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tanaquiljallTitle: Tailspin
Fandom: Jericho
Rating: General
Warnings: None
Words: 34,820 words
Summary: On his return from Texas, Jake tries to fit back into a Jericho gearing itself up for continued resistance to Cheyenne control. But he finds everything has changed—and that everywhere he goes, he runs into Beck.
Disclaimer: This story is based on the Junction Entertainment/Fixed Mark Productions/CBS Paramount Television series Jericho. It was written for entertainment only; the author does not profit from it nor was any infringement of copyright intended.
Author's Note: This story is part of Awesome!Jakeverse, the shared post-season 2 verse being written by Scribbler (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
scribblesinink) and Tanaqui (tanaquific). It follows on from events in Home Brew and Past Recall. Thanks to Scribbler (scribblesinink) for the beta.
Part One of "Tailspin" | Part Two of "Tailspin"
oOo
Beretta in hand, Jake edged along the side of the drug store a block along and across the street from the Med Center, the sound of the hovering helicopters loud in his ears. Yet even as he cautiously peered around the corner, he saw the Apaches break off and climb steeply, heading back the way they’d come.
“They’re leaving?” Heather, behind him, sounded relieved.
“Looks like it.” Jake watched for a moment longer as the helicopters picked up speed, before he shoved his gun back in its holster and stepped around the corner. His gaze dropped to where, in the middle of the empty clinic parking lot, a couple of soldiers were starting to break down a rocket launcher. The sound of a humvee approaching from the other end of the street drew his attention; he wasn’t surprised to see Beck in the passenger seat. He wasn’t pleased, either.
He strode forward and reached the soldiers with the rocket launcher just as Beck climbed out of the humvee that had parked next to them. There was a wary expression on the major’s face—as there damn well ought to be. “What the hell are you doing here?” Jake snarled.
Beck pressed his lips together for a moment, before he said quietly and evenly, “Helping protect your town.”
“We don’t need your help.” Jake took a step closer, glaring down at the shorter man.
“Against Apaches?” Beck tipped his head back slightly and quirked an eyebrow. “Come on, Jake. You know better than that.”
“Those damn things,” Jake gestured upward, “wouldn’t even be here if you weren’t!”
“Jake….” Heather had a hand on his arm and he was dimly aware they’d had this conversation—or one very like it—before, and that he’d made her a promise….
Over Beck’s shoulder, he saw Eric approaching, three more of Beck’s men at his heels. “You knew about this?” he shot at his brother. “You authorized it?”
“Yes.” Eric spoke curtly, glaring at Jake for a second before turning to Beck, who’d swung away from Jake and taken a pace back as Eric approached. “Are your men okay?”
Beck glanced over at the soldiers with the launcher and exchanged nods with them. “Yes.” He looked back toward Eric. “Seems like Hoffman’s guys got the message. Hopefully it’ll stick and this won’t happen again.”
“It won’t if you get the hell away from Jericho.” Jake stepped forward again, shaking off Heather’s hand on his arm. People were coming out of the front door of the Med Center, gathering on the steps; he could see his mom among them. He was aware of more people arriving behind him, closing in on the group clustered in the middle of the parking lot.
“Jake!” It was Eric’s turn to grab Jake’s arm. “Just knock it off. Everybody knows you don’t like what’s going on here, but—this is the way things are, okay?”
Jake wrenched himself out of his brother’s grip, preparing to—he wasn’t quite sure what. Punch Eric, maybe; later he realized he’d clenched his hands into fists. But before he could do anything, a quiet voice at his shoulder said, “Jake?” A moment later, Mack Davies had stepped around him, blocking any attempt Jake might have made to hit Eric or Beck. Though the tall Texan didn’t touch him, something about his manner was enough to give Jake pause. Meeting Mack’s gaze, Jake saw the customary twinkle in his eyes was gone, replaced by something harder and colder that reminded him very much of Hawkins.
With the smallest of gestures, Mack shepherded Jake away from Eric and Beck. Jake let himself be herded, recognizing he was likely to end up face down on the floor with Mack’s knee in his back and no idea how he’d gotten there if he didn’t comply.
Mack steered him a few yards away, placing them so Jake couldn’t see what was going on in the group they’d just left. Beck giving orders to his men and Eric sending one of the Rangers to urge everyone back into the Med Center, now the show was over, by the sound of it. Jake focused his attention back on Mack.
The Texan looked at him for a moment and then said quietly, “What the major did to you…. That’s not going to be forgotten. He will be held accountable.” Mack reached up and gave the back of the patrol cap he wore a slight tug, as if settling it more comfortably. In truth, Jake realized, he was drawing Jake’s attention to the silver eagle it sported that marked Mack as a Colonel. “Just….”
“Not today.” Jake huffed a bitter laugh.
Mack’s mustache twitched. “No. Not today.” His gaze flicked over Jake’s shoulder for a moment, before returning to Jake’s face. “Look, whatever other… deficiencies there may be in his command style, Beck seems like a pretty good tactician. He was Hoffman’s S-3, the brigade’s operations officer, before Hoffman gave him a battalion. What he did today was… risky, but it was also pretty smart. Should keep Hoffman off your backs for a while.”
“And if it hadn’t worked?” Jake jerked his head in the direction of the Med Center. In the direction of his mom. He clenched his already balled fists tighter.
Again, Mack looked past Jake for a moment, before turning his attention back to him. “Then, yes, it would have gotten messy. Could’ve been a lot of casualties. But that would’ve probably happened anyway, sooner or later, if that’s how Hoffman’s looking to play this thing.”
“So you’re saying I should trust him?” Jake crossed his arms, only a little mollified by the fact Mack’s tone made it clear while he might respect Beck’s abilities, he didn’t much like him.
“In this, yes. I’ve talked to him and your brother and they seem to have things worked out pretty well between them to keep Hoffman at arms’ length.”
“And if Beck wasn’t here at all?” Hoffman was here for him, wasn’t he? And Jericho was just getting caught in the crossfire. Wasn’t it really the case that Jericho was protecting Beck?
Mack gave Jake a searching look, as if he knew exactly what Jake was thinking. “Then you’d have some other ASA officer in here who ain’t so fussy about who he’s takin’ orders from, finishin’ what Beck started. What Beck did to you and the town may have crossed a few lines, but it wasn’t anything his ASA commanders weren’t right behind. From what we’ve heard, there’s plenty other towns been through the same thing.”
Jake turned his head away and snorted. “In other words, we need each other.”
“Uh-huh.” Mack’s attention shifted again. Turning, Jake saw Eric approaching.
“Uh.” Eric lifted a hand and scratched the back of his neck. “We’re having a meeting in City Hall in ten minutes. To discuss what this means and… what we do next. Would be good if you were there. Both of you.”
Jake recognized the invitation for the peace offering it was. He puffed out a breath, trying to let go of the last of his anger. With only the briefest of glances in Beck’s direction, he nodded. “I’ll be there.”
oOo
Eric kept an eye on Jake as everyone filed into Gray’s office a few minutes later. Beck immediately crossed to stand next to Gray’s desk and began explaining to the mayor what had just happened. Gray had spent the attack in the bomb shelter in the basement, still grumbling as he emerged about being sent there, even though it had been one of the first things they’d all agreed on when putting together plans dealing with Hoffman. And for the same reason Jake had sent him back to town during New Bern’s attack: Jericho needed a leader if everything went wrong.
Jake installed himself on the far side of the room, the perfect position from which to glower across at Beck. Heather, after taking a look at the two men, stationed herself an equal distance between them. Colonel Davies joined her: the two peacemakers in the room. Suppressing a sigh, Eric took a place next to Jake, hoping it might appease his brother a little: he could still feel him thrumming with anger—or fear. Or anger because he was afraid: Eric hadn’t missed the way Jake had picked out their mom from among the staff and patients who’d come out of the Med Center. His own heart had been in his mouth while the helicopters hovered overhead, knowing she was in there.
He could understand, too, that his brother was frustrated by being at a loose end and apparently superfluous. The Devil makes work for idle hands had been how Dad had always put it, each time Jake had gotten himself into yet another scrape when they’d been kids. That was how he’d set fire to the carpet in Dad’s office and how Jake and Stanley had ended up stuck on the roof of City Hall when the fireworks were going off. How he’d gotten mixed up with a man like Jonah. So that made Eric partly to blame for Jake’s current mood: he should’ve made the time to rework the roster to give Jake something to do. Taken time, too, to explain to Jake what had been going on while he’d been in Texas, why they were working with Beck now, and just where Beck’s authority ended.
Eric transferred his attention back to Beck. Watching him talking to Gray, Eric reflected that until Jake had returned, things had been working out pretty well. Though Beck had been quick to make suggestions, he’d also seemed mindful of his changed position and the limits of his new authority—or lack of it. Enough that Eric had been willing to let him take charge a few minutes ago without a second thought, confident Beck would relinquish control once the crisis was over.
In fact, Eric realized, he’d never really hated Beck, even when he’d been the enemy during their little rebellion. Heather had been right: Beck was a good man who’d taken a very wrong turn out of blinkered loyalty. And who’d owned up to that once he’d understood his mistake, and done what he could to make things right.
It was different for Jake, of course. Eric suspected what Jake felt for Beck was something more like the visceral hate he himself felt for Constantino. Torture was apt to have that effect.
Beck seemed to have finished bringing Gray up to speed. With a nod, the mayor turned his attention to the rest of the room. “So, how does this change things?”
Eric exchanged a look with Beck. “I guess we know a little more about Hoffman’s intentions? That he’s not just going to level the town and be done with it?”
“Not this time, no.” Beck hesitated. “But I’d like to have some Javelins stationed permanently in town. Took us a damn sight longer to respond than I’d like. If those helicopters had been looking for targets…. And it might make Hoffman think twice about trying again.”
“Or make us an even bigger target and give him the excuse he’s looking for?” Jake was leaning back against a bookcase, his arms folded, but his words dripped with contempt.
Beck gave him a steady look, his expression unchanged. “That’s a possibility, yes.”
A uncomfortable silence hung over the room, no one apparently willing to venture an opinion on either side. Eric was inclined to agree with Beck: he’d feel a lot happier if the means to hit back was closer at hand, and it wasn’t as if they were actively threatening Hoffman. But Jake clearly already thought Eric was too much on Beck’s side, so he kept quiet.
“Seems to me—” It was Davies’ Texan drawl that broke the silence. “—that little display out there was about reminding you of Hoffman’s power. Givin’ you a taste of what you could be up against. Intimidation. Scare tactics.” He turned toward Beck. “You know the man better‘n any of us. Does that sound like him?”
Beck nodded. “Yes. If he really wanted to hit the town, he didn’t need to put his own troops at risk like that. He could call on air support or bring up some heavy artillery.”
Gray leaned forward. “So we show him we’re not intimidated. If Eric’s amenable and you’re willing, major, I’ll agree to your plan to have some of your men stationed in town. Put ‘em on the roof of City Hall.”
Eric heard Jake snort quietly. A glance sideways showed he had a mulish expression on his face. Trying to keep the peace, reminded strongly of how much he and Jake had been at loggerheads in those first weeks after the September attacks, Eric said carefully, “Why don’t we try it for a few days and see how it goes?” When Beck nodded at him, he added, “Do you have any idea what Hoffman will do next?”
Beck shook his head. “Depends what his orders are from Cheyenne. Are they willing to wait us out? Expecting us to surrender when we see how hopeless things are? Or do they need to crush us quickly? From what Colonel Davies has told us, they have to be gearing up for war with Texas, and for things to escalate with Columbus. How long can they spare the kind of resources they’ll need to tie us down in a long siege?”
“Best guess?” Davies raised an eyebrow.
Beck gave a slight shrug. “I wish I could give you one. If I had some idea what was going on out there,” he gestured toward the window, “then maybe I could. If I knew what kind of materiel he’s bringing in—if he’s bring up reinforcements or heavy armament. But at the moment, we’re blind. Best I can do is figure out the minimum number of troops he has based on the new checkpoints, but beyond that….”
“Can Texas help with any of that?” Gray dipped his head in Davies’ direction.
“’Fraid not.” The Texan’s mustache drooped. “We’d sure love to have access to satellite surveillance but things didn’t fall out that way. Could ask my guys if we can ask Columbus but… would take a few days. And by the time we get it, it could well be out of date.”
At his side, Eric felt Jake stir and straighten. “Wait a minute. Didn’t you end up with Hawkins’ laptop?” He was looking at Beck. “Heather told me that was why you finally got your head out of your ass.”
Eric saw Beck blink in surprise, while Heather heaved a weary-sounding sigh and said in a patient yet irritated tone that Eric suspected she used on fractious third-graders, “Jake, that wasn’t at all what I—.”
“It’s okay.” Beck put out a hand her in her direction, cutting her off. He gave her a smile and a nod of reassurance and added softly. “I know.” He turned back to Jake. “Hawkins’ laptop was part of why I changed my mind, yes. And yes, we have it.”
The two men locked gazes for a moment, Jake clearly expecting more from Beck—some further apology or admission of guilt, perhaps—that Beck equally clearly wasn’t willing to give. Then Jake snorted and shook his head. Turning to face Gray, he said, “Hawkins had access to a satellite. It was how he let us know what New Bern were up to when they were attacking us. Maybe we can use that.”
“I’m afraid not.” Beck had a genuinely rueful expression on his face. “I had Lieutenant Maris thoroughly investigate the laptop after I’d seen its contents. To ensure we preserved the evidence and to find out what else it held. Unfortunately, once Cheyenne realized Hawkins was still alive, they seem to have rescinded his access to everything. Including the satellite. The laptop still has value as a piece of evidence against Tomarchio and Valente, but I’m afraid it’s no help to us otherwise.”
Jake glared at Beck for a moment longer and then sniffed derisively, before slumping back against the wall. Eric breathed a sigh of relief that Jake had decided to let the issue of Beck’s change of heart drop.
“So,” Gray cleared his throat, “seems the best we can do for the moment is for Colonel Davies to see what he can do for us. Meanwhile—.”
“Wait. What about making use of our tame spook?” That was Jake again, apparently not interested in giving Gray much more respect than he’d given Beck. Turning his gaze toward Jake again, Eric recognized the look on his brother’s face from back when they were kids; it was the one that had always meant someone—though very rarely Jake himself—was about to land in a whole heap of trouble thanks to whatever scheme Jake was cooking up.
“Our what?” Gray was staring at Jake, a startled expression on his face.
“Chavez.” Jake grinned. “The two of us could sneak through Hoffman’s lines, steal a humvee, take a look around pretending to be part of Hoffman’s crew, sneak back in….”
“Get yourself caught?” Beck’s tone was crushing. “You really think you can fool them out there?”
Jake smirked. “Well, we managed to fool you.”
Time to step in before things got out of hand again between Jake and Beck, Eric decided. Time to end the meeting, too, before anyone agreed to one of Jake’s crazy schemes just to get him to shut him up. “Look, it’s a possibility, Jake.” Eric tried not sound like he already thought the idea was a bad one. “Talk to Chavez, come up with a plan and we’ll discuss it at the next meeting.” He suspected both Jake and Chavez were now marked men and the chances of them getting spotted and picked up if they ventured outside Jericho were pretty high. He was also hopeful that Chavez would know that and, if he was anything like Hawkins, was capable of talking Jake out of his wilder ideas. “Meanwhile, I think we’ve all got things we need to be getting on with.”
Not waiting for a reply, he nodded to the room at large before heading for the door. Walking down the stairs, he rubbed the back of his hand across his forehead, trying to ignore the slight headache that had developed over the course of the meeting. Unless Jake and Beck could sort things out between them, they were gonna need Dale to smuggle in a few truckloads of tylenol.
oOo
Two hours later, Jake found himself watching Heather disappear into City Hall, wishing she’d taken him up on his invitation for them to eat lunch together. After the meeting in Gray’s office had broken up, they’d walked back out to the pumping station to finish firing up the turbine. They’d been silent on the way out, though Heather had thrown him the occasional look that had suggested she wanted to say something but didn’t quite know what. He wasn’t quite sure what to say either. He certainly wasn’t going to apologize for disagreeing about how to protect Jericho: just because he’d promised to work with Beck didn’t mean he was going to roll over and accept everything the man said. But he didn’t want to find himself arguing with Heather about Beck yet again.
Luckily, once they got out to the pumping station, having to talk about the turbine helped break the ice. And by the time he walked her back into town, they were cheerfully discussing the battery array she was planning and what they might be able to do with any batteries they managed to charge, and Jake was making her laugh by telling her about the time he and Stanley had used car batteries to try to power a party they’d held out at a disused barn—except the juice wasn’t quite enough for the record player and everything had played a fraction too slow. So he’d been a little disappointed, once they reached Main Street, that she’d declined his suggestion to go to Bailey’s. She’d hesitated for a moment and then made a face and said she had to get back to her desk: Lots to catch up on. Sorry. Jake hadn’t offered to lend a hand; he’d doubted it was anything he could help with, and probably most of it involved Beck in some way, anyway. She was still his liaison, after all, and she’d been neglecting that for the turbines.
The doors had closed behind Heather, but he went on standing looking up at them, until a hail from further down Main Street made him turn. He felt his spirits lift a little as he saw Chavez approaching: finding him had been on Jake’s very short list of things to do that afternoon.
Reaching Jake, Chavez thumped him cheerfully on the shoulder. “Hear I missed all the excitement earlier.”
“You mean Beck waving his dick around to show us all just how he’s ‘defending’ the town?” Jake still wasn’t sure Mack had the right of it when it came to Beck’s tactics.
Chavez gave Jake a look, but didn’t say anything. Which only annoyed Jake even more. He snorted to himself as he realized he was spoiling for a fight with someone.
He didn’t want to get on Chavez’s wrong side, though. Not if he was going to get him to agree to a reconnaissance mission. So he simply dipped his head in Chavez’s direction. “Where’ve you been, anyway? I haven’t seen you since I left Bailey’s the night we got back." Which was, he calculated with a start, nearly three days ago now.
“Catching up on my beauty sleep.” Chavez smirked at him. “Was out with Dale and the Rangers last night, seeing what we could smuggle back in.” He shrugged. “They need pack horses or mules or something. No way they’re going to be able to bring it all in on foot.”
“You think?” Jake tried to keep the bitterness out of his tone. That had been one of the suggestions he’d been trying, unsuccessfully, to make during the meeting that morning. Not to mention that Eric had let Chavez, who couldn’t have spent more than six weeks in Jericho all told, tag along on the expedition. Instead of taking along someone who actually knew the area like the back of his hand. Someone like Jake.
Again, Chavez gave him a look, but didn’t comment.
Jake cleared his throat. “So, are you up for another little trip?”
“What did you have in mind?” Though Chavez still seemed relaxed, Jake could tell he’d gotten his full attention.
“Beck’s been complaining he doesn’t have enough intelligence on what Hoffman’s up to. I was thinking we could maybe go get some.” Jake grinned at Chavez, sure the idea would appeal to him.
“Surveillance? Just the two of us?” Chavez raised his eyebrows. “Any particular target?”
“Umm, not really.” Jake shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Hoffman’s headquarters? Or his supply lines, maybe? We should be able to bring something back that Beck would find useful?”
“Could be pretty risky.” Chavez’s tone was light but held a warning note. “You can’t just run around out there like you’re playing paintball, you know.”
“I know.” Jake gritted his teeth. What did Chavez think he and the Rangers had been up to in the months before the ASA had arrived? Wiring up the Tacoma Bridge for the sheer hell of it? His conversation with Hawkins on the bridge came back to him: Would you even know when you’re in over your head? Pushing the memory aside, he gave Chavez an encouraging nod, trying to urge him into saying yes. “But useful, right?”
“Maybe.” Chavez still didn’t sound convinced. He regarded Jake thoughtfully. “Did you talk to Beck and your brother about this?”
Jake narrowed his eyes, feeling his temper rise again. It was becoming clear that Chavez had no intention of helping and was trying to palm Jake off, the way Eric and Beck had done already. At this rate, the three of them would just give him the permanent runaround between them. “They told me to talk to you. Come up with a plan. But if you’re not interested—.”
He started to swing away, but Chavez caught his arm. “I didn’t say that. But there’s no point running the risk of getting caught if we’re not likely to come back with anything useful.” He held Jake’s gaze for a moment and then gave a quick dip of the head. “Let me have a think about it, okay? Then we’ll sit down and have a proper talk.”
“Okay.” Jake nodded. It was something, he supposed. Even if he had the feeling, as he watched Chavez disappear into City Hall, that the other man was just humoring him and had no real intention of coming up with a workable plan.
oOo
Inside Bailey’s, Mary was swiping a cloth over the bar, even though it was already polished to a shine, and resisting the urge to go look for a second time at the rhubarb wine brewing in the closed kitchen or recount her dwindling stocks of booze for the third time that day. Not that they were dwindling very much at the moment; the bar was empty, as it had been most days at this time since they’d split from Cheyenne control. The majority of her customers were either out with the Rangers, were sleeping after being on the night patrols or were just trying to keep life going without the benefit of electricity or gas.
At least the place should be busy for a while this evening; Eric had stopped by after the morning meeting to tell her they wanted to use her satellite dish to see if they could pick up any news broadcasts from Texas—or further afield—that might give them an idea what was happening in the world beyond their patrol lines. He’d promised her there’d be a gas ration in it that would allow her to keep the coffee hotplate on, if not the lights. And it should bring in a few customers.
She drifted along the bar, wondering if she should use the peace and quiet to take down and polish the glasses hanging in the racks above her head. Stop them from gathering dust. It would at least be something to do, something to keep her from repeatedly wandering over to the front windows and checking yet again that City Hall was still in one piece, that Eric was probably still safe. She snorted to herself. Not as if she wouldn’t have noticed if something had happened; the helicopters mid-morning had been audible enough, drawing her outside, along with a couple of guys who’d stopped by for coffee.
The guys—they were both Rangers—had taken off toward the Sheriff’s Office once they’d realized what was going on, while she’d stood in the street, peering upward as the helicopters had circled and hovered. Lowering her gaze, she’d seen Eric emerge on to the front steps of City Hall, a rifle in his hand. He’d seen her a moment later and called to her to get back inside. She’d wanted to tell him the same. Hell, she’d wanted to go over there and drag him back with her. Instead, swallowing down her fear, she’d nodded at him and gone back into the bar, knowing enough to stay away from the windows.
Knowing, too, that he was as safe as anybody, and safer than most of the Rangers; as Sheriff, he spent most of his time behind the lines, coordinating the patrols and checkpoints, rather than in the firing line itself. Still didn’t stop her carrying around a constant seed of worry, though.
The sound of the door opening dragged her from her dark thoughts and she forced herself to plaster on a welcoming smile for a potential customer. A little to her surprise, it was Jake who made his way into the bar.
“Hey.” He peered around as he approached her, clearly wondering if the two of them were the only ones in the place. “You open? Was hoping I could get something to eat.”
Mary put down the cloth she was still holding. “Yeah, we’re open. Kitchen’s closed, though.” Both her chefs were out manning checkpoints. “But I could do you a sandwich.”
“That’d be great. Thanks.” Jake slid onto a stool. He swiveled round to watch her as she headed for the kitchen. “Need a short-order cook?”
“You?” She laughed as she reached for a loaf of bread. “Haven’t you got anything better to do?”
“Apparently not.” He scrubbed a hand across his face. “Been helping Heather hook up the turbine out at the pumping station this morning and she’s got me going round this afternoon trying to badger people into giving up their car batteries for some kinda energy storage thing she’s planning.”
“Sounds like an important job.” God knows, Mary had hoped she’d never have to go through anything like the last winter ever again once Beck and his men had restored power to the town. Still, she guessed it wasn’t the kind of thing Jake had expected to be doing after he returned to Jericho. Not after the hair-raising account he’d given his first evening back of his exploits on the way to and from Texas.
Slicing the sandwiches she’d made in half and piling them on a plate, she carried them over to Jake and set them down in front of him. He grabbed one and bit into it, making an appreciative noise as he chewed. “Thanks.” He waved the rest of the sandwich in her direction.
Mary rounded the bar and began taking down the glasses hanging over it; she’d decided to polish them after all. “I’m sure Heather appreciates the help.”
“Yeah.” Jake took another bite of his sandwich. “Guess it gives her more time to do Beck’s PR for him.” Though his words were muffled by the mouthful of food, there was no mistaking the disgust and anger in them.
Mary pursed her lips as she reached for the next set of glasses. Sounded like it wasn’t just being kept off the front line that was bothering Jake. She could understand that; she’d been a bit surprised herself how ready the town had been to welcome Beck back. After this morning’s display of strength by Hoffman, though, she was pretty glad they had. And she had to hand it to Beck: over the past week or so, he’d impressed her with the way he’d walked a careful line between meeting his own interests and not running roughshod over Jericho’s leaders as he supplied his military expertise and his men to defend Jericho.
She also knew he’d impressed Eric, and that Eric had been less than impressed by Jake upsetting the balance they’d achieved. He’d muttered something about it when he’d finally gotten home last night, just as she was closing up the bar, before dismissing it with a shake of the head and pulling her into a weary embrace.
Picking up a clean cloth, she began polishing the glasses. “You know,” she said carefully, “I’m going to be the first to say Beck got a lot of things wrong, but since he defected…. I really think he’s been trying.”
Jake snorted. “That’s what Heather said.”
Mary held up the glass and inspected it, before hanging it back in place. “Heather’s a smart woman.” Ignoring Jake’s disdainful sniff, she picked up another glass. “She kept promising us he’d come around, and she was right.”
“Yeah.” Jake crammed the last of the sandwiches into his mouth. “When he had the evidence handed to him on a plate.”
Mary didn’t bother trying to argue with him that it was the same for most people; Jake clearly wasn’t in the mood to listen to reason. Instead, she jerked her head toward the plate. “You want some coffee as well?”
“Please.” Jake pushed the plate aside.
Mary was just pouring the coffee into the cup she’d placed in front of him when she heard the door opening again. This time it was Bill.
“Mary. Jake.” He nodded at them both as he looked around. “Quiet in here.”
“Uh-huh.” Mary finished filling Jake’s cup. “Can I get you anything?”
“I’ll have one of those to go.” Bill nodded at the pot in Mary’s hand.
“Sure thing.” Mary busied herself filling a styrofoam cup and finding a lid. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Bill was leaning back against the bar next to Jake, resting on his elbows.
“So, that was quite some show Hoffman put on this morning.” Bill made it sound like they’d all been attending the local air display.
Mary shook her head as she pressed the lid onto the cup to seal it. Bill had a real knack for enjoying bad news, and for picking at other people’s scabs, didn’t he? Seemed Jake agreed with her, from the unimpressed noise he made in response.
She wasn’t much surprised when, as she turned back with the coffee, Bill added with a smirk, “Good thing the cavalry came rolling into town to save us, wasn’t it? Bet those flyboys weren’t expecting that, huh?”
Mary rolled her eyes. Way to pour oil on the flames, Bill.
“You mean Beck?” Jake had twisted in his seat and was staring at Bill with narrowed eyes.
Bill—being Bill; Mary shook her head again—didn’t seem to notice Jake’s anger. “Uh-huh. Nice having our own private army, isn’t it?” Taking the coffee from Mary with a quick thanks, he began to turn away—before he turned back, apparently having been struck by another thought. Reaching out, he thumped Jake on the arm and grinned at him. “’Course, if we had our own air force, you’d be just the guy, right?”
“Right.” Jake sounded a little bemused as he watched Bill leave, and he went on staring at the door long after it had closed, a distracted expression on his face.
Sometimes, Mary reflected, clearing away Jake’s plate and wiping up the crumbs he’d scattered, she didn’t know how Bill managed to get through the day without getting himself beaten up at least once.
oOo
A day later, Heather was kneeling on the pumping station floor, leaning over the battery array taking shape under her hands from a mismatched collection of batteries Jake had rounded up for her the previous day. When someone stepped into the doorway, blocking most of the light, she started. The intruder’s approach had been masked by the satisfying whirr of the turbine blades outside and the cheerful bubbling of the water as the pumps drew it from deep underground to refill the tank above her.
Instinctively, she rocked back into a crouch, her hand closing tightly around the pliers she’d been using: an inadequate weapon but the best available. Then she relaxed as the man spoke and she recognized Eric’s voice.
“Heather? Do you have a moment?”
Putting down the pliers, she he got to her feet and wiped her hands on a rag. “Sure” She gestured for Eric to lead them back outside. She could do with a break: the pumping station was surprisingly chilly and smelled of damp.
Outside, she turned her face up to the sun, enjoying its warmth for a moment, before she turned to face Eric. In the bright light, she couldn’t miss the worried expression on his face. “What is it?”
Eric lifted an arm and rubbed his palm across the back of his neck. “Have you seen Jake this morning?”
Heather’s hands tightened on the rag she still held. She shook her head. “No. Not since he gave me the batteries yesterday afternoon. When he didn’t turn up for the meeting this morning….” She gave a rueful laugh. “It was a bit of a relief, really.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Eric rolled his eyes. “But it wasn’t just the meeting he missed. Tried to find him afterward to tell him I’d put him on the roster for a patrol tonight and I can’t find him anywhere. He’s not out at the ranch, can’t find him anywhere in town, and no one’s seen him today. Looks like no one’s seen him since yesterday afternoon, in fact.”
Heather pushed her hair back behind her ear, a knot forming in her stomach. “Do you think he’s okay?”
“God knows.” Eric scuffed his toe in the dirt. “I know he’s… not been finding things easy since he got back to town. Beck….”
“Yeah.” Heather crossed her arms, feeling guilty. It was all her fault Beck was working with them. But it was the right thing to do; she was sure of it. Beck and the town needed each other. She just hadn’t anticipated how much it would hurt Jake, or how much it hurt her to see him hurting like that when she couldn’t do anything about it. “You think he’s going to do something… stupid?”
Eric looked up from contemplating his feet and snorted. “If I know my big brother….” He heaved a sigh. “How did he seem when you saw last him? Did he say anything?”
Heather shook her head. “He just apologized for not being able to get more batteries. Which was…,” she shrugged, “there was no need for that. He got me plenty enough for me to test things out with, and maybe when people see it working, they’ll be willing to give up more.”
“And you told him that?” Eric caught her eye, his brows lifting to emphasize the question.
“Yeah.” She bit her lip, her gaze sliding away. “But maybe he thought I was just humoring him….”
Jake certainly hadn’t looked very convinced when she’d thanked him, or like he’d felt it was a job well done. He’d looked miserable and frustrated, and like he had too much on his mind. She’d badly wanted to offer him some comfort, but the words wouldn’t come, just like they hadn’t come that morning on the way back out to the pumping station. It was okay when the two of them were talking about turbines or batteries, when they were keeping things professional, but she didn’t trust herself not to say or do something stupid if things got too personal between them. So she’d wrapped her arms around herself, aching with the urge to hug him.
“Hey,” Eric reached out and gave her arm a squeeze, bringing her back to the present. “Whatever’s going on with Jake, it’s not your fault, okay?”
Heather wasn’t sure Eric was right about that, but she forced herself to return his smile, though she suspected hers was as unconvincing as his. “I know.” She drew in a deep breath, trying to ease the knot in her stomach. “If I see him, I’ll let him know you’re looking for him. And if I think of anything else or anywhere he could be….”
Eric gave her arm another squeeze. “Thanks. And try not to worry. He’ll be fine.” He let out a humorless laugh. “He always is.”
With a final nod of his head, he turned back to the horse he’d tethered nearby. Watching him ride off, Heather wished she could share his confidence that Jake would be all right. But everything had changed in the past week, and the kind of things Jake could be getting up to…. They weren’t like playing Clyde to Emily’s Bonnie while they went on trick-or-treat expeditions any more, were they?
oOo
Part Four of "Tailspin"
Fandom: Jericho
Rating: General
Warnings: None
Words: 34,820 words
Summary: On his return from Texas, Jake tries to fit back into a Jericho gearing itself up for continued resistance to Cheyenne control. But he finds everything has changed—and that everywhere he goes, he runs into Beck.
Disclaimer: This story is based on the Junction Entertainment/Fixed Mark Productions/CBS Paramount Television series Jericho. It was written for entertainment only; the author does not profit from it nor was any infringement of copyright intended.
Author's Note: This story is part of Awesome!Jakeverse, the shared post-season 2 verse being written by Scribbler (
scribblesinink) and Tanaqui (tanaquific). It follows on from events in Home Brew and Past Recall. Thanks to Scribbler (scribblesinink) for the beta.Part One of "Tailspin" | Part Two of "Tailspin"
Beretta in hand, Jake edged along the side of the drug store a block along and across the street from the Med Center, the sound of the hovering helicopters loud in his ears. Yet even as he cautiously peered around the corner, he saw the Apaches break off and climb steeply, heading back the way they’d come.
“They’re leaving?” Heather, behind him, sounded relieved.
“Looks like it.” Jake watched for a moment longer as the helicopters picked up speed, before he shoved his gun back in its holster and stepped around the corner. His gaze dropped to where, in the middle of the empty clinic parking lot, a couple of soldiers were starting to break down a rocket launcher. The sound of a humvee approaching from the other end of the street drew his attention; he wasn’t surprised to see Beck in the passenger seat. He wasn’t pleased, either.
He strode forward and reached the soldiers with the rocket launcher just as Beck climbed out of the humvee that had parked next to them. There was a wary expression on the major’s face—as there damn well ought to be. “What the hell are you doing here?” Jake snarled.
Beck pressed his lips together for a moment, before he said quietly and evenly, “Helping protect your town.”
“We don’t need your help.” Jake took a step closer, glaring down at the shorter man.
“Against Apaches?” Beck tipped his head back slightly and quirked an eyebrow. “Come on, Jake. You know better than that.”
“Those damn things,” Jake gestured upward, “wouldn’t even be here if you weren’t!”
“Jake….” Heather had a hand on his arm and he was dimly aware they’d had this conversation—or one very like it—before, and that he’d made her a promise….
Over Beck’s shoulder, he saw Eric approaching, three more of Beck’s men at his heels. “You knew about this?” he shot at his brother. “You authorized it?”
“Yes.” Eric spoke curtly, glaring at Jake for a second before turning to Beck, who’d swung away from Jake and taken a pace back as Eric approached. “Are your men okay?”
Beck glanced over at the soldiers with the launcher and exchanged nods with them. “Yes.” He looked back toward Eric. “Seems like Hoffman’s guys got the message. Hopefully it’ll stick and this won’t happen again.”
“It won’t if you get the hell away from Jericho.” Jake stepped forward again, shaking off Heather’s hand on his arm. People were coming out of the front door of the Med Center, gathering on the steps; he could see his mom among them. He was aware of more people arriving behind him, closing in on the group clustered in the middle of the parking lot.
“Jake!” It was Eric’s turn to grab Jake’s arm. “Just knock it off. Everybody knows you don’t like what’s going on here, but—this is the way things are, okay?”
Jake wrenched himself out of his brother’s grip, preparing to—he wasn’t quite sure what. Punch Eric, maybe; later he realized he’d clenched his hands into fists. But before he could do anything, a quiet voice at his shoulder said, “Jake?” A moment later, Mack Davies had stepped around him, blocking any attempt Jake might have made to hit Eric or Beck. Though the tall Texan didn’t touch him, something about his manner was enough to give Jake pause. Meeting Mack’s gaze, Jake saw the customary twinkle in his eyes was gone, replaced by something harder and colder that reminded him very much of Hawkins.
With the smallest of gestures, Mack shepherded Jake away from Eric and Beck. Jake let himself be herded, recognizing he was likely to end up face down on the floor with Mack’s knee in his back and no idea how he’d gotten there if he didn’t comply.
Mack steered him a few yards away, placing them so Jake couldn’t see what was going on in the group they’d just left. Beck giving orders to his men and Eric sending one of the Rangers to urge everyone back into the Med Center, now the show was over, by the sound of it. Jake focused his attention back on Mack.
The Texan looked at him for a moment and then said quietly, “What the major did to you…. That’s not going to be forgotten. He will be held accountable.” Mack reached up and gave the back of the patrol cap he wore a slight tug, as if settling it more comfortably. In truth, Jake realized, he was drawing Jake’s attention to the silver eagle it sported that marked Mack as a Colonel. “Just….”
“Not today.” Jake huffed a bitter laugh.
Mack’s mustache twitched. “No. Not today.” His gaze flicked over Jake’s shoulder for a moment, before returning to Jake’s face. “Look, whatever other… deficiencies there may be in his command style, Beck seems like a pretty good tactician. He was Hoffman’s S-3, the brigade’s operations officer, before Hoffman gave him a battalion. What he did today was… risky, but it was also pretty smart. Should keep Hoffman off your backs for a while.”
“And if it hadn’t worked?” Jake jerked his head in the direction of the Med Center. In the direction of his mom. He clenched his already balled fists tighter.
Again, Mack looked past Jake for a moment, before turning his attention back to him. “Then, yes, it would have gotten messy. Could’ve been a lot of casualties. But that would’ve probably happened anyway, sooner or later, if that’s how Hoffman’s looking to play this thing.”
“So you’re saying I should trust him?” Jake crossed his arms, only a little mollified by the fact Mack’s tone made it clear while he might respect Beck’s abilities, he didn’t much like him.
“In this, yes. I’ve talked to him and your brother and they seem to have things worked out pretty well between them to keep Hoffman at arms’ length.”
“And if Beck wasn’t here at all?” Hoffman was here for him, wasn’t he? And Jericho was just getting caught in the crossfire. Wasn’t it really the case that Jericho was protecting Beck?
Mack gave Jake a searching look, as if he knew exactly what Jake was thinking. “Then you’d have some other ASA officer in here who ain’t so fussy about who he’s takin’ orders from, finishin’ what Beck started. What Beck did to you and the town may have crossed a few lines, but it wasn’t anything his ASA commanders weren’t right behind. From what we’ve heard, there’s plenty other towns been through the same thing.”
Jake turned his head away and snorted. “In other words, we need each other.”
“Uh-huh.” Mack’s attention shifted again. Turning, Jake saw Eric approaching.
“Uh.” Eric lifted a hand and scratched the back of his neck. “We’re having a meeting in City Hall in ten minutes. To discuss what this means and… what we do next. Would be good if you were there. Both of you.”
Jake recognized the invitation for the peace offering it was. He puffed out a breath, trying to let go of the last of his anger. With only the briefest of glances in Beck’s direction, he nodded. “I’ll be there.”
Eric kept an eye on Jake as everyone filed into Gray’s office a few minutes later. Beck immediately crossed to stand next to Gray’s desk and began explaining to the mayor what had just happened. Gray had spent the attack in the bomb shelter in the basement, still grumbling as he emerged about being sent there, even though it had been one of the first things they’d all agreed on when putting together plans dealing with Hoffman. And for the same reason Jake had sent him back to town during New Bern’s attack: Jericho needed a leader if everything went wrong.
Jake installed himself on the far side of the room, the perfect position from which to glower across at Beck. Heather, after taking a look at the two men, stationed herself an equal distance between them. Colonel Davies joined her: the two peacemakers in the room. Suppressing a sigh, Eric took a place next to Jake, hoping it might appease his brother a little: he could still feel him thrumming with anger—or fear. Or anger because he was afraid: Eric hadn’t missed the way Jake had picked out their mom from among the staff and patients who’d come out of the Med Center. His own heart had been in his mouth while the helicopters hovered overhead, knowing she was in there.
He could understand, too, that his brother was frustrated by being at a loose end and apparently superfluous. The Devil makes work for idle hands had been how Dad had always put it, each time Jake had gotten himself into yet another scrape when they’d been kids. That was how he’d set fire to the carpet in Dad’s office and how Jake and Stanley had ended up stuck on the roof of City Hall when the fireworks were going off. How he’d gotten mixed up with a man like Jonah. So that made Eric partly to blame for Jake’s current mood: he should’ve made the time to rework the roster to give Jake something to do. Taken time, too, to explain to Jake what had been going on while he’d been in Texas, why they were working with Beck now, and just where Beck’s authority ended.
Eric transferred his attention back to Beck. Watching him talking to Gray, Eric reflected that until Jake had returned, things had been working out pretty well. Though Beck had been quick to make suggestions, he’d also seemed mindful of his changed position and the limits of his new authority—or lack of it. Enough that Eric had been willing to let him take charge a few minutes ago without a second thought, confident Beck would relinquish control once the crisis was over.
In fact, Eric realized, he’d never really hated Beck, even when he’d been the enemy during their little rebellion. Heather had been right: Beck was a good man who’d taken a very wrong turn out of blinkered loyalty. And who’d owned up to that once he’d understood his mistake, and done what he could to make things right.
It was different for Jake, of course. Eric suspected what Jake felt for Beck was something more like the visceral hate he himself felt for Constantino. Torture was apt to have that effect.
Beck seemed to have finished bringing Gray up to speed. With a nod, the mayor turned his attention to the rest of the room. “So, how does this change things?”
Eric exchanged a look with Beck. “I guess we know a little more about Hoffman’s intentions? That he’s not just going to level the town and be done with it?”
“Not this time, no.” Beck hesitated. “But I’d like to have some Javelins stationed permanently in town. Took us a damn sight longer to respond than I’d like. If those helicopters had been looking for targets…. And it might make Hoffman think twice about trying again.”
“Or make us an even bigger target and give him the excuse he’s looking for?” Jake was leaning back against a bookcase, his arms folded, but his words dripped with contempt.
Beck gave him a steady look, his expression unchanged. “That’s a possibility, yes.”
A uncomfortable silence hung over the room, no one apparently willing to venture an opinion on either side. Eric was inclined to agree with Beck: he’d feel a lot happier if the means to hit back was closer at hand, and it wasn’t as if they were actively threatening Hoffman. But Jake clearly already thought Eric was too much on Beck’s side, so he kept quiet.
“Seems to me—” It was Davies’ Texan drawl that broke the silence. “—that little display out there was about reminding you of Hoffman’s power. Givin’ you a taste of what you could be up against. Intimidation. Scare tactics.” He turned toward Beck. “You know the man better‘n any of us. Does that sound like him?”
Beck nodded. “Yes. If he really wanted to hit the town, he didn’t need to put his own troops at risk like that. He could call on air support or bring up some heavy artillery.”
Gray leaned forward. “So we show him we’re not intimidated. If Eric’s amenable and you’re willing, major, I’ll agree to your plan to have some of your men stationed in town. Put ‘em on the roof of City Hall.”
Eric heard Jake snort quietly. A glance sideways showed he had a mulish expression on his face. Trying to keep the peace, reminded strongly of how much he and Jake had been at loggerheads in those first weeks after the September attacks, Eric said carefully, “Why don’t we try it for a few days and see how it goes?” When Beck nodded at him, he added, “Do you have any idea what Hoffman will do next?”
Beck shook his head. “Depends what his orders are from Cheyenne. Are they willing to wait us out? Expecting us to surrender when we see how hopeless things are? Or do they need to crush us quickly? From what Colonel Davies has told us, they have to be gearing up for war with Texas, and for things to escalate with Columbus. How long can they spare the kind of resources they’ll need to tie us down in a long siege?”
“Best guess?” Davies raised an eyebrow.
Beck gave a slight shrug. “I wish I could give you one. If I had some idea what was going on out there,” he gestured toward the window, “then maybe I could. If I knew what kind of materiel he’s bringing in—if he’s bring up reinforcements or heavy armament. But at the moment, we’re blind. Best I can do is figure out the minimum number of troops he has based on the new checkpoints, but beyond that….”
“Can Texas help with any of that?” Gray dipped his head in Davies’ direction.
“’Fraid not.” The Texan’s mustache drooped. “We’d sure love to have access to satellite surveillance but things didn’t fall out that way. Could ask my guys if we can ask Columbus but… would take a few days. And by the time we get it, it could well be out of date.”
At his side, Eric felt Jake stir and straighten. “Wait a minute. Didn’t you end up with Hawkins’ laptop?” He was looking at Beck. “Heather told me that was why you finally got your head out of your ass.”
Eric saw Beck blink in surprise, while Heather heaved a weary-sounding sigh and said in a patient yet irritated tone that Eric suspected she used on fractious third-graders, “Jake, that wasn’t at all what I—.”
“It’s okay.” Beck put out a hand her in her direction, cutting her off. He gave her a smile and a nod of reassurance and added softly. “I know.” He turned back to Jake. “Hawkins’ laptop was part of why I changed my mind, yes. And yes, we have it.”
The two men locked gazes for a moment, Jake clearly expecting more from Beck—some further apology or admission of guilt, perhaps—that Beck equally clearly wasn’t willing to give. Then Jake snorted and shook his head. Turning to face Gray, he said, “Hawkins had access to a satellite. It was how he let us know what New Bern were up to when they were attacking us. Maybe we can use that.”
“I’m afraid not.” Beck had a genuinely rueful expression on his face. “I had Lieutenant Maris thoroughly investigate the laptop after I’d seen its contents. To ensure we preserved the evidence and to find out what else it held. Unfortunately, once Cheyenne realized Hawkins was still alive, they seem to have rescinded his access to everything. Including the satellite. The laptop still has value as a piece of evidence against Tomarchio and Valente, but I’m afraid it’s no help to us otherwise.”
Jake glared at Beck for a moment longer and then sniffed derisively, before slumping back against the wall. Eric breathed a sigh of relief that Jake had decided to let the issue of Beck’s change of heart drop.
“So,” Gray cleared his throat, “seems the best we can do for the moment is for Colonel Davies to see what he can do for us. Meanwhile—.”
“Wait. What about making use of our tame spook?” That was Jake again, apparently not interested in giving Gray much more respect than he’d given Beck. Turning his gaze toward Jake again, Eric recognized the look on his brother’s face from back when they were kids; it was the one that had always meant someone—though very rarely Jake himself—was about to land in a whole heap of trouble thanks to whatever scheme Jake was cooking up.
“Our what?” Gray was staring at Jake, a startled expression on his face.
“Chavez.” Jake grinned. “The two of us could sneak through Hoffman’s lines, steal a humvee, take a look around pretending to be part of Hoffman’s crew, sneak back in….”
“Get yourself caught?” Beck’s tone was crushing. “You really think you can fool them out there?”
Jake smirked. “Well, we managed to fool you.”
Time to step in before things got out of hand again between Jake and Beck, Eric decided. Time to end the meeting, too, before anyone agreed to one of Jake’s crazy schemes just to get him to shut him up. “Look, it’s a possibility, Jake.” Eric tried not sound like he already thought the idea was a bad one. “Talk to Chavez, come up with a plan and we’ll discuss it at the next meeting.” He suspected both Jake and Chavez were now marked men and the chances of them getting spotted and picked up if they ventured outside Jericho were pretty high. He was also hopeful that Chavez would know that and, if he was anything like Hawkins, was capable of talking Jake out of his wilder ideas. “Meanwhile, I think we’ve all got things we need to be getting on with.”
Not waiting for a reply, he nodded to the room at large before heading for the door. Walking down the stairs, he rubbed the back of his hand across his forehead, trying to ignore the slight headache that had developed over the course of the meeting. Unless Jake and Beck could sort things out between them, they were gonna need Dale to smuggle in a few truckloads of tylenol.
Two hours later, Jake found himself watching Heather disappear into City Hall, wishing she’d taken him up on his invitation for them to eat lunch together. After the meeting in Gray’s office had broken up, they’d walked back out to the pumping station to finish firing up the turbine. They’d been silent on the way out, though Heather had thrown him the occasional look that had suggested she wanted to say something but didn’t quite know what. He wasn’t quite sure what to say either. He certainly wasn’t going to apologize for disagreeing about how to protect Jericho: just because he’d promised to work with Beck didn’t mean he was going to roll over and accept everything the man said. But he didn’t want to find himself arguing with Heather about Beck yet again.
Luckily, once they got out to the pumping station, having to talk about the turbine helped break the ice. And by the time he walked her back into town, they were cheerfully discussing the battery array she was planning and what they might be able to do with any batteries they managed to charge, and Jake was making her laugh by telling her about the time he and Stanley had used car batteries to try to power a party they’d held out at a disused barn—except the juice wasn’t quite enough for the record player and everything had played a fraction too slow. So he’d been a little disappointed, once they reached Main Street, that she’d declined his suggestion to go to Bailey’s. She’d hesitated for a moment and then made a face and said she had to get back to her desk: Lots to catch up on. Sorry. Jake hadn’t offered to lend a hand; he’d doubted it was anything he could help with, and probably most of it involved Beck in some way, anyway. She was still his liaison, after all, and she’d been neglecting that for the turbines.
The doors had closed behind Heather, but he went on standing looking up at them, until a hail from further down Main Street made him turn. He felt his spirits lift a little as he saw Chavez approaching: finding him had been on Jake’s very short list of things to do that afternoon.
Reaching Jake, Chavez thumped him cheerfully on the shoulder. “Hear I missed all the excitement earlier.”
“You mean Beck waving his dick around to show us all just how he’s ‘defending’ the town?” Jake still wasn’t sure Mack had the right of it when it came to Beck’s tactics.
Chavez gave Jake a look, but didn’t say anything. Which only annoyed Jake even more. He snorted to himself as he realized he was spoiling for a fight with someone.
He didn’t want to get on Chavez’s wrong side, though. Not if he was going to get him to agree to a reconnaissance mission. So he simply dipped his head in Chavez’s direction. “Where’ve you been, anyway? I haven’t seen you since I left Bailey’s the night we got back." Which was, he calculated with a start, nearly three days ago now.
“Catching up on my beauty sleep.” Chavez smirked at him. “Was out with Dale and the Rangers last night, seeing what we could smuggle back in.” He shrugged. “They need pack horses or mules or something. No way they’re going to be able to bring it all in on foot.”
“You think?” Jake tried to keep the bitterness out of his tone. That had been one of the suggestions he’d been trying, unsuccessfully, to make during the meeting that morning. Not to mention that Eric had let Chavez, who couldn’t have spent more than six weeks in Jericho all told, tag along on the expedition. Instead of taking along someone who actually knew the area like the back of his hand. Someone like Jake.
Again, Chavez gave him a look, but didn’t comment.
Jake cleared his throat. “So, are you up for another little trip?”
“What did you have in mind?” Though Chavez still seemed relaxed, Jake could tell he’d gotten his full attention.
“Beck’s been complaining he doesn’t have enough intelligence on what Hoffman’s up to. I was thinking we could maybe go get some.” Jake grinned at Chavez, sure the idea would appeal to him.
“Surveillance? Just the two of us?” Chavez raised his eyebrows. “Any particular target?”
“Umm, not really.” Jake shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Hoffman’s headquarters? Or his supply lines, maybe? We should be able to bring something back that Beck would find useful?”
“Could be pretty risky.” Chavez’s tone was light but held a warning note. “You can’t just run around out there like you’re playing paintball, you know.”
“I know.” Jake gritted his teeth. What did Chavez think he and the Rangers had been up to in the months before the ASA had arrived? Wiring up the Tacoma Bridge for the sheer hell of it? His conversation with Hawkins on the bridge came back to him: Would you even know when you’re in over your head? Pushing the memory aside, he gave Chavez an encouraging nod, trying to urge him into saying yes. “But useful, right?”
“Maybe.” Chavez still didn’t sound convinced. He regarded Jake thoughtfully. “Did you talk to Beck and your brother about this?”
Jake narrowed his eyes, feeling his temper rise again. It was becoming clear that Chavez had no intention of helping and was trying to palm Jake off, the way Eric and Beck had done already. At this rate, the three of them would just give him the permanent runaround between them. “They told me to talk to you. Come up with a plan. But if you’re not interested—.”
He started to swing away, but Chavez caught his arm. “I didn’t say that. But there’s no point running the risk of getting caught if we’re not likely to come back with anything useful.” He held Jake’s gaze for a moment and then gave a quick dip of the head. “Let me have a think about it, okay? Then we’ll sit down and have a proper talk.”
“Okay.” Jake nodded. It was something, he supposed. Even if he had the feeling, as he watched Chavez disappear into City Hall, that the other man was just humoring him and had no real intention of coming up with a workable plan.
Inside Bailey’s, Mary was swiping a cloth over the bar, even though it was already polished to a shine, and resisting the urge to go look for a second time at the rhubarb wine brewing in the closed kitchen or recount her dwindling stocks of booze for the third time that day. Not that they were dwindling very much at the moment; the bar was empty, as it had been most days at this time since they’d split from Cheyenne control. The majority of her customers were either out with the Rangers, were sleeping after being on the night patrols or were just trying to keep life going without the benefit of electricity or gas.
At least the place should be busy for a while this evening; Eric had stopped by after the morning meeting to tell her they wanted to use her satellite dish to see if they could pick up any news broadcasts from Texas—or further afield—that might give them an idea what was happening in the world beyond their patrol lines. He’d promised her there’d be a gas ration in it that would allow her to keep the coffee hotplate on, if not the lights. And it should bring in a few customers.
She drifted along the bar, wondering if she should use the peace and quiet to take down and polish the glasses hanging in the racks above her head. Stop them from gathering dust. It would at least be something to do, something to keep her from repeatedly wandering over to the front windows and checking yet again that City Hall was still in one piece, that Eric was probably still safe. She snorted to herself. Not as if she wouldn’t have noticed if something had happened; the helicopters mid-morning had been audible enough, drawing her outside, along with a couple of guys who’d stopped by for coffee.
The guys—they were both Rangers—had taken off toward the Sheriff’s Office once they’d realized what was going on, while she’d stood in the street, peering upward as the helicopters had circled and hovered. Lowering her gaze, she’d seen Eric emerge on to the front steps of City Hall, a rifle in his hand. He’d seen her a moment later and called to her to get back inside. She’d wanted to tell him the same. Hell, she’d wanted to go over there and drag him back with her. Instead, swallowing down her fear, she’d nodded at him and gone back into the bar, knowing enough to stay away from the windows.
Knowing, too, that he was as safe as anybody, and safer than most of the Rangers; as Sheriff, he spent most of his time behind the lines, coordinating the patrols and checkpoints, rather than in the firing line itself. Still didn’t stop her carrying around a constant seed of worry, though.
The sound of the door opening dragged her from her dark thoughts and she forced herself to plaster on a welcoming smile for a potential customer. A little to her surprise, it was Jake who made his way into the bar.
“Hey.” He peered around as he approached her, clearly wondering if the two of them were the only ones in the place. “You open? Was hoping I could get something to eat.”
Mary put down the cloth she was still holding. “Yeah, we’re open. Kitchen’s closed, though.” Both her chefs were out manning checkpoints. “But I could do you a sandwich.”
“That’d be great. Thanks.” Jake slid onto a stool. He swiveled round to watch her as she headed for the kitchen. “Need a short-order cook?”
“You?” She laughed as she reached for a loaf of bread. “Haven’t you got anything better to do?”
“Apparently not.” He scrubbed a hand across his face. “Been helping Heather hook up the turbine out at the pumping station this morning and she’s got me going round this afternoon trying to badger people into giving up their car batteries for some kinda energy storage thing she’s planning.”
“Sounds like an important job.” God knows, Mary had hoped she’d never have to go through anything like the last winter ever again once Beck and his men had restored power to the town. Still, she guessed it wasn’t the kind of thing Jake had expected to be doing after he returned to Jericho. Not after the hair-raising account he’d given his first evening back of his exploits on the way to and from Texas.
Slicing the sandwiches she’d made in half and piling them on a plate, she carried them over to Jake and set them down in front of him. He grabbed one and bit into it, making an appreciative noise as he chewed. “Thanks.” He waved the rest of the sandwich in her direction.
Mary rounded the bar and began taking down the glasses hanging over it; she’d decided to polish them after all. “I’m sure Heather appreciates the help.”
“Yeah.” Jake took another bite of his sandwich. “Guess it gives her more time to do Beck’s PR for him.” Though his words were muffled by the mouthful of food, there was no mistaking the disgust and anger in them.
Mary pursed her lips as she reached for the next set of glasses. Sounded like it wasn’t just being kept off the front line that was bothering Jake. She could understand that; she’d been a bit surprised herself how ready the town had been to welcome Beck back. After this morning’s display of strength by Hoffman, though, she was pretty glad they had. And she had to hand it to Beck: over the past week or so, he’d impressed her with the way he’d walked a careful line between meeting his own interests and not running roughshod over Jericho’s leaders as he supplied his military expertise and his men to defend Jericho.
She also knew he’d impressed Eric, and that Eric had been less than impressed by Jake upsetting the balance they’d achieved. He’d muttered something about it when he’d finally gotten home last night, just as she was closing up the bar, before dismissing it with a shake of the head and pulling her into a weary embrace.
Picking up a clean cloth, she began polishing the glasses. “You know,” she said carefully, “I’m going to be the first to say Beck got a lot of things wrong, but since he defected…. I really think he’s been trying.”
Jake snorted. “That’s what Heather said.”
Mary held up the glass and inspected it, before hanging it back in place. “Heather’s a smart woman.” Ignoring Jake’s disdainful sniff, she picked up another glass. “She kept promising us he’d come around, and she was right.”
“Yeah.” Jake crammed the last of the sandwiches into his mouth. “When he had the evidence handed to him on a plate.”
Mary didn’t bother trying to argue with him that it was the same for most people; Jake clearly wasn’t in the mood to listen to reason. Instead, she jerked her head toward the plate. “You want some coffee as well?”
“Please.” Jake pushed the plate aside.
Mary was just pouring the coffee into the cup she’d placed in front of him when she heard the door opening again. This time it was Bill.
“Mary. Jake.” He nodded at them both as he looked around. “Quiet in here.”
“Uh-huh.” Mary finished filling Jake’s cup. “Can I get you anything?”
“I’ll have one of those to go.” Bill nodded at the pot in Mary’s hand.
“Sure thing.” Mary busied herself filling a styrofoam cup and finding a lid. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Bill was leaning back against the bar next to Jake, resting on his elbows.
“So, that was quite some show Hoffman put on this morning.” Bill made it sound like they’d all been attending the local air display.
Mary shook her head as she pressed the lid onto the cup to seal it. Bill had a real knack for enjoying bad news, and for picking at other people’s scabs, didn’t he? Seemed Jake agreed with her, from the unimpressed noise he made in response.
She wasn’t much surprised when, as she turned back with the coffee, Bill added with a smirk, “Good thing the cavalry came rolling into town to save us, wasn’t it? Bet those flyboys weren’t expecting that, huh?”
Mary rolled her eyes. Way to pour oil on the flames, Bill.
“You mean Beck?” Jake had twisted in his seat and was staring at Bill with narrowed eyes.
Bill—being Bill; Mary shook her head again—didn’t seem to notice Jake’s anger. “Uh-huh. Nice having our own private army, isn’t it?” Taking the coffee from Mary with a quick thanks, he began to turn away—before he turned back, apparently having been struck by another thought. Reaching out, he thumped Jake on the arm and grinned at him. “’Course, if we had our own air force, you’d be just the guy, right?”
“Right.” Jake sounded a little bemused as he watched Bill leave, and he went on staring at the door long after it had closed, a distracted expression on his face.
Sometimes, Mary reflected, clearing away Jake’s plate and wiping up the crumbs he’d scattered, she didn’t know how Bill managed to get through the day without getting himself beaten up at least once.
A day later, Heather was kneeling on the pumping station floor, leaning over the battery array taking shape under her hands from a mismatched collection of batteries Jake had rounded up for her the previous day. When someone stepped into the doorway, blocking most of the light, she started. The intruder’s approach had been masked by the satisfying whirr of the turbine blades outside and the cheerful bubbling of the water as the pumps drew it from deep underground to refill the tank above her.
Instinctively, she rocked back into a crouch, her hand closing tightly around the pliers she’d been using: an inadequate weapon but the best available. Then she relaxed as the man spoke and she recognized Eric’s voice.
“Heather? Do you have a moment?”
Putting down the pliers, she he got to her feet and wiped her hands on a rag. “Sure” She gestured for Eric to lead them back outside. She could do with a break: the pumping station was surprisingly chilly and smelled of damp.
Outside, she turned her face up to the sun, enjoying its warmth for a moment, before she turned to face Eric. In the bright light, she couldn’t miss the worried expression on his face. “What is it?”
Eric lifted an arm and rubbed his palm across the back of his neck. “Have you seen Jake this morning?”
Heather’s hands tightened on the rag she still held. She shook her head. “No. Not since he gave me the batteries yesterday afternoon. When he didn’t turn up for the meeting this morning….” She gave a rueful laugh. “It was a bit of a relief, really.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Eric rolled his eyes. “But it wasn’t just the meeting he missed. Tried to find him afterward to tell him I’d put him on the roster for a patrol tonight and I can’t find him anywhere. He’s not out at the ranch, can’t find him anywhere in town, and no one’s seen him today. Looks like no one’s seen him since yesterday afternoon, in fact.”
Heather pushed her hair back behind her ear, a knot forming in her stomach. “Do you think he’s okay?”
“God knows.” Eric scuffed his toe in the dirt. “I know he’s… not been finding things easy since he got back to town. Beck….”
“Yeah.” Heather crossed her arms, feeling guilty. It was all her fault Beck was working with them. But it was the right thing to do; she was sure of it. Beck and the town needed each other. She just hadn’t anticipated how much it would hurt Jake, or how much it hurt her to see him hurting like that when she couldn’t do anything about it. “You think he’s going to do something… stupid?”
Eric looked up from contemplating his feet and snorted. “If I know my big brother….” He heaved a sigh. “How did he seem when you saw last him? Did he say anything?”
Heather shook her head. “He just apologized for not being able to get more batteries. Which was…,” she shrugged, “there was no need for that. He got me plenty enough for me to test things out with, and maybe when people see it working, they’ll be willing to give up more.”
“And you told him that?” Eric caught her eye, his brows lifting to emphasize the question.
“Yeah.” She bit her lip, her gaze sliding away. “But maybe he thought I was just humoring him….”
Jake certainly hadn’t looked very convinced when she’d thanked him, or like he’d felt it was a job well done. He’d looked miserable and frustrated, and like he had too much on his mind. She’d badly wanted to offer him some comfort, but the words wouldn’t come, just like they hadn’t come that morning on the way back out to the pumping station. It was okay when the two of them were talking about turbines or batteries, when they were keeping things professional, but she didn’t trust herself not to say or do something stupid if things got too personal between them. So she’d wrapped her arms around herself, aching with the urge to hug him.
“Hey,” Eric reached out and gave her arm a squeeze, bringing her back to the present. “Whatever’s going on with Jake, it’s not your fault, okay?”
Heather wasn’t sure Eric was right about that, but she forced herself to return his smile, though she suspected hers was as unconvincing as his. “I know.” She drew in a deep breath, trying to ease the knot in her stomach. “If I see him, I’ll let him know you’re looking for him. And if I think of anything else or anywhere he could be….”
Eric gave her arm another squeeze. “Thanks. And try not to worry. He’ll be fine.” He let out a humorless laugh. “He always is.”
With a final nod of his head, he turned back to the horse he’d tethered nearby. Watching him ride off, Heather wished she could share his confidence that Jake would be all right. But everything had changed in the past week, and the kind of things Jake could be getting up to…. They weren’t like playing Clyde to Emily’s Bonnie while they went on trick-or-treat expeditions any more, were they?
Part Four of "Tailspin"
