Insert your favorite standard disclaimer here. {Yes I know they are not mine, no I didn't make any money off this, yadda, yadda, yadda.} Thanks to Rona for correcting my lousy punctuation.
This is the fifth story in the series and the end of the main story arc. ("A Place to Belong," "The Place Where We Belong," "A Place to Call Home," and "A Place Worth Fighting For.") It also happens to be Donna's auction story. I hope you enjoy.
Our story begins immediately after "A Place Worth Fighting" for ended. I would recommend reading the early stories since this one took so long to finish.
Trishbsc
William Ellison's Home
Blair noted the crease was on Simon's forehead again. The line that only appeared when he was worried about his son. He nudged Simon's arm and pointed on the back window. "What's up with Daryl? Did Jim's behavior tonight freak him out a little?" Blair asked.
Simon shrugged. "I don't know for sure, but I don't think so. He's been kinda moody ever since he got home from work this afternoon. I asked him how his day went, but he didn't really answer me. He just grunted and headed out there."
As they watched, Daryl moved out of their view as he crossed the patio and sat down on one of the loungers. His slumping posture and lowered head spoke volumes to the two men about what he was feeling, but gave no clue as to the cause.
"Why don't I see if he'll talk to me," Blair suggested.
"Good idea. Maybe he'll be able to tell a friend what he can't seem to say to his father," Simon replied as he slapped Blair on the back. "Good luck trying to get Daryl to talk. Sometimes, he's as stubborn as that pig-headed partner of your."
"No problem then; I've had a lot of practice with Jim, Daryl should be a piece of cake." Before he headed outside, Blair snatched two fresh beers from the refrigerator. Closing the patio door behind him, Blair grabbed one of the lawn chairs and placed it across from Daryl before sitting down.
"How ya doing, Daryl?" Blair asked as he offered a fresh beer to the young man.
"I'm fine," Daryl murmured without raising his head.
Blair ducked down so that he could see Daryl's face, continuing to hold the bottle to the young man, he replied. "Well, you don't seem fine to me. I'm surprised you don't have scrape marks on your face from dragging your chin across this patio."
Leaning back slightly, Daryl chuckled before grabbing the bottle. "My Dad send you out here to check up on me?"
"Nope, but he knows something's up. And you know what that means."
"Huh?" Looking puzzled, Daryl shook his head. "I don't have a clue what you're talking about."
Blair shivered in the cool night air. It would be nice if he could convince Daryl to move this discussion inside. "It means that there's no way I'm going back inside without knowing what's wrong. I'll make it my number one priority; my life will have no purpose until I figure it out. Get the picture?"
Daryl snickered as Blair continued "Aaannnndddd, unless you cooperate, I'll deliberately drive you nuts in the process. Don't believe me? Just ask Jim, I do it to him all the time, so you might as well spill it. What's bothering you Daryl?"
Daryl popped the top and took a long drink before speaking. Blair waited patiently. He wasn't surprised when Daryl started speaking after a few minutes.
"You're right. Something's been bugging me, but I'm not sure if I'm right. I'm not sure I should talk about it yet."
"No offense intended, Daryl, but if you've got a problem with what we're doing here. It would be better for all of us if you brought it out into the open now. We can't afford any problems within the team right now. Bertelli's smart enough to take advantage of any weakness we show right now."
"Nah, I know we're doing the right thing here. It's not that." Daryl rolled the beer bottle between his palms before continuing. "My partner, Hank Maggio, has been asking me a lot of questions about what I'm doing. Why I'm not hanging around with the guys at the station anymore."
"And it's bothering you that you can't tell him," Blair guessed.
Daryl winced and shook his head. "No, that's not it. Well, it's not only that. I'm getting the feeling that he doesn't really care about what I'm doing as much as he wants to know about what I'm doing with Major Crime, what we're working on. You know what I mean?"
Blair smiled, punching Daryl in the arm, "Well, you've been his partner since you graduated from the academy. He just may be experiencing a little separation anxiety. You know, afraid the little birdie is flying away from the nest a little too soon."
Daryl rested his head on his hands. Sometimes it really sucked being the youngest member of the team. "God, Blair, shut up!" Shaking his head, he continued, "I'm serious here, it's not what he's asking as much as the way he's asking. Like he's desperate or something. There's this little part of me that keeps whispering that he might be working for Bertelli, but then I feel really guilty for thinking that. I mean he's the only partner I've ever had. My Dad told me that I could trust him, but now, I just don't know. I'm getting a real bad feeling every time I talk to him."
"Have you talked to your Dad about this?" Blair thought he knew the answer to this question, but he wanted to find out why Daryl hadn't brought to Simon's attention.
"No, I've been trying to figure about a way to be sure. I mean, if I'm wrong and Hank's got nothing to do with Bertelli, I've ruined a good partnership. I mean eventually I'm going back to patrol and I don't want those guys thinking I'm a snitch. But if I'm right, and Hank is a bad cop, we need to take him down along with the rest of Bertelli's operation."
Blair ran his hand through his hair. This was just a bad situation for anyone to be in, much less someone Daryl's age. "I see your point, but Daryl, we really have to figure out if Hank is on Bertelli's payroll, before he figures out what we're up to and rats us out."
"I've been thinking about how to do that. I figured I might be able to set up a trap. You know, make like I've let something slip and see if he takes the bait. I'm just not sure I can handle it by myself. And if I'm right, Hank may figure out his cover's been blown and try something drastic." Daryl took another sip from his beer. "I just don't know what to do."
"Don't try it, Daryl," Jim said moving onto the patio, from his position by the door.
"You heard?" Daryl squeaked, spitting out some of what he had just tried to drink.
Jim pointed to his ear and smirked, not saying a word.
"Duh, of course you heard. You can probably hear a mouse fart from two miles away," Daryl muttered.
"He's not quite that good," Blair said with a smile.
"Not in the city with all this noise," Jim replied. "You did have a good idea about setting a trap though. You guys come inside and we'll bring the others up to speed and see what we can arrange."
Several Weeks Later
Blair looked out the bathroom window. Tonight was the night. The trap had been set. Now all they had to do was wait and see if Hank had taken the bait. Either way, it was going to be a victory for the city. If Hank was a rat, Bertelli would be at the docks tonight in full force. If Hank was a good cop, there would still be a lot of guns taken off the market and it should be an easy take down.
If...
Too many ifs were running through this plan...
Blair watched as Simon and Jim loaded up the van with their gear. Over the past several weeks, they had been hitting every Bertelli operation was running throughout the city, everywhere except for waterfront area. The plan had been to make Bertelli believe that his waterfront operation had not been detected. Between Major Crimes' rogue operation, and the official operations launched by the department, they had made a serious dent in both Bertelli's drug and gun running businesses.
Tonight, Bertelli was bringing a huge shipment of automatic weapons into the docks. Simon had anonymously tipped off the ATF office what was going down, not that they had needed the tip. Bertelli was getting desperate, and sloppy. The ATF had heard about the shipment long before Simon's tip.
While the AFT was working the ship and the trucks offloading the guns officially, Major Crime was responsible for providing backup for the ATF. To lay the trap, they had brought in several select patrol officers to close down the streets. Everyone had been carefully selected and screened. They were sure of everyone, except for Hank.
Jim, Blair and Simon would be staying in the shadows, hoping to take down Maggio if not Bertelli himself. Rafe and Henri had arranged to be assigned to the perimeter, leaving them free to move about the waterfront area, looking for the ambush they were sure Bertelli had arranged. Daryl had been positioned with Hank Maggio.
Joel was working with the ATF. It seems that he had known the head agent from his military days, a guy named Chris Larabee. His team was out of Denver, but they had been following the guns from the beginning of the operation. Supposedly, they had a man on the inside.
As Jim closed the door of the van, Blair put the finishing touches on blackening his face. He stared into the mirror and sighed. They had done too good of a job winnowing down Bertelli's operation. Word on the street was that Bertelli had brought in some heavy hitters from Chicago. Blair had a bad feeling, tonight wasn't going to be a walk in the park. Bertelli wasn't going down easy. He pulled on his black leather jacket and headed outside to join the others.
Dock 27
Antonio rubbed his hands together and blew on his palms, trying to warm them. They were watching the operation from an open-air balcony, no shelter from the brisk night air.
Flexing his fingers, he looked over at his superior. "Sir, I believe we are putting all our eggs in the same basket. This could backfire on us. We were not exactly circumspect when arranging this particular deal."
His brow furrowed, Alfonse asked, "What are you worried about? With the additional firepower from the Carpucci family, we'll have no problem with either the ATF or Cascade PD. Since they're taking a share of the munitions, it will be their problem to control the dock. I'm not worried about the rest. Particularly since Maggio was able to provide us the exact location of the raid team," replied Bertelli as he adjusted the focus on his binoculars and sniggered. "Ducks in a barrel, Antonio, just like shooting ducks in a barrel."
"That is what concerns me. It is unusual for the scene control officers to be part of the briefing for an operation this large. I am suspicious of Mr. Maggio's information, Sir, and I believe we are too close, too conspicuous."
"Quit worrying, with this shipment we'll own this town. Ellison and his little band of merry men won't be able to stop us. We'll be able to take back all the territory we've lost since Ellison came to town."
Antonio sighed. This feud with Ellison had gone too far. His boss was more concerned about taking out Ellison than running what had been a most profitable operation. Perhaps it was time to consider other employment.
Dockside
Jim moved through the shadows, using his senses to pinpoint the location of each member of Bertelli's team. Blair moved with him a few steps behind, ensuring that Jim didn't zone at this crucial time.
"Bingo," Jim whispered as he identified the location of Bertelli's ambush. "Rafe, two warehouses down from your location, the one marked number 13, there's a group of four men. Henri, in the warehouse right behind you, the one with the UPS symbol, there's another group of seven more. We need to take them out before they get the jump on the ATF guys."
"Bertelli's brought in a lot of extra men on this one," Rafe replied. "Between the 11 guys on the dock, plus 10 in ambush, he can't have many people left."
"Good, maybe we can finish this tonight," Henri replied. "What's the plan?"
"Blair will join Rafe on the guys behind him. Henri, I'm coming to you."
Rafe studied the warehouse carefully for a moment waiting for Blair to join him. He didn't have long to wait.
"So, what's the plan?" Blair whispered.
"I think we can keep them from leaving the warehouse. If I recall the building plans, there's only two ways out, through the garage door and through the main door in the back. We can contain them, no problem," Rafe replied.
"What have you got in mind?" Blair asked curiously, studying the warehouse.
"Well, think you can do something about that side door, some kind of barricade? I'll see what I can do about disabling that automatic lift system for the garage door. Funny thing about having no power, those automatic doors are a pain to try and open manually, particularly when they're that size. And even if they do manage to open the door, I think I saw several crates of dishwashing detergent over there.
"Dishwashing detergent," Blair snickered. "Brings all new meaning to the phrase cleaning up this town."
Laughing quietly each man headed out to complete his task. They still had 30 minutes before the shipment was supposed to arrive. Plenty of time to prevent an ambush and have a little fun at the same time.
UPS Warehouse
"So, what's the plan, big guy?" Henri asked.
"Thinking, Brown. I don't want to take on all seven of those guys. It's too many for just the two of us. I'm thinking more about containment than capture. We only need to stop them from ambushing the ATF agents, not capture them," Jim replied, carefully studying the surrounding warehouses.
"Happy to hear that, James. Not looking forward to rushing in there myself."
"I want this done, Henri. Over with! I want my family home with me. This has dragged out a lot longer than I expected," Jim replied, as he noticed the fleet of UPS trucks along the side of the warehouse.
"Ever siphoned gasoline, Henri, from a truck?" Jim asked, also noting the presence of some long tubing on the dock behind him.
"Aaahhh, why yes, James. Fond memories of a misspent youth are flashing before my eyes at this moment. I take it you have a plan."
"Containment, remember? Would you like to pass through a wall of fire, just to get shot at by ATF agents as well as the police?" Jim asked.
Henri shook his head as he replied, "And while I'm appropriating the gasoline for our use, what will you be doing."
"Arranging an obstacle course. We can't have them getting around the flames easily now can we?" Jim answered.
30 minutes later
"Are they ever going to get here?" Blair whispered across the radio.
"Patience is a virtue, Sandburg," Simon replied from the confines of the van. Simon was the only one who could hear everything going on at the scene. He was tied into the ATF as well as the police band."
"Any sign of Bertelli yet?" Blair whispered again, ignoring Simon's comment.
"I'm looking, Chief," Jim answered back. "So far, I haven't spotted him, but I'm sure he's close. This is too big a deal for him not to oversee it personally."
"Heads up everyone, several trucks were just reported at the gate." Simon interrupted.
It seemed to take forever for the trucks to arrive, but less than a minute later the trucks pulled up to dock 27. It was then that Jim noticed two men standing on top of a balcony of the shipping yard control building. While the men on the balcony were using binoculars to see the dock area, Jim easily identified one of them as Alfonse Bertelli. The second man was known only as Antonio. There was no record of him anywhere, not even his last name was known. Not that it mattered; both of them were going down tonight.
"Simon, I just spotted Bertelli. Can you get down here? Help Henri keep these guys away from the bust while I go after Bertelli. I don't want him walking away," Jim asked over the radio.
"On my way," Simon replied.
"Go, Jim. I've got it covered here," Henri suggested as he watched Jim becoming more antsy with each passing second.
He could see Jim consider the offer, but then reject it. Shaking his head, Jim replied, "And leave you outnumbered seven to one? Sandburg would kill me."
The sounds of gunfire quickly filled the air. The ATF raid on the deal had begun. Simon arrived just as the men inside both of the warehouses attempted to come to the aid of the rest of their gang.
"Go, Jim. Don't let that son of a bitch get away," Simon said, as he pointed his weapon at the warehouse. Jim took off toward the control building, just as Henri lit off the gasoline. A huge fireball rose in the night sky driving Bertelli's men back into the safety of the warehouse.
Jim looked over at the other warehouse. He really didn't want to walk out if there was any risk to his team. It appeared Rafe and Blair had the situation well in had. He could see Rafe and Blair watching the garage door, waiting to see if the guys inside would figure a way out of their warehouse.
Jim focused his hearing on the sounds coming from the building. Chuckling quietly, he heard the chaos from inside. From what he could hear, they hadn't made any progress on leaving the warehouse.
Shooting continued down by the trucks, but it sounded as if the ATF, too, had things well in hand. He headed towards the building where he had spotted the two watchers.
"What the hell just happened? What happened to my men?" Bertelli shouted angrily.
Antonio watched as the ATF took down the last of the gun dealers. "I believe we have just been had, Sir."
Bertelli glared at his right hand man, not saying a word.
"We should leave now. Before we too are caught in this trap."
Biting his lip, Bertelli shook his head. "Not yet. We still have men in that warehouse," Bertelli replied, focusing his attention on the fire."
Jim tried to stay under the cover of buildings as much as possible. He didn't want to alert Bertelli to his presence. He was still too far away if Bertelli decided to cut his losses. Judging from the sounds behind him, the only shooting was coming from the battle between the ATF and the gun dealers. None of the ambush team in the warehouse had made it outside yet.
He watched the watchers for a brief moment. With the fire burning brightly at the UPS warehouse, all Bertelli's attention was focused there.
Kneeling on the cool, hard pavement, Jim paused, studying the area around the control building. With the full moon, there was no cover to get him too much closer to his adversaries. He waited in the shadow of the last warehouse. He needed a diversion. Something that would ensure neither of the men above him would see him until the last possible moment.
He waited and watched.
Simon and Henri took up positions in front of the warehouse. The flames were burning lower now, and they could see the men inside planning something, gesturing at the fire then something behind them.
"What do you think they're up to Captain?" Henri asked, coughing a little as the wind was blowing the smoke in his face.
"Nothing good for us. Get ready because I think they're coming for us," Simon replied.
One of the men headed for a forklift that was parked inside the building. He raised the lift, protecting himself from the flames and rammed through the obstacle course that had been so carefully arranged. The others followed close behind.
Simon and Henri fired at the men now converging on their position. They were outnumbered and outgunned.
"Keep them back," Simon shouted, his eyes watering from the fumes and smoke. "All we have to do is delay them here."
Gritting his teeth, Henri shouted back over the gunfire, "Easy said then done, man!"
"You ready, Blair?" Rafe asked as the garage door rose about a foot off the ground. "Here they come."
"On it," Blair replied tersely, aiming his weapon at the door as it raised another foot off the ground.
Another few seconds later, the first targets appeared. Two of the men slid under the door.
Both Blair and Rafe held their fire as the men immediately lost their footing and hit the ground, slipping on the liquid detergent that Blair had poured all around the area. As the other two men exited the warehouse, they too quickly lost their footing landing on top of the first two.
One of the four managed to hold onto his weapon, but when Blair fired a few shots over their heads, the man lost his gun as he tried to duck out of the line of fire.
"That was easy," Blair said as he and Rafe watched as three of the four men raised their hands to surrender. The fourth was holding one arm at his side. Judging from the angle of the lower arm, he had broken it when he'd fallen.
"Good, now why don't you go follow Jim? Since officially you're not here, I'll have to call in for help taking these guys in. We can't afford for you to be spotted here."
Blair hesitated. "You sure?" He looked over at the dejected wise guys, sitting in a puddle of dishwashing detergent. "Never mind, looks like those guys decided now was a good time to clean up their act."
"Oh GOD, Blair. No puns, just beat it. Go find Jim," Rafe moaned as he picked up his radio.
As soon as the words left Rafe's mouth, both men heard what sounded like World War III coming from the direction of the UPS warehouse.
"Jim can take care of himself," Blair muttered as he reversed directions and headed toward Simon and Henri. "Sounds like I'm needed over there."
Joel watched as the last of the gun dealers was cuffed and loaded into the transport vehicle. All in all, the bust had been a success. Two of the ATF agents had minor wounds, but that had been all the injuries at the dock, at least for the good guys. He couldn't say the same about Bertelli's men.
He looked behind him at the huge fire that was burning in one of the warehouses. He wondered if the rest of his team was okay. He sighed, rubbing away the sweat that was rolling down his face.
Man, I'm getting to old for this job, Joel thought as he continued to watch the smoke rolling into the air.
"Joel, what do you think is going on over there?" Agent Larabee asked, pointing at the rising smoke.
Joel jumped at the sound of his old friend's voice coming right behind him. Chris's habit of dressing all in black made him blend in with the shadows. "I think our perimeter isn't secure yet, Chris," Joel replied as the sound of gunfire rose over the roar of the flames. He wasn't sure how much he should say. He trusted Chris with his life, but Chris was a fed now.
He winced as the sound of automatic weapons being fired continued to echo out across the water. "There was a rumor that Bertelli had extra men staged all around here in case of a raid. Sounds like it wasn't just a rumor." Joel double-checked his firearm and his extra ammo before setting off in the direction of the fire. He didn't bother to see if anyone was following. It didn't sound like he had time to wait.
"Buck! Josiah! I need you front and center!" Agent Larabee shouted. "Sounds like we've got more trouble. Nathan! Look after JD and Erza." Speaking into his radio he continued to bellow out instructions, "Vin, find a likely high nest near where that fire is coming from. We need that long eye of yours."
"I take it that the job's not over yet, Brother?" Josiah asked, approaching his boss.
"Nope, we still have some mopping up to do. Let's go, Buck! Get a move on!" Chris yelled. Not waiting for a reply, Chris headed for the firefight that could still be heard.
"Damnit," Henri moaned, curled into a ball, both hands holding onto his thigh with the bullet wound.
"Hang on, Brown," Simon yelled as he continued to fire at the men coming toward them. Two of them were down, but that still left the odds five against one.
Simon ducked as several bullets impacted the crates around them, sending wood splinters flying in all directions.
"Need a little help here," Simon muttered as he fired again.
"Will I do?" Blair asked, as he dove for cover, landing a few feet away from Simon's position.
"Lay down cover fire, Sandburg. I need to get to Brown," Simon ordered, relieved that he had some backup.
As Blair opened fire, Simon ran for where Henri was lying on the ground. Grabbing him by the jacket, Simon dragged Henri into a more sheltered area. Dropping his weapon, Simon removed his belt and used it as a tourniquet.
"How you doing, Henri?" Simon asked, pulling the belt tighter.
Through gritted teeth, Henri replied, "Been better, Sir."
Though he continued to provide cover fire, Blair looked over at the two men, trying to determine just how badly Henri had been hit.
Simon pulled out a handkerchief and put pressure on the bullet wound. "It's just a flesh wound, Brown. What're you whining about?" Simon said, but the look in flashed at Blair indicated otherwise.
His whole body shaking, Henri closed his eyes against the pain before losing the battle to remain conscious.
Squeezing Brown's shoulder, Simon urged, "Hang on, Henri. We'll get you out of here." Raising his eyes to the night sky, he added just under his breath, "We'll get you help, I'm not losing any more of my people," before picking up his gun, firing at the approaching enemy.
Antonio shook his head at the chaos reigning on the ground below. How had everything gone so wrong? The ATF had all the men at the dock under arrest. There was no hope of salvaging that situation. The men at the two ambush sites had not made any progress. In fact, the men stationed in the north warehouse were out of the picture. Four men, almost without firing a shot, had already surrendered. They would pay the price for their incompetence, their cowardice.
There was still hope from the south warehouse. Those men were at least battling against the three men holding them at bay. Using the forklift had been inspired. He would reward those men, if they actually survived. His boss's voice drew his attention away from the fight waging below.
"Incompetent fools! I need to get down," Alfonse yelled angrily as he watched his men being handcuffed and led away.
As Alfonse Bertelli turned away from the railing, he knocked his lieutenant against the side of the balcony. As Antonio regained his balance, he noticed a shadowy figure approaching their building. Regaining his balance, he reached for the door leading back inside the building.
"We need to head to the car, Sir. We've been spotted," Antonio stated. Dragging his boss with him, he punched the button that would call for the elevator to take them to the ground to their waiting limo. He stared at the lights above the elevator, wishing they would change faster. The last thing they needed at this point was Ellison to catch up to them.
Jim approached the doorway leading into the control building, but the sound of a car engine drew his attention away. Rounding the corner, Jim punched the wall in anger as he could only watch Antonio force Bertelli into the limo as the driver was pulling away. So close, yet not close enough. Jim watched as the limo headed directly for the police cruisers blocking the exit from the waterfront.
He realized quickly that the limo had been staged in the area Maggio and Daryl were assigned to cover. The limo picked up speed and headed straight for the cruisers, showing no signs of slowing. Jim started running after the limo, firing at the tires, hoping for a miracle.
"MOVE DARYL!" Jim shouted as he realized the gap between the two police cars was just large enough that the limo would have no trouble pushing them out of the way.
Daryl dove out of the path of the oncoming vehicle, landing hard behind a couple of crates. Hank stood and watched as the limo crashed through the barricade and slowed down.
Jim slowed to a stop, aiming his weapon as the back window of the limo rolled down and the muzzle of a gun poked through. Jim fired, but not in time to prevent the shooter from firing, hitting Hank right between the eyes.
Jim continued to fire, joined by Daryl, but it was too late. The limo turned the corner and drove out of sight. Jim walked over to where Daryl was now standing over Hank's body.
"I guess we know for sure now, huh Jim," Daryl said sadly as he re-holstered his gun. "Bertelli didn't want to leave any loose ends."
Jim shook his head, "This wasn't Bertelli, it was that lieutenant of his, Antonio. This was his handiwork."
Daryl nodded, as he reached for his radio. "I need to call this in. You might want to disappear. "
"You're right, as I'm not officially here. You've got this?"
"Yeah, no problem," Daryl paused before continuing, "Is everyone else okay?"
"Sorry Daryl, with your Dad out of the van, I haven't heard anything from the others. I'll let you know as soon as I can."
Daryl turned his attention back to his radio, calling in the words every policeman fears, "Officer down, I need assistance at 3rd and Oak. Repeat, Officer down."
UPS Warehouse
Blair reached into his back pocket for his last clip. The odds were still five to two against them. While neither side had gained any ground, neither side had a way to retreat. It was a stalemate.
He glanced over at Simon. "How's Henri?"
Simon shook his head. "Not good. We need to get him to a hospital... soon."
The sound of approaching footsteps drew Simon's attention away from Henri. Pointing to his right, Simon and Blair both aimed their weapons at the approaching unknowns.
Joel rounded the corner, several other men close on his heels. Both had lowered their weapons until they were sure they were recognized. "Need a hand, guys?" he asked. "I brought some help. Meet Chris Larabee, ATF, the big guy behind him is Josiah, the one with the cheesy mustache is Buck."
Simon nodded at the newcomers, acknowledging that the man in black was in charge, probably his equal in rank, if not ability. Then, smiling as he realized the odds were now on their side, the additional guns from the ATF were now added to their side. "Nice to meet you, Agent Larabee. Joel, would you radio in for assistance? Brown needs an ambulance."
"I'm already on it," said the large mustached man who had appeared a few steps behind Agent Larabee. "Hold on, Pard," Buck said with the phone in one hand, the other hand applying pressure on Brown's bleeding leg.
Chris fired off a few rounds, watching as both a large African American man and a younger curly haired man fought off Bertelli's men. He tried to recall if they had been present at the briefing earlier in the day, but neither face was familiar.
Joel noticed the close scrutiny his friends were undergoing. "I'll introduce you all later, Chris. The short guy is Blair Sandburg; the other is Simon Banks, Captain of Major Crime. They're both on our side," Joel explained nervously.
"Unofficially on our side?" Chris surmised.
"Very unofficially, in fact they were never here, Chris," Joel answered.
Chris nodded. While he didn't recognize Sandburg. Simon Banks had a good reputation in law enforcement. Whatever was going on here, it was clear that Banks and Sandburg had protected his men from an ambush. In fact, it appeared that Joel had found the same close knit team that he had found in with the ATF in Denver.
The battle lasted only a few minutes longer. With the additional firepower provided by the ATF, it wasn't long before two more of Bertelli's men fell to Vin's sniper shooting. After that, the remaining three surrendered.
Joel looked over at Blair, still kneeling on the ground, watching as the ATF agents led the survivors of the battle back to the dock area. The noise of the ambulance getting louder with each passing moment, Joel patted Blair on the back. "You need to leave now, Blair. Go find, Jim. Tell him what's happened and meet us at the hospital. I'll stay with Henri."
Blair didn't seem to hear anything or anyone. He just continued to sit on the ground, staring blankly off into the flames.
"Simon, get him out of here," Joel said, firmly. "You can't exactly be here either."
Josiah moved over to where Blair was sitting. With his large frame, he had no problem pulling Blair to his feet. "Don't worry, son. We'll look after Joel and your friend." He waited until Blair looked up into his eyes, before continuing, "We won't leave either of them alone. My promise to you."
Bertelli's headquarters
Alfonse looked out the window of his penthouse apartment. Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned away from the view of the harbor.
"Are they all dead?"
"No, Sir. Fortunately not," Antonio answered. "As I indicated to you before, I believe we were set up. Mr. Maggio's information was accurate to the point that we should have figured out that it was obviously a trap."
Alfonse looked around over his lieutenant's shoulder, noting the absence of any bodyguards. "How many men did we lose?"
Antonio stared at his shoes, shuffling his feet for a moment before staring his boss straight in the eye and answering, "All of them, Sir."
"All of them?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Twenty-one of mine and the Carpucci family men are all dead? That's impossible."
"I didn't say they were dead, Sir, just lost to us."
Alfonse slammed his hand down on the table. "Would you quit stalling and just tell me what the hell is going on?"
"From what I have been able to discover, only four of the men were killed. Six of the men have been taken to various hospitals in the city with various injuries, none critical. The seven men the Carpucci family sent from Chicago were all picked up by the ATF, along with four of our own men."
"The ATF? Damnit, I haven't been able to make many inroads with the ATF. Not Major Crime nor the Cascade PD? I know several judges I could call if they're in police custody."
"No, sir. The operation was being run by the ATF, their bust. They've taken control of both the men and the guns. The only involvement by Cascade PD was backup and some perimeter traffic control."
"Did you see any of the officers from Major Crime?"
"No, not with the ATF personnel, but our planned ambush was thwarted by six men. I believe we have now confirmed that Ellison and his friends are the ones who stuck the thorn in our operations. While we are sure that three of the men were Ellison, Sandburg and Banks, we didn't identify the other three. However, a Henri Brown from Major Crime is currently in intensive care with a gunshot wound at Cascade General. He is probably one of the three unknowns."
"So the operation wasn't a total loss," Alfonse said, rubbing his chin, thoughtfully.
"Since we do not have anyone in place in either the ATF or the federal courts, it is unlikely we will be able to get our people out of custody. This will anger the Carpucci family and will make it unlikely that we will be receiving additional manpower anytime soon."
"No matter, once Ellison and his friends are out of the picture, this operation will get back to normal."
"It may not be quite so easy. Since Maggio has been eliminated, Ellison will force a showdown. He'll know that this war is coming to an end, one way or another. He will not be taken down easily. If I were him, I'd take cover for a while, but I don't think he's the type of man who will sit back and wait. He will be coming for us unless we take him out first."
Alfonse crossed the room and stared out the windows again, considering his options before speaking, "Well I guess we'll have to draw him out from his hiding place. And I think I know exactly how to do it. Do we still have contacts at Washington University?"
Antonio tilted his head, furrowing his brow. "I believe Marcus is still part of the board there. What do you have in mind?"
"I'm feeling a need to share my wealth with the community. I think a donation would be appropriate. I hear that saving the South American rain forest and its indigenous tribes is a very hot topic for discussion on campus these days. Yes, a symposium on the topic would be a good idea. Don't you agree, Antonio?"
Antonio smirked. The easiest way to get to Ellison was through his family and Blair Sandburg was definitely one of the family. "I'll see to it at once, Sir. I'm sure we can arrange to have the guest speaker you desire present for the evening."
"Damnit!"
Chancellor Edwards slammed the newspaper down on the desk. This wasn't happening. That little twerp couldn't possibly be coming to speak on her campus. She picked up her coffee cup and took a long drink.
Her hands shaking with rage, she finished reading the caption aloud. "Dr. Blair Sandburg, professor from Washington University, will be the keynote speaker Friday night at Rainier University. He will be leading a panel concerning the plight of the native South American tribal peoples."
She was sure she had seen the last of him when he had left Rainier for Peru, not that she hadn't already decided his contract would not have been renewed back then. It just bothered her that Sandburg had quit before she could fire his ass.
She flipped the newspaper over and continued reading, "Dr. Sandburg has spent several years living among the Chopec, a reclusive tribe which does not readily welcome outsiders."
Outsiders, yeah right. Without James Ellison, he would have been slaughtered in the jungle by that reclusive tribe. Edwards sighed. Now there was a mental image she could savor for a moment. She closed her eyes and sighed, relishing the image of Sandburg being torn apart by those primitives. She opened her eyes as reality returned and the image of being forced to welcome Sandburg on Friday wiped away the pleasant image of him dying painfully in the jungle, being torn limb from limb.
Blair Sandburg had been nothing but trouble since the day she had met him. He was already a big shot on campus when she had arrived as a professor. The child prodigy, starting college when he was sixteen. Eli Stoddard's special student, a position her little sister, Janet, had earned, but had been given away to that curly haired, short, stubby legged, moppet. Her position on campus should have ensured her sister's place with Stoddard, but he wouldn't hear of it, not once Eli had met Blair Sandburg.
No matter how hard Janet had worked, Sandburg had always done better, scored higher, and got the grants and everything handed to him on a silver platter. Everything came easy for him. It had finally driven her sister to a suicide attempt in her sophomore year.
Chancellor Edwards slammed her fist onto the desk as the memories continued to rush by. She rose from her desk and looked out the window at Hargrove Hall.
No matter how badly Sandburg had screwed up, he always came up smelling like a rose. When she had become Chancellor, she made it her mission to get Sandburg to leave Rainier. She thought she had him over that Ventriss affair. Brad Ventriss' father had enough pull to get the university to ditch Sandburg if he had pursued the charges against Brad. Then, Detective Ellison had gotten involved and that ended that opportunity. With the Ventriss family heading for prison, Sandburg didn't have to pursue the charges against Brad Ventriss.
Then, there was that whole dissertation disaster. First, she had been forced to suck up to the little twerp when that publisher sent part of his dissertation to the papers, and word spread about a possible Nobel Prize nomination.
The moment she had been waiting for all those years, the ultimate joy of kicking him off campus after that press conference when he denounced his own dissertation. Finally, the ultimate humiliation, having to take Sandburg back and give him his Ph.D. after Sandburg's lawyer stuck his nose into the situation.
A knock at her door drew her attention from the article. Her assistant poked her head in the door and said, "There's a man out here insisting that he needs to see you. He won't take no for an answer."
"Did you get his name?"
Her assistant slid into the room, closing the door behind her. "He didn't give his name, but I know who he is. I've seen his picture in the papers. It's Alfonse Bertelli, but he won't tell me what..."
Turning from the window, Edwards straightened her jacket. "Show him in. You don't ever keep Alfonse Bertelli waiting."
The assistant nodded nervously and closed the door behind her. A few seconds later, the door opened again and Alfonse stepped into the room. She moved across the room offering her hand.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Bertelli?" She simpered at her visitor.
"I see I don't have to introduce myself. I'm well aware of who you are as well, Chancellor Edwards. I believe we have a mutual enemy," Bertelli replied. "He goes by the name of Dr. Blair Sandburg."
Edwards's eyes narrowed at the name. "I must admit, I'm not particularly fond of that young man. I hadn't realized you knew Mr. Sandburg."
"He and his friends have been a thorn in my side for quite a while. I believe I have a solution to the Sandburg problem, but I need your assistance in arranging some of the details. May I count on your support?"
"A final solution? The little twerp is slippery. He always seems to manage to slide out of harm's way," Edwards muttered.
Alfonse nodded his head and smiled. "I believe I have the answer. I've placed some of my best men on the problem."
Rubbing her hands together with glee, Edwards replied, "You may depend on me. Why don't we sit down and you can explain what is required? May I have my assistant get you something to drink?"
Alfonse moved around the desk to sit in the Chancellor's overstuffed leather chair, assuming complete control of the office. "A cup of tea would do nicely," he replied as he leaned back in the chair.
Her face flushed, Chancellor Edwards poked her head outside the door and called for her assistant to bring the refreshments. Waiting until she regained control of her anger, she turned with a sickly sweet smile on her face and asked, "So, just what do you need me to do?"
Jim stopped the truck as the light turned yellow. Blair checked his watch and moaned.
"Oh man, we aren't going to make it, and I'm the keynote speaker. I told you we should have left earlier."
Jim rolled his eyes as he stared at the red light. "We'll make it, Chief. Quit worrying so much. Besides, Henri appreciated the company."
"I know. I'm glad that he's out of intensive care. It's a shame that he's gonna be out of action for the next few months, but he's handling it well. I wish we could have stayed longer, but I've got a commitment to Washington University. They've been pretty good about the fact that I still haven't even stepped foot on campus yet. All they want is for me to do this symposium and finish those two articles and I'm free for another semester."
Jim stepped on the accelerator as the light turned green. "I know all that and I respect the position you're in, but something about this doesn't feel right to me."
"With Washington University?" Blair asked, squinting his eyes to block the glare coming from the oncoming car.
Jim shook his head as he made the turn onto University Street. "No, not that, it's this symposium. Don't these instructions seem a little strange to you? Why do we have to park in the back lot behind the auditorium and come in the back entrance? It just feels wrong."
Blair laughed. "Jim, remember, this is Chancellor Edwards we're talking about. She has always hated me and I'm sure she'd rather that I was not participating tonight. She's just trying to keep me off balance, probably hoping I'll screw up and justify her bad opinion of me. Besides, all the speakers are parking back here. They don't want the students asking a bunch of questions before the panels get started."
"I guess you're right," Jim replied, as his index finger tapped the steering wheel. "Maybe I'm overreacting."
Chuckling through the words, Blair replied, "You?... overreact?... never!"
Jim turned right into the lecture hall parking area entrance. "Look, we're here with four minutes to spare. I told you we'd be on time."
He turned left and pulled into the small parking lot at the rear of the auditorium. Two of the pole lights were not working. There was a small overhead light in front of the door to the backstage area of the building. "And look Sandburg, none of the other speakers are even here yet." There were no other cars in the lot."
"I guess," Blair said slowly. He looked around at all the empty space, a lump beginning to form in his stomach. Academics loved to gather early, and compare how smart they were with their peers. There should have been a dozen cars in the lot by now. "You know that feeling you had, that something's not right? I think I'm getting the same feeling."
Jim parked the car and turned off the engine, before turning to face his partner. Seeing the look of concern in his friend's face, he said, "Watch yourself, Sandburg. Let's get inside and see if we can figure out what the problem is."
Just as Jim spoke, the back door opened and Chancellor Edwards stepped outside. The sneer on her face was illuminated from the hallway light.
"Man, she hasn't changed a bit. Still looks like she's smelling something disgusting all the time," Blair said as he opened the car door.
Nodding his head as he scanned the area, Jim stepped out of the car. His attention was drawn to the dark side of the lot, opposite the auditorium. There weren't any of the natural sounds he expected from a wooded area. Something out there didn't belong and had frightened off the birds in the area.
He hadn't noticed that Blair was moving steadily away from the truck toward Chancellor Edwards. He focused his hearing and his eyesight, scanning the area for potential problems. Too late, he heard the sound of a round being chambered and then the cracking of multiple shots being fired.
"Sandburg, GET DOWN!" he called as he dived behind the front of the truck. He pulled his weapon, searching for the shooter, but it was already too late, in more ways than one.
He heard the sounds of footsteps retreating from the far-left corner of the parking lot, but the coppery smell of blood drew his attention to the building behind him.
Blair was lying on the ground halfway between the truck and the building, a large red stain growing through the jacket he was wearing.
"Sandburg!" Jim yelled as he raced toward his fallen partner. Only hearing the quickening beat of Blair's heart kept him from total panic.
"Blair? Can you hear me?" Jim asked as he examined the bullet wound in Blair's back.
There was no response.
"Hang on, Blair, just hang on," Jim begged as he flipped open his cell phone and dialed 911. As soon as he had shouted at the operator to send an ambulance, he dropped the phone next to him on the ground and pulled off his jacket.
Pressing his jacket against the wound, Jim struggled to keep the blood from flowing onto the cold hard ground, struggled to keep Blair alive.
"Hang on, Buddy. Help is on the way," Jim whispered. "Please, let help be on the way."
Jim used his senses to scan the area. There was no sign of the shooter. The guy disappeared into the night. That was when he noticed Chancellor Edwards was also on the ground in front of the entrance to the building. He couldn't hear her heartbeat, not that he believed she had a heart, but she hadn't deserved this.
He focused his hearing on Blair again, as the faltering beats echoed and the blood continued to seep out from the bullet wounds.
Antonio knocked on the office door.
There was a long pause before Bertelli's voice called, "Enter!"
Antonio opened the door and crossed the room to stand in front of his boss. He didn't exactly have good news, and he wasn't looking forward to this discussion.
Bertelli stared at him asking, "So, have we removed one of the thorns from our side?"
"It wasn't a total successful effort. Mr. Sandburg was taken to Cascade General. However, I understand the prognosis is not favorable."
Bertelli slammed his fist onto his desk. "What the hell went wrong?"
"It appears that Ellison spotted our man just as he fired. We did succeed with the Chancellor. She will not be available to discuss the seminar arrangements with anyone."
"It's about time something went right."
The silence in the room remained for a moment.
"Do you have any further instructions for me, Sir."
"Station someone at the hospital. I want to know the minute Sandburg dies. Then, we'll get Ellison and end this once and for all," Bertelli ordered.
Antonio nodded. "I'll get on it immediately, Sir."
William Ellison looked through the window into the critical care unit.
The only sound in the room was that of the soft beeping of the heart monitor. How could things have gone this badly? It was a damn academic conference. He hadn't realized he had made any noise, but obviously he had since his son turned and faced him.
William gestured for Jim to join him in the hallway. His son looked terrible. Between the dark circles under the eyes and the five o'clock shadow, it was obvious that Jim was not taking care of himself.
"Dad, what are you doing here?"
William pulled his son into a one-armed hug and squeezed hard. "I told you, if anything happened to you or Blair that I'd be back."
Rubbing his red eyes, Jim asked, "What about the kids?"
"Steven was released from the rehabilitation center and has been spoiling them rotten. They probably haven't notice I'm gone yet."
Jim shook his head. "Dad! You left them alone with Steven?"
"Yes, I did. Steve's almost fully recovered now. Besides, they are coming back in the morning; it was the only flight available on short notice for everyone else. There was no way I was staying in Florida. What do the doctors say about Blair?"
"Only that it's too soon to tell if he's going to be alright. They're giving him fifty-fifty odds of even waking up." Jim's voice cracked on the last few words.
William shook his head. "Those doctors obviously don't know much about Blair. There's no way he's going to let this keep him down."
"It's really bad, Dad. Even if he wakes up, he might have suffered brain damage. He lost so much blood. There was nothing I could do," Jim's voice again cracked.
Hearing the anguish in his son's voice, Bill reached over and pulled his son against him. "We'll get through this."
Simon exited the elevator and looked for Jim. He was surprised to see William Ellison sitting in the waiting room.
Hurrying down the hallway, Simon took a seat next to Bill. "Hi, Bill. It's really a sad way to come home, but welcome back. How's Blair doing?"
"No change really. They're letting Jim sit with him for a few minutes every hour or so," Bill answered quietly.
"And Jim?"
"I've never seen him like this. He seems so defeated... numb... I haven't been able to reach him. I'm as worried about my son as I am about Blair." Bill rubbed his eyes, it had been a long trip from Florida. "By the way, thanks for calling me, Simon."
"I wasn't having much luck reaching Jim either. That's why I called you last night. I figured you might have better luck than I've had. Has he slept at all, eaten?"
Leaning back in the chair, William shook his head. "Not since I've been here. Another discussion I've had no luck with him on. He won't leave."
"I'm here because I've got some news for him, but I don't want to tell him here. He's better off hearing it in private. Are you okay staying here with Blair? I know you've got to be tired from all that traveling. "
Waving his hand in the air, Bill dismissed the question. "I'm fine. Steven will be here with the kids in the morning. I'll rest then. What's the news?"
"It seems Bertelli and one of his henchman paid a visit to Chancellor Edwards a few days before the seminar. The secretary implied that the two of them had probably set Blair up for the hit."
"That woman got what she deserved. I've never forgiven her from what she did to Blair and my son."
"Ready for a double team on your son? I think between the two of us, we'll force him to get some rest."
"We'll know soon. I guess his few minutes are up?" Bill replied gesturing at the CCU window. Both men watched as Jim rose from the chair, and leaned over the bed. After moving some errant strands of hair of Blair's face, Jim turned and headed for the door.
Jim had all his senses focused on Blair and almost ran into Simon before acknowledging his presence.
"Hello, Simon. When did you get here?"
"Just a few minutes ago. I figured you need to get out of here for a while. When was the last time you had something to eat?"
"Don't start with me, Simon. I've already got one father here mothering me. I don't need anyone else doing it. I'm not leaving him right now. He needs me."
"Take a break, Jimmy. I'll stay with Blair for a while," William volunteered.
"Didn't you hear me? No, Dad. I'm not going anywhere!" Jim folded his arms across his chest and tried to stare his father down.
"Don't give me that look, son. It didn't work when you were a child, and it's not working now." William stared at his son, meeting his eyes, daring him to contradict his order.
"Fine," Jim muttered, heading for the elevator without looking back.
"I'm impressed, William. I haven't been able to get him to leave in the last two days," Simon said before catching up with Jim.
Realizing that the down light wasn't lit yet, Simon pushed the button for the elevator. Jim was really out of it.
Just as the doors opened, Jim turned back to call to his father.
"You'll call me if there's any change, right?"
William raised his right hand. "I promise. You'll be the first one I call, Jimmy."
"I'll hold you to that," Jim yelled back as the elevator doors closed.
"Do I have to ask what you want to eat, Jim?" Simon wasn't surprised when he received no reply.
"Jim?"
Shaking his head as he continued to stare blankly out the side window, Jim mumbled, "Whatever."
Pulling up to the Chinese restaurant he knew the guys frequented, Simon brought the car to a halt, but made no move to exit the car.
"Do you want to eat here or head to the loft?"
"I'm not really hungry right now," Jim replied, tonelessly.
"You've got to eat something, Ellison. I'm not going to sit here and watch you self-destruct."
When Jim glared back at him, Simon continued, "Besides, I've got some news for you, but I'm not saying a word until you've gotten something to eat."
Jim's eyes narrowed. His jaw clenched, he muttered, "That's blackmail, Sir."
Simon reached for a cigar from his jacket pocket. Lighting it, he replied, "Why, yes. I do believe it is. So... what are you going to do about it?"
Jim sat quietly for a moment. Considering his alternatives carefully, he reached for the door handle, "I guess I'm going to eat something."
The waitress dropped the check off with several fortune cookies, eyeing Jim closely before moving on to the next table.
"So, Simon. Now that I've eaten, what's your news?"
Simon picked up his tea, taking a sip before speaking. "Rafe and Daryl have been investigating the attempt on Blair. They've found out some interesting information, but I'm not sure I want to talk about it here."
Jim waited for Simon to continue.
"You're not going to like what we've uncovered. I'm torn between telling you in public so you can't go ballistic on me or worried that you will fly off the handle in public and someone might get hurt."
Frowning, Jim replied, "I am capable of controlling myself."
"Not when it comes to your family getting hurt, Ellison. You have a tendency to go primal."
Staring at the ceiling, until he could speak calmly, Jim replied, "I'm too tired to do anything right now. Just tell me what's going on."
"As I said, Rafe and Daryl have been investigating the hit on Blair. At first we just thought it was a coincidence that the sniper targeted Blair at the University. I mean that seminar of his was pretty well publicized. But, it seems that Chancellor Edwards had an interesting meeting last week... With Bertelli."
"What!"
"Yeah, it seems that even though the seminar was arranged by Washington State, Chancellor Edwards was making all the arrangements for the speakers. It seems that they were in on this together."
"Bertelli arranged this?" Jim said, struggling to get the words out.
"Yeah, the sniper obviously didn't want to leave any loose ends. The shot that killed Chancellor Edwards was deliberate, one shot center mass." Simon waited for Jim's reaction.
"I guess Edwards got exactly what she deserved if she set us up and as for Bertelli, I will get that son of a bitch. If it's the last thing I do, I will kill him with my own bare hands." Jim's voice had been no louder than a whisper, but Simon heard every word.
Jim closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead. "Simon, would you just take me home. I'm beat and I can't think about this right now."
Simon raised one eyebrow, but picked up the check and headed for the cash register. That had gone better than he had thought. Actually, it had gone too well. He glanced but at the table, but Jim hadn't moved. His expression hadn't changed.
He handed his credit card over to the cashier. After he dropped Jim off at the house, he'd head back to the hospital... Keep William company for a while was his next mission.
Jim waved as Simon pulled out of the driveway. So far, so good. Simon had believed that he was too tired to do anything about Bertelli right now. But, after a quick nap and shower, the time had come to bring the fight directly to Bertelli's door. No more assassins, a direct confrontation was the only choice left to them.
First, a few hours sleep, then Jim was going to end this.
It was dark outside. He needed to get to the conference, Blair thought as he opened his eyes.
What... florescent lights... what had happened?
"Blair, can you hear me?"
That's a familiar voice. Not, Jim's but that same familiar commanding voice.
"You're going to be okay, Blair. Just don't try to move. Let me call the doctor," Simon ordered as he reached for the call button.
Why shouldn't I move? Blair thought as he started to move his arm. Overwhelming pain rushed over him and he almost passed out. Ohhhh, that's why.
"Blair, still with me? Just take it easy."
"Whaat..." Blair managed to croak out.
"You're in the hospital. You've been shot."
No kidding, feels like more than once, but he felt the need to confirm it, "Agaaain?" he managed to say a little clearer.
"Yes, again. Seems to be a habit with you." Simon paused for a moment, hearing the doctor entering the room behind him. "Blair, the doctor's here. I need to step outside for a minute. But I won't be far."
"Jiimm?"
"He's fine. Wasn't hurt, but we finally managed to get him out of here. You've been out of it for a while, but I'll get him here. Just listen to your doctor here. Let him take a look at you."
Simon closed the door behind him as he left the room. Smiling broadly, he entered the waiting room with good news for once.
William Ellison was stretched out across the couch, sleeping soundly. Simon paused for a moment, but William had promised to call Jim if there was any change.
Shaking William's shoulder gently, he allowed the man to wake up.
"What's wrong," Bill asked, opening his eyes.
"Nothing, actually, the opposite. Blair's awake."
"Awake... Is he... I mean." William struggled to find a way to ask the question.
"Well, with his second word, he cracked a joke, so I'd say our worries about permanent damage was a waste of time."
William Ellison ran his hand through his gray hair. "I need to call Jim. He'd want to be here."
"Call him. He should be awake by now. I want to see what the doctor has to say."
Simon watched as William headed to the pay phones. Hearing voices behind him, he turned as the doctor exited Blair's room.
"How's he doing, Doctor?"
"He's in a lot of pain. He's not out of the woods yet, but I suspect he'll make a full recovery."
"Can I go back in?"
The doctor shook his head. "I wouldn't recommend it. With the exam we just gave him, we've had to give him some additional pain killers. He'll be out for the next hour or so."
"Thank you," Simon replied, shaking hands with the doctor.
As the doctor walked away, William Ellison turned the corner and came back toward him.
"I can't reach Jim. He's not at the house, and he's not answering the cell phone."
"Damnit! I never should have left him alone," Simon said angrily.
"I need to stay here. Steven is meeting me here with the kids. I can't leave."
"No, I'll go. I'll call the nurses station once I find out what's going on."
It had taken him most of the night, but he had finally found where Bertelli was staying. Jim watched from the car as Bertelli slept in his bed.
There were only a couple of guards. They were half-asleep themselves. With Jim's skills, they would be easy to slip past. The sun was going to be rising soon. That would be the perfect time to enter the building.
Then this would all be over.
Blair opened his eyes, and stared at the ceiling. Oh, yeah. He was in the hospital.
"How are you feeling, son?" Bill asked, leaning over the bed.
Blair winced as he mentally tried to assess how he was feeling. As long as he didn't try to move, the pain killers were definitely working.
"Okay, as long as I don't move."
"You don't have anywhere to be so just take it easy."
Blair carefully, looked around the room, as far as he could see without sitting up.
"Where's Jim?" he asked.
"That's a long story Blair," William replied. Not wanting to explain.
"You're the one who said I've got nowhere to go," Blair replied, his voice a little stronger,
Getting this far had been easy. The guards hadn't been paying attention to what was going on inside the apartment building.
A convenient basement window had gotten him into the building. Now, the only thing left was to grab Bertelli.
Slipping inside the darkened bedroom. Jim silently stalked his prey. Bertelli was still snoring away.
Too easy.
Pulling the man from his bed, Jim slammed his fist into Bertelli's jaw, knocking him cold. Pulling the unconscious man over his shoulder, Jim headed for the elevator. This was ending tonight, Bertelli wasn't going to hurt anyone else, ever again.
Blair couldn't believe his eyes. How could they have left Jim alone? "Bill, you've got to help me," Blair said as he struggled to sit up on the bed.
William jumped out of his chair, moving to the side of the bed. "Blair, stop! You're gonna hurt yourself if you don't relax. You heard what the doctor said..."
"I don't care what the doctor thinks; he doesn't understand the situation here. Jim's gone over the edge. I'm the only one who can get through to him now." As he was speaking, Blair attempted to free his legs from the tangled blankets, but the pain and his own physical weakness prevented him from doing even that much.
Using both hands, William grabbed him by the shoulders, preventing Blair from moving again.
"Blair, how are you going to stop Jim? You can't even get out of bed." William wasn't sure what else he could do, or say. There was no way that Blair was strong enough to leave the hospital, yet Blair was right. He was the only one with a chance of stopping Jim from destroying himself.
A voice from the doorway said, "What's going on in here?"
"Wakey, Wakey, Bertelli. I want you to see what happens next," Jim growled, slapping Bertelli several times across the face.
Bertelli came awake all at once. "What! What the hell is going on?"
"Remember me? You've tried to hurt my family for the last time," Jim snarled as he stood up. "Get up. I want this city that you tried to destroy to be the last thing you see."
Pounding on the door behind them drew Bertelli's attention away from the angry man in front of him. "My men will be through that door and you're a dead man, Ellison."
"Not going to happen, Bertelli. Nothing's getting through that door."
It's good to see you awake, Blair. I had imagined the worst," Steven said entering the room with Simon right behind him. "What's my big brother up to now?"
"He's been spotted entering Bertelli's penthouse. Joel and some of those ATF team have had it under surveillance."
"Why didn't they stop him?" William asked.
"Jim's good, they only just spotted him entering the building. When Joel tried to approach, he drew the wrong attention. ATF and Joel are in a standoff with Bertelli's men. So far, no progress."
Blair lay quietly on the bed. There was no way he was able to sit up much less stand up. "Where are the kids?" Blair asked.
Everyone in the room looked puzzled for a moment, before reaching the same conclusion that Blair obviously had. Who besides Blair could reach Jim in this state?
"It's just you and me now, Bertelli," Jim growled, ignoring everything else going on around them."
Bertelli sneered in reply. "What do you think you're gonna do? Arrest me? My lawyer will have me out of there before the ink is dry on the fingerprint."
"Nah. I'm not a cop. I have my own ideas about how justice should be served in this situation," Jim replied as he advanced towards the arrogant man who had made the few weeks a living hell. His eyes meet Bertelli's and without blinking Jim stared back.
Bertelli retreated a few steps towards the edge of the roof. He was not accustomed to being challenged. It was clear from his opponent's icy glare that he was losing control of the situation. "Be reasonable, Ellison. I still have friends in high places. A single word from me and they'll make you and your friends wish they had never messed with my operations."
"What makes you think you'll ever say another word... to anyone... ever... again." Advancing one final step, Jim laughed derisively as Bertelli recoiled.
Now that he was within reach of Bertelli, Jim grabbed him by the lapels and lifted him a few inches into the air. "I've had enough of you, your organization and your assassins. This ends, now," Jim said as he tossed Bertelli back against the ledge of the roof.
"You can't do this!"
"Watch me. No one's gonna care if you die right now." Jim sneered as he lifted Bertelli over the ledge.
"You can't do this. You'll never get off this roof without me. My men will kill you unless I stop them!" Bertelli screamed, struggled to grab something, anything that would keep him from falling five stories to the ground.
"I... don't... care," Jim said slowly.
William turned the corner as he headed for the Bertelli head quarters, watching Steven and the children in the backseat through the rear view mirror.
"Take it easy, Dad," Steven groaned.
"Sorry, son, but we don't have a lot of time here," William said as ran the red light, ignoring the blaring of horns coming behind him.
"We need to get there in one piece or we won't be able to help anyone, including ourselves," Steven replied.
"I'm being as careful as I can, Steven. But we have to stop Jimmy. You heard me. I promised Blair we 'd get there before he did something really stupid."
The occupants in the back seat were thrown to the right as William served around a delivery truck and made the last turn onto Bertelli's street. He slammed on the brakes and pulled into a parking space directly in front of Bertelli's apartment building.
Joel and the ATF had already cleared the building. Police vans were parked in front as the last few members of Bertelli's organization were put away.
Hearing a scream, he looked up to see someone hanging off the side of the building.
Steven climbed out of the backseat, Gracie in his arms. Looking up he muttered, "Oh God, we're too late." Jake climbed out of the car and stood next to Steven and his sister.
Steven knelt down next to Jake. "Okay, guys. Remember what we talked about. Call for Daddy," Steven said encouragingly.
"On three. One -- Two -- Three..." On three, both Jake and Gracie yelled, "DADDY!"
All attention focused on Bertelli, Jim wasn't aware of anything going on around him. Not until two tiny voices echoed in his head.
"Daddy!"
Looking over the ledge, he saw his family. His younger brother holding his children, looking up at him.
His fists clenched tighter in Bertelli's lapels. He wanted to do it. He wanted to make sure this ended. Why would they bring his children here? "Get them out of here, Steven. What the hell are you thinking?"
William answered, quietly, knowing that Jim would hear what no one else would. "No, Jimmy, you don't want to do this. You don't want to leave these kids orphaned, Jimmy. That's what will happen you know. This is premeditated murder. You used to be a cop. You know what will happen if you go to prison. Don't do this."
Jim tilted his head, closing his eyes, becoming more aware of his surroundings. It was no longer Bertelli's men banging on the door to the roof. It was Joel. He could hear his children crying out for him. Bertelli was still whimpering, but not struggling any longer, realizing the situation had changed.
"Do the right thing, Jimmy. Blair's waiting to hear from you. Come down, call him. You know I'm not lying to you. I'm here because it was the only way to stop Blair from being here."
Jim's hands were shaking with rage. He couldn't let Bertelli walk away from this. All of them would have to live in an armed camp for the rest of their lives. The voices of his children, the image of Blair lying in that hospital bed, decision made, Jim let go of Bertelli.
Joel continued banging on the door. "Larabee, how much longer?"
Chris was burning the hinges of the steel fire door. "Last one, Joel. Just another minute."
Both men were surprised when they heard the sound of the bar being removed from the door, then the door opened.
Both men stood silently, guns aimed at Jim Ellison.
He just stared back at them before saying, "Are you going to shoot an unarmed man?"
"Jim?" Joel asked, looking past Ellison onto the roof.
"Take him down, Joel. Get him out of my sight, or I'll finish what I've started here."
Jim moved out of the way, so that both men could see Bertelli lying on the rooftop, crying like a baby.
"You did the right thing, Jim," Joel said patting him on the back. "You did the right thing."
"Hope so, Joel. I hope I don't regret this."
Jim headed down the stairs and into the street. Walking over to his brother, he pulled his children into his arms. "Welcome home, family. Welcome home."
"Hey Superman," an unfamiliar voice called.
Looking away from his family, Jim noticed a limo parked around the corner. The window rolled down and Bertelli's assistant Antonio waved at him.
"Truce, Mr. Ellison. I am leaving. You will not see me again. Bertelli was a fool and got what he deserved. I will not be doing business in this part of the country again. Your territory is yours again." Antonio gestured at the driver and the limo pulled away.
William also noted the limo. "Problem, Jimmy?" he asked.
"Not any more Dad."
Several weeks later
Blair had just been released from the hospital. All the Ellisons were sharing one house again. Steven had been staying with this father, not willing to be too far away from each other. Joel had brought the ATF unit over for an impromptu welcome home party.
Sandburg watched from the couch as the Major Crime Unit and the ATF's Magnificent Seven unit got to know each other.
"How are you feeling, Chief?" Jim asked sitting down in the chair next to him.
"Pretty good actually. So what are we going to do now?" Blair asked.
"The possibilities are endless, Chief. And we've got plenty of time to decide."
"Rumor has it, you're being courted by the ATF," Blair said knowingly.
"When, now that the covert role we've all been playing the last few weeks is out in the open, the city of Cascade has suggested that it would be a good time for Joel and Simon to 'retire'."
"Damn!"
"We've got options. Seems the ATF is pretty impressed with us. And we're already a working unit. Henri, Rafe and Daryl have already been made offers."
"And?"
Jim smiled back. There was plenty of time to consider the ATF offer. For now, he wanted to sit back and enjoy his family. Enjoy all of his family, both those who were family by blood, and those who were family by choice.
THE END
Author's note: Sorry this took so long. But, I'm back writing again. More stories in the works. I just not sure which way this series is going. The ATF guys are demanding control of this universe. Opinions?