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Chapter Four

"No. Jeanne told us to

scare Abby. Not to hold them hostage!"

Tony slowly awakens, but the languor that inhibited his body prevents him from moving much. All he can do is listen to the blurred voices.

"Oh, this is all messed up."

"Shut up, Ray! If we want to carry this gig out, you have to stop worrying too much."

"Stop worrying? Oliver. We didn't get Abby, we got Tony! And her little brother! Do you know how much trouble we'll get ourselves in if people found out that we broke in here and held them down here in the basement? We'll be tried as adults! Not only that, we're—"

"Quiet! Both of you, just…just shut up!"

Everything becomes silent, save for the sobbing from the little child tied behind him. Timmy. Tony's mouth automatically opens to comfort him, but his voice does not come out. His tongue is also frozen with a certain taste, and it reminds him of what happened earlier. He anchors his lips together. Chloroform. It's probably what they had in that cloth they gagged him with.

"It's noisy enough with that kid crying. I don't need both of you pansies to add to it."

Pause. "And, we're not going to get in trouble."

"How can you say that, Hutch? We're down to an hour before Abby and her parents come back here."

"So?"

"So—her dad is a sniper. I'm pretty sure that when he sees his son hurt, he won't hesitate to kill all three of us. And her mom would only be so happy to make sure she justifies the murder he'll commit in court."

Tony cannot help himself from chuckling slightly. He finds afterwards that it was not a good idea, but it is already too late. He has already caught their captors' attentions.

With the little light coming in, he sees Hutch come closer to him. "You find that funny, Tony?" he asks vindictively.

Tony lifts up his head, grinning. "Yeah," he answers.

Hutch swings his clenched fist forcefully to Tony's face. He hears his hostage's jaw crack. He smirks.

"Tony!" Timmy shouts worriedly behind him.

"Keep quiet!" Ray tells him.

"I've always wanted to do that," Hutch adds as he stretches his fingers victoriously.

Tony adjusts his jaws, despite the agonizing pain that shoots through his body. He wants to lay a hand on where he was struck, but his hands are bound behind the chair he sits on. "Of course, you did," he says, his grin unfaltering. "But the only reason why you could do that is because I'm tied down."

"So what are you trying to say?"

Tony knows better than to aggravate him more. "You look much more…emasculated than last Friday in Physics when you were crowned Geek of the Week," he says, the words unintentionally spilling out of his mouth.

Those anger the boy more. He pins Tony back with his left forearm and uses his right hand to press the Swiss army knife he is holding below his neck. "Say that again," he says, mockingly tilting his head towards him. "I didn't hear it."

Tony says nothing.

"Don' hurt him!" Timmy yells.

"How many times should I tell you to stop talking?" Ray strides to Timmy, and then brashly covers his mouth with his hands. Timmy begins crying again, restricting the sobs under his closed lips.

Tony turns his head slightly in hopes to console the terrified child. The blade grazes his neck lightly, but he ignores the pain it brings. "It's okay, Timmy," he tells the little boy. "I can handle it."

"Oh, really?" Hutch asks, his mouth twisted in a devious grin. He deepens his forearms into Tony's chest, restricting his breathing. "Let's see if you really can." He draws back the weapon in his hands, intent on fulfilling its malicious purpose.

Tony struggles to muffle his gasp.

"Wait!"

Hutch swivels his head towards Oliver. "What?" he asks, annoyed.

"Don't get rid of him just yet," Oliver says pensively. He steps closer. "We can still use him to get out of this."

Hutch lets go of Tony. The latter sighs in relief when he does. "Well, are you going to tell me, genius?" Hutch inquires snidely. "Huh? Why don't you enlighten me."

"Easy on the rage, Hutch. It'll get you nowhere."

The boy says nothing.

"We can clean this mess up with him," Oliver nods towards Tony. "If we take some things, take both of them, and dump them somewhere far, the blame will fall on him. They'll think he robbed them, and because this brat saw what happened, he got rid of him while he's running away." The suggestion elicits nods and smiles from the others. "Not only do we solve these problems, but we also get a few bucks for ourselves."

Ray frowns. "But what about Jeanne? She'll know we have something to do with this," he says.

Oliver shrugs. "We can always scare her out of it," he says confidently. "After all, she was the one who paid us to be here."

The three of them exchange glances and wily smiles. Timmy only stares at one particular corner, silent. Tony notices his alarming behavior then quickly concocts a viable way to get Timmy and him out of danger.

Hutch folds in the knife, and then he pockets it. "Well, come on, then," he says after checking his watch. "It's five minutes past midnight, and I don't wanna push it."

After a final look at their captives, the three boys leave. "Don't even get any ideas, pretty boy," Ray says as he passes by. The floorboards above them squeak as pairs of feet tread around. Soon after, everything stills.

Tony releases the breath he has been holding. "How are you doing, Timmy?" he asks quietly.

"Okay," Timmy answers.

"Look. Don't worry," Tony says while listening keenly to the movement upstairs. "I'll get us out of here." He scans the room they are in, assessing the likelihood of an easy escape.

"Tony?"

"Hmm?"

"Are they also paid to be bad guys, too?"

Tony opens his mouth to ask what he meant, but he then remembers the comment he made earlier after the murder scene in 'Psycho'. He nods. "It seems that way," he admits disappointedly, especially when he thinks of the girl who caused their demise to happen. "But unlike in the movie, when they hurt us, we will really be hurt. There's no special effects." He hears a soft sob behind him, and he immediately regrets that the boy has to experience the trouble that his bad break-up with Jeanne caused. "So you have to be brave," he adds. "We just have to get out and make it to your neighbor's house. Okay?"

Timmy nods.

"Alright." Tony looks around. "All we have to do is get ourselves untied. Everything will be easier then. Hopefully." He removes the shoes then his socks to use his feet to feel for any sharp material. Abby has told him once or twice about her father's hobby of woodworking. If they're fortunate enough, perhaps he would find some shard of blade or saw edge.

He stretches out his right foot to search further, and it is then he feels the corner of a relatively sharp object. Bingo, he thinks triumphantly. He slides further on his chair to give his feet more reaching distance. Carefully, he drags the object—a scraper, he decides later on—close enough to lift it up to him. He uses his toes to pick it up efficiently, but not a few inches up, he loses grip.

"Dummy," Timmy mutters.

"Don't call me dummy!" Tony hisses. He tries again. "Do you know how hard it is to get this with sweaty feet?"

"No," Timmy says. He looks at the corner he was staring at earlier. "The Dummy. The little elevator."

Tony frowns. "Little elevator?" he repeats. After the scraper is fastened between his toes, he bends his foot back so he can reach it. He strains his torso to bend, to give his—their—tied hands more access. One swift grab, and he has it. He thinks about what Timmy says as he severs the duct tape off them. "You mean a dumbwaiter."

"Yes," Timmy responds.

Within seconds, they are both free. Tony slides the scraper in his pocket, and then lifts up the rope that weakly binds the two of them together. He gets off the chair. "How large is it?" he asks after untangling Timmy.

"It can fit us both," Timmy responds.

A slight creak from the floor above makes them both look up. "Can it carry us both?" he inquires hurriedly.

"Abby and I have been on it," Timmy answers.

Tony nods. He lifts Timmy from the floor. "Heavier than Abby, but it can manage," he mumbles. "Where is it?" He follows where Timmy points to next. They really do not have much time left, he concludes. Hutch and his little troop most likely will be back down in a minute or so, and they have to avail themselves of that time to escape with the lowest chance of getting caught as possible.

He lifts up door to the dumbwaiter as discreetly as possible. "Alright, buddy. Hop in," he boosts Timmy in. He crawls in next.

After Tony closes the door, Timmy hands him a rope. "Pull," he whispers.

"Okay," Tony mutters under his breath. He begins pulling, discovering at first tug that it is harder than he expected.

Seven strenuous heaves later, they reach their destination.

Tony sighs joyfully. He does not hear any movement outside. Good. They're still upstairs. "Timmy," he turns to him. "Whatever happens, stick to me, okay?"

Timmy nods, feeling terrified again.

Their hope for freedom immediately disintegrates when the dumbwaiter's door opens swiftly, and blinding lights pierce their eyes. Tony uses his forearm as a shield, at the same time automatically moving slightly in front of Timmy.

"Going somewhere, DiNozzo?" Ray asks, his lips carved into a smirk.


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