Three Very Unique Pawns in a Chess Game

Chapter 4:And then there was one

Chapter 4.

"Michael I think we need to stop".

Michael turns around, the annoyed expression on his face says it all.

His breathing had increased and he was sweating. It felt like someone turned the oven on, wanting to make them tired and weak.

"What is it now Hank?"

"I think we should stop, Caffrey doesn't look so good and come to think of it neither do you."

"Let me take a look ." Michael back tracks to take a look at Neal..

Caffrey is pent up on the wall, barely able to keep his eyes open.

" You're gonna' be okay Caffrey, lets sit for ten minutes, then we should be ready to go".

Hank shakes his head. "Absolutely not, we have to rest for a moment. He can't go any further"

He tells Neal to slowly come down. It's more of a slide the way his legs collapse underneath him. He closes his eyes for a moment.

Hank places his fingers on Neal's wrist. Then he takes out the miniature flashlight, shining the light in each one of his fading eyes.

He places his hands on his face, to feel his overly dry skin. Both he and Michael were sweaty. Neal should've been too.

He starts to look in his bag.

"Hank what are you looking for?"

"Something anything. The book bag, does it have anything in it to help us."

Micheal places the bag down, and Hank goes through it.

"A hah."

He turns back to Neal.

"Caffrey, It's me Hank I need you to drink this water".

"Peter but I'm so tired..". He frantically shakes his head no, while Hank places the water bottle to his lips.

"Peter at least I'll go out with a bang. Neal Caffrey the greatest con artist there ever was."

His arms shoot up and around making the bottle fall the the ground.

"Hank thats our only ration of water."

He picks the bottle up.

"A little help here then, he's disoriented ."

Michael comes over pinning Caffreys arms at his side.

This gives Hank enough room to carefully pour the water in without spilling a drop. Once Caffrey gets the familiar sensation of the water being poured down his throat, he starts to gulp.

Hank and michael back up giving him some much needed space.

After he settles he lies on his back, passing out.

"Neal!" Micheal yells.

Hank hushes him. "Let him get some rest."

"He should be ready to go now Hank."

" Where did you get your medical license from? The man needs rest, and I say we form a plan while we wait."

Of course Michael had his field medicine but he couldn't tell them that without leading them on.

" What plan do you have exactly? Chechik's men are out there, all with weapons. What exactly do you plan on doing to stop them? We're being hunted Hank, We have got to stay on our toes until we find a secure area."

"I don't know too much of what's going on, and I'm not going to pretend I do, Chechik brought us all here for a reason. I guessing it had to do with me keeping you in one piece so let me do my job, so we can get out of here, and I say we rest".

Michael knew he couldn't do this alone, even if the two guys were annoying he'd be bringing them along. They seemed like good guys, and also very useful.

"Fine."

"Now, I'm going to check on Neal and then me and you can try to come up with a plan."

"Micheal?"

"Micheal?"

He turns slowly to see Michael on the ground faced down.

"Michael? Can you hear me? I'm going to turn you over on three. One, two, three."

He turns him over on his back, to relieve some of the pressure from his facial region.

He repeats the same process with Michael as he did with Neal. Everything seemed to be fine with the burned spy. If Hank had to guess he passed from sheer exhaustion. Not to mention the pills he had taken earlier.

He sat in between the two unconscious men, hoping their recovery wasn't too far out. Last one standing the concierge doctor. Hank knew he didn't have much time. He sat in the stairwell, head frantically turning knowing the enemy could come from any ang le.