Society Rules (59 page)

Feigning a little extra weakness and confusion, Will looked up at Nick’s face, which was dark with anger and concern. Will reached up and touched a mighty fine fist-sized knot on the side of his head, and grit his teeth.

“What happened?” Will asked again, aware that he was repeating himself. “You don’t remember?” Nick sat him up carefully.

“Well, I guess that’s not surprising, considering the whack you must have taken to the head!” Nick’s anger flared again. “Did you know that woman? She seemed to know you and that other guy pretty well.” Nick suddenly turned his eyes away from Will’s; a look of sickness on his face.

“Your partner, right? That was the guy, Shawn Baker. He
was
your partner?”

“Uh, yeah. Shawn Baker is my partner . . .” Will held his breath. Even knowing what was coming next did not soften the slam to the gut that he felt when Nick spoke the words.

“He, ah . . . was shot too, Will. He . . . he didn’t make it. The guy is DOA.”

The grief swept into him, as if he was hearing for the first time, which was very helpful to the part he was playing, he supposed. Didn’t make it any better, though.

“Jesus, Nick. Tell me what happened. All of it.”

“Well, man, maybe when you are feeling better, you can fill in some blanks for me, but near as I can tell, it was a woman scorned kinda thing, yeah?

“I guess this chick had a thing for your partner, and . . .”

Will cut him off. “Lockhart.” He hissed the name between his teeth.

“Cassandra Lockhart. Yeah. I mean, yes she did have a . . .
thing
for Baker. She was a Fed, too.”

“I’m not surprised.” Nick nodded his head. Sirens were approaching now, and fast. “She seemed to handle the play-dirty cards like a pro. Looks like she ditched her car on purpose, probably knew you two were headed this way somehow, and I guess you saw her first, and stopped.”

“Yeah.”

A story was materializing in Will’s head, flowing like a breeze through his skull. “I’m starting to remember stuff, Nick.” Will spoke weakly, working his role well.

“Me and Shawn had been talking about going to this bike show in Burlington. We were taking separate cars because Baker wanted to hit some sports bar afterwards.

“Lockhart flagged me down. Said she wrecked her car, and then she jumped me. I wasn’t expecting it, so she kind of got the upper hand . . .”

“Well, why in the hell should you have expected a fellow agent to attack you, man?” Nick was furious. Disloyalty was incomprehensible to him.

Nick, in spite of his gentle heart, had a zero-tolerance policy regarding bullshit, and betraying your family, country or friends and partners was a definite sharp turn off the freeway of the acceptable. In fact, those particular offences had their own special parking garage in his heart.

“Baker was behind me in his car,” Will continued, his eyes squeezed shut so that he could better read the script in his brain. “Lockhart was trying to make me drive . . . I think, and then she caught me in the head with something, I’m not sure. Anyhow, next thing I knew, she was driving, and she rammed Baker’s car with my truck.” Nick hissed in his breath in anger.

“I got thrown around pretty good, I guess.” Will tried to move his body to ease his breathing as he said this. “Baker crawled out of the car, and Lockhart just started screaming at him, about how she wasn’t going to take his ‘humiliating’ her any more. She made Baker pull me over next to him, and when I tried to talk some sense into her, that’s when she shot me.”

“Yeah, and that’s when I pulled up.” Nick spoke bitterly. “I
saw
the broad cap you, man.” His eyes were burning black toward the spot where this scene had supposedly taken place.

“I got out and told her to freeze, and she starts firing away like a deranged monster, and clips my gun right outa my hand like a God damned sniper!” “She had me walk forward, and I swear to you Will, I just knew somehow that this chick was gonna finish me.
I
knew
it!”

“It was like a dream. She lifted that weapon of hers, and pulled the damn trigger, cold as can be, and . . . .” Nick swallowed down something, as if his sickness was trying to spill right out of him.

“Your partner. Jesus Christ, Will, the guy yells out, and jumped in front of her, right when she fired. He . . . he saved my life. And I didn’t even know the man!” Nick could not hide the choked up sound working its way out of his throat now.

It was clear that Nick did not think himself worthy of another’s sacrifice. Not by a long shot.

Yeah,
well
you’re
wrong!
thought Will, fiercely.

“Um, yeah, so anyhow,” Nick coughed and cleared his throat before continuing. “The woman clearly hadn’t really planned on hurting this guy . . . uh, I mean Baker, and she pretty much flipped out when she saw what she did. That’s when I noticed that when Baker crawled out of his car, his gun fell out of it’s holster, I guess. I saw it there, on the ground and just grabbed it and fired!”

Nick shook his head once more. “And she took off into the woods.”

Two squad cars and an ambulance pulled to the roadside behind the two men, and skidded to a stop, the drivers all kinds of jacked up, anticipating action of some kind. They were disappointed.

There was definitely nothing to see now.

Will had the wherewithal to note that Indie, Jackson and the kids had simply vanished into thin air, as far as he knew. Yet . . . Will knew they were all okay, somehow.

The old man . . . whoever or whatever he was, he was not here either, at least not in the physical sense that was for sure. Will allowed himself to be scooped up by the EMS team, and raced to the hospital. During the quick ride, while IV’s were started, and bloody bullet wounds were cleaned and pressure dressed, Will had laid quietly, listening to the most amazing voice; wispy and soft, playing through his head.

I
am
truly
sorry
for
the
pain
you
must
bear,
but
there
must
always
be
balance.
You
have
absorbed
the
injuries
inflicted
on
young
Shawn
Baker,
as
well
as
the
very
fine
Captain
Broccato.
They
did
happen,
so
they
had
to
be
accounted
for
to
appease
our
Creator’s
penchant
for
continuity.

You
did
not
suffer
Shawn’s
fatal
wound,
obviously,
because
he
has
born
that
himself.
Captain
Broccato
has
had
his
memories
of
events
altered,
somewhat.

The voice sounded a little remorseful
.

But
yours,
as
you
are
well
aware,
have
been
left
intact.

“Why?” Will breathed softy, as the medications began to take effect.

Your
destiny
has
been
found,
William
Taylor,
and
you
must
fulfill
it.
No
need
to
go
looking,
for
it
will
find
you,
and
it
will
find
you
many
times
over.
You
are
the
Redeemer,
and
they
will
come
through
you.
You
are
the
gateway
 . . .
your
pain
affects
others
profoundly.
You
will
need
your
knowledge
that
you
carry
forth
to
succeed.

“They will come . . . through . . .
me?”
Will was leaving consciousness behind rapidly, and his thoughts were crumbling like ash.

“Redeemer.”
He mumbled on his way out.

Will was taken to the hospital, where he was cleaned up, patched up and taped up, and then forced to be an overnight guest for observation purposes. The bullet was extracted from his shoulder and sent to forensics.

Arguing had gotten him exactly nowhere, and finally Nick, who had decided to play guardian pit-bull for the night, told him that if he didn’t want a lungful of teeth for supper, he needed to shut the hell up.

Will shut up, breaking his forced vow of silence only once more, to again refuse to allow the hospital to try to contact his wife or his mother.

Nick spent the entire evening there, alternating between Will’s bedside, and gazing wistfully at a tiny, pony-tailed nurse sitting behind the glass doors in the ER. In between bouts of pain-medicated slumber, and wakeful stressing, Will had a moment of overwhelming gratitude for the man who’d saved them all, and didn’t even know it.

He wanted him to find the happiness he deserved, and wished he was a genie, able to grant Nick his biggest wish.

Somebody
needs
to
do
it,
if
I
can’t,
he’d thought drowsily, as he began to slip away once more. The unaccustomed drugs in his system worked amazingly well. He was soon out again . . . .

Will snapped it back together, realizing that he’d finished his tale, and was now dwelling in his own memories.

Ben had listened, wide-eyed to the official story, his fingers unconsciously digging into the fabric of the cubicle walls.

“God, Will.” He sounded horrified; “we almost lost you too, man. I didn’t know about Baker saving the cop, though.”

Holy
shit!
How had Will allowed that to happen? Baker died a hero, and everyone had damn well better know about it.

“That’s right, Ben,” Will looked at him gravely. “Shawn Baker died to save another. He knew that he was the reason for Lockhart’s breakdown, and he didn’t want Nick to die for it.”