Disclaimer: I don't own Ponch, Getraer or any of the CHP, but as they've been idle for the last 20 years I thought I'd borrow them for a while.

Authors Note: I don't live or know the Los Angeles area so most areas/ road names have been made up, so don't get all 'there's no such place' on me. This chapter may go up to an 'R' rating as it gets a little more intense for Bruce.

Fourteen – Caught

Bruce turned the key, locking the office door. As he lifted his head he noticed a shadow of a figure looming behind him. Raising the tyre iron Jacob swung it towards Bruce's head. The officer reacted in an instant, turning and ducking. The iron missed his head by inches and smashed the glass pane in the door. Bruce rolled out of the way as Jacob swung the weapon a second time, feeling the air whistle past his head. Bruce remembered the gun and tried to take aim at his attacker, this time Jacob found his mark and the gun flew from Bruce's grasp. Bruce looked up to see Jacobs leering face above him, he pushed backwards with his feet attempting to scramble away from the furious madman. Jacob smiled at the officers' useless predicament, bringing the iron down towards Bruce's head once again. Bruce raised his hands to defend off the blow and the iron caught on the metal links of the cuffs, he used to distraction to grab Jacob's wrists.

The pair grappled as Bruce tried to stop Jacob from getting the upper hand.

"You're not getting out of here cop." Jacob growled through gritted teeth.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." Bruce countered. Quickly moving his legs up so they were between himself and Jacob.

Planting his feet in the man's chest, Bruce pushed upwards with his legs, whilst at the same time pulling Jacob's arms forward. With a yell, Jacob was sent sprawling over the young officer's head.

Bruce spied the gun a few feet away; if he could only reach it his ordeal would be at an end. He scrambled across the floor, the gun just inches from his grasp when something solid connected with his outstretched hand. Bruce cried out in pain, clasping his throbbing wrist to his chest. Jacob was standing above him, the tyre iron in his hand.

Before Bruce could make a second attempt for the gun, Jacob brought the bar down ruthlessly across his back. Bruce collapsed back to the ground, clenching his teeth against the pain and fighting to remain conscious. Desperate not to give up he weakly reached for the gun once more.

"The kid sure is stubborn." Jacob thought as his observed the officers' last ditch attempt at freedom. "Or maybe just stupid."

Jacob stepped onto Bruce's outstretched hand applying slight pressure, making the young officer groan. Tossing the tyre iron aside, Jacob picked up the gun.

Bruce's heart sank. He'd so nearly managed to escape the man who meant to hurt him and his brother. Now exhausted he knew the fight was over. He used his last remaining energy to push himself up to his knees.

Jacob crouched down next to the officer, so the pair were at eye level.

"Thanks for the work out." He smiled.

Bruce used what little energy he had to deliver a perfectly aimed punch to Jacob's jaw. To his surprised Jacob did not lose his balance or, for once, his composure, calmly turning back to face the officer.

"Now that's assault Officer Nelson." He said sarcastically.

Jacob stood up, touching his swollen and bleeding lip. He examined the blood smeared between his fingers and Bruce watched uneasily as his captor began to laugh. There was movement out of the corner of his eye and then Bruce's vision exploded into a myriad of colour, taken over just as quickly by darkness as he slumped to the ground.

**********

Sergeant Getraer sifted through reports at his desk. He looked up when there was a knock at his door.

"What is it Grossman?"

"We've got a positive I.D from the description Billy Credie gave us this afternoon." Grossey said as he entered the room.

"Finally, some good news." Sgt. Getraer felt some of the tension between his shoulders lessen.

Grossman handed him the file.

"His name is Carlos Montoya, a car mechanic with form for auto theft." He frowned. "Nothing in his file about previous for kidnapping though."

Gatraer flicked through the file.

"Put out an A.P.B."

"Already done Sarge."

Sgt. Getraer looked up from the file.

"Right, well, back to work, we need to find this guy."

Grossey's expression dropped slightly as he turned to leave the Sergeant's office. He had spent the last several hours scouring through files to get the lead on Carlos and was hoping for a somewhat more positive reaction.

"Oh, and Grossman..."

He stopped in the doorway.

"Yes, Sarge?"

"Good work."

"Sure thing Sarge."

**********

Jacob crouched next to Bruce's unconscious form. Carlos cleared away the broken glass from the smashed door.

"I'm not sure this is such a good idea," Debbie spoke as she approached. "If he'd got out...."

A stern glare from Jacob silenced his girlfriend. He turned back to Bruce, ripping one of the sleeves from his police shirt.

"We should just dump the cop and get out of town," She tried again, placing a hand on Jacob's shoulder. "We could go to Mexico. You, me, the beach."

She jumped as Jacob stood up abruptly.

"We're not leaving until this is over..." He glanced back at Bruce before adding "One way or another."

It occurred to Debbie that Jacob was losing control, usually her advances would calm him, bring him round to her way of thinking, but this was different. Jacob was losing his grip on reality and, for once, alcohol had nothing to do with it.

"I thought you said we were teaching this Bobby Nelson guy a lesson," Debbie again tried to reason with her lover.

Jacob ignored her and walked over to where Carlos had gathered the shards of glass from the window into a dustpan. He picked out one of the larger pieces, looking up and down the razor sharp edge.

"That we are baby," Jacob smiled. "That we are."

He returned to where Bruce lay and grasped the officers left arm. Debbie turned her face away as Jacob ran the makeshift blade along Bruce's exposed forearm. She heard a small moan as the pain reached the officer's unconscious brain, though not enough to rouse him. Jacob wiped the torn piece of shirt across the wound, smearing it with blood.

He held up his trophy.

"Time to pay big brother a visit."