Message-ID: <6cd3114c.358ac531@aol.com>
Date: Fri, 19 Jun 1998 16:08:15 EDT
From: Maryilee@aol.com
Subject: "And Then There Were Two" Part 12

Chapter 12


Gary wordlessly looked from the paper to Sam and back again. He
carefully folded the paper, and tucked into his jacket.  His mind was
reeling.  It was one thing to risk your life trying to save someone.
He had done that a few times. But it was a risk he took, knowing that
if he didn't help, the person was sure to die.

This was entirely different. Gary walked up to his apartment, leaving
Sam alone at the bar.  He needed time to think. It was un-nerving to
know that there was someone out there, purposely looking to kill him.
He glanced at his bedside clock, and swallowed, it was already nine
o'clock P.M. There were only a few more hours to go until-. Gary took a
deep breath and sank onto the sofa.

He took a survey of his apartment.  He supposed to some people, it
might not seem like much to show for thirty-odd years of life.  Some
furniture, a bike, a few models of planes and ships, but to Gary, it
was everything, and he wasn't about to go down without a fight.

A knock at the door made him jump, but he sighed in relief when he
realized that it was only Sam.

"Come in.  Door's open."

Sam came in a shut the door behind him. "Al and I came up with some
ideas." Sam sat on the edge of the coffee table.  "We think we know who
is responsible for wanting you dead."

Gary sat up. "Who?"

"Well, a year from now, a landlord by the name of Franklin is arrested
and charged with murder for ordering hits on several Chicago community
activists.  The police tried to connect him to other unsolved murders
of community activist, but were unable to.  It seems that the suspected
hit men were local gang members. Who," Sam continued with a sigh, "were
unfortunately gunned down in a drive-by shooting shortly before
Franklin's arrest."

Gary cocked his head, listening intently. "Okay, now we know who and
why, but how does that help us stop them?"

"Well, it doesn't really, but at least we know that it wasn't a random
act, so that means we can prepare for them." Sam pinched the bridge of
his nose in concentration.  "First, we call the police, and tell them
about-" Sam broke off as Gary began shaking his head negatively.
"What?"

Gary rubbed the back of his neck, "Um, the police and I-" Gary shrugged
with a sheepish little smile, "Let's just say that they pretty much
think I'm a lunatic. "

Sam appeared confused at Gary's statement, then his mouth dropped open
as understanding dawned.  He gave a slight chuckle, "I've been there.
I always hate trying to explain how I know what I know."

Gary grinned, "Yeah, I *hate* when people roll their eyes at me.  I
think of it as the 'let's call the men in the white jackets' look."

Sam and Gary exchanged smiles.  An even stronger bond forming at the
recognition of similar events in both their lives.

Gary took a deep breath, getting back to the present.  "Okay, how else
can we prepare?"

Sam stood and started pacing. "We know approximately when the shooting
occurs. Why don't we set a trap for them?"

Gary thought for a moment.  "What?  You mean like catch them breaking
into McGinty's?"

Sam nodded.  "Yes, we have to catch them so that they can be arrested.
Otherwise, they will just keep trying to target you."

"Yeah, that's why all the scenarios you ran through Ziggy didn't work,
right? 'Cause we didn't catch them." Gary said, slight hope creeping
into his voice.  "So, what do we do to catch them?"

Sam stopped his pacing momentarily, "Well, that's the hard part.  I
don't suppose you own a gun?"

Gary shook his head; "I've never needed one...until now, that is."

Sam nodded. "Well, Ziggy predicts that they will most likely enter
through the back kitchen door."

Gary nodded.  It made sense.  The kitchen closed at nine, so all the
help would be gone by then.  "So, what do we do?  Wait for them in
there?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

***********************



Gary leaned against the wall next to the back door.  He had had the
bartender close the bar early tonight, with the made-up excuse that the
plumbing was backed up.  Some of the patrons had grumbled slightly, but
without a bathroom available; there wasn't much point to drinking. Gary
promised to make it up to them the next time they were at McGinty's,
with a free drink.

Marissa was locked in the office, with instructions to call the police
as soon as she heard the bad guys broke in. Gary had wanted her to go
home, where she would have been safe, but as usual, she was stubborn
and had insisted on remaining.

Now, the lights were all turned off, and the only thing Gary could hear
was his own breathing, and the ticking of his watch; both of which
sounded deafening in the silence.  He and Sam had scoured the bar for
weapons, coming up with Gary's trusty hockey stick, several knives, a
nice heavy bottle of whiskey and of all things, a rolling pin.

Gary clutched his hockey stick, nervously wiping a sweaty hand on his
jeans.  He eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness, and he could
make out the shadow of Sam's form on the other side of the doors.
Their plan called for them to allow the gunman to enter and then Gary
would use the hockey stick to trip him, while Sam brought the rolling
pin down on gunman's head.

It wasn't much of a plan, Gary admitted to himself, but it was better
than just waiting around to be shot.  Just in case the plan didn't
work, they each had a knife tucked into their waistbands, though Gary
wasn't sure he could ever plunge a knife into another human being.  He
hoped he wouldn't have to find out if he could.

Gary's thoughts froze as he heard the faint scuffle of footsteps on the
other side of the door.  His eyes riveted on the door handle.  He tried
to control his ragged breathing, sure that it could be heard through
the door.  He gripped the hockey stick more tightly.

For the next several minutes, Gary and Sam listened to the sound of the
lock being jimmied.  Gary always thought the door had had a pretty
decent lock, but he made a mental note, that if he survived this, he
was going to put up armor plated doors, with the biggest deadbolts
money could buy.

Gary almost jumped out of his skin when the lock suddenly gave way with
a loud pop.  Gary saw the door open slowly.  His heart gave a flip-flop
when he saw not one, but two people enter.  Which one should he trip?
What were the chances of tripping both of them?  Gary decided that he
would have to take the man closest to him, and hoped Sam would do the
same on his side.

Gary waited until the men were about six feet from the back door, then
he soundless stepped forward, and swung the hockey stick low and hard,
right at both men's knees.

A howl of pain greeted the impact, but it wasn't enough to send either
gunman to the ground.  Gary immediately launched himself at the man
closest to him.  He saw Sam do the same with his man.

Gary's man had turned at the blow from the hockey stick. Gary's
shoulder took him full in the chest.  The whoosh of air being forced
from the other man's lungs at the impact was like music to Gary's
ears.

They both tumbled to the floor, with Gary on top. He heard the clatter
of metal sliding across the floor.  He hoped it was the gun.  Gary
tried to use his superior size to pin the man down, but the guy was as
slippery as a snake as he wriggled out of Gary's grasp. Gary lunged at
him again.  He couldn't let the killer get to his gun. This time, the
man's head snapped against the edge of the counter with a sickening
crack.  He fell limply to the ground.

Gary stared at the man in stunned surprise.  It had all happened so
quickly.  The sound of grunting quickly snapped Gary out of his shock.
He whirled to see Sam and the other man wrestling on the floor.  Gary
rushed to help.

He pulled the man off Sam, and threw him against the wall.  The man lay
still, apparently stunned.

Gary bent over Sam, concerned at the man's silence.  "Sam?  Are you
okay?"  Gary was relieved as Sam nodded, rubbing his throat.  Gary
grinned in triumph.  "We did it, Sam!"

Sam's eyes widened, and he croaked, "Look out!"

Gary whipped his head around.  The second attacker was rushing him, a
glint of metal in his hand. The gun!

Gary froze in fear.  He watched, seemingly in slow motion, as the gun
was raised and aimed at his chest. Gary flinched, closing his eyes at
the loud report of the weapon.

His eyes flew open a second later.  He wasn't hit!  The gunman was on
his knees, clutching his abdomen. Gary gaze shot to the left to find
Sam still crouched with gun extended.

******************************

"...So, I shouted a warning to Gary, and rolled over to stand up.  My
hand came down on a gun.  It must have belonged to the guy that Gary
knocked out." Sam explained to the police detective.

Gary was also giving his account of the events to a detective.

Sam's detective closed his notebook.  "Well, it appears from the broken
lock, and the long criminal history of these two kids, that the
shooting was justifiable." He nodded at Gary's approach.  "I was just
telling your friend that if we need anymore information, we'll call."

Gary stuck out his hand, "Okay, thanks Detective."

They shook hands.  The officer gathered his men, and within fifteen
minutes, McGinty's was emptied of everyone but Sam and Gary.

Gary yawned, suddenly exhausted.  He looked at the clock.  It was
almost one o'clock in the morning.  An ambulance had taken both wounded
suspects to the hospital.  Both were expected to live.  Gary was glad
of that.  Even though they had tried to kill him, he didn't want anyone
to die.

Sam and Gary went into the bar area.  Gary flipped on a few lights, and
got a beer out holding it up questioningly to Sam.

"Yeah, it sounds good." Sam smiled.

Gary grabbed another for himself.  He handed Sam his beer, and came
around the bar to sit on a stool next to Sam.

They drank in silence for a few moments, both men thinking about the
past few hours.

Gary set his bottle down, looking at Sam. "I want to thank you for
everything.  If you hadn't found that gun..." Gary's voice trailed
off.

"Well, you can thank Al for that." Sam confessed, smiling to the space
on the other side of him. Turning back to Gary, he explained. "I didn't
really just happen to find the gun.  Al found it, and told me where it
was."

Gary's eye's widened in surprise.  "He was there?"

Sam nodded.  "Yeah.  He's always watching my back for me."

Gary tipped his beer to the space that Sam had looked to.  "Is he here
now?"

Sam grinned. "Yes, Al's here."

Gary raised his bottle in a toast. "Thanks Al!" He took a swallow.
Then he nodded to Sam, "Thanks for everything, Sam."

Sam nodded, and tapped his bottle to Gary's.

Gary watched as a look of confusion swept over Sam's face.  Puzzled he
watched as Sam looked at the beer in his hand as though he didn't know
how it had gotten there.  Sam looked at his watch, his eyes widening in
surprise.

"Hey Gar!  What the hell are we doing out here in the middle of the
night?"

After a moment of surprise, Gary recovered, and laughed.  He raised his
beer again in a toast. "Welcome back, Chuck."