Warren put aside the book he pilfered from the wall shelf as a bad job. He debated digging around for Order of the Phoenix but that would mean going up to Will's room -- the unmade bed, clothes haphazardly tossed on the floor – he just didn't need that right now.

So far his stimulating activities had been speaking to his mother and Zach, raiding the Stronghold fridge (leftover Olive Garden), and surfing the net. He had CNN on mute.

He was proud of himself. He hadn't flamed once. Considering the combination of fear, frustration, and boredom twisting his insides, it was fortunate the Stronghold's living room furniture hadn't been reduced to kindling.

Outside the sun was rising. There was a crispness in the air; a light pink glow illuminated the east horizon.

Layla would be getting up about this time. She'd pull her hair back, dress in loose fitting clothes, and leave the house armed with a plastic watering can. The city flowerbeds she tended were magnificent.

To get Will out of bed at this hour would require brute force.

A thought, unlooked for, despondent; was this the first sunrise after Will's death?

He shoved his hands through his long hair. Thinking like that was the fast track to hell.

Will was far too valuable to kill.

He pushed aside a window curtain.

He wondered if Will knew it was sunrise.

SkyHigh SkyHigh SkyHigh Sky

Layla felt as if she was swimming through molasses. Her throat was parched. It was cold. She snuggled deeper into a blanket. Why was it so cold? It was June.

It wasn't supposed to be this cold in June.

Somebody was calling her name. The voice was familiar. She forced her eyes opened. Will leaned down and kissed her full on the lips. Even after the kiss ended, he still looked wretched.

The surroundings crashed around Layla. Her eyes opened wider in almost Will-like fashion.

"This place is right out of Better Prisons and Gallows," he joked.

Layla made herself respond. It was either laugh or shriek. "You think so? Everybody knows the clean, metal look is all the rage. And without bars, it couldn't even qualify as retro."

"And what about the lack of dripping water. That's a disgrace. If Mom was hear she'd draft a letter of complaint."

The walls did look dry. Layla's heart sank. Water tended to lead to vegetation. She fought down a stab of hysteria. Freaking out wasn't going to help. Will rubbed her shoulders.

Layla noticed a dark stain on her sleeve. She fingered it, then looked down at her chest. The beautiful apple green top was also stained with blood.

"You've got a little blood on your face," Will told her. "You must have had a nose bleed."

"What is the last thing you remember?" Layla asked him.

"Thinking I was finally going to get laid," he sounded rueful. "I think the wine was spiked. I woke up here a couple hours ago. I haven't seen anybody. Layla, you know things look bad for your aunt."

Layla looked uncertain. "But why?"

"You said she had money problems."

"Lot's of people have money problems, Will. She's my mother's sister." Layla was torn between defending Aunt Miranda and admitting Will had a point. She decided to not deal with it right now. "I guess it would be too much to wish they'd grabbed our shoes," Layla wiggled her bare toes. "Any idea where we are?"

"I think underground. I guess in a couple hours they'll want me to talk to Dad. We'll probably be rescued by Commander and Jetstream in full battle mode in twelve hours. This place will a nothing compared to dealing with my parents over this." If he said it often enough, maybe he'd believe it.

She tugged one of the blankets around her shoulders. Her lower lip started to tremble.

"Do you want some water? Or wash your face. There's a sink behind the stall."

Layla got carefully to her feet. She felt a little dizzy. The concrete floor bit painfully into her bare soles. She stepped over a metal chain. It ran from Will's ankle to the wall. It was definitely the most high tech thing in the room. The metal gleamed with a blue tint. Probably reinforced titanium. This abduction was expensive. The wall bracket was a combination of what looked to be plastic (but certainly wasn't) and more blue tinted bolts. The skin around the bracelet was ugly. She glared at Will.

"It won't budge."

"Give me your hands." Will ignored her so she grabbed at his wrist. He scowled but gave in. His palm was raw and spotted with blood.

"Did you have to bludgeon yourself to find that out?"

"You don't understand," he nearly yelled. "I wake up here, chained to the floor. You're wearing sexy nightclothes and I can't wake you up. I have super strength." He pulled futilely on the chain. "This isn't suppose to be happening."

Layla went over to the sink. It was primitive, but functional. She greedily gulped the cold water and washed off her face and hands. She wiped her hands on her pants. She gathered up a pile of toilet paper, wetted it and went back to Will. She cleaned off the blood as well as she could from his ankle.

"Give me your hands."

Looking like a little boy being reprimanded for being naughty, Will crawled over to her. She wiped off his hands then kissed his palm.

"Have you tried yelling? It would be less destructive. Maybe somebody will come and tell us something?"

"No." Will didn't want to say that the last thing he wanted was some thug or supervillain seeing him weak, and Layla unconscious.

Layla tossed the wet tissue paper away and, ignoring the pins and needles coming from her feet, went to stand next to one of the four walls. Obviously, they didn't think she was worth pricey metal restraints. Typical male chauvinists. She spent the next hour examining every inch of the wall. She was looking for any water or crack that she could exploit.

She found nothing. Dejectedly, she dropped back down next to Will.

"So what now?" she asked.

"We wait."

SkyHigh SkyHigh SkyHigh SkyHigh SkyHigh

Josie Stronghold dropped a couple of ice cubes into her coffee so she could gulp it down. It was all about the caffeine. She wandered down the dark corridor to get away from the noise. There were maybe a hundred people on the main security floor working on finding her son.

She would catch them looking at her surreptitiously. Some looked at her with pity, others awe. Some were high on the adrenaline of the event. A few gleamed with a political eye; careers had been made from less than this.

The worst were the shiny button crowd. A good dozen high officers had rushed in as soon as they'd heard.

She hated them most of all. Her personal pain was being made into a sideshow.

She'd nearly lost it when Steve told her the President was on the phone for her. She spent five minutes listening to his trite platitudes and victory by slogan attitude before ending the call.

A sharp wail rang out, the unmistakable sound of grief. A terrible, cold horror filled her. Her complexion went as white as salt.

"Oh God," the coffee cup dropped from her nerveless fingers. She ran down the hall to find Natalie Williams gasping and sobbing on her husband's shoulders.

"Mrs. Stronghold, do not be alarmed," Stark had run to intercept her. "We don't have any news about your son or Ms. Williams," he assured her.

"What is going on?" Get a hold of yourself. You cannot panic.

"There has been a distressing development. I had to tell Mrs. Williams that her sister was found dead in Germany just under half an hour ago."

Her relief was bitter. "How, what happened?" Josie asked.

"She was strangled. We are investigating the matter fully. I have suspected for some time that Mrs. Williams's sister had some knowledge of this matter. Her coming to town suddenly, spending time with her niece, then leaving just as quickly. It was suspicious under the circumstances. I have sent a team to the Maxville Regency. I understand that is where Ms. Hopkins spent her last night in the city. Two teams have been dispatched within a five-mile radius of the hotel. I believe this is our first break in the investigation.

Josie blinked. "Good. I'm going to see Nat." Her daughter was missing and now her younger sister was dead.

"Lieutenant," Steve turned Natalie over to his wife and signaled for Stark to follow him.

"If someone wanted to lure my son into a trap, a very effective way to do it would be to offer him a hotel room for several hours.

No kidding. "That thought had occurred to me. Mr. Stronghold, I wanted to discuss a few issues with you. We've reconnected all phone calls to your home to be transferred here. I expect the kidnappers will contact us within a few hours. Keep them talking as long as possible. I will be listening when they call. Do not give them an ultimatum."

"I know the drill."

"No you don't. Not for your son you don't. His abduction will not be reported on civilian news channels. It is being handled entirely in-house. Were you planning on calling your father?"

Steve hadn't even given Dad a thought.

"He will certainly hear about it through the grapevine." Stark warned him.

"You're right. I'll call him in a few hours, my family in California too. Some friends of ours," Steve tried to gather his thoughts. "I'd rather they hear from me what's going on. Not that's there's much to tell," he tried not to sound bitter.

"And your wife's family? Since she's first generation, it could be kept from them if she wanted."

"Josie is not really close to her family. Her mother died to cancer several years ago and her only sister was killed during Barron Battle's rampage through downtown Maxville. Her brother spends six months of the year on an oil refinery platform. We had to have her Dad's memory altered? He thinks we're just realtors."

Stark was intrigued. Altering a citizen's memory was last resort. "He was threatening to go public?" he asked.

Steve nodded. "It was a very hard decision. Joe was . . . he's not a bad guy but he's old school. Josie was suppose to get married, preferably another Italian-American, and have babies. She's not going to want to call him."

One of Stark's people came up and whispered in his ear. "It's her decision. I'll send someone over with a phone. If you will excuse me?" he hurried away.

Steve was lost in his own thoughts. His son was in the power of murderers. Stark could talk all he wanted about ultimatums but he was going to let these assholes know whom they were dealing with.