+18 - eps 22-27 - A case takes Russell and Brock to the brink of death. It'll be up to Gillian and the team to rescue them before they're killed by a white supremacist militia. And in the aftermath of the Paris attacks, the threat of a bio attack fo...
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Brock insisted on getting up for dinner. After four weeks in the hospital, he intended to take every chance he got to get up and away from his bed, at least for a while. He also insisted on moving himself to the wheelchair without help. He thought he'd spotted a mocking smile on Ben's face when he failed his first attempt. Like he cared. A thousand mocking smiles would always be better than having another man carry him in his arms like a damn child.
When he failed for the third time, he finally followed Ben's instructions. A moment later he sat on the wheelchair and brought his bandaged feet down carefully. His soles were still too sore and sensitive, so he rested the weight on his heels. Not exactly comfortable, but it worked.
At the family room, they found Andrea standing before the TV, arms tightly crossed as she watched a news network. Brock scowled when he saw it was an ongoing police procedure, shot from a helicopter. The "breaking news" red sign covered one of the lower angles of the image. The footer read, "Akron, Ohio – Police and FBI corner armed federal fugitives." He rolled his chair up to Andrea's side. He saw the SWAT team approaching the front lawn of a house, rifles to their faces and... gas masks on? Two men wearing FBI Kevlars led them, Glocks pointing ahead.
Andrea glanced at him. "That's Reg's team," she said.
Brock's scowl had to give room to his widening eyes. What was Gillian doing in Ohio? He paid attention to the voice of a reporter from the site.
"...no moves inside the house as the police and the FBI get ready to breach. Some versions talk about six to eight armed fugitives hiding inside. Only a couple of minutes ago, one of them tried to escape, but he was taken down when he tried to run out the backdoor."
A small square appeared on a bottom corner of the screen, showing the moment the reporter talked about. A man staggered out of the house with a shotgun. Three FBI agents showed up from behind the low hedge around the backyard, assault rifles to their faces. The man tried to raise his shotgun and instead, he took a hand to his neck and crumbled down, face to the grass.
"Questioned about this shocking images, the FBI explained the suspect was hit with tranquilizer darts, to prevent a shooting in this residential neighborhood west of Akron downtown."
Brock's eyes were nailed to the screen, as the three shooters ran to the fallen man. They took away his shotgun, checked his vitals, handcuffed him and dragged him away. Even on the aerial shot, he could tell two of them were women. His heart punched his chest when he recognized the tight ponytail Gillian always wore for procedures. Of course, they were Gillian, Miles and Morris.
The other half of the screen showed the front of the house and SWAT surrounding it. Now Brock recognized the fair head of one of the FBI agents: Schwarz. He scowled deeper. Bellison and Schwarz taking the front while Gillian took the back? Then he recalled the Amber Alert a year ago. Of course, Gillian taking the back only meant she expected it to be more active than the front—you mean more dangerous, Brockner? He sighed.
Andrea turned to him. "Dinner's ready, Dad. Can we keep watching while we eat?"
Brock nodded. The situation was worthy the exception of their golden rule about no TV during meals. So Andrea hurried to serve the food, while Ben turned the TV for them to see from the table. Brock rolled his chair around it. Instead of his usual place—the closest to the kitchen—he parked past it to get the best spot in front of the TV.
Andrea filled their plates as the broadcast showed SWAT breaching the house. The reporter's voice sounded high-pitched anxious as he warned about moves at the backyard again. The screen was split in two once more, just in time for the second camera to capture the image of two men trying to escape the house out the backdoor, one of them stumbling and the other one crawling. Gillian and the other two showed up again and took their rifles to their faces.
"The fugitives ignore the order to stop!" said the reporter, to build up the tension. As he said it, both men crumbled down where they were. "The FBI shot them down!"
Brock found himself holding his breath.
Andrea's phone ringing startled the three of them. She picked up, eyes back on the TV.
"Oh, my! Of course I am! We all are!" she said, excited, and ignored her father's questioning scowl. "All of them? Man! They're so cool!" Before Brock could scold her, Andrea handed him her phone with a smile. "T wants to talk to you, Dad."
Brock accepted the phone with a suspicious look down at it and took it to his ear. "Brockner," he said, one of his best blank scowls on as he looked away from Andrea.
Tanya's voice oozed satisfaction. "We got them, sir. Eight officers, including Kreuz and that son of a bitch who did that to you and Russell."
Brock heard Ben ask Andrea if they knew anything about those fugitives, but he was too busy processing the unexpected relief Tanya's words caused him. "Did you identify all of them?" he asked, wondering why he needed to be sure.
"Yessir. Kreuz, both captains, the lieutenants and the last surviving sergeant. We don't know how many corporals and soldiers are still on the loose, but Reg's sure they don't pose any serious threat without their leaders."
"How did they prevent any active resistance?"
"Gas, sir." Now Tanya was exultant. "Reg can tell you the details. All I know is that they sent a pizza with a sleeping gas hidden in the box, and then darted down those still standing."
Brock was about to make another question when the broadcast from the helicopter changed to a camera on the street, about a hundred yards away from the house. A lot of lights from a lot of cameras showed Gillian approach the police barrier to meet the press with a young black woman wearing a police Kevlar. Behind them, a crowd of police officers, SWAT and her team buzzed in and out of the house, and around the cruisers and ambulances.
"Oh, that's Reg on TV!" said Tanya. "Talk to you later, sir. It's really good to know you're fine and back home."
