Watching the woman almost made her dizzy, and she had to force
herself to look away quite often. She was feeling more than a little
nauseous, though she didn't know why. She didn't let her mind dwell on it,
and tried to concentrate on something else, like getting her hands free of
the rope that bound them.
Amanda had tried to talk to her not so long ago, and Faith was grateful to be free of the gag for a while. She refused to talk with the woman, denying her the responses she so desperately desired. She wanted a fight... wanted to be able to say how her actions were justified. Amanda had gone round in circles for about ten minutes before realising she wasn't going to get anything.
Faith had managed to pull herself up into a sitting position... a little less uncomfortable. She was busy tugging on the ropes when Amanda turned from her focus point out of the window, that same wicked smile on her face.
The dark eyes floated down to the collection of framed photographs before she said, "We have company."
Faith's heart sank considerably, and she ceased in her efforts to free herself, watching the woman again.
It wasn't long before footsteps could be heard approaching, and Faith felt her head turn to the door, heart racing in regretful anticipation of what would come through that door, just as it was shoved open.
Someone was thrown inside to the ground, and they landed with their back to Faith. It didn't matter. She knew who it was just from what they were wearing. She had known him that long... she didn't need to see his face to know.
His hands had been bound with electrical tape behind his back, and he looked to be unconscious. She gathered that much when he didn't move. She stared at the back of his head for a long time, and then let her eyes travel to Amanda Olmos, who stalked over to his prone figure.
Amanda cocked her head as she looked down on him, and the smile disappeared halfway, as though she herself couldn't believe he was here. She crouched delicately and gracefully, and ran her fingers through his wet hair, the smile returning. The cruel gaze fell on Faith.
Faith stared right back through the wisps of hair that hung in front of her eyes, and waited for Amanda to say something... anything.
"At least you won't die alone."
Amanda stood, laughing quietly, casting a final glance down on the unconscious form that had been thrown to the ground, and then took up her place at the window, staring out of it once again.
Faith looked back to Bosco as he lay still on the ground, and saw the rythmic movement of his breathing, letting herself relax just a little for knowing he was still alive. After a long time of staring, she was able to see that the same electrical tape that bound his hands also covered his mouth. And he was bleeding.
From where she sat, it just looked like the wound from the car crash, but she couldn't be sure.
She just sat in silence, and waited for him to wake up.
* * *
The woman had provided them with reasonably detailed descriptions of the three men who had last been seen with Bosco, the same ones who had shoved him in the trunk of a car... apparently, so went the woman's statement. They had been able to persuade her to look at some mug shots, and she had positively identified one.
Warren Anderson. He had been arrested five times, each for something different. Armed robbery, car theft... kidnapping. He had been suspected of it all at one time or another. It didn't reassure Sully and Davis any either. He was a nasty piece of work. Sadistic, cruel... insane.
"So what do we do now?" Davis inquired eagerly, watching Sully wash his hands in the sink. The older man looked up at him from the mirror, and sighed.
"Now, people like Tancreedy try to find this Warren guy. We get stuck with the short straw... go out on calls. Pretend like nothing is goin' on."
"You're kidding me? We've gotta do something," Davis urged, shrugging his shoulders in an exaggerated fashion so his arms heaved up and down. They landed at his sides with a slap, and he raised his eyebrows for emphasis.
Sully turned to his partner, and snatched a towel from the dispenser, wiping it over his hands in a hurried way, tossing it casually to the bin, and missing. He ignored it, and led the way out of the locker room, and through the precinct. Davis followed right behind like an obediently trained dog, and waited.
"What do you expect me to do, Davis?" Sully asked of him quietly, but quickly, turning to him so suddenly that the younger man nearly slammed right into him. He stopped inches from his fellow officer, and looked him right in the eye.
"Something," Davis offered bravely, "anything. I don't know. We could find out Anderson's address, or check with the local gangs... see if they've spotted him around. I don't care. I just can't sit around here knowing Bosco and Yokas are out there... alive."
Sully's eyes lowered for a moment, as his hands fell into his pockets, and he turned, saying blandly, "You don't know they're still alive."
Davis halted, watching the other man walk away for a bit, before he moved quickly up behind him, and took him by the shoulder, turning him carefully but with urgency. "What do you mean? You think they're dead?"
Sully didn't seem to know much of anything right now, as he looked around for a moment, before his eyes settled firmly on Davis' dark face. "All I'm saying is..."
He did not finish his sentence, only shrugged.
"What? What are you saying?"
Sully shrugged again, removing Davis' hand from his shoulder, replying, "I don't know what I'm saying, Ty." He nodded in the direction of the door quickly. "But if you want to go around chasing after this guy Anderson, then sure, fine with me. Hell, I'll even go with you. I'm just warning you not to expect anything much, Davis... I don't want you to be disappointed at the end of it all." He paused, frowning. "I want to find Bosco and Faith as much as the next officer here, but I'm not going to let it cloud my judgement. We have a responsibility out there. If we get a call, we take it, but in between, we'll do what you want to try and find them." Another pause. "Okay?"
Davis merely nodded, satisfied with what he had managed to obtain, and followed Sully.
* * *
Bosco had been conscious only a couple of minutes at the least, his head throbbing painfully, and his side aching, but he had already assessed a little of what was going on. He had been truly and royally screwed. That was the only phrase that came to mind as the woman tore the tape off his mouth and stared down at him.
He lay on his side on the hard and dusty wooden floor, slivers of light shining through the partially covered grimy window. Torn curtains hung from the frame, and a dresser seemed to be the only useful piece of furniture in the room. From where he lay, he could make out the shapes of several framed photographs, but at this distance, he couldn't tell what they displayed. He had a fair idea though.
A woman stood over him, her cold eyes glaring down at him wickedly, her face familiar. She had been the woman at the scene of the shootout after Bosco and Faith had taken down the last three shooters. She was the mother.
She kicked him hard in the stomach, and he rolled over, closing his eyes tight against the agony in his side. He lay his head on the floor, and let out a breath, opening his eyes.
"Faith..."
She sat leaned back against the wall before him, looking at him desperately. Her hands were bound, and she looked a little bruised, but other than that, she seemed fine.
"That's right, Officer Boscorelli," the woman began with a voice that sent a shiver down his spine, "your partner has been waiting for you. I think she was worried." She moved over to Faith, laying a hand on her head. Faith flinched, but the woman grabbed her hair tightly.
"Leave her alone!" Bosco said as loudly as he could manage, still hurting from the blow. He tried to break his hands free of the tape that restrained them, and failed.
The woman laughed. "You don't seem to understand," she told him simply, no longer amused. She crouched down next to Faith, looking at her for a moment, before letting her eyes rest on Bosco. "She's here for exactly the same reason you are."
"Just let her go," Bosco appealed. "I'm here... what do you want her for?"
The woman stood, releasing Faith, and moving over to him, nodding to a man in the background of the room. Footsteps could be felt in the floorboards, approaching, shortly before Bosco was picked up off the floor, and allowed to stand on his feet in front of her.
She was a tall woman, at least middle-aged, with dark curly hair that reached down to her shoulders, and dark cold eyes that penetrated. Her skin was pale, as though she had not seen the sun for some time, and she looked worn, tired.
"I didn't call you here to exchange," she began, considering him pensively. "I just used her," she glanced at Faith, "to get you here as well. I wanted you both."
Bosco struggled for a minute, but a strong arm came around his front, holding him back, restraining him further. He stopped, looked into the dark eyes, finding nothing but anger and hatred there.
The woman found it all quite entertaining, and laughed, turning her back on him to the photos framed on the dresser, picking one out from amongst the collection, and showing it to him casually.
Bosco didn't want to look. He knew what it was, but it was either the picture or that chilling gaze. He opted for the photo.
"She didn't remember their names," she said to him icily, moving closer, replacing the photo on the dresser. "I doubt you do either."
He didn't say anything. He did know... just didn't speak.
Her gaze hardened, and he almost regretted his silence.
Amanda had tried to talk to her not so long ago, and Faith was grateful to be free of the gag for a while. She refused to talk with the woman, denying her the responses she so desperately desired. She wanted a fight... wanted to be able to say how her actions were justified. Amanda had gone round in circles for about ten minutes before realising she wasn't going to get anything.
Faith had managed to pull herself up into a sitting position... a little less uncomfortable. She was busy tugging on the ropes when Amanda turned from her focus point out of the window, that same wicked smile on her face.
The dark eyes floated down to the collection of framed photographs before she said, "We have company."
Faith's heart sank considerably, and she ceased in her efforts to free herself, watching the woman again.
It wasn't long before footsteps could be heard approaching, and Faith felt her head turn to the door, heart racing in regretful anticipation of what would come through that door, just as it was shoved open.
Someone was thrown inside to the ground, and they landed with their back to Faith. It didn't matter. She knew who it was just from what they were wearing. She had known him that long... she didn't need to see his face to know.
His hands had been bound with electrical tape behind his back, and he looked to be unconscious. She gathered that much when he didn't move. She stared at the back of his head for a long time, and then let her eyes travel to Amanda Olmos, who stalked over to his prone figure.
Amanda cocked her head as she looked down on him, and the smile disappeared halfway, as though she herself couldn't believe he was here. She crouched delicately and gracefully, and ran her fingers through his wet hair, the smile returning. The cruel gaze fell on Faith.
Faith stared right back through the wisps of hair that hung in front of her eyes, and waited for Amanda to say something... anything.
"At least you won't die alone."
Amanda stood, laughing quietly, casting a final glance down on the unconscious form that had been thrown to the ground, and then took up her place at the window, staring out of it once again.
Faith looked back to Bosco as he lay still on the ground, and saw the rythmic movement of his breathing, letting herself relax just a little for knowing he was still alive. After a long time of staring, she was able to see that the same electrical tape that bound his hands also covered his mouth. And he was bleeding.
From where she sat, it just looked like the wound from the car crash, but she couldn't be sure.
She just sat in silence, and waited for him to wake up.
* * *
The woman had provided them with reasonably detailed descriptions of the three men who had last been seen with Bosco, the same ones who had shoved him in the trunk of a car... apparently, so went the woman's statement. They had been able to persuade her to look at some mug shots, and she had positively identified one.
Warren Anderson. He had been arrested five times, each for something different. Armed robbery, car theft... kidnapping. He had been suspected of it all at one time or another. It didn't reassure Sully and Davis any either. He was a nasty piece of work. Sadistic, cruel... insane.
"So what do we do now?" Davis inquired eagerly, watching Sully wash his hands in the sink. The older man looked up at him from the mirror, and sighed.
"Now, people like Tancreedy try to find this Warren guy. We get stuck with the short straw... go out on calls. Pretend like nothing is goin' on."
"You're kidding me? We've gotta do something," Davis urged, shrugging his shoulders in an exaggerated fashion so his arms heaved up and down. They landed at his sides with a slap, and he raised his eyebrows for emphasis.
Sully turned to his partner, and snatched a towel from the dispenser, wiping it over his hands in a hurried way, tossing it casually to the bin, and missing. He ignored it, and led the way out of the locker room, and through the precinct. Davis followed right behind like an obediently trained dog, and waited.
"What do you expect me to do, Davis?" Sully asked of him quietly, but quickly, turning to him so suddenly that the younger man nearly slammed right into him. He stopped inches from his fellow officer, and looked him right in the eye.
"Something," Davis offered bravely, "anything. I don't know. We could find out Anderson's address, or check with the local gangs... see if they've spotted him around. I don't care. I just can't sit around here knowing Bosco and Yokas are out there... alive."
Sully's eyes lowered for a moment, as his hands fell into his pockets, and he turned, saying blandly, "You don't know they're still alive."
Davis halted, watching the other man walk away for a bit, before he moved quickly up behind him, and took him by the shoulder, turning him carefully but with urgency. "What do you mean? You think they're dead?"
Sully didn't seem to know much of anything right now, as he looked around for a moment, before his eyes settled firmly on Davis' dark face. "All I'm saying is..."
He did not finish his sentence, only shrugged.
"What? What are you saying?"
Sully shrugged again, removing Davis' hand from his shoulder, replying, "I don't know what I'm saying, Ty." He nodded in the direction of the door quickly. "But if you want to go around chasing after this guy Anderson, then sure, fine with me. Hell, I'll even go with you. I'm just warning you not to expect anything much, Davis... I don't want you to be disappointed at the end of it all." He paused, frowning. "I want to find Bosco and Faith as much as the next officer here, but I'm not going to let it cloud my judgement. We have a responsibility out there. If we get a call, we take it, but in between, we'll do what you want to try and find them." Another pause. "Okay?"
Davis merely nodded, satisfied with what he had managed to obtain, and followed Sully.
* * *
Bosco had been conscious only a couple of minutes at the least, his head throbbing painfully, and his side aching, but he had already assessed a little of what was going on. He had been truly and royally screwed. That was the only phrase that came to mind as the woman tore the tape off his mouth and stared down at him.
He lay on his side on the hard and dusty wooden floor, slivers of light shining through the partially covered grimy window. Torn curtains hung from the frame, and a dresser seemed to be the only useful piece of furniture in the room. From where he lay, he could make out the shapes of several framed photographs, but at this distance, he couldn't tell what they displayed. He had a fair idea though.
A woman stood over him, her cold eyes glaring down at him wickedly, her face familiar. She had been the woman at the scene of the shootout after Bosco and Faith had taken down the last three shooters. She was the mother.
She kicked him hard in the stomach, and he rolled over, closing his eyes tight against the agony in his side. He lay his head on the floor, and let out a breath, opening his eyes.
"Faith..."
She sat leaned back against the wall before him, looking at him desperately. Her hands were bound, and she looked a little bruised, but other than that, she seemed fine.
"That's right, Officer Boscorelli," the woman began with a voice that sent a shiver down his spine, "your partner has been waiting for you. I think she was worried." She moved over to Faith, laying a hand on her head. Faith flinched, but the woman grabbed her hair tightly.
"Leave her alone!" Bosco said as loudly as he could manage, still hurting from the blow. He tried to break his hands free of the tape that restrained them, and failed.
The woman laughed. "You don't seem to understand," she told him simply, no longer amused. She crouched down next to Faith, looking at her for a moment, before letting her eyes rest on Bosco. "She's here for exactly the same reason you are."
"Just let her go," Bosco appealed. "I'm here... what do you want her for?"
The woman stood, releasing Faith, and moving over to him, nodding to a man in the background of the room. Footsteps could be felt in the floorboards, approaching, shortly before Bosco was picked up off the floor, and allowed to stand on his feet in front of her.
She was a tall woman, at least middle-aged, with dark curly hair that reached down to her shoulders, and dark cold eyes that penetrated. Her skin was pale, as though she had not seen the sun for some time, and she looked worn, tired.
"I didn't call you here to exchange," she began, considering him pensively. "I just used her," she glanced at Faith, "to get you here as well. I wanted you both."
Bosco struggled for a minute, but a strong arm came around his front, holding him back, restraining him further. He stopped, looked into the dark eyes, finding nothing but anger and hatred there.
The woman found it all quite entertaining, and laughed, turning her back on him to the photos framed on the dresser, picking one out from amongst the collection, and showing it to him casually.
Bosco didn't want to look. He knew what it was, but it was either the picture or that chilling gaze. He opted for the photo.
"She didn't remember their names," she said to him icily, moving closer, replacing the photo on the dresser. "I doubt you do either."
He didn't say anything. He did know... just didn't speak.
Her gaze hardened, and he almost regretted his silence.