Chapter 14: In the Cage
Basement Level, Sketchbook Publishing
Monday, 14 June
6pm
Consciousness came slowly; the realization of what she was waking up to, however, did not. The bite of the handcuffs on her wrists brought the day's events back with a vengeance. She didn't move her hands, bound in front of her, because she didn't want him to know she was awake yet, and would keep it that way for as long as she could.
Elizabeth kept her eyes closed and tried to control the wave of panic rising in her throat. My blazer is gone, she realized. What did he...? Could he have...while I was out cold?
It took everything she had to clamp down on the terror and listen to her body; after a moment, she realized that no damage had been done, save for the throbbing around her right eye. She breathed a deep sigh of relief...and was roughly grabbed and dragged to her feet.
Her eyes snapped open, and Evan Graham's ice-blue gaze loomed in her vision. Without a word, he hauled her over to a support post in the middle of the small concrete room. He pressed her against it like he had the access ladder in the tunnel, only this time he forced her cuffed hands over her head. A moment's stretch, and she found herself shackled by a small hook just higher than she could reach.
He purposely slid his hands down her arms and over her ribs and hips, then kept one foot firmly planted on her left foot while he drifted down her right thigh and calf. She gritted her teeth and refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing her respond to the weight on her foot. When he reached her ankle, she heard a clink and felt something heavy wrap around her. Soon her left foot was also fettered, and she realized there would be no escape attempts again. She couldn't move her feet more than a few inches.
"Welcome, Dr. Dillingham." His voice almost oozed satisfaction. "I was rather hoping you wouldn't be asleep much longer. I am most... eager to get started."
"Don't rush on my account," she snapped, gathering the anger around herself again. "I'm in no hurry."
"I'm sure." He stepped around behind he, then whispered in her ear. "They say a well-taken picture is almost like being there, and I have been most intimately involved in your life lately, and that of your boyfriend." He indicated one of the walls.
Elizabeth had to bury a gasp. There were photographs nearly covering the wall; herself on her way to work, or puttering in her yard; walking Rachel home that last Saturday; she and Myles on her swing. There were shots of Myles leaving her house the evening after Rachel's funeral; of herself picking up the roses Graham had sent.
Perhaps most disturbing of all were shots taken at Myles' house, after protective custody had begun— herself pruning the roses, the two of them sharing a quiet moment in the living room, her silhouette against the guestroom shades as she got ready for bed. The thought of how close Graham had been made her ill.
"And then, of course..." His voice was in her ear again. "The crowing glory of all my observation." He thrust another photo in front of her face, and Elizabeth saw a blow-up of the aftermath of the tango.
"My dear," he whispered, "I had no idea that the ice princess I met eight years ago could melt into such sensual heat." His breath slid across her ear. "Tell me, does your precious G-man really fire your blood that much, or will any man's touch do the trick? Perhaps I used the wrong tactic during our interview so long ago."
Elizabeth allowed the anger to blot out the sick feeling she'd been fighting, and she turned her head until she stared him straight in the eye. "You don't know the first thing about what fires my blood," she ground out, "or any other woman's, for that matter."
Graham stepped back around in front of her, his eyes sparked with anticipation. "We'll see about that," he hissed. "And your lover will have a front-row seat, courtesy of the lovely little camera in the pin on your blazer."
Her head snapped around to where he pointed; her blazer was neatly on a hanger, hung where the camera would provide a full-length view of anything that transpired.
Graham's smile was terrifying. "I had planned to provide the FBI with a full video diary of what we are about to share," he said, "but now I don't have to. And real-time is so much more satisfying."
Elizabeth's heart sank. A camera? she thought silently. Why didn't you tell me, Myles? All you said was it had a tracking device. I would have warned you— now he has a captive audience, which is just the kind of thing he'd thrive on. I hope you all have a plan in short order.
Graham read the growing fear in her eyes when he pulled her chin back around so she was facing him, and his smile grew wider with each word. "It's only a shame it's video only; he won't be able to hear you scream and beg me for the mercy of killing you."
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Surveillance Van/Task Force
Just around the corner from Sketchbook Publishing
6:15 p.m.
Tara's laptop linked them to the program still running back at the Hoover Building, but their proximity brought the signal in stronger.
"All right," D was saying. "The signal is strong enough to tell us what area of the building she's in, but not which floor. Bobby, I want your team on the second floor. We'll take ground. There is a small basement area, which we'll cover together after the other floors are secured."
He looked around at the group, about twenty strong besides the core team. "Be very quiet. We don't want to spook this guy before we have a chance to nail him, because he will kill the lady quickly if he feels he has to."
Somber heads nodded all around, and D turned to Jack. "You're our backup, just in case he somehow gets past us. I don't think he'll bother moving her again, but I want that base covered anyway."
The teams moved in, and Jack stepped back into the surveillance van where Sue, Tara and Myles were waiting. Tara had just tuned in the camera unit, and was waiting for the reception to settle.
Sue was settling into what they'd come to recognize as her "watcher mode." Her concentration would be on the video screen, so they'd have to make an extra effort to get her attention. She turned now as Myles touched her arm.
His eyes were grave as he looked at her directly. "Sue, you probably already know this, but… this isn't going to be pretty. Graham's set on getting deep into Elizabeth's head, and if you're reading him… Are you sure you're going to be ok?"
Sue nodded slowly. "I'll be fine, Myles. I need to do this. She's my friend, too."
"What the—?" Tara's voice caught Myles' attention, and he motioned Sue around as well.
"What is it, Tara?" Jack was asking.
"The camera angle… it's covering the whole room, as if…" Suddenly, her eyes widened as they watched Graham point directly at the camera. "Oh, no. She's not wearing the blazer. It's—"
Sue's eyes were immediately on him. "He's saying, 'your lover will have a front-row seat…' He knows the camera is there."
Jack turned away for a moment, speaking to D and Bobby over the radio, advising them of the development and suggesting further caution. The rest watched helplessly as Elizabeth's head snapped around in shock, and her dismay was clear.
"You didn't tell her about the camera?" Tara asked.
"I thought it would only stress her out more." His tone relayed his regret.
Sue's translation echoed against the van walls. "'I planned to provide the…FBI…with a video diary…of what we are about to share…but now I don't have to.'" She shivered. "He says real-time is much more satisfying."
There was a pause as Graham jerked Elizabeth's face back around to him, then Sue continued. "He's saying its too bad the camera is video only… he—" She stopped abruptly and shot a glance at Myles, then looked back at the screen, suddenly quiet.
"Sue?" The blond agent reached over and squeezed her arm. It took a moment, but she finally looked up at him, and he read the horror in her eyes. "What did he just say? All I caught, I think, was the word beg. What did he say to her?"
The blue-grey flame she saw gave her the strength to answer him, as much as she didn't want to. "He said it was a shame you won't be able to hear her scream or beg him to kill her."
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"You're wasting your time if you think you're going to be torturing Myles with this." Elizabeth tried to keep her voice steady. "As soon as the FBI found out you were after me, he was taken off the case. Conflict of interest. He won't be anywherenear the monitor for that camera."
It was a lie; she knew perfectly well that Jack Hudson would want to keep Myles close by, just to keep an eye on him. Wherever they were, Myles would be with them, just as an observer. I can't let Graham know that; I have to be strong. For Myles, for myself. I can't let him see my fear.
"Then his friends can fill him in later." When she didn't reply, his laugh chilled her anew; but this time she glared at him with ice-cold defiant eyes.
"Oh, so now you're going to play tough, is that it?" said Graham in a mocking tone. "You have no idea how long I've waited to psychoanalyze you. I finally have my chance." The look on his face sent chills down her spine, but she wouldn't let her own expression betray her.
"You do know you brought this on yourself?" said Graham, clearly enjoying himself. "Oh, yes. If you hadn't told them I wasn't crazy, you wouldn't be here now."
"You weren't crazy. You aren't now. You killed your wife in cold blood. If—"
The flat of his hand ripped across her face again, in almost the same spot as before. "I'd keep your mouth shut, if I were you," he said coldly. "You cost me eight years in solitude from any woman, and you are about to repay that debt personally before you die. But it wouldn't be polite to take what I want without some semblance of propriety, now, would it? We must take these things slowly."
He leaned close to her and placed his hand gently behind her head, tangling his fingers in her hair. She turned her head away sharply, unable to bear the thought of kissing him. At that, he roughly pulled her hair so she faced him, and forced his lips onto hers. His other hand pushed up under her blouse, stroking, kneading sensitive areas, but there was nothing tender in his touch. His purpose was control, domination, and it made her sick.
His passion wasn't returned. For a moment she automatically imagined it was someone else's hands on her, then she stopped. No, she thought. I will not equate him with Myles, because Myles would never do this to me. I will need Myles' touch later, to wipe all this away. She endured Graham's touch dispassionately, giving him no reaction at all. She was fervently glad, however, that Graham's right hand was not visible from the camera.
He stopped abruptly in disgust and glared at her. "I'd thought you'd be much sweeter. I think I'll actually be doing Agent Leland a favor by freeing him of you."
"You don't know a thing about Agent Leland." She glared right back at him. "Let's just leave him out of this."
"You know, you remind me of the late Mrs. Graham. Such a tragedy. She too, had submission problems; too free-spirited, like yourself. Free spirits require… taming," he said, giving her another assessing look. "But those other girls, they were innocent. You caused their deaths…"
"No!" It came out with every ounce of certainty she'd gained earlier when she battled with this very thought. "I caused none of this. This is your doing, Evan, not mine."
He smiled again, and it unnerved her that none of this seemed to be affecting him at all. "So it is. And all of it is for you, dear doctor. Every step I've taken, every life snuffed out, has been for you alone. Eight lives, four cities, a trail of blood spanning your whole life…" His voice dropped to a whisper again, and his lips brushed her left cheek. "Elizabeth."
She shuddered at his use of her given name, and her loathing for him and the whole situation grew with each word he uttered next.
"That's all he ever calls you, isn't it? Your precious G-man. An elegant name, I must admit. So refined, so genteel…and so very sensual across the lips. E-liz-a-beth." He pulled back to stare deep into her eyes, and smiled as her face paled a shade or two. "Tell me, does he whisper it in your ear when you tremble beneath him? Does he gasp it in the heat of climax? Is it on his lips when—"
"STOP IT!" Her control broke, and it came tumbling out before she had a chance to think. "How dare you! Myles and I have never… we're not…"
Too late she realized her mistake, and she watched in despair as his smile took on a truly delighted quality. "Such a wonderful revelation," he purred. Then his eyes moved to speak directly to the camera. "Tell him for me, agents. I get her first…and last."
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Although his eyes never left the screen, he knew she was having a difficult time. He could hear it in her voice, could almost feel her shaking in the close confines of the van. But her eyes never wavered, and the realization of the lengths she would go to for a friend— no, for any victim— made Myles long to take back every disparaging comment he'd ever made to or about her. She shared his passion for justice and to make things come out right, and he'd shut out every opportunity he'd had to grant her place on the their team.
Suddenly, the conversation they were observing took a much more personal note. He wasn't sure how it was happening, but he could pick out the gist of the dialogue almost before Sue translated.
Graham's little overture toward Elizabeth had sickened and enraged him, particularly since he had a fair idea of what the man's right hand was doing, even if it wasn't visible, but he'd kept his cool. Now, he felt pure fury radiating from the gentle lady beside him, fury he hadn't experienced even during their "disagreement" over the Brian Guthrie issue.
Sue's voice was low as she spoke. "'Eight lives, four cities, a trail of blood spanning your whole life…Elizabeth.'"
Not one of them missed the look on Graham's face as he whispered in the psychologist's ear. Jack shifted angrily in his seat, and Tara's eyes were wide and frightened for her friend.
Sue continued, her voice shaking a bit now. "'That's all he ever calls you, isn't it? Your precious G-man. An elegant name, I must admit. So refined, so genteel…and so very sensual across the lips. E-liz-a-beth. Tell me, does he whisper it in your ear when—'"
In a flash, Myles knew where Graham was about to go with his horrific comments, and the thought of Sue being dragged through it along with Elizabeth was too much. She jumped as his hand covered her eyes and turned her away from the screen; then her own hand ripped his away as she glared at him. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Sue, enough," he replied. "It's bad enough Elizabeth has to endure this. You shouldn't have to endure it as well."
She blinked at him, but her voice was steady. "I appreciate that, but I can't just—"
"Guys?" The tension in Tara's voice drew him back, and he brought Sue with him, refocusing their attention on the screen just in time to see Elizabeth screaming something at Graham, her hands jerking against the handcuffs in her anger.
Sue's eyes narrowed. "Something like...'Myles and I have never...we not..."
"Uh-oh." It came from Jack and Myles in unison, but it was Jack who continued immediately into the radio. "Bobby, D...best shift into high gear. We're running out of time."
Sue's voice shook as she delivered Graham's message. "'Tell him for me, agents. I get her first…and last.'" She turned and placed a hand on Myles' arm, aching at the pale shock she saw as he realized exactly what Evan Graham planned to play out in front of their eyes. "Not if we have anything to say about it."
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"Only one problem, mate." Bobby replied into his radio as D and his team met them at the stairwell. "There's nothing here."
"What do you mean, nothing? You should be less than fifteen feet from them."
"He's right, Jack," Dimitrius added. "There's no doorway, no stair access… nothing but a blank wall. From the specs there's a room here, but no way to access it."
Jack sighed heavily and looked at the monitor. Both Elizabeth and Graham were looking around as if they heard voices. Graham's smile got even wider, even as Elizabeth's expression flashed with hope. "Bobby, they can hear you. You guys are right on top of them."
"Then there has to be another way in."
Tara was poring over the map of utility tunnels they'd secured after Graham's escape from the clinic. "Jack, there's no access into Sketchbook from the utility tunnels except one, and it's at the other end of the basement."
"I'm telling you, this is a fully solid wall," Bobby replied. "Studs, drywall, plastered…it's one piece."
"Well, I don't believe this nut is a magician," Jack said, frustration edging his voice. So keep looking."
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The Aussie accent had never sounded so wonderful. Elizabeth looked around, waiting for a door or a wall to burst open.
Graham was chuckling as he listened. "So perfect. They can all listen from just a few feet away, completely helpless as you scream."
She'd had enough. The fear was gone, leaving only anger and cold resolve. If she was going to die, it certainly wasn't going to be after satisfying whatever perverted fantasies Evan Graham had planned. Myles, my love, she thought, reaching out however she could and hoping he would understand, I'll not let him take what I would choose to give to you, if I had the chance. Even if he kills me, I will die still yours alone.
Her voice was low but steady. "What makes you think I wouldn't rather goad you into beating me to death before I give you any pleasure?"
He leaned against the wall, surveying her with a smile. "Of course I expect you to do that," he said easily. "But it won't do any good."
So smooth. So unconcerned, even with the FBI not twenty feet away. What's he holding up his sleeve? she thought, a tendril of fear beginning to work its way into her heart again.
Her eyes flickered toward the voices again, wondering why they couldn't find her. What's wrong? They have the tracker, the camera… The thought trailed off as she remembered something Graham had said. He said it was a shame the camera was video-only; that means…Sue! The handcuffs were tight; she couldn't sign, but she could still fingerspell. I have to get him to tell me how they can find us…
He was back at her side now. "Would you like to know why all your loathing will do no good, why even if you are bruised and bleeding you will still scream for me?" He stroked her cheek, and it took everything she had to not turn away.
She took a breath and forced her voice steady. "I think I'd rather know why you're so confident they won't find us. The other…can wait." The next words were like acid over her tongue, but she managed them. "Until I'm sure we won't be interrupted as well."
His eyes narrowed— he knew full well she was mocking him. "All right, then," he murmured, "so you'll be sure as well."
For the first time since she'd been restrained, he stepped around so his back was to the camera. Elizabeth gently flexed her fingers, willing some circulation back into them; she'd expected that he knew someone could figure out at least bits and pieces of what he was saying. What he didn't know was that she could communicate to them without speech.
"I've been rather busy setting up our little nest here," Graham said, his lips back at her ear. "I had plenty of time between the Baltimore girls and now to seal off the access from the office building. There's a whole new unbroken wall there. No one would ever know there had been a door once."
Her fingers moved. O-F-F-I-C-E A-C-C-E-S-S S-E-A-L-E-D.
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"There's got to be a way in there." Jack, Tara and Sue were poring over the map again.
Myles was staring at the monitor, his eyes narrowed. Graham had stepped around so his back was to the camera. Suddenly, the agent grabbed a pen out of his breast pocket and snatched at the legal pad on the counter in front of them. The movement brought heads around.
"Myles?" Jack asked.
The Harvard grad shook his head for a moment, his eyes riveted on the screen and the pen moving on the paper. …F-I-C-E S-C-C-E-A-A A-E-S-L-E-D.
Sue glanced over at the pad. "What's that?"
He pointed at the screen. "Elizabeth. She was just fingerspelling something. I'm sure of it."
Sue looked at what he'd written. "But that doesn't make…" Then she laughed softly. "Switch the S and the A, Myles. See if it makes sense now."
He did so. "…fice access sealed. Office. Graham put that wall up!"
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"There was a utility access door, but I made my own, leading straight into this room. It's not on any map, and I have a few surprises set up for anyone snooping around."
His eyes lit up with almost manic pride. Elizabeth knew she had to hold his attention long enough to get the message across. "That's quite a setup." N-E-W U-T-I-L-I-T-Y A-C-C-E-S-S I-N-T-O T-H-I-S R-O-O-M "I must admit… I never thought anyone would go to such lengths on my account." B-E C-A-R-E-F-U-L. T-R-A-P-S O-F S-O-M-E K-I-N-D S-E-T.
Jack was in his Kevlar before they even finished her message. "Tara, very quietly, tell Bobby to get over here, but leave D and both teams looking. Make sure he's aware we don't want Graham to know we're onto him." He checked the map for the utility tunnel access, then headed out.
Tara spoke into her radio for a moment. Then she sat back. "Now we wait— I never realized how much I hate that word, you know?"
Sue nodded fervently. Myles was staring at the legal pad, his eyes unfocused, deep in thought. In a sudden movement, he was on his feet and across the length of the van.
"Hold it right there." Tara caught his arm. "Where do you think you're going?"
Blue-grey eyes met hers with an intensity that was palpable. "Tara, by the time Bobby gets out here and over to Jack, any number of things could have happened. I'm not letting him go down there by himself."
"Then I'll go. Not you."
He let out a heavy sigh. "Tara, if I'm on that radio, in your place, Garrett will have me for lunch. I'm not going after Graham, I swear. I'm going simply as a backup set of eyes for Jack. My sidearm's locked up there." He motioned to an overhead bin and showed her the empty holster at his hip. He stared her down until she nodded; then he opened the cabinet. "Pete's new toy in here?"
"From R & D? Yeah. He says it's been fully tested. It should be enough for what we've seen here."
"Good. In case I can't avoid Graham, I want the element of surprise. And I can get this set up en route."
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Graham stroked her cheek again, sliding his hand over her face as he stepped around until he was facing the camera again. "Now then… since there's no way we can be interrupted…"
She didn't want to hear it, but she knew she couldn't keep up the pretense; he wasn't buying it anyway. So she went back to telling him exactly what she thought. "You can't possibly think I'd give you the satisfaction of reacting at all to you. I'd rather have you beat me senseless."
"As you wish." His hand swung again, a fist this time, smashing across her jaw. Stars exploded across her vision, and a coppery taste spread over her lips and tongue. Still she made no sound, and he grabbed her chin roughly, leaning in until his lips were just a half-inch away, perpendicular to hers.
"You see, dear doctor," he hissed, his voice the travesty of a caress, "I observed quite a number of, shall we say, very interesting practices during my eight years in prison. Wonderful little scientific discoveries that I couldn't wait to try out on you. One of them involved a very new, very young inmate— a rather sought-after commodity in prison, given the lack of companionship." He leaned closer, the words imprinting on her cheek. "The discovery was this: no matter how much you loathe it, if you are not given the opportunity to escape, and if your 'benefactor' is very patient, your own body will betray you into reacting to… certain stimuli."
Her eyes widened in shock; then a deep, bone-shaking tremble took her. He felt it, and his smile grew sadistically delighted again. "It doesn't matter if you are in pain, or how much you hate me. You will gasp as the pleasure takes you, all the while hating yourself for it, and you will scream. I will take everything that you are, I will totally destroy you. You will beg me to kill you, and then you will die. It is simply a matter of time, my beautiful creature. And we have all the time in the world."
His hand slipped under her shirt again, in the back this time, running his fingers over her skin and pausing over the clasp on her bra. "All the time in the world. And your precious G-man will be too late. But your destruction will be preserved on film forever."
A wave of terror swept over her, and her fingers shook.
P-L-E-A-S-E H-U-R-R-Y.
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Two sets of wide eyes stared at the screen. Sue was shaking; Tara was on the radio, trying to bury the sick feeling in her stomach. "Guys," she said. "Hurry up. Please."