Date: Thu, 15 Apr 1999 21:17:31 -0600 (MDT) From: "Katherine R. Freymuth" Subject: Vengeance - Chapter 8 Message-ID: Chapter 8 It was late by the time Al returned to his home in Stallion Springs via taxi. He was pleased to find that Beth had followed his instructions and left the lights and the radio on in the house before leaving. He, therefore, went through the house, shutting off everything so that it would look as if the house was calling it a day. Having finished the house rounds, he went into his bedroom to find it surprisingly barren without Beth there. He slowly started to undress, taking out his military service pistol and some bullets as he did so. His jacket, vest, and shirt having been removed, he began to load his pistol's cartridge with the bullets. It was a moment before Al could register the pain in his shoulder and the bullet hole in his bedroom window. It was the force of the bullet hitting his left shoulder and knocking him to the floor that made him realize that someone somewhere outside was sniping at him. He clutched his arm in pain and looked about while staying on his back. His pistol was still on the bed, where he had left it. The cartridge was a couple of feet away from his left foot and the bullets he had been loading into it were scattered about the room. Al winced in pain as he quickly reached for the cartridge, staying as close to the floor as he could. With the cartridge in his right hand, he crawled to the other side of the bed. As he did so, he heard the crash of glass downstairs. Someone was breaking into the house. Al had to hurry. He quickly reached up onto the bed and grabbed his pistol. When the intruder kicked open Al's bedroom door, he found the room empty at first glance. He slowly entered the room. As he did so, he saw the feet peeking from the other side of the bed. He slowly walked towards the bed, loading his pistol's barrel as he did so. He smiled as he came around the bed. He had the bastard now! He stopped with bewilderment. What he had at first thought was a pair of legs was actually a pair of stuffed slacks and empty shoes. There was a click. He felt something at the back of his head. "Put the gun on the bed," Al told him. "Slowly." He did as he was told, not moving any more than he absolutely had to. "Good," Al said. "Put your hands on your head and slowly step backwards away from the bed." Again, the intruder did as he was told, Al stepping backwards in synchronicity with him. Finally, once they were in the middle of the room, Al ordered him to stop. "Get on your knees," Al told him as he grabbed one of Beth's scarves from the top of the dresser behind him. The intruder obeyed just before Al put his pistol on the floor temporarily and tied the intruder's hands and feet together with the scarf. He then regained his pistol and took the ski mask off of the intruder's head. The removal of the mask revealed a young man, no more than eighteen years old, with blond hair and green eyes. Al had never seen him before yet there was something about the man's eyes that was frighteningly familiar. "Okay," Al said as he walked to the bed and sat down. He looked at his bleeding shoulder to discover that it desperately needed bandaging. He exhaled, looking at his prisoner again. "We are going to play a little game of twenty questions while I dress this bullet wound you've given me." He walked slowly to the bathroom, taking his pistol with him. "One: who the hell are you? Two: why the hell are you trying to kill me?" He quickly wetted a washcloth and grabbed some gauze pads from the bathroom. He returned to the bedroom to find his prisoner struggling with his bonds. Al raised his pistol at the prisoner and shook his head. "Not a good idea," he warned. The prisoner stopped his struggle. Al nodded, sitting down again. He put his pistol by his side and started dressing the wound. "Well?" he asked. The prisoner exhaled. "Listen, I'm just a hireling." "Then, who hired you?" Al asked. The prisoner hesitated. "I can't tell you. He'd kill me." Al raised his eyebrows. "So you'd rather take all the blame than to get police protection." The prisoner swallowed nervously. "You don't understand. I'm completely under his power. I'm up to my forehead in debts to him. If you don't die, I die. If I talk, I die. My only chance is to keep quiet." "So you think you'd be safer in a prison," Al supposed. The prisoner shook his head. "He'd find me even there but at least I might live a little longer while he tried to get to me." Al thought for a moment. It was obvious that this kid before him was terrified more of the person that hired him than he was of being in prison. "Okay," Al conceded as he finished bandaging his wound. "Maybe you can tell me why this guy wants me dead." The blond shook his head. "I don't know but he definitely hates you." He hesitated. "Look, I don't care what he has against you. I just want to be free of him." Al looked at him with raised eyebrows. Something didn't feel quite right about this kid. He wasn't sure what it was. Al wasn't sure he believed what the kid was telling him. The kid was definitely hiding something. He gave the blond a patient smile. "What's your name, kid?" The man didn't answer. "You don't do this for a living, do you?" Al said more than asked. The man looked at him. "How could you tell?" Al touched his wounded shoulder. "A professional would have killed me with the first shot." He winced slightly. "Still, you've got pretty good aim." The man laughed cynically. "Are you going to call the police or keep me tied up in your bedroom?" Al took a breath. "Actually, I was thinking of letting you go." The man looked at Al with curiosity. "Why?" "Because I can tell you're not going to talk and I'd rather have the guy that hired you than you. Besides, it'll give you the chance to skip the country and get away from this nozzle." He took a breath. "What do you say, kid? You tell me who hired you and I'll let you go." The man didn't answer. Al exhaled. He looked at the man again. The man was definitely just a kid, about Christy's age. How did he ever get involved in something like this? "Okay, kid. If that's the way you want it." He picked up the phone and called the police. The two waited in silence as the police came and arrested the would-be assassin. Not once did the man tell anyone who had hired him. Sam found himself standing at attention before the white-haired gentleman who had found him and Dan sneaking away. He briefly glances at Dan, who was obviously very nervous. "Well, gentlemen? Do you want to explain what this is all about?" the man asked, his green eyes focusing on Dan's eyes and then on Sam's. The moment Sam's eyes met the man's, Sam once again got the feeling that he knew this person. "It's my fault, sir," Dan said firmly. "I wanted to go into town. Mr. Stark was attempting to bring me back to the barracks." The man looked at Sam firmly. "Is this true?" "Yes, sir," Sam answered briefly, a know growing in his stomach. He had a terrible feeling that something very wrong was about to happen. This man obviously had a lot of power over these mercenaries, enough power, in fact, to frighten them into obedience. The man was obviously thinking about what he was told when Major Taylor came into the room, tying a sash around her waist to secure her robe. "What's going on, Al?" she asked, startling Sam with the name. She looked at Sam and Dan and understanding filled her eyes. "Carroll and Stark, the two bad boys. What did they do now?" The white-haired man gave a wry smile. "According to Carroll, he was going AWOL and Stark was trying to stop him." Taylor smiled incredulously. "I don't believe it!" "What part don't you believe, Major?" the man asked. "I don't believe Stark would try to prevent anyone from going AWOL, General," Taylor answered. *I should have made the connection before!* Sam thought. He realized he was standing before none other than General Albert Whitefeather Burke. Burke exhaled, examining Sam with intense eyes. "Neither do I," he finally said, a growl in his voice. He took a step towards them. "Gentlemen, you know how I feel about AWOLs. This isn't acceptable conduct." Sam glanced at Dan. Dan looked absolutely terrified. "Sir," Dan said, hiding his fear. "I swear that what I told you is the truth. I agree that Mr. Stark's actions were uncharacteristic but Mr. Stark has shown an innate ability to tell what is the best to do. I did not listen to him, despite his stern warnings." Burke hadn't moved his eyes from Sam. He was scrutinizing him so intensely, Sam wondered if he could see past Harry's aura and see the real him. "What made you follow Carroll out of the barracks?" Burke finally asked. Sam hesitated. "It seemed like the right thing to do, sir." Burke huffed. "The right thing to do?" "Yes, sir," Sam replied. "Bullshit," Burke told him with a glare. He took a step away from Dan and Sam and looked at them with authority. "Lieutenant Carroll, I believe that what you have said is the truth as you see it. However, going AWOL is a very serious offense. Since you want to be up all night, you will be. You will stand exactly where you are until dawn and then you will drill with the rest of your team. Is that clear?" Dan glared at him. "This isn't the military, General. You can't make me stay here all night." Burke raised his eyebrows. "I can if you want me to forget what I saw in New Orleans. What will it be, Dan? Me or the New Orleans mob?" Seriousness crossed Dan's face. He swallowed slightly. "I will stand here, sir," he said with fearful conviction. Burke nodded. "Good." He looked at Sam. "As for you, Stark, I dislike liars more than I dislike AWOLs. This is your last chance to tell me the truth before I pass sentence on you as well. What were you doing out of the barracks after Taps?" Sam looked at him in the eyes. "I haven't lied to you, General. I left the barracks to prevent Lieutenant Carroll from going AWOL." Burke exhaled in frustration. He looked at Taylor. "Take Stark into the other room while I finish my business with Carroll. I'll be with you shortly." Taylor exhaled. She motioned Sam to follow. Sam obeyed, unsure what exactly was happening. "Ensign," Taylor said when she and Sam were out of the room. "If you are telling the truth, it probably would have been better if you had lied." Sam frowned at her words as he was led down a carpeted hallway and into a large barren room. There, he and Taylor waited for Burke in silence.