The following chapter gets a little more graphic, at least in comparison to what I normally write. If you are concerned or squeamish, you can by-pass the section in italics. A far less descriptive summary will be given in the synopsis note at the end of the chapter. If you have questions or concerns, feel free to contact me.
Taylor paced slowly. He circled, staying near the edges of the room, looking down at his prisoner. The space was cold and damp. Rotted boards let the wind whistle into the room and cracks in the ceiling allowed for puddles to form on the packed dirt floor. Light came only from a small back wall window most of the time, although during "questioning" a high wattage lantern cast long and eerie shadows.
He took a great deal of pleasure in seeing his prisoner in his current state. It was clear the man was in pain. Wasn't just the bullet in his leg, although that was certainly a good start. The injury had been tied off. At first, Ezra worried that the tourniquet was too tight and would cut off the circulation causing problems he didn't want to think about. But listening to Taylor's mad rants, he quickly became convinced the man had no intention of letting him die. He had far more interesting plans in mind, and that concern quickly overrode all others.
He was covered in cuts and bruises from being beaten and kicked. There was enough pain when he tried to take a deep breath to tell him he had cracked ribs. He didn't think any were broken – yet. When Taylor had tired of that sport, he was trussed to an old wooden chair, arms stretched out on the table in front of him, held securely in place by a length of rope attached to the far legs. His back ached from both the slightly bent over posture he was bound in and the belt strapping that had been given to him. Over the past 36 hours Taylor had made sure that Ezra knew exactly who was in charge. There had been little interrogation, but a great deal of pain inflicted.
"You don't have to continue to hide your identity. There's been enough news coverage of that little incident to fill me in on most of what I need to know. I should have guessed you were ATF. Obviously, it was the firearms that got you interested. After all this started with a gun deal. You would have been so better off if you hadn't let yourself get distracted, but then you moral types always feel the need to impose your standards."
Ezra knew he should keep his mouth shut. He knew full well with the consequences were whenever he spoke out of turn, but consequences had never stopped him before.
"Moral types? Not an accusation leveled at me on a regular basis." He wasn't surprised when the fist hit him. Every time he surrendered to his need to comment he took another punch to the throat.
"You're a slow learner. aren't you? You speak when only spoken to."
"Apparently, I was confused. I believed you were speaking to me –"
The punch was faster that time. Ezra didn't have a chance to brace himself and the impact almost knocked him from the chair. He struggled to catch his breath, vowing to keep quiet for at least a few minutes.
"As I was saying, I am now fully aware of who you are representing. Your name is of little consequence to me. I really don't care whether you share it or not. But I will share something with you. In addition to costing me Sylvia by your actions, according to the news two of my people were killed during that shootout. Given the fact that she said Harrington was on the ground last time she saw him I will assume he was one of the fatalities. You cost me my driver, which was bad enough - she was a very good driver. But," he bent over and picked something up from the ground "you cost me something much more valuable than that. You cost me my right-hand man. So I think it's time to even the score.
Ezra had no time to react. No time to realize what was happening before the pain resonated through him as Taylor smashed the brick down on his right hand. He could hear the cracking and popping sounds. Could feel every bone break. But only with the first hit. His own screams blended with the maniacal laughter of his torturer drowned out the noise from the remaining blows.
Taylor stood, watching as the energy faded and Ezra finally surrendered to the pain and shock, collapsing toward the table and straining against the ropes.
"Don't worry about passing out on me. We'll have lots more time together. I've only just begun."
7-7-7-7-7-7-7
Nathan didn't need to open his eyes to know exactly where he was. The sounds and smells were enough – he was far too familiar with all of it. The only questions were who was with him, and how badly was he hurt.
"Lie still honey. You're pretty banged up."
"Rain?" It was a hoarse squeak, so he repeated "Rain?"
"Yup. You just take it easy. You're in post-op. They had to fix some damage to your chest but you're going to be fine."
"The others?"
"They've been checking in regularly."
"Why?"
She frowned at the question. "Well, because they're worried. It's kind of what you all do."
He had very little success shaking his head. "No. Why not here?" He had the feeling he should already know that.
She hesitated for a second. "They're working."
It came rushing back to him. "Ezra!" Nathan's effort to move was blocked by her firm hand holding him still.
"Don't. Move. They're looking. They'll find him."
"I left him." Nathan sank back weakly.
"Left him? You were thrown out of a moving vehicle. If you hadn't been at a curve so you landed on the shoulder instead of the road –" she paused, her voice catching in her throat. "Well, It's a miracle you weren't killed."
"He's my partner." As far as he was concerned, nothing more needed to be said.
She shook her head angrily. The comments weren't much of a surprise to her, but she was still mad at him for feeling that way. "I can't imagine that it was your idea."
"That's not the point."
"Fine, it isn't. But all that matters right now is that you rest. The team is going to find Ezra, and this will all be done with."
Nathan closed his eyes for a moment. She was partially right. Finding Ezra was what the team needed to focus on, and he knew that worrying about him was a distraction they didn't need.
"Nathan? Chris wanted me to ask you if you had any idea where this guy might've taken Ezra."
He opened his eyes again, seeing for the first time the deep concern on her face. "They've got nothing?"
"More like too much from what Josiah was telling me. They're getting info from a bunch of sources which has left them with too many leads but no direction to follow. Chris was hoping you could narrow it down."
"I don't even know which way the van was going. We were in the back and couldn't see anything."
They weren't going to be happy to hear that. Her phone conversation with Chris a while ago left no room for doubt as to how desperate they were getting. "And this Taylor guy didn't say anything? Either then or maybe earlier?"
Nathan cautiously shook his head again. He lay still for a moment, trying to recall something - anything -that might offer some help, some guidance to the others. Taylor had been less than forthcoming about his personal life. Anything he could think of was information the team already had. "No. Nothing." It was killing him to know Ezra was still out there somewhere, and he was completely useless at offering any help.
She knew him well enough to know exactly what he was thinking. "You need to focus on getting better. You can't help anybody until you do. And you know Ezra wouldn't want you getting sicker worrying about him."
"Knowing it doesn't make it any easier to accept." He sighed softly. "Call them. Maybe if they tell me what they've got, something will ring a bell with me."
"You're supposed to be getting some rest. I don't think your doctor will approve-"
"My doctor has no say in the matter. Until we get Ezra back that is the only thing that matters." He looked up and knew what she was thinking. "Please Rain, call them. I'm not going to be able to sleep right now anyway, so at least I can try to be useful."
"I up the dosage of your pain meds and you'll be asleep before I could dial the phone. I'll give you 30 minutes – then you take a break. Deal?"
He didn't like it but was more than passingly familiar with the look he was getting right now. He wondered sometimes whether she taught it to Larabee or learned it from him. Either way, it was damned effective. He nodded slowly before setting his mind to reviewing everything he knew about Taylor.
7-7-7-7-7-7-7
Chris slammed the folder down on his desk. The information sent from DEA was useless. Nothing they didn't already have – hadn't already reviewed. Every bit of information seemed to be designed solely to frustrate them.
The earlier conversation with Nathan had been far more discouraging than he'd expected. Once they all got past the relief at hearing his voice again, the relief dissipated quickly. He had nothing to offer, only questions to ask. Josiah stayed on the phone with him, reviewing leads on where they thought Taylor may have gone to ground. The conversation was extremely one-sided. Nathan appeared to have little to offer. Finally, Josiah realized he was exhausting the patient, and cut the call off.
"Think about what I've said. Let is work on your subconscious. You're more likely to recall something in a dream than you are if you lie there dwelling on it all." He was quiet for a moment, then smiled slightly. "Yeah, we'll come in for a visit in a while and go over this again. Get some sleep." He hung up the phone, leaned forward with elbows resting on the desk and dropped his head into his hands.
"You really think he will be able to sleep?" Vin asked.
"He won't have a choice with Rain standing guard. Who knows? Maybe his subconscious really will come through with a lead." There was little confidence in his voice.
Chris came back into the bullpen in time to see Buck hanging up from a call with a decidedly devious look on his face. "Harrington has been transferred to our interrogation rooms. He's registered under an alias, just to be safe."
"Don't get your hopes up Buck. Judge hasn't even approved it for me to question the bastard yet. I seriously doubt he's gonna let you and your temper into the room with the man."
"Temper? I don't have a temper. I just have a few simple questions for the man, with a few direct ways of making sure we get the answers."
"Those ways would be a pretty fast way to end your career."
Buck turned to Vin. "You think that matters to me right now?"
"Nope – but it will piss Ezra off to no end. And that is not something you want to be doing."
"Right now getting lectured by Ez over my inappropriate behaviour would be the highlight of my day."
The buzz of the phone interrupted any further discussion. Chris grabbed for it. "Larabee. Yes, I know. OK, on my way." He hung up. "Travis and I are going to have a chat with Harrington. You guys keep working." Buck stood, determined to join in but Chris gently pushed him back into his seat. "Not yet friend. We're gonna hold your skills in reserve for now."
It took only a couple of minutes for him to make his way down to the high security cells in the basement of the building. Travis was already waiting.
"Harrington has been less than co-operative with the cops so far, and I don't imagine we have anything to offer that will change that."
Hating what he was about to ask for, Chris put the request out anyway. "Immunity? If he can get Ezra back for us –"
"They've already put that out. Immunity, witness protection – the whole deal. He still says no."
"He's that loyal?"
Travis shook his head. Loyalty would have been easier to deal with. "No. He's that scared. The only thing he has said is that Taylor had no qualms about killing anyone who betrays him. Or who gets in his way. Hell, he just has no qualms, period. Guy is a psychopath."
"Wonderful. And he's got Ezra, who sure as hell betrayed him and got in his way." When Travis didn't respond, Chris got nervous. "You think he's already dead – don't you?"
"Doesn't matter what I think. I'm already hearing from higher up the ladder that they are talking about switching his status from Missing in Action to Killed."
"This soon? You buy that?"
He thought for a minute. "I can't say why, but no – I don't. But like I said, it doesn't matter what I think. If they change his status –"
"- it changes our agenda." Chris finished for him. "Takes away the urgency."
"For them. Not for you six. I know you too well. I'm not letting this go that easily Chris. Evie would never forgive me if I just wrote one of you boys off."
Chris hadn't expected to laugh in this conversation. "Well, it just wouldn't do for you to have your wife that angry with you, so we better get on with this."
Harrington looked up when the door opened and immediately began shaking his head. "Nothing you can say. I'll rot in prison before I tell you anything."
"So we've heard. You do know we can protect you?"
The snort of derision was loud. "Not against Taylor you can't. The guy has connections everywhere. And he is certifiable. Totally crazy when in comes to loyalty, and I ain't gonna be the one to go against him."
Chris pulled up a chair next to him. "Well, we could just let you go, with a public statement thanking you for your co-operation."
"That the best you can do? Taylor's not stupid. He might be pissed at me at first, but when you guys don't swoop in and bust his ass, he'll know I didn't rat him out."
"What if we sweeten the deal for you?" Travis wasn't sure what he could offer beyond full protection but hoped Harrington would come up with his own suggestions.
The question earned him another snort. "You got something sweeter than staying alive? Sorry guys, but you're wasting your time." He leaned back in his seat, obviously done with the discussion.
Reluctantly, Chris rose. The one man who might have been able to bluff the prisoner into a deal was the man they were trying to find. The irony wasn't amusing. "We aren't done. We'll be back." He made his way to the door and buzzed for the guard to open it.
"Save your energy. I'm not changing my mind. Besides, I know Taylor. You're wasting your time. Even money says your man is already dead. Or is wishing he was."
M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7
tbc
Synopsis Note: Taylor has taken Ezra as hostage to an undisclosed location. In addition to the bullet wound in his leg from the previous chapter, he has been beaten and had his hand broken, although Taylor seems to want no information and is doing this only to torture Ezra.