CHAPTER 5
Sean tensed as the door to their prison was unlocked, but John stood up, tucking his shirt in, and prepared to face his kidnappers.
Two men entered the room, both carrying handguns, and indicated that Sean and John should come with them, by way of waving their guns around, so with Sean following him, John walked out of the door, and down the corridor, into another room, an office, by the look of the furniture.
"Ah, Doctors Troy and McNamara," said a man, who was relaxing in a large and comfortable leather chair, behind an impressive looking desk. "I am so glad you are co-operating with Miguel and Pepe. I think we can come to a profitable arrangement."
He indicated for them to sit in the two chairs that were placed there, and when John hesitated, one of the men behind him hit him quite sharply, on one shoulder, with the butt of his gun, and shoved him towards the chair. John sat down next to Sean without saying anything and not putting a hand up to rub his shoulder, which he wanted to do, but cast a speculative sideways look at the man who had hit him.
One of the men, the shorter older one, was the one known to Sean as Pepe – but it was the bigger, younger one that had hit John, and who now looked down at him with a contemptuous sneer on his face.
The man facing them sat down also, and regarded them both, but mostly looked at Sean.
"Escobar wants me to kill you both," he said smiling gently, as if discussing the weather. "But I need money, and I am a reasonable man, so I am sure with your skill, we can come to an arrangement that is profitable to all of us. The first of the girls will be arriving tonight, and you'll do the removal of the implants. After you have done several, we might talk about letting you go."
"We can't operate here," said Sean. "I need a proper operating room, with the proper facilities."
"Rest assured, Doctor McNamara, I have everything here that you will need. So Miguel will escort you to a room where you can freshen up, and bring you some food. The first girl comes at 6, you will be prepared to operate then, or I will kill you both."
Sean glanced at John, who nodded at him. "We have no choice Sean," he said, hoping it was the sort of thing Christian would have said. "These bastards have us over a barrel."
"I would advise you to watch your mouth, Doctor Troy," came the response, "I understand that you are the less talented of the partners. Miguel already doesn't like you, and I would hate to see his zeal end up in your death."
John stared defiantly back at him for a moment, then dropped his eyes, giving the cold- eyed men watching, the impression of being angry, but scared. The larger man, Miguel, sniggered a little, and grabbed his arm, pulling him to his feet, and pushing him roughly toward the doorway.
"Oh by the way," said the man behind the desk. "My name is Salvatore – Escobar is my brother. I hope you gentlemen will understand if I am a little upset at what you did to him. I hope neither of you does something that upsets me or one of my men, further."
He left the threat, hanging in the air, before the one known as Miguel pushed John hard in the back, causing him to stumble out of the door, and crash into the wall opposite the doorway, and laughing when he did so.
John ground his teeth, and silently counted to ten under his breath, to control his temper.
They were unceremoniously shoved into a different room this time, and the door locked behind them. John twisted the knob on the door a few times then turned to look around the room.
"At least we have a bed now," he said, "And a bathroom, thank God. And some towels, do you want first shower, or shall I?"
Sean sat on the bed. He looked sick.
"I can't do what he wants," he said to John. "Ethically, I can't operate on some poor woman, under these conditions. But these men are killers, and they will kill us."
John sat down beside him. "Look," he said "Your partner must know you are missing by now, and the people I came with will know I am missing, so there are people out there looking for us right now. We have to pretend to go along with what they want, and wait for the right opportunity to make our escape. You are going to have to do these surgeries, because there is no way I could do it – but we are going to have to bluff our way through.
I am going to try to nudge this Miguel, he looks hot headed to me, and I am going keep pushing at him to see what sort of reaction I get. If something happens to me, you keep doing what they say, and hanging in there, because someone will eventually work out where you are."
Sean looked at him and frowned. "What did you say you did for a living?" he asked, and John smiled.
"It doesn't matter at this stage," he said. "I'm going to check out the shower, and try and have a proper sleep for a few hours. I suggest you do the same; you'll want to be as fresh as you can."
Sean lay back on the bed, and listened to the water running in the bathroom. A commotion at the door made him stand up quickly, the door opened and Miguel came in carrying a tray, which he shoved onto a table.
"Coffee and your lunch senor," he said, "Where is your partner?"
Sean indicated the bathroom with a jerk of his head, and the other man sneered and took a step in the direction of the bathroom, then stopped and looked at Sean.
"Enjoy your lunch, it may be your last," and he walked out of the room, making sure Sean heard the lock turn. When John came out of the shower, still rubbing a towel through his wet and curling hair, Sean was drinking hot coffee and eating a sandwich.
He indicated the coffee pot, and John poured himself a cup, his face screwing up a little, he wasn't a huge coffee fan, but needed something hot and wet to drink.
"That's better," he said, finally taking a sip. "I know I had to put back on the same clothes, but the shower is o.k. Why don't you have one, then try to rest till they come back?"
"I will," said Sean and disappeared into the bathroom. When he came out John was lying on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. Sean went over and poured himself the dregs of the coffee, and sat down, staring across at the other man.
"I still can not believe how much you look like Christian," he said to John. "The likeness is amazing, and has to be familial. Christian was fostered out as a baby, and doesn't know what his actual birth name was. What are the chances you could be related?"
John shrugged his shoulders. "Within the realms of possibility I suppose," he said. "My old man was – is a bastard. It's more than possible he impregnated some poor girl on his travels around. And, unfortunately, I look like my father, so I guess Christian must look like my father as well."
"Christian will tell you the only fortunate thing in his life has been his looks," said Sean, and John slanted an amused glance at him.
"Well he can't look that much like me then," he said lying back down and closing his eyes. "Get some rest while you can Sean, conserve your strength for whatever happens later."
Bailey had the dart flown to Grace for analyzing. He prowled around the police station, trying not to appear too anxious, but he was becoming very worried. Rachel stayed to see the package on its way to Atlanta; then grabbed a directory.
"I'm going to talk with the partner again," she said. "I am convinced that John's disappearance has something to do with that Doctor Troy. It's too much of a coincidence."
Bailey nodded his agreement. "I'll stay here – just in case he gets in touch. Take someone with you – I can't afford to lose another of my agents."
Rachel nodded, and after some consultation, a young female detective came over and introduced herself as Stacey Loxton, and told Rachel she had been asked to accompany her while she made her enquiries.
"I hope you don't misplace your agents often," said Stacey to Rachel as they got into the unmarked police car with which Rachel had been provided. "It sort of takes away a lot of the mystique of the Bureau."
Rachel smiled wryly. "Well, this is John we are talking about…" she replied, "And he is rather a special case."
Stacey glanced over at her. "Where are we going?" she asked, pulling out of the police park, and entering the traffic. Rachel told her the address, which luckily she knew, and they drove for a while in silence.
"So tell me about this agent, what's so special about him?" Stacey finally said, and Rachel shrugged her shoulders.
"He is one of the team," she said finally. "Someone I work with very closely. You know how it is."
"Yes, I know how it is. What makes him special in your eyes?" said Stacey with a grin.
Rachel gave a small laugh. "Well, lets see, he's aggravating, irritating, and contrary," she said.
"And?" prompted the young detective.
"And loyal and funny sometimes, and always trying to argue with me. All of those things – he's John, and he's my friend."
Stacey nodded. "Yes," she said, "In our job, we need to rely on each other, and look out for one another. How on earth have you misplaced him?"
"Well, I think he's been kidnapped," said Rachel bluntly, finally voicing her fears.
Stacey flicked a glance at her; then turned her attention back towards the traffic. "Kidnapped?" she queried. "Does he know anyone here, I thought you guys were only here for a day or so."
"We are," responded Rachel. "But I think it's a case of mistaken identity."
The young detective nodded, and pulled the car over into the car park of a fairly modern building, turning off the engine.
"This is the address you gave me," she said. "A doctors surgery?"
"I need to talk to one of the doctors here," said Rachel, climbing out of the car and straightening her skirt. The two women entered through the door of the fancy looking clinic, and Rachel pulled out her i.d. badge as she approached the reception desk.
"I need to talk to Dr. Troy," she told the pretty receptionist. "FBI"
The receptionist looked up rather superciliously. "Doctor Troy is in surgery at the moment," she said.
"Well we will just wait over here," said Rachel, "And you can let him know as soon as he is available, that we are waiting."
"It could be sometime," said the receptionist, "But I'll inform Nurse Linda, as soon as she comes out, and she will relay the message."
They sat down in the plush waiting room, and after glancing around, Stacey lent forward.
"This place is fairly well known here in Miami," she said to Rachel, in a low voice. "Why would you think one of the doctors here know anything about your partner's disappearance?"
"I don't know anything," replied Rachel honestly. "But I need to talk to Doctor Troy, he is the image of John Grant, and his partner is missing also. There has to be a connection."
They looked up, as Christian Troy came into the waiting area. Rachel's heart leaped again, and she had to remind herself strongly, that this man wasn't John, and of course she had never seen John dressed in blue scrubs that exactly matched his eyes. Or have quite such a measuring look in those same blue eyes, when he stared at her. Stacey sent an inquiring glance at Rachel, who stood up, and held out her badge.
"Doctor Troy, I need to speak with you," she said crisply, "Have you heard from your partner yet?"
Christian Troy looked annoyed, but he indicated that the women should follow him down to his office.
"I am very busy," he told Rachel, sitting down behind his desk, and folding his arms in a slightly irritated manner. "I have just finished two operations, and have another in an hour. No, I haven't heard from my partner."
"Is this usual behavior for Doctor McNamara?" asked Rachel, not intimidated at all by Christian's brusque manner. "Does he often leave you to carry the case load?"
"No," Christian shook his head, and some of the tenseness left him. "No, he doesn't usually skip his surgeries, he is way too responsible. In fact, I think something has happened to him."
"Do you know of anyone who would want to stop you or your partner from performing surgery?" she asked, leaning forward, unable to stop staring at him. "Have you got some special operation to perform that someone would want to stop perhaps?"
"No," he said, looking at her as if she were mad. "All of our operations are special. I have no idea why Sean would go missing."
"Well I think that someone has detained him, and you as well," said Rachel, still staring at the handsome face she knew so well, yet not at all. "And we have to work out why and who."
"I have no idea how I can help you," he said, standing up. "Obviously no one has detained me. Hopefully Sean will turn up."
Rachel stood also, though she was still looking up at him. "No, not you," she said. "I think these people have got John instead, thinking he is you. I told you before, that he looks very much like you."
Christian sat back down. "You think my partner and yours, have been kidnapped?"
"Yes," she replied. "And I think you must know something about why. Even if you don't think you know."
Christian stared at her for a long time, then chewed a bit on his bottom lip, and Rachel shook her head in disbelief. It was a major habit of John's, to bite his lip when thinking, or under stress.
"This guy, he means a lot to you, doesn't he?" he said. and Rachel refused to drop her eyes, but stared back at him, without answering.
Eventually he stood up. "I really do have another procedure to do in a few minutes," he said, even as a nurse knocked and entered the room. "I will think about what you've said, and if I get any thoughts, I'll contact you."
"I would like to talk to you again, after you have finished," said Rachel smoothly, to disguise how rattled she was by his likeness to John. "I will wait till I hear from you."
The two women walked back to the car, and as Stacey slid into the driver's seat, she turned to Rachel.
"So you are telling me that your partner looks like Christian Troy?" she said, raising both eyebrows.
"Uncannily like him," replied Rachel taking a deep breath to steady herself before buckling her seat belt. "Why?"
"Wow," said Stacey with a grin. "No wonder you want to find him. That doctor was a real looker. Can you imagine having his healing hands all over your body?"
Rachel laughed again. "No, I think it would be strange. He looks too much like John, even has some of his mannerisms. It's really most bizarre."
They headed back to police headquarters, Rachel staring blankly out of the window, not seeing the buildings, or the people, but worrying, wondering where John was, and what had happened to him, and feeling helpless because she didn't know what to do or where to go next, in order to find him.