Save Me If You Can

Save Me If You Can Chapter 16

SAVE ME IF YOU CAN

Chapter 16

By

Lacadiva

Rating: PG-13. Disclaimer: All rights belong to his royal hipness, Jeff Eastin.

From Chapter 15:

Moz unbuttoned and opened his shirt with trembling fingers to reveal a heavy black vest.

It was fitted with explosives.

"Shoot me," Hauser warned, holding up a small detonator in the palm of his hand, "and we all go together."

~WC~

Words failed Neal, abandoned him, left him astray with nothing more than to shudder wide eyed at the dreadful image of his friend in peril. His mind felt as empty as Thursday appeared to be, now that it was devoid of all evidence that the place had ever been inhabited. The furniture was gone. Neal's bed was no longer there. June had apparently worked quickly to have the place empty out so efficiently.

The vest bomb appeared at first glance to be rudimentary and quite probably easy to disarm. But getting close enough to Mozzie to disable it quickly was the only true obstacle before him. One move, one false step and Hauser would not hesitate to detonate the device, and the last thing Neal would see before dying would be his friend being torn asunder.

"Now, Mr. Caffrey, I need you to lower your weapon, and step off the elevator. Slowly, please."

An odd tingling flushed through Neal, jarring him internally, causing him to almost stagger. He awkwardly complied by lowering his arm and taking an unsure step forward. He heard the elevator door closing behind him and thought to himself that his fate had also just been sealed. He closed his eyes for a second to pray and envision Peter on the way to their rescue. But a dark voice inside his head chided him for his fruitless optimism, destroying his last sense of hope. His careless, uncalculated attempt to save Mozzie had only brought him back to the man who would be their executioner. Neal knew, felt it in his bones that someone was about to die.

He was determined that it would not be Mozzie.

"You know what else to do," Hauser said with an oily smile, motioning with the detonator – a small black burner phone that was keyed to activating the explosive device.

Neal placed the gun on the floor and kicked it to Hauser. The weapon spun and clattered as it slid across the shiny hardwood floor. It bumped Hauser's right wingtip and stopped dead before him.

Hauser crouched down to retrieve the gun, never taking his eyes off of Neal.

"Curious," he said. "You look oddly fit for a man with a two hundred dollar a day heroin habit. It seems I've underestimated you, Caffrey. I expected you to be dead. Preferably from a self-inflicted bullet wound to the head."

"I'm happy to disappoint you," said Neal. He looked in turn to his friend. "You okay, Moz?"

"In a word, no..." Mozzie said quietly, as if afraid the tenor of his voice might be enough to trigger the vest.

Hauser was suddenly and strangely distracted by the gun in his hand. He gave it a curious look from every angle, hefting it in his hands.

"Where did you get this?" he asked Neal.

"From the gun fairy," Neal quipped. "Why?"

"It's funny...I seem to recall once owning a gun like this myself."

"Not unusual," Neal interjected nervously, "considering you sell guns for a living."

"No-no-no-no-no," Hauser almost sang. "Not 'like' this one. This gun."