“Alright,” Taro agreed. “But please, don’t kill anyone else.”

"Okay, kid,” Ryker slighted, not even bothering to hide his obvious ill intent. “Let me have them, now.” Surprisingly, Taro reached behind him. Nole hadn’t planned on Taro being armed, and neither had Ryker apparently. “Hey!” The gun immediately shifted toward Taro, and Nole was shoved to the ground as Ryker made his move forward.

Armed or not, Nole wouldn’t allow the opportunity to slip by. Quickly getting to his knees, he felt around his left pocket for the switchblade. The desperation hung over him like a dark cloud. Whether it was the pain or the stakes at hand, fumbling the weapon out of his pocket felt like it was taking an eternity.

Finally!

His triumphant moment of unsheathing the blade was short lived, because a millisecond later, a gunshot rang out inside the confined lobby. Whipping his head toward the presumed standoff, he saw only one person standing. Hovering over a fallen Taro, Ryker clenched his gun, the barrel still smoking from the fresh round.

Nole didn’t know where Taro was shot; he didn’t even know if he was still breathing. Seeing the boy lying defenseless on the floor, with a gun still pointed at him, a sudden fury enveloped Nole. They weren’t friends, or even acquaintances, yet the rage was building up inside of him.

Why?

Getting to his feet, the adrenaline pumping through him, he clutched the handle of the blade deeper into his palm.

Why am I so upset?

“You rotten kid,” Ryker spat at the boy lying at his feet. “Shouldn’t have bluffed.”

This guy doesn’t mean anything to me.

“I asked you one simple question!”

So why? Why do I feel like wind just got knocked out of me?

“You’re not dead yet, but I’m gonna make you wish you were.”

Not dead yet. Nole clung to the three words. This is my chance. I can’t waste it.

Desperately trying to calm himself enough to attack calculatingly, Nole was caught off guard when Ryker kneeled down beside Taro. Is he going to shoot again? Inching his foot forward, Nole watched as his enemy moved the gun to his left hand. Realizing that Ryker wasn’t planning on shooting Taro again, Nole breathed a silent sigh of relief as he shuffled another foot forward, and then another.

He couldn’t tell what Ryker was planning, and he didn’t have time to speculate. When he got within a few yards of Ryker, he could hear Taro’s pain-filled panting. Taking one more small step, he was finally able to get a clear look at the injury. A bloodied blotch on the right side of his cargo shorts confirmed that he’d been shot in the leg. The grotesque image wasn’t enough to stop Nole’s advance, but Ryker’s words were.

“Vale, if you get any closer, I'll shoot him dead.” Shocked by Ryker’s declaration, Nole stopped dead in his tracks and reflexively hid the switchblade from sight.

Did he see me? No, he didn’t mention the switchblade. He heard me then, Nole reasoned. Unable to move any further, he chastised himself for losing the option of a surprise attack. Maybe I should-

“W-wait,” Taro stammered, ending Nole’s scheming. “S-stay b-back.” The fact that he was conscious, let alone able to form complete sentences, displayed his determination.

Is he talking to me?

“Don’t worry, I want to help.” Ryker’s sinister tone was enough to call his purpose into question. Moving his free right hand over the gunshot wound, he clutched the boy’s leg like a vice grip, causing Taro to let out a blood-curdling shout. The sheer decibel-level of the tortuous scream made Nole clench his teeth in frustration. Wait. Nole reminded himself of Taro’s words.

I’m sorry.

“It seems I’ve located the entry point,” Ryker observed, maliciously releasing his grip. Grunts escaped Taro as he attempted to claw away from his foe.

I, I can’t wait. He’s going to kill him if I don’t do something. Although he was at least three yards away from Ryker, Nole decided that he couldn’t afford to hold off any longer. Even though Ryker still needed information about the whereabouts of the files, he didn’t rule out the man’s insane and irrational logic. The torture would inevitably cause Taro to pass out, and the chances of Ryker killing him on the spot were high.

“W-wait,” Taro panted, the pain evident in his voice. Unable to move his body, his arms shook fiercely. “Not, yet.” Sweat drenched his forehead, and the wavy blond locks stuck to his forehead. The deep blue color of his eyes seemed dull, and less vibrant than they had been. Although they were open, they didn’t look at Nole, who was in clear range of vision. He was refusing to look at him. It was as if he wanted to prevent his pain-stricken face from persuading Nole to act prematurely. “Wait,” he whispered once more.

Then when? Nole thought, frustrated with his predicament. The shock is going to set in soon, but you want me to wait?

“Sorry, but you’ve run out of time,” Ryker responded, thinking that the words were meant for him. “Yes, the bullet definitely went in around here.” His bloodstained hand lingered above the injury, as if relishing the moment. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it out for you.”

Nole could feel his face twisting into an expression of helpless frustration as he anticipated what would come next. The seconds passed like tens of minutes, but Nole stared intently at Taro, dying for any sign that he should attack. He’s the one going through hell, so why do I feel like I’m the one being tortured?

The crazed expression on their foe’s face didn’t show any signs of him ceasing his actions. I can’t, no, I won’t just stand by. I wasn’t there for mom, and I wasn’t there for Murphy. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as he clenched his teeth tighter.

I’m here now.

Shifting his eyes to Taro’s face once more, he noticed the boy staring at him. There was no signal in his hollowed expression, no raising of the brow, no mouthing of words. It was just a stare; a blank, emotionless stare. But Nole read the message loud and clear.

Returning his gaze to Ryker, he noticed the man’s thumb and pointer finger pinched together, imitating a crab. “Now bear with me, this is going to hurt, a lot.” Without hesitation, he drove his protruding fingers through the fabric of Taro’s pant leg and dug them deeper into the open wound.

Convulsing from the rush of pain, Taro let out an agonizing scream. Smacking his clenched fists against the porcelain, Ryker wriggled his hand like a key being jimmied into a lock. Nole didn’t underestimate the anguish Taro was going through for one second. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t afford to look away. He’d given Nole a clear indication that they would be on the offensive soon, so all Nole had to do was trust him. And he did.

As if on cue, Ryker leveraged himself from Taro’s seizing body and placed his gun-bearing hand alongside Taro’s injury. That’s it! Pulling the switchblade out, Nole lunged forward just as Taro’s hands restrained both of Ryker’s. Unable to fire the gun or remove his hand from the gunshot wound, Ryker became a sitting duck. In the final moments of Nole’s advance, the Sergeant turned his head toward Nole in anticipation of the attack.

Wrapping his left arm around his enemy’s neck, Nole pressed the edge of the blade against his neck. A small trickle of blood escaped the tiny puncture of the blade’s tip, but Nole couldn’t go any further. Noticing the hesitation, Ryker saw an opening. 

“You can’t, can you?” Nole felt his enemy’s shoulders tense up as he attempted to pull his hands free.

“Don’t even start with me,” Nole reaffirmed. “Try anything and you’ll have your answer.” His tone was enough to put an end to Ryker’s last-ditch effort of escape. The only thing left moving was Taro, whose breathing had become labored.  

He’s right, Nole thought begrudgingly. After everything he’s done, I just can’t bring myself to do it. After everything Taro just went through, and I can’t even handle killing him. Hands trembling in apprehension, Nole couldn’t bring himself to look at Taro and all his suffering.

“It’s… okay,” the boy wheezed. His squinting eyes portrayed an understanding, as if he, too, would be unable to kill the man. Although the gesture could easily be taken shallow, Nole could tell he was being genuine. When his eyes fell on the cut on Taro’s cheek, a gut-wrenching shame incapacitated him. He felt he should say something; anything to convey his remorse, but the thought was cut short when a hand was placed on his shoulder.

Jolting from the shock, Nole thought he’d unintentionally stabbed Ryker’s neck, but to his relief, the loathsome man was still intact.

“Whoa, it’s me,” Tom’s reassured. As much as he wanted to pass Ryker off to Tom, he refused to take his attention off of their incapacitated enemy. “Taro, is that you? You’ve looked better.”

“Where did you come from?” Nole asked, already irritated with his newfound ally, Nole remembered the events happening outside of the station.

“We broke in through the side. A few of our men infiltrated the station a few days ago, so they created the opening. I’m surprised no one discovered it.”

A few days ago? Is he talking about Tyrone and Marco?

“How’s everything outside? Is Suri okay? Did you bring back up? Capt. Hadley needs medical attention right away and Sgt. Bellamy’s dead.”

“Nole, slow down,” Tom eased replacing his hand on Nole’s shoulder. “Everything’s being handled. You guys look like you’ve been through the ringer, so just relax for now.” Kneeling beside them, Tom slid his hand into Ryker’s pocket, uncovering the keys to Hadley’s handcuffs. “Marco, go get Asteria to assist Quinn. Tyrone, uncuff her,” he ordered, throwing the keys outside of Nole’s range of vision.

“Well, if it isn’t Capt. Hendricks,” Ryker sneered.

“Former Captain,” Tom refuted. He went around them to the side of Ryker’s holster and removed Caswell’s gun, tucking it into his own waistband. “You know, I always had my doubts about you when you were a rookie.” The news that Tom had been an Enforcer surprised Nole. As a part of his law enforcement evasion tactics, Nole had developed a habit of keeping up with promotions within Enforcers. Even with his prior knowledge, he couldn’t recall an Enforcer looking like Tom or even the name Hendricks. It must’ve been before we moved to Nova, he decided.

“Maybe if you stayed, you would’ve seen through me Captain.”

“Maybe.”

“Don’t tell me you’re part of a gang.”

“Then I won’t.”

When Ryker realized his prying wasn’t working on Tom, he relented. Moving directly in front of both Ryker and Nole, Tom placed his hands on top of Taro’s. “Let go of the gun,” he ordered Ryker, his voice suddenly intimidating. The two men engaged in a brief standoff that made Nole feel completely out of their league. “It’s fine, Taro.”

Taro obediently released his grip, and Tom replaced it with one of his own hands. “Let it go Sergeant,” Tom warned, retrieving a knife from his pocket. “I’ll take it with or without your hand.” Suddenly the easygoing tone was gone, and a frighteningly serious one took its place. If Ryker had any intention of fighting back, Tom extinguished it.

Clearly not a match for his former superior, Ryker let go of the weapon. “Thanks,” Tom smiled. “Nole, you can let him go now, I can take it from here.”

Following Taro’s lead, Nole withdrew the blade from his captive’s neck and took a step back from the tense atmosphere. “Now, if you’d be so kind as to get your fingers out of my friend.”