Disclaimer: I don't own CSI Miami
Chapter 11
Ryan felt as if somebody had punched him right in the gut, "What?"
"I'm sorry, Ryan…"
Ryan took a deep breath. First his uncle, now his mother. This couldn't be true now, could it? "You gotta be kidding me…" But he knew Horatio wasn't. "What… How is my father?"
"Upset, but not seriously hurt. He got a smack across his face when he tried to keep them away from your mother. Ryan, I know this is hard, but I need you to keep cool. This is top priority. I need all hands on deck."
"Me too? How about conflict of interest?"
Horatio gave his CSI a smile, "I think we've crossed that line long before."
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When Ryan arrived at HQ, his father was there too. Ryan met with Frank outside the room where Duke sat, "Why is there no one processing my father?"
"Natalia is at the Hyatt, Calleigh in the ballistics lab with the bullet the terrorist fired and Delko is on his way to HQ. And Horatio's dealing with the media."
Ryan frowned, "You wanna tell me there's no one of the team available…?"
"Exactly."
"And that I…"
"Again, exactly."
Ryan shook his head, "I can't…" But then he knew this was stupid. This was about finding his mother and his uncle, and it was a race against time. So he sighed and entered the room where his father was sitting. He looked pretty beaten. At least on the outside. But Ryan saw from his eyes that he wasn't giving up. And that he wanted this to be over just as fast as Ryan did.
So Ryan walked into the room, put his field kit down and said, "Look. I know this is awkward…."
"It's not awkward, it's useless. My wife has been kidnapped, and you make me sit in a room and tell me something about trace transfer."
"Look. We're in the same situation here. Those guys have two people we care for. Well… you at least for one. I want them back. And even though you might doubt it, we can get them back. If we find solid evidence."
"Haven't you fucked up enough already? If you had shot all of them, my wife wouldn't be missing."
"Well, I would have shot, but there were civilians present, and I might have hit one of them in the process!"
Duke got up. He was still a bit taller than Ryan. "She's a burglar. She is a criminal. Collateral damage."
Ryan shook his head, "I can't believe it. That criminal risked her life to get your brother back! She is sitting next door, with a broken finger because she punched a terrorist who held a gun at her. Thanks to her we have one of them in custody."
Duke watched his son a second and then grinned, "You were there, you had a gun, you're a trained cop… and a girl brought the terrorist down? I always thought something went wrong at the hospital at your birth…."
Ryan had enough. Just enough. In his head, he went over everything that had happened in his young life. 27 years, 15 years of them always under his father's control and the rest of them trying to forget. But he hadn't forgotten. He was reminded of it. Everyday when he looked into the mirror. Every time he had screwed up at the job. Every second when he felt down. It was just enough.
"Okay, I'm fed up. I am so fed up! You think something went wrong at the hospital? I wish it were, but face it: we're related. I had to face that too…"
"What…"
"No! Now you will listen! I know I was never good enough for you. You wanted me to be a proud, strong soldier, but how was I supposed to become proud and strong when you humiliated me all the way? You haven't got the faintest idea what it has done to me. I was only good enough for you as long as I did what you wanted me to do, without ever questioning it. I was only good enough for you as long as you thought I was going to be a soldier. But when I decided I'd do what I wanted to do, I suddenly wasn't worth it anymore. Do you know that I still look every morning at what you've done to me before you threw me out? I didn't go to the police to report you because I didn't want to ruin my family, but coming to think about it, you ruined that family! Now, I guess you don't even remember all the things you've done that broke me, but I do. I think about it everyday. But you know what? In the end you were probably right, because, no matter how much thinking of you hurts me, I managed to grow stronger. Despite all the odds, I managed to get the job I always wanted, and I never came back to you begging for you to accept me as your son again. I got shot, I got almost killed, I was on the edge of loosing my eye sight, but I came back. I made a mistake for which I got fired and I worked every possible job to not depend on anyone else for money while trying to get reinstated, and I came back. Now, I'm trying my best to get back the only people that have ever cared for me, and I will not fail. And no matter what you say or do will make me feel I'm not up to this, because I know how good I am at what I do."
Ryan had to take a breath. He knew that this time his father would probably slap him for what he said no matter where they were because he was under pressure too, but Ryan didn't care. He just had to say it. And he meant every word he said. Yes, he had been doubting everything for almost his whole life because it had been beaten into him that he was weak and a failure and that he had to change that. But thinking this every day had obscured his view for the truth. Namely the truth that he was good at what he did. Now, he saw as clear as day. And nothing his father would do to him now would change that.
Duke watched Ryan after that long speech. Then he slowly raised his hand. The boy was giving him attitude? Now, he would teach him better. But then he looked into Ryan's eyes. Ryan was looking back. His eyes cold as stone and rock steady. And for the second time ever, Duke didn't hit him. Instead he lowered his hand and said, "I thought you wanted to process me?"
Ryan nodded, "Yeah." He took a Q-Tipp out of his kit and swabbed his father's lower lip.
Duke frowned, "What was that for? You have my DNA already."
"It's not about yours. If the guy has hit you, there's transfer. You might have some of his skin between your teeth, or some of his blood anywhere there…." He put the swab away. "Did you hit him too?" Duke didn't answer but held his hand out. Ryan grinned, "Fight bite. We might something from that…"
"Do you really think this is gonna bring us any further to finding my wife and your uncle?"
"I don't think, I know." He put the kit away. "Is there anything else you noticed about him? An accent, a particular smell, anything out of the ordinary? In general, what did he look like?"
Duke frowned, "I told the detective already…."
"Tell me again. Please."
"He was tall, about 6 feet. Broad shoulders, almost like a body builder, but only almost. Left handed. Caucasian. Brown eyes, black hair. Moustache." Now he closed his eyes, "He smelled of…. some really expensive after shave. I can't tell you about an accent because he didn't speak…."
Ryan frowned, "Nobody of them wore a mask. That's bad…"
"I know. It means they don't really plan to let their witnesses go after… you know. Did the man you caught wear a mask?" Ryan shook his head. "Then probably neither Ron nor the girl was supposed to survive this." He rested his arms on the table. "Have you questioned him already?"
Ryan shook his head, "Not formally. Eric maybe has asked him some stuff, but we're gonna take a statement right here…" He got up and added, "Thanks for your cooperation. I know this wasn't easy for you." He walked to the door.
"Ryan?"
Ryan turned around, "Sir?"
"I know you've never appreciated what I've taught you. You told me damn straight today. Nevertheless, this is a critical situation. He's a terrorist. You might want to remember some of the things I taught you when you were a kid when you're questioning him…"
Ryan shook his head, "I have my own methods…." Then he smiled. "But believe me, I haven't forgotten any of yours." He left the room.
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I hope you liked this one, took me ages to write. Also, I want to say sorry, because it'll take me some time to update again after this one. University has started again, and I'm quite busy with everything so... Sorry again. Don't hate me....