Out of the Frying Pan,
Into the Fire
ATF Alternate Universe
When Chris arrived at the ATF office, he saw that the rest of his team was already there, busy processing the prisoners and evidence from the bust.
"JD?" he called.
When the young ATF agent looked up, he saw Chris motion him into his office.
"What do ya need, boss?" JD asked, standing in the doorway.
"I need you to work some of that computer magic of yours," Chris replied, pulling out his desk chair for the young man. "Get me into the U.S. Marshal's personnel files."
JD gave Chris a questioning look, but did as he was told. After a few minutes, he looked up at his superior.
"Who's file do you need?" he asked.
"For starters, Vin Tanner's," the older man replied.
"Isn't he the Marshal that saved you and Nathan?" JD asked, typing in the name.
"That he is," Chris replied, nudging JD out of his seat, already reading the file as he sat down. "Any special tricks to get out?" he asked, not looking at JD.
"No, just keep hitting exit until you get back to our set up," the young agent replied.
"Thanks JD," Chris said, looking up at him. "Talk to you later," he added, dismissing him.
Vin knocked on the open door and stepped in.
"Hey, Miss Nettie," he greeted the secretary within.
"Hello, Vin," she responded closing the distance between the two of them to give him a welcoming hug.
Vin was used to the woman giving him a hug or a kiss on the cheek every now and then, but the hug today was different. He gently pushed her away and looked into her eyes.
"What's goin' on?" he asked, suspicious.
"You haven't heard?" she asked.
"Haven't heard what?" he asked, uneasily.
"Nealson's trying to get you blackballed," she replied quietly and just as uneasily, sympathy in her eyes.
Vin was stunned by the woman's words. Blackballed? He took a step back and sank down heavily onto an office chair.
"Rumor has it you abandoned EJ during a gunfight," Nettie added.
"I might as well put in my letter of resignation right now," he mumbled, closing his eyes and hanging his head.
"But it's not true! Anybody that knows you knows you'd never abandon your partner," she admonished. "Not that EJ doesn't deserve to be abandoned," she added.
Vin smiled at the woman's remark, but it didn't last. If there was one thing that he knew for sure, he would never survive in law enforcement if other officers believed that he'd abandoned a partner. Being blackballed would mean that he would never be accepted into another department. Never get promoted. Never be transferred. He'd be stuck with Nealson. Unless of course, he was lucky enough to get fired.
'Bet Larabee never had this problem,' he thought suddenly.
"Vin?" Nettie called, lifting his chin. "Those people that know you, that truly know you, won't believe one word out of Nealson's mouth. Anybody else? Who shives a git!"
Vin smiled at the woman again and stood up. He pulled her into an embrace and got a hug in return.
"Thanks, Miss Nettie," he said softly.
"Now, let's have your report," she said, putting her hand out. "I'll have it transcribed and typed up before I go home. I'll personally deliver it to Nealson in the morning," she continued.
Vin took the small cassette tape from his pocket and put it into the woman's hand.
"What would I do without ya, Miss Nettie?" he asked wistfully.
"You'd have to get a spell check on your computer, for starters," she teased lightly, shooing the young Marshal out of her office. "Don't you worry none, Vin. I always believed that when one door slams shut on ya, there's always another one that opens up," she added.
Vin thought about the woman's bit of encouragement as he headed down to the parking lot. 'Yeah, I'm gettin' a big ol' door slammed in my face,' he thought sadly.
Vin had ridden home to his apartment after leaving the Marshal's office. After checking his mail and answering machine, he checked in with the neighbors. He hadn't missed anything exciting, and only got the usual junk mail that day. He sat around in his apartment for an hour or so, restless. Part of him wanted to trash the place, throw breakables around and smash things to bits. He had become so angry with Nealson and Banks. He cursed himself as well, for allowing himself to be used and manipulated by the pair. But he didn't dare vent his anger. Not here in the apartment building. He was the one always trying to teach the kids about reigning their tempers! He looked at his watch. Seven o'clock. He remembered Larabee's invitation to meet down at Inez's Saloon. He had such an easy time talking with the ATF agent earlier. Maybe he could do it again. Maybe Larabee might have some advice for him. Making up his mind, Vin grabbed his jacket, helmet and keys and headed out.
He found the place easily enough. He'd never been in it, but had heard about it. It was a cop bar. Denver PD usually had the most representatives present. But then, they were the largest department in the area. Vin had heard of other Marshals going there, but he had never been invited. He didn't have many friends in the Denver office. 'No thanks to EJ,' he thought coldly. He parked the Harley in the side parking lot, next to a Kawasaki Ninja. He saw a black Dodge Ram pick-up parked nearby and for some reason, he just knew it belonged to Larabee. He entered the establishment and headed for the bar.
Vin looked for the voice and spotted Nathan Jackson at the end of the bar, waving him over.
He wove his way through the crowd toward the ATF agent and as he approached the bar, recognized other members of the ATF team. JD Dunne sat with his back to the bar. A motorcycle helmet rested on the bar behind him. Next to him was Buck Wilmington. Vin remembered the big man as playing one of the weapons dealers. Then came Josiah Sanchez - another big man, who also played a weapons dealer. Vin didn't think he'd want to mess with either of the men. Ezra Standish joined the group then.
"Ah, Mr. Tanner," he greeted him. "So good of you to join us! Might I offer you a drink, since I'm sure that none of these gentlemen have been so kind to have done so?"
"Yeah, first drink's on me," Nathan put in. "I owe this man!"
"Just a beer, thanks," Vin said quietly.
When Buck saw Vin looking around, he answered Vin's unasked question, saying, "Chris'll be right back. Said he had a phone call to make."
Vin nodded and accepted the beer handed to him.
"Hey, Vin, glad you could make it," Chris said, offering his hand out to the younger man.
"Glad to be invited," he replied, shaking the offered hand.
"You remember everyone, don't you?" the team leader asked, gesturing to the group.
"Yeah," he replied, nodding.
He was about to continue, to ask Chris if he could talk to him, when Chris beat him to the punch.
"Hey, mind if we talk?" the older man asked, gesturing to a table in the back of the saloon. "Don't worry, boys, I'll bring him right back," he told the others as he led Vin away from the group.
"Think he'll take Chris's offer?" JD asked.
"If the man has any brains, he will," Ezra put in.
The pair sat down at the table with their beers. They were silent at first, each not sure how to start the conversation. Vin finally broke the silence.
"I've got a problem. I was hopin' you might know how to help me out," he said, unsure of himself.
"I've got a solution," Chris responded.
"You don't even know what my problem is," Vin countered.
Chris took a deep breath before responding, "Let's see. We've already established the fact that you work with assholes. Now one of them is determined to blackball you in the department. You need a new job and I've got one for you."
The Marshal was dumbfounded.
"I did a little checking around after I dropped you off," the ATF leader continued. "Up until you began working with Nealson and Banks, you'd had an impeccable record as a Marshal. You've got commendations and awards up to yin-yang. But now, for whatever reason, the assholes are trying to frame you for a misconduct." He took a sip from his beer and continued on. "Don't ask me to explain it, Vin, but even after only meeting you today, I know what kind of man you are. You're someone I'd like to have working on my team. If you'd like to."
Vin looked at the man across the table. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard. Chris Larabee was offering him a job. His mind was screaming at him, 'Take it! Take it!' He found himself nodding his head.
"I'd like to," he said, which resulted in a big grin on Larabee's face.
"Well, then," he began. "All you need to do is sign here on the dotted line and you'll be on your way to a lateral transfer," he finished, pulling a set of papers out from inside his coat.
"Nealson's squashed all my other tries at transfers," Vin said.
"Nealson won't have a say in anything," Chris countered, assuring the younger man. "I've got my own connections around here. You're as good as gold."
Vin looked at him again. He knew Chris was telling the truth. He had no doubt in his mind that whatever Chris Larabee wanted, Chris Larabee got. And tonight, Chris Larabee got a new member on his team as Vin signed the papers. He no sooner finished his signature on the third copy, when he felt the crowd gather around him. He looked up to see the rest of Larabee's team.
"Glad to have you aboard, pard'," Buck said, slapping Vin on the back.
"Welcome to the team," Nathan added, shaking the sharpshooter's hand.
He shook the others' hands as well, a bit overwhelmed by their enthusiastic welcome.
"Thanks, y'all," he said. "I'll do my best for ya," he added.
"That's all we can ask," Chris put in.
"Next round's on me," Vin announced, much to the delight of the other six.
Looking at each of his new friends in turn, Vin realized that he was a very lucky man that night. Little did he know that that luck would be running out very shortly.
"Vin! What are you doin' here so early?" Nettie asked, surprised at seeing the young man in her office doorway.
"I got some good news," he replied.
The woman saw the twinkle in Vin's eyes and knew he was telling the truth. He did have good news.
"So, out with it!" she exclaimed.
"I got a new job," he began. "I'm now an official agent of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms. Signed the transfer papers last night."
"But how?" she asked, dumbfounded. "All your other transfer requests were shot down by Nealson. And after yesterday"
"Nealson had nothin' to do with it," he explained, still feeling the euphoria of knowing he would be free of the man. "That ATF guy, Chris Larabee," he continued. "He offered me a spot on his team. He had all the paperwork done for me last night. All I had to do was sign my name."
"Vin, you just met him yesterday," she argued. "Can you trust him? How do you know you're just not gettin' yourself into more trouble? What do you even know about the ATF?" she asked.
"I can't explain it, Miss Nettie," he replied, running his fingers through his hair, shaking his head in disbelief. "But I just got this feelin'. Chris Larabee's a good man. Shit," he swore at his inability to articulate. "He reminds me of Charlie," he finally said.
"Well, if he's anythin' like Charlie," she said smiling, remembering Vin's friend fondly, "then you can't go wrong. I'm happy for ya, boy," she said, putting her arms around him and hugging him fiercely.
He pulled back after a bit and saw the tears on the woman's face.
"What's wrong? Ain't ya happy for me?" he asked, concerned.
"Couldn't be happier, Vin," she replied. "I'm just gonna miss ya, is all."
"Maybe you can get yourself a transfer too. I'm still gonna need someone to help me with my reports," he teased, before the realization hit him.
Nettie saw the look in his eyes, knew what he was thinking.
"If this man Larabee is anything like you say he is, I wouldn't worry none about your reports," she assured him.
He nodded his head and took his report off her desk, saying, "Couple more things I gotta do before I go."
Vin put the backpack down next to his desk and looked around. He was the first one into the office and was thankful. He had privacy. Opening his desk, he sorted through the various papers and items, sadly deciding that there wasn't a whole lot that he'd be taking with him. No family pictures from his desktop. No gag gifts from coworkers. No knick-knacks. Just a bunch of pens and notepads and a book of poetry he read during downtimes. He wouldn't be sticking around long enough to say proper good-byes to some of his coworkers and he was sad about that, but he wanted out as soon as he could. After finishing a few more tasks around the office, he sat in the chair outside Nealson's office and waited.
"You're early, Tanner," Nealson grumbled upon seeing the young man.
Vin just stood and replied, "Yup."
"You have your version of things from the ATF bust ready?" the supervisor asked without even looking at Vin.
"Right here, sir," Vin replied. "Along with some other paperwork for ya," he added.
Nealson took the papers from Vin and quickly took the report and put it onto his desk, not even bothering to read it. He looked up sharply at Vin, then, having read the transfer notice.
"You can't transfer!" he exclaimed.
"Too late, I already did," the ex-Marshal replied. "As of," he continued, looking at his watch, "right now, I no longer work for you. Check the signatures, you'll see it's true. Have a nice day," he finished, walking out the door.
Walking back into the outer office, he saw Banks sit down at his desk.
"Hey, EJ?" he called. "See ya around," he said with a smile, continuing to head for the exit.
He turned to watch Banks' face turn from confusion to absolute anger as black ink started running down his white shirt. Then he headed for the parking lot and his new job.
Vin had been given a proper welcome by his new coworkers. They made him buy the coffee and donuts that morning. He didn't mind. He felt as if he were already a part of the family, something he hadn't felt in a long time. He'd even told him about his last laugh on Banks. JD got a mischievous look in his eye and Buck cuffed him on the back of his head, telling him not to even go there.
They still had to do a lot of paperwork and interviews from yesterday's bust, so they had to cut the welcome party short. But Vin didn't mind. He'd had to go on the official tour of the office with the people from personnel and get his payroll and benefits paperwork handled, anyway. And Chris had given him a shit-load of paperwork about ATF policies and procedures to read, but told him that he had plenty of time to get through it. Most of it would be handled hands on, anyway.
Josiah and Chris came back to the office after re-interviewing Donny Jacobs, Dwayne Parker's second at the bust. They had serious looks on their faces.
"Vin still with personnel?" the team leader asked.
"Yeah," Buck replied, seeing the unease in Chris's eyes. "What's up?"
Chris sighed, replying, "We just got some info on that van that tried to take him out."
"What kind of info?" Vin asked from the doorway, overhearing the conversation.
Chris turned abruptly, surprised at the new agent's presence.
"You were right. You were set up," Josiah replied. "Nealson was working with Parker. Jacobs said that once the Marshals took him into custody, Nealson would find a way to cut him loose. In exchange, Parker arranged the hit."
"So, what are we waitin' for?" Buck asked. "Let's go get the bastard."
Vin just stood there silent, not believing that he finally had proof. Proof against one of them, anyway.
"What about Banks? Did he mention his involvement?" he asked.
Chris shook his head.
"I want 'em both," Vin said flatly. "Banks is just as much into this as Nealson, if not more. You grab Nealson, though, and Banks is gonna disappear. He's too smart to stick around."
"Okay, then, let's work this out with the bosses," Chris said. "See if we can set something up."
"You're forgetting the other part, Chris," Josiah put in.
"What other part?" Vin asked, eyeing Chris suspiciously.
"The hit's still out on you," he replied. "Parker's out. Nealson's holding him to the deal."
"So, let's go get Parker," Vin responded.
"Oh, no, Vin," Chris admonished. "You're not going anywhere. We'll handle this."
"But you don't know what's goin' on, who the players are," the new ATF agent responded. "You say you want to get the bosses involved, but you don't even know which ones may already be involved!" he added.
"Boy's got a point," Buck put in.
Chris sighed and looked at Vin first and then at the rest of the team, seeing them nod in agreement.
"Alright," he relented. "In the conference room. Let's see what we've got pending and find a way to keep our new acquisition," he said, looking at Vin.
Vin hung back as Chris followed the others toward the floor's conference room. Chris stopped and turned, waited for the young agent. He looked at Vin's face, saw the mixed emotions in his eyes.
"I never did get to thank ya proper like," Vin said quietly. "Gettin' the transfer for me, takin' me onto your team. Means a lot to me. And the guys have been great," he added looking toward the conference room.
"Like I said last night, I think you'll do right by us," the ATF leader responded. "The boys and me, we know what's on your record, good and bad - but we weren't there, so we can't make any judgements on it. What we saw yesterday at that bust, and what we'll see from today on. That's where you're gonna make or break yourself with us."
"Thanks. I won't let ya down," the sharpshooter responded.
EJ Banks paced the office.
"So what's gonna happen now?" he asked. "Parker's man was supposed to take him out!"
"And you were supposed to finish the job if he couldn't," Nealson retorted.
"He'd already run off with those damn ATF guys," Banks said defensively. "I couldn't get him without being seen."
"Fine, then we'll just have to trust Parker to finish the job on his own," the older man said.
"Couldn't finish the job the first time," Banks snorted.
"If you want a job done right," Nealson began, getting a glare from Banks.
"Fine! I'll give Parker another chance," the younger Marshal ceded. "What's his next plan?"
"I believe he'll have a few welcome home presents waiting for Tanner at his apartment this afternoon," Nealson said with a smile.
The others listened intently to the conversation their leader was having on the phone. Having heard only Chris's half of it, though, they were not sure if he was going to have good news for them or not. Finally, he hung up the phone.
"Okay, gentlemen," Chris began.
"And Buck," JD added.
"And Buck," Chris continued, nodding to his old friend, smiling at the dirty look he got. "Assistant Director Travis gave us the go ahead to go after Nealson and Banks. But only because Nealson was tied to Parker who was buying guns from us. Took a bit of finagling, as you heard, to convince him not to let the Marshal's office handle it internally-,"
"But the former judge owes Mr. Larabee a favor or two," Ezra put in for Vin's benefit.
"One way of putting it," Chris agreed. "Anyway, Team four is going to take over our current caseload with the exception of the last bust. Josiah, I want you to question Donny Jacobs again. See if he'll sign a sworn statement about Parker and Nealson's partnership. See if he can come up with any other names or descriptions of people involved. JD, Buck. I want you to go over Nealson and Banks' personnel files. Find out any other connections they may have. When they started working together, whereYou know the drill. Nathan and Ezra I want you two to start tracking down Dwayne Parker. I don't want him brought in yet, just find him. Go over his file again. Check with NCIC again. Make sure you get an up to date criminal history. Then find out if Banks or Nealson were involved with any of his prior arrests."
The five men, assignments gotten, stood to begin their tasks.
"What about me?" Vin asked, not wanting to be left out of his own case.
"Well, first, you and me are going to sit down and figure out why the hell they've got a hit out on you in the first place," Chris replied.
"Damned if I know," he said shaking his head. "I just mind my own business. Never got into all that office politic stuff. Just tryin' to do my job."
"Maybe that's it," the blond man said. After seeing Vin's confused look, he continued, "Just doin' your job might have been interfering with whatever schemes Nealson and Banks had going."
"I reckon," the younger man said thoughtfully. "I was kinda by the book."
Chris raised an eyebrow to that remark.
"Well when it came down to keepin' the bad guys and sendin' 'em to jail once I caught 'em," he qualified.
"In other words, you didn't let anybody off for good behavior," Chris translated.
"Yeah," Vin said.
"Okay, Vin. Next, we'll need to make up a list of the players, good and bad," the team leader said getting out his notebook. "We know that there must be some higher ups there that know what Nealson's up to, maybe even getting kickbacks from him. Anybody up there that might be on your side? Someone able to get us inside information without alerting the bad guys?" he asked.
"I've got a few friends, but they're just grunts, like I was," the sharpshooter replied with a sigh. "Only other person I really knew was Miss Nettie."
"Miss Nettie?" Chris asked.
"Miss Nettie," Vin repeated, smiling at Chris's expression. "Nettie Wells, she's a secretary up in Payroll. She helps me out every now and then," he added quietly.
"Think she could still help you out?" Chris asked.
"How?" he asked.
"Checking on payroll records, of course," the veteran agent replied, an idea coming to mind. "See if anyone's gotten any recent bonuses."
"I don't know, Chris," Vin hesitated. "I don't like the idea of gettin' Miss Nettie involved in all this."
Chris, seeing the worry in Vin's eyes, conceded.
"Nobody else?" he asked, to which Vin shook his head. "Okay, next part of the job. Setting you up in a safe house."
"I can take care of myself," the former Marshal countered quickly.
"And I believe you. But as part of my team, you're gonna follow my orders," Chris retorted. "And the first place Parker and his boys are gonna look for you is -,"
"At my apartment," Vin finished, getting up quickly, fear in his eyes as he headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" Chris demanded.
"My apartment. I gotta keep the kids away from it," he replied from the door. "You comin'?" he asked impatiently, wanting to get there as soon as possible and knowing that his new boss wouldn't let him go alone.
Chris followed his new agent out the door and down the hall, asking, "Kids? What kids?"
Enroute to his apartment, Vin told Chris about his kids.
"Hector and some of the other older kids use my computer for their schoolwork," he explained. "Gina and Megan feed my fish every afternoon. When they get good grades or do a good job with the fish or whatever other chore they come up with, they get paid. Sometimes they get money. Sometimes we have a pizza and ice cream party or take trips to the parks or zoo. Keeps 'em off the streets and out of the gangs."
"A regular pied piper aren't you?" Chris remarked, driving into the neighborhood known as Purgatorio.
"You really live here?" he asked.
"Rent's cheap," Vin replied.
Chris pulled his truck up behind the school bus. Its red lights were still flashing as the children got off.
"Shit!" Vin cursed, jumping out of the truck before it even came to a complete stop. "Hector!" he shouted to the teen.
Hector looked at Vin's approaching form. He knew there was trouble.
"Hector! Get everybody together out back. Stay away from my apartment!" he ordered, heading into the building.
"Gina's already on her way!" the boy shouted back.
Chris followed Vin inside, but noted that the teen was already doing as Vin had told. He was silently amazed at his new agent. Hector hadn't even question his orders. Once in the building, Chris had trouble following, as Vin had been taking the steps three at a time.
Coming out of the stairwell, Vin caught sight of the eight-year-old, as she was about to enter the apartment.
"GINA!! NO!!!" he shouted, running toward her.
She had screamed in fright, never having been yelled at by her neighbor before. She let go of the doorknob as if it was on fire. Vin grabbed the frightened little girl up into his arms just as she did let go, twisted around and threw her to Chris, knowing that the ATF leader would be there to catch her. As the doorknob released and the door opened, the explosion rocked the hallway and Vin was thrown across the corridor. Despite the sounds of the explosion and of the screaming little girl in his arms, Chris winced as he heard the sickening sound of his new agent slamming sideways into the wall.
"VIN!!!" Chris shouted, looking up, still hugging the terrified little girl Vin had thrown to him.
All he could see of his agent were a few unmoving limbs under a pile of smoldering and splintered wood. Gina began struggling in his arms, screaming and crying for Vin and her mother. Chris looked at the little girl, made sure she was alright and released her.
"Go find your mother!" he told her, shooing her off toward the stairs. "I'll take care of Vin," he assured her.
"Vin?" he called as he made his way to the fallen agent. "Vin?"
Chris began removing the debris and uncovered Vin's head and shoulder. He reached in for his neck and felt for a pulse. He was relieved to find one. As he continued to uncover the sharpshooter, Chris pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911.
"This is ATF Supervising Agent Chris Larabee. I need an ambulance and a bomb squad to thirty-four South Seventh Street. I've got an officer down!" he told the dispatcher.
After making sure the 911 dispatcher had all the correct details, he hung up and made another call.
"Buck, it's Chris. Get over to Vin's apartment, NOW. Parker set explosives in his apartment. Yeah, he's hurt. An ambulance and the bomb squad are on the way. No, I'm fine," he told his old friend.
Before he could do anything else, Hector appeared at Chris's side, holding some towels.
"Is Vin gonna be okay?" the boy asked.
"I hope so, Hector," Chris replied, placing a towel against a bleeding wound on Vin's temple.
Hector followed Chris's example and finished clearing more debris from on top of Vin's body and placed another towel on a large cut on Vin's right arm.
"You must be Mr. Larabee," Hector said, looking at the blond man. "Vin told us about you last night."
"I'm him," Chris replied.
"Why would someone want to hurt Vin?" the boy asked.
"I don't know, Hector," the ATF agent replied with a sigh.
Before they could say anymore, the paramedics and two officers from the Denver Police Department arrived. Chris and Hector stepped back away from Vin and let the paramedics take over. Chris pulled out his ATF identification and showed it to the patrol officers before telling them what had happened and why. The entire time he spoke, though, he kept an eye on Vin.
He watched as the paramedics checked his fallen agent for injuries. They put a cervical collar around his neck and rolled him onto a backboard. They found his weapons and carefully gave them to Chris. They spoke to Vin, telling him what they'd be doing, hoping that he'd respond to their voices and actions. But all the while, Vin did not stir. Not when they put an airway up his nose and started the oxygen. Not when they immobilized his bruised and obviously dislocated shoulder. Not when they punctured his skin to insert the IV.
The bomb squad arrived as the paramedics were preparing to carry Vin out. Chris reluctantly stayed. He had to let them know what happened and also tell them that it was an ATF case - that anything they found out had better get to him. Then they kicked him out of the building.
He watched the ambulance doors close hoping that Vin would be okay. He was so lost in his thoughts of the new agent that he didn't even notice Buck's arrival. He jumped at the other man's touch on his shoulder.
"Shit, Chris. What happened?" Buck asked, seeing the dirt and blood on Chris's clothing and hands.
"Nealson's gonna go down," was all Chris said, turning to face his old friend.
"How bad?" the ATF agent asked.
"Bad enough," he replied shaking his head, recalling the scene inside the apartment building. "A little girl was ready to open his apartment door. Vin grabbed her and threw her to me, just before it detonated. He had blood all over him. He wouldn't wake up," he trailed.
Buck, seeing how Chris had been affected by the incident, said, "Why don't you go on to the hospital. I'll take care of things here."
Seeing that he wasn't going to win the argument with Buck, as unusual as that was, Chris agreed.
"Keep us informed," Buck said before heading over to one of the Denver PD patrol cars. "Buck Wilmington, ATF," Chris heard.
Chris followed the ambulance through the streets of downtown Denver, the red light on the dash flashing in his eyes. He didn't bother to put the cover on the back of it. He didn't care. All he knew was that an innocent little girl was almost killed and a good man was hurt badly because of one man. One man that was supposed to be a law enforcement officer. Yeah, Nealson was gonna go down. Hard. He watched as the ambulance began backing up into the emergency room entrance. Then he parked his truck nearby, putting his "Official Police Business" card on the dash. Fuck the tow away zone.