It's Probably Me

By: Michelle Sinclair
Rated PG.  Drama.
                                
       If The Night Turned Cold And The Stars Looked Down
          And You Hug Yourself On The Cold Cold Ground
           You Wake The Morning In A Stranger's Coat
                      No One Would You See
              You Ask Yourself, Who'd Watch For Me
                My Only Friend, Who Could It Be
                      It's Hard To Say It 
             I Hate To Say It, But It's Probably Me
                             -Sting
             It's Probably Me'--Ten Summoner's Tales
                             *****
Constable Benton Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police 
stood at the side of a bed in Cook County Hospital in Chicago.  The steady
beeping of the electrocardiograph was the only sound in the room.  He
had to check periodically just to reassure himself that the man lying
on the bed was still alive; still breathing.  Ben looked down at his
best friend Ray Vecchio, lying there, lost somewhere between life and
death.  It was almost 5 A.M. and Ray had been out of surgery for hours
now.  Blood, Ray's blood, was still on him. It was caked on his hands,
and on his red tunic and on the white shirt underneath.  Ray's blood.
Everywhere. Ben felt the tears begin to come again, but he fought with
all his will and kept them at bay.   Now is not the time for this,' he
thought.   I must remain focused if I am going to catch the man who did
this.'  But who was he kidding?  He had only one thought pervading his
mind.  That thought was revenge. He felt a blood lust swell in his heart.
He would pay for this.  Violent, ghastly thoughts permeated his mind.
He was hard pressed to fight the images.  It was such a brutal scene
to have to relive but he could not halt the 
recollection and finally gave into it . . .

He could still hear the shots ringing out.  Could still hear the screeching
of the tires as the man sped away.  He had not pursued the man who had
just made an attempt on his life.  He couldn't.  He had a more pressing
matter to attend to.  He yelled for someone to call an 
ambulance.  Someone had scampered off to do that for him.  But he feared
the ambulance would never get there in time.  Ray lay in his arms, bleeding
to death.  Ben knew this.  There was so much blood.  So much!  It poured
onto the street, onto Ben.  Ray had slipped out of consciousness a minute
earlier.  Benny had said "Ray, you shouldn't have taken those bullets
for me.  They were meant for me."  And Ray had replied "You'd
have done the same for me, Bento." 

Now, there was nothing Benny could do as the life seeped out of Ray's
body.  "Ray, don't you die on me," he implored.  He felt the
tears begin to stain his cheeks.  It was his fault, dammit!  He had no
one else in this world, only his friend Ray.  His red tunic grew redder
still with the color of Ray's blood . . .

"I am so sorry, Ray," Ben said as he again struggled to stop
the onslaught of tears.  But soon he found his body trembling with sobs.
He wept uncontrollably now.  "It's okay Benny, I forgive you."
Ben felt his throat constrict with what he thought was Ray's voice. 
But he looked down and Ray was still unconscious. 

"Voices.  Wonderful," Ben moaned.  There was suddenly a figure
standing beside him, staring down at Ray's body with him.

"Is he gonna make it?" the figure asked.

"The doctors are unsure at this time.  Apparently the odds are fifty-fifty."

"Naw, I'd say more like 60-40 that he's gonna pull through.  I know
the guy pretty well." 

Ben looked for the first time at the figure.

"I don't see how you could know more than the doc--RAY?"  Ben
almost fainted.

"I know Benny, believe me, I'm freaked out too."

"I don't . . . you're . . . I mean aren't you . . . you aren't dead,
are you?"

"Nope, I don't think so.  Well look, that heart monitor's goin'
pretty strongly.  I'm as confused as you are, Benny."

"Ray, what are you doing here?"

"Well, I wish I knew, Fraser.  Hey, you look pretty bad, Benny.
You should probably go home and get some rest."

"Are you serious?  I'm not the one in a coma, Ray, and you're giving
me advice?"

"Benny you gotta pull it together.  Forget about me.  You're the
one in trouble now."

"I'm the one in trouble?  Ray, I don't think you have a very good
grasp on the situation."

"Benny, he's not done yet.  He didn't want to get me.  He wants
you six feet under.  And he won't rest until you're dead."

"That's not important right now."

"Not important?  Fraser!  There's a killer out there.  You know
who he is and you're the only one who can stop him.  Now go do your 
job constable!"

"You're right Ray.  I have a job to do.  I must go now.  I'll see
you soon."  Ben turned to leave and began toward to door.

"Hey Benny?"

"Yes Ray?"

"70-30"

Benny smiled faintly.  "Understood, Ray."
                             *****
        When Your Belly's Empty And the Hunger's So Real
       And You're Too Proud To Beg And Too Dumb To Steal
            You Search The City For Your Only Friend
                      No One Would You See
               You Ask Yourself, Who Could It Be
         A Solitary Voice To Speak Out And Set You Free
                        I Hate To Say It
             I Hate To Say It, But It's Probably Me
                             -Sting
             It's Probably Me'--Ten Summoner's Tales
                                
Ben walked all the way home from the hospital.  The wind tore 
mercilessly through his body.  But he didn't feel the cold.  He 
could feel nothing actually except for a determination that burned so
hot it might consume him if he wasn't careful.  When he got home, he
showered.  He watched as Ray's blood was washed off of his 
hands and slid down the drain.  He changed his clothes.  He didn't put
on another uniform.  He dressed in jeans and a black polo shirt.  He
put on his leather jacket and he and Dief left for the consulate.  Upon
arriving at the consulate he waited outside Inspector Thatcher's office.
She was a little surprised to see him there.  "Constable . . . I
thought you'd still be at the hospital."

"No ma'am."

"Has there been any change?"

"No ma'am."

"Well, how is Detective Vecchio doing?"

"He's holding his own ma'am."

"That's good news.  Look constable I realize that this is a very
difficult situation for you and I understand if you'd like a few days
off.  . . . "

"That will be unnecessary, ma'am.  However I would like permission
to search for the man responsible for injuring D.t. Vecchio and bring
him to justice."

"No.  Absolutely not.  Let the Chicago police handle this Fraser.
It's their job."

"You don't understand ma'am.  I know who shot him.  I arrested him
several years ago when I was stationed in the Territories.  His name
is Paul Granger."
"Granger?  The crooked Mountie?"

"That's the one ma'am.  He killed two officers in the Territories
and I brought him in.  He came here for revenge on me apparently.  I
am responsible for Ray's condition.  It is therefore my duty to capture
Granger."

"I suppose there is nothing I can do to stop you, is there?"

"Probably not ma'am."

"Understood.  Proceed constable."

"Thank-you ma'am."  He turned to leave.

"Fraser."

"Yes Inspector?"

"Be careful."

He nodded curtly and left.  

                             *****
Ben had been searching Chicago for three days for the whereabouts of
former Mountie Paul Granger.  D.t.  Huey was assigned to the 
case as well and he also had no luck.  But Ben knew that 
eventually Paul would find him.  He wandered the streets, waiting for
Paul to see him, to make his move.  There were times he 
thought he'd glimpsed Granger in the shadows, but it was just his eyes
playing tricks on him.

                When We Set Out On This Journey
               There Were No Doubts In Our Minds
                We Set Our Eyes To The Distance
                We Would Find What We Would Find
                We Took Courage From Our Numbers
                 What We Sought We Did Not Fear
            Sometimes We'd Glimpse A Shadow Falling
                   The Shadow Would Disappear
                But Our Thoughts Kept Returning
                   To Something The Boy Said
                       As We Turned To Go
            He Said You'll Never See Our Faces Again
               You'll Be Food For A Carrion Crow
                             -Sting
          Something The Boy Said'--Ten Summoner's Tales
                                
Benton returned to his apartment finally after searching all day for
Granger. He knew he needed rest if he was going to be able to 
bring Granger down.  He had called the hospital from the consulate. 
Ray's condition had improved slightly and Ben would visit him the next
morning.  He removed his father's diary from his locker and sat in bed
and began thumbing through the pages. There was a knock 
on the door.  His heart began to thunder.  Maybe it was Granger, maybe
this was his opportunity.  He picked up his hunting knife and went to
the door. He suddenly wished he hadn't sent Dief to spend the night with
Willie.  He opened the door.  "Inspector." 

"Fraser  . . .  " she said, noticing his level of undress.
"I'm sorry to come by without calling."

"I don't have a phone," he said, dumbfounded.

"Yes, I know.  May I . . . "

"Of course." He stepped back and she went in and he closed
the door behind her.  

"How's the search going?"

"Slowly.  But he'll reveal himself soon."

"Because he's coming after you."

"Yes."

"Aren't you . . . "

"Aren't I what ma'am?"

'Afraid,' she wanted to say because she was terrified for him.  

"Cold," she said instead.

"No," he replied.  He was in such a state of confusion and
disarray that he was unaware that the fact that his wearing only a pair
of white boxers might be uncomfortable to Meg.

"I see.  What will you do when her finds you?"

"What will I do?  I will capture him."

"That easy, is it?"

"It's not easy at all."

"Ben I'm very worried about you."

That lifted the haze a little, she never called him 'Ben.'  "I appreciate
that ma'am but you need not be concerned."

"I'm responsible for you.  If something happens . . ."

"I am responsible for what happens to me.  Not you.  Inspector,
if you're here to tell me to get off this case then I am afraid I am
going to have to refuse."

"That's not why I'm here."

"Why are you here then ma'am?"

"Just to . . .  make sure that you're all right."

"I'm fine."

"Are you?"  She reached out and put her hand on his chest.
"Your heart's hammering."

He flinched at her touch and backed off.  "Ma'am I think you should
leave.  Please."  

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"I know he's your friend Ben.  I understand the hurt."

"You can't possibly."

"I want to help you.  Talk to me."

"I can't."  She put her hand on him again.  This time around
his hand.  She could see him tense up.

"Ben, what's wrong?  Are you afraid to be touched?  Afraid you might
feel something?"  He was thinking about the time they kissed on
top of that train while a madman had been trying to blow up 
Chicago.  

"I don't have anyone other than Ray.  He's the only friend I have
in this world," he said softly.

"He's going to make it."

"Yeah, maybe."

"He will.  And he's not the only one you have."  Their eyes
were locked and suddenly he found her in his arms and his lips where

against hers and they were riveted in a passionate kiss that seemed to
reach all the way into the depths of his soul.  But as soon as it had
started, it was over. 

"I have to go," she said tenderly.

"Yes.  Thank you . . . for . . . coming over."

"I'll see you at the consulate.  Take care."  He watched her
leave.  He didn't understand what had taken place between them just then.
It was so out of character for her, for him.  He wandered over to the
window and looked outside.  It was an oddly quiet evening.  Abruptly,
there was an arm around his throat.  The grip was so strong he could
scarce budge it.  He tried to escape.  It was almost useless.  Then he
felt the cold steel of a gun against his left temple.

"At last," breathed the voice.

"Coward," Ben answered with a calm that surprised even himself.
"This is the only way you know how to win, Granger."

"You're right Benton.  I'm not the man you are.  We can't all be
living legends."

He heard the click of the gun.  "Will this make you happy Granger?
Another dead man? Another corpse left in your wake?"

"Is he dead?"

"Who?"

"That guy.  The one that took the bullets I meant for you.  I would
say it was a waste of good ammunition but I so love the pretty 
color of blood as it leaks from my victims."

"You're insane, Granger.  You need help.  Turn yourself in now.
There's still hope."

"There's no hope for you Constable.  I'm afraid this is the end
of your exalted career."  He squeezed the trigger.  Ben's heart
stopped as he heard the shot.  But nothing happened.  Ben's blood ran
cold.  All the color drained from his face.  All he could hear was the
distant sound of Granger laughing maniacally.  "Blanks," he
laughed.  Ben had to force himself to take deep breaths.  He was hyperventilating.
He heard the gun clatter to the floor.  "Unfortunately for you this
one contains the real thing!"  He had pushed Ben back and now took
aim at him with a different gun.  "Sit!"  he ordered.

"No.  Do it.  For once in your life don't be a coward and do it."
As Ben spoke these words, he heard clicking of shoes on the floor in
the hall outside his apartment.  It was Meg.  She was coming back.  Out
of the corner of his eye he saw the folders she had left on his table.
She knocked on the door.

"Ignore it," said Granger.

"Fraser?  Open up.  I left some files inside.  Fraser?" 

"She knows I'm in here."

"If you don't want me to kill your girlfriend too, you'll ignore
it."  

Before Ben could answer, the door began to swing open.  As 
Granger swung and was about take aim at Meg, Ben seized his 
opportunity and lunged at him.  He knocked the gun away and 
struggled with Granger.  They exchanged punches for a time before Meg
picked up the gun that Granger had just dropped.

"STOP!" She yelled.  But the men didn't.  They were moving
around too much and were perilously close to the open window.  Granger

had Ben over the ledge, hands around his throat.  Meg aimed the 
gun and pulled the trigger and shot Granger in the leg.  He reeled back
from Ben in agony.  Ben was able to gain equilibrium and 
deliver a final blow to Granger's jaw to knock him out.  

"Nice shot ma'am."

"Thank you constable."

"You realize that you have fired a gun illegally and under ordinary
circumstances I would have to arrest you ma'am."

"Actually Fraser there are extenuating circumstances that would
preclude you from having to do that."

"Quite right ma'am.  You did save my life after all."

"Let's bring him in, shall we?"

"Yes ma'am."
                             *****
        You're Not The Easiest Person I Ever Got To Know
       And It's Hard For Us Both To Let Our Feelings Show
          Some Would Say I should Let You Go Your Way
                    You'll Only Make Me Cry
                If There's One Guy, Just One Guy
            Who'd Lay Down His Life For You And Die
                      It's Hard To Say It
           It's Hard To Say It, But It's Probably Me
                             -Sting
             It's Probably Me'--Ten Summoner's Tales

It was two weeks later.  Ben was back in that cold white hospital room
of Ray's.  But this time, the mood was decidedly more upbeat. Ray was
recovering and had come out of his coma.

"You're kidding me Benny.  The Dragon Lady saved your life?"

"I'm not kidding Ray.  If not for the inspector I wouldn't be alive."

"Well Benny, if not for you I wouldn't be alive."

"Actually Ray, it's my fault you were injured in the first place.
If not for me you wouldn't be here."

"But you could've just left me in the street and gone after Granger."

"And left you to die?  You think I could do that Ray?"

"I don't know Fraser.  You're usually pretty determined to get your
man."

"I'm hurt Ray."

"No Benny, I'm hurt."  Both men laughed now at Ray's little
joke.  

"Ray?  Do you remember anything about the time when you were in
the coma?"

"You know Benny, that's the weird thing.  I think I had this dream
about talking to you.  Like an out of body experience, ya know?"

"Yes Ray.  I know."
                             *****
       When The World's Gone Crazy And It Makes No Sense
       There's Only One Voice That Comes To Your Defense
          The Jury's Out And Your Eyes Search The Room
          And One Friendly Face Is All You Need To See
                If There's One Guy, Just One Guy
            Who'd Lay Down His Life For You And Die
                      It's Hard To Say It
             I Hate To Say It, But It's Probably Me
                             -Sting
             It's Probably Me'--Ten Summoner's Tales
                                
The extradition hearing was over.  Paul Granger was being remanded to
Canadian authorities and would be tried there for the crimes he committed.
It had been promised that Granger would be severely 
punished for almost killing an American detective.  Ben began to wheel
Ray out of the court room.  

"What do you think Benny?  What are the odds he'll get a life sentence?"

"Well, baring a totally incompetent prosecutor . . . I'd say the
odds are . . . 70-30."  Ben smirked as he said this.

"70-30?  That's it?  Are you . . . "  Ray suddenly looked up
at Benny.  "Did . . . did you just say 70-30?"

"Yes Ray, that's what I said.  Something wrong Ray?"

"No . . . no . . . just keep pushing me would ya?  I hate court
rooms." 

"Understood Ray," Ben said and the smile wouldn't leave his
face. 

1996 by Michelle Sinclair