Sydney's House
Sam leaned against the door frame, sipping coffee from a mug. He had checked on Sydney a few hours prior, and the psychiatrist had been sound asleep. He was becoming worried about Miss Parker. She had been gone for an overly long time, and Sam could only suppress the ugly thoughts trying to penetrate his mind. The sound of a car pulling into the driveway caught his attention, and he emitted a sigh of relief. Following the slam of the car door, he heard footsteps coming up the walk, and after a minute or so, Sam recognized the gait.
He opened the front door and started to speak, but the words never made it out of his mouth. A tire iron appeared from nowhere, striking Sam hard on the head. He crumbled to the ground, the look of abject shock still covering his face.
Without hesitation, the assailant took the inside stairs two at a time, heading for the closed door at the end of the hall. Sydney was lying on his side, unaware of the danger as his predator crept closer. Indecision momentarily crossed the attacker's features; perhaps it would be advantageous to not silence Sydney permanently. He could still be useful.
Smiling, the predator formulated a plan.....
****************
Parker's Car
Broots clutched Parker's sleeve as the car sped toward Sydney's house.
"Let's try and get there in one piece, Miss Parker...please..."
Parker sneered, "None of the sweepers is answering his phone you moron... Sydney could be in trouble."
Broots swallowed hard, "What if we're too late...what if the guy who's been after Sydney has--"
"--Shut up, Broots... could you just...shut up?"
Parker fought off the sting of tears, and the car fell silent. As they pulled into Sydney's driveway, her stomach slammed into her throat. She could see a body lying on the front porch, a light filtering onto it from the front door which was ajar. Parker ran from the car, Broots scrambling after her. Realizing it was Sam, she knelt next to the body, and felt for a pulse.
"He's alive...help me with him, Broots."
Together they lifted the sweeper and carried him into the house, gently placing him on the couch. Parker pulled the scarf from her neck and held it tightly to Sam's bleeding forehead. She grabbed Broots' hand, and placed it over the scarf.
"Hold tightly down on this."
Parker turned and ran up the stairs, drawing her gun as she hit the landing. She moved quickly and quietly down the hallway and carefully opened the door to the guest room. Her heart pounded against her chest, fear gripping her. Slowly she opened the door and walked in, leading with her firearm. But the room was empty. There was no sign of Sydney or anyone else.
"Damn......"
Parker made quick work of searching the entire house, discovering three dead sweepers on the back porch. Putting her gun back into its holster, Parker walked into the living room, where Broots was holding an ice pack to Sam's head.
"How's he doing?"
"Still unconscious, Miss Parker... "
Parker checked Sam's eyes and his pulse, then she turned back to Broots.
"I think he'll be okay."
"And I think we should call an ambulance."
"And that will bring the police, you moron, and then we'll have to explain the three dead bodies out back."
"D-d-dead bodies?"
"The rest of the sweeper team."
"Geez.......wh-where's Sydney?"
Parker looked away, sighing, "Not here. Beyond that, I haven't a clue."
"Does that mean--"
"--Yes. Syd's in deep trouble, and there isn't a clue as to who has him or where he was taken."
