The Program Ch. 07

Even bracing herself, she was completely unprepared for the explosion of pain that came from his fist connecting solidly with her ribs just over the healing gunshot wound. The blow knocked the wind from her and her knees buckled with a sharp cry. Something had snapped and sharp, stabbing pain drowned her ability to think. She cried out again as he yanked her head back with a fist in her hair. Everything lurched and she swallowed back the urge to vomit. She tried to concentrate on getting air back in her lungs, but each breath set off a new wave of pain in her side.

She clenched her jaw and coughed as he slapped the side of her face playfully. "Officer James, I need you to pay attention to me."

She grunted and managed to open her eyes, tears clouding her vision. "What!" she hissed.

He smiled again. She was going to have nightmares about people who smiled like that. "Maybe I've been going about this the wrong way. I know you're trained for things like this. Obviously you have a high tolerance for pain, but..." he trailed off as his eyes gazed over her shoulder. "I wonder if she does."

If who does? Her brain seemed to stall. Taylor sagged as he released her, a wave of blackness crashing through her mind as she slumped against the restraints. She sucked in a breath, fighting off the unconsciousness. She was dizzy. She groaned as she felt the warm trail of blood that spilled slowly down her side, soaking into her shirt and pants. No good. God, she was woozy.

Wilson shouted behind her and she shook her head to clear it.

"Don't touch her!" Wilson yelled again.

Taylor heard a feminine whimper and Wilson grunt in pain. Her stomach dropped. The fucker was going after Danny. She struggled to right herself as VanTerran dragged Danny in front of her. He dug his fingers into Danny's hair and pulled back, bringing a knife to her throat. "I would just kill your partner, but I've heard that's been done before. Little good it did then."

"What are you talking about?" she hissed through clenched teeth.

"The last time you were close. What was that man's name? Ramond... Ransom... Redford... I can never remember." He waved the knife dismissively. "Doesn't matter. I had him killed. He didn't really know anything, but you can't be too careful."

"Ransford?" Taylor blinked, a cold sweat breaking out across her skin. Ransford had been a dead end witness that was killed in a prison fight the first day in.

"That's the one! He only had two jobs, and only managed to kill the one. Stupid."

"Two?" She shook her head to refocus her eyes. Ransford had been working for VanTerran? Behind her, Wilson sucked in another breath, struggling to refill his lungs, and she was absolutely seeing red. VanTerran was the embodiment of everything evil she'd come across in her life. He was Kev, and Gregerson, and Brenner, and Bryce, and Ransford. He'd ordered Mick's death. Taylor didn't know it was possible to wish something worse than death on another person until that moment.

"But I've always been able to take care of my most unsuccessful employees, even when you've held them," VanTerran continued. "I should have taken more interest in that side of my operations back then. I could have had you killed too. Would have saved me a lot of trouble now."

Taylor tried to rally her strength. "You piece of shit," she coughed out, her legs shaking with the effort it took to stand upright. "I'll kill you."

VanTerran laughed. "No, that's not how this is going to work." He pulled back sharply on Danny's hair and she cried out in surprise and pain. "I'm going to ask you a question, and you're going to answer me. If not, I'll carve little pieces away until there's nothing left."

"No, don't hurt her!"

Taylor bit back a groan as Bill's voice cut off as though he hadn't meant to speak aloud. VanTerran turned. "It looks like someone here does care if you're mutilated," he cooed in Danny's ear. She shuddered but somehow kept her footing as he dragged her closer to Bill.

Wilson was still sucking air from where VanTerran had kicked him in the stomach. He managed to roll onto his knees and winced. He had to get Danny out of here. He had to get Taylor out of here. He needed a miracle. He pulled at his restraints feeling the hard plastic slip ever so slightly.

"Where is it?" VanTerran hissed at Bill.

A look of mad panic swept across Bill's face. "I... I don't know."

Taylor gritted her teeth. He was going to kill Danny if someone didn't do something. Hell they were all dead if someone didn't do something. And the best solution she could see was just to kill that fucker before he could kill them. She blinked away the coloured spots that clouded her vision and lurched upwards, the small amount of vertical she managed was just enough to clear the riot ties from the hook overhead. She stumbled on unsteady feet and collapsed to her knees, gritting her teeth against the pain of all the blood rushing into her arms.

VanTerran spared a glance her direction, chuckling when she collapsed and turning his attention back to Bill. "You know, I had big hopes for you kid. I was going to take you with me. You would have been filthy rich. Shame really."

Taylor didn't really feel the concrete greet her knees, and she didn't feel the pain of the ties digging further into her wrists. Something in her brain switched off and she managed to push herself to her hands and her knees, then up to an unsteady stance on her feet.

Bill couldn't hide the surprise from his face as he saw Taylor rise, and it drew VanTerran's attention. He frowned as she found her footing. "You really want to die, don't you?" He gave Danny a shove, sending her tumbling against Bill, and advanced on Taylor.

Taylor barely avoided the first swish of the knife as he swung at her. She dodged and back-pedalled, anxious to put space between them. He lunged, and Taylor caught his wrist with both of her hands, pushing it up and over her shoulder while turning, and she brought her knee up into his gut. VanTerran grunted and dropped the knife, but caught his balance before Taylor did, and drove an elbow into the small of her back, knocking her to the ground.

Taylor caught herself on her hands and knees and didn't have time to scramble. VanTerran's foot connected solidly with her stomach and she rolled, coming to a stop on her back, shaking and wheezing to fill her lungs with air. The sole of his shoe pressed against her throat and her eyes flew open as she sucked in a short breath before her air was cut off completely. She tried to leverage his foot off of her airway, but with her wrists still bound, her arms didn't have the strength.

He smiled down at her. "You know, I'm sure I can get the information I need from the other three here. I really don't need you." Taylor felt the pressure on her neck increase and silent gasps formed on her lips. She kicked her legs, trying to find some way of shaking him off. Her vision blurred and she felt her face turning colours. She didn't want to die.

Wilson had fought to get his legs under him and steady. Even the smallest amount of weight on his bad ankle brought shooting pain up his leg, but he needed to get Danny out of here. He watched VanTerran shove her aside, but his relief was short-lived. As Taylor was knocked to the floor, he felt a wave of rage wash over him. That fucker was going to die. He pushed off the wall and rushed at VanTerran, dropping his shoulder and driving into the man's back.

There was a shout and Taylor felt fresh air rush into her lungs. She gasped and rolled, resting on her hip and forearms, sputtering as she alternately sucked air and winced at the pain in her ribs.

"Taylor!" Wilson shouted from his awkward position on the floor, and she managed to lift her head high enough to notice the glint of metal and she stretched to collect the knife that VanTerran had dropped. She twisted and winced as VanTerran cold-cocked Wilson in the face. He dropped Wilson's shirt collar and snarled, pulling a gun free from the waistband of his neatly pressed pants and aiming at Wilson's chest.

Taylor might have heard Danny scream as she scrambled, sweeping her leg out and cutting VanTerran off at the knees. She didn't hesitate. As he fell backwards to the hard floor, she launched herself onto his chest and drove the knife home. Taylor clutched the knife where it plunged into his chest, staring at the way the knife protruded from the dark red stain in his shirt. Her eyes flicked to his face and he actually looked surprised for a moment before Taylor pulled the knife out. A warm rush of blood spilled from the hole in his chest and she watched as he gasped for air, as his eyes glazed over, and as his chest stopped moving.

Taylor grimaced and slid off of him, turning away from the gruesome sight. It hurt more than she wanted to admit, but she managed to turn the knife in her palms and saw through the thick plastic ties. She rested on her hands and knees as the world seemed to spin around her. God she was woozy. "Taylor?" Bill's voice seemed to cut through the fog and she blinked the room back into focus.

With a groan, she moved to Bill's side and sliced through the ties on his wrists and then Danny's. She watched from her knees as Bill and Danny stood. Danny threw herself against Bill's chest and he closed his arms around her automatically. Something in Taylor wanted to be jealous, but she couldn't find the energy. Besides, the action only confirmed something she had begun to suspect earlier at the cottage. A clamber from the floor above carried down the hall and echoed around the concrete room. The pounding of feet and shouts became discernable and Taylor heard a loud voice shout, "CIA!"

"Thank God for that panic button," Taylor whispered. Bill offered a hand up, but Taylor shook her head slowly. "Go on, I'll get Wilson and we'll be right behind you."

Bill stared down at her for a moment as if contemplating an argument, but he nodded and steered Danny toward the stairs. "Right behind us?"

Taylor nodded. "Right behind you, Boy Scout."

With a groan, she crawled to Wilson's side and sliced through the ties on his wrists. With a glance at the blood-coated knife, she tossed it aside in disgust. Wilson grunted as his arms came free, opening his eyes as Taylor shook him gently. "Come on, Wilson. I need ya right now."

Wilson grumbled as he pushed himself up to his hands and knees, carefully prodding his eye where swelling was already noticeable. He squinted around the room. "What happened to Van..." he trailed off as his eyes fell on the man's body. He gazed at Taylor, something like sympathy in his eyes, "Sorry."

"I'm not," she whispered bitterly.

Wilson reached for VanTerran's discarded gun and tucked it into the back of his pants before struggling to his feet. Once he had his balance, keeping as much weight as possible on his good leg, he held out a hand for Taylor.

She looked up at him and groaned. "Do we have to?"

He grinned and nodded, "I'm sure there's piles of paperwork to do." Taylor's groan changed sharply into a gasp as Wilson hauled her to her feet. "You ok?"

Taylor shook her head as they made their way toward the stairs. "I want a hot bath and a bed and maybe some morphine too."

What had been silence upstairs erupted into shouts and crashes, and Taylor felt her stomach drop. She didn't know how much fight she had left, but she had sent Bill and Danny up there. Fear had her pounding up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She knew Wilson would only be a step behind her.

"CIA! Drop the gun!" Taylor recognised that voice. In the back of her mind, things started to piece together, but she was running too hard to stop.

"I don't have a gun!" She rounded the corner in time to see Bill with his hands out, taking a protective step in front of Danny. "We're not armed!" Who was he talking to?

He wasn't more than twenty feet away, just at the end of the hall, but everything slowed to the point of time stopping. Bill pushed Danny aside, knocking her into the adjoining corridor. He jerked suddenly, a look of surprise on his face as the sound of the shot reverberated in the narrow hallway. Taylor could see the small puff of smoke and knew the shooter was just beyond the corner. Danny screamed. Bill collapsed bonelessly to the floor.

Taylor dropped to her knees, sliding the last three feet to his side. "No," she breathed, watching a vivid stain spread across his chest. "No, no, no." She pressed down with both hands, covering the hole as Bill's face grew pale. "Bill! Stay with me, Bill!"

"Get up!" the man snarled. Taylor gritted her teeth, but she wouldn't move her hands, it was all that was keeping Bill alive.

She glared over her shoulder. "You son of a bitch," she hissed. VanTerran did have someone in NCS working for him. She should have known.

Bill sucked in a breath, gasping with pain and need for air and Taylor turned back to him. He didn't look good. "Bill," she called, wincing at the blood that seeped between her fingers.

"I said get up!" he barked.

"Fuck you!" she shouted.

"Three seconds," he snapped. "Two..."

Taylor heard the metallic click as the gun was cocked and she clenched her jaw. She wasn't going to look. Fuck that. If he was going to shoot her, he was going to have to shoot her in the back.

"One."

She threw an arm protectively across the back of her head and covered Bill's body with her own. She sucked in a breath and held it, her eyes clenched shut, every muscle tensed for the impending impact. When the gun went off, she screamed.