Fan Fiction

If anything, what kept them together was their brotherhood, more than the fight. The fight brought them together, that's true. When that was gone, they still had that connection, that love.

And THAT is the real victory......

Chapter 1 :: Chapter 2 :: Chapter 3 :: Chapter 4 :: Chapter 5 :: Chapter 6 :: Chapter 7 ::
Chapter 8 :: Chapter 9 :: Chapter 10 :: Chapter 11 :: Chapter 12 :: Chapter 13 :: Chapter 14 ::
Chapter 15 :: Chapter 16 :: Chapter 17 :: Chapter 18 :: Chapter 19 :: Chapter 20 :: Chapter 21

Mel McKinnin sat in the faded pink office drumming his fingers restlessly.  The airconditioner wheezed softly from the corner.  Papers buried the desk, he liked the clutter, it was an easy way to hide things.  Castillo's people were meeting early again and from the casual glance as he strode through the office, they hadn't slept in days.  He would be glad to leave here.  The paperwork was depressing and boring.  He suspected they were bullshitting him with most of it.  He really didn't care.  Let who ever came after him try and clean it up.  Checking his watch again, he collected a bundle of papers and organized it loosely.  He was well aware that he played an asshole superbly.  Everything he did was calculated for affect.  The only downside to isolating the office was not being able to see people coming.  He expected a knock on the glass door momentarily announcing the Asian Festival Representative.  Checking his watch again, he stood and shuffled papers casually, ready and prepared.  He was rewarded at last by a gentle rapping on the door and immediately opened it to an oddly assorted couple.  A Tibetan Monk in maroon and orange robes and an older athletic looking woman in a sky blue suit.  

Sonny saw the small group entering the outer office, led by a young black man he remembered vaguely as a crazy kid working as a courier and file clerk out of downtown during that weird crap everyone thought was UFO's.  The group disappeared into the lieutenant's office, and the kid headed back out the doors.  Good.  He recalled the kid as a hopeless loudmouth and didn't need him to suddenly point out to McKinnin that Rico was not a current  resident of this Funny Farm.  He mumbled,
"Get ready folks, we're out of time." 
Marco got up and went out to his desk to retrieve some additions to the bogus case file.  A faint breeze from the open door ruffled papers on the table.  The overworked air-conditioning was already failing to keep the conference room comfortable, and Sonny could feel the sweat trickle down between his shoulders.  Before Marco made it back into the room, Mckinnin was shepherding the odd couple in and everyone put on their official faces. Sonny hadn't seen a Buddhist Monk since he'd left Miami, and before that Vietnam.  Maroon and orange robes made that curious soft rustle and a faint scent of incense smoke entered the room with him.  The woman was somewhere past middle age, but without the desperate scrawny look of someone fighting to look younger.  She had the unconscious bloom of energetic organizer types everywhere and carried a shallow box.  With a mental sigh, he knew what would be in it.  Papers, maps, some sort of badges, he'd sat through this scene too many times with different participants.  Sonny hoped the Monk spoke English.  The two stood a little uncertainly just inside the door as McKinnin  moved into the room waving a handful of papers at the pair and announced,
"Mr. Dorjee and Ms. Culhane have information on the layout of the Festival events.  They can answer any questions you have for your assignment."  Then he walked out, abandoning the strangers.  The Detectives all watched him leave with numb dislike.
Ms. Culhane frowned after McKinnin uncertainly, then laid the box on the table and opened it saying, "I've brought Festival Staff Badges for you all that will get you into any area.  There are maps of the conference center and some of the hotels nearby.  The schedule of events is very full and there have been changes to the original programs.  I've made copies this morning of the latest hall schedule.  Mr. Dorjee has the schedules for religious services."  The monk settled a pile of papers on the table.  Marco walked in and seeing the man in monk's robes immediately bowed with hands clasped.            
"Namaste."  The monk returned the gesture with a smile.          "Namaste."

Arnie's head bobbed up, eyes half closed with weariness.  "Yeah, that's what he said."  It was like a bomb going off.  If a bomb could make things fall dead silent.  Trudy's head jerked up,
"Who said?"
"The Lieutenant, he said namas day."
Sonny's head nearly snapped doing a double-take mouth open,
"Marco.  What did you say?"
"Namaste.  No big deal.  I learned it at the last one of these events."
"What does it mean?"
"It's a greeting, sort of hello-goodbye, bless you kinda thing.  It's Tibetan.  It's really cool that the Dali Lama's going to be here again."
Sonny's blood ran cold.  He was muttering, "That's where he's supposed to meet someone, 9:00.  But morning or evening?"
Mr Dorjee had followed this odd interlude curiously and doubtfully.  His English was accented but excellent, "The festival begins at 10:00 o'clock every morning.  It ends at 10:00 each night."
Trudy asked politely, "Mr. Dorjee are there private meetings scheduled there?"
"Yes, I believe so."
"Are there schedules of all these meetings?"
The monk smiled, "Not everything.  All of the different spiritual groups have allotted time for private and public meetings.  You can learn more from the office at the festival."  The woman in blue narrowed her eyes at the people in the room.  "Is there a problem?  I know you're supposed to be looking for drug related activities, but we've never had any that we know of in all the years the festival has taken place."
There was an embarrassed silence for a second and then Switek spoke up.
        "We're real sorry, but somebody downtown is convinced you're about to be infested with Drug dealers.  We think it's about as likely as snow tomorrow."  Stan shrugged broadly with rolled eyes.  "But we're supposed to check it out just in case."
        The woman did not look too happy, but she nodded with resignation.  "I understand."  They asked her a few more questions and then thanked both of them profusely.  Archie kindly offered to lead them out to their waiting driver.  Everyone sat quietly until the couple passed out of the swinging doors.
        "Okay, best bet is that's where Castillo is headed."
Gina was sifting through the papers the Monk had left, she sounded deeply worried,  "he was supposed to meet someone at 9:00, but we don't know what day, or whether it's morning or evening.  Do you think that person is the target?"
        Sonny's face tightened,  "Yeah, or maybe a way to get him in there to hit someone else.  We need to start by checking all appointments for 9:00, mornings and evenings."  Gina spread the papers around quickly and passed the box with badges.  Everyone studied the schedules.  Stan finished his first, "Funeral ceremonies of Bali 10:00 to 12:00.  Balinese folklore small group 9:00 to 10:00 PM."  Trudy skimmed her papers, "Thailand temples slide show in the morning.  Private meeting at 9:00 PM, have to check it out there, doesn't say who or what on this."  Marco flipped his papers through several times and sighed, "Hindu group, all private meetings from 9 til noon, and 8 to 10."  Rico pursed his lips, "Dali Lama's got a heavy schedule, but most of it just says "audience", nothing specific."  Sonny studied another paper.  "Okay.  Divide this up, we gotta check what everyone's doing at 9:00.  Morning and evening.  We better move."   Everyone stood and started heading out.
"You really think he'll show up there?"  Trudy asked.  Sonny's head dipped, his lips pressed tight.
"Yeah.  I do."
Everyone was in motion.  Tubbs looked at Sonny thoughtfully.
"Sonny, I'll meet you there.  I want to go back and talk to Friedman."
"You got an idea?"
"Not sure, but I want to tell him about the voodoo magic and see what he thinks."
        "Go for it.  Anything might help us now."


10:23 AM Bayshore Hospital


Sidney's head hung down in exhaustion and wretchedness.  His office was already getting hot and the air tasted stale.  The light hurt his eyes even with the shades drawn.  Dizzy nausea kept attacking him at random moments.  He muttered through gritted teeth,

    "What did you give me?"

    "Sorry, bad choice.  I won't make it again."

    "I don't EVER want to see you again."

Freidman could hear the amusement in Reese's voice when the man replied.

    "Sidney, after this you won't.  I guarantee you will never see me again in this life.'

The Doctor's eyes narrowed.  He heard the truth in Reese's voice and knew it meant something important.  There was a sound in the hallway outside the door.  Reese came alive like a cat in slippery gliding motion.  His voice was gentle and curious.

    "Who are you expecting Sidney?  That's not Marty."

Freidman hung his head in abject misery.

    "At this time of day?  No one."

    Reese was ready when the light tap sounded on the door, he mumbled "Yes?" And it was opened in the next second.  Ricardo Tubbs stepped through the door, and hesitated for one shocked instant at the sight of Freidman tied to the chair.  He stepped into the room toward the older doctor and in that moment Reese reached around the door and struck with another pinprick .  The detective collapsed like a dropped sack of potatoes.  Reese caught him before he hit the floor.  With a bemused expression, he kicked the door shut and dragged the limp body to a chair.

    "We're going to run out of chairs here if this keeps up."

Friedman glared at Reese, "You'll get the janitor next."

    "Let's hope not."  Reese grinned and began tying Tubbs to a chair.  "You don't have anything left to tie people up with."  Friedman's face creased with dull thought and then he noticed the blind cords had all been cut away and they hung slack in the windows now.  Reese stood silent and relaxed as a cat waiting by a mousehole.
10:40 AM  Bayshore Hospital

        Ricardo Tubbs moaned as the world came back slowly and horribly into focus.  The air was hot and breathless, sweat stung his eyes and the second he moved his head everything got five times worse.  It felt like a muscle was pulled in his neck.  He jerked hard as soon as he realized he couldn't move his arms, and opened his eyes narrowly.  It was hard to focus against the dizzy nausea and somehow it didn't surprise him when Reese's face swam into view.
Reese smiled a deadly grin that made Tubbs think of a coyote.  "Well bucko, we meet again.  I'll bet all of Marty's brood is out looking for him now.  But you seem to be the only one here."  Rico wanted to snarl, but it just came out as an angry mumble.
"Who are you working for Reese?  You got some personal vendetta against Castillo?" 
The older man's smile never faded, 
"Kid, make no mistake, on his level it's all personal.  I just work for money.  Now, he's going to know something odd is going on in here.  So I'm going to leave before he gets here.  You might want to take a nap."  Rico saw it coming and there was nothing he could do about it.  This time Reese held something close to his face and Rico got an odd whiff of sour milk before the world blinked out.
        Edward Reese studied the two sweating unconcious men dispassionately and went to flick the airconditioner on before leaving the office.  It would be hours before they woke this time.  He locked the door and walked away silently down the hall.

10:43 AM Miami

        Anyone looking for a Taxi, might have wondered why this one
Had it's meter turned off in the middle of the morning.  The driver sat quietly reading a newspaper.  It was not a street where Taxis picked up many fares and the one person who spoke to the Driver got a serious look and a finger to his lips, "Shhh, customer taking a nap."  The puzzled woman frowned and glanced toward the dim interior. A barely visible figure slumped back in the seat.  She gave the Driver a look and walked away.
        Hank Weldon continued sitting as he had for almost 2 hours.  He had driven randomly around the city once he saw Castillo fall asleep.  It was an uneasy sleep, but sleep none the less.  He knew somehow that Castillo really needed sleep. 
The affable Taxi driver had once been a Brilliant Police Detective.  Until a long running investigation had carried him beyond psychic intuition to madness and murder.  More than seven years had passed since that time.  Castillo had cared enough to make sure that Weldon got treatment and was not simply locked away with his own nightmares forever.  Now Hank Weldon sat quietly, knowing without having to think about it, that he would wake Castillo in a few minutes and finish the drive to Bayshore.  It was the right thing to do.  The day was bright and the shade spot where he'd parked was just coming into full sun.
10:59 AM Miami

Shifting scenes of people, places, a job to do.  Fire in the blood slowly burning him up from the inside out.  A need to do something of terrifying importance.  Martin Castillo woke with a jerk, gasping for breath.  A dull headache pulsed, it took almost a second to recall where he was.  The smell of disinfectant and aging car interiors.  The taxi, the driver who seemed to know him.  Time seemed to be running in loops.  His voice was a hoarse rasp. "How long have I been asleep?"
"Oh maybe a couple hours, ya looked like you could use it."
With real doubt Castillo asked,
"Who are you?"
"A friend.  Let's get you to Bayshore Marty."

11:24 AM Bayshore Hospital

Castillo made his way casually into the busy hospital Lobby.  Disliking the smells that nagged at him with negative feelings but no memories he could grasp clearly.  He was shaved and dressed completely differently from when he'd left.  It was extremely doubtful that anyone would expect him to return here.  He found a list of offices and identified Sidney's.  He used stairways rather then elevators, making his way to the floor circumspectly.  A dozen yards down the correct hallway he heard the soft voice.

"Marty."

Turning, his eyes narrowed with baffled recognition.  A tall rangy man, thin for his size.  A shock of white hair.  Pale skin, pale blue eyes and a beak nose.   The tall man smiled down at the Latino.

"Reese?"

"Yeah it's me.  Let's get out of here."

"I came to find Sidney."

"He's not here, and we don't have much time."

"Why am I here in Miami?  Am I on a job?"

"Yes.  Sidney said you had amnesia.  You might not remember some things.  I'll explain everything later.  We need to hurry."

Without question, Castillo followed him.  They left the Hospital parking garage in Reese's car.  Once they were on the road, Reese pulled a cigarette pack from his pocket, flipped it open and began to talk into it.

     "Yes I have him with me.  Get my gear ready."  Castillo was startled, but none of it showed on his face, a great deal of dreamy hangover still pulled at him, images would suddenly cascade through his mind with complexities he did not want to deal with.  He pushed them aside, along with the nagging pain that was like fire licking at his skin.
     "What is that?"  his voice was cool.
Reese glanced at him, raised the device.  Castillo's eyes were coal dust absorbing all light.  Reese smiled a little, Marty never had been much of a talker since..S'nan.
     "This?  New type of radiophone.  Just a gadget."

3:20 PM Bayshore hospital

     Tubbs woke up because he was being poked.  He hurt all over, as if his whole body had gone to sleep with pinched nerves.  He opened bleary eyes and tried to make sense of what he was seeing.
"Come on Tubbs.  Wake up."  Odd, he didn't recognize the voice.  It was a nice voice, a trustworthy sounding voice.  The voice sounded a little cranky as well. 
"Tubbs wake up!"  He kept blinking, trying to come to mental life, it was slow.
"God I feel awful."  He moaned.
"I sympathize sincerely, but you need to wake up now.  I need your help.  Breathe deeply."
"Huh?"
"Breathe."

Ricardo Tubbs took a deep breathe and it was horrible.  He coughed for a minute and tears ran down his face.  When he stopped, he realized where he was, what had happened more or less, he felt miserable.  The New York detective swallowed and croaked, "Okay, I'm back.  I think."   He found Friedman's chair backed up to his and felt fingers fumbling at the cord that bound his hands. 
"I can't reach mine, I'm going to try yours.  If that doesn't work, you try mine."
It took forever, The detective finally loosened Friedman's bound wrists.  By then Tubbs's hands were painfully nerve pinched and the skin was nearly raw on his wrists.  While he struggled with fingertips and knots, Rico asked Friedman,
        "How did Reese know Castillo would come back here?"
"I was the only person he remembered."  The doctor grunted.
"We know The Cowboy had Castillo."
"I was afraid of that."  Freidman's voice sounded desolate.
"There has to be something we can do."
"It may be too late.  We never discovered a trigger mechanism, but I think I know what it is now."  Rico paused in his struggle.
"What?"
"Withdrawal."
"Huh?"
"There were drug traces that took a long time to analyze.  Long lasting nerve poisons to heighten the withdrawal effects.  To make it much more painful.  That's why I had him on methadone.  I think the withdrawal pains are the trigger to the programming.  Reese took him. I don't know who he's working for.  If it's the Cowboy, then he's taking him to the target zone."  Friedman's hands finally came free and he immediately went to his desk, opened a drawer and got out a pair of scissors, it only took a few seconds to chew through the cord with them.  "Tubbs."  He caught the man's eyes, "One thing about the Cowboy, he'll be there.  He's an extreme sociopath perfectionist and part exhibitionist.  He's the kind of man who loves to watch his weapons explode.  He will be within sight or sound of the target."
Rico rubbed his aching wrists and looked up at Friedman,
"What makes you so sure?"
"I researched him for almost a decade."

Chapter 1 :: Chapter 2 :: Chapter 3 :: Chapter 4 :: Chapter 5 :: Chapter 6 :: Chapter 7 ::
Chapter 8 :: Chapter 9 :: Chapter 10 :: Chapter 11 :: Chapter 12 :: Chapter 13 :: Chapter 14 ::
Chapter 15 :: Chapter 16 :: Chapter 17 :: Chapter 18 :: Chapter 19 :: Chapter 20 :: Chapter 21