Thanks to InfinityStar for your guidance. You rock!

Chapter 2

San Benito, Texas 6pm Sunday (42 hours missing) Day2

Bobby woke up lying on a small cot in a tiny room. He was no longer bound or gagged. Slowly he moved his legs and arms finding them functional. He surveyed his surroundings. A dim light bulb hung from ceiling barely adding light to the room. There were two bottles of water and a sack on the floor next to the cot. In the corner of the room a small bucket. There were no windows and only one steel door.

He sat up slowly and placed his feet on the ground. The nausea and dizziness returned. He knelt over the bucket, getting there in time for the first dry heave. He passed out by the bucket on the cool floor.

Sunday midnight (48 hours missing) Day 3

He woke up stiff and uncomfortable on the concrete floor. He rolled over and reached up to rub his eyes and groaned. Slowly he pushed himself off the floor and stumbled to the cot. He sat on the edge feeling a little better than before. He had n o idea how much time had passed but it had to be hours.

He opened the water bottle and smelled the contents; it seemed safe. He took a sip and screwed the top back on. He checked the door, finding it locked. He didn't hear any voices or movement nearby. He sat back down and finished the first bottle of water. The sack contained a pack of saltines, how thoughtful of his host. He nibbled on a few saltines and lay back down to sleep.

Monday 2:00 am (50 hours missing) Day 3

Bobby woke this time with a clear head, feeling as if he had a horrible nightmare. He opened his eyes and grasped the reality of his situation. He stood up and began to pace the tiny room. He could hardly make more than five small steps before turning.

His eyes searched every inch of his prison looking for a way out. He lightly pounded on the wall finding the walls were solid concrete. The door was steel within a steel frame. Even the ceiling appeared to be concrete. There was a very small 4x6 inch hole in the ceiling for ventilation. There was no way out.

He could not hear anything outside the room. He rubbed his face and then the back of his neck and began to pace. His mind raced with suspects and scenarios, none of which bode well for him.

Feeling his beard he figured he had been gone for two days. He rolled up his sleeves and looked and the needle marks. There were two punctures on each arm. They must be medicating him every ten to twelve hours.

Could it be Monday morning, would anyone realize he was missing yet?

He sat down and sighed, I might as well polish off the crackers and water. An idea surfaced as he chewed on the crackers. He grabbed the bag and filled it with air. He closed off the end of the bag and smacked it between his large hands. The result was a loud bang. He listened carefully for any sound or movement around him, but nothing stirred.

He got up and went to the bucket to relieve himself and went back to the cot. He flipped the cot up on its end looking for something he could use as a weapon. The cot was welded together with a canvas stretched across the bars. There was nothing he could take apart. He could use it as a battering ram if only there was more room to maneuver. The bucket was the only weapon. At least he could go out slinging urine at his abductors.

Monday 4:00 am (52 hours missing) Day 3

He put the cot back and lay down on his back, staring at the ceiling. A steady stream of white smoke began pouring out of the vent. He pulled his shirt over his nose and mouth breathing as little as possible. Man, they thought of everything.

He heard the door open but was unable to move. Jesus and the men entered the room, watching Bobby carefully. Bobby felt the needle in his vein and his world swirled into darkness.

Leaving San Benito, Texas

Monday 4:00 pm (64 hours missing) Day 3

Bobby woke feeling very confused. He felt a low rumble and the hum of a motor indicating he must be in a moving vehicle. Why couldn't he move? His shoulders felt squeezed and metal bit into his wrists and chest. He tried to move his legs and again metal bit into his hips and ankles. He couldn't move his head either. A gag and blindfold were in place.

He extended his fingers and felt wood on each side of him. Panic began to take hold and he started to shake. Folding the panic into something constructive he began to move his body left to right hoping to topple the box that imprisoned him. Eventually the vehicle hit a bump as he was rocking causing the box to fall on its side. The lid remained closed and the bindings cut into his skin as he hung sideways in the box.

The vehicle stopped and he heard the doors close. Another vehicle pulled up and more doors slammed. He felt the weight of the men climb into the vehicle. The men grunted and groaned cussing in Spanish and slammed the box into the correct position.

The lid opened and Jesus spoke in a soft voice. "A little more sleep will do you some good."

He leaned into the box with a syringe and jabbed another dose of drugs into his vein. The lid closed and he was drowned in darkness again. His bindings felt slick with blood, the smell of blood and sweat reached his sensitive noise. Before panic could take over, he felt his body relax and he was once again sucked into a dreamless void.

Tulum Mexico Arrival Monday Day 4

Tuesday 7:00 am Day 4

Bobby awakened in a much larger room. Like before nausea and dizziness consumed him, he rolled to his side he began to dry heave. He rolled on to his back and stared at the ceiling, fighting the nausea. The ceiling proved most uncooperative as it spun, disregarding his current condition. He closed his eyes, denying the ceiling an opportunity to make him sick again. He fell into a fitful sleep.

Tuesday 1:00 pm Day 4

Bobby woke to the opening of the door. He managed to fake unconsciousness and kept his eyes closed. Footsteps approached him and a foot lightly rolled him over.

"Oh, dear, Bobby, you are such a wreck." The voice did not belong to Jesus, but it was familiar. Bobby received a powerful kick to the ribs. He groaned not anticipating the attack, but kept his eyes closed.

"Jesus, get the men in here and clean up this mess! Remember leave his face untouched. Bobby, I do hope you enjoy your new room!" The footsteps retreated through the door as new ones approached.

Tuesday 1:05 pm Day 4

Bobby was hauled up to his feet. For the first time he got a good look at this new room. It was constructed of concrete with one steel door like before and that is where the similarities ended. In the middle of the large room was a floor drain. Suspended above the drain was a bar with a metal ring dangling from each end. A chain, threaded through a pulley attached to the ceiling, suspended the bar. The other end of the chain was attached to a winch on the wall. Six feet away a twin system existed and its winch mounted next to the other.

Along one wall was a large stainless steel tub and sink. Stainless steel cabinets lined the wall above and below the sink. Next to the sink and tub was a large stainless steel table with restraints welded in place. In a corner was a stainless steel chair with welded restraints. On another wall a large mirror hung.

Adrenalin surged through Bobby's veins and he swung his shoulders around to loosen the grip of the men holding him. He over powered one man and threw him into the other man. While they tried to disentangle Bobby went after the third man landing a powerful left to his jaw, dropping the guy with one punch. Before he could turn, he felt sharp jab to his kidneys. Bobby returned the punch with an elbow to the man's ribs. The man fell to the floor holding his ribs. Without stopping, Bobby lashed out at the last man standing. They fought blow for blow, finally Bobby dropped him with a knee to the groin. Bobby checked the men quickly, but found no weapons.

He turned and ran through the door and stopped dead in his tracks facing Jesus with ten more men. Determined to die rather than spend one hour in that room Bobby charged the men head on. He took down another man before he was over powered, punched and kicked then dragged back into the room, his room.

The men stripped him of his clothing and placed handcuffs on each hand. Bobby's right hand was swollen from the brawl; the men made sure the cuff was nice and tight. The other ends of the handcuffs were latched to the metal rings on the bar. His feet were spread and shackled to the rings on the floor. Jesus flipped on the winch until the bar lifted Bobby high enough that his feet were no longer flat on the floor. All the men left the room, leaving the door open.

Jesus returned with a fire hose. "It is time for your shower, detective."

He opened the valve on the front of the fire hose and hit Bobby with a continuous hard blast of water until he started choking and gagging from the water shooting up his nose.

Jesus turned the water off and set the hose down and left the room.

His chest heaving in and out, Bobby was finally able to grasp a breath of air. The water was not so great for all of his new bruises, cuts and scrapes. Little rivers of pink cascaded down his body. He stood on his toes, trying to give his wrists a rest from bearing all his weight during the shower. His right wrist was worse; Bobby was sure it was broken.

Jesus returned to the room with a bucket of suds and a small step stool. He gently cleaned Bobby from head to toe with warm soapy water. Bobby was too tired and hurting to worry about his own modesty. After Jesus finished, he moved the bucket and step stool back into the hall. Again he blasted Bobby with the fire hose until both Bobby and the room were clean and clear of soap suds.

With the final phase o f the shower, Jesus gently toweled Bobby dry. Stepping back, Jesus drew in a deep breath blew out a coyote whistle. "Well, detective, you look nice enough to please your host."

Jesus walked over to the winch and lowered the bar a bit so Bobby could easily rest his weight on his feet. Jesus approached Bobby and whispered in his ear, "Sweet dreams, detective."

He left the room and closed the door and the lights went out.

Bobby stood there, thinking about his waking nightmare. His host's voice was familiar, yet he couldn't place it. He went through the catalog in his head of faces and voices of the men he busted in narcotics. Finally, the voice had a name and face, Ernesto Suarez. He was the head of a drug cartel in the Mexican state of Quintana Roo based in Cancun. Ernesto Suarez the drug lord of the Mayan Riviera.

He was born in Mexico and grew up on the streets of New York when his parents illegally settled in the city. Both parents died in a gang shooting meant to take out Suarez at fourteen. He moved back to Mexico to live with relatives. Taking what he learned in New York, he built a drug industry in the sleepy villages and tourist towns along the Mayan Riviera. Over the years he built the largest drug cartels with his connections to New York gangs. His business thrived for twenty years before he met Bobby.

Suarez got caught up in a drug raid that broke the Cancun-New York connection. Typically Suarez never traveled to New York and it was pure luck that Bobby nicked him along with his New York dealers.

How did Suarez get out of jail? He either found the right powerful person in Mexico to bribe for extradition or he escaped. Either way Bobby was in deep trouble and probably somewhere in the state of Quintana Roo, thousands of miles from New York and any help.

As the hours passed, Bobby shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to relieve the pain and cramping. Eventually, the pain and exhaustion got to Bobby. He rested his head against his arm and fell into a fitful sleep.

The door opened, waking Bobby from his light sleep. The room was still dark; the only light was spilling in from the open door. "Too bad for you, your host be back soon, detective."

Jesus closed the door. Bobby shivered and groaned at the thought.

A few minutes later, the room lit up and the door opened. Ernesto Suarez swaggered in, followed by Jesus and several men. Suarez walked up to Bobby and lightly touched his face. Suarez was a little over six feet tall and powerfully built. He had the look of someone who took care of his body. Bobby knew him to be in his late forties, but Suarez looked younger than his years.

Bobby stared back into the man's dark eyes. Suarez stepped back and looked Bobby up and down.

"My, Bobby, you are a handsome man. It will be wonderful to have you as my guest. I would like to share with you some of the simple pleasures I acquired in prison. I found that sadistic games can make the time pass pleasantly and quickly. Since leaving prison, I have applied my new hobby to my enemies and those who steal from me. The number of my enemies has rapidly diminished with the rumor of my special rooms."

Suarez stepped over to the winch and adjusted the bar so that Bobby had to stand on his toes to keep his weight off his wrists. Jesus handed him a flagrum.

"Bobby, do you know what a flagrum is?"

Bobby ignored the question and stared angrily into Suarez's eyes.

"The flagrum was designed by the Romans to tear the flesh from a man's body. The flagrum is much more deadly than the cat-of-nine tails. Since I would like to play with you a while, I do not wish for an untimely death. I have removed the iron hooks and have embedded lead weights for my amusement."

Suarez walked around Bobby, swinging the flagrum. As he approached Bobby's back, he reached out. Slowly and lightly, he caressed Bobby's back, his hand resting on his butt. Bobby's body tensed from the unwanted attention.

"Such a fine derrière, it would be a crime to mark it. However, I am a criminal."

With that Suarez lashed Bobby's back with the flagrum. Bobby's body flew forward and his knees buckled. Swinging by his wrists, now bloody from the handcuffs biting into his damaged skin, he grimaced and regained his standing position. On the second lash, Bobby was better prepared to maintain his ground and his back arched as the blow landed. Not a sound escaped his lips, but the pain could not escape his face. Bobby maintained for the next ten lashes. With the thirteenth lashing he lost his footing. On the fourteenth lashing his wrists were severely strained from his weight. On the fifteenth lashing he fell into blissful unconsciousness.

Suarez looked lovingly at Bobby's bleeding back. "He lasted fifteen lashings and never cried out. I am going to enjoy this very much. Jesus, please clean the wounds on his back. We don't want any infections."

Jesus carried out his boss's orders and when finished he dropped the bar low enough for Bobby to stand when he regained consciousness.