I arrived at the safe house at dawn and took off my gear. The bullets had gone through all three layers of protection I had. A direct reflection of my overconfidence and lack of awareness of how powerful the bad guys' weapons were. My arm or shoulder was already healed even though the bullet had gone through, the bullet in my side was still inside me, and I knew it wouldn't bother me, or if it did, I fucking deserved all the pain and discomfort it would bring.
I was alone because Harper had taken the rescued ones elsewhere and had a family: a new wife or girlfriend and her kids. I took a shower and updated my group information. The dead. My eyes stung so satanically and my face was wet with tears as I updated my friends as dead.
A few fleas would understand the extent of my loss, but not all, and I wondered how badly I had let my whole fucking team down. I should have considered that if there are the best victims out there, then surely it's been defended. Sark had probably been waiting for me to attack and had been ready.
I put the money for each family in the right place and thought that I wanted and must always remember everyone that I have lost, those who have died because of my mistakes. But others should know who we have lost and when.
I knew that if we had been in the military or the police, we would have a plaque or a picture with our badges and stuff. We should have a secret plaque where every flea we lose is recorded from now on. We'd had very few deaths so far, and I hoped this gig wouldn't start a new trend.
The base was empty and deserted; the lights were low, and I sat in my study looking at the computer screen, the names of my friends whose status read deceased. The atmosphere was empty and desolate, and the pain that squeezed my soul and my heart just couldn't seem to ease.
No one's death had ever hit me this hard. I remembered what Bran had taught me, how emotions are weakness and bring only pain. I felt so fucking alone, and I wished I had someone to talk to. Then it hit me.
I had learned in that year that I had someone. And it was a terrible thing to learn, at least in my life, because I didn't have anyone now. When I needed one, now would have been a wonderful time to go into the arms and just be there, but not in my life.
I'm shown something wonderful, something perfect, and then I get to taste it. And then, when I need it, they take it away from me. It's a weakness, and I can't afford them because I have to have my focus completely on point and not dream of lying on Salvatore's lap on the couch.
I think there are other females lying there already. They probably fuck in the master bedrooms. Fuck. I got up, grabbed my bag, and knew no one was coming in for a while. I felt too much and too bad. I didn't want to feel anymore, but Damon had put a barrier in my mind so I couldn't turn my feelings off.
So I did what people would do, might do, and I wasn't in any wise mood. I left in my car and drove downtown. Then I found a liquor store for the supernatural and went and bought the strongest vodka and several bottles. I went through five stores. I went back to the base and carried my bag to my office. I didn't even bother to turn the lights on properly as I sat in an armchair, opened a bottle of vodka, and swigged.
The alcohol burned my throat, and I grimaced, but soon I had another drink and another. Reality blurred, and the alcohol took the pain away, leaving only empty bitterness and the knowledge of what a shitty leader I was. How I was trusted, and I let everyone down. They shouldn't have died.
I should have been smart enough to put on our strongest armor and neck protectors. Also, to be very much more suspicious of the drone's findings, but I was just so fucking confident that Sark wouldn't have been desperate to keep the victims for himself. But no, my fault.
I sat in my room, in an armchair, and drank. Bottle after bottle emptied. And I passed out occasionally. Only when I woke up, I wasn't feeling at all bright, but a few swigs from the bottle did the trick.
Harper got the victims to safety, and then he went home. He had a family, and he knew who had all died. He told his family, and he didn't even know if Mimi had made it back in one piece. But when he looked at his tablet, he saw his friends were marked dead, and he knew that at least Mimi had escaped.
He had been driven by revenge and, bitter at times. Adam had taught him to harness and use those emotions as a resource. After four days, he went back to the base to see if anyone was there and if there were still any gigs. He wanted to act, and Sark was pissing him off badly. Jake had told him what Mimi's pack had done and how Mimi was alone, so he thought he'd see how she was doing.
When he drove up to the base, the yard was deserted. There was Mimi's car parked there, though, so at least she'd be there. Harper had learned to deal with Mimi like everyone else when she was in a rage, and he figured she might be in a terrible mood.
He went inside the base and everywhere was quiet. The computers were off; the lights were off, well it was morning. He could see the light flickering under Mimi's door. Well, this would be there, at least.
Harper walked to the door and knocked. The door cracked open more. Harper smelled the liquor and opened the door, probably knowing what he would find. He'd been there himself once, and it didn't help.
Mimi was sitting in an armchair, drunk out of her mind, a strong bottle of vodka in her lap, her face wet with tears, and she took another swig from the bottle, mumbling indistinctly, drunk, something to herself.
Harper said, "You know, flea, that won't help, won't bring them back."
There were several empty vodka bottles on the floor. There was also old vomit, and Mimi's clothes were stained. Harper realized Mimi had been drinking all four days and hard.
Mimi said, "Fuck off and leave me alone."
Harper sighed.
He said, "Mimi, that won't help, realize that."
Mimi just grunted and took another swig. Harper walked into the central room and thought. How could he help Mimi? When he went back to Mimi, she was almost passed out but growled dangerously with yellow eyes as he tried to take the bottle out of her hand.
Harper went to see who he could get to help. Adam was not really the right person, or Damon, for that matter. He called Magnum.
"This is Magnum, what is it, Harper? Is there a crisis or an emergency?"
Harper said, "The job went wrong, and Mimi lost her strike team. I've now come to the base to see what the situation is, and she's been drinking here for four days. The office is full of vomit, and liquor bottles, and the lady will bring out the wolf if I try to interfere."
Magnum sighed and said, "Look when I can't get away. I know the lady left the pack, but Jake is probably the best guy to help. He should be off soon. If he's not already, call him."
Harper grunted and said, "Okay, let's see if Jake can talk some sense into the lady, but I can understand her straight up."
Magnum said, " Yeah, well, I've been drinking myself into a stupor and who knows what else, but it doesn't help. But I've got to go now."
He hung up. Harper called Jake, who was off duty, and was secondly surprised by Mimi's reaction, but then again, he'd done the same thing once when a woman had left him.
He couldn't even know how she must have felt, but he promised to go for a drive and come and help; he wasn't scared of her mad wolf. He had met Mimosa enough times and knew she was in as bad a place as Mimi, so he just had to be ruthless in helping her.
He promised to be there the next morning. Harper hung up the phone; he didn't tell Mimi anything. He went into her office and tried to pick up the empty bottles. Clean up the vomit puddles on the floor.
He didn't call Colin or any doctor when she didn't need medical attention so much now. Besides, Colin might be too lenient and just put Mimi to sleep, not let her deal with it, and she could fool Colin and then continue to drink.
Jake would be the best man to help Mimi right now. Jake arrived at the base. Harper came to meet him.
Harper said, "The lady is almost passed out. She's got the strongest vodka available to the supernatural, so she's been drinking for a week right about. I've tried to clean up and take away empty bottles, but she's pissed herself several times, vomited, and is drinking. "
Jake said, "Fine, I'll go now and drag her to the shower, then we'll take her to another room to recover, and you get rid of every bottle of booze in the meantime."
Harper nodded and said, "I have experience in hiding liquor bottles, so I'll go through the room."
Jake nodded and went inside. Mimi was sitting in her chair, and Jake was breathing through his mouth so the stench didn't quite hit him so hard. He sighed and went over to Mimi.
I sat and drank. Nothing mattered, and Mimosa drank with me. She was in the same state as me, and Mirella had gone to her coffin to be. We had all known our family, and we were drinking now. Harper had tried to get me to stop, but when I didn't want to. I sipped from the bottle again when the door opened.
I said, " Go away, leave me the fuck alone. "
Jake stopped at the door and then came to me.
He took the bottle out of my hand and said, " Mimi, flea, this isn't helping. You're only hurting yourself, and this shit stops right now."
I tried to take my bottle back.
I was flashing my eyes, and Jake calmly said, " Don't you dare. It won't help. Come on now, let's take a shower and get it over with. Then we'll see."
He lifted me up and dragged me to my washroom. I had a decent-sized shower in here, and Jake didn't hesitate as he undressed me and put the water on me under the shower. I stayed so like standing while he washed me, and my hair. He rinsed the dried vomit off my skin and the piss off me too. Then he wrapped me in a bathrobe and took me into another room.
He went and sat on the couch and, took me under his arm, said, " I know it's extremely painful to lose a team, and these were your family and mine too, but when drinking doesn't help. "
I tried to get up. I wanted to go on; I didn't want to feel. But Jake was relentless and held me on the couch. I cried inconsolably against him. He was stroking me, saying something, and I couldn't hear what. Eventually, I fell asleep or passed out, my face wet with tears and my soul broken.
When Mimi passed out against him, Jake sighed. He knew exactly what Damon, Adam, and Samuel had done and how the other women had been taken into the pack; Mimi had then left after Damon had threatened her. Normally, he would have called Damon, but the threat had been bad enough, according to Magnum, that he didn't risk it.
He was very sorry for Mimi, and Mimi had once been wonderful in bed, but he was now married to his wife. His wife knew about him and Mimi and was not jealous at all. Jake now saw Mimi almost as a sister or a daughter, someone he wanted to help, support, and nurture.
When Mimi had cried so inconsolably, sobbing about what happened at the gig and how she blamed herself, it had almost broken Jake's heart. He knew Mimi well and knew that she would blame herself, and nothing would help. What could he say?
He got up. He left Mimi sleeping on the couch and knew the days ahead would be hard. He went to help Harper clean out Mimi's study and find her liquor bottles. He knew the code to the safe and took the bottles out of there, too.
Harper said, "It was a fucking Sark facility, and we did not know they had armor-piercing ammo. "
Jake grunted. When he saw the hole, he grabbed Mimi's gear that she had left on the couch to put in the locker to see it better. He saw holes in all three layers.
He said, "Fine, the miss has been hit then. Look, the bullet has gone through all three layers. Now, I didn't know of any guns that could do this, so they were brand new; I needed to see where the hell that bullet was in her, and can I get it out, or did I need to call the medic?"
Harper whistled and said, "So we didn't have a clue at any point; fine, I'll tell this to Magnum and see if you can get the bullet out."
Jake sighed. He walked into the med bay and took a portable ultrasound. He wasn't a doctor, but he knew how to use it to find the bullet and then assess how to get it out.
When Harper went to call Magnum, Jake went to Mimi's locker to get her clothes and then went to the passed-out woman. He opened Mimi's bathrobe and started looking for the bullet. He sent the results of the ultrasound to the nearest medical person, a doctor named Hugh. Hugh was one of Colin's colleagues who had helped Mimi in Ireland with the infection and knew quite a bit about Mimi's anatomy.
Ten minutes later, Hugh called. "Jake, that bullet is in such an awful place I'm going to have to take it out. "
Jake explained where they were going, and Hugh said, "Oh fuck, terrible, and we need that bullet. If it goes through three layers of Magnum shielding, then..."
Jake grunted and said, "Miss is still passed out. She drank for a week, so the hangover is going to be a bitch"
Hugh said, "Oh, you know she's never been drunk before this. And with Mimi's metabolism, getting herself drunk enough is a pretty damn tough feat, but I'm on my way, but we'll see what we can do about the hangover. It's a unique thing with the lady, and I do not know what's going on."
Jake ended the call. He put some underwear on Mimi, a pair of panties, and a top so she wouldn't be completely naked. Mimi was in good shape, and Jake knew what a wonderful year she'd had in England and then to come back to this. Unfair.
Hugh arrived a few hours later, and Magnum did too. Magnum cursed softly. He knew Mimi and knew this would have repercussions for a long time, and he felt powerless.
But he looked at Mimi's equipment, saw the bullet holes, and cursed to himself. Hugh had gone over to Mimi and anesthetized her and was fishing the bullet out; Mimi was still passed out.
Harper showed him how many fucking bottles of booze he had found, and Magnum shook his head. He took the bottles to his car and put them away. They would help Mimi from now on.
After a couple of hours, Hugh brought the bullet to Magnum. It was big and made in a completely new way.
Magnum said, "Thanks. I'm going to have a look around and see what we can do. Can I make proper armor that will stop these as well? I'll also call Dresden or Constantine if we need some magic to help."
Jake nodded.
Hugh said, "The lady is still passed out. Her blood alcohol level is 850 times the amount that will surely kill a human. Her metabolism is pretty sedate, apparently alcohol depresses it so the hangover can last."
Jake nodded and said, "I'll get her through it."
He sighed and prepared to wait for Mimi to wake up. He would help her through this. He knew he couldn't take the pain away, but as the saying goes, shared misery is only half misery. He and others shared the pain and need for revenge. Jake knew that once Mimi perked up, she might be pretty reckless and sloppy in her need for revenge, but he would keep her safe and try to curb her need for vengeance.