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Vanished

Chapter 4

Slowly Joe became aware of voices and a pulling sensation on his wrists. He shivered and tried to wrap his arms around himself for warmth, wondering why he was so cold. Unable to move his arms, he opened his eyes and turned his head to the right. A small knot formed in the pit of his stomach when he saw why he couldn't move - his right wrist was chained to a split rail fence. He quickly looked to his left and the world began to spin. He closed his eyes and waited a moment for the dizziness to pass, then opened them and slowly looked to his left. Seeing his left wrist also chained to the fence he shivered again, this time not just from the cold.

Looking down he saw he was wearing only his jeans. His jacket, shirt, shoes and socks had been removed. There was another chain around his ankles, securing him to the fence post. Looking up, he saw the night sky was ablaze with stars. The knot in his stomach got a little tighter. In order for that many stars to be visible to the naked eye, he had to be out in the middle of nowhere.

Several yards in front of him he saw two men, their backs to him, sitting in front of a campfire talking quietly, obviously unaware he had regained consciousness. Closing his eyes once again, he leaned his head back against the fence post trying to remember exactly how he gotten himself into this situation.

He remembered being at the airport in Chicago, waiting to board a flight back to Bayport. He had called Vanessa on his cell phone, to confirm his arrival time and then headed to the rest room just before they started boarding his flight. The restroom… an envelope had come flying at him from the next stall. He inhaled sharply, suddenly remembering everything. Unfortunately, this alerted the two men that he was now conscious as they turned around to look at him.

"Well, well, you decided to rejoin the land of the living." He recognized the red headed man who had held a gun to his chest in the men's room.

"Who are…" Joe began and immediately stopped speaking. Groaning in pain, he remembered the fist coming at him with the brass knuckles and wondered if his jaw was broken.

"Hurt to talk, does it? I'm so sorry about that," the man said. He stepped forward and slapped Joe hard across the face. Joe groaned once more, sagging against the chains that held him to the fence. "Now, all you have to do is tell us what you did with the envelope and you'll be free to go."

"Don't know…what envelope…" Joe said with great effort and was silenced with a kick to the stomach. Gasping, he doubled over as much as the chains holding him to the fence would allow.

The man grabbed him by the hair, yanking him up.

"Wrong answer. Now, the envelope and its contents belong to my associate and I. You, unfortunately, were the only other person in the restroom and were 'given' the envelope by mistake. All we want is the envelope returned to us, no questions asked, and you can be on the next flight back to…" he pulled Joe's airline ticket out of his pocket and looked it over. "…Bayport."

Joe stared at the man, who still had a hold of his hair, but said nothing. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that once these men had the information they wanted, he would be dead within minutes; his silence was the only thing that would keep him alive.

"We can't go back to our…supervisors…without that envelope. Right now, only you know where it is. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice," he finished, looking Joe in the eyes. When Joe remained silent, the man sighed heavily. "Just remember, this was your choice."

Releasing Joe's hair he stepped back and turned to his companion saying, "He's all yours."

Joe looked at the larger man and shivered inwardly at the muscles he could see bulging under the man's shirt. This was the man who had initially let Joe pass when he tried to leave the restroom. He swallowed hard remembering the man's forearm wrapped around his neck, cutting off his air supply. Warily, Joe watched as the man stood eyeing him, as if sizing him up for a fight. Nodding to himself, the big man reached down into the campfire and pulled out a piece of wood, flames dancing off the end of it.

He casually walked up to Joe, stopping directly in front of him. "Where is it?" he asked simply, no inflection in his voice what so ever.

Clamping his mouth shut, Joe said nothing. Wordlessly, the big man reached out with the burning piece of wood. Joe knew he could not escape yet he instinctively tried to pull away as the flame got close to his skin. Feeling the heat on his arm, Joe yanked on the chain holding him to the fence and cried out in pain when the flame burned his skin. It wasn't until the smell of burning flesh started to make him nauseous that the flaming piece of wood was finally pulled away.

"Where?" the man asked again in the same monotone.

Once again Joe remained silent and once again the burning flame resulted in the night air echoing with his cries of pain. Several minutes later, when Joe's arm was raw and blistering and his throat was sore from the screams he could not contain, the man stepped away and threw the piece of wood back on to the fire. He once again stood, studying Joe.

Watching the man watching him, Joe began to shiver. The temperature had dropped dramatically when the sun went down but that was not the sole reason he had begun to tremble. He recognized the look in the man's eyes. It was apparent the man was good at extracting information from people who were unwilling to talk and he obviously enjoyed his work immensely. It also became clear to Joe why they were out in the middle of nowhere; his captors could torture him freely without worrying that his screaming would draw unwanted attention.

Joe shivered once again, realizing this man could easily beat him to death trying to get information out of him that he had no intention of revealing. Joe leaned his head back against the fence, trying to block out the throbbing pain in his arm. He had no idea where he was or how long he'd been there.

A sudden blinding flash of light caused Joe to blink rapidly. He heard a whirring sound and a loud, crisp "snap." The noises sounded vaguely familiar and Joe tried to place them as his eyes readjusted to the darkness. A moment later something was thrust in front of his face, illuminated by a flashlight.

Joe's stomach tightened as he gazed at a picture of himself taken just moments earlier, pain evident on his face. The muscular man produced two more photos of Joe, crying out as the flames from the burning wood danced over his arm. He hadn't even realized they had been taken.

"You're about to become part of my resume. I like to capture all my work on film," the man smiled proudly. "And it's always a nice memento for the family."

Joe prayed Frank had gotten his message by now and found the envelope. He hoped his brother was able to find some kind of clue as to where he'd been taken. Joe was becoming uneasy at what was in store for him at the hands of someone who so obviously enjoyed inflicting pain on others. As Joe contemplated what kind of horrors the night held in store for him, his brother's voice echoed in his head.

"I'll always be there for you, Joe. Always."

Clinging to those words, Joe gazed up at the stars that lit up the dark night sky. All he had to do was remain silent until Frank arrived with help. It had seemed so simple at first. Joe winced as the raw pain in his arm grew with each passing second and realized that this was going to be much more difficult than he had originally anticipated.

'Come on, bro. Where are you?'