Nothing To Lose Part 8

 Unable to find their second victim, Jonas and Danny split their focus, and Jonas ends up in a dangerous situation.  

Part 8

Footsteps echoed through the building, bouncing against the vaulted ceilings as the sounds rose from the marble floors. There was only one person sitting in a pew. An older woman, come to pray for her ailing husband. The priest was at his altar, working on a sermon and barely acknowledging the door to the church opening. He looked up, just long enough, that he could see that it was Michael. Father Michael had returned.  

Father John closed his notepad, closed his bible, and gathered his things under his arm. He turned, and with his right hand, made a symbolic cross over his chest before bowing to the large bronze crucifix hanging from the wall behind him. As he walked off the stage, he followed Father Michael. With Father Michael returning, Father John had questions.  

Father Michael was staying at the church. He'd taken one of the two offices as his own. His work had been kept hushed since he arrived a week ago. His timing was odd to Father John. There wasn't a visit by another priest planned until near the holidays. Things like this didn't sit well with the American-born priest. As a member of the clergy, he was perhaps the most paranoid in the Catholic Church.  

Father John stopped at the door to the office. He knocked three times before hearing the clicking sounds from the locked door. When Father Michael opened the door, staring through his glasses at the elder priest, he seemed startled. The two were silent for what felt like an eternity to Father John.  

"I noticed your return. How are things coming along with your work," asked Father John.  

Father Michael wasn't at liberty to discuss why he was visiting Bay City, or what he'd been doing. He was in the middle of briefing Bishop Stevens when Father John knocked. He motioned for the elder priest to come in and pointed to the computer screen. When Father John saw the meeting in progress, he stood behind the desk and apologized for interrupting.  

"Nonsense," said Father Michael. "I was just telling the bishop that I may need to bring you into the loop. You've been here for more than five years, and you have connections to the local community. Even more so, you have connections to local authorities that I may need to use."  

Bishop Stevens told both men that they were sworn to keep the secrecy of Father Michael's work in the area intact. The church was depending on their ability to use the utmost discretion surrounding the matters at hand. As Father John didn't know anything, he was pressed to keep anything secreted from the locals, but he promised that anything that his counterpart, Father Michael, shared with him would remain between them and God.  

"Good," nodded the bishop. "Well then, Father Michael, I leave it to your discretion."  

As the screen went blank, the visiting priest crossed his hands in his lap. He stared at his host, contemplating sharing the truth about his visits to the city and his observations surrounding certain men. Once he admitted why he was there, he knew it was a bell that couldn't be unrung. He motioned for Father John to take a seat.  

As Father Michael pulled a bottle out of his desk, he also grabbed two glasses. He motioned for his host to join him. Initially, Father John declined the offer.  

"Trust me," sighed Father Michael. "You're going to want one after I fill you in on some things. John, if I can call you just John, for a moment, let's pretend that we're not priests. Let's pretend that we're just two men and I'm about to share somethings with you that will forever affect your life. You're going to want more than one."  

Hearing the warning, Father John accepted the offer. As the two sat, taking their first sip, the local priest waited for his guest to begin. He felt a nervous anticipation over what was to come. As he sat there, watching the younger holy man reach into his bag, he took a bigger sip.  

"Now, John, what can you tell me about these two men?"  

Jonas sent Danny back to the station to brief Amanda and to get every vehicle plate within five miles run and the owners contacted. While he'd gone out with the search teams, riding on SRT boat two, they'd been out for hours. It was getting dark and the winds were starting to pick up. The boats were taking a beating, and they'd still not found a trace of the second suspected victim.  

The boat commanders were calling off the search for the rest of the night. There wasn't anything they could do effectively after dark, in the middle of high winds, and with choppy waters making it more dangerous. Jonas argued the point, but he'd been overruled. They promised they'd be back in the water once the storm cleared and daylight hit. By then, Jonas knew the body wouldn't be found.  

Getting in the Suburban, Jonas drove out of the flooded area and onto the main road. The water was getting deep as the levees overflowed. The entire area would be under two feet of water by tomorrow. If the second body turned up, it would likely turn up in someone's backyard, or on a street, or in a ditch, after the waters receded.  

It had been a historically long day, and he felt like a train ran over him. The bags under his eyes showed his fatigue. And more than anything, Jonas needed some rest. He called Danny, hoping that they'd discovered a missing person's report, or a car without an owner.  

"Great,' he sighed. "Yeah, I'm going to head home and change out of my wet gear and into something drier. I'll meet you in an hour or two."  

Jonas hung up the call and started to hack again. He slowed down, seeing small red spots hit his window. He'd coughed up blood. It wasn't something he wanted anyone to see, at least not yet. If he was seen that way, by anyone who mattered, he'd certainly be put on leave.  

The easiest thing for him to do was to get some food, go home, change clothes, and get back to the station. There was still the missing girl to contend with, and the longer she was missing, the more likely they wouldn't find the body with any usable evidence. If she was in the water, at the stage they were already at, it was going to be harder.  

Jonas drove west to one of the areas with drive-thru food options. He was about to pull in when he decided to get gas first. The Suburban was nice, but it was a gas guzzler. As he got out in the rushing rain, he started to put his gas card in when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye.  

"Shit!"  

As busy as he was, he needed this like he needed more taxes. Jonas pulled into a BP station that was in the process of being robbed. As he acted as nonchalant as possible, Jonas finished filling his tank up and slipped his hand into his pocket. He called into dispatch.  

"This is Quinn," he said quietly. "I'm out at the BP in the 2100 block of Brady. There's an armed subject robbing the store."  

Jonas acted like he was just another person intent on filling up his gas tank. He kept looking out of the side of his eye, watching the store as the dollar amount on his gas card grew. He was running out of time.  

"At least one, possibly another one. Two males visible. One armed. One is a white male with a tan jacket and a skull mask. The other is a black male, tan jacket, skull mask and a backpack. He's holding a semi-automatic pistol," explained Jonas.  

The sound of the handle of the nozzle clicking told Jonas he was full. He slowly shook the nozzle, keeping a partial eye on the store, and telling himself not to do anything stupid. As he shook the nozzle in his tank, he noticed the gunman getting more aggravated.  

"Come on, just give them the register," he said to himself, hoping the clerk was cooperating.  

When the gunman cracked the clerk on the face with the butt of the pistol, Jonas knew he couldn't wait. He turned, put the nozzle back on the pump, and put his hands in his pockets. He rushed through the rain toward the door, his heart pounding in his chest. In his mind, his inner monologue questioned, "what am I doing?"  

He walked through the door and yelled at the clerk, "Jesus, is it ever gonna stop raining? I mean, come on, how's a guy supposed to get out and get beer and chips for the game with all this dammed rain."  

As he walked to the cooler and grabbed a twelve-pack of beer, Jonas watched the reactions of the two men still standing. Shit, he thought. Two of them. He slowly meandered back toward the front register, stopping to look at the potato chip prices. As he did, the black guy with the mask turned toward him and commented on how he better get home before the storm gets worse.  

"Shit, you got that right friend. But I gotta get a couple bags of nachos. The old lady made her famous dip and forgot the chips," he faked a chuckle as he grabbed two overpriced bags. "If you can imagine that."  

The room got silent as Jonas walked up to the register to pay, staring at an obvious student working behind the register. The spot on his head he'd been hit was still bleeding. Jonas didn't want to ignore it. As he swaggered toward the register, holding the chips up in one hand, Jonas sneered at the kid.  

"Learn how to shave. If you're gonna shave your head, use some soap or something and you won't get those nasty shaving cuts."  

"Yeah," commented the second robber. "The old guy has brains. You should listen."  

Jonas looked at the first robber, leaning into him a bit before commenting, "Dammed kids don't listen, do they."  

Jonas dropped the chips on the clerk's counter and smiled. As he smiled, he said he'd found his wallet. He reached into his jacket and swung the beer around, hitting the guy who had the gun right in the face and sending him into the rack of candy bars. Jonas pulled his duty weapon and aimed it as the other robber started to pull out a Glock.  

"Don't," he shouted at the kid. "Don't do it kid; it's not worth it," promised Jonas.  

As the two stared at each other, Jonas pleaded with him not to raise his weapon. He kept shouting to stop moving, to drop it, until the kid shot him a look telling him what was going to happen.  

The first shot rang out, causing a flash seen by the responding officers finally getting to the store. The second shot rang out, dropping the kid with the Glock in his hand to the ground. Jonas moved forward, his gun still aimed at the boy. He walked up cautiously and kicked the gun away from the boy's body. The young boy, who Jonas realized was maybe 19 years old, was panting as blood trickled out of his mouth.  

"Goddammit!" Screamed Jonas.  

As the responding units stormed into the convenience store, Jonas held up his gun and pulled his jacket aside to reveal his badge. He pointed to the kid that he knocked out and told the uniformed officers to call an ambulance. Jonas put his gun back in its holster and knelt next to the boy, trying to put pressure on the gaping bullet wound in his chest.  

"Stick with me kid," he yelled as he held his hands over the blood-spewing hole he'd just put in the boy's body.  

The boy's eyes were dark. He jerked as he coughed up blood, telling Jonas the bullet had gone through his lungs. The boy just looked at Jonas; a look of sadness and fear was all he had left. As Jonas struggled to stop the bleeding, officers brought in bandages to put over the wound. Jonas started stuffing the kid's chest with one after the other, until the final death rattle passed through the boy's lips. Jonas was still telling the kid to hold on when one of the uniformed officers tried to pull him away.  

"He's gone, sir."  

His arms went limp, and he slumped backwards, realizing he'd just killed the kid. To the rest of the room, the kid was a gunman at a robbery. To Jonas, he was a stupid 19-year-old who never had a chance.  

"Why'd he raise that gun? Why didn't he just surrender. I had the drop on him," admitted Jonas. "I had him."  

Danny ran into the station, looking for Jonas. Two of the uniformed officers pointed to the corner where Jonas was slumped. One of them told Danny how it had played out and that Jonas had been forced to shoot a kid. Danny sighed as he walked over to his partner. He tapped Jonas on the shoulder, getting him to look up. Danny could see that the man he partnered with was human. With everything he'd heard about Jonas Quinn, he knew Jonas didn't take any pleasure in what had happened.  

"Come on partner, let me get you out of here," he offered as he held his hand out.  

Danny had ridden to the station with a uniformed officer. They took Jonas's Suburban back to the station. Jonas remained silent during the ride back. He was eerily silent enough that Danny was worried about him. Danny hadn't shot anyone. He'd never killed anyone as a police officer. He worried about what it had done to Jonas.  

"I'm telling you, boss, he's not right," Danny told Amanda as he stood inside the door to her office.  

Amanda stepped around her desk. She'd gone through exactly what Jonas was feeling, and had been through it with other officers. She tried to explain to Danny that it's not an easy thing to take a life, even in the line of duty. But Jonas was tough, and it wasn't his first time.  

"How many?"  

"How many what," asked Amanda.  

"How many times has he had to kill someone while on duty?"  

Amanda looked at Danny, then down at her desk. She didn't make a habit out of telling officers things about other members of her department, but Danny seemed legitimately concerned about his partner. Giving him some context to understand why Jonas would be fine might help, she thought.  

"Jonas Quinn has killed 15 people in the line of duty, counting tonight. He's been in more gunfights than any other cop in the country currently serving, and much like tonight, he's been clean in every shoot," she explained. "So, what's that tell you."  

"That he's either the unluckiest, or the luckiest bastard to ever wear a uniform," suggested Danny.  

Amanda knew the answer. She knew that if he asked Jonas, Jonas would tell Danny he was the unluckiest cop ever.  

To be continued....