Taken

Chris (Chapter 12)

As soon as I did it, I realized what a bad idea it was to jump on the back of a potentially crazy man with a machine gun.  But what choice did I have?  Dad and John couldn't shoot him or we would lose information, and they couldn't shoot the man holding Zoey because well, I just said: he had Zoey.  My plan was that he would drop Zoey, who was now clutching her side as best she could, and come after me, leaving an opening for either Dad or John to shoot him, preferably before he got to me.  It was a risk, and if the potential terrorists didn't kill, I was sure my dad would kill me for taking it.

            "You dare insult me like this?!"  The man yelled at me in English as he tried to throw me off his back.  That was a good thing to know that he spoke English.  Another good thing would be to knock him out at least.

I started throwing punches the best I could while also holding on for dear life.  The man was a freaking monster!  Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

            Just when I was about to give up, I threw one last punch, this time hitting where I had been aiming for; his head.  He fell to the ground with me on top of him, and I could tell he was out cold.  I got up fast, and just in time to.  The man with the knife was coming at me, ready to strike.  I looked behind him for a brief moment and saw he had dropped Zoey on the ground.  She was trying to get up, but kept falling back down.

            I turned my attention back on knife guy and realized he was right in front of me.  I dogged to the left right before he brought the blade down where I had been standing.  He came at me again, but I wasn't fast enough that time.  He cut me on the arm and it stung like the Devil. Why weren't Dad and John helping?  I wondered.  Were they shocked that even I had done something this stupid, or were they laughing at how dumb I looked fighting an armed lunatic?  Or were they hurt...?

  I grabbed the hand that held the knife, and twisted it until he screamed in pain.  The knife that had Zoey's and now my blood on it fell to the ground and I kicked it away.  Now we had a fair fight.  I punched him as hard as I could in the jaw, and he crumpled to the ground.  That was way too easy, but he seemed to be unconscious so I started walking over to where Zoey was to help her.  Just as I started walking though, a hand grabbed my ankle and pulled me down.  My head hit the concrete so hard I saw stars, and nothing else.  I thought for sure I was screwed, but then I heard a gunshot.  The pulling on my ankle stopped.

I looked over where John had been and saw him standing with his gun ready.  I looked at the guy and saw John had shot him right in the head.  I looked back at John and gave him the thumbs up sign that the guy was gone, and then laid my pounding head back on the ground.  John went to help Zoey, while Dad got the semi-conscious leader to his feet and walked him to the van.

            John picked up Zoey and came over to me.  "Get up! We need to get out of here before the local cops show up!"  I noted that Zoey was unconscious, and I figured that was best for her sake. I kinda wished I was unconscious too.

I got to my feet; something that took way more effort than it should have, and started following John to the van.  I tried not to move my head too much, but I did manage to see Zoey's face and I saw that it was covered in sweat.  We had to get her help fast.

Part of me was happy that we had found her, but the other part was ashamed that we hadn't found her before this had happened. 

When we got to the van, John laid Zoey down in the very back and climbed in after.  I sat in the front with Dad, and our little kill crazy friend sat in the middle row looking pissed.

When we first started driving, Dad didn't say anything.  Then about ten minutes later I got reamed.  "That was the stupidest most dangerous move you've done yet.  I still can't believe you did that..."  Blah, blah, blah.  He basically just keeps repeating those things until I say that I won't do it again.  And after what happened, I'm pretty sure I won't.  My arm was still bleeding and my head was still pounding.  I went to touch where I had fallen on my head and realized it was wet.  When I moved my hand away to look at it I saw dark red blood on it.  That was just great.

I looked back at John, only to see him stratify off into space. He looked so angry and disappointed, but I wasn't sure at who.

"What's the deal with John?"  I whispered to Dad.

            "I think he's mad at himself."  He whispered back, monotone.  "I told him to put his gun down and he didn't and as a result she got stabbed."

"Oh."  John was taking this personally.  I don't know why, we all make mistakes; we just have to work on not ever doing them again, especially in our business.  But I knew he was going to be upset for the rest of the day at least for letting that happen.  I also knew it wasn't easy to let mistakes go, especially when someone got hurt because of it, but Dad and I needed John, so we needed him to snap out of it.

            "So, where are we going?"

            "To a private doctor's office where you and Zoey can get patched up.  It's an old friend of mine. Last I checked he was still here."

            "What are we going to do with him?"  I said motioning to the man in the back.

            "While you and Zoey are being taken care of, John and I will start interrogating him. We'll also call for a plane.  I don't think we are going to want to transport either of them in a normal public plane."

            "Probably not."

            The rest of the ride I decided to take a nap.  I think I had deserved it, after all that I had done.

                                                                    ... 

When we got to the doctor's office, Dad explained to them why we had gone there and not to a normal hospital.  They were more than willing to help, and literally had me taken care of in less than 30 minutes.  I didn't even need stiches on my arm or head, though I had giant bandages and they were worried I might have had a concussion.  Zoey was a different story. Apparently the knife wound was deeper than we had thought.  She was going to need stiches.

            When we had brought her into the doctor's office, she had been unconscious.  But, as if on cue, when the doctor brought up stiches, she woke up. Just for a few minutes, but I could see panic in her eyes.  She had no idea where she was, or how she had gotten there, and I was worried she might try to get up or worse, try to ask me questions.  But she didn't have enough energy to do anything and she slipped back into sleep.

            The doctor operated on her for about 45 minutes; cleaning the wound stitching it up, and making sure there weren't any other serious injuries.  He was worried about her mental health considering what she had seen and been through, and wanted to keep her there for observation. We didn't have time for that though.  I had to assure him multiple times that when we got back to headquarters, we would have her evaluated and she would be in good hands.  They also warned me that she might not wake up fully for a few days, and that when she did to be as calm as we could so we wouldn't upset her; as if the thought we were really going to start yelling at her when she woke up.

Dad and John were still in the van trying to interrogate the man, but I could tell they had gotten nowhere.  They had contacted our pilot, and we started heading toward the airport.  John and I rode in the back with Zoey where she occasionally woke up for a few seconds, but then closed her eyes again.  We reached the airport and boarded our plane.  I could finally take what I considered a well-deserved rest.

................................................................

YAY! Three pages long! like? cooment and vote plse!

~Emily~