Brooke had the drive in her hand and was about to lock the safety deposit box back when she heard a gun shot. Her heart skipped a beat. She heard more shots. What were the chances that they were from Terry and that he'd taken control of the situation? She assumed good, but she couldn't risk it. She threw the drive back into the safety deposit box and locked it. Frantically she searched the room for a place to hide the key. No one would ever suspect that she hid it in the same room as the box. Frankly it was a stupid thing to do, but she didn't have any other option. If she was caught with the key or the drive on her, this life was over for Brooke.

In various places on the wall that surrounded the door, the old and faded wallpaper was beginning to peel and bubble. She picked a spot and dropped the key into the paper. It slid down and landed in a bubble. Perfect. No one could tell it was there at all. She heard feet moving quickly down the hall. There was more than one set. Shit. Brooke didn't waste any time running from the room and towards the back exit. She glanced over her shoulder at the men. Black suits, looked American. Also didn't matter. She shoved out the exit and took off in a dead run down the back alley, her tennis shoes thudding hard against the pavement.

Up ahead, a man came around the corner mere feet from her. She tried to stop but she'd been running so fast that she stopped too close to him for comfort. He could easily have reached out and grabbed her but he didn't. Nor did he even raise a weapon at her. That seemed odd. Maybe he wasn't after her. Either way he had a look in his eye that said he was up to no good. She was backing up slowly as to not step in a pothole and fall, all the while trying to find a weapon or another alley when the man began to smile. She frowned. What the hell was he smiling at? "This has been far too easy," he said, just as she backed into something solid, a person.

Before she could turn around or run or scream or even register that it had happened, a large arm wrapped around her chest keeping her in place while another brought a rag to her face. The man covered her nose and her mouth with it and though she tried to pry his arms away from herself, through her struggle she became weak, tired... Her vision blurred and the last thing she saw was the man she'd seen first walking towards her before she lost consciousness.

When Brooke finally woke, he eyelids were heavy. Sapphire eyes opened slowly and tried to blink away the fog. The air smelled old and musky. Her head was hanging in a position that allowed her to stare at her own lap and blonde hair fell around her face. She groaned and tried to sit up. Her head was pounding but her sight was finally losing it's blur. What happened and where the hell was she? She tried to move but found that her hands were tied behind the chair she was sitting in. What the hell kind of government tied people to chairs? And was she in a warehouse? It seemed more like some sort of bad mafia movie to her. Hell, who knew? She wouldn't be surprised if they were after a bounty like hers too. Tons of people were.

A man stepped into her line of vision as the last of the blur dissipated and she frowned. "Where am I?" she asked, almost surprised at the weakness in her own voice. "It doesn't matter," he said coldly, "where is the drive?" Brooke laughed, it hurt to do. Her whole body ached. She wasn't fully healed from her last day on the run, especially to have topped it off with her playtime with Terry, and now, tied uncomfortably to this chair she felt like she'd been used as a crash test dummy. She tested the ropes by struggling against them, but they were tight. Tight enough that her hands were losing circulation. "Fuck you," she responded.

The man backhanded Brooke with a force that tried to pull her from her chair, but thanks to the lovely ropes, couldn't. She hung her head again, more in anger than anything else. Twice since Terry had walked into her life, well forced his way into it really, had she been backhanded like this. He was supposed to be protecting her, where the hell had he gone? She actually feared the worst for Terry. There were so many gunshots, yet still so many bad men afterwards. Blood trickled down from her lip having reopened the last bust from days earlier.

The man repeated himself. "Where is the drive? Where is the key to your deposit box? Where is your partner?" Brooke finally looked up. Her partner? Was Terry still alive? Had he gotten away? That bastard! He'd left her for dead! She was frowning again. "Play 20 questions with someone else. I'm not telling you anything." Besides, she didn't know where Terry was, unless he was at the safe house. But, he'd left her for dead, and he was smart enough to realize they'd probably ask her his whereabouts and that was the only place she knew. He wouldn't go back there. And lucky for him too. She was pissed that he left her for dead and would gladly tell them where he was, if she knew. The sonofabitch.

The man knelt down in front of Brooke, his face was inches from hers and he was smiling. It was a very angry smile. It looked like he was trying to control his temper but was having a really hard time. It made Brooke laugh again. "If you wanted to kiss me you could have just said so. This seems a little extreme. Do you tie up all your girlfriends to play 20 questions and get them to kiss you?" She was laughing again. She laughed when she was nervous, and she wasn't sure her luck wouldn't hold out this time. She knew she wouldn't see the light of day again and humor was the only thing keeping her from breaking down completely. "You have this vein on your forehead that looks like it's going to explode at any minute..." she was still laughing, all she could do to keep from crying. She was staring at the the vein and picturing some of those cartoons she'd seen... A big explosion that would leave the man standing there with a little white flag waving around looking burnt to a crisp. If she'd only watched more of those when she was a kid.

Without warning he grabbed her face forcing her to stop laughing and look him in the eye. He pulled something from his pocket and she heard a click. It sounded like the opening of a switch blade. "You can't kill me," she said, knowing that if he wanted that drive he really couldn't. He smiled as he brought the blade up to her neck. He caressed the soft flesh with the sharp edge of the blade so gently. Goosebumps ran up her spine and caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand. His voice became eerily soft and quiet. "No. But I can make you wish you were dead." Without a moment of hesitation he brought the knife down into the soft flesh of Brooke's chest, just below her collar bone. A clean slice from her collar to her breast.

It stung and Brook squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of screaming out, or crying. Never. "Now tell me what I need to know," he said bringing the point of the blade to her skin again, "Before I carve my name into your flesh." She could feel the blood running down her chest and soaking her shirt and her heart raced. That didn't help blood flow. She tried to pull her hands free from the ropes again, but only succeeded in making her rope burns worse. "Where is your partner?" he asked her again.

"Terry isn't my partner," she said. But then she realized... "But he's staying in a hotel. Across town. The Royal." It was a lie, but it could buy her time. By this time he'd let go of her face and stood, a satisfied smile on his dark features. "I'm almost sad I didn't get to cut you apart," he said. "But in case you're lying," he paused motioning for someone to come forward, "I had the liberty of having your little brother brought here." A large man came forward and shoved her brother out in front of him. "Jamie!" Brooke yelled. Jamie fell to the floor. He'd been badly beaten and was covered in blood and dirt. The man leaned forward again and jerked her face to his once again. "Now look at me when I'm speaking to you. If you're lying, I'll thoroughly enjoy cutting your little brother apart and making you watch."

((Sorry I wrote so much. Lol my imagination was all over the place. I figured they will have already killed her parents, in their home. He'll kill Jamie in front of her, probably shoot him when they find that Terry isn't where she said... I just didn't write anything else because I figured you're probably done with reading my long a** post. Lol feel free to hop in as a bad guy if you want, I don't want you to feel limited, I just didn't know what else to write! XD))

Terry's fingers were tapping nervously on the driver's wheel - the only sound in the dark car. His eye drifted to the phone screen showing the coordinates Hailey had sent him. It hadn't taken him long to reach it and he had parked a couple of blocks away and was about to infiltrate the warehouse in question...but was now having second thoughts. Was it really a good idea? Brooke had probably told them anything they had asked related to him - he was still a little more than a stranger to her, not to mention one that had tried to execute her not so long ago. She had managed to hide the files, apparently, since she had been kidnapped and not killed. But still...wasn't it better for him to back off and cut his losses? If he left the country immediately, he was sure he'd manage to elude his chasers - and this whole thing would probably die down after a while.

Suddenly the assassin shook his head and stepped out of the car, opening the trunk as he did so. To hell with running away. This was too interesting to pass up...also he had a sort of a moral obligation to the girl. He hadn't killed her and had helped her escape - abandoning her now would imply he was giving her false hopes before. He wasn't the kind of person that would do those. When he made a promise, he delivered. Besides...it had been a while since he had this pleasant of a company. Hailey had located two cars via satellite imaging. With two hostages, that meant six people maximum. No sweat.

"Alright, you got this." the man mumbled as he was strapping a knife to his forearm "In and out, they won't even know what hit them. Six targets, single structure, limited cover, that's what...seventy-five seconds tops" the small grenade belt clicked in place, the assassin sighed and closed the trunk, narrowing his eyes and looking up and ahead. There was a hatch he could use for entry, that much was enough for him "Let's go justify that crazy bounty they put on us..."

There had been guards in front of the building, two of them, but they weren't being careful enough and didn't look where they had to if they wanted to see him entering the warehouse. His advantage, he realized, was exactly the fact everybody was thinking he had split. Ironic yet very convenient in the current situation. The solid feeling of metal under his feet made him move a little away from the hatch, crouching on a supporting beam right above the door. He froze, giving himself a little time to get used to the dark interior and mark his targets. There they were, the other four. One was standing between Brooke and hostage number two, presumably her brother. Two were standing behind the chair she was tied to, the last one - behind the civilian. This way every one of them was covered by the sight radius of at least one of their comrades. Terry had counted on that, however and smiled quietly as he was putting on his goggles and setting them on thermal detection. He just had to move a little closer without being seen...suddenly a phone rang, echoing in the empty warehouse. The guy in the middle - probably the group leader picked up. Deciding he was probably not going to get another distraction, the assassin began creeping up slowly, step by step, on the metal beam which would lead him onle a few feet from their heads.

"Carter. Yes? You checked? And you made sure he's not just using a fake ID, right? Alright. I understand." a brief silence, in which Terry stopped again, looking down and unholstering the silenced gun "You know, girlie...I don't think you take us seriously. There was nobody at that hotel. Is this a joke to you? How about I show you exactly how serious I am?"

Shit.

The shot landed in the head of the brother just as Terry was throwing the grenade a little to the left in order to conceal his location. The white haired man was lucky they hadn't decided to kill Brooke instead but...he wasn't sure she'd share his viewpoint. The grenade landed on the floor with a loud metallic sound and bounced back, exhaling a cloud of incredibly thick smoke. The four men instantly pointed their weapons at the source of the sound - that was the last action they could be seen making by anyone...besides Terry who could see them perfectly. Up on the beam, unseen by anyone it was like picking off flies. Two of the agents died withing the first five seconds, the third got caught by another bullet when he was about to take cover. The last one in the warehouse screamed in anger, hiding behind a beam about thirty feet away. Terry sighed and jumped down on the floor, hanging by his hands for a second first to lower the distance he had to fall. Upon landing he immediately rolled to the side and was rewarded with the reassuring sound of lead bouncing off the floor at the place he was a split second ago. Rising after the roll, the assassin ducked and weaved, getting missed by another two and grazed by a third shot while he was closing in on the enemy. When he was only three meters away he jumped, unsheathing the knife mid-flight, only to burrow it in his chest and knock him down on the ground. Thompson only had time to stand up before he heard the warehouse door open and rushed to the chair where Brooke was tied, knocking it down on the ground and following it down himself as the last two guards opened fire, missing the hitman and Brooke by a hair's breadth. However, they were blind and he was not. A stray bullet catching him in the leg, Terry flinched, managing to only take down one of the two with the three bullets he had left in his clip. His other hand gripped the knife handle tightly...

All that could be heard was the sudden whoosh of metal splitting air and the distincly louder thud when the last body hit the floor, a blade in its forehead. Terry gave himself a mental pat on the back, grinning victoriously for a second before moving to the corpse and pullinhg the weapon out, afterwards limping back to Brooke who was still on the floor. It occured to him he probably looked like some modern day ninja, with his vaguely glowing goggles, black fabric covering his face and light weaponry strapped to differents parts of his body. If the situation had been a bit different, he probably would have played it cool and made some sort of joke in the end. Now was neither the place, nor the time, however.

"We have to leave" said Terry while pulling down his mask and cutting the ropes. He had tried to sound as gentle and soft as possible but it was no good, the adrenaline from the action was still in control of his behaviour, leaving him calm, calculated, precise and reliable...but also devoid of any kind of empathy or normal emotional response. His tone was dry at best. He realised she had lost a loved one not even three minutes ago but Terry knew next to nothing of comforting and calming people. All he could do right now was make sure they survive the day "Can you walk?"

Brooke jerked her face away to see her brother again. Her heart was going to beat right out of her chest, she just knew it. "Jamie!" she yelled again. The man moved away from her for a brief moment to speak with one of his comrades. She pulled on her ropes fiercely. Her wrists burned like fire, but she didn't care. She was going to pull her arms from these ropes and get to her brother even if it ripped all of her skin off. "Jamie!"

Her little brother moved. Slowly he lifted his head to see Brooke. One of his eyes was swollen nearly shut, he had one gash across the opposite cheek and one across his forehead. His top and bottom lip were busted on the same side and blood still dripped from them. They'd been inflicted so recently... Brooke was angry and terrified for her brother all at the same time and tears filled her eyes. His sapphire eyes met hers. "Sister," he spoke so quietly, "I thought... I'd never see you again." His voice revealed pain. He tried moving his arms in a way that would allow him to push himself up, but was appearing to have a very hard, almost impossible time.

Her breath caught and tears finally spilled down Brooke's cheeks. That should be her, not Jamie. Jamie never did anything to these people, he didn't deserve this. "Jamie," she choked, "I'm so sorry, this is all my fault!" By this time Jamie had managed to push himself up on one arm. The other dangled lifelessly. He shook his head. "Mom and dad," he strained to speak, "we... never believed that."

All the while they spoke Brook hadn't realized that the man had answered his phone. She didn't realize what was going on until he spoke of no one being at the hotel. Before she could even open her mouth to try and get out of the situation he raised his gun. In that moment, Brooke felt like her very soul left her body and time had slowed down. She couldn't hear anything but the slow thumping of her own heartbeat and her own slow and shallow breaths. Jamie...

The gunshot sounded so far away, but it vibrated through her entire body making her ears ring. She felt like she was underwater. Noise seemed muffled and she couldn't breathe. Jamie's body fell towards the floor in what felt like minutes upon minutes. He landed with a force that crushed Brooke's heart and her spirit too. She couldn't think straight now, her head was spinning and she felt like she was going to throw up.

She was staring at the ground, wide eyed, no tears, and in shock as the smoke engulfed them. Slowly she looked up, dazed as the smoke reached her. Was the place on fire now? The thick smoke burned her eyes and entered her lungs and she turned her head, trying to get away from it, but it was no use. She coughed, but the sound was muffled by the sound of a gun shot, and then another. What was happening? Brooke couldn't see a thing. Frantically she squinted her burning eyes through the smoke and searched for Jamie. Not that it mattered now.

Unexpectedly Brooke felt something solid hit her and then she was on the ground. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she coughed again. When she finally opened them, a figure stood in the smoke. He was covered with weapons, his face was masked and his eyes glowed. They'd sent some kind of mutant ninja to kill her... Her head spun again as her eyes burned and she was overcome with another coughing spell. Then she heard a familiar voice. As her arms were freed her fingers and hands burned with the sensation of the blood finally flowing back into them.

Terry... He'd come for her? She nodded and before she realized it she was standing. Brooke still felt out of body. She couldn't even tell she'd moved, she just knew she'd done it. She looked in the direction she believed Jamie to be and blinked through the burning fog. Smoke covered his body and the bodies of the others, shielding her from the sights. She took a step towards her brother but Terry grabbed her arm and began leading her quickly away, towards an exit. She followed blindly, unable to see through the thick fog and unaware of his injuries.

"Wait," she finally managed, "wait, Jamie..." she couldn't just leave his body there like that. But she knew she would have too. It wasn't like they could pick him up, put him in the trunk and take him home for a funeral. They couldn't even be here when police showed up, which she was sure was bound to happen. She pictured his face again, the look in his eyes as he was shot in the head. As she pushed through the exit Brooke collapsed onto the ground. How she'd survived this was a miracle, and she didn't deserve it. Warm tears ran down her face and chest, washing over her cuts and mixing with her blood soaked shirt. She brought her arms up to see the rope damage. It was bad, but it was no bullet to the head.

She buried her face in her hands. That should have been her, not Jamie. Brooke hardly ever cried, and when she did she was very quiet about it. But today she was bawling in a way that made her chest and her throat hurt. Though the smoke probably did a number on those things too. They'd been best friends up until Liam came into her life and even then they still loved each other so dearly. She couldn't go on, she didn't want to go on. There wasn't any point, she was sure of it. "The key is in the wall paper," she choked, "That's why you came back for me right? Go get your drive and just leave me," she demanded. She was just going to roll over and die. That's exactly what she wanted to do.

After pulling her up to the ground and leading her to the car as fast as he could, Terry drove silently for a few minutes, still calculating time and possibilities in his head. A phonecall right before the action, it was improbable anybody would find the dead menin less than twenty minutes - and that's all he needed to get that data back from the post office. His still felt the sharp pain from the bullet wound but Terry knew he was lucky - it wasn't bleeding bad. that meant treating it could wait for a while. Seconds of silence extended into minutes until the assassin finally pulled over next to the closed post office. Suddenly he turned towards Brooke but instead of looking concerned or sad for her, he seemed...angry. Her words had rubbed him the wrong way. She wasn't the only person to lose a loved one in such a way. Terry had never been close to his family and hadn't seen them in years partly to protect them and it seemed he had succeeded so far, but...he had next to no close friends now while he used to have a lot more. And none of them had the luck to be saved from their death unlike the girl now and yet she was choosing the cowards' way out? Disappointing...he had thought she was different. Like him. Life was too precious to throw away. As a proffessional in his line of work Terry knew exactly how precious.

"The warehouse wasn't a good place to have such a conversation. This one isn't either but by now there's no choice, I need to know if you're serious. You want me to leave you, huh? Really? You know, I could probably use you in decrypting the data Let me tell you something, girl...if you wanted to quit, you should have done it way earlier. Did you seriously think they wouldn't try to get to you through your family after they've sent so many hitmen after you before? Here's a news flash: this isn't a fucking game. People actually die. Your brother...not to mention we must have made a dozen women widows in the last two days. These men I took out? They probably had families, wives, children, weren't you aware of that? I was, all the way, and I still pulled the trigger. Ten lives ended so you can live. You don't get to quit." Terry almost growled and opened the door, stopping for a second before he stepped out, his back turned to Brooke "See when you die, you stop being able to do anything. Not revenge, not protecting somebody you care about...nothing. I just thought you were a person who could take action, make a change. I guess I was wrong but then again I can't really hold you here against your will since I do want to live. Here's the deal: in exactly one minute there's going to be a small explosion when I breach the building. Thirty seconds later I will return to the car and travel to San Diego, go south somewhere. If you've changed your mind, you'd better be at the driver's seat and the engine better be running. We'll work from there, see how we want to play our cards. If not...might I suggest the railway? I can only help you if you want to live yourself. I don't have the time for any more pep talks and motivational speeches now."

The door slammed behind his back as he walked towards the post office. Had he been too harsh? Probably, but this was the only way he'd let her tag along. It was hard enough to keep them both safe when they were trying to survive. He only wondered why he had tried to change her mind at all. Technically speaking, him getting the drive and her running away was the most profitable scenario for the assassin, so why attempt to convince her to stay? Terry shook his head as he walked on, pulling over the black fabric over his face for the second time tonight. He'd think the entire situation through once he had the time and peace to actually do so. For now he only needed to concentrate on the three to four minutes the police were going to get here after his entry and finishing up before this time limit was reached...

After Terry stuffed her into the car, Brooke turned to look out the window. Over the short drive to the post office her tears subsided. She couldn't get her brother's last moments out of her head. It should have been her. Tears were welling in her eyes again as Terry pulled to a stop at the curb. She expected him to send her inside for the drive, but instead he started reaming her in a way that caught her so off guard, she just sat there speechless staring at him.

When the door slammed, Brooke blinked owlishly after Terry as he disappeared into the post office. So many lives had been ruined today... She'd never thought of it that way. She'd always thought of her own survival and nothing else. She wasn't the only one who'd lost someone she loved today. Brooke frowned. If she gave up now, Jamie's death would have been for nothing. She needed to live and figure out what was on that drive and get out of this mess for Jamie. He would want that.

A look of determination came over her. She was going to take these guys down. Just then there was an explosion. Quickly she maneuvered herself over the center console and into the driver's seat of the car. She quickly adjusted the seat and the mirrors and Terry hopped in. She wasted no time in pressing the accelerator to the floor. The tires smoked and the car took off. Brooke headed towards the edge of town. She should have thanked Terry for making her realize things, more so for not just leaving her behind. Instead, she kept her focus on the road trying to decide whether to max the car out on the highway, or try and take back roads, or both.

She was mulling over her options when the red and blue flashing lights caught her attention in the rear view. "We have company," she said, sapphire eyes narrowed as they checked the mirrors. Two cop cars behind them. Now a third. She pulled the e-break and turned the wheel, taking a sharp left down an alley. The first two cops drove passed, unable to turn in time, but the third was close on their tail. She mowed over boxes and trashcans and burst out of the alley in a cloud of debris. Another sharp turn and she stepped on the gas.

They were on the frontage road to the highway, and up ahead was a roadblock. Three cop cars and spikes. All of the cops were out of their vehicles and pointing guns in their direction. Brooke was frowning and had a wild look in her eye. She stepped on the gas. In that moment the police opened fire. Bullets pinged off of the car and two came through the windshield. The highway was to their left and Brooke veered towards a lot filled with construction.

Now beside the roadblock, the car hit a large pile of packed dirt. Using it like a ramp it sailed up into the sky. Brooke had it pointed at the highway and it wasn't looking like they'd make it. The car revved in mid air and Brooke held her breath. Bullets still pinged off the car. After what seemed like an eternity in slow motion the front tires of the vehicle cleared the highway's wall. The back tires clipped the concrete and it ripped the back bumper from the car. They'd made it.

Brook gassed it, maxing the car out as fast as it would go. Two miles later she exited and pulled onto a side road where she gassed it again. She checked her rear view mirror just as a fleet of cops flew by on the highway. She pulled the car over into a parking lot and parked. A helicopter flew by headed towards the highway. She glanced over to Terry and smiled. How was that for giving up? "We need a new car," she said, looking out into the parking lot.

"Well look who suddenly decided to grow a pair" Terry, rummaging through the glove compartment grinned, stopping for a second "...figuratively speaking."

He was unpacking the box of bandages when Brooke informed him about their chasers. He hadn't expected them to locate them as fast. Regardless, the vehicle Brooke was driving was more than reliable and from the file he had read of her, she apparently knew how to drive rather well. "Oh, I think you drove in the opposite lane a while ago, they must have seen you. Pull over, we'll probably get off with a warning." he said jokingly while tightening the bandage around his thigh. It wasn't going to take care of the actual problem, he had to get the bullet out, but at least it would stop it from bleeding. He almost rolled to the side of his seat when they got on the highway, Terry looked up...and didn't like what he saw.

"You're going towards them, you know" Terry exclaimed, fastening his seatbelt, as if to check whether Brooke was aware of what she was doing. She seemed to be. The man's grin, albeit slightly nervous, had returned to his face "Alright, fair enough, but if I die because of your little stunt, know that I will haunt you for..." The sudden upward change in direction interrupted him and all he could do was look through the passenger window and count the milimeters of concrete, praying they would be enough to reach the tires, in the couple of seconds that seemingly lasted for hours. If they didn't, he doubted even the girl's admittedly impressive driving skills would save them. Fortunately they managed to stay on the road, quickly losing their pursuers. The assassin opened his mouth to say something but ended up closing it without speaking. He probably didn't have to remind her to lay low and switch cars. Those were cops and she had enough experience avoiding them. He could give her some credit. A few minutes later when she stopped the car and smiled at him, he couldn't help but smirk. From total depression and suicidal thoughts to flawless stunts and an assertive attitude in under twenty minutes. That was probably the thing that had impressed him the most. Maybe she'd turn out to be an adrenaline junkie, not unlike him. Regardless of the actual reason, he felt something similiar to pride from her performance. They needed a knew car? Look at her, already calling the shots!

"I've decided to play a little game. I'm going to keep a scoreboard just for you. You do something really nice - I give you a point, you mess up bad - I take one away." Terry grinned and gave her a thumbs up "That small adventure just now - well played. One point. Feel free to rate me, we can make this a proper competition. Alright, let's check out what our new ride's going to be."

The hard part was not finding a suitable car, it was carrying all the things over from Terry's. The sacks of clothes were one thing, but there two other very large ones, full of metal...things by the sound they made. It was from one of them that the assassin retrieved the lockpick he used to open the door of the grey sedane. After placing the sacks on the floor and back seats, he entered, again sitting on the passenger seat.

"I'm sorry...you're going to have to take the wheel for a little while longer. Don't think it's a good idea for me to do it...I'm not in the greatest of conditions" Terry leaned back and smiled again, only this time a bit more vacantly, his eyes about to close. He still had a piece of metal in him, he hadn't really slept much, not to mention all the things that had happened today...he was exhausted and the effect of the adrenaline was wearing off. Plus there was one more thing "I think I've lost quite a bit of blood...listen, check us in in some motel, just travel south and get a room in the first one you see. There's a wallet in the glove compartment with...enough cash in it. One last thing" Terry looked at her with a tired expression "You might need to take me to the room...and treat the wound, watch out that it doesn't bleed again. Tomorrow...I should have a little more energy, I'll take out the bullet and we'll be on our way. Good thing I got a decent medkit in my things...had the feeling I might need it." the young man tilted his head to the side, resting it on the window, his eyes barely open "I'll stay awake for as long as I can...but I seriously need my beauty sleep."

((I'm going to reply, just so that I'm not putting it off any longer. But I've got a serious lack of sleep going on, the weather change has me drained, and I'm not sure I have a whole lot of inspiration left in this state, lol. I do have a feeling it's going to be loonngg. Here it goes...))

Brooke kept an eye out while Terry moved their things from one car to the other. When he slid into the passenger's seat she sighed and shook her head. He really was in bad shape, though he didn't really let on. As he laid his head against the window and dozed off, she groaned. This was going to be a long and stressful car ride, and if Terry started snoring she was going to put him into negative points. Though she was sure he hadn't fallen asleep as much as he'd passed out from exhaustion and lack of sleep.

She put her hands on her hips. Start the car, get to a motel. Easy enough. She'd driven the car North in their pursuit, but her and Terry were headed South. It would be some time before anyone realized they weren't headed North, and that would probably only be if they were spotted. The chances of that happening while driving in a different vehicle were slim, especially since it was still day light. She knew the people after them would assume they would hide out for the day and move at night, and that's exactly what she'd hoped they'd think.

Brooke walked around to the driver's side of the car and pulled her door open. She knelt down onto the ground and reached up under the dashboard below the steering wheel and yanked some wires down. In less than a minute, Brooke had the car hot wired. One of the many perks to having a father who ran a successful car repair shop. She could not only hot wire almost any vehicle, she could repair and build them too. She slid into the driver seat and put the car in drive, pulling out of the parking spot and onto the road.

It had been three hours since Brooke had hot wired the car and headed South. They were in Arizona and halfway to Phoenix. She'd passed very few motels and maybe two small towns in the desert, and although Terry had said to stop at the first one she saw, she wanted to put as much distance between them and Vegas as possible. Not to mention, she wanted to cover as much ground in the daylight hours as possible. She glanced over at Terry. But she should probably tend to those wounds, and her own for that matter. It was nearing five o'clock and Brooke was exhausted, too.

She drove another thirty minutes on highway 93 until they came to a tiny rundown looking motel across the road from a two pump gas station that was equally rundown. She pulled around the side of the motel office so that the car and Terry inside wouldn't be visible. Curious, she rummaged through the clothing bags in the back seat. Bingo. She pulled out a short black wig and pulled it on, stuffing her blonde hair inside. She pulled the visor mirror down. Yikes. She'd forgotten about the rest of her bloodied appearance.

Brooke rummaged around the center console and found some Taco Bell napkins and a half empty bottle of water. She wet a napkin and removed the blood from her face and chest, careful of the painful wounds. That was better, but still not enough to overlook. She pulled her ripped and blood soaked shirt off and tossed it in the floorboard. Quickly she found a sweatshirt from the backseat and pulled it on over the wig. It stung her rope burned arms and laid on the gash on her chest in a very uncomfortable way, but at least the injuries wouldn't draw unwanted attention.

She grabbed a small bag of make-ups slathering on some concealer over her lip and other facial cuts before adding a powder base and some lipstick. She topped her look with a pair of sunglasses, thankful that the sun was setting to give her a reason to wear them without looking suspicious. She looked in the mirror again. Brooke looked completely normal. Just another road tripper stopping in for a nights rest. If anyone looked close enough they would notice the unusual swelling on one cheek and her lip, but for the most part she smiled, pleased at her own handy work.

She grabbed some cash from the glove compartment, hopped out of the car and made her way inside the tiny lobby. The chairs were mismatched and dusty and the plants were plastic and missing parts. The lights flickered and the tiny television on the counter blared a trashy soap opera. In a few short minutes she'd checked into a floor room in the back of the small strip of motels. One guest under a fake name. She could never be too careful.

Key in hand, Brooke made her way back to the car and hopped in, driving them around back and parking out of view from the highway. "Terry?" she asked, "Hey..." she wondered if he was able to walk inside. No response, no movement. "Terry?" she reached over and checked his pulse. What? He was making her worried. She sighed with relief when she could count the beats. Had she actually been relieved? Yes. It would seem Terry had somewhat grown on her. Not to mention, he'd saved her life and he was currently her only means of anything stable that could keep her alive. Not that she needed him, she reminded herself sternly.

She hopped out of the car again and unlocked their motel door. Not wanting to leave anything inside the vehicle, she moved everything inside, including Terry's heavy containers that proved hard work for her. What wasn't hard work for her nowadays? Look at what she'd had to go through just to check in to a motel. She sighed, now standing at the passenger door. After quite the hassle and many curse words, Brooke had managed to help Terry inside, thankful that he came around enough not to be dead weight. She maneuvered him into a chair and closed and locked the door behind them.

Moving to the bathroom, she pulled off the wig and sunglasses along the sweatshirt and washed her hands. She didn't waste any more time finding the first aid kit Terry had spoken of. She popped it open. Decent? This kit had everything she needed in it to tend their wounds, and this she knew for certain. She was no doctor, but her mother had been a nurse, up until last year when she quit her job to stay home and keep an eye on her and her little brother. It seemed they'd both become quite the troublemakers, although Brooke hadn't intentionally.

In any case, Brooke had seen her mother care for family wounds, even illnesses, as well as assist at two separate car wrecks that they had witnessed together, and stitch up minor injuries that her brother and dad had assumed while skateboarding and working under a vehicle. Despite her looks, Brooke was highly intelligent and soaked up information, remembering exactly what to do in each of those situations.

She stood over Terry and sighed again. The pants were going to have to go. Carefully she removed weapon after weapon and holster after holster until only Terry's clothes remained. She carefully undid his pants, not wanting to wake him and have an awkward conversation about why she was shirtless and taking off his clothes... Tossing them aside, she stripped him of his shirt next, leaving the man in his boxers. Her eyes roamed him. One bullet graze in the arm, and one full bullet wound in the leg. Other than that all was perfect. She cleared her throat and shook her head at herself. Had she just thought that?

In no time at all, Brooke had the arm wound cleaned and covered. Now was where things got tricky. Terry had said he would remove the bullet. She could do it, easily. But there was no telling if the thing was pressed against a blood vessel. If that was the case, removing it would cause Terry to bleed out and die. But the longer it was left in there, the higher the risk of infection or other complications. Not to mention, the people they were dealing with were ruthless. What if the bullets had been laced with something? She'd seen too many movies. She sighed. Brooke made her decision.

Thirty minutes later a bloodied bullet lay on the floor of the motel. Blood soaked towels lay in the bathroom floor, and a bullet free Terry lay in the bed, leg cleaned, stitched and covered. Brooke's eyelids were heavy. The sun was nearly set and she needed to shower. She removed the rest of her clothing and stood at the bathroom mirror. The gash across her chest had needed stitches too, but she couldn't bring herself to do it on herself. She'd pulled the wound together with butterfly bandages and hoped for the best.

Twenty minutes later Brooke was showered and in a short silky nightgown. She blinked down at the thing. She'd have preferred cotton pajama pants and a tank top, but she supposed this should have been expected when a man was shopping for your clothes. She flopped down on the bed beside Terry and checked on the stitches. She smiled at a job well done. It wasn't perfect, but well done. Brooke 2, Terry 0. She laid her head on the pillow, and stared up at the ceiling.

Finally able to still herself and lay alone in her own thoughts was bad news. She replayed her brother's death over and over in her mind. A tear slipped from her eye and rolled down onto the pillow. Brooke pictured her parents receiving the news of Jamie's death. She wiped at her eyes and frowned, suddenly angry. Her mood changes would certainly give anyone emotional whiplash, but there wasn't anyone left now to deal with her. Just Terry. Many minutes passed while Brook lay there tossing and turning. She was exhausted, her muscles hurt, her arms still burned when she moved, and every time she took a breath she could feel the gash across her chest open and close. It must have been hours that passed and Brooke fell asleep just as the sun began appearing over the horizon.