The Masquerade Murderer shoved Bryant down into a mound of hay in the corner inside of a horse's stall and crouched down by the crack in the door, peering out at the entrance to the barn. He began playing with Bryant's gun, pulling the battery pack out and inspecting it. He looked it all over, then replaced it and put the gun down. He reached under his jacket and pulled out a sleek silver gun from a pocket sewn on the inside. Bryant recognized the gun immediately as one in the classification that the ballistics tests had suggested the weapon would be in and he felt his blood run chilled. The murderer leveled the gun, looking through the cross hair at the door. He smiled. "Surprise..." he murmured.
-----
Nick was struggling to keep moving. He'd seen the murderer drag Bryant into the large barn up ahead. His knee shot pain through his body as he walked, but he refused to give up. He knew Bryant was up ahead, counting on him, and he wasn't going to back down and let down a friend in need. He reached the barn staggering and laid a hand tiredly against the closed door of the barn, leaning a moment and trying to catch his breath. He reached down and rubbed his knee cap and took deep breaths, refocusing on his mission.
He pushed the doors opened and stepped inside.... Nick didn't know it, but he was in the cross hair of the Masquerade Murderer's gun. The Masquerade Murderer pulled the trigger, sending the bullet through the air. Nick stepped forward, and as he did, his knee gave out and he fell to the floor... just as the bullet flew past him and through the open door behind him. When he hit the floor, Nick realized he'd heard the gun shot and as his body landed, he held very still, wincing silently instead of shouting out in pain. Nick wanted to chuckle when he realized that having fallen face first had saved his life... so inadvertently, the Masquerade Murderer had saved Nick's life by running him over.
Nick lay still, unsure what to do next, and a bit paralyzed by the pain coursing through his body. His mind spun through various options he did or didn't have and he was just about to look to see what the situation around him was when he heard a latch click and a rusty hinge ease open. He stayed even more still, nearly holding his breath. He heard heavy footsteps treading over the creaky wooden floors, coming closer and closer to him. Very heavy footsteps. They were nearing slowly, tentatively, unsure. Nick could hear his heart slamming in his chest, and prayed that the murderer couldn't hear it, too. It was so loud, that he was certain he could...
The murderer arrived at Nick's side and reached down with the barrel of his gun. Nick could feel the cold steel against his back, nudging him, working it's way up his spine to his neck, where it stayed a moment, tapped him and then withdrew. He became painfully aware of his lack of bullet proof vest, which had saved his life the last time he'd been faced with a gun. He also realized that if the Masquerade Murderer flipped him over in his inspection of him that he would find that Nick wasn't bleeding, and would know Nick had not been hit by the bullet he'd fired. Nick was so scared, he had to tighten every muscle in his entire body to keep from trembling beneath the killer's watchful, examining eyes.
At that moment the barn doors burst opened. The Masquerade Murderer looked up from his examination of Nick in surprise. "What the hell are you doing here?" Every nerve ending in Nick's entire body leaped. He knew that voice, that voice was one of the most frightening voices he'd ever heard in his entire life, third only to the sound of The Goose and The Boss -- There was no doubting it. The Masquerade Murderer was none other than Fat Freddy, the whale of a mob member who had started it all.
"Doesn't matter, we got company," came the new arriver's voice, which Nick recognized as Jason's. Where was AJ? What had gone wrong after Nick left the hotel room? His heart skipped and his stomach lurched, and through it all he had to lay perfectly still so they thought he was dead. It was all too much, he felt as though he may explode.
Fat Freddy abandoned his examination of Nick and leaned towards the opened door of the barn to look out. "Jesus Christ Jason, did'ya bring enough of the Guardia with you?"
"I did what I had to do to get out here," Jason answered. He kicked Nick's side, which Nick was barely able to keep from reacting to as the pain shot into his side now, too. "You took care of his one? Fuckit, Freddy, I wanted to take care of this one... Little bastard punched me in the shnoze." He sounded disappointed.
"I did what you couldn't do," Freddy snapped pointedly.
"I couldda done it," Jason replied.
Freddy wheeled on his heels to glare at Jason, "Like you brought the cops here, you little fuck?" Freddy cussed and spit and turned away from Jason, angry. "Shut the hell up and let me figure out how to get out of here alive without getting caught, will you?"
"Did you keep the Agent alive?" Jason asked.
Nick hadn't even considered that Freddy could've killed Agent Bryant already and he felt his heart slow to nearly a stop at the thought. Especially when Freddy snarled back, "It's none of your damn business who I kill and don't kill."
"I was thinking we could use him as a ransom if you did," Jason explained, "You know, barter with them. Keep'em from shootin' until we get a bit away."
Fat Freddy paused, and finally decided even he couldn't undermine the logic in that idea, and rolled his head towards the horse's stall. "Go get him." Nick inwardly sighed with relief, but had to check his actual breath so that he wouldn't be found out. Jason walked over to the stall, leaving Freddy and Nick in the doorway.
Now was the delicate moment, Nick thought, holding still. Now was his time to come up with something to do that could save the day. If only he'd stopped in at the hotel and got the stuff - if only he'd had the time to, that is. But as it were, he wasn't armed or protected, so taking a risky chance would have to be either very well timed or under the absolute knowledge that the two killers weren't looking or were unarmed. Which he couldn't even tell when that was because he couldn't look to see where they were or what they were doing!
"Hey -- this your gun, Freddy?" shouted Jason from the pen as he tugged Bryant out of it. He held up Bryant's gun.
Freddy shook his head, "No you dumbass, I got my gun right here. It's the Agent's. Leave it there, and get the hell over here will you?" There was a thump as the gun hit the floor in the horse's stall and then the two sets of footfall as Jason pulled Agent Bryant in Nick's direction. Freddy grabbed at Bryant, ripping him from Jason's grasp and shoving his face in Nick's direction. "How d'ya like that, Agent?" sneered Fat Freddy, "I got a second one of you fucks." Bryant's heart stopped when he saw Nick laying there so still, so motionless. A tear fell from Agent Bryant's eye as the guilt of having failed his friends overwhelmed him. Fat Freddy laughed evilly at Agent Bryant, "I'm sorry, does this upset you? Well, that's what you get. You brought down my friends and Boss Romano... it's your turn to watch your friends get shot down one by one, too. Two down, one to go. Unless..." he looked at Jason, "Did you get the other Backstreet Boy yet?"
"He's outside," Jason answered, "With the cops. I did get one of the cops, though. That's how I got away."
"Well," Freddy answered with a sneer, "Let's go negotiate, shall we?" and with that, Nick listened as the barn doors were pushed opened noisily, and Freddy, Agent Bryant and Jason all stepped outside, closing the door behind them. He lay still another couple moments, his heart slamming in his chest, and silence falling over him like a sheet of iron. He waited, making sure nobody else was there, then looked up cautiously.
The barn was empty. He rolled onto his back and struggled up to his feet, biting his lip and staggering towards the horse's stall slowly so that his knee wouldn't give out again. He stumbled just a few inches away, and stretched, reaching for the gun that Jason had dropped onto the ground. He picked it up. It felt heavy, just like it had the very first time Bryant ever showed him how to use the damn thing. He remembered the targets in the gymnasium at the FBI headquarters in New York City and the way Bryant had chided him over being in awe over the gun... "You gonna make love to it or shoot it?" he'd asked. Nick smiled at the memory, then looked up at the doors to the barn.
"I'ma save the day," he whispered, standing back up.
Saving the Day for Blondes 2: The Amazing Story of How Nick Apprehended The Infamous Masquerade Murderer Without ANY Caffeine In His Body! by Pengi
