Letters from Ireland (Chapter 6, Injuries and A Fat Fanny)

Brian began to stir, and his mind went into action.
Okay. You just fell from a second story balcony. Remember training. Can you wiggle your toes?
Brian did so.
Your fingers?
Brian began to run through all diagnostics. Everything seemed to be in order.
He stood up.
“Nice one, Brian.”
He shook his head, and pulled out his cell phone.
“Ma? Yeah, look, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to make it to lunch. How about we meet up at your house and have something there? Alright. Love you.”
Brian hung up.

His mother arrived approximately fifteen minutes later, and met Brian outside of the apartment.
“That horrific traffic you spoke about must have passed,” She said, the slightest hint of suspicion in her voice, “I had no problems at all.”
“Yeah, I-- Um, guessed it must’ve.” Brian shifted back and forth.
“Well then. Let’s go inside, it’s pretty cold out here.”
Brian’s mother motioned to the door.

“I’m gonna go put my coat up, okay?” Brian told his mother.
She nodded in response, busy making sandwiches.
Brian walked briskly down the hall, and into his mother’s room.
Once inside, he removed a small plastic baggy marked EVIDENCE from his coat, and opened the closet.
The box rested in the same place it had the first time Brian stumbled upon it.
Brian quickly removed a letter and slid it into the bag.
“Sandwiches!” His mother called.
“Here I come!”

Brian was surprised to find Jacquelyn’s office door unlocked. She was rather protective of her work.
“Jacquelyn? Hello?”
A small sob in response.
“Hello?”
What the hell is going on?
“O--Over he-re.” The voice was barely a squeak.
Brian followed the voice, and stopped at the desk in the front of the room.
His eyes widened in horror.
There was Jacquelyn, on the floor. Her hair was in disarray, blood gushed from her nose, and from a large gash on her cheek.
“Oh my God!” Brian jumped into action.
“SECURITY! We have a breach on the fourth floor! Officer down, I repeat officer down.” Brian’s frantic voice boomed in the tiny room.
He knelt down beside Jacquelyn.
“Oh God… Oh God… Jacquelyn, can you hear me?”
“Y--Y-yes.” She hissed through clenched and bloody teeth.
“What in the world happened?” Brian said as he checked Jacquelyn for gunshot or stab wounds.
“B-b-Bruno.” Was the only thing she said.
“That SOB. Why?” Brian’s voice was filled with unimaginable hatred.
“T-t-Talk… I-I c-c-can’t… Help.”
“I’ll be right freaking back, sweetie. Hold tight.”
Brian rushed out of the room, and sprinted toward the security checkpoint at the end of the hall.
A bulbous man stood lazily on guard.
“How can I help you?” He said, scratching his backside.
Brian was out of breath.
“I.. I’m Detective Brian Connors. We have a breach down the hall. Officer down. Call a medical team.
The security guard’s eyes lit up, and he spoke urgently into the small walky talky he carried.
“They’re on their way.” The man said.
“Great, now get your fat fanny down to this room and help me.”
The man thought about responding to the insult, but decided against it, and followed Brian.