Since you enjoyed the last fan fiction short story we did back in March, we decided to do another one. This one was done by Peggy with all the artwork done by Bryna. It is called Rendition and it is quite a thriller so get ready for the ride.
Danny is trapped down in the rendition room with a gravely injured Steve and a psychopathic serial murderer who just won’t die. With no clear way out and the Palace completely locked down, how will he handle it?
Let’s find out.
Danny looks around the room, trying to keep from pulling his gun and shooting this suspect in the head.
“We have five bodies in the morgue. You have admitted to killing six. Tell us who the last one is and where we can find the body.” He demands, glaring at the suspect.
Steve, standing off to the side, is enjoying watching his partner interrogate the killer. They had managed to catch this guy as he went back to ‘visit’ one of his kills. They had found the bodies and forensics showed he liked to come back, visit and relive his kills. They had staked out each burial site and finally got him. Looking at him now, Steve feels the anger and disgust toward this monster he felt when he’d first caught the case.
A young woman had called in the first find. She had been walking her dog and the mutt had uncovered the victim. It had been weeks since he had been there so there was no danger he would be back. It wasn’t until the second was found, completely by accident again, that they knew they had a serial on their hands. It had taken weeks but the found the other dump sites and in leaving those alone, they were able to catch him. So here they are, trying to find out where the last victim lies so they can put this case to rest; hand him over to the HPD and the PA. Move on to the next case, as usual.
It’s everything in him to keep from beating the information out him. But, he’d agreed to allow Danny to try and pull it out “peacefully” and he can see his partner is getting frustrated and pissed off.
The suspect smiles, shifting in the chair, looking from one to the other. “Are you sure it’s the last one?”
“Idiot…you admitted there were six bodies. We have five. So yeah, that would make number six the last one.” The sarcasm and annoyance coming in loud and clear in his voice.
Steve turns to the wall to keep Danny from seeing him smile and avoid pissing him off even more.
“Still not sure number six is the last victim of mine.” He states, his voice smooth and creepy.
“All right. I’m done here Steve. You do what you want. I’m tired of this cryptic shit this guy is dealing.” He turns to the door, ready to walk out and let Steve do what he does best.
Seeing his best chance, the suspect moves quickly, leaping out of the chair, having picked both cuffs, reaches for and grabs the gun at the Commander’s waist, standing tall as Steve turns to him, surprise on his face. The suspect, giving only the name Akua, hooks his finger in the trigger guard and squeezes. He watches the Commander’s face closely as the look of surprise turns to shock and then pain. He feels the recoil of the weapon as the bullet discharges into the taut flesh of the man’s abdomen and he breathes in deeply, the smile on his face getting bigger. He feels the heat of the discharge and the spatter of blood onto his hand as the bullet enters the soft flesh of the abdomen where it will do the most damage. His eyes roll back in his head as the Commander falls away from him and a wet gurgle escapes his throat as in sexual release. He forgets for a moment, a deadly moment, that he is not alone and when he does remember, it’s too late.
Danny, hearing the scrape of the chair, his hand half an inch from the keypad, turns quickly, but not quickly enough to stop the nightmare he witnesses. He pulls his P30 from its holster, bringing it to bear on Akua as he hears Steve’s SIG discharge and watches as he backs away sliding to the floor, a large, red stain appearing on his shirt. Working on instinct alone, he squeezes the trigger, hitting Akua in the middle of his back as he hears the gurgle come out of his mouth. Danny shivers as he realizes what that sound is and moves swiftly, kicking the gun out of Akua’s hand as he turns, not going down from the bullet in his back. He brings his gun hand down across Akua’s face, knocking him down, but not out. Determined to take this guy down, he brings his foot down on his head, not caring if he survives or not. Repeating the move, he sees the blood pouring out Akua’s nose and he’s satisfied he’s out.
Steve hears all the noise around him but is having a hard time focusing on what’s happening. The whooshing in his ears as his blood pumps harder and faster blocks out almost all sound and the pain in his gut blocks out all else. His wide eyes look down and he sees his hand coated in red as it rests over the wound. He raises his head and sees Danny coming toward him, larger than life and then only pain as his partner places his hands over Steve’s and the wound.
It can’t be that bad, can it? I mean, no, it can’t happen this way. I can’t be taken out by some psycho in my own building; in the room I set up for a specific purpose…so this can never happen. And how the hell did he get out of the cuffs?
“Steve!? Come on, buddy, look at me!” Danny kneels down, placing his hands over the gushing wound in his partner’s stomach. He tries to get Steve to focus on his face but he can’t help but look down at his hands, which are already coated in blood. “Don’t do this, buddy. Don’t you dare die on me here! Not in this room. Not at the hands of this bastard!” He presses harder, knowing that he needs to staunch the bleeding until help can get here. He looks up at the cameras, hoping someone has already called the EMT’s when he hears a sound that makes his blood curdle. The alarms. The failsafe, un-hackable, unbreakable security system that Steve had put in after the last time the Palace was taken hostage. He hears the doors locks click and wonders what’s gonna happen now.
He doesn’t have time to think about that. He needs to slow the bleeding. Quickly, he tears his shirt off and places it directly against the wound, pressing hard.
Steve grunts as he feels the pressure on the wound, the pain less now than just a few seconds ago and he knows he doesn’t have long. He tries to shift, but he can’t move. He can’t feel his legs.
“D’nny. Cn’t move. Cn’t feel legs.” He mumbles out. “M’gonna die.” His voice is low and gravelly.
“No! Don’t you dare give up on me, Steven! We’re gonna be fine. EMT’s should be here any second and they’ll patch you up, get you to the hospital where they will know exactly what to do with you. They certainly see you enough. Remember? You are a danger magnet.” He rambles, trying not to focus on the large, red pool forming under his knees. “Come on, Steve. I know you have some ninja trick to slow down your heart; keep it from beating so hard. We need to slow the bleeding until they can get here.” He looks wildly around the room, trying to see what else he can use. He curses the decision to keep the rooms to a bare minimum. Chair, small lockbox of extra cuffs and chains, and…wait! A first aid kit. Not much, but it’s something. Danny looks back at his partner and decides he needs to take the chance.
“Steve, listen to me.” He shakes him slightly, “Wake up, buddy. I need you to hold this in place. I need to get to the first aid kit. Hopefully you listened to me and Chin and filled it with more than a couple of band-aids.” He grabs Steve’s hands and places them over the soaked shirt. “Come on, babe, just hold on to this.” He pleads. He feels Steve try and press down and he takes the chance. Moving across the room, he yanks the kit from the wall and as he’s turning, the room goes dark. Complete and utter darkness.
Stay tuned for Part 2
Story by P_Street_7609
Fanart by Becoming_Bryna