Assignment - Part 20:

Blow Away

Lyrics by Staind

Live in my head for just one day
I see myself and look away
The road is showing now on my face
Soon I’ll disappear
I’ll disappear without a fucking trace

It all still seemed surreal.  As if a movie was being played out in front of him and he was merely a spectator.  It wasn’t real.  Couldn’t be!  This was just somebody’s sick idea of entertainment – pretending to kill main characters in the story.

But if it wasn’t real, than how come he had blood on his hands?

The red, warm fluid had started to dry in the cold winter air and Brian only clutched his black leather jacket firmer in his hands.  He couldn’t move, couldn’t take his eyes off the back of the ambulance as the paramedics put the gurney with Justin inside.

“Brian?” he heard.  “Are you sure you don’t want to go with him?”

Finally forcing himself to look away from the now closed doors of the ambulance, Brian turned to Lindsay. 

She took a step closer, her arm reaching for Brian’s in a comforting gesture.  “Come on, I’ll give you a ride to the hospital.”

He wanted to say something – anything - but no sound came out.  So, instead he turned his gaze to the bright lights of the ambulance as it pulled away, making its way toward the road, the piercing sound of the siren startling everyone around, including Brian.

It was if the wail of the siren brought it all home, somehow bringing Brian back to reality of it all.  The reality was - Justin was dying inside of a metal box on wheels with bright lights and a loud siren on top of it while the man responsible was probably celebrating now.

Through the daze of what had happened, Brian could, for the first time, see things clearly.  He knew what had to be done.

Turning away from Lindsay, he started walking toward the spot where he left his bike.

“Brian,” she called after him.  But he didn’t stop.  Couldn’t.  He didn’t even look back.  The time for looking back had passed.  He didn’t have that luxury anymore.

“Brian, don’t!”

It seemed she understood what he was planning on doing.  That, of course, didn’t surprise him, considering how well Lindsay knew him. 

Finally reaching the bike, Brian put it in the upright position before putting his jacket on – the same one he used to put pressure on Justin’s wound to slow the bleeding.

“Don’t what?” he finally said, turning to her.

“You can’t do this.  You can’t.”  Her features softened.  “Look, we’ll go back.  We’ll talk to Langley, get them to approve the official operation to take in Stockwell.  Do it the right way.”

Brian could only snicker at that, at how naïve it sounded.  “Come on, Linds.  How long have we been after Stockwell?  Two?  Three years?  And with all the evidence and all the proof we took back to Langley, they’re still piss-in-their-pants afraid to go after him.  You think they’ll do anything just because of Justin?”  His voice quivered.  “How many more people have to die before we do something?”

“Brian…”

He shook his head in defiance.  “No.  That’s it.  I’m done playing by the rules.  I’m finishing this once and for all.”  Nothing that she could say or do would stop him.  And she knew that too.

“If you go after him alone, he’ll kill you,” Lindsay made one last desperate attempt.

He knew she was right.  Stockwell had a small army protecting him.  Brian was alone in this.  But the truth remained that he didn’t give a shit anymore.  He looked down at his hands, red with Justin’s blood.  He could still feel the warm fluid flowing out of the wound, covering his fingers, soaking into the inside of his jacket. 

Brian swallowed the lump forming in his throat.  He glanced briefly at Lindsay.  “He already has.”

Before Lindsay had a chance to respond, he got on the bike and turned on the ignition. 

Without looking back, he drove away.

Faces that I’ve seen turn old and grey
I’ve lost too many friends along the way
Memories I never thought would fade
They fade and blow away

~~~***~~~***~~~

I wish that I could disappear
Unzip my skin and leave it here
So I could be no one again
And never let nobody,
I’d let nobody
I’d never let nobody in

 

It wasn’t the safest idea he had had in a long time – coming back to the loft, but he didn’t have a choice now.  All the supplies he needed were there.  Besides, he didn’t think Stockwell would anticipate him making such an obviously stupid move. 

Brian pulled over to the curb in front of his building, not really caring either way.  He had nothing left to lose.  He had nothing to be afraid of anymore. 

Faces that I’ve seen turn old and grey
I’ve lost too many friends along the way
Memories I never thought would fade
They fade and blow away

 

He pulled the door open and walked inside.  Aside from the pulled out drawers and a few things lying around on the floor from the CIA search after his and Justin’s altercation, it looked exactly like it did the last time he was here.  Only two days had passed since he walked out that door, but it might as well have been another lifetime for Brian. 

He looked around the empty loft, remembering that day.  He wondered if he had told Justin the truth right then and there, if things would have gone the way they did.  What if he hadn’t brought Justin into this at all?  Justin would probably be off on some mission or enjoying his life with Daphne or his family. 

Brian shook his head, trying to shake away the thoughts, the what-ifs, the memories.  He had to focus now.

Dropping his jacket on the floor right where he stood, Brian moved toward the bedroom.  But as he climbed the last step, he paused, the memories of being there with Justin flooding his mind.

So now the walls are closing in
Because in life you sink or swim
Sometimes these shoes don't feel right in my head
Feel like a book that can't be read,
A book that can't be,
A book that can't be read

 

“It was a really stupid thing coming back here.”

Brian spun around, surprised to find someone else in the loft.  Ben was standing in the middle of the living room.  Lindsay certainly worked fast.

“If you’re here to try and stop me, save your breath,” Brian told him.

“That’s not why I’m here,” Ben responded.

“Then why ARE you here?” Brian asked annoyed.  He didn’t have the time or energy to deal with Ben and his Zen ways at the moment.

“I’m here to help you.”

Brian sneered and turned away, remembering why he had come here in the first place.  Nothing and no one was going to stop him from doing what he wanted, what he needed to do.  He moved inside the bedroom.  “I don’t need help,” he said, shooting a glance at Ben over his shoulder.

Ben followed him.  “If you’re serious about bringing down Stockwell, you do.”

Brian stopped, Ben’s words striking a cord with him. 

“But if you’d rather just commit suicide, then by all means…” Ben continued.

Brian turned around to face the other agent, suspiciously studying Ben’s face.  He couldn’t help it.  Being distrustful of others was a part of his job, a part of his everyday life.  He couldn’t just turn it on and off any time he felt like it.  It was a part of him now.  “Why would you want to help me?”

“I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“That’s very sweet,” came Brian’s caustic reply.

“Look, I’ve been where you are.  I lost someone close to me.  And the CIA didn’t do shit to find the fucker that did it because of politics.  I don’t want it to happen again.  Justin deserves better than that.”

Brian looked away, unable to face the other man.  It felt like there was a ten-ton brick lying on his chest, suffocating him – his lungs and his throat and his eyes were on fire – burning with the unshed tears.

Brian forced himself to raise his head to meet Ben’s eyes.  “You said it yourself, it’s suicide.  Even with the two of us.” 

Ben nodded.  “It is.  But we have a better chance together.  Besides…” He glanced over his shoulder.  “We’ll have help.”

With that Daphne walked into the loft.  Brian watched, wide-eyed, as the young woman made her way toward them.

“We’ll have satellite coverage,” Ben explained, turning back to Brian.  “Building plans, body count.”

Brian’s gaze shifted from Ben to Daphne, wondering if she was up to the task.  He could tell she had been crying, her eyes were puffy and red.  But as she stood in front of him, there was nothing but determination radiating from her.

But even so, Brian didn’t want to bring her into this.  “You shouldn’t be here,” he told her.  He knew how Justin felt about Daphne working for the CIA.  And surprisingly along the way Brian found himself sharing those feelings with his lover. 

“Justin’s fighting for his life because of that fucker,” Daphne said.  “I want him dead and buried.”

Brian studied her face for what seemed like forever, surprised that he could no longer find any trace of the woman he had come to know as Justin’s best friend.  This was a woman determined to have Stockwell gone - angry and in pain, but strong.  Just what Brian needed.

He nodded.  He turned away from them and knelt beside the bed.  He pulled out a small wooden panel.  Putting it away, he then punched in the code to the safe he had put in under the bed, knowing that it would be the last place anybody would look for it.  Opening the small door, Brian pulled out a large metal case.  Tossing it on the bed, he opened that one as well to reveal an arsenal complete with different gadgets and weapons they would need to take down Stockwell – Brian’s personal stash.

~~~***~~~***~~~

Faces that I’ve seen turn old and grey
I’ve lost too many friends along the way
Memories I never thought would fade
They fade and blow away

 

Brian closed the door of the bathroom behind him, leaning against it for a moment and closing his eyes.  The three of them had finally finished going over the plan.  Now it was time to move. 

He pushed away from the door and walked over to the sink.  He glanced at his reflection in the mirror.  It was as if a stranger was staring back at him – a completely different person from the one he saw in his reflection earlier that morning as he and Justin dried themselves off after the shower – only minutes before they were attacked.

He had blood and dirt smeared all over his face and neck.  His shirt was in a similar condition.  And all he wanted to do was crawl into the farthest corner and stay there, hiding from the rest of the world, from the nightmare that had become his life.  But that wasn’t an option for him anymore.   

Brian looked around the room, spotting what he was looking for – a black sweater lying over the laundry basket.  Quickly taking his dirty shirt off, he tossed it on the floor, then walked over to the laundry basket and picked up the sweater and put it on. 

He then walked back over to the sink and turned the water on, quickly washing his hands and face.  He couldn’t let himself think about the blood washing off his hands, the red stream flowing down the sink and disappearing in the drain.  There’d be time for that later. 

Turning off the water, Brian dried himself off.  He walked over to the door and opened it, stopping in the doorway when he realized that the other two members of this operation were deeply involved in a conversation.  About him.

“I don’t know about this,” he heard Daphne say.

“You don’t have to do this, Daphne,” Ben responded, his voice soft and calm as always.

“That’s not what I’m talking about.  I want to do this.  Trust me, I want Stockwell to pay for what he did.”  Daphne’s voice was filled with even more determinate and anger than before.  “I’m just not sure Brian should be doing this.  Can’t you see how much he’s hurting?  I don’t know if his head is in the right place right now.”

There was a pause before Ben replied.  “His head is exactly where it should be.  He wants Stockwell dead.”

Brian took a deep breath and stepped out into the bedroom to join the other two agents.  “Let’s do it.”

~~~***~~~***~~~

It was already dark when the three of them pulled over to the side of the road a few blocks away from Stockwell’s mansion.  They used Daphne’s car – the least likely one to get noticed by one of the guards.  While Ben and Brian were heading out, Daphne would stay behind, monitoring what was happening inside the mansion on her computer, thanks to the satellite tracking system.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to split up?” Ben asked, turning to Brian.

The question was simple enough, but it took Brian a moment to regain his composure.  That was exactly what Justin said before Brian shoved the keys to the car into his hand that morning.  He couldn’t stop wondering what would have happened if he had listened to Justin instead and both of them had gotten in that car. 

Brian pushed the thought away, needing to focus on their plan instead.  “Coming in from two sides is our best chance,” he replied.  “And if I get caught, you have a chance to get out,” he added.  The last thing he wanted was to take Ben down with him.  He was grateful for the other agent’s offer to help, but being responsible for yet another person’s life was not something Brian had a strong yearning for.

Getting everything they needed from the trunk, the two agents left Daphne behind and moved to their positions. 

Brian moved toward the back of the estate – there were less men guarding that area and he had a better chance of getting in unnoticed.  The longer he could go without the other side knowing that he was coming, the better his chances were of getting to Stockwell.

Climbing over the fence, Brian moved toward the house, staying close to the trees in the shadows.  He could hear the dogs barking and men talking on the other side of the building and could only hope that the dogs wouldn’t sense him that soon.

The barking intensified, which got the attention of the guards.  Brian ducked into the shadows, hiding behind a large tree, but it was too late.  He was already spotted.

The men opened fire which Brian had no choice but return.  To his advantage, the men had no cover and Brian had them taken care of soon enough.  He was then free to move toward the house.  Of course, now everybody was on alert. 

Brian moved quickly, picking the lock of the backdoor and sneaking inside.  He was near the kitchen and could hear the guards’ frantic calls as they moved through the house.

“The living room is empty,” Daphne informed him. 

“Can you tell where Stockwell is?” Brian asked, already moving toward the large living room.

“Can’t tell from here, but there are three men in the South-East part of the house.  They’re the only ones not moving.”

That was where Stockwell’s office was.  Brian now had the target.  All he had to do now was to get to the other side of the house without getting caught.

He moved through the living room toward the hall that would lead him to Stockwell.  His advance was halted though, the guards having spotted him. 

Brian ducked behind a door just in time for two bullets whiz past his head.  He peeked out just enough to see his assailants and shot back.  More shooting followed. 

“Brian, you ok?” Ben asked in the intercom.

“Just peachy,” was Brian’s response as he came under more fire. 

He could already hear more men coming from the other end of the house.  He was in deep shit trouble now and there was no way out of it.  He was surrounded. 

Brian decided to move back toward the kitchen and then find another way out, but as soon as he turned the corner he was punched in the face and sent tumbling down on the floor.

Defenseless now, with his gun knocked out of his hand, Brian stared at the man who now had his life in his hands – a gun pointed at Brian’s head.

“Get up,” the man ordered. 

Brian was sure he had seen him before.  Of course, he would have, since the guards that worked for Stockwell would have been working for him for some time.  But Brian never paid much attention to names of the people who didn’t matter.  Until now.

Even though Brian started to follow the order, he was already being picked up from both sides by two other men.  Brian held back a moan as his hands were twisted behind his back, held in a tight grip by the men behind him.  He ground his teeth, not giving his captors the satisfaction of seeing him in pain. 

“Jim would like a word,” the one with the gun said and in the next moment Brian was being shoved down the hall toward Stockwell’s office.

The door opened and he was pushed inside, his arms still pinned to his back.  Brian stopped in the doorway, his eyes immediately meeting a pair of menacing ones.

Brian nearly tumbled to the floor as he was unceremoniously pushed forward.  He was walked over to a chair in front of Stockwell’s desk and shoved into it. 

Stockwell, who up until that point remained in his large, black leather chair, stood up and walked around the desk to stand in front of Brian, having very little concern for his life.  Brian could easily snap his neck before any of the guards would have time to react now that his hands were free.  Of course, then he would be an object for target practice for the other four armed men in the room.  Stockwell knew that as well, which was why, Brian assumed, the senator was so unafraid of him.

“Well, I have to say, I did not expect to see you again,” Stockwell began.

“What can I say?  I missed you, Jim,” Brian shot back, his sarcasm being his only defense now. 

Stockwell sneered.  “I gotta tell you, Brian, I never pegged you to be stupid.  Arrogant?  Yes.  Idealistic?  Maybe.  A fucking liar?  Definitely.  But never stupid.”

“I’d rather be stupid than be you,” Brian responded.

Stockwell leaned forward, his face only inches away from Brian.  “Did you really think you could just come in here and kill me?”

Brian wanted nothing more than to spit in the face of the other man.  It made him physically ill to be in the same room with him, let alone have Justin’s killer so close to him and not be able to do anything about it.  At least now, he didn’t have to pretend anymore.  “I was hoping,” he calmly answered, holding his adversary’s gaze.

Stockwell laughed as he once again stood up straight and leaned against the edge of the desk.  His expression changed just as quickly as before, his face showing anger once again.  “You put my family in danger,” he ground out.

“YOU put your family in danger,” Brian replied, barely keeping his anger in check. 

Stockwell stared back at Brian, before taking a step closer to the chair and leaning down, his face now so close, Brian could feel his hot breath on his cheek. 

“So did you,” he hissed.  “I want to see you die.  I want to see you take your last breath.  I want to see the look in your eyes when you realize that I’m going to go after every person that is important to you and I am going to kill every single one of them.  Your family. Your friends.  Your son.  How old is he now?  Two?  Three?”

Brian couldn’t hear any more.  He jumped up to his feet.  Grabbing Stockwell by the neck he slammed the terrorist against the top of the desk, squeezing the man’s neck with both hands.  He didn’t get a chance to finish the job as he felt a handle of a gun connect with the back of his head.  Brian let go of Stockwell’s neck and grabbed a hold of the edge of the desk for support as he tried to overcome the intense pain that had coursed through his body. 

He stood up straight as he felt a gun being pressed against his temple. 

Stockwell, meanwhile, straightened up as well.  He came up closer to Brian again, cautiously this time, as he rubbed his neck.  The red fingerprints that he could see on Jim’s neck gave Brian a strange sense of satisfaction. 

“You’re an idiot, Brian,” Stockwell said, stopping a few feet away.  “I could have helped you get the world.  Anything you wanted was at your fingertips.  Now you’re just a pathetic, worthless fag.”

He walked around the desk and sat back down in his chair.  “Kill him,” he ordered.

Brian prepared to die, taking one last breath.

But before he could exhale, the door was pushed open.  Before Brian could realize what was happening, three of the guards were down.  Brian moved to quickly disable the fourth one who was about to shoot him, knocking the man unconscious while taking a hold of the gun. 

He then turned to the man at the desk, pointing the gun at him.

“Who’s pathetic now?” Brian inquired as he faced the scared expression on Stockwell’s face.  “How does it feel to have someone else decide whether you live or die?”

Stockwell glared back at him.  “You may have won this round, but it’s not over.”

Brian leaned closer.  “I always win, Jim.  Always.”

The other man sneered.  “You lost your boy toy, didn’t you?  I hope you saw him die.  Watched him gasp for air as his heart slowed.”

Brian gripped the gun tighter, having to fight the intense desire to pull the trigger.

“How does it feel to know that you killed your boyfriend?”

Four shots fired shocked Brian as much as it did Stockwell who slowly slumped in his chair, giving out his last breath.

Only now did Brian realize that he was shaking.  He dropped the gun on the desk and turned around when he felt a hand on his back.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to do that,” Melanie said, glancing over at the dead body in the chair.

Brian looked around the room, taking in all the destruction, taking a deep breath in and exhaling slowly. 

He turned back to the woman.  “You realize you just saved my life, right?”

Melanie smiled.  “Yeah, I know.  I just figured that it’d be easier if Gus found out on his own what an asshole his father is instead of listening for years to come what a hero you were.”

Brian chuckled.  “Fair enough.”

They both cast a last glance at the room. 

“Come on, let’s go before Lindsay has a stroke,” Melanie said as the two moved toward the door.

The two made their way through the house toward the main entrance.  The house was filled with the CIA agents in field gear, gathering up surviving guards. 

Brian followed Melanie out the door onto the driveway.  The entire estate was bathed in light from the cars and flayers.

“Oh, Brian, thank God.”  Lindsay rushed toward him, relief written on her face, and wrapped her arms around him.  “I was so worried.”

“I’m fine,” Brian said quietly as he untangled himself from his friend’s grip.  “Thanks to your husband.”  He offered a tiny smile after Melanie lightly slapped his arm. 

“I’m so glad,” Lindsay said again. 

Brian looked around, realizing now just how many people were involved in this raid.  “How did you get this many agents on such short notice?” he asked, turning to Lindsay.

She shrugged.  “Called in a favor.  A lot of favors.  The NSA, the FBI, even the local police.”

“I’m impressed, Linds,” Brian commented, taking in everything around him. 

It was over.  Finally.  And now everything that had happened earlier that day began to dawn on him.  The adrenaline was gone.  The determination had disappeared with the last bullet he fired at Stockwell.  Now all he was left was the realization that Justin was gone. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride,” Lindsay said.  She seemed to understand.  Or at least, tried to – what Brian was going through now. 

He simply nodded and the two walked over to her car.

~~~***~~~***~~~

The drive home was quiet.  Lindsay, who rarely shut up when they were together outside of the office, barely said two words.  And Brian couldn’t be more grateful to her for that. 

He leaned his head against the window, blankly staring at the cars passing by. 

He was lost now.  When he went after Stockwell earlier that day, he had a purpose.  He had a mission.  He wanted revenge.  Wanted Stockwell to pay for what he had done to Justin.  But now – all he was left with was the knowledge that Stockwell was right.  Justin was gone because of him and there was nothing he could do to bring him back.

Brian felt the car come to a stop and it took him a few seconds to realize that he wasn’t home.  He right away noticed a lit “Emergency Room” sign a few feet away.  Confused, he turned to Lindsay.

“Room four twelve,” was all she said in return. 

Brian felt his heart begin beating faster now, as if he himself was coming back to life.  But he still didn’t let himself hope that what he believed her to be telling him was in fact true.

Lindsay understood his hesitation.  “He lost a lot of blood, but he’s going to be just fine.”  She sealed the good news with a soft smile.

Despite himself, Brian’s chin quivered and he fought the burning unshed tears that were threatening to come out.  He didn’t trust himself to speak, so instead he simply opened the door and got out of the car. 

Walking past an ambulance and a couple of sliding doors, Brian made his way toward the elevator that took him to the fourth floor.  He didn’t need to read the signs to know in which direction he was going and stopped only when he reached the door that had a sign ‘412’ on it. 

Brian leaned close into the small glass window in the door, staring at Justin.  His lover seemed so small in the large bed, hooked up to IVs and different machines, paler than usual.  Justin’s skin was almost as white as the hospital sheets and Brian couldn’t take his eyes off the blond’s face – the face he didn’t think he would ever see again. 

He reached with his hand to turn the doorknob, but stopped himself at the last moment.  Brian glanced at Justin through the tiny window once again. 

Stockwell was right about one thing.  Justin being here, him getting hurt was Brian’s fault.  He was the one who brought Justin into this in the first place and after all of that did a piss poor job of protecting him.  Justin was lucky this time.  Who was to say what would happen the next time Justin got tangled up in Brian’s crazy life.  Being with Brian would always put Justin in danger - that was the one thing he knew for sure.  And Brian couldn’t allow that to happen.  He was resigned to keep Justin safe at all costs.  And that included keeping Justin away from him.

Brian’s hand slipped off the doorknob and he took a step backwards.  This was for the best.  For both of them.  For Justin.

Casting one last glance at his sleeping lover, Brian left the hospital.

Live in my head for just one day
I see myself and look away
The road is showing now on my face
Soon I’ll disappear
I’ll disappear without a fucking trace

Go to Part 21

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