Caught In The Middle

Frank was in the hospital for two weeks, and ordered to stay on medical leave for at least three more. That amount of inactivity would’ve driven Frank insane, if it weren’t for the pain that sitting for any length of time caused.

Every day, someone from the team would go check up on him, see what he needed, if anything. Sometimes he would convince them to take him to HQ for a little while, just to get out of his apartment. It was usually Cody who he got to bring him, since he lived the closest to HQ and it was a shorter ride.

Today was one of those days, and they walked in to hear Monica, Alex, and Jake laughing as they sat around Cody’s best computer.

“So this is what goes on when I’m not here?” Frank said, jokingly.

They all turned around quickly, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Frank!” Monica said, jumping up from Cody’s chair—nearly tipping it—and quickly moving away from the machine. “How you feeling?”

He smiled as he slowly walked to the couch, Cody refusing to let go of his arm.

“Doing better,” he said. As soon as he’d gingerly sat down, Cody ran over to the computer and quickly inspected it.

“What did you do to it?” he asked, suspiciously.

No one said anything.

Cody sat down and started clickity-clicking on the keys, trying to find something amiss.

They all quickly left Cody and went over to Frank.

“How’s the pain?” Alex asked.

“Improving,” he answered.

“Slowly,” Jake observed, watching Frank squirm.

“Why don’t you lie down, Frank,” said Monica. “You’ll feel be—”

“HEY!” Cody suddenly yelled.

Monica ran into the next room as if she was being chased.

A second later she was, by Cody.

Frank watched them run, puzzled. “Wha—?”

Alex tried not to laugh. “We deleted Solitaire off all of Cody’s computers.”

Frank frowned. “Why?”

“As a joke! We didn’t think we’d get caught doing it…”

Frank still didn’t understand. He looked up at Jake, who explained what had gone on while Frank had been in the bank line that day, when Monica had solved Cody’s Solitaire game for him.

Suddenly Monica came flying into the room, Cody fast on her heels.

“CODY!” Alex yelled.

“WHAT!” he yelled back.

“WE SAVED IT ON A DISK!”

Cody stopped dead, his shoes making a loud screech on the floor. “You did?”

Alex nodded, holding it out.

Cody went over to her, took it, and went back to his mass of computers without saying a word.

Monica stuck her head out of the closet. “Is it safe to come out now?”

Alex laughed. “Yup.”

Monica stepped out, looking at Cody, to make sure he didn’t come after her again. When he didn’t, she approached the couch, and smiled as if nothing had happened.

The phone rang, and Cody answered it. Not too many people had that phone number, so they all looked at Cody as he spoke to the caller.

“Jake,” he said. “It’s the DA, regarding yours and Frank’s testimonies.” He pushed against the table and rolled his chair closer to them, tossing the cordless phone to Jake.

Jake caught it. “Hello, sir…yeah, I think I got it pretty much worked out…Frank? Yeah he’s doing better…” He made a face at Frank as if asking him if he wanted to talk to the DA.

Frank shook his head, to tired to banter.

“Yeah…really? That would be good…yeah, I’ll tell him…okay…right…bye.” Jake hit the ‘hang up’ button, and tossed it back to Cody, who almost missed catching it.

“What’d he say?” Frank asked.

“He’s gonna let you wait till the last day of the trial to give your testimony.”

“Why?” Cody asked, not thinking first.

“So he doesn’t overdo it while he’s still recuperating, duh,” said Monica; belatedly realizing she shouldn’t get on Cody’s bad side after what she’d just done to his precious computers.

“That’s nice of him,” Alex said. “Good thing there were so many witnesses; they don’t need your testimony asap in order to convict Capone.”

“And it helps that Jay is gonna testify against him,” said Jake.

Everyone nodded. “I hope the judge has mercy on him,” Monica said.

“So do I,” Frank said, with a yawn he tried to stifle.

“Okay, you’ve had enough, time to go home,” Cody said, taking his keys out of his pocket.

Frank shook his head. “No, I’m fine.” It hurt too much to remain sitting, however, so he shifted around to lie down instead. “I’ll just lie down for a while.”

Cody looked at Jake, who shrugged. “Okay, you’re the boss!”

Frank fell asleep, and the team went about their business.

Frank’s nap turned into a deep sleep, and two hours later he was still out like a light.

“Cody.”

“Yeah?”

Alex walked over to him, whispering. “Monica and I are gonna go pick up some food. Keep an eye on Frank, okay?”

Cody looked up from his screen. “Where’s Jake?”

“He had something to do,” Alex said, and left.

“Okay,” Cody replied to thin air. He looked back at the Solitaire game. I love it when we’re slow, he thought. He frowned to see that he’d wasted precious seconds, score-wise. This one was another toughie, but he was determined to win it…

                                                                      ********************

“Cody!”

Cody jumped when Alex’s voice yelled, in the otherwise quiet room. “What?”

“Where’s Frank?”

Cody jumped up from his chair, and saw that the couch was empty. “Uh…”

“You were supposed to be watching him!” Alex accused, as they started to look around.

Cody didn’t answer, knowing she was right.

“Maybe he’s in his office,” said Monica, running up the stairs.

They all followed her, and saw that the door was open. Frank was sitting at his desk, leaning far back in his chair, his feet on the desk, so as not to stress his wound and cause himself pain.

“Frank! What are you doing?”

The unexpected voice startled him, making him jump so that he lost his balance and his feet came off the desk, making the chair snap back into an upright position.

Frank gasped, and clutched his midsection, as the violent motion sent pain stabbing through his body.

The rest of the team ran to him in concern, seeing the pain on his face.

“Hello?” They heard Jake from downstairs.

“Up here!” Alex yelled.

Jake followed Alex’s voice up to Frank’s office, and was surprised to see Frank sitting at his desk slightly hunched over, his arms wrapped around his stomach. A pain-filled expression was on his face and the rest of the team was surrounding him.

“What happened?” he said nervously, running over.

“I’m a rotten babysitter, that’s what,” Cody said, with a sigh.

“What are you doing up here, Frank?” Jake asked him.

Frank sighed, willing the pain to subside. “Trying to…write…my testimony.”

“Why didn’t you just ask one of us to bring you the files?” Alex asked. “Better yet, you dictate, one of us writes.”

“Or types,” Cody suggested.

“You shouldn’t overdo it, Frank,” said Monica. “If you want to get to the trial in one piece, you gotta take care of yourself.”

“Yeah, starting with the delicious Chinese food the gals brought back,” Cody said, practically drooling as the aroma wafted up into the office.

“We got your favorite,” Alex told Frank. “Sweet & Sour Chicken, Moo Goo Gai Pan, and Beef Teriyaki.”

Frank looked up at her, knowing how she and Monica thought he hadn’t been eating enough since he’d been injured. “I know a plot when I hear one,” he said with a slight smile, exhaling slowly as he was finally able to straighten up.

“Whatever works,” said Alex, taking his arm. “Now, back to the couch!”

                                                                       *******************

The trial began two days later. Alex and Monica spent the day in the courtroom, glaring daggers at Artie when he happened to look in their direction. They were so busy glaring that they didn’t notice the person who slipped in 5 minutes after the trial started.

Frank Donovan sat in the back row, slouched down in his seat. Not just to accommodate his wound, but so that no one would see and recognize him. The opening arguments went on for so long that Frank was actually relieved when one of the hostages went on the stand. He slouched down lower, however, not wanting attention to be drawn to his attendance.

Suddenly people started standing up, and Frank realized that he’d been in a light doze for who knew how long. Realizing that the judge had called a recess—for lunch he realized, noticing the time—he got up as quickly as he could and left the courtroom before Alex or Monica saw him.

By the time the court reconvened, Frank wasn’t sure he wanted to go back in. Hearing the witness’ testimony to what she’d seen—not only Artie’s behavior, but also regarding his injury—it was upsetting, to say the least. He had almost bled to death, while a psycho had strutted around wreaking havoc.

Eventually he went back in, but it wasn’t too long afterwards when the court adjourned, to reconvene the next morning. Frank left the courthouse, but was too agitated to get in his car and drive, so he started walking down the street. After a while, his still not-fully-recovered body protested the exercise vehemently, and he regretted the impulsive action. He realized that there was a little park not far from where he was, and his only objective now was making it to one of the benches.

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally made it, and all but collapsed onto the bench, trying not to wince. He sat there—or rather, slumped—and tried to figure out why he was so unsettled by this situation, more then all the others. He’d been injured before, many times, why was this time so different? Maybe because I lost one of my organs? How easily it could’ve been worse. Luckily the spleen was something he could do without, but would he be that ‘lucky’ next time?

                                                                     ********************

“Man, everywhere I go, that car stares me in the face.”

“Huh?” Monica asked Alex, as they walked into the courtroom’s parking lot.

“The Volvo S80 over there, just like Frank’s.”

“Oh,” Monica looked at the classy silver and black car that Alex had wanted, not long before the bank robbery. She’d told Monica all about it, having seen it sitting on a car lot. The next day Alex had come to work upset, telling Monica it was gone. Frank came in a few minutes later, and told them to come outside and see his new car. Monica laughed, remembering the look on Alex’s face when she’d realized that Frank had bought the one she’d wanted so badly. “Uh, Alex…”

“Yeah?”

“That IS Frank’s.”

“What?” Alex said. She’d been too busy checking out the car to bother looking at the plate. “He came to the trial? I didn’t see him.”

“Me either. I wonder where he is now?”

“Let’s wait for him. We were gonna stop by his place to see how he’s doing anyway.”

Monica nodded, and they stood there waiting for him to come out, since the trial was over for the day.

“Where the heck is he?”

Alex shrugged. “I’ll go back inside and look,” she said, walking towards the building.

“Wait, gimme your keys, I’m freezing.”

Alex tossed them to her, and went back in.

Ten minutes later, she came back out, finding her car running and only Monica in it. “He didn’t come out?”

Monica shook her head. “No.” She got out, and they both looked around the parking lot.

“You don’t think he walked off or something, do you?” Alex asked.

Monica took out her cell phone, with a *duh*. “Let’s ask him.” She dialed and waited. Two rings. Three rings. Four. Voice mail. She walked over to Frank’s car, and looked inside, after dialing it again.

A faint ringing was heard.

“He left it in there!” she said, surprised.

“I don’t like this,” Alex said. “It’s freezing out here. If he did walk off, it wasn’t very smart of him, he’s still far from 100% …” She sighed, and made a decision that she hoped Frank wouldn’t kill her for.

“Monica, take my car, we’ll split up. Maybe one of us will catch up with him.”

Monica nodded, hoping she was right.

Alex got in Frank’s car, trying not to moon over it and check out all the cool luxuries it contained. She did, however, turn on the car’s seat warmer, and took a right out of the parking lot, praying that Frank wouldn’t kill her for driving it. He did give all of us keys to it, she thought, trying to justify herself. Of course, we all gave keys to each other, in case of emergency. This is an emergency!

She drove for a while, before realizing that if they were wrong, and Frank hadn’t gone off walking, he would return to his car to find it missing, and would most likely report it stolen! The realization almost made her jam on the brakes. I can see it now, ‘Alex, you wanted my car so badly that you stole it?’ The thought made her laugh until she realized that if the cops found her driving it around—which they undoubtedly would if he reported it stolen, the S80 being new enough that not many were on the road yet—then she would be arrested!

“Oh, Alex,” she moaned aloud. “What have you done?” She turned around, and passed a small park. She looked to see if any people were in it, and saw someone sitting on a bench. She parked the car, walked into the park, and saw that is was Frank. Relief washed over her, and she ran to where he was slumped on the bench.

“Frank!”

Frank jumped slightly, startled at Alex’s voice. He looked up at her with a frown, wondering what she was doing there.

Alex threw herself onto the bench, with a look of concern. “What are you doing? You walked here? It’s freezing! Are you nuts?” Alex suddenly remembered what the doctor had told them about spleen-less people. “You’re still fragile, you’ll get pneumonia!” She grabbed his arm and tried to pull him up off the bench. “You’re frozen! Come on, you gotta get warm.”

Fragile? Frank sighed, never the type who liked to be mother-henned. “I’m fine.”

“No you’re not!”

“Alex,” Frank said, in a sterner voice. “Sit down, will you.”

At his tone, Alex knew she would get nowhere, and obeyed. She frowned when Frank sighed.

“What’s the matter?” she asked. “Why did you walk all the way here, anyway?”

Frank shook his head. “Thinking.”

“Thinking? You walked to a park on a freezing day in poor health just to think?”

Alex’s tone and humorous words lightened Frank’s dark mood. “Yeah,” was all he said.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Frank shook his head. “Nothing to talk about, really.” How could he explain his fears of death—his realization that he is in fact mortal—to someone who feared the same thing, thanks to their mutual job? Besides, he was the team’s superior, the one who had to make the example, the one they looked up to. It wouldn't help them any to know that their leader really was human.

Or would it?

Frank didn’t get the chance to find out, for suddenly Alex said, “Monica! I have to let her know I found you.” She pulled out her cell phone, and dialed. “I found him! At the park…yeah, that one…I know,” she said, throwing a sharp look at Frank, who figured that Monica must’ve remarked on his having walked there. “Men are stubborn,” Alex said, with a laugh. “Ok.” She hung up. “She’ll be here in a few minutes.”

Frank shook his head. “Let’s just go now,” he said, not wanting to be fussed over by Monica too. He shook his head as he remembered the attitudes the team had had when he and they had first met. How things had changed in the past year and a half, after they all got comfortable with him. If he had to pick a word to describe all five of them now, it was ‘close’. The thought made him smile; he hadn’t been this close to many people in his hard life.

Alex stood and went to grab Frank’s arm, but he shook his head at her, not wanting help. Frank knew that she and the rest of the team meant well, but he was getting sick of being treated like an invalid.

As they walked out of the park, Frank noticed the nervous looks Alex was giving him, and he began to wonder if there was something she was afraid to tell him. As he looked for her car, he suddenly realized what it was when he spotted his Volvo instead.

“My car,” he said, his voice sounding oddly neutral to Alex.

“Monica and I found it in the parking lot, and we waited for you to come out of the court but you never did, and we saw you’d left your cell phone in it. I had Monica take my car and go one way, and I had to take yours to go another,” she said, uncharacteristically fast.

Frank thought it funny that Alex was afraid to see his reaction to her driving his car. She stared at him, waiting for a reply, but Frank just shook his head, with a slight smile, and got into the passenger side.

Alex’s eyebrows went up, when she saw that Frank had not gotten in the driver’s seat. Forcing back a childish squeal of glee, she got in, and pulled back into the traffic. She stole a glance at Frank and noticed that his cheeks were red from the cold.

“You okay?” she asked as she turned up the heat all the way, on top of the seat warmers.

Frank nodded, not voicing it aloud.

Alex looked back at the road to see a car in the next lane suddenly veer into theirs, coming straight at them. Reacting fast, she wrenched the wheel to the right, avoiding the car, but going off the road and down a small embankment.

“Frank!” Alex cried, when the car came to a stop. “Are you okay?”

Frank had a hand on the right side of his head, where he’d smacked it on the window. He quickly removed it when Alex looked at him. “Fine,” he answered.

Suddenly someone was pounding on Alex’s window. It was Monica.

Alex opened the door as Monica exploded, “Are you two okay? I saw the whole thing, that guy flew right at you!”

Alex shrugged as they both ran around to the passenger side, as Frank got out. After a barrage of questions—and his leaving out smacking his head on the window—they were satisfied that he was all right.

Frank sighed inwardly. This mother-henning had to stop. “You saw it all? You didn’t get the plate, did you?” Frank asked, almost raising his hand to rub his sore head, but stopping himself just in time.

“Sure did; he was the car in front of me. Vanity plate: I-ROCK. I called the police, and an ambulance.”

At mention of the word ‘ambulance’, Frank groaned. He’d seen enough of doctors and hospitals for a lifetime.

“Heh,” Alex laughed. “He’ll rot, not rock, in jail.” Suddenly she thought of checking the car for damage, and her heart nearly stopped when she remembered that she was driving Frank’s brand new Volvo. She slowly turned around, afraid to look. The passenger side looked fine. She slowly walked around it, trying not to attract attention from Frank and Monica as she did it. To her shock, the car didn’t have a scratch on it. She sighed, in utter relief.

Suddenly they heard sirens, and Frank sighed, hoping against hope that when the medics asked if they were all right, that Alex or Monica wouldn’t mention his ‘fragile’ state…

                                                                            ********************

“Can I go now? Are you satisfied that I’m still in one piece?” Frank asked the doctor, trying—and failing—not to sound annoyed.

The doctor chuckled. “Yes, you can go.” He stood there reading the top page of Frank’s very thick medical file. “How’s the pain from your stab wound?”

“Fine,” Frank said, making a liar out of himself as he carefully slid off the table.

“Uh-huh,” the doctor said, not believing him.

As Frank walked down the hall, he shook his head. His hope had been in vain, for Alex and Monica had volunteered everything to the medics, who insisted on bringing him in. I gotta have a talk with those two, he thought. As he walked into the waiting room, he found the whole team there waiting.

“What did they say?” Alex asked.

“Exactly what I told you. I’m fine.” He started walking towards the door, and everyone followed.

“I’d hate to see your health insurance premium,” said Cody.

They all looked at him, not sure if it would be appropriate to laugh at a statement like that. Looking back at Frank, they saw a smile on his face.

“Let’s just say I’m glad I don’t have to pay it. I would never have been able to afford that car,” he said, as his precious Volvo came into view.

Alex sighed, biting back a remark.

                                                                        ********************

The next day Frank went to HQ by himself. As he walked in the door, he saw Monica on the phone, and she gestured for him to come over to her.

“That was the Chicago PD,” she said, hanging up. “The jerk who ran you off the road yesterday apparently wasn’t someone after you.”

Frank’s eyebrows went up. “How do they know?”

Monica crossed her arms as she sat back in her chair. “He’s just some drunk who works at a dead-end job. Been arrested for DWI twice before, all within the past year. This was #3. That, plus the accident he caused with you yesterday, puts him in jail for sure.”

Frank nodded. “His license will be suspended too. So when he gets out, he’ll either do the smart thing and go to AA and not drive till it’s reinstated, or he’ll be an idiot and get arrested again, drunk or not; for driving on a suspended license.”

Monica nodded. “Looks like we got a scum off the road, for a little while, at least.”

The door opened and Alex, Jake, and Cody came in.

“Told you,” Jake said, when he saw Frank.

“What?” Frank asked.

“Alex and Jake went to get lunch,” said Cody. “And I was doing some stuff and figured I’d spring you—they got your favorite again—but Jake had a feeling you were here already.”

“Sweet & Sour Chicken and Moo Goo?” Monica asked.

Cody nodded. “And don’t forget the beef-on-a-stick.”

They laughed at Cody’s accurate description, and dug in.

“Yum,” Monica said. “You favorites are quickly becoming my favorites, Frank.”

“Use the chopsticks,” Jake said, handing some to her.

“I was never good at these,” she said, trying them anyway.

Alex and Frank had an easy time with them, but Cody’s attempt was purely comical. They all watched as he tried to eat the fried rice with the chopsticks, dropping it all before he raised it to his mouth, over and over again, seemingly oblivious to their snickers.

“You,” Jake said, yanking the chopsticks out of his hand, and sticking a plastic fork there instead. “Use a fork.”

“What?” Cody said, grabbing them back. “I was just about to master them!” he said, picking up the fried rice, only to once again drop it all before it reached his mouth.

                                                                           ********************

Finally the day for Frank’s testimony came, and to his relief it was short. He described how he’d pulled out his gun, been stabbed, and left on the floor to die. He told of the few hazy times he’d awoke to see Jay helping him, and that Jay had flipped the car to save them. When the judge asked the Defender if he wanted to cross-examine, the lawyer said no; an answer that received murmurs from the courtroom. Apparently even Capone’s own lawyer knew that it was a waste of time to ask Frank anything; Capone was guilty, without a doubt.

“Will the defendants please stand,” the judge said.

Artie and Jay both stood, as one of the jurors handed the judge a piece of paper.

“Arthur Capone, you have been found guilty,” said the judge, after a mere glace at the paper. “For armed robbery and attempted murder of a Federal Agent. You are hereby ordered to serve 8-10 years for the robbery. As for the attempted murder of Agent Donovan…” he removed his glasses and fixed a fierce stare at Artie. “It was said that when you found out who he was, you were quite happy that he was your victim. In my book, that conveys intent. You would not let him go, which makes it obvious that you intended for him to die. If he had, that would make this a murder charge, not attempted murder. Therefore, we all here think you deserve the ultimate penalty. For the attempted murder of Agent Donovan—not to mention kidnapping him and Mr. Shaw—you are ordered to serve 50 years.”

The courtroom erupted in whispers of surprise—but obvious approval—at the stiff sentence.

Artie glared at the judge, silently.

“These terms are to be served consecutively, not concurrently.” The judge banged his gavel. “Order!”

The room hushed down.

“Jay DiGiorno, you have been found guilty for attempted robbery, as was your intention in the beginning of the situation.”

Jay hung his head.

“However,” the judge went on. “You did not take the hostages, and you did not stab Agent Donovan. Rather, you turned around and tried to help instead, ultimately being the one to stop Mr. Capone, saving the lives of both Mr. Donovan and Mr. Shaw.”

Jay raised his head a little, nodding. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Artie glaring at him, now.

“Your penalty, Mr. DiGiorno…” the judge smiled. “Probation for one year. I trust that you won’t get into anymore trouble, after this harrowing experience?”

Jay smiled back. “No, your honor, I swear.”

The courtroom murmured yet again, happily.

The judge banged his gavel. “Court dismissed.”

Frank and his team stood.

“Wow,” Cody said. “Artie got 60 years!”

“That’s considered life,” said Alex. “Since he’s nearly 40 I think.”

They saw Frank walking towards the front, and followed after him.

“Wait!” Frank called out to the policeman who was taking Jay out.

When the officer saw who it was, he complied.

Jay smiled when he saw Frank coming towards him. “Mr. Donovan! I am so glad you’re alive!” The statement sounded silly to him, but there was no other way to really say it.

Frank smiled back. “So am I.”

Jay laughed, but the officer suddenly took his arm and moved him over as Artie was led past them.

Artie had a look on his face that would give a person nightmares. He was prevented from saying anything by a shove given by the officer leading him out, propelling him forward, and out the side door.

Jay sighed, and looked back to Frank.

Frank ignored Artie, smiling at Jay instead. “I wanted to thank you for saving my life.”

Jay shrugged, humbly. “I didn’t do that, the doctors did. I’m glad they succeeded.”

Frank could see a Sergeant beckoning to the officer who was patiently waiting for Frank and Jay to finish their conversation. Frank held out his hand to Jay.

Jay went to take it, but then hesitated, as he was still wearing cuffs.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have those off in no time,” Frank told him.

Jay nodded, and managed to shake Frank’s hand anyway. As he was led out, he turned and smiled again, before disappearing out the door.

“Caught in the middle.”

Frank turned at Monica’s voice, to see that she was behind him with Alex, Cody and Jake behind her.

“Not only were you caught in the middle of the robbery,” she continued. “But Jay was caught in the middle of you and Artie.”

Frank nodded. “Very true.”

They were all quiet as they walked out of the courthouse, until Cody—influenced by his stomach—spoke.

“Anyone want pizza?”

Frank looked at him, quizzically. “Pizza? At 10 in the morning?”

Cody shrugged. “Seeing Jay made me want pizza.”

They all looked at him like he was crazy. “Why?” Jake asked.

“Did you all hear his last name? DiGiorno.”

They all laughed at that, shaking their heads at Cody’s crazy sense of humor.

“I think I learned something from this,” Jake said.

“What’s that?” Frank asked.

“I’m using the bank’s drive-through from now on. How about you?”

Frank nodded, with a smile. “Definitely. Most definitely.”

THE END
Copyright 2002