a little dead? 9-Chapter FINALE (348 hits)
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Submitted by Allyson (View user info) at 2006-09-19 22:45:51 EDT
a little dead? 1 http://www.ubersite.com/m/92917
a little dead? 2 http://www.ubersite.com/m/92962
a little dead? 3 http://www.ubersite.com/m/92978
a little dead? 4 http://www.ubersite.com/m/93031
a little dead? 5 http://www.ubersite.com/m/93082
a little dead? 6 http://www.ubersite.com/m/93133
a little dead? 7 http://www.ubersite.com/m/93166
a little dead? 8 http://www.ubersite.com/m/93209
(Yeah, it's long. And not really any action. But it sets up the next series quite well. I did finish it by the way.)
"Someone coming."
Danny hears the approaching engine just as Jimmy speaks, unsurprisingly. Both men had been on the same wavelength for years, senses trained in unison. Jimmy stands up from his bonnet and waits with Danny, watching the dirt track under the trees expectantly. After a few seconds the sight of a battered-looking Range Rover weaving up it towards the house joins the roar of an engine. It jerks to a halt next to the sedan and Danny smiles as the driver gets out.
"Punctual as always, Benny."
"Glad you fuckin' approve."
The two Rangers shake hands and Danny nods behind him at the house, frowning a little.
"So this is there place, huh? Your 'arsenal'?"
Benny gives that Cheshire grin again, eyes glittering with anticipation. He was damn proud of his little collection in there, painstakingly built up over the last two years. It had cost him pretty penny, for sure, but it had helped him in some of his freelance work and, at the end of the day, Benny just plain loved guns.
"Ah, you'll see my friend..."
He walks past Danny, exchanging pleasantries with Jimmy. He leads both men into the hut and unlocks the door. Danny can already see that the old oak door has a brand-new lock. Benny opens the door just a little and pulls out a pair of pliers from his pocket. He bends down and briefly looks for something just inside the doorframe, something infinitesimally thin and yet shiny
He smiles as he sees the wire, and cuts it, opening the door and looking at Danny.
"Little home security, Danny," he says as he walks into the sparsely furnished cabin. He nods to the wire leading from the doorknob, across the floor and to the fireplace. "I don't cut that every time, this place vaporizes."
Danny nods slowly, impressed. "Very thorough."
Benny kneels down at the fireplace and grips the side of it. It's an old metal stove with a large grill, more than enough for warming some hunting party or weekend commuter. But Benny pulls it straight out from its niche, revealing a metal plate on the floor, big enough for a man. With handle on it.
"Welcome to my parlor," Benny opens the grate and grins that fucking grin again, starting to climb down the ladder beyond it. "Said the Ranger to the Marine..."
"Jesus fucking Christ, Benny! You planning your own fucking apocalypse or what?!"
As Danny looks around the large basement under the shack, he can see why Benny referred to his cache as an armory. It's incredible, and it warms his fucking heart.
"Hey, you always said I was a gun nut." Benny talks as he leads his two comrades around, to the gun covering one side of the room. It's filled with assault rifles, shotguns and even a couple of sniper rifles. Arrayed lovingly on the table below it are a myriad of silencers and scopes, probably enough for every gun in here. "Be a shame to let ya down!"
Jimmy snorts in mild shock as he steps over to the pistol rack, where a handful of Glocks sit, perfectly clean. In fact, the room itself is immaculate, with very little dust or grime. Then again, judging by the walls there wasn't even a chance of a rat getting into this place.
"There's being a gun nut, Benny..." Jimmy drops the Glock and his eyes widen as he sees the M60 hanging on the far wall. Below it is the beast that is the Barrett Light Fifty, and he shakes his head, bemused smile on his face. "And there's just being a fucking nut."
"Yeah, well." Benny looks over to him, replaces one of his MP5SD's with the rest of them on another wall. There was another one there along with a couple of standard MP5's. All are just as pristine as everything else in the room. "Never hurts to be prepared."
Too fuckin' true.
Danny listens silently as he peruses the room, steadily getting more excited. He walks past the Kevlar vest lying on top of one another, a bunch of impossibly sharp CQB blades in a neat row next to then. Now Danny's walking in a circle around the table in the centre of the square basement, covered with boxes of ammunition. Nine millimeter, 5.56mm, big ol' .50 rounds for the Barrett, God knows how many shotgun shells... and then there's the plastic explosives.
Five bricks of what looks like Semtex to his trained eyes lie in the middle of the ammunition pile, the wire from the door finally ending on the detonator fixed onto it. Now Danny understands what Benny meant about the house "vaporizing".
Five kilos... Jesus, make a crater as big as an apartment block.
"Fuck, Benny... where you get all this shit?"
Santos just shrugs, as if the questions elemental. He walks over to the massive bomb, knowing that Danny will want to the PE as well as everything else, and removes the detonator.
"Here and there. Lotta gunrunners out of Easter Europe, some old friends of ours from the Rangers... huh, even a couple of survivalists nuts." He shoots a mocking grin at Jimmy. "Like me, eh?"
Jimmy grins and invites him to sit and spin. Santos just laughs.
"What about this place?" He takes one look around the basement, in a different world from the rickety shack above them. The ceiling is concrete, ditto the walls, and all the tables and surfaces look like they're regularly cleaned. "Must have taken you months to get it ready."
Benny laughs again, opening a drawer to let Danny inspect the dozen or so detonators inside. Most of time-delay, the simplest to make, especially for a Ranger, but there are a few remote ones there as well. Danny knows they aren't too hard to make: the RC for a toy car is almost all you need, along with some basic electronic knowledge.
Shit, can't thank the Rangers enough...
"Hell, you'd be surprised what a good solid fortnight of DIY can do, Danny."
Danny snorts in wonder and walks over to the gun rack, picking up one of the M4's. They're his favored assault rifle: light, powerful, accurate and reliable, and Benny has four. He runs his eyes over it and smiles as he sees the serial numbers been burnt off, acid by the look of it. He holds it up to Jimmy, busy stripping a Mossberg 500, his favored piece.
"Thorough, huh?"
"Shit, ain't like he bought these from fuckin' Wal-Mart."
All three men chuckle and Benny picks up one of the M40A1 rifles, the Marine Corps favored snipers rifle. But Benny learnt to make this gun an extension of his own body in the Rangers, learnt to take into account any windage, any cover or body amour, all for that one, beautiful, perfect shot.
"Gonna do a job... you do it right..."
"I don't get it, Benny." Jimmy pipes up as he effortlessly puts the Mossberg back together, hands flying over the metal pieces. "You working in Wal-mart but you got all this shit up here? Why didn't you sell at least some of it?"
Danny looks over in curiosity at a suddenly sheepish looking Santos, who gives a tight, almost embarrassed smile.
"Shit... didn't have the fuckin' heart."
"Je-sus...!"
The other two men exclaim it simultaneously and then crack up, Santos shooing them away with his hands as he pus the rifle down.
"Yeah, yeah, well excuse the shit outta me for being fuckin' sentimental."
Danny chuckles, enjoying the old camaraderie again, and replaces the M4, heading for the ladder. His comrades look up at him as he starts climbing. He pauses, face firm and set, Sergeant Thorn once more. But his men look up at him with expectant respect, not subservience, the way he wants it.
"Grade A, Benny. Start stripping everything and get it all ready to move." Benny and Jimmy don't bother arguing, they know they have to get moving soon. But Jimmy pauses briefly.
"Where you going?"
Danny grimaces a little and holds up his cell phone, a new, clean one.
"I need to straighten out some vacation time..."
"You better have a goddamn fucking good reason for dragging me the fuck up here, Danny!!"
Mike's not in a good mood, but Danny had expected that. He and his friends are steadily packing their munitions into the two cars, all wrapped up in hold alls, inconspicuous and secure. It's a day after they first arrived, after Danny called Mike and told him he needed to see him now.
"What the fuck's going on?!" Mike had raged over the phone. He'd had a copy of the New York Times in front of him and the top story with a bullet was GANGLAND MASSACRE IN QUEENS. That, he did not want. "You're fuckin' job's on every fuckin' paper on the East Coast!"
Danny had remained cool and calm the whole time, just as he is now as Mike tramps through the mud towards the shack, leaving his rented BMW behind. "Come up here, Mike, we got serious shit to talk about. That's all I can say now."
"What the f -"
Danny had cut him of by giving him the directions to the cabin, past the Catskills and up this isolated dirt track to this picturesque, apparently innocent little domicile. Frankly, Mike could care less about the fucking view.
"I think it's a good reason."
Danny's unnaturally cool demeanor only riles Mike even more, making him tighten his grip on the suitcase in his hands. Furious as he was, Danny had executed the contract. Jimmy and Benny work silently behind them both, still ferrying bags from basement to trunk, letting their leader handle this.
"Well then start fucking talking! The bosses are fucking livid, Danny."
Danny rolls his eyes with barely-disguised scorn, unimpressed. The bosses were always pissed off about something, but then when you were up at their level, he guessed there's more to get pissed about. But he still doesn't exactly appreciate it when he goes through Hell to get their job done, and all he gets is shit.
Well, not all. Got the cash there... and got that name...
"Jesus Mike, those assholes are never happy. If they were they woulda fuckin' retired by now."
"Seventeen dead, Danny! Seventeen!" He takes a step forward closer to Danny, face contorted in anger. "Fuck, terrorists don't kill as many as -"
Mike's about to launch into a fresh outburst when he finally notices Danny's face, in detail. Through his rage and irritation he hadn't properly looked at it up close. He hadn't seen the bruises and cuts and swelling, gone down but still leaving some ugly marks. It's clear to him Danny now that went through a cunt of a beating.
"Fuck... what happened to you, man?"
Danny smiles knowingly, Jimmy's words echoing in his ears from Mike's mouth. He stands to one side and gestures to the open door, his two comrades almost finished.
"We should talk inside."
Mike gives him a challenging look, but then does as he says. By the look of Danny, he had to endure a lot to get this job done, and he at least deserved some time. He could tell as well by Danny's cold, ultra-disciplined composure that whatever he'd planned, he wasn't about to change his mind, either.
So he clumps though the mud, grimacing as his $120-a-pop Bostonians are patently ruined by the thick, brown mud. He shakes his head and mutters under his breath as he steps inside.
"This better be fuckin' worth it..."
"Fuckin' Hell..."
If he's honest, Danny's getting a bit tired of telling his story. It isn't like it's a funny little anecdote; it's just the reason why he's now about to embark on what amount to a killing spree. But Mike more than anyone needs to know all the details.
If he's to let me go, he has to know why...
"So... what do you want? To go freelance?"
Danny nods stiffly, Mike seated in the chair across from him. Jimmy and Benny lean against the wall to one side, content to let their new boss negotiate. There was no way Danny was about to insult these two by asking them to leave, even with Mike. Either way, they have no doubt he'll get what he wants; Danny doesn't change his mind once he's made it and this... this is a whole new level of serious.
"Yeah. Probably take a few months, and I'll go off the radar. You won't know where I and either will anyone else who works in the outfit." Danny shrugs, mind made up. "I wanted you to know first, and to know the job is done."
Danny leans forward, eyes locking with Mike's over the wooden coffee table. There's cold steel in them now, a blank determination that not even a smooth operator like Mike can work his way around. His voice is steady and emotionless, like a machine.
"This is my family, Mike. They were my whole life, you know that." Mike can suddenly feel the emotion growing in that dead voice now, somehow replacing it. "For months I thought it was just some random fuckin' accident, with no-one to blame or take it out on. But now I know. Now I have a name, now I have the story."
Danny stands, taking firm control of this meeting. Mike stays in his seat, impassive but silently impressed at the Iceman's resolve.
"And I am going to kill everyone responsible. Whether the bosses want it or not."
Mike stays silent for a few seconds, taking this all in. He knows damn well that nothing he or the bosses can say will change Danny's mind, but he still needs to give him fair warning.
"The outfit won't support you, Danny." His voice is low and warning now, deadly serious. "They won't risk war with any other crew they don't need to. And... and if you do ruffle any feathers that they are in business with..."
His eyes flicker into Danny's, cold but tinged with regret, a sort of inevitability. Danny knows exactly why he's giving him that look.
"It'll get bad."
Danny nods slowly, expecting this. The outfit wasn't a fucking humanitarian operation; they were about money and reputation, and if Danny fucked with either one, valued killer or not, they'd whack him out with hesitation. But he's past caring right now.
"Thanks for the warning." Danny gives a tight smiles and sits down, reaching for a brown bag sitting under the table. He hands it over to Mike as he speaks. "One more thing; I need to ask you a favor."
Mike's eyes widen and he actually snorts in amazement. The Iceman wipes out a whole crew over two days, disappears off the planet and now tells him he's about to declare war on California, leaving his outfit and him behind with only this message, and now he wants a fucking favor.
"You taking the fuckin' piss?"
Danny can't help but smile, waving the envelope. Mike snatches it, shaking his head, but stops once he sees the bundles of cash inside. He looks up at Danny.
"There's fifty grand there, it's for you. Personally." Danny leans forward again, ore urgency in his voice. This is what he really needs from Mike.
"These guys with me, they're the best on the market. 'Tween the three of us, there isn't much I think we won't handle, but we still need good Intel. What I want from you Mike, is access to the outfit's intelligence network while I'm doing this." He ignores the shocked look on Mike's face and continues.
"I want to run every name or lead I get through you, and you can give me the details. I haven't got enough contacts myself out there but you guys..." he spreads his hands expansively, "shit, you guys are everywhere. The Intel you give me on the contracts is better than the fucking Army's."
Mike shakes his head slowly, not going for this.
"The bosses find out I'm helping you in this, I'm a fucking dead man."
"Hence the fifty grand."
"That's what my fuckin' life's worth?"
"You tell me."
The two men pause from the verbal swordplay, gathering their thoughts. Mike has to admit, he's tempted. Fifty grand is fifty grand after all, but he was right first time. The bosses will just allow Danny to go freelance for this rampage, but as for helping him... no way. And if they did find out that Mike was feeding him Intel from their sources, attaching their name to whatever heinous shit he was pulling.
I think "making an example" is the right word.
"I can't, Danny. I can't risk it."
"Yeah, you can. You just won't."
Mike looks up at him with anger in his eyes. He's been cool with Danny so far, going long with this insanity, but he will not be talked down to by this fucking guy.
"Fuck you think you are man, telling -"
"What if it was Mary, Mike?" Danny's accusing voice cuts him off right there, voice hard and ruthless now. "What if she got burned alive and you had a shot to get the cunts who did it? Wouldn't you use everything you had, wouldn't you call in every favor, every contact, every fucking lead you had?"
He leans closer and Mike can see the cold, rising hate behind Danny's eyes, that endless fire that can't yet be quenched by anything.
"Wouldn't you?"
Mike looks to the floor, knowing damn well Danny's right, again. If his beloved Mary had gone out like that, he would have walked through Hell to get the bastards who did it, turn his back on the outfit he'd been a member of for almost twenty years.
He deserves this... anyone does... just gotta be smart about it.
"OK..." he finally relents and Danny relaxes, but Mike puts a warning finger up. "But this has to be totally fucking clean! You don't call any numbers I have now, you just give me yours. I'll give you some clean ones not even the bosses know about, and we'll do it that way. Deal?"
Danny nods, not about to ask anymore. He knows Mike will be risking a Hell of a lot by helping him out in this, and the Intel has to be on his terms. He stands up and extends his hand, their negotiations now over. Mike stands and plants the attaché case on the table, gripping the Iceman's hand.
He can't help but think it'll be the last time he ever does.
"Money's all there, quarter-million." Danny smiles, knowing he doesn't need to check it. The two men lock eyes briefly and Mike pockets the fifty grand, clasping Danny's shoulder. His eyes now look into Danny's, genuine and firm. As a man who also loved his woman more than his own life, he can take a guess at what Danny's feeling now.
"Make 'em fuckin' suffer, Iceman."
Danny smiles sadistically and tightens his grip, anticipating all the great, terrible things he'll do to anyone behind the fire, and anyone who gets in his way.
"They'll beg, Mike. They'll fuckin' beg..."
The winds just kicking up as Danny watches the BMW disappear down the dirt track. The attaché case is in the trunk of Jimmy's sedan, along with the remaining cash from the Diaz deal and a half-dozen or so heavy-duty firearms. Santos and Timmy are just finishing off, still packing odds and ends into the Range Rover's spacious back.
All coming together now... almost ready...
Danny turns and looks out over the vast canopy below him. It's an endless sea of green and brown, dotted with peaks that seem to stretch way into the sky. His calm eyes drift over them, seeing flashes of movement from birds of whatever, or just billions of leaves swaying as one on the breeze.
Beautiful... she would have liked it...
"Danny?"
He turns to see Jimmy standing ready. Santos has just locked up the house, not bothering with his booby trap now. Everything, from the knives and pistols to the Semtex and the Barrett, are packed into the two cars, ready for war. Jimmy nods to them.
"Ready to go, man."
Danny nods firmly and Timmy walks back to his car, letting Danny have one last look at the Appalachians. His mind is still ticking over the details: they're not done in New York yet by a long shot, some miscellaneous but still vital items they need to find. Danny knows it won't be too hard, especially with the mountain of cash they've got for supplies.
New ID's, transport... then we're gone.
Miami Beach, eighteen months ago
"Hey, where you two going?"
"Nuna' your business!"
"WHOOOO!"
The high-pitched accusing whine from the students makes Danny smile involuntarily, even with his back the circle round the fire. He and Rosalia got about fifteen feet before someone noticed, calling out to the lovebirds.
Fuckin' kids...
"Hey, guys!" Sarah, the Connecticut girl who's Rosalia's best friend at the university, gives a wide grin and makes some obscene gesture with her tongue and two fingers. "French kiss!"
At that Danny turns round, wide grin on his face. "If she's lucky!"
A round of giggling from the group quickly diverts attention and Danny squeezes Rosa's hand quickly, smiling down at her.
"Let's go before they recover from that one!"
"Good idea!"
The turn from the group and walk as quickly as the thick sand will allow, letting the night swallow them up. By the time the stoners and students have looked back over, they're gone. But it isn't pitch black, of course, not Miami Beach. A million glaring beacons illuminate the beach from end to end, from neon signs to simple light bulbs. However, Rosalia had taken Danny down here to see her friends, in the more secluded spot they knew of.
Besides, what the Hell is "well-lit" at three in the morning?
"You OK with them?"
The question foxes Danny for a second but then he just shrugs it off. He's noticed Rosa being a little nervous about introducing Danny to her friends, not because of who was (well, not really). She just knew Danny wasn't really a "student" person, and it would be a whole different world.
Always thinking of you. Never an agenda with Rosalia....
"Yeah, good guys." He chuckles in brief memory. "Jerry's a mad bastard!"
Rosalia laughs and squeezes Danny's hand, stopping at the shore. Danny stops as well and looks over the Caribbean, and can see why.
"Wow..."
The moon's out tonight, and now, away from the infecting glare of human light, it's making the water dance and shimmer and morph like liquid silver. For what seems like miles this ocean of color shifts in front of them, all lit by that perfect, impossibly full moon.
"Yeah. In know."
Rosalia sits down and Danny follows, both of them barely a few feet from the gently crashing surf. They sit there for a minute, just appreciating the sight, but there's something gnawing at Danny. He's been unable to shake it for the last six months, as long as they've been going out. Usually he wouldn't have given it a second thought but now, with her...
Rosalia always made ya think twice, didn't she?
"Why do you love me?"
For a second Rosa just looks at him blankly, unable to believe the question before breaking out laughing. Danny rolls his eyes and looks down the beach.
Oh, real smooth man, not even a little fuckin' pussy!
"Jesus, Danny..."
"No, I'm serious," uncomfortable as he is, Danny presses his question home and shifting round to squat right in front of her. He wants this answer, he needs this question answered. He has to know why. "Why do you still hang around with me? I mean, I ain't exactly Brad Pitt -"
"You ain't that bad."
"And it ain't like I've got a... high-flying job."
Rosa looks down a that, smile shrinking on her face. Yeah, that was another thing that just made Danny love her even more. She never asked questions about what Danny did, save at the beginning, obviously. He'd shifted in his seat and made a quick, and very bad, lie.
She just smiled and said she understood. Nothing more than that...
"I don't mind that, baby."
"Yeah, and that's what I don't get!" To both their amazement Danny's voice rises as they sit, almost to a crescendo. His mind is still in pieces about how this beautiful, smart and good woman would want to hitch her wagon to... whatever the fuck Danny is. He calms down a little and takes a breath, voice lower but just as perplexed.
"I mean... what, what is it you see in me that's worth putting up with all my shit for? Seriously, I really want to fucking know. My whole life I've been either a bastard or an asshole, and I never apologized for it to anyone. Shit, when you met me I wasn't much worse and now -"
"Hey!" Rosa's soft voice cuts him short and she takes his head in her hands, looking at him with those big round brown eyes. "You are who you are. That's what I fell in love with."
"But why?!"
Rosa lets him go and cocks her head, as if studying him like an insect with a strange look on her face. Danny resists the strong urge to laugh, just waiting.
"Initially? Felt sorry for you, I guess. Guy all alone in a bar, staring into his booze, not a friend in the world by the look of it. Thought I'd -"
"Shit!" Danny pulls away a little, now angry. "That's nothing but pity, Rosa, not love."
"You wanna wait 'til I finish?"
There's iron in her voice now and he looks down at her, seeing t in her eyes. They lock eyes for a few seconds and neither one budges an inch, both wanting to get their feelings across. But eventually it's Danny who relents, the look on Rosa's face telling him she ain't doing it any time soon. So he just sighs heavily and shakes his head.
"OK, OK..."
"Yeah, you're right, it was pity, but that's just the obvious."
Danny looks at her with a frown at her, but she just puts a warning finger up: Not done yet!
"You want to know, Danny? You want the reason why?"
"Yeah."
She takes a breath and Danny can see a great well of emotion rising in her, something private and unique that he was being privileged enough to see. She looks down briefly, licks her lips, and continues.
"Because I saw someone just like me. I know that sounds crazy but after... after what happened with my family, I just felt so alone in the world. I couldn't make friends, I didn't have anyone. The friends I did have I didn't really... well, I just couldn't commit totally to them." She shakes her head. "Too afraid."
Rosa looks into Danny's completely dumbstruck face and smiles, looking at Danny in a way that only one other person ever has.
"So when I saw this guy at a bar, looking as lonely and... and lost as me. Huh... I thought maybe he'd like a little company, God knows I did after what happened. And I found something else out, as well."
She takes him by the hand and it's like someone's put ten thousand volts through him.
"I opened up. This quiet, private man helped me live my life again, not live in fear for... well, you know. And you know the other amazing thing? He opened up, as well. He never had a proper life, not really, not like everyone else. All he ever had was pain and violence and anger..." she smiles sheepishly, a little hint of smugness in it.
"Then he met me, and he changed. And I don't care what he does or where he comes from; I care about what he means to me, and that isn't ever going to change."
Never forget you, Rosa. Never stop loving you, not ever.
She stops talking and Danny stares. He can't do much else, jaw slack and eyes wide, doubting that he's actually heard all that. So Rosa just giggles and gives him a quick hug, but suddenly finds her self wrapped up in his broad arms, almost crushing her to him.
"Jesus, Dan -"
"Shut up." He snaps but she can feel the emotion choking his voice, the disbelieving joy, and the insane desire to just hold her now, like it's the only thing that matters. "Just... shut up..."
So she does, and the two people sit there by the beach, unwatched by everyone save the faceless moon and the shining sea, lost in each other if only for that one, perfect night.
Danny's eyes flicker open in the back of the van, the first thing he sees being the M4 lying next to him. The black metal assault rifle has a silencer screwed onto the end, night sight on top and is with Danny down on the floor in the van, in with the bags and boxes of weapons. But Danny doesn't give them a thought.
No nightmare... No bad ending... why?
He shakes his head clear and sits up, rubbing his eyes. That's all he needs to get back into consciousness, and he sits there for a second. Jimmy and Santos are in the front of the cab, watching the road and shooting the shit with the radio playing lowly. The van had been picked up from long-term parking at JFK, specifically from a guy who wouldn't be coming back for a while. Danny had decided on the van rather than plane or train, so they could take all the weapons. It was, of course, also more anonymous.
Last thing they'll hear, we're in New York. Time I do what I do in LA, they'll only just realize.
He still isn't quite sure who "they" is, but it's everyone who might want to kill him as far as Danny's concerned. As long as they stay off the radar, using clean cars and the ID's Danny had picked up from an old outfit contact in Harlem, they could stay as ghosts. But more importantly, they had the cash to give them that autonomy.
Quarter-mil from the contract, just over half-a-mil from Diaz... more than enough.
"Jimmy?"
Wade looks round as Danny clambers to the cab. Out the window he can see tall, green trees whipping by and what few cars there are on the road don't have New York plates.
"Where are we?"
"Just hit West Virginia." Jimmy takes a swig of the coffee they'd brought an hour ago and passes it to Danny, who takes a steaming gulp. Ah, now he's awake! "Making pretty good time. We should hit California in two, three days."
Danny nods, taking in the Intel like any good soldier.
"Good. Get some sleep, Jimmy."
Wade doesn't bother to argue, having been awake for quite a while. Of course they're time in the Rangers meant that they could stay conscious for sometimes days at a time, but it isn't exactly something they want to push. Fuck knows what could happen to them, especially while driving!
"OK, Sarge."
"Cut that shit, Jimmy." Both men exchange glances as Jimmy clambers into the back, Danny's eyes firm but with a little smile. "I'm Danny now."
Jimmy chuckles and moves to the back seat, tucking himself under the blanket there. Danny gets into the cab and lights a couple of cigarettes, passing on to Santos.
"Thanks."
Danny nods and opens the window, staring out as he takes a drag, arm half out the door. He watches the trees and rich green countryside of Virginia whip slowly by as the van rumbles down the highway, smoke trailing from his nose. He's still thinking about that dream, the first good one he's had about Rosa since everything had happened. And why it hadn't ended badly.
Because now you've got a chance to end it. Now you can get... justice?
Denny snorts at the thought and gets a sideways look from Santos. The Irish-Mexican shrugs it off after a second, letting his boss have his cigarette. But he looks again as he sees Danny's eyes in the rearview, and almost imperceptibly shakes his head in wonder.
In all the years he's known Danny, he's never seen him so steadfastly resolute as he is now.
And it's with that mood in the van that the three ex-Rangers drive steadily, relentlessly towards California, about to go back to war.
User Reviews
Submitted by nyxmar (user info) at 2006-09-20 21:23:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Do it now, dont make me beg, unless you like it.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-09-20 15:28:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Allyson (user info) at 2006-09-20 11:19:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
ok... next chapter. Do you want mt to wait a few days to put it up, or start putting it up this evening???
i gotta go to class, and i'm out at seven my time. I can put it on then... just let me konw if you want me to put it up now, or later.
Submitted by rillins (user info) at 2006-09-20 11:11:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I was so depressed that this was the ending. I've shown several people this story and all love and adore it! The only problems I see are discontinuities in the story and you made spell check explode.
Submitted by St_Jimmy (user info) at 2006-09-20 10:44:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Eagerly anticipating the next block of the series.
Submitted by Allyson (user info) at 2006-09-20 09:16:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
thanks everybody.
Submitted by bcm (user info) at 2006-09-20 05:57:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Again its long and again there's the odd typo but again its still a great read.
I look forward to the next chapter...
Submitted by JoeyG (user info) at 2006-09-20 05:39:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
An enjoyable series.
Submitted by paint_it_black (user info) at 2006-09-20 01:52:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Can you post the whole lot in one go (for me) and then repost bit by bit (for the fuckers who have no attention span)
?
Submitted by Allyson (user info) at 2006-09-20 00:09:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
finale for THIS block of stories.
The next block is written, i just want to edit it some more before i put it up. I finished it today, surprising myself. I'm sure there's a shit ton of errors, and i just want to go through it before i post it up.
Submitted by paint_it_black (user info) at 2006-09-19 23:04:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
why is this the finale
Submitted by paint_it_black (user info) at 2006-09-19 22:48:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
haven;t read it yet but I know I will plus 2 it regardless