Thanks for reading and the reviews :) Just in case the last chapter wasn't enough to scare you off, this chapter contains more torture (its a little more graphic I think). Let me know if I'm getting too carried away :P
Chapter Seven
Ziva slammed her phone down, swearing in a foreign language. McGee gulped. He had no idea what she'd said, but he could tell it wasn't pleasant.
"Ah… everything okay, Ziva?" he offered. She scowled.
"We have nothing, McGee. Nobody at the rental agencies remember seeing Curtis Oswell."
"I couldn't pick up anything off the surveillance tapes either. I sent them down to Abby so she can double-check."
"So what do we do now?" Ziva frowned, her head resting in her hands on her desk.
"Back to work, David," Gibbs strode out of the lift, his third cup of coffee in hand. "I don't care how many times you've done it, go through Oswell's history again. Find out about his acquaintances, people he met in jail. He could have an accomplice in this."
Personally, Gibbs doubted that. From his experience with serial killers, they weren't good at sharing. The perverse pleasure they derived from torturing and killing – they wanted to keep it all to themselves. But Gibbs wasn't about to let himself admit that they had drawn a blank – Tony was still missing and they had no new information or leads to go on.
Gibbs looked up as the sound of heavy breathing interrupted his musings. The mail boy was standing in front of his desk, looking a little nervous.
"What do you want, Andrew?" Gibbs said, remembering the man's name.
"Uh.. it just… I remembered last time….you asked……….I'm supposed to deliver to the second floor before this one………but I saw………."
"What?" Gibbs asked, unapologetically curt. His best agent was missing and the last thing he needed was a tongue-twisted man in shorts wasting his time.
"Th...This came for you," Andrew said finally, reaching into his trolley and passing Gibbs a box. He took off for the lift before Gibbs could reply.
"Weird guy," Gibbs muttered, turning his attention to the box in his hand. He froze. It was all too familiar, the size, the shape, the brown paper. Oswell.
"Ziva, get Abby up here," Gibbs said, still holding the box so he didn't further compromise the evidence.
Ziva nodded, reaching for the phone. Less than a minute later, Abby bounded out of the lift, evidence bag already open. Gibbs dropped it in and she left just as quickly, taking McGee to help her analyze it.
Gibbs sat at his desk, feeling helpless. He knew what would be in that box – another finger or toe. The question wasn't which it would be, it was who it belonged to. He swallowed the bitter coffee in his mug, staring intently at the digital clock in the corner of the computer screen. Computers were good for something.
The numbers changed 32 times before his cell phone rang. Abby. He could tell by the caller I.D. Not bothering to answer it, Gibbs stood up, banging his fist on Ziva's desk to get her attention. She was on the phone, presumably still working on Oswell's history, but hung up immediately, following Gibbs to Abby's lab.
Abby was about to try calling Gibbs again when he barged into the lab, Ziva in tow.
"What ya got, Abby?"
"Finger. According to Ducky, left ring finger. I tested the blood, it's A positive." Abby said somberly. "Lexi's blood type."
Tony was O+, Gibbs remembered from their many trips to the emergency ward. He felt a wave of relief rush over him at the new information, but immediately felt sickened at himself for being glad an innocent woman had been tortured instead of Tony.
"Any trace off the box?" He asked.
Abby shook her head. "Nada."
"We checked everything, boss." McGee said from the other side of the table. "No fingerprints, no epithelials, no trace particles."
"I kinda got that from the 'Nada'," Gibbs said with a smirk.
"It's exactly the same as the two others," McGee continued, unfazed by Gibbs' comment. "Oswell's too good at this. He even cleaned under the fingernail this time. He's not giving us anything to work with."
Gibbs frowned. It almost sounded like McGee was giving up on Tony. "So look harder, McGee."
"Gibbs, there was a note with the box," Abby said, holding it out.
A yellow sticky note with two lines scrawled across it. Gibbs didn't recognize it as Tony's writing.
Having lots of fun.
Wish you were here!
"Sick bastard," Gibbs muttered, walking out of the lab.
OOOOO
The silence seemed to engulf him, hanging limply from the wall. He blinked in the darkness, feeling the crustiness where the blood had dried along his eyelid. Tony closed his eyes, trying to think happy thoughts.
Gibbs will find us.
Gibbs will save us.
Gibbs will come. Soon.
He had to. Tony didn't know how much longer Lexi could hold on. Restrained across the room, Lexi had finally fallen silent, slipping into blissful unconsciousness. Tony was glad. She couldn't feel the pain when she wasn't awake. And there was so much pain to feel.
The events of the past few hours replayed themselves in Tony's mind.
"Your turn."
Oswell turned toward Lexi, the knife in his hand, slick with Tony's blood.
"Stay away from her, Oswell. I swear to god, don't touch her!"
Oswell didn't stop, he kept walking toward Lexi as if he hadn't even heard.
"Oswell! Leave her alone!!" Tony screamed, flailing against the tight chains. "She didn't do anything to you, your beef is with me."
Reaching Lexi, Oswell turned, a glint in his eye. "You're right, Anthony. My beef is with you. And that's why this is much more effective than any injury I could inflict on you."
Tony could only watch and yell as Oswell unlocked the cuff holding Lexi's left hand, stroking it gently. Lexi was too weak to protest, too weak to even move the hand as he ran his tongue down her wrist. His fingers rested on her broken pinky, tweaking it gently. Eyes closed, Lexi whimpered as the broken bones grated.
"Eenie, meenie, minie, mo." Oswell chanted, his dirty fingernails moving over each of Lexi's fingers in turn. They rested on her fourth finger.
"Ring finger," Oswell said pleasantly. "Don't worry, Lexi dearest. You're not going to be getting married any time soon. Any time ever, I should think."
Tony screamed, screamed until his voice was hoarse. Every threat, every swear word he'd ever heard. It did nothing. Oswell wiped the blade of his knife on the fabric of Lexi's underwear before hacking into the base of Lexi's finger.
Her scream filled the air. A scream of fear, of passion, of hate, but mostly just of pain. It muted the crunch as Oswell cut through the bone. Tony had never heard such a sound, and he hoped he never had to hear it again. Finished, Oswell ran a finger down Lexi's face, streaking it with her own blood.
"Thank you my dear. You've been very helpful." Oswell unfolded her arm where she'd pulled it close to her body, locking it back into the cuff. Double bolting the door and switching off the light, he was gone again.
That was over two hours ago. Lexi had hung there, sobbing uncontrollably as the pain racked her body. Unable to help, unable to comfort her, Tony spoke, telling her stories, jokes, movies quotes, hoping he could somehow reassure her with his voice. She probably couldn't hear him through the pain. Which was why Tony was glad when she finally slipped into unconsciousness.
Tony heard the shift of the bolt in the door before the lights flickered on again. Oswell crept in, finger to his lips telling Tony to be silent.
"That was fun," Oswell whispered.
Tony stared at him, saying nothing.
"I noticed before that you don't like to show weakness," Oswell said, running his finger along the cut down Tony's face. Tony twitched, turning his head. "So now we're going to play a game together. Should be right up your alley. These are the rules: make any sound and I'll take another toe off your pretty friend over there. I've been meaning to even up her feet anyway. Understand?"
Tony said nothing.
"Good. Lets begin."
Oswell reached into a pocket, grabbing a fingerful of white crystals. He rubbed it into the deep cut on Tony's face, getting it in Tony's eye in the process. Tony bit his lip, blinking against the stinging tears that formed in his eyes. Salt.
"Good work Anthony," Oswell said, rubbing Tony's chin. "You're doing better than your little girlfriend already."
Oswell reached inside his jacket, taking out a cigar. He bit off the end, holding it between his teeth as he lit it. Taking a puff, he blew the smoke into Tony's eyes.
"I always did enjoy a good cigar. Now, a little harder this time."
He plunged the cigar into Tony's chest, holding it firmly as the skin blistered and burnt. Tony clenched his teeth against the pain, refusing to make a sound. As the smell of burning skin reached Tony's nostrils, Oswell pulled back, peering at the welt that had formed on Tony's collarbone.
"Hmmm," He sounded a little disappointed that Tony hadn't reacted. "Not to worry."
Then he swung, a right hook straight into Tony's abdomen. Tony gasped as the breath was knocked out of him, but he didn't make a sound. Oswell swung again and again, punching Tony in the jaw, the chest, the arms, the nose.
"You're good, Anthony. Very good," Oswell whispered, mussing Tony's hair as Tony clenched his eyes, winded. Blood ran down his chin from his nose and busted lip. "Last one!"
Tony bit down on his lip as Oswell grasped his left pinkie, twisting it until he heard a horrible SNAP. The pain hit him with a jolt and the coppery taste of blood touched his tongue. Tony looked up at his outstretched hand. His finger was twisted, sticking up at a sickening angle. As he peered closer, Tony could see white bone fragment protruding through the skin.
"Oh, that was fun," Oswell said, no longer whispering. "I can't resist. Just one more." And he reached for the dreaded dial in his pocket, turning it up. His fingers pressed down on the button and Tony's body jerked violently with the electricity. Tony still said nothing, his eyes fixed on Oswell. Gleefully, Oswell pressed down again, shocking Tony until the darkness finally clouded his vision and his body slumped in the chains.
What did you think? Too graphic? Too much Tony-pain? Not enough? Write me a review and let me know
Super-em