Hey ppls! Another "Michael finds Kellerman torturing Sara" fic. Didn't like the last one I wrote so I tried again. Hope thisun will flow a bit better! I own zip. Much love, huggles to all who read this! And even those who don't. ;)
"…. if there is serious injury, you are to take life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn, wound for wound, bruise for bruise." -Exodus 21:23-25
"This is a fully automatic pistol, Michael. Military issue. It's pretty much illegal to carry."
"If she's hurt, carrying it will be nothing compared to the crime I'll commit…"
The weapon in question was tucked away in Michael's jeans as he drove swiftly towards the hotel.
His father's stare haunted him.
He'd willingly given him the gun, knowing what he was going to use it for.
He recalled the conversation with Lincoln moments later, as his reunited family stood together in Aldo's hideout.
'Dad has evidence that could help us. We may not need to leave the country at all, Michael. He says we're close to the truth. You really want to take this risk? You did say she left on her own…'
'Just the same, I have to find her. She's not safe alone. I need to get to her before someone else does.'
Michael shook the memory away as the town of Gila came into view.
He would start there, and work his way around each nearby city until he found her.
If she was still in New Mexico, he would find her.
A sick feeling formed in his stomach as he thought of what could happen to her…what could have already happened.
He hoped he was just being paranoid.
He prayed for it.
The blurred image of "Lance" came into view as Sara opened her eyes.
He was giving her a break, giving her time to consider her options before he continued his interrogation.
A pained moan escaped her lips. She was exhausted.
Her skin tingled with cold, her hair dripped wet from her head being repeatedly shoved into the bathtub .
Her face stung with the slap he'd given her when she'd cursed him.
And her thigh…it burned.
The memory of the hot iron hit her with terror.
She was so tired. Too tired to cry out against the gag in her mouth, or struggle in the chair she was tied in.
Lance bent down before her, his eyes dull with no remorse evident within them. Through her obscured eyesight she could make out his hand coming toward her.
His fingers pulled down the cloth in her mouth.
"I'll tell you what. I'll trade facts with you. And as a show of kindness, I'll go first. I'm Paul. Lance was just one of the many names I've gone by. Now…your turn. Where was Michael going to meet his brother?"
Gritting her teeth and focusing to clear her vision, Sara glared at the man that was now pressing the barrel of a pistol to her temple.
Her voice was strained, scratchy, and quiet.
"I don't know. And if I did…I wouldn't tell you. So you're just wasting your precious time, aren't you?"
From the frustrated manner in which his brow furrowed, she should have been concerned for her life.
But at this point, after everything she'd been through….she really didn't care anymore.
Her father was dead, her career non-existent, her life a target for others to destroy.
And Michael…he probably assumed she was gone. He was more then likely fed up with chasing her, or had taken the hint that she no longer wanted to chase after him.
But the fact was, she had been planning on going to go back to that hotel room. She wasn't going to leave him.
And this "Paul" just had to be there, just at that moment, to bind and blindfold her, throw her in a car, and drive away.
She had no idea where she was. But from the time they left to the time they stopped, she guessed it couldn't have been more than fifty miles from Gila.
Sara bit her lip when he bent in close to her ear.
Warmth tickled the lobe as his breath hit.
"There's no point in protecting them. Scofield doesn't care about you. If you told me where he was going, not only would he get what was coming to him for using you, but I may consider letting you live."
Sara scoffed inwardly and pulled her head away from the damp air of his breath.
"You really think I believe that? Whether or not I tell you anything, I'm dead either way. You can't afford to let me live. So stop placating me, it isn't going to help you any more than tormenting me."
A shiver of panic ran through her spine when he grinned at her defiance.
She felt her eyes burn with tears when a knife replaced the gun in his hand.
"I don't think you understand just how far I'm willing to go, Sara. The "torment" I've put you through so far was just a warm up. You WILL tell me where they're going, or you'll die wishing you had."