Friends! I'm so sorry! I totally forgot to post yesterday! I completely forgot what day it was. Life is a little crazy right now.
Mistiquecats: Thank you! Davey isn't too happy about it, but I'm sure he appreciates your support!
MyHeadIsSpinning: I know. Those poor trainees. None of them are going to show up tomorrow. :(. Thank you so much!
The French Waffle: I just don't know... I can honestly write worse scenes too, that's the actual problem with this. But thanks for reviewing!
Guest: Oh my gosh, I love it! That's one of my favorite lines for Davey too. It's fantastic.
Cat238: Thank you so much! (It was probably just a glitch, but if anyone is using a profile picture of art that is not yours, please remove it! It is not yours to claim! Thank you!)
Alright! Please enjoy!
David blinked hard, trying to focus more than he'd ever focused on anything in his entire life. "The man who grabbed you, what did he look like? Can you describe him for me?" he asked the boy on the other end of the line.
Sheer terror rushed through Race's heart as he thought about the man again; the man sitting in the front seat, taking him away from everything he'd ever known into a mysterious future that he didn't want to predict. He didn't want to die.
At the boy's hesitation, David continued on. He needed this information. "C'mon, Race. You can do it. Was he White, Black, Asian, Hispanic-"
"White! He w's White..." Race cut in, remembering at least that much. "He... he was dressed normal... I think," he continued, his face soaked through with tears he realized, as he ran his hand down over his cheeks.
Okay, at least they were getting somewhere. "Okay, normal. What does that mean kiddo? Was he wearing a sweatshirt? Jeans?"
"Sunglasses!" he cried as he remembered. Dark sunglasses. Race couldn't really see his face. He didn't know who it was. "He was wearing sunglasses..."
It was more than nothing. For the state the kid was in, it was a miracle David was getting this far. He was grateful for any piece of information he got. "Good! That's good, Tyler! Can you guess his age for me?" he asked, typing rapidly on his keyboard. "Twenties? Thirties? Forties?"
The boy took in a shaky breath. "Th-thirties... like mid... mid-thirties!" he decided, clutching the phone so tightly in his hand. He didn't want to look around him. He was afraid of what he might find. He knew there were things sitting beside him, though. But he was not about to let his curiosity win out right now.
Information was coming. He could do this. They could find him. "Okay, and the car, what color was the car?"
This was so hard. Race still couldn't really think. He still couldn't really breathe. "Uhm... grey... or s-silver... silver. It's silver..." The sobs were coming back. He was getting farther and farther away from home. Away from his brothers. He didn't even know how long it had been since he'd been taken.
"Two doors or four doors?"
"F-four, I think..." Race stuttered out. His voice going watery all over again. He felt weaker than he'd ever felt in his life. "Please get Jack... just... please?"
"We are gonna get you back ta Jack, buddy. We will. But you have to stay calm. Take a breath as deep as you can for me, okay?" David urged again, typing up all the information. Getting ready to put out an amber alert. It was something. "What time was it when you were at the mall?"
Race sucked in a breath. He couldn't remember. The last time he checked his phone was when Jack had called him. "I dunno..." he whimpered. "It was after four... maybe four fifteen?"
The operator nodded. He could work with this. "You're doing great, buddy! Hang in there. Keep breathing, for me. It's gonna be quiet for a second, alright? Just keep breathing..." he encouraged, not even waiting for a response before hitting the mute button and switching the headset from the phone to the radio.
"All available units, we have a kidnap in progress," he began urgently, simultaneously looking at his computer and scrolling through so many numbers before he came to the one he needed for this crime. 207. Kidnap. "Male abducted at Manhattan Mall approximately 25 minutes ago. White male 30s, in a four-door silver, unknown make, model. PR's in the trunk on a disposable phone." His voice was almost robotic as he recited the information that he assumed would forever be burned into his brain. "Any available units code three!" Then it was over. He hadn't expected his heart to stop at the immediate response he got.
"Eight-Adam-Sixteen en route, code three," came a smooth, familiar, New York influenced voice.
"Shit," David muttered, not having the heart to give the PR's name as the voice continued on.
"It's good ta hear your voice again, Davey."
Jack.
He didn't have time to be angry at the world for making all of this happen. Fate was a bitch. But that wasn't what was important right now. What was important was the boy on the other end of the call, panicking all the more as he cried out for David to just please answer him. "Hey, hey, I'm here, kiddo... I'm gettin' the police. They're gonna find you, but you have to stay calm..." It was so much to ask and they both knew it. "Now, can you tell me if you're on a surface street or a freeway?"
Tyler let out another sob at another question. He didn't know. How could he? He was in the midst of a full fledged panic attack. But just as he might've answered that question, or tried to, the device in his hand began vibrating again. "No, no..." he whispered frantically as the thing began making so much more noise. Phones weren't supposed to make that much noise if he was already on the phone. "Shhh!" he pleaded with the thing.
"Tyler, what's happening?" David asked, his fear betraying him for a moment and shining through in his words.
The child just let out another sob as another loud song sounded through his small prison. "It's an-nother call! God, it's Ronnie! He's gonna hear it ringing!" Race all but screamed.
As if David hadn't already been scared enough for this child. "I think he heard the phone ring!" The man was about to throw up. "No no no no no! Tyler you do not answer that!" he demanded frantically, wishing beyond anything that he could somehow reach through that phone and put a comforting hand on the kid's shoulder, do anything to calm him down. "You do not break contact with me. I cannot lose you. Stay on the line, okay?" he pleaded, not ready to tell an old friend that he'd lost one of his baby brothers. Not willing to break that man all over again. "Stay on the line and breathe... it's okay..."
Barely listening, Race gripped his own hair again, taking in sharp, shallow breaths. "This can't be happening..." he breathed out through gasps of air. His throat was tight. It hurt to breathe.
"Tyler, I need you to focus. Are those tires going fast or slow?" Focus. Focusing was hard even when the boy could think straight. But he had to try. Though, he felt even more helpless when he couldn't.
"I-I don't... I don't know, I'm sorry!" Race cried out, hitting the side of the trunk in frustration. It didn't help. Not even a little.
This was so goddamn hard. Why had he chosen this job? Why was this his responsibility? "Does it sound like a freeway, kiddo?"
The boy groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, holding his breath for a moment as he listened intently to everything around him. The music was familiar. Old music. Stuff that Medda liked to listen to — his neighbor. Fifties or sixties music. He couldn't hear much other than that. Just the sound of wind really. But he supposed they hadn't stopped in a while. Freeways didn't have stoplights. "I-it might be a freeway..." he concluded, taking in a deep, shaken gasp of air.
"Good boy! You're doing so good, Tyler! Stay on the line, okay?" Again, David tapped mute before the child could even respond. "All available units! PR believes they're on freeway. Direction unknown." Immediately he was back on with Tyler. The boy was still sobbing. If he didn't calm down, he really would pass out. "Okay, buddy, can you tell me if the trunk smells like a new car or an old one?" he asked, almost hopefully.
Race sniffled. "Uhm..." There was no hope of his voice sounding calm anymore. It shook with every syllable, ringing out the fear inside him. "It... older, I think..."
David nodded, an idea popping into his head. "Okay, in older cars there should be access to the taillights. Look for the red glow, buddy." His heart was beating so rapidly in his chest. He'd rather be in this child's place than be trying to talk him through this.
For a moment, David chanced a look around him. He regretted it the moment he dared to do it. If they weren't on a phone call, they were watching him with wide eyes, waiting for whatever was to happen to happen. What was worse was that these people knew more than anyone that the ending they all desperately wished to have wouldn't be revealed to them until it was revealed to the rest of the world.
With one more glance at his supervisor who had every right to be watching him like a hawk, worry in his eyes, David turned back to his computer. "Do you see it, kid?"
"Yeah... yeah I see it..." came the shaken, watery response.
A small smile played at the operators lips. He hated to ask the kid to do this, but this could work. He could get the kid out of there. "Alright! You're doin' great, Racer! Now, I need you to knock that taillight out and make a hole. Can you do that for me?" he asked gently, knowing this boy was already terrified of drawing his captor's focus back on him.
A small gasp left Race's lips at the thought. "No... no! I can't! David... he'll hear me..." Words we're just stumbling out of his mouth now. Nothing in the world could've prepared him for this. He just wanted out. "I don't wanna die..."
"Race, we have ta try. You have to fight to get back to Jack, remember? You can do this..." he coaxed. Oh God, how was he supposed to tell Jack about this? There's no way he could know at this point. If he'd known, he wouldn't have sounded so happy to hear David over the radio.
The man on the phone was right. Race let out a breath. "Yeah... okay, okay... I can try..." he decided, switching the phone over to his left hand and desperately wiping at his face. More tears only fell to soak his cheeks all over again. He took a breath, as deep as he could, finally daring to take a glance around. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion when he caught sight of at least four cans of paint. Work equipment filled the back of the trunk. Nothing he thought would be too useful. So he turned back to the dim red glow that David instructed him to look for. With all the strength he had, he pounded his fist on it.
"The carrier got our request." David whipped around at his superior's voice, immediately muting himself, not wanting Tyler to hear anything he didn't need to. "We're just waiting for them to call back." It was supposed to be good news, meant for relief. If anything, it only made David all the more agitated.
He shook his head. "We can't wait, Darcy! This kid is barely breathing. We need to get him out of there!" he cried, sniffling a little and turning back to his station. This kid was strong, but he wouldn't last too long with the way he was panicking.
All Darcy could do was shrug helplessly. "You know how those prepaid's work. It could be within a five mile radius..." It wasn't ideal. But it was what they had. It was the best they could do for this child. "Just keep doing what you're doing..." he encouraged, nodding at the other man who let his face rest in his hands for a second. He had faith in David Jacobs. He was one of the best. He wouldn't have trusted anyone else with a case like this at the moment.
Going back to the boy was difficult. He hated how he could still hear the boy whimpering and whining and begging the taillight to just give way. He clicked the button again, wanting to be heard by the kid who he wished he could calm down. "Tyler, how are you doing, kid?"
"I can't get it!" Tyler cried out, angry at himself. Angry at the world. He just wanted a break. He just wanted to see his brothers again.
David shook his head. "Try the other one, pal! Fast as you can, okay?"
A cry escaped the boy. He couldn't turn around in that small trunk. He could barely move at all. He turned to start hitting things again. He knew it wouldn't help. He knew Jack had broken his hand trying to take his anger out on a wall. But it seemed like all he could think to do. Though, the second he turned, he felt his back lay over something that had slid closer to him as he tried to knock the light out of its place. He grabbed it immediately. It was a paint roller. Metal.
In a last desperate attempt to follow directions, something that had never truly been easy for him, the boy took the end of the tool and with all his might shoved it at the red glowing light by his head. He almost screamed when the thing began to give way.
"I got it! I got it!" David smiled in spite of the entire situation at that relieved sob he received from a boy that had so much life ahead of him.
"You got it!" he laughed out nervously, running another hand through his hair. "You got it, Tyler! Now look out that hole and tell me what you see," he instructed. This could work. They could find him. Maybe it could just be that simple.
The fresh air felt good, despite the noise that filled up the trunk. He felt like it was a little easier to breathe now. "It's a freeway!" he informed a little more frantically. Freeway meant faster. Freeway meant he could be anywhere by now. They weren't even stuck in Manhattan traffic. They were moving quick. "I... I don't know where we are! None of it looks familiar!" he sobbed. It was just a highway. There were plenty of other cars behind him, but he'd never seen any of the landscapes before.
"Okay! Okay! It's okay! Here's what I need ya to do," David soothed quickly. He hated to ask the boy to do this. It was dangerous. He couldn't see the car. He didn't know how big that hole would be. He didn't have too much to go on. But it was worth a shot. "I need you to slip your arm through that hole, and wave it, wave it, wave it, alright?"
A groan sounded throughout the small space Race was trapped in. "I-I can't... I'll break my arm..." He couldn't break his arm. Not now. Things were supposed to be going right for him right now.
David sighed. "You won't, Tyler... if someone sees you wavin' your hand like that, we'll be able to find you," he explained. A broken arm would heal. A lost life could not be replaced. He scrolled over the boy's file slowly as he continued to try and persuade him. That's when it clicked. But it wasn't something he saw. It was a conversation with Jack that made him remember. Tyler was a piano and guitar player. A very talented kid by the sounds of it. But it didn't matter at the moment. David's job was keeping him alive. "I'm trying to get you back to Jack, kiddo. You have to fight for me, here... can you do that?"
Jack. Race squeezed his eyes shut again, imagining his big brother was there, arms around him immediately after the trunk was opened. He wanted Jack. He wanted his big brother. "Okay... okay... I'm wavin'... I'm wavin'..." he said as he carefully reached through the hole. It was just big enough for his arm. And he waved like his life depended on it.
Because it did.
"Good boy! Yes, Tyler!" David praised before hitting the mute harder than he needed to. "I've got a PR waving his arm out the back of a trunk! Let's see if we get a call!" he announced, before immediately turning back and clicking that button again, knowing the boy was terrified of being alone in this situation. "Keep breathing, Racer. You can do this..."
The boy kept waving, praying for the first time in his small life. He didn't even know how this worked. He was basically just begging the universe to let him survive this situation. It wasn't common. He knew that. His brother was a cop after all.
The hive was tense and David could feel it. It was terrifying how everyone was watching him every second they got. But he didn't have time to dwell on it. All he could keep doing was gently speaking to the child being taken away from everything he knew.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"Yeah, there's someone stuck in the trunk of the car in front of me. A silver Camry. I think it might be a child..."
Specs shot up from his seat, his hand in the air. "Yo! I got him!"
Relief flooded through David's veins. "We're so close, Racer. Hang in there. Jack's coming..."
Tears spilled down Race's cheeks all over again at his brother's name. "I'm wavin... I'm wavin'..."
With a rush of determination that Spec's felt run through every inch of his being, he turned back to his own monitors. "Ma'am, what road are you on?" he asked, too serious for her not to answer immediately.
"The seventy eight towards Jersey..." she informed, sounding a bit hesitant.
Specs nodded, looking towards his coworker who only stared back at him with so much hope in his eyes. "Can you get the license plate number for me?"
The woman stared straight ahead of her, wondering what on earth was going on, unable to even dwell on the fact that her own kids were strapped in behind her, too young to even realize the danger of the situation. They were asking her questions. She didn't respond. She just had ears for the operator on the other end of the line. "7CFI06X..." she read off, her heart breaking at the thought of a child being trapped like that.
"Thank you!" Specs cried, typing the number into the system, urging the thing to work as fast as it could possibly go. He barely had time to notice Darcy behind him as the picture of their suspected kidnapper loaded painfully slow on the screen, only earning a disappointed growl when the thing became clear.
Unless their perp was an sixty seven year old woman with white hair and a worn smile, they were screwed.
"Stolen vehicle?" Darcy questioned, leaning in a bit closer to take a hard look at the screen. If it was stolen, they might still be able to track it somehow.
Only Specs shook his head. "This license plate belongs to a white Ford Explorer. He switched the damn plates!" This guy was smart. He was playing them.
This poor kid...
David watched the scene with wide eyes, not knowing what to say anymore in response to the frantic whispers a terrified child was rushing out in attempts to ground himself. All he could offer him was the occasional hush and a soft, "breathe, kiddo..." It wasn't enough. He knew it wasn't enough.
On the road, the woman could barely hear what was going on. Whoever she was speaking to had lost his rush of excitement and relief and was now sounding more deflated, though she didn't supposed he was even talking to her anymore. "Do you need a description?" she asked, changing lanes in hopes of pulling up beside the car in front of her. She didn't wait for a response. She just did it.
"No!" Specs cried out. "Ma'am! Do not approach the vehicle! That man is suspected for kidnapping!" Though he had an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach. The woman wasn't listening to him.
The deafening music playing around him was necessary. Not only that, it kept him focused for the time being. No use doing this if he was going to get caught in a car crash on his way to his escape. Adrenaline rushed through him. He felt more alive than he had in a year. It was almost too easy. Now he just had to make it.
His body was shaking with nerves and the adrenaline rush he felt. His heart was pounding in his chest. It felt like he was panicking, but he couldn't quite identify it as that. It was hot. He knew that much. But it would be fine. As long as no one heard the boy laying helplessly behind him.
Though, his confidence was crushed when he caught sight of a minivan pulling up beside him, a woman inside, leaning forward in her seat in order to get a better look at him. His lips immediately found a familiar scowl as he let instinct take over. He pushed the gas petal down to the floor, feeling the whole vehicle jerk backwards before he began passing every car around him, heading directly for the next exit he narrowly got off on.
"He's getting off!"
Specs slammed down on the desk in front of him, both hands stinging at the impact. "What exit?!" he demanded.
I honestly don't know anything about how any of the streets in New York work. So let's just pretend that I know what I'm talking about. Thank you!
As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, friends!