2 Brooklyn James (29 page)

“You did good, son.” Lon weakly pats the side of his face, his lungs wheezing. He takes Emily’s hand joining it in Maxim’s over his chest. “You carry on, that’s what you do. The divine bloodline.” He smiles at them tenderly.

“Lon,” Gina cries. His head resting in her lap, her tears trickle down her face and onto his.

“My sweet Brianna. Now, you are free,” he whispers. “And so am I.” Releasing his last breath, he is gone. Gina covers his open eyes, her body collapsing over his, grieving his loss once again.

“The great detective is still rounding them up.” Dr. Godfrey shakes his head in admiration, a chuckle forming. “He is steadfast, that one.”

“What do you plan...” Dr. Ryan begins, interrupted by her husband, William Truly coming back for another white coat. As he swiftly gathers up two sedated bodies, traipsing out the door, Dr. Ryan continues, “To do with their blood?”

Dr. Godfrey eyes her, his brows pressed firmly. “Don’t get any bright ideas Patricia,” he warns. “That blood is to be destroyed. Incinerated.”

She grabs the door, hearing William Truly coming back for two more. Hoisting the scientists, one over each shoulder as if they are feedbags, he pecks Dr. Ryan on the cheek in passing, indicating he is headed to the police department with the detainees. She closes the door behind him. “Wouldn’t it be best to hold onto it? For safekeeping?” she pries.

“I would think you have learned by now that when it comes to that blood...Vigilare blood,” Dr. Godfrey enunciates, “there is no
safe
keeping.” He busily inserts IVs into the arms of five more ETNA members, wheeling their stretchers to the siphoning station.

Dr. Ryan helps him, pulling stretchers into position. “I just think it would be best to keep it. At least some of it. You never know when it may be needed.”

Dr. Godfrey spins in her direction, his round face uncharacteristically angry. He points his finger only centimeters from her chest. “I went against my better judgment once for you. I will not do it again.” He returns his hand to his side, pulling on the edges of his lab coat, briskly adjusting it. “You can either make yourself useful, or leave.” He begins attaching blood tubing to the IVs secured on the interior forearms of the white coats.

Dr. Ryan looks at him surprised by the rise in his voice. “You’re not quite the pushover I took you for,” she comments.

He scrunches up his nose hoisting his bifocals to the appropriate eye level. “You surround yourself with courageous people, you become courageous,” he answers, speaking of his association with Tony, Gina, Max, Emily, Marks and Aubrey.

“I see. They’ve won not only your respect but your heart.” She paces in front of the siphoning station unable to keep herself from eyeing the blood in the tubing as it leaves their systems, quickly replaced with mortal donor blood. “Business and friendship do not mix, kind Doctor. You know I am right in suggesting we store simply a minute amount of this blood. Why am I arguing with you?” she questions herself, throwing her hands up in the air. “You work for me. I make the decisions,” she clarifies.

The laboratory door flings open. Detective Tony Gronkowski drags the remaining members of the white coats’ debilitated bodies inside. His breathing ragged, his clothing and his skin torn in multiple places, his fatigued eyes spark and sputter emerald green as if he has a short in his breaker box. Leaning up against the wall, he catches a bottle of water thrown to him by the round-faced hematologist who remains steadily at work. “Thank you,” Tony expels, having to force his legs upright beneath him.

“Detective,” Dr. Ryan acknowledges him.

“I suggest you leave,” he pants between breaths, guzzling his water.

“Oh, you do?” she chirps sharply.

He nods his head. “Before you create another mess someone else has to clean up.” He crushes the empty water bottle, lobbing it into the trash. “The man said no. N-O means no, lady. Open your damned ears, and get the hell out.” Tony flings the laboratory door back against its hinges, giving her a perfectly clear message.

“So, you think you run the show now?” She steps up to him, her eyes investigating.

“The show?” He chuckles. “More like the freaking circus. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” He stares her down, his hazel eyes disgusted with her image. His face and body marred from fighting white coats into sedated submission. “Hell Hound. Gina’s husband. The whole damn lot. You ever read Frankenstein? You can’t keep playing with people’s lives. Gina knows. Hell, your own daughter even knows all the dastardly little deeds you’ve done. Do you have no shame?”

“Sometimes the best decisions are not always the most popular, Detective,” she reprimands.

Tony huffs, looking to Dr. Godfrey, unable to fathom her gall. “You ever wanted to hit a woman, Dr. Godfrey?”

He smiles at Tony. “No, Detective. I don’t believe I ever have.”

“In all my years with the police department. All the crazy, disrespectful, name-calling, fist-flinging folks I’ve come in contact with, I’ve never wanted to hit a woman.” He looks directly at Dr. Ryan. “Until now. Sure the best decisions aren’t always the most popular, especially when it doesn’t affect you directly, huh?” He jolts toward her refraining from laying his hands on her. His teeth gritting, he seethes, “You let a woman believe her husband and her six-year-old child were dead while you knew they were alive all along. You kept them that way. Bartered them off to ETNA to keep her for yourself. To serve your purpose. That same woman would’ve risked her life for you...for your Emily...for any of us!” His escalating voice causing Dr. Godfrey to jump. “What the hell are you? Surely you can’t be human.”

“I’ll be back...later,” she calls to Dr. Godfrey, maintaining strict eye contact with Tony as she walks out the door.

“Freaking unbelievable,” Tony huffs, shaking his head. “You’re not going to let her back in here, are ya?”

“Not if I can help it.” Dr. Godfrey continues his diligent work, scurrying from white coat to white coat.

Tony’s legs give out underneath him as he slides down the wall until his backside rests on the floor. His head tilted back, his eyelids heavily closing, he apologizes to Dr. Godfrey, “I’m sorry I doubted you. You’re a good man, Charlie Brown.” And he’s off to sleep.

Dr. Godfrey shuffles to him resting there, draping a blanket over the brave detective’s frame. “You’re a good man, too. A valiant inspiration.” A smile gracing his happy face, he affectionately pats Tony on top of his head before returning to his task.

“Yeah. Wait ’til she’s out of that thing in a week,” Tony refers to her cast and the profound effects of Vigilare healing. “That’ll throw ’em for a loop.”

Marks chuckles uneasily, having forgotten about that enlightening little fact. Turning to Max, he pats him on the back of his signature black leather jacket. “Sorry about your dad, man.” Max nods, a quiet thank you, his eyes shifting to the floor. Emily, aware of their conversation, slips her hand around the back of his leg as he stands there giving it a gentle squeeze.

Tony taps Max on the chest with the back of his hand attempting to turn the grievous chatter around. “Think I’ve got this one talked into heading back to Vanguard with us. Spoke with Chief Burns last night. He says you’re promoted,” he congratulates Marks. “And I’ll need a new partner.”

Marks shakes Max’s hand gregariously, giving him a celebratory slap on his shoulder. “Be an honor having you on the force, Officer Kiesel,” he tries out the soon-to-be handle. He looks around, his eyes shiftily assessing who may or may not be listening. With a soft voice, he questions Tony, “Does Chief know about any of this Vigilare business?”

“Nah,” Tony answers. “Figure it’s best to keep that under wraps.”

Marks nods approvingly. “Yeah, sorry we couldn’t get you guys any recognition for the ETNA cleanup.”

“No worries,” Tony affirms. “Saw on the tube, the feds didn’t waste any time taking the credit,” he scoffs.

“DeLuca!” Marks greets the figure in the doorway. Stepping to her, he wraps his arms around her welcoming her to the party. Tony forces himself to avoid eye contact with her, unsure of how she will react to his presence. She carries a pizza in one hand, a six-pack of lager in the other.

“Hey Mom,” Max’s face lights up, relieving her of the pizza box.

“Hi son.” She takes great comfort in the title, kissing him on the cheek. Max hugs her to him before digging into the pizza.

“Gina!” Aubrey exclaims, attempting to peek around the three large frames standing in her way. Gina extends a quick nod to Tony, heading for Aubrey on the opposite side of her bed from Emily. She sets the lager on a nearby table, bending to kiss Aubrey on the forehead.

Inspecting the gauze wrapped around the other side of her noggin, Gina comments on its blood stain. “When’s the last time they changed that?”

“He changed it for me last night.” Aubrey gestures at Marks.

“I’d say he’s a keeper,” Gina remarks, her eyes meeting Emily, a respectful exchange.

Aubrey nods, further bragging on her
Lancelot.
“He gives a marvelous sponge bath, too.” She giggles causing the room to burst out in laughter.

“Where’s the meat?” Max asks inspecting the pizza decorated with a thick layer of mozzarella cheese, basil leaves and ripe red tomatoes.

Gina looks at Tony, a smile gracing her lips. “It’s Pizza Margaret,” she recalls his famous fumble of her favorite Pizza Margherita. He smiles back, their eyes holding one another’s momentarily. Max wrinkles up his nose.

Tony thumps him lightly on the chest. “Just eat it. It’s good.” With Tony’s endorsement, Max digs in dishing out a slice for everyone. They play pass the paper plate, the first one respectfully going to Aubrey. Gina pulls the bottles of lager one by one from the six-pack, popping the tops on the edge of the bedside table.

Tony stealthily pulls the curtains to Aubrey’s room, sure that alcohol is against hospital policy. Sticking his head out the door, he reciprocates a charming grin and wave to the pleased faces peeking back at him from the nurses’ station. Closing the door behind him, they all take seats gathered round Aubrey’s bed. One chair short, Emily hops up. Maxim slips in pulling her back down onto his lap. Marks affectionately smiles at Aubrey, her face beaming from the love and encouragement of her friends.

Gina raises her bottle of lager causing everyone else to do the same. “Cheers to a speedy recovery.” She looks to Aubrey, a series of
‘ayes’
and
‘cheers’
in her honor. Looking around the room at the faces of those closest and most cardinal to her, she follows up, “To family.”

“To family!” a devoted agreement in unison is followed by the first celebratory sip.

Later that evening,
Aubrey’s nurse quietly enters the room checking on her status. The nurse’s expression softened by the heart-warming display of loyalty presented by the group. Marks is nestled in Aubrey’s bed beside her, his arm slung protectively around her abdomen, their foreheads touching as they rest peacefully. Gina and Tony are kicked back in chairs beside them, their boots propped up on the side of the bed, their feet intertwined. Maxim lounges in the recliner on the other side of the room, Emily cuddled in his arms against his chest, her legs hanging over the side of the padded chair.

As the nurse leaves the room, Maxim stirs, the moonlight shining in through the window. “Goodnight moon,” he says, hugging Emily tighter to him.

From across the bed, he hears Gina’s voice reply, “Goodnight stars.” They chuckle contentedly, closing their eyes to drift off to dream, having come full circle.