Jessica came to his cubicle for the fourth time, asking the same question.
"Where the hell is Harvey? Have you heard from him, he has missed three appointments today?"
Mike wasn't sure why everyone seemed to think that he knew where Harvey was, because he didn't. Frankly, he was getting a little concerned, no one had heard from Harvey since the day previous and that just wasn't like him. He had called Harvey's cell phone around 100 times, with no answer, just the curt answering machine message.
"Jessica, do you think something has happened? I mean… Harvey doesn't just disappear."
"He may not, but he seems to have today. If you hear from him, tell him to get off his ass and call me, and he better have a good excuse or he's fired."
She clearly didn't share Mike's concern about Harvey's disappearance. He got up and headed up to Harvey's office and Donna, maybe she knew something.
As he came down the hall towards her, she looked up at him and he could see on her face that she was worried too and clearly knew nothing herself.
"Where is he Donna?"
"I don't know, this is really weird, this isn't Harvey. What was he doing last night?"
"I don't know, well yes I do remember that he was going for dinner with Cameron."
Donna appeared a bit more alarmed at this news; clearly she didn't know that.
"What's wrong, do you think he did something? I can't imagine he would do something to Harvey, would he?"
"I don't know," she squeaked out.
Mike realized that they were probably both overreacting, but a feeling in his gut told him that something was very wrong.
"Let's call Cameron, maybe he knows where Harvey is."
"I, ok." She seemed a bit unsure of this idea, but went along with it. Quickly dialing the number she waited for an answer. After a few seconds she hung up, "answering machine."
"Do we have any other numbers for him?"
"No, just this one, it's his cell, he always answers his cell."
Now Mike was getting scared. What if they had been killed in a car crash or something.
"Maybe we should call the police."
Donna nodded, and picked the phone back up.
As she discussed Harvey's disappearance and inquired into any possible information they might have, it became clear she was getting nothing. Mike was surprised when he heard her ask if she could file a missing person's report and realized that that wasn't a bad idea, it would get the police involved in looking for Harvey. But her face fell when she heard the answer and Mike remembered that Harvey had to be missing for 24 hours before they could file.
After she had hung up, they both sat thinking for a few minutes longer.
"Do you have a spare key to his place?"
Donna looked up and smiled quickly, "yes, I do, let's go."
The ride over was agonizing; Mike hoped that they would find Harvey at home, safe and sound. He was even willing to deal with the inevitable anger that would follow them letting themselves into his apartment without his approval.
Donna handed him the key and he unlocked the door and they both crept in quietly. He wasn't sure why they were creeping so much, but went along with it anyway. The apartment was impeccable, neat and tidy, and also empty of anyone. He could see the suit Harvey had worn the day previous hanging on a hanger on a door handle, ready to go to the dry cleaners and no other evidence of his being there recently.
"Donna, what do we do?"
Donna took in a shaky breath and answered, "we file a missing person's report in a few hours."
Mike nodded, it was their only choice, and the feeling of dread in his chest increased.
Every time the door opened at the end of the hall, he felt cold fear trickle through his body. He felt incredibly guilty every time the feet that followed went to the door of another victim. The others didn't try to be quiet as he had and their screams pierced him.
Some time later, he had no concept of time in there, he heard the door open again and he tensed up. When he heard the next door open and it wasn't his he relaxed. But then he heard talking and another door opened and then another. When his door opened he gripped his legs against himself protectively, but a different man poked his head in and told him to get up and follow him. When he didn't move immediately, the man stepped in to the room and physically dragged Harvey off the bed and out into the hallway.
It was the first time that he got a good look at the other prisoners and he was horrified when he recognized a few faces, and they clearly recognized him. They were esteemed musicians, artists and even another lawyer. None of which were close acquaintances of his, but he knew who they were nonetheless.
They were led down the hall to another door, and then through another door immediately to the left, which housed a set of stairs that opened up into a large circular room that was well lit with candles everywhere.
Harvey noticed a circle of chairs around the middle of the room with a piano in the centre. They were each led to a chair and instructed to sit down. Once they were all in position their captors positioned themselves on the outside of the circle, clearly to keep anyone from doing anything stupid like running.
Harvey studied the faces of the other victims, and felt even guiltier for the relief he had felt every time it hadn't been him.
"Mr. Smith, I think it's time you regaled us with your talent, don't you?"
He wasn't sure who Mr. Smith was, but no one moved for a few seconds. Then slowly, a man on the other side of the circle stood and made his way to the piano. He sat down gingerly, and with a look of great pain on his face, began to play beautifully.
Harvey realized what was happening. They were making them perform, sharing their talents and showing just how special they each were. His repulsion grew ten-fold. These bastards were unbelievably sick.
The bastards in question were all watching the performance with soft, pleased expressions on their faces, mutually smug in their own ability to capture that talent.
Harvey wasn't sure what he would have to do if they asked him to perform, but he knew he wouldn't do it.
After Mr. Smith had finished the piece he had been playing, he sat quietly at the piano, waiting for instruction. Clearly this performance circle was a regular thing; they all knew how it operated.
"Mr. Smith, that was beautiful, you may re-take your seat."
Mr. Smith quickly scuttled back to his wooden chair, glad to be out of the spotlight.
Harvey noticed that the voice that he kept hearing was actually coming from above them. He glanced upwards and noticed a balcony that spanned the room and attempted to see the source of the voice, but the shaking shadows created by the candles gave away nothing.
"I'm sure you have all noticed that we have a new guest here with us, Mr. Harvey Specter, one of New York's most noted attorneys. I'm sure you will all welcome him warmly as one of us and we hope he will stay with us for a good long time."
The warning was evident in that statement. If he wanted to live, he had to behave. It sent a shiver down Harvey's spine.
"Mr. Greenfield, perhaps you would like a turn?"
Harvey was grateful that the attention was no longer on him. The Mr. Greenfield referred to stood and took his position at the piano and began playing.
This went on for some time. Other instruments were brought out and a violinist played as well as a cellist. An actor was forced to recite a monologue and a dancer to perform a solo.
When the captors appeared to finally be satisfied with their theatrics of the evening, they were all led back to their separate quarters and locked in.
Harvey repositioned himself in the corner of the bed and listened for the door again.
But his mind was also working quickly; the movement to the performance room might possibly also provide an opportunity for escape. He needed to pay close attention the next time they were led there.