Chapter 10
Sorry for the long wait. Thanks for the reviews. Please R&R.
Maybe they could put and end to this before more innocent people died. And maybe this was the end for them all.
Mark reverently studied the little cell phone in awe, a daring, somewhat crazy plan forming in his keen mind. He detached himself from the terrible situation that could kill him and the ones he cared about most. After a relatively short period of vaguely watching John pace nervously with the detonator clutched tightly in hand, Mark's eyes lit up with radiance that signaled an idea.
"Alright, fine you win," Mark admitted softly, gaze drifting to the floor in a sulking manner. "Please, just don't kill me and my son. Ally and Sam are not at the beach house. I'll tell you where they are; just let us out of here if you must blow the hospital up."
The three other sane inhabitants of the room looked up and gawked at Mark, confusion,and disbelief flooding their expressions.
Steve was horrified that his father would even think of something like that. Didn't he know that John would use Mark to kill the girls and them, no matter what deals were made? Murderers like John couldn't be trusted. What was his father thinking?!
Mark once again took time to consider his plan. It was risky, extremely risky, and John could blow everyone up at a moment's notice. He hoped he wouldn't have to carry it out completely. Mostly, it was a desperate scheme to buy time. The door to the hospital room was cracked open. John really had gotten sloppy. Why wasn't the door closed, locked, and barricaded? Mark was immeasurably thankful for this; hopefully one of the nurses would see the situation and contact the police before anything really terrible unfolded.
John hastily glanced at Mark in surprise, then gazed at him skeptically. After noting the older man's apparent depression, the mistrust vanished and he cracked a wicked grin.
"I knew you'd come to your senses, Doctor. Now, where are the girls?" John inquired with some irritation.
Mark met John's expectant look with melancholy eyes, before turning to a very distraught Steve and winking. Jesse and Alex also caught the subtle hint, although they couldn't even begin to fathom what Mark was up to.
Cheryl waited in her crimson sports car near the entrance of the hospital, impatiently searching for Steve about every ten seconds. Where was he?! He was supposed to come out with that John character fifteen minutes ago! Not one to sit around and do nothing, she finally climbed out of her vehicle, locked it, and stormed into Community General, grumbling as she went.
Inside, the building was a beehive of activity. Nurses, doctors, and other staff trotted around, some barking orders, others fastidiously carrying them out. Cheryl, knowing exactly where she was going, ignored them and sauntered towards the large silver elevators and pressed the round white button to go up. If Steve gave John to a uniform and was having a coffee break or something while she was sitting there worried sick, he was going to pay.
Cheryl strode into the boxlike area when the elevator reached the main level, receiving a blank stare from what she guessed was a visitor with a nasty cold. She thought about trying to hold her breath to prevent against infection, but decided that would look rather rude and that she probably didn't have the lung capacity to deny herself oxygen for the entire ride. If Steve was doing anything other than catching that guy, and she got another horrible cold, he would wish that he had a different partner.
After what felt like decades of enduring constant wheezing and uncovered sneezes, she reached the correct floor and dashed out of the contaminated elevator. She straightened her back and angrily advanced to Theresa Rumen's room.
Cheryl peered into the space through a small opening in the door, exasperated eyes searching for any person. Mark, Steve, Jesse, and Alex stood completely motionless, faces ashen and very, very frightened. John was holding what looked like a cell phone in his sweaty hand and chuckling maniacally. How could a cell phone keep them so subdued, unless it was... the trigger for a bomb. The heinous scene before her caused her to inhale a sharp intake of air and stumble backwards in shock. This was not supposed to happen.
Cheryl tentatively retreated further, whipped out her cell phone with superhuman speed and proceeded to dial for backup, hoping her friends wouldn't in any way be harmed.
"Let me get this straight," John fumed at Mark, "you want me to just let you go?! That's not part of the plan! You could tell the police... You are the police!!"
"Why is the plan so important to you?" Mark asked evenly, meeting the madman's hysterical glare.
"It... it just is!! Leave me alone; j.. just leave me alone!" John stuttered angrily, pacing nervously around the small room. Shiny droplets of perspiration cascaded from his face, and his hands were soaked in sweat.
Mark was satisfied with his progress. He had made their captor nervous, sloppy. Hopefully, Mark could convince him to let them out by pretending to show John where Sam and Ally were. Then, someone would be bound to find them, or Mark could tackle John in a car and crash the car into something. Either way, he was convinced that they would get out of the hospital and found by the police- alive.
Mark stood facing the clean white wall and the door, which was still stupidly ajar, while Steve studied John for the right moment to pounce, and Alex and Jesse stared blindly at a spot on the floor. John himself, back facing the door, was ambling from one corner of the room to the other, then repeating the motion.
Mark's mind flew into full speed when he thought he spied something near the door. Squinting for a better view, he was able to make out a distinguishable pair of eyes. They'd been spotted! They were saved!
Cheryl allowed herself one last peek at the situation unfolding inside and was incredibly elated to find that John was not facing her way. Then she locked ayes with the dismal, frightened eyes of Mark Sloan. She knew that he had seen her; maybe he could help buy more time until backup arrived. And she still was not completely certain of the details of the hostage situation.
"Why, tell me again, why are you doing this? Why are you trying to blow up the hospital, my house, and the ship the girls' parents are on?" Mark asked with conviction, secretly relaying exactly what was going on to whoever was watching.
"Valentine chose Smithsone over me! It... It's the plan, so just shut up!!" John replied testily, with more fear appearing in his voice after every word.
Cheryl once again found herself drawing in an acute breath out of shock. She had no idea it was that bad! Did that guy really have bombs in the hospital, the Beach House, and a ship?! She would need to call the bomb squad and maybe ask for a sharpshooter in case anything went horribly wrong, although she hoped it wouldn't come down to that. Cheryl couldn't very well order an evacuation of the entire hospital just because some nut with a cellphone said there was a bomb. She would just have to stop this guy before things got out of hand.
"Look, John, you don't have to do this," Mark feigned sympathy in any last attempt to get him an a tangent so the police could stop this.
"I said, shut up old man!" John rebutted, boldly striding up to Mark and giving him a shove.
Steve, biting down an incredible urge to sock the guy right in the face, glared at John. "Leave my father alone or I'll redefine the term of using 'excessive force'" he growled.
"And what are you going to do about it, Hotshot?" John asked sweetly, now walking over to the lieutenant and sending a flying foot into Steve's gut.
Cheryl was watching the whole scene. This was getting bad. She was dreading it, but it looked like this wasn't going to be resolved in any peaceful way. Her backup hadn't arrived yet. What was taking them so long?! Cheryl gripped her gun protectively, ready to assist in the situation at a moment's notice.
Steve gasped, partly in pain, partly in shock, and drew back a little, wondering if he would get a chance for a surprise attack.
Mark also had witnessed Steve's reward for defending him and was now boiling with rage. He knew it was futile to say anything and that there was no way he could physically take on a man of that size.
Amanda, Jesse, and Alex were horrified and resisted the desire to say something, anything. They stood perfectly rigid, just staring at Steve and John. Not one of them could stand watching their friend get hurt right in front of them, but there was absolutely nothing they could do to help Steve.
John, satisfied with the grimace of pain and the enraged expression Steve was exhibiting, decided to attack again. He once again drew his foot back and swung with full force at Steve's ribcage.
Steve, refusing to take any more abuse without retaliation, let his police training kick in. He neatly and easily dodged the blow, sliding out of the way at the last second. Then, Steve's hand shot out with exact precision and caught John's left hand, the fingers of it grasping at the phone. This was Steve's chance; if he blew it, they could all be killed.
John was stunned that Steve had dodged and now was holding him. In a fit of anger, he tried in vain to press the right button on the phone to end this and finish the plan. Steve hadn't missed the frantic move and swiftly twisted John's wrist, causing him to drop the phone with a thud.
John scrambled to the floor to reach his weapon, but Steve wasn't about to let that happen. He caught his own foot around John's and tripped him from a kneeling position to being sprawled out on the floor. Then, seizing the opportunity, Steve leaped onto John's back, futilely trying to pin him down. John's hand was inching closer and closer to the detonator.
It was then that Steve and John noticed Cheryl's presence. "Freeze! Don't even think about trying to reach for the phone!" she demanded positioning her gun the best she could at the wiggling mass of arms and legs without the chance of getting Steve in the line of fire.
Cheryl advanced and quickly scooped up the phone, placing it gently in her coat pocket. Now convinced that John was no longer a threat, she re-holstered her gun and prepared to help Steve get the lunatic under control.
With a sudden burst of unexpected energy, John flung Steve off of him and right on top of a very startled Cheryl. John stood quickly and darted out of the room, whilst Mark stared in awe, Amanda gazed around panicked, and Alex took in the series of events shocked, unmoving. Jesse debated whether or not to pursue John, but decided against it, knowing he would likely get himself killed, either by Steve or John himself.
Steve was the first to recover, soon followed by his partner. Each dashed after the fleeing man, praying he wouldn't get away when they were so close. They ran into a fork in the corridors of the hospital, having lost John's trail. Cheryl went left, and Steve right.
Steve raced through the hall, ignoring the disturbed patients and guests who practically jumped out of his wild path and their sharp looks and curses. They weren't important right now. The only thing that mattered was catching this insane killer.
Steve's keen eyes spotted his target as John escaped via the emergency staircase. The detective picked up his speed considerably in pursuit. He flashed by a nurses' station and swung the heavy door open that separated him from the stairs John was running down. Steve all but rolled down the flights in haste to make his arrest; he was speedily filling the gap between him and John.
Steve wouldn't underestimate this guy again; he was ready to go to great steaks to catch John. Dreading the searing pain of what his next action would most certainly bring, Steve tackled John while they were both racing down the stairs.
The action sent them both tumbling down the remainder of the hard cement steps and into a heap on the floor. Steve managed to control John to some extent and have him pinned to the floor.
The tireless John once again sprang up and this time threw a powerful punch at Steve's eye, sending him flying into the wall behind him.
Steve quickly got back on his feet and pounced on John. John somehow managed a mighty kick to Steve's ribs. Steve twisted John's arm into an extremely painful grip, causing John to let out a sharp yelp of agony.
In the midst of their drawn out, pained fight on the ground on the stairwell of the building's first story, Cheryl burst into the stairwell. The door hit the large struggling ball and two grunts of pain came from multi-appendaged form.
Startled, Cheryl drew her gun and then realized that the ball was actually Steve and the madman they were arresting. Cheryl raced over to assist, roughly dragging John off of Steve and pushing him against a wall. After padding him down for weapons, she swiftly cuffed him, recited to him his rights, and went over to help Steve.
"Hey," she greeted softly, "Are you OK?"
"Yeah," Steve gritted through his teeth, his hand going up to stop the bleeding of several cuts of his face. "Man that guy is tough."
Steve sat on the large couch in the doctors' lounge, a few stitches on one of the gashes on his forehead, and holding an icepack to his left eye.
"Well, Mark, your plan did work, but you should have had backup there. It could have ended a lot differently," Cheryl said from her seat on one of the lounge chairs.
"Yeah, I'm just glad nobody was seriously injured and nothing was blown up," Mark agreed thoughtfully.
"Did they actually find any bombs?" Jesse inquired, sipping tasteless coffee from his blue mug.
"Well, there was a pretty good sized bomb found and successfully deactivated in the hospital, so he wasn't lying. There was a small bomb found on the beach, in a portable cooler, near Mark's house, and we don't know yet about the boat," Cheryl answered smoothly.
"I don't understand why he didn't set the bomb off earlier when he had the chance," Alex piped up from the corner where he was pouring himself another cup of coffee.
"That's because the cell phone wasn't set up the way he thought it was. I imagine he was pretty scared when he realized the button that was supposed to set off a bomb didn't work," Cheryl summed up.
"But if he would have pressed the right combination, we'd all be dead?" Steve asked plainly.
"Basically, yes," Cheryl replied frankly.
Mark let out a low whistle. "So he did try to kill us but made it look like he was waiting for something since his trigger didn't work," he repeated mostly to himself.
"Well I'm just glad he's behind bars," Steve declared.
"Hey, Steve, since you don't really have any more competition, do you plan to do anything with Teresa? It'll be awfully hard to have a serious relationship with her being in prison and you a cop, though," Jesse blissfully changed the subject.
Jesse couldn't quite dodge the big yellow pillow expertly thrown at his head.
"Ha, ha. You know, not all the women I've dated were crazy, psychotic killers," Steve stated defensively.
"Oh, yeah. Some of them were murdered, some we..." Jesse trailed off as yet another pillow hit him square in the face. "Would you stop that?!"
"OK, that's enough, children," Mark jokingly reprimanded.
At that moment, Amanda came bustling into the lounge carrying a small slip of paper.
"You'll never guess what I just found," Amanda announced cheerfully.
"A check for a million dollars?" Jesse interjected.
"A note from John. It was in a dumpster right outside of the hospital. It was supposed to be found after the hospital was blown up," Amanda explained.
"Wait a minute," Steve interrupted, "You found it in a dumpster?! Why were you looking in a dumpster?"
"Well, I was kind of looking for an earing I think fell into a trashcan. I went to see if it was in the dumpster, but it was empty, except for the note."
"So what would you have done if it wasn't empty: dug through the trash?" Steve asked skeptically, still incapable of picturing a self-respecting woman like her scrounging through garbage.
"C.J. Made it for me. It was really important to him and I wanted to find it," Amanda admitted, blushing slightly.
"Oh," Steve spoke quietly, now embarrassed for his nosy behavior.
"Well, come on, read the note," Mark prompted eagerly.
"OK, it says, 'Dear anyone who found this note. How did it feel to have your precious hospital blown to smithereens? Or about losing the great Detective Sloans? Well, I guess you can put me down as a serial killer now. I'll kill a few more people before my final kill. Feels good, you know. Catch me if you can, but remember, my power. Ha. Ha. Gotcha.'"
Steve smiled to himself, as did everyone else in the room. Gotcha, he thought with satisfaction, before rising to go back to work on yet another grueling murder case.
The End (I think)