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

Long experience with surveillance had taught Gina and Trudy the value of being prepared.  Although it had been perhaps the last item either expected to need, they both now scanned the main hall balconies with tiny binoculars.  Gina was doing what looked like a slow motion dance, trying to get a clear look at each balcony.  At her side, Trudy was going through the same odd motions and spoke up, "I just saw Stan and Arnie, those plants really make it hard to see the doorways."  

"There's Rico, I think...Yeah."

"I see Sonny."

"Wait a second, something's going on."

"Where are you looking?"

"Above the yellow banners."

"SHIT!"

Maintenance corridor.

Sonny Crockett ran up the narrow stairs toward the balcony.  It was the third balcony and he was getting winded.  Rico had leapfrogged forward to the next stairway.  The door was closed, strange.  So far they had all been open at the top of the stairs.  With one hand he opened it and pushed lightly with a foot.  Holding his gun in both hands. He took a single step through the doorway.  Into a scene set in Hell.  Martin Castillo held a sniper's rifle pointed down into the crowd through the strange plastic plants.  The dark head turned marginally, eyes impenetrable as black glass watched him.  Sweat sheeted down the gaunt face.  Crockett's voice shook.

"Marty NO! Don't do this! Put the gun down."

Crockett could feel the sweat trickling down his own face.  The dusty concrete smell made him want to sneeze.  The sheer horror of his position was overwhelming.  He COULD NOT do this.  He had no other choices. 

Martin Castillo, the cop he most admired in the world, would expect him to do the right thing.  No matter how painful or heartbreaking.  He HAD to get through to the man somehow.   

"Marty, please. . Please don't."  Sonny saw no recognition at all in the bottomless black eyes.  His chest hurt for lack of air, the man made no move to drop the rifle.  Crockett's voice shook with desperation.

"Remember me?  Marty?  From the hospital?  I came back here to find you after you disappeared." 

Black eyes watched him without moving a muscle.  A tiny wisp of hope made Sonny blink back tears and swallow carefully. 

"Sidney Friedman figured out what happened to you, you were taken by Emil the Cowboy.  He made you forget everything, to make you into an assassin."  The black eyes were like holes punched into a stone.  Sonny went on steadily fighting not to let all hope die.  "I worked with Martin Castillo for 5 years.  He would rather die then commit this crime." Sonny was afraid to blink, Martin seemed to be looking through him as if nothing was there.  Sonny's voice cracked.  His chest felt so tight it hurt.

"Marty. Please.  Put the gun down.  I don't want to do this."

Sonny Crockett prepared to pull the trigger when the stunning blow fractured the world from light into darkness.  He was not aware of hitting the concrete floor.

Dale Menton stood in the doorway still holding the ridiculous chrome long barrel .38 he had clubbed Sonny with, watching with eager burning eyes.  Castillo's face remained empty as he turned away, pressed his eye to the scope and fired two silenced shots into the crowded floor below. 

Convention Center Main Exhibition Hall

Emil and Hans stood in anticipation.  There was a discordant blast of Tibetan mountain horns.  They watched the procession making it's way across the huge space toward the Tibetan temple.  Emil smiled as he recognized the target in the procession of Monks. He felt only a frozen blink of surprise when someone hit punched his head.

Balcony, Dream Coast Convention Center

Menton stumbled over Sonny's body in his hurry.  He stepped out onto the balcony.  There was a murmur and then a cry and the sounds of movement below. A huge grin broke across Menton's face.  He already had things planned, he'd put his chrome .38 in Crockett's hands and tie this package perfectly. "I'm not taking any more chances with you Castillo."   He fired three body shots, the reports deafening in the balcony space and echoing in the Hall.  It was with great satisfaction he saw Castillo thrown against the balcony wall and slide down.  From behind him, he heard Reese's gravelly voice. 

"You didn't have to do that you know."

Dale Menton couldn't stop grinning as he turned toward the door and snarled, "I've waited too many years to do that.  Now it's your turn."

"Not yet." A flinty voice whispered.

Menton whirled and fired again, but a second report echoed with the first, and he was already falling. A fine spray of blood from the exit wound in his head peppered Reese with red mist.  The corpse of Dale Menton tumbled in an untidy heap. 

Before the body settled on the floor, Reese was moving again, extremely conscious of the clock running out on this mess.  How loud the gunfire had been to his ears.  The beginnings of panicked crowd noises from the floor below.  The man with cold pale eyes smiled.  They picked the wrong friend this time.
Convention Center Main Exhibition hall

Marcos saw the old man falling when he was halfway to the floor.  Instantly thinking Old Geezer heart attack.  The procession was already past that point in the crowd when he realized there was more than one body.  There were people bending over the bodies and high pitched worried voices, and suddenly incredibly loud gun reports from somewhere above.  A panicked wave of people running out and away.  At that point Marcos flipped open his cell phone and dialed 911 and talked as he followed the procession hurrying out of the open Hall.

Main Exhibition Hall Balcony

Sonny's eyes flicked open.  Nauseated and dizzy, his body would not move, for a horrible instant he feared he was paralyzed.  Focus.  Must Focus!  Will power made him struggle enough to see a Grey suited body lying in a spreading pool of blood.  HUH?  He fought to shift his head without throwing up.  A second man came into view, the sight sent an adrenaline rush through his body like an electric shock, he scrabbled for his gun, could not find it.  The man seemed to move like invisible lightning.  Suddenly he was in front of Crockett's frantic eyes.  He was holding Sonny's gun.  A strange toothy smile on his face. White hair, gawky nose, pale skin and almost colorless blue eyes.  With a cold thrill of terror in his nearly helpless state, he was sure who this was.  Reese!

"No kid.  You can have this back in a minute.  Just stay put and everything will work out fine."

Before Sonny's blurry eyes. Reese suddenly had the assassin's rifle and was tucking it into the corpse's left hand.  Then he was rifling the man's clothes and taking things.  Sonny blinked, it was so hard to focus and be sure of what he was seeing.  No, Reese was putting things into the man's clothes.  Crockett struggled to move but his body was like wet spaghetti noodles and he was only able to shift enough to see Castillo against the balcony wall, blood darkly gleaming as it soaked the arm of his jacket and Reese walking toward the lieutenant with Sonny's gun in hand.

"NO!"

The big man simply ignored his raw cry and laid the gun on the floor.  Pulled a wallet out of a pocket and jammed it into the inner pocket of Castillo's jacket. Then he picked up the gun, stood and stepped back.  Sonny was baffled by what he was seeing, he knew he was missing something vital.  He gasped out,

"What have you done?"

Reese turned and looked him full in the face for a long second and his mouth spread in a wide wolfish grin.

"Me?  Nothing kid.  HE'S the real thing."  Sonny's eyes couldn't hold focus when Reese walked toward him and laid Sonny's gun on the floor with a metallic clunk.

"Relax now.  You've got a headache."  With that statement Reese was holding something near Sonny's face.  The faintest odor of sour milk.

"H?.."  And he was out.

Castillo slumped against the wall, trying to breathe against the pain in his chest.  The bitter smell of weapons discharge was strong in the small area.  He wanted to swipe the wet straggle of hair off his forehead but simply didn't have the strength.  The feel of bones grating with little stabs meant broken ribs, his left arm was numb and he had no idea yet how badly it was clipped by Menton's last shot.  The slow moving tornado in his mind continued tearing the scenery apart and revealing deeper secrets behind it.  He felt his heart beating erratically and darkness threatening to close in.  Fire in his blood seemed to be consuming his body.  He was so tired he was ready to just let it all go.  The workings revealed too much, things he simply did not want to know anymore.  Rough hands shook him, dealt a sharp smack across both cheeks.  An angry voice growled,

"Come back!  You son of a bitch!  You stay here!" 

Castillo opened his eyes, it was so hard to breathe.  The agate-eyed man staring at him had white hair.  Memories blurred together and reorganized.

"Reese."  It was a simple statement of fact.

"Marty, I betrayed you.  Do you understand?"

"You were the only one left."  Castillo's voice was only a whisper.

"We swore to do whatever it would take to stop Emil.  No matter what the cost.  You were the youngest then."

"I remember."

Reese looked at Castillo with a bitter half smile.

"You were the best I ever worked with Marty, I gave you up for this.  I became everything you hate.  I made sure you could never forgive me, so there would never be a chance of you remembering.

Senji said you were the best Assassin he had ever made, and this would ruin you."

Castillo sagged a little deeper against the wall.  Every breath an effort.

"No.  The right choice."

"I don't like leaving you to bleed partner, but That weasel Menton never could shoot worth a damn.  He just nicked your arm, the vest took the rest.  Just remember Menton was the shooter."

Castillo's eyes were thin slits of black, his response a tired sigh.

"Yes." 

"It's okay partner.  I've already cleaned up the details.  Your friends will be here any second.  You were always good at making friends Marty.  Tell me, was it worth it?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Castillo hung on, trying  with all his will not to slip into unconsciousness.

"Where do you go now?"
"Now?" 

Castillo could hear the grin in the rising inflexion of Reese's voice, almost a chuckle.  "Now I can quit this shit and disappear." 

"Reese?"

"Yeah Marty?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be.  The debt's paid." 

"In full."

Reese crouched there for a few seconds studying the man, then laughed, and the sound of that laughter followed Martin down into a hazy darkness.

6:15 PM  Dream Coast Convention Center

The SWAT TEAM members who showed up, found a DOA with a very high quality L96A1 silenced sniper's rifle and a flashy chrome Long barrel .38 still in his hands.  Two police officers were down, One with a head injury and Portland Oregon PD, the other one was Miami PD and alive only because he'd been wearing a vest.  Fortunately they both carried ID.  It looked to experienced eyes as if the sniper had found one Cop about to enter his chosen Hide and taken him out quietly with a concussion.  The other had obviously come up after the killing and tried to apprehend the sniper.  He'd gone down with multiple shots to the body armor from the Desert Eagle .38 but still managed to get off the kill shot.  When one of the team members read the ID, he smiled and snorted.  "Martin Castillo.  Yeah, I know this guy's rep.  I'm not surprised he took the guy, even after that."  The SWAT Team member winced when he thought of the number of broken ribs Castillo probably had.

Light was pressing on his eyelids like lead sinkers.  The next thing Sonny Crockett became aware of was extreme discomfort.  His head was the size of a boxcar being pounded with artillery fire.  He hurt everywhere that wasn't numb.  He dragged in a shaky breath and groaned slightly at the horrible affect on his brain.  The nagging need to do something was dragging him to the surface through a minefield of pain.  He wanted to hide in a dark hole for a hundred years, or at least until his head stopped pounding, but he had to do something.  Reflexively he jerked, trying to get his body under control.  He couldn't move and tried harder with a real groan this time.

"Sonny?"

"Huh?"

Crockett blearily realized his eyes were shut tight and managed to open them a crack.  A white hot icepick jammed into his head. Uniforms everywhere.  Cops, Paramedics. Good.  I guess.

It came to him that he knew the voice.  Gina, yeah. Good. He mumbled slowly.

"Castillo?"

"They think he's gonna be okay.  Your head's bleeding.  You've been unconscious.  You're strapped to a board.  They're taking you down in a few minutes. Do you know who the dead guy is?"

Dead Guy?  Sonny's mind fumbled through disordered bits. Yeah, there was a dead guy.  Grey suit.  Everything was so muddled, nothing made any sense.  His voice was scratchy.

"Think he hit me."

"Who is he?"

"Don't know."  He never saw a face, wait..something familiar about the body?

Then Reese's face came back, a shock of faded hair, big nose, and wolf's head grin.  Did Reese hit him?  It didn't fit.  Nothing fit together. What was going on?  Sonny swallowed with difficulty.  Not sure if Gina was still close enough to hear him.  He managed to mumble.

"Gina?"

"Yeah Sonny?"

"What happened downstairs?"

His eyes were still shut tight.  He really didn't want to know.  What ever the answer, it was going to be bad.

"Two men were killed, Argentines. They evacuated the building.  It was a silenced weapon.  We heard the gunfire when he shot Castillo.  SWAT got here before us.  I don’t know how they got here so fast. They think it was political, the Argentines both had diplomatic passports."

Huh?  Sonny's eyes opened to slits for a second.  He caught just a partial glimpse of Gina's dark hair and the edge of Tubbs?  Face.  His skull was splitting, and his mind refused to focus.  Nothing made sense. Before he could say anything else, other voices interrupted, "We're taking him now.  You can talk to him at the hospital."   Then came the awful lurch as the backboard was lifted, and things fuzzed out while they were carrying him down the stairs.

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