Part 24 Not Again!
Steve looked directly at the barrel of the gun and attempted to keep his voice calm as he replied. "That's the second time someone from the NSA has threatened to shoot me," he said "Is there something in your training that tells you that's the best way to get information? By blowing people's brains out?"
"Sarcasm in the face of death? I'm impressed lieutenant." The gun did not waver as Stephanie spoke. "Looks like what I've read about you is true, but you need to understand that I am not bluffing. I have already killed at least five people to get to those files and I will not hesitate to kill again." She stepped closer. "And if it hadn't been for your interference then I probably would have them by now. So I would positively enjoy killing you after the trouble you have caused me." Her tone was light her movements graceful and yet she somehow came across as intimidating as any six foot thug that Steve had ever been called on to face. "So I ask you again lieutenant. Where are Mrs. Fielding and your father?"
"They left a couple of hours ago and they're not coming back. My father is taking Mrs. Fielding to somewhere safe." Steve replied not showing the fear that he felt. There was a cold detached air about this woman, he did not doubt her ability to take pleasure in killing
"Really?" Stephanie closed the last of the distance. She inspected Steve's bruised cheek, pressing the tip of the gun barrel against it. Steve flinched slightly.
"Yes," he said staring up into Stephanie's eyes; they were cold, there was no life in them. He pointed to the table, "They left me enough to keep me going until I felt better, then I was going to turn myself in for questioning, once they had a head start."
Stephanie ran the gun down the side of Steve's cheek as she looked down and inspected the dressing that she could see under Steve's unbuttoned shirt "I see," she said slowly, drawing out the words, using the barrel of the gun to push the shirt further apart. The touch was light, as that of a lover moving clothing aside to expose muscular flesh but the cold steel gently sliding over his skin held an icy menace far worse than harsh movements. She watched his face, clearly amused by his reaction.
If Steve had been in better shape he might have made an attempt to go for the gun, but the way he was feeling he knew that his reflexes were not up to it. Stephanie had her finger on the trigger and any false moves on his part would probably be suicidal.
Abruptly Stephanie struck him on the right shoulder. The blow was on the collar bone and not directly on the wound but it was enough to send a fireball of agony shooting out. Steve yelled out before he managed to bite back the reaction and he was left gasping in pain as Stephanie backed off watching him intently.
"Nice try lieutenant but I'm not buying it." She leveled the gun at him once more. "From what I've read about your father he wouldn't leave you alone with a wound like that for long.. So I ask you again. Where are they and how long before they return?"
"Go to Hell." Steve gasped out as he tried to steady his breathing.
"Oh, trust me lieutenant, that's not where I'm going, at least not yet but by the time I have finished with you, you may wish you were there." She sat in an armchair, "Until then I think I will just sit and wait. They'll be back soon enough and no one else knows that Detective Turner and I came here."
Steve decided to see if he could get some answers about what was going on, besides he needed a distraction. "So how did you find me?" He asked. Whilst he was speaking he slipped his hand into his pocket, finding the cell phone, he began pressing the necessary buttons to redial the last number called, grateful that he had brought the same make as his own so that he was familiar with the keypad.
"Your friend Doctor Travis told us you were here. Some lawyer rang him looking for your father so that he could ask if he knew anything about this cabin being used."
"But I thought you just said.."
"That no one knows we came here. I should have modified it to no one living." She looked at her watch. "Given the dose I used your good friend Dr. Travis should be dead by now." She grinned. "Cyanide is a most effective poison you know."
Steve felt sick. It couldn't be, she had to be lying, and yet every instinct in him told him that she was telling the truth, and if that were the case then she had poisoned Jesse so that he couldn't tell anyone else where they were and that meant that Jesse was probably..... Steve could not finish the thought instead he tried to focus on his own situation,
His only hope and, more importantly, the only hope for Emma and his father and the young detective lying only a few feet away, was that the call he had just made would be answered by someone who would realise what was going on. Someone who would send help. Otherwise the woman sitting across from him would kill all of them in an attempt to get what she wanted.
The doctor handed the phone back to Alison who automatically put it back to her ear but the line was already dead. Amanda had hung up and was on her way back to the hospital.
Alison let the phone fall to her side and stood and watched helplessly as Jesse's condition continued to deteriorate rapidly. One of the nurses had been dispatched at a run for the cyanide antidote, whilst the doctor and two other nurses fought to keep Jesse breathing. By the time the nurse returned he could no longer breath on his own and they were using a bag to force oxygen into his lungs.
It was another fifteen minutes of frantic activity before they were ready to move him. Alison started to follow but the doctor told her to wait. He would come back and talk to her when he could. Alison hung up the phone which, up to that point, she had gripped tightly in her hand. It took her three attempts to reseat it on it's cradle, then she sank down into the chair and simply stared at the place where Jesse's bed had been. How could circumstances change so quickly?
She was lost in thought, and it took a few moments for it to penetrate that the phone was ringing again. Thinking that it may be Amanda ringing for an update she picked it up and was about to speak when she heard slightly muffled voices. Her eyes widened as she recognised them and listened to the contents of the conversation.
Steve needed to get a conversation going so that if anyone answered his call they would have a chance of figuring out what was happening. "You can sit here as long as you like, My father and Emma, Mrs. Fielding, won't be coming back," he said trying to sound confident.
"So you say," Stephanie replied, "Of course it would have been so much easier if you had all been here when detective Turner and I arrived." She was now resting her gun on her lap but it was still pointed at Steve. "I would have taken Mrs. Fielding with me whilst the good detective escorted you and your father back to town. Then we would have had a little accident."
"You had it all worked out didn't you?" Steve asked bitterly.
"Oh, several times and each time lieutenant, someone has ruined my plans. First Richard Fielding. He hid the files so that I couldn't just take them when I killed Agent Carlson. You see I had already set it up so that it would look like Mrs. Fielding had killed her husband in a fit of jealous rage. The files would never be found and with Richard Fielding dead and no other witnesses, I would have been free and clear." She paused, "Richard hiding the files was unfortunate."
Steve picked up on the fact that Stephanie was enjoying boasting to her own ingenuity. He decided to play up to it both for whoever was on the other end of the line, if anyone, and to satisfy his own curiosity "So how did you set her up?" He asked.
"Oh that was easy," Stephanie replied, enjoying talking about herself. She had time to waste and Sloan wasn't going to survive the day so she could tell him anything that he wanted to know. "I replaced her vitamin tablets with something that makes you a little more paranoid and unstable, and made a few telephone calls, hanging up when she answered. Then, I simply set up Richard so that he would meet me in a motel room to discuss the case. I convinced him it would look less suspicious if we behaved like lovers. A blonde wig and a well placed photographer were all I needed. Once the prints were sent to her, her imagination did the rest."
"But how did you convince her that she had killed him?" Steve asked
"When you work for the NSA you gain all sorts of knowledge and contacts. I was already waiting for Richard when he arrived home for the inevitable row with his wife. When they entered the kitchen I used an anaesthetic gas to knock them both out. The original plan was just to kill Richard and leave, but I had to modify it. I woke him up and attempted to get him to tell me where he had hidden the files, but all credit to him. It took him three hours before he passed out for the final time and he wouldn't talk."
Steve felt the bile rise in his throat in revulsion. He found it difficult to believe that someone could talk about torturing someone to death in such a casual tone. Even in his job he had met few people who were truly psychotic.
"So, I modified my original plan slightly," Stephanie continued. "I dressed Mrs. Fielding in the dress I had been wearing, one of hers, it was nicely covered in blood. Gave her something to wake her up then threw the knife down in front of her and slipped away." Her tone became a little more angry. "Those fools Dobbs and Steele had the simple task of going to the house, finding the body and arresting her and they managed to mess it up." Her eyes narrowed as she looked across at Steve. "And then we come to your interference lieutenant. Even those two imbeciles would have managed to capture Mrs. Fielding if it hadn't been for you."
"I'm glad my efforts weren't wasted," Steve replied sarcastically.
Stephanie adjusted her position to get more comfortable. "I was hoping that they would just shoot you, if you interfered. You see I didn't tell them you were a police officer when I sent them out to your location that night. They only discovered that later when they ran your license plate. Imagine their surprise." She smiled again at the thought, her anger seemed to have dissipated a little. "I had to switch plans again." She resumed her account. "I began to set up Dobbs to take the fall for me in case anything else went wrong, which thanks to you it did?"
"Like I say, happy to help." Steve knew that he was pushing his luck but, as he saw it at the moment, he didn't have a lot to lose.
Stephanie's voice took on a hard edge. "I started following Detective Turner's movements, once I realised he had an inside involvement with your father and friends, I knew that if anyone was going to help me find you it would be him." She gestured around the room. "So here we are. You've led me a merry dance for the past few days and once again you have upset my plans, I had expected Mrs. Fielding to be here with you, things would have been so much easier. You see everyone is out looking for agent Dobbs. They think he is the one responsible for everything."
"But they won't find him." Steve said intuitively assessing the situation, "because you've already killed him."
"Well done lieutenant! Go to the top of the class." Stephanie replied matching his earlier sarcasm. "His body should be buried under several thousand tonnes of rubble by now. By the time people figure out it was me and not him I should be long gone." She paused and fixed Steve with her gaze. "Of course his death wouldn't have been necessary if it hadn't been for your disappearing act." She paused deliberately to let the implication sink in. "I have to say that you made a good job of it, but for one small slip we wouldn't have found you for several more days at least."
"Without Nathan's help you wouldn't have found me at all." Steve was, he knew being deliberately antagonistic, but he couldn't help himself.
Once again Stephanie dismissed his reply, changing the tack to the conversation. "So I've answered all of your questions, now it's your turn to satisfy my curiosity. Why did you help Mrs. Emma Fielding?" She paused momentarily, "Who is she to you?"
"She's an old friend." Steve stated quietly.
Stephanie shook her head. "No it's more than that. You've risked everything for her," she asserted, "I was candid with you detective now it's your turn."
"I was in love with her once," Steve replied hesitantly. "It was a long time ago," he continued dismissively.
Stephanie thought for a moment. "She was married 29 years, and you don't strike me as the type to have an affair with a married woman. Twenty nine years," she repeated, "that's an awful long time to have been carrying a torch for someone." She watched his reaction knowing that she had struck a nerve. "My God, you still love her don't you?"
The whole line of questioning had set Steve's mind off on an emotional rollercoaster, without really considering who he was talking to, he answered the question that he had been avoiding thinking about. "Yes," he replied his voice barely above a whisper.
Stephanie leaned back into the chair not sure whether to laugh or cry, all of her carefully laid plans thwarted by a love affair that should have ended more than quarter of a century ago
Alison had listened in a dazed state to the whole of the conversation. She was already in a state of shock from watching what had happened to Jesse, the saga that was unraveling at the other end of the phone held her fascinated and horrified at the same time. Any part of her brain capable of making her take action and do something about the situation was temporarily disengaged as she focused all of her attention on listening.
The last revelation sent her mind reeling further, she had not really thought until now about how Steve had ended up involved in this situation, she had just been worried about getting him back safely.
She was so lost in thought that she was totally oblivious when the door of the room opened, but as Amanda rushed in, the movement caught her attention and she turned to face her.
Amanda came to an abrupt stop. "Oh my God," she yelled, looking at the space where the bed belonged "Jesse, tell me I'm not too late." Alison's shocked and pale appearance did little to decrease her panic. The volume of her voice rose further "Where is he?"
Alison responded quickly, Amanda's rising panic helping to force her to focus, dropping the phone down slightly from her ear. "It's all right, he's still alive." She replied, placing her other hand on Amanda's arm reassuringly. "They've taken him up to ICU. They'll let us know when he's settled,"
"Thank god," Amanda said calming slightly
At this point Alison remembered the phone in her hand. "Oh, God Steve!"
Amanda opened her mouth to ask a question but Alison put her finger on her lips to silence her and lifted the phone back to her ear.
Unfortunately Amanda's arrival had coincided with a lull in the conversation. Her loud entreaties for information had been made almost directly next to the handset and even though the phone was still in Steve's pocket. Stephanie picked up on the muffled sound. "What was that?" She asked suspiciously.
"What?" Steve asked innocently.
"That sound?" She was already on her feet and moving across the small gap between herself and Steve. "What have you got in your pockets?"
"Nothing," Steve answered, although he knew already that his cause was lost.
Stephanie's next action came as a complete shock as she pulled back the hand holding the gun and struck Steve clean across the cheekbone with it. The move was so fast that it snapped his head backwards and he collapsed back on to the pillows as his already injured cheek exploded in pain.
Stephanie calmly searched Steve's pockets as he lay too stunned to move, groaning slightly. "You really should take me a little more seriously lieutenant," she said as she pulled out the cell phone. "Damn," she cursed as she realised that the phone was still connected. She hit the disconnect and then threw it into the far wall, venting her anger and frustration. It hit hard and pieces flew off in all directions..
She turned back to Steve. Grabbing hold of his hair, she pulled him to a sitting position. "How long has that been connected? How long have they been listening for?"
Steve was still trying to deal with the shock and pain from the blow. As Stephanie's fingers twisted in his hair pulling his skin taught the pain increased. He struggled to focus.
"How long?" Stephanie spat pulling Steve's hair back and pushing the barrel of the gun into his throat for emphasis.
Even in his confused state Steve could feel the anger emanating from the woman who held him. The cold steel against his throat made his stomach twist in fear. He needed to give an answer or he would probably die now. He tried to speak but his throat muscles were constricted and his mouth dry. He tried again. "Since you knocked Nathan out." He managed to croak out. "They have heard everything." Steve waited for her reaction aware that he may have just signed his own death warrant but he had not had time to weigh up the pro's and cons of telling the truth over a judicious lie.
Stephanie cursed again, using her grip on Steve's hair to throw him back down against the cushions. She stood up and began to pace up and down. She had to think and quickly.
Steve lay back and tried to recover his senses, breathing as slowly and evenly as he could as the throbbing pain slowly subsided. As soon as he could, he focused his attention on the agitated former agent, wondering what her next move would be.
Alison listened as Stephanie asked Steve about the noise. She heard the dull thud of the blow, Steve's gasp of pain and Stephanie cursing just before the line went dead.
She dropped her arm and looked up at Amanda ashen faced. "It's agent Harris, has been all along and she's got Steve."
Amanda's expression was one of confusion.
"I'll explain it all in a few minutes right now Steve needs help. I've got the address here. She indicated her laptop."
Amanda did not need telling twice. She took the phone and dialed. "Hello Captain Newman, it's Dr. Amanda Bentley, I have someone here who knows where Steve is," and she handed the phone to Alison.
Alison did not waste words, telling the police Captain the minimum he needed to know to dispatch help for Steve. She promised to explain everything once Steve was safe.
Amanda had listened wide eyed to what little information Alison had had to impart, now there was little either woman could do but wait for news.
Stephanie turned halfway through her line of pacing and moved over to Nathan's prone form. She checked him first, but the young detective was still unconscious, then she removed his handcuffs from his belt and tossed them on to the couch next to Steve. "Put those on."
Steve made no move to follow her instructions.
"Look," she said, the anger still there, "I quite like this guy, so I was going to leave him alive, however, if you are going to be uncooperative..." She pointed her gun at Nathan's head.
Steve moved to pick up the handcuffs locking them around his left wrist first he then went to clip them around his right.
"No," Stephanie said sharply, "behind you."
Reluctantly Steve slowly pushed himself to his feet and tried in vain to put his right arm behind his back. Even reaching his left around as far as he could there was no way his right arm would cooperate, beads of sweat formed on his forehead from the pain and exertion of trying. Eventually he gave up. He put his hand back round the front and clipped his wrists together. "That's the best I can do." He stated. "If it's not good enough then you will have to shoot me."
"Ah but I didn't threaten to shoot you lieutenant." she cocked the hammer on the pistol and pointed it down at Nathan. "I threatened to shoot him," and she pulled the trigger.
"No," Steve cried out in anguish moving forward, his heart racing as a surge of adrenaline pushed out into his system. He moved towards the young man on the floor, almost too afraid to look, afraid that his defiance had just cost him his life, but Stephanie had shifted her aim at the last moment and there was a neat gouge where the bullet had harmlessly hit the wooden floor a few inches from Nathan's head.
Steve sank down to his knees next to his young colleague and looked up at Stephanie. She was watching him. Steve realised that she was watching his reactions, taking pleasure from it. He whispered a curse. He was revising his view, this woman was way beyond psychotic.
She raised the gun so that it was pointing at his head again. "Next time I tell you to do something I expect you to do exactly what I tell you. Now get up"
Steve obeyed without comment.
"Thanks to your interference once again there will have to be a change of plan, but I don't think you are going to like it. Now move." She gestured towards the door. "And don't try to delay us in any way or I will come back and kill your young friend here."
Once outside by the car, Stephanie pushed him to the back and opened the trunk. "Get in."
"But.. "Steve started to protest. Forcing him to travel any distance in the trunk of a car with the fumes and lack of oxygen, he knew would cause his condition to deteriorate, but Stephanie made a gesture back towards the house, her meaning clear. He bit back his protest and trying his best not to land on his bad shoulder he climbed in. He watched silently as the rectangle of daylight rapidly disappeared and the trunk clicked shut leaving him in oppressive heat and darkness as he struggled to find the least uncomfortable position in the cramped space.
By the time he heard the engine start up he was already sweating. As the car moved off and noxious vapours started to filter in to the already tainted air he prayed that they were not going too far. He closed his eyes tightly attempting to ward off the claustrophobia of being shut in such a small space and mercifully passed out. His last conscious thought was a silent prayer of thanks that at least his actions meant that his father and Emma would be safe."
Mark and Emma pulled on to the side track that led to the cabin, unknowingly only minutes after Stephanie had pulled off heading for the freeway. They had driven much of the way in silence, the disappointment of finding the wrecked boat and of possibly having lost the files, weighing heavily on both their minds.
They arrived at the cabin and as soon as he was out of the car, Mark shouted, "Steve, it's only us we're back." He did not want his son to worry nor to get up to check on the identity of those in the car.
Mark then waited for Emma to come round and they headed up on to the porch together. Mark pushed the door open, another greeting ready, but it died on his lips as he took in the interior of the cabin.
There was no sign of Steve but there was a figure lying injured on the floor. His medical instincts took over and he rushed over to the prone form, recognising him as he got closer he gasped, "Nathan," and knelt by his side to check his condition.
Emma left the doctor to his work and began searching the rest of the cabin for some sign of Steve, calling his name as she went. She returned moments later. "Steve's not here," she stated numbly, "and I found these," she held up the fragments of the shattered cell phone.
Mark looked up finding it difficult to digest the news. He wasn't sure that he could cope with Steve's disappearance for a second time. He pulled himself back together and focused his attention back on the young detective. He would have to deal with what had happened to his son once he had helped his patient.. "Get me my medical bag," he said, "He's got a nasty gash in the back of his head and at the very least a concussion. We need to get him to hospital."
Emma seemed frightened by the idea. "But what about.."
"Yes, I know," Mark said, "we're still in danger, but it's obvious that someone has found this place and whoever it is has taken Steve. Staying here is no longer an option and we need help. Besides, this young man has head injuries, if there are any complications he could die." Mark stood and put his hands on her shoulders to reassure her. "Don't worry, I won't let the NSA take you."
Emma nodded. "OK," she said quietly.
Mark knelt down again and searched Nathan's pockets finding his cell phone. He dialed 911.
The phone had barely connected when they heard the helicopter. Mark hit the disconnect and headed for the window.
"This is the police come out with your hands up." An authoritative voice blasted from the speakers under the chopper.
Mark and Emma knew that they had little choice but to comply. They headed out of the door, their hands raised above their heads as the helicopter hovered just a few feet above the ground. Two heavily armed officers outfitted in heavy kevlar suits dropped down and ran over to them. With guns aimed at them, the pair felt themselves being dragged across to the parked car and pushed down behind the vehicle so that it provided cover from the cabin. Once they were there, the two officers trained their guns back at the house as Captain Newman himself alighted from the helicopter which had now set down some twenty feet away. Keeping low the Captain ran across to join them.
The Captain was almost as relieved to see Mark as Mark was to see him, but there was no time for social niceties. "Are Steve and Agent Harris still in there?" He asked.
"No there was only us and Detective Turner," Mark said, not wasting time on questions for the time being.
"Damn," the Captain cursed punching the ground in frustration at being too late. He signaled for the SWAT team that he had brought with him to stand down.
Mark looked at the Captain. "I'm sure that you have almost as many questions as I do," he said, "but first we need to get Detective Turner to hospital."
"We'll take him in the helicopter," the Captain replied, the two men knew each other well enough to trust the others judgment. "We can exchange information on the way."
Stephanie pulled the car over to the side of the deserted road and climbed out. Opening the trunk she checked on the condition of her prisoner. Finding that he was unconscious she went to retrieve the oxygen cylinder from the back seat. She placed it next to Steve and opened the valve. It would not do for him to suffocate before she had what she needed.
This had of course all been set up for Mrs. Fielding. Stephanie tried not to think about the fact that she had had to change her plans once again as it would make her angry. Possibly angry enough just to kill Steve Sloan there and then and she needed to be patient. There would be time for that later.
Alison and Amanda sat in the ICU waiting room, having been informed that the doctor was still with Jesse. They had been able to ascertain that he was stable but in a coma. They were still running tests to try to establish just how much permanent damage had been done.
Amanda had fixed some coffee and she now waited patiently for Alison to fill her in on the rest of the conversation that she had overheard.
Neither of them took any notice of the man on the next table who was drinking coffee alone, until he gasped at something Alison had said.
They both turned to look at him. "Forgive me for listening," he said, "but my name is Collins and I am a Field Director for the NSA and I believe it's my agents that you are talking about."
Alison and Amanda barely had time to recover from that shock when Mark arrived accompanied by Captain Newman and Emma Fielding. Nathan was being looked after in the ER.
Amanda jumped up and ran over to him, "Mark," she called out delightedly, momentarily caring about nothing else as she put her arms around him and gave him a hug. At least one of her friends was all right.
"Very touching," Captain Newman said, "but we've got a lot to sort out."
"I agree," Collins said, holding up his ID, "and I think introductions are in order first."
Once the introductions were over the next hour was taken up with a mass debrief as everyone filled in their own particular part of the tale that had brought them all together. The ICU waiting room substituting once again for an interview room.
"So," Captain Newman concluded, "there are APB's out on both lieutenant Sloan and Agent Harris."
"But we still have no idea where the missing files are." Collins added.
"Well I'm going to check on Jesse, and Nathan" Amanda said, she felt mentally drained from the amount of information she had taken in and needed to do something. She had just got up to leave the room, when Mark's pager went off, it was an internal number so he moved to a phone in the corner and answered.
"Dr. Mark Sloan," a pause, "Give me one minute, I'll take it in my office." Mark hung up and headed for the door at a run. "It's her," he stated, "There's a speakerphone in my office" and without waiting to see if the others were following he was through the door and gone.
Steve had woken still in the trunk of the car but the lid was up and he could see daylight filtering through. He coughed and spluttered slightly and realised that an oxygen mask had been placed over his mouth and nose to revive him. For a moment, he had a glimmer of hope that he had been rescued but it was quashed as he looked up into Stephanie's cold eyes staring down dispassionately at him.
For the next twenty minutes he was afloat in a sea of pain as he tried to force cramped and abused muscles to obey him. All the time Stephanie threatened with more blows to increase the agony if he did not seem to be trying to do as she asked. He climbed out of the back of the car and was shoved into an old warehouse building and then into one of the offices.
Eventually he was forced into a chair and strapped to it securely so that he could not move. "Now," Agent Harris said quietly putting her face level with his. "Let's see if we can talk to your beloved father. See if we can't do a deal" She had been monitoring the police band and knew exactly where to find him. She dialed the number for community general.
She was on hold for around five minutes and was beginning to lose her patience when a voice as familiar to Steve as his own answered. "Dr. Mark Sloan,"
"Ah Dr. Sloan, I have your son here." She looked at Steve. "Say something."
Steve wet his lips "Dad I.." was all he got out before the phone was pulled away and a hand placed over his mouth.
"Steve!" Mark replied anxiously, fear in his voice.
"Now Dr. Sloan, you have something I want and I have something you want. A fair exchange, your son for the files Richard Fielding hid."
"But, I don't have them," Mark replied wondering desperately how he could get this woman to believe that.
"In that case you will have to find them and quickly Dr. Sloan. I am afraid I don't have a lot of patience."
Steve watched wide eyed as Stephanie pulled out a long hunting knife. She ran the tip of the blade slowly down his chest.
"You did see what I did to Mr. Fielding, didn't you, a very slow way to die," she continued mockingly. "I estimate it took around three hours but I can go a little more slowly."
Steve braced himself for the inevitable cut, knowing that Stephanie wanted him to cry out, he was determined not to give her the satisfaction.
As the blade dug in to the muscle of his chest. Steve bit down hard and closed his eyes against the latest agony. When he opened them again he looked up at Stephanie who was watching him smiling. Abruptly she twisted the blade and he could not help himself he gasped in pain. Her smile broadened.
Everyone in the room heard the cry, heard the suffering that it contained. There were four people in the room who loved Steve Sloan to some degree and all of them felt the pain with him but none more so than his father.
"No, Please," Mark cried out in anguish.
"Find me the files," Stephanie stated. "I'll call back in an hour with instructions." And the line went dead.
Steve looked directly at the barrel of the gun and attempted to keep his voice calm as he replied. "That's the second time someone from the NSA has threatened to shoot me," he said "Is there something in your training that tells you that's the best way to get information? By blowing people's brains out?"
"Sarcasm in the face of death? I'm impressed lieutenant." The gun did not waver as Stephanie spoke. "Looks like what I've read about you is true, but you need to understand that I am not bluffing. I have already killed at least five people to get to those files and I will not hesitate to kill again." She stepped closer. "And if it hadn't been for your interference then I probably would have them by now. So I would positively enjoy killing you after the trouble you have caused me." Her tone was light her movements graceful and yet she somehow came across as intimidating as any six foot thug that Steve had ever been called on to face. "So I ask you again lieutenant. Where are Mrs. Fielding and your father?"
"They left a couple of hours ago and they're not coming back. My father is taking Mrs. Fielding to somewhere safe." Steve replied not showing the fear that he felt. There was a cold detached air about this woman, he did not doubt her ability to take pleasure in killing
"Really?" Stephanie closed the last of the distance. She inspected Steve's bruised cheek, pressing the tip of the gun barrel against it. Steve flinched slightly.
"Yes," he said staring up into Stephanie's eyes; they were cold, there was no life in them. He pointed to the table, "They left me enough to keep me going until I felt better, then I was going to turn myself in for questioning, once they had a head start."
Stephanie ran the gun down the side of Steve's cheek as she looked down and inspected the dressing that she could see under Steve's unbuttoned shirt "I see," she said slowly, drawing out the words, using the barrel of the gun to push the shirt further apart. The touch was light, as that of a lover moving clothing aside to expose muscular flesh but the cold steel gently sliding over his skin held an icy menace far worse than harsh movements. She watched his face, clearly amused by his reaction.
If Steve had been in better shape he might have made an attempt to go for the gun, but the way he was feeling he knew that his reflexes were not up to it. Stephanie had her finger on the trigger and any false moves on his part would probably be suicidal.
Abruptly Stephanie struck him on the right shoulder. The blow was on the collar bone and not directly on the wound but it was enough to send a fireball of agony shooting out. Steve yelled out before he managed to bite back the reaction and he was left gasping in pain as Stephanie backed off watching him intently.
"Nice try lieutenant but I'm not buying it." She leveled the gun at him once more. "From what I've read about your father he wouldn't leave you alone with a wound like that for long.. So I ask you again. Where are they and how long before they return?"
"Go to Hell." Steve gasped out as he tried to steady his breathing.
"Oh, trust me lieutenant, that's not where I'm going, at least not yet but by the time I have finished with you, you may wish you were there." She sat in an armchair, "Until then I think I will just sit and wait. They'll be back soon enough and no one else knows that Detective Turner and I came here."
Steve decided to see if he could get some answers about what was going on, besides he needed a distraction. "So how did you find me?" He asked. Whilst he was speaking he slipped his hand into his pocket, finding the cell phone, he began pressing the necessary buttons to redial the last number called, grateful that he had brought the same make as his own so that he was familiar with the keypad.
"Your friend Doctor Travis told us you were here. Some lawyer rang him looking for your father so that he could ask if he knew anything about this cabin being used."
"But I thought you just said.."
"That no one knows we came here. I should have modified it to no one living." She looked at her watch. "Given the dose I used your good friend Dr. Travis should be dead by now." She grinned. "Cyanide is a most effective poison you know."
Steve felt sick. It couldn't be, she had to be lying, and yet every instinct in him told him that she was telling the truth, and if that were the case then she had poisoned Jesse so that he couldn't tell anyone else where they were and that meant that Jesse was probably..... Steve could not finish the thought instead he tried to focus on his own situation,
His only hope and, more importantly, the only hope for Emma and his father and the young detective lying only a few feet away, was that the call he had just made would be answered by someone who would realise what was going on. Someone who would send help. Otherwise the woman sitting across from him would kill all of them in an attempt to get what she wanted.
The doctor handed the phone back to Alison who automatically put it back to her ear but the line was already dead. Amanda had hung up and was on her way back to the hospital.
Alison let the phone fall to her side and stood and watched helplessly as Jesse's condition continued to deteriorate rapidly. One of the nurses had been dispatched at a run for the cyanide antidote, whilst the doctor and two other nurses fought to keep Jesse breathing. By the time the nurse returned he could no longer breath on his own and they were using a bag to force oxygen into his lungs.
It was another fifteen minutes of frantic activity before they were ready to move him. Alison started to follow but the doctor told her to wait. He would come back and talk to her when he could. Alison hung up the phone which, up to that point, she had gripped tightly in her hand. It took her three attempts to reseat it on it's cradle, then she sank down into the chair and simply stared at the place where Jesse's bed had been. How could circumstances change so quickly?
She was lost in thought, and it took a few moments for it to penetrate that the phone was ringing again. Thinking that it may be Amanda ringing for an update she picked it up and was about to speak when she heard slightly muffled voices. Her eyes widened as she recognised them and listened to the contents of the conversation.
Steve needed to get a conversation going so that if anyone answered his call they would have a chance of figuring out what was happening. "You can sit here as long as you like, My father and Emma, Mrs. Fielding, won't be coming back," he said trying to sound confident.
"So you say," Stephanie replied, "Of course it would have been so much easier if you had all been here when detective Turner and I arrived." She was now resting her gun on her lap but it was still pointed at Steve. "I would have taken Mrs. Fielding with me whilst the good detective escorted you and your father back to town. Then we would have had a little accident."
"You had it all worked out didn't you?" Steve asked bitterly.
"Oh, several times and each time lieutenant, someone has ruined my plans. First Richard Fielding. He hid the files so that I couldn't just take them when I killed Agent Carlson. You see I had already set it up so that it would look like Mrs. Fielding had killed her husband in a fit of jealous rage. The files would never be found and with Richard Fielding dead and no other witnesses, I would have been free and clear." She paused, "Richard hiding the files was unfortunate."
Steve picked up on the fact that Stephanie was enjoying boasting to her own ingenuity. He decided to play up to it both for whoever was on the other end of the line, if anyone, and to satisfy his own curiosity "So how did you set her up?" He asked.
"Oh that was easy," Stephanie replied, enjoying talking about herself. She had time to waste and Sloan wasn't going to survive the day so she could tell him anything that he wanted to know. "I replaced her vitamin tablets with something that makes you a little more paranoid and unstable, and made a few telephone calls, hanging up when she answered. Then, I simply set up Richard so that he would meet me in a motel room to discuss the case. I convinced him it would look less suspicious if we behaved like lovers. A blonde wig and a well placed photographer were all I needed. Once the prints were sent to her, her imagination did the rest."
"But how did you convince her that she had killed him?" Steve asked
"When you work for the NSA you gain all sorts of knowledge and contacts. I was already waiting for Richard when he arrived home for the inevitable row with his wife. When they entered the kitchen I used an anaesthetic gas to knock them both out. The original plan was just to kill Richard and leave, but I had to modify it. I woke him up and attempted to get him to tell me where he had hidden the files, but all credit to him. It took him three hours before he passed out for the final time and he wouldn't talk."
Steve felt the bile rise in his throat in revulsion. He found it difficult to believe that someone could talk about torturing someone to death in such a casual tone. Even in his job he had met few people who were truly psychotic.
"So, I modified my original plan slightly," Stephanie continued. "I dressed Mrs. Fielding in the dress I had been wearing, one of hers, it was nicely covered in blood. Gave her something to wake her up then threw the knife down in front of her and slipped away." Her tone became a little more angry. "Those fools Dobbs and Steele had the simple task of going to the house, finding the body and arresting her and they managed to mess it up." Her eyes narrowed as she looked across at Steve. "And then we come to your interference lieutenant. Even those two imbeciles would have managed to capture Mrs. Fielding if it hadn't been for you."
"I'm glad my efforts weren't wasted," Steve replied sarcastically.
Stephanie adjusted her position to get more comfortable. "I was hoping that they would just shoot you, if you interfered. You see I didn't tell them you were a police officer when I sent them out to your location that night. They only discovered that later when they ran your license plate. Imagine their surprise." She smiled again at the thought, her anger seemed to have dissipated a little. "I had to switch plans again." She resumed her account. "I began to set up Dobbs to take the fall for me in case anything else went wrong, which thanks to you it did?"
"Like I say, happy to help." Steve knew that he was pushing his luck but, as he saw it at the moment, he didn't have a lot to lose.
Stephanie's voice took on a hard edge. "I started following Detective Turner's movements, once I realised he had an inside involvement with your father and friends, I knew that if anyone was going to help me find you it would be him." She gestured around the room. "So here we are. You've led me a merry dance for the past few days and once again you have upset my plans, I had expected Mrs. Fielding to be here with you, things would have been so much easier. You see everyone is out looking for agent Dobbs. They think he is the one responsible for everything."
"But they won't find him." Steve said intuitively assessing the situation, "because you've already killed him."
"Well done lieutenant! Go to the top of the class." Stephanie replied matching his earlier sarcasm. "His body should be buried under several thousand tonnes of rubble by now. By the time people figure out it was me and not him I should be long gone." She paused and fixed Steve with her gaze. "Of course his death wouldn't have been necessary if it hadn't been for your disappearing act." She paused deliberately to let the implication sink in. "I have to say that you made a good job of it, but for one small slip we wouldn't have found you for several more days at least."
"Without Nathan's help you wouldn't have found me at all." Steve was, he knew being deliberately antagonistic, but he couldn't help himself.
Once again Stephanie dismissed his reply, changing the tack to the conversation. "So I've answered all of your questions, now it's your turn to satisfy my curiosity. Why did you help Mrs. Emma Fielding?" She paused momentarily, "Who is she to you?"
"She's an old friend." Steve stated quietly.
Stephanie shook her head. "No it's more than that. You've risked everything for her," she asserted, "I was candid with you detective now it's your turn."
"I was in love with her once," Steve replied hesitantly. "It was a long time ago," he continued dismissively.
Stephanie thought for a moment. "She was married 29 years, and you don't strike me as the type to have an affair with a married woman. Twenty nine years," she repeated, "that's an awful long time to have been carrying a torch for someone." She watched his reaction knowing that she had struck a nerve. "My God, you still love her don't you?"
The whole line of questioning had set Steve's mind off on an emotional rollercoaster, without really considering who he was talking to, he answered the question that he had been avoiding thinking about. "Yes," he replied his voice barely above a whisper.
Stephanie leaned back into the chair not sure whether to laugh or cry, all of her carefully laid plans thwarted by a love affair that should have ended more than quarter of a century ago
Alison had listened in a dazed state to the whole of the conversation. She was already in a state of shock from watching what had happened to Jesse, the saga that was unraveling at the other end of the phone held her fascinated and horrified at the same time. Any part of her brain capable of making her take action and do something about the situation was temporarily disengaged as she focused all of her attention on listening.
The last revelation sent her mind reeling further, she had not really thought until now about how Steve had ended up involved in this situation, she had just been worried about getting him back safely.
She was so lost in thought that she was totally oblivious when the door of the room opened, but as Amanda rushed in, the movement caught her attention and she turned to face her.
Amanda came to an abrupt stop. "Oh my God," she yelled, looking at the space where the bed belonged "Jesse, tell me I'm not too late." Alison's shocked and pale appearance did little to decrease her panic. The volume of her voice rose further "Where is he?"
Alison responded quickly, Amanda's rising panic helping to force her to focus, dropping the phone down slightly from her ear. "It's all right, he's still alive." She replied, placing her other hand on Amanda's arm reassuringly. "They've taken him up to ICU. They'll let us know when he's settled,"
"Thank god," Amanda said calming slightly
At this point Alison remembered the phone in her hand. "Oh, God Steve!"
Amanda opened her mouth to ask a question but Alison put her finger on her lips to silence her and lifted the phone back to her ear.
Unfortunately Amanda's arrival had coincided with a lull in the conversation. Her loud entreaties for information had been made almost directly next to the handset and even though the phone was still in Steve's pocket. Stephanie picked up on the muffled sound. "What was that?" She asked suspiciously.
"What?" Steve asked innocently.
"That sound?" She was already on her feet and moving across the small gap between herself and Steve. "What have you got in your pockets?"
"Nothing," Steve answered, although he knew already that his cause was lost.
Stephanie's next action came as a complete shock as she pulled back the hand holding the gun and struck Steve clean across the cheekbone with it. The move was so fast that it snapped his head backwards and he collapsed back on to the pillows as his already injured cheek exploded in pain.
Stephanie calmly searched Steve's pockets as he lay too stunned to move, groaning slightly. "You really should take me a little more seriously lieutenant," she said as she pulled out the cell phone. "Damn," she cursed as she realised that the phone was still connected. She hit the disconnect and then threw it into the far wall, venting her anger and frustration. It hit hard and pieces flew off in all directions..
She turned back to Steve. Grabbing hold of his hair, she pulled him to a sitting position. "How long has that been connected? How long have they been listening for?"
Steve was still trying to deal with the shock and pain from the blow. As Stephanie's fingers twisted in his hair pulling his skin taught the pain increased. He struggled to focus.
"How long?" Stephanie spat pulling Steve's hair back and pushing the barrel of the gun into his throat for emphasis.
Even in his confused state Steve could feel the anger emanating from the woman who held him. The cold steel against his throat made his stomach twist in fear. He needed to give an answer or he would probably die now. He tried to speak but his throat muscles were constricted and his mouth dry. He tried again. "Since you knocked Nathan out." He managed to croak out. "They have heard everything." Steve waited for her reaction aware that he may have just signed his own death warrant but he had not had time to weigh up the pro's and cons of telling the truth over a judicious lie.
Stephanie cursed again, using her grip on Steve's hair to throw him back down against the cushions. She stood up and began to pace up and down. She had to think and quickly.
Steve lay back and tried to recover his senses, breathing as slowly and evenly as he could as the throbbing pain slowly subsided. As soon as he could, he focused his attention on the agitated former agent, wondering what her next move would be.
Alison listened as Stephanie asked Steve about the noise. She heard the dull thud of the blow, Steve's gasp of pain and Stephanie cursing just before the line went dead.
She dropped her arm and looked up at Amanda ashen faced. "It's agent Harris, has been all along and she's got Steve."
Amanda's expression was one of confusion.
"I'll explain it all in a few minutes right now Steve needs help. I've got the address here. She indicated her laptop."
Amanda did not need telling twice. She took the phone and dialed. "Hello Captain Newman, it's Dr. Amanda Bentley, I have someone here who knows where Steve is," and she handed the phone to Alison.
Alison did not waste words, telling the police Captain the minimum he needed to know to dispatch help for Steve. She promised to explain everything once Steve was safe.
Amanda had listened wide eyed to what little information Alison had had to impart, now there was little either woman could do but wait for news.
Stephanie turned halfway through her line of pacing and moved over to Nathan's prone form. She checked him first, but the young detective was still unconscious, then she removed his handcuffs from his belt and tossed them on to the couch next to Steve. "Put those on."
Steve made no move to follow her instructions.
"Look," she said, the anger still there, "I quite like this guy, so I was going to leave him alive, however, if you are going to be uncooperative..." She pointed her gun at Nathan's head.
Steve moved to pick up the handcuffs locking them around his left wrist first he then went to clip them around his right.
"No," Stephanie said sharply, "behind you."
Reluctantly Steve slowly pushed himself to his feet and tried in vain to put his right arm behind his back. Even reaching his left around as far as he could there was no way his right arm would cooperate, beads of sweat formed on his forehead from the pain and exertion of trying. Eventually he gave up. He put his hand back round the front and clipped his wrists together. "That's the best I can do." He stated. "If it's not good enough then you will have to shoot me."
"Ah but I didn't threaten to shoot you lieutenant." she cocked the hammer on the pistol and pointed it down at Nathan. "I threatened to shoot him," and she pulled the trigger.
"No," Steve cried out in anguish moving forward, his heart racing as a surge of adrenaline pushed out into his system. He moved towards the young man on the floor, almost too afraid to look, afraid that his defiance had just cost him his life, but Stephanie had shifted her aim at the last moment and there was a neat gouge where the bullet had harmlessly hit the wooden floor a few inches from Nathan's head.
Steve sank down to his knees next to his young colleague and looked up at Stephanie. She was watching him. Steve realised that she was watching his reactions, taking pleasure from it. He whispered a curse. He was revising his view, this woman was way beyond psychotic.
She raised the gun so that it was pointing at his head again. "Next time I tell you to do something I expect you to do exactly what I tell you. Now get up"
Steve obeyed without comment.
"Thanks to your interference once again there will have to be a change of plan, but I don't think you are going to like it. Now move." She gestured towards the door. "And don't try to delay us in any way or I will come back and kill your young friend here."
Once outside by the car, Stephanie pushed him to the back and opened the trunk. "Get in."
"But.. "Steve started to protest. Forcing him to travel any distance in the trunk of a car with the fumes and lack of oxygen, he knew would cause his condition to deteriorate, but Stephanie made a gesture back towards the house, her meaning clear. He bit back his protest and trying his best not to land on his bad shoulder he climbed in. He watched silently as the rectangle of daylight rapidly disappeared and the trunk clicked shut leaving him in oppressive heat and darkness as he struggled to find the least uncomfortable position in the cramped space.
By the time he heard the engine start up he was already sweating. As the car moved off and noxious vapours started to filter in to the already tainted air he prayed that they were not going too far. He closed his eyes tightly attempting to ward off the claustrophobia of being shut in such a small space and mercifully passed out. His last conscious thought was a silent prayer of thanks that at least his actions meant that his father and Emma would be safe."
Mark and Emma pulled on to the side track that led to the cabin, unknowingly only minutes after Stephanie had pulled off heading for the freeway. They had driven much of the way in silence, the disappointment of finding the wrecked boat and of possibly having lost the files, weighing heavily on both their minds.
They arrived at the cabin and as soon as he was out of the car, Mark shouted, "Steve, it's only us we're back." He did not want his son to worry nor to get up to check on the identity of those in the car.
Mark then waited for Emma to come round and they headed up on to the porch together. Mark pushed the door open, another greeting ready, but it died on his lips as he took in the interior of the cabin.
There was no sign of Steve but there was a figure lying injured on the floor. His medical instincts took over and he rushed over to the prone form, recognising him as he got closer he gasped, "Nathan," and knelt by his side to check his condition.
Emma left the doctor to his work and began searching the rest of the cabin for some sign of Steve, calling his name as she went. She returned moments later. "Steve's not here," she stated numbly, "and I found these," she held up the fragments of the shattered cell phone.
Mark looked up finding it difficult to digest the news. He wasn't sure that he could cope with Steve's disappearance for a second time. He pulled himself back together and focused his attention back on the young detective. He would have to deal with what had happened to his son once he had helped his patient.. "Get me my medical bag," he said, "He's got a nasty gash in the back of his head and at the very least a concussion. We need to get him to hospital."
Emma seemed frightened by the idea. "But what about.."
"Yes, I know," Mark said, "we're still in danger, but it's obvious that someone has found this place and whoever it is has taken Steve. Staying here is no longer an option and we need help. Besides, this young man has head injuries, if there are any complications he could die." Mark stood and put his hands on her shoulders to reassure her. "Don't worry, I won't let the NSA take you."
Emma nodded. "OK," she said quietly.
Mark knelt down again and searched Nathan's pockets finding his cell phone. He dialed 911.
The phone had barely connected when they heard the helicopter. Mark hit the disconnect and headed for the window.
"This is the police come out with your hands up." An authoritative voice blasted from the speakers under the chopper.
Mark and Emma knew that they had little choice but to comply. They headed out of the door, their hands raised above their heads as the helicopter hovered just a few feet above the ground. Two heavily armed officers outfitted in heavy kevlar suits dropped down and ran over to them. With guns aimed at them, the pair felt themselves being dragged across to the parked car and pushed down behind the vehicle so that it provided cover from the cabin. Once they were there, the two officers trained their guns back at the house as Captain Newman himself alighted from the helicopter which had now set down some twenty feet away. Keeping low the Captain ran across to join them.
The Captain was almost as relieved to see Mark as Mark was to see him, but there was no time for social niceties. "Are Steve and Agent Harris still in there?" He asked.
"No there was only us and Detective Turner," Mark said, not wasting time on questions for the time being.
"Damn," the Captain cursed punching the ground in frustration at being too late. He signaled for the SWAT team that he had brought with him to stand down.
Mark looked at the Captain. "I'm sure that you have almost as many questions as I do," he said, "but first we need to get Detective Turner to hospital."
"We'll take him in the helicopter," the Captain replied, the two men knew each other well enough to trust the others judgment. "We can exchange information on the way."
Stephanie pulled the car over to the side of the deserted road and climbed out. Opening the trunk she checked on the condition of her prisoner. Finding that he was unconscious she went to retrieve the oxygen cylinder from the back seat. She placed it next to Steve and opened the valve. It would not do for him to suffocate before she had what she needed.
This had of course all been set up for Mrs. Fielding. Stephanie tried not to think about the fact that she had had to change her plans once again as it would make her angry. Possibly angry enough just to kill Steve Sloan there and then and she needed to be patient. There would be time for that later.
Alison and Amanda sat in the ICU waiting room, having been informed that the doctor was still with Jesse. They had been able to ascertain that he was stable but in a coma. They were still running tests to try to establish just how much permanent damage had been done.
Amanda had fixed some coffee and she now waited patiently for Alison to fill her in on the rest of the conversation that she had overheard.
Neither of them took any notice of the man on the next table who was drinking coffee alone, until he gasped at something Alison had said.
They both turned to look at him. "Forgive me for listening," he said, "but my name is Collins and I am a Field Director for the NSA and I believe it's my agents that you are talking about."
Alison and Amanda barely had time to recover from that shock when Mark arrived accompanied by Captain Newman and Emma Fielding. Nathan was being looked after in the ER.
Amanda jumped up and ran over to him, "Mark," she called out delightedly, momentarily caring about nothing else as she put her arms around him and gave him a hug. At least one of her friends was all right.
"Very touching," Captain Newman said, "but we've got a lot to sort out."
"I agree," Collins said, holding up his ID, "and I think introductions are in order first."
Once the introductions were over the next hour was taken up with a mass debrief as everyone filled in their own particular part of the tale that had brought them all together. The ICU waiting room substituting once again for an interview room.
"So," Captain Newman concluded, "there are APB's out on both lieutenant Sloan and Agent Harris."
"But we still have no idea where the missing files are." Collins added.
"Well I'm going to check on Jesse, and Nathan" Amanda said, she felt mentally drained from the amount of information she had taken in and needed to do something. She had just got up to leave the room, when Mark's pager went off, it was an internal number so he moved to a phone in the corner and answered.
"Dr. Mark Sloan," a pause, "Give me one minute, I'll take it in my office." Mark hung up and headed for the door at a run. "It's her," he stated, "There's a speakerphone in my office" and without waiting to see if the others were following he was through the door and gone.
Steve had woken still in the trunk of the car but the lid was up and he could see daylight filtering through. He coughed and spluttered slightly and realised that an oxygen mask had been placed over his mouth and nose to revive him. For a moment, he had a glimmer of hope that he had been rescued but it was quashed as he looked up into Stephanie's cold eyes staring down dispassionately at him.
For the next twenty minutes he was afloat in a sea of pain as he tried to force cramped and abused muscles to obey him. All the time Stephanie threatened with more blows to increase the agony if he did not seem to be trying to do as she asked. He climbed out of the back of the car and was shoved into an old warehouse building and then into one of the offices.
Eventually he was forced into a chair and strapped to it securely so that he could not move. "Now," Agent Harris said quietly putting her face level with his. "Let's see if we can talk to your beloved father. See if we can't do a deal" She had been monitoring the police band and knew exactly where to find him. She dialed the number for community general.
She was on hold for around five minutes and was beginning to lose her patience when a voice as familiar to Steve as his own answered. "Dr. Mark Sloan,"
"Ah Dr. Sloan, I have your son here." She looked at Steve. "Say something."
Steve wet his lips "Dad I.." was all he got out before the phone was pulled away and a hand placed over his mouth.
"Steve!" Mark replied anxiously, fear in his voice.
"Now Dr. Sloan, you have something I want and I have something you want. A fair exchange, your son for the files Richard Fielding hid."
"But, I don't have them," Mark replied wondering desperately how he could get this woman to believe that.
"In that case you will have to find them and quickly Dr. Sloan. I am afraid I don't have a lot of patience."
Steve watched wide eyed as Stephanie pulled out a long hunting knife. She ran the tip of the blade slowly down his chest.
"You did see what I did to Mr. Fielding, didn't you, a very slow way to die," she continued mockingly. "I estimate it took around three hours but I can go a little more slowly."
Steve braced himself for the inevitable cut, knowing that Stephanie wanted him to cry out, he was determined not to give her the satisfaction.
As the blade dug in to the muscle of his chest. Steve bit down hard and closed his eyes against the latest agony. When he opened them again he looked up at Stephanie who was watching him smiling. Abruptly she twisted the blade and he could not help himself he gasped in pain. Her smile broadened.
Everyone in the room heard the cry, heard the suffering that it contained. There were four people in the room who loved Steve Sloan to some degree and all of them felt the pain with him but none more so than his father.
"No, Please," Mark cried out in anguish.
"Find me the files," Stephanie stated. "I'll call back in an hour with instructions." And the line went dead.