Date: Thu, 23 Jun 2011 00:58:38 +0100 From: Micheal Chukwu Subject: The Game 12 *Saving McCall* Jake was going to run. McCall didn't know how he knew. Instinct. Razor-honed gut guess. Maybe no other guy would pick it up. It was like Morse code how Jake spoke with Donna Richards in the quiet warmth of the kitchen, and the strange responses on Donna's part, so utterly every day. Too common place. Like a code long devised. McCall looked at Wildman and Braveheart and saw the half-confused recognition of men who didn't know what was happening, but their radars were out and screaming. McCall didn't know how Jake was going to escape. He didn't know how Jake will manage it with Danny with Donna here. He just knew that Jake was planning leaving. Without telling him a thing. Hating this charade McCall turned away and reached into his pocket and brought the pager. *Ghost. Subject planning on escape. Check all charter companies for hire by anyone and block it.* Moments later, the silent vibration of the pager told him Ghost had received and understood. Jake would probably never forgive him of the betrayal, but *damn* it, he was doing it for Jake and Danny. Jake couldn't get out of the country alone, not with the forces Falcone had amassed against him. Alliance with the Nighthawks was his only hope for survival and freedom. He had to get Jake alone, talk to him. And no kisses this time... no sweet, drugging kisses that made the operative in him submerge like the Titanic, becoming all needing man, believing in Jake while he made plans that didn't include him. With a motion, he left the kitchen to the backyard; Wildman and Braveheart were nanoseconds behind him. "What happened tonight?" Wildman shrugged. "Cops took jurisdiction, sir, but it seems they ignored our orders and worked the family. They scared the hell out of the little kid." McCall nodded grimly. "The subject is planning escape. Ghost will be checking all hired escape routes. Buses and trains are too slow, but I want you to check out any fast routes to a sea escape, or airports. I can't see Jake using commercial airlines, but he might have fake passports for them. Check all incoming and outgoing calls and Internet bookings; call in the telephone company for data during the past twenty-four hours." Wildman frowned. "What about the kid? He wouldn't leave without his kid and the kid's here." "*Danny*," McCall snapped knowing that naming the boy betrayed his feelings for his subjects, but unable to stop himself. 'Jake's got something going with the Richards woman. Rendezvous; pick-up point. Panther will watch the house and follow them wherever they go. They won't know him, and he's our best at invisible tailing. Heidi can back him up in a second car at a prearranged point." He turned back to the house. "We've been out here long enough. Procedure clear?" "Hoo-yah sir." Wildman answered, and McCall could hear the grin in his voice. Yeah, he'd given away that he was in way over his head this time - but the check in Wildman's tone told him that he wasn't going to rat. McCall believed Wildman had his own, unspoken reasons for keeping quiet. "Roger all procedures, sir." Braveheart's tone was quieter, with respect for more than McCall's commander rank. Braveheart carried on a constant, if quiet, rebellion against the Nighthawk anonymity policy, annoying Anson whenever his fanaticism got in the way of operatives' personal lives. Braveheart's answer now was his way of saying that his superior's relationship with Jake and Danny Silver was nobody's business. "Good. Leave unobtrusively within five minutes and start obtaining objectives, including a tracking device on the Richards' car. Report back to me with any progress and keep the exclusive channel open. You may need to close in within minutes." "Roger that sir." This time the men spoke as one. They dipped their heads in acknowledgement of the orders, and went inside to thank Donna Richard for her hospitality. And through the pretty bay window filled with potted flowers, a pair of eyes slammed him with unspoken accusation. Jake was determined to do this on his own. If only Jake could accept the help he offered... *Falcone.* Falcone believed that Jake's body existed for his entertainment, and his entertainment was, if his sources in the world of organized crime had it right, to kill Jake himself, for making him appear like a fool in the eyes of his associates. He didn't care about what Danny would think. Danny was just an heir. McCall swore at that moment to set Jake free. Free from the slimy bastard. Walking into the kitchen, he placed a tiny device by the door before entering. He nodded at Jake. "Thanks for everything Donna. We'd better go back and check out the damage to Jake's house and secure it so he can sleep." Jake gave a little gasp. "Thank you, Brendan." Jake said, giving him the personal name he only used in front of others. "I'd forgotten the break in." McCall didn't waste words. "Let's go." He smiled and nodded at Donna and while shaking hands with her, placed a listening device under the kitchen-bench top. McCall placed another tiny device by the front door near the Richard's bedroom. They couldn't leave without the Nighthawks knowing. Before they left, he checked that the tracking device was in place. He revved up the engine of his motorcycle and pressed the button that lit up the small screen beside the speedometer. A tiny red dot, not yet a blip told him that the guys had done their job. Whatever plan Jake had made with Donna Richards was over for tonight. Wherever they went, the Nighthawks would be there. And McCall would be beside Jake - or right behind him. ******* Jake half expected to come home and find the house ransacked, since he jumped through the window right after McCall, leaving the whole thing open. But the house was still, silent, peaceful and in the slumbering darkness. Every piece of damage repaired, apart from the broken roof tile. Two people stood in the shadows of the living room - people who nodded at McCall and melted into the darkness outside when he waved his hand. Jake wandered through the house, dazed. Why hadn't there been another attack? Were the kidnappers the only people Falcone had sent? Surely not. And surely they hadn't just allowed McCall's friends to come in and take over, securing the place and... Jake went hot and cold all over. What if *they* were watching? Waiting to see if he ever took a man in his bed? Reporting on his life as they'd done in England right before they shot Dan? He'd been attacked tonight, straight after he'd almost made unbridled love with McCall on the kitchen bench. What if the attack had been a warning from Falcone? If he gave Falcone's perfect prize away, will McCall pay? His mind working furiously, he turned to McCall, who was checking out the repair job his people had done on the mangled screen. "It's safe enough for tonight. I'll order another screen tomorrow. In the meantime, just keep the window locked." "I will. Once you've gone." Jake out his hands in his pockets, glaring at McCall. "I want you to leave. Now." McCall folded his hands over his chest, his eyes cool and amused. "So you can run? I'm not going anywhere." "This is my house." Jake spoke through gritted teeth. "So get out or I'm calling the police." One of McCall's eyebrows lifted in that untamed face; he leaned against the wall with a cool, dare-you-to-do-it smile. "And that's supposed to scare me? Baby, I've dealt with the dogs since I was eight... and one word from me and they would be out the door. You saw it tonight. You couldn't even get to Danny until I told them to let you in." The breath dragged into his lungs as if it carried noxious smell. Eyes closed, jaws clenched, Jake decided to pick up McCall's gaulet and throw it back to him. "Those people were from your organization, weren't they? This whole kidnapping was set up to make me trust you when you brought me to Danny!" Apart from raising his other eyebrow, McCall made no move. "Nice excuse baby, but it's not cutting the ice." Jake had to restrain the urge to scream, yell and throw things at him. *Please God, if you care about this man the way I do, make him go away!* "You aren't staying the night here. Don't you get it?" Jake said. "In Danny's father's eyes, I belong to him. If he's here and sees you stay with me, he - he'll punish me for the rest of my life." Jake finished, knowing the words *he'll kill you* wouldn't cut the ice either, not with a man like McCall. "He'd take it out on Danny, and make me watch just to prove he owns us." Though McCall didn't touch him, the cool arrogance fell from him like a cloak he'd shed. "He won't get Danny - he'll never get a chance to get that close. We've dealt with Falcone before, Jake, and we can do this again. I meant what I said earlier. You might be way out of my league, but for what I'm worth, I'm with you, come hell or flood or Falcone's hit men. I might only have my strength and my dreams, but if it's enough to save you and your son, you've got it... for as long as you need me." *Fight it, fight it*... Jake clenched his fists even as his body swayed toward McCall. Oh, how he ached to take what McCall so freely offered; but he was fighting, not for his choices or Danny's freedom alone - he was fighting for McCall's very life. The life McCall had all but laid at his feet just now. And though he'd never given himself up to take that offer, he wouldn't risk McCall's life. He had to trample right over that selfless, beautiful offer if he was going to keep him alive. He'd rather McCall hated him for the rest of his life than he be forced to cry over his grave. "Sweet offer, really it is - but not enough." The words grated harsh and flat, like a magpie's cawing call. "You can leave now. I gave you your reward for taking me to Danny. I hope you didn't imagine you'd ever get more than a few kisses from me." Hating the harsh implications of his words, Jake's gaze flew to McCall's and he saw the he'd obtained his objective. McCall's face might have been carved in granite, it was so cold. His eyes glittered, cold and unfathomable. He'd withdrawn so deeply inside himself he wouldn't even know how to follow him. "Nice one Jake. You just hit a new low in manners. Your parents would be proud of you - I can hear the applause from heaven. Rule one – don't waste yourself on lowlifes that crawled their way out of the gutter. Like me." As if Jake's words hadn't affected him at all, McCall took his time strolling to the window. "Lock it after me. If you feel like slumming again at any time, I'll be on the roof, fixing the broken tiles. Got to keep the prince safe." Jake's eye's shut in agony. He pressed his lips hard to stop his rebellious heart from recanting the words. He couldn't stop McCall from following him when he made his move, but he had done what he could do to save McCall from the certain death that knowing him seemed to bring with it. This way, Falcone might think McCall was just an operative, and race to beat him rather than taking him out. A minuscule chance, but it was all he had. Even if he went to his grave aching for what he'd lost tonight, McCall had a chance of staying safe and alive... and he couldn't allow himself to want more than that.