HIGH STAKES
Chapter Four
Time was passing far too quickly, and neither of his friends had reappeared. Nor were they answering their cell phones. Danny began to feel distinctly edgy. "Time to call it in," he decided, bleakly. He didn't want to get the lab rat into any trouble, but what else could he do?
At that moment, Sanchez stuck her head around the door.
"Hey - you seen Detective Flack? I've done my rounds and I'm headed back to the station."
"Nah," said Danny, "sorry. He's not here."
"Still looking for the CSI guy, huh?" Sanchez frowned. "How'd you come to lose him, anyway?"
"He's kinda new at this. And apparently, much more intrepid than I gave him credit for. You know which way they went?"
"Stairs," said Sanchez briefly. "Both of them. First one, then the other. Never saw either of them after that." She tilted her head quizzically. "You want I should go look for them?"
"No way. The last thing I need is to lose you too." Danny sighed. "Can you stick around, at least 'til the M.E. gets here? 'Cos I think I'm gonna need someone to scrape me off the floor when I've explained this to my boss."
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"I hope you like games," said the stranger. "This one's all yours. I'm going to call it 'Obedience Training'. How does that sound?"
Flack glared at him in disgust. The situation was rapidly spiralling out of control. Trying to hang on to the illusion that he had any kind of leverage left, the detective aimed his weapon directly at the stranger's heart. But out of the corner of his eye, he could still see Ross shuddering on his knees as he gasped for breath. It didn't take much guesswork to imagine what he'd been through already. After that first, panicked look, the lab rat had lowered his head in shame, consumed by the knowledge that this was all his fault.
Poor guy, thought Flack. The blood around the stranger's nose and mouth intrigued him. Did Adam really do that? A memory sprang into his mind, of another rooftop, and another fight - only, that time, the lab rat had won. Clearly this man was a far more dangerous foe.
"Round one," continued the stranger, ignoring Flack's angry silence. "You give me a present. Your gun. Your badge. Your cell phone and your radio."
"And if I don't?" Flack asked him wearily, though he already knew the answer.
"Then your friend here pays the forfeit. Simple, really." The man gave a feral smile. "Rather like you. Now, what's it to be?"
Don stole another look at Adam. The lab rat was shaking his head imperceptibly - but the detective knew that he had run out of chances. Lowering his gun, he set it down and kicked it across the rooftop, just out of reach. Go fetch it yourself, he thought bitterly. But the man only laughed.
"Feisty," he said. "Still, I wouldn't advise you to try that again. And the rest of my present?"
As slowly as he dared, Don unhooked his badge from around his neck and tossed it over to the stranger, who caught it in mid-air with his free hand. Flipping it open, he studied it casually. "Detective Donald Flack. How do you do, Detective Flack? My name's Bob. I'm sure you're pleased to meet me. Now the radio."
Flack pulled both his cell phone and his radio out of his jacket. With a wrench, he bent down and slid them over to Bob. Instead of picking the phone up, the stranger slammed his foot down on top of it, hard, destroying it instantly. Flack winced. The radio, however, was a different prize. Clearly, Bob intended to hang on to it. He's going to negotiate, guessed the detective. But the game wasn't over yet, and Bob stepped closer to Adam.
"Round two," he said quietly. "Find a way to lock the door."
Flack blinked in dismay. "You're joking, right?"
Bob grabbed Adam by the hair and forced his head back until the lab rat's frightened eyes were revealed. "Maybe I wasn't clear enough. Find a way to lock the door, or I'm going to break his nose."
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"He did what?"
Danny moved the phone away from his ear but it didn't make any difference. Mac's angry voice came through loud and clear. Even Sanchez could hear it, and she gave the detective a sympathetic grin before wandering across to the window and pretending to study the view.
"He left to follow an evidence trail."
"Without telling you first?"
"Look, Mac, don't be too hard on him. I think he was just trying to be more independent. You know, show us all what he can do. The fault's mine, okay? I should have been watching him more closely. Laid down a few ground rules. Locked the door..," sighed Danny, trying to inject some humour into a desperate situation. The joke fell flat, as Mac considered Danny's garbled explanation.
"And you say that Don went after him? How long ago was that?"
"About twenty minutes. They were both seen heading to the stairs. Beyond that, we have no idea where they might be."
Mac's voice was tight with frustration. "I'm coming over. Stay put. And let me know if they come back before I get there."
"Will do, boss."
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Slamming the phone down, Mac grabbed his jacket and headed out of his office. Knowing that his instincts had been right didn't make him feel any better. Adam was a gifted lab tech, but far too intelligent for his own good sometimes. Clearly, this was one of those times - and the very thing that Mac had been afraid of. It never ceased to amaze him how someone so brilliant could also be so clueless. And yet...
And yet, deep down, he was fond of the scientist and his quirky ways. The thought that Adam could be in serious trouble began to over-ride his fury. By the time he reached the elevator, Mac had conquered his temper, but his gut was beginning to churn. The doors opened, and Jo stepped out. She smiled at first, but then she stopped and took a good look at his face.
"Trouble?" she guessed. Mac nodded.
"Adam's missing. I sent him out with Danny, and he wandered off on his own. Apparently, Don went after him - and now they've both disappeared."
"Then I'm coming to help you," said Jo, stepping back into the elevator and pulling him with her, as the doors slid shut once more.
"Thanks." Mac wrestled his arms into the sleeves of his jacket, which had suddenly become very uncooperative. The dark-haired woman watched him quietly.
"You're worried," she observed.
Straightening himself out at last, Mac glared at her.
"Of course I am. It's Adam. Anything could have happened."
Jo gave a tiny laugh. "That's true. But, you know, he's not incapable."
"I know that." The elevator reached the ground floor, and they stepped out into the lobby. "He's just..."
"Adam," they both sighed, together.
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Flack hated turning his back on such a dangerous situation, but Bob was adamant and he left the detective in no doubt that he would carry out his threat. The desire for payback gleamed in his eyes even as the blood dried on his face.
Adam watched him go with some trepidation, not really certain that he was safe whilst Flack was gone. Keeping his head up, he turned to stare at the man who was holding him hostage. "So - what now?" he ventured, forcing the words out through his aching throat.
"Now I take your phone," Bob said, holding out his hand.
"I don't have one," Adam lied, on the spur of the moment. He tried to make his blue eyes look as innocent as possible. Bob frowned, unconvinced.
"That's ridiculous. Everyone has a phone these days. Especially a geek like you."
"Oh... ah, yes, of course I have a phone," the lab tech spluttered, wondering why he was taking such a desperate gamble. "But I left it in my kit, okay, down at the crime scene, so I haven't got it with me..."
"Shall I check?"
"Go ahead," breathed Adam. Bob crouched down once more and used the barrel of his gun to shove Adam's vest to one side.
"Damn - how many pockets do you have?" the man growled angrily.
"I - I need to carry a lot of stuff. I'm sorry." The lab rat winced, feeling oddly violated as Bob's other hand crept in and out of his clothing, searching for proof that Adam was a liar. What he knew, and Bob did not, was that sometimes he kept his phone tucked inside his sock. And today was one of those days. In his eagerness to bring along everything he needed to the crime scene, Adam had stuffed not only his case but also his pockets with all the kit that he could find. As a result, there was no room left for his cell phone - and so into his sock it went. Watching the growing pile of rubble that Bob threw onto the rooftop, Adam resisted a wild urge to smile triumphantly.
"All right. I give in. You do carry too much stuff. And it's all crap." Bob rifled through the pile. "Except for this. I do like this."
Oh, that's just great, thought Adam in disbelief, watching the other man lift up a silver penknife. He flicked out the blade and smiled at it gleefully. Adam shivered. Couldn't put that one in your case, could you? Had to be in your pocket...
"Want to play?" asked Bob.
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Round the corner, Don was having problems of his own. Full of doubt, he leaned against the wooden planks and wrestled with his conscience.
As far as he could tell, he had two choices and only a couple of minutes to decide. Choice one - do as Bob asked and find a way to block the access door. Choice two (and this one he hated) - call the man's bluff and run for help, back down the stairs to Danny. Clearly, help was what they needed most. But abandoning Ross to that maniac? Don just couldn't stomach it. And so, in the end, his choice was made by his own damn loyalty. He would lock the door, and trust that their friends would find them.
Which led to his next problem. How was he supposed to lock the door? No doubt the building super had a key which would reopen it instantly, and the only bolt was on the other side. Would slamming it shut be enough to save Adam? Or should he block it with something too? Would Bob even check that he'd done the job properly?
Of course he'll check, you idiot, Don thought wrily. He's a perp, and you're a cop. He's not going to trust a single thing you do.
Scouting around for something heavy, he noticed an old cast iron plant pot, full of soil and shrivelled stalks. That looked as though it would just about do the trick and so he dragged it across the roof. It certainly seemed to weigh a ton. Standing up for a moment, he massaged his aching back. Then, making sure the door was firmly closed, he hefted the plant pot in front of it. Nothing short of an axe would get through now. Don shook his head. I can't believe I just did that.
Too late for regrets. Not wanting to leave Adam alone for one more minute with the suspect, Don ran back across the roof and skidded around the corner.
Bob had been busy in the meantime. Kneeling in front of the lab rat, he was slowly twisting a knife up the length of his shirt. A growing pile of buttons lay beside him. He had almost reached the top, and Adam was sweating.
"You're back," said the man, with cool regret. "What a pity. Your friend and I had a little side bet going. He thought you'd be back before I ran out of buttons. I wasn't so sure. Looks like you've saved his neck..."
A sick feeling settled in the pit of Flack's stomach.
Right choice, he sighed - but then, why did he feel so guilty?
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A/N: No cliffhanger this time, but I hope it was still exciting!
Thanks, as always, for reviewing and following this story - you make my day.
Next update coming soon...