The REAL Truth Behind and Inside the WWE Ring Chapter 7: The Swat Team, a wrestling fanfic

Thanks for the 'many' reviews.

Ok, here is Chapter 7, it's not too great, but never the less, I hope you still enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am poor. And being poor sucks ass.

Flashback:

16th April, 2005, 6.31am Randy Orton's apartment.

"Randy? Are you still here?" Undertaker said sitting up in the bed. With no reply, Undertaker slowly rose from the bed. He opened the bedroom door and peered down the hallway, "Randy? Hello?" Starting to wonder why he got no reply, he started to wander down the hallway in the direction of the front door. "Where on Earth are you?" Suddenly he stopped in his steps. The front door was wide open. Pinned on the door was a small note.

Dear Undertaker,

If you are wondering where poor little Randy is, well, I've taken him.

No, I do not want a ransom. To me, he's completely worthless.

Because I'm a team player and I don't want you to suffer because I have nothing against you, I'll give you 48 hours to find him.

If you do locate him, then he shall go free.

If not, well, I'll release him when he's pay the price.

Ciao,

S…

He couldn't make out the signature at the bottom, apart from the first letter, 'S'.

Taker looked down the hotel hallway but saw nothing that could lead him to Randy. It was time to bring in the big league.

"Hello, yes, I'm reporting a kidnapping…"

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16th April, 2005, 9.14am Randy Orton's apartment.

It had been three hours and the Undertaker and police still had no clue to who took Randy.

In fact, the Undertaker had started to wish he had never got the men in blue involved. They didn't help at all; all they did was interrogate him.

"Where were you at the time of the kidnapping?"

"In bed."

It was on going. Pointless questions that were wasting Randy's 48 hours.

"Does Mr Orton have any enemies, anyone that has sworn revenge on him?"

"Umm," He pondered for a moment and all he could think of was Stacy Keibler, but she wouldn't kidnap someone, would she? The signature could have belonged to her though. Her name did start with an 'S'. "There is one person who has sworn revenge, but I don't honestly believe she could have done it. Her name is Stacy Keibler. She's the only one I believe that has actually vowed vengeance."

"You'd be surprised how many people do things others would dream of them doing." He said almost sympathetically as he walked over to the other men in blue with the suspect's name.

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17th April, 2005, 11.57am Down Town Police Station.

The police had taken the Undertaker in for further questioning about Stacy Keibler and the kidnapping. They had been at it for almost 27 hours, searching for anything that might lead to Orton's kidnapping.

"No criminal record, no finger prints, no contacts. We have no leads to her location Sir. Nothing at all." One of the officers regretfully notified the Sergent, looking down at the ground in shame as if he had failed.

"Ok," He simply said to the man rubbing his swollen and sleep deprived eyes and then turned back to Undertaker sitting on a chair. "So you're telling me Mr Calloway," Taker quivered at his name he hated so, "You have no way of contacting Miss Keibler? She's our only possible suspect, excluding you." The last part of the sentence sounded harsh and cold like an accusation.

"What? You think I kidnapped Randy?"

"I never said that!" Exclaimed the man in defence.

Police physiology.

Making you confess to something you never did.

"What about Orton's phone?" The Undertaker asked.

"What about it?"

"Have you checked that for her number yet? I'm pretty sure she called him a couple days ago on that."

"Excellent thinking Mr Calloway. There's one problem however, we've done that, and Mr Orton does not have Miss Keibler's phone number."

"What about a land line? Maybe she didn't phone him with her mobile?"

The Sargent's eyebrows raised and then returned to their normal state before the man turned around and yelled something to the other officers.

"I like your thinking Mr Calloway."

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17th April, 2005, around 4pm, Unknown location.

'Oh God, my head! What did I do last night?' Randy Orton asked himself, trying to remember what he had done previously as he slowly awoke from his unconscious state due to the chloroform. 'Where the hell on Earth am I?'

He looked around at his surroundings, the fern in the pot, the stain glass windows, the white carpet and light brown walls, Randy Orton couldn't help but feel as if he'd been there before. There was something about his surroundings that gave him a sense of familiarly, but he just couldn't quite put his finger on it, probably because he was all tied up (A/N: that was my lame attempt to make a joke. Get it? He couldn't put his finger on it because he was tied up! Get it? Huh? Do you? Ah, screw it.) 'Hey! What the hell? Why am I tied up? How did I get here?' There were thousands of questions going through Orton's head.

That's when he remembered.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

16th April, 2005, 6.16am Randy Orton's apartment.

As the sun finally started to shine through the delicate white curtains of the small hotel room, Undertaker and Randy were awoken to a consent knocking on the front door that just wouldn't cease.

"Who on Earth could that be at this hour? The sun's barely risen!" Taker exclaimed, taking note of the sun slowly entering through the thin curtains before he rolled over and pulled his feather pillow over his head in an attempt to block out the constant racquet.

"Err, good question!" Randy agreed, yawning and rubbing his eyes as he sat up.

Undertaker squeezed his face from under his pillow which concealed his ears and glanced at the clock, "Great, I'll never be able to get back to sleep. Do you want to get it or shall I because if we leave it any longer, the poor bugger will have no hand left to knock with if he keeps this up," referring to the constant knocking, "and we'll go completely deaf from this on going noise!"

"I'll get it, you stay here, and I'll be back in five and see what they want." Orton said, slowly arising from the main bedroom's double bed, "God, they must be desperate to tell or ask us something." Orton added, rolling his eyes as he exited the main bedroom, closing the door behind him and reluctantly answered the front door.

"This better be good for waking us up at –" his voice was suddenly lost when his eyes met with the people standing outside the hotel room.

There in front of him were two masked men. They both had a black balaclava on, therefore concealing their identity. They were about six foot six, six foot seven, just a bit taller than Randy.

Looking at the two, Randy couldn't help but instinctively say "What the h –" but before Orton could finish his 'instinctive phrase', the masked men reached into the door way, grabbing Orton and pulled him into the hotel hall way. Before Randy could fight back or even scream for help or assistance, one of the large men had a cloth with several stains over Randy's nose and mouth. The cloth was moist and had a strong scent of Chloroform.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

17th April, 2005, around 4pm, Unknown location.

'And so now I'm here. That still doesn't exactly help in solving the questions of where and why I'm here' Randy Orton thought. He looked again around the room for any clues determining where he was. He eyed off everything a lot more carefully this time. His eyes travelled from the pot plant, to the pictures on the walls, to the floor, when all of a sudden he noticed something on the carpet. Shadows. Moving shadows that could belong only to two people. Orton kept as quite as a mouse and tried to listen to see if he could hear anything. At first all he could hear were muffled whispers, but slowly, they became clear. He could now hear everything normally. No, Randy's hearing wasn't getting better. The shadows on the floor were also increasing in size. The people were coming closer to Orton.

"Do you think he's awake yet?"

"How would I know? I'm not physic! That's why we are going to check on him, fool," said an annoyed female voice. "I still can't believe you brought him here to my place! My last words to you were 'Be Creative'. Bringing him here wasn't very creative at all!"

"Yeah, but you also said, and I quote, 'Lure him to my apartment so we can beat the crap out of him or something like that'"

"Yeah, 'or something like that', I wasn't serious about the 'lure him to my apartment' bit." The familiar female voice said.

"Well it was such a good idea so we decided to go through with it. Anyway, before you bring it up, I couldn't take him to my apartment, what would my wife say? She'd think I was having a gay relationship."

"Hmm, that somehow relates to me. A gay relationship. I will never forgive him for that."

'That voice sounds like Stacy,' Orton thought, 'maybe this was how she was going to make me pay? No, why would she kidnap me?' Listening closer to the voices, it finally dawned on him. 'That voice was Stacy.' He was in her apartment. That's why it seemed so familiar. There was only one problem. She had sold this apartment months ago.

All of a sudden, Randy could hear footsteps of the two people talking only a few meters away. They were coming into the room.

Thinking it was probably best to pretend to be still asleep so he could listen to more of their plot; he shut his eyes, and rest his chin on his chest as if he was still knocked out.

Slowly, the people began to enter the room.

"I think he's asleep."

"I'm not waiting any longer for the bum." Stacy impatiently told the other person. She got her hand and slapped Randy hard, over the face. "Wake up idiot," a cold, yet familiar voice that belonged to Stacy hissed.

Thinking it was no longer a good idea to pretend to be asleep, Orton slowly opened his eyes which met with his captor's.

"See? I told you it would work." Smiled Stacy at Randy Orton's other captor.

"Stacy? It is you. What the hell are you doing? Who's that?" Orton exclaimed, referring to his other captor.

"Oh, how rude of me, this is Harry," she said referring to the tall man behind her. Harry must have been a couple inches taller than Randy.

Taking note of his height, Randy quickly jumped to conclusions (which happened to be correct) 'Maybe he was one of the masked men that grabbed me!' he thought.

"Hello there, Mr. Orton. I believe we have already met Stacy." Harry added on.

"Oh yes, Harry here assisted in this mornings," She paused looking for the best word to use, "capture." Sounding as if they had caught a wild animal.

"So this is your plan to make me pay? Kidnap me? Ha, it's pathetic. Don't you think Mark would have called the cops by now? Everyone will be looking for me; don't you think they will look for you too in regards to your threats of making me pay?" Randy asked wearing his World famous, cocky smile.

"Do you think I'm an idiot Mr Orton?" Stacy asked as if she was an officer interrogating someone. "Do you? Don't you think we," referring to Harry, "would have already thought about this? Don't you remember? I sold this apartment a couple of months ago. I sold it to one of my close friends. Not many people know that she was my friend. She is currently overseas for a few weeks and asked if I could look after her place for a while. Obviously I said yes. No one's going to search here; they are not going to search my old apartment, the apartment that I know like the back of my hand. That's why we are doing it here." Stacy evilly laughed.

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17th April, 2005, around 5.02pm, Down Town Police Station.

The police had retrieved 6 unknown numbers from Randy Orton's phone. One by one, they dialled them and asked for Stacy Keibler.

"Hello, is this Stacy Keibler? No? Is there a Stacy Keibler there that I could talk to then? No? Ok, thank you for your time."

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17th April, 2005, around 8.35pm, Stacy Keibler's friend's Apartment.

"Stace, is that the phone?" Asked Harry.

"Yeah, I'll answer it, maybe it's the others." She replied as she walked over to the phone.

"Hello? Yes this is Stacy Keibler. Do I know a Randy Orton? Umm," she started to stumble when they asked her about Randy Orton, "Who is this?" but instead of getting an answer, she heard in the background of the other phone someone saying 'We got a location sir. We'll send swat team now.' Stacy slammed the phone down.

"Who was it Stace?" asked Harry curiously.

"Um, wrong number," she couldn't tell him that it was the cops. He'd bail and leave her to get the whole blame. She wouldn't be able to even finish what she started. 'How did they know this number?' That's when it dawned on her. She had called Randy Orton's cell on the land line because she ran out of credit on her mobile.

With in no time at all, there was someone knocking one the front door.

Not knowing that the cops had phoned earlier and had found out their location, Harry left Randy and walked over to the door to answer it thinking it was the others to help finish the job.

"About time you guys came you lazy – You're not the others," Harry said as he saw the swat team that had been sent over.

One of the swat team members smiled and coolly replied, "No, we're not. We are the swat team sent over to rescue Mr Orton." With that said, the man forcefully shoved open the door and ran inside, followed by the rest of the team. "Ok boys, spilt and search every –" His voice was lost when he saw what was in front of him.

Ha-ha, another Cliff hanger.

Hope you enjoyed Chapter 7.

It's an 8 page 'master piece'.

Once again I haven't really proof read it

So there WILL be a few errors

But you'll survive.

And PLEASE review!

I'm begging you man to review!