Chapter 2: Trick or Treat

"I think today started going bad when you accepted this 'part-time' job six months ago," Al said, sarcasm dripping from his thoughts. "I told you that taking this job would be trouble."

"Great," Caleb muttered aloud, pulling his mind back from how he got into this mess. "The voice in my head is saying 'I told you so' for a decision made six months ago"

"What was that, Captain Connor?" the man to his left asked.

Caleb had been assigned the rank of Captain in the Texas Department of Public Safety.

"I said that I should have made a decision to get out of this business six months ago," Caleb said absently.

He also absently noted that he was getting better at covering slips when people caught him talking to the voice in his head. In the beginning, he had been pretty clumsy at covering his slips. Caleb admitted that a lot of it was his fault, because he couldn't contain the arguments between him and the alien: his Companion. They still argued occasionally, but there hadn't been any bad arguments in, oh, three or four weeks. 'That was pretty good, ' Caleb thought defensively. In the thirteen months, one week, and three days since they had been joined, three or four weeks of peace was reasonable.

"So, do you have any ideas about getting this guy out of the house?" Caleb asked his Companion.

"Not really," Al replied. "We could link for a few moments with the others. That always carries a bit of danger to everyone, but we could do it. I don't think it would be enough though. We haven't touched him, so we don't have an emotional signature to work with. Without touching him, it would be like working in the dark. We need to be at most fifteen feet away, ten if we're not linked with the others."

"No matter what, we need to get up-close and personal to get that guy out of there," Caleb mused aloud, as much for Al's benefit as for the deputy kneeling beside him.

The deputy was used to Caleb's mutterings and off-the-wall comments. All the deputies who had worked with Caleb for the last six months were used to it. In their minds, he was a little strange ... well, maybe more than a little strange, but they hadn't lost a man on one of his raids in those six months. The bullet burn one of the deputies had just received was the worst injury to anyone on the team. As far as the deputies were concerned, Caleb could talk to walls and howl at the moon, as long as he brought them back alive and well. The funny thing was, they had also brought in their suspects, alive and well. A couple had been hurt while trying to flee, but he managed to even bring those suspects back alive.

Caleb smiled as he got an idea.

The deputy groaned. He had seen that smile before.

Caleb keyed the pickup on his ear phone, and asked, "Hey Buck, do we have any of that pizza left from lunch?"

"Um, yes, sir," the radio crackled.

"Good," Caleb answered. "Would you bring it up to the line please?"

"Um ... Yeah, sure Captain," the radio crackled again, the person on the other end clearly not understanding what was going on.

A few minutes later a ruddy faced Texas Highway Patrolman awkwardly ran to their car, carrying the half-full pizza box. A shot rang out, and the patrolman ran a little lower, until he reached the car that Caleb was sitting behind.

"Thanks, Buck," Caleb said with a wide smile.

"Yer welcome," Buck replied, but his eyes narrowed, wondering what Caleb was going to do this time.

'The guy comes up with some off-the-wall stuff, but it always seems to work, ' Buck thought.

Caleb opened the lid of the pizza box and peeked inside. He nodded to himself, seeing four of the eight slices remaining, and his smile broadened.

"Hey, guys," Caleb yelled. "I have over half of a large pizza over here. Does anybody else want some?"

There was silence along the line as everyone stared at him incredulously. They were in the middle of a fire-fight! Real bullets were being exchanged! You didn't stop in the middle of a fire-fight for pizza! It just wasn't done!

"Uh ... I'd like a piece," a voice called from down the line.

"Okay," Caleb called back. "Come on down and get it. Just stay low so Ricky doesn't shoot at you. I'm going to have a slice. Does anyone else want one? There are still two unclaimed slices."

No one else answered, and moments later, a young deputy ran to the car, stooped over, and knelt by the tire.

"I'm here for the pizza, sir," the young deputy announced with a grin.

He didn't know what was going on any more than anyone else. He had been watching Captain Connor, though. The man never did anything without a reason. He wanted to see what it was.

Caleb opened the box and the deputy looked inside before calling back down the line, "Hey, Jimmy. They sure look good. Are you sure you don't want a piece? I can bring it back with me."

"Okay, yeah. I'll take one," Jimmy called back.

Caleb's grin broadened, and he winked at the deputy. Working with these guys was what he liked best about the job.

Caleb leaned back and called, "Hey, Mr. Bennett? Ricky? Do you want this last piece of pizza?"

"What?" came the squawk from the house.

"I've got a piece of pizza left," Caleb yelled patiently. "It's too damn good to waste, and everyone out here has their fill. Do you want it?"

"I'm not falling for any of your tricks," Ricky Bennett yelled back.

"No tricks, no guns, no shooting," Caleb called back. "You don't even need to expose yourself. All I ask is that you don't shoot whoever brings it to you. Do you want it, or not?"

"You're trying to trick me," Ricky accused, before firing another shot.

Caleb listened to the bullet whine into the distance as Al ranted in his mind, "You know this is completely insane! That human in there isn't stable! You don't know what he'll do! I can't help you if you get shot in the head! Both of us will die!"

"We'll both be fine," Caleb reassured his mental passenger.

"I'm not trying to trick you, Ricky, but if you don't want it, that's fine with me. I like cold pizza, too. I'll save it for later because it looks like we'll be here for a long time," Caleb called back, his voice muffled, as he chewed a bite of pizza.

"Excuse me," Caleb called after he swallowed. "I shouldn't talk with my mouth full."

"Will you bring it up yourself?" Ricky called, a little quieter.

"I guess I can," Caleb called, sounding uncertain. "I was going to send one of the other guys because I'm busy eating."

"I want it, but you have to bring it," Ricky called assertively.

"Do you promise not to shoot me?" Caleb asked.

"Yeah, I promise," Ricky called.

Caleb started to rise and one of the deputies grabbed his arm and hissed, "Are you nuts?"

Caleb sighed before holstering his SIG Sauer P226 in the small of his back and saying, "Probably, but this is the only way I know to get him out of there without someone getting hurt. It'll be okay."

"Well, keep your mike open so we know what's going on," the deputy instructed. "Just say 'fire' if you want us to take him out."

Caleb nodded before standing, pizza box in one hand, and a partially eaten slice of pizza in the other. He faced the front door.

"You promised not to shoot, and I'm doing you a favor," Caleb called in a quieter voice. "I am assuming that you are a man of your word and won't shoot. Am I right?"

"I won't shoot you," Ricky called back, also in a quieter, less strident tone.

"Good enough," Caleb said with a nod, and began walking towards the front door.

He took another bite of pizza, as he stepped up on the front porch.

"Set it in front of the door," Ricky ordered.

"Sorry," Caleb said, exaggerating how full his mouth was, and the difficulty it was causing in talking. "I shouldn't have taken that bite."

"Definitely two people," Caleb mused.

"We still need to be closer than him watching from the window, to take control of him," Al complained.

"We can't just grab him with the others listening on the com," Caleb warned. "We've got to make it seem natural."

Caleb exaggerated swallowing a too large bite of pizza before setting the box in front of the door and stepping back.

"Now go back to your car," Ricky ordered.

Caleb looked surprised and said, "I will, if you really want me to, but wouldn't you be safer if I blocked any shots at you while you stuck an arm out and pulled it inside? I mean, I told my guys not to shoot because you promised not to, but they're worried about me. One of them might get nervous, and I don't want that. I can't reach you from here, but no one will shoot if I'm in danger of being hit, either."

"Yeah, that's right," Caleb heard Ricky mutter before ordering in a louder voice, "Stand right there."

"No problem," Caleb said around another mouth full of pizza as he rolled his eyes. "Would you hurry though? I'm getting thirsty, and I have a cold coke back at the car."

"I can read him now," Al informed Caleb. "He's not even thinking about shooting! How did you know that he would react that way?"

"He has the mind of a twelve year old," Caleb mentally replied. "The priorities of twelve year olds are different than someone in their twenties."

"Why didn't you bring me a coke, too?" the young man complained.

"Ricky," Caleb said, exasperation clear in his voice. "You're shooting at us. We're not supposed to be nice to you if you're shooting at us."

"Well, then why did you give me the pizza?" Ricky asked, confused.

Caleb/Al slipped into Ricky's mind, and began deftly pushing emotional cues to control how Ricky would react.

"Tell me something, Ricky," Caleb began, his voice sounding overly patient. "What is the bigger crime? Ripping off some food stamps, associating with bad people, and running from the law, or letting excellent pizza go to waste."

"Yeah, I guess you've got a point," Ricky agreed, sounding confused and wondering what was wrong with that logic. "Can I get the pizza now?" he asked.

"Go ahead. No one will shoot at you," Caleb assured him.

The door cracked open slightly. There was a pause, before a skinny arm flashed out and grabbed the pizza box. Ricky fumbled as he tipped the box sideways to get it through the door without opening it wider, and then the door slammed closed.

Caleb took another bite of his pizza, getting down to the pizza bone. He chewed for a moment before asking, "Does it taste okay?"

"It tastes fine. Why aren't you running back behind the car?" Ricky asked, his mouth obviously full of pizza.

"Well, I figured that you are eating, and I'm finishing mine, so we wouldn't need to be shooting at each other for a few minutes," Caleb explained, as he and Al explored the labyrinth of Ricky's mind.