Date: Sun, 21 Mar 2010 06:45:19 -0500
From: Paul Tolbert <jatonblue@gmail.com>
Subject: The Unit Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own the character Dave Batista. WWE does.


Chapter Three -- LEAVE ME ALONE!

Dave's heart sank into a pool of frustration and disappointment as he stood
before the man who gave him a glimmer of hope that had now died a silent
death.

'How... how could I have been so stupid?!?' Dave thought to himself,
appearing lifeless in contrast to the animation and vibrancy of the world
surrounding him. 'I'm so pathetic! Look at what I've been reduced to. A
drunken bastard who believed for a moment that his partner...'

Dave's internal dialog was cut-off by the now curious person in front of
him who began to speak, surveying him with concern.

"Dave? Did you hear me? I said it's nice to see you". He waved his hands in
front of Dave's eyes to try and get a reaction.

"Yeah Jackson I heard you." Dave's realization that the body that stood
before him was not of his slain partner Roger Carrigan, but of a former
colleague of his, Special Agent Jackson Walker, felt like a ton of bricks
slamming into him. He wondered how he could have been so naïve to think
that Roger was alive and had reached out to him, months after his death.

"Good. Hey why are you barefoot for? It's fucking cold as hell out here and
you look like a mess. I knew I should have checked up on you sooner."
Jackson said, shaking his head. "God you reek of booze, your hair is a
mess, you look like you haven't shaven in weeks..."

Dave became furious. "Look Jackson, I didn't come all the way down here to
hear you bitch about how I look OK? So what the hell do you want?"

"Calm down big guy. I just--"

"You just what? Came here to 'Check up on me?' Half the fucking bureau has
already checked up on me. I wish you all would just leave me the hell
alone. I'm fine. I don't need anyone asking me every 5 minutes if I'm ok."
Dave was now becoming irate and starting pacing around the deserted
sidewalk.

"Look Dave. I'm sorry that you're hurting over Roger's death, but you can't
keep blaming yourself. It wasn't your fault."

"YOU DON'T KNOW THAT! YOU WEREN'T THERE! I WAS THE ONE WHO TALKED HIM INTO
MOVING IN WITHOUT ANY RECONN AND WE GOT FUCKING AMBUSHED! I FUCKED UP!"
Dave yelled, spit flying from his mouth.

"DAMMIT DAVE! Lower your voice, your attracting attention." Jackson said
through closed teeth, trying to calm the larger man down. He reached his
arm out and placed a hand on Dave's shoulder.

"Does it look like I fucking care? Let em look. Let them take a good look
at the man who got his partner killed in the line of duty because of his
own carelessness." He knocked Jackson's hand off and continued to pace back
& forth, His breathing now shallow and forced.

"Dave listen to me, you have to get yourself some help. Talk to a grief
counselor or something."

"Goodbye Jackson." Dave turned and began to storm off in the opposite
direction. He'd had enough.

"DAVE WAIT!" Jackson began to sprint after him, twitching lightly as the
cold blast of air whooshed across his face as he ran. He caught up with
Dave as he was about to open the door to the lobby.

"Dave...I didn't come here...to upset you. I came...here to talk to you
about...something, something else." Jackson was winded from chasing Dave.

Dave stopped and kept his head forward as he contemplated on whether to
hear Jackson out or not. He surly wasn't in the mood to further be
scrutinized by him, but was curious as to what Jackson wanted to talk about
other than Roger's death. Or him for that matter.

"What is it?" Dave said annoyed, turning around to face Jackson.

"Look, I know you got this self-guilt thing going on-"

"Bye Jackson"

"WAIT! Sorry bout that. Anyways I think you should hear me out about
this. I know you were fired from the Bureau. You're probably looking for a
new job right?"

"I don't need your help or pity Jackson. I can take care of myself."

"Like hell you can. just look at how prim and pressed you are. Full of joy
and everything."

Dave crossed his arms, becoming increasing heated.

"OK, OK, OK! Sorry. God I don't know when to shut up."

"Got that right."

"Oh yeah ha ha very funny."

"Dammit Jackson!"

"OK. Dave I do have a job for you, well more like I have a referral of
sorts. There's this place that I want you to come to with me, tomorrow."

"No", Dave said, turning around to open the door. He ignored the pleas for
him to stay and continued to the elevator. He stood there as he waited for
the doors to open.

"Dave, listen to me. I really think you would be good for this job, not to
mention the job will be good for you. You've been bottled up in your
apartment for weeks now; you only get out when you need a damn drink."

"I'm not working private security like other agents who get laid off so
forget it." The elevator doors opened and Dave stepped in and quickly
pressed the button for the 6th floor. Jackson swiftly made his way into the
elevator with him, further frustrating the already irritated Dave. Jackson
was oblivious to how much Dave was restraining his anger. He didn't want to
go off on the slightly older, balding Hispanic agent as he had a ton of
respect for him. Everyone at the Bureau did. His fuse was becoming shorter
by the second however.

"It's not private security. It's Law Enforcement, case solving. Just like
back at the Bureau. In fact, you'll be doing most of the things you've been
doing at the Bureau."

"Oh yeah Jackson? How so? Cause if I remember correctly, being fired from
the FBI isn't really something other law enforcement agencies look too
kindly on." Dave said mockingly.

"Technically you were suspended, but whatever. And FYI isn't another Law
Enforcement agency. If anything you'd be working for the FBI again. Sort
of..." Jackson trailed off.

Dave reached out and pressed the Emergency Stop button on the panel in
front of him. Jackson jumped at the jerk of the elevator coming to a
screeching halt.

"What do you mean I'd be 'sort of working for the FBI again'?"

Jackson took a deep breath and placed his hands on his hips. His calm
demeanor now slightly tense.

"Dave, have you ever heard of something called 'The Unit'?"

...