Title: Hatred is the Strongest Poison
Chapter 11 – Team One - Hot Call

"Did you like the call? I thought it sounded very believable," Monty taunts Spike as he rips the tape from his mouth and then pulls out the thick musty cloth; the effective gag ensuring that Spike could only listen to Monty's message about him being sick but offer nothing in return to alert the team to his helpless predicament.

"They'll never…believe it," Spike lightly coughs as Monty uncuffs his wrists that had been cuffed behind his back; not caring about the skin under the thick silver that is darked and chewed up. Without saying another word, Monty helps Spike to his feet and then out of the small dingy prison, heading toward the bathroom. His captor, it did seem wasn't without some small sense of decency in that he always let Spike use the bathroom in privacy, either that or he was just very hygienic. But Spike never mistook that need for cleanliness for a false sense of compassion; his captor, was without remorse and a few backhands to the face and hits to the ribs had told him over the past few days that he was right - Monty Glennon is a heartless monster.

"You have five minutes after which I'll just come in and get you," Monty states firmly as he shoves Spike into the small closet sized bathroom stall; another windowless room with only a small toilet and sink, nothing sharp to use and no way to escape.

"Greg can…help you," Spike tries only to receive a slap to the mouth, pulling his face back from Monty as his brain tries to push past the stinging.

"Four minutes," Monty hisses. "Now get busy!"

Spike's body slightly shudders as the door is slammed shut and he's finally alone. Using the toilet wasn't a big deal as he didn't have much in him at all to dispose of but it was always the look of his own battered and somewhat distorted reflection in the small plastic disc that was supposed to be a mirror that makes him shudder. It wasn't a clear reflection, more like something out of a b-rated horror flick, but it was enough to make him stop and think about trying to tackle Monty without some kind of weapon in his hand. However, he knows if he ever did think about starting a fight he'd have to know it would be a fight to the death for if Monty got the upper hand, his beating would be merciless. That was something in his current condition he didn't want to change for he wasn't about to die for this lunatic.

"One minute Michelangelo!" Monty shouts, making Spike's face wince at the mention of his first name spoke with such contempt. He pulls the door open and then looks at Monty with a frown.

"Can I have eggs for breakfast?"

Monty just shakes his head as his thick fingers grab a handful of Spike's dirty sweater and pull him forward, so their noses are almost tip to tip. "If I break your hands what would you eat with?" Monty snarls and Spike's throat instantly tries to swallow the dry lump that had formed. "Ask me again and I will break your hands. Well one of them at least. You don't need both, not for what I have in mind...just one!"

"Okay."

"What's that?" Monty demands, his whiskey and cigarette tainted breath foul on Spike's face.

"No eggs," Spike slightly frowns.

"How long to you think it'll take your team…the great SRU to know YOU ARE MISSING!" Monty shouts as he lets go of Spike and watches with a smirk as Spike's shaky legs nearly drop to the floor from physical exhaustion and malnourishment. "I am guessing not until they hear from me," Monty chides as he shoves Spike toward a nearby chair and heads for the kitchen alcove nearby; Spike's head instantly swiveling to the right, spying the exit door.

MOVE…GO…GO NOW! His brain commands. Spike gives his distracted captor a one second glance before he quickly stands up and then tries, with all the energy he could summon to bolt for the door. Fate however, wasn't about to give him any breaks.

*BANG*

"Ahhhh!" Spike's lips cry out as his left hand instantly clutches the area on his right arm where Monty's gun had grazed him; his body stumbling toward the ground.

"Damn you are willful!" Monty just shakes his head as he marches up to Spike who was kneeling by the car watching with a panicked expression as his obviously insane captor rushes up with the gun fixed firmly in his fingers. "You want to try it a again? I missed on purpose…I might NOT NEXT TIME!" Monty shouts, his fingers grasping some dark, dust filled locks and holding Spike's head in place.

"I don't…want to go back…in that chair," Spike lightly pleads, his mind flashing him images that were now ingrained into his subconscious.

"I don't care what you want!" Monty growls as he waves the gun in front of his face. "The only reason you are alive and can even walk without help is that I need that as part of my plan. This..." he nudges the open wound with the end of the gun, making Spike's face wince with newfound pain, "was a small taste. My plan doesn't include asking what you want. So yes you'll go back in the chair and stay there for the REST OF THE DAY!"

"Did you do this to Dylan also?" Spike asks softly, watching as Monty stops his actions and his fists curl into tight balls as Spike readies himself; his two fists, one of them bloody moving into defensive positions.

"Never…mention his name," Monty hisses as his head instantly fills with Dylan's laughs and then haunting screams. "NEVER!"

"You strap him into that chair?" Spike continues, finishing his question with a small cough. "Beat him or shoot him or..."

"I killed him. That's all you need to know."

"Why?"

"I had my reasons so shut up now."

"He musta had…something on you."

"Actually…I have something on him!"

Monty turns around sharply and then looks at Spike with a narrowed gaze before he rushes over to the table below the picture board of Greg, pulls out a picture and then brings it to Spike, shoving it in his hands and then stepping back with a triumphant smile.

"Is this what you wanted?"

Spike feels his stomach automatically lurch as he looks at a picture, obviously a screen shot from a recording device of the charred face of what used to be a man. "Dylan?"

"Might be you very soon," Monty snickers as he grabs the picture away from Spike and then glares at him angrily.

"Who is...was he?"

"No..."

"WHO!" Spike yells as he coughs once more. "Your brother right?"

"You'll be dead soon...dead," Monty chants, turning away so he didn't have to face Spike.

"You murdered your own...burnt him alive?" Spike asks weakly.

"SHUT UP!" Monty turns back and shouts. "He's dead and so will you be! That's all you need to think about right now!"

"Why?"

Monty doesn't answer and Spike knows he's already treading thin ice, a few more pointed questions would garner him trouble for sure.

"Ask me again and I will just slit your throat right here," Monty vows under his breath, his tense back still to his stubborn captive. "You will die," he utters matter of factly, getting his emotions under control for a few seconds. "You will die!" He then adds with a distinct shout.

"No…my team…will find me," Spike insistently aruges back.

"In time?" Monty counters with an angry sneer.

"Yes," Spike nods which only angers his demented captor further.

"Why the hell can't you just accept YOUR FATE!" Monty shouts, childishly pounding his fists on the nearby counter before he turns back to Spike with hatred flashing in his souless black orbs. "WHY!"

Spike looks at him squarely and then confesses in a very tormented but matter of factly tone. "Because…I don't want to die."

"Well you will!" Monty shouts as he rushes back up to him with anger coursing through his tense veins before he takes out his agression on his already aching captive. Insolence always has a price and Spike was about to pay it.

XXXXXXXX

"So you think Spike is really sick?" Ed asks Greg in a quiet undertone as the rest of the team discusses the plan for the day.

"You think he's more shaken by this accident thing than he's letting on?" Greg asks Ed with a frown.

"Maybe. Guy comes to offer help at an accident and then leaves you to suffer."

"Would it shake you up?" Greg counters, getting a small shake of denial from his team lead. "I'm gonna give him the benefit of the doubt for the day and call later. Otherwise I can just hear mamma Scarlatti on the phone…'why can't you let my boy have one sick day when he says he's sick'," Greg's sentence ends with a smirk. "Besides, I think he's earned it. But I will call his cell later just to check in on him."

"Okay," Ed agrees as they both head back to the team to get the day started. Greg heads for the locker to get himself geared up but instead of his mind focusing on the call just announced, his mind flashes back to the call he had gotten regarding Monty.

Greg gives his head a shake and then follows after the team, determined to not let Monty's sordid memories win out in the next twenty-four hours. But during the next few hours on the job, his mind is still torn inside between wondering how Spike is feeling and pushing past memories of Monty Glennon's unfortunate and grisly death; never guessing that the two people he was thinking about were actually together – one against his will and one plotting his demise.

XXXXXXXX

By the time the working day had come to a close, Spike's mind was racing in circles with so many mixed messages that when he was loosed from the chair for a small break, he just remains in place with his eyes closed; his arms too tired to lift up and remove the gag from his mouth. His body is aching, chest and ribs throbbing, head pounding, throat dry and his mind telling him that maybe help isn't coming.

Kill…hate…mission…kill Greg…must obey…kill Parker…must succeed…kill…must not fail…

Spike shakes his head, willing the words to leave and wondering why some things seem so clear and others were starting to fade into the background; important things such as his family and friends.

'You'll always be just a geek with no combat skills,' Ed's angry voice taunts.

'My sister will never like you long term, you're not good enough,' Sam's angry voice is next.

'You still live at home? Man that's lame,' Raf's voice is next.

'Seriously Spike I don't get it…you are so inept sometimes,' Jules was next and then…

'You disappoint me Spike…maybe I made a mistake in choosing you.'

"No…not possible," Spike utters, the gag now removed, his watery eyes blinking away frustrated tears as looks up to see Monty watching him with vested interest. His crule captor hadn't bandaged his arm, just left the chewed up skin to slowly seep blood until it had clotted with the help of Spike's dirty and sweat soaked sweater.

"What did…you do? What's in those…movies?" Spike asks in torment.

"Aww poor little Spike…you finally seeing the truth now?" Monty asks sharply.

"Lies…all lies," Spike insists as he shakes his head and then stops when the dizzying starts up again.

"I promise I will make it all better tomorrow," Monty pats his wounded arm, sending new painful shockwaves up his tired limb. "Everything will be all better tomorrow."

"Why?"

"Tomorrow is special. Do you know what tomorrow is Spike? I mean you're a special guy right? Very smart?" Monty mocks. "You tell me what is so special about tomorrow!"

"The day…your death…anniversary," Spike whispers with a dry throat, his body eagerly begging for something of substance to put inside to keep him from feeling like he's caving in on himself.

"Very good and yes that is tomorrow," Monty smiles as his fingers idly strum each other. He slightly cocks his head and looks at Spike with a frown before he pulls a small instrument and snickers when Spike actually flinches and pulls back into the chair.

"What...is that?"

"Something you can't resist in your condition. Okay let's see how this works. See this item," Monty holds up a key. "Look at it very closely…"

XXXXXXXX

"You calling Spike?" Jules asks Greg as they finish up in the team room after Greg had dismissed the rest of the team.

"Yeah it's been the day and I'm hoping he just rested and played video games or…whatever," Greg smirks. "I'm sure he's fine."

"And you? Things okay with Marina?"

"Yeah…she's great. Still waiting for the bottom to drop out but um…well think that's more of a force of habit than anything."

"I think she'll surprise you," Jules smiles as she stands up to leave, patting Greg's hand before she exits the room. Greg's smile lingers as he dials Spike's cell number and waits for it to connect.

"Hey buddy it's me, Greg," Greg talks to Spike's voice mail. "I hope you're okay but um…well call me back as soon as you get this message okay?"

Since Monty had already destroyed Spike's phone so that it couldn't be traced, he wasn't able to see the call coming through, not realizing that part of his plan was about to be foiled. Greg looks at the phone and then ponders calling Spike's home number but tells himself to wait about an hour and then call if Spike still hadn't.

"No answer?" Ed's concerned voice makes itself known as Greg stands up to leave.

"I tried his cell. I'll wait an hour and then call his home number. I'm sure everything is fine."

"Yeah…I'm sure," Ed states with a tight lipped smile.

"Talk to me Eddie, I don't like that look."

"You've been distracted again. You missed the guy at the door and that's not like you. Now I know it's not Marina because there is no smile associated with it. What gives? The date you told me about tomorrow or something else?"

"The date," Greg huffs. "Ten years…lotta memories tied up with this one and none of them good."

"Greg you picked yourself up after all that and turned your life around," Ed insists. "You have that to hold onto, that's a good memory."

"Yeah I know," Greg gives his team lead and friend a rather fake smile.

"Right. Tell you what. Go see Marina and I'll try Spike in an hour. Should be time enough for his mother to feed him two helpings of that famous lasagna," Ed smiles.

"Thanks."

Greg takes his leave, feeling a bit better that Eddie would check on Spike and let him know what was going on with his bomb tech. Despite the fact that he's more than tired, his brain automatically tells him to go to Marina and that even if they just talked or had coffee, it was better than going home just yet when he is too tired to sleep.

Hope you're better tomorrow Spike, Greg's mind offers as he heads for Marina's office.

XXXXXXXX

"See Spike wasn't that fun?" Monty smiles broadly as he and Spike stand face to face in the middle of Spike's small cell like room; the empty gun still clutched in Spike's silghtly trembling fingers.

"What did…" Spike frowns as his brain tries to register what he just did. "What did...you do?"

"No, it's what did you just do?"

"But..."

"You just did what I told you to do. Didn't it make you feel all better?"

"No…" Spike shakes his head as he tries to swallow.

"Rest up now Spike," Monty slaps him on the back. "We have a big day tomorrow."

"But..." Spike tries to protest as Monty pushes him up against the wall and leans agains him.

"Your fate is sealed," Monty hisses in his ear as he painfully forces one of Spike's wrists behind his back, the weakened SRU officer to weak to now fight his captor's moves. "I was able to dodge mine," he states with a small hint of glee as he pulls Spike's other wrist behind his back and cuffs them in place. "But you won't be so lucky."

"You dont...have to do this," Spike tries to plead.

"I know," Monty smiles as he turns Spike around to face him. "But I want to."

With that Monty pushes Spike back onto the bed, cuffs his ankle as well and leaves Spike in his bound state to ponder his unstoppable fate tomorrow at his demented captor's hands. Spike closes his eyes and just shakes his head, praying that his team will discover he's missing before this plan can go into effect.

Monty stops at the table where his pay as you go phone was waiting and then looks down at Greg's number. "I hope you like your wakeup call tomorrow," Monty laughs softly as he saves the draft text message to send to Greg the next day.

Despite his pain, Spike continues struggles in vain on the small mattress as his brain tries to register what he just did. He tries to replay it in his mind but it was to no avail, he was powerless; a helpless spectator in his own nightmarish-like hell. What the hell is going to happen tomorrow? Spike's mind wonder in terror. Greg...help me.

XXXXXXXX

"Mrs. Scarlatti? Ed Lane here," Ed asks as Michelina Scarlatti comes on the phone; Spike not having called Greg and was not answering his cell. "Can I talk to Spike please?"

"No he's not home. Not since the weekend."

"The weekend? Huh…okay do you know where he is?" Ed wonders, hoping the rising panic in his voice is masked to the overly paranoid parent of his friend and fellow team member.

"He spent the weekend with his girlfriend," she pauses. "Natalie something…"

"Braddock," Ed whispers, mostly to himself.

"I think maybe he likes this girl, to not come home or to call."

"Yeah maybe it's love," Ed lightly jokes with an uneasy tone. "Well am sure he'll be home soon."

"Do you know if he's left work yet? I have supper waiting and we always have his favorite on Monday."

"I'll um…check. Okay thanks," Ed rushes to end the call and then calls Sam to get Natalie's number.

"Let me call her," Sam suggests.

"If Spike is with her, we don't want things to get complicated Sam."

"I can be professional. But do you really think he'd call in sick to hang with my sister?" Sam asks in surprise.

"No," Ed sighs. "No I don't. Sam…the number."

Ed takes the number and then dials, his inner tension starting to build. Was Spike playing a game? Why call in sick? Why not tell his family? Why not just take a personal day? He was allowed them. "Is this Natalie Braddock?"

"Yeah…who's…Ed Lane? I…hey you're on Spike's team right?"

"I am. Is he…"

"Is he okay?"

Both of them ask at once.

"What? I thought he was with you," Ed replies with a frown.

"No. We um…were supposed to hang on Saturday but I got a text from him saying he was sick and that was it. Why are you calling me? Is he okay?"

"Yeah he uh…I just needed to check something. Okay thanks Natalie."

Ed offers a small curse under his breath as he quickly calls Greg. "Sorry boss but we have a problem."

"Hey Eddie…what's going on?"

"Spike's missing. I called home and they said he was with Natalie Braddock all weekend and not been home since and I just called Natalie and she said Spike texted her Saturday that he was sick and couldn't make it and she hasn't heard or seen him since. Boss it's not like Spike to play games like this. So where the hell is he?"

"And who the hell called in this morning?"

A/N: Okay so where will the team start looking? And what will happen when Greg gets Monty's message? And can Spike somehow foil Monty's plan or will it be game over for him? Lots a head so please review and thanks so much in advance and stay tuned!