`This is a piece of fan fiction. It is written for pleasure and not for
profit. The characters Steve and Mark Sloan, Jesse Travis and Amanda
Bentley/Livingstone and Captain Newman are borrowed for the purposes of
this story. All other characters are my own.
Summary: A woman from Steve's past returns to his life and drags him into an international incident where it's unclear who can be trusted. His involvement with her threatens his relationships with all those he loves. Who is she and why does she have such an effect on him? Despite his unexplained behaviour will Mark, Jesse and Amanda be able to help him solve the crimes and stay alive.
(Thanks (I think!) to my friend Lesley who before I'd even finished the last story said- I've got this scene….. and that's where I started.)
This story contains some violence so I would rate it PG
OUT OF THE PAST
Part 1 - A voice out of time.
Steve curled his body round the sleeping form next to him, feeling the warmth of the soft skin against his. He listened to the ravages of the autumn storm that raged outside, the contrast of which served to make him feel even more secure and content holding the woman he loved under the warm covers. He settled down to a peaceful and contented sleep.
He had been seeing Alison for almost two months now and after all of his disastrous relationships of the past, it finally looked like he might have found someone with whom he could share his life .
It was early days yet but Alison was smart, beautiful and independent and everybody, especially Steve, loved her. They had been spending more and more time together and for the last week or so had stayed together every night at her place or at his. On the occasions that she had stayed at the beach house they had even started eating breakfast upstairs with Mark. It seemed so natural and comfortable as though she was already part of the family.
It was a long time since Steve could remember feeling so happy.
Suddenly the peace was disturbed by a ringing phone. 'What now?' he thought, lamenting the fact that he was a homicide detective. He picked up the receiver.
The woman ran through the night. She was wearing a light dress and thin coat that were no match against the storm. They had both become soaked through long ago. Her dark hair was plastered down against her forehead forming straggled trails that contrasted with her porcelain pale skin. Her feet pounded against the pavement making her thin shoes squelch as water was forced out of them only to fill again as the rain and groundwater soaked back into them.
Her breathing was ragged and uneven as she ran on, occasionally looking behind her, afraid of what she might see, but even more afraid not to look. If they had found her, were catching up with her, she had to know.
She spotted the telephone box up ahead when she was still a quarter of a mile from it. She had just been getting to the point of exhaustion, where she did not feel she could go on any more. Her legs felt like lead, her muscles refused to respond properly and her tortured lungs hurt with every breath, as she forced air in and out. The sight of the telephone gave her renewed hope, a goal to aim for, she forced her tired body on.
Reaching the phone she pulled the door open and threw herself inside. Leaning heavily against the side of the booth she attempted to gather her thoughts, but now that the headlong flight and physical exertion had stopped a wave of emotion claimed her, and she began to sob hysterically. Unable to think, unable to focus, the fear and distress washed over her. All she could do was lean back and cry.
It was the headlights of a passing car that finally snapped her back to her senses. As it appeared a flood of adrenaline coursed through her system as fear gripped her. Her stomach knotted and she held her breath until it drove past and was well out of sight. Eventually she released the breath in a long sigh and, with a new clarity of thought, she made the decision to do something that she had sworn to herself she would never do.
She fumbled around in her pocket and pulled out a small black address book. The edges were damp and she prayed that the rain water had not obscured the entries. She turned quickly to find the page she was looking for, and then ran her finger across all of the crossings out, until she found the number she needed. She then turned her attention to the phone. She searched her pockets again and mercifully found some change. Picking up the receiver she dialled.
Suddenly the peace was disturbed by a ringing phone. 'What now?' Steve thought, lamenting the fact that he was a homicide detective. He picked up the receiver. "Sloan here," he answered as he heard it connect.
"Steve," a hesitant female voice said from the other end. "Steve, it's me"
Steve sat bolt upright in bed instantly alert and awake. His movement was so sharp that Alison stirred "What's up," she slurred still half asleep.
Steve managed to drag his mind back from the whirlwind of thoughts, memories and emotions that were assaulting it long enough to cover the receiver and say "Sh it's nothing, go back to sleep." Alison rolled over reassured and drifted obediently back to sleep.
Steve turned his attention back to the phone in his hand. There had been a long pause the voice at the other end of the line sounded panicky as it asked "Steve… are you there?"
"Yes," Steve answered his voice sounded a little shaky. "I'm here. My god it's really you isn't it? It's really you?"
There was relief from the woman at the other end. He still remembered her. For the first time in days she relaxed a little. "Yes, It's really me."
From her voice Steve could tell that she had smiled when she had repeated the word 'really' no doubt amused by his disbelief but it had been… Steve took a moment to work it out. It had been thirty years since he had last seen her and yet at the sound of her voice all of the intervening time had melted away, all of the memories and emotions were as sharp, as raw as if it had only been yesterday.
Lost in his thoughts there had been another long pause when he had not spoken. "Emma," he finally whispered.
"Yes, Steve."
He closed his eyes and shook his head trying to clear it. "What?… How can?… Why?…" He started to ask some of the questions that were forming in his mind, but the emotional assault was so strong he didn't know how to start. He couldn't keep the thought patterns straight enough to ask anything coherent.
"Steve," she interrupted him. "Do you remember what the last thing you ever said to me was?"
The image of that final meeting was engraved on his soul. "Yes I remember," he said his voice quiet and tight as he endeavoured to control the emotions that the memory was evoking. "I said that if you ever needed me I would be there for you."
"And did you mean it?"
"You know I did."
"Then I need you Steve. I need you now."
"Where?"
"I'm not exactly sure. I'm in a phone booth on a link road North of the city."
"Give me the number, I'll find it." Steve said grabbing a pen and a piece of scrap paper. She read out the number from the phone. "Stay put I'll be there within the hour."
"OK Thanks."
"Emma.." Steve started.
"Yes?"
Steve had so many questions, so much that he wanted to know, he still did not know where to start. "Nothing, I'll get there as soon as I can." He hung up and started to get dressed.
Emma leant back in the phone booth and allowed herself a little hope. Maybe she could survive this after all. Then she decided that she couldn't stay where she was, it was too visible to anyone passing on the road. She would be too easy a target. Reluctantly she left the shelter that it provided and moved back out into the wind and rain of the storm. She moved off the road and slipped behind some trees, taking up a hiding place where she could clearly see both the road and the phone. She settled down to wait.
When Steve was ready he looked over at the bed and thought for the first time about what he was doing, up to now he had just been reacting. Here he was dashing out in the middle of the night, in the middle of a storm, to meet up with a woman he hadn't seen in thirty years. He thought about trying to explain it to Alison and knew that he couldn't. He equally knew that he had to go. Whatever it cost him, she had asked for his help and he had to go.
He resolved to leave Alison a note. He would explain it to her when he knew more himself. He found a pen and paper
Alison,
Got called out at around 2am.
Did not want to wake you.
Give my love to dad.
See you tomorrow,
love Steve.
He read it back to himself, satisfied he left it on the pillow. He had not lied to her, the fact that she would assume that it was police business and it wasn't couldn't be helped. He collected his things and left as quietly as he could.
Steve had got a location on the phone booth by calling it in to dispatch. He pulled out on the highway and drove as quickly as he dared through the raging wind and torrential rain. His thoughts and emotions were in turmoil as he drove on autopilot, not really consciously seeing where he was or thinking about his driving, somehow he kept his vehicle on the road and headed in the right direction. After about thirty minutes driving he knew he was close and he began scanning the roadside for the phone booth.
The man entered the office holding a piece of paper. "Excuse me sir but we just picked something up from the local police dispatch within the search area." He spoke hesitantly unsure of how his superior would react. "A local police detective requested the location of a phone booth, he did not give a reason. It could be nothing….. but you told us to monitor for anything unusual...and" The young man was nervous and sweating. He knew from bitter experience that it did not do to bother his superior unnecessarily.
"Call Dobbs get him to check it out," the older man interrupted, curtly.
"Yes sir," the young man said relieved, being told to react to information was the closest he ever got to approval from his boss, who was reticent about giving praise. If only he were equally reticent about showing his displeasure. The man turned and left the office to make the call.
Steve saw the phone booth up ahead and slowed down. His stomach was full of butterflies as though he were a teenager again about to go on a first date. His emotions whirled from anticipation to joy to pain to anxiety and back again, so fast that he could not follow them. By the time he brought his vehicle to a stop he was exhausted from the emotional onslaught.
As he stared at the glass sides of the booth and realised it was empty his feelings did another cartwheel. Where was she? Was he in the right place? Was he too late? Had he imagined the whole thing? A combination of fear and uncertainty took over. He climbed out of the truck ignoring the driving rain and ran over to the booth. He pulled the door open and checked the number. It was the one she had given him. Damn, where was she?
"Steve?"
The voice came from behind him. He recognised it instantly just as he had recognised it less than an hour earlier on the phone. He whirled round and caught his breath. Thirty years and half a world away since he had last seen her, and still she took his breath away.
The rain had soaked through his clothing and plastered his hair against his skin. It ran in rivulets down his cheek but he did not even notice it. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. All he could do was stand and stare at this vision from his past.
"You came," she stated.
Finally he found his voice. "Did you ever doubt it?"
She considered the question. "No, I knew that if I asked you would come." She took a step closer to him. "Thank you."
She was standing barely a foot away and he reached out his hand but he could not bring himself to touch her. Instead he traced the outline of her face with his fingers a few centimetres away caressing the air with his touch. It was as though he was afraid that actually making contact would shatter the illusion and she would disappear again. "My God you're still beautiful," he said. His voice barely above a whisper. He dropped his arm back to his side.
She stepped even closer and reached out and touched his arm. He caught his breath again. It was as though she'd sent an electric shock through his system with her touch. The physical contact sent his mind reeling again. He had been operating in a half daze, not sure if this was real or illusion, but now that he felt her touch on his skin, he knew that it was real. She was real. The woman he had given his heart to so long ago and thought he would never see again was standing before him.
She moved closer still and cupped his face in her hand. There was that jolt of electricity again. She gently pulled his head down to hers, he did not resist. Their lips met and the sensation was a thousand times stronger than the touch as every nerve ending in his body seemed to fire in response. The kiss lasted only a few seconds but it felt like an eternity and then she pulled back.
"Thank you," she said again.
Steve was confused not sure why he was being thanked. He asked the question. "What for?"
"For being the only man…." She paused and corrected herself. "For being the only person I know I can trust."
Part 2 - Captured
The moment he had heard her voice Steve had been lost to her again. Now that he stood facing her he was overwhelmed by the emotions that he felt. He stood and stared at her in the dim of the street lights.
Emma too was overwhelmed, in all those years she had kept track of him, followed his life and career, she had never dared contact him. She had known how she would feel and she had been right. As she stood and stared into his steel blue eyes, she regretted again the mistake she had made all of those years before when she had walked away from him. She loved him now as she had loved him then.
Neither of them was sure what to do or say next so they both just stood and stared as the rain beat down on them and the wind whipped through their thin clothing but neither of them noticed.
How long they would have remained just standing and staring at each other they would never know. Seemingly from nowhere their two assailants appeared and broke their trance. The sound of the two men approaching had been covered by the storm. Their movement only noticed when it was too late to do anything.
Steve felt the cold muzzle of the pistol in his back at the same instant that he saw the man appear behind Emma, her eyes widening with fear.
Emma's first reaction was one of shock. She had been through so much and just when she was starting to hope, they had found her, caught her. She had let her guard down for a minute when Steve had arrived and now it was all over. 'When Steve had arrived!' Her expression changed from one of terror to one of betrayal. So she couldn't trust him after all. The only way they could have found her so quickly was if Steve had led them here!
"Freeze," The man behind Steve said unnecessarily. The gun in the small of Steve's back precluded him from taking any other than suicidal action. "Hands in the air."
Both Steve and Emma raised their hands but, apart from following his instructions, Steve's attention was not on the gun man it was on Emma. He watched the emotions play across her face. First fear, no, stronger than that, terror at the realisation that these men were here. She knew them. Then her expression changed. She looked him directly in the eyes accusingly, the suggestion of betrayal written clearly in her features as she voiced her charge. "Steve? You brought them here. I thought I could trust you! I just told you….."
"No," Steve interrupted horrified by what she was thinking of him. "I don't know how… I didn't bring them here. You have to believe me." He looked at her pleadingly, willing her not to think badly of him.
The man behind Steve was not interested in their conversation. He pushed Steve roughly forward. "Stand over there with her."
Steve stumbled toward Emma until he was standing at her side. He held her gaze as he moved, still ignoring for the moment the men with guns. It was important to him that she believed in him, that she maintained that faith which she had clearly held from when they had last met. The faith that he was someone she could trust.
"Please, you were right, you can trust me." He searched her face for a sign that she believed him. "It wasn't me."
As quickly as she'd doubted him Emma knew that she was wrong. The expression on Steve's face, the tone of his voice, his body language, everything about him told her that he was as surprised as she had been. He had not betrayed her. He could not betray anyone. How ever Dobbs had found her it had not been with Steve's help.
Only moments before she had told Steve she could trust him and had seen the pleasure in his eyes that her faith in him had brought. Now she could equally see the pain she had inflicted by her rapid change and accusation. She regretted the chain of events, no before that, the life, that had made her so mistrustful, so willing to believe that anyone and everyone would lie, cheat and betray you in their own interest. She smiled at Steve trying to repair the hurt. "No, I'm sorry, I know you didn't. I meant what I said earlier- I trust you."
Relieved Steve smiled back, still interested only in his companion. He was dragged back to the reality of their predicament as the man who had pushed him ordered the other to frisk them both.
Obeying his orders, the younger of the two men started with Steve, making a very thorough and professional job of checking him for weapons. Steve had nothing on him. His wallet, ID and gun were all in the glove compartment of his truck.
When the man had finished frisking him and had moved on to Emma, Steve looked properly for the first time at the man who now held a gun on them. He was in his early forties, around 6', balding and heavy set. The years had not been kind to him. His skin hung more loosely than it should and was creased with lines that belonged on the face of an older man. The scowl that he now wore did not enhance his appearance. He wore a dark suit and overcoat and had an air of authority about him. He was clearly used to giving his companion orders.
"Who are you? What do you want?" Steve asked looking the man straight in the eye. He did not want to declare himself as a police officer until he knew what he was dealing with and was relieved that he did not have his badge on him for them to find.
"I don't think you're in any position to ask questions." The man replied making a slight motion with his gun to emphasise the point. "Besides Mrs Fielding knows only to well who I am, don't you?"
Steve turned to look at Emma. The look of terror had returned to her face. "Yes, I know who you are Dobbs." Despite her fear she could not control her hatred and anger. "You're a traitor and a murderer." She almost spat the last words.
"My, my you do have some guts. I'll give you that." Dobbs said looking her directly in the eye. She returned his stare. "But if I'm so bad why don't I just kill you now?"
"Because you want some information from me." Emma replied the hostility clear in her voice.
"Yes and you know how important that information is."
"Important enough for you to kill for?" Anger and fear fought for control as Emma continued to stare the man down.
Steve stood and watched the exchange trying to decide what to do. He had no idea what they were talking about or what he had involved himself in.
"Possibly, but you are wrong about me I am no traitor. Just tell me what I need to know and we can wrap this whole thing up here and now." Dobbs continued.
"You know I'll never tell you." Emma replied defiantly
"Then we'll have to try some persuasion." Dobbs nodded to his companion who moved to strike Emma.
Despite the threat of the gun Steve moved in to block the blow. Emma was forced back as Steve placed himself between her and the other man who now fortunately shielded Steve from Dobbs' view, so that he could not get a clean shot.
Having blocked the blow cleanly with his left hand Steve followed with a punch to the man's abdomen with his right. The would be attacker cried out in pain and doubled over slightly. Steve brought his left hand back down and struck the man cleanly across the jaw. Recovering a little the man did the only thing he could to prevent taking further punishment and moving forward he grabbed Steve, pulling him in so that he did not have the room to punch, in a classic boxer's hold. They grappled like this for a few seconds. Steve used his superior strength to begin to push the man away.
By this time however Dobbs had repositioned himself. He struck Steve with the butt of his gun hard across the back of his neck.
Steve felt the sharp pain just above his shoulder blades at the same time as he heard Emma's yelled warning and then the world around him phased out for a second or two. As his senses began to return he realised that he was lying on the wet road with Emma kneeling beside him. He looked up directly into the barrel of Dobbs' gun. The man he had fought was dabbing at some blood running down from his lip. Steve decided that the best course of action was to pretend that he had been hurt worse than he was and hopefully persuade them to let their guard down. So he groaned and dropped his head back down onto his arm.
Emma looked up at the man she already hated with renewed animosity. "Leave him alone he's not part of this." She said concerned at the pain Steve was already suffering for her. Why had she called him? It was her fault that he was now in danger.
Dobbs grinned at her. "Maybe I was using the wrong strategy," he said. "You two seem to be more than just acquaintances Mrs Fielding. I wonder if your husband knew about this? Anyway, if you won't talk to save yourself, maybe you'll talk to save your 'friend' here" He nodded slightly at the other man who smiled appreciatively. He drew back his foot and aimed a violent kick at Steve's ribs.
The whole of Steve's side exploded in pain taking his breath away and wiping his mind momentarily of all other thought. A yell escaped his lips as the air was forced from his lungs and he rolled on to his side clutching at the site of the pain with his hands. For a couple of minutes he did not have to pretend to be incapacitated.
"No!" Emma yelled as she watched the violent attack. She looked up at Dobbs "Stop it. Don't hurt him."
Dobbs kept his voice impassive as he said. "Then tell us what we want to know."
"I can't," the frightened woman replied.
With a slight nod from Dobbs the next kick impacted Steve's abdomen.
"No!" Emma yelled again. "Stop please. You have to stop this."
Dobbs bent closer to her. "Then give us the information."
Emma was close to hysterics now, tears were streaming down her cheeks. "I can't tell you.." She saw Dobbs about to move again. "No please, you have to believe me I can't tell you because I don't remember." Emma was now telling the truth. No more bravado, no more running away. She could not let them hurt Steve any more because of her. She knew what these men wanted but the truth was she had lost her memory, at least of the piece of information they needed from her. She now had to convince them that that was the truth.
The man kicked Steve again. He groaned loudly and tried to curl into a ball. His hands moving protectively across his face.
"No!" Emma screamed. "Stop, I honestly don't remember. You have to believe me. You have to stop." Each word was now accompanied by a sob as her hysteria rose. How could she convince them she was telling the truth?
"I'm tired of this." Dobbs said. "Let's just shoot him and get out of here." He aimed the comment at his companion.
Emma gasped. Dobbs turned to look at her. "Unless you give me a good reason not to," he cocked the trigger and pointed the gun at Steve's head.
Emma stared up at him. Time seemed to stand still as the hammer drew back. She knew that there was only one thing that would save Steve's life. The information that Dobbs wanted and she did not know what that information was!
Summary: A woman from Steve's past returns to his life and drags him into an international incident where it's unclear who can be trusted. His involvement with her threatens his relationships with all those he loves. Who is she and why does she have such an effect on him? Despite his unexplained behaviour will Mark, Jesse and Amanda be able to help him solve the crimes and stay alive.
(Thanks (I think!) to my friend Lesley who before I'd even finished the last story said- I've got this scene….. and that's where I started.)
This story contains some violence so I would rate it PG
OUT OF THE PAST
Part 1 - A voice out of time.
Steve curled his body round the sleeping form next to him, feeling the warmth of the soft skin against his. He listened to the ravages of the autumn storm that raged outside, the contrast of which served to make him feel even more secure and content holding the woman he loved under the warm covers. He settled down to a peaceful and contented sleep.
He had been seeing Alison for almost two months now and after all of his disastrous relationships of the past, it finally looked like he might have found someone with whom he could share his life .
It was early days yet but Alison was smart, beautiful and independent and everybody, especially Steve, loved her. They had been spending more and more time together and for the last week or so had stayed together every night at her place or at his. On the occasions that she had stayed at the beach house they had even started eating breakfast upstairs with Mark. It seemed so natural and comfortable as though she was already part of the family.
It was a long time since Steve could remember feeling so happy.
Suddenly the peace was disturbed by a ringing phone. 'What now?' he thought, lamenting the fact that he was a homicide detective. He picked up the receiver.
The woman ran through the night. She was wearing a light dress and thin coat that were no match against the storm. They had both become soaked through long ago. Her dark hair was plastered down against her forehead forming straggled trails that contrasted with her porcelain pale skin. Her feet pounded against the pavement making her thin shoes squelch as water was forced out of them only to fill again as the rain and groundwater soaked back into them.
Her breathing was ragged and uneven as she ran on, occasionally looking behind her, afraid of what she might see, but even more afraid not to look. If they had found her, were catching up with her, she had to know.
She spotted the telephone box up ahead when she was still a quarter of a mile from it. She had just been getting to the point of exhaustion, where she did not feel she could go on any more. Her legs felt like lead, her muscles refused to respond properly and her tortured lungs hurt with every breath, as she forced air in and out. The sight of the telephone gave her renewed hope, a goal to aim for, she forced her tired body on.
Reaching the phone she pulled the door open and threw herself inside. Leaning heavily against the side of the booth she attempted to gather her thoughts, but now that the headlong flight and physical exertion had stopped a wave of emotion claimed her, and she began to sob hysterically. Unable to think, unable to focus, the fear and distress washed over her. All she could do was lean back and cry.
It was the headlights of a passing car that finally snapped her back to her senses. As it appeared a flood of adrenaline coursed through her system as fear gripped her. Her stomach knotted and she held her breath until it drove past and was well out of sight. Eventually she released the breath in a long sigh and, with a new clarity of thought, she made the decision to do something that she had sworn to herself she would never do.
She fumbled around in her pocket and pulled out a small black address book. The edges were damp and she prayed that the rain water had not obscured the entries. She turned quickly to find the page she was looking for, and then ran her finger across all of the crossings out, until she found the number she needed. She then turned her attention to the phone. She searched her pockets again and mercifully found some change. Picking up the receiver she dialled.
Suddenly the peace was disturbed by a ringing phone. 'What now?' Steve thought, lamenting the fact that he was a homicide detective. He picked up the receiver. "Sloan here," he answered as he heard it connect.
"Steve," a hesitant female voice said from the other end. "Steve, it's me"
Steve sat bolt upright in bed instantly alert and awake. His movement was so sharp that Alison stirred "What's up," she slurred still half asleep.
Steve managed to drag his mind back from the whirlwind of thoughts, memories and emotions that were assaulting it long enough to cover the receiver and say "Sh it's nothing, go back to sleep." Alison rolled over reassured and drifted obediently back to sleep.
Steve turned his attention back to the phone in his hand. There had been a long pause the voice at the other end of the line sounded panicky as it asked "Steve… are you there?"
"Yes," Steve answered his voice sounded a little shaky. "I'm here. My god it's really you isn't it? It's really you?"
There was relief from the woman at the other end. He still remembered her. For the first time in days she relaxed a little. "Yes, It's really me."
From her voice Steve could tell that she had smiled when she had repeated the word 'really' no doubt amused by his disbelief but it had been… Steve took a moment to work it out. It had been thirty years since he had last seen her and yet at the sound of her voice all of the intervening time had melted away, all of the memories and emotions were as sharp, as raw as if it had only been yesterday.
Lost in his thoughts there had been another long pause when he had not spoken. "Emma," he finally whispered.
"Yes, Steve."
He closed his eyes and shook his head trying to clear it. "What?… How can?… Why?…" He started to ask some of the questions that were forming in his mind, but the emotional assault was so strong he didn't know how to start. He couldn't keep the thought patterns straight enough to ask anything coherent.
"Steve," she interrupted him. "Do you remember what the last thing you ever said to me was?"
The image of that final meeting was engraved on his soul. "Yes I remember," he said his voice quiet and tight as he endeavoured to control the emotions that the memory was evoking. "I said that if you ever needed me I would be there for you."
"And did you mean it?"
"You know I did."
"Then I need you Steve. I need you now."
"Where?"
"I'm not exactly sure. I'm in a phone booth on a link road North of the city."
"Give me the number, I'll find it." Steve said grabbing a pen and a piece of scrap paper. She read out the number from the phone. "Stay put I'll be there within the hour."
"OK Thanks."
"Emma.." Steve started.
"Yes?"
Steve had so many questions, so much that he wanted to know, he still did not know where to start. "Nothing, I'll get there as soon as I can." He hung up and started to get dressed.
Emma leant back in the phone booth and allowed herself a little hope. Maybe she could survive this after all. Then she decided that she couldn't stay where she was, it was too visible to anyone passing on the road. She would be too easy a target. Reluctantly she left the shelter that it provided and moved back out into the wind and rain of the storm. She moved off the road and slipped behind some trees, taking up a hiding place where she could clearly see both the road and the phone. She settled down to wait.
When Steve was ready he looked over at the bed and thought for the first time about what he was doing, up to now he had just been reacting. Here he was dashing out in the middle of the night, in the middle of a storm, to meet up with a woman he hadn't seen in thirty years. He thought about trying to explain it to Alison and knew that he couldn't. He equally knew that he had to go. Whatever it cost him, she had asked for his help and he had to go.
He resolved to leave Alison a note. He would explain it to her when he knew more himself. He found a pen and paper
Alison,
Got called out at around 2am.
Did not want to wake you.
Give my love to dad.
See you tomorrow,
love Steve.
He read it back to himself, satisfied he left it on the pillow. He had not lied to her, the fact that she would assume that it was police business and it wasn't couldn't be helped. He collected his things and left as quietly as he could.
Steve had got a location on the phone booth by calling it in to dispatch. He pulled out on the highway and drove as quickly as he dared through the raging wind and torrential rain. His thoughts and emotions were in turmoil as he drove on autopilot, not really consciously seeing where he was or thinking about his driving, somehow he kept his vehicle on the road and headed in the right direction. After about thirty minutes driving he knew he was close and he began scanning the roadside for the phone booth.
The man entered the office holding a piece of paper. "Excuse me sir but we just picked something up from the local police dispatch within the search area." He spoke hesitantly unsure of how his superior would react. "A local police detective requested the location of a phone booth, he did not give a reason. It could be nothing….. but you told us to monitor for anything unusual...and" The young man was nervous and sweating. He knew from bitter experience that it did not do to bother his superior unnecessarily.
"Call Dobbs get him to check it out," the older man interrupted, curtly.
"Yes sir," the young man said relieved, being told to react to information was the closest he ever got to approval from his boss, who was reticent about giving praise. If only he were equally reticent about showing his displeasure. The man turned and left the office to make the call.
Steve saw the phone booth up ahead and slowed down. His stomach was full of butterflies as though he were a teenager again about to go on a first date. His emotions whirled from anticipation to joy to pain to anxiety and back again, so fast that he could not follow them. By the time he brought his vehicle to a stop he was exhausted from the emotional onslaught.
As he stared at the glass sides of the booth and realised it was empty his feelings did another cartwheel. Where was she? Was he in the right place? Was he too late? Had he imagined the whole thing? A combination of fear and uncertainty took over. He climbed out of the truck ignoring the driving rain and ran over to the booth. He pulled the door open and checked the number. It was the one she had given him. Damn, where was she?
"Steve?"
The voice came from behind him. He recognised it instantly just as he had recognised it less than an hour earlier on the phone. He whirled round and caught his breath. Thirty years and half a world away since he had last seen her, and still she took his breath away.
The rain had soaked through his clothing and plastered his hair against his skin. It ran in rivulets down his cheek but he did not even notice it. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. All he could do was stand and stare at this vision from his past.
"You came," she stated.
Finally he found his voice. "Did you ever doubt it?"
She considered the question. "No, I knew that if I asked you would come." She took a step closer to him. "Thank you."
She was standing barely a foot away and he reached out his hand but he could not bring himself to touch her. Instead he traced the outline of her face with his fingers a few centimetres away caressing the air with his touch. It was as though he was afraid that actually making contact would shatter the illusion and she would disappear again. "My God you're still beautiful," he said. His voice barely above a whisper. He dropped his arm back to his side.
She stepped even closer and reached out and touched his arm. He caught his breath again. It was as though she'd sent an electric shock through his system with her touch. The physical contact sent his mind reeling again. He had been operating in a half daze, not sure if this was real or illusion, but now that he felt her touch on his skin, he knew that it was real. She was real. The woman he had given his heart to so long ago and thought he would never see again was standing before him.
She moved closer still and cupped his face in her hand. There was that jolt of electricity again. She gently pulled his head down to hers, he did not resist. Their lips met and the sensation was a thousand times stronger than the touch as every nerve ending in his body seemed to fire in response. The kiss lasted only a few seconds but it felt like an eternity and then she pulled back.
"Thank you," she said again.
Steve was confused not sure why he was being thanked. He asked the question. "What for?"
"For being the only man…." She paused and corrected herself. "For being the only person I know I can trust."
Part 2 - Captured
The moment he had heard her voice Steve had been lost to her again. Now that he stood facing her he was overwhelmed by the emotions that he felt. He stood and stared at her in the dim of the street lights.
Emma too was overwhelmed, in all those years she had kept track of him, followed his life and career, she had never dared contact him. She had known how she would feel and she had been right. As she stood and stared into his steel blue eyes, she regretted again the mistake she had made all of those years before when she had walked away from him. She loved him now as she had loved him then.
Neither of them was sure what to do or say next so they both just stood and stared as the rain beat down on them and the wind whipped through their thin clothing but neither of them noticed.
How long they would have remained just standing and staring at each other they would never know. Seemingly from nowhere their two assailants appeared and broke their trance. The sound of the two men approaching had been covered by the storm. Their movement only noticed when it was too late to do anything.
Steve felt the cold muzzle of the pistol in his back at the same instant that he saw the man appear behind Emma, her eyes widening with fear.
Emma's first reaction was one of shock. She had been through so much and just when she was starting to hope, they had found her, caught her. She had let her guard down for a minute when Steve had arrived and now it was all over. 'When Steve had arrived!' Her expression changed from one of terror to one of betrayal. So she couldn't trust him after all. The only way they could have found her so quickly was if Steve had led them here!
"Freeze," The man behind Steve said unnecessarily. The gun in the small of Steve's back precluded him from taking any other than suicidal action. "Hands in the air."
Both Steve and Emma raised their hands but, apart from following his instructions, Steve's attention was not on the gun man it was on Emma. He watched the emotions play across her face. First fear, no, stronger than that, terror at the realisation that these men were here. She knew them. Then her expression changed. She looked him directly in the eyes accusingly, the suggestion of betrayal written clearly in her features as she voiced her charge. "Steve? You brought them here. I thought I could trust you! I just told you….."
"No," Steve interrupted horrified by what she was thinking of him. "I don't know how… I didn't bring them here. You have to believe me." He looked at her pleadingly, willing her not to think badly of him.
The man behind Steve was not interested in their conversation. He pushed Steve roughly forward. "Stand over there with her."
Steve stumbled toward Emma until he was standing at her side. He held her gaze as he moved, still ignoring for the moment the men with guns. It was important to him that she believed in him, that she maintained that faith which she had clearly held from when they had last met. The faith that he was someone she could trust.
"Please, you were right, you can trust me." He searched her face for a sign that she believed him. "It wasn't me."
As quickly as she'd doubted him Emma knew that she was wrong. The expression on Steve's face, the tone of his voice, his body language, everything about him told her that he was as surprised as she had been. He had not betrayed her. He could not betray anyone. How ever Dobbs had found her it had not been with Steve's help.
Only moments before she had told Steve she could trust him and had seen the pleasure in his eyes that her faith in him had brought. Now she could equally see the pain she had inflicted by her rapid change and accusation. She regretted the chain of events, no before that, the life, that had made her so mistrustful, so willing to believe that anyone and everyone would lie, cheat and betray you in their own interest. She smiled at Steve trying to repair the hurt. "No, I'm sorry, I know you didn't. I meant what I said earlier- I trust you."
Relieved Steve smiled back, still interested only in his companion. He was dragged back to the reality of their predicament as the man who had pushed him ordered the other to frisk them both.
Obeying his orders, the younger of the two men started with Steve, making a very thorough and professional job of checking him for weapons. Steve had nothing on him. His wallet, ID and gun were all in the glove compartment of his truck.
When the man had finished frisking him and had moved on to Emma, Steve looked properly for the first time at the man who now held a gun on them. He was in his early forties, around 6', balding and heavy set. The years had not been kind to him. His skin hung more loosely than it should and was creased with lines that belonged on the face of an older man. The scowl that he now wore did not enhance his appearance. He wore a dark suit and overcoat and had an air of authority about him. He was clearly used to giving his companion orders.
"Who are you? What do you want?" Steve asked looking the man straight in the eye. He did not want to declare himself as a police officer until he knew what he was dealing with and was relieved that he did not have his badge on him for them to find.
"I don't think you're in any position to ask questions." The man replied making a slight motion with his gun to emphasise the point. "Besides Mrs Fielding knows only to well who I am, don't you?"
Steve turned to look at Emma. The look of terror had returned to her face. "Yes, I know who you are Dobbs." Despite her fear she could not control her hatred and anger. "You're a traitor and a murderer." She almost spat the last words.
"My, my you do have some guts. I'll give you that." Dobbs said looking her directly in the eye. She returned his stare. "But if I'm so bad why don't I just kill you now?"
"Because you want some information from me." Emma replied the hostility clear in her voice.
"Yes and you know how important that information is."
"Important enough for you to kill for?" Anger and fear fought for control as Emma continued to stare the man down.
Steve stood and watched the exchange trying to decide what to do. He had no idea what they were talking about or what he had involved himself in.
"Possibly, but you are wrong about me I am no traitor. Just tell me what I need to know and we can wrap this whole thing up here and now." Dobbs continued.
"You know I'll never tell you." Emma replied defiantly
"Then we'll have to try some persuasion." Dobbs nodded to his companion who moved to strike Emma.
Despite the threat of the gun Steve moved in to block the blow. Emma was forced back as Steve placed himself between her and the other man who now fortunately shielded Steve from Dobbs' view, so that he could not get a clean shot.
Having blocked the blow cleanly with his left hand Steve followed with a punch to the man's abdomen with his right. The would be attacker cried out in pain and doubled over slightly. Steve brought his left hand back down and struck the man cleanly across the jaw. Recovering a little the man did the only thing he could to prevent taking further punishment and moving forward he grabbed Steve, pulling him in so that he did not have the room to punch, in a classic boxer's hold. They grappled like this for a few seconds. Steve used his superior strength to begin to push the man away.
By this time however Dobbs had repositioned himself. He struck Steve with the butt of his gun hard across the back of his neck.
Steve felt the sharp pain just above his shoulder blades at the same time as he heard Emma's yelled warning and then the world around him phased out for a second or two. As his senses began to return he realised that he was lying on the wet road with Emma kneeling beside him. He looked up directly into the barrel of Dobbs' gun. The man he had fought was dabbing at some blood running down from his lip. Steve decided that the best course of action was to pretend that he had been hurt worse than he was and hopefully persuade them to let their guard down. So he groaned and dropped his head back down onto his arm.
Emma looked up at the man she already hated with renewed animosity. "Leave him alone he's not part of this." She said concerned at the pain Steve was already suffering for her. Why had she called him? It was her fault that he was now in danger.
Dobbs grinned at her. "Maybe I was using the wrong strategy," he said. "You two seem to be more than just acquaintances Mrs Fielding. I wonder if your husband knew about this? Anyway, if you won't talk to save yourself, maybe you'll talk to save your 'friend' here" He nodded slightly at the other man who smiled appreciatively. He drew back his foot and aimed a violent kick at Steve's ribs.
The whole of Steve's side exploded in pain taking his breath away and wiping his mind momentarily of all other thought. A yell escaped his lips as the air was forced from his lungs and he rolled on to his side clutching at the site of the pain with his hands. For a couple of minutes he did not have to pretend to be incapacitated.
"No!" Emma yelled as she watched the violent attack. She looked up at Dobbs "Stop it. Don't hurt him."
Dobbs kept his voice impassive as he said. "Then tell us what we want to know."
"I can't," the frightened woman replied.
With a slight nod from Dobbs the next kick impacted Steve's abdomen.
"No!" Emma yelled again. "Stop please. You have to stop this."
Dobbs bent closer to her. "Then give us the information."
Emma was close to hysterics now, tears were streaming down her cheeks. "I can't tell you.." She saw Dobbs about to move again. "No please, you have to believe me I can't tell you because I don't remember." Emma was now telling the truth. No more bravado, no more running away. She could not let them hurt Steve any more because of her. She knew what these men wanted but the truth was she had lost her memory, at least of the piece of information they needed from her. She now had to convince them that that was the truth.
The man kicked Steve again. He groaned loudly and tried to curl into a ball. His hands moving protectively across his face.
"No!" Emma screamed. "Stop, I honestly don't remember. You have to believe me. You have to stop." Each word was now accompanied by a sob as her hysteria rose. How could she convince them she was telling the truth?
"I'm tired of this." Dobbs said. "Let's just shoot him and get out of here." He aimed the comment at his companion.
Emma gasped. Dobbs turned to look at her. "Unless you give me a good reason not to," he cocked the trigger and pointed the gun at Steve's head.
Emma stared up at him. Time seemed to stand still as the hammer drew back. She knew that there was only one thing that would save Steve's life. The information that Dobbs wanted and she did not know what that information was!