Escalation
Chapter
8
Solution
The more I see of man, the more I like dogs. ~Mme. de Staël
Hotch lay on the towels in the box for most of the next day. It was good to be left alone, and he managed to recover a little of his strength. he guessed that he was in desperate need of medical help, and that he was going to die if he didn't receive it, but given time to recover put off the date of his dying, and increased the chances of escape.
When they came to use him that evening however, he was attacked with a frenzy. The chain was detached from the wall, and he was dragged by the neck over to the bed. He tried to get to his feet, but they pulled him over. He pulled back on the chain, and tried to get it out of their hands. In return the men kicked him in the groin and Hotch doubled up, as they kicked the fight out of him. Three men lifted him onto the bed and laid him on his front. His attacker sat astride his hips and pulled the chain around his neck so that his chest was arched off the bed. He tried to scream, but all he could do was choke, and he made thick gagging sounds as he was slowly choked to death.
He passed out quickly, and this is what his attacker wanted – a compliant fairly fresh recipient who would not fight back.
He dropped the chain, and Hotch fell back face down on the bed. He had no knowledge of what this man did to him, but the other three did, and they took turns in raping him. Blood spurted across the room and painted arcs of red on the walls as Hotch was defiled. When they had finished, they sat on the bed and got drunk. They woke up Hotch, and the man groaned in agony. The men laughed at his pain, and forced alcohol down Hotch's throat.
They hadn't finished with him, and the abuse went on into the night, until the four men were exhausted, and dragged the semiconscious Hotchner back to his corner, and chained him back up. Money was exchanged, and the four men went home.
Hotch vomited blood and alcohol onto the floor by his bed, while the sheets were changed on the bed and the walls wiped down. It was a lot of trouble, but then they had paid a lot of money for the night. The owner of the house was delighted that Hotch was still alive, and hoped for another good night of paying customers.
Hotch was dragged out of the room to a bathroom where he was pushed under a cold shower and watched as the blood washed off Hotch's bruised and battered skin. Hotch crouched like an animal in the corner of the shower tray, his thoughts on Reid, wondering if he was dead, and wishing that he himself was.
-0-0-0-
Dave, Morgan and Emily had come back from the Lodge, despondent and upset that they had missed getting Hotch back by just a few minutes. Instead of going back to the police station, they went to the hospital, where Reid was recovering. He was asleep when they got there, but they were allowed to sit in his room and wait for him to wake up. The only drip he was on now was an antibiotic, to keep the amputation area clean and uninfected. After a few minutes, he began to stir, subconsciously knowing that his friends were there.
He opened his eyes and smiled at his visitors.
'How are you feeling?'
'Footloose.' he grinned. 'You found Hotch then?'
'We are still looking, Spencer.' Dave said. 'We came to see how you are.'
'Getting there.' he said, 'But you should be out there finding Hotch.' he paused. 'What aren't you telling me? He's not dead is he?'
'We don't think so.' Dave said. 'We had a lead which we followed up, but we were too late and he had been moved. Someone shot and killed an off duty cop today, and the precinct is in a turmoil. We are on our own here.'
Reid pushed his hands through his hair.
'What can I do?'
'We need your input, Kiddo. New ideas.'
'I need to know what they took Hotch for in the first place.' Reid said.
'At first it was as an exchange for Curtis, one of their members we have in custody. But when we refused to negotiate, we think Hotch has been kept for the same reason that the other men were kept. But this time, they aren't dumping him to die – at least not yet.'
'Oh my god.' Reid breathed. 'Can't you get out of this Curtis where they could have taken Hotch?'
'He is our last best hope.' Emily said.
-0-0-0-
'Where have they taken Agent Hotchner?' Morgan said. He banged his fists on the table, and Curtis jumped. 'Co operate, if you want to live!'
'Gonna kill me then are you?' Curtis sneered.
'Not me, boy, but rest assured that someone will screw you to the wall where you are going.'
'So what are you going to offer me then to get your queer boy back again?'
Morgan thought he was going to throw up there and then. He took a second to compose himself.
'Man one, and we drop the rape charge, if we get our man back alive, and if we get the rest of your sick gang.'
Morgan was standing, leaning on the table, his nose almost touching Curtis'.
'Let me think about it.' Curtis said.
'You have one hour, damn you.' Morgan left the room and slammed the door.
In the next room, Rossi and Prentiss were watching. The facade dropped as Morgan left the room. Their door opened and Morgan joined them.
'Do you think he'll break?'
'I hope to god he does.' Rossi said. 'Another hour for us could be an eternity to Aaron. I just hope he's strong enough to deal with this.'
'He's strong. He'll survive.' Morgan said.
'I hope you're right.' Emily sighed.
-0-0-0-
Hotch wasn't allowed to dry himself after the shower, but he felt better for being clean. He guessed it wasn't a condition he was going to be allowed to stay in though.
He walked back to the corner, where clean but old and stained towels had been left for him to lay on. The chain was pulled down and re fastened, and he curled up on the towels and tried to sleep. His life was a cycle of abuse, and he needed his strength. The longer he could survive, the more time his team had to find him.
He wrapped his arms around his knees and closed his eyes. He felt like hugging the towels and crying into them, but he had little enough dignity. He needed to hang on to the shred of dignity that he had remaining.
He took one of the towels and tied it around his hips. It was surprising how much better that made him feel. He doubted that he would be allowed to keep it on, but for now it helped. He turned to the bowl of water and drank some, but he refused to touch the food that they had left for him. He sat back against the wall and rocked himself into a fitful sleep where unknown creatures raped him and ripped out his insides. When he woke half an hour later, he was lying in a pool of fresh blood, and he once again wondered if he was going to survive long enough for the team to find him.
He didn't sleep again that day. however tired he was. The nightmares were almost as bad as reality – yet he had a measure of control over reality – the night mares he didn't.
He pulled the towel tightly around him and waited for the next customer.
He wondered why the other men were rejected, even if they got this far. He guessed the time spent in the cellar was training for this, and he had obviously passed the training.
The sound of people talking outside the door cut into his thoughts. There was someone turning the handle.
He crouched down low, and hugged his knees. The pain was about to begin again.
As the door opened, he was surprised to see a woman in the group. They were all holding drinks, and two of them had bottles. the woman went directly to Hotch.
'Hey there, gorgeous, we gonna have some fun together?'
Hotch looked up at her.
'Please..... help me.' he said softly to her.
She pushed him back with her foot and placed her stiletto heel against his eye.
'Only god can help you now.' she said, grinning nastily, and took her foot away from his face. She stood on his hand and ground her heel into the soft flesh. 'Like I said, we are going to have fun together.'
She leaned across him and unlocked the chain. the men were watching her and getting turned on. She pulled Hotch up, and holding his injured hand up his back, marched him over to the bed.
Then the men joined in, holding him face down on the bed and raping him in turns. When they had finished, the bed was awash with blood, and Hotch's face was a mess of blood and tears.
Then the woman took over again. She turned him onto his back and sat astride him. He looked up at her, his eyes pleading with her.
She started to hit him. For a woman she was strong, and Hotch felt skin break as his mouth filled with blood. Clutching his hair, she bit him on the neck and shoulder, drawing blood. He struggled under her, fighting to get away, but the more he fought, the more she liked it, and pulled his hair out in clumps. In the end the men lifted her off him.
'Don't kill him. He's the best we've had here. Save some for another day.'
Hotch turned his head in shame that he had allowed these people to do this to him. But he had learned that fighting got him hurt, and they would take what they want anyway.
His aim at the moment was simply to stay alive until the team found him.
-0-0-0-
'I wasn't really looking. I can't believe we watched the car with Hotch in just drive past us.' Emily was pacing. She never paced.
'Dark green saloon. It's not much to go on, but it's better than nothing.' Dave said. 'Have Penelope come up with a list of all the dark green saloons within tem miles.'
'We have the tyre tracks from the Lodge.' Morgan said. 'I'll get on to the CSU and see what they've come up with. Might cut it down a bit.'
'I should imagine Aaron would have been in the trunk, so it would have to be a larger model.' Dave said.
Morgan was on the phone to the CSU. Yes, they had copies of the tyre tracks, if someone wanted to come down and get them, and any information that they had. Morgan hurried down.
There was only two cars that had those tyres on, Morgan was informed. That was good. It shortened the list greatly. He was also told that the blood trail at the scene was all Agent Hotchner's. That wasn't so good. The blood pools in the cellar were his too. Morgan closed his eyes briefly, trying not to picture the cellar, but picturing it anyway.
He raced back to Garcia's bunker, while telling Dave on the phone what he had found out.
This was a good break. They were closing in.