Title: Desperation
Author: The Dreamy One
Rating: R
Type: Drama/Angst
Summary: Forced to play the role of a CIA patsy, Donovan has a tough decision to make. No matter what choice he makes; he loses. [Frank/Shay fic]
Disclaimer: UC:Undercover and its characters are the property of NBC, Shane Salerno, etc. No infringements intended. Shay, the kids, Thomas, Katie, Deirdre, etc. are the property of the author; please do not use without permission.
***
Paperwork. His life consisted of more paper than was housed in the Library of Congress. Bureaucrats and their paperwork would be the death of him someday. He groaned inwardly as another file was tossed into his in-basket. Looking up he found his gangly computer genius standing at the foot of his desk. "Something you need, Cody?"
"No...just wondering if Shay was taking the day off or something. I was supposed to teach her how to use the new surveillance software."
Donovan leaned back in his chair, rubbing the fingers of his right hand gently over his lips. "She hasn't made it in?" He had been strapped to his desk all morning filling out reports and he hadn't taken the time to see if everyone had arrived.
"No and I tried to call her cell, but just keep getting her voicemail."
Frank nodded. "I'll check around. How's that new voice-over software coming along?"
Cody scrunched up his face. "It's not."
"Then get it working," Frank ordered, effectively dismissing Cody.
He took a minute to call Thomas Renquist, Shay's father, to see if she had dropped the kids off at his house for the day. Yes, she had. He also called Cody's wife, Katie, but found that she had not heard from Shay since the previous day. His worry mounted when he called her cell and was asked to leave a voicemail message.
He remembered, back in the not too distant past, when Shay had been disappearing mysteriously during the time he was being hunted by a CIA spook who turned out to be none other than Shay's allegedly deceased mother. The reason for those disappearances turned out to be innocent. Shay had only been seeking help in trying to slay her own personal mental demons.
Thinking she could have stopped by the women's crisis center, where she volunteered as a councilor twice a week, he called the administrator of the facility. This wasn't her day to volunteer, but it was worth a shot. To his dismay, no one had heard from her.
Exhaling a nervous breath, he pushed back from his desk and went in search of Cody. He found him at his console banging his head repeatedly on the desk. "A new kind of therapy?" Donovan asked, slightly amused.
"Funny...." Cody replied, lifting his head in irritation. "There are enough bugs in this software to infest Europe," he complained.
"Humph," Donovan grunted. "Well, can that for the minute. Find Shay's car," he ordered.
Cody glanced at his boss quickly, but didn't detect any hint of worry on his part. "Something wrong?"
"No one's seen her since she dropped the kids off at Dad's," Frank replied quietly.
Cody nodded and punched up the tracking software and entered the request for Shay's red Celica. Odd. "About three miles away from Mr. Renquist's home."
It was that precise moment that Jake came in gingerly carrying a small, rectangular shaped package he had found at the door when he arrived for work. "Frank...this has your name on it."
Frank took the proffered package and carefully opened it. A videocassette. The knot that formed in his gut hit him so fast and so hard, you would have thought Evander Holyfield had come along and sucker punched him. Events from two weeks prior surfaced and screamed in the back of his mind. You're crazy, Donovan. No way.
Handing Cody the cassette, he joined the others at the briefing table and sat motionless waiting for the message to be delivered. His stomach churned and the bile rose in his throat as the images appeared on the monitor.
The silhouette of a woman with honey-blonde hair seated at a small conference table came into view. She was being held in an interrogation room of some type, her hands were cuffed behind her back and a blindfold covered her eyes. The bruises on her one visible cheek were fresh, as was the split in her bottom lip where a thin line of blood trickled down her chin. Shay.
"No wonder we can't find her," Cody whispered as he glanced at Frank. His boss sat motionless and emotionless watching the monitor. How can he be so calm? If it were Katie, I'd be a raving lunatic.
His attention turned back to the monitor when Shay finally spoke. "Who's there?" Her head turned toward the camera as if she heard a presence nearby.
"That's not your concern," a voice replied. It was a deep voice, male and husky. "Your concern is to convince your husband to carry out my request."
"What the hell are you talking about?" she demanded, straightening herself in the chair.
"He didn't tell you, did he?" the voice questioned with amusement. "Now, why doesn't that surprise me?"
"What the hell do you want from us?" Shay demanded angrily.
"From you...nothing," he answered pointedly. "However, your husband knows full well the price for your release."
"You fucking bastard," she spat as she struggled against her bonds. "I don't know what you want from him...and I don't give two shits. Let him be already!!"
Jesus, we've come full circle, Frank thought angrily while watching his Ashling struggle to free her wrists from the handcuffs that held her. How long had it been since Thomas Renquist delivered him a video of a young woman held captive at the hands of a Colombian drug lord? But this was different; she was in this situation because of him, because he had refused the request of a former associate yet again.
He watched as the camera zoomed in on her face, showing more clearly the bruises that had been inflicted upon her. He felt the anger boiling in his blood. Never one for violence if it could be handled any other way, he was ready to kill. Murder, ugly and brutal. His wife, for God's sake! They dared to threaten his gift, his vision.
"I must apologize for the state your wife is in. She put up quite a fight and I'm afraid we found it necessary to manhandle her just a bit," the voice explained in arrogant simplicity. "To ensure that she is not punished further, I expect you to do as you were asked, Mr. Donovan. I await your reply."
The video faded to black. Cody and Jake stared at the screen in disbelief and silently wondered what exactly the man behind the camera had wanted from Frank Donovan that they would hold his wife ransom until they got what they demanded.
Jake stood and began to pace around the room waiting for Frank to react. His own emotions churned in turmoil. Who would kidnap Shay, the main reason he and Frank had become more like brothers than co-workers? And growing closer to him over these past couple of years, Jake knew full well the depth and strength of Frank's love for Shay. He watched while Frank sat entranced by the blank screen, as if seeing something that no one else on the planet was privy to.
Cody went to the video player and ejected the tape. He noticed Frank still seated at the table, staring at the darkened screen as if he was still watching the scene unfold. Knowing his own anger and fear for Shay was building to extreme proportions, he could only imagine what Donovan was going through. If he was going through anything, that is. The man looked as if he was stone, an unfeeling rock that let nothing through. Even after all this time, it still amazed Cody how guarded Frank was with his emotions. With the exception of the team's shared vacation, he never let loose with his feelings. Only with Shay, and only if he believed no one was paying any attention to them. No, he was still the IceMan.
Suddenly, Frank released a tortured howl and bolted from his seat, causing both Jake and Cody to jump back from him. Frank grabbed the edge of the table directly in front of him and violently tossed it onto its side. It crashed to the floor noisily; papers and drinks scattered and splattered, but he paid them no mind. His thoughts were in a tortured, haunted place. A place he thought he had left for good, but the son-of-a-bitches just would not let him go.
He felt as if he had died a thousand tormented deaths when his precious wife appeared on that monitor. She was once again paying for something in his past. Would it never die and leave him in peace? Did he not deserve some semblance of happiness in his life? He knew without a doubt that Shay, his wife and mother of his children, deserved every happiness. And what have you ever given her? Nothing but heartache after heartache!
Jake and Cody watched in commiseration when Frank sank to his knees, his face buried in his hands. Jake knew the pain and torment of a loved one being held hostage. He knew the gamut of emotions that Frank was going through. Fear, despair, frustration, helplessness, anger, rage. Each one would cycle through his brain and take hold of his body in a torturous, physical, and, yet, solely mental attack.
Taking a deep breath, Frank stood and tried, without much success, to get his emotions under control. He rubbed the back of his neck in an attempt to alleviate the tension that knotted there. He wanted to rip a hole into the world to find and grab hold of the shining light of his life. His beacon...his guide to safe harbor. But she was where he would never be able to get to her. He had no choice; there was no other answer.
Each of the three men had been so deep into their own emotions; they had not noticed Alex's entrance. "Whoa! What happened here?"
Frank gaped at the sight of the overturned table and the paper and spilled drinks that littered the floor. Realizing he had lost control in front of everyone sans Alex, he felt mortified. He was their leader, the one always so in control, and here he was tearing up the place. God help me, I've lost it this time.
The silence was deafening. Cody felt the uneasiness from Donovan for his lack of self-control. He knelt and began cleaning up the mess from the floor and glanced up at Alex. "I don't remember the news mentioning a tornado passing through," he joked.
Alex frowned at the sight of the three men hurriedly straightening up the mess on the floor. "Where's Shay? I found the cutest little outfit for Zack..."
Frank slammed the table back down on its four legs and stared at Alex holding up a tiny pair of bib overalls and t-shirt that she had purchased for his son. The chirping of a cell phone caused him to jump. He fumbled for the phone clipped to his belt and hurriedly answered it.
Alex gawked at her otherwise composed boss. Rarely had she seen him this agitated. "What the hell's going on?" she asked Jake and Cody who just hung their heads without answering.
"Donovan," he answered quickly.
"Are you more inclined to fulfill my request, Mr. Donovan?"
Donovan laughed menacingly. "You've got me by the balls, Wingard. I'll do what you ask and you better hope I die during this, you twisted fuck. Because if I live...I can promise that you won't."
Alex blinked and gaped openly at her superior. She still had no clue as to what had happened, but by Donovan's intensity and actions she'd never witnessed from him before, she knew something was terribly wrong.
***
To be continued...