tanaquific (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tanaquific) wrote2009-07-07 11:45 am
tanaquific) wrote2009-07-07 11:45 am
Entry tags:
Fic: Jericho - No Good Deed - Teen - Part 1 of 2
Title: No Good Deed Part 1 of 2 (Read No Good Deed Part 2 of 2 here)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tanaquific
Fandom: Jericho
Rating: Teen
Words: 13150
Warnings: Dark themes, references to physical and sexual violence
Summary: Heather thinks she's put her time in New Bern behind her. But it seems Phil Constantino can't forgive or forget.
Disclaimer: These stories are based on the Junction Entertainment/Fixed Mark Productions/CBS Paramount Television series Jericho. They were written for entertainment only; the author does not profit from them nor was any infringement of copyright intended.
Author's Note: This story is part of Awesome!Jakeverse, the shared post-season 2 verse being written by Scribbler (scribblesinink) and Tanaqui (tanaquific). With thanks to scribblesinink, sgafan and elena_tiriel for the beta.
oOo
Heather's eyes fluttered open, her senses reaching out in the darkness for whatever had woken her.
The room was no longer lit by the street-lamp two houses down—they couldn't spare the electricity since Hoffman cut power into town—and she could make out nothing beyond the lighter patch of the window. Then a floorboard creaked, and she realized she could hear someone breathing raggedly over the blood pumping in her own ears. She froze. Someone's in the room with me!
Another floorboard complained as whoever it was put their weight on it. The sound came from closer to the bed, and she smelled a man's sweat and something of the outdoors. Panic flooded through her, rendering her immobile: what should she do? What could she do?
Another creak from the floorboards, and then a work-roughened hand clamped across her mouth. She instinctively reacted, trying to fight her hands from under the sheets, but her assailant knelt next to her, his weight holding down the bedclothes, and she thrashed helplessly.
A voice was saying, "Don't make a noise. Heather. Please. Don't...." and she realized she recognized it, and she fought even harder, because it was: Russell. He's here to collect the bounty. He's going to kill me!
"Heather? Heather?" Russell was getting more insistent, and she wondered why he was even bothering to talk to her and hadn't just slit her throat already. Unless he had orders to take her back to Constantino's ranch.
She bucked even harder, but it was useless. He was too strong....
"Heather? It's okay." He was still talking to her, but her mind couldn't make sense of what he was saying. All she could do was try and fight, and fail, and know she was going to die. "Heather, I'm not here to hurt you. Please just be quiet, okay?" He was leaning over her, his face close to hers, and the panic in his voice and what he was saying finally began to sink in. She stared up at him, wide-eyed, suddenly too weak to fight him any more.
His grip slackened a little as she quieted underneath him. "I'm not here to hurt you," he repeated in a whisper. He took his hand away from her mouth and she gasped for air. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
He sat back, letting her finally get her arms free. She pushed herself up and scooted back up the bed away from him, clutching the neck of her pajamas. "Then why are you here?" she hissed, her voice shaking.
"I need your help." He scrubbed a hand across his face, and she could hear the weariness in his voice. "Things are bad in New Bern, Heather. Constantino's back to his old tricks. Anyone who crosses him, or stands up to him. Heck, if you just look at him the wrong way. If he knew I was here...."
Scrabbling for the candle on the nightstand, Heather lit it. The unsteady yellow glow was enough to show her how ragged Russell looked. She wasn't sure she could entirely forgive him for scaring her witless, but she guessed he wasn't thinking too straight right now. Even the mention of Constantino's name was enough to send a chill down her own spine.
She set the candle down and turned back to him. "What can I do?"
He took a deep breath, clearly trying to steady himself. "My wife and kids are stashed in a barn just inside the line of the New Bern patrols." He swallowed. "I need your help to get them out. Jericho's help. I think Constantino's starting to have doubts about me, and you know what he'd do to them...." His voice cracked.
Heather's mind drifted back to her time back in New Bern. Russell's wife had been kind: inviting her to dinner, making sure she had some of the essentials she'd needed after it became apparent her stay in New Bern would last more than a few days. And she'd enjoyed spending time with his children; after it became impossible to keep the Jericho schools open over the winter, she hadn't seen much of her pupils, and she'd missed being around them..
She felt like she owed Russell and his family something. Reaching out a hand, she touched his arm gently. "I'll do what I can. But after all that's happened—." She was thinking about how Russell had come for Goetz; how he'd been caught by Beck, and given up Stanley so easily.... Part of the blame for what Beck did to Jericho and Jake lay on his shoulders. She bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Russell, but I'm not sure anyone in Jericho is going to care. Not enough to risk trying to get someone out."
He nodded. "I know. But I have information about what Constantino's up to; stuff he's planning to do to make trouble for Jericho and for Beck. It's all going down in the next couple of days. Help me get my family out, and I'll tell Jericho everything."
He was looking directly at her, and she couldn't detect any guile in his expression. "Okay." She licked her lips. "I'll take you to see Eric. He's the sheriff now. Umm." She blushed. "Would you mind waiting in the other room while I get dressed?"
oOo
Ten minutes later, Heather was leading Russell to the side entrance of Bailey's, the one that led to the apartment upstairs. Eric answered the door, gun in one hand, flashlight in the other.
"Heather?" Eric lowered the flashlight; when her eyes recovered from being blinded, she saw that Mary stood behind him on the stairs with a shotgun. Heather couldn't help but wonder if she was being foolish—naive, to use Edward's word—in not keeping a gun at home, but she'd never felt comfortable handling them. She'd rather they were in the hands of people who knew what they were doing. People like Eric, and Jake....
She pushed the thought aside and stepped sideways, so Eric could see Russell standing a few paces away. "I brought someone to see you."
Eric's eyes narrowed. Before Heather could say another word, he had both flashlight and gun trained on the other man. "What the—? What's he doing here?"
Heather automatically reached to put her hand on the gun and force it down but stopped short, afraid she might accidentally make Eric shoot Russell instead. "He's here to help." She glanced back at Russell and saw he'd raised his hands and was blinking into the light.
"Help?" Eric's voice rose. "We've seen the kind of help New Bern wants to give us."
Russell took a pace forwards. "And you'll see a heck of a lot more of it if you don't put that gun down and listen to me."
Eric kept the gun leveled at Russell. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Constantino's planning an attack on Jericho." Russell half lowered his hands. "Now, you can listen to me and find out about it tonight, or you can shoot me and find out about it after Constantino's done his worst. Assuming you're still alive."
Heather saw the uncertainty in Eric's eyes as he tried to decide if Russell was telling the truth. "Eric, please—." His gaze flicked to her and she caught and held it. "He's not here on Constantino's orders. He's—trust me, he's not. Please, hear him out."
Eric looked back at Russell, his gaze hardening for a moment, and then he took a deep breath and lowered the gun. "Okay. But this had better be good."
oOo
A short while later, the four of them were settled in one of the booths in the main bar, Eric listening to Russell repeat what he'd already told Heather. Heather noticed that, while Eric rested his gun on the table, he didn't let go of it.
When Russell was done, Eric gave him a skeptical look. "So, we get your family out, and you tell us all about this mystery plan Constantino has to cause chaos in Jericho?"
Russell shrugged. "If I tell you the plan first, what's to say you won't just throw me in jail and leave my family to get caught by Constantino?"
Eric gave him a hard stare, his fingers tightening on the pistol's grip. "The fact that I'm Jericho's sheriff and not New Bern's?" He relaxed and shook his head. "Anyway, it's not my call. I'll need to talk to Gray and the others in the morning."
Russell's hand shot forward and he pinned Eric's wrist to the table. "I can't wait that long." A pained expression crossed his face. "My family can't wait that long. You need to go get them now."
Eric shook Russell's hand off. "I still need to talk to the others." He paused and Heather saw his expression soften. Maybe the fear on Russell's face and in his voice when he spoke about his family had finally convinced him. "Okay. I get it. I guess we need to go bang on a few doors and wake some more people up."
Russell sat back, letting out the breath he'd been holding. "Thank you."
"Yeah, well," Eric scratched his chin and looked away, "don't thank me until you've heard what they have to say." He sighed. "Most of them are pretty close by, but someone'll need to get Jake from the ranch."
"I can do that," Heather volunteered. "I can take Charlotte. Shouldn't take more than half an hour or so to fetch him."
Eric nodded. "Okay. Mary, you run along to The Pines and get Gray. Chavez and Davies too, if they'll come. I'll take Russell and swing by Jimmy's and Bill's, have them round up some of the Rangers. And I guess I should get on the horn at City Hall and invite Beck to the party, too. He'll want to hear this."
oOo
The rattle of Charlotte's engine was loud in the quiet night as Heather made her way north on Route 6 towards the Green ranch. She wasn't surprised when Jake answered the door almost immediately at her knock: he must have heard her coming from a mile away. She found herself on the wrong end of his Beretta, but he quickly pulled it up when he saw who it was.
"Heather. What are you doing here?" He stepped back, opening the door wider to let her in.
"Eric sent me for you." As she followed him into the house, she noted absently that he apparently hadn't had time to do more than grab the gun: he was dressed in nothing more than boxer shorts, his feet bare and his hair tousled. "Russell, from New Bern, turned up at my house—."
He'd found a flashlight and turned it on, standing it on end on the table so it cast a glow over the center of the room. As he swung back towards her, the harsh light emphasized his scars, white against his lightly tanned skin.
"Are you okay?" He took a step closer, reaching out a hand. She dragged her gaze up to his face and waved him off.
"I'm fine. Russell came to tell us that New Bern," she shook her head and corrected herself, "that Constantino is planning an attack on Jericho. And to ask for our help getting his family out. Eric's getting everyone together at Bailey's to decide what to do."
Jake let out a harsh sigh of frustration and turned his head away in annoyance. "Constantino! I might have known." He turned back to Heather, and this time he did step closer and rest his hand on her arm. "You really okay?"
She tipped her head back up to meet his gaze, feeling the heat from his skin, and breathing in his musky scent. She noticed he no longer wore the dog-tag he'd had on when she'd walked in on him finishing up showering all those months ago. She blushed at the memory of babbling like a baboon, of what an idiot she'd been in those first few weeks she'd known him. She gently disengaged herself from his grip and took a step back. "I'm fine." She shrugged. "Russell gave me a bit of a scare, is all."
A cold breeze snuck its way in through the open door, chilling her. In the dim pre-dawn light, she saw Jake shiver.
"We should get back to town," she reminded him.
"Yeah. I—." He realized he was still holding the gun and put it down on the table. "Sorry if I scared you as well. I, uh, I'll get dressed."
When he came back, he was wearing a T-shirt, jeans and boots. He picked up the gun, checked the magazine absently, and shoved the gun into the waistband at the back of his jeans, before scooping up a set of car keys.
"Umm, I came in Charlotte." Heather gestured outside.
Despite the dim light, she could see his grin. "No offense, but the Roadrunner's a lot more reliable. I'd hate to break down somewhere between here and town."
oOo
Chavez sipped a cup of coffee as he, Mack and Gray waited for the rest of the group to gather. While Mary's coffee wasn't quite as good as the beans he'd brought to Jericho—almost gone, he'd have to see if he could get that kid, Dale, to smuggle in some more—it wasn't bad. He'd drunk a lot worse in joints like this while he waited for bad news.
Mary had been able to give them only the sketchiest details of why Russell was in town, but had filled in the little background she knew about him. Not that she was a gossip; far from it. But she ran a bar, and Chavez knew she was damn good at it. The two of them had spent a few entertaining evenings in the first weeks after he'd arrived in town with her trying to wheedle a little personal information out of him, and him doing his best to charm her while stonewalling her inquiries. She'd learned from somewhere—Jake or Heather, he guessed—that he liked a good cup of coffee, and now she came by for a second pass with the coffee pot.
She was interrupted in pouring his refill by the clatter of the front door heralding the return of Eric, with Beck and Bill in tow, and a fourth man who must be this Russell. Chavez spared a glance for Beck—did the man ever look anything but his usual unruffled self?—and then concentrated on taking his measure of the fugitive from New Bern.
He saw a man who looked much like any of the men in Jericho who worked the salt mines, although Chavez didn't think the scars on Russell's face, revealed as he took off the cap he'd been wearing, had come from one too many bar brawls. He also seemed reluctant to meet anyone's eye, even Gray and Mary as he greeted them, and he thrummed with nervous energy. Chavez wondered if it was concern for his family, or something else.
Jimmy hurried in soon afterwards, clutching a half dozen rolled-up maps. Then the door rattled again, this time admitting Jake and Heather. Jake acknowledged his brother and Gray with a quick nod, and Beck with a longer and colder stare. Chavez noticed Heather kept close to Jake as they crossed to where the group had gathered, and that Jake ushered her onto a stool and made sure Mary brought her coffee. Could just be common courtesy or could be—heck, Chavez didn't know: he'd been watching them for more than a month, and he still couldn't figure out what Jake thought he was playing at where Heather Lisinski was concerned.
Eric cleared his throat and Chavez turned his attention to the younger of the Green brothers while Eric began to introduce Russell and explain his presence.
Chavez had been a little surprised on his return to Jericho to discover that Gray had appointed Eric as sheriff. Not that he'd had much time to get to know Eric during his brief weeks masquerading as Parker, but he'd seemed all hat and no cattle: a man living in his father's shadow in more ways than one. How much that had been grief, and how much of all that had happened afterwards had changed him, Chavez didn't know. He did know that since he'd been appointed sheriff, Eric had apparently done a good job getting the Rangers back in place, getting them organized, and keeping Jericho as safe as could be expected in the face of a surrounding hostile force.
Eric now waved Russell forward to say his piece, and Chavez turned his attention back to the reason they were all there. Russell held his cap in his hands as he spoke, turning it and turning it, almost like he was praying a rosary.
"Most of you know what Constantino's capable of." Russell looked around at them, his gaze lingering on Heather. Her face was tense and Chavez saw her hands were clasped tightly in her lap. She gave Russell a slight nod, and he seemed to take it as encouragement to carry on speaking. "I'm not proud of letting him get away with some of the things he did. Of not standing up to him. Of even helping him sometimes. But I had my family to think of. Mostly I was just trying to do the best I could for them. I guess I still am."
Again he looked around at them. "I'm not going to lie. I'm not here because I want to help Jericho. I'm here because I want to keep my family safe. And they're not safe any more. Since Constantino took charge again, things are even worse than they were before. There's things he's doing...." He laughed bitterly. "Trust me, I'm not a good enough liar I can pretend I'm okay with them any more. Constantino never really trusted me anyway, but now...." Chavez saw him swallow.. "I need to get my family out."
"And if we help you, you'll tell us about this trouble Constantino's planning for Jericho." Gray's skeptical tone matched Chavez's own mood.
Russell nodded. "It's Independence Day in a couple of days. Constantino reckons you'll all be celebrating it." His tone turned bitter and he grimaced. "New Bern won't be. We have something called America Day, now we're in the Allied States. In April."
Gray snorted. "The day Tomarchio renamed the country. On Stanley Richmond's front porch."
Russell nodded. "Anyway, Constantino's looking to give you the worst Fourth of July ever, and Hoffman's letting him do it. Seems he's tired of sitting on his ass waiting for you to surrender while his bosses in Cheyenne yell at him. I don't know all the details, but I know enough to tell you how you can spoil Constantino's party. But you have to get my family out first. I've got them hidden in a barn just inside New Bern's patrol lines, but the longer they're there, the more chance of them getting discovered."
Chavez saw Jake and Eric exchange a look. Without consulting Gray—which Chavez had learned in the last month was pretty much standard operating procedure around here—Eric said, "Jimmy, why don't you get the maps and have Russell show you where his family is? Then we can make some plans."
"Sure thing." Jimmy nodded and led Russell over to the pool table, where the maps he'd brought in had been stacked. Gray, Bill and Mack followed, but Eric indicated with a tilt of his head that the rest of them should step away. He stopped when he reached the other side of the bar.
"How can we know he's telling the truth?" He kept his voice low, darting a glance at where Russell was holding down a corner of a map and pointing something out on it while Jimmy frowned. "For all we know, this could be a trap to lure some of us to New Bern and get us killed.
Jake nodded. "The thought had crossed my mind."
Chavez had caught an inquiring glance from Mack when he'd looked over at the pool table, but he shook his head: you keep an eye on them over there, and I'll look after this end. He leaned back against the bar and crossed his arms. "How well do you know this man?"
"Russell?" Jake shrugged. "He's been a good friend to us in the past. He's loyal to New Bern, but I know he hasn't been happy with what Constantino's been up to for months. And he did try to stop things escalating into an all-out conflict when Constantino was preparing for war."
"I don't think it's a trap." When the four men and Mary, who'd followed them round on the other side of the bar, turned to look at her, Heather smiled nervously. "He got into my bedroom, remember? If he'd wanted to kill me, wanted to kill any of us, he could have done it easily enough." She gave a nervous laugh that was more like a hiccup. "Actually, I thought he had come to kill me."
Jake stiffened. "Why—?"
Heather held his gaze for a long moment, biting her lip as if debating whether to answer. At last she said quietly, "Constantino put a bounty on me."
"What?" Jake's exclamation made even Russell and Jimmy, on the far side of the bar, look up from the map for a moment. Chavez saw Jake swallow before he said in a more normal voice, "Why would he do that?"
Heather shrugged. "He found out I was acting as Edward's liaison. That I was the one providing the information that was helping cripple the resistance in New Bern. Russell told me about the bounty the night of the med center siege, when he came for Goetz." She looked over at Beck. "He asked me to stop helping you. I told him that whatever you were doing to stop Constantino, I wanted to be a part of it."
Beck inclined his head slightly. "Thank you."
Heather shook her head. "I wasn't—." She stopped and looked around at them and took a deep breath. "You don't know the half of what Constantino was up to. The things he did." She shuddered. "The things he's still doing."
"The executions?" Beck spoke softly, but his manner wasn't in the least gentle.
"What executions?" Jake swung round and glared at Beck.
Beck nodded at Heather. "That man from New Bern, the shooter you stopped on Main Street. Heather told me he carried out a number of executions on Constantino's orders." He pressed his lips together for a moment. "We found graves...."
Jake looked back at Heather, one eyebrow raised. She met his gaze and said flatly, "They were the lucky ones."
Chavez nodded to himself. He'd seen enough in other countries of what men with power and no conscience could do to know that might well be the truth. Never expected to run across it in small-town America—but then he'd never expected to be dealing with a coup d'état on home soil, either.
From their expressions, he knew Jake and Beck also had some idea what Heather was implying: both looked a little sickened. Eric and Mary looked more confused. Before either of them could ask Heather to elaborate, he jumped in to the conversation. "So... we're going to trust Russell... for now?"
Jake exchanged glances with Eric, and then nodded. "For now."
oOo
Jake led the group back over to the pool table. "So where're we at?"
"Uh." Jimmy gave him a nervous grin. "Russell's family's here." He pointed to a spot about four miles from the center of New Bern. "We thought we could take the back roads along here—" He traced a finger along the fine lines that marked the dirt tracks criss-crossing the farmland. "—and go on foot from here."
Jake ran his gaze across the map, remembering trips as a teenager with "packages" for Jonah, when avoiding state troopers and the local highway patrol had been the name of the game. If that had been all they had to contend with, Jimmy's route would have been fine. But these days....
He glanced up at Beck. "Hoffman runs regular helicopter sweeps for several miles back from his perimeter, right?"
Beck nodded.
"Then we'll have to stay off the roads most of the way." He rubbed the back of his neck as he pondered their options. "We'd be better going on horseback. Less likely to get stuck; less likely Hoffman's patrols will spot us; and we won't be any slower." It was his turn to point at the map. "Once we're past Hoffman's lines, we can follow the creek here, and then cut through here. There's some rough ground that'll give us cover most of the way."
He looked up at Eric, seeking his brother's approval.
Eric scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Hoffman won't expect anyone to be making the trip in daylight. We can move slowly during the day. Save the horses. Lay up until nightfall and then do the last couple miles on foot."
Jake nodded. "There's an old sawmill here where we can hide out. Jonah used to—" He checked himself. "It's a good place to wait for dark and leave the horses."
"How are you going to get behind Hoffman's lines?"
Beck's quiet question drew Jake's attention from the map. He glared at the major, who was standing with his arms folded, regarding him with an expression Jake could only classify as smug. "We'll manage," he said curtly. "Chavez, Mack and I got past near the whole damn AS Army on our way back here." He deliberately turned his back on Beck as he prepared to speak to Eric again.
"Talking of which—." Chavez pushed away from where he'd been leaning with his elbows resting against the bar. "I'd like to come along on this little expedition. You might need someone who's used to... eliminating the opposition without being noticed." He gave Jake a grin that lacked any humor.
"You can ride?" Jake quirked an eyebrow.
Chavez shrugged. "I can get by."
"OK. You're in." Jake looked over at Eric. "Russell needs to go, too. I'd suggest no more than four—."
"It's be a lot easier to get past Hoffman's patrols if they weren't there." Beck had taken a step forward and was resting his hands on the edge of the pool table.
Jake swung back to look at him, eyes narrowed. Beck obviously had some clever scheme up his sleeve. Ever since he'd stopped working for Cheyenne, he'd acted like Jericho couldn't do without him. Well, this was one time...
"What do you mean?" Eric beat Jake to a reply.
Beck shifted his attention past Jake for a moment, to Eric, before looking back at Jake. With a slight, despairing shake of his head, he looked down at the map. "Hoffman has one of his patrols making a sweep from here to here, and another covering this sector." He indicated two arcs on the map. "If my men engage them when they're at their furthest apart, your rescue party could slip through the middle. Any other troops Hoffman has behind his front line would probably be drawn away as well." He looked back up at Jake, one eyebrow raised.
Jake ground his teeth, reluctant to admit that Beck's suggestion was a good one. If Hoffman's patrols were kept busy, it would make things so much easier. Even so, he wanted to turn him down, to let him know that they could manage on their own. He glanced around to see if the others would fall in line, and met Heather's gaze. She looked at him unhappily, silently reminding him of his promise to her to try and work with Beck.
Biting down on his annoyance, he turned back to the major and dipped his head. "That would help. Thanks."
Beck shifted his attention back to Eric. "If you have the horses brought out to Camp Delaware...."
Eric nodded. "I'll radio Randall and have him bring some up from the checkpoint on 122 and the lookout post on Cherry Valley Road." He rubbed his chin. "We should keep the party small. Russell, Chavez... Hank Jackson. He knows the country out that way and he's pretty handy on a horse. Me...."
Jake had turned back to studying the map, confirming in his mind the route along which he'd lead the rescue party, while Eric went on talking. Now he snapped his head up. "You? No. You can't leave town. You're the sheriff." He waved at the map. "I should be the one to go."
Eric shook his head. "I need you here to prepare for whatever Constantino's going to throw at us. And in case we don't make it back."
"Isn't that your job?" Jake squared up to his brother, crossing his arms and glaring at him.
Eric shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and smiled wryly. "I wasn't the one who led them after dad died. The town needs you here, Jake."
"You're the one in charge of the Rangers now—."
"And you're the one who stopped me doing this three months ago. Now it's time." He took a step closer to Jake. "It's my right to go."
Jake shook his head in disgust. "Right be damned. You could get yourself killed out there."
"And you couldn't?"
"Boys?" Mary's quiet question was lost in Jake telling Eric that wasn't the point and Eric telling Jake he needed to grow up. "Boys!" That got their attention. They both turned to her as she held out a hand with two straws poking out of it.
Jake raised an eyebrow and then gave a short bark of laughter. "It's as good a way as any." He looked back at Eric, who was rolling his eyes. "Short straw goes?"
Eric puffed out his cheeks, and then nodded. "You pick first."
Jake reached out and pulled one of the straws from Mary's hand. He turned his head away in disgust as a full-length straw emerged. Mary opened her hand to show the shorter one left behind.
He looked back at Eric and saw his brother swallow nervously. He almost overruled him—straws be damned—but stopped himself. He'd be just as nervous if he'd picked the short straw: this wasn't some Boy Scout hike. And Eric could handle himself, while the town didn't need Jake acting like he didn't trust its sheriff to get the job done, just because the sheriff was also his little brother.
Even so, as Eric prepared to leave with Russell, Chavez and Beck to make the arrangements for the rescue party, Jake pulled him to one side for a moment. "Take care, okay?"
Eric gave him a wry smile. "Always. You too. If we don't make it back...."
Jake shook his head. "You will. But we'll be ready for whatever Constantino tries to throw at us."
As he watched Eric and Beck walk out of Bailey's together, Jake allowed himself a small grin at the thought that Beck was being forced to aid and abet much the same party that he'd stopped heading to New Bern nearly three months ago.
Once Eric and the others had left, he got Jimmy to unroll a map of town, and those remaining in the bar settled down to working out how to get everybody into shelters or basements if Constantino used mortars again, where to station fire marshalls, and how they should increase the patrols around the perimeter.
After a while, he noticed Heather, standing next to him, yawning. "Hey." He touched her arm. "You should go home and get some sleep."
"I'm okay." She stifled another yawn with the back of her hand.
"No, you're not. You've been up most of the night. You had a bad scare." He glanced around at the rest of them. "I don't know about you guys, but I could do with some fresh air." He turned back to Heather. "I'll walk you home."
"That's—." She started to object, but he gave her a stern look; she shut her mouth and nodded reluctantly.
They didn't speak until they were halfway down Main Street, passing the alley that led to the back of the pharmacy. He was remembering how the same trip had been interrupted all those months ago by finding that man—what was his name? Victor?—with the radiation burns. So many deaths since then, and maybe more to come.....
"Do you really think Constantino will try to shell us?" Heather's question drew him from his thoughts.
He shrugged. "Maybe. Not going to be much of a Fourth of July party if Main Street's wrecked."
"What was it like last time?" He caught her glancing at him, but she looked away before he could meet her gaze.
"Being shelled?" His blood still ran cold at the memory of seeing his mom lying on the street, of crouching over her as the second mortar whistled in. "Scary."
They turned the corner into her street. Peering at her again out the corner of his eye, he saw she was biting her lip.
When they reached her house, she stopped and turned to face him."I'm sorry...." She lifted her eyes and met his gaze. "I'm sorry I didn't manage to get away and warn you...."
He shook his head. "It wouldn't have made any difference. By the time you found out, it was too late anyway. I'm just glad," he swallowed, "just glad you did manage to get out of there. When Eric told me you were dead...." It still hurt to think about it, even when she was standing there in front of him, very much alive.
A blush crept up her cheeks—he realized she hadn't had time to put on the carefully applied make up he'd noticed her wearing more since she got back from New Bern—and she gave a nervous little chuckle. She turned her gaze away, letting it fall on the empty drive. "Oh." Again, a nervous laugh escaped her. "Charlotte...?"
"I'll run you back out to the ranch later to pick her up." He reached out and gave her arm a brief squeeze. "Now, go get some rest."
(Read No Good Deed Part 2 of 2 here)
Author:
tanaquificFandom: Jericho
Rating: Teen
Words: 13150
Warnings: Dark themes, references to physical and sexual violence
Summary: Heather thinks she's put her time in New Bern behind her. But it seems Phil Constantino can't forgive or forget.
Disclaimer: These stories are based on the Junction Entertainment/Fixed Mark Productions/CBS Paramount Television series Jericho. They were written for entertainment only; the author does not profit from them nor was any infringement of copyright intended.
Author's Note: This story is part of Awesome!Jakeverse, the shared post-season 2 verse being written by Scribbler (
scribblesinink) and Tanaqui (tanaquific). With thanks to scribblesinink, sgafan and elena_tiriel for the beta.Heather's eyes fluttered open, her senses reaching out in the darkness for whatever had woken her.
The room was no longer lit by the street-lamp two houses down—they couldn't spare the electricity since Hoffman cut power into town—and she could make out nothing beyond the lighter patch of the window. Then a floorboard creaked, and she realized she could hear someone breathing raggedly over the blood pumping in her own ears. She froze. Someone's in the room with me!
Another floorboard complained as whoever it was put their weight on it. The sound came from closer to the bed, and she smelled a man's sweat and something of the outdoors. Panic flooded through her, rendering her immobile: what should she do? What could she do?
Another creak from the floorboards, and then a work-roughened hand clamped across her mouth. She instinctively reacted, trying to fight her hands from under the sheets, but her assailant knelt next to her, his weight holding down the bedclothes, and she thrashed helplessly.
A voice was saying, "Don't make a noise. Heather. Please. Don't...." and she realized she recognized it, and she fought even harder, because it was: Russell. He's here to collect the bounty. He's going to kill me!
"Heather? Heather?" Russell was getting more insistent, and she wondered why he was even bothering to talk to her and hadn't just slit her throat already. Unless he had orders to take her back to Constantino's ranch.
She bucked even harder, but it was useless. He was too strong....
"Heather? It's okay." He was still talking to her, but her mind couldn't make sense of what he was saying. All she could do was try and fight, and fail, and know she was going to die. "Heather, I'm not here to hurt you. Please just be quiet, okay?" He was leaning over her, his face close to hers, and the panic in his voice and what he was saying finally began to sink in. She stared up at him, wide-eyed, suddenly too weak to fight him any more.
His grip slackened a little as she quieted underneath him. "I'm not here to hurt you," he repeated in a whisper. He took his hand away from her mouth and she gasped for air. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
He sat back, letting her finally get her arms free. She pushed herself up and scooted back up the bed away from him, clutching the neck of her pajamas. "Then why are you here?" she hissed, her voice shaking.
"I need your help." He scrubbed a hand across his face, and she could hear the weariness in his voice. "Things are bad in New Bern, Heather. Constantino's back to his old tricks. Anyone who crosses him, or stands up to him. Heck, if you just look at him the wrong way. If he knew I was here...."
Scrabbling for the candle on the nightstand, Heather lit it. The unsteady yellow glow was enough to show her how ragged Russell looked. She wasn't sure she could entirely forgive him for scaring her witless, but she guessed he wasn't thinking too straight right now. Even the mention of Constantino's name was enough to send a chill down her own spine.
She set the candle down and turned back to him. "What can I do?"
He took a deep breath, clearly trying to steady himself. "My wife and kids are stashed in a barn just inside the line of the New Bern patrols." He swallowed. "I need your help to get them out. Jericho's help. I think Constantino's starting to have doubts about me, and you know what he'd do to them...." His voice cracked.
Heather's mind drifted back to her time back in New Bern. Russell's wife had been kind: inviting her to dinner, making sure she had some of the essentials she'd needed after it became apparent her stay in New Bern would last more than a few days. And she'd enjoyed spending time with his children; after it became impossible to keep the Jericho schools open over the winter, she hadn't seen much of her pupils, and she'd missed being around them..
She felt like she owed Russell and his family something. Reaching out a hand, she touched his arm gently. "I'll do what I can. But after all that's happened—." She was thinking about how Russell had come for Goetz; how he'd been caught by Beck, and given up Stanley so easily.... Part of the blame for what Beck did to Jericho and Jake lay on his shoulders. She bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Russell, but I'm not sure anyone in Jericho is going to care. Not enough to risk trying to get someone out."
He nodded. "I know. But I have information about what Constantino's up to; stuff he's planning to do to make trouble for Jericho and for Beck. It's all going down in the next couple of days. Help me get my family out, and I'll tell Jericho everything."
He was looking directly at her, and she couldn't detect any guile in his expression. "Okay." She licked her lips. "I'll take you to see Eric. He's the sheriff now. Umm." She blushed. "Would you mind waiting in the other room while I get dressed?"
Ten minutes later, Heather was leading Russell to the side entrance of Bailey's, the one that led to the apartment upstairs. Eric answered the door, gun in one hand, flashlight in the other.
"Heather?" Eric lowered the flashlight; when her eyes recovered from being blinded, she saw that Mary stood behind him on the stairs with a shotgun. Heather couldn't help but wonder if she was being foolish—naive, to use Edward's word—in not keeping a gun at home, but she'd never felt comfortable handling them. She'd rather they were in the hands of people who knew what they were doing. People like Eric, and Jake....
She pushed the thought aside and stepped sideways, so Eric could see Russell standing a few paces away. "I brought someone to see you."
Eric's eyes narrowed. Before Heather could say another word, he had both flashlight and gun trained on the other man. "What the—? What's he doing here?"
Heather automatically reached to put her hand on the gun and force it down but stopped short, afraid she might accidentally make Eric shoot Russell instead. "He's here to help." She glanced back at Russell and saw he'd raised his hands and was blinking into the light.
"Help?" Eric's voice rose. "We've seen the kind of help New Bern wants to give us."
Russell took a pace forwards. "And you'll see a heck of a lot more of it if you don't put that gun down and listen to me."
Eric kept the gun leveled at Russell. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Constantino's planning an attack on Jericho." Russell half lowered his hands. "Now, you can listen to me and find out about it tonight, or you can shoot me and find out about it after Constantino's done his worst. Assuming you're still alive."
Heather saw the uncertainty in Eric's eyes as he tried to decide if Russell was telling the truth. "Eric, please—." His gaze flicked to her and she caught and held it. "He's not here on Constantino's orders. He's—trust me, he's not. Please, hear him out."
Eric looked back at Russell, his gaze hardening for a moment, and then he took a deep breath and lowered the gun. "Okay. But this had better be good."
A short while later, the four of them were settled in one of the booths in the main bar, Eric listening to Russell repeat what he'd already told Heather. Heather noticed that, while Eric rested his gun on the table, he didn't let go of it.
When Russell was done, Eric gave him a skeptical look. "So, we get your family out, and you tell us all about this mystery plan Constantino has to cause chaos in Jericho?"
Russell shrugged. "If I tell you the plan first, what's to say you won't just throw me in jail and leave my family to get caught by Constantino?"
Eric gave him a hard stare, his fingers tightening on the pistol's grip. "The fact that I'm Jericho's sheriff and not New Bern's?" He relaxed and shook his head. "Anyway, it's not my call. I'll need to talk to Gray and the others in the morning."
Russell's hand shot forward and he pinned Eric's wrist to the table. "I can't wait that long." A pained expression crossed his face. "My family can't wait that long. You need to go get them now."
Eric shook Russell's hand off. "I still need to talk to the others." He paused and Heather saw his expression soften. Maybe the fear on Russell's face and in his voice when he spoke about his family had finally convinced him. "Okay. I get it. I guess we need to go bang on a few doors and wake some more people up."
Russell sat back, letting out the breath he'd been holding. "Thank you."
"Yeah, well," Eric scratched his chin and looked away, "don't thank me until you've heard what they have to say." He sighed. "Most of them are pretty close by, but someone'll need to get Jake from the ranch."
"I can do that," Heather volunteered. "I can take Charlotte. Shouldn't take more than half an hour or so to fetch him."
Eric nodded. "Okay. Mary, you run along to The Pines and get Gray. Chavez and Davies too, if they'll come. I'll take Russell and swing by Jimmy's and Bill's, have them round up some of the Rangers. And I guess I should get on the horn at City Hall and invite Beck to the party, too. He'll want to hear this."
The rattle of Charlotte's engine was loud in the quiet night as Heather made her way north on Route 6 towards the Green ranch. She wasn't surprised when Jake answered the door almost immediately at her knock: he must have heard her coming from a mile away. She found herself on the wrong end of his Beretta, but he quickly pulled it up when he saw who it was.
"Heather. What are you doing here?" He stepped back, opening the door wider to let her in.
"Eric sent me for you." As she followed him into the house, she noted absently that he apparently hadn't had time to do more than grab the gun: he was dressed in nothing more than boxer shorts, his feet bare and his hair tousled. "Russell, from New Bern, turned up at my house—."
He'd found a flashlight and turned it on, standing it on end on the table so it cast a glow over the center of the room. As he swung back towards her, the harsh light emphasized his scars, white against his lightly tanned skin.
"Are you okay?" He took a step closer, reaching out a hand. She dragged her gaze up to his face and waved him off.
"I'm fine. Russell came to tell us that New Bern," she shook her head and corrected herself, "that Constantino is planning an attack on Jericho. And to ask for our help getting his family out. Eric's getting everyone together at Bailey's to decide what to do."
Jake let out a harsh sigh of frustration and turned his head away in annoyance. "Constantino! I might have known." He turned back to Heather, and this time he did step closer and rest his hand on her arm. "You really okay?"
She tipped her head back up to meet his gaze, feeling the heat from his skin, and breathing in his musky scent. She noticed he no longer wore the dog-tag he'd had on when she'd walked in on him finishing up showering all those months ago. She blushed at the memory of babbling like a baboon, of what an idiot she'd been in those first few weeks she'd known him. She gently disengaged herself from his grip and took a step back. "I'm fine." She shrugged. "Russell gave me a bit of a scare, is all."
A cold breeze snuck its way in through the open door, chilling her. In the dim pre-dawn light, she saw Jake shiver.
"We should get back to town," she reminded him.
"Yeah. I—." He realized he was still holding the gun and put it down on the table. "Sorry if I scared you as well. I, uh, I'll get dressed."
When he came back, he was wearing a T-shirt, jeans and boots. He picked up the gun, checked the magazine absently, and shoved the gun into the waistband at the back of his jeans, before scooping up a set of car keys.
"Umm, I came in Charlotte." Heather gestured outside.
Despite the dim light, she could see his grin. "No offense, but the Roadrunner's a lot more reliable. I'd hate to break down somewhere between here and town."
Chavez sipped a cup of coffee as he, Mack and Gray waited for the rest of the group to gather. While Mary's coffee wasn't quite as good as the beans he'd brought to Jericho—almost gone, he'd have to see if he could get that kid, Dale, to smuggle in some more—it wasn't bad. He'd drunk a lot worse in joints like this while he waited for bad news.
Mary had been able to give them only the sketchiest details of why Russell was in town, but had filled in the little background she knew about him. Not that she was a gossip; far from it. But she ran a bar, and Chavez knew she was damn good at it. The two of them had spent a few entertaining evenings in the first weeks after he'd arrived in town with her trying to wheedle a little personal information out of him, and him doing his best to charm her while stonewalling her inquiries. She'd learned from somewhere—Jake or Heather, he guessed—that he liked a good cup of coffee, and now she came by for a second pass with the coffee pot.
She was interrupted in pouring his refill by the clatter of the front door heralding the return of Eric, with Beck and Bill in tow, and a fourth man who must be this Russell. Chavez spared a glance for Beck—did the man ever look anything but his usual unruffled self?—and then concentrated on taking his measure of the fugitive from New Bern.
He saw a man who looked much like any of the men in Jericho who worked the salt mines, although Chavez didn't think the scars on Russell's face, revealed as he took off the cap he'd been wearing, had come from one too many bar brawls. He also seemed reluctant to meet anyone's eye, even Gray and Mary as he greeted them, and he thrummed with nervous energy. Chavez wondered if it was concern for his family, or something else.
Jimmy hurried in soon afterwards, clutching a half dozen rolled-up maps. Then the door rattled again, this time admitting Jake and Heather. Jake acknowledged his brother and Gray with a quick nod, and Beck with a longer and colder stare. Chavez noticed Heather kept close to Jake as they crossed to where the group had gathered, and that Jake ushered her onto a stool and made sure Mary brought her coffee. Could just be common courtesy or could be—heck, Chavez didn't know: he'd been watching them for more than a month, and he still couldn't figure out what Jake thought he was playing at where Heather Lisinski was concerned.
Eric cleared his throat and Chavez turned his attention to the younger of the Green brothers while Eric began to introduce Russell and explain his presence.
Chavez had been a little surprised on his return to Jericho to discover that Gray had appointed Eric as sheriff. Not that he'd had much time to get to know Eric during his brief weeks masquerading as Parker, but he'd seemed all hat and no cattle: a man living in his father's shadow in more ways than one. How much that had been grief, and how much of all that had happened afterwards had changed him, Chavez didn't know. He did know that since he'd been appointed sheriff, Eric had apparently done a good job getting the Rangers back in place, getting them organized, and keeping Jericho as safe as could be expected in the face of a surrounding hostile force.
Eric now waved Russell forward to say his piece, and Chavez turned his attention back to the reason they were all there. Russell held his cap in his hands as he spoke, turning it and turning it, almost like he was praying a rosary.
"Most of you know what Constantino's capable of." Russell looked around at them, his gaze lingering on Heather. Her face was tense and Chavez saw her hands were clasped tightly in her lap. She gave Russell a slight nod, and he seemed to take it as encouragement to carry on speaking. "I'm not proud of letting him get away with some of the things he did. Of not standing up to him. Of even helping him sometimes. But I had my family to think of. Mostly I was just trying to do the best I could for them. I guess I still am."
Again he looked around at them. "I'm not going to lie. I'm not here because I want to help Jericho. I'm here because I want to keep my family safe. And they're not safe any more. Since Constantino took charge again, things are even worse than they were before. There's things he's doing...." He laughed bitterly. "Trust me, I'm not a good enough liar I can pretend I'm okay with them any more. Constantino never really trusted me anyway, but now...." Chavez saw him swallow.. "I need to get my family out."
"And if we help you, you'll tell us about this trouble Constantino's planning for Jericho." Gray's skeptical tone matched Chavez's own mood.
Russell nodded. "It's Independence Day in a couple of days. Constantino reckons you'll all be celebrating it." His tone turned bitter and he grimaced. "New Bern won't be. We have something called America Day, now we're in the Allied States. In April."
Gray snorted. "The day Tomarchio renamed the country. On Stanley Richmond's front porch."
Russell nodded. "Anyway, Constantino's looking to give you the worst Fourth of July ever, and Hoffman's letting him do it. Seems he's tired of sitting on his ass waiting for you to surrender while his bosses in Cheyenne yell at him. I don't know all the details, but I know enough to tell you how you can spoil Constantino's party. But you have to get my family out first. I've got them hidden in a barn just inside New Bern's patrol lines, but the longer they're there, the more chance of them getting discovered."
Chavez saw Jake and Eric exchange a look. Without consulting Gray—which Chavez had learned in the last month was pretty much standard operating procedure around here—Eric said, "Jimmy, why don't you get the maps and have Russell show you where his family is? Then we can make some plans."
"Sure thing." Jimmy nodded and led Russell over to the pool table, where the maps he'd brought in had been stacked. Gray, Bill and Mack followed, but Eric indicated with a tilt of his head that the rest of them should step away. He stopped when he reached the other side of the bar.
"How can we know he's telling the truth?" He kept his voice low, darting a glance at where Russell was holding down a corner of a map and pointing something out on it while Jimmy frowned. "For all we know, this could be a trap to lure some of us to New Bern and get us killed.
Jake nodded. "The thought had crossed my mind."
Chavez had caught an inquiring glance from Mack when he'd looked over at the pool table, but he shook his head: you keep an eye on them over there, and I'll look after this end. He leaned back against the bar and crossed his arms. "How well do you know this man?"
"Russell?" Jake shrugged. "He's been a good friend to us in the past. He's loyal to New Bern, but I know he hasn't been happy with what Constantino's been up to for months. And he did try to stop things escalating into an all-out conflict when Constantino was preparing for war."
"I don't think it's a trap." When the four men and Mary, who'd followed them round on the other side of the bar, turned to look at her, Heather smiled nervously. "He got into my bedroom, remember? If he'd wanted to kill me, wanted to kill any of us, he could have done it easily enough." She gave a nervous laugh that was more like a hiccup. "Actually, I thought he had come to kill me."
Jake stiffened. "Why—?"
Heather held his gaze for a long moment, biting her lip as if debating whether to answer. At last she said quietly, "Constantino put a bounty on me."
"What?" Jake's exclamation made even Russell and Jimmy, on the far side of the bar, look up from the map for a moment. Chavez saw Jake swallow before he said in a more normal voice, "Why would he do that?"
Heather shrugged. "He found out I was acting as Edward's liaison. That I was the one providing the information that was helping cripple the resistance in New Bern. Russell told me about the bounty the night of the med center siege, when he came for Goetz." She looked over at Beck. "He asked me to stop helping you. I told him that whatever you were doing to stop Constantino, I wanted to be a part of it."
Beck inclined his head slightly. "Thank you."
Heather shook her head. "I wasn't—." She stopped and looked around at them and took a deep breath. "You don't know the half of what Constantino was up to. The things he did." She shuddered. "The things he's still doing."
"The executions?" Beck spoke softly, but his manner wasn't in the least gentle.
"What executions?" Jake swung round and glared at Beck.
Beck nodded at Heather. "That man from New Bern, the shooter you stopped on Main Street. Heather told me he carried out a number of executions on Constantino's orders." He pressed his lips together for a moment. "We found graves...."
Jake looked back at Heather, one eyebrow raised. She met his gaze and said flatly, "They were the lucky ones."
Chavez nodded to himself. He'd seen enough in other countries of what men with power and no conscience could do to know that might well be the truth. Never expected to run across it in small-town America—but then he'd never expected to be dealing with a coup d'état on home soil, either.
From their expressions, he knew Jake and Beck also had some idea what Heather was implying: both looked a little sickened. Eric and Mary looked more confused. Before either of them could ask Heather to elaborate, he jumped in to the conversation. "So... we're going to trust Russell... for now?"
Jake exchanged glances with Eric, and then nodded. "For now."
Jake led the group back over to the pool table. "So where're we at?"
"Uh." Jimmy gave him a nervous grin. "Russell's family's here." He pointed to a spot about four miles from the center of New Bern. "We thought we could take the back roads along here—" He traced a finger along the fine lines that marked the dirt tracks criss-crossing the farmland. "—and go on foot from here."
Jake ran his gaze across the map, remembering trips as a teenager with "packages" for Jonah, when avoiding state troopers and the local highway patrol had been the name of the game. If that had been all they had to contend with, Jimmy's route would have been fine. But these days....
He glanced up at Beck. "Hoffman runs regular helicopter sweeps for several miles back from his perimeter, right?"
Beck nodded.
"Then we'll have to stay off the roads most of the way." He rubbed the back of his neck as he pondered their options. "We'd be better going on horseback. Less likely to get stuck; less likely Hoffman's patrols will spot us; and we won't be any slower." It was his turn to point at the map. "Once we're past Hoffman's lines, we can follow the creek here, and then cut through here. There's some rough ground that'll give us cover most of the way."
He looked up at Eric, seeking his brother's approval.
Eric scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Hoffman won't expect anyone to be making the trip in daylight. We can move slowly during the day. Save the horses. Lay up until nightfall and then do the last couple miles on foot."
Jake nodded. "There's an old sawmill here where we can hide out. Jonah used to—" He checked himself. "It's a good place to wait for dark and leave the horses."
"How are you going to get behind Hoffman's lines?"
Beck's quiet question drew Jake's attention from the map. He glared at the major, who was standing with his arms folded, regarding him with an expression Jake could only classify as smug. "We'll manage," he said curtly. "Chavez, Mack and I got past near the whole damn AS Army on our way back here." He deliberately turned his back on Beck as he prepared to speak to Eric again.
"Talking of which—." Chavez pushed away from where he'd been leaning with his elbows resting against the bar. "I'd like to come along on this little expedition. You might need someone who's used to... eliminating the opposition without being noticed." He gave Jake a grin that lacked any humor.
"You can ride?" Jake quirked an eyebrow.
Chavez shrugged. "I can get by."
"OK. You're in." Jake looked over at Eric. "Russell needs to go, too. I'd suggest no more than four—."
"It's be a lot easier to get past Hoffman's patrols if they weren't there." Beck had taken a step forward and was resting his hands on the edge of the pool table.
Jake swung back to look at him, eyes narrowed. Beck obviously had some clever scheme up his sleeve. Ever since he'd stopped working for Cheyenne, he'd acted like Jericho couldn't do without him. Well, this was one time...
"What do you mean?" Eric beat Jake to a reply.
Beck shifted his attention past Jake for a moment, to Eric, before looking back at Jake. With a slight, despairing shake of his head, he looked down at the map. "Hoffman has one of his patrols making a sweep from here to here, and another covering this sector." He indicated two arcs on the map. "If my men engage them when they're at their furthest apart, your rescue party could slip through the middle. Any other troops Hoffman has behind his front line would probably be drawn away as well." He looked back up at Jake, one eyebrow raised.
Jake ground his teeth, reluctant to admit that Beck's suggestion was a good one. If Hoffman's patrols were kept busy, it would make things so much easier. Even so, he wanted to turn him down, to let him know that they could manage on their own. He glanced around to see if the others would fall in line, and met Heather's gaze. She looked at him unhappily, silently reminding him of his promise to her to try and work with Beck.
Biting down on his annoyance, he turned back to the major and dipped his head. "That would help. Thanks."
Beck shifted his attention back to Eric. "If you have the horses brought out to Camp Delaware...."
Eric nodded. "I'll radio Randall and have him bring some up from the checkpoint on 122 and the lookout post on Cherry Valley Road." He rubbed his chin. "We should keep the party small. Russell, Chavez... Hank Jackson. He knows the country out that way and he's pretty handy on a horse. Me...."
Jake had turned back to studying the map, confirming in his mind the route along which he'd lead the rescue party, while Eric went on talking. Now he snapped his head up. "You? No. You can't leave town. You're the sheriff." He waved at the map. "I should be the one to go."
Eric shook his head. "I need you here to prepare for whatever Constantino's going to throw at us. And in case we don't make it back."
"Isn't that your job?" Jake squared up to his brother, crossing his arms and glaring at him.
Eric shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and smiled wryly. "I wasn't the one who led them after dad died. The town needs you here, Jake."
"You're the one in charge of the Rangers now—."
"And you're the one who stopped me doing this three months ago. Now it's time." He took a step closer to Jake. "It's my right to go."
Jake shook his head in disgust. "Right be damned. You could get yourself killed out there."
"And you couldn't?"
"Boys?" Mary's quiet question was lost in Jake telling Eric that wasn't the point and Eric telling Jake he needed to grow up. "Boys!" That got their attention. They both turned to her as she held out a hand with two straws poking out of it.
Jake raised an eyebrow and then gave a short bark of laughter. "It's as good a way as any." He looked back at Eric, who was rolling his eyes. "Short straw goes?"
Eric puffed out his cheeks, and then nodded. "You pick first."
Jake reached out and pulled one of the straws from Mary's hand. He turned his head away in disgust as a full-length straw emerged. Mary opened her hand to show the shorter one left behind.
He looked back at Eric and saw his brother swallow nervously. He almost overruled him—straws be damned—but stopped himself. He'd be just as nervous if he'd picked the short straw: this wasn't some Boy Scout hike. And Eric could handle himself, while the town didn't need Jake acting like he didn't trust its sheriff to get the job done, just because the sheriff was also his little brother.
Even so, as Eric prepared to leave with Russell, Chavez and Beck to make the arrangements for the rescue party, Jake pulled him to one side for a moment. "Take care, okay?"
Eric gave him a wry smile. "Always. You too. If we don't make it back...."
Jake shook his head. "You will. But we'll be ready for whatever Constantino tries to throw at us."
As he watched Eric and Beck walk out of Bailey's together, Jake allowed himself a small grin at the thought that Beck was being forced to aid and abet much the same party that he'd stopped heading to New Bern nearly three months ago.
Once Eric and the others had left, he got Jimmy to unroll a map of town, and those remaining in the bar settled down to working out how to get everybody into shelters or basements if Constantino used mortars again, where to station fire marshalls, and how they should increase the patrols around the perimeter.
After a while, he noticed Heather, standing next to him, yawning. "Hey." He touched her arm. "You should go home and get some sleep."
"I'm okay." She stifled another yawn with the back of her hand.
"No, you're not. You've been up most of the night. You had a bad scare." He glanced around at the rest of them. "I don't know about you guys, but I could do with some fresh air." He turned back to Heather. "I'll walk you home."
"That's—." She started to object, but he gave her a stern look; she shut her mouth and nodded reluctantly.
They didn't speak until they were halfway down Main Street, passing the alley that led to the back of the pharmacy. He was remembering how the same trip had been interrupted all those months ago by finding that man—what was his name? Victor?—with the radiation burns. So many deaths since then, and maybe more to come.....
"Do you really think Constantino will try to shell us?" Heather's question drew him from his thoughts.
He shrugged. "Maybe. Not going to be much of a Fourth of July party if Main Street's wrecked."
"What was it like last time?" He caught her glancing at him, but she looked away before he could meet her gaze.
"Being shelled?" His blood still ran cold at the memory of seeing his mom lying on the street, of crouching over her as the second mortar whistled in. "Scary."
They turned the corner into her street. Peering at her again out the corner of his eye, he saw she was biting her lip.
When they reached her house, she stopped and turned to face him."I'm sorry...." She lifted her eyes and met his gaze. "I'm sorry I didn't manage to get away and warn you...."
He shook his head. "It wouldn't have made any difference. By the time you found out, it was too late anyway. I'm just glad," he swallowed, "just glad you did manage to get out of there. When Eric told me you were dead...." It still hurt to think about it, even when she was standing there in front of him, very much alive.
A blush crept up her cheeks—he realized she hadn't had time to put on the carefully applied make up he'd noticed her wearing more since she got back from New Bern—and she gave a nervous little chuckle. She turned her gaze away, letting it fall on the empty drive. "Oh." Again, a nervous laugh escaped her. "Charlotte...?"
"I'll run you back out to the ranch later to pick her up." He reached out and gave her arm a brief squeeze. "Now, go get some rest."
(Read No Good Deed Part 2 of 2 here)