Chapter 1 - 6 | Chapter 7 - 10 | Chapter 11 - 13 | Chapter 14 - 15
Chapter 7Danny glanced up at the trees and then at the grass below as he tried to estimate the wind speed. Pausing, he tried to calculate the necessary adjustments. Lowering his head, he looked through the scope of the SV-98 sniper rifle and adjusted his aim on the target. Diego had set up a melon, two and half miles away from his present location. He knew he had to nail it for more than one reason. He took a deep breath and moved his finger onto the trigger, taking one final glance through the scope. He squeezed the trigger. The pop from the silenced weapon made no disturbance through the still morning. Danny breathed a sigh of relief as he watched his target explode. Hopefully he had bought his family… the team… himself… a couple more weeks. Lucia and Chris were safe and as soon as he was through with this op, he would get them out of here. But therein was the problem: by finishing this op and returning to his previous life, Lucia would know he had been lying and deceiving her. She wouldn't want anything to do with him. Emptying the gun chamber, he rolled onto his back laying the gun across his chest and closed his eyes. He didn't care if Lucia and Chris were part of his life after this op—ok that was a lie—but he did just want them to be safe and away from this lifestyle even if that meant being away from him as well.
"Nice shot!"
Danny jumped and looked up to see Carlos standing over him. He was annoyed with himself, over the months he had spend in Colombia he had prided himself with his increased senses and reactions… but not today. Carlos had gotten right up to him without his knowledge. What if it had been someone else? What if Carlos had wanted him dead? Danny shuddered at the very thought. He quickly stood up so that he could be at eye level with Carlos. "Thanks."
"If you carry on shooting like that, I may have a job for you," Carlos said as he looked at his latest recruit who had proved to be far more valuable than the usual lay-abouts that he employed. Even though Carlos couldn't quite read this guy, he knew that when he gave AJ his latest assignment he would find out how loyal AJ would be.
Danny eyed Carlos with suspicion. What would this job entail? Whatever it was he knew he wouldn't have a choice, not if he didn't want to put the people he loved in danger. He gave a fake smile as he tried to mask his fears. "Of course. I would be honoured to help if this job is of the utmost importance to the cartel," Danny said as he tried to keep up his cheerful, confident façade. He knew the job wouldn't be moral, but what choice did he have? Did he have any morals in his new life?
"Good," Carlos replied, "I will inform you nearer the time if you have qualified for this assignment. You will have to excuse me. I have pressing issues that need my attention." With that Carlos turned and left Danny to his own thoughts.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Colombia – Carlos's Office
Carlos's daughter, Lucia, had been distracted lately. She didn't seem to fear him anymore, and as he governed his staff by fear, this was not a good thing. He intended to find out who or what was distracting her… and deal with them. Just like he had done with the father of her child.
Carlos paced back around his office as he waited for Lucia to turn meet with him. He, Carlos Vega, didn't wait for anyone. This was further evidence that Lucia had been distracted by some thing or someone, and he was going to put an end to that distraction. He couldn't have Lucia distracted, especially when the US government continued to clamp down on drugs and terrorism. He needed Lucia. He needed her to insure that the deals when through. He needed to intimidate her… to remind her what would happen if she started to lose business. A light knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Enter," Carlos said a stood behind the solid oak imposing desk. He felt his blood boil as he watched Lucia waltz in with a spring in her step. "Sit," he ordered.
Lucia remained standing and glared at her father as he stood behind his imposing, solid oak desk – which had been a gift from her mother who Carlos had murdered. For most of her life, she'd feared her father, but she no longer feared him because she now had AJ. When she lay in AJ's arms at night, she felt safe, not only for herself, but also for her son – Chris – as well. She loved being with him. Not only was he funny and sweet, but also he was great with Chris. He was also intelligence and spoke fluent English. Only in her dreams did she believe that she would end up being with a man like AJ. Lucia blinked a couple of times as she pulled herself back into reality. She thought of her boys and gathered her strength.
"I'd rather stand," she said as she continued to glare at her father.
Carlos returned the glare to his daughter in disgust. Since when had she become this arrogant, he thought? He was determined he find out, and once he had… whoever had given his daughter this air of confidence would wish that they hadn't. "You will do what I tell you to do, you ungrateful little whore," Carlos yelled.
The words stung her and Lucia bit back tears. She thought of Chris and AJ, and the strength that they gave her everyday. The strength she needed to see herself through each of these hellhole days she called her life. "Papa, I'm not a child anymore. I'm not scared of you anymore," Lucia said as she tried to control her fear and anger. "I will continue to do your bloody work but quit treating me like dirt. Quit treating me like a child with the stuff you force me to do."
Carlos picked up the glass paperweight on this desk and threw it across the room, smiling as he saw fear enter his daughter's eyes. "If you're not careful, you will end up like your mother. And whoever is making you this confident and disrespectful of me, I will find out and I will kill them."
"Do want you want Papa! The reason behind this new confidence is that I am no longer scared of you. I am tired of being the scared little call girl for your cartel. Screw you dad and screw the cartel," Lucia said as she stormed out of the office slamming the door behind her. Before she could make a fast getaway, she felt someone come up behind her and span around. Her stomach felt queasy as she came face to face with Diego.
"Piss off Diego. I can't deal with you and your little sleazy games right now," she said as she tried to pull away from him, but Diego forced her against the wall.
"Oh but you'll have to my sweet," Diego said as he wrapped his hands around her hips. "I know about you and AJ. If you want your little AJ to stay alive, you will let me have some fun with you," he continued as he pressed his body against hers.
Lucia bit her lip as she tried to hide her fears. She gathered all her strength as she leaned forward and whispered into Diego's ear. "You don't want to do that." She closed her eyes as she remembered every time Diego had tried to force himself on her. "Because if you do, I will tell my father about every time you tried to rape me. My father may not love me, but he doesn't like his property being violated. Just think of what he would do to you." She leaned back and, despite her fears, she smiled as Diego backed off and a glint of fear flash through his eyes.
"Y-you wouldn't do that," Diego stammered.
"Oh I would," she smiled at him again. "So it's agreed. You won't tell my father about AJ and I won't tell him about you." Lucia watched Diego nod nervously; she turned and walked quickly out of the house before she collapsed against the wall.
She let the tears she had been holding back for so long fall. She had always been tough and strong, but finally she had someone to protect her. It felt great to let her guard down a little. But she couldn't risk AJ's life because of it. She loved AJ and she just didn't know how she would break it to him… how she would live without him.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
New York
Sam sat on a rock outcrop looking out on the Atlantic. She didn't feel the icy wind that whipped around her. She didn't feel the tears that stung her eyes. She didn't hear Jack calling her name softly. For today was November 1st… today would have been Danny's 33rd birthday. It had been nearly 6 months since Danny's death and none of them had gotten over it. She had accepted long ago that one of them might die in the line of duty. But she couldn't accept… she couldn't deal with the way in which Danny had died. She jumped slightly as she felt someone place a coat around her shoulders.
Jack approached Sam calling her name. He raised an eyebrow in concern when she didn't respond. He knew she would be here, especially today. Jack knew that, at some point today, he would have ended up here as well. It wouldn't surprise him if at some point today the whole team ended up here. As he reached Sam, he slowly bent down and wrapped his coat around her shoulders, vaguely noticing how the coat dwarfed her slender frame. He sat down next to her. "I knew you would be here," he said as he too looked out on the cold grey ocean.
"It was Danny's favourite place," Sam said as she felt the tears roll down her face. "If we'd had been a hard case, he used to come up here. He said how he liked that it was away from everything and he could just sit up here and think."
Jack moved his stare from the ocean and looked at Sam. They both knew what `away from everything' meant. "I know Sam. I know." He clenched his jaw. "I am so sorry Sam, none of this should have happened."
"Of course it shouldn't have happened." She turned to face him. "But it's no ones fault. It's not my fault. It's not yours, it's not Martin's, and it's not Viv's. The only person to blame for this is Dornvald."
"And we have no idea where he is," Jack said finishing Sam's sentence. "I need to find him, Sam. I need to make him pay for what he's done. He killed Danny and he's killing Martin."
"No Jack… we need to find him. I think that will be the only way we will be able to move on. The only other way would be for Danny to come back to life," Sam said as she let the tears fall freely her eyes and collapsed into Jack's arms. "Why us Jack? Why our team?"
Jack wrapped his arms around her. "I don't know Sam, I don't know. But I am going to find out."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
New York
Martin stared blankly at the computer screen. He had considered calling in sick today, but he knew as soon as he did Sam, Viv and Jack would be kicking down his door. They didn't trust him anymore and who could blame them… he had killed Danny. If he had called in sick, they would have kicked down the door because they would have thought he was about to kill himself. Which just proved how weak they thought he was. His father refused to talk to him now, which he was thankful of. He didn't know how many more of those Washington, met the great and the good events, he could take. How many times he could walk around a room with a fake smile, holding polite conversations with people of importance. People that would benefit his career… sorry his father's career, Martin thought sardonically. He smelled the mug of steaming coffee before he saw it.
Viv glanced across the near empty office, until her eyes settled on the defeated figure of Martin Fitzgerald. She walked out, returning shortly after with a steaming mug of coffee and a sugary doughnut, which she knew Martin loved. She put her hand on his shoulder, flinching slightly when she felt how boney it was and placed the items in front of him. "I thought you may need this to get through that," she said pointing to the stack of paperwork that lay on Martin's desk. "Do you want a hand with it?"
Martin looked from the stack of paper on his desk to the coffee and doughnut that Viv had just brought him to Viv herself. He tried to give her a smile, but couldn't. He couldn't pretend to the team. He could fake it to his father… but his father wouldn't know the difference. He shook his head. "Thanks Viv, but I will do it." But as he glanced across at his stack of paperwork, he saw it had been halved.
"I'll do half," Viv said as she put some of the paper on her desk. "And then once we have finished. We will go and grab some breakfast or lunch or whatever meal it is once we have finished." She looked across to see Martin's head droop. She walked towards desk and knelt beside him. Sensing Viv was beside him again, he tried to sound cheerful but before the words were out of his mouth he knew he had failed, just like he had failed Danny. "Viv, I'm fine."
"Martin you have to find a way to forgive yourself. Danny would have never blamed you."
"But Viv, you weren't there. You didn't see the look in his eyes when they killed him. He blamed me."
Martin's words stung her. She hadn't been there. She hadn't been there for Jack. She hadn't been there for Sam. She hadn't been there- she hadn't been there for the boys. But she was now, and she was not going to let them destroy Martin. Viv put her arm around Martin's shoulders. "I know I wasn't there. But I knew Danny and there is no way he would have blamed you," Viv said hoping that Martin would believe her.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Colombia
Danny rolled over and stared at the glowing digits – which read 05:30. He slowly got up hoping not to wake Lucia. He hated doing it this way, but it was the only way that they could be together. It had taken a long time to persuade Lucia that, despite the risks, he still wanted to be with her. That he'd rather spend just one day with her, than a lifetime with someone else. He felt Lucia grab his arm.
"Don't go," Lucia said as she looked at Danny through sleep-hazed eyes.
Danny lay back down and pulled Lucia towards him, kissing her gently on the neck. "You know I don't want to. I can't wait until the day we can lie in bed together all day. But until that day, it has to be like this."
"I know," Lucia replied sadly. She stared at Danny a moment appreciating his brown eyes that seemed to soften after their blissful night together and unruly mass of hair. Suddenly, she felt compelled to ask, "Do you think we could ever go on holiday together? I love to go to the US… to New York."
Danny closed his eyes as he thought about it. America… New York… home. "Maybe. I'd love to go as well." You just don't know how much I would love to go. How much I want to go home. How much I want to take you and Chris back with me, Danny thought. "I've gotta go" Danny said reluctantly, as he rose and dressed quickly. "I will see you later." He bent down one last time and kissed her passionately before walking out, back into his immoral life.
Danny moved stealthy across the compound having previously worked out all of the CCTV `dead-patches'. He entered his apartment and slid down against the wall. He rested his head in his hands and wondered how much longer he could do this. Maybe this job that Carlos had lined up… maybe this was the big one… the reason why he was here. He sighed as he got ready for his daily twelve mile run… maybe he would push fifteen miles today.
After his run and shower, Danny ran his hand through his untamed hair as he strode into the main house. Carlos had summoned him to his office and Danny was terrified. In his opinion, it could only be two things. He got the big job or… Carlos had found out about him and Lucia. Reaching the office, he looked down the corridor to see Diego creeping around, sneering. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. He waited and hoped that these weren't his last moments on earth. He hoped that he hadn't sent his family and the team to their deaths, just because he wanted some happiness in his life. He hoped Lucia and Chris would be safe.
A harsh voice pulled him out his thoughts. "Enter." Danny tried to control his body language as he entered the office.
"You requested to see me," Danny said as he stood in front of Carlos's desk.
"Yes, AJ, please take a seat," Carlos replied.
Danny slowly sat down on the hard, uncomfortable chair. He watched as Carlos picked up a large brown envelope and crossed the room towards him. "Congratulations. You have the job," Carlos paused before continuing in a matter of fact way. "I want you to kill these two people," he said as he pushed the envelope into Danny's hand.
Danny opened the envelope with trembling fingers. He suddenly found it difficult to breathe as he looked at the two photos. He pulled out his lighter and set the two photos alight; watching as the flames slowly destroyed the smiling photos of the Director of the DEA and the Deputy Director of the FBI.
"I'll do it" Danny said as he looked coldly at Carlos, the man who would be sending him to his death. But he didn't have a choice.
Chapter 8
"I'll do it." Danny heard himself say as he stared at the two photos, which were rapidly being consumed by the flames. What choice did he have? One life to save the lives of at least twenty, Danny thought as he quickly calculated the number of people he had put at risk. Even if his target was a random person, he really didn't think he could do it. It made matters worse that he knew one of the targets. Sure Martin's dad was a jerk and didn't deserve to have a son. But Martin didn't deserve to become an orphan like him. He had given Martin a hard time at the beginning but… that was just to toughen him up. But as he got to know Martin, he began to see the parallels between them and they had become friends.
Danny glanced at Carlos to see he was talking again and tried to focus on the words, but he couldn't. He was too numb with fear and shock to make them out. He pinched himself as he tried to pull himself back into reality. "I'm sorry sir. Can you repeat that?" Danny asked, trying not to wince at the impending attack of words.
"Of course AJ. I was saying before you zoned out, that I appreciate you doing this job for the cartel. But you must not leave a trace, you must not miss… or the consequences could be fatal…for you."
"I understand sir," Danny replied as he continued to try and hide his emotions… try to hide the fear… the apprehensiveness. He vaguely heard Carlos, he vaguely heard himself thanking Carlos. The next thing he was conscious of was walking out of Carlos's office. He didn't stop or look around until he got to his apartment where for the second time that day he collapsed against the wall and held his head in his hands.
He remembered his meeting with Michael Clarke, and for the first time he saw this meeting as his glimmer of hope. The CIA had to pull the plug now. They couldn't let him go through with this. But before they pulled the plug, he would grab Lucia and Chris. He would try and smuggle them into the US… to safety. He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his head. He had never felt so alone… so scared. Not even after his parents had died.
But now he was in a foreign country, in the most hellish situation imaginable. The only people that may be able to help him thought he was dead and if he contacted them he would be sending them to their deaths. He couldn't tell Lucia because he didn't want to put her or Chris in danger. And for all he knew, she may approve of the assignment. If he injured or killed himself, the op would still be carried out anyway. Danny felt tears roll down his face as he exhausted every option in his head. He just wanted to call Jack, and ask for help but he couldn't and he didn't even know if Jack would help him now. After all what Jack had done for him… this was how he repaid him. Jack was the first person in his life that shown faith in him… that had trusted him.
Danny glanced down at his watch – which read 23:38 – he struggled to stand up and leaned against the wall. He was meant to meet Lucia five minutes ago and it would take at least twenty minutes to get there. But for the first time since he had met her, he didn't want to go; he doubted he would he good company anyway. Maybe the CIA would stop the assassination assignment. Maybe he would have enough time to grab Lucia and Chris and escape. But he doubted he could ever go back to his life as Danny Taylor. The assassination would still go ahead regardless of what the CIA decided to do. The Director of the DEA and Victor Fitzgerald didn't deserve to die. Martin didn't deserve to become an orphan. Danny sank to the ground again as he let his thoughts take over. He had never been so scared or so alone his life.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Danny walked down the dusty street towards Michael Clarke's car in a daze. He hadn't been able to pull himself back into reality since Carlos had told him about the assignment. He had lay in bed that night holding Lucia, like if he didn't his whole world would come crashing down around him. Then this morning Carlos had told him that the assignment was in a week and he would have to travel up with Diego on Thursday – five days away. Since then, he had felt numb.
Danny approached the unsuspicious car, which he knew was armour plated. He quickly glanced around before he slipped in. He glared at Michael Clarke. "I know what they are planning," Danny said looking straight ahead unable to look Michael Clarke in the eyes.
"Good, good," Michael said smiling. "Are you involved?"
"Yes, t-they want me to carry out the assignment," Danny replied trying hard not to show his fears.
"Good, good," Michael replied again. "So how do you feel about killing your friend's father?"
Danny looked at Michael in disbelief. "Y-you want me to carry out the assignment?"
"Yes," he replied matter-of-factly.
Danny shook his head. "Sorry. I don't think I heard you right. You want me to murder the director of the DEA and deputy director of the FBI?" Danny questioned still in disbelief.
"You heard me right. If you don't, you know who will die and you can add your girlfriend and her kid to the list," Michael replied icily.
"You want me to become a murderer—a traitor to my country—so I can save the lives of the people I love," Danny said shaking, as he was unable to contain his emotions any longer. "I was never going to go back to my life as Danny Taylor. Was I?"
"Cheer up AJ, we will give you a new identity," Michael said patting Danny on the shoulder. "Anyway these guys are terrorists and drug dealers, and a threat to national security. What are two lives in the war on terror?"
"They're not the threat to national security…I am. Because of you, I am the threat!" Danny yelled.
"Chill AJ. We did give you a choice," Michael sneered.
"What choice?" Danny yelled as he quickly got out of the car and slammed the door.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Danny laid awake stroking Lucia's hair as she slept with her head resting against his chest. She was so beautiful and so intelligent—he didn't deserve her. He loved her, and all he wanted was to spend the rest of his life with her. But he couldn't. He had to go away. He had to leave her, like he had left his family… like he had left the team who he considered part of his family. He didn't think he could start his life again. Just how many times would the CIA or other events force him to start his life over? Was it too much to ask to be happy? Was it too much to ask to be loved? He held back the tears that stung his eyes. He felt Lucia stir beneath so he tried to comfort her before she woke up. He didn't want her to see him like this. He didn't want to say goodbye; he didn't know how.
Lucia blinked her eyes open and looked at AJ. He had seemed so tense and zoned out today. The last time he was like this was when he was concerned about taking drugs. But this was far worse. She knew that her father had some big assignment planned, and she hoped she hadn't put two and two together and got four. She hoped AJ wasn't tied up in this assignment, but she knew from personal experience that once her father assigned you to a job you had very little choice in the matter. She leaned up and looked into his soft brown eyes. Eyes she seemed to melt into every time she saw them. Eyes that belonged to AJ, who protected her, made her laugh, made her feel safe.
"What's the matter?" Lucia asked in concern as she stroked his stubbled cheek.
"Nothing, baby," Danny said trying to sound playful.
"That's crap. Why are you still awake?" she asked in a sceptical but gentle tone.
"I'm just thinking. That's all," he said as he looked into Lucia's beautiful eyes. It pained him to think that this could, probably would, be one of the last nights he would spend with her.
"You know you can talk to me. If we share our problems, we can get through things together," Lucia pleaded. She hated seeing AJ anxious like this.
Danny looked at Lucia and knew he could trust her. Even if she approved of the assignment, she would just think that he was apprehensive. "Your father" Danny started, wincing when Lucia flinched at the mentioning of her father. "Has given me this assignment, to assassinate the director of the DEA and the deputy director of the FBI. I'm just a little freaked out, that's all." Danny finished as he continued to stroke her hair. He hadn't told her the full story; then again he had also continued to lie to her.
Lucia shuddered when AJ told her that he had been given the assignment, which he obviously didn't want to do, but had little choice. But in Lucia's observation there was a little more that pre- op nerves going on. "There's more. Isn't there?" Lucia asked.
Danny took a deep breath and tried to control his nerves. "Luc, I don't want to do this… but its part of the op." He paused and tried to look her in the eyes. "After the op, I'm going to have to disappear for a while… I-I," Danny blinked back tears. "I-I just don't know how long. But as soon as I can come back, I will come back!"
Lucia threw her arms around Danny's neck and tried not to sob relentlessly into his shoulder. But she knew was fighting a losing battle. "I know you will," Lucia replied as she raised her tear- stained face to meet Danny's. She gave him a light kiss on the lips before continuing. "Do you think when you come back, we could get away from all this… away from my father… away from the cartel?"
Danny looked at Lucia, this was undoubtedly one of the hardest things he had ever done. He ran his hand through her hair and kissed her nose. Then he rested his forehead against her's. "Yeah, we will take that holiday you are dreaming about. We will go to New York."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
New York
Jack sat at his desk staring at the dozens of files that littered his desk. The dozens of applicants that wanted to replace Danny… that wanted to take Danny's place on his team. Van Doran had rung him yesterday summoning him to her office to tell him it had been ten months since Danny's death. Which he had to correct her because it had been nine months, three weeks, four days and twenty-two hours since Danny's murder, and why the hell was she reminding him of this? He knew how much time had passed since Danny's murder… given a bit of time, he could tell her the minutes and seconds, since Danny's murder. After ranting and raving for a while, Van Doran finally told him the reason why he was in her office. She wanted him to find Danny's replacement. She told him there were dozens of highly qualified agents, who wanted a place on his team. She told him that there were many more qualified agents than his present team members that wanted a place on his team. Jack hadn't known how to react, so he had just turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him. He must of slammed it harder than he thought, because the next time he walked pass Van Doran's office he saw the door being replaced, and a huge crack across the old one.
But now he was trawling through the stacks of files trying to find a match… trying to find the missing jigsaw puzzle piece. But he knew he wouldn't. He knew they had lost that piece in that warehouse nine months, three weeks, five days, nineteen hours, forty-five minutes and about twenty-six seconds ago. He had lost that piece, and he didn't think he would ever be able to complete the puzzle again not unless the ashes that they had scattered on the rocky outcrop over- looking the Atlantic miraculously reassembled themselves back into the form of Danny Taylor.
"Any luck?" a voice asked sadly.
Jack looked up at the voice that had pulled him out of his thoughts. "Not yet Viv, they're – they're just not-"
"They're not Danny," Viv finished softly.
"No they're not Danny," Jack repeated as he ran his hand through his hair. "How do I replace a guy like Danny?"
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Somewhere in Mexico
Danny felt his grip on the steering wheel slip from the sweat on his hands. He didn't know whether it was from the heat or fear. His last night with Lucia had been passionate to say the least. He didn't want to stop holding her, kissing her and touching her. But it had ended, like his life after his parents died had ended, like his life as Danny Taylor had ended. Now he was driving an old truck down a dusty road to his destination—a destination in which he would become a traitor and a cold-blooded killer. Maybe if it all went to hell, Diego would get caught in the crossfire. Then maybe Lucia would be safe at least from him. No she wouldn't, Danny thought sadly, he would have failed the op, and she along with everyone else he loved would be killed. He was so tempted to reach across the truck and grab Diego's cell-phone and ring the team asking for help… but he couldn't. Maybe his father had been right all those years ago… he was destined to a life of solitude. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn't realised that Diego had woken, until he felt the cold steel of Diego's gun against his head.
"Drive faster!" Diego growled.
Danny sighed. "You really don't have two brain cells to rub together, do you?"
"What?" Diego asked stupidly.
Danny sighed again. "We are driving with a sniper rifle to the location of where the director of the DEA and the deputy director of the FBI are going to be. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be a good idea to be stopped," Danny replied sarcastically.
"Oh," Diego replied as he tried to process Danny's words. "Oh right."
Danny shook his head; he hated the creep that was sitting next to him. He treated women like dirt; he abused kids. If he was Danny Taylor, he would've of slammed the guy against one of the walls in one of the interrogation rooms, but not in this life. In this life, he was associated with him. In this life, he was his co-worker. Danny had to stop thinking about it. He couldn't associate this piece of scum sitting next to him with Jack, Sam, Viv or Martin. Danny glanced around and realised that they had arrived at their destination, at the end of his life. In silence, Danny stopped the truck and walked around to the trunk. Among the general car junk of oilcans and trash, he pulled out a non-descript black duffel bag, which contained the gun, which would end his life. He slowly swung the bag over his shoulder and walked towards the building, all the time feeling sweat running down his back. Danny quickly picked the lock, trying not to leave a trace. Despite the heat, he was wearing gloves and a hat as he tried not to leave any DNA evidence. But Diego wasn't as smart. Which was a good thing and a bad thing, Danny thought. The good thing would be that it would be easier to pin the whole operation on Diego. The bad thing was and, more importantly, once they caught up with Diego, he would tell them everything in order to cut a deal. That's where the problem was. As much as he didn't want to, he had to protect Diego in order in protect himself. He turned around to see Diego wandering. "Hurry the hell up," Danny growled as he felt the tension of the op getting to him.
Danny slowly climbed the stairs, moving against the walls so he wouldn't be seen from the windows. Although his targets were half a mile away, he wasn't taking any chances. Once he reached the top floor, he bent low and quickly moved across the room. He leaned against the wall and quickly assembled the gun, shivering as he felt the cold metal against his skin. Maybe he could shoot to maim, not to kill. Danny let a nervous laugh escape, at this range, with this gun, it really couldn't just maim. The SV-98 had a killing range of about two and half miles and he was only half a mile away. Even if he aimed for an arm, his target probably would still die. He vaguely heard Diego telling him to get on with it. He felt as though he was on autopilot as he lay down and adjusted the rifle's scope. He lined Victor Fitzgerald – his friend's father- up in the crosshairs. He looked down at his shaking hands as thought of what he was about to do. He moved his finger onto trigger and took one final glance down the scope. He took one final breath of free air and pulled the trigger.
Chapter 9
Danny squeezed the trigger, moving the gun to the left at the last possible moment. He watched as the bullet dug itself – hopefully harmlessly – in to the wall behind Victor Fitzgerald. He watched as Victor and everyone around him ducked and took cover. He then silently prayed that no one was hurt.
As he was taking a deep breath to try and slow his heart rate, he suddenly heard an explosion behind him followed by a burning sensation on his arm. Spinning around quickly, he found Diego holding a smoking gun which was still pointed in his direction. He looked down at his arm to see a thin stream of blood running down it. Danny carefully felt around the wound, and was relieved to find the bullet had only skimmed his arm.
"What the hell was that for?" Danny yelled.
"You missed. Try again," Diego growled still pointing the gun.
"It's pointless. I didn't have a clear shot of the target, and I am not about to start taking random shots," Danny lied as he tore a strip of shirt off and crudely tied it around his injured arm, his eyes never leaving Diego.
"Why the hell not?" Diego said as he continued to aim his gun at Danny. This was his chance to make AJ suffer; this was his chance to kill him. AJ had stolen Lucia from him, and he wanted Lucia back. He took another wild shot at AJ.
Danny dove to one side as Diego, took another shot at him, he winced as he saw the light shatter above him, just where he was standing a few seconds ago. "What the hell are you doing? Do you want to give our position away?" Danny yelled. "The reason why I am not going to start taking random shots is that there are innocent people out there! There are kids out there!" He rolled to one side as Diego took another shot at him. He didn't want to do this – he hated Diego – but he really didn't have a choice. As he rolled again to avoid another shot, Danny pulled a knife from a sheathe on his leg and threw it at Diego. He watched as the knife struck Diego; he watched Diego fall. He knew Diego was dead. Danny realized at the moment that he'd just become a cold-blooded killer. Danny stood up and quickly dismantled his gun.
He walked over to Diego and whispered a short prayer over his body before he pulled the knife out of Diego's throat. He took one final glance around the room, hoping he hadn't left any evidence to link him to this crime… to the crimes. He ran down the stairs towards the truck pausing briefly as he considered if he should use it or not. He had to use it; he had to get it away from the crime scene. The truck would have tons of his DNA left all over it and it would also probably be linked to the cartel, which would put Lucia at risk. So leaving it at the crime scene would be stupid.
Danny threw the bag in the trunk and quickly started the truck and drove off. He did not notice the streets he was driving down; he was so wrapped up in what he had just done. How he had just become a cold-
blooded killer. Had he just sent everyone he loved to their deaths? Feeling the truck pull sharply to the right because he blew a tire, Danny silently swore and prayed that there was a spare tire in the truck. At least the truck was a good mile from the crime scene.
Getting out of the truck, he looked around with a paranoid gaze; he felt his heart rate increase as he saw the distinct black suburbans of the US federal government rush past. Cars, that ten months ago, he would have been relieved to see… but he now feared. He feared what they would bring. He feared that they would give him the treatment he now deserved. He prayed that Victor Fitzgerald was in one of those cars – unharmed. Danny shook his head as he tried to pull himself back to the job in hand. He walked around to the truck, always looking for agents of the FBI or the DEA who ten months ago, were his co-workers. But now they hunted him. As he reached down for the tire, he heard the squealing of tires around him and suddenly found himself surrounded by black sedans. Men in dark suits jumped out pointing guns at him, yelling at him to get down. Danny slowly sank to the ground with his hands behind his head.
This was it, Danny thought. He closed his eyes and tried to not to think of the team's disappointed faces looking down on him, shaking their heads. He let a single tear escape as he was pushed roughly to the ground and then pushed roughly into one of the cars. He didn't want to look at his fellow agents. He silently laughed as realised he wasn't even an FBI agent anymore. He hadn't been one for ten months. Since the day he'd faked his own death.
"You missed, AJ, I thought you were a hot-shot."
Danny breathed a sigh of relief but shivered at the same time. The FBI or DEA hadn't caught up with him yet, but he was in the hands of the psycho CIA agent, Michael Clarke. "I missed calculated the wind speed." Danny lied, praying that everyone that had become targets because of him were still safe… still alive.
Michael Clarke leaned forward. "Well you can say goodbye to your life now," Michael said laughing.
Danny felt his body tense up with fear, before everything went black.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Danny slowly opened his eyes and adjusted to his new surroundings. He was on a plane… if he wasn't mistaken, it was the same one that he had travelled down to Colombia on. Travelled down, sounded like he was on a vacation and the last ten months had been anything but a vacation. Lucia had made his life bearable, Lucia had saved him and he had abandoned her and her young child. Danny looked to the front of the cabin to see Michael Clarke discussing something he couldn't quite hear, something to do with `dumping the package' and `no trace'. Danny closed his eyes again, he really didn't want to know what Michael and his cronies were discussing… what lives they were destroying. He heard Michael's shoeless footsteps approach him across the soft carpeted cabin. He tried to pretend to still be unconscious, but a sharp kick to his chest told him otherwise.
"Wake up!" Michael growled.
Danny slowly opened his eyes again, and looked up at Michael. "What the hell do you want? Thinking about destroying my life again?" Danny said sarcastically.
"And why would I want to do that, Tony?" Michael replied smiling at Danny's confused expression. "Oh…sorry. I forgot to tell you. Your new name is Anthony `Tony' Gastillo, and here is your new life," Michael finished as he threw a file at Danny. "Even though you screwed up this assignment, we still have faith you can be used in another undercover operation."
"You bastard," Danny whispered. "You can't expect me to start a fresh again," he said as he slowly pushed himself up using the walls of the plane.
"I don't expect. I order you," Michael growled.
"You know, you're the first person I really wouldn't mind killing," Danny said as he glared at Michael. "And now I have the training. That's right, Michael. This little op you sent me on has trained me to black ops level," Danny finished as this time he was the one laughing. "I could kill the people you love and no one would know who did it."
"That's nice for you Tony. But I have the ace up my sleeve. I don't care for anyone. If you make any form of contact with your former team, your family, your girlfriend, her son… I will kill them," Michael replied as he allowed himself a grin as he watched Danny's shoulder slump in defeat.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Michael sadistically dumped Danny in New York while he awaited a signal to start the new operation with his new identity. A city that once felt so familiar… felt like home, now felt alien to him. The streets he once drove down at high speeds to catch a suspect, he now walked down in the shadows. Always looking around hoping not to see anyone from the team or his family… but secretly praying he would see them. He knew he couldn't contact them, but he could watch them. Danny shook his head, watching them sounded disturbing… sounded like the man he had killed. But that was all he could do… that would be as close as contact as he would have with them. He didn't have a passport and had no means of getting one. He had no means of getting to Lucia and Chris… unless he would do it illegally. He was already a fugitive. How dangerous could it be to skip across the border?
Seeing a police car, Danny ducked in to a narrow alleyway and felt the cold, damp walls close in on him. He adjusted the small backpack – which contained the small amount of his possessions – and carried on looking for a run down motel. A run down motel that wouldn't eat away at the few crumpled dollars he had in his pocket…a motel that wouldn't ask questions. He walked out of the alleyway, barely noticing the rain that had begun to fall. At the end of the street, he spied a flickering neon `motel' sign. Underneath it, read `vacancies'. Decay had eaten away at the sign, like it had with the rest of this area…like it was eating away at his life.
Once he had rented the room, he collapsed on the small, thin, unkempt bed, allowing himself a few moments before he prepared the room… an action that he would have to repeat for the rest of his life. He looked up at the stained ceiling, mesmerized by the patterns of dirt on it. Danny slowly sat up and looked around the small room, which judging by the peeling wallpaper probably hadn't been redecorated since the building had been constructed. He got up and started to move the limited, decaying furniture around the room. He positioned it in such away that wherever he was in the room he could always see who had entered. Just in case he ever had to make a quick escape. He would stay here a night before moving on. He would never be some where, more than a couple of nights before he moved on. Never spending long enough for people to recognise or remember him.
Danny felt a sharp pain across his stomach and realised that he hadn't eaten in two days. Pausing he looked around the room, once he was satisfied he crept out of the room pausing only briefly to place a hair between the door and the door frame, so that he would know if anyone had entered while he was out. He moved stealthily down the dusty, poorly lit corridors. Even though they were abandoned, he wasn't taking any chances. He shivered slightly as he stepped out into the rain and felt the rain run down his back. Sticking his hands into his pockets, he moved quickly into the shadows and towards the neon sign informing him that they sold food. In this neighbourhood, at this hour, they would have a disinterested check out girl who would have forgotten him as quickly as she had seen him.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Jack pulled his coat closer to his body as he felt the chill of the icy east wind whip around him. He was just tying up a couple of loose ends from their most recent case, but in all honestly he was taking his time. He didn't want to go to back to his desk… to the applicant files that wanted to replace Danny. He hadn't come any closer to finding a replacement and doubted he would anytime soon.
Glancing across the street, he noticed a tall, athletic, Hispanic man walk out of a convenience store. He looked like Danny, but he and the rest of the team were seeing Danny everywhere. The city held many memories of Danny for all of them. But something made Jack looked at the man again. Something about the way the man strolled down the sidewalk made Jack's heart skip a beat. But it couldn't be, Jack though, Danny was murdered ten months ago. Jack suddenly felt compelled to follow the man. From a distance, he watched the man enter a run down motel. Waiting a couple of minutes, he quickly crossed the street and entered the motel. He coughed slightly as his senses were overwhelmed by a musty damp smell, the smell of years of decay. He approached the clerk at the front desk. "That man that just entered. I have a business meeting with him. Which room is he staying in?" Jack asked quickly so as not to draw attention.
"He said that he didn't want to be disturbed," the clerk replied nervously.
Jack leaned across the desk and flashed his badge. "I have a business meeting with him. Which room is he in?" Jack asked again with an imposing glare.
"N-number 225," the clerk stammered as he handed over the rusty key.
"Thank you," Jack replied, as he took the key from the clerk's shaking hands and started to walk down the corridor.
Danny re-entered the motel with a small amount of supplies. As he walked down the corridor to his room, he reached up and unscrewed one of the bulbs, crushing it his jacket. As he walked towards his room, he began to scatter the shards of glass, finishing them as he reached his room. He scanned the door, noticing the hair remained intact. Drawing his gun he quickly entered his room, clearing it. He drew the curtains and shut off the light, and sank down in the corner of the room. He needed to think of his next move… he needed to think of how he could remain undetected… how he keep the danger away from the people he loved… how he would live his new life.
The sound of crunching glass and a key being inserted into the lock pulled him out of his thoughts. He drew his gun and quickly moved across the room.
Jack walked down the dusty, dark corridors. He suddenly heard the crunching of glass and drew out his flashlight and looked down. He frowned as he saw shards of glass scattered down the corridor. He followed the trail to find out that it roughly ended outside room 225, his destination. He paused briefly before trying the lock. It opened surprising easily so he stepped inside.
He felt the ice cold steel of a gun on his temple. He slowly moved his hand towards his own gun but thought better of it as he felt increased pressure on his temple.
"My name is Jack Malone of the FBI. I am just going to reach down into my pocket and show you my ID. Okay?" he told the gunman.
Danny felt his hand shake slightly as he realised whose head he was holding a gun to. He may have changed over the last ten months. He may now be a killer, but he hadn't changed that much. He wasn't about to kill his former boss, his former friend. He felt nauseous when he realized that he was still holding a gun at Jack's head. Lowering the gun, he quickly moved across the room.
Jack felt the gun leave his temple but still remained on edge. He cautiously called out into the darken room. "Is it ok if I turn on the light?" he asked and was surprised to hear a soft voice respond. Acknowledging the voice's reply, he slowly flicked on the light. Allowing his eyes to adjust to the light, he slowly scanned the room. As he scanned the room, he observed how the furniture had been positioned. His eyes finally came to rest on the figure in the far corner of the room. "Danny?" he asked not believing his eyes.
Danny looked up at Jack. The man looked like he had aged ten years since he had last seen him. Danny felt ashamed for what he had done, at what he was still doing. He didn't know how Jack could look at him after what he had done to them, especially after just holding a gun to his head.
"Jack I am so sorry. I am sorry for… I am sorry for I've done. And about the gun, and I…I just didn't know who it was," Danny replied in a frantic, panicked tone.
Jack looked at Danny as he tried to put the pieces together. The glass outside the room, the darkened room, the furniture – who or what was his agent running from? "Its okay, Danny," Jack responded in a soothing tone as he tried to reassure him. He felt like he was calming a frightened child by the wounded, scared look in Danny's eyes. "It's partly my fault. I shouldn't have sneaked up on you like that."
Danny looked at Jack in disbelief – how the hell could have it been Jack's fault? He was the one that had damn near put a bullet through Jack's brain. But that's who he was now. He was a killer – a cold- blooded, ruthless killer.
"Jack, how can it possibly be your fault? I was the one holding the gun," Danny exclaimed.
"Yes you were. But as you explained you didn't know who it was and as soon as I identified myself you put the gun down. You're going to be okay, Danny," Jack reassured again as he watched Danny cross the room and pick up a backpack. He noticed Danny's gun. It wasn't the standard issue Sig Sauer of an FBI agent and what was more concerning was that the gun had a silencer attached to it making it look like a an assassin's weapon. He continued to watch Danny as he slid the gun into his waistband and pulled his jacket over it. "Danny where are you going?" he asked. Jack was certain that Danny was in some kind of shock or an altered state. He had a vacant look in his eyes that made Jack's heart break.
"Away," Danny replied tonelessly as he tried to occupy himself with packing his small amount of possessions. He wanted to stay in New York but knew he couldn't anymore. He wanted to work on Jack's team again, but knew he couldn't. And now Jack was standing there questioning him, it made it harder still. But for their own safety, he had to keep moving. This is my life now, Danny thought, always on the run.
"Where's away?" Jack asked, blocking Danny's path. Jack looked at Danny, he never remembered Danny being this tall. It was as if Danny had grown another 4 inches since he had last seen him.
Danny stopped. "Jack, please I have to go. It's for your own safety," Danny said as he almost pleaded with him.
Jack stepped aside as he saw the desperation in his agent's… sorry his former agent's eyes. The same questions came back… who or what was Danny running from? Who or what was Danny protecting them from? And what had happened to this poor young man in the last ten months to make him look so lost? "What am I going to tell them, Danny?"
Danny stopped in his tracks and felt a lump grow in his throat, `them', the people he had left behind. The people he loved. The people he wanted to go to on his hands and knees and beg for forgiveness. "Jack you have to forget about this. You can't tell them anything. I'm dead to them and to you and it has to remain that way. You have to forget you ever saw me," Danny said as he blinked back tears. This was undoubtedly the hardest thing he had ever had to do. With that, he turned and started to walk away.
"Danny", Jack called out. "Danny, what do you mean, `forget I ever saw you'? You're not dead. I can't pretend that you are dead. Danny, talk to me," he said as he continued he call after the retreating figure. He started to chase after Danny out into the pouring rain. "Danny." He said again as he grabbed Danny's arm and spun him around. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Danny hardly felt the rain as it began to soak into his light jacket. He felt someone grab his arm and reached for his knife on instinct – then he remembered it was Jack. He looked at Jack's confusion-filled eyes and tried to concentrate on the possible threats that surrounded them, but it was near impossible. "I'm sorry, but it has to be this way. I…I can't explain." He turned to walk away again.
Jack looked at Danny's retreating form again and knew he had to try another tactic. He didn't wanted to use this method, but he had no other choice since pleading was making Danny stay. He didn't want to yell and degrade Danny but he had to. He wanted Danny to talk to him, yell at him, punch him, or get any kind of response out of the despondent young man so Jack lashed out.
"You know that file I read from that group home was right about you. You never follow through on anything. You always run away. No one can depend on you. I don't know why I was ever so stupid to give you a chance on my team, Danny."
Danny heard Jack taunting him above the sound of storm. He wanted to turn back and tell Jack he was wrong, that he would go to ends of the earth for his country, for the team, for Jack. That he was willing to die for his country and that he was willing to take a bullet for any one of them. But he had to keep walking; he couldn't endanger Jack or anyone else for another second. As he walked he continued to scan for possible threats remembering Clark's threat about having snipers at the ready to take out the people he loved, then that's when he saw it. On a rooftop to the left of him, he saw a sniper, just like Clark said, aimed at them; he turned and yelled a warning at Jack. But Jack just stood there…not moving. He yelled at Jack again and got no reaction. He knew he had only had one option; he ran towards Jack at full speed and dove hoping he wasn't too late.
Jack watched as Danny turned and yelled at him, he couldn't hear what he was saying above the storm, but was glad for some kind of reaction. He watched as though it was in slow motion as Danny ran to him, and threw himself at him. It was then he heard the crack of gunfire, as he hit the ground hard. He heard another crack before he heard four shots in close succession. The next thing he knew he was being dragged, then everything went deadly quiet apart from what he believed was his own ragged breaths.
Danny felt a burning sensation as the bullet torn into his shoulder. He rolled placing his body between Jack's and any other possible bullets. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder and his chest, he drew his gun and fired four shots, instinctively knowing that they had hit their mark. Grabbing Jack, he pulled him behind a wall and hopefully to safety. After the adrenaline of the moment subsided, he felt the gunshot wound begin to take affect. He knew Jack wasn't hit. He saw where the second bullet had gone and the first was still in him. He continued to scan the buildings as he tried ignore the pain, but with increasing difficultly, as he found it harder to breathe. But he had stay conscious so he could protect Jack from any other possible threats. It was then he heard the sirens… backup. He had done his job, he could let go now, he thought as he slid down the wall.
Jack shivered slightly as he felt the combination of the cold and shock sink in. He heard the sirens and breathed a sigh of relief. The gunfire seemed to have ceased, and he took this time to try and grasp the events that just took place. He remembered that he was not alone and glanced to the left of him, just in time to catch Danny before he fell. As Danny's head lay on his lap, he somehow pulled himself together enough to check if Danny was hurt. He patted his hands over Danny's unresponsive body until his hands came across something that was wet, warm and sticky. He pulled back his hand and stared at in shock as he saw blood staining it. It was then, he fully understood what happened, Danny had been shot- no, and Danny had taken a bullet for him. Danny was dying because of him. Danny may die thinking all of that crap he had just said was true. Danny had saved his life and back up wasn't coming fast enough.
He gently tapped Danny's face leaving blood streaks as he did. "Danny, Danny, come on. Open your eyes. Please Danny," he said as rain or, was it tears, ran down his face. "Danny all that stuff I just said to you was crap - you know that, don't you? You will… you have accomplished many great things, and there is not a day goes by when I have regretted recruiting you to my team. Please Danny, you have to be okay," Jack said as he struggled to keep it together as he held Danny's dying body in his arms. He watched as Danny's blood… Danny's life began to wash away with the rain.
Chapter 10
As the rain continued to pour down around them, Jack fought to save Danny's life. But without much success—as Danny's blood continued to pump out of his body with each beat of his heart. It shouldn't be Danny lying here dying, Jack thought, it should be him. The bullet was meant for him not Danny, but Danny changed all of that. Jack looked down at the blood that had began to seep through his fingers, the blood that stained his suit, the blood that stained Danny's jacket, the blood that was being washed away with the rain… Danny's blood… Danny's life.
Jack looked around. Why was the ambulance taking so long, he asked himself? Judging by the amount of blood Danny had lost and was still losing, he didn't have much time left. He looked at Danny's pale almost lifeless face, and pushed a few wayward strands off his forehead.
"Hang on a bit long Danny, helps nearly here. We'll have you patched up and back on the team in no time."
Jack glanced over and noticed that Danny still held his gun. He went to remove it gently from Danny's hand. But found as soon as he did that Danny tightened his grip and placed his finger on the trigger. Just what the hell Danny had been through in the last ten months, that even though he was on death's door, he was still on edge… he still thought he had to defend himself.
"Danny, it's okay. It's Jack. Jack Malone, your boss," he said soothingly. He doubted Danny would have strength to pull the trigger. But a few moments ago, he didn't think he would have been met with the resistance he had just experienced, when he had tried to take the gun from Danny. He felt Danny's grip over the gun relax, so he gently took it and slid it into his waistband.
Danny felt someone try and take his gun. He tightened his grip and slid his finger onto the trigger. He wasn't worried about himself… he knew he didn't have much longer. But he had to protect Jack… he had to protect him for as long as he could. He had to tell Jack to do the job he had failed. He had to tell Jack to protect them. He heard Jack's soothing voice and shuddered… it was the second time in less than half an hour that he had tried to kill him. But this could not prevent himself from doing his job, Danny thought as he relaxed his grip on his gun. He had to protect them for as long as possible. He slowly opened his eyes to be met with a very blurrily Jack. He tried not to pass out again as pain overwhelmed his body.
"P-Protect t-them," he managed to cough out.
Jack jumped slightly as he noticed Danny's unfocused eyes were looking at him. He just managed make out the words Danny coughing out along with a small amount of blood. He wasn't trying to protect himself, he was thinking about them, Jack thought. That defensive grip around the gun wasn't to protect himself, but to protect me, Jack thought. He squeezed Danny's hand gently and continued to talk in a soothing voice.
"Of course I will protect them, Danny," he paused, "its okay, Danny. You can relax now. I've got your back. You're not alone anymore."
Jack watched in stunned horror as Danny coughed up more blood before closing his eyes and falling unconscious again. "Damn-it Danny," Jack said softly as he blinked back tears. "You can't do this to me again. The team can't go thought this again. We can't lose you again!" Jack moved a shaking hand towards Danny's neck to check for a pulse. He found one but it was weak and was getting weaker by the second. At least if Danny died, he knew he wasn't alone anymore, Jack thought as he tried to draw comfort from this miserable situation.
He was in such a state of shock that he hadn't realised that the ambulance and police cars had arrived. He didn't notice the medics calling him, until one of them was gently shaking his shoulder.
"Sir we need to look at him." Jack just stared at the medic. "Sir how long has he been unconscious."
Jack continued to stare at the medic as he tried to pull himself together. "U-mmm," Jack stuttered as he stared at the other medic who was putting an IV line into Danny's hand. He returned his focus back to the question. "He was unconscious pretty much straight after he was shot. But he briefly came around a few minutes ago for a couple of seconds, but he was coughing up blood," Jack said and for the first time he noticed he was shaking. He took a couple of deep breaths, as he tried to remember Danny's information, so it might help them save Danny's life. "H-his name is Danny Taylor, h-he has no allergies and his blood type is B-."
"Thank you, sir. That will help," the medic said as he looked at the older man who was obviously in some form of shock. "I need to look at the wound."
Jack reluctantly removed his hand from the wound he had so desperately tried to stop Danny's life from flowing out of. He stared in shock as the medics attached various monitors and moved Danny's limp form onto the waiting gurney. He slowly stood up using the wall for support, and looked around. He looked down at a backpack… Danny's backpack. He slowly bent down and picked it up. He didn't want some forensic unit going through it and possibly dishonouring Danny's name. He glanced up as he heard someone calling him.
"Sir, are you riding with us?" the medic asked.
Jack stared blankly for a couple of seconds before replying. "Yes!" He replied as he swung Danny's backpack over his shoulder and jogged towards the ambulance. He had told Danny he was watching his back. He had told Danny that he wasn't alone and he wasn't about to abandon his agent now. Jack felt there was a real possibility that Danny could die on the way to the hospital and he wasn't going to let that happen… but he had no control over that. But he wasn't going to let his agent die alone… he did have control over that, and in his present state he doubted he could drive anyway.
He jumped into the back of the ambulance and tried to stay out of the medic's way. He reached across and held Danny's hand wincing how cold it felt. "Danny, hang in there okay. Please Danny," Jack said as he blinked back tears. Danny had to make it. It would destroy them if he didn't.
The ride to the hospital was unbearably tense, with Danny's condition continuing to deteriorate with each passing second. Once they arrived at the hospital, Jack stood as though he was in a trance as they rushed Danny in. He some how made it into the hospital where he slumped against a wall, not bothering to find a chair in the crowded waiting area, which he was oblivious to. He let his head fall into his hands as he tried to comprehend what had just happened in the last hour – which felt like days.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Martin somehow managed to put the phone down conscious of Viv and Sam staring at him, unable to speak he stared at the photo of his father. He couldn't believe what had just happened, or what the caller wanted him to do. He jumped slightly as he felt hand on his shoulder.
"Martin, are you alright?" Viv asked eyeing him in concern.
Still numb with shock Martin managed to reply. "Someone tried to kill my father."
"Is he ok?" Sam asked as she sat in his desk facing him.
"Y-yes," Martin stammered. "I-I just don't know what to do."
"Martin don't worry, they'll catch the person who did this and make them pay," Viv reassured.
"I know," Martin replied, "But he wants me to fly down to New Mexico. He says it is my duty as his son," Martin finished sarcastically.
Sam still eyed Martin with concern especially after the last ten months. She didn't know how much more Martin could take. She rested her hand on his shoulder. "Martin whatever you decide, we will support you," Sam said as she looked up at Viv seeing her nod at her last comment.
"My dad's been shot at, but he's ok. I-I just… I-I just don't know what to do." Martin paused, "I mean… I-I guess, I-I guess." Martin stammered, but the arrival of their fellow agent Rick Freedman, bursting in cut off Martin's last comment and thoughts.
"Have you heard from Jack recently?" Rick asked, as his glaze travelled over the remaining members of the team. He hoped that he hadn't delivered what could be the beginning of more bad news for a group of people that has been through hell in the last ten months. His glaze fixed on Martin had lived in hell for the last ten months, at this present moment looked confused and scared.
"Why?" Sam asked, her hand not leaving Martin's shoulder but her eyes were now resting on the tall muscular figure of agent Rick Freedman.
"I got reports of shots fired, and an agent down." Rick replied, pausing before he continued. "It was in the area that Jack was in. He phoned about half an hour before it happened saying he had to tie up a couple of things." He watched sadly as the expressions of horror and fear fill their faces. "U-mm it could be nothing and Jack is probably fine, so u-mm you probably don't need to know this-"
"Rick?" Viv questioned, "What are you talking about?"
Rick forced himself to look at them, he owed them had much, especially with the news he was about to tell them. "There was an ambulance, and-and, well the guy they loaded into it looked really bad, apparently. I'm sorry I don't have more. I'm sorry I don't have a fucking description. I-I just though you guys needed to know. Jack is probably fine, but after, well after, what happened I thought you guys would want to know, even if Jack is fine… even if it turns out to be nothing to do with you."
Viv placed a reassuring hand in Rick's broad muscular shoulders. "Thank you," she said calmly even though she felt anything but calm. Losing one of her boys and Jack in the same year, she just wouldn't know how to cope. She didn't know how any of them would, especially Martin, she glanced to her left to see both Sam and Martin frantically trying Jack's various telephone numbers.
"His cell is switched off and he's not answering his home phone!" Sam exclaimed.
The ringing phone on the centre table pulled of their attention towards it. Viv looked at the unmoving figures and slowly picked up the phone, her hands trembling as she did. "Agent Johnson," Viv answered amazed how calm she sounded, unlike the voice on the other end of the phone.
"Viv, its Jack" he said, as he leant heavily against the wall. "U-mm Viv," he stammered.
"Jack are you okay?" Viv asked quickly, the small statement drawing the people around her closer.
"U-mm well, u-mm yeah I-I'm fine," Jack said, "I-I u-mm, I-I just- "
"Jack are you sure you're alright. You aren't making any sense," Viv asked gently. She watched Martin and Sam look at each other in concern, before they returned their glaze back to her.
"I-I'm fine. I-I just think you should get d-down here." Jack managed to say. He couldn't tell them over the phone that the person they had been mourning for ten months was alive – he hoped. He closed his eyes as he remembered the conversation he had moments earlier.
Flashback
"Are you here for Agent Taylor?"
Jack looked up to see a woman in her early forties. He tried to avoid looking at the blood stains on her scrubs. "Yes" Jack replied as he managed to stand. He pulled out his ID. "My name is agent Jack Malone; I am agent Taylor's boss." Jack finished hoping this would let him get information on Danny's condition hoped that it would let him see Danny.
The doctor looked the man who identified himself as agent Jack Malone up and down. She doubted her information would be much comfort to him, but after hours of waiting it was at least information. "We managed to control the bleeding and get him into surgery. The bullet had done a fair amount of damage." She paused as she watched her information sink into the FBI agent in front of her. "The bullet lacerated an artery and punctured a lung. But he was lucky."
"Lucky?" Jack exclaimed as he sank into a chair. "Lucky? How can he be lucky? It took hours to get him stable enough for surgery and then you tell me he damage the bullet has done. And you call him lucky?"
"Yes I do call him lucky. For one he's still alive and secondly that bullet missed his heart by half an inch."
Jack felt as though the air had been sucked from his lungs, as he processed the last piece of information. "Chances…how long?" Jack asked barely realising that he made no sense.
The doctor tried to smile reassuring at him. "The surgery will take around ten hours." She said pausing knowing her words were not comforting. "But his chances are better than most in his condition; he's young, healthy and incredibly fit."
"Thank you," Jack managed to reply as held his head in his hands. "W- when did the surgery start?"
"It should have just started."
Jack looked down at his watch and set the count-down timer for ten hours, mesmerised by the digital numbers as they unbearably slowly started to count down.
End flashback "Viv just get down here, it's r-really important," Jack said as once again he closed his eyes as he tried to think of how he was going to break this information to the team.
"Of course we will Jack; we will be there as soon as we can," Viv said as she looked up and noticed that Martin and Sam already had their coats on and the car keys ready. She ended the call and quickly followed Martin and Sam down to the car park. Where Martin jumped into the driver's seat and gunned the engine to life. Martin quickly pulled the car out of the garage and expertly moved it through the heavy New York traffic. Viv hesitantly asked. "Martin what about your father?"
"He can wait." Martin growled. "Jack needs us right now, so I will just have to fail in my offspring duties."
Jack and the team had stood by him through thick and thin. While as soon as the going got tough his father had abandoned him. Maybe this was the reason he felt he should fulfil Jack's request not his father's.
Martin saw a gap near grid-locked traffic and accelerated hard into it. He waited for Sam and Viv's comments about his driving but heard none. It just highlighted how serious the situation was. Since the events of ten months ago, they had become much closer as a team. Martin didn't think anyone truly understood the affect of Danny's death had on the team. But how he thought he could explain it, was as though part of them died that day. Part of them died with Danny and that part of them would never return. And now someone had tried to kill another person on the team… Martin couldn't bear to think about it. He didn't know what to do apart from drive as fast as he could to the hospital. He wanted to beat the crap out of whoever shot at his father and possibly kill them. But whoever took a shot a Jack would die.
Martin glanced to his left and realised he was just about to miss the turning for the hospital. He wrenched the steering to the left, ignoring the blaring of horns as he skidded into the hospital car park. He hit the brakes and shut down the engine. Taking a few moments to prepare himself…to prepare himself for the horrors that lay within that grey building in front of them. He knew Jack was alright but Jack had been barely coherent. They just couldn't lose another team member… another part of them. He glanced around the car to see the remaining members of the team were doing the same thing. You could have cut the tension in the car with a knife. No one wanting to know what had made their normally ice calm boss incoherent.
Viv broke the tense silence. "Shall we go in?" The only time she could remember Jack being near incoherent was when he'd told her about the boys… when he had told her about Danny. She just didn't want to imagine what event had made her boss and friend incoherent… but she couldn't stop imagining that event. Danny's death had cast long shadows over them, shadows which would never leave. She doubted she would ever able to read about a Mets game without thinking about his smiling face. At least now she could read these articles without being reduced to tears.
As they stepped out of the car, the ice cold March air pulled them all out of their thoughts. They pulled their coats tight around themselves and hurried into the hospital and to the horrors that may lie within.
Sam scanned the hospital for Jack. Her eyes rested on the crumpled form of her boss and former lover. He looked so unlike his usual strong stature that she had to do a double take. Once she was sure it was him, she rushed up to him calling his name. Her face etched with concern when he didn't respond. She nearly collapsed when she saw the state of him… when she saw the blood staining his crumpled suit. She took a couple of deep breaths and continued to approach him, fearful of what her discovery might bring. She bent down so her eyes were level with his glazed ones. She reached her hand out and laid it on his face, flinching when it came in contact with his cool, clammy skin. "Jack." She called waiting anxiously for a response. She watched as he stared at her blankly before he blinked his eyes a couple of times, as if he was completely unaware of what was going on around him. "Jack, are you alright?" she asked softly.
Jack blinked a couple of times as he tried to clear his vision. He looked at the concerned faces around tried to put a coherent sentence together. He was their boss for god stake and he has them concerned. In his present state, he wasn't fulfilling Danny's request, maybe even Danny's dying wish. He had to pull himself together even if it was just to protect them. Just what had Danny been doing… been forced to do in the last ten months. He was going to find out… he needed to find out, and he would protect Danny.
He stared blankly at the face in front of him and tried to think of her familiar name as she spoke softly to him. "Sam?" He tried.
"Yes, it's Sam," she replied her face creasing in farther concern, as Jack barely recognised her. "Are you alright?"
""U-mm, yeah I'm fine." Jack replied as he struggled to stand. He stumbled slightly and three pairs of hands reached out to catch him. Steadying himself he brushed them off. "I'm fine," he repeated as some of the authority returned to his voice.
They backed off a little but their eyes never leaving their dishevelled boss and the blood staining him. Viv stepped forward and gently laid her hand on Jack's shoulder. "Jack are you sure are ok? Have you had yourself checked out?" She paused and looked at the blood stains. "Whose blood is it?"
Jack looked down at his suit, at his hands. He looked down at the blood… Danny's blood. It slowly dawned on him what a state he must looked. "It's-it's not mine. B-but it is the reason I called you down here."
"Jack?"
Jack looked at Martin who hadn't said a word since they got here, but that wasn't unusual now. "I think we should discuss this somewhere more private." He turned and walked down the seemingly endless mass of corridors to a room, vaguely aware of the team following him. Once in the room, he closed the door behind them and prepared himself to break this confusing and troubling news. He stood looking around the room for awhile as he tried to come up with the words.
"Jack? The blood?" Viv gently prompted.
"Its-its…," Jack stammered. "Its-its. The blood-. Its Danny's."
The room went deadly silent; a pin could have been heard if it dropped, as everyone slowly digested the news. They were too shocked to comment… to shocked to question what Jack had just told them.
Finally Martin broke the silence. "Jack, Danny died ten months ago. I witnessed him being executed in front of me," Martin exclaimed. "Are you telling me that I can't tell the different between a dead person and someone that is alive?" Martin said as he turned to storm out. Had they really thought that he had completely lost it or maybe Jack had lost it? Danny was dead – he hadn't felt a pulse ten months ago. And now Jack was telling them that the blood that stained his suit was Danny's. He went to open the door and get out of this small confined space, but something was stopping him. He turned to move whatever was preventing from leaving the room to be faced with a calm looking Jack Malone. "Jack, face it! Danny is dead. He's not alive, he's dead. So just leave me alone. Stop screwing around with us."
Jack grabbed Martin the arm and slammed him against the wall. "Danny is alive," Jack yelled gesturing to his suit, he continued. "Do you want DNA proof, because if you want it, I will get it? It will prove that special agent Danny Taylor is alive."
Martin shoved Jack back. "Jack leave me alone. Danny hasn't risen from the dead. Its time we faced facts and moved on. I have!" Martin lied as he stormed out slamming the door behind him.
The room was once again deadly silence, as they reacted to Jack's news and Martin's outburst. Sam moved towards the door, but found a hand on her shoulder stopping her.
"Sam leave him. He just needs time, to sort things through."
"Jack I don't understand. If what you say is true and Danny is alive, what the hell happened ten months ago? If Danny's alive why didn't Martin say something? Why did he let us believe he was dead? And – and why are covered in his blood?" Sam said as she found herself slightly panicking. But she didn't understand why she was panicking – her best friend was alive. She just didn't understand why he had lied to them… why Martin had lied to them? She felt comforting arms guiding her to a chair. She wanted to wake up from this nightmare, but now she had… she wanted answers.
"I can't answer your questions. I don't know what happened ten months ago. I do believe what happened was staged in some way so that we all believed Danny was dead. I believe that Danny was given something so Martin couldn't find a pulse. But I also believe Danny didn't have a choice, that he couldn't contact us," Jack paused and took a deep breath. "The reason – the reason I am covered in Danny's blood is – is, well Danny saved my life."
Viv suddenly spoke up firing questions. "What happened? Is he ok? Can we see him?"
"He took a bullet for me," Jack said feeling his chest swell with pride as he talked about Danny's actions, but at the same time he felt his shoulders tense with guilt. "He's- he's in surgery as we speak." He held his head in his hands. He had told them Danny was alive, but he didn't know how… if he could break it to them about how serious condition Danny was in. That they may lose Danny all over again.
"Jack when can we see him? How serious is it? Is he going to be ok?" Viv said continuing to fire off rapid questions as her concern grew for Danny.
"It's serious," Jack winced as he looked at Sam and Viv's concerned expressions. "The bullet hit an artery and punched a lung. He will be in surgery for about-"Jack paused and looked at the digital numbers counting themselves down. "For another eight hours and forty- six minutes."
"Oh god, my poor baby!" Viv said as she collapsed into a chair, trying to blink back the tears that stung her eyes. "Do you know what his chances of pulling through are?"
"I don't know, I really don't. They fed me the usual crap; he's young, fit and healthy." Jack glanced around the room finally he just looked at his feet. "I wish I could give you better news, I wish-"
"Jack, Danny will pull through – he's strong. And what are you talking about – Danny's alive- that's the best news I have heard in ten months." Sam said slightly smiling. This was Danny – he wouldn't let a small thing like a bullet kill him. This was their Danny, he would be fine. He had to be fine.
"Just what has the poor boy been doing? Who's been watching his back?" Viv asked sadly. "We thought the last ten months were hell but at least we had each other. Who did Danny have?"
"I don't know Viv," Jack sighed, as he began to tell them about his meeting with Danny, missing out certain parts. Once he finished, he looked up at Viv and Sam's shocked faces. "This can go no farther than this room. You can tell Martin – but don't tell anyone, don't do any background checks. I don't want to put Danny in any more danger."
Viv and Sam nodded. "Oh Danny what have you gotten yourself into?" Sam said to no one in particular.
"Do you think he was working for one of the `As'" Viv asked referring to the US intelligence agencies. As she imagined Danny in a serious dangerous undercover operation, alone and scared, with no backup, she felt a tear fall.
"I don't know. But I am going to find out and sort it out. Then we can go back to before – with Danny on the team." Jack said as he tried to reassure himself as they waited for the outcome of Danny's surgery.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"What's taking so long? Why haven't they told us anything?" Sam said through frayed nerves as she paced up and down the small room. "And where the hell is Martin? He appeared to be so cut up about Danny's death and he doesn't care if Danny pulls through or not."
"Sam if they knew anything they would of told us." Viv replied gently. "And Martin is having a hard time dealing with this. He just needs sometime alone to think. He was there remember? The poor boy is confused and right now he probably blames himself not only for what for happened to himself and Danny, but what happened to Jack as well."
"I guess. I'm sorry Viv; I'm just so worried about Danny. I just want… I need to see his smiling face again. I need to see him again," Sam said as she continued to pace.
Jack sat at the far corner of the room pinching the bridge of his nose as he felt a headache coming on. He was quite relieved that Sam and Viv had sent him home to take a shower and for a change of clothes. "Sam so do we all." He said as he looked up. "But please can you stop pacing; it's giving me a headache. Danny will be alright – as you said before he's strong. He will be back in the office grinning like a Cheshire cat before you know it," he said not just to reassure Sam but to reassure himself.
The door creaked before it was opened causing them all to spin around and face the door- unconsciously holding their breath… waiting… hoping. A tall in his thirties – who they presumed was a doctor – entered. Sam rushed forward. "How is he?"
The doctor cleared his throat. "You're all here for agent Taylor?"
"Yes, how is he?" Sam asked in patiently.
"Well the surgery was a complete success and I expect him to make a full recovery."
They collectively released the breath that they has realised that they were holding. Jack cautiously stepped forward. "Can we see him?"
"Of course. But only one at a time, to begin with. He will be in and out of it, but that's expected."
"Thank you," Jack said, fighting the urge to hug him.
"I was just doing my job and agent Taylor is a real fighter."
"I know," Jack replied smiling, "but thank you."
The doctor smiled. "A nurse will be around shortly to show to his room."
Jack sank back into the chair and smiled with relief. Danny was going to be alright. There had been several terrible moments when Jack had thought the worse. But thankfully these thoughts had not come true. Danny was still on his team; therefore he was still responsible for him. He needed to find out who Danny was running from, who he was protecting them from. Then he would deal with this person… this organization. Whoever Danny was running and protecting them from was serious. They had tried to murder him and therefore he had legal grounds to follow his case through. But what if Danny was somehow involved? What if Danny was somehow involved in the attempted assassination on the Director of the DEA and the Deputy Director of the FBI – that happened barely twenty-fours before the attempt of his life? Was this purely circumstantial or was there a connection between these two events? Jack sighed. He would have to deal with these questions later; right now his primary concern was Danny's well-being. He ran his hands through his dishevelled hair, which mirrored his body.
When he had spoken to Danny, he glanced at his watch in disbelief – twelve hours ago – it felt longer. Danny looked lost and scared, to point of looking terrified. Surely… hopefully all these events weren't connected – but how could they not be? Just what had Danny got himself involved in? He remembered Danny as a twenty-six year old, young and green, but his eyes told another story. His eyes portrayed someone way beyond his twenty-six years. They showed someone had seen things that someone of twice his years. They showed uneasiness and distrust, despite his confidence façade. They showed suspicion when someone showed concern, Jack figured this was from years of disinterest, years of no one giving a damn. No one bothering to stop and take the time to get to know this young man. But he had, and under his confidence, hothead façade, he had found a sensitive, insecure young man. Who had been forced to grow up to quickly… forced to miss out on childhood mistakes… forced into adult life way to early. He considered himself one of the lucky few that had gotten though the steel exterior that Danny surrounded himself with, to see the true Danny Taylor. He had seen that fear and the insecurities in his eyes yesterday; to the point he thought he was looking into the eyes of a terrified child not his agent. This was the reason he was going to sort this mess out. No one had given a damn about Danny Taylor as a kid, but Jack did now.
He knew both Viv and Sam wanted to see Danny, but he needed to talk to him. He needed to find out just want the hell was going on--not just for Danny but for the rest of the team. Danny had been protecting the team. The same people had tried to kill him… just how much danger was the team in? Was his family in danger? There were so many questions he needed to ask Danny and so many that would go unanswered. He just needed the basic questions answered. Readers Digest bullet point answers… who… why… what. Then he would go and sort it out. He would get Danny reinstated in the FBI. More importantly, he would get Danny reinstated as Danny Taylor, who was alive and had not died on that fateful day in May. Then maybe he could relax.
He stood up. "I need to talk to him," Jack said as he glanced at Viv and Sam. "I need to find out just what the hell went on ten months ago. I need answers."
Viv stood up and slightly confronted Jack. "Leave the poor boy alone. He has just been through major surgery. He needs rest; he doesn't need to be interrogated," Viv said as she felt her maternal instincts towards Danny return. "He needs to rest Jack; can't you leave it for a couple of days, at least until some of his strength as returned?"
Jack turned annoyingly at Sam's and Viv's piercing stares. "You know if I had a choice I would wait. But I don't. Someone took a shot at us. I don't know how much danger we are in… how much danger Danny is in," he stared out onto the cold grey New York morning. "I need to sort it out. I need to protect Danny. I need to thank him."
It was sometime before a petite blond nurse came and showed Jack to Danny's room. He turned to mumble a thank you, but she was already gone. He slowly pushed open the door and exhaled sharply when he saw how pale… how young… how fragile Danny looked. He glanced across at the heart monitor and sighed with relief when he saw a strong, steady pattern. He smiled this was Danny did he expect anything less. He sank into the battered chair beside the bed and continued to smile. His agent was battered but alive. His agent would be around to put scumbags in their places again. And he was pretty sure the team now had their own personal sniper. But most importantly his team was complete again.