This is going to be a long chapter as there was no way I could interrupt the action until it had run its' course. Please review and let me know how you think it is going.

Disclaimer: I make no money from these scribblings!

Blood Is Thicker Than Water

Chapter 11 All Or Nothing at All

Katarina made her way down the central hallway of the large old farmhouse. It led from the foyer in the front of the house, past the living and dining rooms that branched off this main passageway, to the back of the house, where the kitchen and laundry facilities had been updated and enlarged. The entire house had been modernized and updated, while retaining its' beautiful old finishes, including brass trimmed door hinges and knobs, foot high baseboards, 12 foot high ceilings and stained glass windows. The exterior of the house had been left alone, looking distressed and weathered. The porch sagged a bit and the paint was fading on the trim. Altogether it looked well loved but poorly maintained, which was exactly what Katarina wanted. She did not want eager real estate agents driving out to the property trying to get inside to give her an evaluation on her fabulous house. If they thought it wasn't so fabulous judging by the outside, maybe they would stay away and not see what they shouldn't see. So far it had worked for years. She stopped part way down the hall beside a door set into the wood trimmed wall and unlocked it. She stepped through and disappeared. Some time later the grey men opened the front door and entered the house, with Patrick still slung over the first man's shoulder. They took the same route through the house and stopped at the same door, each stepping through and closing the door behind them.

They did not see Laila hiding behind the dining room door, observing their progress. When they were far enough ahead, she crept out and tip-toed a bit further down the hall and then secreted herself just behind an open closet door. The men were too busy maneuvering Patrick through the door in the wall to notice Laila watching their struggles. They had disappeared in the same way as Katarina. Laila made her way silently over to the door and put her ear to it, afraid of being discovered at any moment. She could hear footsteps going down what sounded like old wooden steps, the sound of a body scraping against the wall as it got bumped along the way, and the grunts of the unfortunate man assigned to carry it.

She had not wandered through the whole house in her short time there and now realized she had to learn as much as possible about it if she and Patrick were to get out of there on their own. She quietly slipped back to the staircase at the front of the house and ran up the stairs to hide in her room, praying Katarina would forget about her for the rest of the day. She waited at the top of the stairs and eventually saw Thing 1 and Thing 2 walk heavily down the hall and exit the house through the front door. Katarina was still out of sight. Laila could do nothing until she knew her Aunt was in her room and asleep for the night. Turning towards her bedroom, Laila knew that getting to Patrick was her next priority. But where to find a key to that door?

XXXXXXXX

Katarina waited at the bottom of the old wooden stairs for the grey men to arrive with Patrick. They came down the last few steps and walked towards her. She wordlessly turned and made her way through the small first room and switched on lights as she led them to a much larger area dug out under the house. A sitting area had been created, with a table and several chairs sitting on the hard packed dirt floor, an old chandelier hanging over the table. Along the side of the room there was a metal door set into the wall, and this is where she led her men. Katarina produced another key and opened the door, throwing it wide to allow the bulky men to enter with their load. Inside the room was a cot just large enough for one person, covered with a sheet and an old blanket. There was a very tired looking pillow on the cot and beside it stood an rickety bedside table holding a tin jug of cold water and a plastic cup.

Patrick had awakened as he was bumped along the wall on his way to the basement of the house. Still hanging upside down, he had surreptitiously opened his eyes and unsurprisingly saw the backside and feet of the grey man carrying him down down down. When they stopped at the bottom of the stairs he dared to open his eyes again and took a quick peek at his surroundings. The room had a dirt floor and smelled musty, damp. There were discarded household items and boxes filled with assorted out of date items littering the room. Raising his eyes a bit higher, Patrick realized he was looking at the back of Katarina Nemic as she led the little group to another room. He quickly dropped his head and closed his eyes, feigning a deep state of unconsciousness. He felt the man carrying him step down into another room and this one felt cooler and larger somehow. He opened one eye and saw a table and chairs as they approached a wall on the far side of the room, maybe 20 feet away. He closed his eyes again and heard a door unlock and yawn open. A few steps later and he felt himself get lowered gently onto the little cot. They still assumed he was asleep. Good. He wasn't up for another confrontation with the minions just yet. He kept his eyes relaxed and listened well. The men left the room and he sensed Katarina approaching. She stood over his bed and stared at his still body. She took in his messy curls and the 3 days of whiskery stubble on his face. She leaned down and felt his clothes, still wet from his ordeal in the torture room. She walked over to a shelf on the wall and came back, dropping something on the end of the bed. Lingering for a few moments more, she then turned and went out the door, locking it behind her. Patrick didn't move, hardly breathed, hoping she was not watching him through a window in the door.

After waiting a good 5 minutes in this suspended state, Patrick opened his eyes to a tiny slit, and dared to risk stealing a glance at the door. No window. He surveyed the room and found no one else sitting watching him. Realizing he was totally alone, he open his eyes fully and sat up. The lump on his feet was a package of dry clothes! He looked inside and found a long sleeved black cotton t-shirt, blue jeans, socks and a pair of boxer shorts. Looking at these clothes made him realize how wet and uncomfortable he was. Slipping off the bed, he quickly divested himself of his dirty and wet clothes and put them on the shelf to dry. Gratefully slipping on the fresh underwear, he then put on the jeans and cotton top. The pants were too loose in the waist but they would do. Next, he carefully retrieved the shard of broken mirror out of the top of his sock and slipped it into the cuff of one of the fresh socks Katarina had so thoughtfully provided. Feeling the glass safely tucked away once again, Patrick lay back down on the bed, grateful for the somewhat soft surface, and dry blanket. He drew the warm wool closely around himself and resolved to get as comfortable as possible. Being frozen to death had been hard work, and now he needed to rest. It had been a bad day all around and night had finally arrived. Patrick hoped Katarina would leave him alone. He had survived two full days at the hands of his captor. Whatever game Katarina was playing with him, it was clear she was trying to terrify him and break his spirit, but not necessarily kill him, no matter what she may have told him on his first day of captivity. He had narrowly avoided death by hypothermia, and now she was treating him kindly, even helping him. What was that about? His mind played with that thought until the coziness of the warm blanket and softness of the mattress drew him away to a much safer and kinder place.

XXXXXXXXXX

Austin, Texas

Teresa arrived back at the FBI headquarters physically refreshed and mentally renewed. She stopped at Wylie's desk and he told her they were looking for a private jet that might have been used to transport Jane out of Austin. The rest he decided to let Cho share with her. She eagerly headed to Cho's office to see what else had happened in her absence. She found him head down, studying some reports on his desk and had to clear her throat for him to finally notice her.

"Oh sorry, I didn't hear you come in!" he apologized, indicating a chair for her to sit down.

She pulled a chair up to his desk and asked the question he knew was coming.

"I didn't get a call. What's up Cho? Any leads? Anything new we can work on?"

He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, exhaling a breath with a stern look on his face. Lisbon knew that look. She waited, knowing he had something to say, and either good or bad, it was always hard to tell with Cho.

"Did you get some rest Teresa? Because if you stayed up and spent the whole time working the case from home…"

"Absolutely not, I promise." She indicated her round belly and smiled. "Jane Jr. here and I had a nice long shower and a nap, not that it didn't kill me trying not to call you every half hour."

Cho smiled for the first time and relaxed his shoulders. "Good. We do have some news, but we haven't had a payoff yet."

He told her about their visit with Erica Flynn and the help she had provided, at a cost. Lisbon was surprised that Patrick could be as close as the state of Maine, but was so grateful that he had not been flown to Europe. Cho took a sheet of paper and slid it across his desk towards Lisbon, who leaned forward eagerly to see what he had found. She saw a grainy black and white photo of a young couple from a long time ago. She looked up with a question on her face.

"That's Jan Nemic, and to his right, we suspect is his sister, Katarina."

Lisbon looked again at the photo with renewed interest.

"Cho, that's great! If someone at one of the airports remembers seeing her fly out in her private jet, we can move forward and finally find her!"

Cho looked at the photo once more but didn't seem as happy as Lisbon.

"We were hoping someone had seen her at an airport in or around Austin, but no one anywhere has seen a woman even remotely like Katarina at all, not all week. She's a ghost."

Lisbon took back the photo and studied it again. "Cho, let's go over what we know about her so far, because we are missing something obvious here."

"OK?" Cho answered in curiosity. "What are you thinking Teresa?"

She sat back and held the photo in her hand. She took her time and Cho waited for her, not wanting to interrupt her chain of thought. She finally looked up and seemed to have reached some kind of conclusion.

"What do we know about Katarina Nemic? We didn't know she existed until two days ago. She is the sister of a major crime boss, yet even when he was arrested, he didn't mention her and we didn't find any links to her. So that tells me she is very practiced at remaining in the shadows. She is not looking for glory or fame in that closed criminal society. Her strength is her anonymity."

Cho nodded in agreement. "And?"

"And, we know that she is very close to Jan, very supportive of him. But she doesn't like Laila very much considering she is her brother's child. She wanted to take Laila out of the States 5 years ago and mold her into one of the "family" to continue their work in Europe. Laila is afraid of her, but she helped Katarina kidnap Patrick. So Katarina has a sword hanging over Laila's head, right? That must be the only reason a university student who hates her family would actually commit a criminal act for them."

"Makes sense."

"Cho, what if we are looking for the wrong person? What if Katarina didn't come to Austin a few days ago to arrange Patrick's kidnapping, but stayed in the shadows like she always does. She could have been waiting for the jet to arrive with Jane and no one would ever know she was involved."

Cho turned this over in his mind and had to agree it seemed to fit Katarina's personality type.

Lisbon looked at Cho as the final piece of the puzzle dropped into place.

"Cho, we are wasting our time looking for Katarina. The persons on that jet were Laila and Patrick! We need to circulate Laila's photo."

Cho leaned back and picked up his phone. A moment later Wylie came into the office, looking from Lisbon to Cho and back again. Something had happened.

"Wylie, get the best photo you can find of Laila Kovac out to our agents in the field and tell them that from now on we are looking for anyone who saw her at any airport in and around Austin in the last 3 days. Go!" he barked, sending Wylie scurrying off to do his bidding.

"Thanks Cho" Lisbon said, glad that he thought her idea had merit.

"I should have seen that myself. Thanks go to you Teresa."

She smiled and got up to return to the bullpen. Being in the midst of the investigation had given her energy a boost, and she was determined to contribute as much as possible. Now it would just be a waiting game until someone out in the field found an eyewitness with a good memory. If the team had to work all night, they would do it to find Jane.

XXXXXXX

(The next morning, Maine safe house…)

Patrick awoke with a start and sat bolt upright in the narrow bed. The sudden motion gave him a nasty case of the spins, most likely due to his extreme hunger. He grasped the metal edge of the bed and tried to stop the room from lurching and tipping like a carnival ride. As the room gradually came to a stop, he looked around, trying to get his bearings, trying to remember where he was. The room was old and dirty, cramped and claustrophobic. There was a toilet in the corner and a jug of water on the little table beside his bed. Thinking hard, he remembered being brought down here some time the night before and being dumped onto the bed. Taking in his new accommodations, Patrick realized the room for what it was, a cell. He gingerly stood up on weak legs and holding the walls for support, made his way over to the toilet in the corner and relieved himself for the first time in many many hours. The fact that he had not gone for so long worried him. He must be dehydrated. Considering the thickness of his tongue, that was the case. He woozily wobbled over the dirt floor and returned to his bed, sinking down slowly, happy to be off his unreliable legs. Reaching out for the water jug, he paused for a moment and considered if it was drugged. Since there was no way of knowing, and he was desperately in need of a drink, he took his chances and poured himself a full cup of the cool liquid. He couldn't remember the finest wine in the world tasting as good as this water did at that moment. He poured another cupful and after finishing it, got up again, a bit more steady this time on his feet. Looking down, he found his shoes and put them on, a barrier against the cold and damp of the earthen floor. He slowly strolled over to the door and put his ear against it, straining to hear if anyone was standing guard on the other side. While it was silent, that didn't mean that the room beyond was empty, so he turned and wandered over to the small shelf on the wall. Seeing his clothes there drying, he looked down and realized he was wearing new, ill-fitting clothes. Smiling at his forgetfulness, he searched for anything else of interest in the room. There wasn't anything. No mirror, no shaving utensils, no comb or soap. Nothing that could be used for an escape attempt.

'Very smart Katarina' he thought to himself. Remembering his flight, he reached into the pocket of his almost dry jeans and fished out a packet of soap stolen from the jet. Taking off his shirt, he turned on the tap of the small sink by the toilet and happily washed his hands and face, lathering up his neck and upper body, getting as clean as he could. There was a small but clean towel folded under his night table which did the job of drying him off. Finding a nail in the wall, he hung it up to dry and put his shirt back on. Looking around his cell he realized there was nothing else to do except wait for whatever surprise Katarina came up with on day 3 of his new life.

Patrick had no window in his cell and therefore no real way of telling how much time had elapsed, when finally he heard a key engage the lock, and his door swung open. Thing 1 entered the room and with a flick of his finger, indicated to Patrick that he needed to get up and go out of the door. Squeezing past the grey man, Jane exited his cell and stepped into the larger room he had only slightly glimpsed the night before. Sitting at the table underneath the lopsided old chandelier sat Katarina, cradling a steaming cup of something that smelled delicious. Thing 1 pushed Patrick forward and indicated a chair opposite Ms. Nemic.

"Good morning Mr. Jane. I hope you found your room to your liking?" she said softly, like the hostess of a bed and breakfast hotel.

"Yes, I did. Thank you" he replied warily. He didn't trust her for a moment.

"From watching you for so long I know you appreciate fine tea as much as I do. Would you like a cup of Earl Grey Breakfast Tea Mr. Jane?"

"Yes, please, that would be lovely. Thank you." Patrick felt like he was in a weird sort of play, acting out a character on an underground stage.

Thing 1 responded to a nod of Katarina's head and brought an old china teapot over to the table and poured a cup of tea into Jane's waiting cup.

"I took the liberty of adding the milk to your cup first Mr. Jane, I hope that is the way you like it? she purred.

"You know that's how I like it Ms. Nemic" he smiled back weakly. He was sure she knew absolutely everything about him now and had for quite some time.

Thing 1 stepped back from the table but stood watch close by. Since he didn't understand English, Katarina could speak freely with her 'guest'.

Patrick picked up his delicate cup with a shaky hand and took a long sip of the warm and rich brew. The flavour burst on his tongue and brought so many memories flooding into his brain he had to shut his eyes to stop from revealing his moment of weakness in front of the Boss Lady. The taste brought images of his sun-filled kitchen to mind, sitting across from Teresa, who was nursing a cup of decaf coffee, her hand drawing lazy circles on her large belly. He wanted to lean over and kiss those lips and put his hand on her tight top, hoping to feel the life that dwelled underneath the stretched fabric…

His eyes flew open, and he saw the sly smile on Katarina's face. Damn. She had caught him.

Trying to sound unemotional, he spoke again. "This is perfect tea, thank you."

She nodded and took another sip from her cup. It was like a dance, a slow motion cat and mouse confrontation, both waiting for the other to begin the actual attack.

Patrick took one more sip and then put his cup down on his saucer, always the gentleman. He sat back and folded his hands in his lap. And waited. This was Katarina's game, so let her make the first move. He had all day.

Watching him with shrewd eyes, Katarina finished her tea, taking her time, and then pushed the cup aside.

"Mr. Jane, I think it is time we discuss your future."

"My future? Go on…"

"I am referring to the future you do not have anymore, and the future you can have from this day forward" she said with authority. "That future."

"And what future do I not have anymore, since I am not able to see into the future myself... "

"Don't be coy with me Mr. Jane, of course you know perfectly well which future I refer to. The future you planned to spend with your lovely wife Teresa, and the child she carries at this moment. That future is no longer on the table. It must be replaced with a better plan."

"I am quite content with that future and really have no need of anything else. There is no better plan" he replied with concern.

"Oh but there is Mr. Jane, there is. There is the future where you work for me and Jan. Why waste your many talents working for the FBI, or worse than that, why retire from the FBI to raise your baby out in the country while your wife works for the agency? That would be a travesty, surely?"

"Oddly enough, I don't want to join the Nemic family business Katarina. Is that what all this is about?" he said, waving his hand around to indicate the room they were sitting in. "Am I here so that you can convince me to turn my back on my family and work for you?"

"Patrick, if I may call you by your first name… that is most certainly what is going to happen, and you will do it willingly and happily, just like all of my other men…" she said, looking at the grey man hovering just out of earshot.

Patrick picked up his cup and sipped the warm tea silently. He took his time and finally finished the cup.

"That was wonderful. Thank you Katarina. As to your proposal, I'm afraid that will never happen. To think so is a fantasy, unworthy of you" he said, knowing he was pushing her buttons again.

Her jaw tightened and her eyes flashed for a moment. He was getting to her, as he hoped. But she needed him, he didn't need her. So how to play this out?

"Mr. Jane, I assure you this is not a fantasy but a very well established protocol. Where do you think I get my people from after all? Everyone has something they love, something they can't bear to lose. Take my man over there…. he was once as determined as you to have his own sad little future with his wife and daughters."

Jane looked over at the passive face of the grey man.

"But I saw potential in him. Not big potential, but he could be led and used quite efficiently as you have discovered. I took him and kept him for as long as it took to convince him that his life with me would mean continued life for his wife and girls. If he had insisted on being 'his own man", his family would have met with a very unfortunate end. One which he witnessed with his own eyes when another of my men with potential disappointed me."

'So you killed a man's family to bring him in line? Is that it?" Jane asked with incredulity.

"Well yes and no. I killed his family, then after he found out, I killed him. My other guests," she waved at grey man #1, "saw the errors of their ways and became much more willing to join our happy family."

"And their families?"

"Oh I can assure you they are well and being taken care of. As long as my men are loyal to me, I leave their families alone. They just can't ever leave to see them again. It's a small price to pay for their continued good health."

Patrick felt sweat trickling down the inside of his shirt sleeves. He was dealing with a lunatic, and lunatics were very hard to manipulate.

"So if I see the error of my ways?..."

"If you see the error of your ways , your wife Teresa and your baby will have a long and prosperous life, just not with you. You will belong to me."

Katarina sank back in her chair and smiled the smile of a woman so far removed from reality that it made Jane's skin crawl.

Katarina raised her index finger and the grey man sprang into action, grabbing Jane around the upper body and lifting him forcefully out of his chair. Jane fought as hard as he could to repel the hard grey man, but he eventually dragged Patrick kicking and fighting back to his cell. When Katarina's man got there he methodically beat Patrick until he collapsed onto the floor. Kicking dirt up into Jane's face, the silent man stepped back through the door and locked it, leaving Patrick bleeding and unconscious yet again, back on Katarina's weird treadmill of control.

XXXXX

So Katarina gives a little and then she takes a lot. Is that how she breaks people? How long can a person live like that? Lisbon and Cho are onto something, but they had better hurry up!