Orin Travis knew the two men were feigning sleep and wished there was something he could say or do to ease their minds. The problem was there'd been no news since Jackson had called several hours ago. He took out his cell phone, not surprised to find there were no new calls and walked to the window.
"Orin."
The name was said softly, but it was enough to alert both injured men that they were no longer alone. Vin and Ezra were both awake and raising the heads of their beds as Jackson entered the room.
"Tell me ya found ‘em," Tanner said, rubbing at the area around the chest tube.
"We found them, Vin, but Chris is hurt..."
"Where the hell is he?"
"He's downstairs, Vin, and right now there's nothing you can do to help him. Dr. Midland and Dr. Simmons are in there with him and they're doing everything they can for him," Jackson explained.
"What the hell happened to him and where's JD?" Tanner asked, moaning as the quick move set off a spark of agony in his chest.
"Vin, you need to calm down..."
"I am calm, Orin..."
"Vin, Chris and JD took a slight detour and wound up in a little town called Providence. The place is so small it's not even on the maps, but it caught the attention of a cultist named Father John," Jackson explained.
"Do go on, Nathan," Standish said.
"I don't know how long Father John's been in Providence, but he managed to gather all the young people and ‘brainwashed them into believing he was the second coming," Jackson spat. "The Feds are there now and they're trying to make sense of the whole thing. Buck and Josiah stayed behind to see if they could help get the kids back to their families."
"Ya still ain't said shit ‘bout JD," Tanner snarled.
"JD was the right age, Vin...somehow he fell under Father John's spell. We haven't figured it all out yet," Jackson said deliberately leaving out Dunne's role in Larabee's injuries.
"How was Chris injured?" Travis asked.
"We don't know the whole story, but I'd expect it was because he didn't fit into Father John's view of the perfect followers. He wasn't in the right age demographic..."
"Now you sound like those stupid TV executives who think they should go after a certain age group," Standish griped.
"How bad?" Tanner asked.
"Broken leg...knife wound. Probably more, but we won't know until the docs are done with him. I'm heading back, but I'll let you know as soon as there's any news," Jackson assured them.
"We'll be here," Travis said and turned with arms folded across his chest as Vin and Ezra lay back on their beds. He knew they were frustrated and angry at being confined to their beds, and silently prayed the nursing staff would not have to resort to giving them something to keep them from doing anything stupid. It was his job to make sure they stayed put and he'd damn well do that if it meant sitting on them.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
The people of Providence looked shell-shocked when the authorities had sent people door to door to find out who had family at the compound. Most of the parents were now gathered outside the main entrance, but they were not allowed access to the children while the agents continued to investigate exactly what they were dealing with. Veronica Parkinson was with her granddaughter while Marilyn and William Bellows were giving their statements to the agents who had set up office in the main building.
Buck and Josiah were unable to speak with any of Father John's followers and could only stand by and watch as the chanting began anew. Buck slammed one fist into the other as he watched JD Dunne stand and shout about the so-called ‘savior'.
"Easy, Buck, there's nothing we can do until your friend gets here."
"I know...I just...it's hard to see JD like that. Jesus when he realizes what he's done...when he's back to himself...God help me, Josiah, but right now I'd like to ram my fist down his throat and knock some sense into his fool head!"
"I feel the same way, Buck, but it wouldn't do any good. We need to wait and make sure we're there to support him when Wellington starts to deprogram him."
"That's going to be hell in itself. I've seen him work and it's damn hard and Pete walks a hard line, but he's got an excellent success rate. JD's strong and he hasn't been here long so maybe it won't be as hard on him as it'll be on some of these kids."
"Maybe...the whole damn town is going to have to face the ugly truth here. They're guilty of letting Father John..."
"Josiah, we got an ID on Father John," Donna Lawrence said handing the two men a picture she'd printed from the mobile unit. They were using officers from nearby towns to help control the crowds and watch over the chanting cult followers.
"Jean Claud Rousseau...never heard of him," Wilmington told her.
"Not surprising. He's kept a low profile and probably found this place by accident. He does have a record, but was never convicted of anything serious. The sonofabitch usually has kids begging for money on street corners so this is a step up for him," Lawrence explained. "We've got an APB out for him and another man named Tyler Grodin."
"I hope you catch the bastard," Wilmington offered.
"We will, Buck," Lawrence vowed. "There's coffee and sandwiches if you're hungry."
"Come on, Buck, might as well grab something to eat while we wait," Sanchez said.
"I'm not hungry..."
"Neither am I, but at least it's something to do until we hear from Nathan," the ex-preacher ordered and led the man away from JD Dunne.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Stacey Midland looked at the monitors and wished the numbers were better. Larabee's blood pressure remained dangerously low even with the blood transfusion and the liquids being pumped into him. She knew they were dealing with internal injuries and Brandon Silverman was already prepping for emergency surgery.
"Roy, I'm going to speak with Nathan and let him know what's happening."
"All right, Stacey, I'll get Larabee ready for Brandon," Simmons assured her.
"Thanks, Roy," Midland said and exited the room to find Jackson leaning against the wall near the desk. She hurried toward him and smiled thinly before speaking. You look like five miles of bad road, Nathan.
"Funny, Doc, that's usually Buck's line. How's Chris?"
"Critical, but you came in with him so you already knew that."
"Yeah, I did," Jackson told her sadly.
"Brandon Silverman is prepping for surgery, Nathan. The knife did some serious internal damage including a lacerated liver. He's bleeding into his abdominal cavity and there's probably more, but we won't know until we get in there."
"What about his leg?"
"It's a bad break and once we've got him stable David Frost will decide what needs to be done," Midland explained. "Nathan, this could take some time..."
"I know, Doc, but I'm not going anywhere. I'll be with Vin and Ezra..."
"Just make damn sure they don't try anything stupid...tell them I've laid in a new supply of blunt needles that pack quite the punch and I'll use them myself if they force my hand!"
"I'll tell them, but you know..."
"I know all of you, Nathan, and I know how worried you are, but we're going to do everything we know how to give Chris a fighting chance," Midland vowed.
"I know you will, Doc, hell, that's why you're the best there is," Jackson told her. "Can I see him?"
"For a minute," the physician said and led Jackson to the trauma room. She pushed open the door and knew Jackson understood just how bad things were for Chris Larabee.
Nathan walked up to the bed and took a deep breath when he noted how pale the blond was. There were tubes and leads everywhere and he swallowed convulsively before whispering a silent prayer before looking at Midland.
"You'll have to go now, Nathan, and I promise I'll come find you as soon as he's out of surgery," Midland said as the nursing staff began connecting the mobile equipment before pushing the stretcher from the room.
Nathan reluctantly left the room and waited outside the door until Larabee was wheeled out and taken toward the elevators. He took a deep breath, but knew there was no point in following so he quickly made his way back to Tanner and Standish's room. He wasn't surprised to find the trio waiting expectantly for him and quickly ran through what Midland had told him.
"Hell," Tanner said when Jackson told them of the physician's threat.
"Yes, I believe that's exactly what she'll make your lives if you do anything stupid," Travis told them.
"Look, Vin, you and Ezra need to get some sleep..."
"Do you really think that's possible right now, Nathan?" Standish asked.
"Maybe not, but I'm sure the nurse can give you something to help you sleep. You're not doing Chris any good by neglecting your own needs right now because it could be hours before we know anything," Jackson said and knew there was no way either man would rest until they knew Larabee was out of surgery. "Orin, I need to call Buck and Josiah."
"Go ahead, Nathan...I'm going to that all night deli for coffee..."
"Bring..."
"Not a chance, Ezra," Travis said and hurried from the room as Jackson quickly made the call.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Jean Claud Rousseau cursed his luck at having to leave his two best converts, but at least now he knew his methods worked. All he had to do now was get to the old airstrip and wait for pick up. Just how he was going to do that with so many Feds in the town and the roadblocks set up, he wasn't sure.
Rousseau thought about John Daniel and toyed with the idea of going back for him. The kid had proven he would do anything he was told, but with so many cops around it was going to be next to impossible for him to get close enough to talk to John Daniel. Jean Claud searched the darkened streets and kept to the alleys between the buildings as he made his way toward the residential area.
Jane Constantine had no children, but she'd been easy to convince that his teachings were the true teachings and had been helping him since he'd come to town. There were times when she questioned him, but it was easy to make her see things the way he did. She would help him, mainly because he scared her. He ducked behind a dumpster and waited for several people to walk past the opening. It would be daylight soon and that meant it would be harder to hide from the cops.
Rousseau hurried away from his hiding place and made it to the end of the street, not far from Jane's bed and breakfast. He checked both ways to make sure no one was watching him before running toward the gate and pushing it open. He made his way along the pebbled walkway and reached the door just as it was pulled open.
"What's happening, Father John? The police were here asking questions about you," Jane asked as the man pushed past her.
"They are all sinners, Sister Jane," Rousseau told her and quickly closed the heavy drapes that covered the bay window. "You have to help me before they catch me..."
"What can I do?"
"I need to hide until tonight..."
"What happens tonight?"
"I must leave Providence..."
"Leave? But you promised you would keep our town clean and safe from sinners like Mr. Larabee."
"I have done everything I can, but the sinners have taken control and I must start fresh or the world will perish in a hail of Fire and Brimstone! You are pure of heart, Sister, and I know you understand what is happening in the world today. You have been chosen to protect me until I can escape the sinners. Please, Sister, you know how hard this is for me, but I am needed in the world to protect the children from the horrors Satan will heap upon them."
"Why me?"
"It is not for us to question why we are chosen...we simply must fulfill what is expected of us." Jean Claud Rousseau reached out and touched her cheek as he sighed heavily. "Look into your heart, Sister, you know what I say is true."
"I will do whatever I can, Father John, but what of the children of Providence? What will happen to them when you leave?"
"They will be returned to their families until I send for them. Have no fear for you too shall be among the chosen when the time is right," Rousseau assured her with a warm smile as she nodded her head.
"You will be safe here until it is time for you to leave," Jane Constantine said, yet there was something about this man that suddenly chilled her to the bone. Was he really what he proclaimed himself to be or had they all fallen prey to a false prophet? She silently prayed it was not the latter for the sake of the people of her hometown.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Josiah reached into his pocket when his cell began to ring and was only slightly relieved to see Jackson's name. "Nathan, how are they?"
"Vin and Ezra are being stubborn, but Doc Midland threatened them in her usual way. They're both glaring at me right now."
"Tell them not to do anything stupid."
"Easier said than done...they're worried Josiah."
"We all are, Brother," Sanchez said watching Buck as he stared at JD Dunne. "Any news on Chris?"
"Nothing good I'm afraid. He's in surgery and we probably won't know anything for a while yet."
Josiah listened as Nathan updated him on what he knew about Larabee's condition and held up his hand when Buck looked like he was about to speak. "JD's the same, Nathan, but Buck got in touch with an old friend of his and Chris'. He should be here sometime this morning."
"It's going to be a hard road bringing JD back."
"Yes, it is, but we'll do whatever we have to in order to break whatever control Rousseau..."
"Rousseau?"
"Father John...his real name is Jean Claud Rousseau. The police and Feds are searching the town for him, but so far no luck."
"Figures, look I'll let you know if anything changes here, but keep an eye on Buck...you know he's torn between Chris and JD right now."
"I hear you, Nathan," Sanchez said and hung up.
"How's Chris?"
"Critical, but we knew that when they left, Buck," Sanchez said and went on to relay everything Jackson had told him.
"I hope they catch that bastard, Josiah," Wilmington said.
"They will, Buck," Sanchez said tiredly. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm pissed...God help me I know it's not JD's fault, but I'd like to kick his ass and knock some sense into him."
"It wouldn't do any good...not right now, but in a week or so you might just find JD will be kicking his own ass."
"I hope he's got steel toed boots," Wilmington said and looked toward the main building where the Feds had set up a command center. "Come on and I'll buy you a coffee."
"Sounds good to me...maybe they've got some donuts. I don't remember when I ate last."
"Me either...come on then coffee and donuts...a staple in our line of work," the rogue said with a hint of humor.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Nathan and Orin watched over the two men who'd finally fallen asleep just as dawn's glorious cloak spread over the city. There was still no word on Chris Larabee, but in a way that was good news because it meant the surgeons were still at work. That meant the blond was still fighting for his life and the medical staff were doing everything in their power to keep him alive.
Nathan turned as the door slowly opened and Stacey Midland motioned for them to join her in the hallway. It didn't surprise him when a soft Texas drawl broke through the silence.
"Doc, how's Chris?" Tanner asked.
"Well, Vin, I can safely say you guys are right about Chris being a fighter. He gave Brandon, Tom, and Roy a scare or two, but he made it through surgery and is being settled in SICU and no, you're not in any shape to see him right now," Midland answered the question before he had a chance to ask it.
"Is he...will he be all right?" Standish asked worriedly.
"Right now his chances are 70/30, but he's got the best team of doctors in the country working on him. There was more damage than we expected, but Brandon and Tom were able to repair most of it and he was given four units of blood during the procedure. Once he's stabilized David Frost will take care of his leg, but right now he'd rather wait until Chris has a chance to recover from this surgery," Midland explained tiredly.
"Doc, can I see him?" Jackson asked.
"Give the staff an hour to set things up and then you and Orin can see him, just remember he's heavily sedated and on a ventilator. Keep your visit short for today and make sure these two don't go prowling around the SICU," the physician ordered.
"We will, Doc...thanks," Jackson told her.
"You're welcome. I'm heading home in a few minutes and it looks like you should do the same," Midland ordered.
"I'll see that he goes home, Stacey," Travis assured her and realized he probably looked as bad as Jackson did. "I'll drop him off at Rain's on my way home."
"Now that sounds like a plan," the physician said and looked at her two patients. "The nurses have orders to put you two in lockdown if you try anything. Understood?"
"I hear ya, Doc," Tanner said and smiled innocently.
"Don't try that on me, Vin...Hardisty has been given your cases for the day and I thought I heard her say something about a sponge bath..."
"Orin, would you mind if Vin and I accompanied you and Nathan..."
"Sorry, Ezra, you two are on your own," Travis told him and heard Midland chuckle softly before she left.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Buck took a deep breath as he watched a familiar figure striding toward him. Josiah was talking to several Federal agents about the townspeople who were waiting for word on whether or not they could take their children home. He held out his hand and felt it gripped tightly.
"Good to see you again, Buck," Peter Wellington offered.
"You too, Pete, I just wish it was under better circumstances."
"Me too...any word on Chris?"
"He made it through surgery, but right now the odds are stacked against him," Wilmington answered angrily.
"If I remember correctly the odds were stacked against Chris the last time we met too. He made it through that hell hole and he'll make it through this, besides remember what I told you boys the last time we met?"
"Only the good die young...never was a truer statement."
"Shit, Buck, I didn't mean to..."
"I know and it's okay. He...we still miss them," Wilmington said of Larabee's deceased wife and son.
"Where's the kid you told me about?"
"The Feds are holding him with the rest of the cult members. Looks like you'll have your work cut out for you because some of these kids have been under Rousseau's influence for at least a year...maybe longer."
"How the fuck did that bastard keep the whole town under wraps?"
"We've pieced some of it together, but let's just say the bastard took the little kids away from the parents and then told them he was teaching them the proper way to live. If the parents wanted to see their children they had to attend his gatherings. I'm thinking they're probably all under some kind of drug use or mass hypnosis," Wilmington explained.
"Could be a combination of both. How big is the town?"
"Between five and six hundred," Wilmington answered. "I don't remember ever seeing it on this scale."
"I've seen it...or at least something like it," Wellington told him.
"Tell me you can help them...help JD?"
"I'll do my best, Buck, but you know you'll have to stay out of it until I'm ready for you."
"Yeah, I know how it works," Wilmington said as Sanchez joined them. "Josiah, this is Peter Wellington...he specializes in cases like this. He's the best there is."
"Not by a long shot," Wellington said shaking Sanchez's hand.
"Buck says you're the best, I believe him," Sanchez said. "I hope you've got help."
"I do...they're setting up a base for us in town," Wellington assured him. "The rest of my team should be here before the day is over," Wellington told him. "You know this could take some time and it's not going to be easy on any of them."
"I know," Sanchez said.
"Has he shown any sign that he recognizes you, Buck?" Wellington asked.
"No, he just sits there chanting about that sonofabitch!" Wilmington spat.
"That's normal, Buck, but he hasn't been here as long as the others and it shouldn't take long to reverse the programming."
"He almost killed Chris, Pete."
"No, Buck, that wasn't JD and that's something you're going to have to remember if you're going to help JD once you get him back. It'll do him no damn good if you blame him for something he was programmed to do," Wellington explained.
"I know, but every time I look at him I'll see that knife and the blood...God there was so much blood."
"Easy, Buck, Chris is alive so just hold on to that. Maybe you should head home..."
"No, Josiah, I'm staying..."
"Buck, it'll be a while before you'll be able to talk to JD so you and Josiah might as well head on home. I'll call you as soon as things start to change and he needs you," Wellington vowed.
"Right now Chris, Vin, and Ezra need us, Buck...they'll be worried about JD," Sanchez said and saw the look of utter defeat cross Wilmington's face.
"Get him back for us, Pete," Wilmington said.
"I'll do my best, Buck, you know that," Wellington promised and shook his friend's hand before walking toward the area where the cult members were being held.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Nathan and Orin waited for the nurse to finish whatever she was doing in Larabee's SICU. They were told upon arrival that Larabee was not quite ready for visitors and that his nurse would let them know when she was finished. Buck had called to let them know that he and Josiah were on their way back, but JD would not be with them.
Buck had explained that an old friend who specialized in cults and cult activities had arrived and taken over the case. The man was more than qualified and had worked a lot of cases involving cults such as the one Jean Claud Rousseau had started. The people of Providence had a lot to answer for and it would be months before everything was cleared up, especially where the children were concerned.
Child welfare agencies had been called in and although the children would eventually be returned to their parents, the agencies would be keeping an eye on things.
"Mr. Travis, Mr. Jackson, you can come in now," Kathi Jorgensen said once she'd opened the curtain.
Having been in this position before, neither man was shocked by what they saw, but they were both angry that it had happened to one of their own. Nathan automatically looked at the monitors and understood what the numbers meant, and silently cursed the fact that he'd been trained as a paramedic. Sometimes he wished he was as in the dark as the others, but he did not regret taking the courses since there were several times he'd used that knowledge to save someone's life, including members of the team.
"How bad, Nathan?" Travis asked softly.
"About like the doc told us. He's running a fever and his blood pressure's low, but it looks like they're giving him fluids and meds for that," Jackson said.
"That's correct, Mr. Jackson," Kathi said.
"Call me Nathan," Jackson told the newcomer to Saint Vincents' staff. He'd met her the day she started when he'd picked up Rain Goines.
"Nathan, I know you understand what the numbers mean, but if there's one thing I've learned since coming to work here it's that your friends are all fighters..."
"Yes, they are," Jackson agreed, sighing tiredly.
"Nathan, come on and I'll drive you home," Travis said.
"Buck and Josiah..."
"It'll take them four or five hours to get here, Nathan," Travis advised. "The hospital will call if they need us."
"All right," Jackson said and followed the older man out of the room. "Damn, I should have called Nettie Wells."
"I did and she'll be in later today. Come on, Nathan, everything's been taken care of and Chris, Vin and Ezra are in good hands," the former judge advised.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Rain heard the door open and hurried out of the kitchen. Her fiancé stood framed in the doorway and she hurried toward him before wrapping her arms around him and letting him hold her. She felt him tremble, and knew it was a combination of worry and exhaustion and took his right hand in her left.
Without a word she led him toward the bedroom they shared and gently helped him out of his clothes. She placed her finger against his lips when he started to speak and shook her head. "Don't say anything, Nathan, just lie down and let me take care of you for a change."
Nathan lay back against the pillows, drinking in the sight and scent of her as she gently massaged the tension from his shoulders and neck. He loved this woman with every breath he took and prayed they would always feel that way about each other. He closed his eyes as she began humming a soft tune that eased him toward the sleep his mind and body craved.
Rain knew he was asleep and gently kissed his lips before easing the blankets up over him. She sat on the edge of the bed and ran her fingers across his chest and felt her heart beat faster at the thought of how much this man meant to her. She loved him so much it hurt, but this kind of pain was something she would gladly live with because it wasn't like a physical blow. It was more an emotional blow whenever she was apart from him for any length of time.
Rain stood to leave, but a strong hand pulled her back and she lay down beside the strong body she'd explored in more ways than one. She felt the blankets lifted up over her as Nathan spooned up against her back. She didn't sleep, but lay content in the arms of her lover as the hands slowly ticked away on the clock beside their bed.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Peter Wellington had watched the two men drive away from the commune before speaking with the agent in charge. He knew his office had cleared it through channels and that Special Agent Gerry Hallowell would be working closely with him. He'd heard of Hallowell and the man's reputation preceded him.
"Agent Wellington, it's good to finally meet you."
"Well, Agent Hallowell it looks like we'll be working closely for a while so why don't we forget formality and work on a first name basis?"
"Sounds good, Peter, are you ready to talk to the kids?"
"Is there anything I should know before we go over there?"
"There's not much I can tell you except whoever this Father John guy is he's done a hell of a fucking number on these kids," Hallowell spat.
"I guess we'll have our work cut out for us, but I believe we'll be able to bring them back..."
"Given the time and manpower we will," Hallowell agreed.
"We'll have whatever we need, Gerry, the governor's behind this program and I've already been in contact with his office," Wellington advised.
"Then I guess now's as good a time as any to get started."
"Sounds good...any chance we can separate a kid named JD Dunne from the others?"
"Is he a special case? Related to the Governor or something?"
"No, but he's a friend of a friend and it would mean a lot to me if you can let me handle him personally."
"You owe me one."
"Understood," Wellington said.
"Come on then, let's see which one is JD Dunne," Hallowell offered and headed for the group of chanting young people.
"Father John Is my Savior...Father John will set me free..."
"Yeah, yeah, we know all about Father John and what a coward he is...running out and leaving you to..."
"Father John must live...we are only his children and our lives should be forfeit to insure his survival."
"What's your name, Kid?" Hallowell asked the young woman.
"Father John is..."
"Gone, the sonofabitch ran out on you remember?" Hallowell asked.
"You are all sinners and Father John teaches us not to listen to sinners. It is time for us to leave, John Daniel..."
"Ah, so you're JD Dunne," Wellington said.
"I am John Daniel...JD was a sinner and he is..."
"Out to lunch right now, but I'm betting he's still in there and just waiting to kick Father John's ass all the way to hell where he belongs," Wellington told him with a smile.
"Do not listen to him, John Daniel, he is speaking the devil's words and Father John does not wish for us to hear the sinners speak. Father John is my savior..."
"Father John will show me the way..." John Daniel and the others picked up the chant as Wellington and Hallowell talked about the best place to start the re-programming.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Nettie Wells swallowed convulsively when she stepped into the SICU that housed the unconscious form of Chris Larabee. She knew the extent of his injuries and understood the staff was doing everything in their power to make sure he survived. She'd spoken with Orin Travis and knew JD Dunne was partially responsible for what happened, but she also understood that he'd been used, drugged and beaten, by the bastard who'd taken control of Providence.
Nettie laughed, but there was no humor in the sound when she thought of the name of the town and the stupidity of the people who lived there. How could they have been so blinded by the teachings of a self-proclaimed prophet? How could they subject their children to the lies and deceit of such a man? How could they allow him to torture children and make young people like JD do something that went against who they were?
Nettie placed her hand on her nephew-in-law's arm and could see the vivid array of bruises peeking out from beneath the white blanket. There were tubes and IV lines everywhere she looked and the soft sound of the ventilator did little to ease her fears.
"You know, Chris, I could take a page out of Buck's book here and tell you I'm getting too many grey hairs, but I guess that comes with age," Nettie said and turned when a voice spoke behind her.
"He does have that effect on people, Nettie," Wilmington told her.
"Oh, Buck, I didn't know you were there...I'm sorry..."
"Don't be...we just got in. How's he doing?"
"They tell me he's doing about as well as could be expected," Nettie said as he hugged her. "How is JD? Casey is worried sick about him."
"Right now he's not JD, Nettie...right now he's a puppet named John Daniel, but we'll get him back," Wilmington assured her.
"Does he know...know about Chris?"
"Probably, but right now he doesn't give a damn about Chris or anyone else except Father John. The bas...the man did a hell of a job on him. He...and the other young people keep chanting and believing he is their savior and a prophet of God or something. Where is Casey?"
"She had a project due and is at the library with several friends. I told her there was nothing she could do right now and that her studies are important."
"You're right, Nettie...she's good at what she does and there's always a need for good doctors," Wilmington explained and looked at Larabee. "God, what a mess."
"Yes, it is, but God didn't make it," Nettie told him. "I'll leave you to visit with Chris and go check on Vin and Ezra."
"Josiah's with them..."
"Good, maybe I won't have to sit on them to keep them away from here," Nettie said and hugged Wilmington before leaving the room. She knew exactly where Vin and Ezra were and took the elevator to their floor. She greeted several people she knew, but did not stop to talk. She strode toward the room and pushed open the door, surprised to find Josiah holding a finger against his mouth.
"Josiah, how are they?" she asked when he eased the door closed and joined her in the hallway.
"They were asleep when I got here," Sanchez explained.
"That's probably because we had to resort to drastic measures," Norma Hardisty explained from the main nursing station.
"Drastic measures?" Nettie asked.
"Yes, Mrs. Wells. It seems Vin and Ezra have a reputation and when we found them trying to find an escape route that would make it easy with Vin's extra tubes and wires..."
"Hell," Sanchez said with a slight grin.
"Yes, for the staff as well as for the patients. We had to give them both medications because they'd overtaxed themselves and were in a lot of pain. It seems someone gave them a little something that is helping them sleep."
"Sneaky and smart," Nettie told her.
"Thank you," Hardisty said and pushed open the door. "You can sit with them, but please let them sleep."
"We will," Nettie said and stepped inside. Ezra Standish was in the bed closest to the door. His head was turned slightly toward her and Nettie could tell he was sleeping deeply. There was a flush to his cheeks that spoke of a fever, but she knew that was normal when bullet wounds were involved.
Nettie moved to the second bed and smiled at the way Vin Tanner was turned toward the window so that the sun seemed to dance across his face. Even in sleep she could see the lines of worry and wished there was some way to ease his fears. How often had she seen him like this since she'd met him? How many times had she witnessed the seemingly impossible connection he had with Chris Larabee?
A hand on her shoulder told her she wasn't alone and she covered the heavily calloused one with her own.
"They'll be fine, Nettie."
"I know, Josiah, but it seems as if the evil of this world is winning..."
"Not a chance, Nettie, not while we still have breath in our bodies," Sanchez vowed and pulled over a chair so she could sit down.
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Peter Wellington knew what had to be done and watched as the kids were separated and placed in rooms away from each other. It had taken several hours to arrange for several buildings to be set up in the compound for what his team needed. There were 32 young people, ranging in age from 15 to 25, the oldest being JD Dunne.
Wellington knew they had their job cut out for them, but with the arrival of his team he knew they had a chance to ‘rescue' those Father John had been manipulating with pain and drugs. He'd seen it before, way too many times, and yet it still affected him each time he started the overwhelming task of bringing people like JD Dunne back to their normal lives.
"How many are we dealing with this time, Pete?" Charles Seagrove asked.
"Thirty-two...18 girls and 14 boys."
"Any idea how long they've been under Rousseau's control?"
"Thirty-one of them since he came to the town over a year ago," Wellington answered.
"Didn't you say there were 32?"
"Yes, I did. The last one is a young man named JD Dunne and near as I can figure he's been here about a week and underwent some severe training by Rousseau. He wasn't alone when he came to town."
"You sound like there's something personal in this."
"There is, but I won't let that interfere in what we have to do," Wellington vowed.
"Pete, we both know that's not possible. You should back away from this one."
"I can't...I promised someone I'd take a personal interest in bringing the kid back. I know it goes against everything we've been taught, Charles, but this is one time I am not backing away."
"Pete..."
"Look, Charles, I don't know the kid personally..."
"You just said..."
"I said I was asked to help this kid. I know his boss and friend and I owe them...big time. Give me a chance to work with JD Dunne and if you see me doing anything I shouldn't then I'll bow out, but for now let me work with him."
"Normally I'd say no, but we both know you're the best in the business, Charles, so I'll turn a blind eye for now. Tell me what you need and I'll make damn sure you get it," Seagrove vowed and walked beside the older man as they headed into the building.
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Veronica Parkinson watched as her granddaughter played beside her. The little girl was subdued and nervous as if afraid someone would take her away again. Veronica had spent the night with the child in her arms, rocking her while humming softly as tears slipped silently from her eyes.
Millicent, called after her grandmother, had quickly been shortened to Millie and the nickname had stuck because it suited the child perfectly.
"Grammie...will the bad man come back?"
The question didn't really shock her, but it spoke of the fears the child had and that was something very real. "No, Honey, Grammie won't let him come back."
"What about Mommy and Daddy...will they come home soon ‘cause I misses them."
"I know you do, and I'm sure they miss you too, Millie. They need to fix some things and then they'll come home. They love you very much..."
"Why did they let the bad man take me?"
"I don't know, Honey, but sometimes big people make mistakes too. Your mommy and daddy are sorry for what they did and they'll make sure no one ever takes you from them again."
"I love you, Grammie," Millie said and quickly hugged the elderly woman.
"I love you too, Millie," Veronica said and lifted the child onto her knee. "Grammie will keep you safe because Grammie loves you very much."
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Tyler Grodin knew he was alone and that Jean Claud Rousseau had taken what money they had and escaped before the Feds arrived. He'd barely made it out before the compound had been overrun and now understood that he was on his own. He knew where Rousseau would head as soon as it grew dark and he planned to get there before his former partner.
Turning away from the compound he followed the stream north away from the town and hoped the Feds were too busy with the kids to pay attention to him. He would hide out at the old airstrip and wait for Rousseau, kill the sonofabitch and then take the private plane anywhere he wanted.
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Vin slowly opened his eyes and licked at dry lips as he smiled at the woman seated next to his bed. She seemed to be lost in her knitting and hadn't noticed he was awake and he took the time to study her face. She looked worried and he knew some of the lines were there because of him. He shifted on the bed, biting his lip when he remembered too late that there was more than one accessory to make him uncomfortable.
"Let that be a lesson to you, Vin Tanner," Nettie mock scolded and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. She held the cup of ice water and waited for him to drink his fill and smiled when he looked at her innocently.
"Thanks, Miss Nettie, seems I's a mite thirsty."
"I can tell, now what's this I hear about you and Ezra trying to make an escape attempt?"
"Just wanted ta see Chris," Tanner said softly as Standish continued to sleep.
"I know you do, Son, and I know you're worried about him, but right now you need to be thinking ‘bout your own health. You were shot a couple of days ago and if the pain when you move is not enough of a reminder then maybe those extra tubes you have should be," the elderly woman advised.
"Hate this..."
"I know you do, but so help me if I have to sit on you two I will," Nettie said when she noticed the other man shifting on his bed.
"No point in playin' possum, Ez, Miss Nettie's a sly ol'..."
"Old?" the woman said, eyebrows rising in amusement.
"Ah hell..."
"And now the language..."
"Shi...ah shoot," Tanner said and smiled when Nettie placed a kiss on his cheek.
"I do love it when you blush, Vin," the woman said.
"Have you seen Chris?"
"I have," Nettie told him and filled the two men in on what was happening with their friend. She knew they were worried, truth was so was she, but if there was one thing she'd learned about Chris Larabee it was that he had a resiliency that went further than most men she knew.
"Nettie..."
"Don't even go there, Vin, you and Ezra are not going anywhere until Dr. Midland or Dr. Simmons give you the okay," the woman said as the door opened and a nurse brought in a tray of food. "It looks like dinner has arrived."
"Is that what they're calling it now?" Standish grumbled and sat up in the bed.
"If you both behave I might be convinced to visit Delvecchio's before I come in tomorrow morning."
"I would be forever in your debt," Standish vowed.
"Very well, but..."
"I knew there had to be a but in there somewhere," Tanner said.
"Always is," Nettie said with a grin before continuing. "If I hear tell of any late night excursions then I'll just stop by the doctors' lounge and offer them what I bring."
"That's cruel..."
"And unusual punishment," Standish finished for Tanner.
"Yes, well you boys are unusual," Nettie told them as the nurse brought in the second tray and placed it on Tanner's table. "You boys eat that and I'm sure Mama Delvecchio will have something special for you tomorrow morning."
"Thanks, Miss Nettie," Tanner said.
"Don't thank me ...you haven't eaten any yet," Nettie said and picked up the fork before handing it to the Texan. She moved to the second bed and repeated the gesture with Standish as Sanchez returned to the room. "I'll leave you boys to talk, but remember what I said."
"We will, Mrs. Wells," Standish told her and watched her leave before replacing the fork on the table. "Josiah, how is Chris?"
"Still the same. Buck's with him and Nathan will be here shortly."
"What about JD...any word on how he's doing?"
"Nothing yet, but we knew it would take some time. They have to set up a base and then bring in the specialists," Sanchez said and pointed to the fork on Standish's tray. "Don't make me call Nettie back."
"You would too," Standish said and began eating the stir fry sent up by the kitchen, surprised when it didn't taste half as bad as he expected.
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Buck sat watching over his unconscious friend and rubbed at the tense muscles at the back of his neck. He thought about his roommate and how much they'd changed since moving in together. JD Dunne had grown into a fine young man, one his mother would have been proud of. One Buck wanted to tear apart right now as he watched Chris Larabee fight for his life.
Buck knew in his heart that JD was not to blame, but that didn't make this situation any easier.
‘God, Chris, did he do all this to you? What the hell did Rousseau do to him? He looked like shit and that fucking chanting was enough to turn my stomach,' he thought as he ran his fingers through disheveled hair. He sighed tiredly and wondered if Wellington was getting anywhere with JD.
"Pete's a good guy, Chris...I know he'll do everything to bring JD back. I just wish there was some way to save you and JD a lot of hardship, but the kids going to have a shit load of guilt when he straightens up and sees what he did. Did he do all this to you or just what I saw him do? God help me, but I wish the hell I could be there when Pete starts on him," Wilmington said tiredly.
"Buck," Pamela said softly.
"Is it that time already?" Wilmington asked the nurse.
"I'm afraid so...you should really go home and get some rest. I promise with the heavy sedatives we're giving him he won't be waking up for some time," Pamela explained.
Buck knew she was probably right, but he wasn't sure he could leave the hospital knowing there was a distinct possibility that Chris Larabee wouldn't be there when he returned. He took a deep breath before leaving the room, but turned toward the waiting room instead of the stairs. This was where he belonged until he knew Larabee would survive, and silently prayed Peter Wellington could help JD and the other members of ‘Father John's' cult.
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Jean Claud Rousseau knew he should be careful, but he needed to escape before the Feds showed up at the door. Jane Constantine was getting nervous and it was just a matter of time before she turned him over to the police. He was quickly losing ground with the people of Providence as the children were returned to their families, but he would salvage whatever he could before leaving.
Rousseau wondered what had happened to Tyler Grodin and knew if the man had escaped he would head for the abandoned airstrip. That was fine by him because Grodin would make a good scapegoat should the Feds find them. As soon as it was dark he'd left the bed and breakfast in search of a car he could use to escape the town.
Jean Claud found what he needed outside a small house near the edge of town and quickly hotwired it before driving along a back alley. He knew the Feds would be looking for him, but he knew his way around Providence and quickly left the town behind. He knew it would take 40 minutes to reach the airfield and wished he had a weapon, but Jane had no guns in her home. He knew he had to get to the meeting place before his pilot decided there was no reason to wait any longer.
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Tyler Grodin waited for the small plane to come to a complete stop and watched as the pilot exited the small craft and lit a cigarette. The man was big; his shoulders broad reminding Grodin of a linebacker, but the gun he kept hidden would make sure the man cooperated when the time came.
Grodin waited until the pilot leaned against the plane as if he didn't have a care in the world before leaving his sanctuary and striding toward him.
"Who the hell are you?" Francis Jacobs asked.
"Tyler Grodin...now I know you're supposed to be meeting my boss, but we ran into some trouble and I'm the one you'll be flying out of here."
"Only if you have the right price," Jacobs offered.
"I have this," Grodin said and produced the gun.
"Now wait a minute...I'm not..."
"I know Rousseau paid you upfront so you're going to fly me out of here or I'll kill you where you stand," Grodin warned.
"Do that and you're stuck without a pilot," Jacobs told him with a grin. "Look, it makes no difference to me who I fly out of here...but..."
"What?"
"It might just matter to him," Jacobs said.
Grodin turned, but realized his mistake too late as something slammed into his arm and sent the gun flying into the underbrush. His fingers were already numb as he brought his right arm up in an effort to protect his head, and barely registered the metal crowbar before it struck with enough force to break the bone in his forearm.
Rousseau had heard enough upon entering the clearing and was glad he'd decided to park the car and grab the crowbar from the trunk. Years of self-preservation kicked in and he'd recognized Grodin's voice and knew it was time to dissolve their partnership. He brought the crowbar down again and again until there was nothing but an unrecognizable lump on the ground covered in blood and gore.
"You need to get cleaned up," Jacobs said with a grin.
"No shit," Rousseau said and dropped the crowbar beside the dead man.
"So, are we heading for Rio?"
"No, not yet," Rousseau answered. "I have some unfinished business and need to pick up my greatest achievement before we leave."
"Are you sure that's wise? I've seen the news broadcasts and you're on the Feds most wanted list."
"Isn't it great to be famous," Rousseau said with a grin. "Let's get the hell out of here before the Feds show up although we both know how stupid they are."
"I've got water onboard and a change of clothes for you," Jacobs offered and reached behind the passenger seat for the backpack he'd stashed there.
"Good, be ready to leave in five minutes," Rousseau ordered.
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere we can hide out until the heat's off," the cult leader advised.
"I know just the place," Jacobs told him and waited for the man to clean up before climbing into the small plane and readying for take off.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Peter Wellington looked at the young man seated on the chair at the center of the room. JD Dunne still chanted the words that were drilled into his skull by ‘Father John' and his followers, but sooner or later he would stop, or his voice would give out. His team, and that of Charles Seagrove, had worked to take blood samples and would also need to do a physical examination of each member of the cult.
Wellington moved into the room and pulled a chair in front of the young man. He turned it around and placed his hands on the back, leaning his chin on his hands.
"Father John is my savior..."
"Is he, JD?" Wellington asked softly.
"My name is John Daniel...Father John will show me the way..."
"If that's true then why isn't he here with you? Why did he run..."
"You people have no idea..."
"Don't we? Do you know what ‘Father John's' name really is? It's Jean Claud Rousseau and he's a con..."
"No! No he's not...Father John will show me the way...Father John is my savior..."
Wellington watched the young man who began rocking back and forth on the chair. He knew there were drugs involved and from the amount of bruises, both faded and livid, Peter knew he'd been beaten during his time in the cult. His own experiences with Cults shone in his eyes and he knew this one had far reaching connotations because of the town of Providence. The people had either been blinded by the ‘light' or turned a blind eye to what was really happening. Either way they had one hell of a task ahead of them and the cult leader was still free to start again.
"Father John is my savior...Father John will..."
"Run like a scared rabbit and leave you and his other kids to hold the bag. Snap out of it, JD, and see the man for what he is."
"My name is John Daniel! Father John is my savior..."
"Is he..."
"Father John will show me the way..."
"Maybe...if he stuck around long enough, but he's not here, JD," Wellington said, purposely using the name Dunne was known to his friends as.
"Father John is...Father John..."
"You know deep down what Father John is JD. He's not a prophet and he's definitely not a God..."
"How do you know?" John Daniel spat, rocking violently on the chair as he struggled against the binding around his wrists.
"I've seen men like Jean Claud Rousseau and I know how they work, Kid..."
"I'm not a kid and my name is John Daniel! Father John is my savior...Father John will show me the way..."
"Sure he will, Kid. What about your friends? What about the people who care about you? Are you so far gone that you don't remember how close you are to Buck Wilmington?" Wellington said smiling as he got the reaction he was looking for.
"Sinners...all of them...you're a sinner...kill you..."
"So ‘Father John' believes he should kill all sinners? What if the sin is a small one? Should the sinner be put to death?"
"Father John says all sinners must be punished," John Daniel said as the fight left him exhausted. His mouth was dry and he wanted to ask for water, but that would be taking something from a sinner and he could not do that. Father John would punish him if he did and the pain would come back. No, he needed to stay strong and glared at the man seated in front of him. "FATHER JOHN IS MY SAVIOR..."
"Sure he is, Kid, I'll be back when you've had a little time to reflect on what ‘Father John' has done to you and Chris Larabee..."
"Chris," John Daniel whispered the name, but his hatred flared as the man exited the room. He'd done what Father John had told him and rid the world of a sinner.
"Father John is my savior...Father John will show me the way..."
Wellington stood outside the door and listened to the young man's voice through the barrier. He could hear a woman crying from the next cell and the raging screams of another follower further down the hall. This was only the beginning, and he knew it would get worse before it got better. With a heavy heart, Peter made his way toward the room set up as a makeshift cafeteria.
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Vin hadn't slept much during the night and silently cursed the fact that he was stuck in the bed and because of the tubes he could not visit Chris Larabee. Ezra was lucky, well as lucky as a man could be considering he'd been shot. Vin looked at the TV disinterestedly and slammed his fists on the mattress as Ezra exited the bathroom.
"Are you all right, Vin?" Standish asked, holding the IV pole as he made his way toward his bed.
"Hell no...I'm stuck in this fucking bed and no one will tell me how Chris is doing!"
"Hmm, perhaps I could go check on our illustrious leader," Standish offered.
"You're risking the doc..."
"I believe I can handle them...I'll just use a little of the Tanner secret and have them volunteering to feed me or bathe me or..."
"Hell, I ain't half as bad's all that," the Texan said.
"No, you're worse," Standish said and reached for the hospital issue slippers. Josiah was supposed to bring him supplies from his penthouse, but for now these would have to do. "I'll be back as soon as I can, Vin."
"Thanks, Ez," Tanner said and closed his eyes. He knew the blond was alive, but the strange connection they shared was nonexistent and that scared the hell out of him. Since meeting Chris Larabee that connection had grown stronger with only a few instances where he could not feel him.
No matter how hard he sought out the gossamer strands of subconscious thought he came up blank. Vin knew it could simply be the meds they were both getting, especially considering that Chris Larabee was under heavy sedation in the SICU. He shifted on the bed and opened his eyes when footsteps sounded outside the door.
"Hello, Vin, where's your roommate?"
"Morning, Doc, he's just..."
"Let me guess...he's gone to check on Chris?" Midland asked with a smile.
"Hell, Doc, can't get nothin' past you."
"No, you can't, but that doesn't seem to stop you from trying."
"Gotta keep ya on yer toes," Tanner quipped.
"Look, Vin, I know you're worried about Chris, but right now you need to realize you're a patient here and it will take time before you're able to move around under your own steam. That tube is there for a reason and I'm telling you right now that without it your lung will collapse and..."
"I got it, Doc," Tanner griped.
"Do you, Vin, because right now I'd lay odds that you're thinking of a way to escape from this room and go see Chris. Don't bother denying it, but you should realize that your life has just as much value as Chris' does and as your doctor I will make sure you stay right where you are even if it means five point restraints..."
"You're getting' as bad as Larabee with that glare, Doc."
"Good, maybe I'm beginning to realize just what you boys put him through and why his glare is legendary," Midland offered and glanced at the monitors.
"How long before I can see him, Doc?" the Texan asked hopefully.
"Well, things are improving and we may be able to get rid of the tube tomorrow, but until then I want your word that you'll stay put."
"Ain't like I got a lot of choice," Tanner told her as she checked the wound in his chest.
"True, but you're worse than Houdini when it comes to escaping locked boxes," Midland said and smiled as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Look, Vin, I know how close you and Chris are and I know how worried you are about him, but right now you need to worry about yourself too. The nursing staff in the SICU are..."
"The best in the country," Tanner said seriously.
"Yes, they are and that's what I want you to remember. He's got someone with him at all times and we know if there's a problem. Then there's the rest of your team...Buck, Josiah, and Nathan have all spent time with him...so has Nettie Wells, so he's not alone, Vin...none of you are."
"Thanks, Doc, just wish we knew more about what happened."
"So do I, but for now we need to get you better and out of here so I can use this bed for someone who appreciates my bedside manner," Midland teased.
"Hell, Doc, I appreciate it...much better than Simmons...least yer a looker..."
"Well, thank you, Vin, but flirting won't get you out of that bed any sooner," Midland teased and watched the hint of a blush come to the Texan's face before she left the room.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Buck looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps and smiled as Ezra Standish entered Larabee's SICU. Without a word he stood up and allowed the injured man to take his seat.
"How is he?" Standish asked softly.
"Doc says he's about as they expected right now. Simmons and Parker were in earlier and checked his numbers. They're going to keep him sedated for at least another day and then Frost will decide if he's strong enough for him to fix his leg," Wilmington answered. "Does Midland know you're here?"
"No, but it was either I come check on him or Vin would find a way to get here no matter how many accessories he was carrying," the gambler explained. "If you don't mind me saying, you look like you should be in bed yourself."
"So I've been told," Wilmington answered. "I'll head on home as soon as Nathan or Josiah get here."
"Has there been any word on JD?" Standish asked.
"Nothing new. Wellington and his team are working with all the cult's followers, but it could be some time before we get any news."
"You do realize JD is not to blame for what happened?"
"I know," the ladies man agreed. He knew Nathan had told the two men what was happening in Providence and wished he didn't feel as if Dunne had betrayed them all. The problem was every time he looked at Chris Larabee he saw the Bostonian bringing the knife down into the blond's exposed abdomen.
"Buck, JD will need to know you don't blame him."
"Yeah...but right now he's damn lucky I can't reach him," Wilmington said honestly.
"Perhaps you are also lucky," Standish offered and saw the frown on the dark haired man's face. "I don't believe you could live with what you would do if JD was close to you now."
"You're right about that, Ezra...God, what a mess," the rogue told him.
"Yes, it is, but as is always the case we shall weather the storm together," the conman explained, sighing tiredly.
"Come on, Ez, let's get you back to your room," Wilmington said. He helped Standish to his feet and walked beside him, ready should the gambler need his help.
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Vin knew he'd dozed while waiting for Ezra's return and opened his eyes to find Buck helping Standish back to his bed. He waited until Ezra was settled before speaking. "How's Chris?"
"Doc's say he's doing okay, Vin..."
"What do you say, Buck?" Tanner asked, trusting the ladies' man to tell him the truth.
"Honestly, Vin, there's not much I can tell you. The Docs are keeping him sedated and let's just say he's got even more accessories than you do," Wilmington explained. "They did quite a number on him and it'll take a while for him to get back on his feet."
"Any word on JD?" the Texan asked.
"No, Pete will call if there's any change, but right now I'm guessing he's trying to undo what Rousseau did to him and the rest of the kids," the rogue spat.
"Pete?" Tanner asked.
"Peter Wellington. Chris and I have known him for years and he specializes in cults and deprogramming those who've been fooled into believing whatever they're told."
"You trust him?" the Texan asked softly.
"Yes, I do," Wilmington answered.
"Do you think he'll be able to get through to JD?" Standish asked.
"I think so...God, I hope so, but I'll tell you something right now," the angry rogue snapped. "JD's gonna have a lot to answer for..."
"Buck, it's not his fault...people like Rousseau feed on anyone they can sink their teeth into. He probably used drugs and pain and anything else he could think of to make JD do what he wanted," Standish explained. "JD's the one who will need our help to deal with the repercussions of what he's done."
"I know...and I know I keep saying that, but I'm pissed, Ezra, and I don't feel anything but anger toward JD right now," Wilmington told them.
"You look like hell, Buck...go home and get some sleep," Tanner said.
"You looked in a mirror lately, Vin, because from where I stand you look like five..."
"Miles of bad road...already heard that," the Texan said.
"Must be true then. I'll see you guys later," Wilmington said before leaving the two men alone. He made his way back to Larabee's room to wait for Sanchez or Jackson's arrival.
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Jane Constantine knew she should call Tom Willow, but did not trust the man any more than she trusted herself right now. She knew the Feds had taken control of the commune and was glad it would all be over soon. The problem was she knew she was as guilty as everyone else in being duped by Father John. Now she was guilty of helping the man escape and that could end badly with her going to jail.
Jane stood staring out at the flowers in her front yard and knew she had to do whatever she could to make things right. Sighing heavily, as tears slipped from her eyes, the distraught woman left her home in search of anyone who would help her.
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John Daniel continued to chant even as his voice grew ragged and hoarse. He rocked back and forth on the chair and knew that Father John would come for him. He would not leave him to face so many sinners on his own. He heard the door open, but did not look at his visitor as he forced the words from his throat.
"Father John is my savior..."
"Are we still doing this, Kid?" Wellington asked. Two hours had passed since he last spoke with the young man, yet JD Dunne continued the chant that had been drilled into his head.
"Father John will show me the way..."
"That's kind of hard for him to do considering he's left all of you holding the bag so to speak," Wellington said and sat backward on the chair once more with his arms folded across the back. "JD, think about what I'm saying and you'll see I'm right. ‘Father John's' real name is Jean Claud Rousseau and he's nothing but a two bit conman. He's been doing this for years and leaves behind kids like you..."
"I'm not a kid! My name is John Daniel. Father John..."
"Yeah, I know. ‘Father John' is my savior and all that crap, but if he was really your savior and was going to show you the way, why isn't he here to help you right now?"
"He'll come back for me and Penny," John Daniel said and looked around. "Where's Penny? What did you do to her?"
"Penny is in another room. Rousseau left you all behind and he's not coming back," Wellington explained, rubbing his hands on his arms as he watched the young man. "JD, your friends are worried about you..."
"What friends?" John Daniel asked.
"Buck Wilmington..."
"He's a sinner!"
"Josiah Sanchez..."
"Sinner!"
"Nathan Jackson..."
"Sinners! All of them and so are you!"
"Chris Larabee..."
"Father John is...is my savior...Father John...Father John..."
"What's wrong JD? Why are you stumbling over those words now? Is it because of what you did?"
"I did nothing wrong...Father John will set me free..."
"Rousseau has put a rope around you and is dragging you to hell with him, Son. He's not a savior. If anything he's the sinner and what he made you do will send him to prison."
"I did nothing wrong. I...I followed...Father John is my sa...savior."
"No, Jean Claud Rousseau is a murderer with delusions of godhood. He is not here because he doesn't give a damn what happens to you. Come on, JD, think about it. Think about what happened to you! Think about what he made you do to Chris Larabee!"
"He made me see what he was," John Daniel whispered, but his voice faltered as tears formed in his eyes.
"What was he, JD?"
"Chris Larabee is a sinner and I did Father John's work. I...I..."
"Easy, Son," Wellington said when the young man seemed unable to continue and began rocking back and forth shaking the chair violently as he struggled with his thoughts. "It's going to be all right."
"Father John is my savior...Father John will show me the way."
"No, Son, ‘Father John' is an animal and he'll be locked in a cage for what he did to you and the others," Wellington said and left the room to find his friend waiting for him.
"How's it going, Pete?" Seagrove asked.
"He seems to be responding, but it's too early to tell yet. How are the others?"
"It's rough going. I hate seeing kids locked into shit like this, but it seems people like Rousseau are a dime a dozen."
"It sure as hell feels that way. JD keeps asking about someone named Penny. How is she doing?"
"You know, she's been in the cult from the beginning, yet she's one of the few that seems to be coming out of it. She's a smart girl and once she realized Father John left them behind she's fighting everything he taught them."
"That's good news," Wellington said thoughtfully.
"What are you thinking about, Pete?"
"I'm wondering if maybe she can help me get through to JD."
"It's too early to even think about that, maybe when she's ready, but not yet. Not until I know JD won't influence her the wrong way."
"I know you're right," Wellington told him.
"Have you made any progress with Dunne?"
"A little, but whatever Rousseau did to him...whatever program he used it really affected the kid."
"Probably used drugs and pain. It's not pretty, but it works when you know how to use them in the right combination."
"I hope they catch the bastard before he starts up again in some other unsuspecting town. Jesus, some providence this place turned out to be," Wellington told him.
"We both know how easy it is to make people believe you're their savior when you use family against them. I know it should be the other way around and people should realize what they are giving up when they give in to these bastards. If it ever happens I'll happily give up this damn job," Seagrove told him.
"You and me both," Wellington agreed softly and walked away from the room.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
John Daniel closed his eyes and thought about what the man had told him. Was it possible Father John had run out on them or was he simply waiting for his chance to return and rid the town of sinners like Chris Larabee? Was Chris really a sinner? God help him, but he wasn't sure what to believe anymore. Father John had taken away the pain...but hadn't he also been the one to cause it.
What about Chris? Was he really a sinner? Wasn't Chris the one who gave him a chance to prove he could do the job?
"God, help me," John Daniel cried as his body shook and he struggled against the restraints holding him to the chair. Pain stabbed at his skull, making him dizzy while nausea churned through his gut. Tears fell from his eyes, but he could not stop them, didn't want to stop them as guilt gnawed at his mind.
"I'm sorry....God, Chris I'm so sorry," John Daniel cried, screaming as he felt invisible hands touching him, hurting him, torturing him as if they were real.
‘I can stop the pain, John Daniel...all you have to do is believe. I can stop the pain...'
The words sounded loud in the room as if spoken in front of him and John Daniel screamed as he twisted against the restraints and the familiar chant escaped tightly clenched teeth.
"Father John is my savior..."
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Nathan kissed Rain before they exited the car. The hospital parking lot was nearly full, but Rain had her own space reserved in the doctor's parking area. They'd spent the day together, but both were anxious to get to the hospital and check on the injured men and run roughshod over Buck Wilmington. The rogue had yet to leave even after Midland and Simmons threatened to ‘put him down'.
"Nathan, I need to see a couple of patients. Are you all right to go take on Buck by yourself?"
"I can handle him, besides Inez said she'll meet me there," Jackson told her. Josiah was helping Father Thomas at the church because the storm the day before had caused major damage to the rectory. Sanchez had been the one riding herd on Wilmington, but even he got tired of trying to get the man to leave Larabee's side.
"All right...I'll come get you when I'm done with my rounds and maybe we can grab a bite to eat."
"Sounds good, Rain," Nathan said before they went their separate ways. Nathan made his way toward the SICU and wondered if the nursing staff had managed to keep Vin tied to his bed. The Texan wanted to see Larabee, but it wasn't possible while the chest tube was in place. Simmons had told him it would probably be removed tomorrow morning, but Tanner was not known for his patience.
Ezra was another problem and as stubborn as the day is long. He'd spent more time in Larabee's room than he should have and made the trip several times already before Midland had decided to put a stop to it by knocking him out with a shot for several hours. Ezra would probably be as cranky as Vin when he finally woke up.
Nathan made his way to Larabee's cubical and sighed heavily when he spotted Buck seated beside Chris' bed. The blond was being kept heavily sedated, but they were finally easing off on the meds and would keep an eye on his vitals during that time. Dr. Frost had spoken with the specialist working on Larabee's case and had him scheduled for surgery on his leg early the next morning, unless there were complications during the next 16 hours.
"Buck, you need to get some rest before those bags under your eyes become hot air balloons," Jackson said.
"Slept some..."
"Sure you did. Mind telling me what century that was?"
"I thought you were with Rain."
"I was, but she has to work so I figured it'd be a good time for you to get some rest while I stay with Chris. How's he doing?"
"The doc's say his fever's still bad and that drain they got in his gut's still heavy with blood. They think they might have missed something and have to go back in if it doesn't improve soon," Wilmington explained worriedly.
"Don't go thinking the bad stuff, Buck, until they come right out and tell you they're going back in."
"I know you're right, Nathan, but I just can't help thinking about this and I'd like to catch hold of JD and..."
"It's not his fault, Buck..."
"I know," Wilmington said honestly. "I just wish he'd been strong enough to fight Rousseau."
"We all do, but you know what people like Rousseau do. The town of Providence is proof of that."
"Those people need a good ass kicking letting that bastard take their kids like that. I mean some of those children were less than two years old. The parents need to be taught one hell of a lesson...Damn it they make you get a license to drive yet any idiot can have a child..."
"Makes you wonder doesn't it?"
"Damn right it does," Buck said tiredly.
"Well, there's nothing more you can do here and I believe your ride just arrived," Jackson said with a grin.
"My what?" Wilmington asked and turned to see the pretty dark haired woman standing in the doorway. "Inez."
"Hello, Buck, are you ready to go?"
"Go where?"
"Don't ask, just go," Jackson lightly scolded.
"What about Chris?"
"I'm here, Buck, and Nettie will be here shortly," Jackson answered.
"Come on, Buck, and don't let me hear you say nunca," Recillos teased as she linked her arm through his and led him from the SICU.
Nathan turned back to the bed with a hint of a smile. Buck and Inez had no idea that everyone else could see the growing attraction between them. It was like watching two forbidden lovers pussyfooting around each other and Ezra had set up a betting pool on how long it would continue before the couple finally admitted the truth.
Nathan's smile slipped when he looked at the overhead monitors and realized Buck wasn't kidding when he said Larabee's fever was high. He knew Midland and Simmons had specialists involved and hoped they were as good as their reputations suggested. The problem with that was their egos were usually as big as their reputations and they didn't take the time to explain things properly to a patient's family and friends.
Nathan moved to sit in the chair; relieved that he'd managed to get Buck to leave and hoped the stubborn man would not fight whatever Inez had planned.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Vin kicked until the twisted blankets released their hold on his legs and slammed his fists on the bed in frustration. His eyes shot open when he heard a soft chuckle from the doorway and couldn't help, but smile at the elderly lady standing there. "Hi, Nettie."
"Hello, Vin, what did that bed do to you to deserve the beating you're giving it?" Nettie Wells asked.
"Feel like I's stuck in a fu...a cocoon," Tanner told her.
"I'm sure you do," Nettie said and moved to fix the blankets. "Where's Ezra?"
"They took him down for some tests ‘bout an hour ago. Doc's ticked at him."
"Let me guess Ezra's been spending too much time in Chris' room?"
"Yeah, ain't his fault...asked ‘im to."
"I doubt that makes a difference, Vin, I'm pretty sure he'd go up there with or without your influence," Wells told him.
"Ain't gonna argue with ya," Tanner said.
"Good, now how do you feel and I don't want to hear I'm fine!"
"Hell, Nettie, I ain't fine, but I ain't half as bad as they say. This damn tube is comin' out soon and..."
"They'll find you in Chris' room."
"Ain't gonna lie ta ya," the Texan said with a grin.
"Better not or Santa won't bring you any of them sweet treats you like."
"Hell, Nettie, you wouldn't do that to a sick man who's..."
"Cut the crap, Vin, or I'll get my Spencer Carbine," Nettie said, pleased that the old joke still made the young man laugh.
"That old thing don't got a firin' pin," Tanner said.
"Then I'll beat you with it."
"Thanks, Nettie," the Texan said.
"For what?"
"Ya always know just what ta say."
"I also know just what you need," Nettie said and placed a bag on the table.
"Is that what I think it is?"
"Chocolate chip muffins, I made them this morning," Nettie said and leaned in conspiratorially. "Just don't let anyone see them."
"You didn't clear them with Doc. Midland did you?" Tanner said with a smile.
"No, and I brought some for Ezra too so don't go thinking they're all for you," the elderly woman warned.
"What Ezra don't know ‘bout he ain't gonna miss."
"Maybe not, but you go eating all of them and you'll be sick and that means you'll be cut off any more treats."
"Ah, hell, ya sure took the wind outta my sails," Tanner griped.
"Good, ‘cause you're in no shape to go sailing anyway," Nettie told him and watched as he took a bite of the muffin and a smile formed on his pale face.
"Thanks, Nettie," Tanner said. "Ya been up ta see Chris?"
"I just came from there. Nathan's with him, but there's no change," Wells said sadly.
"How's Casey?"
"She's taking it hard...wants to go to Providence and make sure JD's okay, but I told her there's no point in doing that until Josiah hears from the people working with him," Nettie answered. Her niece had cried herself to sleep the night before and was broken hearted about not being with JD when he needed her. Josiah had explained that the special team working with the town's young people would not allow anyone inside.
"Hate bein' stuck in here..."
"I know you do, Son, but Chris would kick your ass if he knew you were worryin' over him instead of concentrating on getting better," Nettie said, turning as Ezra was wheeled into the room by an orderly. "Hello, Ezra?"
"Good morning, Mrs. Wells," Standish said and eased out of the chair. His side was throbbing as he sat on the edge of the bed.
"Why don't you lie back and I'll get the nurse for you?" Wells suggested.
"I assure you I'm..."
"Paler than a ghost and ya even got them dark circles...make ya look like a ghoul" Tanner said. "If yer real good Nettie brought me a treat and I'm willin' ta share with ya."
"Don't you mind him, Ezra, there's plenty for both of you," Nettie said and left the room in search of a nurse.
"Ya okay, Ez?"
"Not really, but I am well enough to advise you not to indulge in my half of the bounty you hold," Standish told him.
"Hell, Ez, there's only ‘nough fer one and splittin' it would jest be a tease..."
"Then I shall abscond with the whole..."
"Naw, I'll share with ya," Tanner interrupted with a grin.
"I thought you would see things my way," Ezra said and reached for a muffin as Nettie returned with a nurse.
"Mr. Standish, I have your medication right here," Thelma Lewis said and uncapped a syringe. She quickly injected the contents and hung a bag of antibiotics before doing the same for the second patient.
"Thanks, Thelma," Tanner said before she left.
"Mrs. Wells, your culinary talents are by far the best in the country."
"Thank you, Ezra, I'm glad you're enjoying the muffin," Nettie told him. She could tell both men were tired and settled back to watch over them once they finished the muffins and closed their eyes. Her thoughts turned to the injured blond in SICU and she silently prayed that he would make a complete recovery or JD Dunne would never forgive himself.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Peter Wellington knew he was making strides with JD Dunne, and hardened himself to the task before him. The young man would have to face everything he'd done before he could start to heal; even then it would be a hard road back.
Men like Jean Claud Rousseau knew how to tear people apart, especially young people who'd only just begun to live their lives. Rousseau's influence was evident in his victims and although some like Penny and JD were showing signs of breaking out, others were fighting every step of the process.
Wellington pushed open the door and entered to find the chair on its side and the arms broken. He glanced to his right and spotted Dunne huddled in the corner, shaking uncontrollably. He moved to the young man's side as JD covered his face with his hands. The evidence of the beatings he'd received during his ‘reprogramming' by Rousseau stood out visibly and Wellington wished they had the sonofabitch handy.
"JD, look at me," Wellington said.
"No," Dunne told him.
"What's wrong, JD?" Wellington asked, purposefully using the name each time he spoke.
"I'm so fucked."
"How, JD?"
"Buck's going to kill...kill me."
"Buck's your friend."
"Buck's a sinner...no, no he's not. Buck's not a sinner and neither is...neither was Chris."
"That's right they're not..."
"But I am..."
"No, JD, you're not. You're just a young man who fell under a madman's spell, but you're coming out of it now and you're going to be fine."
"I killed...I killed him and I can't face Buck. I can't..."
"You didn't kill anyone, JD," Wellington said softly, hoping he could get through to the distressed young man.
"Don't lie to me! I know what I did. God, I can't stop it! I've got blood on my hands that won't wash off! I killed him and it should have been me that died!"
"JD, Chris isn't dead..."
"God help me...I'm so sorry, Chris, I didn't mean to. I should..."
"JD, Chris is alive. He's in rough shape, but he's alive and he won't blame you for what happened. He'll blame the bastard for hurting you. Rousseau..."
"Is a dead man!" Dunne snapped, turning toward the door when it opened and someone new stepped into the room and motioned to the man talking to him.
"JD, I'll be right back," Wellington assured the young man before leaving him alone.
JD swallowed convulsively as nausea churned through his gut. Images flashed across his mind, pictures that revealed everything he'd done. How could he have been so blinded? How could he have let Rousseau get to him? How could he have done that to Chris Larabee?
JD closed his eyes tightly as his hand came up and made a sweeping downward arc as if he still held the knife that cut deeply into Chris' body. He opened his eyes and stared at his hands, seeing the blood as if it still stained them in a crimson tide. His body shook with rage and fear, fear that he'd done something he could never forgive himself. Worse still, something Buck would never forgive him for.
"I'm sorry, Buck...I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."
"JD, Buck doesn't blame you for what happened. No one does," Wellington said once Seagrove had given him the news that Jane Constantine had given them Rousseau's whereabouts. Unfortunately, upon arriving at the clearing, they'd found only one body and signs of a small aircraft having recently been there. Rousseau was nowhere to be found.
"He should. I should have been able to fight that bastard."
"Maybe...if you were on even ground, Kid, but Rousseau used drugs and from the looks of you I'd say he used fists..."
"Said he would make the pain stop," Dunne said, turning watery eyes toward the man kneeling in front of him. "I tried to fight him. I knew he was wrong about Chris, but they kept chanting and he kept hurting me and he promised to make the pain stop and I needed the pain to stop."
"I know you did, JD, and Rousseau used that. He used drugs to make the pain worse and then gave you other drugs to make you feel better and then told you the pain would come back if you didn't do as you were told," Wellington told him. "We probably should have taken you to get checked, but I figured it would be best if we broke Rousseau's control over you first since nothing seemed to be broken...nothing physical anyway."
"I'm okay," Dunne whispered softly.
"No, you're not, but you will be. I don't think Rousseau had you as far gone as he hoped and that made my job a little easier. I'm going to call Buck and have him arrange for someone to pick you up and bring you back to Billings."
"I don't think they'll come for me."
"You might just be surprised about that, Son," Wellington told him. "Come on, there's a bed with your name on it in the next room."
"What if I try to escape?"
"You're not a prisoner, besides where would you go, Kid?" Wellington said and reached out to help the younger man to his feet. He supported him until they reached the bed and eased Dunne onto the small cot. "Go ahead and lie back. No one's going to hurt you here."
"Am kind of tired," the Bostonian said and laid back as Wellington pulled a warm blanket up over him.
"Sleep's the best thing for you right now, Son," the agent said before leaving the room and easing the door shut behind him. He knew JD had a rough road ahead of him, but with the help of his friends he would come out on top.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Buck stretched out on the bed and smiled at the woman standing in the open doorway. She hadn't noticed he was awake and he studied her with a heart that ached to hold her. Through the years since their first meeting he'd played the game of chase with Inez Recillos, but in recent months he'd been thinking seriously about the future. He briefly wondered what the others would say if they knew where his mind was going. Would they believe he was really ready to settle down with one woman? Did it really matter?
"Good afternoon, Senor," Recillos said, turning and moving to the bed with a Cheshire-like grin on her face. She'd spent the morning making love with this virile man and had stayed beside him until he'd finally given in to his need for rest.
"My God, Inez, you're beautiful," Wilmington managed and pulled her down beside him. He kissed her full lips, heady with the excitement that flowed through his body.
"You are not so bad yourself, Senor..."
"Don't you think Senor is a bit too formal?"
"Yes, it is, but it is so damn sexy," Recillos told him seductively, reaching for his cell phone when the familiar tone sounded in the room.
Buck took it, flipped it open, but refused to release his hold on her as he answered. "Wilmington."
"Buck, it's Pete."
"Pete, how's JD?" Wilmington asked, and felt Inez's grip on his arm tighten expectantly.
"That's why I'm calling, Buck. JD is coming out of it. He knows what happened and he needs to be with you guys."
"I'm afraid of what I'll do if I see him right now, Pete."
"I understand, but he needs help, Buck. Perhaps he could stay with one of the others until your head's on straight."
"I'll talk to Josiah and Nathan," Wilmington said. "How soon can he be picked up?"
"The sooner the better. He should also be seen by a doctor, but I figured it'd be better if he see someone he knows."
"What kind of doctor?"
"Medical and psychiatric. The kid's been through hell, Buck, and no matter how angry you are you need to remember he's a victim in this too."
"So everyone keeps telling me," Wilmington said softly. "I'll call you as soon as I know who's coming for JD."
"All right. How's Chris?"
"No change. Fever's still high and he's on a damn respirator, but if I know Chris he'll be fighting to get the damn thing out before he's even awake," the wary rogue explained.
"Keep me updated."
"You got it...thanks, Pete," Wilmington said and hung up before returning his attention to the woman lying beside him.
"Buck, I know how hard this is on you, but JD needs you."
"No, not right now he doesn't, Inez, not in the mood I'm in," Wilmington said and hit the number he had keyed into his phone.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Nathan looked up from the book he'd been reading and stretched as Josiah entered the room. "You're early."
"I just got a call from Buck."
"Is he okay?"
"He's fine, but Peter Wellington called to say JD was ready to come home."
"Already," Jackson asked worriedly.
"It seems JD realizes what he did was wrong. He's a mess both physically and emotionally and Pete thinks he'd be better off being treated by people he knows. I spoke with Midland and she's arranging for him to see her in the ER as soon as I get back."
"You're going to get him?"
"That's why I'm here. Buck's in no shape to go get JD..."
"No, he's not," Jackson agreed.
"It'll take me a while to get back, but I wanted to make sure you knew where I was if anything comes up," Sanchez explained.
"I'll call," Jackson said and returned his attention to Larabee once his friend had left. Chris' temperature had come down some and it looked as if the surgery to repair his leg would go ahead the next morning. The nurse continued to care for her patient and Nathan knew it was time for him to leave the room when she turned saddened eyes in his direction. He reached for his book and left the room as the woman pulled the heavy drapes and closed off the room from onlookers.
Nathan made his way toward the stairs and hurried down the two flights, exiting on the floor where Vin and Ezra were patients. He entered the room to find both men awake and talking quietly.
"Nathan, is everything all right?" Standish asked.
"Yeah, the nurse needed some time with Chris," Jackson explained simply. "Any word on when you two are getting out?"
"Dr. Simmons seems to think I can have my discharge papers tomorrow morning," Standish explained.
"Guess that means he likes my comp'ny more'n yours," Tanner griped. "They're taking the tube out in the morning...be a few more days b'for they'll let me outta here."
"I am not going to argue about whose company the medical staff prefers because I am willing to celebrate my escape from this facility..."
"Shut up, Ez," Tanner snapped.
"I was simply..."
"Rubbin' it in," the Texan said and turned to Jackson. "Anythin' new on JD?"
"Wellington called to say they got through to JD. Josiah's gone to get him," Jackson answered and saw the anger in Tanner's blue eyes. "What happened was not JD's fault, Vin."
"I know, Nathan, but..."
"No buts...they don't work in this one. JD's got enough to deal with and he'll need help to fight the demons on his back. Buck's gonna be hard enough on JD, Vin, he doesn't need anyone else coming down on him."
"I ain't gonna come down on ‘im, Nate, just hope the kid is strong enough to face what he did."
"JD's not perfect, Vin, if he was he wouldn't be one of us," Standish said.
"Seems to me I heard Chris say that a while ago," Tanner sighed heavily and knew the team had some rough patches to get through, but none more so than Chris and JD.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
The drive to Providence had been a solemn one for Josiah Sanchez as he thought about the young man he would be picking up. JD had always been feisty and had proven his worth on more than one occasion during his time with the agency. Josiah pulled the SUV into a spot near the main building and exited the vehicle under a dark sky that was speckled throughout with stars.
Sanchez took a deep breath of the cool mountain air before striding toward the structure now under the FBI's control. He stepped up to the door and knocked loudly before turning and looking out over the compound. There were several armed agents walking the perimeter as if they expected Rousseau's return.
Josiah wished the cult leader would show up because he'd give the man a lesson in the meaning of going ‘old testament'. Sanchez didn't consider himself a wholly religious man, but at one time he'd been a full-fledged priest. That was until he'd fallen on hard times when his fate had not only been tested, but pushed to the limits of trust until it snapped and he could no longer justify the existence of a God who seemed to have turned his back on his children. That time was in the past now and his faith had been restored to a certain degree and he knew, deep down, God existed and watched over them all.
"Can I help you?" a man asked when the door opened.
"I'm looking for Peter Wellington or Charles Seagrove."
"They're in a meeting right now," Miles Carter explained.
"I'm supposed to pick up JD Dunne."
"You'll have to wait until they're out of the meeting,"
"Can I wait for them inside?" Sanchez asked.
"Miles, who is it?"
"Some guy who says he's here to see you or Agent Wellington," Carter answered.
"You must be Josiah Sanchez."
"In the flesh," the ex-preacher answered.
"I'm Charles Seagrove. Peter just went to check on JD so you might as well follow me," Seagrove ordered and moved deeper into the building.
"How is JD?" Sanchez asked.
"Considering what that bastard did to him...and made him do to Larabee I'd say the kid is in rough shape," Seagrove said and stopped in front of a closed door. "Peter has done a damn good job of bringing JD back, but it's going to take a long time for him to face what happened and realize he's as much a victim as Larabee is. Tell me you don't blame JD."
"I don't," the older man answered honestly.
"Good, because JD needs friends at his side right now and he doesn't need to be a martyr."
"He won't be," Sanchez said as the door was opened and he had his first good look at the youngest member of the agency.
"Josiah..."
"Hello, son," Sanchez said as he moved into the room.
"Oh God, Josiah I didn't...I didn't mean to...I fucked up I..."
"Easy, JD, no one blames you for what happened..."
"Yes, you do, Josiah. I can see it in your eyes. You think I'm guilty and you're right! I wanted to kill him...I wanted to do what Father John...what that bastard wanted me to do!" Dunne snapped and grabbed the chair. He threw it at the wall and searched for anything else he could throw, but the room was designed to keep him safe. "I killed him...I..."
"JD, Chris is not dead," Sanchez said and reached for the younger man who tried to pull away. "JD, I want to help...we all do."
"I don't want your help, Josiah...I just want..."
"Tell me what you want," Sanchez said and knew Seagrove and Wellington had left the room and closed the door.
"I want...God, Josiah, I want this to be a bad dream, but it's not."
"No, son, it's not," Sanchez said and felt the young man's body tremble. Dunne was no longer looking at him, but at his own hands as if they were something he had never seen before.
"I can still see his blood on my hands, Josiah. I can't make it go away...I'll never be clean again...always have Chris' blood on my hands."
"No, you won't, JD, not if you let us help you," Sanchez said, sinking to the floor as Dunne's body seemed to go limp. He held the youngest member of the team as his body trembled and helpless screams escaped his throat.
"I didn't mean to, Josiah...God help me I didn't mean to do that, but Father John...he told me he'd make the pain stop...he told me Chris was a sinner..."
"I know, JD," Sanchez said and gently rocked the distraught Bostonian.
"Buck...God, Buck will ne...never believe me..."
"Don't sell Buck short...he knows the truth and he'll help you through this," the ex-preacher explained and held the young man until the trembling stopped. He stayed where he was until Dunne lifted his head from his chest and looked at him. "Are you ready to go home?"
"No, but I guess I don't have a choice."
"We always have a choice, Son, it's just a matter of making the right one," Sanchez said and helped Dunne stand. "Come on...Doc Midland's waiting to take a look at you."
"And Doc James?"
"Probably," Sanchez said and opened the door.
"Is everything okay?" Wellington asked.
"I think so," the ex-preacher answered.
"JD," Wellington said and waited for the young man to look at him. "You've got friends, Son, lean on them and let them help you."
"I will...thank you."
"You're welcome," the man said and handed Dunne a card. "You ever need to talk my number's on that card and I promise I'll always take your call."
Dunne nodded and shook the man's hand before following Sanchez outside and getting into the car. He fastened his seatbelt and leaned back against the seat as he closed his eyes. It was going to be a long ride home, but he wasn't in the mood for small talk and hoped Sanchez understood his need for silence, his need to face his own guilt.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Vin watched as Ezra pushed aside the curtain and sat on a chair next to his bed. Standish had been given his discharge orders, but Vin knew the conman would not leave until they had word on Larabee's condition. The blond had been taken to surgery to repair the damage to his left leg.
"Chris will come through this in true Larabee fashion," Standish said, and hoped he was right. He knew how frustrated the Texan was and wished there was some way to ease his fears. Unfortunately when it came to Chris Larabee, Vin's emotional control usually slipped.
Vin simply closed his eyes and silently cursed the tube in his side. He knew Midland was doing her rounds and hopefully she'd take the damn thing out so he could be there when Chris came out of surgery. Deep down Vin knew Chris probably wouldn't even know he was there, but he would and right now he needed that touch to assure himself Larabee was okay.
"Josiah went to get JD," Standish said.
"So I heard," Tanner observed softly.
"He's going to need our help."
"I know, but right now I don't think it's a good idea fer me ta see him."
"I feel the same way, but I have seen what people like Rousseau can do to impressionable young people, especially when he uses drugs and pain," Standish offered, but grew silent as the door opened.
"Good morning, gentlemen," Midland said with a smile as a nurse followed her inside. "Ezra, I thought I signed your discharge papers."
"Indeed you did, Dr. Midland."
"Then what are you doing here?"
"I...I..."
"Easy, Ezra, I figured you'd stay around long enough to find out about Chris and, no, right now there's nothing new to report," Midland said.
"Doc, did Josiah get here with JD?" Tanner asked.
"Not yet. They should be arriving shortly," Midland answered.
"Is JD all right?" Standish asked.
"I doubt that very much after everything he's been through, but Susan is available and she's going to be there when JD arrives," the physician explained.
"Dr. James will know how to treat JD," the gambler said.
"Yes, she will and since I have several other patients to see before JD gets here I'm going to take care of that tube you're so fond of, Vin."
"Thank God," Tanner said and eased back on the blankets.
"Do I need to go over the procedure?"
"No," Tanner said and took a deep breath as Midland pulled the tube out. He cried out and gasped for breath as a hand was placed on his shoulder. "Sonofabitch...for...forgot about that part. Can't they figure out a better way ta torture patients, Doc?"
"Unfortunately no one's found a better way yet," Midland offered and allowed the nurse to place a bandage over the area. She made several notations on his chart before closing it and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Vin, I know you're worried about Chris, but you need to take care of yourself...that goes for you as well, Ezra."
"I assure you..."
"You assure me nothing. Need I remind you how many times you went up to Chris' room when you were supposed to be resting?"
"Hell, Ez, I think she's got spies everywhere," Tanner said.
"Didn't I tell you I joined the spy of the month club?" Midland quipped before growing serious once more. "I know there's no point in telling you not to worry or in telling you to go home and rest, Ezra, but I do want your word that you'll take it easy and won't do anything stupid!"
"How long will Chris be in surgery?" Standish asked.
"It depends on what Dr. Frost finds," Midland answered. "Buck and Nathan are in the SICU waiting room and I'm sure they'll come fill you in as soon as they know anything. Try not to worry...David is damn good at what he does."
"Thanks, Doc," Tanner said.
"Vin, I'll have the nurse bring you a wheelchair," Midland said. "Make sure you use it and Ezra, don't let me see you pushing him around."
Vin didn't bother to protest because the woman knew him well enough to know that once the tube was out he'd find a way up to the SICU. He closed his eyes and thought about Larabee and how much the man's friendship and brotherhood meant to him. He silently prayed that things would work out and that Chris and JD would find a way to put this in the past.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Jean Claud Rousseau knew he could not stay here indefinitely, but for now he was safe. Jacobs had found him a motel, cheap, but clean on the outskirts of Billings and had even rented a car for his use. He knew Jacobs would do anything if the price was right and he had the money to see that it stayed that way.
Rousseau had given Jacobs the money to get him a new laptop, one that was capable of a wireless connection. Now was the time when he could sit back and do a little research on his newest conquest. JD Dunne was young and impressionable and even if the FBI agents were able to reverse his teachings, Dunne would be an easy target. Chris Larabee was a problem, but he could also be dealt with if he recovered from the injuries inflicted by a member of his own team.
It was funny how that had worked so well once JD had fallen under his spell, and perhaps it was something he could incorporate in his programming techniques. It would be a simple matter to make sure a close friend or family member was on hand in order to prove the new converts loyalty.
Rousseau clicked on the button and waited for the TV to warm up. It took nearly a minute, but once it was tuned in the picture was pretty clear. He tuned into the local news channel and wasn't surprised to find Chris Larabee and JD Dunne were the top news story of the day. His own picture was also shown, but it was from several years ago and he'd changed during that time.
‘Father John' might be at his lowest right now, but he was far from finished and as soon as he had everything in position he would make his move. He would leave the country with JD Dunne at his side and Chris Larabee buried deep in the ground.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Josiah pulled his vehicle to a stop in the parking area and turned to the young man seated beside him. JD hadn't said a word during the trip and pretended he was asleep the whole time. Josiah knew Dunne wouldn't talk until he was ready, but until that time came he needed to know he wasn't alone.
"Are you ready to go in, Son?"
"I'd rather just go ho...home."
"You need to let Dr. Midland check you over, JD."
"I'm fine, Josiah..."
"No, no you're not, Son, but you will be if you let your friends stand by you."
"I don't have any friends."
"That's where you're wrong, Son, you have friends who will stand by you and won't let you down," Sanchez vowed and hoped the younger man believed him. He could only watch as Dunne released his seatbelt and climbed shakily from the car. Josiah felt tired, but he knew the Bostonian would need someone at his side, and he'd make damn sure he was there. He took the keys from the ignition and exited the SUV.
"I don't know if I...if I can do this, Josiah."
"You can, Son, as long as you let us help you," Sanchez assured him.
"Is Chris...is he alive?"
"He's alive, JD, and he'll stay that way. We all know how stubborn Chris Larabee can be," Sanchez observed. "Come on, son, let's go see Dr. Midland."
"Guess I don't have much choice," Dunne said.
"We always have a choice, Son, but sometimes we have to let others show us the right one," the ex-preacher said as they walked toward the ER doors.
"Will you...will you stay with me, Josiah?"
"For as long as you want, JD," Sanchez vowed and held the door for the younger man. He glanced around and spotted Stacey Midland and Susan James standing at the desk and felt Dunne stop beside him. "It's okay, JD, I'm here."
"JD, come with me," Donna Oliver said.
"If it's okay I'd like to stay with him," Sanchez said.
"That's fine, Donna, let him stay with JD," Midland answered and joined them as they entered a cubicle. "JD, we're going to run some tests and make sure whatever drugs he used are out of your system. I'll need you to change into a gown so I can take a look at those bruises."
"The bruises are nothing, Doc."
"Let me be the judge of that or else someone might decide my job is obsolete and let patients self diagnose themselves," Midland teased.
"Doc, how is...how is Chris?" Dunne managed, hands fisted in the gown he'd been handed.
"JD..."
"Please, Doc, I need to know."
"He's in surgery to repair the damage to his left leg," Midland explained.
"God...Josiah, I'm sorry...I didn't. I didn't mean to do it! I should have been able to...able to stop, but I couldn't. He said he'd stop the pain if I did it."
"I know, Son, it's not your fault," Sanchez said and wished he could do something to ease the guilt he saw in the young man's face. "Why don't I help you get changed so the doc can take a look at you?"
"Guess so," Dunne said as the nurse closed the curtain and he began to undress.
"What happened to your side, JD?" Sanchez asked and saw the frown on Dunne's face.
"I don't know...don't remember," the Bostonian answered and stared at the bandage on his right side. He seemed to remember someone looking at it and asking him when it happened, but that was all he could remember.
"Dr. Midland will take care of it," Sanchez told him and helped him out of his clothing.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Buck glanced sideways at the man seated in the wheelchair and wondered if he should return Vin to his room. Ezra was half asleep in the chair next to the Texan and he knew both men belonged in bed, but neither man would leave until they had word on Chris Larabee.
Buck looked into the empty cup and tossed it into the trash before running his hands through his hair. His thoughts turned to the young man who'd been his roommate since Larabee had formed the agency. JD was impressionable and enthusiastic and could be damned annoying at times, but the kid was damn good at what he did. Hell, there was no one who could even come close to Dunne when it came to computers and programming and hacking into impossible sites.
"Buck, any word yet?"
"Nothing yet, Nettie," Wilmington answered softly and hoped Tanner and Standish stayed asleep.
"You look like you haven't slept in days," the elderly woman observed as she sat across from him.
"To tell you the truth sleep's been something of a rare commodity lately," the rogue answered.
"It comes with the territory," Nettie said and reached for his hands. "Everything's going to be all right, Buck. It will just take time."
"I know, Nettie, but God help me I'm so angry at JD right now I'd probably tear him apart with my bare hands if he was here."
"That's understandable...anger is normal especially when it comes to the two people you consider yourself closest to. You and Chris go back a long way and JD's friendship might be new, but it's deep. I know you blame JD..."
"Not really..."
"Yes, Buck, you do, but you'll soon realize he was not in control," Nettie explained. "He is going to need someone to lean on and I know you'll be there for him."
"I will, Nettie, but not right now," Wilmington said, standing as a familiar figure entered the waiting room. "Doc, how's Chris?"
"Sit down before someone mistakes you for a patient, Buck," David Frost ordered and took the seat next to Nettie Wells. He looked at the three members of Larabee's team and took a deep breath before speaking. "Chris is as stubborn and resilient as you boys give him credit for and I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd opened his eyes and tried to give me a lecture on what I was doing."
"Sounds like Larabee," Tanner said.
"He's being settled in SICU and the staff there will be keeping an eye on things, but he seems to be responding to treatment although his temperature is still high," Frost explained.
"Do you know what's causing it?" Nettie asked.
"No, but we think it could be a secondary infection and Dr. Samantha Grady will be checking his file. She's a specialist and she knows what she's doing," Frost said and stood up. "Now I know you'll want to see Chris, but the nurses need time to get him settled so wait here and someone will come get you when he's ready for visitors."
"Thanks, Doc," Wilmington said as Jackson entered. He'd overheard what Frost had to say and sat down tiredly.
"Nathan, did you see JD?" Nettie asked.
"Not yet, Josiah's with him and they're running tests on him now. Susan James is going to speak with him as well. Hopefully she can convince him that none of this is his fault," Jackson said and looked pointedly at Wilmington. "He needs you..."
"Not right now he doesn't, Nathan," Wilmington snapped and strode out of the room. He made his way along the corridor, his feet taking him where his mind wanted to be. He knew where Larabee's SICU was and stopped in front of it, but the curtains were closed and he knew the staff was doing their job.
Buck leaned heavily against the wall and knew he was being hard on JD, but God help him he wanted to kick the younger man's ass right now. There was no way in hell he could even look at Dunne without tearing him a new hole, so it was better that he just stay clear of him until he knew he could control the anger surging through him. He stood and turned as he heard the curtains being drawn back and smiled at the woman standing there.
"Can I see him, Kathi?"
"I was just coming to tell you Chris was ready for visitors, but he is still heavily sedated and on a ventilator."
"How long before you take him off the ventilator?"
"Probably later today," Kathi answered and moved aside so Wilmington could enter.
Buck entered the room and listened to the clicks and beeps that told him Chris was still fighting. He had no idea what most of the equipment was for, but at least it meant Larabee was alive. He moved to the bed and stared down at the pale face and hoped the doctors found out what was causing the fever and did something about it.
"Damn, Stud, you'd better keep fighting because I don't know what I'll do about JD if anything happens to you," Wilmington said and pulled a chair closer to the bed. He ran his fingers through his hair and silently prayed for the strength and guidance he would need when the time came to face JD Dunne.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
JD laid back on the pillows and felt the emotional turmoil of the last week rolling through him in a tidal wave of pain and fear. How could he have let Father John control him? How could he let the bastard turn him against his friends...against Chris?
"JD, take it easy," Sanchez said and placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder. He felt a small tremor course through Dunne and knew the Bostonian was having a hard time dealing with what he'd been forced to do. He knew he could do nothing to help JD, not until he'd faced things and understood that he wasn't to blame for what Rousseau had forced him to do.
Dunne turned away from the ex-preacher and closed his eyes as images continued to haunt him. He saw Chris, tied down, helpless, fighting against the restraints, cursing ‘Father John' while trying to get through to him, but he was too far gone to hear Chris. He could picture the knife in his hands, could hear the others chanting, and could feel the excitement as he lifted his hand.
"I'm sorry, Chris...God help me I'm so sorry."
"It's all right, JD, everything will be okay."
"No it won't Josiah!" Dunne snapped, anger at himself making his eyes fill with rage. "I tried to kill Chris and he still might die and I don't blame Buck if he wants me out of his life!' I don't blame you if you tell me to leave because I am as guilty as the fucking scum we help arrest!"
Josiah tried to hold on to the raging tiger who did everything he could to escape the strong arms that held him. JD latched onto anything within reach and threw it across the room. Sanchez looked up to see Stacy Midland and Susan James hurry toward them.
"JD..."
"Let go of me, Josiah!"
"JD, I need you to listen to me," Midland said.
"No, I need to get out of here. I need to..."
"You need to let us help you," Susan told him.
"I don't need your help!" Dunne spat.
"Yes, you do, Son," Sanchez said, barely able to contain the youngest member of the team. He heard Susan James speaking with a nurse, but had to concentrate on the man he held. "John Daniel..."
"Don't you call me that, Josiah! Don't you ever call me that name again!"
"Okay, JD, I won't, but you need to calm down now," Sanchez said.
"No, I don't! I need to get away from here! What the hell is that, Doc?"
"It's something to help you, JD," Susan James explained.
"I don't want it!" Dunne said and struggled to get free of Sanchez's restraining arms, but soon felt the sharp tip of the needle in his arm. "Damn you...I said I don't want it!"
Sanchez held onto the younger man until he felt him go limp in his arms. He eased him back on the bed and saw moisture trails on his cheeks, evidence of the sorrow and pain JD Dunne was feeling.
"Josiah, I'm sorry."
"You've got nothing to be sorry for, Son," Sanchez assured him.
"JD, I'm going to take a look at you now," Midland said softly.
"Doc, he's got a bandage on his right side," Sanchez told her.
"Thank you, Josiah, if you would step outside..."
"No...stay, Josiah...please stay," Dunne said and grabbed the older man's arm.
"Doc?"
"JD, Josiah can stay, but I need him to stand back so we can take a look at you," Midland told him.
"I'll be right over there if you need me, JD."
"Okay...thanks, Josiah," Dunne said and closed his eyes. He sighed heavily as the medication and exhaustion finally lulled him toward sleep.
"Stacey, I have a patient to see, but I'll be in the hospital until three and I'd like to speak with JD when he's ready," James explained.
"Thanks, Susan, I'll let you know when I'm finished and have the test results," Midland answered as a nurse entered and she ordered blood work and other tests to be performed. She eased back on the bandage and looked at the wound to the young man's side. It didn't look recent, but it also showed signs of infection and she knew it would have to be drained and cleaned so that it could heal properly.
"That doesn't look good," Sanchez observed.
"It's infected," Midland said. "Monica, start an IV and I'm ordering antibiotics every six hours."
"Yes, Doctor," Monica Winslow said as Midland began writing orders on his chart.
Josiah watched as the medical staff continued to treat JD and silently prayed that the whole team would find the strength they needed to get past the hurt and betrayal.
"Josiah, I am admitting him for observation," Midland advised.
"I'll let the others know," Sanchez said. "Are you going to put him in with Vin?"
"I don't think that's a good idea right now."
"Vin doesn't hold what happened against JD."
"I know he doesn't, but right now I don't think JD's in any shape to answer questions or face the rest of the team. It's going to take a lot of work on everyone's part to make your team whole again."
"I know," Sanchez agreed and glanced at the sleeping patient. "JD's strong and once Chris is awake and on the mend things will be easier for him."
"He'll need your strength, Josiah, they all will," Midland said.
"I'll be there for all of them, Doc," Sanchez vowed and suddenly realized just how tired he was.
"You should go home and rest," the physician advised.
"Told JD I'd be here for him," Sanchez said.
"He'll probably sleep most of the day and I've ordered several tests to make sure we're not going to have to deal with any damn surprises," Midland told him.
"He needs to know he's not alone," the ex-preacher said.
"Yes, he does, Josiah. I'll see if there are any private rooms available and have a cot placed in there for you," Midland offered.
"Thanks, Doc."
"You're welcome, now go get something to eat and update the others on JD's condition. By the time you get back we should have him moved upstairs and you can check with the information desk to find out his room number," Midland advised, relieved when the man finally left the room. Larabee's team had been through hell and back and it looked like that trip was going to be repeated.
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PHOENIX
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