The four members of the gang stared at Steve in silence. Again he was tempted to bolt, but could not knowing that Jesse was still upstairs. Max held a gun at him and Greg now held the other gun that had been kept by the person on guard duty.
With a sudden bellow of rage Harley leapt forwards and fell on Steve. He fell sideways off the chair he was sitting on, and Harley landed on top of him, giving him a swift punch in the head and then the stomach, thoroughly winding him. "You devious traitor!" Harley was screaming.
Gasping for breath, Steve was aware of Carter and Max pulling Harley back. "Cool it," Max snapped. "If we get riled we'll make mistakes. Let's put him upstairs and then we can discuss what we're going to do."
Harley nodded, and reached over and grasped the front of Steve's shirt. He yanked hard and Steve scrabbled to get his feet under him to stand upright. He looked into Harley's eye defiantly. Harley gave him a hard shove towards the door. "You've ruined everything! Think of the money you could have had."
"I don't want any money that has been obtained the way you get it," Steve retorted.
Carter opened the door and led the way. The other three followed close behind Steve to make sure he wasn't going to make a dash for it. Outside the room with the padlock and bolts, Carter went to open the door but Max stopped him. "Wait! Empty out your pockets, cop."
Reluctantly, Steve handed over his keys and money he had in his pockets. He had no weapon to surrender but he did have a cell phone in his inside pocket that he was hoping to hang on to. He had no such luck though, as Greg wasn't satisfied with what he gave up. "We know you've got a cell phone. Give it up now or I'll give you a bullet hole in the arm to keep you occupied." He waved his gun threateningly.
Steve hesitated a moment too long. Harley grabbed the back of the jacket and yanked it downwards off his shoulders. Steve had to twist his arms to allow it to come off or he risked having a shoulder dislocated. Harley patted the pockets and triumphantly drew out Steve's cell phone. Max gave Steve a whack around the head with the gun for his resistance. Steve's head was beginning to feel very bruised.
Carter meanwhile had unlocked the door, and he opened it now and someone gave Steve a heavy push through it. He stumbled over the threshold and turned around, anticipating further blows, but the door slammed and he heard the bolts being push shut. With a heavy heart he turned to face Jesse, who was looking at him with wide eyes.
"Steve?" he asked uncertainly.
"My cover's blown," he said, feeling a pang of regret as he saw Jesse's eye was still very swollen.
"Are you okay?" Jesse asked in a concerned voice. "How did they react?"
"Not well," Steve said grimly, going over to Jesse and untying the cords on his wrists.
Jesse looked worried. "You don't look injured. What are they going to do?"
"They haven't injured me yet," Steve said. "Much," he added, as one of the bruises on his head started to throb. "But I'm afraid it's bad news. They broke into the beach house and know exactly who I am, and saw a photo of us and so know that you are my friend."
Jesse pondered this a moment while absently massaging his wrists. "So…?" he prompted, as Steve sank down beside him and leant his head against the wall.
"I'm so sorry Jess," Steve blurted, putting his head in his hands. "I shouldn't have let it get this far. I should have got you out of here as soon as I realised! I should never have endangered your life for the purposes of catching a few crooks."
"Hey," Jesse said seriously. "Don't worry. You didn't know what was going to happen."
"They are going to kill us both," Steve said flatly.
"Oh," Jesse said. "We know too much?"
Steve nodded.
Jesse took a deep breath. "Well, if there was anyone I'd want to share my last moments with, it'd be you." He gave Steve a friendly punch on the shoulder.
Steve smiled. "Thanks." He pulled himself together. "I don't have a clue what they are going to do or we could try and think of a way out of it."
Jesse turned thoughtful. "Let's start at the beginning. Is there anyway we can get out of this room here?"
"No," Steve said with a shake of his head. "We're on an upper floor, no window, and the door is well locked."
"What do you think they might do?" Jesse asked nervously, his worries interrupting his attempts at logical thinking.
"It's the boss who's ordered them to kill us, but I don't think any of them are particularly prone to violence, except maybe Harley. He's the one who attacked you with the rat."
Jesse shuddered. "Don't remind me." He looked down at the dried blood on himself with distaste.
"I don't think any of them has likely killed anyone before," Steve continued. "They've got two guns, so they might take us off somewhere and shoot us. Or they might try and do something less direct, so they don't have to get their hands dirty." He threw up his hands. "Oh, I can't imagine, and to be honest I don't want to. They have imaginative minds, I know that much."
Jesse was quiet, and Steve wondered if he ought to have reassured his friend rather than being frank with him. "Jesse?" he asked.
"I was just thinking about lunches at your place with your father and Amanda, followed by an afternoon riding the waves," Jesse said wistfully.
"We're going to do that again," Steve said emphatically. "We'll get out of this. Don't give up."
"I haven't given up," Jesse assured him. "Just reminiscing. So, do you have a plan yet?" he added teasingly.
"Me?" Steve joked back. "Why is it up to me to come up with a plan? You're the one that's been sitting on your backside for the last couple of days." His voice tailed off as he heard the faint clang of footsteps on the metal staircase. "They are coming back already!" he exclaimed, remembering that Terrell Clark had told them to be quick about it. "Try to overpower them as they come through the door." He grabbed the cord that had bound Jesse's wrists and stood beside the door. Jesse picked up the water jug, and got into position with a determined expression.
The bolts squeaked as they were unfastened and the door swung open. Steve swung his fist at the first person to come through the door, which happened to be Greg, and he went down. Steve landed on his back and got the cord around his neck. Carter, who was following, started towards Steve but Jesse appeared from behind the open door and whacked him hard with the jug. With a yell Carter fell down too but then Max and Harley piled through the door. Max knocked Jesse over and was joined by Carter, who hadn't been hit hard enough to be knocked out. Harley gave Steve a savage kick to the stomach sending him rolling off Greg, who pulled the cord from his neck and gasped for air.
Steve and Jesse struggled but they were each fighting two men. Jesse was soon bound hand and foot. Steve was still managing to keep the ties that Greg was now wielding at bay, but once Jesse was sorted Max and Carter came over and then it was four against one. They sat on Steve and he was unable to breathe as they tied his ankles and wrists together tightly.
The four men stood up, panting, looking down at their captives on the floor. "Tied like pigs for roasting!" Harley exclaimed in delight. "I'm glad you fought, Sloan. Made it more interesting. Stupid though!" He chuckled.
"Concentrate," muttered Max. "Let's get this done with as soon as possible before someone starts wondering why they haven't heard from Sloan in a while."
Steve and Jesse were both picked up, one person holding under each arm, and they were half carried, half dragged out of the room. No effort was made to lift them down the stairs and Steve's ankles banged painfully on each step. He heard Jesse protesting behind him – "Ouch! Watch it!" – and almost smiled; at least his friend hadn't lost his spirit.
They were dragged across the warehouse floor towards the van that had a logo for a window cleaning company on the side. Jesse recognised it as the one he had been duped into climbing into and had been kidnapped in.
Greg and Max dropped Steve roughly onto the concrete floor while they opened the rear doors of the van. They picked Steve up again and literally threw him into the back. His shoulder hit the floor of the van painfully and he slid along and hit his head on the back of the front seats. Jesse was thrown in after him.
The doors of the van were slammed with a crash that made their heads ring. Steve strained his ears to hear the conversation taking place outside as Jesse struggled to get comfortable, which wasn't easy; their arms were forced painfully behind them. Steve made out that only Greg and Harley were going to be driving the van, but Max was going to follow in his car. He heard the main door of the warehouse open up and the men climbed in the front. Greg started the engine, and the van moved off.
