Author's note: You didn't think I'd leave you hanging did you? Of course I wouldn't! Besides I need the daily affirmation I get when people read and review. So, thank you all for coming back to see what happens to Munch.
Oh, Scrawler: Yes there was a Homicide episode where Munch dressed up as a priest, season 6, "Something Sacred (2)". He's only in the beginning of the episode, but he's dressed up as a priest and its pretty funny. He wears the UGLIEST hat. Check it out; it's a classic.
Speaking of Homicide. I was thinking about writing a Munch/Howard Homicide fic, sort of a precursor to this fic, to explain why Munch was in Baltimore. But my question would be, if I wrote it, would anybody go over and read it? I don't see a lot of action in the Homicide category. I'm working it in my mind; so let me know. Just so you know, it won't be a romance thing per say, more like my other fics except Munch and Howard make a cute partnership.
Okay, anyways, on to the story… Happy Reading!
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Blackness seemed to engulf him, and he wondered why his body ached. He struggled to pull himself out of the fuzziness and back into consciousness. His arms were pinned above his head and he struggled to release them down to his sides but was unable. As he regained his senses, he could taste the bile in the back of his throat, causing him to retch violently. He had never felt this sick or confused. He blinked his eyes open, attempting to adjust to the darkness of his surroundings. He adjusted his eyes into focus to get a better picture of where he was, why he was there, and how he had come to this place.
His mind searched through the fog in his brain for the last thing he could remember. He was distracted by the hardness of the ground underneath him and the immobility of his body. He wanted badly to remedy the aches and pains his body felt but could not. So instead he wracked his brain for the answers to his situation.
Piece by piece the puzzle fell into place. He had been undercover in the synagogue, listening to that mental amoeba, that so called Rabbi Reubenstein blabber on and on. He had given the assignment his full attention and support, but there had been no evidence. They had let the case go cold. They had failed and wasted their time.
At the end of the service, he stood up to leave. "I'll see you in five," he had mumbled, hoping that Fin had caught it through the cell phone in his pocket. Before he could walk out the door, Glen had caught up with him.
"Hey Rich! Wait a second!" Glen had said.
He had turned to face the younger, taller athletic man.
"The Rabbi wanted a word with you. Do you have a minute or two?" Glen had looked at him eagerly.
Truthfully, he had wanted to run out of there as fast as possible, but thinking that this might be a break in the case he agreed and followed the man. Glen had opened the door to the Rabbi's office and ushered the older man inside.
This had been his first mistake. The moment he had stepped inside and saw the smirk on Rabbi Reubenstein's face he had know he had stepped into a trap.
"Ah, Detective John Munch, finally we get a chance to talk!" the Rabbi had said.
His second mistake had been the shock and surprise that came over him when he realized his cover had been blown. He could only hope now that Fin was still listening and had realized the danger his partner was in.
The Rabbi had continued, "Pity. We'll have to wait to continue this until everyone arrives."
This statement had confused him even more. He didn't realize what was happening till it was too late. Hands reached out from behind him and restrained him. He struggled, but the cloth was placed over his mouth and nose. He could taste it and smell it and knew instantly that it was chloraform. The darkness surrounded him and he was gone.
He wasn't sure how long he had been unconscious. There were several unsure things that were bothering him. His surroundings were unfamiliar and he couldn't be sure if he was still at the synagogue. It was a small dark room that was definitely underground. There was only one small window that let him know it was daytime, but little else. There was no other furniture in the room. He looked up and realized his hands had been tied together and chained to the wall. His watch was missing.
That caused another panic as he inventoried what had been taken from him. His jacket and tie had been removed, meaning that his badge, cell phone and wallet were also gone. He found it odd that they had also taken his shoes and socks. His last ditch hope was that they had not seen the GPS tracker around his neck, but it was in vain, they had taken that as well. Although fully clothed, he felt naked as his hopes were dashed. Now Fin would never find him.
His first reaction was that they had left him there to starve to death. He felt weak and was sure it had been awhile since he ate or drank. Thinking logically, he concluded that there had to be more. The bodies they had found had endured some sort of torture. He had to escape before the same fate found him.
Footsteps alerted him to the presence of people outside the room. He strained his ears trying to pick up their conversation.
"The Rabbi wants him moved again before trial. The police are on to us."
"Of course they're on to us, he's a cop!"
"He's a sinner. He must be tried and punished."
"I don't know Mike. This doesn't seem right anymore."
"Of course this is right Chris. We all must be tried. You and I were tried and found innocent, but not all are clear before the lord."
"But we killed two people. Surely that doesn't make us innocent anymore," said Chris.
"Those were the guilty, the sinners. Their crimes dictated that they should die. We did what was commanded to us."
"But Mike…" Chris's voice trailed off.
"Enough!" announced Mike. "Either you believe or you will be condemned like the others."
"Okay," Chris said quietly, but he did not sound convinced.
Mike took no notice of this. "Good, now you get the prisoner ready, I'll go get the van."
A set of footsteps walked away as the door to the room swung open. Munch had listened intently to the conversation and hoped to use it to his advantage. All the eavesdropping in the squad room had paid off. Looking at Chris, he recognized him. Christopher Schultz was a young man who had finished dental school two years ago. He was full of hopes and dreams and had shared this with John a couple of times before and after the services. John wondered how he had gotten involved with such people.
"You're awake!" Chris said with surprise.
"Yeah, I guess I am," mumbled Munch hoarsely.
"You've been sick," Chris noticed. He searched in his bag for a towel he was carrying and attempted to clean up the mess John had vomited.
"Chloraform will do that," John said bitterly.
Chris stopped what he was doing for a moment and looked up at the other man, searching his face. "I'm sorry Rich," he said.
"Actually, its John," Munch replied.
"Oh yeah, they said that. I forgot. Its weird," said Chris.
"What's weird?" John asked. "That I'm an undercover detective with a different identity, or that I've been kidnapped and will probably be condemned to die?"
"Both," Chris simply said. He got up quickly and checked the door, making sure Mike wasn't coming back soon. He returned to Munch and untied his hands, releasing them down. John rubbed his wrist where his bonds had chaffed them. Chris reached into his bag and pulled out some apple slices and a bottle of water.
"You're not suppose to have this, but I think its only fair," Chris handed the items to John. "Please drink slowly."
"Thanks," John sipped the water and munched the apple. The two men sat there, lost in their own thoughts for a moment as John ate. Impending doom was waiting for him, and yet there was a faint hope in this man. He hoped he could play the cards right and not bust.
"Look, Chris…" Munch began, but faint footsteps outside cut him off.
"Crap!" yelped Chris. He jumped up quickly and snatched the items from John and placed them back in his bag. Replacing them, he pulled out a bottle and a rag. He poured some of the contents of the bottle on the rag and looked at Munch.
"I'm sorry John, but you can't be conscious," he said apologetically. He started towards the older man.
"I understand," John replied as he breathed the fumes once more and everything returned to black.
XXX
He awoke to the sounds of men arguing. He kept this eyes shut tight as the threat of vomiting swept over him once more. This time he was able to subdue it, but a low groan escaped his lips. Fortunately, the men were too busy to notice their captive was awake. The affects of the drug must not have been as strong the second time. He lay on his side on the ground, his hands retied behind his back. There had to be four or five men in the room, but he could hear sound of others outside the door. He concentrated on the conversation the men were having.
"Why can't we just let him go?" John recognized Chris's voice.
"Are you mad? He's police. They won't understand," an unknown man spoke.
Munch heard Mike speak next. "We're waiting for the Rabbi and Glen to return. They have no evidence, they'll have to be released soon."
This was a small comfort. Fin and the others were on the right track. If only he could clue them in somehow.
"But its almost dark soon," Chris shot back. "Its against Mosaic Law to hold trial after dark. We've had him for four days, we're bound to be caught sooner or later!"
Now John started to panic. He had been missing for four days! He couldn't believe it was already Tuesday evening.
"Maybe we should just skip the trial and kill him now," a second unrecognizable voice said.
"No, we wait for instructions from Rabbi Reubenstein. Until he returns, we wait," the first man said.
"But what if he's followed? What if the police do find something? What if he mistakenly incriminates himself? What if…"
Mike interrupted the second unknown man's questions. "There are always 'what ifs', but we shouldn't worry about that. The Rabbi is a wise man. We need only have faith. Come, let's make the last minute preparations while we wait."
John heard three sets of footsteps walk out of the room and the door was shut. The last man walked cautiously to where John lay. Munch dare not open his eyes. He wasn't willing to give away the fact that he was conscious quite yet.
"John?" the voice asked quietly. "John, I know you are awake."
Munch opened his eyes and stared back at Chris. He wanted to open his mouth and speak, but his throat was so dry, he found it hard to form the words.
"I brought some water," Chris whispered. He lifted the bottle to the other man's lips. John took the water into his mouth, but choked.
"Careful!" Chris warned. "There you go."
After a couple of sips, John felt much better. He was grateful for Chris's help, but time was running out.
"This isn't right," Munch said.
"I know, but I can't stop them," Chris replied.
"Help me escape."
Chris was taken aback. "I can't!" he stuttered.
"Please, if we don't stop this now, they'll do it again. It won't stop till we, till YOU stop them," Munch said matter-of-fact. His eyes pleaded with the younger man's. He searched Chris's face for any kind of answer.
"Tonight," Chris agreed. "But only if the Rabbi doesn't come back in time."
Munch nodded and fell back exhausted. Chris stood up and left the room.
XXX
Hours later, Munch could see that night had fallen. He started to worry that either the Rabbi had returned and Chris had aborted the escape plan, or the others had caught Chris and they were both in big trouble. For the first time in a long, long while he felt hopeless. Thinking that he'd have to go it alone, he struggled against the bonds that held him. He had made very little progress when footsteps in the hallway halted his futile attempt.
He let out the breath he'd been holding when Chris entered through the door. He looked shaken, but determined.
"We got lucky," he started. "The police are on the Rabbi's tail and he's having a hard time giving them the slip. It'll be close, but I think I can get you out of here."
Chris reached down and untied the rope around Munch's hands. He helped John up and put his arm around him for support and they headed out and down the hall, as quietly as possible. Chris had set up a few roadblocks and detours in the building that would hopefully allow them free passage to an outside door. Twice Chris had to leave Munch to head off a curious person and John listened quietly as he rested against the wall. It was a nerve wracking fifteen minutes, but they managed to make their way to freedom. John was more impressed when they found a Taxi waiting for them.
"Well, you can't walk back," Chris had explained as he helped John into the waiting cab. He handed Munch his badge and wallet. "These were the only things I could find that were yours."
"Thanks," replied Munch.
Chris turned to the cabbie and handed him some money. "Take this man where ever he needs to go."
"Sixteenth precinct," John said. The cabbie nodded and Chris backed away.
"Wait! Where are you going?" John asked Chris confused.
"Back."
"But what will they do when they find out I'm gone and you helped?"
"Kill me I suppose."
"Well that's stupid. Your life isn't worth mine. Come to the station with me; finish what you've started. Testify against these people."
"I don't know. I deserve what I get. And if the police come, I deserve the punishment we all get, too."
"Maybe you do. But with your statement, we'll make sure the police do get here and this stops. Real justice will be done."
Chris looked at Munch and then turned around and stared at the building behind him. He turned back and shut the car door. Munch felt his heart fall. Chris was making the wrong decision. Then John saw him open the front passenger door and get in. Chris turned to the cabbie.
"Get us out of here! Quick!"
