CHAPTER 9

Thursday 9:12pm

Alex had lost consciousness and Monica had never prayed so diligently in her existence. She had surrendered her part of the blanket to her assignment, trying only to focus on the agent, not even wanting to think about the horrible thing that had been done to them less than an hour ago. If she did that she knew that it would be more than cold threatening to overtake her. The cold would be rivaling with terror.

She had reminded herself over and over again that she was an angel, even as she wondered how long it would take before the effects of the poison would kick in on her system. Even had she been human, she would have had no idea of what to expect, but her angelic status even made that call more difficult. Her human body reacted differently to human medications so how could a poison be any different?

She was trying not to fear what was to come, for both herself and Alex, but it was nearly impossible. She could barely move her fingers anymore and they had turned nearly white from the intensely cold temperatures. Her throat was so sore, she could barely swallow and she had never been so tired. If she had the strength, she was certain she would cry.

The crunching of tires on snow caused her to look up slowly and her heartbeat to quicken ever so slightly. It also caused Alex to wake up, and her defeated eyes moved to the door of the barn. He was back and she wanted to scream with the fear that knowledge inflicted.

Monica held her breath, her cold lungs aching in protest, but no sound came. She was waiting for the door to swing open, but once the engine had died there was silence and this frightened her more than when he had each time entered the barn.

But then the sound of a voice was heard, and it sounded nearly as sweet as the Father calling her Home.

“Monica! Alex!”

“Andrew!” The word was but a hoarse whisper and though she knew Paul would never hear it, she knew with all her heart that Andrew would.

His first sight of her went straight to his heart and he didn’t waste another moment at getting to her side as Paul burst in behind him. The angel knelt down beside of her and took her face into his hands, terrified by the coldness he felt, “Angel..” It was all he was able to say as he took in the whiteness of her skin, the exhaustion in her eyes, the rawness of her wrists and the cropped head of auburn hair. She was shaking so badly it scared him and he struggled to swallow the lump that had risen to his throat.

“Michaels! Get those blankets from the back of the car and I need metal cutters and be quick about it!” Paul’s command was heard through the stark barn as he knelt down in front of his partner. He wished that they were in a place in their relationship where he could wrap his arms around her, but she had no idea of his feelings for her, “We’ll get this bastard, Alex.”

Alex forced back tears, unwilling to shed them in front of him as she managed the smallest of smiles, “You are a sight for sore eyes, Gatlin.”

He chuckled softly, “You’ve never looked better to me, Bennett,” He stated sincerely, his relief in finding them both alive apparent in his eyes, before he turned them to the little angel, who was already wrapped up in Andrew’s now abandoned leather jacket, “You hanging in there for us, honey?”

Monica nodded, unable to speak and a moment later, she felt a warm, heavy blanket engulfing her small form and she nearly cried out at the pain it caused. There was nothing on her body that didn’t hurt, her heart included at what Paul and Andrew still needed to know.

“I was so worried, sweetheart,” Andrew whispered to her. His heart was aching at the tears that immediately filled her eyes and trailed down her face and he wrapped his arms around her as best he could, wanting to cry himself at the absence of the hair he was so accustomed to running his fingers through. “You’re safe now, baby. You’re safe and God was with you the entire time.”

“Andrew…” She knew she had to tell him, but any hopes of that were dashed by the dry cough that racked through her.

“Shh, don’t try to talk right now, angel. Let’s just work on getting you and Alex out of here.”

“Gatlin.”

Paul looked up as St. James tossed him a pair of metal cutters, turning first to the angel.

“No,” Monica managed to say, “Alex…please.”

Paul nodded and set to work on his partner, first releasing the chain that was around her waist. “Thank God we found you both in time, Alex,” he spoke softly to her as he worked, now noticing her bruised face and wanting to pulverize the man who had done this…the man who had taken so much from him, “You’re going to be just fine. We just need to get you both warm and-.”

“Gatlin,” the words were scarcely audible but held enough grief to cause him to look up at her. She managed to shrug off the blanket to expose her arm.

He followed her line of vision to her exposed arm, his eyes widening at the track mark, “Alex, what…”

“Some kind of poison, Paul,” She managed to keep her voice steady, despite what she was really feeling, “He injected both of us about an hour ago…said it would take about four days to kill us. He is the only one with the antidote…”

Paul could hardly fathom the words as he saw Andrew’s head shoot up, having overheard what she had said. “Son of a--” he exploded as he stared into Alex’s frightened eyes, trying to reign in control of his emotions for both her and Monica’s sake, “We’ll find him…we’ll find him in time, Alex.” His heart was racing. The bastard would not take her too!

Andrew starred at Monica in utter shock, watching as her chin trembled at his reaction, but the little nod she gave told him it was true, not that he had any reason to not believe.

“You know I’ll be fine,” Monica whispered tearfully, knowing she was doing a terrible job of disguising what she was really feeling, “You know that.”

Did he? He hated that he was asking himself that question, but the thought of anymore pain coming to her was almost more than he could bear. Jackson had injected them with something lethal. Angel or no, unless God intervened, she was going to suffer. She was already half frozen and the cough indicated illness as it were, but for her to endure this as well was causing him to doubt that there really was a plan.

Agent Michaels ran back into the barn carrying a first aid kit, and Paul stood up, trying to control the rage and panic that were threatening his composure.  “Never mind that,” he said as he grabbed the kit from him.  “Go call the hospital.  Tell ‘em to get a room ready and tell ‘em we need someone from poison control… not that they’ll know anything.”  Michaels turned to run out and Paul shouted after him, “And call the agency!  We need someone from toxicology… we need someone who knows something!”

Alex struggled to reach up to his hand, the movement causing searing pain through her stiff shoulders.  “Paul, no… no hospital.”

“What?”  Paul knelt down again, looking into her face and seeing resignation behind her fear.  “Alex,” he said more calmly, “we need to get you both to the hospital.  They have to be able to do something for you… there must be ways… they can tell what it was…”

Alex shook her head, “Paul, I’m dying, but I’m not dead yet.  I’m not wasting time lying in a bed.”

“You are not going to die, so just shut up about that,” he said, more harshly than he intended.

Her eyes flashed.  “I’m telling you the truth, and I’m still your partner, and I’m not going to be sidelined now!  I at least want the chance to face the bastard who did this!  I just need a few hours sleep in a real bed.  That’s all!”

“Paul…” Andrew’s low voice cut in. Monica had her face buried in his chest and he knew that their arguing was not helping anyone.

The agent closed his eyes momentarily and took a deep breath.  “Your place?” he asked when he opened his eyes and looked at Alex.

She shook her head.  “Too small.  My parent’s.  We can set up a base of operations there.” 

She knew that something terrible was coursing through her bloodstream, but being found had renewed her strength and her stubbornness.  She wasn’t going to go down without a fight, and she wasn’t going to go down without knowing exactly why.  She looked into Paul’s face.  The concern warred with guilt on his face.  They had a lot to talk about and not much time to do it.

"Do you think you can stand up?" Paul asked, not wanted to overstep his bounds with her getting her stubborn streak back.

"I can stand, just help me up," she replied, and she reached for his hands, feeling their warmth against her frozen fingers.

He gently pulled her to her feet, but she was wrong.  Almost as soon as she stood the room seemed to spin and her legs gave out.  The freezing cold and the lack of movement had worked against her body.  She let out a curse as she felt herself falling, but before it was even out of her mouth Paul's strong hands were on her, and he was lifting her in his arms.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, knowing that weakness was something she despised, particularly in herself.

Strangely, Alex didn't even think about that.  She felt him holding her closely, protectively, and for a moment she let herself dwell on how wonderful that felt.  Maybe three days of captivity were responsible, but suddenly she recognized how nice it was to have someone else in control, even if it was just for a moment, and to be able to trust them completely.  She didn't have time for the knowledge to do much more than register, because in the next heartbeat her head was lolling against Paul's shoulder, and her eyes slid closed as she passed out.

"Alex? Alex!"  Paul jostled her, trying to get her to regain consciousness.

Andrew looked up from his place on the ground.  Paul was looking to him for reassurance that she was going to be all right, and he was able to give it, at least for the moment.

"I think it's just the frostbite and the exhaustion, Paul," he said gently.  "Right now we just need to get them someplace warm.  Then we'll deal with the rest."

Monica was staring at him, her eyes shining in the darkness, and filled with worry.  She nodded her agreement.  She didn't even want to think about anything beyond the next few hours.

"He's right, Paul.  She's just been so strong for so long… her body needs to rest now."

The agent looked at her lovingly, amazed, as always, by her ability to think of just about everyone else before herself.  "And so does yours, Monica."

The Irish angel didn't even try to protest when Andrew scooped her up into his arms.  Paul and the angel of death walked to the door and Monica wearily turned her head to glance over her friend's shoulder and back into the barn.  It was such a dark, cold place, and she knew that she would be going there in her dreams for a very long time.

Agents Michaels and St.James were waiting right outside the barn and they rushed ahead to Paul's SUV, opening the back doors and helping agent and angel inside with their fragile cargo.  Michaels hopped into the front seat and slammed the vehicle into reverse, then sped back down the road, with the other agent close behind.

"I heard Agent Bennett mention her parent's house," Michaels said over his shoulder as he looked at them in the rear-view mirror.  "I've already called ahead.  They're getting it ready, and they're sending a doctor."

Paul nodded, but remained silent.  He honestly didn't know what good a doctor would do them, but at least they'd be able to patch up the external evidence of their ordeal.  He gazed down into Alex's still face.  True, he hadn't known her very long, but in that period of time he couldn't ever remember her being still or silent.  It chilled him to see her that way now, and he forced himself to look away.

"How are you doing, Monica?" he asked as he looked into the third row of seats.

"Cold," she answered honestly. 

The beginning stages of frostbite had actually made her numb even to the cold, and now that she was finally warming up she was able to feel the bone-deep chill that had enveloped her.  She was shaking almost continuously, even with the warming blanket over her, and it felt like only Andrew's arms kept her from splintering off into a thousand pieces.

"You'll warm up soon, Monica," Paul said, a touch of sadness in his face as he turned to face forward again.

Yes, she would warm up, but what then?  Four days.  They had four days to find Devin Jackson and pray that he had even bothered to keep the antidote or at least knew what the poison was.  Four days to watch Monica and Alex slowly suffer and fade.  Suddenly four days seemed like an eternity and an instant all at once.

"How are your hands, angel?" Andrew asked quietly as he reached under the blanket and covered them both with one of his.

They still felt like ice, just like the rest of her body.

"A little better," she answered as she took a trembling breath.  "They're starting to hurt… I think that means they're getting better."

He gently squeezed them, and then closed his eyes.  Wherever Devin Jackson was, there was nothing on earth or in Heaven that would keep the angel from finding him.

*****

The ride back to Waverly Street and the Bennett townhouse seemed to last forever.  In fact it was less than two hours, and when they arrived they saw that those two hours had been well spent by the FBI.  The house had FBI issue cars parked in the driveway and on both sides of the street around it.  Every light in the house appeared to be on, and there were agents moving in and out, talking on cell phones, and circling the perimeter.

A light snow had begun to fall once again, and it swirled in the light from the house and the light from the car headlamps.  It reminded Paul of Christmas and ice skating at the farm.  He wanted to take Alex there again.  He wanted to be able to take her anywhere, but he could only carry her into the house and hurry up the stairs to the bedrooms.

Monica had long since passed out, and Andrew found himself praying that it wasn't because of the poison.  He had been so quick to reassure Paul, and yet seeing Monica's closed eyes and pale skin brought fear to his own heart.  He followed Paul inside and up the stairs, settling Monica into the room beside Alex's.  It looked like it had been Rob's room, with sports trophies on the bookshelves and a pennant from Yale hanging over the bed.

"Angel?" he whispered, hoping she would wake up.

"Excuse me, Agent, but I need to get in here," the female voice was demanding but kind, and Andrew turned to face the woman who owned it.

"I'm Dr. Pelletier," she said.  "I promise, I'll take good care of her," she said as she walked over to the desk which was already laden with medical supplies.

"Thank you," Andrew said, surprised by the roughness in his voice.  He swallowed and spoke again.  "I'll be right downstairs."

He left the room and carefully shut the door, then turned to his right and saw Paul closing Alex's door.

"So," Paul said, "I know you've got all the connections… why don't you see what you can do?"  He rolled his eyes upwards, then let his mouth twist into a wry grin.  He already knew it wasn't that easy.

Andrew sighed.  "I wish it worked that way.  Right now, you have just as much power as me… the power to pray."