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WHEN WORLDS COLLIDE
CHAPTER 10
Kaz supervised the guards as they secured the second man to the high beam, content in the knowledge gravity would do some of the work for her.
Within minutes he would start to feel the strain in his arms and back, leading to a dull ache that would soon become an agonising burn. Before long the pain would be excruciating, as ligaments, muscles and tendons started to pull and tear. He looked fit, so Kaz was confident he would be able to endure the ordeal until morning. Therefore with a wink, a tap on his flushed cheek, and an extra tug until only the tips of his toes were touching the floor, she left the glowering man behind and went to check on his friend.
The beaten man was unconscious. He flinched at her touch, but didn't wake. Kaz ruffled the dark spiky hair, and smiled. She loved her job, and enjoyed making men like him pay. Cold hearted military men like her uncle. Men who oppressed and persecuted the innocent, like the way her uncle had oppressed and abused her. Yet her life hadn't started that way…
Katrina Patterson had been born out of love. Her mother, a shy Scots lass, had fallen head over heels for a tall, dark handsome backpacker from California, who loved the woman and her country so much, he left the sun kissed beaches behind to settle in Scotland. At least that's what her granny had told her, although to Kaz her parents were only smiling faces in a faded photograph.
Left orphaned when barely a year old, Kaz spent the next twelve, and happiest years of her life with her granny, in the fishing port of Oban. It was pretty there, the people friendly, and Kaz had loved to watch the ferries go back and forth along the bay to Mull. Sometimes, when they weren't filled with tourists, the skipper would let Kaz and her friends cadge a lift. It's capital, Tobermory, held a special memory as the only time she'd ever been kissed. A clumsy fumble from Jimmy Smith, had ended in teeth crashing together and a lot of embarrassment. For the rest of day, neither of them spoke of it, intent on watching the fisherman repair their nets. Kaz had liked Jimmy, and always hoped they would get another chance to get it right, but it wasn't meant to be.
When granny died, her small world fell apart when she was taken from the life she loved, to live with an uncle she'd never met in New York. Used to the quiet fishing town, Kaz hadn't liked living in a bustling city that didn't sleep, but at least Uncle Kenny seemed nice, until her small inheritance ran out. He was an ex-marine who'd been court marshalled, and after having been dishonourably discharged, worked odd jobs to make ends meet. The money he'd made, spent on booze and cigarettes. The little leftover, had been barely enough to keep her fed and clothed.
Kaz never found out what he'd done, he'd kept that part quiet during his drunken rages. All she knew was he took his anger, frustration and bitterness out on her. When her money dried up, he quickly resented her presence, derided her for not being cute like the other girls her age, and used her as unpaid labour to cook and clean up after his drinking buddies, who turned up night after night - then the beatings started.
In a strange city she didn't known anyone. No-one she could've turned to for help against her abuser. Even at school there had been no respite. No-one wanted to make friends with a witch, her new classmates frightened of the girl with the weird eyes.
Up until then Kaz hadn't thought about them before, but her beloved granny had always told her they were beautiful. That one day some lucky man would come along and appreciate her uniqueness, someone who would love her for who she was – but no one ever had.
As the years passed, the violence grew. He would beat her with his fists, or whatever else he could lay his hands on, but only on places where no-one could see, Uncle Kenny always careful to heal the damage he'd caused. The scars he left were more than skin deep, yet in a strange way it was him she'd to thank for her expertise, and she had, the day she left him lying in a pool of his own blood. She'd enjoyed taking her revenge on the man who'd caused her so much misery, and the pleasure when his lifeless eyes looked back at hers, had given her a glow which lasted for hours. That was the day Katrina, the once innocent child was left firmly behind, and Kaz like the phoenix, rose from the ashes. A woman, who embraced her looks, and the unique talents he'd taught her, deciding then and there to put them to good use…
Kat wiped the sweat from her brow, and longed for something cooler to wear. It was getting warmer by the minute, and although there were enough supplies for her and her men, Kaz didn't know how long the air would last. She was no fool, and realised rescue would come, hopefully before it was too late, but aware it would be 50/50 as to who came first. Wo Fat, or the people belonging to Sheppard.
Either way, Kaz had a plan. She had no intentions of leaving any witnesses behind, intending to kill Sheppard, and his imposter whether or not he gave her the information. Still, she'd never failed before, and was confident; she would get what Wo Fat required, obtain her fee, and have a short vacation before deciding on her next job.
In the meantime she needed to make sure the prone man would survive his ordeal. "If you break it, you fix it." had been her uncle's motto, and if Kaz wanted him fit for interrogation she would need to check his friend had done a good job. He had. Or at least it was close enough. His arm was dressed. The torn, raw flesh looked clean, but Kaz jammed in an IV with some antibiotics for good measure.
His black cotton pants appeared lightweight, at least lighter than the heavy tartan she usually favoured. Kaz disliked discarding the one thing that reminded her of happier times, but if she wanted to survive this heat, she needed something else to wear. Besides, the guy wasn't going to need them for much longer.
ooooOoooo
"Three days - you've got to be kidding me! They could be dead by then." Danny ran both hands through his hair and stared at the military man in disbelief.
The major in charge of the combat engineers, Henderson, just looked at him, expressionless, before turning to Rodney and Ronon. "It could be less, but if we go any faster we'll risk bringing the whole mine down. We have to face the fact they could be dead already, sir."
Flushed with anger and frustration Ronon grunted incomprehensibly, and stormed away. The others went silent, as the soldier continued. "If anyone is alive down there, we estimate they'll have enough residual air for at least the next twenty-four hours. Of course it depends on how many of the tunnels have collapsed."
Chin stepped forward. "Isn't there another entrance? I remember my father telling me he used to play hide and seek there as a boy. There was a small crevice he used to crawl through on the hillside that led down to the back of the mine."
"We found that, Sir," The major replied, "but it was too narrow for a man to fit through. In any case, it would be too risky to send someone down. The tunnels are very unstable, and I could be sending them to their death."
"I'll do it." Ronon had re-appeared and was standing with his arms folded.
"Like I said, sir, you're too …"
"I am not, and I would like to try." Teyla stepped forward, and was using a gritted smile Danny recognised. It was the same determined smile Rachael used to give him during their marriage. A look that told him she was going to do something, whither he liked it or not. Just like her mother, Gracie was developing the same talent.
"You'll need someone to help you." Kono announced. She had been standing beside her cousin, but was now facing Teyla. Her young face was just as determined.
Teyla nodded. "Thank you, and I will accept your offer. But only when I go down, there is not any immediate danger."
Kono's lips pursed, and Danny thought she was going to object but instead flicked her hair over her ear as she turned to Chin. "So where is this tunnel?"
"Didn't you hear anything I've just said?" The major looked at the women as if they'd lost their minds, but Teyla and Kono just gave him a blank stare. He rolled his eyes, searching the other men for support, but when he got none, he let out a long sigh. "Fine. If you ladies want to give it a try, I'll give you as much support as I can. At least let me send a camera down first to make sure there are no obvious dangers?"
Teyla gave Kono a nod, before she answered. "That is a sound precaution, Major, and we thank you for your help. If it is acceptable, I would like to make the attempt at first light tomorrow."
The combat engineer just nodded, but his expression spoke volumes. Danny could tell the guy was pissed, and in a way he couldn't blame him. Teyla had just informed him he had until tomorrow to get the tunnel checked out, or she was going down, ready or not.
Sheppard was no pushover, but he wondered just how many times Teyla called the shots. From what he'd witnessed, Sheppard's team were a weird bunch. Each member very much an individual, but when they got together, even he could tell it was a seamless fit. Then he thought about Five-O, and suppressed a wry smile. Back in Jersey he would never have befriended someone like McGarrett, but here, their friendship made perfect sense. If someone had told him six months ago he'd be having the best time of his life working with an ex-Navy Seal, a suspected thief and a rookie, Danny would never have believed them. Life was strange like that, and he was glad the way things had turned out; at least he would be, once he knew Steve was alive.
ooooOoooo
In misery, Steve prayed for the darkness to take him, but the pain had been too great, and the pounding in his head too fierce, to fall sleep.
The deep searing agony of muscles strained beyond their limits, had given way to a raging heat rippling through his body, as his shoulders burned, struggling to support his weight. Now all he felt was a numbness, a bone-weary heaviness that shrouded him like a fog, clouding his brain, and leaving him desperate for it to be over. The only evidence of blood coursing through his body, the trickle that slid in never ending rivulets from abraded wrists he could not longer feel.
Yet there was another pain, worse the physical he was struggling to deal with – Sheppard. Images of the raw tacky welts which he'd caused, haunted him, and regardless of who gave the order, Steve was sickened by the brutal assault he'd carried out on a good man.
John had told him it wasn't his fault, and deep down Steve knew he was right. But it was him who'd wielded the weapon, inflicting the punishment, and he couldn't shake the feeling there must have been something he could have done to stop it.
Left in the oppressive heat of the darkened room, Steve latched onto memories to help him focus, help him cope with the agonising spasms tearing him apart. There had been good times in his life, but it was just his luck only the unhappy memories surfaced in the long painful hours, of another man he'd failed, his dad, who, for so many years he didn't understand. Steve did now, and wanted the same thing his father had – to bring Wo Fat to justice. How he was going would do this, strung up like a piece of freaking meat, he didn't know. All he knew was it wouldn't be fair to die like this, not when he was getting so close to the truth… It wouldn't be right to fall victim to the same devious bastard who'd killed his parents.
Exhausted, sleep finally started to claim him when he was blinded by light streaming from the corridor. Kaz was standing in the open doorway, flanked by her two goons. She looked different somehow, the pink hair tied back carelessly with a piece of ragged black material, and instead of the kilt, she was wearing a pair of ripped shorts. The material looked horribly familiar.
Steve tried to hide the fear threatening to choke him, but it wasn't for himself. "Is he dead?"
At first Kaz ignored him, intent in opening a black Gladstone bag, and placing the contents, a row of different sized knives, neatly in a row on the table at the side of the cell. She tweaked the material keeping her hair in place, and flicked back a stray hair behind her ear before she turned to face him.
"No. Your friend was sleeping peacefully the last time I saw him, although I expect the pain from his wounds will be waking him up very shortly."
A wave of relief flowed through him, and he let out the breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding. The feeling short lived, as Steve realised her presence meant only one thing. Sheppard's beating had only been the beginning, and now it was his turn.
"I don't normally make this offer twice," Kaz smiled, "but as I like you, and provided of course you're not John Sheppard, if you tell me who you are I'll leave your fate to my employer once we get out of here."
Frying pan and fire came to mind, which reminded him how parched he was, and Steve tried not to stare at the bottle of water held in her hand. "Thanks, but I'll have to turn down your generous offer, because I am John Sheppard. I'm the guy you want."
Kaz took a long draft from the bottle, pouring some down the crevice of her breasts, wiping the excess drops with the back of her hand. "Would you like some?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned to the guards. "Take him down."
He dropped, hitting the hard stone floor with a sickening thud, stunned. The pain swam and surged in his head, and Steve was only vaguely aware of something cold and sharp – then his hands were free. But release didn't bring freedom, as he was unable to escape the ongoing torture as reawakened nerves came back to life in an explosion of agony.
Kaz took another sip, then smiled. "Catch..."
Unable to move, Steve watched her throw the bottle and felt it hit off his chest then spill its precious contents onto the ground. He was so damn thirsty, he could have wept as the water soaked his tee then trickle into the crevices in the floor, but he refused to give her the satisfaction of watching him lap it up like a dog.
"Not thirsty then? Well break time is over, John Sheppard, or whoever you are." Kaz lifted her eyebrows in a quizzical stare, before nodding to the waiting goons. "Take off his shirt, and put him in the chair."
As feeling returned, Steve managed to regain some control and tried to resist. He kicked out, catching one man on the knee, sending him sprawling. His small victory short lived, when an iron fist tore into his gut leaving him lying breathless, curled up on the floor.
Kaz went to stand over him, and in full view of the three men, took off her waistcoat, dragged off his tee, and put it on, tying it into a crop. She crouched down and Steve could feel her hot, sweet, breath as she wagged a finger in his face. "You, naughty, naughty boy - now you're going to pay for that."
ooooOoooo
TBC