A/N: Here we go… chapter 2. Your reviews were so awesome guys. I haven't really posted on this site before and you all were so encouraging.
This chapter is in Kurt's POV - I think they will alternate as the chapters go on. Forgive me if the case seems awkward, I am not nearly as creative as the writers on Blindspot *sigh* but I live in hope
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Chapter 2
Bitter Realizations
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The paperwork was endless in his new role as the Assistant Director. For the millionth time since he took this position, Kurt wished for his old job back. Groaning, he popped his back and rolled his neck to loosen the tension. Kurt gazed blearily out of the clear walls of his office to spot his team. No one was in sight… well… except Jane, sitting quietly at her desk.
It's been weeks since Jane returned and Kurt could still hardly bear to look in her direction. Seeing her brought everything back… his father, Taylor's body, Mayfair's death, and Jane's lies. Kurt's lips curled back in anger and he looked back at his paperwork.
Taking a few deep breaths he brought his mind back around to what Borden had been saying in recent sessions. Deep down, Kurt supposed he knew that Jane wasn't malicious and that most of what happened wasn't in her control. Jane had thought she was Taylor and she had wanted to protect the team… him.
It was just so… hard to let those feelings go. And Jane was so… easy to blame. She even seemed to accept her role as scapegoat. Whenever Zapata or Reade baited her with snide comments and outright flaming insults she shrugged them off and stayed silent. They snubbed her, laughed at her and blamed her and she just… accepted it; sometimes she even apologized.
A small tendril of guilt niggled Kurt's brain, he knew he should intercede more on her behalf… but it would be hypocritical since he hadn't been treating her much better. He winced in recollection, Jane's eyes had been so painfully wide when she heard him call her Mayfair's killer… almost like he had slapped her across the face. Her face had twisted with agony and he had almost… NO! He was not going to be sucked in by her vulnerability again. If Jane had a real issue, then she would come to him or Naz and then they would deal with it.
Kurt glanced up at her again, she really had been taking too many dangerous risks lately… maybe he should talk to Borden about…
" HEY GUYS! I've got something!" Patterson called out gleefully as she made her way to the monitors outside his office. Then again, they had been solving cases amazingly fast, why fix what wasn't broken. Kurt dismissed his concerns and made his way out.
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Kurt looked out the window of the plane - it looked like his grandmother's old patchwork quilt. They were on their way to an abandoned ghost town in northern Indiana called Bedsford.
One of the geometric tattoos on Jane's shin matched a large crop circle found outside the town several years ago. No one claimed responsibility and the crop circle itself was probably a prank. The ghost town itself, however, was private, full of empty warehouses and had an overgrown runway. It was an ideal place to hide illegal activity.
Kurt glanced at his team - they had already put together a game plan and communicated with Patterson via their tablets. They were going to cautiously investigate the area to see if it was, indeed, tattoo related. Reade caught his eye before gesturing his head towards Jane.
Kurt looked over, Jane used to be a form of entertainment whenever they flew because she was so endearingly afraid of flying. Now she looked… vacant. Zapata and Reade had been periodically watching her throughout the whole flight — Jane was sitting cross-legged and silent in the farthest seat from the team and she was staring at nothing.
In his memories, Jane was always associated with action, seeing her so still and disengaged was disconcerting… so unlike her… Kurt had almost forgotten that she was even there. She hadn't said a word since they got on the plane. She hadn't even offered any ideas for their scouting mission. Then again, he supposed he couldn't really blame her... in the first few missions her input had been immediately and viciously discounted. Reade had even once accused her of leading them into a trap…
He rubbed the back of his neck guiltily. Kurt shrugged his shoulders at Reade before beginning to stretch his limbs. They needed to focus on the mission at hand, they were landing soon and he had a team counting on them. Jane just wasn't a priority right now.
The plane landed on the old runway and they swiftly disembarked. Reade was wearing heat sensing goggles and was searching for heat signatures hidden in the buildings.
"Weller," Reade whispered, "I've got a large group in that warehouse over there… and there…"
"Disengage." Kurt gestured for everyone to pull back and immediately radioed Patterson to get back in contact with the closest field office to bring a large force of armed back up as quickly as possible.
The team crept backwards but it was already too late… they had been focused towards the town and hadn't looked to the overgrown field and forest behind them. The group of Russian traffickers they had unknowingly stumbled upon, had been alerted to their presence as soon as their plane touched down.
They were outnumbered and surrounded within minutes.
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The team had been stripped of their weapons, bound, and manhandled through the warehouse into a large concrete room. Once the door slammed shut Weller turned and assessed everyone. "Everyone okay?"
Reade had a bleeding cut on his forehead, "I'm good, nothing serious."
Zapata looked a little worse for wear, "that guard was handsy, but I'm okay," her attention was on Jane.
Jane had been literally thrown into the cell by the guards after she savagely tackled the man who was searching Zapata a little too intimately for weapons. Her cheek was swollen but she hid it behind a curtain of hair and nodded, "I'm fine."
Weller reasserted control, "Okay, they will be back soon. We just have to stall them until backup arrives; it shouldn't be too long. What do we know about them?"
"This warehouse is full of crates, they must be transporting illegal goods," Reade offered.
"They speak Russian," Jane added.
"Traffickers," Zapata spat out, "Great…"
They heard footsteps and quickly shuffled together as the door was unlocked. A brutish, dark haired man lead three others into the room. "So FBI, it is time for a little talk" he snarled in heavily accented English. The hulking men ruthlessly used their rifles to herd the team into a line. They were chained to the wall with stiff shackles bolted into the cement.
The leader paced in front of the team. He gestured to their bound figures but spoke in Russian to his men. It looked like the traffickers were deciding what to do with them- and they looked entirely too pleased with their decision.
"You will tell us, how you found us." the leader began, "You will tell us who is the rat who sold us out and maybe we will kill you quickly — whoever speaks the truth may even live."
As the leader spoke a henchman strode up to Weller and slammed the butt of his rifled into his stomach. A gasp escaped his mouth but he remained stoic and faced forward. "We aren't telling you anything," he spat out.
Weller watched as the guard raised his gun again, the Russian's eyes glittered with anticipation as he prepared to strike violently at Weller's head. Kurt's eyes met the leader in silent battle. But the blow never landed - he looked over, Jane had begun to speak tauntingly in Russian. What the HELL was she doing?
The Traffickers focused on Jane. She had finished talking but her chin was jutted out stubbornly and her expression boldly stared down the leader. Kurt had no idea what she said, but it made the Russians furious. One of them grabbed her by the throat and flung her to the floor. Jane recovered quickly and laughed chokingly before speaking to the leader again; her tone was definitely, dangerously mocking.
Weller tried to step forward, "Jane, stop… JANE!" but one of the men shoved him back and pointed his gun at his face.
Two of the men grabbed Jane and unlocked her chains before stripping off her leather jacket. They tied her hands together with rope and attached them to a large hook hanging from the ceiling. Weller's stomach began to sink and he began to sweat. Nothing good can come from this. Oh God, backup better get here soon. "Jane, focus on us, it will be okay."
They cranked the hook until Jane dangled with her toes barely touching the floor. Kurt looked at his team. The leader and one other man began to circle her and cackle in Russian. They pulled her hair and ghosted their fingers along her face but she only glared at them before spitting out a final comment in Russian.
The leader snapped his fingers and one of the guards tore at her long-sleeve shirt until it fell to the floor in tatters. She still wore a sports bra - but she… Oh God, Jane! What happened to her?
The guards gaped at Jane's tattoos but the team couldn't tear their eyes away from Jane's exposed torso. Kurt could almost count all her ribs; she was muscle and little else — her stomach was so concave it made his chest ache.
Her emaciated form would have been bad enough but her body was also covered in large florid bruises - a rainbow of colours that flooded behind her tattoos. Weller heard Zapata swear in Spanish as she took in Jane's hanging form; Reade looked sick.
Kurt looked to Jane's face, searching for an answer, a clue as to how this happened but there was nothing. Her eyes met his and for a moment they glistened with emotion before they shuttered and became vacant. It was like the life had slipped from her body in a blink. His mouth felt like cotton.
The traffickers soon got over their shock and gleefully got into their task. Using lengths of chain and sticks they began to beat on Jane's defenceless body. As they struck they yelled questions at her in Russian but she remained silent — too silent for this kind of attack. Weller struggled helplessly - the shackles were too tight and blood ran freely down his fingers...
Jane let out the occasional grunt but she remained eerily detached from the violence descending on her person. He almost wept for joy when he heard the sound of helicopters that signalled that help had arrived.
The traffickers stopped their attack and began to swear. When their backs were turned, it was like a switch had been flipped in Jane - her body jack-knifed and her legs wrapped tightly around one of the guards shoulders; she jerked roughly and snapped his neck. Once he fell, she kicked another in the back of the head and he collapsed unconscious. The leader fled the room.
They were left in temporary silence. All Kurt could do — no — all the team could do, was stare, horrified, at Jane... as she dangled, helpless and abused, from the hook until help arrived.
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Yay, a little bit longer... and the angst continues...
