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Disclaimer: Not mine.

Chapter 2

Mac arrived at the scene to find it swarming with firemen who were trying desperately to put the fire out, but it seemed determined to keep burning.

Mac ran over to where two ambulances were parked side by side. Danny was sat on a stretcher inside one of them as a medic did his best to clean up the gash on his forehead. Lindsay, who was sat in the doorway of that ambulance, had a matching gash that had already been cleaned up and another medic was offering Flack some oxygen in the other ambulance.

He quickly checked over his team, and noticed Hawkes was missing. "Where's Hawkes?" he asked.

"He had to be taken into hospital. Some wood got lodged in his leg and he's going to need minor surgery to remove it." Danny said from inside the ambulance.

They all saw the look of concern on Mac's face. "He's gonna be fine." Lindsay told him.

Everyone seemed to go quite. Mac looked over his team again, hating to see them all with cuts, burns and scrapes, but at least they were alive. He couldn't be more thankful for that. He turned and looked over at the building that was finally beginning to give into the fireman's attempts to put out the angry flames. He closed his eyes and could see Jo's smiling face. He hated to think she was inside that building still, but he knew if she was then she was truly gone.

~0~0~0~0~

5 days later.

Mac and the team were stood under big black umbrellas in the miserable grave yard. Mac glanced up and saw Tyler who had one arm wrapped around Ellie who was stood with her back to the coffin. He could tell she was crying and was proud to see Tyler staying strong for her even though he knew he was feeling anything but. It was obvious how close Tyler had been to his mother and Mac felt so sorry that he had lost her; he knew how close a family they had been.

He looked down and watched as the expensive coffin was lowered into the wet cold ground. The raindrops that fell on it seemed to splash so loudly it echoed in his head, deafening him. They had not recovered Jo's body and so everyone had just placed something that reminded them of Jo in the coffin. That still didn't stop him from imagining Jo's body inside it, lying there, lifeless; her beautiful smiley brown eyes closed.

He closed his eyes and tried to will the image away but it only became clearer and this time it changed. Jo's eyes suddenly opened to look right at him and her lips moved as she begged "Please help me!"

He quickly opened his eyes. The coffin was still being lowered, but he could no longer stomach to watch it. He pushed away from the crowd and walked away from the service, not caring that everyone was watching him. The rain pelted down on him as he dodged between tombstones. It soaked him through to the bone yet he could barely feel how cold he was.

Jo's voice echoed in his head. "Help me, help me…"

~0~0~0~0~

Jo was lay on the mattress in the corner of the small concrete room she was in, her cell. She was glaring up at the plain ceiling. The room was made up of four solid cold concrete walls. It had no windows and the door was made of heavy metal. She had busted all her knuckles up hammering on it the first day she had found herself inside the room. She had been begging and screaming for help but it had done no good.

She had worked out that the room was some sort of panic room. There was an intercom system in it, just by the door. Her captor used it to talk to her and she used it to ask for permission to go the toilet or for water and food, or to answer the few questions he asked her.

Using the bathroom was the only time she was let out of her concrete cell. When this happened she was led through what had the potential to be a beautiful home. It was huge and although she had only seen parts of it she guessed it was some sort of townhouse.

When she wasn't in the panic room she could hear the traffic outside but she could never see it. The blinds and curtains were always kept closed and she was marched to the bathroom so quick that she didn't have chance to try to peek through them. When she was in the bathroom he always allowed her ten minutes and she usually used them to drink from the tap because he never gave her enough water, only ever a small glass to keep her mouth from drying up.

She was looking around her cell, thinking about how much she hated it and knowing how being stuck in it was going to make her go crazy, soon. She had no idea how many days she'd been here because she had no way of keeping track of time. Her watch had been broken in the explosion and she had no other way to check or try to track the time.

She looked up when the light began to flicker above her, she knew it meant it had been flicked off, but dodgy connections meant it always flickered before it went black in the room. She also knew this only happened when her abductor was going to talk to her or when he was tormenting her which he seemed to get great pleasure from.

She sat up and dropped her head into her hands as she heard the click and buzz of the intercom, then all she heard was his breathing, filling the small dark room. She hated when he did this, it felt like he was in the room with her and it always made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"How you feeling, Alabama?" he asked menacingly.

He had called her that since day one, however many days ago that had been. She pushed herself up and managed to feel her way around in the dark until she found the intercom. She pushed the button and said, "I need to use the bathroom?" It was a lie, but she felt like she was suffocating in this room and was desperate to get out of it.

"You only went an hour ago." he said.

"I feel sick." she told him.

There was a moment of silence before he said, "You're lying, Alabama!"

Jo sighed. She decided to just try the truth. "Please, I just want to be out of this room, just for a few minutes." she said.

Again silence was the only reply she got. Unable to take it any longer she slammed the palm of her hand against the door and jabbed the button with her finger, much harder than necessary, and said, "Please you son-of-a-bitch!" she knew it would make him less likely to let her out but she was angry and frustrated and in pain.

She had a nasty gash on the back of her head that she had sustained in the explosion, not to mention gashes to both her elbows and multiple burns of different degrees all over her body. She also had a deep laceration on her stomach from which she had pulled out a shard of metal. Her skin and scorched clothes were filthy, and dried blood seemed to be caked all over her despite her best efforts to clean it off over multiple trips to the bathroom.

She sighed and stepped back away from the door. She felt her way back over to the corner of the room and was about to sit down on the mattress when the light came on again. She turned to face the door and watched as it slid open with the same loud 'whooshing' sound it always made.

She watched her abductor, her tormentor, as he stood there, glaring at her. "Come here." he told her. His voice was as deep and as raspy as usual.

Obediently she took a step towards him. She was just a couple of steps away from him when she stopped. "Come here!" he told her more firmly.

Jo knew what she was about to do was stupid but she was desperate for freedom, so, stupid or not she was doing it. She lunged forward and to her delight her elbow connected hard with his face. She didn't even think about the pain it had caused her injured elbow as she ran through the room in which the panic room was.

She knew this room led out to a long corridor. Next to this room was the bathroom she had been allowed to use, but she was going for the stairs that she had noticed the first time she had been led to the bathroom.

She was halfway down them when she heard her abductor on his feet and chasing after her. Her side was causing her agony and was making running hard, but she kept moving. The next floor of the house was like a maze and she saw no more stairs but also no front door to run out of.

So she dove into a room and quickly slipped into another one unnoticed. She hid behind a large dresser in the otherwise empty room. She knew she needed either a better hiding place or a way out of the house. She peeked out from behind it and saw a window across the room from her. Silently she crept over to it.

She felt gutted when she pushed the curtains open to see the window had metal bars on it on the outside. She knew she wasn't getting through that one. The nearby sound of footsteps quickly made her run back over to her pathetic hiding place behind the dresser.

"Alabama!" she heard her abductor call out.

She pressed herself tighter against the wall, wishing it would open up and swallow her, transport her somewhere safe, but that thought was foolish and clearly never going to happen.

She heard the footsteps move into the room where she was and she tried to hold her breath, she even placed her hand over her nose and mouth. She was scared that she would be heard breathing and would give away her hiding place, but suddenly making a sound didn't matter.

"You gonna come out from behind the dresser there on you own, Alabama? Or do I have to make you?" he said to her.

She didn't answer she just hid in the shadows praying he would think she wasn't there and would move on to another room and give her the chance to find a way out. She was in too much pain to try to run again. She could feel warm blood dribbling down her stomach, seeping into the already blood stained waistband of her jeans. The laceration on her stomach was responsible.

"Have it your way." She heard him say.

For a second it was silent and she thought that maybe her prayers had been answered but then the dresser began to push against her, thanks to her captor. He was strong, much stronger than she was. Her attempts to push it back towards him were in vain. The dresser was so damn heavy too, solid English oak. She didn't stand a chance. The prick was going to crush her behind it.

It was give in or be crushed. "Stop!" she screamed, but he didn't.

It was a struggle but she managed to squirm her way out from behind the dresser, the second she did a heavy fist connected hard with her cheek. "You try to run again and I will kill you." he told her.

Then, with one hand he grabbed a handful of her hair and with the other he grabbed her arm and twisted it painfully up her back. Keeping her like this he pushed her back up the stairs and back to the panic room. He pushed her in it and the door then slammed shut behind her.

It reopened a minute later. Jo flinched as a rolled up newspaper was thrown at her. "Look at the front page." her captor told her.

Reluctantly Jo did as he told her. The second she saw it a sob caught in her throat. It was an article on a fallen Detective's funeral…her funeral. It made her feel sick. Her friends, her children, her family all thought she was dead. She wanted to scream 'I'm not, I'm here. Please come find me!' She scanned the paper and saw the date. Finally she knew how long she had been trapped here, knew how long her loved ones had thought her dead, and she understood why today was her funeral. She'd been gone 5 days and was presumed dead.

"Now, it's time to make a call." Her abductor said to her.

~0~0~0~0~

Mac was sat in his office, behind his desk, staring at his computer screen which had now gone blank from having not been used. It was silent in his office and as he glanced up at the rest of the lab that too seemed silent. However, it was better than being at home. That place was always silent and he hated it.

The silence was interrupted by the shrill ringing of his phone. He glanced at it as it spun around in a circle as it vibrated loudly. He picked it up and glanced at caller Id. When he saw who was ringing him he almost dropped it back down.

He calmed himself as best he could and with a shaky voice answered, "Jo?" he said.

"Mac Taylor?" a voice that wasn't Jo's asked.

"Who is this?"

"I asked you first. Is this Mac Taylor?"

"Yes! Now where did you get this phone?"

"From Jo."

"This is some sort of a sick joke, right?" he growled, angry that someone would play such a cruel trick on today of all days.

"I can assure you this is no joke, it's deadly serious. Jo is here with me."

"I don't believe you." Mac said.

"Check your emails."

Immediately Mac did, he saw the only new message he had and opened it and then opened the attached file and found he was staring at a picture of Jo. In her hands was a newspaper, the one with her picture and the article about her funeral. It was today's paper.

"Where the hell is she?" he asked.

"She's here…"

"Please, tell me what you want in exchange for her safety?" he asked.

"That's easy. You and your team play along, you all follow my rules; follow them exactly how I tell you and you can have her back as soon as you're done."

"And what exactly do me and my team have to do?" Mac asked.

"Clear my name. I never killed those school girls they're saying I did. You and your team are going to prove it."

Mac suddenly knew just who he was talking to and as he thought about the things this man was capable of his fear for Jo only worsened. "Your DNA was found inside every one of them girls, left behind after you raped them." Mac reminded Gerard Cullen.

"I never said I didn't rape them, I said I didn't kill them."

"Then who did?" Mac asked.

"That's what you and your team have to find out. You have 48 hours. After that I kill Jo and start shipping her back to you in pieces, and not in that order."

"If you hurt her…!" Mac began to say but was cut off.

"You have 48 hours Detective Taylor, I suggest you don't waste time making stupid threats that you will never get the chance to carry out."

"How can I get in touch with you?" he asked.

"You can't. I'll keep in touch with you."

"Gerard…"

"Don't call me that!"

"Then what should I call you?"

"Call me the Gamekeeper, because you and your entire team are now playing my game." he replied before the line went dead.

TBC

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