Battle the Dark: Chapter 40

Chaos ensued, with the knocking on the door of the man in the bathroom, the commotion among the members of the Men of 21, the scattering of the RA21 troops, and the entrance of John, Timothy and Shaun, and all resulted in a dangerous mess.  More guns were pulled; they could hear the clicks of their safetys unlocking and the sounds of cocking weapons.  Blair whispered, "What should we do?"  They were within feet of the entrance, against the wall in a small alcove.


"I say add two more guns to the heap," the nun said.  "John is going to need us."


"I said, American FBI, drop your weapons." His voice echoed, and Blair wanted to applaud.


A gun went off, and both women jumped.  Rushing toward the entrance of the meeting area, with their guns drawn, they ran directly into Carlo Hesser, who was attempting to escape through the catacombs.  Blair pointed her 9mm glock and said, "Not so fast.  Stay right there, you freak, where I can shoot you stone dead, fucker."


Carlo halted.  "Ah, such demure language from the esteemed Mrs. Manning.  Perhaps we can discuss this?"  He raised his hands.


From inside the room, McBain boomed, and the three of them could hear, "Now, all of you, hands on the wall.  Let's go.  You're all under arrest."


Shaun said, "What about Hesser?"


"Shit, he got away."  John said, "Go after him, and be careful, the little guy is a conniver."


Blair raised her voice, "He didn't get anywhere!"


John, from inside the meeting room, could hear her voice echoing, clearly.  "Blair?"


"Yeah, it's me.  And Sister.  Let me do what I have to do, John."  She turned back to Carlo.  
"Discuss what?  You tormented my husband, for years, kept him from us, tortured him, in all sorts of ways.  What should we discuss?"  She said, clicking her gun into place, "Unless it's your funeral?"


John, still frisking and disarming the remaining few men, called back to her, "Blair, don't do anything you'll regret."


"Oh, I won't regret it."  And she aimed for his forehead.


"Blair, wait," Shaun said, stepping onto the scene.  "Don't do this, he's unarmed, and he's going to jail.  It's over.  You don't have to..."


A voice in the near distance said, "Ya gotta stop this violence now, it has to stop here.  Hesser, you don't deserve this, but I agree Blair, this is not what ya need to be attending to."  It was Patrick Thorhart, and over his shoulder, hanging unconscious, was Todd.  "This man here," he said, setting him down, "needs the attention you're wasting on this excuse for a human being."  Thornhart and Shaun both pulled guns on Carlo, and held them there, as Blair handed hers off to Sister Rebecca Katherine, who now had two pointed at the head of leader of The Men of 21, one in each hand.


"Todd!"  Her cry echoed through the tunnels.  She raced to his side, crying, and pressed her hand to his forehead.  Her cool touch alerted him, and he groggily opened his eyes.  "Blair," he said, reaching for her.  He wanted to be sure she was real.  She softly embraced him, and he lost himself in the scent of her hair.


"Yes, it's me.  Oh my God, you're alive."


"I'm here.  I'm..."  He was out again. 


"My God, John!  John, please?"


John entered the corridor, as the last one of the few remaining men was taken out through the entrance way.  The police backup had finally arrived, and the Irish Police assisted in cuffing and carting off Carlo, who stopped in front of Todd and Blair.  "This is not over, Mrs. Manning, and it never will be.  If he lives, this vendetta will.  But from the looks of things, I wouldn't count on either," and the police pulled Hesser away, and took him through the rocky corridors.  


John put his gun back where it belonged, and went to Blair.  "Manning, Manning, you all right?  Can you hear me?"  John was already calling for paramedics.  "He's in shock, lost a lot of blood?"  He looked up, and his eyes met those of Patrick Thornhart, who nodded.  "Thornhart.  You're alive?"


"I guess I must be.  He's in bad shape.  He's been stabbed, brutalized, starved, dehydrated.  I tried to give him water, he's thrown most of it up.  He knew me, though, he was lucid, at least for a bit before he went out."


"How long has he been unconscious?"  John asked, trying for a pulse.


"Over an hour.  Maybe longer.  We had quite a journey, avoiding both subversive groups.  I was a member of the RA21.  I came here today to stop them."


"Stop what?"


Sister Rebecca Katherine stepped forward, "They wanted to blow us all up.  Blair threw the bomb into the well."


"Yes.  I knew about the attack they planned.  Around here, detective, it works best if you do things yourself.  The police are not very reliable."  Thornhart said.


"I can tell that.  I called them an hour ago."  John added.  "Let's get him out of here, into the theater, so the EMTs have an easier time.  How long will they be?"


"Did you say he was an American, yeah?"


"Yes, I did."


"It won't be long, then."  


Patrick bent and hoisted Todd over his shoulder again, and Blair, through her tears, said, "Patrick, thank you."


"Ah, Blair, I know what he meant to ya, and what he still means to ya."  He carried him, and all followed behind.  


In the theater, Patrick placed Todd down carefully on the floor, ready for the paramedics to attend to him.  Blair, holding his hand and sitting by him, sobbed and prayed and Sister Rebecca Katherine, moved herself away from the group and went to her knees, again holding her beads and praying profusely.


"Todd, please open your eyes, please."


He did as she asked.  His beautiful, hazel eyes, though not as bright as always, looked into her green ones.  "Blair.  Don't leave."


"I'm not leaving.  You're where I belong.  You know that."


"Thornhart," he croaked out.


Patrick came to his other side.  "What do you want Manning?  It wasn't enough for ya that I carried you all day?"  His voice was tender, unmatched to his snide words.


"I was wrong about you, back then.  I was in pain, my life, seemed gone.  I owe you, for what you did to try and save me today."


"Try and save you, you're here.  You made it.  There's your pretty wife, right with you."


Todd's face showed that he did not believe he had long.  "No, listen, not long.  I'm sorry for the....sorry for the trouble I caused you in the past.  I was wrong.  Blair,"  he turned his head to her.


"I'm right here, right here."


"I'm sorry."


"No, no, there's nothing to be sorry for."


"I can't.  I can't stay."


"No. No, Todd, you can't talk that way."


"I'm cold.  I'm cold and I'm...it's dark."


"Yes it is dark, we're all in the dark. Todd."  She brushed her tears off her face quickly, "You have to stop talking like this.  The boys need you.  Starr does, I do too."


He winced, and closed his eyes, then opened them, with a single tear cascading down each side of his face.  "Blair.  I love you.  I'm sorry it took me so long, to just love you, the way I should have from the start."


"No, stop, now.  That's over with.  We've been there and done all of that.  We've got a long time to make up for all of that.  Don't quit on me!"


"I love you."  He said, again, his eyes shutting.  "Blair," he was quiet.


"Nooo!" Her cry echoed through the entire theater.  The paramedics, finally arriving, raced down the aisle of the old theater; the nun was still praying, more urgently; Blair was crying, as Shaun took her away from his side; and Patrick, turning from the group, buried his forehead in his hand.  


John, approaching Timothy, said, "This can't happen.  Not now.  The guy just struggled through eight years, and then another five days of utter torment.  This can't happen."  Timothy, who was without words, put a hand on John's shoulder, and could not speak.  Blair, inconsolable, threw herself against the wall, and, sliding down, collapsed in a heap.  "No, Todd, no, please."


"Get him to the hospital, stat."  The paramedic shouted, and they lifted him to the gurney.  He took his walkie talkie and said into it, "Have emergency ready, severe dehydration, blood loss, will need tranfusion, mutiple lacerations and odd cuts/scrapes all over the body.  He's in shock, possible DOA."


Blair screamed, "He's not dead, John, tell me he's not dead!"  And he crouched to her level, taking her, like crumpled fabric, into his arms.  She was shaking uncontrollably, and within a few moments, she began shivering.  


John said, "She's going into shock, paramedic?"


One of the paramedics went to attend to Blair, and they readied her for transport.  She, on the gurney, waiting for another ambulance muttering nonsensical things, and Todd, in the back of one already, were separated once more, as the vehicles sped, one after the other, to Beaumont Hospital.  


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