As soon as the night nurse had left, Daltry slipped out of bed, retrieved his clothes from the cupboard and painfully got himself dressed. His ribs ached but he managed, it was his face that would be the problem. Quickly, in the little bathroom he unwound the bandage from his head and paused in shock; he wasn't sure which would be more noticeable, the bruises or the bandage.

With some patient caution he managed to slip out of the hospital and in the cover of darkness, found a car at the far end of the parking lot that was easy to break into through the no draft and then jump start. The mission now was Braxton. Nothing was going to stop him from making the bastard pay for sending Ramsey to kill him.

It was only a fluke that as he left the hospital and started to turn onto the highway heading for Hunting he saw the very man he wanted, hail a cab and take off in the same direction. Daltry thought it odd that Braxton would be taking a cab but he had no knowledge of the arrests or his boss's subsequent escape.

********

The Federal officer had accepted the large amount of money from Braxton's wallet in exchange for the gun, led him around behind the police van and endured the planned punch to the chin, allowing Braxton to get away. A block away Braxton hailed a cab and directed it straight to Hunting and the Sanders' house.

When Braxton was discovered missing, the Federal officer failed to sell his story to his superiors and was taken into custody, then upon hearing Daltry had slipped out of the hospital the officer in charge was livid and a search was scrambled immediately.

Braxton left the cab a few properties away and when it had driven from sight he began his walk to the Sanders'. Further up the road, coasting to a stop with no lights showing, Daltry watched the shadowy figure limp cautiously down the road and into the driveway of Barbara Sanders' home.

********

"Why would he risk coming here? They'll be looking for him." Barbara gave Nick a sideways look.

"I don't know that he would but better safe than sorry. And what about Daltry? That whacko might just have the same thing in mind."

"Well I'm not going to live worrying about what might be." Barbara carried the wine bottle and her glass to the living room. "Might as well sit in here if you don't want to stay outside. Will you fetch another bottle from under the counter when you come?"

She set the bottle and her glass down just as the doorbell rang. Sighing she crossed the foyer to the door and opened it just as she heard Nick shout not to. Braxton pushed his way in shoving her roughly against the wall and raised his gun as Nick appeared from the kitchen.

"You alright?" He hurried over and put an arm around Barbara.

"How sweet. The kissing cousins are we?"

"What do you want, Braxton?"

"Oh that's rich! What do you think I want from the pain in the ass private dick that ruined my business?"

"Your, poison the town business, you mean?"

"Just shut up and move away from her."

"If you're gonna do us both wouldn't it be better closer together?"

"I said move!" Braxton stepped toward the living room waving Barbara to follow. "Sit. And if you move or make a peep you're history." He walked back to the foyer. "Outside."

"We going somewhere?"

"I said outside."

Nick pulled the door open and moved out onto the front step, prodded by Braxton's gun.

"Now, run for the street."

"What? What the hell for; you gonna shoot me in the back do it here."

"I'm giving you a chance, Roth."

"Well I ain't giving you one, Braxton." Both men turned, startled as Daltry stepped from the side of the house and fired directly at his old boss.

Braxton stumbled sideways grasping at the blood seeping from his side. He looked up in shock as Daltry stepped closer and fired right into his face. Nick made a beeline for the side of the house, hoping to get inside through the kitchen. Bits of brick flew past his head as Daltry fired again.

"Don't count on your lawn sprinkler this time, Roth," he shouted, giving chase.

Nick charged through the broken kitchen door, slamming it closed but not pausing to try and lock it. With a cursory look into the living room he saw that Barbara was gone and fists clenched he made a beeline for the stairs, ducking as the banister rail splintered near his hand. He turned the corner at the top of the stairs and ran for Richard's study. There was no sight or sound of Barbara and he puzzled over where she disappeared to as he skidded into the room and slammed the door.

Immediately he heard Daltry try the handle then begin kicking the door.

"You trapped yourself this time, Roth!" Another kick and the wood panelling began to splinter; Daltry winced as his rib injuries burned. "You're gonna get the same as Braxton! Then I'm gonna find that cousin of yours and she'll pay too."

Nick retrieved the bayonet he remembered from the closet and crept up next to the door. Next kick and Daltry's leg came through the panel, stuck in the hole he'd made. He swore aloud tried to drag it back out. Nick was tempted to chop it off but instead he just held the blade against Daltry's shin and let him scrape the skin himself as he yanked back.

"Bastard!" The leg disappeared and shots came through the wood in rapid fire.

Nick pressed against the wall; his body tensed for when Daltry broke into the room. There was a short scream, some swearing, another scream and a shot but not at the door. Silence. Nick carefully bent down and peered through the shattered door panel. Both Nick and Barbara where lying in the hallway.

He opened the door and hurried to Barbara, kneeling down beside her; it seemed she had fainted.

"Barb? Barb, you okay?" He shook her gently and lifted her to a sitting position when she groaned and started to come around.

She suddenly jerked away and looked at Daltry's body, pointing.

"He's out. What did you do, I heard another shot out here?"

I was watching, waiting for a chance. He pulled his leg out of the door and was turned away from me, shooting. I hit him with the fry pan, he turned around and I hit him again in the face; his gun went off and he fell."

Nick looked and saw the handle of the pan sticking out from under Daltry's leg. Blood was running from his already battered face. "But then you fainted?"

"I guess I was overwhelmed with adrenaline." She let him help her to her feet and leaned for a moment on the wall. "What's that you've got?"

"An army bayonet. It was hanging in Richard's closet. I lost both my guns to the cops and Braxton. We better get downstairs and call the Feds."

Downstairs, Nick set the bayonet down, picked up the phone and dialed the operator then he made a face and swore.

"What's the matter?"

"Here, you tell the operator you want the Federal authorities. I never picked up Daltry's gun before we came down." He handed off the phone and ran back to the stairs.

Barbara spoke to the operator, gave her the message and waited. The shot startled her and she dropped the receiver and called for Nick. When there was no answer she started for the stairs, stopping to pick up the bayonet he'd left behind.

On the landing she saw Nick on the floor, blood seeping from his jacket and Daltry supporting himself on the banister rail, looking down through glazed eyes. His face was a greenish mass of bruises and a trail of red from where she had hit him with the pan, ran down beside his nose.

He started down the stair toward her, the gun wavering erratically and as he passed Roth on the landing he felt the foot come up and tangle with his.

Lurching forward, Daltry fired the gun and Barbara screamed, holding up her arms in front and screaming again as he landed against the blade of the bayonet, knocking them both to the floor. In a panic she tried to shove him away but the blade had gone right through and was preventing him from rolling back.

Nick dragged himself down the stairs, the wound in his side bleeding copiously, and over to Barbara where he stood swaying.

"You okay?"

"Nick . . . oh God . . . I stabbed him. He's dying."

"Never mind him, are you okay?' He began to gasp and went to the phone on the floor, picking it up and clicking the hanger until the operator came on. "I need an ambulance . . ." He gave the address and then collapsed.