Thursday, July 30, 2015

"Elusive" - Issue 5


“Elusive”
Issue #5
‘Haunted’
By Charley Biggs



Steamy water sprayed from the showerhead in the pale tan tiled shower, it’s quiet rain a steady static rhythm.  Dimly lit behind, the shower curtain, Jim ‘The Wildman’ Thornton stood under the flow of the water, letting it cascade over him, one hand against the wall, the other over his face as the water came on sheets over his shoulders and down his chest, flowing around the three entry wounds where soft pink flesh was still ever so tender.
            Beneath the hand that covered his face, Jim wasn’t looking at anything…at least not in the present. 
            The afternoon was very bright, but the sun was looming, ready to dip beneath the horizon as the deputies prepped to raid an abandoned apartment building.  Around the corner, the building was not visible, and all of the deputies, the small handful that they were and all seasoned, were standing and checking weapons and making sure they were prepared for what was to come next.
            “Alright bosslady…”, Jim began.
            “Thornton…just…behave”, this from Valentine, who was putting on her vest; of all the people there, only a small few were wearing vests, Thornton, as per his usual, declined.
            Making a hand motion of zipping his lips shut, Thornton let it go and checked the clip in his M9.  Next to him, Gomez was doing the same with her Glock 17.  There was nothing to say really, other than to grin at her partner’s typical antics, and he always seemed to know just how to settle the nerves before something intense went down.
            “Folks, listen up”, Valentine said quietly, “We all know the situation…they have lookouts, they may know we are coming.  Expect a rough ride.  We have two people we are trying to get…”, as she went on, Jim shared a look with Gomez, making a funny face at her before he unzipped his windbreaker.  He and Gomez were used to living in jeans and polo shirts or button downs, and Valentine must have had meetings all day, because she was wearing her office clothes still, a nice powdery white blouse and black suit, which looked oddly normal with the 12 gauge pistol grip shotgun she was holding.
            In minutes, everyone was in position, and the silent signal was given to move in, Gomez and Thornton were among the first to enter the building after another deputy kicked the door in, smoothly standing off to the side as Gomez stepped in, sweeping corner to corner as she took point.
            Inside, the building was dirty, and the first floor had been trashed, probably like this for years since being condemned.  Trash on the floor made for noisy steps that even sneakers couldn’t hide, and the walls were dingy with paint peeling, and many of the doors had long since been smashed in, or had been covered intentionally by the previous owners before being abandoned.  Eerily, besides their own movements, there was no sound, and it made the hair on Jim’s neck stand up, it was like nothing he’d ever seen outside of urban combat overseas…and even then.
            Gomez cleared the first floor, and Jim was right behind her, but they had suspected the kids might bolt beforehand, so they held their ground for the time being as other teams entered simultaneously.  Down the hall, Valentine entered with her team, and gave a signal to hit the steps and start searching upper floors to see what they found.  As Gomez took the lead, Jim strayed behind her by a few yards…something was off and he could feel it but couldn’t put a finger on it.
            His eyes kept getting drawn to the unnaturally textured wall on their right, and that’s when all hell broke loose.  Like something out of a bad movie, dust filled the air and lights flashed like strobes, and the sound of 9mm gunfire filled the air.  At first, Jim chided himself for not realizing what was happening, and then one thought went through his head immediately after as it hit him that they were being shot at, MARIA!  He went to pull his M9 up, but he didn’t see his firearm at all.  He heard another 9mm fill the air, and saw the flashes, but it didn’t look right, it was somehow in the wrong place.
            As dust began to clear, Jim began to realize that he was looking at ceiling tiles…he was on the floor.  Did he trip and fall?  Trying to lift his head, he could barely move, and pain began ripping through his chest like fire, his breathing felt like he was choking on an endless rush of water.  Coughing, his head hit the deck under him hard.  Yelling came more into focus, and he looked up to see Maria on her knees kneeling over him, as she pressed on his chest, and in his peripheral, he could see Valentine to his left side yelling into a radio, but everything was getting too hard to hear, too distant to follow.  He went to grab Valentine and push her back out there, tried to tell her he was fine and needed a minute, but his hand, now covered in blood just traced down her blouse until she caught it, giving it a squeeze, and yelling at him to hang in there.
            As his vision started to go out, and he could feel reality slipping away, the last thing he heard clearly was the frantic sound of Maria screaming at him.
            “JIM!  DON’T YOU LEAVE ME GODDAMNIT! JIM!”
            Gasping for air, and hanging onto the tile wall, Jim spit out a mouthful of water where he’d been breathing in shower spray…resting his head against the cool tiles once more, shaking, he closed his eyes, muttering as he caught his breath…
            “I’m fine…I’m fine…it’s okay, Maria….I’m fine…”, and as he stood there, the memory still fresh in his mind, the now cold water helped to wash away the nightmare.

***

            “Jim…Jim!...JIM!”, suddenly he snapped out of it, and looked up, fingering the knot in his tie as he pulled it loose, to see Maria Gomez standing over him.  “Spaceman…you alright?  I wanted to know what you got on our runner in Kentucky…”
            Reaching for his coffee mug, to realize for the sixth time this morning that it was bone dry, he slammed it down sourly, “Well…I think he’s going to run home, to be honest…aren’t the state police in the area?”
            “So far as I can tell, without turning a thing up…”
            Jim shrugged, “I’ll get with Smith and see if we can find anything else, but I’m not having any luck…we’re going to need to take a ride and look”
            “I think then we’ll have to do that…let me see if I can pass the press off to Valentine for a few days”, she said, turning away, looking every bit as harassed as they all felt.
            Jim called to her back hopefully, “Good luck!”, before turning to Smith who was at a nearby table turned makeshift desk.  “Hey man, let’s take a look at our runner in Kentucky again”
            “What about the drug operation in Iowa?”, Smith asked, looking very run down like they all were.  This case load was absolutely insane, and there seemed to be no end to the work they were doing.
            “Screw it…it’s Iowa.  This guy we’re chasing in Kentucky was a mob enforcer, I don’t think we want him gone very long…”
            “That’s another thing, a mob enforcer in Kentucky?”, Smith asked.
            Jim grinned, “Modern world, my man…they have people everywhere these days…though the only reason he is there is because he was transferred in hopes he’d be safer there”, then he stood up, pointing to the coffee area, “Didn’t work…I’ll be right back”
            Smith just nodded, and set aside one mountain of paperwork for another as he went back to the Kentucky case.  It was shaping up to be another long week.

***

            “I need to take my people out on the road…it’s been two weeks, and we can’t make any headway between the press and the sheer workload from these cases.  If we can’t focus on one at a time, we’re going to lose everything”
            Valentine considered this as she looked at Gomez.  Maria was right, of course, but it didn’t change the fact that the cases were all high profile, and that they needed representation at home.  So she did the only thing she figured was best, “I’ll field the press, but try and remember, Elliot goes on trial in another month, so you’ll need to be quick.  All three of you are expected to be ready to go to court.  Take all of your case notes and files with you on the road”
            Gomez nodded, she was relieved, but it was short lived as she realized just what Valentine was doing to them.  They would now be trying to hold up five cases while on the road for one.  Leaning forward, she shook her head, “I don’t understand, why aren’t we spreading these around a little?  This is a lot for one small office, much less a team of three people”
            Waving a hand, Valentine had already turned her attention away and back to her computer, “You can handle it…just take care of business and keep me updated”
            Gomez paused, but Valentine continued to ignore her, and at the silent dismissal she pursed her lips in silent anger, turning on a heel to leave.  They were being played, and she wasn’t sure for what reason, but whatever it was, there was nothing they could do to get out from under it.
            When Gomez was standing out in the hall, she waited with her cup of coffee, leaning against the wall, head back, eyes closed, one heel pressed against the wall behind her.  She didn’t open her eyes when she was joined by another person, she just took a sip of coffee.
            “Alright…so we got sold out.  What now?”, Jim asked.
            Without opening her eyes, Maria shook her head slightly, “Nothing.  We get the job done.  This time, I need to know you can hack it…or I take Smith on the road and leave you here.  This goes south and we all get burned…”, Jim had the most to lose, and they knew it.
            “I could just volunteer to stay…”, he said, leaning against the bannister across from her in the late hours of the evening.  The next shift was already in the field or in their offices, leaving them blessedly alone.
            “I need your experience.  Smith is smart, but intuition and discretion are valuable…”
            “Not deal breakers…not this time.  You’ll need his athleticism…and I can do you more good here”
            Maria’s eyes opened as she looked at her partner now, eyes shadowed and wary, “I don’t like it…”
            Jim caught her eye and shrugged, “We don’t have a lot of options…unless you think you can stay?”
            “It’s a thought”
            “Not a good one, Maria…not a good one”, resting his coffee mug in his palm, he nodded to Smith, “Take him with you…I can cover your ass from here.  This time, it’s a safer bet.  After you nail the man in Kentucky, then we can discuss switching it up”, he pointed out.
            Maria saw the wisdom in what he was saying, and she caught his hesitation to go back into the field.  She knew…they both knew.  Shuddering in frustration and pent up anger, she pushed off the wall, “I’m still pissed that she dropped this on us…I can’t fathom the gain”
            “It must have been for a good reason…Theresa doesn’t just fuck people.  It’s not in her nature, hard ass though she might be…”
            “Boston?”
            “A fluke…I wouldn’t hold that against her”
            “You never seem to”, she said, narrowing her eyes at her partner.  “I just would rather have you at my side, rather than taking chances with Smith…”
            “We both know that if anything went wrong, we’d be screwed and I’d be blamed for incompetence…and you’d get early retirement”
            “Or worse”, she admitted.
            “So let’s not roll the dice in a political setting, shall we?  At least not out there…I can deal with the office politics here”
            “Calling in your favors?”
            “If they are still there to be called in…”, Jim said irritably.
            Maria just shook her head questioningly.
            Jim scratched the back of his head, “A lot of people bailed on me politically when I got shot…I’m a lame duck in their eyes.  There are whispers around the office that-“
            He never got another word in as Maria cut a hand through the air, “You’re not dragging me down with you!  You’re not down…one bad incident doesn’t kill a career”
            “Maybe not ten years ago…or twenty…but now?  We’re out of our prime, our arrest numbers are dropping, our performance isn’t what it used to be on paper”
            Sighing, Maria hung her head, “I was never a fan of politics…”
            “Yet you play them well when you want to…and if you take Theresa’s desk, you’ll have to”, Jim told her, and then he closed the gap between them, “I’ve got your back…give me a few days while you hunt this guy to press Theresa and figure out what’s going on…from there, we might be able to negotiate some leverage”
            “Jim, it sounds like a bad idea…if Valentine wants us on these cases, then we are stuck with them”
            “Right…and if she’s pushing it, there’s someone higher up the chain pressing it.  We need to know what the endgame is supposed to be or we’ll piss this away”
            “This isn’t the military, Jim…you can’t just ask your Commander what they want…”
            Grinning charmingly and running a hand over his short hair comically, Jim replied greasily, “Sure you can, toots, just gotta know how to ask!”
            Unable to keep a straight face at her partner’s antics, Maria shoved him in the shoulder gently and playfully, “Shush!  People can hear you!”
            “Fuck’em!”, he grunted as he straightened his tie and sniffed.
            Eyes widening again she poked him in the same shoulder, “Easy killer…save it for tomorrow”
            “Tomorrow?”
            “I secured the trip arrangements this afternoon.  We sign out a car and leave tomorrow morning.  Smith should be done boxing up our files any minute”
            As if summoned, Smith walked up, bottle of Gatorade in hand, “So…”, he began.
            “You’re packed”, Jim and Maria said in unison, causing Smith to stumble back a step in surprise.
            Jim pointed at him with a mug, then to Maria, “Watch her back out there…she get’s any new holes and I may have to use your balls for target practice!”
            “Wait”, Smith said, raising his hands, “I’m going on the road?”
            Maria grinned, stepping up to Smith to look him in the eye approvingly, “That’s right.  First thing in the morning, have your bag ready…I pull out at six in the a.m.  and you’re with me, or on the curb”, she told him.  Then she glanced at Jim, “See us off?”
            “Wouldn’t have it any other way…”, then checking his watch, he twirled a finger over his shoulder, “Let’s get the hell out of here for tonight…I’ll buy a round.  Might as well get it out of our system before the fun begins”
            Smith darted off to grab his stuff, and Maria glanced at Jim, “It won’t be the same, you know…”
            Jim just stared out of an open window looking very tired, “Did you think it ever would be?”, he asked her.
            “Not really…but one can hope.  This guy in Kentucky could already be out of state by now…”
            Jim shrugged, “Only one way to find out…”, then he looked back over his shoulder at Maria.
            “Yep…going to nail these guys one step at a time…”
            Jim, looking haunted, pulled his tie off slowly, “Just be careful…quick…but careful”, still not looking at her, he rolled the fabric up in a hand.
            Smith was still absent, so Maria laid a hand on his shoulder, “Hey…I’ll be alright, Jim”, she said softly, “Will you?”
            Glassy eyed, Jim forced a smile as he turned back to her, “Aren’t I always?”
            Forcing a smile of her own, Maria was sure he was hiding something, but she let it go, he had had a shadow over him since returning, “Yeah…”
            Smith rejoined them, and they all headed out to their cars to go hit a restaurant and talk one last time together before they would split up to tackle their work.  Maria drove tonight, and as she looked over at Jim on the ride, she could see that even though he was next to her, he was miles away.  In the back of her mind, she screamed questions, wondering what was going inside his mind, and why he couldn’t just tell her so she could help him.  But for Jim…
            His eyes kept getting drawn to the unnaturally textured wall on their right, and that’s when all hell broke loose…
            …he was miles away.

Thursday, July 16, 2015

Elusive - Issue #4


“Elusive”
Issue #4
‘Interstate Killer’ – Part Four
By Charley Biggs


Turning his head, Jim could see Smith looking at him, he gave a quick hand sign, then indicated for the other man to watch and cover him so he could get closer.  Waiting for Smith to get in position, Jim drew his M9, and as soon as the other man was ready, he broke cover and began sprinting for an old barricade that separated flightline from an area for spare fuel tanks and generally junk these days.  Kicking up dust, Jim glanced upwards as he shot across the broken pavement and saw the movement of the glint of sunlight, and then heard the higher pitch report of a 9mm going off, and a cloud of dust well over the head of their shooter, forcing her duck down. Yards from the barricade, Jim dove for cover, just in time to feel chips of cement strike his foot and ankle where he’d jumped from. 
            Safe behind the barricade, he actually stopped to think about the fact that he and Gomez both were dressed for the office and how absurdly old school it was that they were both wearing business suits to arrest a dangerous sniper, and that only Smith, whom was wearing a rugged button down, jeans, and a US Marshals windbreaker was the only one of them that was dressed for the job.  Dusting pieces of rock from his tie, he had to laugh as he tried to shift around for a better view, not finding anything good enough to shoot from, but good enough to gauge Elliot’s position.
            Smith was still hidden behind the hangar, and it was time to get him up closer, and he had a line of barricades as well as old vehicles for cover…Jim would be the first one to cross the flightline, and the only thing nearby was an old RADAR platform.  First things first…they had to get Smith out from his cover.  Seeing the barest hint of a silhouette, Jim could tell she was using her scope to try and get a bead on Smith, waiting on him to look around the wall. 
            Taking advantage of her position, Jim popped up immediately and brought his M9 up to aim for the same area over her head Smith had, squeezing off the first round in a cloud of dust and debris.  The effect was as desired, and Elliot dropped back below the edge.  Watching for several seconds, Jim almost missed the motion of Smith out of the corner of his eye, and Elliot being harder to see, he turned his attention to the tower in time to see only her rifle and head, and he squeezed three rounds in rapid fire for the bottom of the busted out window, sending out splinters and smoke, forcing her to get back down while Smith did a baseball slide for cover behind a large utility truck.
            Now it was Jim’s turn, and purposefully not looking in the direction of Gomez, he waited to see that Smith was still breathing, and noted the man’s movement, he popped up for one more shot to get Elliot’s head down, leaving him four rounds left, and as he belatedly patted his pocket…that was it save for his revolver!  Now?!  Now he realizes he never grabbed the two extra clips?!  Oh well…too late to be pissed off about it. 
            As soon as Elliot dropped, trusting Smith to cover him, M9 still in hand, Jim started sprinting the width of the runway, which was starting to feel a lot more than it was as he was just approaching it.  Still fresh off convalescent, his body still wasn’t in prime shape, and the excitement was taking it’s toll.  The delay seemed odd, Smith should be squeezing off another round.  Jim’s legs were starting to get heavy, his feet felt swollen, and he felt winded…all way too fast, he was getting slower with each step, little above a jog, and a steadily easier target.
            Chancing a glance up at the tower, he realized, heart leaping to his throat, that Elliot was on her feet and following him, so he raised the M9 singlehanded and squeezed off a round over her head making her duck, but not drop, so this time, he hit the sill just to her right, making her dodge.  The strain of turning and firing while running tweaked his left knee hard, but he kept moving through the blindingly sharp pain, it was too late to stop.
            Elliot popped up confidently again, and the ground a foot behind him exploded as her round hit nearby.  As slow as he was going, Jim realized she might have miscalculated at her angle…or he was being toyed with, and raising his gun, he squeezed a round to her right again, forcing her back, sure that this time the debris struck her in the face.  Almost across the runway, Jim was trying to watch two different directions at once, and still thirty yards or better from cover, the ground exploded a few feet ahead of him. 
Skidding and falling on his back, Jim backpedalled to his feet quickly, and raised the M9 for another shot, and it took a second or two as he danced around to see where Elliot had gone, a small panel with a hole in it, and he aimed for nearby support, sending sparks up.  In his hand, the slide was locked, and he pulled it back to aid it’s release…he was out.  Holstering the M9 as he ran full speed for cover, he reached to draw the revolver under his coat, but before he could, Smith, whom must have been trying for a better position popped up and sent up sparks over Elliot’s head before she could get another shot off at Jim. 
            Diving for cover at the edge of the pad where a RADAR used to be, Jim realized that this was a squeeze…not lengthwise, but height, it was little more than 16” tall, and barely kept him out line of fire…if it did.  Also, there was a maintenance trench nearby, he only noticed because when he hit the dirt, one of his two speed loaders rolled out of his pocket and into the trench out of reach, and the trench was in full view for Elliot.  Barely saving the other speed loader, he lie completely flat on the ground, butted against the cold cement as close as he could, and he could tell Smith had hunkered down again, because after a few shots hitting metal across the flightline, he felt more than heard the sudden burst of air and cement chunks as a round struck way too close to his head for comfort, and the loud sound of the bullet striking cement rattled his ears. 
Waiting for a while, he realized Smith wasn’t coming up, and with his speed loader in hand, revolver in the other, Jim popped up and squeezed a round off at the sill where Elliot had her rifle stock resting, causing her to jump back, but only momentarily, and as the Deputy tried to get up and make a run for it, Elliot made an awkward shot in his direction, hitting the cement near his shin, causing him to jump back, teetering at the edge of the trench.
            Smith popped up in the nick of time and emptied his clip into the lower wall of the tower near Elliot, sending the already reloading sniper ducking for cover.  Jim flailed as he nearly fell, somehow throwing his weight forward and landing on the cement pad face first, cutting his forehead open and jarring him pretty badly before he rolled back to the ground behind it.  Smith ducked again as sparks flew over his head, he was in a good place to move around the edges, but he wouldn’t be able to get around to the tower without cover…and Jim had done a lot of shooting, he wasn’t sure he could rely on it.  So he had to help Thornton, but the man was pinned down.
            Not a radio between the three Deputies, and neither of the men in line of sight, Gomez was watching the entire ordeal from her vantage point behind the low wall of the roof through a gutter opening.  Nearby an old A/C unit provided ample cover for her as she needed to start working on spotting Elliot.  With all of the cover fire the men were providing, it was hard work nailing the woman’s exact location and distance, but it made it easier as she used a field glass to get her bearings.  The trouble, however, began when she realized that the men were pinned down.
            Rifle now in hand and out of sight behind the A/C unit, Gomez used the field glass to survey the scene.  Smith was down behind a barricade about fifty yards from the base of the tower.  Jim was considerably closer, only twenty yards, but his cover was bad, he was bleeding, and through the field glass, she could tell he was tired already.  Jim was spent, and though he was holding the revolver, he was slow to fire.
            Looking again to Elliot as she fired off another round at Jim, and then back to Jim, Gomez was trying to puzzle out why exactly Jim wasn’t firing back.  Suddenly her throat tightened and she felt her heart skip a beat!  A glint of metal in the trench, the speed loader, and the other one was not in his hand, he’d holstered the M9, indicating he was out, and with only about three round left, he was too short to take his chances.  In short, Jim was a sitting duck, and she could see the bullets ripping up the cement, his cover was getting smaller as he lay there, covered in sweat, blood and dirt, and he couldn’t go anywhere!
            Jaw tightening, and taking a look at Smith, where he had good cover, but also dwindling shells, Maria’s lips pursed tightly.  Face smoothing in determination, her hand slid to the bolt sliding it back smoothly before reaching for one of the rounds in her pocket.  Sliding it into the chamber, the slid the bolt home, the butt of the rifle coming to her shoulder in a smooth motion.
            Taught to shoot from a younger age, unlike her male counterparts, Maria still went to visit her father regularly and sight her rifle and adjust her scope.  She was easily only about seven hundred yards from her target…not an easy shot, granted, but it could be worse.  Used to long range shots after literal decades of practice, however, and with almost no wind, as she closed one eye to sight through her scope, the adjustments she made in her head to the angle of the shot were nearly subconscious.  The men were pinned down, if she didn’t take the shot, one of them would get killed. 
            Jim lying there in a pool of his own blood, choking and losing consciousness flashed through her mind as it did in her nightmares, the thought of seeing her partner almost die again unbearable.  Then…calm.  Dead calm, nothing as she sighted Elliot’s silhouette.  Timing her heartbeats, slowing her breaths, Maria’s eye slid over the form for what she wanted, that tiny pinpoint target, the right shoulder, the one facing her.  Not a killshot, no matter how easy, they needed Elliot alive.
            Breathe out.  Breathe in. Beat beat.  Breathe out. Beat beat. Breathe in. The breeze ruffled her hair and died again. Breathe out. Beat beat.  The report of the rifle in her hand shattered the quiet of the flightline. After the recoil died, still looking through the scope, the silhouette of Elliot was against the wall, her weapon no longer visible.
            Lowering the rifle in her strong hand, Maria’s right hand flashed as she straightened from her vantage point, signaling Jim and Smith to make a run for the tower.  Smith, moving like the athlete he was, sprinted quickly for the tower and was at the base in seconds flat.  Jim was still lying on the ground for those seconds before painfully peeling himself from the ground.
            Maria felt a lump in her throat…was she too late, or was he just tired?  After a few seconds more, wiping blood out of his eyes, he was moving steadily, and disappeared into the tower behind Smith.  Sighing in relief that the guys were okay, she slid the bolt back, ejecting the shell casing, and slid another round into the chamber, but she didn’t slide it home, instead, she lifted the field glass and wathed for Elliot to move.
            Nothing. In less than ten seconds from the time of the shot, Elliot was disarmed, and Maria was being given the sign to stand down and call an ambulance to take her.  Waving back, she let field glass drop in her hand.  They did it.

***

            In the wake of the chaos, EMTs were treating Elliot on scene, and Smith was giving Jim some first aid on his forehead, the Deputy having refused the EMTs.  Maria, meanwhile, was dealing with orders to get Elliot to the proper facility, and arranging guard for her.  When Elliot was loaded into the ambulance, Smith went with her as escort, looking more the part than Jim or Maria, and also being the junior guy, he drew the short straw this time.
            As everyone began leaving save for crime scene and a few other deputies rushed out to secure the area, Jim and Maria were largely alone with the SUV, sitting with the rear hatch open.  As they sat there watching the Ambulance pull away, Maria turned to look at Jim, sliding out to her feet, motioning for Jim to do the same and close it.  It was time to leave…almost.
            Just as Jim had closed the door, he was about to walk to the passenger seat when suddenly he was seeing stars for the second time today.  Maria was standing, hand still cocked, right square in front of him, having full arm slapped him.  It took half a minute, but Jim straightened, rubbing his face.
            “Alright…what did I do this time?  I came back didn’t I?”
            “That wasn’t for this…even if it was a complete clusterfuck!”, Maria snapped.  “It’s for keeping shit from me…making Valentine have to tell me”
            “Keeping what from you?”, Jim asked.  Immediately he wished he hadn’t, earning another slap in the same place that made him stagger a step or two before he straightened.
            “You had a breakdown?!”, she yelled at him, “Not only that, but you couldn’t tell me?  Instead you pushed me away!  I’m supposed to be your partner”
            “You are”, he said rubbing his jaw.
            “Then why can’t you be honest with me?  This is your life, Jim!  You could have been killed today…and could get killed at any point…”
            Holding up a finger, he shot back irritably, “But I didn’t!”
            “No…you didn’t…but you lost more than half of your ammunition without firing most of it…”
            “This was chaos”, he began, but Maria cut him off.
            “Don’t bullshit me, Jim.  You wouldn’t have made those mistakes six months ago…and I saw you drop your bullets in the parking garage…”
            “You saw that?”
            Maria’s eyes got glassy again as she nodded, “Yeah…”
            “Look…I’m just a little rattled.  I’m fine though…the doc agreed I could come back-“
            “After you threatened him!”, waving a hand she cut him off before he could speak, “Don’t even try and tell me otherwise, I know you better!  You’re not ready to be back…”, she spread her hands, “Why can’t you, for once, just be okay with playing it safe?  Why can’t you just take it slow?  Are you trying to get yourself killed?!  Don’t you care AT ALL?!”
            Putting his hands up defensively, Jim shook his head, “Look…I might not be in peak shape, but I’m fine!  Don’t get paranoid on me now, Maria!  This job is dangerous and we know that, I don’t take any unnecessary risks.  Ever!  If I didn’t care, I’d be dead already!”
            “You know…after a few years with you, I started to think you actually were careful, and that the ‘Wildman’ BS was just that.  But I watch you out here…today?!”, she pointed out to the runway and the bullet hole riddled tower, “Jim…you think you’re expendable.  I know your ex-wife is a bitch and you’re alone, but you have friends…you have a partner.  People will give a shit if you die!”, I will give a shit if you die.  It was unsaid, and with good reason.
            Jim’s only answer was to run a hand through his hair, “Look…I’m not expendable…ok, maybe I am, but I don’t try to act like that.  I’m only trying to do my job, is that too much for me to be doing?”, he yelled back.  “Of course I don’t want to die!  Not now anyway…after the breakdown, the doc helped me with that.  I have…people…someone…to live for.  But I’m not going to stop doing my job, and that does mean taking risks, for them.  I can’t”
            “What would that ‘someone’ say if you told them your job was more important?”
            “That I’m crazy and need to consider retiring…and I’m not ready to retire”, then he shrugged, “…and that’s why she doesn’t know how I feel.  I’d rather lose my chances with her because she doesn’t know, than drive her batshit like I did Tiff”, starting to pace, he growled, “You can’t coddle me because I got hurt…shit happened, get over it.  Stop blaming yourself and move on!  For fuck’s sake Maria, I’m not a child!  Just suck it up, let me do my job and damnit-“, suddenly he choked that last word off.
            Maria’s eyes glistened, her mouth was tight and her eyes were wide open.  Then she pointed at him, “No…”, she said thickly, “Let me do MY job…and help you come back alive…is that too much to ask?”, she asked tilting her head.  “You know that Valentine charged me with keeping you alive…and Smith?  He was scared to come out here with you, he thought something might happen and he couldn’t stand the thought of being responsible for you!”,  a tear slid down her cheek, “I already had to watch you bleed to death…I listened and watched as you died on the table!”, she was crying now, throwing her hands up before they slapped to her thighs, “I have to go to therapy and sit with other people who lost or almost lost their partners just so I can keep my job!  All I want to do is sleep one night without having to relive watching you almost DIE in my arms!”
            Jim stood there in stunned silence.  He had no idea she’d been carrying all of this weight on her shoulders.
            Wiping her eyes, Maria shook her head, looking at him, “Don’t you dare…don’t you fucking dare tell ME to let YOU do YOUR job James Thornton!  YOU let ME do MINE!  GOT IT?!”
            Nodding, Jim whispered in reply, “I-I got it…”, then he walked over to her, closing the gap.  Gathering her into an unsure hug, he stood there and tried to comfort her, but the gesture was alien to him…he wasn’t a cold person, but he wasn’t a people person, this was still very hard for him, and Gomez had always been so tough, he’d never expected her human side to come out.
            Sobbing quietly as she tried to compose herself, a distraught and overworked Maria rested her chin on his shoulder…he was so much shorter than her that it was awkward, but at the moment, the feeling that she wasn’t alone in the midst of a tempest was welcome.  Time seemed to stand still and fly by simultaneously for both of them.  When they let their arms drop, the partners just stared at each other, Maria now dry eyed.
            “Maria…I’m sorry”
            She started to stop him, to him it was alright, but he waved her off.
            “I’m sorry for putting you through this…I just was afraid to worry you.  I didn’t know Valentine told you, and I had no goddamn clue that you were having this much trouble”, then he fidgeted with his hands, looking down at them.  “Want to come by the house for a drink?  The pool is ready…and heated”, then he looked back up at her, relieved to see her smiling, even if it was tired, it was genuine.
            Brushing hair back over her ear, she nodded, “Yeah…that would be nice”
            Pointing to the SUV, he made a grand gesture, “Our government issue chariot awaits!”
            Laughing, Gomez gave him a playful shove and then joined him on the long ride home.
***

            Between travel and the nature of the arrest, all three deputies had been awarded a day off before returning to work.  So late in the evening as the moon was coming out, Marshal Valentine was sitting at her desk working late as she often did.  She thought she had been alone.
            The sensation that someone else was near made Valentine look up from her computer screen, and who she saw filling her office doorway made her want to cringe.  Instead, she tilted her head, and with her young appearance, it was a cute gesture as she smiled sweetly, “Marshal Phillips…what can I do for you?”
            A man in his fifties with limp light brown thinning hair that was steadily going gray stepped in and took a seat.  At an even six feet tall, he used to be built similarly to Smith, but he now had a gut, and once taut muscle had softened with age.  Small brown eyes studied Valentine as his hands slid to rest on his gut, his tan colored suit looking neat, even if his form and hair did not.  Smiling, he gestured to Valentine, his deep southern accent filling the office, “I see your star deputies have caught the Interstate Killer…”
            “She is the suspect…we don’t know for sure yet…though considering her actions, it’s most likely her”, then Valentine folded her hands on her desk, smiling sliding off as she got serious, “As Regional director, you have all of the reporting…what’s the visit for?”, she asked in a gutsy move.
            Smiling greasily, Phillips spread his hands, “I’ve decided to move the human trafficking case over to the FBI…Special Agent Rosenthal is more than capable.  Besides…we need your star people on higher profile cases”
            “Star people?”, quirking a brow, Valentine seemed confused by this.
            “Yes…”, Phillips said slowly, “Deputy Marshal Gomez and Deputy Marshal Thornton…been in the news a lot over the last four years or so.  Gomez is the Deputy every young lady that joins up wants to be nowadays”
            “…and?”
            “Well…we would be better served if she was the woman every little girl in America wants to grow up to be…”
            Valentine looked visibly disgusted, “Director, I understand your interests in Public relations, but Fugitive Investigations isn’t really the place for show business…and Gomez is up for my desk.  Thornton only just got back from convalescent, he is still on a medical probation…they can handle a full caseload, but I’m trying not to overload my best people just as they are getting their rhythm back”
            “Thornton is not as important…but he makes us look good”
            “How?”
            “He looks like an everyman hero…get’s the job done creatively”, then he leaned forward, “Your people, after all, are my people.  I need my people to work on gaining public attention to the good work they are doing…besides, they are nearly celebrities, let’s push them closer to it”
            Valentine’s mouth fell open, “Absolutely out of the question!”, she said, a little breathless at this.  “My people aren’t actors!  They are federal Marshals, and the press is more detrimental to investigations than anything.  I need my best people left without their hands being tied, not being bogged down…if they are, they won’t be my best people for long”
            “Sounds like a personal problem…”
            “It’s too much…it’s one thing to spin a case to the media after it’s over, but not while it’s in progress!”
            “You indicated Gomez is up to take your desk?”
            “Yes, why?”
            “Where do you think you’re going?”
            “There are desks opening for regional director in another year…”
            “Oh I wouldn’t be too over confident”
            “Why not?”, she asked, dreading the answer.
            “I sit on the board”
            Valentine was speechless and horrified.
            “I can assume your office will cooperate?  For the careers of our star deputies?”
            She shook her head, nearly whispering, “They aren’t ready!  Thornton is still recovering, I can’t put that strain on him, and Gomez is great, but she needs her partner healthy!”
            “She will manage, I’m sure…besides…you said your people can handle a full caseload”, then he stood, “Of course I’ll give you tonight to think about it.  If your people aren’t assigned and briefed by six tomorrow morning, I’ll assume you want to ride this position for a lot longer”
            Leaving Valentine  without an answer, Marshal Phillips left to go home for the evening.  Theresa, meanwhile sat with her head in her hands for a long time.  Then she pulled up the cases that were sent from the Regional Director.
            Shaking her head, she wrestled with the idea…greater good it seemed, but then again, the Marshals had not needed to justify their existence this way before.  After a long time, she stood, preparing to leave for the night. 
            Unable to pass the end of her desk, she hung her head, and sitting on the edge of the desk, head down still, Valentine picked up the phone, resigned.
            “Gomez…”, she said when it was answered, “Grab Thornton and Smith and come in…I have…”, she sighed, “Changes to your caseload that need immediate attention”
            After a brief pause as Gomez answered, Valentine nodded, “Good, see you shortly”, then hung up the phone roughly. 
            It was going to be a long night…

Thursday, July 9, 2015

"Elusive" - Issue #3


“Elusive”
Issue #3
‘Interstate Killer’ – Part Three
By Charley Biggs


            “There!  Grab me the info for that one!”, Jim snapped, using an ink pen to point at a computer screen, meanwhile, a computer tech started processing the GPS tag from the truck that he’d picked out.  Over the last three days, Jim and Smith had been in one of the dimly lit analysis centers, tracing GPS tracks and lining them up with models of the route the killer used.  Finally, after much searching and a lot of frantic work, they isolated the track they thought was the one.
            “I don’t think that’s Johns…”, Smith said as he looked over the shoulder of the tech.
            Nodding the man confirmed, “It’s not…”, he said, mustache bristling as he sped through the info, adjusting his glasses.  The tech they had partnered up with was a man in his fifties, thin and wiry with sparse graying brown hair and a thick mustache, and his voice was as reedy as his form.  “I’m pulling the info now”
            “Speaking of Johns, is this the same carrier at least?”, Thornton asked hopefully as he ran a hand over his short hair.
            “Yes…same carrier, and similar tracks.  If they didn’t meet, I’d be amazed…”
            Pointing at Smith, Jim nodded, “Keep working it, I’m giving Gomez the heads up to talk to Johns…”, leaving the room, he immediately started a call on his cell.

***

            In Toledo, Ohio, Molly Johns had been pulled for a DOT inspection, and thanks to a fast thinking sergeant with the state police, she was escorted peacefully to a weigh station where she was promptly picked up by State Police and taken to a holding facility.  Now, she sat detained in an interrogation room, awaiting interview.
            Supervisory Deputy Gomez was there, and anxiously waiting on a call from Jim before talking to Johns.  Standing behind the glass and watching the woman, she definitely was convinced that this wasn’t their killer…but she wanted to know if she knew who was.
            Putting sugar into a Styrofoam cup, Gomez was stirring her coffee in the stark little room when her phone went off with a text message.  Tossing the stirrer and pulling the phone out, she took a moment to read the message and then nodded, lips thinning as her dark eyes went back to the figure behind the glass.
            “That what you were waiting on, Gomez?”, another deputy asked, a man in his forties with a face worn by hard times and long hours and close cropped graying brown hair that oddly made her think of Jim.  They both shared that look of having seen something that always followed them.
            Putting her phone away and picking up her files on the case, she nodded to Molly Johns, “It is…but whether or not she’ll help us remains to be seen…”
            “She was hard enough to track down…I sure hope she has something”, he said, taking a sip from a ceramic coffee mug.
            Looking at the other deputy, Gomez twisted her lips, “Me too…”, and with that, she turned on a heel and headed out to the hallway to let herself into the interrogation room.  Letting the door close behind her, Gomez barely took a step before the woman began protesting.
            Molly Johns, aged thirty-two years old from Altoona, Iowa was about five feet tall, moderately built with the curves and body shape of a woman who spent more time in the driver’s seat than on her own feet, with limp brown hair and dark eyes.  Like most drivers these days, she was dressed comfortably in loose fitting jeans, a teeshirt, and old sneakers, hair pulled back into a messy pony tail.  Her voice sounded more like a teenager’s than a woman’s as she began her explanations, “Officer, I didn’t do anything, I don’t know nothin’!”
            “Deputy…”, Gomez said quietly as she slid a chair out and laid the files out before her, setting her coffee down.  Molly just stared back at her blankly, which earned the explanation as Gomez produced a U.S. Marshal’s badge, “Deputy U.S. Marshal Gomez…not officer”, she repeated, putting the badge away as she opened the file, “The other deputies have already talked to you…so I’m just going to cut right to the chase”, lacing her fingers together, she looked at Molly, “Let’s start with where you were on June fifteenth…”
            Molly threw her hands up, “I don’t remember!”, then crossed her arms sullenly, “I was on the road…”
            Gomez took a sip of her coffee and flicked through several pages of the files, and then her lips parted in time with a raise of both eyebrows as her finger found the lines she wanted, eyes coming to meet Molly’s, “Apparently you have…Fort Wayne, Indiana…want to tell me about it?”
            “Dry freight place right off sixty-nine…what about it?”, she asked.
            “What about the intermodal yard for the railroad company?  You know ,the one a few miles from downtown off US thirty?”
            “I dunno”, she shrugged, “I’m not an intermodal driver”
            “Well, an intermodal driver was murdered down there, and you are among a handful of drivers that was down in that area”, Gomez sat back, coffee in hand, “Come on…four drivers for your company were down there…no one took a walk?”
            Molly looked away, her eyes going down to the left, “I don’t know…it was late, I was busy trying to catch a nap”
            From the angle she was sitting, aside from Molly’s defensive posture and eye contact avoidance, both of her feet were bouncing on their toes.  The woman couldn’t sit still.  Gomez grinned and took a slow sip of coffee, giving Molly a minute to rethink her answer.
            A minute or so passed and Molly realized Gomez hadn’t moved, and she started to glance at her before staring.  “Aren’t you going to write that down?”
            “That depends on you…”
            “What do you mean?”
            “Are you going to be honest with me?”
            “I AM!”
            “Really?  Sure about that, miss Johns?  Because I don’t think that’s all you have for me…look, right now, you’re facing charges as an accomplice to murder…or at the very least, obstruction of justice, neither of which are pretty.  We know that your routing mirrors the killer…and we know that you are a veteran driver with your company, and know just about every driver in your region”, leaning forward, Gomez pursed her lips, “So…what can you tell me?”
            Molly Johns gulped heavily, breath becoming quicker and more erratic as she realized that this Deputy wasn’t giving in.  After long moments of looking around, she finally rested her hands on the table with a sigh, “All I know is that Sandra went to take a walk…she does that.  A lot.  She makes her miles cause she speeds…we all do if we want to get our sleep, shower, you know…the basics.  Sometimes she takes this case with her…I just assumed it was a tripod or something.  Some truckers take pictures, you know…”
            Gomez started writing as soon as Molly started talking, this time, now that the woman settled, she could get something.  Listening and nodding, she took down more details, including the full name of this ‘Sandra’.  When they were done, Gomez thanked Molly for her time, and asked her if she wanted something to drink, having the other deputy take care of it before she left to go to the Government Issue sedan outside.  As soon as her butt hit the seat and the car was started, she made a phone call…this time she was positive they had their woman.  It was time to get a warrant.

***

            “The warrant isn’t ready just yet, I’m doing everything I can guys, just hang in there and keep a close eye on our girl”, Valentine said, phone in hand as she looked at Thornton and Smith. Then covering the receiver she looked around, “Where’s Gomez?”
            Jim held up his hands and nodded, mouthing, “On her way”, before backhanding Smith in the chest and pointing to his desk silently.
            Leaving Valentine to work out the details while Gomez got there, Jim walked over to his desk and glanced over his shoulder at Smith, “How many clips you have on you?”
            “One extra why?”
            “Load two more…”
            “Why?”, Smith asked, planting his feet and resting his hands on his hips, brushing back his open windbreaker.
            Sitting down in his desk chair and pulling out a large 9mm handgun, Beretta M9, Jim started rooting around for extra clips and a box of shells, “Because if this goes south, we want our target to run out before we do”
            “Jim, that stuff should be in the armory...”, Smith pointed out, gesturing at the extra clips that Jim was studiously loading.
            Shrugging, the shorter man kept up what he was doing, “I bought it, so they can go to hell…besides, this is my sidearm…my official one.  The revolver is supposed to be my backup.  I just hate carrying the beretta until I have to…”
            “So you’re saying I need to go down to the armory and sign out two more clips?”, Smith asked, ignoring the unnecessary and mostly bogus explanation from Thornton.
            “Yep…”
            “Then I’ll be right back…seriously though…”
            “I don’t care, so stop nagging…I need you back in here so I can explain the back-up plan”
            “Back-up plan?”
            Jim looked up at Smith, eyebrows furrowed in exasperation, “Get to the armory, then I’ll explain…”, as Smith hesitated, he pointed, “Armory!  GET THERE!”
            Smith raised his hands in an expression all too like Jim’s own usual disarming gesture, and left.  Passing him on her way in from the road, Gomez had a briefcase in hand as she walked briskly to her desk.   “Jim…do you ever sign things into the armory?”, she asked.
            Sighing, Jim banged his forehead on the edge of his desk a few times in frustration, “No!  I enjoy the questions I get!”
            “Jim…I need a ride back from my house…”
            “You’re taking my suggestion?”
            From the other side of her computer, Jim could hear the sound of Gomez checking the clip in her weapon and then grabbing at least one more clip from her desk drawer to shove into the pocket of her suit coat, “Don’t have a choice.  Smith doesn’t score well with long range weapons…and neither do you”
            Jim nodded, “I do not…I’m going to text Smith and tell him to stand by while you and I take a ride”
            Standing up, Gomez was holstering her weapon, “I’ll be outside waiting for you…”

*** 

            After checking in with Valentine fruitlessly, Jim got in his old Plymouth Fury and followed Gomez home.  Like himself, she had a few personal firearms she used for work purposes, and it was rare, partly due to the amount of paperwork involved in having them authorized for such.  Standing out in the parking garage, waiting on Gomez, Jim was leaning against the old midnight blue behemoth, trying to reload a speed loader for the little .357 magnum revolver he carried in his shoulder holster.  He was inserting the last round into it when his fingers slipped and the thing fell, spilling the cartridges out onto the cement.
            “Motherfucker!”, he growled, and in a quick, yet stiff, motion, he was bent over chasing down bullets until he had all five palmed, and quickly began loading the speed loader again.
            Standing with a wooden case about three feet long in hand, Maria had watched Jim drop the speed loader, but she didn’t say a word.  She would not, and could not do that to him, instead, she just waited calmly for him to finish what he was doing before coming out as though she had just finished.
            Jim managed to have himself looking relaxed, and even pointed to the rifle case, “Got your scope calibrated?”
            “Sighted it a few weeks ago…it’s as good as it will ever be”, she said with a strained smile as she looked him over.  At first glance, her partner looked to be his old self, but she could see the tiredness, and the unease that was weighing on him too.  This was not the Jim she was used to, and she expected some jitters returning, but it was still jarring to see.
            Jim held something out to her…car keys.  “Shit falls out of my pockets…I really don’t want to have to put a new ignition in this monster…or bust out a window”, or have to have them taken off his body.  They both knew what he was thinking.
            Maria hesitated before taking the keys, and used them to point at him, poking him in the chest, away from his scars, “I’m handing these back to you as soon as the arrest is over…”
            “Fair enough…”, Jim replied quietly.  Then, before they could say more, their phones buzzed simultaneously.  “Smith is ready…looks like our warrant is too”
            Gomez slid out her sunglasses and put them on as Jim found his old aviators and did the same, “Let’s get on the road.  Call Smith and have him get the driver manager not to load Sandra Elliot”, Gomez instructed, and Jim was on his phone immediately, “You know, this isn’t the broker, but these assholes still might tip her off that we’re coming”
            “I know…that’s why we’re going in prepared.  Let’s just hope beyond hope we won’t need it”
***

            En route to make the arrest, Gomez drove while Jim sat on the phone talking to the fusion center, trying to pinpoint the location of their suspect, Sandra Marie Elliot.   He was busy writing down coordinates from the analysts for a general box she could be in, meanwhile, Smith was using his own smartphone to pull up a satellite image of the area from a general internet source so they could get an idea where she might be.  When Jim finally passed the steno to Smith and called Valentine to let her know their ETA, she had only just answered with Smith pinpointed the location.
            “Thorney…”, he whispered desperately, “The only thing nearby where she’s located is an abandoned air field!”
            Jim took a moment to let that sink in before his face started to turn red, and he stiffened.  Slamming a hand into the dash, he spoke quickly to Valentine, “Boss, we need a warrant for the Driver Manager of Miss Elliot, a Dick Fernley, for obstruction of Justice and interfering with a federal investigation…”
            A moment’s pause before she answered, “Why?”
            “That little shit just told her we’re coming…her location puts her near an abandoned air field”
            Shit!  Alright, I’ll take care of securing a warrant.  Just get Elliot…I don’t care how, at this point, I doubt highly she’s not our suspect if she’s running…and Jim!”
            “Yeah boss?”, Jim said patiently.
            Be careful…getting her under arrest and unharmed is nice, but she starts shooting, I’d rather lose a suspect than a deputy”, and Jim knew without question that that was directed at him.
            “Don’t worry, I won’t let Smith do anything I wouldn’t do…”, he said, thumbing to Smith to direct Gomez to a safe point they could stage at.
            Damnitall Jim!  I am serious!”, she yelled loudly enough that everyone in that car heard her voice and Jim had to hold the phone away from his face with a grimace.
            “I know boss, keep your shirt on…or…hair…or whatever, just relax, no one is getting hurt unless it’s Elliot…you have my word on that”
            “MINE TOO!”, Gomez yelled, leaning over Jim as she did so Valentine could hear.
            Good.  I know Gomez can keep you in line…I’ll work on that warrant.  I want a call as soon as she’s in custody”
            “Got it…”, ending the call, Jim tucked the phone away and then ran a hand over his face.
            “Jim…maybe we ought to try and wait for her to get bored and leave…”, Maria said.
            Waving a hand, he shook his head, “Too late for that.   I want you in a nest somewhere that she can’t see…and I don’t care how bad it is, unless one of us is about to get out head blown off, you stay down.  The idea is to run her out of ammunition, she’ll see us before we see her…and we’ll need the  SUV, Smith”
            “What about Smith?”, Smith asked hesitantly.
            “You’re going to park this mother behind something so it doesn’t get fucked up when we go for Elliot.  We don’t want her to know there’s another Deputy or she’ll be looking for them…and Gomez…aim for her shoulder if you shoot her.  The shoulder she rests the butt of the rifle against, not her strong hand”
            Maria nodded without a word, though her lips thinned, she obviously wasn’t keen on Jim charging high ground with no body armor…again.  Smith was even more uncertain.
            “Thorney, that’s a small target…”
            “Nothing Gomez can’t do…she can put a hole through a playing card at eight hundred yards easy…this will be a cake walk for her”
            “What about us?”
            “We will keep our heads down and if necessary give her harassment fire to keep her at us.  We want her eyes on us, not scanning around for more people…and she will if she has too much time on her hands”
            “That’s not proper protocol…”
            “It doesn’t matter…this is an unusual situation, and we are defending ourselves as well as defending our sniper’s position.  It is within the realms of legality”
            “Barely…”
            “Barely is still within…how far?”
            “Another few miles to a good staging point, and I found a place for Gomez”
            “What kind of place?”, Gomez asked as she kept them down the road to the airfield per the whispered directions Smith had relayed earlier.
            Smith pointed to the horizon, “A maintenance building up ahead at the edges of the field…she’ll see the SUV, let’s hope she doesn’t see you”
            “Might want to change drivers now then”, Jim pointed out, waving Gomez over to a sign on the highway. 
            When Gomez pulled over and jumped in the back with Smith now driving, Jim pulled out his revolver and checked it, “Gotta be quick…this woman will know something is up if we don’t get a move on…and we’ll need to haul ass.  Got a good place to park this thing safely?”
            Behind them, Gomez was ducked down in the back seat attaching the scope to her 30-06 and pulling out a box of rounds, “You need a building or a hangar”, she suggested.
            “There is a hangar on the other side of the runway…providing she is in the tower”
            “..and if she’s on the maintenance building?”, Thornton asked, holstering his weapon.
            Smith shrugged, “No way to tell really, and there isn’t a lot of cover out here...trees or otherwise”
            “Perfect…we’re a rolling target”
            “Yep…”, Smith agreed.
            Time passed, minutes that felt like hours as they came in sight of the airfield.  The airfield was located in the state of Iowa, and had been a hell of a drive from the Ohio office, and it being Iowa, the landscape was rolling green and brown plain rather than trees like the more eastern states.  Elliot had the advantage in every way, and the deputies all knew it.  They were walking right into a trap with no back up…all for the political gain of the Marshals getting their suspect.
            “See any movement on the maintenance building?”, Gomez asked from her spot in the back.
            “Nothing”, Smith said flatly.
            “Get us next to it and let’s give it a quick look before we start looking around for Elliot…”, Jim advised.
            When the SUV pulled in behind the maintenance building, Jim stepped out first, drawing the M9 from his hip, “Smith…clear the building, I’ll step in behind you and cover you.  Gomez, keep your head down until we give you the signal”
            Whether or not she liked it, Maria wasn’t given a choice, and she knew it was imperative to wait on the guys, but having Jim in there without being there to watch his back set her teeth on edge.  A few minutes later, Jim was opening the door, “We spotted her in the main tower…lucky us, but it also gives her the edge, and there is jack shit for cover”, he said quickly, and then he thumbed to the building as Smith jumped in the driver’s seat, “Go up there and keep your head down…unless it looks like we are going to get shot, don’t shoot at her.  We want her to run out of shells…and more importantly, we don’t want her dead”
            “I know Jim…”, and as Maria started into the building, she placed a hand on Jim’s shoulder, stopping him before he went to join Smith, “Be careful…”, turning to look him in the eye, her brows rose as high as they could, wrinkling her forehead and widening her dark eyes, “I’m putting your keys back in your hand, and you’re driving home tonight…promise me you will come back”, she said, her voice low and firm, and a little thick.
            “Maria…”, Jim began but she squeezed his shoulder.
            “Damnit Jim! Promise me!”
            “I promise…”, he said, covering her hand with his before easing it off his shoulder, “I’ll come back…don’t I always?”, he asked with a grin, and before she could answer, he was in the SUV.
            Pursing her lips and glassy eyed, Gomez watched the guys drive off…she hoped he’d listen.  Smith she didn’t worry about, Jim on the other hand was a risk taker…and worse, he wasn’t up to par anymore, no matter what he said.  Turning away, letting her emotions start to slide off as the job ahead called, she went to go find a good point to hole up and eye her target.

***

            “What was that about?”
            “She just wants me to be careful…”
            “Are you?”
            “Am I what?”, Jim asked, looking off at the tower.  He knew she had to see them…what was she waiting on?
            “Going to be careful?”, Smith asked, guiding the SUV behind an old hangar.  Then as he parked the vehicle, he turned to Thornton, and poked him in the chest, “I know I’m junior to you, but seriously, Thornton.  Don’t take stupid risks…your life isn’t worth it”, then he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “You’re the best mentor I’ve had yet…I don’t want to lose that”
            Jim looked at the larger man, younger, but bigger, smarter, faster…Smith was the perfect Marshal, and with none of his own personal brand of damaging personality flaws.  Taking a moment, he shook his head, “You have Gomez…she’s a living legend, my friend.  One of, if not the best, Marshal active, and there’s a reason she’s up for Valentine’s spot”, realizing that wasn’t what Smith wanted to hear, he chuckled, “I’m not going to get myself killed now…I worked to hard to get back to work.  Stick to the plan, Gomez has us covered…now let’s go before Elliot starts looking too closely for more of us”, he said, getting out before Smith could say another word. 
            Pointing for Smith to go around to the right where there was more cover, Jim started carefully walking to the edge of the hangar nearest the flightline.  Poking his head out, eyes going for the tower, he was rewarded with a glint of sunlight against a small object he assumed was the scope.  The glint shifted, and Jim yanked his head back, stumbling against the hangar wall as simultaneously the crack of a rifle was heard and metal and dust filled the air where his head had been…

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