Title: Holiday Revenge (5/?)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Pairing: Pike/Archer, Kirk/McCoy
Summary: Sequel to Goodbye, Holidays. Events turn ugly, for Kirk’s enemy has found the perfect way to pay Kirk back for his meddling.
Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Part Five

“We’ve got a problem,” Jon says as he peers between the blinds covering the office window.

Liu joins him there. Seeing what Archer sees, her expression turns furious.

Jon releases the blinds, covering up the sight of several news vans unpacking their equipment in a nearby parking lot. “I take it you weren’t the one to tip them off.”

“You think I want this leaking so soon?” the woman snaps. She picks up the phone from her desk and punches in a number, saying, “I’ll handle it.”

Jon pities her. One can’t handle the vultures who call themselves reporters. By dinner time, every person in the city will know about Pike’s kidnapping. The attention could be useful if they receive tips that help in breaking open the case but as Pike is also a cop, it will become a heyday for conspiracy theorists and glory seekers. Jon doesn’t envy the staff, who will spend most of their time during the next few days manning the phones, wading through false leads, and blocking the press.

Worst-case scenario, the media attention pisses off the kidnappers.

No, he thinks, that’s not the worst-case scenario. The FBI are. No one is worse than a royally pissed government agent. Shit.

He leans back against the wall by the window, the stress headache that has been threatening to develop since morning finally taking over.

Liu pauses in yelling at someone over the phone (a news station director, Jon guesses) to ask, “Are you all right?”

“Could be better,” he replies.

She says tersely into the phone, “We will speak about this later, Mr. Garamond,” and hangs up before turning to Jonathan. “Archer, sit down before you fall down.”

“No thanks. This wall and I get along fine.”

“If you faint, you’re off the case.”

Grudgingly he abandons the wall and takes a seat, deadpanning, “So glad you’re concerned.”

“Did you eat the lunch Doreen brought in?” She waves away his answer prematurely. “Never mind. Of course you didn’t.”

“I had lunch,” he counters, indignant.

“Red Bull doesn’t count.”

Damn it. Someone had tattled. In his own office no one gave him shit about his habits. Of course that could be because over the years he had chased off the ones that did.

Liu’s assistant frames the doorway of the office. “Captain, the Chief Commissioner is on the line.”

Jon wisely keeps his mouth shut.

“Stall him as long as you can,” Liu tells Doreen.

Poor Doreen. Jon likes her. She’s so… motherly, and of course terrified for Chris. Jon spent a good twenty minutes trying to stop her crying into a handkerchief and blaming herself for making the assumption that everything was normal after Pike’s last check-in. Then she asked him about Jim—and Jon nearly cried.

Having Doreen pat his back comfortingly is the reason he has decided to woo the woman away from Liu someday soon and install her in his department. He will gladly listen to stories of her grandkids.

“Have you heard a word of what I just said?”

Jon blinks. “Huh?”

Liu holds up her forefinger and thumb. “Sheriff, I’m this close to sending you home.”

He takes great offense to that. “Captain, I’ve been in this game a long time. I can handle it.”

“Is that so?” Liu sits down and crosses her legs at the knees. “And when was the last time you had your lover kidnapped?”

Jon is thankful to be sitting down; for a second his vision fades out. The silence encompassing the office is tense.

“I thought you might know,” he mutters at last. “How long?”

“Chris told me a few weeks ago.”

Jon stares at her dumbly. Chris… Chris told her?

Liu crosses her arms over her chest. “Normally I don’t give a rat’s ass who’s dating whom but I had a hunch after those hours I spent talking to you about Kirk’s case.” She tilts her head. “So I followed up on it.”

In other words, he had been the one to give their relationship away, and Chris being an honest guy hadn’t disguised the truth. Had Liu’s hunch been born of a woman’s intuition, or was it simply a product of the fact that Jonathan had been so angry at the time that someone would hurt Pike’s kid he wasn’t able to hide his personal attachment?

Well, it can’t matter now.

He grips tbe arms of his chair. “Why did you bring me into this, Liu?”

“Why not? You are the Jonathan Archer, after all.”

Jon isn’t amused. “That’s bullshit and you know it—like that bullshit about me controlling Kirk. Obviously I fail at that, so what’s your real reason?”

“I said you care about Jim, not that I expected you to control him.” Liu leans forward slightly. “We could argue about this all day, Sheriff. There’s only thing I want you to do: find Pike. If you accomplish that, I will consider my choice—and my discretion—a win. I don’t,” she emphasizes, “want to come out of this regretting either. Understood?”

Women are confusing as hell. It’s like they speak another language and expect Jon to translate. But he heard something that matters to him, and that is the implied permission to do what he has to do to bring Chris home. He doesn’t plan to disappoint either Liu or himself on that front.

“Does your partner-up rule apply to consultants?”

“It does,” she replies.

“Then find me a partner. I’m useless cooped up like this.”

“Done.” When Jonathan reaches the door to her office, she wants to know, “Do you have somewhere particular in mind that you’re going?”

“Same place Chris did.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, then, “I sent Marcus to cover that,” as if Jon needs the reminder—or the warning.

Jon snorts. “Lt. Marcus isn’t me,” he replies, and leaves.

~~~

Partnering up does not mean, in Jon’s opinion, to assign him to a younger version of Gretchen Liu. Unfortunately that is exactly who Officer Marlena Moreau’s personality appears to be patterned after. The moment Jon has a slightly chauvinistic lapse in attitude, she not only shuts him down but shoves it back in his face too. By the time they are in a cruiser on the road, his headache has doubled from trying to figure out how breathing wrong might set her off again.

Eventually Moreau rolls her eyes. “I don’t bite,” she claims.

Jon keeps his gaze fixed on the view beyond the windshield. The downtown area of the city is cleaner than he remembers it, many of its old buildings restored. There are several new businesses that have cropped up sometime in the last decade and others he thinks he should recognize but doesn’t. His recent trips here have mainly been limited to picking up Pike’s take-out orders. Maybe he should have asked Chris to show him the town. Did Chris have the impression he wouldn’t consider living here?

His regrets seem to be piling up lately.

Because he is clueless concerning their surroundings and wanting to think of something other than his misery, he asks, “Where are we headed again?”

“Palmetto Row,” Moreau replies, switching the channel on her radio to receive a report from another officer more clearly. “String of robberies last month. Lt. Marcus was on the case.” She glances sideways at Jon as if to judge his reaction. “That is, he was until Detective Pike came back.”

Moreau makes that sound like a problem. Jon settles on a noncommittal noise. “Some rivalry exists between those two, I guess?”

Moreau returns her attention to the intersection ahead. “Rivalry isn’t the right term. Pike’s nothing but respectful to the Lieutenant. I don’t think he wants to take the work away from Alex. It just happens.”

“Because Pike is better at his job?”

“No!”

The vehemence of Marlena’s reaction surprises Jon.

It must surprise her too for she switches to a more objective tone of voice. “Pike is brilliant, everybody knows that, but there’s nothing wrong with Alex either. He trained Pike. He has decades of field experience and leadership. There’s no comparison.”

It sounds like Marcus might be grooming a new generation, or at least stacking the deck in his favor with the loyalty of the less experienced. Jon begins to wonder just how deeply this rift among colleagues has affected Chris. And why hasn’t Chris thought to mention it to him? Is there a breakdown in communication, an unwillingness to communicate, or simply that Chris doesn’t deem Jon worthy enough to know about his troubles?

Maybe, he reasons, swallowing hard, Chris considers him a passing amusement. He did make a fool of himself trying to squirm his way into Pike’s life.

Whatever their relationship really is, Jon won’t go back to pining. He’ll just… tell Chris up front that he loves him and wants to consider permanency.

Oh crap, who is Jon kidding? He can go in guns blazing into an officer’s worst nightmare but is an utter coward at falling in love.

Archer, you sad sack of a human being, he thinks.

“Sheriff?”

Jonathan realizes he once again has unwittingly tuned someone out. It’s beginning to worry him that he can’t focus on the job, especially this job.

“Sorry,” he apologizes to Moreau. “What did you say?”

“Do you think we’ll catch Kirk?”

“What?” he says more sharply.

Moreau drums her fingers against the steering wheel. “If we spot Kirk, we’re to report in. That’s what Cpt. Liu ordered.”

Jon bites back a curse. “We won’t see him,” he remarks, echoing Jim’s promise to him just before that grand escape.

For some reason Marlena doesn’t appreciate his answer. “Kirk has gone too far this time, interfering in a police investigation.”

Jon stares at the side of her head. “You thought he wouldn’t? Haven’t you people been locking him up since he was thirteen?”

“That’s… different,” Marlena replies. “It’s serious now. Not a kid’s game. Besides,” she tacks on, looking nonplussed at Archer, “I can’t speak to the past. I’ve only known Jim for four years.” She flushes, says, looking away again, “I used to think he was sweet. Kind of… a bad boy but sweet underneath. I never once thought he was crazy. Now I don’t know.”

Does no one at the precinct truly comprehend Jim’s level of commitment to Pike? Jon finds that strange, but then again maybe they have only seen it the other way around, how Pike bends over backwards to take care of an errant son.

Jon still can’t help but argue in Jim’s defense however. “If somebody took your father, you might go crazy too.”

The woman’s expression tightens. “I don’t have a father.”

Jon winces internally, deciding he would do better to stay quiet from now on. His foot loves his mouth too much.

Moreau seems to shake off the awkwardness, though, and returns to a brisker tone and the task before them. “I think we can narrow the time-frame between when Pike was likely taken and his car was moved outside city limits. Something that throw me off about the GPS history report that came back was the brevity of stops. Except for the garage where the car was stripped down, it kept moving.”

Jon applauds the fact she picked up on that. “It’s a lot more difficult to kidnap a moving target, which means the attack was probably beforehand. Hence why we’re heading to this Palmetto Row.”

“Do you think Pike was overpowered?”

“I think however he was taken the plan was coordinated and efficient. No room for error. Since the main element of risk would be a trained cop, the kidnapper had to know exactly where and how he could overtake his victim. He probably had tabs on Pike throughout the day. We’ll pinpoint the location and look for evidence, something to give us a connection to the kidnappers or, if we’re lucky, a direction in which to search.”

The woman’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “I’ll assist in any way I can, Sheriff. Fucking with one of our own means fucking with all of us. We’ll catch these bastards.”

Jon would love to apprehend the perp responsible and make him regret being born but he tells his temporary partner, “First priority is always the victim, Moreau. Recover the victim, then catch the bad guys.”

Marlena turns her to look at him. “If the victim’s still alive.”

Jon curbs his initial reaction, for that statement makes him panic inside. He hopes he sounds collected when he says, “We can’t afford to assume otherwise.”

Moreau blanches. “Sorry, I… I didn’t mean anything. I don’t want Pike to be…” The officer closes her mouth against the rest of that sentence.

Jonathan stares out the windshield without seeing anything. “It’s okay to think like a cop, kid. It’s who we are.”

Moreau doesn’t attempt to resume their conversation, and Jonathan has no inclination to.

He rests his eyes until Marlena says, “We’re here.”

The cruiser pulls into a public parking lot, and Moreau turns off the engine. Jon unbuckles his seat belt and climbs out, waiting tensely for his partner to join him.

While she reports their position, Jon surreptitiously checks a piece of paper he had shoved into a pocket. “We start at the pawn shop,” he tells her a moment later.

“Follow me, Sheriff.” Marlena leads the way across the parking lot and through a narrow alley.

Jonathan eyes a cat perched on a fire escape above their heads surveying the trespassers through his territory. To Jon’s right, a rotten door is partially caved in; further along, on either side of the alleyway, are the bolted back doors of the shops facing Palmetto Row.

Jon pauses at the mouth to the alley to survey the street. Moreau moves ahead to the pawn shop, calling in bemusement, “Aren’t we going in?”

“Yeah,” Jon murmurs, “we are.” He doesn’t dare glance back again as he pushes through the shop door because that might tip off Moreau to the idling vehicle across the road.

It’s Spock’s SUV.

~~~

The owner of the pawn shop is not pleased. “Too many cops lately,” he complains as Jon and Marlena hold up their badges. “What do you want?”

Jon starts off with “So just how many cops have you talked today?”

The man frowns and looks around behind them. “Just one.”

“Marcus,” Marlena says.

“Mm,” responds Jon, moving on. “Actually, sir, we’re here about a buddy of ours we think might have passed through here yesterday. Nice guy for a cop, very polite, very handsome.”

Moreau is looking at him strangely.

The owner is not. “Oh, that Pike fellow? Detective Pike?”

“That’s the one.”

“I liked him.”

Me too, Jon doesn’t say. “We’re just following up.” He grins and leans in to whisper as if giving away a secret, “Performance reviews, you see.” He points to Moreau. “My partner has a few questions for you.” He waits a beat. “Mind if I look around the back, double check to see if he asked all the right questions?”

The owner blinks, shrugs, and mutters something that Marlena leans in to hear.

Whistling as he goes, Jon strides down the main aisle, noting the one or two other patrons in the shop. A hooded figure standing in front of a display of gaming consoles up ahead of him grows very still. Jon brushes past the guy nonchalantly, saying, “Whoops, excuse me.” At the last second he snatches the back of the man’s hoodie, towing his quarry quickly through the back area of the shop.

Finding a door to a bathroom, Jon pitches them both inside and slams the door shut, locking it.

Jim rips back his hood to reveal his most defiant expression yet.

Jon wrenches the man forward and closes his arms around him. “I’m going to kill you, Kirk,” he growls, and nope that’s a quaver in his voice at all.

“You might kill me if you don’t let me breathe.”

Jon shoves the kid back and sticks his traitorous hands into his armpits. Dumb things, they screwed him up. Hugging Jim was not his initial plan!

Jim appears a little confused as well. “You aren’t angry?”

“I am,” Jon says with sincerity. “I’m livid.”

Jim eyes him. “You look like you’re going to cry.”

Archer mutters, “Got something in my eye,” and switches the conversation to a more important topic. “How did you know to come here?”

Jim’s gaze slides sideways.

Jon stifles a sigh. “The case file… Did you copy it or memorize it?”

“Bones wouldn’t let me make copies. He said that’s stealing confidential information.”

Thank god somebody of the duo has common sense. “How far down this street have you been?” Who could have seen you? he wants to ask, anxious, but doesn’t.

Jim rubs his nose. “This is the last one. Worked backwards.”

Interesting. Jon is doing the opposite. Which order did Pike choose?

“Find anything?” he questions in a milder tone, like they’re discussing the weather.

Jim takes his opponent’s measure.

“Share,” Jon prompts more seriously, “or discover what happens when I start screaming, ‘I found Kirk!'”

Jim looks a touch fearful. “Marlena’s out there.”

“Yeah, and from what I can tell I think the highlight of her day would be to chase you down and put you in cuffs.”

“It really would.” Jim shifts on his feet. “We, uh, went on a few dates.”

Jon is interested despite himself. “Did she break up with you, or the other way around?”

Jim’s look is answer enough. “She wasn’t the one, you know? Plus I was finishing up college, didn’t have time to visit much. I thought we could do casual, no strings attached. She disagreed.”

Jon sympathizes.

Jim’s look turns serious. “Dad doesn’t know. I don’t want it to be awkward for him because of a mistake I made.”

Archer mimes zipping his mouth shut.

Jim ducks his head a little, stares at something in the corner of the bathroom. Then he rouses himself and remarks tentatively, “I might have something. I was going to check it out but then you showed up.”

Jon will gladly accept this olive branch. “Where? In the shop?”

Jim shakes his head. “The guy who works behind the counter—not the manager—he said he remembered Dad. He said he was putting out new product in the front window when Dad left and saw Dad get into his car. But then—”

Jon tenses.

“—Dad got out the car again and took off past the pawn shop in a hurry.”

“And after?” Jon asks softly.

Jim shakes his head. “He didn’t see anything after that. Joe had to leave the window after a while to run the register.”

Jon rocks back on his heels slightly, thinking. “Did this Joe give you an estimate of how long he was at the front of the store?”

Jim says regretfully, “I didn’t think to ask that.”

Jon claps him on the shoulder. “No worries, kiddo, you did good.” Then he smiles—and drops his hand to fish something out of Kirk’s jacket pocket before Jim can react.

Holding up a badge with Officer Carlos’s name on it, he tsks. “You want a real badge? Go to the real Academy. In the meantime, I’m just gonna keep this safe for you.” Jon tucks the badge away into his own pocket.

Jim crosses his arms over his chest.

“Don’t pout,” Jon says. “Here’s our plan.”

Jim demands, “Why do you get to make the plan?”

“Because I’m older and wiser and hold the key to your freedom right now.”

Jim frowns. “I’ll just run away again.”

Jon’s grin has sharp edges. “Is that what you did? Anyway, I said ‘our’. Pay attention. I can take care of Marlena, so once we’re gone, slip out to the alley next to here. I will circle back around and meet you there.” He pauses before stressing, “Wait for me, Jim. You got that?”

Jim considers it for a little too long before nodding.

Jon knows he won’t receive more reassurance from Jim other than that so he simply leaves, shutting the bathroom door firmly behind him. Striding back into the main area of the pawn shop, he leans against the counter with what he likes to think of as roguish charm.

Marlena frowns at him. “What’s the matter? Do you need to use the bathroom?”

Jon uncrosses his legs at the ankles and straightens up. “No,” he answers a tad sourly.

“Oh. Find anything?”

Maybe he would have if he hadn’t been busy hugging his mortal enemy. “Camera’s broken on the far aisle.” Thank goodness for the pilfered case notes. Unlike Kirk, he had photocopied what he needed. “Are there any other cameras, maybe outside?”

“No,” the owner says.

Jon steps up to his partner. “I think we have all that we need. Thank you for your time.”

Moreau closes her notepad and follows him outside.

At the door to the next shop of their list, he says too brightly, “Oh, look, we can do two at once!” making use of the fact that the third victim from Pike’s case is another shop two doors down. “You take this one, and I’ll just—”

“The Captain said don’t split up.”

“You don’t do everything Liu says,” he reasons.

Moreau’s expression implies that, yes, actually she does.

Archer rubs his forehead. He hates what he is about to do, but he can already see Jim peeking around the pawn shop door from the corner of his eye. “Listen, Moreau, I’ll be honest…” What he means is that he is about to lie to the utmost of his ability. “I don’t know that we have time to spare arguing about this. There’s reason to believe we’re on a clock.”

Moreau pales. “By a clock, you mean…?”

“Pike’s life is on the line,” he tells her, “and every minute that passes brings us closer to a deadline we don’t want to miss. I can tell you don’t feel… kindly towards Pike…”

“I never said that!” she exclaims, looking distressed. “It’s Jim I’m mad at!” The woman, catching her slip, quickly regains control. “You’re wrong. I want Chris back alive too. What can I do to help?”

“Get us through this questioning as quickly as possible.”

The woman lifts her chin slightly. “I will, Sheriff.”

They part ways.

Jonathan practically runs around the Row and back up the other side. He finds Jim skulking in a shadow between the fire escape and an abandoned stack of cardboard boxes.

Jim says as soon as a winded Jonathan arrives, “I asked the guy how long. He said ten minutes, fifteen at most. When he left the shop at six o’clock, the cop car was gone.”

Jon thinks about that.

Watching Jon, Jim wants to know, “What does it mean?”

“A cop takes off on foot without calling in his position for one of two reasons: the danger to a civilian is imminent and requires immediate action, or he is shocked into forgetting protocol.”

“Or he doesn’t give a shit about protocol,” Jim points out.

“Not if we’re talking about Pike.” Jon rubs thoughtfully at his chin. “How many stores are past this alley?”

“Four.”

“What’s around the corner of the intersection?”

Jim frowns. “A department store.”

“And what’s behind us?”

“The highway.”

Jon slaps his hands together. “Then we’re in luck.”

Kirk shifts on his feet, obviously wanting to know what that means but not wanting to ask.

“This narrows down the scenarios considerably. Think of it like this: a uniformed officer always draws attention wherever he goes. If you’re planning to kidnap him, how do you avoid winding up on the national media?”

“Get him alone,” Jim answers immediately.

“Exactly, my little grasshopper. Under perfect conditions, you would have a private location with limited escape routes and quick access to transportation. Preferably sound-proofed but that’s pushing things.”

Jim has stopped breathing. “Like… this place, you mean.”

“Right again. However,” Jon reaches for Jim preemptively to detain him, “what’s likely isn’t necessarily what is true. We need to verify a few things first.”

Jim’s eyes are darting around the alleyway.

“Kirk, you with me?” he calls.

“Yeah,” Jim says slowly. “Verify what?”

“Foremost, that no one else saw Pike on the other side of this alley. Then we determine who owns what. Public property isn’t a problem, but we can’t trespass on private property to investigate without probable cause.”

Jim stares at him. “What if you’re in pursuit of a criminal?”

Jon doesn’t even have to think about that. “No.”

“But…”

“No, because then I’d have to tell someone who that criminal is and why I’m chasing him. Do you really want to end up in jail?”

“I don’t care.”

“Sure you do if it limits your ability to find your father.”

Kirk closes his mouth.

Jon moves closer to him. “This is no time to lose your head, Kirk. Agree to do it my way, and I swear I will keep us both in the game.” He waits more nervously than he anticipated for Jim’s answer.

Jim slides his hand to Jonathan’s wrist but rather than breaking their connection, his fingers tighten there. “We do it your way but use my resources.”

Damn. Checkmate. “Deal,” Jonathan agrees, resigned to the fact that it probably won’t be long before he regrets this decision.

Jim breaks Jon’s hold on him, then, shoving his hands into his hoodie’s pockets and turning away. “I want to search here.”

Well, at least that is a request and not a demand. Jon will take what he can get, especially since he understands that Jim isn’t exactly thrilled about following someone else’s orders.

“We’ll get there. For now, I would appreciate it you could circle the block, look for other exits, back-streets, private drives. Anywhere to park a van to load a body.”

Silence reigns briefly before Jim asks, his question eerily flat, “Do you think he’s dead, Sheriff?”

The question is a painful one, something Jon has purposefully avoided thinking about too deeply since he found Pike’s cruiser stripped bare in the woods.

“No,” he says, working to keep his voice even, “I don’t. I think he’s making his own plan to get free. You know how Chris hates being the damsel-in-distress.”

A soft sound comes from Jim, not quite a choked sob but not a sound of relief either.

Jon is compelled forward, ready to lower a hand to the young man’s shoulder and say something funny but comforting like nobody can defeat a Super Dad like Pike when he is jerked away by his jacket from behind. An arm winds around his neck and presses there, blocking his ability to breathe fully.

Adrenaline bursts through Jon’s veins at the same time his ingrained training kicks in. But his elbow finds air instead of an exposed stomach; his foot stomps the ground instead of an instep; and the arm around tightens painfully to immobilize his head.

Archer makes a half-yell, half-gurgle as black spots begin to dance at the edge of his vision. Kirk spins around at the sounds of the scuffle—and freezes.

Jon flings his hand back and wrenches at his assailant’s hair like he’s in a schoolyard fight. In response, Jon is lifted off his feet. “No!” Jim cries at the same time. For a second Archer has the weird sensation of being airborne; then the world turns end over end and Jon finds himself flat on his face on the pavement.

The hand now planted at the back of his neck is quite unnecessary. Jonathan isn’t going anywhere. He thinks he is dying, or at least has broken a lot of very important pieces to his skeletal structure.

Voices come from above him, exclaiming with a sense of urgency. A weight lifts off Archer’s back, and he can suddenly breathe again. He turns his head to the side. A face appears, McCoy’s.

“Are you okay?” McCoy asks.

Jon can’t help that his laugh is tinged with hysteria. He slurs, “D’you catch the n’mber of tha’bus?”

“We call that bus Spock,” Leonard replies grimly. His voice grows grimmer as he helps Jon roll over. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Jon blinks up at the sky. He sees no fingers. Is that bad?

Jim bends over him.

“I see a Kirk,” he murmurs.

Now Jim looks concerned. Weird.

After McCoy is done patting Archer down and declaring him to be mostly unharmed, both Kirk and McCoy help him to his feet. Jonathan meets the gaze of his attacker. Spock stares back without any hint of repentance for having thrown an old man over his shoulder.

Jon rubs his throat, feeling the phantom press of an arm there. “I think Mr. Spock needs a leash.”

The man in question looks to Jim. “Are you unharmed?”

Jim presses his mouth into a thin line. “I’m fine but… Spock, is there a reason you assaulted my father’s boyfriend?”

Leonard turns his head sharply in Kirk’s direction but doesn’t say anything. Jon blinks in stupefaction.

Spock’s menacing presence subsides just a bit under Kirk’s gaze. “Jim, by all appearances Sheriff Archer was attempting to restrain you. I thought—” He stops speaking momentarily, then says with more caution, “I see now I was incorrect in my assumption.” To Jonathan, slowly, “I apologize.”

“Huh.” Jon clears his throat, then, remembering to say, “Forgiven.” Jesus on a cracker, what kind of friends does Kirk have that when they think he is being arrested, they would recklessly attack the law?

As though fighting to speak the words, Leonard interjects, “It was an honest mistake. We freaked out when we saw Archer and that police woman, and then when…” He trails off, shaking his head. “I’m on Spock’s side. Better to protect you first, ask questions later. Although,” here he eyes the tall, dark-haired man, “Spock could have been a little less violent in his approach.”

“My actions were hardly violent,” Spock says, clearly affronted. “I was aiming to incapacitate the sheriff, not permanently disable him.”

“It feels like the latter,” Jon disagrees.

Jim sighs, tucks his chin down and closes his eyes. When he opens his eyes again, the air about Kirk is resigned. He turns to Archer. “I take responsibility.”

Jon drops his hand from where he had been massaging the juncture between his shoulder and neck. “For what?” he asks, surprised.

“Any harm done.” Jim’s eyes hold his. “When you tell my father, let him know it’s my fault.”

“Jim,” Spock and McCoy protest at the same time.

“It’s true,” Jim states. “Spock, you don’t trust Archer because of me. I know that. I should have made it clear to you—all of you—that my personal feelings about him are irrelevant. He matters to Dad; therefore we can’t treat him like an enemy even if we don’t treat him like a friend. I will be the one to decide if Archer steps out of bounds, and I will be the one to handle him.”

“Now hold on, Kirk,” Jonathan says, because there is no way this conversation is happening around him. “You made some assumptions on your own I can’t agree with. First of all, I’m not telling your father about this. No way, no how. As of this moment, your pseudo-boyfriend over there didn’t just dump me on my head, capisce? Second, you can’t take responsibility for someone else’s actions unless they actually report up to you, and third—” He can hardly believe he is about to say this. “—Spock and McCoy can rescue you any time they like. What, oh, looks like Big Bad Archer is about to eat little Red Riding Hood Kirk? Fine, knock me on my ass. I am okay with that.” He swallows a sigh. “I can’t promise to always be the good guy, Jim, not even under extenuating circumstances like where we find ourselves now. And as much as it pains me to say this, you are a good guy. So let your friends save you if they think they have to.”

Jim just stares at him.

Feeling like he has sufficiently embarrassed himself, Jonathan tugs down his jacket. “Let’s get this show on the road, kiddos. Moreau is going to nail my ass to a parking sign if I don’t show up where I’m supposed to be.” He heads for the mouth of the alley, pausing by Jim’s friend’s shoulder to say, “Word to the wise, Mr. Spock. Don’t park on the street when the cops are looking for you.”

Tipping an imaginary hat to the little posse behind him, Jon leaves, knowing Kirk will update Spock and McCoy on what to do next.

~~~

Moreau exits the shop Archer should have been investigating with the expression of someone who has realized she has been deceived.

Jon lifts his hands, palms outward, as he approaches her. “I had something to check on,” he begins.

She shoves a notepad into his chest. “Is this what you were looking for?”

Jon peels the pad off his chest and skims her neat handwriting. “A camera?” he notes, glancing up sharply.

“Positioned on the entrance but with a partial view of the street.” Marlena opens her hand to reveal a USB stick. “I copied yesterday’s footage.”

“Marlena, you’re amazing!” he cries. But he sees he won’t be so easily forgiven.

The woman takes a long step back. “You lied to me, Sheriff. Why?”

If Jon doesn’t answer correctly, Moreau will tell her captain she lost track of him regardless of their little pact. Liu will either string him up by the heels or cut him out of the investigation. He knows which he would prefer.

Marlena firms her mouth at his silence and pushes past him.

Jon pivots to catch her arm. “I saw Kirk.”

Moreau freezes momentarily before very slowly turning to face him again. “Jim?” she says.

“I thought I did,” he explains. “Corner of my eye kind of thing. It was some punk in a hoodie. I caught up to him in the alley.”

“But it wasn’t Kirk?”

Jon winces and makes a show of touching the scraped skin along his jaw, courtesy of his meeting the pavement earlier. “One mistake led to another and I got thrown on my ass. So if you think I wasn’t going to tell you what I was doing, you’re right. I am beyond embarrassed right now.”

Her expression loses some of its sharpness as she studies his appearance. “Are you all right? Should I call in?”

“Don’t, please. I know I’m not young anymore, Moreau, just like I know it’s foolish to hang on to pride, but I would rather not have to do a walk of shame back to your station. Can you understand?”

Eventually the woman sighs. “Sheriff, everyone gets thrown on their ass at some point. The training I went through at the Academy made for some of the worst experiences of my life. There are men who still think a woman shouldn’t be on the force, and they would humiliate me whenever possible. If you think being older sets you up for ridicule, try being female.”

He releases her. “You remember their names?”

“What?”

“The son-of-bitches who got their panties up in a twist because their real balls don’t measure up to your metaphorical ones,” Jon explains. “I may have one foot in the grave, but I still have some clout. Give me their names. I’ll take care of the rest.”

For some reason she laughs. “I didn’t think you were funny until now.”

He smiles, uncertain. “Was I joking?”

“No,” Marlena decides, “I don’t think you were.” Taking her notebook back, she flips it open to a list, scratching off two names. “We have one place left.”

He glances behind her to the stores on the other side of the alley, and he remembers his promise to Kirk. Granted, if Jon didn’t come through, Jim would still find a way to wheedle information out of people without a badge that doesn’t belong to him, but Jon doesn’t want him in the position of breaking any more laws.

He comes to a decision. “Are you open to an idea?” he asks his partner.

She looks up from her notepad. “Sure. Tell me.”

“That hunch we were talking about earlier, that Pike never made it off this street. This cam you found might give us the answer for certain but processing the evidence to review the footage will take time. What if we corroborate eyewitness accounts instead? We know he came this far by nature of his case. How about finding out just how far he went?”

“That sounds smart to me.”

Jon hopes Jim, Leonard, and Spock are well-hidden in the alley as he turns Moreau in that direction. “Glad you think so, doll.”

“Call me doll again and I’ll punch you.”

Jon winces and laughs a little. “Sorry, bad habits.”

Moreau snorts. They start along the sidewalk, catching the eyes of a few passers-by. When they cross the mouth of the alley without the world imploding, Jonathan breathes a sigh of relief.

Then he rubs at the back of his neck, oddly feeling as if he is being watched. It must be Kirk, he supposes, ready and waiting for some signal of when to join the game.

If Jon is honest with himself, a large part of him wants to send Kirk and his friends on harmless assignments, keep them ensconced on the sidelines at a safe distance. But Jon thinks of Jim’s flat inquiry if he thought Pike was dead and acknowledges that, if the worst happens, the only way to salvage Kirk will be the reminder that Jim did everything possible to rescue his father. He simply can’t set the boy up to fail or to die.

Pike will have to forgive Jon for this decision, somehow.

A buzzing in Jon’s pocket draws his attention to his cell phone. When he activates the screen, he sees he has a text message waiting to be read.

The message says: Use this number. Spock’s private line.

Tears spring to Archer’s eyes. Jim Kirk has finally decided to trust him.

~~~

Kor is as sensible as he claims to be, which is not praise Chris usually gives to someone so cold-blooded. But he can see, as he outlines what he insists is their best shot at throwing the city police off their trail, that Kor is not simply a whimsical opportunity seeker. He understands the value of planning for every eventuality.

Marcus watches Chris closely as the conversation progresses, giving Chris the sense that Alex is trying to figure out his angle. Chris can only hope Marcus never does, for that will surely destroy the last illusion of trust between them.

And Pike needs Marcus whether he wants to admit it or not. Marcus is the key to exposing this whole charade.

“I like this plan,” Kor states, following a thoughtful consideration. He cranes his head in Marcus’s direction. “Objections, Lieutenant?”

Marcus’s gaze remains fixed on Chris.

The faint smile gracing Chris’s face never changes. Marcus always did claim that Chris had the best poker face among his pupils, something Chris now feels certain Alex regrets about him very much.

“How about it, Alex?” he prompts. “Any objections?”

“Explain one thing,” Marcus says. “Why me?”

Chris raises his eyebrows. “Betrayal succeeds best in the hands of the unexpected. Didn’t you just teach me that?”

Kor roars, his unrestrained laughter causing even the most stoic of the thugs to chuckle.

Marcus’s jaw shifts like he might be grinding his teeth, but he agrees, “I’ll do it.”

“Impressive,” Kor congratulates Pike. “Most impressive, Detective.” He looks turns sly as he observes their other companion. “Perhaps the lesson of betrayal has been taught too well.”

Marcus states, “Chris won’t betray me,” his voice implying, he wouldn’t dare.

Chris suppresses his anger. “Exactly. Why would I bother? As Alex has said, some things demand more than honor can provide.”

Kor sobers all of a sudden. “And what do you require that honor would deny you?”

“Revenge,” Chris replies, his tone hardening. “The only part where my colleague and I differ is the word.” They know he is speaking to Alex, though his words are directed at Kor. “I want revenge, not something so useless as justice. To be more specific… my gun against Nero’s head.”

“That’s murder,” Marcus interjects. His scrutiny of Pike intensifies. “Are you saying you will kill the man yourself?”

Pike steps forward. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. For touching my son, Nero dies.”

Kor murmurs in approval, “Now I see why Lt. Marcus chose you.”

“So do I.” Chris locks his gaze onto Marcus’s. “I’ll consider this opportunity the payment for betraying me.” He allows for a brief pause, then continues, “Time to tell the absolute truth, Alex. Will you help me do this or not?”

Alex nods once. “Yes, I will.”

“Good.” Pike relaxes his body, tucking his hands into his pants pockets like there’s nothing more to worry about. “As a show of trust, I’ll tell you where I keep my spare gun. Once you have it, you know what to do. Rumors can be leaked to the press, which should keep the Captain busy trying to explain to the Feds why the evidence points to me staging my own kidnapping. That should be when we hear from Nero, who I don’t doubt will want to make some truth of those headlines.”

“I will gladly explain it to him.” Kor’s eyes darken with a kind of triumphant glee. “I shall say I caught you in the act of infiltrating his organization. As he already knows I have spies there, he will believe me. Yes, this plan should work very nicely to our advantage.”

“The only catch being,” Marcus remarks coolly, “that Chris will effectively end his career in the fallout. You said you want your bullet in Nero’s skull, Chris? That will put you on trial and by then the evidence should be damning. Now it’s your turn to tell me truthfully. Can you do this, even if it means losing your son’s faith in you in the process?”

“I would rather lose him like this than to a weapon in another man’s hands.”

Ironically, Chris hears the echo of truth in his lie.

If the plan beneath the plan works, Nero will be gone, two networks of gangs uprooted and exposed, and the department rid of its rotten core. More importantly, Jim will be able to live without looking over his shoulder for the next attack; he won’t lose sleep for worrying over the safety of his friends and family.

What doesn’t matter to Chris is that by the end of it all, he could come out looking like a bad guy despite his real objectives. If not a bad guy, in some form or another a price will still be demanded of him: the respect of his peers, the trust of his family, the recent happiness he has discovered with Jonathan, his career, even his freedom. The requirement of this game is the willingness to sully himself for a greater cause.

Chris is ready to do it.

In finally acknowledging that truth, he begins to wonder if murder wouldn’t be such a long step away from his reasoning after all.

Looking at Marcus, a man who has sullied himself beyond redemption, Chris has the answer. Death comes down to a matter of perspective. Murder to some; justice to others.

Don’t tempt yourself anymore, he tells himself. Let this be enough.

His only comfort is that, whatever happens, Jim and Jon can survive without him. Jim isn’t alone in the world anymore; he has many people who care about him. And Jonathan would take Jim under his wing, thereby inviting all Jim’s friends along with Jim, which would keep Jon from being lonely too.

Warmed by these thoughts, a genuine smile comes to Pike’s face.

Kor clasps Pike’s forearm, saying, “Brother, welcome to our family,” no doubt taking the smile as a sign that Chris has completely embraced his need for revenge.

“Thank you, Brother,” Chris replies in turn, ready to let the world believe no different.

Next Part

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• Holiday Revenge (12/13) – from January 19, 2017
• Holiday Revenge (11/13) – from January 8, 2017
• Holiday Revenge (10/12) – from January 5, 2017
• Holiday Revenge (9/12) – from January 3, 2017

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