Don't Judge a book by the cover

((Open to anyone))

Mallas stood in the court, judge asking him questions and him responding. This still meant that he had a clean slate, it was all a guise to get a particular person out in the open. The judge had been briefed on this and everything was arranged, to make it look realistic was the challenge.

Two months ago, he had gone undercover as Henry Goodlad in order to work his way up the ranks of the little business Chad was running. Mallas had done some bad deeds throughout his life but this could have been ranked as the top. Hopefully, Chad would have set his little plan back a bit and that he had time to think about his next move.

Afterwards…

Mallas rounded the corner, Chad's righthand man was standing there, smoking a cigarette. The woman smirked, dropping the lighted cigarette and turned to face him.

"Henry Goodlad. Chad hears that you've been a naughty boy. You didn't follow his instructions."

"Does that matter? I got the job done. He should be happy, I've done him a favor--"

"Favor? Really? You little piece of…" Without any warning, the woman raised her revolver, it had been disguised underneath her jacket.

Mallas backed off, raising his hands in the air. She jerked her head to one side, indicating to get into the car. He walked to it but didn't get in, instead he turned back around, walking towards her, positioning the revolver on his heart.

"Shoot me, you're going to be running forever. Shoot yourself…well, you're dead. It's a lose lose situation, Sherry."

She eyed him for a moment, before turning to walk away. Mallas gave a small sigh, Sherry wasn't finished with him. There was something about her gait that didn't seem right.

Before he figured it out, she spun around and raised the revolver.

BANG! BANG!

The first shot missed but the second had hit his shoulder. He stumbled backwards, falling over, clutching his shoulder. She put away her handgun and rushed to get the car started. Mallas was then left alone, blood spreading quickly across the top of his shirt. The Miami heat made it quite hard to stay focused when losing blood.

People had heard the shot, rushing over and formed a circle around. Some were dialing the police, some even were screaming. But none actually bothered to help.

Mallas regained control of his body, clutching the spot where he was shot, the blood slowing. He got up and started stumbling around, going away from the crowd and into a side alley, in which he slumped back down and shut his eyes.

Two gunshots. Mac dropped whatever he was carrying at the time and ran towards where the commotion was gathering, pushing his way through and seeing a man on his side, slowly getting up but severely injured. He watched as the man made his way through the crowd, Mac followed. The man needed medical treatment. In a blink of an eye, Mac's pulse raised, thinking that he had let the injured man out of his sight and possibly die. Rounding the corner, he saw the figure slumped against the brick wall.

"I'm here to help. Stay still."

Mac took off his jacket, wrapping it around the shoulder to cushion and to stop the bleeding. "You're going to be alright…the ambulances are here."

Ambulance drivers rushed around the corner and hoisted the man on to the stretcher and into the ambulance. Mac, showing his police badge, was allowed to accompany the man to the hospital. Something was familiar of the man. If he managed to tidy up the ginger hair and shave his beard…it couldn't be…

"Mallas Franklin?!"

The man's eyes opened in response, his breathing steady but his condition critical.

Mallas blinked his eyes open. And if he could have energy to jerk, he would have jerked in pure shock of having Mac sitting next to him in an ambulance. He continued to fight sleep but the movement of the ambulance was driving him to sleep.

The ambulance drivers rushed him to the hospital once they arrived, rushing him into the emergency room to have him operated to stitch his wound up. It went in a complete blur, but Mac stayed by his side and didn't leave even for a break. He then felt his beard and hair being cut back to the original state.

Once with surgery finished, he lay in the bed. "Mac…there's a woman…no name, but remember her face." That was all he said for the rest of the evening, as his eyelids drooped into a heavy sleep.

Sam was at home, waiting for a call from Michael about their next mission which was to be held somewhere in the Everglades. He got a strange phone call from Mallas not too long after he put on a pot of coffee. "Sam Axe." he answered.

"Sorry Sam, its Mac. Mallas is asleep right now, he's at the hospital recovering." Mac said, looking into the room. "Can you make it down here? I don't mind if you bring Mike, I think he's waking up soon."

Mac ended the phone call, walking back into the ward and placing the phone by the bedside.

Sam was shocked. "What the hell happened, Mac?" he asked.

"Got stabbed up a few times, couple of bruises, nothing major." Mac said, realizing Sam was still on the phone. "Look, we need to get him out of there, I have a feeling that they're hunting him down. I left my car back at the carpark but Mallas needs to get confirmation that he is able to go, I don't want to show the badge, we want to keep the guys that did this thinking that he is still in hospital."

Sam sighed. "Excuse me, u don't wanna show your badge? Since when do u not wanna show your badge, Mac? Showing your badge is what's gonna keep those guys that hurt him from going after him again. Flash that puppy, that's the only leverage u have, apart from alerting your team about this." he said.

Mac nodded, "Fine. I'll meet you in the carpark."

He ended the phone call, shaking Mallas by the shoulder. Mac wasn't sure whether he was awake enough to walk or was too seduced by the morphine. Either way, he walked out to the reception.

"Excuse me, I have a suspect here. On strict business and need to take him out of the hospital." Mac showed his badge and saw movement in the corner of the room, his head whipped around to find a blur running out of the room.

Sighing, he ran after him. Stopping only to realize that he could be running into a trap and returned back to where Mallas was and got him into a wheelchair and started to wheel him out, glancing along the corridors in case he could spot the suspect that had fled earlier.

Nonetheless, he arrived at the car park and leaned against a pillar, waiting for Sam to arrive.

Sam arrived minutes later after talking to Mac on the phone. "Hey, I'm here, wanna fill me in on what the hell's going on here?" he asked.

Mallas was partially awake. "Stabbed." Was all he could manage in one lungful. He jerked to one side, pain kicking in as the morphine was wearing off. "Undercover…Chad…Willis." Then his eyes drooped and he was back to sleep.

Mac sighed. "Yeah, you heard him. He was undercover when a right hand man was waiting for him and then stabbed him. The woman, apparently, is working for a trafficker called Chad Willis. That's all I know."

Sam scratched his head. "Undercover? Who the hell is this Chad Willis? And what the hell doesn't e want with Franklin here? Mac, what the hell is going on here?" he asked.

"Yeah, Mallas here is his own man, much like Michael. Just the English version of him." Mac said. "I don't really know who Chad is either, we'd have to wake up Mallas to find out what he meant but he needs to rest, can we get somewhere close by to wait till this sleeping beauty wakes up?"