"Stop moving!" Pierce snapped, "Be a good little captive and let me anesthetize that wound!"

"What wound?" Calleigh demanded.

He pulled out a cell phone and took a picture. He showed it to her. On the side of her head, a small but nasty looking gash stood out, just below her hairline. It would need stiches.

"How do I know that is local anesthesia?"

He nonchalantly injected it into her forearm. She protested in a genteel manor.

"Wow," Pierce said, scratching his ringing ears, "I thought hearing Chief Barton in the Navy was an impressive display of badmouthing. Need some soap to wash your mouth?"

"No, I don't need-" she didn't finish describing what she didn't blanking need as he then began to poke repeatedly with the needle. She didn't feel it.

"We have a little trust here, now?" the terrorist asked, "Jeeze, what happened to the days when hostages feared their captors? I miss the bad old days."

"You won't get away with this," Calleigh declared, "You have FBI, MDPD, the whole country looking for you."

"Yeah, don't mean I can't mess with you while I can," he said as he refilled the syringe with anesthesia, "Besides, I got an escape route if things get too dicey."

"And that would be?" she asked as he stuck the needle in the general area of the gash. She felt her left eyebrow grow heavy.

"I want you to take a moment and think before you answer," he said, "Did you really I'd tell you?"

"It was worth a shot," she said.

"No, it really wasn't," he looked a little insulted, "Seriously, I'm not stupid. That's why I know I can't out run you guys forever, and hence escape plan."

"So who is your target?" she asked. Keep him talking. Make him feel like he has all the power...

"I can honestly say I haven't a clue," he said, using the pliers and needle to begin stitching up her head, "Few leads, though. It's process, investigations, you know."

"No plan?"

"Somewhere between Jack Sparrow and Danny Ocean. Now hushup. I gots me some plans for you."

Lyn

"There is no way in hell this is going to work," I said as I uncoiled the wire.

"It will," Trev assured me, "I developed this when I served in Force Recon, 'Make a them shoot where you aren't'. Same principle, just on a larger scale."

"Hey, why would they use the alias 'Mike Pierce' when they put out those BOLOs?"

"Mike Pierce was the name of a friend who worked in Naval Intelligence when I was a Marine," he said, "No family, bit of a loner. Killed in one of those top secret missions, being where he wasn't supposed to be but ordered to be. No death certificate was ever issued. A few months latter, a guy in State Department wanted me for a task force that would require me to be separate from the Marines. SECNAV didn't want to lose such a valuable operator, so I took Pierce's name and joined the SEALs."

"Seems kind of... wrong."

"You obviously did not know Mike," Trev pointed out, "Drank like fish, cursed like a, well, sailor, and was a huge fan of... um..."

"What?"

"He used the term 'Foreward Lateral Hip-Thrusts'."

"Huh?"

"Heterosexual PT."

"Ugh, really? He chose to call sex that?"

Trev only chuckled, "Carefull with that. It's supposed to be a Thermobaric Weapon. They have a slight tendency to be unstable."

I failed to keep the humor from my voice, "Yeah, slight."

The team was buzzing from adrenaline and coffee, pulling all stops to find Pierce. The tension was thick enough to be cut with a knife.

"What do you mean, we lost them?" Patriks demanded of his tech man.

Tomazaki quailed before his boss, "They ditched the Audi in another parking lot without functioning cameras. They could be halfway to Fort Luderdale by now."

"Gah!" Patriks cursed, "Lieutenant, have your guys found any trace on the Audi?"

"We're going over it with a fine-toothed comb," Horatio said, his eyes hard and angry. This was personal, "It'll take approximately nine hours to process all the evidence."

"Pull more resources, I'll have the FBI lend you more manpower if you need it," Patriks said, "Where the hell is the fuckin State Department with my intelligence files?"

"Consular Operations is dragging their feet," one of his aides said, "Undersecretary Ambler says that their having trouble finding finding the files. Apparently they were never converted to digital."

"Bullshit, he just doesn't want us to know that they've been spying on the FBI's turf," Patriks growled as his phone beeped. Suddenly his demeanor changed, "Horatio, trace this number: 964-555-8749," he took a deep breah and answered, putting it on speaker, "Patriks."

"Hi, buddy," the voice was cold and humored.

"Mike," Patriks replied, "Kidnapping a cop? That's a lot of shit to bring down."

"I'm flattered by your worry," Pierce chuckled, "And I haven't harmed her."

"That's good," Patriks said, "Nothing you've done is unforgivable. Turn yourself in, and we could work out a deal."

"Now, buddy, you and I both know my body would be dumped into the Gulf enroute to Cuba," he actually chuckled at that.

"You were out, home free," Patriks said, "If it is so dangerous here, why stay?"

"A reporter once asked John Dillinger why he robbed banks," the terrorist said, "'Because that's where the money is the money is'."

"So what's in this bank?"

He chuckled, "If you want to know where you cop is, look at 578 Auburray. But I wouldn't send SWAT in first thing," the the line went dead.

"We get a trace?" Patriks demanded.

"Not enough time," Horatio growled, "Auburray, that's right down the road. It's walking distance from here."

"Jock everyone up, get HRT here now," Patriks ordered, "He's probably booby trapped it someway, so we'll just have to be smarter."

Horatio and Patriks pulled up, literally two blocks away from the crime lab to a med-sized house. They both drew their sidearms and moved to the door way, HRT and backup not far behind. Horatio peeked through the window, a rare curse exiting his lips.

Calleigh was taped and bound to the chair. All around her were blocks of yellow putty, all with multiple wires leading to an area behind Calleigh and resting on top of a collection of tanks of gasoline, propane, and bags upon bags of fertalizer.

And they seemed to fill the entire house.

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