Charlie was asleep when Jeff came down to the basement again. At least, Frank hoped he was just sleeping; maybe the professor was unconscious, again. Frank was afraid to move, talk, or do anything. He watched Jeff's approach warily, soon spying a second set of legs on the stairs. Before he could quite register what was happening, Jeff was leaning against the staircase railing, laughing quietly, and the second individual had passed him, and stood leering down at the two hostages.
"Hello, Frank," the man said coldly. "Remember me?"
Frank's mouth dropped open in shock. Jason. The guard who had befriended him the first time he was kidnapped, the one Frank had witnessed being killed in cold blood. What the hell was happening? Frank tried to speak, but no sound came out of his mouth. Without even realizing he was doing it, he started poking Charlie in the ribs. Apparently, the stress had finally gotten to him, and he had lost his mind.
Jason chuckled at his dismay, and kicked almost casually at him. "You know," he shared, almost conversationally, "Benny always did say you were worthless." His mouth twisted in an ugly grimace. "Except, of course, for some things. The occasional entertainment option for a bored soldier. He never did like you."
Frank still couldn't speak, but managed to exhale a snort. No shit, he thought, poking Charlie a little harder.
Jason crossed his arms over his chest and kept talking. "You may have noticed," he said, "that I'm not really dead. I, in fact, am quite alive and well." He stopped, smirking. Frank's eyes flickered to Jeff, who was watching with such rapt interest he was actually drooling. In a flash, Frank understood what was about to happen, and he tried to back right through the wall he had been leaning against. One word finally tore from his throat. "No!"
Jason leaned over, reaching for him. "Aww, come on," he said, grabbing Frank by his shirt collar, "you and I never got to have any fun – and you come highly recommended."
Frank protested again, shoving into Charlie, who finally woke up. His head lolled in confused, thick panic as he saw the stranger with his hands on Frank. Feebly, he tried to push himself up. "Wha? Fr….Fra…."
Frank was not even aware of making a decision. He knew only that Charlie was hurt, that it was all his fault, and that it didn't matter any more what they did to him, anyway. "Charlie," he urged, "stay down. No matter what they do to me. Just stay down." He would have said more, but found it difficult to go on when Jason's hand clamped over his mouth. Frank didn't struggle against the arm that was suddenly crooked around his neck; he just let his body go limp and stared woefully at Charlie.
Having been waiting for some kind of cue, Jeff pushed himself off the railing and walked slowly toward the group. The glint of a knife blade flickered in the dank basement. "So, Doc," he said to Charlie, carefully twirling the knife until he was close enough to lean into Charlie's flushed face. "You feel like talking, yet, or do you want to watch me gut the kid, first?"
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Two-and-a-half hours after accosting Colby on the sidewalk, Joe had outlined practically half his life to the LAPD, details no one in the room ever wanted to hear from another child. The FBI agents also provided a transcript of Charlie's confession from the day before – Oswald had helped them get all the details on paper. After they shared what they had been able to come up with in the few hours since then, even LAPD was convinced. Don was released from custody, and the group headed back for the Bureau, Joe safely sandwiched in the middle of the group.
The youngest Hardy kept trying to apologize to Don, but almost five hours of being a kidnapping suspect were not sitting well with the agent. "Yeah, yeah, knock it off already," he finally said, gruffly, as the group approached the Bureau SUV. He reached out and grabbed Colby's shoulder. "I've got to talk to Charlie. I wish we could leave him out of this one, but we have to get this maniac and his organization off the street as soon as possible. Let me borrow your cell, I'm calling him in."
At the SUV now, Colby exchanged a look with Megan and then met Don's eyes. "Look, boss, we've been trying to call him for hours. Your Dad's been calling us, too – we set him up in a safe house."
Don paled and staggered, a little. "What? A safe house? Why would you put my Dad in a safe house? Where the hell is Charlie?"
Colby sighed, and David took over the report. "Alan was sent on a wild goose chase to the hospital, and when he got back to the house, Charlie was gone."
…………………………………………
Jeff glared at Charlie. They'd given Charlie a few minutes to pull himself together and force his eyes to focus again, but he still hadn't volunteered any information. He nodded slightly at Jason. It was time to begin.
Frank tried to struggle, but the man's arms gripped him firmly. He felt sick to his stomach. How could this be happening again?, he wondered. Jason pushed him to the ground and held him down, kneeling beside him and looking at Charlie. "So, Doc," he offered, "One last chance. We've been very patient with you. Are you sure you don't have anything to say? You just gonna lie there and watch me have some fun with the kid?" His eyes suddenly sparked in interest and Jason tilted his head. "Or maybe you wanna play, too. Is that it?"
Charlie's eyes flickered from Jeff to Jason to Frank, but he wasn't really seeing any of them. Ever since he had remembered Jeff killing Jessica here in this basement all those years ago, he couldn't pull himself out of the memories. He remembered getting away from the men during their initial panic, and scurrying behind the staircase. He remembered watching through the backless steps as Fenton and Jeff had decided to use the tools they had, and pulled off part of the sheetrock, stuffing her little body inside. After they had killed her, it sunk in with Fenton what he had done, and he refused to let Jeff kill Charlie, because he knew he could make Charlie be quiet.
Charlie didn't even hear Frank's gasp of pain as Jason pressed his knife down on Frank's arm, and dragged it across his skin. All he could hear were Jessica's screams, and his own whimpers.
Jeff was watching Charlie, and could see that the man wasn't really with them. They were wasting some perfectly good torture, here. "CHARLIE!", he yelled suddenly, delivering a solid kick to the mathematician's ribs. "Snap out of it! PAY SOME ATTENTION, ALREADY!" Physical pain served to break the physic connection, and Charlie groaned, tightening his arms around his midsection. He blinked rapidly as if someone had just turned the lights on. Jeff smiled in satisfaction. "Good. Jason, you may have to provide some more persuasion."
Jason shrugged and took his blade to Frank's other arm. Frank and Charlie both cried out — Frank from pain, Charlie from shock. As he registered he blood dripping off both of Frank's arms, he scrambled silently, trying to force himself up to reach him.
"Bring back memories, does it, Doc?" Jeff chuckled, pushing him back into the wall easily with his boot. "You have one more chance to talk before I let Jason have fun with the kid."
Charlie continued his struggle. "I didn't tell," he gasped, pushing weakly with his uninjured arm at Jeff's boot. "I couldn't re…."
Frank spoke loudly, interrupting. "NO! Charlie, you know that's not the truth! You gave Jeff up and you know it!" Jeff rewarded him with a slap, and he winced. It was a shot in the dark, a totally blatant lie, but Frank was desperate to buy Joe as much time as he could. The longer these two goons were convinced Charlie had something to tell them, and the longer they spent in the basement, the better chance Joe had to get them help.
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A/N: Before anyone accuses Frank again, he's trying to protect Charlie and Joe at the same time and having a hard time of it.
Thanks to FraidyCat for her splendid help with this chapter.
Thanks for your splendid reviews.
Jason out.