TITLE: The Truth Enslaved
AUTHOR: Triest Wright
RATING: R, Language, violence, mild sexual content.
CATEGORY: Drama, Gen, AU in that I've brought her back before DS
ended
and I accidentally brought Dewey in before he existed cronoligically,
beyond that nothing contradicts what was written throughout the show.
PAIRINGS: Fraser/Victoria
SPOILERS: VS, if you haven't seen the episode this story will make
ziltch for sense to you, The Deal, JIB, Letting Go.
TEASER: An exploration to a theory that Victoria's motive behind the
events in VS was far deeper, and darker, than revenge.
ARCHIVES: Everywhere when finished
THANKS: To all of my friends and the entire newsgroup who have
provided me with inspiration, guidance, and tireless beta's even if
they had no idea they were helping. Without you guys I never would
have made it.
DISCLAIMER: Victoria, Fraser, Ray, Dief, Ray Kowalski, and other
characters belong to Paul Haggis, Paul Gross, and Alliance productions
along with the original storylines of Victoria's Secret, The Deal, and
Juliet is Bleeding. The rest of the web is mine, or Victoria's
supernatural
character's, whichever came first.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is extremely controversial, but I ask
you
when reading to retain and open mind and reserve judgment until
the
end. I did this for a number of reasons but the first being
to heal
Fraser's heart, he's never been one to speak lightly of things
and when
he said he felt that he had known Victoria "for a thousand
lifetimes",
and that he loved her he meant it; and that love being broken, no matter
what may happen, can never completely heal without mending the break
by
the person to caused it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1)
IF
THESE WALLS COULD SPEAK
March
13, 1996 :::Late Evening:::
Moisture
was beginning to build on the windshield of the Riv where Ray and Fraser
were losing the battle to stay awake on what was proving to be yet another
boring stakeout. Having nothing
to say to one another Fraser's head was beginning to droop and Ray just
couldn't help himself from doodling in the white film of mist.
Ray
suddenly sniffed, and abruptly froze.
"What is that?"
"What
is what, Ray?"
"That
smell."
"I
can't smell anything."
"Oh,
come on! Can't you smell
that?" He sniffed again,
leaning back a
little. His nostrils flared suddenly as a hot
wave of stench burned its way from the back seat deep into his sinuses,
wrenching a dry heave from the very pit of his stomach.
"Diefenbaker!" Fraser scolded as he unrolled his window.
"You know better!"
"Your
dog did this!? Geez, What did
you FEED him?"
"I
didn't. It appears to be a recurring
problem, but I warned him before we left that he had better contain himself..."
The
subject in question answered with a detached whine from his huddled spot
behind Ray's seat.
"This
is gonna permeate the upholstery!"
He'd put up with the hair, the missing doughnuts, the drool, the
whining, but this, this was just too much for any rational man to endure. "He's goin' out!" Ray opened his door with an irritated jerk.
Dief
whined again, pitifully, and lifted a paw in apology; which the Detective
rudely ignored as he popped the trunk and began rooting for that towing
rope he kept for emergencies.
Fraser
had half a mind to follow, never sure just where Ray's temper would land
when it came to matters like this. But before he could act on this protective
instinct, the voices crackling over the radio transmitter caught his
attention.
"...Full
and justifiable retribution will be enacted should my partner be *anything*
but satisfied."
The
pair where actually posted as backup for an FBI entrapment scheme involving
a slippery hitman. The undercover
agent working the deal was obviously reconsidering his employment options
as was evident in the way his voice quavered.
"Oh,
I assure you, he will find no fault.
I work a clean business here."
Then
again the assassin's cool professionalism could have unnerved the most
seasoned of undercover officers...
"Good,
it's final then?"
"Certainly..."
A
thump sounded, followed by a lighter thump, which caused Fraser to unconsciously
look towards the only lit home on the street. The place, if you could turn back time, would have been
the picture of Victorian elegance. But
now it could only be described as dilapidated. The grass in what was once a well manicured lawn, had grown
knee deep before dying during the fall frosts and leaving a less than
pleasing lumpy yellow mess. In
addition the few remaining shutters barely held onto the split, weathered,
warped, and peeling siding. Windows
where broken in various places and the roof sagged at a horrifying angle.
The
whisper of paper floated through the transmitter as one of the voices
sounded again. "The rest
will be delivered after the job's done."
Ray
opened his door at that moment, his forehead knotted in anger as he started
to speak, but the words were lost as a stream of gunshots blasted from
within the building.
Fraser
was out of the car in a matter of seconds, Dief hot on his
heels. Ray, already halfway to the front door,
yelled over his shoulder: "There's
one in the back!" Ben noticed
the rapid movement just out of the corner of his eye and immediately
set pursuit.
With
well-trained ease, Vecchio held his weapon at low ready as he cautiously
approached the main entrance of the mansion. The front door lay slightly ajar and he tentatively kicked
it, eyes sensitive to the slightest movement ahead of him. He continued
towards the voices he could just make out in a back room and with a sudden
offensive movement turned into the doorway. The agent lay still in the middle of the room, regaining
his breath after the impact of bullet to vest. Near him lay another man lay cuffed and on his stomach. On top of this the room was a full
of Feds, every shape and sort. However
all parties involved were far too absorbed with the task at hand to notice
Ray. He could have emptied a clip
into them, right then, without a hint of difficulty. "Geez, you guys couldn't find your way out of a wet
paper bag with both hands and a roadmap." He shook his head with a silent laugh as he found his way
to the backyard.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The
suspect appeared quite agile on his feet, but after a minute or so, Fraser
had successfully predicted his pattern, and with a quick detour he had
him in custody. The two returned
to the hideout where a proper arrest was made. The young man was handed over, complete with Fraser's observations
on his involvement and he and Vecchio moved aside.
The
Feds, as always, took over; but being ever ready for a chance to irritate
their counterparts they wouldn't let Ben or Ray leave. Which, having nothing to busy their minds with, was no small
form of torture. The atmosphere
was always tense in situations like this, but the house itself seemed
to add to it that night. Beyond
the aesthetic discomfort, it was something intangible...a feeling.
Ray
shivered, involuntarily. "I don't know about you Benny, but this
place gives me the creeps."
"It
does seem to contain a certain negative aura. You know, Ray, the Hindu believe buildings take in the day
to day happenings within their walls, whether the karma be good or evil. Many of them hire professional priests
to banish the atmosphere should it be unfavorable."
"Yeah. Well whatever it is, I don't like it."
Quite
unexpectedly, a noise, faint, eerie, and extremely unnatural,
penetrated
the boredom of Fraser's mind and traveled down his spine with a shiver. "Ray did you hear that?" He asked quickly.
"Hear
what?"
He
held out his hand for quiet as he honed his senses in on the noise. With a careful step, he moved in the
direction it seemed to be coming from, towards the kitchen -- or what
was left of it, seeing as the water damage in this quarter of the house
was severe.
*The
Pantry*, Fraser thought, moving forward but stopping, perplexed, as he
realized it had been too faint to be coming from directly inside. He
started for the yard when the sound hit the air again, a piercing wail
that stopped Ray in his tracks and made Dief whine and cover his ears
with his paws.
It
was alive...that much was for sure. But
its origin remained a mystery, until Ben realized the likeliness of a
root cellar. He remained quiet
as he tiptoed to the pantry, rooting in the utility pouch of his Sam
Browne for his mini mag flashlight. Using
it to light his way, he stepped into the small room.
Ray
considered following, but hesitated as the smell radiated from within. There was something strange about it,
and he un-surely hovered in the doorway.
Besides he would only be in the way. Yeah, that was it, only in the way...
The
Mountie frowned as he continued forward. Beyond the mold, moss, mice
and various other scourges of
old buildings, was another smell -- dead, yet tangy in its stage of rot. As he scanned the floor with the thin
beam of the flashlight, it reflected off something metal and he dropped
to his knees to inspect what appeared to be a simple, rectangular stainless
steel door. Brand new as it was,
it stood out from its surroundings of rotting wood and dirt. Using a handkerchief to prevent marring any prospective
prints, he tried to lift the door; succeeding only in jostling it as
it was much heavier than he'd suspected.
But the disturbance, though slight, sent whatever was trapped
inside into a fit of pitiful screams.
They where human and the realization made him shiver, as a knot
of fear clutched about his stomach.
Fraser
quickly steeled himself against the growing sense of panic, and strained
to open the door. The terrifying
screeches didn't stop and were beginning to attract attention from the
rest of the house, but he hardly noticed this as the door gave way and
an intoxicating smell assaulted his senses. It seemed to be a mixture of death, excrement, dirt, and
damp that stewed within itself, making the air heavy and thick.
Ray
had made a promise to himself that he'd stick with his friend through
this little exploit, but as the smell from whatever was in that hole
invaded his nostrils it sent him running for fresh air and control over
his stomach.
Fraser
cautiously peered into the opening where a flimsy-at-best set of stairs
led to a dirt floor. Swinging
the narrow beam outward he found the source of the disturbance huddled
in a corner, so emaciated and grimy he could barely make out its human
likeness.
"Someone
call for an ambulance!" he called to the next room as he quickly
shed his belt and tunic. Then
using the floor for leverage, he swung himself down so as not to collapse
the stairs, and shifted his light around with the utmost care to illuminate
the frightened wretch. It flinched,
as though it had been struck, and quieted to a sporadic whimper. The
almost cartoon-like form of humanity took Fraser aback. It sat, hugging its knees, in a fetal position with it's
back turned partially to the side to cover its nakedness. Discolored and misshapen by the bruises, cuts, and filth,
the face that turned toward him was dominated by eyes that held a fixed
expression of pain and terror Ben knew would haunt his dreams for many
nights to come.
Forgetting
his own discomfort, the Mountie crouched down onto his knees.
"It's
okay, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you -- not going to hurt you,"
he cooed softly, gently, as he put the flashlight in his mouth and stuck
his hands out, gesturing that he was unarmed. "What happened hmm?
What happened?"
The
figure stopped digging at the wall and curled its hands in towards its
chest.
"I'm
going to help you now, just relax.."
He
moved forward a bit more and could see that it was a woman.
"There
now, we're going to get you all cleaned up..."
He
stopped his advance within five feet, continuing to speak in the same
reassuring tone. "No one's going to hurt you anymore, your safe
now...everything's going to be okay."
She
began crying in earnest with hoarse sobs that seemed to play over his
heart like tiny daggers.
"You
can trust me...look at me?"
She
didn't respond, and he moved a little closer.
"Please,
look into my eyes, tell me if I'm going to hurt you."
He
turned the flashlight so it wouldn't blind her and almost defiantly,
she met his gaze. Bitter and piercing
as they were, he found something oddly familiar about them. As she searched his face, he watched the tension melt from
her body, and she shifted around to look at him more comfortably. "Yes, you see? I'm here to help you. There. now, just let me help
you..."
He
was now about two feet from her and extended his hand. She cried out
a little; almost in defeat, and reached for it. Offering a tiny defeated whimper and a shiver passed through
her frail figure before she reached for it, her skeleton-like fingers
grasping his with a surprising strength.
He returned the gesture with a reassuring squeeze and a smile. Then she leaned on him, her hands clinging
to his shirt as she nuzzled closely against his chest, and he realized
that her body temperature was dangerously low. Ben carefully slid his arms around her and began talking
about nothing. Noticing as he
spoke that someone had chopped off her hair with no regard for style,
her stomach had begun to distend, an obvious sign of starvation and malnutrition,
and below the grime that caked her skin he could make out deep infected
bedsores or gashes of some sort, particularly on the ankles. Still whatever the rage these horrors ignited within him,
he kept it masked as he continued to speak in a comforting tone, she
shivered, and they waited for help.
2: VOICES TRAPPED IN YEARNING
March
16 :::Midday:::
"So
he's running for it, right? And
he's, like, three feet away when he decides to back off for the center
fielder who's gotta be a good 20 feet away! It bounces, and there goes
the game, 'n half my paycheck!" Ray paused, poking idly at his plate. "Benny?"
The
two men were catching up over lunch at the new diner across from the
precinct, but Ray seemed to be doing most of the catching up. Fraser had been somewhere in never-never land since he showed
up.
"Hey! Earth to Fraser!"
Ben
blinked as his mind shifted back to the present. "Hmm, what? What
did you say?"
"Man,
what's the matter with you? You've
been zoning out on me all
morning."
"I'm
sorry Ray. I guess." He ran a thumbnail over his eyebrow
as his thoughts shifted back into place.
"I guess I've just been having some difficulty sleeping."
"The
Jane Doe?"
"Something
like that."
"Yeah,
that's been buggin' me, too. You
know, after we insisted that it *was* in the Chicago jurisdiction, the
FBI still moved it to the 9th precinct?
I swear Ford would rather cut off his last hind leg then give
us something we want."
"I
was not aware of that."
"Pisses
me off with all the media coverage. For
all you'd know, the FBI found her and is handling the case completely
on their own."
The
woman had been beaten so badly that visual identification was virtually
impossible. That and she'd flat
out refused to speak to anyone. The
police were still waiting on the finger print analysis but the media
wasn't, they'd already made her into a tragic celebrity of sorts, launching
their own search as to her identity.
"Considering what they where trying to accomplish, I don't
think the means of her discovery was much of an issue."
There
was a tense silence, as Ray ate and Fraser continued to stare off into
space. "Hey, you gonna eat
that or not?"
"Oh. No, Ray. I guess I'm not really hungry."
The
Italian squinted as he stared into his friend's eyes. "Is there
something
you're keepin' from me?"
"No,
nothing essential."
"You're
onto something. Come on, don't
lie da me."
Fraser
closed his eyes as his mind wandered three nights back when the paramedics
slipped the unknown woman into a waiting ambulance. There had something
in her manner, something in her eyes...
Ben
sighed and returned his gaze to Ray.
"If you must know, I can't seem to get past this -- this
feeling that I know her."
Ray
laughed. "I think everyone's
feeling that way."
"No,
it's more than that." Ben insisted, knowing there was more than
the media frenzy behind his anxiety.
"You see, when I was with her, she was terrified at first. It took me a minute to calm her, and
then she looked at me -- I can't describe just what it was in her eyes,
but I knew I'd seen her, somewhere, before. However, that didn't strike me as odd as the way she seemed
to have the same reaction. It
was as though she knew me, and in that instant, trusted me without question. Considering her circumstances, it is
hard to believe that she would be emotionally capable of trusting anyone.
"Yeah,
but you're a Mountie. People trust
Mounties."
"Not
all people, Ray."
"Yeah
I see your point." He paused
for a moment. "Hey, you know it's been a few days, the swelling
might have gone down a bit. Why
don't you go see her?" He
didn't need an answer to that, the look on his friend's face spoke plenty. "Have you had your head checked
lately? Whatcha got to be scared of?
And since when did fear stop *you* from doing anything?"
Ben
couldn't begin to explain what was going on inside him. His heart froze at the idea of seeing
the woman again--and it didn't make sense. There was no logical reason for him to fear her, but his
instincts screamed otherwise. Still, Ray was right, he was only delaying
the inevitable. "I'll go
this evening after work. If memory
serves, visiting hours are between 10 a.m. and 6 p.m., correct?"
"Hey,
don't expect me to remember stuff like that. You need a lift?"
"No,
thank you. I think I'll walk. A little fresh air will do me some
good." He glanced up as the waitress came to check on them. "Could
I get this to go?"
"Sure."
"Thank
you kindly."
"I'll
keep you updated if anything filters back from the 9th. You'll probably have more luck with
the news though." The waitress
handed Ray the bill. "But
take care of yourself Benny. This
case has got 'ugly' written all over it."
"That'll
be $12.37, including tax."
"Twelve
what? For two burgers and a coke?"
He yelled.
"I'm
sorry, Sir, but the prices are listed on the menu --."
"Yeah,
yeah, yeah, whatever." Ray
fished in his pockets for the exact
change
as he grumbled incoherently.
"Thank
you, and come again." The
young girl sounded like an automatic voice message as she winked at Fraser
who didn't, or pretended not to, notice as he followed Ray out of the
diner.
:::Evening:::
When
Fraser arrived at the hospital that evening, he'd been faced with a very
reluctant and suspicious staff, none of whom had wanted to tell him anything
due to the media frenzy the Jane Doe's' story had warranted. It wasn't
until he'd tracked down her doctor and explained that his interest in
the case was strictly processional, that they gave him her room number
and a rough briefing on her medical condition.
She
was stable, though there were some complications, and the psychological
damage couldn't be assessed quite yet. Beyond the immediate dangers of
dehydration, malnutrition and hypothermia, the deeply infected wounds
on her ankles and wrists had attracted some attention beyond the obvious
risks of gangrene and toxemia. The
ER had identified them as burns and a
consult had been called. Concluding
that a barbaric torture device involving some sort of electrocution caused
them. This, combined with the
infection, resulted in some minor nerve damage that should hopefully
heal with time and physical therapy, but there was always that element
of doubt. In addition there were
obvious psychological complications but it remained too early in her
recovery to properly assess the extent of the damage. In a nutshell, the woman had been to hell and lived to tell
about it.
Or
had she?
This
question twisted itself amongst the others coursing through Ben's mind
as he paused outside her room and stepped inside as though treading on
sacred ground. He quietly closed
the door as he looked around the room.
Aside
from the whir of the ventilation system, and the soft hums and clicks
of the various equipment keeping her alive, the room was suffocatingly
quiet. She lay with her back to
him, facing the window and a darkened panorama of Chicago. The thin blanket covering her dipped dramatically at the
waist, rising again at an almost unnatural angle to the hip, where her
hand lay; the bony yet
aristocratically
long fingers curved slightly in relaxation. Someone had been merciful enough to even out her butchered
hair, and it now rested around her head in a soft blanket of short black
curls.
The
sound of his boots hitting the slick tile floor fell like gunshots across
the silence as he timidly stepped to the side of her bed. At the sound of his approach her eyes, which had been otherwise
fixed on the window, turned to him. Even
pinched in pain Fraser could see that they were a striking luminous sea-green.
Beyond them however, whatever beauty she might have held was distorted
by a mask of distinct bruises and contusions that was extremely painful
to look upon, and Fraser felt that pain deeply; even though her doctor
had assured him that the damage was superficial and would likely heal
with little scarring.
"Hello."
The
greeting melted into the air, taking some of the tension with it. Ben noticed a chair and slowly sat
down, putting them at the same eye level.
He smiled and her eyebrows lifted a little, as though it hurt
her.
"Do
you remember me?" He asked quietly, keeping his tone gentle as he
moved to take her hand, slowly as to not disturb the bandages.
She
recoiled from his touch, and jerked away, screwing her eyes tightly shut.
It
was then that Ben noticed the tremor, slight but present, in her lower
extremities. His heart constricted
with pity and he softened his voice further.
"Where
have we seen each other before?"
Her
hands balled up into white knuckled fists as she hugged them closely
to her chest and whimpered with a low, strangled cry. Reminding Ben of the loons that frequented his aunt's pond
in the summer, and unnerving him considerably-- Yet the feeling of familiarity remained so powerful that
he couldn't force himself to back down.
"Please, let me help you..." he pleaded quietly.
He
suddenly realized her lips were moving.
Curious, he leaned forward to better make out the words.
"Brute beauty and valor and act,
Oh, air, pride, plume, here Buckle!
AND the fire that breaks from thee
then,
A billion Times told lovelier,
More dangerous,
O my chevalier!"
For
a long moment Ben sat frozen in disbelief as he absorbed the words falling
soundlessly from her lips. It
was a poem, and one he knew. One
he would never be able to forget.
"No wonder of it:
Sheer plod makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers,
Ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves,
And
gash gold-vermillion."
He
shifted his focus to her eyes, now open and swimming with tears as their
gazes locked. Then suddenly, with
a sharp gasp, he reeled back as truth stabbed him in the heart. He felt the blood drain from his face,
and fought to speak through tide of emotions that tore him in two. Only one word escaped in a deadly whisper.
"Victoria."
An
intense wave of claustrophobia sent Fraser from the room without another
word, stopping in the hallway
to catch his breath. With an almost
unconscious gesture he put his hand over his heart, and slipped off his
Stetson as he turned to face the window to her room.
*Victoria.*
The name echoed though his head like a vicious practical joke and he
braced his other hand against the sill as his legs threatened to give
way.
*Why?
How? Where?*
It
didn't make sense. NONE of it
made sense! This rhetorical train
of
thought
was interrupted as rapid footsteps penetrated the deathly quiet of the
hall.
"Benny!" Ray was breathless from the strain
that came from running the
seven
flights of stairs it had taken to avoid security and the press. As his friend turned to face him, Ben's
hollowed expression of pain doubled Ray's guilt. "You know?"
"Yes..."
"I
hoped I could catch you before you figured it out. There were
fingerprints
all over the house and that cellar thing.
Half of them were hers."
"I
should have recognized her eyes. I
should have seen it -- but it just doesn't make any sense, Ray...."
Ray's
voice sharpened. "Fraser,
the other half belonged to Frankie Zuko."
Or
maybe it did...
3: THIS PATH I FEAR TO TREAD
March
16 :::Late Night:::
"What
do you mean we're off the case?"
Ray was livid.
"You're
off the case, Detective, and so are Huey and Dewey."
"But
it's OUR jurisdiction, it's PERSONAL!"
"Which
is why you're going to stay away from Zuko! If you have anything to do with the investigation, his lawyers
are gonna cry conflict of interest and any evidence you had anything
to do with will be thrown out!"
Ray
knew perfectly well Welsh was right, but that didn't make accepting the
point any easier. The whole of
his soul seethed with an indescribable rage, and he had to focus it on
something or he'd surely self-distruct.
His nostrils flared as he tried to control his anger. "I
swear to God when I get my hands on those two I'll kill 'em, I'll kill
'em with my bare hands!"
"That's
exactly what I'm talking about Vecchio. This isn't easy for any of us,
but it's hardest on you, and I can't be sure you're not going to do something
stupid."
The
torrent of rage within him gradually gave way to pain as Ray bowed his
head and turned to leave the office.
"I
didn't dismiss you Detective. When
was the last time you had a
vacation?"
"Um,
something like a year, sir."
"You've
got another two weeks comin' up..."
"Sir?"
"Just
don't get in the way, Vecchio."
Ray
smiled slowly. "Gotcha."
"Now
get out of my office."
"Yes
sir."
March
18 :::Morning:::
"What
are you talking about? Who is
Victoria?" Frank was, as
usual, fairly bursting with questions after spending the night locked
in a cell.
"You've
been watching the news, you tell me.
Do you get some kinda sick pleasure out of watching your handiwork
publicized all over the contintent?"
Detective Marino was young, and known for his energy and idealistic
judgments of people.
"Don't
answer that, Frank." Zuko's
attorney interjected.
"I
have nothing to hide. Are you
talking about that Jane Doe they found a few days ago?"
"You
know about her?"
"Hard
not to. She's everywhere. Are you saying I did *that*?" Frank's look was convincingly appaled.
"I'm
not saying anything, what are you saying Mr. Zuko?"
"That
I had nothing to do with this! You
have no evidence!"
"I
dost think he protest too much...?"
"You
don't have anything on me! This
isn't fair!"
"You're
coercing a confession, Mr. Marino. Now,
unless you have something substantial with which to justify holding my
obviously innocent client here, I will have no choice but to press charges."
"Excuse
me Detective, can I speak with you a moment?" ASA St. Laurent interrupted them, poking her firey head
into the room.
"Just
a minute." Marino growled as he moved savely out of earshot. "What ya got?"
"The
hitman the FBI was after owned, or should I say operated, the building
the victim was found in. He just
heard about the case."
"Yeah."
"You
need to talk to Welsh."
"But
what about --?" He gestured
to the interrogation room he'd been working in.
"Just
go, Detective."
As
he found his way back to the 27th's bullpen, he noticed the telltale
dark coats and balding heads of a group of IA stiffs. What the hell? he thought. "Lieutenant, what's this
all about?"
You're in the doors that keep
revolving
This silence that keeps screaming
You're in the flashing of the headlights
The things that I believe in.
:::Not
an hour later:::
"Would
you like anything to drink?"
Ray
faced the wiry IA agent before him with an accusitory stare of his own. "I just had a big breakfast, no
thanks."
"Well
then, shall we get down to business?" He pressed 'play' on the tape recorder in front of him. "Can you account for your whereabouts
on the evening of February 27th?"
"Geez,
that's over three weeks ago! Probably
glued to the tube along with 90% of the rest of Chicago watchin' the
all star game. Now what's this
all about?"
"It's
no secret that your buddy and Miss Metcalfe have a history, but how did
you feel during that whole turn of events?"
"You
mean now, or the last time she made our lives a living hell?"
"Last
time."
"I
wanted to kill her, same as everybody else."
"Kill??"
"Oh,
I've got her picture mounted on my wall and I throw darts at it before
I go to bed." Ray returned
sardonically He hadn't appreciated
the violent invasion his home, or this 'informal arrest'. That and the fact that he hadn't slept in over 48 hours
made patience about number 145 on his list of virtues. "Now, what the hell is this all about? If this is what you guys do for fun,
you should be the ones with a probe up your ass."
"We
got you this time Vecchio, there's no way out."
You're in the water that I'm drinking
The pills that disappear
The why and when I'm talking
These words you'll never hear
In this world you are with me....
Fraser
was undergoing much the same line of questioning across the hall. He'd taken the abrupt appearance of
CPD muscle at his building with a grain of salt, but when he was asked
to answer some questions 'in an official capacity,' deja vu overwhelmed
him, and before he fully realized what was happening, he'd buried himself
solidly inside of a protective shell.
And here he was again, facing the ASA in defense of a crime he
knew almost nothing about.
"How
is it, that after nearly two hours with the FBI at the place on Victorville,
no one heard anything out of the ordinary but you?"
"All
RCMP cadets are specifically trained to hone their hearing in on small
noises that are otherwise overlooked.
In the wide open spaces many of us work in, this talent proves
crucial to run what you consider the most rudimentary of tracking exercises."
"And
while you followed the sound, you never thought to alert anyone about
your finding or ask for backup?"
"No,
Detective Vecchio accompanied me, and I thought it to be a most unnecessary
distraction, should my search prove futile."
"Why
exactly were you there in the first place, Constable?"
"Again,
Detective Vecchio and I where posted as the local backup for an FBI undercover
operation."
"And
how long had you known about this assignment?"
But I walk this earth alone
And all I've ever known
Is you are right beside me.
Ray
rubbed his face with his hands as he sighed. "Something like a month maybe."
"And
what did you know about this criminal the FBI was tailing?"
"He's
into a whole bunch of trafficking stuff and they got a tip he was gonna
do a pro hit for a friend. His
hangout's in Chicago so they thought it would happen here, but he skipped
down to Louisiana."
"Then
how were you still involved?"
"We
weren't, but the feds lost him down south and he didn't appear again
until about three days before he came up here. They asked us to run backup again since he was planning
the other part of the hit."
"So
you knew the suspect's stats, the circles he worked, where his hideout
was located, and you knew that he was going out of the state?"
"Right."
"And
the place is abandoned for what? Three
weeks? With only you, your buddy,
and a few select agents who are completely accounted for, fully aware
of this?"
"As
far as I know, yeah. Us and Welsh."
If I love you for a day
And blow my life away
Would you still be right beside me?
The
accusatory tone in Louise's voice was beginning to make sense to Fraser
as he realized what he was facing.
"So,
over the next few weeks, the woman that tried to put you and your best
friend out of comission, is beaten and tortured in a condemned hideout
that only you and your friend know about.
Now, Mr. Fraser, tell me how that works in correlation with this." She pressed the play button on the
small voice recorder that lay in the center of the interrogation table. Instantly, a deep and distinctly masculine
voice filled the room. Fraser
recognized it with a certain sense of horror, as the man from the steakout...the
hitman...
"So
these two guys come to me saying they need a place that's secured for
a couple weeks right? And I ask what for?
They tell me they gotta hold someone somewhere low-key while they
get their money back from 'im. And
I know these guys are cops, but they give me such a good offer, I can't
refuse. I do a little background
check and see that they've both got shady spots on their record, so I
take the deal, givin' 'em a few of my rules. We agree to half up front, half after the job's done, and
I leave. When I come back, my
money's been hid where it was supposed to be in the attic, but there's
no sign of my customers. Hey,
I'm used to this kind of stuff -- it comes with the business -- so I
have the digits checked, and I find out they're marked on a robbery a
long ways back. I've got a meeting
set up for that night, so I don't have time to find 'em and get my payment. But I get busted and I'm not about
to volunteer any information until I got my stories straight. So, yesterday
you guys start asking me questions about this body they've found in my
place, but I haven't even seen my lawyer yet, so I don't wanna say nothing.
"
Another
voice, the interrogator, stepped in.
"How
is it that you didn't see these two men when you were arrested or afterwards? You were in close proximity to them
for close to an hour."
"They
must have never come in the room I was in. If I'da seen those backstabbing sons of bitches I would
have told you guys everything right there, but like I said, I just saw
their faces full out when you showed me those pictures there..."
Louise
stopped the tape.
"It
all works out for you doesn't it? You
get your revenge, the money, you set up your friend's nemesis to take
the fall, and you both come out looking like heroes. Almost too good to be true."
Oh you're in the crashing of the
windows
Angel's on the ceiling
You're in the fire in my belly
This mussed up way I'm feeling
You're in the water only label
The sound of 911
The walls that protect me
From the damage that you've done
In this world you are with me...
"This
is ridiculous, why didn't this guy come forward before? He was in that place for five hours
before they got 'im; tell me he didn't notice something was up." Welsh didn't bother to keep his temper
in check as he, Louise, and the Duckboys argued over their next step
in the secured space of his office.
"Even
if he had, he wouldn't have told anyone about it. Look Lieutenant, it's hard for all of us to admit that we
didn't get Vecchio and Fraser when we had the chance, but now we've got
witnesses, testimony, opportunity, motive coming out of our ears, and
a set of circumstances that are far too convenient to overlook. We can't let them slip between the
cracks again."
"What
about the Victoria? If Fraser
did it, why didn't she identify him on the two occasions he was with
her?"
"He
could have been in disguise, or Vecchio could have been responsible for
the torture. They've made sure
we can't find out now, haven't they?"
"Hey,
no one said her condition was permanent."
"No
one said it's not long term, either.
The point is, if we let these guys out, they're gonna run."
"I
still can't believe this hitman guy didn't notice them in the three days
before this. I want him down here
and have him do a lineup." He
turned to Huey and Dewey who nodded in silent recognition, both speechless
with outrage.
"...
And I want so much pressure on Metcalfe's doctor he's begging for mercy. In the meantime, we'll wait and see
what forensics comes up with."
"And
what about the suspects?" Louise
wouldn't let herself get railroaded.
"We'll
keep 'em in here 'voluntarily.'"
"Fine,
but I want Zuko released with someone on his tail. He's not out of the woods yet, but we got enough harassment
claims coming from that end as it is.
He finds out we're investigating other possibilities and still
keeping him locked up, we'll loose any opportunity to prosecuting him
in the future."
~
Fraser
held his face in his hands as Ray was brought from his interrogation
chamber. Ben hurt, physically,
mentally, and emotionally; and the look on his friend's face seared it
into place like a brand.
Ray
sighed as he sank into his chair. "That
woman carries bad luck with her like a broken mirror."
"Can
you think of anything?"
"Nope,
nothing but what's already on the plate."
"She
would talk to me Ray, I'm sure of it."
"You
don't know that."
"I
know her."
"That's
what you said the last time."
"Because
I did, Ray. If I could get the
opportunity to see her, face to face, I know I could get her to tell
us the truth."
"Well
from the looks of it, that's not going to be happening any time soon.
The
Mountie swallowed, it was going to be a long day.
:::Evening:::
The
star witness, Mitchell Sampson, was brought to the precinct and positively
identified both Fraser and Ray out of the detailed picture lineups.
At
first, the Chief Phyciatrist at County General, had flat out refused
any sort of contact with Victoria -- in that she had been showing early
signs of a panic disorder . But
after facing down Elaine and a hostile police force, he agreed to consider
the prospect the next day, so long as Victoria's testimony remained invaluable
to the case.
This
left nothing to those 'champions' of Fraser and Ray's cause, but the
foreboding cloud of forensic evidence.
Whispers circulating the department did little to ease fears and
they were forced to wait until well after hours , but very few left the
precinct. When Louise finally
walked into the bullpen carrying her folder, triumphant, there was still
a considerable crowd awaiting her.
"Leiutenant,
I need to speak with you in private." Her tone was clipped and smug.
"What?" He waved to the crowd outside as he
shut the blinds to his office.
"Keys
were found in both Fraser's apartment and Vecchio's residence that match
the locks to Sampson's hideout. In
Ray's basement a box of miscellaneous hardware was discovered, including
a set of door handles identical in design and make to the one at the
crime scene. BUT..." She pulled a picture of a key from the file
she carried, and handed it to Welsh. "It belongs to a safety deposit
box in the First National Bank, four blocks from the Canadian Consulate. Inside was close to one hundred thousand
dollars in pristine condition bills. The serial numbers were traced,
and they match what was left of the cash from the Alaska robbery."
She paused for only a moment. "I want arrests, Lieutenant, and I
want them now."
But I walk this earth alone
And all I've ever known
Is you are right beside me
If I love you for a day
And blow my life away
Would you still be right beside me?
Oh would you still....be right....beside
me?
4: THE BROKEN MIRROR
March
17 :::Late Evening:::
Due
to a miscommunication somewhere in the recesses of CPD paperwork, Zuko
was released at the same time Fraser and Ray were arrested. As the two were ushered to the processing
room, he passed from the other end of the hallway and laughed with that
seemed to emit from hell itself.
"Have
fun guys, the food's great."
Welsh
overtly turned to Huey and Dewey. "I want background checks on everyone
that's visited Sampson since he was incarcerated."
"Yes,
Sir." They answered in unison
as they turned toward the bullpen.
"Not
now, Detectives. Go home and get
some sleep; we're going to need you running at 110% tomorrow.
The
Duck Boys couldn't remember ever hearing that forbidding a tone in Welsh's
voice, and more out of fear than heartfelt willingness, the two left
to what would undoubtedly be a very long night.
March
18 :::Midmorning:::
With
the concrete arrest of the suspect police officers, County General's
Chief Phyciatrist Dr. Branston gave in to relentless CPD pressure and
agreed to give Victoria's questioning a ghost of a chance. But in order to follow procedure he first needed the patient's
permission. They knew her vocal
cords had not been damaged in any way, by her frantic speech during and
after a nightmare, nor did she seem to suffer from any kind of speech
impediment. Her mute status was
strictly emotional, and most all emotional crisises could be overcome.
He
quietly stepped into the room and cleared his throat. She was facing the window, as was her habit, and made no
effort to acknowledge his arrival.
"Victoria, the police are having some difficulty pressing
charges against the men that assaulted you. Most of their evidence is circumstantial, and with the suspects
avidly denying any involvement in the incident, your testimony has proven
to be invaluable to their case." He paused as she shifted around
to face him, a bit of an improvement in that she hadn't bothered with
such a response in the past. "A
couple of detectives would like to ask you a few questions if, of course,
you feel that you can hadle it. I can also keep it to yes and no questions
so you won't have to speak."
But
she did, shocking him with a simple word: "Ben?"
"Constable
Fraser?"
"Yes,
does he want to ask questions?"
Her voice was perfectly clear, if a little brusque.
"No,
I'm afraid he is one of the suspects." Branston had to admit he himself found it hard to believe
the Mountie was capable of such heinous behavior.
Victoria
sat up abruptly, nearly detaching her IV.
"NO!!!"
Branston
quickly grasped her hand. "It's
all right, no one knows anything for sure." He could feel the rapid increase in her pulse. "Victoria, they can do this without
you. I don't want you overexerting
yourself."
She
was quiet for a moment. "Can
I talk to Ben anyway?"
"I'm
afraid not. He is under arrest."
Her
eyes darkened and narrowed and snapped with anger. "Son of a..."
"Pardon?"
She
shook her head. "Will they
be asking questions regarding my involvement in...past...incidents? My record?"
"Not
without your permission, In fact I strongly suggest they don't. I don't think you're capable of handling
that nature of stress."
She
closed her eyes as she thought through the past.
"I'll
do it." She said with grim
determination.
"Are
you sure?"
"Yes. I'm obligated to."
The
doctor lifted an eyebrow at this, but didn't press further. "As you wish, I'll give you a
few hours to think on it should you change her mind." He knew this would be a huge step in her recovery, and not
one he would normally permit so quickly--yet she seemed unshakably determined,
and was apparently not mentally incapacitated by her condition in any
way; leaving him no legal recourse to prevent the interview.
:::Early
Afternoon:::
The
prospect of facing *any* law enforcing uniform was terrifying to
Victoria. She'd been running for so long deception
had fused with instinct, giving her chills just to think about it. But she would be damned if she'd leave
Fraser out to dry again.
"You
have fifteen minutes, I don't care what she gives you." The
Psychiatrist
was explicit with his instructions. "No
mention whatsoever of her rap sheet, and I reserve the right to terminate
this engagement at any time, is that clear?"
"Perfectly,
Doc." Huey sensed victory,
having uncovered sleazy backgrounds with two of the hitman's visitors,
and it showed in his voice. With
an unconscious nod of his head, he stepped into the room, Dewey following
close behind.
Beyond
the mug shots, and that brief glance on the train platform, the
detective
had never seen Fraser's siren up close.
But here, even with the extensive bruising and anemic facial structure,
he realized just how beautiful she was. "Hello, I'm Jack Huey and
this is my partner, Thomas Dewey. We're
here to ask you a few questions about your attackers. That is, assuming
there was more than one?"
"One
leader, I can't even begin to count his buddies."
"Did
you manage to get a close look at any of them?"
"Oh
yes, most all of them."
"They
weren't disguised?"
"No,
I was captive for over a month and knew the assailant, quite well
actually."
"Enough
for names?"
"Most
of them go by aliases, but Frankie was too proud for that."
"Frankie,
as in Frankie Zuko?"
"Yes. About 5'10", dark thick hair,
dark eyes...traditional Italian pretty boy. You know who I'm talking about."
Dewey
pulled Zuko's mugshot from his briefcase and handed it to her. "This guy?"
Looking
directly into the snakelike eyes of the man responsible for her life's
ruin, started a chain reaction within her emotional core and her chest
began to constrict. She quickly
looked away from the offensive picture, willing herself not to succumb
to the fear. "Yes, that's him."
"We
want to believe this as much as you, but the evidence points to...someone
else." Huey didn't want to
complicate the situation by saying Fraser's name aloud. "See, we can't visualize a motive
for Zuko, or evidence of a frame up."
The
witness was quiet, phrasing her response as vaguely as possible while
still answering the implied question.
"I didn't carry out my end of the deal."
"The
deal?" Dewey didn't think
as he asked the obvious question.
"Our
deal. I didn't pull it off and
he wanted his money back. The
bastard almost killed me, do you think I could ever forget that face? Do you know what it's like to have
this done to you Detective? Do
you know what it's like when no matter where you go or where you hide,
you just close your eyes and he's right there..." Her voice quavered as she spoke, despite the forceful wording. She pressed her hand to her chest as
a violent panic attack engulfed her. With her voice reduced to a whisper,
she pleaded with them between short gasps for air.
"Pl...ease
go aw...ay..."
The
culprits of her distress made a hasty retreat, their minds swimming with
the breakthrough information and in no mood to face an irate specialist.
"You
think that's going to be enough?"
Dewey asked once safely outside.
"I
don't know, but we're going to have to make it enough." As soon as he had the key in the ignition, his cell phone
buzzed.
"Detective
Huey...Uh huh...uh huh......She said it was Zuko and she was supposed
to do something for him she didn't do...something involving money....yeah
never did make sense to me that she had those kinds of contacts 'n she
just got out...okay....okay we're on our way."
"What?"
"That
was Welsh. Sampson and Zuko's
attorneys went to law school together.
The Lieu's got the FBI pressing Sampson right now. He wants us to go down there with Victoria's testimony so
they can work out a plea.
:::
"So,
Mitch. Your friends call you Mitch?" The feds had sent in a fresh agent
to work out the plea with Sampson -- an aging suit with zero tolerance
for games.
"Yeah."
"So
you got a love affair goin' for electric chairs here or what?"
"What?"
"Stop
it Sampson. We've already got
you on conspiracy charges, possession charges, assault, assault of a
police officer, solicitation of murder...You name it. Add it to manufacturing evidence and impeding an investigation
so you could frame a police officer...That's a one way ticket to fry
buddy."
"What
are you talking about? I didn't
lie!"
"...Not
to mention wasting our time. The
victim told us everything, now you tell us what *you* got on Zuko, and
we might just consider making a deal to keep you out of the barbecue
pit."
The
suspect turned to his lawyer and they continued in a whispered conference
for a good two minutes. "What
are your terms?"
"You
give us enough to nail Zuko and hold up in court, we'll keep your case
out of it and give you a straight twenty-five to life."
"But
he's forty-eight, and has a heart condition," The attorney interjected.
"Good,
then he'll take less juice."
They
went into whispers again, gradually the lawyer started to turn red, and
then a ghastly pale.
"It's
a deal." Sampson said with
a malicious grin.
"Then
spill it, little man." Anderson
was more than fed up, it was a hell of a deal and they all knew it.
"I'll
have nothing to do with this." The
lawyer stood and turned to leave the interrogation cell.
"If
I were you, I wouldn't let him go just yet." Sampson stated coolly.
The
agent lifted an eyebrow and signaled the guards outside to lock the door.
The lawyer stood like a deer in the spotlights, so pale he looked on
the edge of an all out faint.
"Zuko
leased the hideout, he and I are sort of old friends from better days. Anyway, I got busted and this lady
showed up outta my cellar, so he sent a message through my lawyer here,
of what I was supposed to say if you guys started askin' me questions. Those two cops busted me 'n my boys,
I didn't really feel like doin' 'em any favors, so I did what I was told."
"There
isn't a record of any sort of lease."
"It
was a private thing, under the table.
Between friends."
"You
didn't think it was at all odd that he was framing police officers?"
"Nah,
Frankie's always been stupid when it came to messin' with the cops. Everyone knows he and Vecchio go way
back. All I had to do was follow
the story, I didn't have anything to lose."
"What
about the victim? Didn't you think
she'd eventually tell what was up?"
"I
thought Frankie had that all figured out, I wasn't supposed to know
anything
about that. I don't think he planned
on letting her talk..."
Anderson
stood as a guard stepped in to remove Sampson.
"Hey
is it a deal then?"
"You'll
have to talk to Ford about that..."
Anderson said with a ruthless grin as the hitman was fairly drug
from the cell, screaming obscenities.
Out of the corner of his eye he just caught the tips of the lawyer's
tails as he fled from the building. Huey
stepped into the doorway.
"Aren't
we going to??"
"No,
he's not worth our time, he'll get his just rewards."
An
evil grin spread across Huey's dark features as he turned to Dewey and
they headed back to the 27th, bearing information that would not only
free their friends but hopefully put the head of west end organized crime
behind bars, this time, permanently.
5: TOO MANY TIMES BETRAYED
March
25 :::Night:::
*The
Gustafson's are fighting again. * Fraser
thought, as he tried again to concentrate on the page he'd already read
five times. There was another
yell and a crash, as something broke in the apartment below him. Dief shifted with an irritated whine
as he woke from his nap.
"I
know, but you remember what happened the last time I got involved."
This
was followed by another crash from below and Dief let off a yip of
disapproval
as he rolled off the bed and wandered to his water bowl.
Fraser
sighed as he marked his page and flipped off the desk lamp, swallowing
the room in darkness save what small light slipped in from the street.
The
argument continued below, words Ben didn't want to hear, but couldn't
ignore.
"What
about me? Do my feelings mean
nothing to you? Does love mean
nothing to you?"
His
breath caught as a wave of guilt punched him in the gut.
After
he and Ray were released, and he'd managed to convince Canadian
authorities
of his innocence, Fraser had meant to thank Victoria. He had even gotten as far as her hospital door; but he could
never cross the threshold before fear and uncertainty turned him back. He couldn't force himself to face her,
there was just too much there, too much water under the bridge.
"It's
not easy to forgive, is it Son?"
The ghost from Fraser past seemed to instantly fill the room with
is presence.
Ben
stared at his father's ghostlike form in front of the window for a moment. "Where have you been?"
"Oh,
here and there. How have you been?"
"I
think you know the answer to that."
He folded his arms tightly across his chest and looked away.
"Oh
buck up son, you know you made the right decision."
"Have
I?"
"She's
a murderer Benton. Good God, pull
yourself together!"
He
swallowed hard. "Why is it
so difficult? My mind...I think
it's the right decision but...I can't...make her...make it go away..."
"And
it never will go away, she will always be with you. But you just have to be stronger than that. Act with your head, learn from your
mistakes. 'Fool me once shame
on you, fool me twice shame on me.'"
"I
know that, but...she just seemed so -- so empty, so broken. When I
realized
who she was, my reaction was...shameful.
The expression in her eyes -- I just -- can't get away from it. She haunts me."
"We
all have our trials in life son, one obstacle or another to overcome. Yours is learning to forgive yourself,
forgive her, and accept fate as it comes at you. Accept that you are not going to get a second chance."
Ben
tried to speak, but his words congealed as tears clogged in his throat. As a crystalline drop escaped his control
and rolled over his cheek, he fiercely rubbed it away, willing himself
not to care. Willing himself not
to feel.
"You'll
come to your senses with time Benton.
Just hold out until then, and don't forget the past. Can you remember what granddad used
to tell us? 'Everyone makes mistakes,
the definition of a man is he who can learn from them, and never repeat
them again.'"
"I
think it was more in the way of: 'The
definition of a man is he who can learn enough from his mistakes to never
repeat them again.' "
"Oh,
well, memory's slipping you know, age catching up with me."
"Your
dead, you can't age."
"Not
our position to judge the powers that be.
Anyway take heart and get some sleep Son, you need it."
"Thanks,
Dad." With his pain forced
under control, it came out through anger and sarcasm.
Dief
had finished his between snacks snack and jumped back to the bed, licking
Ben gently, as he curled up in his place beside the Mountie. Fraser swallowed again as he unconsciously
rubbed the wolf behind his ears, and stared at the sparse small flakes
of spring snow as they danced outside his window.
May
7 1996 :::Five weeks later:::
"Hey,
you know Victoria's getting released tomorrow?" Ray said absently
over his typewriter as he plugged away at the week's paperwork.
This
yanked Fraser back from the no-mans-land his mind had wandered to. "No. No, Ray, I did not know that."
"Doc
finally said she's strong enough to switch hands. I think Ford got sick and tired of waiting."
"She's
being transferred to Juliet?"
"Yup,
and let me tell you, I'll sleep a whole lot better when she's locked
in there permanently."
"Ah." Ben wished he could agree, but had
been prison that turned Victoria into the monster she was now. It was a vicious cycle, but then again,
it hadn't only been prison...
Ray
continued, oblivious to Fraser's sudden introspection.
"Anyway,
I have friends that will keep us updated, if it goes to trial we might
have to testify."
"I
know." He knew, but didn't
want to. The thought of assisting
in her incarceration tied Fraser's stomach in knots. She'd be charged with first-degree murder and there was
a very real possibility of the death penalty under Illinois law.
Ray
returned to his game of hunt and peck.
"Um,
Ray. That should be an 'a'."
"Oh,
don't even start that again, Fraser."
"I'm
sorry."
The
longing for Victoria had diminished to a bearable point within Ben's
soul, but at the slightest provocation it would come roaring back and
make up for the calm in between. He
knew he had to make his decision, and soon, before he lost any opportunity
to do anything. Which would be
something that he would almost certainly live to regret. That was the last thing he needed, more regrets. He looked at the clock above Ray's desk. "I really should get going."
"Okay,
I'll see you tomorrow. I'm going
to need help on that Mendovez case. Oh,
and tell the Dragon Lady I said hi."
"Will
do. Dief!"
The
wolf gave a disinterested grunt as he left his comfortable spot at
Elaine's
feet, and followed Fraser out of the precinct.
:::Early
Evening:::
Ben
tipped his hat at the security guard as she punched in the access code
to Victoria's secure room. He
had made his decision, and hoped beyond all hope he could retain the
strength to stick to it. During
the walk to the hospital he repeated the plan over and over in his mind
until it was etched in his memory; he'd thank her for helping him, wish
her luck, give her the number of that defense attorney he knew, and that
would be the end of it.
As
he stepped into the barren room he thought again. 'Just stick to the plan.'
She
stood in front of the window, staring blankly at the city below her as
she unconsciously rubbed at the collar of her periwinkle sweater. As he stepped in, she turned to face
him, not bothering to hide the surprise that punctuated her features. She smiled, rather the corners of her
mouth turned up a little, as she said, "Hi."
"Hello,
Victoria." Very little scarring from the beating remained. Were it not for the drawn expression
of anxiety, and the pain in her eyes, she was almost the Victoria he'd
known before.
"Ray
told me you are to be released tomorrow."
She
turned back to the window.
"Yes. I still have
to see a psychiatrist a few times a week but...I should be okay."
"I
see." He paused as he racked his brain for the right words. The only sound in the small space came
from her breathing and the monotonous tick from the clock above the doorway. It was as if the anguish in their souls
had seeped into the air, and the resulting ambiance compounded his distress. "I just came by to thank you."
She
half laughed with irony. "What
for?"
"Telling
the truth. I wanted to thank you
for not..." He didn't finish
the sentence, and as it faded out it seemed to belong to the tension
in the room.
"Well,
I guess you're welcome." Her
voice was small and far away, swallowed in memories.
There
was a long silence as Fraser wrestled with his emotions. His heart ached to take her into his
arms and smooth away that wrenching expression from her face, but his
head swam with the past and bitter distrust. A man once bitten, twice shy. Finally he let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding
and spoke, his voice quavering in harmony with his soul. "I'm sorry there's nothing more I can do."
Victoria
turned from the window to face her life, formed into the shape of a man. A man she loved so deeply it had destroyed
her. He leaned against the doorframe,
holding his Stetson with an expression of tortured uncertainty that made
it hard for her to breathe. Her
voice remained quiet as the words flowed forth unsteadily.
"Ben,
it...it wasn't me behind everything that happened. I mean, I could have done a lot more to prevent it. I guess it was partially my fault it
started, and I will have to pay the consequences for that, I know. But I never meant for it to go so far."
Ben
bowed his head, averting his eyes from her pleading stare should she
see his vulnerability.
Her
voice dropped another octave, as tears loomed closer. "I do love
you, you know."
This
was followed by a silence that twisted into her like a knife. She continued staring at him, begging with her brimming
eyes until she lost control, and turned back to the window to hide the
tear as it slid unchecked down her cheek.
There
was another long, awkward silence, as Ben forced himself to ignore his
heart and finish his mission.
"You'll
be needing a lawyer..."
He
heard his words clear but distant, feeling as though they came from
another
body and not the one writhing in hidden agony as he was now.
"That
shouldn't be a problem. There's
not much to do." Her voice
was edged with nervous, empty laughter.
She
is just going to give in? he thought, as a new wave of pain washed over
him. Fraser realized he was hedging,
he had to leave, and quickly.
"Well,
if you change your mind, here's the number to a very good attorney who
happens to be a friend of mine."
His words remained detached. "Good
luck, Victoria."
Before
she could say something that would render his legs permanently
immobile,
which he guessed wouldn't take much more than a simple farewell, Ben
signaled to the guard to let him out.
As stepped softly from the room he whispered "goodbye",
and he watched the door close his heart inside.
6: THE TRUTH ENSLAVED
January
23, 1998
The
small but numerous flakes of snow fell with all the intensity of a summer
thundershower, attacking the city of Chicago with all the force and fury
Mother Nature could dig up. The
temperature had dropped below zero for the second night in a row, breaking
fan belts and freezing the batteries of the few cars that had not been
buried in the six inches of snow that had fallen in the preceding 36
hours. The storm was shutting down the city
bit-by-bit, leaving it's residents wondering what ghastly crime they
had committed to produce such wrath from above. However one woman didn't wonder, a woman quite accustomed
to these types of storms, and what in the way of life-transformation
they brought to her. Never one
to miss an opportunity, Victoria braved an hour of exposure as she painstakingly
picked her way through the snowed-in sidewalks. Her heart heavy with fear yet buoyed with the drug of faith,
and hope.
The
imposing brick edifice of the Canadian Consulate did little to ease her
fears as she knocked hesitantly. Just
as she raised her hand to knock again, the door swung open. Revealing a sleep-ruffled Fraser in his customary led Long
johns.
At
first he couldn't tell who the bundle of winter clothing was, until she
raised her head enough for him to make out her eyes. For a fleeting moment his heart swelled with some kind of
relief and delight, but before he could act on it a cruel hand of reality
swept it away. Oh....god...Victoria...
He thought, the name freezing his mind into a useless mass of fear. He opened his mouth and then closed
it again, like a fish gasping for air.
They stood like that for upwards of a minute before Fraser could
manage a hoarse. "What are
you doing here?" He refused
to let himself notice as she flinched.
Her eyes looked haunted...tormented but her voice with fringed
with hope.
"I
need to talk to you."
"I
don't...think there is much to say...if your looking for a legal sanctuary
you know I can't help you." The whirling snow that blocked out everything
behind her brought back memories he viciously shoved aside in his struggle
to keep his voice even.
"Legal
sanctuary? Oh! No, Fraser. I'm..." She shivered as a gust
of wind bit through her clothing. "It's so complicated...could you
just let me in to warm up a minute?"
With
a reluctant sigh he stepped aside and allowed her to pass into the small
foyer. His lips pressed together
in a thin line of frustration as his heart and mind ruthlessly wrestled
with each other,
reason and love, trust and loneliness,
ashes to ashes.
She
stomped the snow from her boots.
"Makes you miss home doesn't it?"
"What?"
"The
storm, doesn't it make you homesick?"
Fraser
tilted his head. "At times."
She
sighed as she unwrapped her scarf and removed her hat, letting the static
disarray of short midnight black curls free to stick up wherever they
chose. "I take it they didn't tell you anything."
His
heart jumped and lodged into his throat when he noticed, and remembered
the loss of her hair. "If when you say "they" you mean
the FBI, no, those involved were sworn to secrecy and the case was sealed." He sounded like a drowning cat, voice
tight and thick.
"Oh..." She waited, looking around the entry
for some sort of chairs but after finding none, and finding no hint,
subtle or otherwise, would win her an invitation upstairs she began to
speak, a story she'd re-told a hundred times and was now more a memorized
address. "In exchange for
my testimony against Zuko I was officially pardoned of all charges, State
and Federal. He was convicted
on his last appeal about two weeks ago so I'm now sort of an unofficial-official
protected witness."
As
much as he wanted to blindly believe this he knew better, and stayed
aloof; keeping his arms folded tightly across his chest and his face
blank.
"You
know how my sister rebelled against our childhood and spent most of her
life on the street."
"Yes."
"She
contracted Hepatitis C while I was in prison and by the time I got out
she was hospitalized and on the donor list. It was only about a week later that they found a match. Lucky for us a live match...the woman
was clinically brain-dead. But
there was another possible recipient on the list, and she was far more
qualified for it than my sister. So
the doctors left it up to money, thinking the other woman would surely
get it since Natalie didn't have any insurance to speak of and contracted
the disease in a less-than- innocent way.
What they didn't count on was me, and the fact that I still knew
where the money from the robbery was, and how to get to it." Victoria licked her lips as her mouth
had suddenly gone dry.
"You
see originally the money was supposed to had been laundered through foreign
banks, but after things went so bad Jolly went hysterical. Both Ed and I were afraid we'd be set
up as the scapegoats so we agreed, at his urging, to smuggle it out and
he'd hide it with a friend of his who had mob connections and subsequent
laundering potential. We didn't
count on Jolly finding out only minutes after Ed left, the abuse I took
because of it, and the state he could work himself into. Ed didn't have a chance, as soon as he returned Jolly attacked
him and there was barely a struggle before Ed was shot. Jolly ran, I never did know where too, and while Ed was
dying he told me how to access the money should I ever need to, and gave
me the number to a friend who could smuggle me into Canada."
"I
see..." By sheer force of
will the Mountie forced his voice under control. What was it about her that stripped his defenses so easily? "I thought...I was always under
the impression that your other partner was killed in some sort of automobile
accident."
"I
guess Jolly or someone came back after I left and set that up, they found
his body washed up on shore in the arm with a broken guardrail not far
from it. The body was almost unrecognizable
so I guess they didn't suspect foul play.
It was never mentioned in the trial because Jolly wasn't about
to bring it up and if I had I would have had to admit to knowing where
the money was, and the mob contacts, which I knew, would have been suicide. I had no interest in that money, I
never had."
"But
you just said you co spirited with Ed to get it away from Jolly."
"It
was that or let Jolly take it for himself and leave us to pay for it." She sighed, now finally being free
to tell him the circumstances that got her caught up in that robbery. But that was only a side note, there
was too much else to explain. "Anyway
when Natalie needed the money I knew where it was, and I couldn't let
her die so I found Ed's so called "friend" who was none too
pleased with parting with it. He
had to give me direct funds since they hadn't laundered the original
cash yet, so it worked out more that I was borrowing it than taking back
what was mine...relatively speaking.
I had to sell my soul to the mob to do it basically but at the
time I didn't care. The exchange
went smoothly and for about a week I was in relative bliss, the operation
had gone well...Nat was fully on the road to recovery...then I got a
phone call. The so called "friend"
had another friend who'd been humiliated and roughed up by a couple of
cops in Chicago, and wouldn't luck have it but one of them was the Mountie
that turned me in."
Fraser
winced with this and began to pace, he needed something something to
relieve a little of the pressure building inside him.
She
ran a hand absently through her static mass of curls as she sank into
a sitting position against the wall behind her. "It wasn't supposed to be so severe. You where going to be set up for the possession and the
exchange; but...but I needed more time, and then I saw Jolly that first
night. I knew he wanted the money
and revenge. I was so scared I
just...stayed. That night though
when I was planting the money I'd pried open your trunk, figuring it
to be a logical place to hide tainted cash. But there was your gun.
I wasn't armed so I grabbed it without letting myself think it
through." She paused.
"I'd
underestimated Frank, he thought my extended time with you was a sign
that I was double crossing, and sent a guy after me. So when you ran after Ray that evening he had been waiting
and charged in...it was dark and he was disguised...I was so terrified
I thought at first it was Jolly so I reached for your gun. I realized too late what a mistake it had been, he attacked
me and Dief attacked him ...to defend me I guess. Before I knew just what had happened I had lost the gun
and your wolf had been shot. I
realized who the guy was then and didn't have a choice but to leave with
him..."
He
stopped pacing but still refused to look at her. "Why didn't you tell me?"
She
snorted. "Seriously Ben,
you'd already tried butting heads with Zuko. Where did it get you?"
The
question was met by silence as Fraser moved to the window and braced
his hands on the sill, blankly staring at the snow.
"I
still wonder if he had something to do with bringing Jolly into it. It wasn't two hours after I'd explained
what had happened before he had another plan that would 'take care of
everything.' I don't think anyone
could come up with something so devious that fast. He wanted me to set you and Ray up for Jolly's murder but
it was just the last straw. I
knew what prison was like, and couldn't imagine doing that to you. But when I started hesitating he called
a contact in Seattle to 'Take care of the Metcalfe sister.'"
The
Mountie's head sagged even as his shoulders knotted in pain. "Victoria...this is so hard for me to believe. Why in god's name should I trust you? When have you ever done something that
was for anything but your own benefit?"
His
words hurt but she imagined herself beyond any real feeling. "Since forever, Fraser, I didn't save your life ten
years ago to serve myself, I didn't avoid killing you when I had the
chance to serve myself." Her
voice lowered. "I didn't
let you go to serve myself."
There
was another taxing silence before she started again.
"
When Ray mortgaged his house to get you out Frank wanted to continue
with the exchange to get back the money.
In order to do that I had to blackmail you into it and at that
point I didn't care about Natalie, I wouldn't make you turn your back
on your friend. I guess I'd always
hoped you and Ray could put your heads together and figure out what was
going on, even if it was at my own expense. But I knew that if I made you help with the exchange it
would seal your guilt, I wouldn't accept so Zuko cut me a deal. If I could get you to come with me
he'd let you out of his net since it had been Ray he was trying to punish
anyway. But he knew I was at a
self-destructive point, so he warned that my every move would be watched,
and since I didn't know the guy we were supposed to exchange the diamonds
with he'd guide me through an earpiece.
Someone must have leaked the information on where the cash came
from, that's the only way I can explain the fiasco with the thief. But the strange thing was when I picked
you up, all of a sudden the earpiece went dead and I couldn't see my
tail. Then you still refused to
go with me and I realized what sitting ducks we were, how easily Zuko
could rig the private plane to crash, and even if we did make it to freedom
I realized just how it would have killed your spirit to live as a fugitive
from justice..." She stopped
with a shaky breath, her resolve starting to crumble.
"That's
why you kicked me out..." Ben
said quietly from the window.
"Yes,
I couldn't do that to you. I ran
without thinking, but you were one step ahead of me. I was so confused, and scared, and hurting. All I could see was how much I needed
you but how you would never trust me again. There was no way to prove the mob's involvement; their lawyer's
would have torn apart my credibility in a second. But you kept looking at me..." Her voice cracked and she bit her lip. "I need...I needed you...I needed to be with you...to
come with me. For an instant,
when you ran to me, I felt...whole. That
bullet might as well have hit me too because something inside me died
in that
moment." She had to stop
as memories opened the floodgates of emotional pain.
Fraser
turned around to see Victoria's face twisted in pain. He continued his silence though his eyes now glowed
sympathetic. There was an inherent
honesty to her words, her hurt. Even
if she was the world's greatest actress this was still one hell of a
show.
It
only took a minute or two for her to compose herself, as came from years
of practice. When she lifted her
head her face wore a guarded expression, eyes hooded and cold. "I never saw Natalie again, they killed her in a freak
explosion as soon as she was released from the hospital. I had a few friends from prison that
helped me hide but I was running from two very formidable forces, the
mob and the feds. It was only
a matter of time before one or the other found me. I guess after Irene's death and Sorrento's disloyalty Zuko
lost his mind. With his grudge for Ray renewed, he
blamed me for Irene's death, and tortured me for it. Finally leaving me locked in that cellar...I guess you know
how the rest goes."
He
wanted to believe her, oh how he wanted to believe her. "Victoria..." He started and stopped as the words
he'd meant to form faded into nothing.
Fraser was crumbling, knew it, and couldn't force himself not
to show it as he pinched his nose with one hand and hugged his chest
with the other. After what seemed
like an eternal silence he spoke, the phrase barely audible. "What do you want?"
"I
don't...I don't know...Forgiveness? I
guess..." She pushed herself
up as though bearing a tremendous weight. "I wanted you to know...the
truth." She pulled on her
jacket unceremoniously.
"I
can't let you back out in that."
She
smiled now, a sad expression of hopelessness. "I can take care of myself Ben." She dug two business cards from her pocket and set them
on the small desk by the door. "If
you have any questions here are the number to the Agent who handled my
end of the case, my lawyer, and my hotel." She opened the door, pausing for a moment before closing
it again and crossing to where he still stood by the window. Their eyes shone with tears as she gently touched his cheek. "I'm so sorry Ben" The apology was barely a whisper. "So sorry."
Her
presence was, as always, mesmerizing.
He slid a hand around her waist, bringing her closer as the other
found it's way over her back. She
tilted her head as their lips met in the slightest of kisses and he murmured
against her mouth. "So am
I."
They
stood staring at each other until her lower lip began to tremble. She pulled away roughly as he breath
caught with a sob, and ran into the storm, slamming the door so hard
it shook the Consulate; and Fraser's spirit.
7)
SWEET SURRENDER
The
greater Chicago area being in a state of emergency the Canadian Consulate
was temporarily shut down, leaving Fraser the much-needed free time he
needed to research Victoria's story...in between helping friends shovel
their driveways and roofs. He
knew the numbers she had left him couldn't be trusted, but using them
for a starting point he found his way to more reliable sources of his
own. Surprisingly they not only
collaborated her story but also gave him instructions to further evidence
that would either explain an inconsistency or lead him to another witness...Natalie
Metcalfe's doctors, the family of the young woman who was actually killed
in the Scagway accident. Thus
it appeared, as hard as it was to accept, that she was telling the truth.
Which
is how, three days later, he found himself bidden by his heart, at the
door of her hotel room and knocking gently.
The
tapping jerked Victoria from her book and sent cold fingers of fear through
her heart. As quietly as possible
she slipped her sidearm from it's place beside the bed and crept to the
door, opening it and leveling the weapon at whatever offensive embodiment
of humanity stood at the other side.
"Fraser!" She
cried, dropping the gun with surprise.
"What???"
At
the sight of her fresh from the shower, shiny eyed, rosy cheeked, and
curly haired the Mountie all but attacked her with a brutal kiss. He lifted her straight off her feet
as he pulled her into his arms and continued his passionate assault while
her pinning her firmly against the door.
Drunk with feeling he hardly noticed her hands pushing at him
and the small cries of discomfort she could make with her mouth otherwise
occupied. Finally she dug her
nails into his shoulders. He drew
back suddenly, easing her to the floor and rubbing her ribs as he realized
he'd knocked the air from her. "Easy,
don't panic." He murmured as she struggled for breath and at last
regained it with a sort of shuddering gasp.
Doesn't mean much
Doesn't mean anything at all.
"Jesus
Fraser!" She breathed again. "You trying to kill me?"
He
chuckled softly and kissed her forehead, sliding her into a much gentler
embrace and whispering "maybe" into her kiss-bruised lips before
claiming them again.
The life I left behind me was a cold
room.
I've crossed the last line
From where I can return.
Where every step I took in faith betrayed
me.
And lead me from my home...
He
took her breath away this time with tenderness, caressing her sides and
back softly, his kiss almost magically rubbing away the brutality of
his previous attentions. Her heart
swelled as she realized what it meant and bent to it willingly as his
smell; wood smoke, snow, leather, and the faintest underlacing of old
spice, filled her senses. She
slid her hands over his shoulders and through his hair, longer than she
had ever remembered it as it actually curled through her fingers and
began to return the kiss.
Sweet.....Sweet Surrender
Is all that I have to give.
Her
hesitance at returning touch turned something inside Fraser and he noted
to himself to make this about her, to take away at least a little of
that lost and embittered look in her eyes.
She
watched as he moved along her jaw line with a trail of light kisses,
stopping at the pulse point of her neck to tease and prod the tender
skin with his tongue. She swallowed
hard as a surge of love ran though her.
You take me in
No questions asked.
Her
skin was like silk, flavored with soap, salt, and that unique and exotic
taste that was just her, driven by this he parted her soft pink robe
and slid it from her shoulders. The
room was slightly chill and he brought her body close to his to ward
it off as he continued remembering with his tongue.
You strip away the ugliness that surrounds
me.
Victoria
gasped softly as he dipped yet lower.
Her hands slid out of his hair and under the collar of his jacket,
slipping it off before dropping lower to his waist and slowly under the
soft knit of his sweater; Her fingers creeping softly over the firm smooth
muscles of his belly as they moved up.
Are you an angel?
Am I already that gone?
Fraser
broke away from her reluctantly as she pulled his sweater and undershirt
over his head in one fluid movement.
Without missing a beat he dropped and slid an arm behind her knees,
sweeping her into his arms and with a series of easy steps set her across
the bed. She reached to cup his
cheek as he crawled next to her, but he caught her hand midair and slid
her fingers into his mouth with a low groan. His tongue learned them anew in what had become a sort of
erotic ritual. Only after he'd
explored every millimeter of her fingers did he release them to kiss
down along her palm and tease the pulse point at her wrist.
Oh I only hope that I won't disappoint
you.
When I'm down here on my knees....
What
was it about the fingers that heated her blood like a forest fire? She could manage only this coherent
thought through the haze of lust that clouded her mind, until the glorious
touch of his tongue reached the rubbery circles of the scars. "Oh god, Victoria..." She heard, the stress in his voice hurtling her back to
reality. Her eyes opened to see
face constricted in pain. "Shhh....it's
okay Ben."
"No...no
it's not." His voice was
strained.
She
pulled him down onto her, bringing them face to face as she traced the
outline of his skull with her thumbs.
"Don't think about it, don't ruin this..." They kissed, a gentle brushing of lips. "It's over."
He
groaned into her hair as she ran her fingers along the sensitive skin
of his sides as he st
straddled
her and pressed their hips together.
And sweet.....sweet surrender!
Is all that I have to give...
She
cried out softly as she pressed against him and he moved his mouth lower...
I don't understand...
How this touch of your hand.
Ohhhhh I would be the one to fall.
It
hit Ben suddenly as she responded so virulently how much he missed this,
how much he needed it. It had
been two and a half years and he was a man in his prime, he couldn't
let her go again...he couldn't.
I miss the little things
I miss the simple things
Oh I missed everything everything about
you.
With
every ounce of willpower she had left she force him off her and unceremoniously
removed his jeans. Then as she
moved back up their eyes met and they stared at each other as though
suspended in time. Neither wanting
to ever forget the moment.
It doesn't mean much...
Doesn't mean anything at all.
The life I left behind me is a cold room.
Now
robbed of any pretense or humor Ben gently rolled back atop her, framing
her face with his arms as he brushed her lips one last time with his
tongue and lost control.
Sweet...sweet surrender.
Is all that I have to give!
8:
MEMORIES TRAPPED IN TIME
"Nice
to know you still don't lock your doors." Victoria said with a smile as she walked into Ben's office.
"Old
habit." He replied with a smile as he moved from his desk and pulled
her into a hug.
She
returned it, falteringly: "What
was that wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am leave without a whisper thing this
morning?"
"Sorry,
I had to work and I didn't want to wake you." He leaned back slightly as he realized what she was wearing;
a knee length red silk evening dress and heels that nearly brought her
to his same height, her hair carefully gelled into place, and makeup
dark and sultry. His stomach twinged
as he realized she was planning something...
"Hmmm...well...I
might forgive you." She returned,
any seriousness the phrase might have held negated by the humor in her
voice.
"If?"
"You
take me to le fleur de leis." She
smiled impishly as she toyed with his collar; it was a highly coveted
French restaurant.
He
chuckled. "You drive a hard
bargain."
"Well?" She put on her innocent damsel-in-distress
look and ran her hands over his chest.
He was wearing his brown serge and it sent her hormones reeling.
Ben
stiffly cleared his throat separated himself from her, knowing full well
that if he didn't move they wouldn't be moving...for a long time. "I'll just...change into dress
uniform and...we'll go."
"
'Kay, I'll be downstairs." She
winked as she left his office and fairly skipped down into the foyer,
until she heard a familiar whine behind her. " Oh Dief..." She whispered her voice full of
guilt.
The
wolf tilted his head questioningly, the presence of his master's mate
putting his instincts on alert. He
whined again and took a hesitating step toward her. Remembering little from their last meeting but discomfort
and the vet.
"Dief..." Victoria murmured as she knelt and
carefully scratched between his ears.
"Thank you so much....so much."
Though
he couldn't remember the occasion that granted him the praise, Dief was
never one to turn aside a compliment.
He barked happily and licked at her face, wondering if there was
anything in the way of doughnuts in her purse..
The
moment ended suddenly as a skinny street-wise looking guy with spiky
blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and a nasty attitude walked in the front
door. Victoria virtually jumped
out of her skin and gasped as she reached for the gun usually at her
waist, and finding it not there.
Ray
stared for only an instant at the beautiful woman before him before his
mind opened the right file and he put a name to the face. In a split second and running off solid instinct he drew
his gun and yelled "FREEZE!!!"
Victoria
also switched to instinct and dropped to the floor just as a bullet whizzed
above her, smashing through the wall.
She screamed "FRASERR!!!" as she rolled toward him and
onto her feet, completing the maneuver by throwing a shoulder into his
stomach and flattening him against the wall. Then, again before he could respond, she spun with a deadly
accurate kick that threw the weapon from his hand.
Kowalski
yelled and jumped her like a dog in a fight, tackling her to the floor
and pinning her arms to her sides. She
quickly moved to draw her knees up between his legs but anticipated it
dug his knees into her thighs to hold her legs still. Having the advantage of weight he managed, barely, to hold
her as she screamed with pain struggled to get away.
All
of this transpired in a manner of seconds before Fraser barreled down
the stairway. The scene before him caught his mind between humor and
danger "It's okay Ray!" He called above the din of curses and
cries the two were making. "Let
her go!"
"Tell
'er to stop hittin' me!"
"Victoria
this is my partner, Ray Kowalski."
She
was far too preoccupied with the fact that her legs were being crushed
to Fraser's words. Finally, with
a burst of fight-or-die strength, she managed to wrench her hand away
from his grasp and land a solid punch to Ray's jaw. The force of the impact knocked him off-balance and consequently
off her legs which she promptly brought to her chest, mindless of the
unladylike posture.
"What
the hell's goin' on Fraser?" Ray
asked, incredulously as felt his jaw to see if it was broken.
"I
should think that would be rather obvious, Ray."
"Ray?" Victoria said, her perception beginning
to clear as the pain faded.
"Yes." Fraser pulled her into a sitting position. "He replaced Ray Vecchio..." The Mountie's voice trailed off as
he noticed her starting to tremble and gasp for air. "Victoria are you Alright?"
She
shook her head as a terrible weight settled on her chest and the blood
drained from her head. She struggled
for air in fast, short breaths and she grabbed her chest.
Fraser
immediately recognized the symptoms of a panic attack and put his arms
around her from behind, forcing her to sit straight and ease pressure
on the lungs. "Easy...easy,
breathe nice and slow..."
Ray
watched, baffled at the tenderness in Fraser's eyes and the concern in
his voice as he helped the woman that had just about killed him through
some sort of breathing seizure thing.
There was something sacred about it and even though his temper
seethed he kept silent.
The
attack gradually lessened its grip and Fraser let her go as her breathing
returned too normal. "Are
you taking medication for this?"
"Yes." She answered, her voice quiet, spent. "Some things can override it."
"Wait
a minute Fraser you knew she was here??"
"Yes."
"And
you haven't arrested her???!!!"
"I
can't, Ray. She's a federally
protected witness."
"What
the hell??????"
Ben
sighed and rubbed his temples.
"It's a long story..."
"I'm
sorry....Ray." She said his
name hesitantly. "I thought
you were...someone else."
"Yeah." The puzzle began to fit itself together
in the cop's head. "You got
proof you're a "witness"."
"You
know I can't carry that with me, but I have numbers..."
"Actually
she does, I called the agent in question myself...and a few others." Fraser interrupted.
Victoria
stood with a wince, pale and still visibly trembling. "You should tell him, Ben. I'm...I'm going to go lay down." She then limped toward the stairs and his office.
"Yer
just gonna let 'er up there alone?"
"Yes,
I'm sure she thought you were sent to kill her."
"Good
luck."
Fraser
cracked his neck as he turned to Ray, who still stood with his arms defiantly
crossed and face fixed in a look that could kill. A bruise had already begun to color along his jaw line and
he sighed. "How much did
the report tell you?"
"That
she was in the can for ten years for driving the getaway car in a robbery
or somethin' and you turned her in so she came back after she got out
and tried to take you and the other Ray down...said she killed her partner?"
Ben
nodded and set into the long and complicated explanation of her record
and what the record didn't say.
~
"So
you really believe this Frase?"
Ray asked much later, now sitting against the wall across from
Ben who was seated on the stairs.
"Yes....I
don't...I don't know how much I can trust her. She wasn't wholly innocent but..." He couldn't quite bring himself to state aloud the reason
he'd accepted her back into his life, couldn't quite bring himself to
admit he needed her. "She
doesn't have anywhere else to go."
Ray
could see through Fraser's words, but keeping his distance in the guy
way he let it drop. "How'd
ya find her anyway?"
There
was a hesitation before he spoke. "The
plane she escaped Alaska in crashed and I tracked her and her companion,
the pilot, from there. The pilot
deserted her but I continuously underestimated her survival abilities
and didn't catch up until a blizzard forced her to hole up on the lee
side of a mountain. I found her
there but by that time the storm had completely closed us in, so we kept each other alive over the next two days and nights. When the storm broke I arrested her
and it took us four days to get to the nearest outpost." He paused. "That last night we'd
camped just outside of the village..." He shifted uncomfortably. "You see I don't, I didn't, entirely
blame her for her...her anger, her need for vengeance when she returned. You see that night, after we...She
asked me to let her go. I couldn't...promise
that...as much as I wanted to. I
was still young and my head was full of the code of justice and duty,
so I convinced her of it...and promised that I'd do everything in my
power to help her." He swallowed. "She was imprisoned and expedited
quickly, the case having gained more than it's fair share of attention. That and my superiors looked down on
her as another corrupt American... they scared me off, and I never saw
her or made an effort to see her after I left her at the outpost."
"She
ever tell you why she helped what's-his-name with the robbery to begin
with?"
"No,
she's alluded to it. I know she
was living with him, Jolly at the time...and I know he was violent. She came from a very dysfunctional
family, her mother died in childbirth with her sister and her father
was an alcoholic fisherman who...used her...in more ways than one."
Kowalski
ran his fingers through his hair, which was already taking on a new stage
of experimentalism after the fight.
"What about Vecchio?"
"I
don't...think that would be prudent...just yet." Ben looked at him curiously, this being one of the few times
he'd actually ventured to mention the former Ray Vecchio. "He isn't much of one for forgiving, I'm afraid that
that meeting would end tragically before a word has been spoken."
He
smiled. "All right Frase. Now how you gonna explain that..."
he pointed to the bullet hole in the wall. "...to the Ice Queen?"
Ben
stood to see what his friend was gesturing at and gasped. "Oh....dear...."
"You
got any pictures or anything?"
"Yes!" Fraser dashed into Turnbull's office
and returned with a picture of the previous years' musical ride and a
countersink tack, and immediately began busying himself with mounting
the picture in the proper order of Mountie precision.
Ray
chuckled and turned for the door. "Be
careful Frase, K?"
"Wait,
Ray, what did you come to see me about?"
"Oh
just got a case thingy I wanted you to look at; it c'n wait. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Alright
goodbye, Ray..." Ben tilted
the picture one last time to check plumb, and with another satisfying
crack of the neck set up the stairs for what would undoubtedly be a long
night.
9: SEA OF WAKING DREAMS
February
3 :::Night:::
Tangled
in the white sheets of the hotel bed and bathed in the glow of candles,
Victoria proceeded to work the knots from Ben's shoulders and back with
deftly skilled hands. The room
was contentedly quiet save the occasional pleased groan Fraser emitted
as she administered to a particularly sore spot. As she finished and snuggled down beside him he simultaneously
covered them with the downy comforter and pulled her close to him, burying
his face in her hair as he slid his fingers between hers. "That was wonderful."
"Mmm." Her response was distant and quiet.
There
was a long space of quiet before he kissed her ear and timidly whispered. "I love you, Victoria."
The
phrase couldn't have come at a more in-opportune time, and Victoria tensed
as a flood of emotions ran though her, love, pleasure, fear, anger, ...pain.
Fraser
sensed the change and shifted gently to see her face, the eyes brimming
with tears. "What's wrong?"
She
exhaled violently, and inhaled with a sob as she pressed her forehead
onto his shoulder. "Too much
Fraser....too much." The
words were barely whispered as she fought for control.
Ben
strengthened his hold on her as he scolded himself for moving too fast. He past week had been a heaven he hadn't
known existed, and as usual he ruined it.
"I'm sorry."
"No!" She looked up quickly. "Not you,
it just...I don't know...the whole situation. It's too...perfect."
He
relaxed slightly. "I know..."
"I
guess...It's wonderful but too much because I know it can't last forever, and I'm so...afraid of it not..."
He
pressed his fingers to her lips.
"Shhhh...don't think about that Victoria. Don't let yourself think...just...feel."
His
words settled her a little. As
she settled back into his arms Fraser found the opportunity to ask the
question that had been burning in his mind for twelve years: "Victoria I don't, I need to understand...Why did you
go along with Jolly?
"You
mean...with the robbery?"
"Yes."
She
sighed. "You sure you want
to know?"
"Yes."
She
bit her lip. "I have always
wanted to be an artist, since I was a little girl. But that meant college, which was never an option in our
house. So I got in with a scholarship
but that doesn't pay for tuition, room and board...I had to get a side
job but what they don't tell you about getting a full scholarship is
that you have to take classes and retain a GPA that eats 12 to 14 hours
out of your day." Her mind went blank as it always did at this point,
the humiliation and self-hatred the memory induced wiping it clean.
"Tell
me..." He pleaded gently. "I'll understand."
"Ben
you don't..." She sighed. "A friend told me about a strip
club she worked for and thought I'd...do well...she set up an audition. I was hired and it paid incredibly
well for what little work I had to do.
I gradually became a sort of...commodity; and was surviving. But then Natalie left home and started
getting in trouble...My landlord knew what I was doing and would show
up at the club sometimes, he absolutely repulsed me but he tipped well
and always offered more if I'd go out with him. I couldn't find another place for the same price so I dealt
with it. Then Natalie came to me needing help. I couldn't see another option so I
asked him what he wanted and what he'd pay...and we worked out a deal." Didn't matter what the provocation,
she couldn't say aloud what the terms of the deal were.
"You
really loved her didn't you."
"Who?"
"Your
sister."
"Yes...she
was all I had. Jolly never counted
what I did for him against my debt. So
when he came to me with his robbery idea in need a good evasive driver
and claiming I owed him upwards of 50 grand I had little choice. I didn't know Ed well, he did business
with Jolly, but I think he kind of took pity on me...which is part of
why he risked what he
did...afterwards."
She
related this in the same detached tone she reverted to whenever recalling
something particularly painful.
The
story tugged at Ben's heart, despite being over-emotional and his voice
showed this in the underlying pain. "Why
didn't you tell me before?"
She
bit her bottom lip. "I didn't
want you to think...I was..."
"I
would have understood..."
"No
you wouldn't, Fraser. You know
that."
He
stared at the window, knowing she was right, and hating himself all the
more for it. "That fact aside,
I'm not one to repeat my mistakes."
"Mistake?" Victoria lifted her head to meet his
eyes, dark and snapping with desire; and before she could respond he
engulfed her in a powerful kiss.
February
5 :::Night:::
Stars
glittered off the gently rolling waves of Lake Michigan as the air snapped
with the clear night's cold. Victoria
and Fraser, both more or less oblivious to the chill, walked along the
icy, deserted beach. "Reminds
me of Ninilchik." She said
wistfully.
"Homesick?"
"Not
really...I don't miss the memories."
She smiled. "But I
miss the beauty, I always wanted to capture it in paint but after I went
to Anchorage I never made it back."
"Some..." The blast of a gunshot cut him off.
Victoria
dove toward Fraser in a split-second reaction, sending them both to the
ground. Another bullet whizzed
overhead as he whispered "trees" and they began crawling toward
them. The attacker emptied a round
above and around them before they reached the shelter of the small forest
that surrounded that side of the lake. "Jesus." She whispered as they slid behind a thicket of willow. She turned to Ben, and noticed that
he was holding his arm. "Oh
god! You're hit!"
He
shrugged. "Flesh wound, did
you see him?"
"No...." She had an inkling of who it was but
the prospect was too horrifying for her to fully admit it yet. The bullet, from the first shot, had
entered his arm at an angle from the back, just barely missing the bone
and exiting through the other side.
"Dammit." She
muttered as she ripped off a piece of his undershirt and tenderly wrapped
it around the wounds.
"Shhhh." He whispered as a twig snapped not
far along the trail they'd just followed.
Victoria
carefully unholstered her gun and released the safety as her eyes struggled
to see through the darkness of a moonless night. Another twig snapped, at what couldn't have been 50 feet
away and she shook her head just as a
bullet tore through the thicket a few feet beside them. "He must have info-red goggles." She whispered in Fraser's ear. "I can't see a damn thing."
He
nodded and gestured toward the parking lot a few hundred yards away and
then to her gun.
She
nodded and handed him her keys before shooting into the blackness before
them. The assassin returned fire
but as she moved constantly in an elusive pattern from tree to tree he
couldn't manage a direct shot. However
with each firing of his weapon Victoria could hear the direction it was
coming from thus increasing her accuracy and conserve what precious ammunition
she carried. It took less than
three minutes to cover the distance to the parking lot, though it felt
more like an eternity in hell. Gradually
they reached her car, and she peeled out onto the road.
She
constantly watched her mirror and gripped the wheel with white-knuckled
hands as she sped along the winding highway. Within ten minutes they reached a small slumbering town
and she parked inconspicuously at the backside of a gas station. Without missing a beat she shifted
and started to pull at his ruined pea coat. "Here, let me get a decent look at that." She said, her voice small with barely
contained tears.
"It's
all right." He assured her
as he shrugged off his coat.
"No
it's not all right Fraser." She argued as she helped him. "I just about killed you again, I'm stupid, reckless,
selfish, and...
He
cut her off with a short, tender kiss.
"It's all right, Victoria."
"Don't...don't." She bit her lip and shook her head
as she uncovered the blood-soaked tunic of his uniform. With a strong jerk at the button edge of his sleeve she
tore it up the arm, exposing the wound completely. The bullet had been small, 9 mm at most, making the entry
wound a minor blip, but the exit had tore through muscle and opened a
hole the size of a quarter on the upper side of the arm. It bled profusely and she quickly stripped off the layers
of her clothing, using a turtleneck to clean up what she could and the
undershirt as a fresh compress.
Fraser
watched in a kind of fascination at the dance of erotic compassion she
was performing It was enough to
almost make him forget the pain but as she re-bandaged it he couldn't
help but cry out as he seemed to feel it down to his toes.
"You
need to get to a hospital."
"No.."
"Don't
argue Fraser, that's not going to stop bleeding without stitches and
I don't know what the bullet was made of..." She quickly re-dressed herself and pulled back onto the
road. "If we take the highway
we should get there in an hour...hang on for me okay?"
"Look
Victoria as much as I appreciate this you can't be seen in such a..."
"Shut
up okay? Just shut up. I know...and I don't care."
The
edge to her voice scared him and he grudgingly kept quiet during what
would prove to be one of the longest rides of his life.
10) STILL WATERS RUN DEEP
February
3 :::Late Night:::
Victoria
leaned against the wall of the phone booth as she silently prayed her party would pick up.
The
shrill buzz of a phone interrupted Stan in the midst of what had been
a wonderful Stella-dream. He tried
to ignore it, clinging to the dream desperately but at the fourth ring
he jerked up and answered it with an irritated. "What?"
"Ray?"
"Yeah?" The voice was familiar, and as the
cobwebs cleared from his mind he placed it and sat straight up. "If you hurt him I'll kill you,
I swear to god I'll kill you."
"Ray
please, we were attacked out of nowhere, I'm sorry I didn't see it..."
"I
knew it, where is he?" Kowalski
was all ready getting dressed.
"He's
with the doctor right now." She
swallowed. "He was hit in
the arm..."
"
'N they didn't hit you eh?"
"No,
the first shot hit Fraser and we ran from there..."
"You
expect me to believe that???"
"Yes,
Ray please. I know who it was
and he's dangerous."
"So
are you, I shouldn't have listened to Fraser..."
"Look
Ray I need your help, I don't want risk anyone else's life in this but
if I have to I will. I know this
guy though, I recognized the firing pattern...he...he found me for Zuko
before."
"Firing
pattern? What the hell?"
"I
shot him between the legs Ray, he has a personal vendetta against me
which means he's going to go after you and Fraser too."
He
hesitated, if she was telling the truth it had the potential to be a
very serious situation, but if not he could be walking into a trap...
"Where are you?"
"County
General ER."
"I'll
be there in fifteen minutes." He
slammed the phone down and walked out.
~
Ray
entered the ER waiting room expecting nothing, but when he caught sight
of Fraser and Victoria he sighed with relief. The drive to the hospital had calmed him considerably, and
he hadn't been looking forward to bringing her down. In fact, as he watched her fret over Fraser like an obnoxious
something softened inside him and he loudly walked over to them
"Ray!" Ben exclaimed in obvious surprise.
Victoria
willingly offered and explanation. "I
called him, I have a plan."
"I
take it you recognized him then."
He offered.
"Yes,
the firing pattern was the same as the guy Frank hired to find me, or
the only one to succeed. He's
known as The Needle because he's ruthless, crafty, kills without blinking,
and is harder to find than a needle in a haystack; and I removed what
makes him a man."
Fraser's
eyes widened.
"I
survived ten months with the best and worst of both worlds after me,
you can't think I gave in without a fight."
He
shook his head, remembering all to well the Victoria he'd found a year
ago.
"How
bad is it?" Ray asked, gesturing
to the bandage on Ben's arm.
"Flesh
wound." The Mountie refused
to let it be an issue.
"Okay
we don't have a lot of time here or things will start to look suspicious. I have two choices, either run to the
cops and he'll disappear until the chase has died down and then return
to finish the job...and believe me he learns from his mistakes. Or I can lie low until I think he's
left and then leave Chicago for one of the many hiding places in the
world, and he'll simply wait me out and follow me there."
"The
FBI..." Ben went to say.
"No,
this man is evil, Frank's silent right-hand man. He's killed more people than you know and isn't going to
stop until someone stops him; but
the only way we're going to do that is to beat him at his own game. Now the good news is he's obviously
frenzied with revenge to go after someone who knows so much about him. I'm sure missing me tonight wasn't
an option on his planbook."
"So
what ya' thinkin'?" Ray asked.
"Something
like this..."
February
4 :::Early Morning:::
The
dream was vivid and horribly real. She
was in Kuala Lampur again, watching Needle
walk toward her but as she went to run she found she couldn't move her
feet. Panic gripped at her throat
as she tried to remember where she'd put her gun. The crowd all turned to face her at
once and they all had Zuko's face. She
screamed as the ground began to move.
"Come with me..." She
heard and looked to her side to see Ben running toward her just as The
Needle leveled his gun. She screamed
again as he pulled the trigger...
Victoria
sat up with a gasp, struggling to breathe as the nightmare faded away.
She turned to Fraser, who she gratefully hadn't awakened. The pain pills must have been strong as the comforter had
nearly slid off him completely. As
she went to pull them up her eyes caught the ugly round scar that stood
out from the pale perfection of the rest of his back. She'd seen it before but hadn't let it bother her as there
was usually something else at hand...but now as she already was besieged
by guilt it hurt her anew...her life was a walking war, she thought with
a frustrated sigh.
Winter here's cold
And bitter
It's chilled us to the bone...
The
high-pitched wail of a police siren temporarily filled the silence of
the room as Victoria swung out of bed.
The rush of adrenaline she'd been running off of all night gradually
giving way to an all too familiar depression.
I haven't seen the sun for weeks.
Too long,
Too far from home.
How
could she have been so blind? So
stupid as to think he wouldn't be hurt too? Mechanically she swallowed her pills, knowing they wouldn't
help when out of no-where the memory monster attacked.
"You must really hate me, for what
I did."
"Hate,
Love, those to emotions pretty much cover it."
"What
aren't you telling me?"
"Nothing..."
"What
aren't you telling me!"
"Jolly's
out..."
"You
son of a bitch you set me up I should have shot you!"
"I
should have let you go."
"Well
you're going to now."
"I
can't....I can't....I can't..."
I feel just like I'm sinking
And I claw for solid ground.
I'm pulled down by the undertow.
Never thought I could feel so low.
She
stood up as her soul constricted with pain.
Oh darkness I feel like letting go.
How
much can the human heart endure? She
wondered, feeling slightly nauseous. Why can't something, anything, for
once in her life be easy? Then,
out of nowhere, she found herself praying. A marvel of it's own in that she'd given up on god years
before.
With
all of your strength
And all of your courage
Come and lift me from this place.
She
turned to Ben, his ever-peaceful form bathed in the ethereal glow of
city darkness.
I know I can love you much better than
this.
Full of grace...
Your full of grace...
My love.
No
she had to leave, her presence was a danger to anyone around her. She was
a walking pariah.
It's better this way
I say
Having seen this place before...
He'd
tried to convince her that it wasn't necessary but deep down they both
knew it wasn't a matter of choice.
Where everything we say
And
do.
Hurts
us all the more.
It's just that we've stayed
Too long,
In the same old sickly skin.
Her
hand went to her heart as she walked to the window, she'd brought this
on him with no one to blame but herself.
An ugly, horrifying truth she didn't think she could bear to live
with.
I'm pulled down by the undertow
Never thought I could feel so low.
Oh darkness I feel like letting go!
Almost
as though bidden by a supernatural force, Ben woke to see her silhouetted
against the window. Holding her
chest and bent as she was made her look pitifully old and broken, and
all at once he knew why. "It's
okay Victoria." He said softly
as he stood up.
His
voice startled her but didn't fail to convey it's meaning. "I know."
"It's
okay..."
She
started to shake her head as her eyes again filled with tears.
He
drew her into his embrace with an unprecedented tenderness as he continued
to whisper. "It's okay...it's
okay..."
Her
will broke with a gut-wrenching sob and he lightly rubbed her back as
she let go and years of pent-up pain washed forth in a torrent of emotion.
The
force of it rocked Fraser while at the same time filling a hole in himself
he didn't know existed. Without
being able to completely put his finger on it he knew, without a doubt,
that things would never be quite the same between them again.
11) I WON'T FEAR LOVE
February 8 :::Morning:::
Victoria paced the room, tense with worry, as Fraser, dressed for guard duty, watched her from the bed.
"I can't do this anymore Ben."
"Let's hope you won't have to."
She shook her head and resumed her pacing just as a light knock sounded from the door that led to the adjacent room. She nearly cried out with relief as she opened it to find a stout elderly man in a suit. "Thank God!" Victoria exclaimed as she stepped forward to hug him.
"Good to see you too Victoria." He said with a chuckle, returning the embrace.
"Fraser this is Special Agent Tyler. You might say he took me under his wing when I was transferred to DC."
"I see." Ben extended his hand. "Pleasure to meet you sir."
"And you son, you got quite the gift here."
Ben turned the same color as his uniform and Victoria deftly changed the subject. "So Ford let you in on things?"
"Yes, little squirt didn't have a choice; the higher-ups know the Zuko bust is mine."
"Everything's gone according to plan then."
"If that's what Detective Vecchio gave us yes." He stepped inside his room and returned with a large briefcase. "Everything you need and need to know is there, destroy the tapes and the player after you're done listening. But don't open it while Mr. Fraser is still here, it too dangerous to let him know the details."
Ben shifted uncomfortably, still finding the idea of leaving Victoria to risk her life alone almost more than he could bear. But he understood the strategy, and frankly had no choice.
"The train will leave this evening, and every 'passenger' will be enforcement of one sort or another. We aren't leaving anything to chance."
She nodded.
"I gotta get going. The more time I spend in here the less ambiguity this meeting has. I'll see you tonight, let's pray under better circumstances."
Victoria nodded again, afraid of her voice while Fraser said his goodbye. As the door slowly closed they turned to each other. "I guess you have to go now."
He nodded, a lump forming in his throat.
His eyes were innocent light blue they turned when he was distressed. "I'm going to be okay..." She wished she could make herself believe it more, if anything for his sake.
He stepped forward suddenly, placing his hands on either side of her face as he guided her into a gentle but deep kiss, imprinting the moment permanently in his brain. The kiss seemed to go on forever until he finally forced himself to pull away. In a voice hoarse with emotion he dropped his hands and whispered "Be careful, Victoria."
"I will."
He couldn't look at her as he stepped slowly, and then faster away and out of the room.
February 8 :::Late Night:::
An odd mixture of peace and apprehension filled Victoria as she walked into the train station that held so many memories. She hadn't noticed anyone following her as she'd walked from the hotel but she knew The Needle could rarely be recognized. The platform was virtually vacant, it being close to midnight...a perfect spot for ambush. The ticket-holder smiled at her as she asked for passage on the 12:15 to Indianapolis. "Awfully late for a lady like you to be out." It was code for the coast is clear. She smiled back, signaling that she understood.
The experience was new to her, actually trying to get shot at; and taking her time as she walked across the platform to the ladies room made her feel more than a little like a rat in a trap. Though strangely nothing happened. As she stepped inside and into one of the stalls she looked simultaneously at the heating shaft and custodian's closet where she knew agents were waiting inside, just barely making out a movement behind the louvers.
He didn't come, and Victoria began to earnestly fear that he wouldn't as she pretended to be flustered and run to the train. As she boarded she shook her head, signaling that she hadn't seen anything to the other agents in the car that posed as passengers. She searched each of the five faces, not recognizing any of them, and tensely took her seat near the back. One of the officers, a tall Norwegian with white-blonde hair and more freckles than skin stood and walked toward her, thinking that he had a message she moved to shift over just as he lunged and in one smooth movement had her arms pinned in a one handed grip and wrenched her to her feet.. She heard a signature click even before she felt the circle of cold steel pressed to her temple. In an instant she knew was a dead woman.
Within seconds the other men had their weapons drawn, one of them yelling "FREEZE!."
"Guns on the floor or she dies."
It was Needle all right, she could have recognized that voice anywhere...it haunted her dreams. Victoria didn't struggle and stood limply still. "Go ahead guys, my life isn't worth yours." She winked, begging them with her eyes to comply. She knew not only would he kill her but also in a round of shots he'd finish the rest of the men in the compartment and everyone else he ran into until he'd reached his waiting mode of escape.
Blessedly they understood and obeyed, even as he told them to move into the next car, and then guided her off the other side of the platform. "Thought you could outsmart me didn't ya?" He growled in her ear. "I have to hand it to ya it was quite the crafty little plot, but you forgot one of the key rules in this business dear."
She shook her head. "The man in the waiting room."
"Smart girl, too bad you couldn't choose your loyalties."
"All right so you kill me, then what? What have you accomplished? You know life means very little to me now."
"Oh I'm not gonna kill ya, not yet. I've got better plans."
A new terror gripped as the outer-group of officers saw them and went to fire. In a matter of seconds all six were down or dying but during the rapid fire-fight her captor had to shift his position, slightly, but enough for her to wiggle her arm and free a knife to slide into her fingers.
He now fired repeatedly in his customary five shot five pattern as he worked them up the stairs. No one tried to follow in such a contained space and as they reached the sidewalk he rapidly turned around, taking her with him.
A car stood before them, it's back door open, and she took a deep breath as she let the knife slide down so he was holding the handle.
He released her arms as he went to shove her into the car.
She whirled, knocking the gun from his hand as she stabbed the knife into his back just below the shoulder blade.
He grunted as the impact sent him sprawling onto the sidewalk, and looked at her as she recuperated the gun and smiled.
Not know what it meant she closed her eyes and fired. There is about a 60 second reprieve from the time you kill someone until the horror of what you've done hit's you. She kept her eyes closed during those seconds until her stomach started to churn. Gradually she opened them to see what was left of his skull spattered over the rapidly growing pool of dark on the sidewalk...and barely made it to the snow bank before she threw up.
12) COLD COMFORT
February 9 :::Extremely early morning:::
For once Fraser actually encouraged Ray as he recklessly ran red lights and broke speed limits. All Ford would tell them was that things hadn't gone according to plan and there had been casualties. 'If one of 'em's her it's gonna kill 'im." Kowalski thought as stole a glance at Ben. He looked like he couldn't decide whether to faint, puke, or cry. "She's gonna be okay Frase."
"I didn't get a chance to make it up to her..."
"Make up what?"
"Everything...she's been though. What I put her through."
"Hey look I really don't know much about what happened ya know? But it looked to me like you'd made it up to her and some more. You didn't have anything to make up."
Fraser rubbed his eyes with one hand as the other clutched his hat.. "Oh god Ray..."
"Frase don't go there, we don't know yet."
Soon, but not nearly soon enough they reached the hullabaloo of flashing lights and people outside the train station. Bright yellow crime scene tape skirted the area and a young officer headed them off as they tried to cross under it. Ray flashed him his badge without a word as he shoved him aside. An ambulance was parked about fifty feet from the west side exit and Fraser broke into a run. Just in front of the exit a black Mercedes was parked, and on the concrete next to it the medical examiner was just zipping up a body bag next to a huge pool of blood with bone fragments and something else near the top. The Mountie stopped, on the edge of a heart attack, and opened his mouth to find he couldn't form words.
Ray reached the scene right behind him and stopped short. "Who???" He barely managed to spit out, gesturing to the dark pool.
"The mob guy. What do you guys have to do with this?" The field ME asked.
Fraser gasped as he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "The woman is..."
"Victoria's a friend of his." Ray finished.
"Really? I guess the FBI set up some kind of entrapment scheme with her but somehow this guy got the details and killed and disguised himself as one of their agents. He tried to make off with her but she killed him before he could get her in the car. He didn't know she had a knife and she finished the job with his gun...unfortunate for him he was using black widows...."
Ray realized what the bone and other stuff was and gagged.
Ben nearly cried with relief. "Where is she?"
"I think the director's got her in his car. Hey Jack!" She yelled to a uniformed officer nearby. "Where'd they put Metcalfe woman?"
"The director went off with her up at the parking lot that way." He pointed to the backside of the building but Fraser had already taken off.
~
Victoria drifted in and out of a disturbed sleep. The car wasn't much in terms of comfort and she was still suffering from the after-shocks of adrenaline. She'd just drifted off again when hard footfalls outside woke her up. The windows had fogged over so she had to open the door get out to see what was going on, and nearly collided with Fraser.
It only took him a second to react and he hauled her into his arms; managing only a strangled "Victoria" tilted his face into the soft fragrant curls of her hair.
She slid her hands in his coat and around his back, seeking comfort in his warmth.
"Are you okay?" He asked at length.
She nodded, unable to speak as she tightened her hold.
Ray cleared his throat behind them. "Uh, you guys wanna ride home?"
"Do you have to stay?" Fraser asked into her hair.
She moved nothing but her head in an eager "no".
"Yes, Ray, I...we would."
" 'K I'll bring the GTO around..."
As soon as he was out of earshot Ben whispered. "They told us things hadn't gone according to plan and there had been casualties." His voice strained. "I thought...I couldn't imagine." It finally cracked. "I love you."
She sniffed against his shoulder and held him closer, if that was in any way possible. "You know why I had to do this Ben, I'm sorry."
They stood the rest of the time in silence, just holding each other. Fraser would later liken it to coming home after a long and harrowing journey. Nothing more to do or say, no more bridges to cross, just peace and contented quiet.
February 10 :::Evening:::
"You never told me what happened to the real Ray Vecchio." Victoria asked over the remains of their Chinese take-out.
Ben hesitated, then forced himself to move beyond his distrust. "A well known member the Iguana branch of the mob was killed during an FBI raid, Ray bore a striking resemblance to him and was offered to go deep undercover to personify the individual. Stanley Kowalski came in as his replacement."
"Stanley Kowalski?" She giggled. "Stella.....STELLAAAA!!!!"
"Apparently his father had a 'thing for Brando'. Ironically, his ex-wife was also named Stella."
"So if he's masquerading as Vecchio shouldn't he be driving that Green thing?"
"Well....errr....umm......"
"Oh god you didn't..."
"Yes, it's resting peacefully in a very protected dock off the Lake they call Michigan."
She busted out laughing. "You mean RUSTING peacefully...He's gonna kill you two when he gets back."
"He is, I'm afraid...I can only hope that after the first few blows he'll listen to reason." He joined in on the laugher.
She watched spellbound as his face lit up, Fraser was never much in the way of humor but when he did laugh he glowed. "You guys look like your getting along pretty well. For as opposite as you are...I mean at least you and Ray had something in common."
"Well there's more to him than he leads on. Things have gone quite well between us, discounting the incident about the transfers..."
"You got a transfer notice and didn't take it?"
He looked at her a little puzzled. "Yes, the Canadian government tries to frequently transfer their Consular staff...lest they become to 'Americanized' and loose their objective. The option comes around every four to six months."
The cogs of Victoria's brain instantly started turning as she began to say a way out of the terrible mess they were in. Over the past two days they'd lived in a sort of suspended reality, neither willing to face the ugliness of the truth that she had to leave...and soon.
February 12 :::Early Morning:::
With a heavy heart and a sigh Victoria looked at the slumbering man beside her. She'd tried to work up the courage to tell him she was leaving, but just couldn't bring herself to it. She couldn't bear the goodbyes...or worse trying to convince him that leaving was the right thing. So she carefully dressed in silence and pulled her bags from the closet. She'd written a note the day before and left it in the depression her body had made on the bed along with the little soap sled-dog she'd taken that horrible night three years ago. But just for good measure she read the note again:
Dear Ben,
I'm sorry I had to leave this way but we both know we couldn't have followed through with it any other way. I can't tell you exactly where I've gone but I can say that next time you are given the offer of a transfer take it, and ask to go home. The north misses you Ben and I'll miss you along with it.
I hope you understand how much I appreciate your forgiving me. You've given me reason to live, and for that I am, and will be, eternally grateful.
Good luck and take care of yourself love,
Victoria
An unwarranted tear trickled off her cheek and onto the paper, smearing the ink of her name. She stared at him then, memorizing every last facet of his peaceful and sleep-rumpled face before dipping to kiss him on the forehead. "Don't forget me." She whispered into the darkness as she carefully and quietly closed the door.
THE END
Feedback is most welcome, appreciated, begged for, and can be sent to juniperberry_2002@yahoo.com Thanks for reading and I hope that if I haven't changed your mind I've at least given you food for thought.