"...Boy, that rain is coming down hard. Does it always rain like that in this city, Doctor...?"
"Hackwrench, son. My name is Doctor Gerry Hackwrench, but friends call me Geegaw and I don't know why...and yes, it does rain a lot here in the summer time..."
"...I'm Dale De La Hoya, Chip's brother...I know we don't look much alike, but..."
Feeling warmth underneath his body, Chip tried to move his hand to grab his pain medication, but he found that his hands were bound. Panic filled him as he wondered if he was back in Fat Cat's lair, being tortured not long before Donna and the children had been killed in the accident. Why was he tied up?
Alarms blared and the more Chip struggled, the more he felt resistance, "Chip!" he suddenly heard a yell that sounded very much like Dale. "Chip, please! Stop struggling or you'll end up ripping your stitches!"
Shaking violently, Chip forced his eyes open and was deeply confused about where he was until he saw Dale standing alongside Dr. Hackwrench, who was wearing scrubs, "W-where am I?" Chip gasped.
"Take it easy, Detective," Dr. Hackwrench said calmly. "You had emergency surgery for appendicitis."
Chip nodded and eyed the restraints around his hands, "What are these?" he asked anxiously.
"Since you're awake, they're unnecessary now," Dr. Hackwrench replied calmly, swiftly removing the restraints and throwing them in the laundry basket. "Your appendix burst, so I had to remove it, okay?"
Chip nodded, but didn't say anything because he was beginning to feel drowsy, "Chip, why don't you get some rest?" Dr. Hackwrench spoke up gently, seeing that Chip was drifting off. "I'll check on you later."
Nodding, Chip silently closed his eyes and Dale suddenly looked very concerned, "Dale, if you'd like to follow me out into the hall for a moment?" Dr. Hackwrench asked in an unusually anxious voice.
Deeply confused, Dale silently followed Dr. Hackwrench outside, "What's going on?" Dale asked softly.
"What I'm about to tell you is very serious," Dr. Hackwrench replied quietly. "I'm assuming you know about the car accident your brother was in, but what you don't know is why it happened."
Having seen the framed articles at Chip's house right before Chip had gotten sick, Dale nodded, "There are some very notorious gangsters in this city, the worst one being this guy named Fat Cat who has many, many henchmen that give the police a lot of trouble," Dr. Hackwrench explained softly. "Not long before the accident, Chip was held hostage and tortured by one of Fat Cat's henchmen, a guy named Nimnul. Fortunately, the police found out and rescued Chip while Nimnul went to a mental hospital."
"What?" Dale asked in an astonished voice, his eyes widening in shock. "I didn't know that..."
Dr. Hackwrench sighed, but said nothing, "Chip and I went our separate ways after high school because we had been put in foster care by then and it was very hard on both of us," Dale explained in a somber voice. "Chip invested himself in helping others and I went off across the world and got degrees..."
"Doctor Hackwrench, please report to the lounge," an automated voice suddenly spoke.
Dr. Hackwrench scoffed, "I'll check on Chip a little later," he replied calmly. "Just keep him calm."
Deeply mystified as to what Chip had gone through since they had separated to make their own ways in the world, Dale silently returned to the room and was surprised to see Chip awake and silently staring out the window, "I thought you were sleeping?" Dale asked in a concerned voice. "Are you okay?"
"I'm just feeling very weak," Chip replied softly. "I'm still recovering from the car accident and I had just left the hospital a couple of days ago even though Doctor Hackwrench wanted me to stay for another week to make sure my body was healing properly. I was in a coma for two weeks and I spent another week on a ventilator because I couldn't breathe well on my own. When the tube was out, I was done."
Dale's eyes widened in horror, "Foxy and Detective Jack both begged me to stay and take my time, but I couldn't," Chip explained softly. "The media were constantly breaking in here and bothering me with questions once I could breathe on my own. I could barely move, but I couldn't take any more of it..."
Tears filled Chip's eyes and like he had done for many of his past colleagues and patients who had been under severe emotional distress at times, Dale planted himself on the edge of the bed after removing the rail, "Come here," he said in a gentle voice, sighing as Chip slowly scooted over. "I'll stay with you."
"Thank you," Chip replied softly, suddenly feeling woozy from sharing so much emotional baggage. "I think I'm actually going to go back to sleep for a little while, so please just make sure I have quiet..."
Dale nodded and gently took Chip's hand in his own, carefully drying tears on Chip's face as he slept.
The last thing that Dr. Hackwrench expected to see when he entered the staff lounge was his daughter, who most people knew as Gadget, sitting on the couch with her two children, Mark and Tammy, both of whom were wearing clothes that looked too big while Gadget was wearing a coat that covered her.
"Daddy, the divorce is final," Gadget explained softly. "Denver's in with those gangsters and he got very upset that I wouldn't stay with him so he would look good. He got very angry, so I left with the children."
Dr. Hackwrench nodded and immediately offered her his keys from his pocket, "Use whatever you need from my house and I'll be home after work," he replied calmly. "I'll check on you via my cell-phone."
"Mommy, I'm hungry," Mark whined as Gadget took the keys. "When are we gonna go eat?"
Gadget sighed as she stood up, "We're gonna be staying with Grandpa for a while," she replied softly.
Dr. Hackwrench smiled as Gadget hugged him and then prepared to take her kids to his large home.
The smell of liquor caused Detective Monterey Jack's nose to twinge as he walked down the street of the business district towards his small, but comfortable townhouse. During his shift, he had gotten a text from Chip's assistant that Chip was back in the hospital with appendicitis and had had some surgery and even though Monty had intended to visit, the workload had taken enough of his time and energy.
Curious about where such a strong smell would be coming from, Detective Jack followed the smell and was both surprised and confused to see a young man sitting in an alley wearing ragged clothing and taking swigs out of a very large bottle of vodka. The young man was trembling and muttering to himself.
"Hey there, young one," Detective Jack said in a worried voice. "Are you all right down there?"
Heavily drunk, Zipper squinted up at the overweight detective and scoffed, muttering in broken Russian as he took another swig from the bottle, "Go avay," he slurred. "I am of ze legal age in zees country."
Detective Jack eyed the young man curiously, "Are you a refugee or a citizen?" he asked softly.
"You can check my bag eef you vant to arrest me," Zipper said in a slurred voice. "Vant a dreenk?"
Detective Jack shook his head and gently pried the bottle out of Zipper's hand, "It's getting cold out here, son," he spoke gently, setting the liquor out of Zipper's reach. "Do you have any place to go?"
"I am not your son," Zipper slurred, glaring at him. "I vas born here to parents who died in ze attacks by ze Fat Cat and hees meenions. He made me vork for heem and just zrew me out here to die!"
Detective Jack silently reached down and hauled Zipper to his feet, "I think you're too young, drunk, and scared to be out here on your own, so I'm going to take you to my place for the night," he spoke softly.
"I could fight you," Zipper slurred as he felt his legs give out. "I am a wery good fighter, you know."
Detective Jack sighed and silently escorted Zipper down the street, relieved when Zipper didn't resist the walk to the townhouse. Silence filled the air as they went inside and Detective Jack locked the door.
Unable to walk a straight line, Zipper hung on to the older man for dear life as he was led into a very large bathroom that featured a showerhead and a spa tub, "Eez eet time for ze vaterboarding?" he slurred, eyeing the shower warily. "I am geeting really good at seemply letting zem geet on veeth eet."
Frowning, Detective Jack gently sat Zipper down on the edge of the tub against the wall and silently removed the ragged jacket and shirt Zipper was wearing, revealing massive bruises, pale skin, and gashes on his torso, back, arms, and chest that looked as if they had come from waterboarding.
"Just sit there, okay?" Detective Jack said softly as he hurried into his bedroom and quickly grabbed an unopened pair of boxer shorts from the bag of clothes he had bought yesterday as well as a t-shirt, hoodie, and sweats from his closet and drawers before returning to the bathroom. "You still awake?"
Zipper muttered something in Russian, but barely reacted when Detective Jack removed the rest of his clothes to find more injuries and signs of malnutrition. Sympathy filled Detective Jack and he silently dressed the young man in the clean clothes before lifting him up and guiding him to the guest bedroom he usually let his parents sleep in when they visited, "Just go to bed," he said, helping Zipper lie down.
"Eet eez so nice and varm een here," Zipper mumbled drunkenly as he went into a very deep sleep.
Detective Jack quietly tucked the young man in and then moved over to the bag left by the door, determined to see who this young man was. He took the bag over to his dining room table and opened it, finding a worn wallet, an unloaded gun, a pair of threadbare gloves, a small book filled with photos, a lethal looking knife in a sheath, a badly tattered jean jacket, a folder stuffed with various papers, a watch, a taser, brass knuckles, and an American passport that looked as if was well cared for.
Detective Jack opened the passport, shocked when he saw a photo of a healthy, but very unhappy, thin looking young man next to the name Pavel Federov Nikolayev and a birthday that said he was just 21. Much, much too young to be suffering like this. Detective Jack thought silently.
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