In the split second that Jameson turned to the stock boy, Frank had crossed the distance between them, while Henkel with his gun drawn screamed at him to 'get on the ground!'. By the time Jameson turned he was blind sided, the force of the blow spinning him like a top.



Seeing his partner go down, Special Agent Henkel had to consider his safety and that of the stock boy. He had little choice but to open fire and being only ten feet away even if he missed he would still have more than enough time to fire at least two more rounds before the suspect could react or draw a weapon. He took aim and fired a round at Frank's leg then took aim at the man's torso prepared to shoot to kill if necessary.

While Frank pleaded with Henkel, Jameson sprang to his feet, groggy but lucid. He intercepted the stock boy making sure he kept his distance and put himself between the suspect and the vehicle. "Keep you hands where I can see them!" he growled as he pointed his 9mm at Frank's chest.



"Just step back son." Henkel told the stock boy, we'll take your statement later, then he looked down at Frank his weapon trained on him. "Mr. Shepherd. You are under arrest by the Federal Bureau of Invesitgation." the agent repeated then despite what Frank was saying he read him his Miranda rights, "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney during interrogation; if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as they have been said to you?"

Jameson then screamed at Frank, "Roll over! Face in the dirt! Hands behind your head! If you do not comply I will shoot you! Do you understand!"

Henkel had read the file on Frank's daughter and knew all about the accident and from what he could tell the man was completely unbalanced. Even if he could assist them in apprehending the Wrangler it would be unlawful. He hoped the man would listen to his partner and allow himself to be cuffed otherwise they'd have one hell of a lot paper work ahead of them to report the death of a suspect.

(The agents will maintain a standard 'safe distance' of approximately five to six feet until the suspect is prone and they can safely move in to apply restraint.)

"Christ!" screamed Jameson as the rod cracked him in the ankle. He lowered his weapon as the pain rushed up his leg but he was still on his feet. Since he was standing between the suspect and the vehicle Frank had to run past him and an enraged Jameson hooked his arm around the man's neck and used his momentum to pull him around so that he was at Frank's back. Holding tight he prepared to bring the butt end of his handgun into the suspect's skull.



Meanwhile a distracted Henkel, quickly moved after the hobbled man, his weapon ready shouting, "Freeze!"

The alley was blocked by the agent's car so the Tahoe would have to be put into reverse, if the suspect made into the vehicle. A much faster, Henkel dealing with only minor ache in his leg, rendered unnoticeable by adrenaline was moving round to the driver's side door of the Tahoe where he would have an excellent shot at the man.

Simon couldn't believe this guy's determination, but there was no where for him to go. Jameson was engaging him in melee and in no time he would have him cut off. He hoped he wouldn't have to kill the man, but he wasn't giving them much of a choice.

Jameson wasn't sure what happened but suddenly, the larger man seemed to go limp and taking advantage of this he drove his knee into Frank's back and cracked him in he head with the butt of his revolver. When the man fell to the ground he quickly handcuffed him and rolled away putting his back to the wheel of the Tahoe to catch his breath. Breathing heavily he reached down and picked up a can of peas, "What the hell?" he said. Then he saw the stock boy, standing near by with a stunned expression that was both shocked and elated at the same time.



Henkel had come around the vehicle just as Jameson had finished securing Shepherd. He had seen the whole thing but he wasn't too happy about the stock boy's heroics. "Kid, that's a good way to get yourself shot!" He scolded, "Now get back!" he ordered as he bent down to check on his partner, "You okay?"

Jameson smiled. "Had 'em right where I wanted him, then Captain Can 'o' Peas over there stepped in. This is going to look great on our report."

"Everywhere you go there's someone who thinks they're a super-hero." Commented Henkel as he helped Jameson to his feet. He looked down at the unconscious Frank Shepherd, "Well let's haul this sorry sack a' shit into the car and take the 'Captain's' statement."

"I wonder how he is with creamed corn?" Joked Jameson.

They tossed Frank into the back of the car where he would be contained by a bullet proof shield and 'police-style-locking' doors. First they performed some aid on his leg and made sure it was bandaged before chaining his cuffs to the seat and laying him down.

The Agents then spent an hour taking the stock boy's statement and discussing matters with Troy's 3rd Platoon Commander: Capt. Michael Pimsey, who agreed to let them hold their suspect in the local jail. Frank was taken to the holding cells of Troy PD, and the guards were given strict orders not to under any circumstances let him out of his cell without their presence. They figured Frank would be out for at least a couple of hours so Henkel and Jameson went back to their motel to clean up and then get a bite to eat before the interrogation.

Tim and Morgan, crossed the New York / Vermont line at Bennington, Vermont. Tim turned the Hummer east onto Vermont State Highway 9 driving through Woodford Hollow, Vermont; Woodford and into Woodford State Park. They continued east thru Searsbug and into Wilmington, Vermont in silence, Tim turned north onto Vermont 100 thru West Dover and into The Geen Mountain National Forest. Tim had noticed that Morgan was in deep thought as she stared out the passenger's side bullett proof glass. "Why don' ya try an' find sumtin' fer us ta listen ta darlin', on the radio?" Tim said softly. It was then that the onboard computer displayed an arrest / crimminal rewport for:
"Name: Frank Shepherd (Morgan's father)
Age: 50 yrs. old
Height: 6 ft. 4 inches
Weight: 240 lbs.
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Black peppered with gray ......
Arrested Troy, New York
Charges : 2 counts Assault on a Federal Agent; Resitting Arrest; Assault on Mrogan Sheppard; 4 counts Assault with a deadly weapon; 4 counts Armed Crimminal Assault; Attempting to flee from arrest; Failure to report an accident; Leaving the scene of an accident.
Being held for federal authorities Rensselear County Jail."

" Well now lookie har, Morgan." Tim said as he turned the computer screen so Morgan could see it.

Tim, looked at Morgan and smiled "I reckon it'll be awhile 'fore he gits out. Them FIBies don't take kindly ta bein' assaulted. They gets right down onery when that happens."

Tim, turned the computer screen back around, gripped the steering wheel harder until his knuckles turned white. He then glanced at Morgan, his expression cold and hard. Turning his gaze back to the winding road, he said coldly "Now ya listen hard ta me Morgan, I beried a wife an chlid once, I ain't berin' anybody again. It took me nigh on ta five yars 'fore I let anybody git close ta me. I ain't shur how this is all gonna work out. You an me we got sumpthin 'tween us. Sumpthin good I think, an I ain't gonna let nobody git in ar way. Ifin' ya a mind ta I would kinda like sittin on tha paurch of the ranch house watchin' the sun go down of an evnin with ya. BUt fer that ta happen you an me gotta stick tagethar like monkey grip tyar patch. I done tol' ya Frank ain't gonna git either one of us, he ain't that good. So i don't wanna hear no more loco talk. He counts on the fact he's got ya spooked, that's how he finds ya.

Tim glanced in the rear view mirror, he could sense something was following them, his gut told him someone worse than Frank was on their trail........ "He uses yur fear, like an old pac of coyotes use the fear of a rabbit or deer they hunt ta find em."
Tim said