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Dec. 11th, 2010 12:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
derekmorganWho Derek Morgan, the team, Grigori Byko, Batman
When Bendy time
Where Tenement house where Reid is being held
Why Gotta rescue him
Narrow halls, and the smell of excrement barely registered over the smell of chemicals and the skittering people that had sense enough to move out of the way when they saw SWAT and FBI stalking down the hall. They were homeless mostly, and most of the walls and floorboards had gaping holes were time- or the chemicals that had been used to make the meth- had eaten away at the structure. There were muffled words of ‘be careful,’ and ‘watch out, there’ that Morgan only half registered as he and Prentiss deliberately made their way through the stairs.
They opt for a quiet extraction rather than hard and fast. They got one shot at this before Grigori Byko killed the hostage and then turned his guns on them. Everyone knew it.
He’s not sure- and won’t ever be- of what happened first or where the first bullet came, or the first curse word but suddenly the world exploded from under him. Morgan felt a pain sharp and blinding in his kneecap and his first thought he was shot.
Then he felt Pentriss grab him by his collar and haul him to his feet. Then more bullets. He heard Byko laughing.
“Got a visual, Jason!” Hotch had shouted over the cacophony of bullets and shouting. Byko was laughing as he darted between cracked walls, and broken mouthed windows. He was shouting in Russian something that seemed drug fueled and mixed with adrenaline.
Morgan looked over, following Hotch’s retreating form. He was covering Gideon as the older man darted into a side room- a bedroom from the looks of it and the prone figure on the bed.
Don’t be dead, kid. You hear me? You son of a bitch, don’t be…
There was a hesitation in Gideon’s movements that lasted a long moment and then the Sig dropped from his hand. Hotch cursed, tightening the circle near Gideon. He was on the bed now, over Spencer like medics practiced in warzones, using his body to shield Spencer from the firefight around him. Morgan could barely make out Reid under Jason, and from the distance couldn’t hear if the Agent was talking to him or checking for life.
Don’t. You hear me, Spencer…don’t…
“He’s alive!” Hotch shouted.
“Suspect moving westward.” One of the SWAT agents shouted, and Morgan was like a man on fire as he darted forward- ignoring Prentiss’ rebukes. She’d either keep up or wouldn’t.
And once Morgan got a clear shot of Byko; he took aimed and fired- only to feel another sharp pain. This time he hadn’t fallen through the rotting floor but had been pushed. There was a flurry of motion as he looked- and for a moment he thought he’d gone blind- hearing only the sounds of wings and moving of blackness.
Batman.
Someone said it, or he knew. Morgan thought for a moment it was as instinctual as knowing night from daytime. This was the city of ink and blurred visions and without knowing why or how, and even if he knew the unadorned facts about the vigilante- Morgan would be lying if he didn’t admit-for that second- he feared the dark.
Then the cop took over, and aiming steadily into the shadows, with all the experience decades in the Chicago PD and the BAU had given him- he fired.
The shadow stilled- and there was a muffled sound from where Byko had stood- then the shattering or screams or both- from the near window.
By the time anyone realized what happened next there was a SWAT team and the BAU standing alone where at once there’d been a fire fight. Prentiss was by the window, peering out into the alleyway and shaking her head grimly. She was speaking into the speaker on her shoulder. “Check all avenues, and rooftops. Byko has to be wounded…that’ll make em slower. Fan out.”
The nearest officer, someone who held the same weathered resignation Rossi got at times and Morgan was loathed to admit he felt at times; was shaking his head as he reholstered his weapon. “Won’t find him. The Bat got em…”
Like a boogeyman, Morgan thought idly as he listened. He glanced toward Prentiss and then doubled back towards the bedroom.
Hotch met them in the hall with a hand. There was something in his eyes Morgan hadn’t seen since Foyet. “We’ll meet them at the hospital.”
When Bendy time
Where Tenement house where Reid is being held
Why Gotta rescue him
Narrow halls, and the smell of excrement barely registered over the smell of chemicals and the skittering people that had sense enough to move out of the way when they saw SWAT and FBI stalking down the hall. They were homeless mostly, and most of the walls and floorboards had gaping holes were time- or the chemicals that had been used to make the meth- had eaten away at the structure. There were muffled words of ‘be careful,’ and ‘watch out, there’ that Morgan only half registered as he and Prentiss deliberately made their way through the stairs.
They opt for a quiet extraction rather than hard and fast. They got one shot at this before Grigori Byko killed the hostage and then turned his guns on them. Everyone knew it.
He’s not sure- and won’t ever be- of what happened first or where the first bullet came, or the first curse word but suddenly the world exploded from under him. Morgan felt a pain sharp and blinding in his kneecap and his first thought he was shot.
Then he felt Pentriss grab him by his collar and haul him to his feet. Then more bullets. He heard Byko laughing.
“Got a visual, Jason!” Hotch had shouted over the cacophony of bullets and shouting. Byko was laughing as he darted between cracked walls, and broken mouthed windows. He was shouting in Russian something that seemed drug fueled and mixed with adrenaline.
Morgan looked over, following Hotch’s retreating form. He was covering Gideon as the older man darted into a side room- a bedroom from the looks of it and the prone figure on the bed.
Don’t be dead, kid. You hear me? You son of a bitch, don’t be…
There was a hesitation in Gideon’s movements that lasted a long moment and then the Sig dropped from his hand. Hotch cursed, tightening the circle near Gideon. He was on the bed now, over Spencer like medics practiced in warzones, using his body to shield Spencer from the firefight around him. Morgan could barely make out Reid under Jason, and from the distance couldn’t hear if the Agent was talking to him or checking for life.
Don’t. You hear me, Spencer…don’t…
“He’s alive!” Hotch shouted.
“Suspect moving westward.” One of the SWAT agents shouted, and Morgan was like a man on fire as he darted forward- ignoring Prentiss’ rebukes. She’d either keep up or wouldn’t.
And once Morgan got a clear shot of Byko; he took aimed and fired- only to feel another sharp pain. This time he hadn’t fallen through the rotting floor but had been pushed. There was a flurry of motion as he looked- and for a moment he thought he’d gone blind- hearing only the sounds of wings and moving of blackness.
Batman.
Someone said it, or he knew. Morgan thought for a moment it was as instinctual as knowing night from daytime. This was the city of ink and blurred visions and without knowing why or how, and even if he knew the unadorned facts about the vigilante- Morgan would be lying if he didn’t admit-for that second- he feared the dark.
Then the cop took over, and aiming steadily into the shadows, with all the experience decades in the Chicago PD and the BAU had given him- he fired.
The shadow stilled- and there was a muffled sound from where Byko had stood- then the shattering or screams or both- from the near window.
By the time anyone realized what happened next there was a SWAT team and the BAU standing alone where at once there’d been a fire fight. Prentiss was by the window, peering out into the alleyway and shaking her head grimly. She was speaking into the speaker on her shoulder. “Check all avenues, and rooftops. Byko has to be wounded…that’ll make em slower. Fan out.”
The nearest officer, someone who held the same weathered resignation Rossi got at times and Morgan was loathed to admit he felt at times; was shaking his head as he reholstered his weapon. “Won’t find him. The Bat got em…”
Like a boogeyman, Morgan thought idly as he listened. He glanced toward Prentiss and then doubled back towards the bedroom.
Hotch met them in the hall with a hand. There was something in his eyes Morgan hadn’t seen since Foyet. “We’ll meet them at the hospital.”
