The party was over before it had even begun. Steve and Jeannie's children had been taken to a safe location by Hasseejian and another plain clothes officer. Mike had wanted Jeannie to go too, but she had refused. "Steve is my husband," she hissed at Mike, as though her father did not know that. "I have to be here."

It seemed as though the entire police department had been mobilised. Campus security at Berkeley had been alerted to check Steve's office and car; an APB had been issued for Cord and also for Steve. Cord's files were being brought from Records and a request had gone to the prison for an up-to-date photo if they had one.

"Cord is clever," Mike explained to Lenny. He and Jeannie were holding hands, drawing strength and comfort from one another. "He's had 20 years to plan this. Finding Steve won't be easy."

"What did Cord say?" Lenny asked. He wasn't the only person who wanted to know this answer.

"He's going to call the precinct in four hours," Mike replied. "He said he would give all his demands then, but I was to remember that if the cops got too close, Steve would pay the penalty."

"What does he mean by that?" Lenny was working in the dark, not knowing anything about Cord.

"He'll kill him," Jeannie whispered. "But only after he's got what he wants from us."

Troubled by the expression on Jeannie's face, Lenny reached out to give her some comfort. Jeannie pulled away. "He wanted to kill me," she said. "I saw his face after he killed Valerie." She swallowed. "I'll never forget it. He wants to kill me and he'll kill Mike and Steve, too."

"He won't kill Steve," Mike promised.

"He will!" Jeannie flared. "He'll make us do all kinds of things, promising to let Steve go at the end of it and you know that he'll kill him in the end, after he's killed me!" She burst into tears.

"Jeannie, I'd like to give you a sedative," Lenny suggested tentatively.

Brushing the tears from her face, Jeannie scorched him with a look. "I don't need a sedative," she snapped. "I'm fine! I have to be fine! We have to find Steve."

"We will find Steve," Mike agreed and hugged his daughter. "Let's go down to the precinct, and find out as much as we can about what Cord has been doing while he's been in prison. That will help us find him."

"All right," Jeannie agreed and leaned on Mike's strong arm as they left the hall.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A sound – shocking in the stillness of the space – made Steve lift his head. He felt really ill; his head was throbbing, he was nauseous and his arms were aching from their restrained position. He had struggled with the bonds as best he could, but they were going nowhere. He remembered fighting to escape from the ropes that Cord had used to tie him the last time they met, and he had not managed to escape then, either. He shivered as a key scraped in the lock of the iron door and it wasn't entirely from the pervading cold and damp. He was afraid.

Once upon a time, as a rookie cop, he would never have admitted his fear, even to himself. He was older and, he hoped, wiser now and knew that admitting his fear meant he was dealing with it. That knowledge didn't make him feel any better, however. He started to struggle to his feet.

The door opened and blazing light hit his eyes, making his already throbbing headache so much worse. He winced and ducked his head, and in those few seconds he couldn't see anything, Cord crossed the room and yanked him to his feet, shoving him against the wall with unnecessary force. "So we meet again, Inspector," Cord sneered. "Or should I say Professor?"

"Whatever you think you want, you won't get it," Steve gasped through a dry mouth.

"No?" Cord laughed. He gestured around him with one hand. "How do you like your accommodations?" he asked. "Completely escape proof and so deserted that you'll never be found. The old man and the girl will spend hours hunting for you and in the end I'll kill them and you'll never know when they died. I'll visit you regularly until the end, though. I wouldn't want you to think I don't care about you."

"You're sick, Cord," Steve growled. "You won't get Mike and Jeannie. I won't let you."

"No?" Cord laughed again. "How're you gonna stop me, Professor? In case you hadn't noticed, you're all tied up."

Steve might have been older and wiser, but he was still Steve. In one of the craziest, most desperate moves he had ever made, he head-butted Cord right on the nose. He felt the other man's nose break and the warmth of his blood as it splattered onto Steve's face and neck. He almost retched on the spot, but he knew he had to take advantage of this opportunity. He pulled free as Cord stumbled back, clutching at his nose, and ran towards the door.

It was difficult running with his hands bound behind him, but Steve put every ounce of speed he had into his pace, forcing himself to ignore the throbbing in his head as much as he could, gulping in air and resisting the urge to look behind him.

Outside of the small room he was in was a corridor. It ran from left to right and he instinctively turned right. There was no indication where the exit might be, but he had to keep moving. From behind him, he heard an enraged bellow and then heavy footsteps running after him. Gritting his teeth and stumbling on, Steve could hear the steps growing closer.

He still thought he had a chance of escaping. He couldn't afford to think otherwise, but his hopes were cruelly dashed as he rounded a corner and found himself facing a dead end! Panting, he glanced around wildly, hoping to see another corridor or room that he hadn't seen on his desperate flight, but there was nothing.

"Not so clever, are we, Professor?" Cord taunted, slowing to a walk now that he had Steve cornered again. "I would say you're going to pay for that, but since you're going to die anyway, what's the point? Of course, I would enjoy making you pay." He closed in, using his greater height and weight to herd Steve into a corner. The younger man was panting heavily, his headache now so bad he could barely see. He vowed he was not going to go down without a fight.

Squinting heavily, Steve kicked out, aiming for Cord's groin, but Cord knew more about close-quarters dirty fighting than Steve had ever learned and was not hampered by bound hands. He dodged the kick quite easily and in seconds had Steve pinned against the wall. "Your manners leave a lot to be desired," Cord panted. Blood streamed from his nose, but he didn't appear to notice it anymore.

Keeping Steve pinned against the wall, he untied the bandanna he had used to gag the former detective before and jammed it back between his teeth, knotting it as tightly as he could. Steve resisted the urge to groan and sent a plea to whomever might be listening that he not puke, as he knew that he would choke to death if he did. Cord grabbed his arm and dragged him along the corridor, pushing him back into the cell he had come from originally. Steve tumbled to the floor, which was clearly Cord's intent.

"I had wanted you to smile for the photo," the madman went on, producing a Polaroid camera from a bag, "but the gag looks nice on you too. Watch the birdie," he cooed and the camera flashed a couple of times. "These are good; look," he said when they were developed and he showed them to Steve. The blood from Cord's nose was clearly visible on Steve's face, as was a dark stain on the collar of his cream shirt. Steve was horrified.

"Now," Cord said, straightening up, "I've got a date with your wife and father-in-law. I wouldn't want to let them down, you know. I'll be back soon and in the meantime, you be good." He laughed and left.

The door banged hollowly and the sound of the lock clicking closed was soul destroying. For a moment, Steve allowed himself to hope that the light would be left on, but after several tantalising seconds, it went out and he was left in total darkness again. He counted himself lucky that Cord had not beaten him to a pulp. Dragging himself off the floor, he slid over to a wall and began the laborious process of scraping the gag out of his mouth once more.