Disclaimer - I'm really doing this as a part of a plan to take over the world and form a secret world government. I certainly don't make any money from it.
Chapter 7 - Benny, Don't Be a Hero
The pain caught up with Fraser with the realization of the reality of how badly Zhang had sliced into his shoulder, a firm, deep cut over his shoulder blade. Fraser felt blood welling out of the cut, and a burning that spread across his back. It was a different sensation from Geiger's knife in his thigh, but enough to make him stumble and gasp involuntarily.
"Down on the floor, face down please." Zhang ordered tersely.
Fraser dropped to his knees. With the knife now further away from his vital organs, he twisted swiftly, moving gracefully toward Zhang to shove her off balance. But the dangerous woman was expecting this, a booted foot coming up to kick his shoulder and push him forward. Fraser bit down on his tongue, trying not to scream.
"And that's why I had to hurt you." Zhang said. "You're too heroic for your own good. I have the knife and a gun, and you're still trying to fight me. Just lie down and do as you're told for a while." She had her foot on his shoulder, and she pushed down as she stepped over him. The flare of blinding torment made Fraser shudder involuntarily, and he had only regathered his wits in time for Zhang to have seated herself in an aisle seat, her long, elegant leg stretched out so she could keep her foot on his shoulder.
Fraser felt simultaneously revolted by and grateful for Zhang Xiaoxu's sadistic games. She had cut him deeply enough that he was bleeding freely, and he knew that would weaken him soon. But she obviously wanted to watch him suffer, and that meant she really hadn't incapacitated him as fully as she could have. Sometime during the flight she'd lose interest in watching him, lose that razor sharp focus. Then he'd find a way to take advantage of her miscalculation. Just as soon as his head stopped swimming.
"Let's get going." Zhang said to the pilot. "Head out on the original flight plan, then we'll change co-ordinates."
"Uh." The pilot's voice was shaky, shakier even than Fraser felt. "I don't think they're just going to let me take off. I was supposed to stall."
"You want me to kill this man? Take off, or he dies." Zhang said.
Fraser didn't catch a response from the pilot, but he heard the engines of the plane start, and then felt the plane move, taxiing onto the runway. The radio crackled to life. "Tango November Five Five Six Seven Romeo, this is Ground Movement Control. You are not cleared to be on the runway."
"Ignore that!" Zhang said. "They'll keep the runway clear if they have any sense."
The pilot did as she ordered, the plane moving slowly but steadily away from the hangar.
Zhang leaned down over Fraser, reaching to pet his hair, stroking his head and the back of his neck.
"There," she said, a note of triumph and pleasure in her voice, "I knew you were capable of learning. If you continue to behave, things will not go so badly for you."
A ripple of unease and distaste ran through Fraser at her tone and her gentle touch. She was playing games with him. The contrast of the pressure of her foot bringing agony and the seductive stroking of her fingers set his teeth on edge.
Perhaps it was intended to cow him, to bend him to her strong will. It was to his advantage if she thought he was passively co-operating. But even if it hadn't been strategic, Fraser would never allow her to see how uncomfortable that intimate touch made him.
---
"Chief?"
The security head took his radio from his belt. "Go ahead."
"This is Ground Movement Control. Tango November Five Five Six Seven Romeo is taxiing onto runway C without clearance. And I can't raise the pilot on the radio. Do we got a situation?"
The security head straightened up, looking taller by a couple of inches, and grimly determined. "We have a situation, yeah. Keep trying to get through on the radio. And keep me update on what's going on."
He turned to Ray, Huey and Gardino. "Sounds like you're going to want a hostage team. I'll get a truck out on the runway. You co-ordinate your end."
Sirens sounded outside.
Huey patted a stunned looking Ray on the shoulder. "Well, at least that backup's here. Let's go."
"You go sort it out." Ray said shortly. "My partner's on that plane. I mean, he is, I know it."
"And what do you think you can do about it?" Gardino said. "C'mon, have some sense, Vecchio. You gotta let this one play out. It's out of our hands."
"No." Ray grated, and pushed past Gardino and Huey, headed out of the building to the runway area. His arm was throbbing like a demon, and he felt half dead on his feet, but did they think he was just going to take a back seat in whatever was going now? Just sit down and shut up? No way.
---
The radio kept chattering, Ground Movement Control trying to get through. Zhang's foot tapped an irritated rhythm on Fraser's shoulder. Fraser let himself drift away from the sound and the sensation, let the heavy beat of his heart turn into the sound of caribou thundering across the snowy tundra. He held on for the moment. He'd know it when it came.
"There's a truck moving across the runway." the pilot announced, his voice still unsteady. "I can't - we can't go-"
Zhang stood up suddenly, her foot still in place. The breath rushed out of Fraser's lungs, and he panted, his hands curled into fists.
"Fine. If they want to play it that way, we'll play."
She sat back down. "You understand, if you want to make it out of this alive, you will do exactly as I say." she said, addressing the pilot. "I want to be sure you understand that. If you want to live, you're on my team."
"Yes, yes, of course." the pilot babbled. "Whatever you say. Whatever you want." His tone of voice was conciliatory, practically sycophantic in his desire to stay on his captor's good side.
---
Ray stood on the edge of the runway, cracking his knuckles and staring at the plane. The plane that Fraser was in. Because he hadn't been in the hangar, that was for sure. No, not Fraser. Just - Breckinridge's body, and Huey and Gardino were dealing with that, let them. He wasn't even on duty, not really. Just doing a favor for a friend. A friend who was in deep shit now. The image of Breckinridge's throat, cut cleanly across like that, not so much blood, just cold death, kept flashing in front of his eyes. Jesus, this was supposed to be some crazy little Canadian crime. Something stupid, like one of those cozy detective mysteries they had on the A&E channel Ma liked. The Case of the Purloined Disc at the Dinner Party. But now it was a matter of national security, Benny said, and a guy with his throat slashed, and hostages on a plane. And Benny was one of them.
How had his night got so weird and bad?
A wet nose snuffled up against Ray's hand. He looked down.
"Diefenbaker. Oh, now you decide to show up."
Welsh's hand fell heavily on Ray's shoulder. "Not just the wolf, detective." He was not amused to have played chauffer service to a bossy, deaf half-wolf.
"First I get woken up by the news that one of my detectives got himself kidnapped while carting around a suspect in a theft case, which suspect, incidentally, is a foreign liaison with the department, then I get out here and find another suspect is dead, and there's some kind of terrorist incident going on with Constable Fraser right in the middle of it. Why am I not surprised? No need to answer. I am not happy that I am not surprised. Surprise me, Detective. Explain what's going on here."
Ray was saved from trying to explain by the arrival of more people on the scene - the local uniformed officers, and with them, two men in dark suits that screamed 'Fed' to Ray. They were in close consulation with the head of security, and appeared to be going somewhere with him. Ray figured they were probably going to take charge of things, which meant he probably should get in with them if he wanted to do something, anything, to get Benny out of this mess. He shook off Welsh with an impolitic, "not now, sir." and strode after them.
"Hey, hey!" he called.
The head of security stopped mid stride. "Problem?" he turned to ask Ray.
"Yes, I have a problem. My partner's on that plane, and I want to know what's going on. If the Feds are taking over, I want to talk to them. That's my problem."
One of the men in the dark suits turned around. "And you are?"
"Detective Vecchio, 27th-"
"Oh yes. Good. You should come with us then."
"Do I get to know who you are?"
"I'm Agent Nesmith, as you surmised, FBI. This is Corporal Dolenz, RCMP."
The security head chief started walking again, and Ray, Agent Nesmith and Corporal Dolenz followed him.
"You're here because of Ben- Constable Fraser being in the middle of it?" Ray asked Dolenz as they walked toward the control tower.
"Not really." Dolenz said. Which made the FBI agent more polite than the Mountie, which blew Ray's mind a little, so maybe the uniform was the source of all that excess politeness of Fraser's after all. After all, he hadn't known Fraser that long, just long enough to consider him a true partner, but not long enough to figure out if the freakish politeness was a genetic disability or what. God knows, maybe it would help him talk down the psychotic Chinese lady long enough to stay alive. Ray could only hope that was true.
"So if not for Fraser, then why?" Ray demanded as the head of security badged them into the control tower.
Dolenz gave Ray a long look, then turned his gaze to Nesmith. Nesmith answered for him.
"Detective, I'm sorry, but it's a matter of Canadian national security. In the spirit of international co-operation, we're working with various Canadian law enforcement agencies to resolve it. I wish I could give you more information, but of course every effort will be made, first and foremost, to ensure the safety of the hostages."
It was a long and conciliatory speech, but the Canadian's lack of concern about his compatriot didn't inspire Ray with trust. Suits were suits the world over. "First and foremost better be right. You know that's my partner in there."
"Unofficial partner." Dolenz said, helpfully.
Ray's brows lowered. His shoulders hunched down, but that made his arm hurt enough that he had to stop and catch his breath as the others climbed the stairs to the top of the tower. Ray entered the small, computer filled room to find a tense situation. Three radio operators were seated, one of them trying to raise a response from the plane that Fraser was in, that was currently confined to its small patch of runway by an airport firetruck parked in front of it.
"Tango November Five Five Six Seven Romeo, this is the control tower. Agent James Nesmith of the FBI would like to speak to Dr. Zhang."
The new voice came through clearly on the radio, and Zhang straightened up in her seat.
"Answer." she told the pilot. "Ask them what they want."
"This is Tango November Five Five Six Seven Romeo," the pilot said. "the, uh, lady, wants to know what you want."
It wasn't exactly proper radio protocol, but the situation seemed beyond that.
"This is Agent Nesmith. Can I speak to Dr. Zhang?"
Zhang said, "Find out what he wants." sharply.
"Uh. I guess not." the pilot said. "She said what do you want?"
"First, I want to know that you and the other hostage are okay. Are you injured?"
"No, I, uh, no." the pilot said.
"All right." Nesmith said. "I'd like to speak to the other hostage. Could you put Constable Fraser on?"
Fraser waited. The pilot didn't say anything. Fraser guessed he was probably looking to Zhang for an answer.
Zhang said "Hold down the mic button. We'll let the Agent know how the Constable is."
Zhang's voice had that tone of hungry excitement that Fraser was beginning to dislike. He was not surprised, in fact he was braced for it, when she lifted her foot and stamped down on his shoulder with a force that would have been bruising even without the deep, long gash from the knife. He let out a hiss of air through his teeth, and Zhang laughed melodically. Fraser heard a choked off noise from the pilot, and Zhang said, "keep the radio on." Her booted foot came down hard again, then again, and once more before he had time to clear his mind, and a sharp sound of distress came out of his mouth.
In the control tower, Ray turned pale.
Zhang strode over to the cockpit, apparently confident that she'd debilitated Fraser enough to be sure he wouldn't rush her the moment her foot was off his back.
"If you make demands, you've heard what will happen. Now tell me what you can do for me."
"I'm sure we can end this situation without further bloodshed." Nesmith said. "I would consider it a gesture of goodwill if you would release your civilian hostage."
Ray looked out the control tower window. A SWAT team was moving into place around the plane, sharpshooters staking out positions. He pushed his hands into his pockets and tried to concentrate on listening to Nesmith talking soothingly to Zhang.
"That still isn't what you can do for me." Zhang's voice came through the radio. "That's still what you're trying to get from me, Agent... Nesmith, was it? James?"
"Sure, you can call me James. May I call you Xiaoxu?" the agent said, pronouncing the Chinese first name with fluent ease. Ray knew that he was doing it to form a rapport with Zhang so she might be easier to coax out of the plane. But it disgusted him to hear them make like friends all of a sudden.
"Why not, James? We may be here a while. Now, tell me what you're going to do for me, in exchange for the lives of these two men."
Author's Note: I am feeling the love, people! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing. This story wraps up in the next action-filled chapter, so stay tuned!