Woody couldnt help but stare. It was as though the life had been sucked out of him, and nothing in the world could pry him away. There was no way, absolutly no way, that all this blood was Jordans. It couldnt be. He was in denial and this was plainly clear to both Garret and Mr. Walker. Garret put a reassuring hand on Woodys shoulder and tried to guide him away. But he refused to move. He stood there transfixed, staring at the blood as though his sight alone would make it dissapear.

"Woody come on." Garret said, still trying to remove him from the frame of the door

"Garret this isnt right. This cant be her blood. It just cant be. Don't you think we would have knowen if she was dead? Dont you think we would have sensed it?"Woody said, finally allowing Garret to guide him away. Garrets hand still on his shoulder, he took him over to a bench by the curb and sat hm down.

"Woody, we need to stay positive. There's a chance that this blood isnt even hers. I wont know until I test it." Garret said, trying his hand at making Woody feel better.

"Garret," Woody said jumping up. "If the car is here, only three blocks from where she was taken, that means that they couldnt hae gone far. That they're around here somewhere!" Woody said excitedly.

"Not nessecarily Hoyt. The kidnapper could have had another get-a-way car waiting here for them. A smart plan considering they were stealing an ME from eight under a detectives nose." Garret said. Woody's face fell. "I'm sorry Woody. I didn't mean to blame this on you. This isnt your fault."

"Are you kidding? She told me she was going out front, I offered to send an officer with her but she refused and I accepted. They really did take her from right under my nose," Woody said, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

ooooooooo

Jordan sat up and sized up the room around her. She sat up and leaned over, coughing blood out of her mouth. She looked around. The walls were made of rough stone, a small bale of hay in the far corner. The only window was a small slit of a hole, just big enough for her to fit through. She stood up, feeling for the first time the extent of her injuries. Her left ankle was swollen and her ribs ached. Some of them were clearly broken. With her wieght resting on her right ankle, she leaned over and spit out more blood. Walking over to the bale of hay, she felt around it, trying to find some sort of hole that she could use as leverage to pull herself up. To her lick, there was a sizable hole that she shoved her hand into and pulled, yanking her aching body up ontop of the bale of hay. Sitting on her knees, her eyes were level with the window. Jordan looked out into what lay on the other side of the thick glass. It looked like a street. She could see a small lampost on the other side of the street outside a shabby looking house. By the looks of the street, she was somewhere on the outskirts of Boston, a crumby neighbourhood, probably lots of drug operations.

"You're never gonna get out that window. Believe me, I've tried." a voice said. Jordan wheeled around, startled. She couldnt see anyone there.

"Who's there," she asked defensivly.

"Relax. I'm a prisioner here, same as you." she said. "I'm an M.E from California. I came to Boston on vacation and was kidnapped."

"Wait I heard about that. Veronica Fordan right?" Jordan asked.

"Exactly," she said.

Jordan climbed down from the bale of hay and walked cautiously over to the shadows where the voice was coming from. Eyes adjusting slightly to the dark, Jordan could see the heafty figure of a plump, mid-forties woman, huddled in the corner of the room, back to the wall. "Jordan Cavanaugh," she said, extending her hand to the woman.

"I know," she said, grabing Jordans hand and shaking it. Jordan could tell that she had been there awhile. Her hands were rough and dirty, her once perfectly manicured nails caked with dirt and grime. "They told me you were coming." she said rather eerily.

"They?" Jordan asked, sittig next to the woman.

"Ya. The people who put us in here." she said.

"What are you talking about?" Jordan asked.

"If you think this is all random you're sorely mistaken. They're after M.E's." Veronica said.

"They? Who are they?" Jordan asked, a little more impatiently now.

"They're a socitiy that call themselves Team X. They're a group of men who met eachother in prison, they were all charged for accomplice to murder, convicted by certain medical examiners," she said. "They're in for revenge. Taking all people that convicted them down. You and I were both taken in for the same reason. I convicted James Baker, I believe you're the one whos testimony put Carlos Montgomery behind bars. At least until now." she finished.

"Wow," Jordan said.

"Ya. And dont think that you're gonna get out of here any time soon. I've been in this place for 5 months. The security is incredible." Veronica said.

"Well you dont know me very well. If you think that I'm really gonna sit down and accept this, you've got a lot to learn." Jordan said, refusing to admit defeat.

"Dr. Cavanaugh, believe me, there's no oe in the world that can save you here. Not anyone, as much as you want to believe it." she said.

Jordan shook her her, still not accepting what she was saying. "I'm not taking this sitting down. I refuse. Now you can sit here and wallow if you want, but I'm gonna try and find a way to get out." she said. Jordan got up and walked back over to the bale of hay, hoisting herself up onto it and staring intently out the window. Behind her, she heard the noise of a heavy metal door opening, the bottom scraping against the hard, stone floor. Jordan turned around. Standing in the door, a body-guard sized man was waiting, a gun laying across the palm of one of his hands. He looked menacing. Jordan hopped down from the hay as best she could without injuring herself any more. She stood on the opposite side of the room, glaring just as menacingly back at the man.

"Dr. Cavanaugh, so nice of you to join us. Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life." he said, his cold tone sending shivers down her spine.