"Nice to see you too, Dave!" James says with a wry grin.

  "Ah. So, I guess this is the right place?" Cole states, leaning forward in order to see around Detective Mackey. "Where's the cavalry? This it? Just you? One rinky dinky sheriff's deputy? Man, I thought my resources were tight."

  "I'll handle this. Okay, Cole?" James says with an irritated wave of his left hand.

  "Alright. Alright, Cowboy! You are...The man," Cole replies, the rest of his statement lost in a deep mumble.

  James returns his attention to Dave. He looks around is slight confusion, his thoughts mirroring Cole's sentiments.

  "Where is everybody, Dave? Where are the black and whites? Where's the HRT? Is it just you?"

  "And Detective Samuels. But a few minutes ago...I heard two gunshots. From two different weapons. Nothing since then. And I haven't heard from Samuels since he requested I follow him out here. We may be walking into something not real good, Mack."

  "Yeah," Mackey mutters, studying everything around their immediate vicinity. "That blue van? Did you run the plates?"

  "Not yet. Didn't have time," Dave obfuscates. "Between the gunshots and trying to figure out what the hell is going on here."

  "Run 'em! We need to get those plates into the database. In case, they try to run. It'll give the department something to go off of," Mackey says.

  "Alright, Mack. I might have to get a little closer. That'll tip 'em off that we're here."

  "I'm sure they already know," James replies.

  "Oh...Hey, boys!" Cole interjects. "Yeah. It's just me over here. How about you two drive over there together. In that ridiculous cop wagon... and let me go home? I plan on getting laid in the next forty-eight hours. I don't wanna die at some freaking dog food factory. My hope is to die in my own bed...Atop a wonderfully fabulous beauty with gigantic..."

  "Cole?! You're not going...Anywhere!" James hisses out of one side of his mouth. "We need you, Cole. As much as it pains me to admit that. We need a lookout. We need someone to contact the authorities in case me and Dave don't make it out of that factory....Alive."

  Detective Mackey's voice trails off as he considers the very real possibility that he may be killed. What will become of Jamie Junior? And Madison? What will become of his beautiful, sensitive wife?

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  "If something ugly goes down," Mackey continues. "If anyone exits that building who isn't either of us...You go for the cops."

  "Uh-uh. I told you, Cowboy. No cops. I agreed to help you because Rachel asked me to. And I was hoping she might do me a favor for doing her one. But...If I get embroiled in all of this...Cops will be going through all of my stuff. I'm a private man, Mackey. I didn't ask for this."

  "No one ever asks for trouble, Cole!" Dave interrupts. "Trouble usually finds you. What you do about it...That's what matters."

  Cole's mouth clamps shut at Dave's assertions. He watches the deputy with narrowed eyes.

  "Just how many cops do you think will be crawling all over your place if you're found to have fled the scene," Dave continues, his face beet red with fury. "...And both of our bodies are discovered? Think about that...Cole. Whoever the hell you are?"

  "Who I am isn't important, Lardo!" Cole fires back. "But...Okay. I'll keep watch. I'll watch your backs. But you owe me, Mackey. I want you to make sure nobody messes with me...When this is all over with. You promise me."

  "I don't know how much weight such a promise will carry, Cole. I'm still a wanted fugitive. Remember?"

  "Doesn't matter! You find your kid and those murderers...You won't be a fugitive anymore. You make me that damn promise. Both of you."

  "Fine," Dave says, "I'll do my best to make sure nobody hassles you."

  "Yeah. Same," James confirms with a head nod.

  "Okay, then," Cole grunts. "Reach under you seat, Mackey. There's a sawed off shotgun under there. Cartridges are in the pocket behind the seat."

  James arches his brow but does as instructed. Dave taps the windowsill of his truck impatiently, scanning their surroundings for trouble or company. Once Detective Mackey has the shotgun loaded, he peers at Dave with resolve.

  "Let's go get those plates, Dave. Then, we can nab those kidnapping bastards. I want my son."

  -

  -

  Inside the metal building

  Chris and Angela/Gabrielle are sharing a passionate kiss. Tiny James Junior is sandwiched between them as Angela holds him in the crook of one arm. Her other hand cradles Chris' face. Angela issues a deep sigh as the kidnapper partially unbuttons her suit jacket, inserting his hand inside. Neither of them pays heed to the two people kneeling tied up on the floor. They are too deep into their twisted fantasy.

  "Ned wasn't lying, Angela," Chris says. "The plane tickets were in the visor. Just like he said they would be. I'll set up a connecting flight once we reach our initial destination. Once we're there. No one will ever find us. We can take all the money and run. We can live like royalty. Just you and me, Angela."

  "They'll eventually find us, Chris. We can't stay in one place," Angela sighs, adjusting Jamie in her arms.

  Chris squeezes Angela's breast with the hand fumbling inside her clothes. He uses his other arm to draw her closer. The insane murderer kisses her roughly, dropping his lips to her chin and throat.

  "I can take care of whoever they send at us. I think I've proven that to you, Angela. I can take care of you. I can take care of us. We can be a family. Just you...Me...And Jamie."

  "Oh...Chris...Okay," Angela gasps, reclining her head and allowing Chris to kiss her throat.

  Detective Samuels turns his head and peers at Rachel, who is kneeling beside him. The expression on the detective's face says he's close to being sick. Rachel manages a tiny shrug.