Tommy sat in sullen silence on a large black sofa, his longish blond hair falling into his eyes, hiding them from what little light there was. He was doing the best he could to not think about what could happen to him. He knew that Trent would find him; it was just a matter of time. Everything was just a matter of time. It was a matter of time before Biggins tortured him or worse. Deep inside he knew that he would always be a bit broken by all of this, but it all hinged on him surviving. He was most assuredly intimidated by Biggins. He knew that every one of the threats Biggins made would be fulfilled.

"You weren't thinking of a way to escape, where you?" Biggins asked Tommy as he entered the room.

"No." His voice cracked and was weaker than he meant or wanted it to be.

"Good." He sat on the couch next to the youth. "I got your brother a little present." He carefully tucked a stray lock of Tommy's hair behind his ear.

"Are you gonna leave my family alone?" He pulled back from the large man's touch.

"I will leave your younger siblings and mother alone," he said reaching his hand out to Tommy. Easily Tommy evaded his captor's reach. Angered, Biggins lunged at Tommy. Expertly his thick fingers and large hands locked around Tommy's throat. "I told you," he growled. "That if you ever tried to get away again, you'd regret it, remember?"

"I'm sorry," he breathed. His mind was hardly working any more, finding the simplest phrases or even words was difficult as fear began to creep farther into his mind, taking control over the strong rational that he had been relying upon. He had to find away to push the fear out and keep his head together. If he lost it and allowed his fear to get in his head, he would die. He would die if he lost his head now; that was there was to it.

"I'll let it go this once," he whispered into Tommy's ear. "We have a present to leave your brother."

Nimbly Biggins seized Tommy's left arm just below the shoulder, and wrenched him off the couch. Tommy stumbled beside the large man as they hastily made their way to the door. He wanted to pull against the vice grip of Biggins, but fear kept him from finding out what the price would be for that.

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Loud cries and low moans filled every square inch of the old warehouse. The sound of wood connecting with flesh and bone sickened Tommy more than any scene from a horror movie or news story ever could. He tried to keep his eyes closed and tune out the sounds of the grotesque scene that was taking place before him. The moans of the poor soul Biggins was beating to were beginning to fade and give way to the sound of the wooden baseball bat hitting pulverized flesh.

"Open you're eyes, Malloy," Biggins gasped breathless from the exertion of the beating he had, only moments before, been dispensing upon a poor soul that happened to bare a physical resemblance Tommy.

Though he wanted to keep them closed until Trent found him, he was afraid of what Biggins would do to him he disobeyed him. Tommy, slowly, complied with Biggins' demand.

"That's better," Biggins murmured, running a thick hand roughly through Tommy's dark blond hair. A smile lit across his round square face when Tommy closed his eyes again. He could smell the fear that was oozing from every pore in the boy's body. "Keep them open."

Fear soaking his every fiber, Tommy did as he was told, opening his blue-green eyes and keeping them open. He did everything he could to not look at the bloody, pulverized mess that was once a living breathing human being. He hoped that Trent would be able to see through the ruse and instinctively know that he was not dead, that Biggins had him tucked safely away in a part of the city they had yet to scour. Any minute, any hour Trent, Walker, Carlos, Travette and Gage would come bursting through the door of wherever it was that they were and save the day. That is how it had to work. That is how it happens in the movies, the good guys see through the plot of the bad guys and save the day at the last possible second.

Though he wished things would happen like that, deep inside he knew that would not really happen. Not in the real world. In the real world, he would be lucky if they found him before Biggins tortured him or worse. Tommy knew the chances of him actually surviving were slim, but still he had to hold out hope. As long as he had hope, he was still alive.

Tommy watched in silence as Biggins made sure the body of a young man that bore a striking resemblance to himself, when he was alive, was unidentifiable by anything but dental records. The sight of the well beaten young man made Tommy sick to his stomach. Not fully satisfied with his handy work the large man kicked the corpse in the face a few more times.

"Time to go." He grabbed Tommy by the arm and dragged him from the warehouse.

"Where're we going?" Tommy asked as he was dragged to a car a tossed inside.

"Back to my place." He was purposely vague. He went quickly to the drivers side and climbed in.

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"Sandoval." Carlos answered his cell phone.

"How's our little friend holding up?" a voice, with a slight laugh, asked.

"So, you went back to Dallas." Carlos refused to play Biggins sick game of cat and mouse.

"What's the matter, Carlos, not up to playing?" Biggins said as though he were referring to a game of chess or poker, rather than a game where someone's life hung in the balance.

"No."His voice was full of venom."As a matter of fact, I'm not."

"My, somebody's ballsy," he said clearly enjoying himself.

"Why don't you just knock off the game playing and tell us what you want?" He did not want to talk to the bastard any longer than he had to. It was bad enough that he had talked to him this long and he had only spoken to the man for a few seconds.

"All right, fair enough," he said sounding very serious. "Check the warehouse district. Abandoned warehouses. The kid's in one of them."

"What did you do to him?!" Carlos demanded nearly yelling into his phone. He got no answer. Biggins had hung up before he could get his question out.

Running on pure emotion, Carlos dialed Gage's cell phone number.

"Gage."

"It's Carlos."

"What's going on?" Gage sensed that something was off. Why would Carlos call him when they were so close the Dallas? There was no reason for him to call, unless there were something wrong.

"Biggins just called me. He said that when we get back we need to check the warehouse district. The abandoned warehouses," he said in a rushed breath. "I think that he did something to Tom."

"Slow down, man," Gage said in an authoritative voice, in an attempt to calm his friend down; all the while worry filled him. "Did he say why he wanted us to do that?"

"No. He just said to check abandoned warehouses."

"We'll find out when we get there." He hung up the phone and stared at the highway that stretched out before Walker's full sized pickup truck. Carefully his fingers dialed Travette's cell number.

"Travette."

"It's Gage," he said feeling as though he were thousands of miles away from everything that was happening.

"How's Trent?" Concern oozed through his voice.

"He called Carlos and told him to check the abandoned warehouse district. He claims that Tommy's in one of them. Could you get a team togther and start a search?"

"You got it."

Gage used all of the strength he had to keep from feeling relieved by the news that Biggins had given them. He knew Biggins was up to something; he could feel it. He would never go to the trouble of kidnaping someone just to kill them a few hours later. No, he was the type of person who enjoyed the hunt. He enjoyed being hunted, but never caught. Taylor Biggins liked to torture people for as long as it was a game and he was winning. Gage knew better than to believe anything that Biggins had hidden away in a warehouse in Dallas. It would all be a trick. It all had to be a trick; a sick, twisted ruse. A clever way to torture Trent for both fooling him and almost capturing him. He also knew that Trent was distraught over the entire situation, and that he would believe anything Biggins left in the warehouse for him. Gage had to find Biggins before he could damage any of them any further than he already had. No matter what was waiting for them in Dallas, he had to stop Biggins.