Chapter 4

Seeing Cal in so much pain was just as much torture for Foster as it was for him. He was sitting in the chair, hunched over and breathing heavily. She wanted to get her hands on the man who had put him through this. It was strange. The man didn't seem to want anything from Cal, except to cause him pain. She'd never seen anything like it. But maybe the demands would come later.

They were all silent for a moment. There wasn't really much that they could say. No words of solace would help. There was nothing they could do to help their boss, as much as they wanted to run up to him and envelope him in comfort.

Emily, beside her, was in tears. "Dad," she sobbed.

Cal, weak but still coherent, looked up at her and smiled. "I'm alright, love. It's him you should be worried about. He's going to be dead meat when we get out of here."

Gillian could see that he didn't completely believe what he was saying. He was saying whatever it took to calm Emily's fears. What Gillian was trying to understand, was why, if these two men wanted Cal to pay for some past incarceration or bust, why had they taken the whole team? And his daughter? What did she have to do with anything? She just hoped that they weren't waiting their turn for the same treatment as Cal.

The next ten minutes they spent planning their strategy. There wasn't much they had to go on, except the fact that the one guy, Buff, as Cal appropriately named him, was about to pop. His anger was constantly about to boil over. But the question was, what would happen if they did play on his anger and frustration? Would they just be making it worse? Or could Cal actually get something out of him.

"We have to try," Cal insisted.

"Dad, no!" Emily exclaimed. "I can't let you do that!"

"Look, love. I don't want this any more than you. But if I can make this guy a bit more vulnerable, maybe I can get some information out of him."

"Cal, she has a point," Gillian cut in. "I mean you have no idea what they want. This could be a bad move for all of us, especially you."

"Does anyone have their cell phone?" Loker looked inquisitively around the team, startling them from their serious and complex conversation. "I mean was anyone actually searched? 'Cause I wasn't."

The team exchanged glances. Leave it to Loker to think of the most obvious solution that had slipped all of their minds. The eyes around the room said the same answer: no. And then they rested on Emily.

"Oh! I do!" she exclaimed.

Once a teenager, always a teenager.

The team smiled.

"Darling, do you think you could get the cell phone out? Much appreciated, love." Cal didn't fault her for having just now mentioned that she had her phone. After all, none of them had thought about it.

Emily's face fell. "Um, dad, my hands are kinda tied up. I don't think I can get it.

Torres, who was sitting right next to Emily, used her feet to scoot her chair over. "Which pocket?" she asked.

"Right."

Torres maneuvered her chair so that her left hand was directly next to Emily's right pocket. She could see it protruding slightly and tried to stretch her hand as much as the ropes would allow. It was no use. No matter how much she pulled and struggled against the rope, her hand didn't come anywhere close to the phone.

"It's no use," she sighed, settling herself back in her chair and blowing a strand of hair from her face. "I can't reach."

"Well there goes that idea," Cal resigned. "Time for Plan B."

"Plan B?" Emily asked.

"Hey!" Cal hollered towards the door. "Boy scouts! Mind coming in here a moment?"

"Um Cal," said Loker uncomfortably, shifting in his seat. "What's Plan B? Like, seriously?"

"'Ello! Anybody out there?" Cal called again. He began lifting up his chair with his feet and pounding it on the floor.

"Cal is that really a good idea? I mean shouldn't you think about this?" Foster urged him.

"No clue," Cal quipped. "And I did."

Cal continued banging on the floor and hollering for the kidnappers until several minutes later, the door opened and two figures emerged. And they didn't look happy.