Disclaimer: I don't own numb3rs. This works for all chapters. Thanks.
Author: Oneshotgauntness
Story: The Slaves Next Door
Summary: Colby and Don are sold into slavery after witnessing the death of a beautiful twelve year old girl. Can the team help find them in time, or will they be forced into servitude for the rest of their lives?
A/N: I got good reception from my first two one-shot stories, so I've decided to go ahead and post this. I hope you like it. (Well, like may be a 'relative' term). I am warning you that this story talks about human trafficking and slavery. The main characters in this story will be put through the mill. I'm warning you not because I think you'll mind the character whump, but because of some of the graphic nature of this story. There is nothing too graphically described, but graphic things are mentioned. Thus I rate this "T".
I was researching human trafficking for a speech that I gave last quarter and I couldn't help but feel sorry for the victims. This story was born as a result of that. Slavery does happen in modern day America - and it does happen close to home. I live in the state of Ohio and was shocked to learn that a town about an hour and a half away from me was one of the third-highest states for slave trading.
This is the Numb3rs' team story.
Any feedback is greatly appreciated.
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Colby Granger leaned over the trash can and vomited the last bit of food he'd consumed that what he'd thought was only hours before into the waste bin. He heaved once more, gagging at the very thoughts coming out of his brain. He swallowed hard as he glanced at the unconscious Don Eppes. One side of Don's face was swollen shut, and Colby swallowed hard and closed his eyes. It was his fault that they were in this mess. He was the one who had chosen to disobey their abductors. And it was him who had gotten Don punished. Colby closed his eyes as he tried not to think about how badly Don had been beaten.
"Dammit," Colby muttered, hissing as he touched his now-branded arm in frustration. It hurt, and he was tempted to pick at the yellowishly dark marking to make it go away. Colby closed his eyes and thought about the events that had happened that evening – events that were all too readily flashing back with vivid images in his mind.
He swallowed hard as he thought about the events that had landed him and Don in this situation. He closed his eyes, attempting to block the memory from the man he had only known as Guzzo hitting him with a brown leather strap. Colby coughed as he tried not to feel how painful the strap was for a second time.
Colby tried to block the all-too-vivid memory of the man who had forcefully drugged him with a needle, holding God knew what, and shoving him into the back of the car. He remembered being blindfolded and gagged before he'd passed out.
He tried to block the image of the girl – no more than twelve years old – get killed for refusing to "cooperate" with one of the men.
He tried to block the image of him not being able to help the girl. The girl, whose throat who had been slit because she'd screamed. Colby tried to block the memory of him being beaten, again, for the simple crime of moving his shoe to try and help the girl. Colby swallowed hard and coughed again. His stomach wasn't really reacting well to whatever they'd given him. He touched the fabric of the brown carpet with his shoe.
Special Agent Colby Granger, or former special agent, as he had been told by his captors, tried to block the memory of every single event that had happened since he and his boss had left the FBI office the previous afternoon. He swallowed hard and leaned over the black waste bucket again, spewing all remainders of any food he'd previously had in his system.
Regardless of Colby's attempts to block the events that had previously happened from his mind, none of the rather deadly events would leave his head.
## - ## Break ++-
"We know they were most likely abducted when they left the FBI office at 8:00 P.M.," Special Agent Megan Reeves informed Larry Flinehart, Charlie Eppes, Special Agent David Sinclair, LAPD officer Nikki Bentacourt, and Amita Rashmajan grimly as she wringed her hands. It was clear that even after she had reapplied her makeup, she had been crying. She swallowed hard, not wanting to reveal to the team just how bad things looked for Don and Colby. "We found blood all over their vehicle, and…." She swallowed again as she thought about the scene. "We found a twelve-year-old girl dead."
"Do we know anything about the twelve-year-old?" David asked, hastily taking the notes in his notebook. Megan watched as David cast a concerned glance at Charlie, who looked like he was torn between vomiting or passing out. She sighed, torn between wishing Alan was there and being glad that he wasn't there.
"Nothing. We don't even have an ID on her yet. Charlie, we're hoping you might be able to give us something to work with on the possible routes the kidnappers might have taken. Nikki, I'd like you to supervise LAPD going through Don's and Colby's files." She closed her eyes and turned towards David. "And you and I are going to the morgue to identify a body."
David nodded, and Megan silently offered a prayer for the little, innocent, clutching-a-teddy bear twelve year old girl, who should have been at home getting tucked in bed by two loving parents. It would be her and David who would later be forced to go and talk to the little girl parents.
She swallowed hard once more as she left the room. No parent should be forced to bury a child. Megan could only hope that they could catch the bastards who had done this to Don and Colby. And fast. She self-consciously checked her watch. The twenty-four hour time period was ticking ever-closer.
## Break ##
Colby awoke from his drug-induced sleep abruptly when he heard a click and the door open. The opening of the door triggered the events of the previous of the previous night to come back to him. He closed his eyes quickly, hoping to play possum. He realized one thing was evident, though: it was morning now. The yellow sunlight shined brightly through the bars on the sole, solitary window in the room. The bright light was forced through his closed eyes.
Why would someone kill a twelve-year-old girl, but abduct two FBI agents? The entire scenario made no sense to Colby Granger. The unease in Colby's gut grew as he heard the footsteps grow closer.
"What the fuck did you kidnap two FBI agents for?" the first man, the man who had told Colby he could not speak, spoke hastily to the man who had kidnapped them. It seemed that he was pissed at the other man. Although Colby couldn't see the other man, he guessed that the man was probably Guzzo, who had forced them into the car.
"It was either that or kill them like I did the girl. She had the disease; she was of no use to us." The man – whose voice Colby recognized as Guzzo's – spat on the ground. "Besides, I thought it might be good for us to have some strong men on the team. We are over two hundred miles from their homeland. No-one will find them here, and no-one will look for them in this industry."
"Do you think anyone will pay to have sex with thirty-year-old men?" The other man's voice rose, and Colby found it took all of his willpower not to flinch, or, at least, to vomit. He closed his eyes tighter instead.
"There are other areas of domestic servitude in which they could be of use." The man's voice had a smirk, and it was all Colby could do not to deck him and take off running. He forced himself to remain calm, however, and keep his eyes closed. He had no idea where Don was and if he was hurt or worse – even dead.
"Well, I'll be leaving you to find out what exactly your mistake was. This is your mess; you get us out of it," the man responded. He exhaled slowly. "Wake up, Agent Granger. I know you're only playing possum."
Colby swallowed hard but obediently opened his eyes. They knew he and Don were FBI agents, but decided to keep them anyway. He was grateful for being kept alive instead of killed outright, but he didn't know what on earth they wanted. After seeing the twelve-year-old's death, he knew it was nothing good.
"Good boy," the first man responded, affectionately ruffling Colby's hair. Colby pulled away, only to be harshly slapped across the face. His arms were roughly grabbed and he was tossed to the ground. He closed his eyes once more as two angry feet soon found their way to his ribs.
"Hey!" he heard Don's voice suddenly cry, and he heard a pair of socked feet hit the floor. He guessed Don was up and moving. Colby struggled to pull himself up, but he was forced back down as a gun was pointed to his head. His arm twisted with a sickening crunch, and Colby knew that, with all probability, it was broken. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe through the pain. It was then that he knew that things were about to get worse – a lot worse.
## break ##
Don winced when he heard Colby's arm snap. He leapt to his feet, ready to attack in an instant, not in a bit amused that they had taken away his shoes. He summarized that was to keep him from escaping. All these thoughts flew by as he attempted to punch one of the men in their face. His punch never landed, however, and Special Agent Don Eppes soon found himself on the floor.
"Leave Colby alone," Don said, already noticing a small streak of blood on Colby's face. That was so not good. They had seen a twelve-year-old get killed yesterday. Specifically, their kidnappers had taken a knife to her throat and slit it. He swallowed hard and winced, realizing that meant that they were not going to go easy on two FBI agents. Actually, he was surprised that they hadn't been killed yet, although he kept that observation to himself.
"You will not speak," the first man ordered as he dragged Don to his feet. He placed a knife against Don's neck, and Don's breath hitched. He feared that if he even breathed another breath, he would be dead. He didn't even glance at his fellow team member. "If you speak, I will slit Colby's throat. If you leave this room, I will slit the agent's throat." He turned towards Colby, who looked like he was close to passing out from the pain. "You are coming with me," he said finally after studying him for a minute. "We will patch up your arm, and you will work for us."
Don wanted to tell the man to go to hell, that he and Colby would never obey him, but his junior agent shot Don a look of fear as he was hoarded from the doorway. It was then, Don realized, that until he and Colby could escape, they were stuck with some mentally ill people.
Mentally ill people who had control over them. And God knew how many other people.
And who had killed a beautiful, twelve-year-old girl for having AIDS.
## break ##
"We think they were taken outside of Joe's pub," David said. He did not show Larry, Amita and Charlie the pictures they'd found of the crime scene. He hadn't wanted to see them himself and had been horrified when he had. He swallowed hard. "We… found substantial evidence there."
"What happened, David?" Charlie asked. He checked his watch, and David guessed he was feeling relieved that Alan was still on his flight back from Hawaii.
David knew he had to tell Charlie, but didn't relish this part. "We found the girl's body there, as well as another dead man. We think he worked for them; we identified one of Colby's bullets in his body."
Charlie winced, and David knew what he was thinking. If Colby had killed one of the men, his likelyhood of surviving the encounter with the men, well already slim, grew ever smaller.
## break ##
Don had passed out again when Colby came back from his trip to the doctor's office. More accurately he had been dragged back fromhis trip to the doctor's office. The man had drugged him during the operation, but had relished at how much pain Colby was in before the operation by twisting his well-bent arm even further.
Colby's stomach clenched as he attempted to bury himself under the blue blanket that was worn and thin. He was quickly learning that nothing here was meant for the comfort of anyone but the men in charge. He'd already identified at least six men as leaders who came in and out of the house on a regular basis, and summarized that there were at least three more who had access from the conversation.
He closed his eyes, remembering his words to Megan during a particularly tough case: and yeah, no guy agrees not to have sex. How true that was. He closed his eyes even tighter and wrapped the thin blanket around him.
Colby had gotten out one word in protest before the man had slapped him. The man then said that if any other word was uttered by Colby, Don's throat would be slit. After seeing the way they'd brutally attacked the twelve-year-old, Colby believed it.
He was forced to watch as they took out his wallet, his car keys, and his other FBI stuff. The doctor – it seemed he had more job titles, perhaps even leader – had taken out his gun and emptied it, and then put Colby's own gun in his own pocket. Another man had pocketed Don's gun.
Then, Colby was told how the system would work. He and Don each owed the men fifty thousand dollars because their life had been spared. Their documents would be "safeguarded", the man explained, until the ordeal was over. If Colby and Don attempted to communicate with anyone at all, the documents would be burned, and they really would have nowhere to turn.
Their FBI weaponry and badges were to be returned to the FBI in a little black bag with a message that Colby had been forced to write. He'd silently protested until they'd left to go "beat some sense into Don." He had hastily agreed before they made good on their threat.
The message that he had been forced to write simply was, "We're owned now."
It felt like he was signing his life away.
## break ##
Megan slipped on her shoes and gun as she answered her cell phone. She glanced silently at Charlie and Amita, who were hard at work after a full night's sleep. Well, she thought, not really a full night's sleep, but at least some sleep. She hung up her cell phone and glanced at David. "That was the mail service from downstairs," she responded finally. "They have a message for us."
"Let's go," David responded grimly. He, too, checked his watch, and Megan knew what he was thinking. The twenty-four-hour mark had almost been hit. The longer that mark grew, the less likely it was that Special Agent Colby Granger and Special Agent Don Eppes would be left alive.