Chapter 24 -- Why Do We Do The Things We Do
Author's Note: Strong R rating for actual violence.
Hey mister
Your eyes are full of hesitaiton
Make me wonder
What you're looking for
Maybe I want to know
Keep my reputation
And sensation
Goldfrapp - Yes Sir, I Can Boogie
Chapter 24 -- Why Do We Do The Things We Do
Pale morning came. Slowly, surely another day began in Chicago. Unknowing of the drama, of all the dramas, large and small, in the city, commuters began clogging freeways and expressways. They had no need of any other drama, the stop and go traffic eliciting plenty enough of small private dramas. Or at least abundant usage of curse words.
Mara woke and slowly opened her eyes without otherwise moving. Looking around the room, then out the window, she saw the first hint of the sunrise. She looked down where Rafe's head was resting, on her bosom, and was affectionately amused to see that he had managed to drool on her.
She breathed in a deep breath and prayed for many more mornings of drooling on her. Maybe this drooling was a result of his broken nose, maybe he normally wasn't a mouth breather. Though she knew that everyone was a mouth breather at least part of the night, she was saddened because she hadn't slept with him often enough to know if and when drooling came into play.
She started a little when she heard a faint sound out in the hallway: a cell phone ringing, evidently. Rafe didn't wake because of her twitch, he just grasped her waist more firmly and snuggled in a bit more. She smiled to herself. He had better not start fussing with the "pillows."
She heard a voice, one of the guards she supposed, talking on the phone. It was the wrong pitch for The Assassin. The Assassin seemed to be a few rungs further up the Outfit's ladder, she would bet her last dime that he rarely had to pull overnight "guard duty" like the two out in the hall.
Her eyes slid closed as her mind drifted back into a half-dream of being in her own bed with Rafe, his slumber more natural than the anti-inflammatory induced sleep he was in now. She wondered what would happen today. Would they get out? Would Rafe be the same nice guy he had been, the same one who told her he loved her? Or would he wake up and still be this distant creature she had encountered the night before. She drowsed, sleepily pondering her doubts and worries about what was to happen.
What if they were killed?
That thought jolted her fully awake again. She listened, but didn't hear the voice still talking in the doorway.
Her bladder made its wants known. She gently nudged Rafe to try to wake him up, at least long enough so that she could prop him in a sitting position against the wall. He muttered something unintelligible under his breath, but complied.
She stood and stretched and went to relieve herself. After she came out of the bathroom, she walked over to their "bed" and toed her shoes back on. Walking over to the window, she gazed out at what she hoped wouldn't be her last sunrise. Something had to give.
------------------
Jim Davies muttered to himself in the abandoned apartment across the street. Nothing budging, but...something had to give.
"Hey Jim!" the hushed, excited voice of his partner echoed against the walls of the empty room. "There's a woman up there on the top floor."
Davies dashed over to the window and trained his binoculars on the top floor window. "She looks like she matches that description of Kuntzler's missing female friend that may or may not be involved in this whole Lombardo / Moretti mess."
"Yeah that's what I thought, too."
Davies pulled out his cell phone to call the First's Office of Criminal Investigation, then radioed the unmarked unit down at street level. Time to start putting together a plan of action.
------------------
Mara was startled by a flash of light across the street. She peered at the window where the flash came from and saw someone was surveilling the area with binoculars. She waited until they looked her way again. It might be more of Lombardo's goons, but she had to try. She waved silently but frantically at the viewer in the window.
"What are you doig?" a plaintive voice asked behind her.
"Shhh!"
"Huh?"
"There's someone out there watching this room," she whispered in an urgent undertone.
"Get away from the window. It might be one of Lombardo's men."
"I...I don't think it is, the man has a parabolic mike, why would Lombardo be eavesdropping on us that way when all he has to do is have one of the guards outside stick his ear against the door. Or, hell, bug the room!"
She saw that the man was now aiming the dish in her direction. She said slowly and clearly, "Mara Pitts, Rafe Moretti, Kidnappees," and hoped that the microphone was sensitive enough to pick up the vibrations from the sound of those words off the window. She waited a minute and then repeated herself.
Mara looked behind her and saw that Rafe had gotten up. He was painfully walking over to the window and when he arrived there, he leaned against the wall next to the window. He peered out to try to see what Mara was looking at.
"See Rafe, that window third story from the top towards the right corner of the building. He's signaling something at us. Oh, crap it looks like semaphore. I don't know it."
"I do." Rafe squinted to try to see what the man across the way was trying to get across. "P..o..l..i... He's spellig 'police.' Okay, got tha... s...t...a...y, Stay..." He continued to whisper a translation of the brief message to Mara.
"He wats us to stay back frob the widdow, agaidst the wall."
"Why?" she whispered back.
"I'b guessig sdiper."
"Huh? Diaper!?" she exclaimed softly, puzzled.
"Crack shot. Doesd't wat to take us out. Sdiper."
"Sniper."
"Yes."
"So we just wait and hang tight next to the wall."
"Yes." Rafe gestured to the wall to their right, letting the policeman know where they would be standing. He continued to watch the signaling and told Mara that they would also try to infiltrate the building, which would be a relatively safer way than shooting across the street. The semaphorist had also told him to look out the window again in thirty minutes for an update. Rafe had signaled back an "okay."
"Well, let's just sit back down on the sleeping bags. And wait. And hope for the best." A tear ran down her face. She abruptly scrubbed it away with a hand. "Damn," she said, torn between fear and a dawning sense of relief.
When she turned away from the window, Rafe had already made his back to the sleeping bag and was setting himself down on it. She walked over to her bag, folded it and sat down crosslegged. She didn't get too close to this new, more uncertain incarnation of Rafe, didn't want to risk provoking a row and attracting the guards' attention.
-------------
The half hour was slowly dragging by, when the door flew open and The Assassin and the guards abruptly entered. "On your feet. We're leaving."
"What's happening?" asked Mara.
"Giancarlo showed up."
"You mean we're free to go?"
"Yes," said The Assassin. The slightest pause before his answer told Rafe a different story.
Springing into action, he shoved a surprised Mara to the floor as two rapid shots fired, breaking the window. Mara covered her head has shattered glass flew everywhere. There was one loud shot in the room, then she heard the whizz of a bullet fly overhead.
Stillness. Nothing moving that she could hear over her frantic breathing and pounding heart. She slowly turned her head to look towards the door and saw four bodies lying on the floor.
Four bodies...
"RAFE!" she shrieked and ran over to where he lay. Quickly rolling him onto his back to see where he had been shot, she saw blood quickly seeping through his shirt. "Oh god oh god oh god oh god," she implored as she ran to the bathroom to grab the towels.
Running back to Rafe, she folded one towel and pressed it down on him to try to stop the bleeding. She reached beneath him to see if the bullet had exited his body. It had, so close to his spine and kidneys, that she found herself uttering another anguished prayer as she folded two more towels and shoved it beneath him. She could tell by her quick touch exam that the exit wound was messier than the entry wound.
She gasped, and looked down the hallway, as the elevator came open, and three policemen burst out from it. She cried, "Oh help, don't shoot, help, help, we've got to help Rafe, oh God," she collapsed in tears over his unconscious body.
She half-heard a policeman calling for medical help as she continued to sob. She looked up at Rafe's still face, and reached out a trembling hand to feel for a pulse in his neck. Either she was shaking too hard or she couldn't feel one. She spit on her hand, and rubbed the spit around, holding her damp hand above his mouth. She couldn't feel any exhalations either.
Mara heard an ungodly howling grief sounding around her. Who was that? She realized that the keening wail was coming from her. They had killed Rafe. The policemen moved her aside and started CPR on the fallen man. She stumbled over to a wall and slowly slid down it, completely and utterly numb from shock. Rafe was dead.
Hey mister
Your eyes are full of hesitaiton
Make me wonder
What you're looking for
Maybe I want to know
Keep my reputation
And sensation
Goldfrapp - Yes Sir, I Can Boogie
Chapter 24 -- Why Do We Do The Things We Do
Pale morning came. Slowly, surely another day began in Chicago. Unknowing of the drama, of all the dramas, large and small, in the city, commuters began clogging freeways and expressways. They had no need of any other drama, the stop and go traffic eliciting plenty enough of small private dramas. Or at least abundant usage of curse words.
Mara woke and slowly opened her eyes without otherwise moving. Looking around the room, then out the window, she saw the first hint of the sunrise. She looked down where Rafe's head was resting, on her bosom, and was affectionately amused to see that he had managed to drool on her.
She breathed in a deep breath and prayed for many more mornings of drooling on her. Maybe this drooling was a result of his broken nose, maybe he normally wasn't a mouth breather. Though she knew that everyone was a mouth breather at least part of the night, she was saddened because she hadn't slept with him often enough to know if and when drooling came into play.
She started a little when she heard a faint sound out in the hallway: a cell phone ringing, evidently. Rafe didn't wake because of her twitch, he just grasped her waist more firmly and snuggled in a bit more. She smiled to herself. He had better not start fussing with the "pillows."
She heard a voice, one of the guards she supposed, talking on the phone. It was the wrong pitch for The Assassin. The Assassin seemed to be a few rungs further up the Outfit's ladder, she would bet her last dime that he rarely had to pull overnight "guard duty" like the two out in the hall.
Her eyes slid closed as her mind drifted back into a half-dream of being in her own bed with Rafe, his slumber more natural than the anti-inflammatory induced sleep he was in now. She wondered what would happen today. Would they get out? Would Rafe be the same nice guy he had been, the same one who told her he loved her? Or would he wake up and still be this distant creature she had encountered the night before. She drowsed, sleepily pondering her doubts and worries about what was to happen.
What if they were killed?
That thought jolted her fully awake again. She listened, but didn't hear the voice still talking in the doorway.
Her bladder made its wants known. She gently nudged Rafe to try to wake him up, at least long enough so that she could prop him in a sitting position against the wall. He muttered something unintelligible under his breath, but complied.
She stood and stretched and went to relieve herself. After she came out of the bathroom, she walked over to their "bed" and toed her shoes back on. Walking over to the window, she gazed out at what she hoped wouldn't be her last sunrise. Something had to give.
------------------
Jim Davies muttered to himself in the abandoned apartment across the street. Nothing budging, but...something had to give.
"Hey Jim!" the hushed, excited voice of his partner echoed against the walls of the empty room. "There's a woman up there on the top floor."
Davies dashed over to the window and trained his binoculars on the top floor window. "She looks like she matches that description of Kuntzler's missing female friend that may or may not be involved in this whole Lombardo / Moretti mess."
"Yeah that's what I thought, too."
Davies pulled out his cell phone to call the First's Office of Criminal Investigation, then radioed the unmarked unit down at street level. Time to start putting together a plan of action.
------------------
Mara was startled by a flash of light across the street. She peered at the window where the flash came from and saw someone was surveilling the area with binoculars. She waited until they looked her way again. It might be more of Lombardo's goons, but she had to try. She waved silently but frantically at the viewer in the window.
"What are you doig?" a plaintive voice asked behind her.
"Shhh!"
"Huh?"
"There's someone out there watching this room," she whispered in an urgent undertone.
"Get away from the window. It might be one of Lombardo's men."
"I...I don't think it is, the man has a parabolic mike, why would Lombardo be eavesdropping on us that way when all he has to do is have one of the guards outside stick his ear against the door. Or, hell, bug the room!"
She saw that the man was now aiming the dish in her direction. She said slowly and clearly, "Mara Pitts, Rafe Moretti, Kidnappees," and hoped that the microphone was sensitive enough to pick up the vibrations from the sound of those words off the window. She waited a minute and then repeated herself.
Mara looked behind her and saw that Rafe had gotten up. He was painfully walking over to the window and when he arrived there, he leaned against the wall next to the window. He peered out to try to see what Mara was looking at.
"See Rafe, that window third story from the top towards the right corner of the building. He's signaling something at us. Oh, crap it looks like semaphore. I don't know it."
"I do." Rafe squinted to try to see what the man across the way was trying to get across. "P..o..l..i... He's spellig 'police.' Okay, got tha... s...t...a...y, Stay..." He continued to whisper a translation of the brief message to Mara.
"He wats us to stay back frob the widdow, agaidst the wall."
"Why?" she whispered back.
"I'b guessig sdiper."
"Huh? Diaper!?" she exclaimed softly, puzzled.
"Crack shot. Doesd't wat to take us out. Sdiper."
"Sniper."
"Yes."
"So we just wait and hang tight next to the wall."
"Yes." Rafe gestured to the wall to their right, letting the policeman know where they would be standing. He continued to watch the signaling and told Mara that they would also try to infiltrate the building, which would be a relatively safer way than shooting across the street. The semaphorist had also told him to look out the window again in thirty minutes for an update. Rafe had signaled back an "okay."
"Well, let's just sit back down on the sleeping bags. And wait. And hope for the best." A tear ran down her face. She abruptly scrubbed it away with a hand. "Damn," she said, torn between fear and a dawning sense of relief.
When she turned away from the window, Rafe had already made his back to the sleeping bag and was setting himself down on it. She walked over to her bag, folded it and sat down crosslegged. She didn't get too close to this new, more uncertain incarnation of Rafe, didn't want to risk provoking a row and attracting the guards' attention.
-------------
The half hour was slowly dragging by, when the door flew open and The Assassin and the guards abruptly entered. "On your feet. We're leaving."
"What's happening?" asked Mara.
"Giancarlo showed up."
"You mean we're free to go?"
"Yes," said The Assassin. The slightest pause before his answer told Rafe a different story.
Springing into action, he shoved a surprised Mara to the floor as two rapid shots fired, breaking the window. Mara covered her head has shattered glass flew everywhere. There was one loud shot in the room, then she heard the whizz of a bullet fly overhead.
Stillness. Nothing moving that she could hear over her frantic breathing and pounding heart. She slowly turned her head to look towards the door and saw four bodies lying on the floor.
Four bodies...
"RAFE!" she shrieked and ran over to where he lay. Quickly rolling him onto his back to see where he had been shot, she saw blood quickly seeping through his shirt. "Oh god oh god oh god oh god," she implored as she ran to the bathroom to grab the towels.
Running back to Rafe, she folded one towel and pressed it down on him to try to stop the bleeding. She reached beneath him to see if the bullet had exited his body. It had, so close to his spine and kidneys, that she found herself uttering another anguished prayer as she folded two more towels and shoved it beneath him. She could tell by her quick touch exam that the exit wound was messier than the entry wound.
She gasped, and looked down the hallway, as the elevator came open, and three policemen burst out from it. She cried, "Oh help, don't shoot, help, help, we've got to help Rafe, oh God," she collapsed in tears over his unconscious body.
She half-heard a policeman calling for medical help as she continued to sob. She looked up at Rafe's still face, and reached out a trembling hand to feel for a pulse in his neck. Either she was shaking too hard or she couldn't feel one. She spit on her hand, and rubbed the spit around, holding her damp hand above his mouth. She couldn't feel any exhalations either.
Mara heard an ungodly howling grief sounding around her. Who was that? She realized that the keening wail was coming from her. They had killed Rafe. The policemen moved her aside and started CPR on the fallen man. She stumbled over to a wall and slowly slid down it, completely and utterly numb from shock. Rafe was dead.
posted by Dace @ 1:58 AM
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