Chapter 4

Olivia stopped breathing for one moment. Her heart skipped a beat. It is over. You're dead.

Now her heart beats were counted. Somehow her heart did not want to accept it. Instead of dealing with it started pounding more quickly.

Suddenly Olivia began to stir; she was almost able to move again, slowly, but anyways.

She had gotten a last chance. She manhandled her legs from the barrow, it was a weird feeling, like she was about 80 years old.

Now she pushed her self of the table.

But her feet were not able to support her body; they buckled in and Olivia smashed onto the ground.

The men turned around; staring at the woman who lay helpless on the floor.

Her eyes were pleading. But her voice remained strong:

"Don't. Please don't do that to me!"

Sam watched her, no mercy in his eyes.

"Get stared, now!"

" No, no, no, no, no, nooooo! Don't, don't. Get off. PLEASE!"

Olivia screamed and struggled weakly as the men grabbed her and placed her on the operation table again.

"Strap her down!"

She hadn't notice the belts before. The men tightened those belts around her body.

Now she wasn't able to move anymore.

Her screams and her pleadings still echoed through the OR.

"Sedate her!" Sam gave instructions to the men.

The man, called Thomson, came back with a syringe.

Olivia stared at him, her eyes wide with terror.

He caught her view and gave her a sad look, then he bend down and whispered into her ear.

"I'll be very careful."

Olivia did not believe him and shook her head desperately.

Then the syringe hit her vein and she felt the sedative injected into her system.

Her view became dizzy. Her body was tried. She knew that she had to stay awake. She must not close her eyes. The room became darker.

And the last thing Olivia Dunham saw was the unfamiliar face of a man.

*FRINGE*

Peter was drunk. He hadn't slept in days and was not about to.

He locked at his watch, it was 3:30 in the morning, and the bar he spend the night in was about to close. Damn!

He still could not forget the face from Olivia; there in the garden of this good damn house.

He knew he should have seen that it was not his Olivia. Peter winced at the thought; his Olivia; it was probably never going to be his Olivia again.

He was a bastard; he did not deserve anything better. The whole weekend he did not do anything else than drinking and spending his time in shady bars.

What he hell was he doing? Instead of getting drunk he should better fight for the woman he loved. And if she was not willing to take him back, he could at least die with the thought that he tried.

Peter knew that his state of mind was kind of insane, but he was drunk enough to make a try.

He had nothing to loose anyways.

It was raining outside. Well that exactly reflected his mood. He did not bother to get an umbrella; Peter stepped out of the bar and made his way to Olivias house by foot.

It took him about an hour to get there. He was soaking wet, and still had problems to go straight.

Peter thought it would be helpful to think of words he might say; to express his feelings.

But he was not able to.

He finally arrived at Olivias apartment. If he hadn't been drunk he'd probably waited till it was a better time. Everyone seemed to be asleep at 5 am.

However he entered the house and made his way to Olivias front door.

Peter knocked and waited for Olivia to open the door.

He spent five minutes waiting and knocked again. Nothing.

Now Peter touched the doorknob and tried to push the door open. To his astonishment it worked. He was started for a few seconds, then he entered Olivias apartment.

"Olivia?"

No answer.

"Hello? Anyone at home?"

Silence.

Confused he looked around. Something was wrong.

A chair in the kitchen lay on the floor. Olivias FBI badge lay on the coffe table.

Peter went on through the flat, Olivias gun lay on the self in her bedroom.

Something was wrong. She was an great FBI agent, she'd never leave the house without her stuff. And Peter doubted that she went out to drink something, because a glass of cognac stood almost untouched on the table too.

Those things did not seem Olivia like. At least she would have looked the door. And why is the chair lying on the floor?

He took his mobile and dialled Olivias number. After a few seconds he heared something ringing. Peter followed the noise, it came out of the bedroom.

And on her bed lay her mobile.

Even under his conditions Peter knew that something must have happened.

He took this mobile again and dialled the number of Broyles.

After a minute or so, Broyles answered his phone.

"Broyles." he sounded sleepy.

"It's Peter Bishop"

"What is wrong, why are you calling at 5 am?"

"I guess something happened to Olivia?"

"Agent Dunham? What is wrong?"

"I am in her apartment, it is empty. Her gun and her badge are still here and chair is knocked over."

"Bishop, did you have the idea that she is out with someone?"

"Well her door wasn't locked, her mobile is here and going out at this time seems a bit strange."

"Ok, I'll come by and have a look myself."

45 minutes later Phillip Broyles entered Olivias apartment.

"Bishop?"

"Here?" Peter called back.

Phillip Broyles examined the apartment. He too came to the conclusion that something must have happened.

"Have you seen Dunham the last days?"

"On Friday; the last time. She was quite upset. We talked about what happened and she was angry at me, because I didn't see that it was not her."

"Well, we have Monday today. It is cold here, so let's assume she is gone since Friday night.

The knocked down chair looks like here was a fight."

Broyles bend down and looked at the chair carefully.

"Look at these indentions. It seems like handcuffs were attached here."

"You're right; and look at that I guess it is blood."

"Something has happened here." both remained silent for a few seconds.

"I'll call my agents, we have to assume that she was kidnapped. In the worst case she is missing since Friday night. I'll also call the crime scene investigation; they shall turn this house upside down."

"I can't wait. If Olivia is really missing for two days, she might be anywhere. Or maybe –"

"Stop. Before we make speculations we are going to ask her neighbours if they have noticed anything weird."

Peter just nodded; he tried hard to calm himself down. The alcohol was almost abandoned out of his system, no adrenaline has taken its place. No one needed him to panic right now.

He had to save Olivia.

*FRINGE*

"Good. She is unconscious, we can start."

"What are you going to do?"

"I am not sure, yet. Can you pass me that scissors?"

"Here."

"Thank you. I guess first I'll free the spot form her hair."

"Ah, well I see you have everything under control."

With those words Sam left the OR.

"Damn it. I don't want to be a murderer. Not even for 20 grants."

"Calm down, Smith. We won't kill her. The chip is under her scalp and not in her brain. We just cut it out and expose her."

"See, she can't survive on her own. She hasn't eaten in three days. She got tortured –"

"Common, shut up. If you don't want to help, then leave and we'll share your money."

The guy named Smith remained silent, and observed the other two.

"Beckett, look on the table; is there any knife, or something that looks like it was created to cut? Smith; you take those cloths there. I suppose it is going to bleed and you just wipe away the blood."

Both men nodded and did what they were told. Beckett found a scalp which looked perfect for the task. Meanwhile Thomson studied the X-Rays and cut the spot were the chip is hidden free from Olivias blond and now messy hair.

Beckett handed him the scalp, he hesitated for a few seconds. He was afraid to destroy the chip and kill that woman.

Slowly and very carefully he made a cut from about 3 inch. Immediately Smith started to wipe away all the blood that was streaming out.

"Do you see anything?" Beckett asked; he sounded nervous.

"Not yet, can you give me a kind of tweezers, or something similar. I guess I see it."

"Thanks. Here we go."

Thomson slowly pulled out a flat, round and bloody chip out of Olivias head.

Their relief was almost touchable.

"God, you did it, and she is still alive. Respect bro."

"Thank you. Smith can you clean this up and bring it to Sam? Well, I guess we just leave it like this; I am not sure whether I am able to fix this. It'll probably cause more damage than good."

Smith was only halfway though the OR as the doors burst open and Sam walked in.

"Are you already done?"

"Yes, Sir. Here is the chip."

"Perfect work, guys. I'll honour that. No expose her. Just load her in the SUV and throw her in some back road far away from here".

"But, Sir, she'll die."

"That isn't our problem."

Sam left the OR again; this time with the chip. The men stood there motionless regarding the unconscious woman.

"Let's drop her in front of a hospital."

"You're insane? If Sam gets to know that we didn't obey his orders we are dead."

"She is when we do!"

"I need the money. You are free to leave but I take your money!"

Smith remained silent and stared at his workmates.

"Right guys; I am out. We already broke the law for him a thousand times. But I don't want to be responsible for her death. You don't know what it is like to loose someone.

She might have a husband or children. "

Smith left the OR. He didn't want to get in any more trouble. He was not responsible for this anymore.

Beckett and Thompson locked at each other. Beckett began to smile. "Don't mind. So there is more money for us."

Thompson nodded and both grabbed Olivia and carried her roughly out of the OR.

They didn't really pay attention and suddenly Olivias dangling head smashed against the door. Now blood cascaded down on the floor. The men didn't mind at all.

"I won't clean the SUV afterwards. I hate the smell of blood."

"We could sell it to some movie industry."

Both burst out into laughter.

*FRINGE*

They had decided that they would drop the woman somewhere in Boston. That city was very huge therefore she might have a little chance that someone was going to find her, if she was still alive. They didn't check on her.

It was already past midnight, and they drove for a few hours.

Finally they found a good, almost invisible road. Beckett stopped the SUV, and they stepped out. Actually they were quite surprised that the woman was still alive.

"She is strong:" Beckett admitted.

Both grabbed roughly her arms and her legs. Then they dumped the weak, vulnerable, bloody and dying woman carelessly in the abandoned street.

They got back into the SUV and set of, not even locking back.

*FRINGE*

Peter was running up and down the hallway of the FBI building. About 50 agents and cops were searching for Olivia. But if she was missing for almost four days; Peter doubted that Liv was still alive. This thought was killing him. If she was dead, she died knowing that he betrayed her.

He was aware that he never told "her" how much he loved her and how much he cared for her.

Suddenly Astrid appeared.

"Were is Walter?" he sounded rough but he did not care.

"He is in the visitors habitable room; investigating the percolator."

"Yeah, funny." he was about to scream at her, he couldn't deal with his feelings anymore.

But Astrid always had a good sense of human emotions.

She took his arm. "Peter, we are all worried. But you don't help us if you're furious.

"I know."

Peter answered and was about to say anything mean, but he knew that Astrid was right.

"But what can I do?"

"Let's go into her office. Maybe there is any clue; and lets thing about any possible thing that happened to her. That is as helpful as those other entire things. Broyles has occasioned that there will be a picture of her in any news. The first will be broadcasted at 5 am."

Peter nodded.

"I'll never forgive me if something has happened to her. The last thing she told me was why I didn't see that it was not her. And I can't do anything to make it less painful. I failed and now –"

"Peter. We will find Olivia. And everything will be alright. She cared so much about you that she went to the other side to save you. Olivia is hurt, but that doesn't mean that there are no feelings left. No, the contrary of love is not hate, it is indifference. I promise you that that is not the way she feels."

Astrids eyes locked sad, and Peter turned around. He did not want Astrid to see the tear that ran down his cheek.