Hostage.

He had been disorientated at first, when they had grabbed him. With his hands juggling his lunch box and phone, his attention on the information Sarah was giving him, he had been preoccupied. Off guard. He wasn't paying attention. It was stupid, really. He was getting closer and closer to closing the case, and with that, exposing a cover up. They - who - he really wasn't sure, had already covered up the death of one man. Why wasn't he expecting this? He, and his whole team, in the eyes of the counter terrorist unit, and other government officials, were expendable. Collateral damage. And right now, they, whoever the hell they were, had just bundled him into a car and restrained his hands behind his back in a ridiculously tight manner, gagged him, and after a slight struggle bagged him too. Boyd tried not to panic, as a thought hit him: was he now a non person?

Who had him? Where were they taking him? What did they want? The questions fired through his mind in quick succession. He had many theories, but no solid answers. He could feel the car driving fast, taking sharp corners and covering bumpy terrain. He thought back to his ambush - there were at least 5 of them, a driver, the two who ambushed him on the street and another two in the back, waiting for him with the strip ties. The plastic cut into his wrists painfully tight, reminding him of their work. Whoever they were they were professional and organised and right now he was at their complete mercy.

*WTD*WTD*WTD*

Sarah was pacing, phone in her hand as she scaled the office floor, hoping Boyd would ring back at any moment. She felt guilty. It was irrational, but she had been the one talking to Boyd when he was taken. Spence was trying to convince the team that everything was okay, that Boyd was off on one, having an episode; he'd turn up in an hour or two with a lead, or a temper, he claimed. Grace was worried. She hugged her arms to he chest and frowned, every so often sighing and shaking her head. Eve was neutral, offering no suggestions, no theories, no counter arguments or words of support. Just their, waiting to be given an instruction, waiting to act. Sarah needed them to act.

"You don't understand. Boyd asked me to seek out my contacts on this. I did so, and they lied to me. Why did they lie? I hate to say this, but if they were involved in a cover up, they could be involved in this. And if they are, Boyd's in trouble."

"Boyd hung up on you!" Spence was incredulous. "He's frustrated and he hung up on you! That's all there is to it. And when he waltzes in, in maybe an hours, two hours time, he'll be angry we wasted time and resources on him instead of the case, the case we're still running in circles around instead of breaking!"

"You didn't hear him. He was cut off. I heard a struggle. I heard a vehicle… I don't know, tyres squealing, as though somebody was speeding away. And then his phone went dead. And now its on answer machine. Something is wrong."

"This could be nothing," Grace sighed.

"He could have ran out of charge!" Spence cut in, throwing his hands in the air.

"I'm sorry Spence but I'm not willing to take that risk." Grace looked serious, ready for a fight, but at the same time, tired - she really was worried. Spence nodded his head in surrender.

"Okay," he nodded. "What do you want us to do?"

"Can we trace his phone?"

Eve finally piped up. "I've already set up a signal triangulation scan. The phone's off, which means theirs no signal, but if that changes I'll get an alert and a location ASAP."

"Thanks Eve. Spence, should we bring in back up, report this as an officer kidnapping?"

"No!" Sarah cut in, almost skidding on the floor in her heels. "No involvement other than us."

"You just convinced us these people, these dangerous people, have taken Boyd, but you don't want to bring in back-up?" Spence was readying himself for another argument.

"We don't even know who these people are. Are they counter terrorist, are they hired guns, government backed, are they even UK officials? We can not trust outsiders. This has to stay below the radar."

Grace rubbed at her eyes. "Then what else can we do?"

Sarah shrugged. "I'm going to walk the location we found his car at. Maybe I can find something there? A lead, a clue."

"That's a long shot!"

"It's something," Sarah called over her shoulder as she headed out of the room.

Spence gently tapped Grace on the shoulder, hoping the gesture would bring comfort. "I'm going to start trawling though CCTV footage. Care to join me?"

Grace nodded, pulling her cardigan around her tightly as she followed Spence into his office.

"We have to find him Spencer."

"I know," he muttered, "we will."

*WTD*WTD*WTD*

After the blow to each of his shoulder blades with the baton, Boyd heard the weapon clatter to the floor. He felt some relief, and sucked in a deep breath whilst trying to hide the pain the hits had caused. But the relief was short lived as his attacker moved to face him and pulled his leather gloves off. They hit the floor and seconds later the still balaclava masked 'John' delivered a breathtaking punch to the face that nearly toppled Boyd to the floor. Boyd closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, trying to stop the sickly spinning sensation that was swirling through his focus.

John nodded and another masked man pushed the chair over, sending it, and Boyd who was tied to it, onto the cold floor. Boyd shuddered again, feeling his arm jar from the weight of his body as it crushed it against the floor. Is this it, he wondered, gaining his focus as he looked down at the gritty floor, is this a stunt to scare me off, is this over now?

John could almost read Boyd's thoughts and laughed out loud as he circled the restrained man. "I know what you're thinking, and boy, are you wrong." With great satisfaction he stepped over and kicked his boot into Boyd's unprotected stomach, feeling the steel cap of his boots hit the mans midsection, he grunted with the force as Boyd roared in pain, and then gasped for breath, winded from the kick. "That, my friend, was for the head butt. Now, back to business. Chris, get him up."

Body looked around disorientated as a man appeared, almost invisible from the dark shadows of the warehouse and up righted his chair with ease. Body hung his head and continued his fight for breath. Feeling stronger, he asked, "what the hell do you want from me?" John shook his head and smiled, as though entertaining a naughty child who was disrupting the classroom. "You're not in charge here Boyd, you don't get to ask the q-"

"So is it to scare me off, or is it, is it to distract my team, or I don't know, maybe you want me to help you-"

Boyd stopped and braced himself as he saw John's fist coming back at him. Fast. Heavy. At the last minute he noticed something gold, or was it silver, glistening in his hand, and then the fist reached its target, snapping Boyd's head back with such force that it sent the chair toppling over, again, onto its back; its occupant, unconscious, with a gaping gash slashing open the quickly bruising skin covering the left cheekbone.

John knelt down next to his victim and gave a rough tug of his hair, sceptical Boyd was feigning unconsciousness. Once certain he was out, he quickly pulled Boyd's phone from his pocket, switched it on and took a picture of the beaten detective. He took a look at the quality of his photo and nodded, satisfied. "Chris," he yelled, "wake him up."

Chris stepped out of the shadows once more. "How?"

"A bucket of water? For f**ks sake get on with it, just wake him up now! We're not finished yet."

Mark watched Chris scuttle away and nodded towards the phone. "What's that for? I thought we were told to keep it off, in case they track it."

"It's only been on for a minute, they can't do anything with that. Besides, this will work as a distraction, easier than killing him or his team. My orders were to get them off the case, and by taking him, I'm sure the rest will be too lost to function. This is just to keep them off focus, worried about him." John rubbed his hands together to try and warm them up. "I don't know about you but this is going to be easier than killing a DSI, even if the entire force hates him."

Mark laughed. "Fine, send the photo. We'll wait a few hours, see how their investigation goes after this. Without him it will be easier to shut them down anyway."

Chris came back with a rusted bucket of water, full to the top, water sloshed over the edges as he rushed over with it. "We've got a couple of hours to wait ourselves," John said, seeing the enquiring look on Mark, his partners face, "I don't see why I can't enjoy them."

"Just be careful."

"I will. But it doesn't matter what I do, Tristan will make sure nothing happens. Well, as long as he isn't dead. Soon we'll offer a trade, him for all of their information, with the threat of murder, should they ever try to chase this up in the future. Piece of cake! Now, I've got a blinding headache and a split nose he needs to pay for, besides the shit storm his investigation has kicked up for us."

Mark nodded. "I'm going to make some calls. Just remember to keep him alive." As he turned away he heard his friends manic laughter time with the splash of the water and the coughs and gasps from the old man as he was brought too.

*WTD*WTD*WTD*

Hi! Have not wrote anything in a while but the new season has my imagination running wild!

Hope you like this, please let me know what you think!