Chapter Three
After Leo had spoken to Ron and Bartlet, he had told Josh, Toby and CJ that the trial was going ahead. He told them that Ron had said that a big cartel had been cracked in Colombia that had links with groups in DC and he hoped that this may lead to some news on Sam. Leo suggested that maybe someone would be willing to do a deal if they knew something about Sam's whereabouts. Josh had pointed out that was extremely unlikely and Leo had reluctantly agreed. Leo didn't tell them about Javier's veiled threats when he had requested to speak to Sam. After CJ and Josh had left, Toby hung back.
"What aren't you telling us?"
Leo sighed, he had known that one of them would not believe he had told them everything but he had expected it to be Josh.
"I need to know everything, Leo. Josh is happy with your account because he doesn't want to think about what you are leaving out, but I need to know."
Leo thought back to the last time Toby knew there was something that he wasn't being told. He didn't think he could go through that again and so he got up and closed the door. "Javier is the one I have spoken to. I told him we wanted proof that Sam is alive and he said that I would get it later. He told me that if the trial went ahead Sam would be in no condition to talk to me today." Leo was surprised when, instead of breaking into a fit of anger, Toby slumped onto the sofa.
"Let's imagine the trial is just about to start," Toby said quietly.
"Okay,"
"And that Ron hasn't managed to find out where Sam is."
"Believe me, Toby, this is a scenario I've been imagining for quite a while now."
"So in this scenario, does the trial go ahead?" Toby asked.
"There is no scenario in which the trial doesn't go ahead."
Toby knew that would be Leo's answer but a part of him had hoped that it wouldn't be. If Sam was going to come back to them it would be because they had managed to find him before any demands had been ignored, it wouldn't be because of any move Leo or the President were thinking of making. Toby walked through the communications office. CNN was showing footage of the Colombian prisoners and debating the link between their trial and the abduction of Sam. He shouted at Ginger to turn the television off.
That morning, Mael had come into the bedroom to wake Sam. He needn't have bothered; Sam had been awake for hours. He had watched as a thin streak of light had slowly appeared and then sharpened until it was a bright beam cutting across the wall. He had lain listening to his captors talking. They were chatting noisily, even Javier sounded enthusiastic. Sam realised that they truly believed that the trial was going to be stopped.
A few hours later, he was sitting at the kitchen table next to Javier. They were waiting for the studio footage of reports about the trial to change to live shots from the courthouse. He knew with absolute certainty that the trial would go ahead but his captors' enthusiasm almost had Sam hoping that somehow Bartlet had arranged for it to be postponed to give him more time.
As he watched the studio picture switch to an outside shot he knew he had hoped in vain. A serious faced, white haired reporter announced that the van containing the two prisoners had just driven around the back of the courthouse amid heavy security. Mael muttered, "Bastards," as Incul pulled Sam to his feet. Sam knew that Javier would make good on his threat to Leo, but he was also pretty certain that they weren't going to kill him. The release of the prisoners was a prelude to the main event which, he suspected, would be the Colombian Dinner or the announcement of the Statement of Aims. In theory, Sam reasoned, they needed him alive at least until then.
He was dragged out of the room and was surprised when he passed the bedroom and was taken further down the corridor. He felt Incul's grip tighten at the sound of someone knocking on the door. Instinctively Sam moved towards the sound, a hand was placed tightly over his mouth before he could call out and a gun barrel placed to his cheek. Incul pulled him swiftly into the bathroom. Sam could feel Incul's heart beating where he was held tightly against his chest.
The knocking came again and this time was followed by a voice. "Hello, I'm Mrs Delaney, I live next door. I just thought I'd pop over and say hi."
Incul tightened his hold on Sam and pushed the gun harder against his cheekbone. The woman knocked again and then walked away down the path but still nobody moved. "Has she gone?" Incul called out to Javier but then answered his own question, "Shit, she's come round the back."
Her footsteps could be heard on the path that led to the back door. She didn't knock this time but Sam could see her trying to peer in through the frosted glass panels. The gun jolted as Incul jumped when Mael suddenly appeared in the bathroom and shouted, "Hold on ma'am, I'll be with you in a minute." He ducked his head under the tap and wet his hair, emptied the contents of a toiletry bag and covered his face with shaving foam and then grabbed a towel and held it over his head. "Ella no saldrá," he whispered to Incul as he passed him. Sam didn't think she was going to go away either. Incul pulled Sam further into the room and tightened his grip.
Mael opened the door and stood pretending to dry his hair. "Hey, I'm sorry about that, I was in the bathroom."
"Yes, I can see, sorry. I just wanted to say hello. I live next door. I know this place has been empty for a while but I've seen lights on and figured someone had moved in."
"Well, it's good to meet you ma'am. You probably haven't seen much of me because I work nights, so I'm in and out at all hours."
"Oh and here I am disturbing you, I'm sorry." She tried to peer past him as she spoke.
"Well, anyway, nice to meet you." Mael started to shut the door.
"Yes, you too. I'm sorry I disturbed you."
"No problem." Mael shut the door and sagged against it as he wiped the foam from his face. Javier walked up to him and Mael shrugged. "We had no choice, she would have come back. This way we've shut her up for a few days."
Javier nodded and walked up to Incul. "Get it done. I want to send the pictures tonight."
Incul pulled Sam away from the wall and Mael opened a door that led down a flight of stairs and followed them down. Mael pulled Sam's arms behind his back and held him up as Incul started an onslaught of blows. When Sam became too heavy for Mael he let him drop to his knees but still the punches continued. Sam tried not to make a sound. He lasted as long as he could before his groans joined the sounds of Incul's exertion and Mael's encouragement. The room was dark and Sam didn't notice the difference between that and the sudden darkness that engulfed him as the beating ended and he sank to the floor.
It had been four days since Sam had been abducted and it had been four days since CJ had slept for more than a few hours. She groaned when she heard a ringing noise and reached over and groped for the alarm. It took a few seconds for her brain to register that it wasn't the alarm that was ringing and then she remembered Sam and she leapt out of bed and grabbed the phone.
"It's me. Come in." Toby's words were enough to jolt CJ awake. For a few moments she thought Sam must have died but as she ran around her apartment she knew that Toby would have come in person to tell her that. She knew it was bad though to have called her in at five am.
CJ had never known the Bullpen to be so busy on a Saturday. She peered into Toby's office but seeing he was talking to Ron, headed straight to Leo's. Josh was still wearing his suit and she guessed that he hadn't been home. She wondered if he had been home since Sam had been taken.
Leo was talking to the President but when he saw CJ he stopped and walked back to his desk. "We've been sent a picture of Sam. The Washington Post has it too and is running it today."
CJ wanted to answer as Sam's friend. She wanted to know how he looked. She wanted something to quell the nagging fear that they would never see him again. She answered as the Press Secretary. "I'll get a briefing setup within the hour. Has Toby got something for me?"
"Yeah, he's just meeting with Ron."
"Sam's holding yesterday's newspaper," the President said and gestured with his coffee cup towards the envelope that Josh was holding. CJ went and sat beside him and took the brown envelope out of his hands. Judging by Josh's expression there was more to the picture than proof that Sam was alive. She started to open the envelope but then stopped.
"Can I take this with me? I need to see Toby."
Bartlet nodded, he appreciated the professionalism of his staff in emotional times. It never ceased to amaze him. He wished that he had been able to look at the photo in private too.
CJ went into her office and closed the door. She put her bag and coat down and then sat on the sofa. She closed her eyes as she fingered the edge of the envelope, took a deep breath and then pulled out the photo. She glanced at the picture and then looked quickly away. Staring out of the window she told herself that she would have to get used to looking at the image as it was one she would be seeing a lot of over the next few days. She brushed her hair out of her eyes and turned back to the photo. Sam was sitting against a blank wall. He was holding a copy of yesterday's Washington post. His hair hung over his forehead and his head was slightly bowed. He wasn't looking at the camera but she could see that one eye was swollen closed and bruises were clearly visible on his face. CJ forced herself to keep looking. She knew that the proof that Sam was alive should fill her with hope but instead it just made her fear for him even more.
She heard Toby's voice and quickly shoved the photo back into the envelope.
"I've written down what you should say and underlined what you shouldn't." Toby handed her his notes. "Ron says they haven't been able to trace the calls yet. They're using a phone that hasn't got wireless tracking…something, which makes it more difficult. They can trace the cell tower but it's harder to pinpoint the exact location without satellite technology as well."
"Have you seen it?" CJ asked.
Toby nodded and walked out of the office.
Donna switched on her computer and flicked through her messages before going into Josh's office.
"You slept here last night?"
"Well there wasn't much sleeping going on, but yeah, I didn't go home."
"What's happened?" Donna asked. Josh hadn't explained why he needed her in at six am on a Saturday morning.
"They sent a photo of Sam."
"Oh God, Josh, is he-"
Josh glanced up at Donna and realised what she was thinking. "No, he's not…Jesus did you think I was about to tell you he was dead?"
"I'm sorry, it's just you called me in and didn't say why. Toby and CJ are sitting in their offices staring into space, I just thought…I just feared the worse."
"He's holding yesterday's Post, so-"
"How does he look?" Donna interrupted.
Josh tried not to picture the image of Sam that he knew was going to haunt him. "Like he's been held captive for four days."
"So what happens now?"
"I really don't know. The Statement of Aims is going to be published on Monday and then the Colombian Dinner is on Wednesday. Both of which the FARC will probably demand to be cancelled. They've already had one demand refused and it's pretty clear how that turned out for Sam. If they…" Josh's voice trailed off and he stood up.
"What?"
"I was just going to say that if they wanted the Colombian prisoners…" Josh stared at the floor deep in thought. "They told Leo what they wanted, so they must have said what they…"
"Josh?"
Josh didn't answer he was already rushing past Donna and heading for Toby's office.
Toby was sitting on his sofa reading the Washington Post that had just arrived. He had turned the top of the page over so that he didn't have to look at the latest headline about Sam.
"What don't I know?" Josh said by way of greeting as he burst into the room.
"Well, I think you've proved on a number of occasions, that there's quite a lot you don't know."
"Toby!" Josh's voice was low. Toby sighed and put the paper down.
"I don't know much more than you. I've told you what Ron said and Leo told you what happened when he spoke to them."
"What else do they want? What will they do if their next demand isn't met?"
"I don't know."
Josh snorted. "You've seen the picture. They sent us that to show what had happened because we didn't release the prisoners. What's next?"
The phrase was a common one. They said it when they wanted to move on, pick themselves up, but this time the words were chilling. "I don't know, Josh. They'll phone again, repeat their demands and make new threats." Toby leant forward and put his head in his hands. "I don't think they're just going to beat Sam up next time though."
"I'm going to see, Leo. We need to stop the Statement of Aims being announced and then cancel the dinner." Josh started towards the door but Toby didn't move. "Why are you sitting there? Why are we just sitting here doing nothing when we know what they want? We can release the Statement when Sam's back, the President can have his State Dinner when Sam's back. Am I the only one who realises it's that easy?" Josh shouted.
"Yes, you are. And when you've calmed down you'll go back to being rational and knowing that we can't do anything except hope and pray that the secret service find Sam before we have to refuse their next demand."
The fight seemed to leave Josh, and he slumped onto the sofa next to Toby. "I'm going to go home and grab a shower."
"Get Donna to drive you." At Josh's quizzical expression Toby continued, "You haven't slept, I doubt you've eaten much either and you've just had quite an impressive emotional outburst, get Donna to drive." Josh left and Toby walked into Sam's office. He sat behind the desk and looked at the photos around the room, he needed to get the image of Sam, that he had seen that morning, out of his head and replace it with pictures of happier times.
Sam hadn't come to until the evening when Javier came to take the photos. He had slapped Sam's face and shouted at him to wake up. Sam had been left alone again, the bright flashes from the camera dancing in front of him until he had slipped, once more, into darkness. He had not woken again until the morning of the following day. Mael came down into the basement with a sandwich and a glass of water. He shook Sam until he responded with a groan and then left. Sam sat up slowly and eased himself into a sitting position against the wall. He couldn't face the thought of food but he sipped slowly at the water. He felt disgusted with himself for showing fear and pain to them. He hadn't begged though and he wouldn't. No matter what they did, Sam told himself, he wouldn't beg. He tried to work out what day it was. He knew the trial had been scheduled for Friday and so he had been taken to the basement on Friday night. He might have only been asleep for a couple of hours, but Sam was sure that it had been longer and that it must be Saturday now. Although which part of Saturday, he couldn't tell.
He tried to think about what would be happening at work. He wondered if they would still be planning to release the Statement of Aims. He pictured the President explaining that he wouldn't negotiate and he wondered if anyone was arguing with him. He pictured Josh running towards him and then freezing. Sam forced the image from his mind. Josh would be arguing with the President, making him change his mind. They wouldn't give up on Sam. He hadn't realised he was shaking until the glass slipped from his hand. It didn't break but rolled to the other side of the room. Sam didn't attempt to wipe the water from his shirt. He was too cold to even notice it.
Donna had taken Josh home, waited for him to shower and change and then brought him back. CJ and Toby were kept busy most of the day dealing with the fallout from the picture which had been released by the Post. Leo spent the day with Bartlet and Ron. Josh had nothing to occupy him. He didn't want to see Toby after their earlier discussion and CJ was too busy to stop to talk. Donna spent the time catching up on work and trying to persuade Josh to go home.
"There is nothing you can do. If you go home, I can go home," she reasoned.
"You can go home."
"I'm not leaving you. You'll sleep here again if I do." She walked closer to the desk. "Why don't you go and sort out Sam's office. Bonnie said the agents left it in a mess."
"Ginger's already done it." Josh said as he reached for the paperclips and started to fix them together.
"I know! Why don't you go to Sam's apartment and see if that needs fixing. The agents have finished there. Things might need switching off or…whatever."
"When you said you're not leaving me, did that include going to Sam's?" Josh asked as he searched his drawer for Sam's keys.
"I'll get my coat," Donna said.
After being in Sam's place for a few minutes, Donna began to think that it wasn't such a good idea after all. Josh picked up the pile of newspapers and mail while Donna looked around the living room. It was clear that the agents had been but they had left things in a reasonable state. Clearer still were the remainders of Sam's last morning at home. An empty coffee cup stood on the living room table next to an open copy of the TV Guide. Sam had circled the game that he and Josh had later made plans to watch. On the bed, a number of neckties were laid out. A shirt was lying next to them and two ties lay on top of that. Josh thought about how Sam had found out about the staff betting on which tie he wore. "He must have tried all of these on that morning and he still wore the same one."
Josh picked up one and fiddled with it. "I told him I'd make a killing if he wore this one." Donna reached in front of him and started to put them away. When she had finished she found Josh in the kitchen looking at a piece of paper stuck to the fridge. Under the printed heading 'Don't Forget!' it read,
Phone Mom
Tux for Wednesday
Imitrex!
Josh screwed it up and threw it in the bin. Donna emptied the fridge of food that had gone off while Josh emptied the coffee machine and the trash can. They worked in silence. When it was clear that there was nothing else they could do they sat on the sofa, side by side. Josh closed his eyes and let his head fall back. When he opened them again it was dark outside. He could hear sounds coming from the kitchen as he recognised Sam's apartment. For a few brief moments he thought it was Sam making the noise but then he remembered why he was there and he rubbed his hands over his face and walked wearily towards the kitchen to join Donna in her fourth, and his sixth cup of coffee of the day.
Leo wished he was anywhere but in his office waiting for Javier to ring. Again, Javier had phoned the Washington Post and told them that he would be phoning the White House within the hour with more demands. Graham, the technician, had already managed to irritate Toby by demanding he sit out of the way of any of the wires that ran from Leo's desk. Toby watched Graham, who was unconcerned with the conversation that was about to take place and was totally focused on making sure the equipment worked. Toby had a flash of guilt for not phoning Josh to tell him of the latest development but it soon faded as he recalled his last conversation with him. He was sure wherever Josh was, it would be better for him than sitting here waiting for the phone to ring. When it rang, everyone in the room jumped, apart from Graham. He just checked a reading and started jotting notes on a pad.
Sam crawled to the corner of the room and tried to escape the draft. He curled into a tight ball, ignoring the pain in his chest which now throbbed constantly. His hands had been untied and he was grateful for the movement it allowed him, as he rubbed them up and down his arms in a fruitless effort to create some warmth. The door at the top of the stairs opened and Sam was blinded by the light that entered the room. He opened his eyes when he heard the footsteps reach the bottom of the stairs. Sam knew he was shaking but he didn't care now if they realised or not. He didn't care anymore, and that should have worried him more than it did. He just wanted to be warm again. He knew he wasn't going to feel safe, so he would settle for warm.
He was taken back to the bedroom and thrown on the bed. He was surprised to see Javier enter the room. "What does the Statement of Aims say?" he asked as he gestured for the other two men to leave the room.
"It..err..it says," a coughing fit halted Sam. "It says…plans and how we are going to help them make them work." Sam's vocabulary seemed to escape him and he groped for words that he would normally use, but couldn't find.
"What's the first 'plan'?"
"The…giving…there's going to be," Sam stopped and sighed, frustrated at his inability to form a sentence. "There will be money for training…err…training Colombian forces, special training."
Javier just nodded thoughtfully. And then he crouched by the side of the bed. "Leo McGarry is a wise man. He is…" he waved in hand in the air, looking for the expression, "stringing me along. Do you think they will cancel the dinner?"
"No." Sam didn't even have to think about his reply. They weren't going to find him. He wasn't sure they were even looking. He wanted to ask for a blanket. He wanted to stop feeling cold.
"No," Javier echoed, and he stood and left the room.
Sam climbed off the bed and managed to pull out the rough blanket that covered the mattress. He got back onto the bed and pulled it around him. Initiatives; that was the word he had meant instead of plans. With that thought Sam welcomed the blackness that enveloped him once more.