Bye Bye Baby

A/N: I was going to revert back to one chapter a day today but your kind reviews have touched me so much I have decided to continue the double posts for the weekend ... Have a great weekend guys! :-D

Chapter 8

The rest of Steve's journey was spent in great discomfort, his leg throbbing badly and although the bleed seemed to be light, Steve could feel it trickling down his leg and wetting his sock disturbingly. The psychological part though was almost worse. Knowing that the knife was visibly embedded in his leg made it difficult to try to forget about and being pinned so tightly between the two henchmen meant that every time Brigitte wriggled, keeping her from touching off the knife was proving an impossible task. And unfortunately the baby was wriggling A LOT! She had obviously started to pick up on Steve's discomfort and anxiety and every time she touched off the knife, Steve felt a biting pain in his left thigh. He was trying to ignore the constant torture but it was proving difficult and his stomach was churning from the nausea that was building. As the baby hit off the knife for the umpteenth time, Dmitriy's laugh pierced the air followed by his deep heartless voice.

"What's the matter pretty boy, eh? You look a little green around the gills ... You going to throw up, eh?"

Steve bit back the pain and turned to glare at his tormentor. In a voice equaling his captor's he spat out coldly.

"Well if I do ... I'll be sure to turn in your direction first ..."

Dmitriy's smile faded quickly and as anger lit up his face he gripped Steve's afflicted knee viciously causing the knife to move ever so slightly and a new trickle of blood to escape. Steve fought back the scream of pain the Russian's actions had caused and stayed staring hatefully at him, hoping beyond hope that before this night finished he would at least get a chance to extract some minute revenge on this lowlife for all the pain he had taken great pleasure in inflicting on him so far. As Dmitriy saw Steve's defiant look he began to squeeze harder but was stopped by Damacov's voice that roared loudly.

"DMITRIY! Let go of his leg ... NOW! "

The henchman stopped immediately and let go of Steve's knee but he looked visibly displeased by the order. However Steve could tell by his demeanor that the Russian man knew better than to disobey it. Steve closed his eyes as the pain temporarily increased and then slowly ebbed, but he heard Damacov's voice lower and speak more calmly to Dmitriy.

"Dmitriy, you must not let the American get to you. He is ... toying with you ... We need him for now and so you must hold your temper. Your time will come to extract revenge on him but for now I do not want him bleeding out any quicker. Look,* Tovarich at what your lack of control has done?"

At those words Steve opened his eyes again and saw the increased amount of blood now seeping into the trouser material around the buried knife and felt lightheaded as a consequence.

"Remove his tie and tie off the top of his leg with it. We need him to remain conscious ..."

Dmitriy looked remorsefully at his Boss knowing that the older man was indeed right and that he had let the Cop get the better of him, before turning and grabbing Steve's tie roughly. He looked with hatred in his eyes at the young Inspector but instead of loosening the tie the henchmen tightened it in one fluid movement cutting off Steve's air supply suddenly and alarmingly. His grip tightened around the baby as he once more feared the worst. As a choking sound left Steve's lips, Damacov yelled loudly again.

"DMITRIY! ENOUGH I SAID! RELEASE HIM!"

Dmitriy quickly loosened it as Steve gasped for air and then with an evil smirk on his face he spoke back to his Boss.

"Sorry Boss ... a simple mistake ... "

As Steve regained his breath and glared angrily at the Russian, Dmitriy then undid the tie and passing it under Steve's leg unnervingly he then tied it roughly around his upper thigh reveling in the discomfort he was causing his prisoner as Damacov spoke again.

"Mr. Keller ... While I have to admit I admire your courage in this situation, I must urge you to reconsider annoying Dmitriy. He has killed many people and has a distinct lack of affection for law enforcement officers such as yourself. It would be in your best interests to cooperate instead of making your last hours even more unpleasant than they shall be ..."

Brigitte whimpered and Steve hugged her comfortingly to his chest as he refocused his attention on where they were heading instead. The fact that they had not concealed their destination to him by way of a blindfold was another ominous indication that they had no intention of letting him live to tell anyone where he had been taken. He noticed the car enter the Embarcadero and head towards the piers. Before long they pulled up outside an old disused looking and ramshackled warehouse building. Mikhail got out first and pulled Steve with him roughly out the back door. Standing on his injured leg proved painful but manageable however he shifted most of his weight onto his other leg to ease the discomfort. As Dmitriy got out and came around to stand beside him, Steve couldn't help the wicked thought that came into his head. Turning visibly towards Dmitriy as Damacov and the driver joined them he made quick heaving sounds and spoke in a distressful tone.

"Oh God ... I think I'm going ... to be ..."

As he made a pretend retching sound, Dmitriy jumped back away from the young man as Steve quickly straightened back up smiling from ear to ear at the horrified expression on the Russian's face as he spoke more normally.

"Oops! False alarm ..."

Damacov and the other two men laughed at the humor but Dmitriy did not. Instead his face turned to one of anger as he stormed towards Steve only to be stopped by the outstretched hand of Damacov.

"DMITRIY ... Let him have his fun while he can ... His fun will soon be over ... Go check on the news so far. NOW TOVARICH! "

Dmitriy scowled once more in Steve's direction before storming off in the direction of the building. Then Damacov turned and walked right up so he was face to face with Steve. The older man had a very frightening and unsettling presence about him and despite his bravado only minutes before, something about this guy unnerved Steve to his very core. He bravely didn't back away but inside his heart was racing as Damacov spoke.

"You know Keller. You have a lot of courage. I have yet to decide if it is admirable or perhaps stupid but it is a trait that I find laudable none the less and also faced with certain death I find it to be a very rare commodity these days. Therefore I will actually be sorry to see you die Keller but die you must. Nothing personal you understand? Just business that needs taking care of ... Now, after you Mr. Keller. We will show you hospitably to your new accommodation. I am sure you will find it most charming ..."

Steve didn't like the sound of that statement but didn't have much choice but to limp his way in the direction the Makarov pistols were pointing in as Damacov and his henchmen took up the rear.

As they neared the warehouse door, the second car pulled up and the other two hired muscle and the girl from Mike's house exited and joined them. She looked increasingly uncomfortable with the whole situation and again looked decidedly remorsefully in Steve and Brigitte's direction. Together all of them entered the drab building and Steve was roughly, practically dragged up four flights of darkened stairs, lit only by the faint green illumination of emergency lighting. It took all his effort to keep Brigitte protected from the callous ascent as he temporarily ignored his own discomfort in his focused attempt to keep her unharmed. Arriving onto a long corridor, the floor strewn with debris, Steve was again urged ahead down it, his eyes trying desperately to adjust to his darkened surroundings. The air was stale and oppressive and freezing cold with an almost damp feel about it. Steve visibly shivered and he wasn't sure if it was from the blood loss he had sustained, his increasing anxiety at his current hopeless predicament or from the actual chill in the air. As the henchman leading him went to open a side door off the corridor, Damacov's voice once more halted their progress.

"No, Tovarich. Not that one ... The next one down ..."

"But Boss ... That is ..."

"I am well aware what it is Mikhail ... I think it will be a more conducive environment in helping the young Inspector reveal what he knows to us. "

Steve was shoved to the next door and as the door opened an unmerciful odor pervaded from it as Steve was shoved inside. The smell was over powering and instantly made Steve retch. He turned around as quickly as he could in his incapacitated state but the door was closed heartlessly behind him as he heard Damacov's voice through the door as he also heard the key turn in the lock.

"I will let you get accustomed to your new accommodation and we will be back to speak with you shortly."

Then he heard the maniacal laugh again as he heard the footsteps heading away. He banged on the door with a fisted hand and yelled as loud as he could despite the sickening stench surrounding him.

"DAMACOV! Please don't leave the baby in here! DAMACOV?"

No answer came and so he pulled his jacket across her to try and protect her from the stench as he retched several more times. The room was pitch dark apart from a small amount of light streaming in through a small window across the room and he decided to head towards it. Perhaps if he could get it open he might be able to get some more breathable air for him and Brigitte while they awaited their grim fate. He retched again violently even more glad now that his stomach was empty as bile rose and burned the back of his throat. It was a smell he recognized from his job in Homicide but hoped beyond hope that he was wrong. It was the unmistakable smell of decomposing flesh and he shivered again at the thought that he was possibly now sharing the room with the body he had assumed had been removed from the alleyway of his crime scene. He was suddenly glad that it was dark and that he didn't have the sight to contend with as well as the smell and started limping painfully slowly forwards in the darkened room.

There was rubble and scattered stuff on the floor beneath his feet and he struggled to keep his footing as tenuous as it was to begin with, without the added obstacles he was encountering along the way. He focused his gaze straight ahead at the window in the dark and concentrated on keeping a strong hold on Brigitte and keeping himself upright, only pausing every so often to retch from the overpowering stench and cringing inwardly at what he could possibly be stepping on. He finally made it to the small six paned window and as he did he turned his head away from the baby as he spat up a mouthful of bile onto the floor to his left. He noticed that while still bad the stench was not as strong over this side as it was from the other and hoped that he had at least managed to put some small distance between them and the dead body. Although in the dark the dimensions of their new prison were hard to make out, Steve figured it was a fairly large area.

The light from the window was minimal as it was night outside and the moon had disappeared behind some clouds and either way the glass was covered with thick grime. What little light made its way through, barely illuminated just a thin portion of floor around them and debris and dust was evident in the faint glow. He reached up to try and open the window but it seemed to be rusted shut and so he knew he would have to break the glass to get any air through it at all and in order to break it he was going to have to root around on the floor for something to break it with. That prospect didn't fill him with any great joy as he feared what a darkened search on the floor would possibly reveal.

Carefully letting the injured leg slide straight out on the floor ahead of him he bent his other knee until he was in reach of the floor. Cradling Brigitte in one hand, he felt down around him with the other. Dust and what felt like metal shavings came under his fingertips, as he searched around. Every time his fingers touched something cold he pulled them back instinctively but thankfully nothing resembling a dead body revealed itself to him. The final stone cold object he flinched from seemed long and metallic and he pulled it towards him to reveal a metal bar about two foot long. He finally allowed himself a brief hopeful smile as he knew it would do the job nicely and perhaps he could even use it as a defensive weapon if necessary later when Damacov came back to pay a visit although realistically he knew it was no match for a Makarov pistol.

Retching again as the stench seemed to intensify at floor level, he pulled himself back upright. Then he very awkwardly removed his jacket. He marveled at how such a simple task could become so much more difficult to achieve while holding a baby at the same time. With the jacket removed he shivered from the cold and then covered the baby with it while he turned her away from the impact and smashed at the glass with the bar in his right hand. The bottom two panes shattered easily and Steve felt the fresh night air rush in past him. With the jacket still covering Brigitte he turned back so that the fresh air could fill their lungs instead of the toxic odor that had been doing that job moments earlier but then realized how cold the night air actually was.

He frowned as he realized that having got them fresh air to breathe he had also succeeded in exposing them both to the freezing cold sea breeze that was now blowing forcefully through the newly broken window. He felt Brigitte's tiny hand and she felt cold to the wrapped her tighter in the jacket and pulled her close to him in the hope that he could keep her from getting chilled but his own teeth started to chatter instead now that he was in a light shirt. He peered out the broken window and saw at least a forty foot sheer drop down below. They wouldn't be escaping that way, that was for sure. He longed for just a chair that he could sit down on to take some of the pressure off his wounded thigh but there was no way he was searching the darkened room for anything else so he leaned back against the wall by the window instead and found himself praying that Mike wouldn't take too long to find them.

As he rested there in silence he heard a distinct noise that sent a shiver up his back. A shuffling and squeaking sound coming from the other side of the room. RATS!

"Great! Just great." he thought to himself. "That's just about all I need ..."I HATE rats!"

Across town outside the Golden Gate Park on Stanyan Street approx. 12:45am :

Mike pulled up behind the green LTD belonging to Norm Haseejian and Bill Tanner. Exiting quickly he made his way to the two men who had been waiting for him.

"Well you guys got here fast."

"Norm was driving Mike. Need I say anything else?" Bill stated in a teasing tone.

"No, that explains it ..." Mike chuckled back knowing how fast a driver Haseejian could be.

"I put a black and white at 19th Avenue in case we need them Mike and Jefferson and Pearce are here to assist us. Dan is heading over to the Mission Hostel. Do we know where we're looking or have we to do a full Park sweep? Because if we do we're going to need to call in more man power." Norm stated ignoring his colleagues' earlier jibes about his driving skills.

"Good work Norm. No, we're heading for Stow Lake so the five of us should suffice but we need to hurry. I don't know how much of a head start they have on us. Let's go."

Getting back into their cars they drove quickly into the Park heading for the lake, Mike's car as the lead one with Norm's and the black and white just behind. As they drove onto Stow Lake drive and got within a short distance of the lake and the storage shed became just visible over on the right, Mike pulled in and signaled for the others to do the same. Exiting the cars and grabbing flashlights the four officers surrounded Mike awaiting further instructions. Mike sent the two uniformed officers off with Bill towards the rear of the shed while Mike and Norm headed down towards Stow lake towards the front of the shed moving stealthily as they did under the cover of relative darkness. The abandoned storage shed came into sight and Mike held up a hand to halt their progress as he spotted a silver sedan parked off to the left.

"Dear God Norm. I hope we're not too late ... Come on. HURRY!"

A/N: * Tovarich is a phrase used in the Soviet Union as a term for comrade for those of you who may not have heard of it before.