Chapter 16
Back at the house Sam woke with a start. He looked around frantically.
Bryan, seeing the look on Sam's face rushed over to his friend. "Sam?" he said. "You okay?" Sam looked up at Bryan locking eyes with him. They were wild.
"What is it?" asked Bryan. Sam shook his head.
"Talk to me Sam," said Bryan worried. "What's the matter? What's wrong?"
"Nothing," replied Sam. "I just thought I heard Dean yelling for help. I thought I heard him call my name. "Bryan sat down beside him, careful not to touch him, not right now. Not the way he looked.
"Sam we're going to get Dean back. I promise," said Bryan. Sam nodded and looked over toward the treatment area. Jack's bed was empty.
"How's Jack?" asked Sam.
"He's okay," replied Bryan. "He's a little groggy is all. He's upstairs drinking coffee. Why don't you come up too?" Sam nodded.
"I'll be right there," he said.
"Good," replied Bryan and left. Sam went over to the sink to wash his face and was about to join the others upstairs when his cell phone rang. He froze. After a couple of rings he answered it.
"Good morning Sam," said Nemesis. "Look at the door to the clinic." Sam did as he was as he was told. He looked up at the door. Langston walked inside, gun drawn. Sam closed his eyes and swallowed.
"Pay attention," said Nemesis and ended the call. Langston locked the door going to the clinic then went upstairs and locked the basement door also. Sam shivered, suddenly he was very cold. His sanity slipped a bit further. Langston came back downstairs to the clinic and walked over to Sam.
"Sit down," he said. Sam did as he was told and glared at the detective. Langston smiled.
"Is there something you want to say to me Sammy?" asked Langston.
"Don't call me Sammy!"
"What?" said Langston in warning? Sam sat frozen, afraid to say more. Langston came over and sat in front of him leveling the gun. Sam wanted to scream, to yell up the stairs for somebody to come and help him but he didn't say a word.
He seemed to take Sam's silence as a challenge. Leaning forward in his chair he sought a reaction from the young hunter. "I'm handling you Sam. I'm still pulling your strings. I'm manipulating you. Understand?"
Because a response was clearly wanted, Sam didn't give one. He could feel somebody else watching and knew that he and Langston were not the only ones there.
Rising from his chair, Langston tried once more to get a reaction from Sam. "Dean is in so much pain right now Sam, it isn't funny. My boss just keeps on hurting him. He gets a kick out of it," he said.
"Don't," said Sam. "Please." He swallowed hard as two more men came to the door. They were huge, thought Sam. Langston let them in and they walked over to Sam's chair. They flanked him. Both had pistols fitted with silencers and their eyes were like those you usually saw from the free side of a cage.
"He's carrying a pistol in the small of his back," Langston told them. One of the gunmen told Sam to stand up and he got up from his chair. The other gunman lifted Sam's jacket and took the pistol from him.
When told to sit down, Sam obeyed.
"Please," he said.
"You were told yesterday to put all the guns in the trunk of the car Sam but you kept one out. My boss told you what would happen to Dean if you didn't do as you were told. I know for a fact why you went into McDonalds with Brad." He took Sam's phone out and opened the back, removing the microphone that they had placed in it then replaced the back and put the phone back into Sam's pocket. Sam just stared.
"Tony and Bryan came to the bar last night and threatened me. They shouldn't have done that," said Langston. Sam broke out in a cold sweat and began to shake.
Langston yelled, causing Sam to jump. "DO YOU THINK I'M STUPID!!"
"No!" answered Sam fearfully.
"You must," replied Langston. Sam shook his head.
"I don't," he said.
"Sam!" yelled Bryan and tried the door knob. He had gotten nervous when Sam didn't come upstairs and was going to check on him, but found the door locked from the inside. He banged on it when he couldn't get it open.
"SAM!" yelled Brad frantically.
Sam looked at Langston from his chair and said. "I feel sorry for you." Langston's eyes narrowed, his face hardened.
As if he sensed that Langston was offended bad enough to react, one of the men raised a hand to stop him from pulling the trigger.
"No," he said. "Nemesis doesn't want him dead." Langston looked at the man and after a minute relaxed again.
"Sam," he said. "You've been a disappointment to my boss. You're brother is already paying for that." Sam's heart began beating rapidly and he was trying hard not to hyperventilate.
"Sam, are you okay?" yelled Bryan and Tony.
"Stay where you are," Langston yelled up the stairs. "If you don't you're young friend will be killed!"
Tony and Bryan recognized the voice and knew he would do what he said, so they stopped banging and waited.
Jason was the name of one of the gunmen. He had the golden glow that could have been gotten only with a tanning bed. He was in his fifties, but didn't look it. He was an ex cop, because of a wound and now lived just for himself. He had been on the SWAT team before he'd gotten hurt and had no trouble getting the job done. Whatever that job may be.
"Sam I'm curious," said Jason.
"About what?" asked Sam?
Instead of answering, Jason said. "I'm a practical kind of man. In my business I do what I need to do and I don't get sick over it. Sam translated those words to mean that Jason did not allow himself to be troubled by guilt.
"I know a lot of men who do what needs to be done. Practical men," said Jason. Sam waited. For now there was nothing to do but wait.
"Dean's being hurt right now Sam, because you didn't do as you were told," said Langston. "You must not care as much about him as you say you do?"
"Yes I do!" yelled Sam.
"I don't think so. If you did you would not have tried to keep a gun, or talk where we couldn't hear you. Nemesis told you what to do and you didn't do it, now Dean's is paying." Langston handed Sam a photograph of Dean.
"Oh my God," said Sam. He was cuffed down to a table in only his boxers and locked inside a freezer. Sam looked closer and noticed that Dean was wet.
"Oh God please," said Sam. Langston took the picture back and sat down in the chair facing Sam. His gun was still leveled at him.
The two gunmen never took their eyes off Sam. He looked at all three of them. He could not let them see how terrified he really was. They would assume that the extreme fear would make him reckless and they would watch him even closer than they watched him now.