's been coughing up blood and has been having difficulty breathing."
The EMT nodded. "How long has he been unconscious for?"
"U-mm about 10 minutes and he has remained unresponsive," Phil replied, not knowing how he did though.
"Okay, we've got from here. Sir, can you step out so we can have some room to work?"
"U-mm s-sure," Phil stammered as he reluctantly moved. He was just about to step out of the SUV went he stopped and turned. He took Danny's hand and squeezed it. "Danny I'm not abandoning you, I'm going to be right outside. But you've gotta hang in there - understand kid?" He sighed and closed his eyes when he got no response. He slowly closed the door and walked to John Larabee.
"How's he doing?" Larabee asked, although he knew the answer, he was just making conversation.
"Not good John, not good," Phil replied as he sadly shook his head.
"You should get yourself checked out," Larabee said as he eyed Phil's bleeding arm.
"I'll get it checked at the hospital," Phil said in a near whisper. He had no idea how much time had passed before he heard another voice calling his name. "Yeah," he said.
"Phil, we've secured the area. Made three arrests and but we had to neutralize two of the targets," the SWAT leader said in a clipped tone. "We tried to not too, but they didn't give us any choice."
"It's okay, I know the score, I used to be SWAT," Phil replied distantly. "Who are the fatalities?"
"Oh," the SWAT leader replied with a new air of respected laced into the tone of his voice. "An unknown associate of Marco Alvarez and Marco Alvarez himself."
"Damn," Phil exclaimed. "Sorry it's just I wanted to kill the bastard myself - its personal."
"Sorry, look we can clean up here if you want to ride with your guy," the SWAT leader said as his eyes shifted to the pale, unmoving form that was being transferred into the ambulance.
"Y-Yeah," Phil stammered as he followed the SWAT leader's glaze. "That would be great thanks."
"What's your boss's name so I can send a report?"
"Jack, Jack Malone," Phil replied quickly as he sprinted towards the ambulance, not seeing the SWAT leader's reaction to those three words.
"Oh hell," the SWAT leader swore as he visibly paled and clutched onto the SUV for support. He had heard about Jack's overbearing protectiveness of his team - hell what New York FBI agent hadn't. His bad day was just about to get longer.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Phil grabbed Danny's hand as soon as he had got into the ambulance and squeezed it. "Hang in there kiddo, just hang in there," he whispered. He closed his eyes in a vain attempt to block out the frantic work of the EMT working on Danny. He knew nothing bore well. Danny was dying and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. Once they got to the hospital he had been forcefully pushed into a treatment room. But he couldn't sit still he needed to know how Danny was. He looked passed the doctor that was treating him, to see a gurney surrounded by medical equipment, frantically being pushed towards the elevators. He dodged the doctor's grasp and hurried out into the hallway. "Where are you taking him," he called out as he jogged beside the gurney.
"Mount Sinai," came the clipped reply. "We are not equipped to deal with his injuries here."
"I'm going with him," Phil said as he took Danny's hand.
"Sir you need to looked at yourself," one of the doctors replied
"This chopper is going to a hospital right?" Phil growled. "I will get checked out there."
"Sir..."
"Look unless you come up with a sound medical excuse, I am not going to let him be alone, he's had enough of that in his life. He doesn't need it now!" Phil growled and glared at one of the doctors.
The doctor shook his head and sighed. "Fine go, but stay out of the way."
Phil nodded and quickly climbed into the chopper, resuming his supportive hold of Danny's hand.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Jack slammed the door and ran up to the man who looked he was in charge. "Where are my agents?" he growled.
The SWAT leader, Jason Close, paled. So this was Jack Malone. He could understand why people feared him and now he was about to the job that most people that had dealt with Malone had nightmares about. "They should be at the hospital now," he replied tensely.
"What!?" Jack exclaimed, as he started to ball his hands into fists. "What are their conditions?"
"Phil Glanville, took a bullet to his left upper arm, it looks like it's a through and through," Jason replied nervously. He swallowed and his eyes darted around for an escape, which he knew he would need once he told Malone about Taylor.
"Okay and what about the other agent?" Jack growled as he took a step closer to Jason.
"Taylor, u-mm, I dunno how to tell you this," Jason stammered.
"How about you to try by telling me!"
"U-mm, Taylor, he looked bad, really bad."
Jack leant against the car, feeling crushed. He was too late, too god damn late. "Have you made any arrests?"
"Yes sir, three but there were two fatalities," Jason replied as he looked sadly at Jack Malone. The man obviously really cared about his agents, something that was rare.
"Who are the fatalities?" Jack asked in a small voice.
"An associate of Marco Alvarez and Marco Alvarez himself," Jason said. He quickly added, "I'm sorry, sir, we didn't have any choice."
"I know, I know I just wish that I could've done it myself," Jack said fiercely as he started to walk towards his car. "The three you have arrested--can you transport to New York?"
"Of course sir," Jason replied. He understood why people feared Jack Malone, but what he didn't understand was people critising the man. He was a good agent who really looked out for his agents. If the FBI had few more Malone's it would be a better agency - he was sure of it.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Jack cursed as the traffic report announced the closure of the interstate. There had been a huge accident because of the un-forecasted snow and no salt on the roads. He had to get to New York, he had to know if Danny was going to be all right and he had to do it in person. He hit the sirens and light and drove down the hard shoulder to the next exit. The back roads wouldn't have been gritted in days, but he didn't care he had to get to New York. That's where he belonged, that's where he was needed. He still felt that gut wrenching fear when the SWAT leader had told that both his agents where hurt and on their way to the hospital. He had actually been physically sick when he had arrived at the hospital and doctor had told him that they weren't equipped to deal with Danny's injuries and he had been medivaced to New York. As he thought of Danny and the injuries he had received at the hand of his father, caused to drive faster, to drive harder. He bit back the tears that threatened, Danny could already be dead and it was all his fault.
He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he wasn't paying attention to the road. He didn't see the ice, he was driving too fast for the weather conditions, and he was driving too fast for the road and rapidly approaching corner. By the time he realised it was too late. He hit the brakes, but the wheels locked and tires were useless on the icy road. He turned into the skid in a vain attempt to regain control of the car, but to no avail. The car spun hopelessly out of control towards the wood and the steep drop towards the fast moving, ice-cold river.
CHAPTER 9
Phil felt as though he was in a trance, as the helicopter took off and headed rapidly towards New York. He didn't feel the soaked clothes that clung to his shivering body. He didn't feel the ragged hole in his arm. He heard the urgent, clipped words of the medical team, but didn't comprehend them. It was as though someone had dulled all of his senses, apart from one - his connection to his fallen colleague. Danny was so deathly pale with so many tubes and wires attached to him, that if it hadn't been for the heart monitor, Phil would have thought Danny was dead. But the kid fought on, he fought against every odd and defied medical reason. He shouldn't be alive right now, but because of some thing that could only be described as a miracle, he was. But the tubes, the wires and respirator were almost too much to bear, as he felt tears threaten. He angrily wiped away the tears that had begun to roll down his cheeks. He shouldn't be crying. He didn't deserve to cry after the way he treated Danny. This was all his fault. If he hadn't been so hostile, so arrogant then maybe Danny would have trusted them enough to tell them about the threats. And if he had, then he wouldn't be dying in some god damn helicopter.
"Shit! We're losing him," one the medics yelled, as the alarms began to sound.
Phil didn't hear the alarms, nor did he notice the frantic actions of the medical team as they tried to save Danny's life but he did react when his hand was forcefully removed from Danny's. "What the fuck are you doing?" he exclaimed, still not understanding what was happening around him. He tried to grab Danny's hand but found someone stopping him. It was then, he heard the alarms and saw the frantic actions of the medics.
"CLEAR!" one the medics yelled as he prepared to shock his patient, in attempt to gain a pulse.
"Oh Danny," Phil cried as tears streamed down his face. "Danny, come on kid you have to fight." He gently brushed a couple of wayward strands of hair off his cold, clammy forehead. "Fight Danny. Don't let that bastard win."
"CLEAR!" the medic yelled again, when the first attempt didn't regain a pulse.
Phil closed his eyes as he felt nausea threaten, as he watched Danny's body jerk as the electric current shot through his body. "Please Danny, I could never forgive myself if you didn't pull through," he whispered. "You're so brave, braver than I could ever be. Please Danny, don't quit, and don't give up. There are so many people that care about you."
"I've got a pulse," the medic yelled. "Sam," he yelled at the helicopter pilot. "Whatever your ETA is, you need to cut it in half..." He trailed off, his words and the tone of his voice filling his silence.
Phil let out a silent pray of thanks. "That's it, Danny, you hang in there. I swear to you, when you wake up, someone will be there for you. You're not going to be alone, I promise," he said in a near whisper. "You're never going to be alone again." He moved forward and resumed his supportive hold of Danny's hand, while with his other hand he gently stroked Danny's forehead. Tears continued to stream down his face. Danny was far too young to die. But he had seen it before. He had seen too many times during his time in the army and Danny wasn't going to one of young brave men, he saw cut down in the prime of their lives. He didn't think he could live with it, he knew he wouldn't be able to tell Viv and.... Jack, especially Jack. Jack had really bonded with their latest addition to the team.
Phil willed the chopper faster. If he thought positively, they would get to the hospital faster. That Danny would get treatment faster, that Danny would survive. He felt the helicopter begin to descend and shifted his position so he would be in the way of the people that would hopefully give Danny life saving treatment.
The door burst open and a new set of faces with the same questions arrived. The rotor blades hadn't even stopped turning before they had Danny out of the helicopter and racing towards the entrance with Phil in hot pursuit.
Phil raced after the gurney, reaching forward he grasped Danny's hand once again. He didn't know why he did this, Danny was completely unresponsive. He liked to think that Danny would know he wasn't alone, but maybe it was for his emotional state as well. Maybe he felt if he clung to Danny's hand, he was in some way helping Danny. But he knew he wasn't, he knew he was only doing for his own selfish reasons. He had only hoped that his actions were in some way comforting to Danny, so some how knew that he wasn't alone. He raced with Danny's gurney through the endless hospital corridors.
"Sir, you will have to wait here."
"What?" Phil explained. "Why? No I need to be there for him."
"Sir once he's out of surgery we will inform you and you need that arm seen to."
Phil found himself nodding as he stepped backwards and collapsed against the wall, letting his head fall into his hands. The grim expression on the surgeons' faces haunted him. Their clipped tones were like a knife in his gut. They didn't hold out much hope that Danny would survive the surgery. He bit his lip as the pain shot through his arm. He had come out of it with barely a scratch like he had when Marco Alvarez had first strike at his friends, but Danny wasn't going to die like Max Collins had. Danny was going be alive to bug Jack for a lot longer.
"Phil."
Phil's head shoot up as he heard a familiar, gentle voice. "V-Viv," he stammered as he came face to face with Viv.
"Phil, you're hurt. You need that tended to," Viv said gently as she touched his shoulder.
"Its fine, it will wait," Phil growled.
"No it won't," Viv replied shortly. "You need treatment now!"
"NO I DON'T, it will wait," Phil yelled as he turned away.
Viv sighed there was obviously far more happening than met the eye. "Phil what's up? Where's Jack. Why are you sitting outside the OR?" she questioned.
"Danny, oh Danny. It's all my fault," Phil whispered as he buried his head in his hands.
"Danny, you've found Danny?"
"Yes, he's in there," Phil said as he pointed towards the OR. "His injuries were far too serious for the hospital in Poughkeepsie to deal with. When I found him, oh god Viv, it's all my fault. That bastard tortured him, he was his father. How can a father do that to his child?"
Viv ran a gentle thumb over Phil's cheek wiping away his tears. "I don't know Phil, Marco Alvarez is not human. But Danny is and he will pull through his. But he will need all of us when he wakes up, so let's get that arm tended to."
Phil nodded and slowly pulled himself to his feet with Viv's help. He took one final look at the OR before heading towards the elevators.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Jack blinked his eyes and groaned as he slowly began to regain consciousness. Where was he? What the hell had happened? He opened his eyes and looked around, as he tried to work out where he was and what had happened. Why was the car on an angle? Why could he hear the rushing of water? Why was it so cold? He tried to find the answers to these questions, but only found more questions.
He slowly leaned back in his seat and tried to work out the clinks in his back. He looked at his surroundings; his car was on some bank with a fast moving river just below him. He looked to his left and saw tire tracks down the steep tree covered slope. In his confused mind, he concluded that he must have come from there, but why? Then it hit him like a punch to the gut - Danny. Oh god Danny, he thought. He had been driving from Poughkeepsie to New York because Danny's injuries had been far too serious for them to deal with. They didn't even know if Danny would make the journey to Mount Sinai but they didn't have any choice. Danny would die if had stayed at Poughkeepsie. He closed his eyes as he thought of the moment he had been told of Danny's condition.
Jack burst into the hospital and ran up to the desk. "Two of my agent's were brought in earlier, where are they?" he asked breathlessly.The young receptionist looked up nervously. "Sir, can I see some ID and the names of your agents?" she asked quickly.
Jack glared at her, before he pulled his ID and slammed it on to the desk. "My name is Special Agent Jack Malone and my agents are Special Agents Phil Glanville and Danny Taylor," he growled.
The receptionist looked down and furiously started to type, trying to avoid eye contact with ice cold eyes. As the results came up she stared at them, as she tried to comprehend what she was looking at - it just didn't make sense. "Sir, I from what I am reading they have both been discharged," she stammered.
"What!" Jack exclaimed. "That can't be true; I know for a fact that Phil was shot and Danny... Danny." He couldn't continue.
"Sir, if you would like, I get a doctor for you to talk to," the receptionist said with a slight smile.
"What! U-mm, thanks that would be great," he sighed. He closed his eyes, and raked his hands through his dishevelled hair. He looked around the small waiting room for any sign of his agents, but he some how knew that he wouldn't see them. Why would his agents be discharged if they injured? Maybe, maybe.... no if Danny and Phil were dead, then the system wouldn't list them as discharged. The only plausible explanation was that there was an error in the system.
"Excuse me, are you Agent Malone?"
Jack looked up and found himself staring at a middle aged doctor wearing scrubs. "Y-Yeah," he stammered, as he tried to read the doctor's body language. But he was just too tired, all he wanted to know was that his agents where fine and that they were probably on their way back to New York, but some how he knew this wouldn't be the case. "How are my agents?" he asked desperately.
"Agent Glanville sustained a gunshot wound to his upper left arm. It was a through and through and he should be fine," the doctor started. He looked around, knowing that when he told Agent Malone about Agent Taylor it should be in private.
"He should be?" Jack questioned, at the same time wondering why the doctor hadn't told him about Danny.
"He discharged himself before we could treat him."
"What? Why?" Jack exclaimed.
"I think we should talk about this in my office," the doctor suggested.
"No, why did Phil discharge himself?" Jack demanded. He knew Phil had done some reckless things in this life and he knew had a disregard to medical attention but this just didn't make sense.
"Sir, I really think it would be better if we discuss this in my office," the doctor tried again.
"No, you god damn tell me here. I don't have time for these games," Jack yelled.
"Okay then, but I must insist that you sit."
Jack frowned but found the doctor's request. Ice cold fear wrapped around him. Why had Phil discharged himself? Danny, he thought, oh god Danny. He closed his eyes and continued to rack his hands through his hair. "Please just tell me. Don't leave me hanging like this," he pleaded.
The doctor sighed as he eyed the tired, dishevelled looking agent, carefully. "Agent Glanville discharged himself before treatment because he was travelling down to New York," he started.
"What? I don't understand? Why is he travelling to New York without treatment?" Jack stammered as he began to fire off questions.
"He travelled down to New York because Agent Taylor was travelling down to New York," the doctor started slowly, not knowing how to phase his news.
"Why? Why are they both travelling down to New York? What aren't you telling me doc?" Jack demanded.
"They are travelling down to New York because of Agent Taylor's injuries. They are too severe for us to deal with. We are not equipped to deal with them, so we are having him medivaced to Mount Sinai in New York."
Jack clenched his jaw as he felt nausea threaten. "What are his injuries?" he managed to blurt out.
"At least six broken ribs, two of which have punctured his left lung, internal bleeding, a two day old gunshot wound to his shoulder that still has bullet fragments in it, a broken wrist, concussion, various lacerations," the doctor said as he reeled off, what seemed like a never ending list. "Some of the wounds have become infected. We have started him on a cocktail of antibiotics to try and prevent pneumonia. But with his present condition and the fact he was held in a cold, damp room for the last couple of days, it's a real possibility that he will contract it."
"Thanks doc," Jack managed to blurt out, before he took off towards the bathroom, where he found himself emptying the contents of his stomach into a basin. Tears streamed down his face, this was so unfair, so messed up. Danny was so young, he had spent years trying to escape his father. He had worked so hard to rebuild his life and now, when he was doing so well, the man whose hands should have protected him may take that life from him.
Jack closed his eyes and bit back tears as he thought of Danny. Memories came flooding back to him. He was driving down to New York on the interstate and because of the snow, there had been a crash and the road was closed, so he had taken to the back roads. He vaguely remembered passing the military training academy at West Point but he hadn't reached the city. He shook his head as he forced his confused, fatigued, fearful brain into gear. The water level in the car was rising; he had to get out fast. He looked out of the driver's window only to see torrents of white water. Undoing his seatbelt, he climbed stiffly across the car to passenger's side and tried the door - but it wouldn't budge. He felt his panic rising with the rising water. He started to kick the door, hoping it would give. Finally after what felt like ages, the door flung open and he collapsed on to the muddy river bank. He rolled over on to his back as he gasped for air. With trembling fingers he pulled out his cell phone and dialled a number.
"Freedman," Special Agent Rick Freedman, one Jack's oldest friends in the FBI said as he answered his phone. He frowned when there was nothing but silence on the other end. He pulled his phone from his ear and stared at the caller ID. "Jack?"
"R-Rick, u-mm," Jack stammered, as he slowly sat up and pulled his knees to his chest.
"That would be right considering you phoned me," Rick joked, but he soon turned serious, when he continued to get nothing but silence on Jack's end. "Jack, hey man, are you alright?"
"I-I, Rick, I-I, u-mm I-I think so," Jack stammered.
"Jack what happened? Have you found Danny?"
"Danny? Oh god Danny, it's all my fault, it's all my fault," Jack sobbed as tears streamed down his face.
"Jack you're going to have to tell what me what happened. Why is it you fault?" Rick asked gently, his concern growing for his friend by the second. He grabbed his coat and his car keys and headed towards the elevator. "Jack where are you?"
"Car crash"
"Okay Jack you're going to have to give me more than that. Who was in the car crash?" Rick asked gently, as he furiously stabbed the button to the basement.
"No, Danny, Danny was tortured, they're medivacing him to Mount Sinai," Jack blurted out
"So you were in a car crash?" Rick concluded, wincing when Jack told him about Danny. "Where are you?"
"U-mm I-I, I-I"
Rick closed his eyes, as his mind conjured up images of an injured Jack Malone. "Jack quit screwing around and tell where the fuck you are!" he yelled, reluctantly.
Jack shook his head; it was as though the yelling voice had cleared the fog in his brain. "The interstate was closed so I took a back road. I am pretty sure I have passed West Point, but I haven't reached the city yet. I'm by a river."
"Okay I think I know where you are, Jack can you get yourself up to the road?" Rick asked he got into his car and started it.
"U-mm, yeah, yes I can."
"Hang tight, Jack. I will be there soon," Rick reassured,
Jack closed his eyes as he disconnected the call. He turned his head and looked up at the steep muddy slope. He took a breath as he slowly started up the steep slope, but with step he slid half a step back. Eventually, after what felt like a lifetime he reached the top of the slope - breathing hard. He leaned against a tree as he tried to catch his breath. He didn't know how he had been waiting when he hear a car horn.
"Jack," Rick yelled from his Dodge pickup.
Jack looked up and found himself walking over to his lift, where he silently and stiffly climbed aboard. He muttered thanks to Rick, before he continued to sink into his guilt ridden thoughts.
Rick frowned; Jack always made some comment about his truck; always telling him that he didn't need the thing in the city, but not this time. This he just sat in silence and looked glumly at his feet. "Jack are you alright?" he finally asked.
"Fine, just take me to Mount Sinai," Jack growled softly
"Jack, do you have a headache, or blurred vision? Do you feel sick?" Rick asked, as he was looking for signs of concussion. As he debated with whether or not, to take his friend to a local hospital or wait until they got to Mount Sinai.
"I don't have a god damn concussion," Jack growled. "Just take me to Mount Sinai!"
"Okay, okay," Rick retorted. He sighed, at least Jack was aware enough to realise he was checking for signs of concussion. "The kid has really got to you, hasn't he?"
Jack looked up with guilt and pain filled eyes. "Please Rick just take me to Mount Sinai," he pleaded.
"Sure Jack, no problem," Rick said softly, as he pulled back onto the road and headed towards city. The moment he saw the look in his friend's eyes, he forgot all about his less than courteous manner.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Phil began to pace the room in ever decreasing circles like a caged lion. Each movement, each sound caused him to jump and glare desperately towards the imagery sound before he resumed pacing again.
"Phil will you cut that out," Viv exclaimed, when Phil resumed his pacing. "Danny's going to need us to get through this and you can't help him, if you don't rest as you have been told to do!"
Phil glared at Viv. "Viv it's my fault this happened. If I had..." But he was cut off by Viv.
"If you had done what, Phil?" Viv started in a calm voice, as she tried to hold the fort, like she had so often before. "If you had read Danny's mind and realised his father was alive and blackmailing him, then maybe this wouldn't have happened? But you didn't, because you're not a mind reader."
"But it's my god damn fault!"
"Why is it you're fault?" Viv questioned. "Did you tell Mr. Alvarez where Danny was? Did you shoot Danny? Did you beat him?"
"No, no of course not. I would never do that!" Phil exclaimed, as he racked his hands through his dishevelled hair.
"I know you wouldn't, Phil. But then how is it your fault?"
"Because, because I was such a bastard to him. If I had been more welcoming then maybe he would trust us enough to tell us. But no I had to be a pig headed bastard, and because of that Danny is probably dead," Phil said almost yelling.
Viv took a moment to size up the situation before replying. "Sure you could've been more welcoming, but I don't think that would've changed anything. Danny's been passed from one disinterested person to another, one abusive person to another, his whole life. I think he's too scared to trust anyone, maybe he doesn't even know how," Viv said finishing in a near whisper as she bit back tears. "But don't give up on him yet. The one thing I know about Danny, is that he is a fighter."
Phil nodded sadly. He leant against the wall, and slid down it. He held his head in his hands and silently wept. He would never tell anyone about what exactly transpired in that warehouse, but it had changed him. "I hope so Viv I hope so," he whispered into his hands. His head shot up as soon as he heard a door opening. He was both relieved and disappointed to see Jack standing in the door way.
"Jack what the hell happened to you?" Viv exclaimed, as she saw his battered appearance.
"U-mm," Jack said absentmindedly as he surveyed the tiny waiting room. "U-mm car crash."
"What!?" Phil said as he was pulled out his trace like state.
"Jack, are you okay? Have you had yourself checked out?" Viv questioned quickly
"I'm fine, Rick picked me up and took me to the ER to be checked out," Jack said in the same distracted tone. He was just about to ask about Danny when Viv cut in.
"What happened?"
"I-I, the interstate was closed because of a crash, so took to the back roads. I-I guess I was driving too fast and I wasn't paying enough attention. I lost control around a corner and ended up down the river bank," Jack said tiredly. "Any news on Danny?" he added quickly.
"No," Phil said quietly. "We've waiting for hours! Why wouldn't they tell us anything?"
"They will as soon as they know anything," Viv said gently, as she looked between the two men.
"Damn it, I should have found him earlier, I should have looked for earlier. Then he wouldn't be in the state he is in," Jack exclaimed as he started to pace.
Viv sighed and shook her head. "Jack it's not your fault..." But she was soon cut off by Jack.
"I should've noticed something was wrong. I should've helped him. I thought he knew he could trust me!"
"Damn it Jack, its no one's fault apart from Marco Alvarez's. You know Danny's history, as I was explaining to Phil, how many people do you think Danny trusted and they betrayed his trust?" Viv said as she tried to reason with Jack.
"Viv I don't care how you phrase it, but it is my fault." Jack was just about to continue when the door opened.
"Are you here for Agent Taylor?" the doctor in his forties asked.
"Yes!" Phil said quickly as he stood up. "How is he?"
"I'm Doctor Clegg; Agent Taylor's surgeon," Doctor Clegg said as he introduced himself. "Firstly despite our doubts, Agent Taylor has made it through surgery."
The remaining team collective let out the breath they where holding. Phil was the first to recover. "How is he? Is he going to make a full recovery?" he asked.
"He is still in a critical condition. We managed to repair the lung and we think we have stopped all of the bleeding. But the next 48 hours will be critical. If he can make it through those 48 hours, I am cautiously optimistic he will make a fully recovery."
"Can we see him?" Phil asked
"He has been through major surgery. He needs to rest," Doctor Clegg started
"I won't disturb him; I just wanna sit with him. I just want him to know, he's not alone and he's safe," Phil explained in a slightly lost voice.
"Okay then," Doctor Clegg sighed. "I will have someone show you to his room, once we have him settled."
"Thank you Doctor," Viv said with a smile, as she glared at the other two men.
"I-I've g-gotta go," Jack stammered, as he started to bolt out of the room. He was so racked with guilt that he couldn't sit with Danny. He couldn't see the damage that he could have prevented. It was all his fault.
"Where are you going?" Viv asked as Jack bolted out of the tiny, airless room.
"Suspects. U-mm the people that held Danny, gotta interrogate them."
"Jack, it's not our case anymore. Let another unit do it," Viv suggested gently.
"NO I don't want them to fuck it up. Those bastards went after my team. They put one of MY agents in the hospital, they damn near killed him and they still might do!" Jack yelled. "I am not going to let anyone else deal with it." Without another word, Jack bolted from the room and sprinted down the corridors. He just had to get out. It was his entire fault. At least if he interrogated those bastards, he was doing something to help Danny.