Disclaimers etc: See Chapter 1

Massive thank you to my beta anmodo. Also thanks to everyone that has reviewed.

Chapter 5

Undisclosed location

Sunday 1645 – 516.75 hours missing

The needle made its way painfully and slowly towards Danny's arm. Then Molotov stopped. "If you tell me the government's responses to a bio attack on New York, I will let you go; well at least I will make your death quick and painless."

"As I have told you every time we have these 'little chats,' I have no idea what they are and even if I did I won't tell you, so you might as well shoot that crap into me."

With this, Molotov signalled to one his goons to take Danny to a cell. As the goon threw Danny into a cell, Molotov stood in the doorway. "I don't kill on the Sabbath; I want the information by midnight tonight. You have 7 hours."

Danny lay on the cold, damp floor. Was this, the end? He didn't know why he suddenly wanted to live. Sitting up slowly, he tried to ignore the dizziness and the pain that tried to consume his body. He had to think, but going towards the blackness—away from all the pain, this hell—was so welcoming, but that wasn't going to help his cause. Leaning against the cool walls of the cell, he closed his eyes and started to think of the team…Sam…the various girlfriends…family. Then it hit him with the force of an express train: Ebola……drug dealers…..questions about the government reactions to terrorist acts. Danny mentally slapped himself. Why the hell had it taken this long, he asked himself? With renewed energy and a clear goal—this wasn't just his life on the line—but millions of innocent men, women and children, he slowly got up and looked around. This was the 'escape cell'. Even in his weakened state, he could still escape tonight. He had to escape tonight.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A Plane somewhere above the eastern seaboard

Sunday 1700 – 517 hours missing

A 737 flew eastwards through the darkening sky. Sam looked to her left to check if Jack was asleep, and then slowly withdrew a case file. She ran her fingers over the familiar photo; it had been damn near 3 weeks. If anyone asked, she could tell them the hours, the minutes, even the seconds that Daniel Taylor had been missing.

NYPD also had no luck with Danny's case, but this could be because they were looking at it from a different perspective. They were looking for Danny the murder suspect, not Danny the missing person. She had reviewed Danny's case every night, but still had found nothing. People just didn't disappear into mid-air. She had investigated deep undercover programs with the FBI, DEA and any other agency she could gain access to. She had even checked through all the resent additions to the Witness Protection Program, but kept running into dead ends. Even though the most likely outcome of this godforsaken case was that Danny was dead, she still believed he was alive. Looking out the window, she tried to locate the North Star but saw only darkness and constant flashing of the aeroplane's lights.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Undisclosed location

Sunday 1730 – 517.5 hours

Danny sat and listened for a while, waiting for the footsteps to fade away. Once he was sure that he could move the bricks without being detected, he began the slow and arduous process. The bouts of coughing didn't help. The limited food he'd had during his time in captivity started to show on his lean body. They had given him enough food to keep him alive, but between not caring about life and being fearful what they had put in it, he hadn't had nearly enough food to fuel his body for the escape.

Finally after what felt like an age, Danny had removed enough bricks to make his escape possible. He paused, this was his only chance to make things right, to correct his mistakes and hopefully prevent the murder of millions of innocent lives. Slowly he crawled out of the small hole into the elements. The weather outside was usually only reserved for horror movies, horizontal rain, wind howling through the trees and lighting dancing across the sky. He looked around and hurried into the darkness, not knowing what direction he should go and just hoping the direction he was going in was the right one.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Vivian's apartment

Sunday 1800 – 518 hours missing

Reggie had just finished his homework. After months of acting up, he had finally had settled down. Viv had also tried to protect Reggie from the horrors of the world, from the horrors of her job. It frightened her that Reggie could become one of New York's many gunshot victims. If one of her team mates, got shot that was bad enough, but that was the risk they took everyday. Reggie was just a kid. Sitting down, she picked up the sport section and thought of her 'other son.' Viv hoped where ever Danny was that he was ok.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Undisclosed Location

Sunday 1830 – 518.5 hours missing

The rain continued to lash down on him. He shivered. He was so tired, but he had to keep going. Then as fatigue overtook him he thought, maybe it would be possible to rest for a bit. Sinking down leaning against a tree, he tried to control his breathing, but it kept coming in short, shallow gasps. He needed to rest for a couple of minutes before continuing, but he had to get the information to the FBI. After that he didn't care what happened to him, it was not as if anyone else would care. He looked at the number on his arm. Was it selfish to remove the number? So he would die with a name not a number. Holding the piece of glass in his hand – which he took as his weapon – Danny cut in to his arm, and watched in fascination as his blood mixed with the rainwater. After watching for a while, he managed to stand up to continue his quest.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Downtown New York City

Sunday 1900 – 519 hours missing

Dropshot sat and looked at the target. He smiled. Tomorrow would be a start of a new beginning. In a few days, America would be reeling from the rap from Stalin's Comrades; soon the capitalist world would pay for their mistakes. Taylor had just had become a pawn in his game so they would understand what it was like to lose one of their own. No one in this world was innocent, but now they would pay for their actions.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Somewhere in Southern New Jersey

Sunday 2000 – 520 hours missing

Danny had no idea how long he had been walking before he came across an old ford pickup. Looking around, he found nothing to break the truck's window. Using his fist to break the window, he opened the truck's door and tried to sweep the majority of the glass out, but his feet quickly told him that he hadn't completed the task.

Danny rested his head against the steering wheel; soon he felt his body shake as he broke down in tears. He knew he had to face someone in the FBI. Danny just hoped it wasn't anyone on the team. He didn't want to see their disappointment; he didn't want them to see his weakness. He just wanted to give them the information and then for them to let him die. Danny sat up and took a couple of shaky, painful breaths. He was so weak, but some how, he needed to pull himself together and get to New York. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he put the truck into gear and pulled off, wincing as the glass imbedded its self farther into his feet.

He had previously determined that he was near Roosevelt City in Lebanon State Forest, New Jersey so, therefore, he knew he had to head north. The oncoming traffic's headlights were mocking him, he thought, adding misery to his headache, which was rapidly turning into a migraine.

Danny did not understand why Jack had given him a place on the team because he was obviously stupid. Why else would it of have taken him the huge amount of time to work out that they were planning a terrorist attack. If it had been someone else, the terrorist attack would have been thwarted by now, his brother would still be alive—but no, Danny thought, I was stupid. Because of him, his brother was dead, he was the only suspect and due to a terrorist attack, countless millions may still die.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Martin's apartment complex

Sunday 2200 – 522 hours missing

Martin walked toward the car in the corner of the garage. Pulling off the cover he slipped inside. He sat inside and let his thoughts consume him. He had done this everyday since he had picked up Danny's car. It had become part of his daily routine. After work, he would run the car for a few minutes, just so Danny wouldn't come back to a flat battery. Martin also had brought Danny's car a cover—hoping to protect it from the endless dirt that some how made its way into the garage. He just hoped Danny had some form of protection.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

New York

Sunday 2230 – 522.5 hours missing

How he ever arrived in New York, Danny would never know. He had to pull over at least twice to vomit. The second this happened, he was throwing up blood. He didn't understand why this terrified him. He didn't think he was afraid of death – believing he had nothing to live for. He thought maybe it was because he believed he would die before he could tell anyone about the attack.

Arriving at Federal Plaza, he dumped the truck. He would tell someone about it so the poor owner wouldn't be fined or anything. He had already caused enough pain to people he knew. He didn't want to do the same to other innocent people that happened to get caught in his wake.

He walked towards the back route in the building, which was usually reserved for undercover agents so no swipe card was needed. It was still incredibly secure—with a renal and fingerprint scan needed to gain access to the building. Leaning against the wall, he felt the adrenaline leave his body. He had to force his body to go on just for a bit longer…just so he could tell someone about the attacks, then he could succumb to an eternal slumber. Using the wall to support himself, Danny slowly made it towards the elevator. He felt he was on auto-pilot as he pressed the button to go to the 30th floor. As the doors slid open, he walked towards an office; he didn't know why he was drawn to this particular one. It felt familiar. It felt safe. Maybe he could rest for a minute, get his breath back and pull himself together before he made the call. Yes that was a good idea, he thought; a couple minutes wouldn't make a difference. Crossing the office, he collapsed on the couch and into a pain free oblivion.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

FBI NY HQ

Sunday 2300 – 523 hours missing

Jack slowly walked into his office; it had been a long day. He and Sam had just flown back from Phoenix. Dropping his bags, he flicked on a light and watched as the room filled with light. At least they had closed that case and the missing person had been safely returned home. Running his hands through his hair, he picked up the phone checking for messages but in reality, he was only checking to see if there were any leads on Danny's case. The case had been dead end after dead end, and each time he walked along the Hudson, Jack kept expecting to see Danny's body. His sixth sense pulled him out of his thoughts. There was someone else in the room. Jack started to cautiously walk towards the dark shape on the couch. "Danny!" Jack gasped and quickly sat next to him. Placing two fingers on Danny's neck he tried to find a pulse. "Come on Danny. Don't do this to me!"

TBC……

Please review. Ok I know the FBI building probably wouldn't security system described above and I am pretty sure that all the bridges into Manhattan have tolls on them, but I am playing the artistic license card. Oh I made up Stalin's Comrades, but if it is a real organization, I apologize for making a terrorist group.