Chapter 16: Dragons

There was no hesitation this time, no moment where disbelief froze her brain; no sooner than Brooklyn felt the man's hand on her did she begin fighting back. She tried to open her mouth to scream, but his hand was over it in a flash to prevent just that action. She heard the distant ping of the pipe hitting the ground as if through a tunnel.

It was already so late, well past seven and the office district they were in had practically emptied already. It wasn't full dark yet and what sunlight there was made the whole situation slightly surreal to Brooklyn. Weren't these things supposed to happen at night?

She felt her back being slammed unceremoniously against the wall as she struggled. She couldn't imagine that her efforts were doing much against the larger man but she couldn't stop herself from wiggling in his grasp; pinching and scratching whatever her fingers met.

She felt him grunt when her knee found his groin but the hit had been wild and there hadn't been much power to it. Before she could try again, he whirled her around, slamming her face into the wall. She felt the scratching of the bricks, smelled the sweat of the man's hand on her face, and she worried, not just for herself, but for Warren who was barely moving from where he fell on the pavement.

From the way he was moving, his hands struggling push himself up as his head twisted, his eyes screwed shut in agony, she knew he wasn't unconscious. However, she could tell he was struggling against the affects of the blow to find his footing, so to speak. She wasn't sure how long it would take him to get up.

But she knew they didn't have much time.

The man behind her adjusted his grip so he was twisting her wrist up her back making her whimper in pain. He would either need to release her mouth or her arm to grab the knife she had barely registered at his side. It was, she could recognize it even now, the very same knife he had threatened her with before.

If he released her mouth, that gave her a chance to scream for help but that seemed unlikely to come as Warren was laying out on the pavement in full view of the street and no one had rushed to his aide. Likely, there was no one near by at this time of night. Still, if she was lucky there was someone within shouting distance who just wasn't looking around at the moment. If he released the painful grip he had on her wrist, that gave her a moment in which she could fight him off. However, they both knew from her previous struggles that she was hardly a threat to him physically.

Brooklyn practically heard those thoughts and considerations go through his head even as they went through hers. She prepared her vocal cords to scream, she readied her body to duck or dodge or roll out of the way. He only needed one moment. Once he had his hands on the knife he would be able to kill her with one well placed thrust. It was, she knew, his only purpose for being there. He didn't need much time, just enough.

Brooklyn felt the grip on her arm tighten and knew he was going to release her mouth. She took in a deep breath.

Warren scrambled ungracefully to his feet and staggered forward with more determination than any real skill.

The man let Brooklyn's mouth go but, instead of reached right for his knife, he was forced to knock Warren out of the way.

Still dazed from the blow to the head, Warren fell over with barely any effort.

Brooklyn took advantage of her moment and loud out an ear piercing, wordless screech. At the same moment, she threw her body back causing the wrist he had in a vise like grip to be stretched even further out of place. The agony shot up her arm but didn't slow her backwards shove at all. The will to live overpowered the pain.

Being slightly off balance from having to deflect Warren's sloppy assault, the man was actually staggered from Brooklyn's push. His grip on her arm loosened just slightly.

Just enough.

Brooklyn's thin wrist slipped through his grasp. Without thinking, Brooklyn rolled away from him and when she stopped, her fingers came to rest on the dropped pipe.

Knowing she should run, unwilling to leave Warren defenseless, Brooklyn lifted the pipe, ready to take on her attacker.

She saw the indecision in his dark brown eyes that were partially hidden, once again, behind a ski mask. Stay and finish the job or run and return another day at a better opportunity? Brooklyn knew the choice he would make even before he turned and fled.

XXXXXXXXXX

Brooklyn could tell the precise moment that Jack arrived.

She had been ordered by him over the phone when she had called in to report what had had happened that she was not to leave the hospital until he got there.

Since the bright, active hospital felt much safer than returning to their hotel room, Brooklyn hadn't had any trouble agreeing.

She was fine. Her arm was sore and bruised, her wrist even more so, but the doctor assured her that there was no lasting damage done. It was Warren that was in question. If the bruise on his head was any indication, Brooklyn would have declared him in terrible condition. It had grown to the size of an egg and was tender, sore, and throbbing in time with Warren's heartbeat. However, the doctor assured her that the bruise was no proof of anything. No bones had been broken, the skin hadn't even broken, and the tests the doctor performed to check for a concussion had all been passed. Warren should be watched carefully for the next 24 hours, the doctor told her, but he was certain that he would be fine.

Warren, in fact, was more concerned for Brooklyn than himself. Since she was more concerned for him than for herself, she couldn't fault him for it.

They were waiting in one of the ER's rooms for Jack to arrive. It would take a few hours since he would have to fly out. However, a great deal of that time had been taken up by the doctors themselves. The rest they spent licking each others wounds, fussing over the other, and discussing what had happened and what it could mean.

It hadn't taken long for Mr. Ozera to arrive, flustered and displeased. No sooner than he arrived than he started demanding explanations. Brooklyn had told him the tale. The attack, being found about five seconds after the attacker fled by an office worker who had been leaving his building just as she screamed, and about the assurances of the doctors. Mr. Ozera had nodded once, accepting her story without questions, and left to go make some phone calls. One of which, she knew, would be to Jack who she had already called at that time.

The ER was noisy, busy, and the sounds of phones and people was actually comforting to her. She hadn't thought it would be. Her nerves were well and truly frazzled from the ordeal and all she really wanted was to curl up next to Warren on her bed in the hotel room and sleep. The adrenaline draining from her system had made her so tired she found herself almost falling asleep as she waited on Jack. However, the noise all around her, instead of being annoying, was proof that she was surrounded by good, safe people. There was no one there who would hurt her, no one who would hurt Warren. She found herself not wanting to leave at all.

She did, however, get to curl up next to Warren. He made room for her on the examination table he was laid out on and they curled into each other. They caressed each other, not to arouse or please, but just to assure themselves that the other was alright.

Jack's presence was announced, not verbally or with any sound at all, but by a strange change in the air. Brooklyn couldn't explain it, but she knew just before Jack pulled back the curtain that had given the pair some privacy, that he was there.

“Explain.” he demanded simply as he walked forward, Crispin just a step behind him. The siren still had his trademark calming smile on his face, but it was belied by the worry in his eyes. Jack's face was drawn and serious.

Brooklyn once again repeated the story but had to pause many times as Jack tossed out a question or demanded she expand on something she said. Every now and then, Warren would interrupt to tell what he had seen. He didn't dispute her recount, he just added to it.

“I guess we can officially rule out these two attacks as just random muggings.” Jack said when he was finally satisfied that he had extracted all the information he could from her. His eyes turned searching as he roamed their bodies looking and cataloging their injuries himself. Neither of them had even made a move to get up from the table or release the other but Jack hadn't demanded they do so. “Are you two alright?”

“We're fine.” Brooklyn promised as she leaned her head on Warren's shoulder. It was strange, she figured that the attacks should be traumatizing to her. Yet, every time she revisited the memories, it was like watching a TV show. Nothing seemed real and, since that allowed her to cope with happened, she didn't bother to try and change it. “You didn't have to fly up.” He didn't, but he did. Jack was just that kind of man.

“This is getting too dangerous.” Jack shook his head. “I'm going to have to pull the plug on this assignment.”

“What?” Brooklyn sat up suddenly. “You can't. We haven't found the evidence we need yet.”

“Brooklyn, you're not trained for this.” Jack told her. “And clearly, your life is the one being threatened. I can't let this continue.”

“But we don't know who the traitor is.” Brooklyn tried again. “We can't just stop. Jack, we're so close. Eisenhower is the last one we need to investigate. Let us at least finish.”

“When did you get so determined?” Jack asked with a wry smile.

“Because you trusted me enough to do this.” Brooklyn said simply. Then she was awarded the great pleasure of seeing Jack surprised. She continued before he could speak, “Jack, I would never give up if you asked me to do something. If you want this done, then it will be done. I would do anything for you, any of us would.”

Jack cleared his throat and looked away, his way of blushing and stammering in embarrassment. “I appreciate your dedication, Brooklyn, but-”

“I'm with her, Jack.” Warren cut him off with a grin despite his pounding head. “I let myself get surprised this time, I got lazy because we were so far from Paradise Falls that I forgot he was a threat. I won't make that same mistake again. If he comes back, I'm going to take him down. We can use him to get information on the traitor. You know we can.”

Jack shook his head with a smile. Not like he was telling them 'no', more like he couldn't believe they would insist. He should have known better, he thought. He had good people working for him. “Very well. You can stay in. But I need you to be more careful from now on. I don't know why he's targeted Brooklyn, but he has and we need to deal with it. Warren, stay alert, I don't want this to happen a third time.”

“A third time?” Mr. Ozera's voice was dangerously calm when came around the curtain, his cold glare on Jack.

Jack, who didn't look at all bothered by the stare, said simply, “Hello, Ozera.”

“What did you mean by 'a third time', Jack?” Mr. Ozera asked. Neither Brooklyn, Warren, or Crispin made a move to inform Mr. Ozera. If Jack wanted to lie to their boss, they wouldn't interfere.

“It's happened once before. I've got everything under control.” Jack shrugged as if it meant nothing.

“And the reason you decided not to tell me was...?” Mr. Ozera prompted.

“It wasn't necessarily related to the Intrebari case.” Jack looked away from Mr. Ozera with disinterest, as if the conversation meant nothing to him.

“Jack, you've been lying to me again.” Mr. Ozera accused angrily.

“Not at all, Ozera.” Jack itched at his face, doing more to anger Mr. Ozera with his nonchalance than the lie. The three spectators knew he was doing it on purpose. “I had no proof that the first attack was anything more than an isolated incident.”

“And were you planning on telling me after this second one if I hadn't already known?” Mr. Ozera glared.

“You would have been dully informed of anything that you needed to know.” Jack said innocently. In other words, 'No'.

Mr. Ozera opened his mouth to chastise Jack, not for the first time, when he seemed to remember he wasn't alone. He cleared his throat, straightened his tie, and turned back to Brooklyn and Warren. His face composed itself quickly until it settled on a calm expression as if the conversation had never happened but Brooklyn knew he wouldn't let it drop that easily. He would chew Jack out later when he had more privacy.

Crispin, behind the two of them, licked his finger and drew an imaginary line on an imaginary score board for Brooklyn and Warren's benefit.

“Why are you two still here?” Mr. Ozera asked them. “The doctor said he discharged you already. And Brooklyn, you really shouldn't be up there. Warren needs his rest.”

“We were waiting for Jack.” Brooklyn smiled as she answered the question. She tried to stand up but Warren's grip on her tightened just slightly in a silent request for her not to move. She ran her hand down in arm, a caress as much as an apology and he let her go, albeit reluctantly.

“Which reminds me, you needn't have bothered flying up here, Jack.” Mr. Ozera turned to him.

“I wasn't about to let my people face things like this alone.” Jack said.

“They will be returning to the hotel with me.” Mr. Ozera reminded him. “I assure you, they will be perfectly safe. There's no need for you to fuss like a momma hen.”

Jack overlooked the insult simply because he did not consider it one, “I still have things to discuss with them, if you don't mind.”

“They can be discussed back at the hotel room.” Mr. Ozera tried to say but Jack cut him off.

“We can discuss it here. I have to get back to Paradise Falls rather quickly. You're free to go back if you're tired though.”

“And have you cut me out of the loop again?” Mr. Ozera glared. “I think not, Jack.”

Jack shrugged just as Mr. Ozera's phone rang.

“One moment.” he said as he pulled it out and pressed 'talk'. “Rachel, dear, I didn't expect to hear from you. Is something wrong?” His voice faded as he walked around the curtain and to an area where he wouldn't bother anyone with his conversation.

“Let's talk quickly, then.” Jack said, taking advantage of Mr. Ozera's absence. “Brooklyn, you told Crispin you thought you had found something at Rachel's office?”

“In her records room, actually.” Brooklyn said, launching immediately into the empty drawer and the conclusions Warren had drawn about it as well as Mrs. Cohen's reaction at seeing them in it. As she spoke, she started climbing back onto the examination table with Warren. Victor might have cared about her being up there, but Jack didn't. He didn't remark on her movement or even look surprised.

Jack made a noncommittal sound when she finished. He seemed to agree with Warren that the lack of evidence was, in itself, evidence. However, he said, “So, again, we have something that might be nothing. Good job, both of you. We got Eisenhower's financials from Ilia this morning. Crispin is going to start going through them tonight.”

“It will take me awhile.” he signed apologetically. “The man is everywhere with his records. I'll get what I find to you as quickly as I can.”

“When you two get to New York, he's going to invite you to a party.” Jack said. “He always does. He'll want to show off. Accept the invitation. He always gets loose in the tongue when he's drunk or high. And you can use it as a chance to go through his house.”

“Okay.” Brooklyn nodded.

“I really do need to be getting back to Paradise Falls.” Jack looked towards the exit. “I'm glad you two aren't hurt but you need to stay on your toes.”

“Jack.” Warren spoke up, stopping their boss before he could leave. “One last thing.”

“Yes?” Jack said.

“Brook and I are going to have a baby.” Warren told him quietly.

Jack's eyebrow rose and he looked Brooklyn over again, assessing any damage that might affect a growing baby. “I suppose congratulations are in order.”

“We're not pregnant yet.” Brooklyn stroked her lover's arm.

“But we will be.” Warren promised both her and Jack. “I thought you should know. In case.”

Jack nodded once, appreciating the warning. “After you're done with Eisenhower, I can arrange to have you lay low somewhere safe until this whole Intrebari nonsense is over.”

“Thanks, Jack.” Warren said.

Jack nodded again and turned to leave.

Crispin, instead of following his boss, went over to Brooklyn and took her hands into his. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek then smiled at her. He didn't say a word, but then he didn't need to. His eyes spoke volumes and Brooklyn smiled back. “Thanks, Crispin.”

He nodded, gave Warren's shoulder a friendly pat, then left after Jack.

XXXXXXXXXX

“Are you sure you're feeling better?” Brooklyn asked Warren as they waited on their room service.

“I feel fine.” he promised from his seat on the couch. She was in her room talking to him through the open door as she dug through her suitcase. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine.” Brooklyn assured him with a smile. The bruises on her wrist had yet to fade but she kept them covered with a long sleeve shirt. She knew Warren didn't like to see them. Last night, before they fell asleep, he kissed them gently as if apologizing for not being able to prevent them. Brooklyn had a feeling he would be doing that until they faded.

Warren had needed to rest. As the day they had spent in the hotel room wore on, the lump on his head had been slowly but surely receding. He assured her that he wasn't nauseous, he had no headache, he wasn't dizzy; the likelihood that the strike had caused a concussion was, therefor, practically nonexistent. Brooklyn was sore but no worse for the wear. Warren was telling her that he was going to start teaching her some basic self defense so she could protect herself.

Through the day he had looked slightly...off. He wasn't smiling or holding her or teasing her gently. He kept looking away from her, being thoughtful and withdrawn. It was actually worrying Brooklyn a bit. She could practically hear the thought forming in his head. And, sure enough, just around sunset, he looked at her and opened his mouth.

“Listen, Brooklyn,” Warren started looking a bit nervous “I was thinking, maybe you should-”

“No.” she said simply without inflection as she considered reading one of the books she had brought with her. Warren wasn't being the most stimulating company at the moment but curling up next to him with a book until the brooding phase passed seemed appealing.

“You didn't let me finish.” he told her as she pulled a book out of her suitcase and considered reading it.

“You were going to suggest I go back home, right?” she asked, looking over at him. She knew by the look on his face that she wasright. “No. I won't.”

“You aren't safe here.” he pointed out.

“Neither are you.” she stood up and returned to the couch where he was sitting. Automatically, he opened his arms to her and she sat on his lap, placing the book on the coffee table. “You got hurt worse than me.”

“You would be safer at home.” he tried to say but Brooklyn was already shaking her head.