"Flack… Flack. Flack!" Stella snapped the distraught detective from the daze he was in; Don Flack Jr. could only look up at her. "We've got a trace from the call. He's in an abandon warehouse in downtown Manhattan." A flicker of hope crossed Flack's face before he got to his feet and cleared his throat. "Do we have a team assembled?"
"There already on their way." Mac spoke up. Soon enough the whole team was assembled outside the abandoned warehouse. With a nod from Mac, the front door was slammed down.
"NYPD! We know you're in here!" Flack roared as he made his way into the warehouse. A bulletproof jacket was concealed by his uniform while a gun lay in his hand.
"In here!"
Flack followed the voices into a vast and empty room. A large bed lay in one corner, some blood staining the sheets while ropes and lay on the ground. It was then that he noticed the clothes Adrianna had worn when he last saw her was scattered on the floor. Trying not to lose hope, Flack shouted out for back up. They had obviously been here. Stella soon joined him- together they discovered a locked door. With a few gun shots, they broke the door down.
"Oh God." Stella felt the color drain from her face at the sight in front of her. Adrianna lay in a bathtub clad in only her underwear. Her hands were tied behind her back and her feet were bound together. The scenario was eerily familiar, but it was the sack covering Adrianna's head that sent her reeling – it had Stella's face drawn on it.
"Adrianna!" Flack rushed to her side and pulled the sack off of her head only to see that a gag was covering her mouth. Her face was deathly pale and her eyes were closed. Flack quickly removed it only to hear her gasping for breath. Having untied Adrianna's arms and feet, Stella called for an ambulance.
"Adria… doll, can you hear me?" Flack cradled her tiny frame in his arms. Her eyes slightly flickered open before shutting close as her wheezing became more apparent. Flack held back his tears as he fully took in her appearance. Bruises were beginning to blossom on her wrists, inner thighs, neck and cheek bone. The wounds on her wrists and legs showed that she had struggled against her bonds. Bloody bite marks were apparent on her shoulder, neck and hip bone while a slight cut lay at the base of her neck. Her bra straps had been cut off and her underwear lay dangerously low on her hips – as if they had already been pulled down.
"She's going to be okay, Flack." Messer placed a somewhat comforting hand on Flack's shoulder as the two, along with the rest of the team, waited in the halls of the hospital.
"Did he…" Flack trailed off.
"No… he almost did, but we came in time." Stella took a seat beside him and linked her arm in his. "Hey, from what I've seen and hear about her, she's strong. Adrianna will pull through."
"I hope your right, Stell… For her sake and mine." And then Flack got to his feet and headed into the hospital room. His heart almost broke at the sight of the woman he loved… Oh God, he loved her. Hesitating momentarily, the tall detective sat down by her bedside as the beeping of the heart machine filled his ears.
"Hey… I'm sorry, Adria. I wish I could have come sooner, wish he never lay his hands on you. I know you can't hear me, but… I think I love you, so please… don't let go… I need you." He took her tiny hand into his and pressed a soft kiss on it before getting to his feet and leaving.
"I'm sorry, Flack." Mac met him outside the room.
"She'll be okay, Mac. She'll be okay." Flack found himself saying – maybe if he said it enough, he'd actually believe it himself.
"He left this note." Mac handed him a wrinkled piece of paper.
"Shouldn't you be checking this for trace?"
"We have… there was none. We'll need it back of course… I just thought that you had a right to read it."
Taking the letter from him, Flack shot Mac a weary look before opening it and reading:
So you've found the Spanish whore, haven't you? It's a pity that I couldn't do more to her, but I realized that you were all hot on my trail. Smart CSIs, aren't you. Well go ahead and pat yourselves in the back – I've already caused the damage I wanted.
Country girl, how does it feel to know that your only sister went through hell because of you? How does it feel to know that your lover suffered torture because you decided to sleep in? You should be guilty, you bitch, because you caused them that pain. You're as much at fault for all this.
Curly haired goddess, you truly are beautiful. I would have loved to have a piece of you as well, but I've hurt you already. Did you not love the way I left the whore for you to find? Did it not bring up some memories? Well I hope it hurt- I hope it haunts you forever.
Smart mouth, how's the hand? I wish my men had killed you that day. I hope country girl leaves you and that you suffer with her as she drowns in her guilt.
Ah… Serpico, your Spanish whore was wonderful. You must love feeling her body underneath yours – oh, but you two haven't even gotten that far. I guess I beat you to it. Let me tell you… she's truly talented. You should have heard her scream. Good luck putting her back together again- that is if there's anything left to fix. I think I may have broken her.
And you… Mac Taylor. Damn you. I will have my revenge on you. But for now… may you suffer knowing that this is all your fault. You should have just let me get away with my snow. I'm hoping to hear from you, very soon… Did I mention? I have a thing for British women, know any?
