Disclaimer: See previous chapters
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Terror in the Night Part 11
Hour 4 1/2
Cassy's head was starting to clear, and she moved it slowly around the room. Tom still hadn't moved. "Tom? Tom, can you hear me?" He didn't answer and she was worried. She held herself absolutely still and watched him closely until she was sure that the movement from his breathing was real and not just a figment of her imagination. 'Damn,' she thought, 'I don't know if I would hate myself more if hundreds of innocent people died, or if Tom became hurt worse than he already is. She knew if they tried to kill him she wouldn't be able to just let him die. It might be the biggest mistake of her life, but she knew she would have no life if it meant knowing Tom was never going to be there, and that she was responsible for his death. Robert DeSavage was currently across seas trying to bring peace between two small countries in Russia, if he was killed, and worse yet if those around him were killed, the two countries would go to war. It was inevitable without him. Cassy didn't even want to think of what would happen if it was ever discovered that an American had killed him and probably some ambassadors from their own countries as well. She had already committed herself to keeping quiet no matter what they did to her, but could she stand knowing that keeping her mouth shut would also cause Tom harm, when she could stop all his suffering by telling them what they wanted to know? She realized that they had been left alone for almost 15 minutes, and hoped that they would be gone for at least 15 more, she had to get her strength back. She cast another worried look at Tom's oblivious face and tried to justify her actions again by telling herself that she was saving innocent lives, women, children, when on the other hand she would be bringing them death. Their captors were probably going to kill them anyway, there was little doubt left in her mind, after all, they had seen the faces, hell, they even knew their names. DeSavage wasn't stupid enough to actually let them live knowing what they did. Was he? She tried to block that light of hope, it wasn't doing them any good to dream, at the moment dealing with the reality of the situation would be the only thing that would bring them any good.
Hour 4
They were not moving through the list of possible places as fast as Harry would have liked, but he also didn't want to make a stupid mistake that could cost Tom and Cassy their lives because they failed to check each place properly. At the moment they were making phone calls because he didn't have the manpower it would take to check each place physically. The first thing they did was cross off all the places that were out of Palm Beach and that were more than four years old. Most serial killers like DeSavage, who had a thing to revisit crime scenes had a habit of zoning things, of keeping to the scenes he or his victims were closest to at the time and keeping to the most recent, or one in the area that had the greatest significance to him. So by keeping only the most recent and local scenes they cut their list down greatly. So far they had also crossed off five other buildings that had recently been demolished and torn-down. They had about thirty other places in which both DeSavage and death had been involved. Less than four hours to go. Harry refused to think about what was happening to his best detectives. He had a pretty good idea of why DeSavage would want them, and he hoped that if it came down to a life or death situation, the right decision would be made concerning whether or not they continued to keep their mouths shut. But what exactly was the right choice?
Hour 3 1/2
Footsteps startled Cassy out of her doze. She couldn't believe she had actually fallen asleep, or sort of fallen asleep. She hadn't realized just how exhausted her body was. A quick glance at Tom told her he had still not awaken, and she was glad. This time when they came in to 'talk' they would have no choice but to leave Tom alone, after all, an unconscious man wouldn't tell you anything. She pulled herself together and straightened in the chair as the door was pushed open and DeSavage reentered. His short break hadn't given him any idea of what was bothering him. Everything seemed like it was going according to plan, but he was experienced enough to know that just when everything seems perfect and well it pays to be more attentive to the smallest details. A silent appraisal of the room showed him the man who was still out slumped in his chair, and the woman sitting perfectly upright in the chair, in spite of her wounds, looking at him with something akin to defiance. "Sergeant St. John, are we ready to talk?" he asked, walking towards her until he was in front of her chair. A rise of her chin and a narrowing of her eyes is the only response he got to his question. "Still letting that pride hold your tongue, detective? Why will you not tell me something as simple as where my brother is? Keeping your mouth shut will do no one any good, you and your partner will end up dead, and I'll just try again. I won't stop until I find out where he is, don't you think it would be the easiest thing to just tell me?" His eyes had taken on a hard glint belying the softness of his voice. Cassy gave him her best bored look and slowly blinked her eyes, not showing the fear that was coursing through her blood. The slap that followed echoed through the otherwise silent room. She made no sound, she would not let him illicit any response from her. 'Damn it why is it men always hit women on the face?' she wondered, trying not to wince. The next half hour similarly followed suit. Cassy refused to give an inch, and DeSavage proved just as stubborn, not letting up with his fists when she refused to answer. The only consolation Cassy could find, the one other thing that helped her stay quiet was the fact that during the whole time, Tom had been spared any other punishment.
Hour 3
They were down to ten places and they only had three hours left. They only had ten people working on this disaster with them anymore. As much as Harry would have liked to have everyone help, he could understand that just because two of the most important people in his life were being held hostage, that didn't excuse taking away the police protection from someone else's daughter or son or loved one. Minutes seemed like seconds and traffic seemed to put every possible obstacle in their path, doubling the time it would have usually taken to hit the buildings. Sweeps were made as quickly as possible, but with a reasonable amount of caution, after all, if that next building happened to be the right spot, the bad guys were not going to just walk out with their hands in the air, going, "Oh, you got me." DeSavage wasn't the type to let anything go as easy as it should, and had no moral qualms about taking lives to protect his own sorry, worthless ass. About ten minutes later the phone rang. "We just hit the old Holiday Inn on Water St. Nothing there, were heading out to the next one," the officer on the other line spoke quickly and wasted no time before hastily disconnecting the line. Harry swallowed the harsh words that sprang to his tongue, knowing that yelling at the young man wasn't going to help. But, dammit, it made him feel better. His worry needed an outlet and at the moment angry words were the most convenient. They were scheduled to make three more stops, then head back to HQ to switch teams. Some of the men riding with them had been here since last night because it was their day off. After wandering helplessly through the desks scattered across the floor, Harry couldn't stand it any more. As soon as they were back, he was going with them, he could put someone else in charge for the time being, but he couldn't stand not being out there and trying to help find them. He just wished they would hurry up and get back or hurry up and find them.
Hour 2 1/2
"One more place, Captain, then we're heading back to switch." "Fine, I'll be waiting."
Hour 2
Tom fought the wave of nausea that roiled through his stomach. His head was exploding, he could feel it crack piece by piece, the pain almost more than he could bear. He kept fighting through the cloying darkness that seemed to feel that he should stay forever in its grasp. He had to wake up, he had to be there to help, be there for Cassy. Slowly, and ever so slightly he lifted his heavy head. Holding his breath he didn't pause until he could see around the room. DeSavage had come back. The last thing he remembered hearing was the door shut after heavy footsteps that could only belong to that monster left the room. He was now standing with his back to Tom, in front of Cassy's chair. None of the other goons had come back with him. He wondered how long he had been out, and how long Cassy had been in the grips of this madman with no one else to act as a sounding board to his aggressions. DeSavage moved to the side, allowing Tom to see the new bruises forming across her face, and no doubt, other places that he couldn't see. She had finally succumbed to all the stress, physical, mental, emotional, and was now oblivious to the world around her. DeSavage looked at her again, then began to turn around. Quickly, too quickly according to the pain washing over him again, he bowed his head like it had been before. Let him think they were both out, it might give them some time. He could feel DeSavage getting closer to him and willed himself not to give anything away when the standing man slapped his cheek. "Are you awake, detective? Wake up," DeSavage commanded, disappointed that they were both unconscious. Tom held his breath, and hoped his acting skills were good enough to pass DeSavage's scrutiny. He slowly breathed a sigh of relief when the older man turned with frustration towards the door. He waited a beat or two after the lock clicked into place before bringing his head back up to survey the damage done to his partner. She looked bad, real bad. He longed to go to her and make sure she was all right, do anything to ease her pain. Instead he looked around the room for maybe the millionth time since he'd been there, willing, wishing something to change before his eyes to give him some sort of hope that they would make it through this alive. He had realized while he and Cassy had been talking before that even though they both agreed that living as husband and wife wasn't right for them, that he would always love her more than he had said he did, she would always have half of his heart. He needed to tell her that no matter what he would always be there for her, that he could forgive her for anything, even this. He couldn't stand the thought of her dying thinking that he hated her for not speaking, or feeling guilty for anything that happened to him. He trusted her with his life, he always had, this time wasn't any different, he believed that for whatever reason she wasn't saying anything she made the right choice. He prayed with all his soul that they would live through this long enough for him to tell her.
Hour 1 1/2
'Three more places. Just three more. Please, oh please, let it be one of these. If its not, I don't want to think of what's going to happen, we don't have enough time to start over and try to figure it out again.' Harry's blood was full of adrenaline. His heart was pounding against his chest as his men silently surrounded the building. He nodded to the man standing next to the door. The door gave away with a groan. Harry was the second one through the door, his senses more attuned to every movement than they usually were. Five minutes later, it was clear Tom and Cassy were not here, and ten minutes later, the entire building had been searched, cleared and secured. They only had and hour and a half before their time limit ran out. He knew if they were too late, Tom and Cassy were going to be dead. Two more places. He looked at the addresses, willing something to move or appear and lead him to the right place. Nothing so much as flickered across the paper, not that deep down he had ever expected it to, but for some reason he couldn't deny the strange sense of disappointment, or the ever growing feeling of hoplessness.
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Terror in the Night Part 11
Hour 4 1/2
Cassy's head was starting to clear, and she moved it slowly around the room. Tom still hadn't moved. "Tom? Tom, can you hear me?" He didn't answer and she was worried. She held herself absolutely still and watched him closely until she was sure that the movement from his breathing was real and not just a figment of her imagination. 'Damn,' she thought, 'I don't know if I would hate myself more if hundreds of innocent people died, or if Tom became hurt worse than he already is. She knew if they tried to kill him she wouldn't be able to just let him die. It might be the biggest mistake of her life, but she knew she would have no life if it meant knowing Tom was never going to be there, and that she was responsible for his death. Robert DeSavage was currently across seas trying to bring peace between two small countries in Russia, if he was killed, and worse yet if those around him were killed, the two countries would go to war. It was inevitable without him. Cassy didn't even want to think of what would happen if it was ever discovered that an American had killed him and probably some ambassadors from their own countries as well. She had already committed herself to keeping quiet no matter what they did to her, but could she stand knowing that keeping her mouth shut would also cause Tom harm, when she could stop all his suffering by telling them what they wanted to know? She realized that they had been left alone for almost 15 minutes, and hoped that they would be gone for at least 15 more, she had to get her strength back. She cast another worried look at Tom's oblivious face and tried to justify her actions again by telling herself that she was saving innocent lives, women, children, when on the other hand she would be bringing them death. Their captors were probably going to kill them anyway, there was little doubt left in her mind, after all, they had seen the faces, hell, they even knew their names. DeSavage wasn't stupid enough to actually let them live knowing what they did. Was he? She tried to block that light of hope, it wasn't doing them any good to dream, at the moment dealing with the reality of the situation would be the only thing that would bring them any good.
Hour 4
They were not moving through the list of possible places as fast as Harry would have liked, but he also didn't want to make a stupid mistake that could cost Tom and Cassy their lives because they failed to check each place properly. At the moment they were making phone calls because he didn't have the manpower it would take to check each place physically. The first thing they did was cross off all the places that were out of Palm Beach and that were more than four years old. Most serial killers like DeSavage, who had a thing to revisit crime scenes had a habit of zoning things, of keeping to the scenes he or his victims were closest to at the time and keeping to the most recent, or one in the area that had the greatest significance to him. So by keeping only the most recent and local scenes they cut their list down greatly. So far they had also crossed off five other buildings that had recently been demolished and torn-down. They had about thirty other places in which both DeSavage and death had been involved. Less than four hours to go. Harry refused to think about what was happening to his best detectives. He had a pretty good idea of why DeSavage would want them, and he hoped that if it came down to a life or death situation, the right decision would be made concerning whether or not they continued to keep their mouths shut. But what exactly was the right choice?
Hour 3 1/2
Footsteps startled Cassy out of her doze. She couldn't believe she had actually fallen asleep, or sort of fallen asleep. She hadn't realized just how exhausted her body was. A quick glance at Tom told her he had still not awaken, and she was glad. This time when they came in to 'talk' they would have no choice but to leave Tom alone, after all, an unconscious man wouldn't tell you anything. She pulled herself together and straightened in the chair as the door was pushed open and DeSavage reentered. His short break hadn't given him any idea of what was bothering him. Everything seemed like it was going according to plan, but he was experienced enough to know that just when everything seems perfect and well it pays to be more attentive to the smallest details. A silent appraisal of the room showed him the man who was still out slumped in his chair, and the woman sitting perfectly upright in the chair, in spite of her wounds, looking at him with something akin to defiance. "Sergeant St. John, are we ready to talk?" he asked, walking towards her until he was in front of her chair. A rise of her chin and a narrowing of her eyes is the only response he got to his question. "Still letting that pride hold your tongue, detective? Why will you not tell me something as simple as where my brother is? Keeping your mouth shut will do no one any good, you and your partner will end up dead, and I'll just try again. I won't stop until I find out where he is, don't you think it would be the easiest thing to just tell me?" His eyes had taken on a hard glint belying the softness of his voice. Cassy gave him her best bored look and slowly blinked her eyes, not showing the fear that was coursing through her blood. The slap that followed echoed through the otherwise silent room. She made no sound, she would not let him illicit any response from her. 'Damn it why is it men always hit women on the face?' she wondered, trying not to wince. The next half hour similarly followed suit. Cassy refused to give an inch, and DeSavage proved just as stubborn, not letting up with his fists when she refused to answer. The only consolation Cassy could find, the one other thing that helped her stay quiet was the fact that during the whole time, Tom had been spared any other punishment.
Hour 3
They were down to ten places and they only had three hours left. They only had ten people working on this disaster with them anymore. As much as Harry would have liked to have everyone help, he could understand that just because two of the most important people in his life were being held hostage, that didn't excuse taking away the police protection from someone else's daughter or son or loved one. Minutes seemed like seconds and traffic seemed to put every possible obstacle in their path, doubling the time it would have usually taken to hit the buildings. Sweeps were made as quickly as possible, but with a reasonable amount of caution, after all, if that next building happened to be the right spot, the bad guys were not going to just walk out with their hands in the air, going, "Oh, you got me." DeSavage wasn't the type to let anything go as easy as it should, and had no moral qualms about taking lives to protect his own sorry, worthless ass. About ten minutes later the phone rang. "We just hit the old Holiday Inn on Water St. Nothing there, were heading out to the next one," the officer on the other line spoke quickly and wasted no time before hastily disconnecting the line. Harry swallowed the harsh words that sprang to his tongue, knowing that yelling at the young man wasn't going to help. But, dammit, it made him feel better. His worry needed an outlet and at the moment angry words were the most convenient. They were scheduled to make three more stops, then head back to HQ to switch teams. Some of the men riding with them had been here since last night because it was their day off. After wandering helplessly through the desks scattered across the floor, Harry couldn't stand it any more. As soon as they were back, he was going with them, he could put someone else in charge for the time being, but he couldn't stand not being out there and trying to help find them. He just wished they would hurry up and get back or hurry up and find them.
Hour 2 1/2
"One more place, Captain, then we're heading back to switch." "Fine, I'll be waiting."
Hour 2
Tom fought the wave of nausea that roiled through his stomach. His head was exploding, he could feel it crack piece by piece, the pain almost more than he could bear. He kept fighting through the cloying darkness that seemed to feel that he should stay forever in its grasp. He had to wake up, he had to be there to help, be there for Cassy. Slowly, and ever so slightly he lifted his heavy head. Holding his breath he didn't pause until he could see around the room. DeSavage had come back. The last thing he remembered hearing was the door shut after heavy footsteps that could only belong to that monster left the room. He was now standing with his back to Tom, in front of Cassy's chair. None of the other goons had come back with him. He wondered how long he had been out, and how long Cassy had been in the grips of this madman with no one else to act as a sounding board to his aggressions. DeSavage moved to the side, allowing Tom to see the new bruises forming across her face, and no doubt, other places that he couldn't see. She had finally succumbed to all the stress, physical, mental, emotional, and was now oblivious to the world around her. DeSavage looked at her again, then began to turn around. Quickly, too quickly according to the pain washing over him again, he bowed his head like it had been before. Let him think they were both out, it might give them some time. He could feel DeSavage getting closer to him and willed himself not to give anything away when the standing man slapped his cheek. "Are you awake, detective? Wake up," DeSavage commanded, disappointed that they were both unconscious. Tom held his breath, and hoped his acting skills were good enough to pass DeSavage's scrutiny. He slowly breathed a sigh of relief when the older man turned with frustration towards the door. He waited a beat or two after the lock clicked into place before bringing his head back up to survey the damage done to his partner. She looked bad, real bad. He longed to go to her and make sure she was all right, do anything to ease her pain. Instead he looked around the room for maybe the millionth time since he'd been there, willing, wishing something to change before his eyes to give him some sort of hope that they would make it through this alive. He had realized while he and Cassy had been talking before that even though they both agreed that living as husband and wife wasn't right for them, that he would always love her more than he had said he did, she would always have half of his heart. He needed to tell her that no matter what he would always be there for her, that he could forgive her for anything, even this. He couldn't stand the thought of her dying thinking that he hated her for not speaking, or feeling guilty for anything that happened to him. He trusted her with his life, he always had, this time wasn't any different, he believed that for whatever reason she wasn't saying anything she made the right choice. He prayed with all his soul that they would live through this long enough for him to tell her.
Hour 1 1/2
'Three more places. Just three more. Please, oh please, let it be one of these. If its not, I don't want to think of what's going to happen, we don't have enough time to start over and try to figure it out again.' Harry's blood was full of adrenaline. His heart was pounding against his chest as his men silently surrounded the building. He nodded to the man standing next to the door. The door gave away with a groan. Harry was the second one through the door, his senses more attuned to every movement than they usually were. Five minutes later, it was clear Tom and Cassy were not here, and ten minutes later, the entire building had been searched, cleared and secured. They only had and hour and a half before their time limit ran out. He knew if they were too late, Tom and Cassy were going to be dead. Two more places. He looked at the addresses, willing something to move or appear and lead him to the right place. Nothing so much as flickered across the paper, not that deep down he had ever expected it to, but for some reason he couldn't deny the strange sense of disappointment, or the ever growing feeling of hoplessness.