TITLE: Kidnapped - Part 3
AUTHOR: Lynne Facella
CATEGORY: JC, PB
SPOILERS: Episodes through All in the Family
ARCHIVE: Sure, just ask so I know where it is going.
EMAIL: Mulderette@aol.com or Lynne1919@aol.com
DISCLAIMER: All ER characters are the property of Warner Brothers, NBC, etc., etc. (The bad guys are mine).



After the cell door closed Carter and Benton stood silently mesmerized by the golden flicker of the candle, the only spot of light in the room. After a few moments Benton's voice pierced the stillness of the cell. "Hey man, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm alright." Carter's voice was subdued. "Are you okay? That guy punched you pretty hard."

"I'm fine," Benton stated. He bent down and picked up another of the candles, lighting it from the flame of the first and then did the same with a third candle. The added light of the additional candles illuminated the whole cell, not that there was much to see. In the corner there was a tattered old blanket. Some tiny scraps of paper littered the floor. It was exceedingly dismal.

Benton glanced at Carter noting that he didn't look particularly well. "Carter...why don't you sit down before you fall down."

Carter shook his head.

Benton sighed. "Come on," he said more insistently.

Carter stared at Benton for a moment, opened his mouth to say something but then thought better of it and slid down to the floor, his back against the wall and his knees hugged against his chest.

Benton knelt down next to him and handed him the container of water. "Here, why don't you drink some of this."

Once again Carter shook his head. His stomach was in knots and he felt like he wouldn't be able to keep it down.

Benton shut his eyes, trying to fight against the aggravation he could feel setting in, not so much against Carter but rather the whole situation. Carter definitely wasn't helping matters right now though.

"Carter will you please drink the damn water?"

Carter put his head down against his knees. "I don't want any," he said, his voice muffled but persistent.

Benton had no idea why Carter was being so stubborn. He seemed to want to fight against everything Benton suggested. He raised the jug of water to his own lips and took a couple of long swallows. The water was deliciously cool as it slid down his parched throat. He closed the lid and settled down next to Carter. He decided a change in subject might at least get the younger man talking. "So...," he began. "Do you have any bright ideas of how we're going to get out of this mess?"

"No," replied Carter without raising his head.

"You're feeling pretty lousy, aren't you," Benton commented.

"I'm fine."

"Well Carter, I don't think you're fine if you don't even have enough strength to lift your head up," Benton said with a hint of sarcasm.

Carter lifted up his head but didn't look at Benton. His face was flushed and dotted with droplets of sweat. Carter ran his hand through his hair brushing the limp strands away from his forehead. His eyes were glazed and without even touching him, Benton knew he was running a fever.

"I'm sorry about this," Carter said, his face plainly miserable.

"Huh?" Benton looked at Carter with confusion for a few seconds but then realization set in as to what Carter was saying. "Carter...this isn't your fault."

"Yeah and Romano's a real pussycat," replied Carter.

Benton smirked but then his face turned serious again. "Listen Carter. It's not your fault that you were born with money and it certainly isn't your fault that these guys have decided to try to capitalize on that fact. We have enough to worry about without you beating yourself up about something that you can't change. We have to keep our heads on straight if we're going to get out of this."

Carter nodded in agreement. "Okay," he said. He knew that what Benton was saying was true.

Once again Benton reached for the container of water and held it out to Carter. "Please?" he asked.

Carter relented as he took the container from Benton and drank some of the water. He winced as the water first hit his throat which was very sore. After he drank he carefully wiped the bottle with the bottom of his T-shirt. "I hope you don't get sick too."

"I won't."

They sat in silence for a while just watching the candles. Then Benton spoke again. "I wonder how much money these guys are looking for?"

"I don't know," Carter shook his head slowly. "They know my family is loaded. I'd say its quite a bit."

Benton chuckled. "I hope that they're including me in your deal. If they go to my family I think I'm up a creek."

Carter smiled. "I'm sure my family can come up with enough for the two of us."

"Yeah well..." Whatever Benton was about to say was lost as they heard the sound of someone fiddling with the lock outside the door. Both men tensed as they waited for the door to open.

Bill and Frank entered the cell with their guns drawn. "You just stay sitting," said Frank to Benton who had started to rise to his feet. He sat back down reluctantly watching the men guardedly.

"You. Get up," Bill ordered waving his gun at Carter. He warily got to his feet fighting back a slight wave of dizziness. "Come on, move," he said as he shoved Carter towards the door.

"What's going on?" asked Benton, a worried expression on his face. "Where are you taking him?"

"Now don't you worry about a thing, doc," said Frank, an ugly sneer on his face. "If he does what we tell him, no one will get hurt." He slammed the door and locked it leaving an anxious Benton behind.



The three men went up the stairs to the main part of the building. Tony was waiting, lazily leafing through the Chicago Sun Times. "Hey those White Sox have been on a tear lately," he said. "I'm gonna have to get some bets going on them."

"Well, we should have plenty of money for that soon enough, said Frank with a grin. He reached into a cooler and pulled out a beer.

Bill ignored the two men, preferring to get right down to business. "Okay doc, here's the deal," began Bill handing Carter a sheet of paper. "I want you to read this into the tape recorder and try to sound convincing. I'd have you call your family but we are too far out for a cell phone. Please don't screw around or change any words or you and your friend will be very sorry."

"That's right doc," said Frank, laughing, a beer in one hand and his gun in the other. He playfully aimed the gun at Carter's head and then abruptly jerked it away, shooting the gun out an open window. "You'll get a bullet in your brain if you mess with us!"

Carter jumped as the gun exploded. This guy was definitely not to be messed with. He had a crazed look about him and Carter had no doubt that he would think nothing of shooting them.

"What the hell are you doing, Frank?" asked Bill, angered. He glared at Tony. "I thought you said this guy was good."

"Aw loosen up Bill," said Tony. "He's just letting off a little steam. Anyhow, it will give his buddy something to think about."

Bill sighed. It seemed that Tony had changed a lot in the years Bill had spent in prison. He was beginning to think he should have been more careful in his choice of partners but it was too late now. He would just have to make due with what he had. He handed the microphone of the recorder to Carter. "You're on. Make it good."

Carter cleared his throat and started to read. "Hi, it's John. I'm not sure where I am but it's impossible to reach you by phone. Dr. Benton and I are being held for ransom. These men want fifteen million dollars. I truly believe if you do what they want that Dr. Benton and I will be released unharmed. If you contact the police or refuse to pay," he paused for a moment before continuing, "they will kill us both."

"Very, very good, Dr. Carter," said Bill, a wide grin on his face. "You got it on the first try. Just for that you're going to get a reward." He grabbed a large black duffel bag that was lying on the floor. "Frank, will you grab a couple more jugs of water?"

"Let's get going," Bill said to Carter. "Your pal must be worried."



Down in the cell Benton was practically out of his head with worry. He had heard the gunshot and his mind and his heart were racing. Had those bastards ruthlessly killed Carter in cold blood? Had they wounded him? Were they coming back to kill him too or were they just going to leave him here to rot. Frankly he would rather be shot too if those were his only options. He frantically paced back and forth like a caged animal, then stopped short, his body filled with tension as he heard the lock being opened.

Frank stepped into the cell holding two jugs of water in one hand and the guy in the other. "We're baaaack," he said in a singsong voice, as he shoved the water at Benton. "Take these."

Benton took the two containers of water and put them on the floor beside the other one. He then breathed a sigh of relief as an apparently unscathed Carter reentered the cell with Bill behind him.

"What's up doc," cackled Frank. "Did we scare you? Did you think your little buddy was dead?"

Benton grabbed Carter by the arm and pulled him protectively away from the two men. "I heard a shot. Did they hurt you?"

Carter shook his head. "No they were just messing with us," he said in a low voice, barely above a whisper.

"Relax, Dr. Benton," said Bill. "He did very, very well. He even earned the two of you a reward. You would have been very proud of him." He tossed the duffel bag he was carrying over near the water jugs.

"Well, I guess we'll be off," he said. "We'll be collecting our money and with any luck we won't be seeing you two again in this lifetime."

A growing sense of dread came over Carter as Bill's words registered. "What? You're just going to leave us locked down here?" he asked, his voice cracking.

Benton started to move towards the men angrily. "You can't just leave us here, its inhuman!"

"Back off doc," Bill said as both men raised their guns. "If everything goes as planned the next face you see will be whoever comes to rescue you. Once we collect our money and are on our way, we'll contact someone and let them know where you are."

"No wait!," shouted Carter, becoming more and more panicked. "You won't be able to reach my parents. They're out of the country. I don't know when they'll be back. You can't just leave us here!"

Frank's eyes filled with rage at Carter's words. "Out of the country?!" he bellowed. "Why you little punk!" Before anybody had a chance to react he raised his gun at Carter and pulled the trigger.

The impact of the bullet threw Carter against the wall as it entered his left shoulder.

"You idiot!" Bill screamed. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"You heard him," yelled Frank angrily. "His parents are out of the country! We won't get squat for this. It was just a big waste of time. I'll kill him. I'll kill them both!"

"Shut up! You're not going to kill anybody." Bill said vehemently. "I knew his parents were out of the country," he said slowly emphasizing each word. "If you had bothered to ask me I could have told you that we were going to his grandparents for the money."

Benton debated making some kind of move while the two men were quarreling but decided it would be futile. He turned his attention to Carter who was leaning against the wall, a dazed look on his face, his blood quickly changing the whiteness of his T-shirt to red.

"Carter, come on, lay down," Benton gently helped Carter to the floor.

Carter's face was deathly white as he tried to ignore the hot pain that was igniting his shoulder. He closed his eyes, as he listened to the sound of Benton ripping his shirt in order to better examine him.

"No exit wound. The bullet is still in there," murmured Benton. He quickly took off his own shirt pulling off his t-shirt underneath and carefully folding it into a pad. He then used this to apply pressure on the wound in order to try to stop the bleeding. Carter remained silent, trying to make his mind a blank although it was difficult. He was starting to feel very sleepy and could feel himself drifting off.

"Carter come on man, stay with me," Those words jarred Carter back into alertness. They were the same words Benton had used when he had been on his way up to the OR after having been stabbed by Paul Sobricki.

"You're always saving my ass, aren't you," he said.

"Yeah well you're always getting yourself into these scrapes," replied Benton trying to keep his tone light. "Someone has got to get you out of them."

Bill walked over, a look of concern on his face. "How is he?" he asked.

"He needs some proper medical attention," said Benton.

"You're a doctor aren't you?" said Frank snidely from across the room.

"I don't have anything to take care of this here," said Benton. "He needs surgery to get this bullet out of his shoulder. He needs bandages and antibiotics. He can't stay here. We have to get him to a hospital."

"I'm very sorry this happened," said Bill quietly. "I didn't mean for anybody to get hurt."

"Well, if you're really sorry," said Benton, "You'll let us go so I can get him some help."

"There's some stuff you will need in the bag," said Bill as he started to back away towards the door. "Blankets and food...We'll send help. I promise."

"What? No!" Benton said, an incredulous look on his face. He got up and started to sprint across the room after Bill. The door was slammed before he reached it. Benton pounded on the door in frustration. "You can't leave us in here!" he hollered. "At least let us out of the cell! Damn you! Give us some kind of a chance!!" Benton's urgent pleas were met with only the gradually fading footsteps of the two men as they ascended up the stairs and then silence. He bowed his head in dismay and then headed back to try to help Carter as best he could.



End of Part 3