The two OSI men entered Rudy's townhouse using a key that Oscar had. The NSB had been instructed to leave the space as they found it, so that the OSI could also investigate. There was an eerie countenance in the still darkness of the living room that made Steve's mouth go dry. The two men made a quick preliminary search, but didn't find anything helpful.

Goldman's voice was soft, "They've completely torn this place apart." He swallowed hard, fear filling him. "I wonder what they've done to him."

"Oscar, you can't think like that."

Goldman nodded and walked back into Rudy's study. If he knew Rudy Wells at all, this is the room he would have been in when he was taken, no matter what time of the day or night. Oscar looked around at the mess. Books were on the floor, the computer terminal missing, the desk drawers smashed and papers strewn about. Oscar walked over to the desk, and spotted a bloodstain on the top, and he felt the bile rising in his throat. Steve walked into the room, and the sorrow in Goldman's body language tore at him.

"Oscar, this isn't your fault."

"Yes Steve, it is." Oscar fingered the bloodstain. "If he doesn't survive...."

Goldman's voice died out, his emotions choking off the thought.

Austin walked over to his friend, looked down at the bloodstain, and gently squeezed his shoulder. "Give Rudy a little credit, he's pretty tough, you know."

Oscar looked into Steve's eyes. "That's exactly what frightens me. That, and the fact that Jack Hansen is good at his job."

Steve understood, and for a moment he allowed himself to feel his own heavy heart. Then an idea struck him. Steve walked over to Rudy's desk, and sat down in the chair.

"What are you doing?"

"Bear with me, Oscar, let's think this through..... Rudy is at his desk, working--"

"--Where he always is...."

"Yes. He's working, when he hears something. He takes his reading glasses off, setting them on the desk..." Steve looked to his right, and sure enough, Rudy's glasses were smashed on the floor by the chair. "....and then he gets up and walks toward the door."

Oscar picked up the reenactment. "But the door opens before he can get to it." Goldman looked behind the open door, and checked the wall, finding an indentation of the doorknob in the plaster from being shoved open.

Steve continued, "Rudy stops in the middle of the room..." Steve moved to about where he figured Rudy would have been. "...and several men come through the door, holding guns. He asks them who they are and what they want, and instead of answering, one of them grabs him by the arm."

Oscar moved forward, and gently took Steve by the arm, holding him. "The men are most likely wearing masks of some kind, so he looks for some other way to identify them...."

"But even if he found one--"

"--The man holding him would move him forward, toward the door."

Oscar slowly moved Steve toward the door.

Steve's voice rose in pitch, "Yes, so Rudy would have feigned a break for it, in order to buy himself some time, knowing that they would have been instructed not to shoot him." Steve gently shoved Oscar away, and headed back toward the desk. He looked up at Goldman. "The man holding him would have been closest...."

Oscar moved toward Steve, grabbing him by the back of his shirt collar. "He would have grabbed Rudy from behind...."

Steve pointed toward the blood on the desk. "And you're in the perfect position to show you mean business...."

Oscar gently brought Steve's head toward the desk, touching it where the blood stained the top.

Steve continued, "Rudy would have been slightly stunned, and fallen to the floor." Steve sat down to the right of the center of the desk, coming eye level with the middle drawer. And there it was, small, but unmistakable. "Oscar, look!"

Goldman bent down to join Austin. "I'll be damned, he drew it in his own blood."

Steve grabbed a pencil and paper from the floor, and copied the crude drawing. "Any idea what it means?"

Oscar looked at the small cross with the top of a question mark attached to its vertical line. "I don't know, but I'm betting one of our little geniuses in research can figure it out." He looked away, guilt stinging his eyes. "I just hope we're not too late."