Slap!
"Where is he?" Greg seethed angrily, from behind a mask of his own.
He had Blackford pinned down to the very same table that Raphael had woken up on, and he was growing more infuriated with the man as every minute passed. Leonardo was standing coolly nearby, but had yet to actually interject anything yet. Around twenty minutes had passed, and so far Blackford hadn't uttered a single syllable, except for laughing outright.
Greg swore, and backhanded the man harder. "I can do this all day, I don't care how long it takes! Where is he?"
Blackford eyed the way Leonardo was still standing back, and laughed scornfully again. "You were pretty quick, but not fast enough." He said impishly. "Elvis has left the building."
"We can see that!" Greg punctuated the last word with another firm palm strike across the man's face. "Tell me where he is!"
He was so sick of listening to the man's laughter, and rolled his eyes heavenward as Blackford refused to say anything further.
We're not gonna get anywhere at this rate. I've gotta switch this tactic up.
Greg turned his back on Blackford for a moment, walking over to Leonardo. "Leo, I'm gonna need a couple of minutes with him." He said quietly, so only the turtle could hear.
"You want me to leave?" The turtle whispered back flatly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Why Heff?"
"Because he knows stuff about Raph. Do you want to get him back, or don't you?"
Leonardo steely gaze bore into him for a minute, hesitating. "Don't do anything permanent."
"We'll see how it plays out."
"Greg."
"Leo."
"Fine - but I'm coming back in ten minutes." The turtle finished insistently.
"I won't need that long Leo. I'll call you in a little bit, okay?"
Muttering something unintelligible under his breath, Leonardo walked out of the room, and Greg resumed his position beside Blackford.
"Now. Where were we?" Greg said evenly. "Since you don't feel like talking right now, I figured I'd share a few things with you myself. The truth is, I'd normally tell you that you have a lot more to fear from the turtles than you do someone like me. They could kick my tail in a fair fight any day of the week. But the fact is, they operate according to a strict code of honor, which prohibits them from torturing, maiming, or otherwise killing an enemy once they already have them contained.
Based on your behavior, it seems that you're well aware of the particular process. You know that they're not really gonna do anything to you, not while you aren't posing an active threat. What you obviously don't know, is that I don't subscribe to the same regulations that they do. In other words, I could make the next ten hours of your existence the most painful you've ever faced, and I'll still lay my head down tonight, and sleep like a baby."
As he finished the statement, he brought his hand to bear inside of Blackford's collarbone, sharply twisting the pressure point. He held on firmly, and then continued talking.
"I've run out of patience with you scum, and now I'm ready to teach you the true meaning of pain. You're sure tough when you've got your guns and you boys surrounding you - but let's see how strong you are when it comes down to just little 'ol you and me. You know, there are a lot of theories out there, circling around the most painful bone in the human body that you can break. Nobody seems to agree to a consensus on anything, so I thought it would be fun to test it out for myself today.
I encourage you to be completely honest in your pain assessment. Where would you like me to start Blackford? I'm thinking I'd like to begin with the smallest bone, perhaps just work my way up from there. One at a time, this should certainly take awhile. I won't break them all of course, don't get me wrong. I don't want you dying on me before I've gotten everything that I want out of you."
Greg leaned an even firmer grip on the point, hovering inches now from the man's trembling form.
"I'll just break everything that isn't absolutely vital to keeping you alive. Whatever's left over after that, I'll bury so far underground that the heat from the earth's core will completely incinerate your sorry remains."
He unexpectedly released his grip on Blackford's collarbone, and walked around to the end of the table. Unlacing one of the man's boots, Greg gave him a slightly sadistic smile. "Shall we get started then?"
"No!" The guttural cry leaped from the man's throat before he could contain it. "Please, I...I don't know where he is!"
"That's not what I want to hear Blackford." Greg said calmly, yanking the boot off entirely. His fingers probed over his ankle for an instant, before locating another pressure point. "Did you know that each of our feet is made of twenty-six separate bones? I imagine it would take me an hour just to complete both of them."
"I'm telling you, I don't know where he is!" Blackford bellowed insistently. "I'm a middle man, a bounty hunter! I bag 'em, hand 'em over, and I get paid! That's it! I don't know anything about what happens next!"
"I want a name Blackford, and this is your last chance. Who purchased Raphael from you?"
"Stolle, the guy's name is Isaac Stolle! I don't know where he lives, what he does, nothing! I never even met the guy in person until today! We talked over the phone, and the internet!"
"When did he take Raphael?"
"He's been gone...probably close to three hours now! The turtle was still alive, I swear!"
Greg stared the man down hard for several seconds, further terrorizing him.
"Please, it's true! I don't know where he was going from here, he's a private guy! He wouldn't have given me information like that! I can't tell you anything else!"
Greg nodded slightly. He felt strongly that the man was telling the truth, and he remembered the name of Stolle as being mentioned by Luke in connection with his recent kidnaping.
So his suspicion of all this all tracing back to Vale's circle was absolutely right on, Greg thought morosely.
He lightly patted Blackford's cheek with a grin. "That wasn't so hard, now was it? Oh, but there is one more thing."
Greg's hand went instantly around Blackford's throat, constricting like a vise. "If you ever come around these turtles or Luke Barrows again, I will find you, and I won't be as easy on you. Do we have an understanding? No, I realize you can't talk." Greg said with an unruly smile. "Just blink your eyes a couple of times for me."
He turned the man loose with a rough jerk after a moment, and trotted back to the doorway. "Hey Leo, I'm done. Told you it wouldn't take that long."
Donatello had been searching through Blackford's cell-phone, systematically testing phone numbers. The last call the phone had made was a few hours ago, and has lasted a duration of about six minutes. But when Donnie attempted to dial the number himself, he only received a message informing him that the phone couldn't receive any calls.
It's probably connected to a disposable cell, he thought with disappointment. Oh well, at least it sounds like Greg managed to get something out of that freak.
He glanced up to meet Doc's gaze, which he felt had been on him for the last few minutes now.
"The number's not working Luke." He told him. "But it was certainly operating a few hours ago. There have been a number of calls to this same number, over the course of the last few days."
"But now it's vanished," Luke said angrily. "Along with Raphael!"
"We're gonna find him Doc." Michelangelo said determinedly. "It seemed pretty impossible when we lost all sight of you too...but here you are."
"Yes, because you and Leo ended up getting caught! And now we don't even have his implant to go off of!" Luke exclaimed in frustration.
"No, but we do have a name." Greg announced as he re-entered the room with Leonardo at his side. "Isaac Stolle."
Luke instantly paled, a tremor running all the way down his spine. "I was actually hoping that I wasn't right on that count." He murmured, backing against the wall for support. "Oh my word...he's crazy. All of Vale's guys thought so! Why did it have to be him?"
"It's something to go off of." Leonardo said quietly, reaching out a firm hand to try and steady Luke. "And if he wanted Raph dead, he probably wouldn't have paid all that money for the Hunters to bring him in alive. We're gonna get him back Doc."
"What do we do now?" Mike asked swiftly.
"We head back to the city." Greg replied. "I'll get myself into the Bureau records, search for anything we have available on Stolle. Donnie, grab that laptop. Blackford said that he and Stolle communicated over the internet, there's probably some stuff you can retrieve off it."
"How did you get him to talk Heff?" Donatello asked curiously. "Leo said he was shut as tight as a steel trap."
"Is he still breathin'?" Mike asked impishly.
"I didn't hurt him that bad." Greg said simply. "I just reasoned with him, made him hear the voice of logic."
"I suppose your methods would all have been government approved." Leonardo said, slightly tongue in cheek.
"As far as I'm concerned, this ain't even under their jurisdiction Leo. Desperate times...well, you know how the saying goes. We should get moving." Greg answered.
"We just gonna leave him that way?" Mike asked, motioning toward the room where Blackford was strapped to the table.
"I figured we could call Raph's favorite number for him on our way out." Greg muttered darkly.