Title--Diagnosis-Revenge
Title--Diagnosis-Revenge
Author--Winnie
Rating--T for language and violence
Characters--Steve Sloan, Mark Sloan, Jesse Travis, Amanda Bentley
Disclaimer--I own no claim to Diagnosis Murder or the characters. This story was written for enjoyment only and no profit will be made from it.
Comments--I've recently bought season one of Diagnosis Murder and it brought back the reasons why I enjoyed the show. Barry Van Dyke is a wonderful actor and brought the character of Steve Sloan to life. Dick Van Dyke also portrayed Mark Sloan memorably and the rest of the cast were also a joy to watch. This is my first Diagnosis Murder fic and I hope you enjoy it.
Mark Sloan had never been so tired in his life and sank wearily onto the chair before rubbing at tired eyes. How many times had he been in this position? How many families had he faced with the news that their loved one hadn't made it?
"Mark, are you okay?" Amanda Bentley asked from the open doorway. She'd seen Mark Sloan enter the doctor's lounge after speaking with the couple now being consoled by the hospital chaplain.
"I'm just tired, Amanda," Mark answered as she poured a cup of coffee and handed it to him. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Bentley told him. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"He was just a kid, Amanda…17 years old and he should have been surfing or playing ball not robbing some liquor store," Sloan said. "I just don't understand what's happening with young people today."
"I know and it scares me to think how many kids are turning to crime."
"I worry about Steve because they are so young. He finds it hard to talk about his job when it involves a kid like Brian Johnson. His father said he could have had a full scholarship, but chose the easy way," Mark spat. "Why can't they understand the easy way usually ends the hard way?"
"It's the way the world is today, Mark, all we can do is keep hoping for the best and make sure we teach the proper values to our loved ones. Why don't you go home and get some rest?"
"I think I will, Amanda," Sloan said, placing the untouched cup of coffee on the table and standing up. He'd spent four grueling hours doing everything in his power to save the young man, but the damage had been beyond repair and he'd been forced to call it when the boy's heart refused to start again.
"Is Steve home yet?" Amanda asked knowing Steve Sloan had been at a conference on the use of firearms.
"He should be unless he was asked to give another talk on cleaning weapons," Mark said, smiling at the thought of his son being cajoled into public speaking. "Damn, I was supposed to meet Jesse…"
"I'll tell him what happened," Amanda assured her friend. "He'll understand, Mark."
"Thanks, Amanda," Mark said and sighed tiredly. "I'll see you in the morning."
Amanda watched him leave and reached for the cup of black coffee. She took several sips and thought about Steve Sloan. Mark's son was a damn good cop and she knew he would be able to talk with his father and ease some of the pain the senseless death had caused. She finished the coffee and headed back to her office to finish up several reports before heading home to her own family.
DMDMDMDMDMDMDM
Damian Ryan was angrier than he'd ever been in his life. At 21 years old he'd been part of a gang for over ten years. Now he was the undisputed leader of the east side gang known as El Diablo. He found it ironic that he'd been called after the kid in the movie 'The Omen' and had done everything he could to prove he deserved the name. He'd made his first kill at the age of thirteen and had killed again without emotion. His father had once said he had no soul and his answer had been that he did…it was just so black it couldn't be seen. Shortly afterward he'd killed both his parents and made it look like an accident, but he'd enjoyed listening to their scream as the fire ate at their bodies.
"Damian."
He turned at the sound of the voice and smiled at the pretty young woman standing there. He'd found her working the streets and had quickly trained her in the way of gang life. She wore his colors and his mark, a tattoo depicting the three 6s associated with Satan with pride. "Has there been any word from Tito?"
"He just called to say Brian didn't make it…"
"Sonofabitch!" Damian spat. Brian had shown such promise and he'd been grooming him to become his right hand, but the liquor store robbery had gone bad and the kid had wound up being shot by the clerk. He knew the doctor who was working on Brian and had already put a plan in place should Mark Sloan fail to save Brian's life.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Call Tito and have him set the trap…we'll meet him there in half an hour and tell him to make sure nothing screws this up, Tatiana!" Damian turned back to the broken window and stared out at the street three floors below. The old apartment building was scheduled to be demolished, but so far the city hadn't shown any sign that they were ready to move. This is where they would take their latest victim and make damn sure Mark Sloan understood what happened when he'd crossed paths with El Diablo.
DMDMDMDMDMDM
Steve Sloan sighed as he turned onto the road that would lead to the beach house he shared with his father. He hated conferences, but understood the need for them and had actually enjoyed himself over the last few days. Amanda had called to let him know that his father had gone home early and told him how devastated he'd been over the young man's death. Steve knew about the gangs and they'd been clamping down on several, but had yet to make any real arrests.
Steve drove along the familiar road, enjoying the solitude as the bright moon shone down from high overhead. He frowned as his headlights caught on something on the shoulder of the road and pulled to the side before exiting his car. He jogged the short distance calling to the young woman, but got no reaction as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right, Miss?"
"I'm fine, Lieutenant Sloan," Tatiana said with a smile and turned, stumbling into him before he had a chance to react.
Steve felt something stab into his shoulder and cried out as he shoved her away. He reached for the blade in his shoulder and pulled it free as he hurried toward his car. He reached for his gun, but had no chance to pull it free as his legs struck against something and he lost his balance. He hit the pavement hard and tried to roll over, but a kick to his left side had him gasping for air as his gun was torn from his grasp.
Steve fought to get up, but something struck his right temple and he went down hard. He heard malicious laughter as his arms were pulled behind his back and metal cuffs were locked in place. He continued to struggle in spite of the blurred vision, but there were too many of them and several more blows landed on his body as his ankles were tied together. Darkness swam at the edge of his vision as he was turned onto his back and someone knelt on his chest.
"Your father will find out what it means to cross El Diablo, Lieutenant Sloan…too bad you're the one who has to suffer for his mistakes, but who better than a pig to pay the price," Damian stated and struck Steve with the butt of his own gun. "Tito, Marco get him in the trunk and then lock up his car…wouldn't want it to get stolen so close to home."
Damian pulled Tatiana into his arms and pressed his lips to hers. "You did good, Tati…now we can have some fun and make Dr. Sloan and his son wish they'd ever heard of El Diablo."
"Are we going to kill him?" Tatiana asked.
"In good time, but first we have to make Dr. Sloan suffer," Damian said, smiling as Sloan's body was dumped into the trunk of his car. He waited for Tito and Marco to lock up Sloan's vehicle and climbed into the driver's seat of his own car. He waited for the others to get in and then drove back toward the city and the abandoned building they called home.
DMDMDMDMDMDM
Mark Sloan nursed the glass of wine and relaxed in the chair as he watched the sky overhead. Steve had called from the airport to say he'd be home tonight and Mark looked forward to seeing his son. Jesse had stopped by and brought ribs from BBQ Bob's, but had gone home soon after because he had an early shift at Community General.
Mark stood up when the phone began to ring and hurried inside. He picked it up and placed it against his ear before speaking. "Sloan…"
"Dr. Sloan, do you have any idea what it's like to lose someone you care about?"
"Who is this?" Mark asked, frowning as soft laughter reached his ears.
"You don't know me…at least not yet, but I'm afraid I've personally introduced myself to your son…he didn't enjoy our first meeting, and I doubt he'll enjoy our next one either…"
"Steve…where is he?"
"He's with me…would you like to speak with him? Oh wait, it's too early for that, but perhaps I can let you hear him. Just give me a second to find the best way to make him scream…"
DMDMDMDMDMDMDM
Steve had regained conciousness has they'd carried him into a room and dumped him on a rotting mattress, but he'd kept silent until he'd been left alone. He'd tried to free his hands, but the cuffs were tight enough to cut off the circulation. He struggled with the bindings around his ankles, but whoever had tied the knots made damn sure he wouldn't get out of them. A sound outside the closed door made him go still and he kept his eyes closed as footsteps got closer.
"Your Dad wants to hear you scream, Lieutenant Sloan," Damian told him and brought his foot down on Steven's inner thigh, grinding the heel until his captive cried out..
DMDMDMDMDMDMDM
"No…God no!" Mark cried, but the unmistakable sound of his son's scream had him drop to his knees. "Stop!"
"You didn't say please, Dr. Sloan…"
"Please, stop," Mark answered easily.
"That's better…now, Dr. Sloan, you should keep your phone line open because I will be calling back and who knows…maybe I'll make a mistake and you'll find me before your son dies…then again maybe not…"
The line went dead and Mark Sloan felt as if he'd been sucker punched as he stared at the useless instrument. He knew he should call Captain Newman, but right now all he could think about was Steve and who had him.
DMDMDMDMDMDMDM
Steve managed to stay conscious as his captor hung up the phone and reached down to grab him by the hair, twisting until they were face to face. Steve could smell the stale tobacco and liquor on the younger man's breath and fought the churning nausea in his gut.
"My name is Damian, Lieutenant Sloan," Ryan said. "You're here until I think your father's suffered enough so lie back and enjoy your new digs."
Steve watched him leave and tried to control the nausea, but the smell of the soiled mattress was disgusting and he turned onto his side as bitter bile rose in his throat. Again and again he heaved until there was nothing left and he sank weakly onto his side and lay still. Darkness reached out for him and there was no choice, but to embrace it as pain fared through his skull.
TBC