Disclaimer: The following is a work of fan fiction based on Human Target which belongs to Fox.It is in no way intended to infringe on the copyrights of Fox.
Thank you Movieexpert1978 for your help, support and beta reading.
Two days later
Martha had just finished her breakfast, smiling and chatting with her daughter; she was trying her best to think of this as nothing more than a normal day. But she knew difference, today she would present her evidence to Sarah Freeman, her supervisor, she had no doubt in her mind that a court case would follow. The ramifications of what she found in the company accounts would lead to serious criminal charges being leveled against senior members of the firm. It was obvious to her that only high level manipulation of data had allowed the thefts to go undetected.
Her cell phone rang, she looked at the caller ID, and saw it was Chance, "Good morning Mr. Chance," she stopped in mid-sentence, "of course come straight over, I'll give you the address… Oh you already have it, how…never mind. I'll see you in twenty minutes then."
She ended the call, "Mom are you okay." Her daughter asked, concern written across her face.
"I never told Mr. Chance, my address, it was safer that way, it was one of the rules that Chris," she added "my Christopher Chance had told me, to do if I was ever dealing with Guerrero. So how did he know?"
When the car pulled up at her house it was Winston that got out and went she answered the door he said. "We need to talk Mrs. Travis, and we've brought someone with us, I don't want you to worry about him, Chance has it all under control."
Puzzled she stepped out on the porch, and then took a quick breath and a step back.
"Mr. Guerrero, it's been a while." Her voice has a tremor to it, but Chance was impressed, he had seen seriously connected men, break down into jabbering idiots when they met Guerrero. The lady was holding it together well.
Guerrero was at least a foot smaller than Winston, which should have given her all the reassurance that she needed, but it didn't because she knew all about him from Christopher.
"Nice dress," the remark from Guerrero totally threw her, as he stepped past her into the house and made a beeline for the breakfast table.
"Mr. Chance, this isn't what I expected…" Martha frowned "and how did you know where to find me?"
"Dude, finding people is something I am good at." Guerrero said as he took a roll, and a slice of cold ham, from a plate on the table and began to eat.
It was then she noticed that Junior, no Chance, was dressed in a suit that wouldn't have look out of place in a boardroom or a law office. He gave her a smile, "You said that the supervisor, err Sarah Freeman is that right," seeing her nod he carried on, "said you could take a friend, with you, I need you to take me to that meeting."
"Why, Sarah's been nothing but supportive of me, she arranged this meeting."
"Lady, the contract on your life hit the market two days after you talked to her. Do you really think that's a coincidence?" Guerrero said.
"You came for the contract," Martha asked.
"One debt, one life, remember…" He didn't finish the sentence, Chance cut across Guerrero,
"He's the reason you're still alive, he's taken out four hitters already, now it's time to end it. I need to get into her office so that I can bug it"
What Chance had said about him taking out the hitters made Martha look at Guerrero in a new light, the man was an immoral killer, that was true, but he took his word seriously as her Chance said he would. But she was still uneasy having him this close to her family. She would have to trust Winston that Chance had Guerrero under control and that he was truly on her side.
The meeting with Sarah Freeman went as Chance expected, he played the part of the lawyer to a T, his job was to rattle the woman and see where it lead them. Once out of the office and clear of the building he circled round with Martha to a utility van, climbing in, and they took a seat.
Guerrero was monitoring the feed from the bug in her office, he nodded to them pushed his headphones back and then turned the feed up.
It was Sarah's voice, "She had a lawyer with her, and he's already talking about going to the DA on this." Sarah paused "I thought you had taken care of this, why the hell is she in my office, you promised me that she would….." the woman's voice stopped as she pulled her temper back. "Remember I won't be the only one, and don't think that that rich bitch of a wife is going to protect you. It's her money remember." The phone call was cut off abruptly.
Guerrero turned to Chance, "I think it's time we had a talk with Faulkner."
Chance nodded his agreement as he said, "In the meantime, I think we should move Martha and the family."
"No bro, we need control of the area where Faulkner's crew is going to hit for that we need a decoy." The slight smile that Guerrero gave Martha as he said it did nothing to steady her nerves, he was enjoying this.
"Chris always told our, his clients that they had to be prepared to put their lives on the line, to get their lives back. I am prepared to do that. I trust you." She looked Guerrero straight in the eyes, "all of you."
Three hours later
Winston pulled up along from the bar when, "Took your time dude." Winston's head snapped round as the back door to the car opened and closed and Guerrero took a seat, leaning forward the smaller man added "Faulkner arrived around forty five minutes ago."
Chance looked at the bar, "then it's time we had a talk with him," he started to get out of the car when he saw Winston doing the same he said. "You best stay put, the guys in there will have you pegged as a cop, and the minute you walk through the door."
"I am your back up, Chance, you…..." he broke off as he heard Guerrero snickering and says something that he didn't catch. "Okay what's funny; Chance what's he finding so funny."
Chance ignored his question, "We'll be in and out fifteen minutes at the most, if you hear anything bring the car round fast. Don't worry; we've handled situations like this before"
"That's what I am worried about." Winston said under his breath as he watched the two of them cross the road to the bar, the last thing he needed was his partner back sliding, which given who he was with, was a possibility, so waiting until the door to the bar closed behind them he got out and followed them, if Chance thought he was letting that killer watch his back he was dreaming.
Guy Faulkner, was reading the racing form, when he sensed someone and looked up, and pulled back quickly, "Junior it's… been a while." He added, trying to keep his voice normal, as he saw that Junior wasn't alone, if there was one man that scared him it was Guerrero, Junior would just kill you, but Guerrero, would make you suffer first.
Chance got straight to the point as he sat down. "You've been recruiting hitters for a contract on a woman, name of Travis. I want to know who's put the contract out on her".
"Sorry I don't know anything about it." Guy said, swallowing hard, knowing that he was lying to one of the men that knew the truth.
"You hired four hitters when I turned it down." Guerrero told him, "You should have hired better."
Guy looked at Guerrero in horror, "you killed them."
Guerrero gave a slight tilt of the head, "Dude what you think?"
The big man blanched, forcing himself to turn away from Guerrero and look at Junior, "You have to understand Junior if I start giving out peoples name I'll be finished, I am a businessman it has to be confidential….…..I am in hard place here."
Guerrero cut in smoothly, "Your daughter the one that's working on Foreman Street, is she still driving the white Nissan, it's been a while, an old car like that, regular health hazard."
Guy's face fell, "Junior, please you can't let him. Heather, she… pleases."
Chance leaned forward, "All we need to know is who put the contract out and how many more hitters you put on her, then you can walk away from this job."
Winston was pleased when he entered the bar there were enough people there for him to feel confident in taking a stool at the counter, and order a beer. Casually he looked round, Chance was sat at a table with Guerrero facing a big man who was now mopping at this face with a large hanky chief, and his body language told him the man was scared. So this was Guy Faulkner the broker, the man was clearly agitated he was looking from Chance to Guerrero and back again, as if he couldn't get the words out quick enough.
Neither Chance nor Guerrero looked at him as they passed him at the counter, after a slow count Winston drained his beer and followed them out of the bar, when he reached the car Guerrero was gone and Chance was sat behind the wheel. The moment he got into the car, Chance was on him. "What the hell were you thinking?!"
Winston snapped back at him. "Watching your back, Chance, you really think that I was going to trust him. For god sake, he was sent to kill you, remember."
"Guerrero didn't kill me then, so he's not going to kill me now." Chance looked past him and out of the window, refusing to admit his former fears about Guerrero to Winston.
Like a dog with a bone, Winston, wasn't about to give up. "Are you sure that you can trust that animal." Winston saw the way Chance tensed, his hands tightening on the steering wheel.
"Don't call him that Winston; he doesn't deserve that…."
"He what?" Winston's anger flared, "You have to be joking …"
"Who have you been speaking too?" Chance put in levelly, as he glanced across at him.
"People," Winston said.
"I doubt it," Chance paused "Okay keep your sources, but remember one thing, you don't want to piss him off, the last person to do that ended up as dog food."
Winston nodded, and then did a double take as he got a sinking feeling, "You're not using that as a metaphor are you."
Chance didn't reply, leaving Winston deep in thought. Finally the bigger man broke the silence, "did Faulkner confirm the name Guerrero got from the wire trace."
"Yeah he did."
Two nights later
The three men considered themselves good at what they did, Faulkner had a reputation of only using the best, and they reveled in that feeling of being the best. Faulkner had been his usual tight mouthed self when he had given them the contract. When pushed he had said that there had been a couple of other hitters on the contract, but they had failed, he had then buttered them up, offering them more money.
It was now that Leo was beginning to wonder if they shouldn't have asked a bit more about what happened to the other men. Because the minute that they hit the house to kill her and anyone else there, it had gone seriously wrong, people where waiting for them, and not cops.
Mickey had thrown in a stun grenade while he and Billy had kicked the door down. Yeah that should have worked only the target who had been openly seen a few minutes ago at the window was now gone, and they had been met by armed response.
Billy had gone down fast in the confusion that followed, and then Mickey, he had managed to get a bead on one of the bastards that had ambushed them. Only before he could fire, he had been gunned down, bullet to the head and chest, then all Leo could think of was getting the hell out of there, but he knew with certainty he wasn't going to make it, when a bullet knocked his leg out from under him.
As fast as it had started the gunfight was over, Chance checked on Winston, the big man was alright, his face a professional mask, hiding whatever he was feeling about what had gone down, he would talk with him later. He looked over to Guerrero; the smaller man was shaking his head, as he joined them to look down at the two surviving members of the hit team.
"You okay." He asked Guerrero.
Chance nodded, and looked down at the two injured killers, "amateurs," Guerrero drawled and brought his gun up.
"Hell no." Winston snapped as he grabbed for Guerrero's gun arm, he might have a foot on Guerrero in height, but he found himself on the floor trying to draw breath round the pain in his stomach, the muzzle of a gun against the back of his head.
"That's seriously not cool dude, respect personal space." Guerrero's voice was a low, rasping growl.
Chance was perhaps the only person who knew why Guerrero didn't like to be touched, and now wasn't the time to go into that, all that mattered was getting through to him.
"He didn't mean anything; come on man let him up." Chance said, holstering his own gun and focusing all his attention on his old friend.
"He… touched… me… bro."
The tension in the words made Winston suddenly pushed his pride aside, and the indignation of being floored by a man a foot shorter than him and pounds lighter, he knew with sudden clarify that he had made one hell of a mistake, and that there was something else going on with Guerrero, that had nothing to do with the wounded men.
"Winston, apolo….." that was as far as Chance got, because Winston beat him too it.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have done that, laid hands on you, I mean," Winston surprised himself by actually meaning it, and it had nothing to do with the gun to his head, time seemed to stand still, and then the gun was moved, and he got slowly to his feet. Looming over Guerrero he could feel the tension that was thrumming through the smaller man, he had seen it before while he was a cop, and he knew how close he had been to getting killed.
Guerrero tilted his head slightly, "Respect personal space dude okay."
Winston nodded, "I'll remember that," and he felt some of the tension slowly ease, and Guerrero's attention switched back to the wounded men as he stepped away from him.
Chance looked down at the two men, "You've got two choices, we load you in your car, and you get the hell out of the city, or you just disappear into the bay."
Billy cradle his shattered arm to this chest, as Leo answered "You'll let us walk? "There was disbelief in his voice. "How do you know we won't be back to finish this." Leo tried to bluff it out, he considered himself a hard man, and had a reputation to protect. If Billy saw him back down he would be in trouble. But these men had him worried he had seen the smaller man take the bigger man down without breaking sweat, and he sure as hell thought he was going to pull the trigger on him. Who the hell were these guys?
Leo saw the blond, shake his head, "you might think your boss is a dangerous man, but this guy is worse," the blond, must have seen the look on his face because he added. "Because if you do come back Guerrero, will make sure it's the last thing you ever do."
"Guerrero," Leo said the name and suddenly believed, the man was the bogeyman, you never saw him coming, you could run and you could hide, but the bastard always got you in the end. "Yeah, we'll disappear; you'll never see us again." His words where directed to Guerrero, it was suddenly very important to make him understand he meant that.
Twenty minutes later Leo and Billy where heading out of the city as fast as they could go, with Mickey's dead body in the boot of the car, they would worry about that later.
The next day under the protection of Chance and Winston, Martha Travis gave her statement to the DA on the criminal activities of the Haywood and Vine Corporation.
Julian Murphy Estate
Four days after Mrs. Martha Travis gave her deposition to the DA; the President of the corporation Julian Murphy, got home late and poured himself a drink, his wife would nag him if she was here about drinking too much. Only she had gone home to her mother once the scandal broke, so what the hell, he took the drink back in one large gulp and poured himself another. How could it get any worse his company had just taken one of the hardest hits possible, between the IRS, and the Department of Justice, he would be lucky not to face jail time.
All his plans of taking Travis out of the picture early had come to nothing, and his lawyer had just told him that Sarah that conniving bitch, was going to turn states evidence on him, and was ready to spill her guts about the contract he had took out on the woman.
But before they took him down he would make sure that Martha Travis suffered, she took his life he would take what she loved. Tomorrow he would get in touch with Faulkner and the bastard better not foul up again he…. Julian frowned as he entered the study, the overhead light didn't come one, it was then he saw the dark figure seated at his desk.
The person reached forward and switched on the desk top lamp and it was then he saw the gun.
"What do you want, get out or I'll call the police."
The gun lifted slightly, "Not going to happen dude."
"What do you want, then, I don't have any money they….." He came to a halt, as the gunman said:
"Do I look as if I am after your money, seriously dude if I wanted your money I would have been hacking that off shore account of yours in Bermuda."
"So what do you want?" Julian demanded "I am going to court soon."
"You won't get to stand trial." The man took a white envelope from his pocket and laid it down onto the desk and pushed it across to him with a gloved hand.
"What's that?" Julian asked, pointing a finger at it.
"Why don't you take a look?"
"If that's my resignation from the company, you can forget it." Julian pulled the letter from the envelope and began to read it, his face drained of color, and he looked back at the man in horror.
"It's your suicide note." The man said in a matter of fact way, and then he added. "Your organs will have started to shut down already, and in another five minutes, you will be dead."
"No." Julian cried out, his legs give way, he hit the floor, he heard the man come round the side of the table, and somehow managed to tilt his head up to look at him. When he tried to speak he found it hard to form the words, and then the light died in his eyes and his head dropped and his body slumped onto the floor.
Guerrero knelt down, checked for life, there was none, the poison in Murphy's system would easily be found, that didn't matter it was a suicide the police would get suspicious if they didn't find it. Picking the letter up, he put it back into the envelope, now he had Murphy's finger prints on them, and placed the envelope into the dead man's inside coat pocket. Guerrero removed the poison bottle from his own pocket, and carefully pressed the dead man's prints against it, and put it next to the whiskey bottle as he left the house. The body would be found the next morning by the housekeeper, he glanced at this watch; Faulkner would be his usual haunt by now, time to have a chat with him.
Five days later in the warehouse
Martha Travis got out of the car, her family followed her into the building, when she got out of the elevator she saw Winston, she crossed to him and shook hands, "I must thank you for everything you've done for me. If it hadn't been for you, and Mr. Chance and," she paused on the third name, "him, I would have died."
She reached in her purse to pull out her check book.
"You don't owe us." Chance said as he came down the stairs from his apartment, his smile was warming and friendly, "it's the least I can do for my predecessor."
It was then she saw Guerrero, her heart came up in her mouth, even though he had helped her, he still had that effect on her, she guessed he always would, he was picking at a box of noodles.
"I was just thanking Mr. Chance and Mr. Winston for saving my life, and I also have you to thank Mr. Guerrero, so thank you."
He crumpled the carton and tossed it onto Winston's desk, "One life, one favor remember."
She watched as he hefting a fishing tackle box off the floor and then to her horror she saw his attention turn to her family.
"Nice family." He looked them up and down critically, and then turned on his heels to walk away.
Chance and Winston wouldn't accept her money, and that went against the grain, so she said to them "If you ever need any help with IT give me call, and I'll do my best to help you," then added "It's the least I can do."
Guerrero paused, looking over his shoulder at her. "Another time Mrs. Travis, I'll be in touch" and then was gone.
Martha's mouth dropped open and she looked at Chance, she hadn't meant to include Guerrero in the offer "I didn't exactly expect that. Oh hell, I am back where I started."
"Don't worry, he's an expert hacker, I can't see him calling in the offer any time soon." Chance said pleasantly.
Martha just wished she could believe him.
Four months later
Winston was enjoying a take away with Chance, Guerrero had passed on it, a first, saying that he had an appointment with a cleaner. When Guerrero was out of earshot, Winston added "Nice to know he has some standards."
It was then he had looked at this partner when Chance had nearly choked on his food, as he laughed and said, "Not that sort of cleaner."
Winston paused with his fork half way to his mouth, "cleaner," and then realized "I should have known," and shook his head.
He had made the conscious choice not to look at any of the jobs that Guerrero did with Junior, he didn't want to see that in his head every time he looked at Chance a man that was now his friend and his partner. He had thought it over long and hard, calling himself a coward for not facing the truth, but in the end this is what he could live with and that was all that mattered. What he had did have a problem living with was Guerrero, when he had tried to get rid of Guerrero on countless occasions, telling he wasn't wanted, but the man always came back. For Chances sake he had tried to put his feelings on the back burner, so he could at least try to make it a working environment, or would have if Guerrero had done the same. The man was a grade A1 pain in the ass and seemed to live for the opportunity to make life difficult for him.
Chance topped up both of their glasses again as Winston decided to come clean, "Okay I have a confession to make," when he saw the look on Chances face he added "when Guerrero started to become more… hell Chance, he became a fixture, he's a freelance and the only one we employed I decided to dig a little deeper into him." He threw up a hand, "I know, I know, I shouldn't have done that. But I couldn't let it lie, I tried to follow him a few times, but I always lost him, and no one was willing to talk, beyond telling me what a cold blooded bastard he was. I still have some good friends from the job, and one of them is a retired FBI agent, we worked on the Morrison serial killer case together. So I decided to talk to him, he's a good profiler." When he saw Chance open his mouth he added "I needed to get a handle on Guerrero."
Retired Agent Andy Carter got to his feet and shook hands with Winston, and they collected their drinks and went to a quiet corner booth.
"You peaked my interest Winston, so what can you tell me about the unsub."
"Unofficial unsub, I can only tell you what I've observed and what I've hear, bear in mind It's hear say."
Carter took a drink, "Okay tell me about this Mr. X"
"Okay, I've known him for a few months, but his reputation is bad, I am talking a heavy hitter, he's totally ruthless and has a capacity for pure violence that is, hell Al it's frightening."
"You've seen him work, how does he approach things."
"He's very focused, and he has no problem with having to do what needs doing to achieve his objectives, if he has to shoot someone there's no hesitation, I've heard that he extracts information and takes a pride in his work."
"Does he get off on it… like a sexual high from it?" Carter asked "The torture?"
Winston took a deep drink from his glass, this was one area he didn't even want to get into, the idea of Guerrero having sex or getting sexually turned on was something that…. He tried to suppress a shudder. Then replied, "No, it's strictly business with him, there is no emotion there."
Carter nodded, "When he interacts normally does he consider the feelings, the emotions of the people he's dealing with?"
"He can be damn calloused, he's brutally honest, but he does have sense of humor, but it's on the dark side, oh and he likes pissing me off. I am damn sure he gets off on it." Then Winston added quickly, "not sexually I mean."
Carter couldn't help a smile at that then asked. "Is that everything?"
"He's really loyal to a mutual friend," Winston felt he had to put that in, because give him his due Guerrero was loyal to Chance.
"You want my official view on this Mr…...," Carter shook his head when he couldn't draw a name from Winston he continued "bearing in mind I have never met the man."
"A sociopath," he put a hand up to stop Winston from interrupting him, "a second hand diagnostic it's not the best way to do these things, but your Mr. X ticks enough boxes for me to how can I put it," He gave a smile and shake of the head, "in layman's terms he's a card carrying member, only his loyalty is a stray away from the usual guidelines." Carter looked thoughtful, "this is a man that will not just cross the line, but will stroll over it frequently, and he will kill if someone gets in the way."
He paused thoughtfully, "Winston if this man is active, you described him as a heavy hitter, which means that he has killed, we need to bring him down, I take it there is nothing to connect him to his work, otherwise the police would already be on to him. But if you know of one job, we can nail him on, and we can put him away, and once he's off the street, I am sure that people will come forward and we can get him the needle.
Carters's eyes burned into Winston, as if he could force the information out of him.
But Winston wasn't going to give Guerrero up, it was tempting, but that wasn't why he had this meeting he wanted to know what he was facing, and it ever came to a point where Guerrero was too dangerous and he had to shoot him, he wanted to know that that was because there was no other way.
"We, Al, remember were all retired now."
Carter gave a shrug, "One a cop or a fed always a cop or a fed." He took a sip of his drink, "I heard you were asking around about some of the boys, what was that for?"
"I was thinking that I needed a third to help with….. What I am doing now. But it seems that place is taken."
"You don't seem too happy about it." Carter said with a smile.
Winston picked up his drink, "Don't start me on him."
"Perhaps, I already have."
"Don't worry Chance I never said anything that would link to him. But I think you know what I am going to say."
"Guerrero is a good friend, Winston. He's is trying you know, he doesn't take contracts anymore."
Winston frowned on him and opened his mouth, but Chance beat him too it.
"I am not saying that he doesn't take side jobs, and personally I think it's better you don't know about them. But he is trying."
"Right," Winston breathed, it would be a cold night in hell before he believed that. But for the moment that had to be enough.
Later when Winston got home, this cell phone rang; he glanced at the caller id, and frowned.
"Al, what do you want?" Winston glanced at his watch it was late, as his friend said.
"I got talking to a few of the boys; I think we might have an answer to your problem. I think we should talk."