A/N: Yep, another Snow Day special addition! The snow turned into sleet/freezing rain/general yuck. And since it hasn't gotten above 27 degrees, we're iced in. We are delicate here in the South. It's also easier to drive in snow than drive on ice. This I learned from unfortunate experience.
I hope wherever you are, you are safe, warm, and dry. And if you are so inclined, I'd love to hear what you think of this chapter! Reviews are even better than hot chocolate!
The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief. ~William Shakespeare, Othello
"This is another fine mess you've gotten us into," Leonard said to Jim. They were left wearing only their briefs and tee shirts, courtesy of the four men who grabbed them out of the restaurant, none-too-gently dragging them to the top floor of the Pavilion. They had been taken into the private gym that was part of the privilege of being able to afford the most expense suite in the most expensive hotel in Rahth Mutadaffaq. Upon arrival inside the gym, their abductors demanded that Jim and Leonard strip, allowing them the dignity (at least temporarily) of retaining their underwear.
Once divested of their clothes, they were shoved in two hard chairs, handcuffed together back to back, Jim's right wrist fastened to Leonard's right, and their left wrists similarly bound. That made it virtually impossible for them to move or stand, and reduced their chance of escape by a considerable margin.
At the moment, they were alone in the sterile, over lit gym. The four men were in the hallway, discussing the situation and the next steps. So far, they hadn't asked Jim or Leonard any questions, which made Jim a little nervous. They had been captured for a reason. What that reason might turn out to be made Jim's stomach clinch.
"You think they know who we are?" Leonard asked Jim quietly.
"Chances are good," Jim admitted. "I doubt we were selected randomly."
"I sure hope Wajeeha is safe," Leonard said.
"I'm sure Kameer got her out. He's very clever that way," Jim said, watching the four men enter the gym and approach them. The shortest one was presumably in charge. He wore the same black and purple thobes as did his companions, his the most elaborately adorned. Either he was particularly vain or he was in charge.
"Tell me what you are doing here," In Charge Man demanded, standing in front of Leonard.
"I don't speak Arabic," Leonard responded, staring up at the man. His answer got him backhanded. "Hitting me doesn't help. I still don't understand Arabic." The man backhanded him again for good measure before rounding them to stand in front of Jim, leaving Leonard with a split lip.
"What are you doing here?" the man demanded of Jim, silently daring him to deny his ability to speak Arabic.
"That's not your business," Jim responded in perfect Arabic, the leader frowning even more before making his displeasure physical by backhanding Jim.
"You are in my country. You are violating several treaties. That makes it my business."
"I'm not violating anything," Jim informed him. "I'm here to marry Wajeeha. In two days."
"You aren't marrying anyone. The real Wajeeha is in Bahegmha Smhasahe. You are here for other reasons and you will tell me what they are."
"My only purpose in coming here is to marry Wajeeha. If the woman with whom I've been spending all of my time is not my fiancée, someone has a lot of explaining to do."
"You have a lot of explaining to do, Mr. Kirk. Like how you thought your involvement with the Consortium would remain a secret."
"What's a consortium?" Jim asked with wide innocent blue eyes.
"Your lies will do you no good. Telling me the truth may spare your life. And that of your friend."
"I have told you the truth. I'm here to marry Wajeeha. If you believe me here for other reasons, you are mistaken."
"Why do you speak perfect Arabic if you are not with the Consortium?"
"I'm a linguist. I have my PhD in mid-eastern languages, among others," Jim explained.
"Why would the heir to the Bahegmha Smhasahe wish to marry a Westerner? Do you intend to live in America?" the man asked, making America the most vilest of curses.
"For half the year. The other half we will live in Bahegmha Smhasahe. I can write anywhere. And I met her when I was here studying for my doctorate. Love at first sight," Jim said with a romantic smile. The angry man backhanded Jim, Jim not reacting at all to the impact. "Hitting me doesn't change the truth."
"You are not telling the truth. And I will resort to much worse if you do not stop with the lies."
"I cannot stop lies I'm not telling," Jim informed him. He felt some short-lived satisfaction when the leader glanced over at the other three men with a look of vague exasperation on his face. There was a quick, angry exchange in Arabic, most of which Jim understood but did not let the fact show on his face. This was not going to go well for him and he was glad that Bones did not speak Arabic. That kept him unaware of all the nefarious, scary plans they had for Jim. He doubted he would survive their abuse from the way they were talking. The idea of dying didn't scare him particularly. Mostly he was disappointed about chances not taken. Paths not followed. Decisions not made - or that could no longer be changed. Well – Bones knew he loved him. That's what was really most important. And if they ended up killing him, surely they would release Bones. He would do them no good.
He remained impassive as two of the henchmen released him from the handcuffs, securing Bones to the chairs.
"Wait. What are you doing?" Bones demanded, looking up at the men. His only answer was a fist impacting his jaw, splitting his bottom lip to match his already bleeding top lip. He turned in his seat to watch two of the men fasten chains around Jim's wrists before securing the free ends to two pieces of heavy weight lifting equipment, ensuring he could not and would not move. Bones caught Jim's eyes which were calm and clear blue. If he was worried or scared, Bones could not tell.
When Jim was strung up from his wrists, barely able to balance on his toes, the Leader approached him, staring up at him.
"Now is an excellent time for you to give us the truth," the Leader demanded.
"I have given you the truth," Jim returned calmly. He barely flinched when the tallest of the henchmen punched him in the solar plexus. That he was gasping for air was not readily apparent to the men watching him.
"Perhaps you are ready to amend your answer," the leader suggested firmly.
Jim shook his head, inhaling as deeply as he could. The room was vaguely swimming but he was not going to make it obvious to the other men. Bones was silently impressed at Jim's control. Any other man would be doubled over as much as the restraints would allow, sucking in air.
"Where is your witty response now?"
"It will hardly matter what I say," Jim said, his voice as firm as it had been the entire time. This earned him another punch in the gut which left him completely breathless, his difficultly in breathing evident to all of them. Before he had recovered, the man behind him punched him in the kidney making Jim jerk backward. That would leave a mark.
"The truth, Mr. Kirk," the leader demanded. One of the henchmen grabbed Jim by the hair and jerked his head up so that he had no choice but look the leader in the eye. "The truth."
"I am telling the truth," Jim said when he had enough air in his lungs to speak. That was not the answer they wanted and henchmen released his hair to hit him again in the kidney. Crap that hurt. But he kept the pain off his face.
"If you are just a writer planning to marry a princess, why are you so adept at taking punishment?" the leader asked, his fists on his hips in anger.
"Hearty stock," Jim said. He learned that was the wrong answer when the leader cuffed his head with a ring encrusted hand, splitting his scalp. And as head wounds always do, the cut bled profusely, very quickly soaking the neck and right shoulder of Jim's tee shirt.
"Bind it," the leader ordered. "We do not want blood on the carpeting."
One the henchmen obeyed by ripping off Jim's half soaked tee-shirt and wrapping it tightly around Jim's skull.
"Thanks," Jim said cheekily, earning himself another blow to his midsection. At least this one didn't leave him gasping for air. The next punch, however, felt suspiciously painful in a sharp, piercing kind of way that he had learned to associate with cracked ribs. Oh crap. Bones is going to kill me was his only thought in response. The blows became too rapid and numerous to think of separately, the pain building up in every area of his body. His eyes were nearly swollen shut from the blows, blood dripping from his nose and the corners of his mouth.
Through the pain-filled haze, he heard the men demanding the same information from Leonard, threatening him with the same treatment if he did not tell them what they wanted to know. Their threats were useless since Leonard didn't speak Arabic. Yet they were determined to shout at him in only their native tongue.
"Louder ain't clearer," Jim heard Bones say. Typical Bones Jim thought fondly as darkness started creeping in from the edges of his vision. The pain was winning. There were bright white streaks across the darkness, his own personal shooting stars. That was new. Did it mean he really was dying? Or maybe he had a concussion? Hard to know when pain and blackness were his only reality.
He made an attempt to look at Bones' cherished face, in case it was the last time he ever saw him. Bones looked surprisingly calm although understandably worried. That he hadn't said a word of protest while Jim was being beaten spoke well of Bones' training. Jim's final thought before the darkness won was he really is an extraordinary person.
~o0o~
"Mike Sierra to Juliet Kilo. Mike Sierra to Juliet Kilo or Lima Mike. Come in," Scotty said for the fifth time, waiting impatiently for a response.
"It is unlikely they will respond," Spock said evenly.
"I know," Scotty snapped in impatience. "We may be too late."
"As I am aware," Spock said with more calm than he felt. "Have you attempted to raise Sam Giotto or Kameer Bouhadi?"
"Sam doesn't answer," Scotty said, picking up the comm again. "Mike Sierra to Kilo Bravo. Come in Kilo Bravo."
To their immense relief, Kameer responded. "This is Kilo Bravo."
"Thank the Lord," Scotty said. "Where are you?"
"Rendezvous Bunker Hill," Kameer said. "What is your ETA?"
"12 minutes," Scotty relayed. "What is your situation?"
"I have Wajeeha. Sierra Foxtrot is with us as well," Kameer told him.
"Sierra Foxtrot?" Scotty repeated, mentally reviewing the agents he knew to be assigned to this part of the world. "Ahh… right. Everyone is safe?"
"We are. We think hostiles have Juliet and Lima," Kameer said evenly.
"Sierra Golf?" Scotty asked.
"Unknown," Kameer responded. "Are you coming here?"
"We are," Scotty agreed.
"We?" Kameer repeated.
"Aye. Aye'll explain when we arrive. I suggest we maintain radio silence until then."
"Roger that," Kameer responded.
Scotty nodded, glancing over at Spock who looked composed but as worried as a Vulcan ever did. That the 'hostiles' had Jim was clearly a concern to him. And Scotty understood the feeling of helplessness that was overtaking the other man.
They remained wrapped in their own thoughts as Scotty flew directly to Bunker Hill. He was willing to take the risk of alerting air control in Rahth Mutadaffaq of their arrival. At this point, they weren't particularly concerned about who may or may not know of their presence.
Scotty landed soundless behind the rock out-cropping that hid the rendezvous entrance. When all of the landing checks were made, he opened the door, leading Spock out into the desert surrounding them. It was 21 kilometers to the nearest town, no roads for another 5 kilometers. Between the shuttle and the cave entrance was the 4x4 that could take them into the city.
As they approached the entrance, they spotted Kameer standing just outside the cave, a large gun pointed directly at them.
"Stand down," Scotty said.
"Who's this?" Kameer demanded, waving his gun at Spock.
"Spock. Son of Sarek. Grandson of T'Pau," Spock said for himself.
"Of course," Kameer said with a nod. "Sorry about the less than hospitable greeting."
"It is understandable," Spock assured him, following him and Scotty into the relative coolness of the cave.
"This is Selema Robau Asad and Samantha Faulkner," Kameer said, mostly for Spock's benefit. Scotty knew Selema and knew of Samantha though they had not previously met.
"What's the situation?" Scotty asked, addressing all of them.
"From what the men who intercepted us in the shop said, we think that Jim and Leonard are in the penthouse. We don't know where Sam Giotto is. He was in the restaurant with Jim and Leonard when Selema and I left," Kameer said, glancing at Selema to see if she had any other information.
"Who was the target?" Scotty asked.
"We think Jim," Selema said. "They didn't try particularly hard to find me."
"I concur," Kameer said. "The ones in the shop were focused on the Consortium. They didn't think I was connected."
"That is logical," Spock said. "They apparently knew of the plan to remove Sheik Jmhanahe Wahenrha-Grhadrha in favor of Sheik Siraj Khalil-Gheisari."
"And how do you know about that?" Samantha demanded, fists on her hips.
Spock simply looked back at her, no other answer forthcoming.
"That hardly matters," Scotty said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Have you communicated with Qudamah?"
"We haven't been able to reach him," Selema said.
"We need to contact Chris," Scotty said, taking out his comm. Making sure his signal was appropriately scrambled, he entered Chris' contact information. It took a few tense minutes before he responded.
"This is Charlie Papa. Go ahead."
"Hostiles have Juliet Kilo and Lima Mike. No word on Sierra Golf. Sierra Alpha and Kilo Bravo are secure. Qudamah is unreachable so we turned to you."
"Roger that. Is Sierra of Victor there?"
"Roger that. Sierra Foxtrot is here also."
There was a pause and they tried to wait as patiently as possible. "What is your current location?"
"Bunker Hill," Scotty told him.
"Roger that," Chris said. "There is reason to believe that a rat has gotten into the corn."
"Our thoughts exactly," Scotty agreed. "How should we proceed?"
"Retrieve Juliet and Lima. Collateral damage is to be expected."
"Are we still over-turning the big chair?" Scotty asked.
"Negative. We need to secure the corn first."
"Once we have our brothers, we will proceed to Bahegmha Smhasahe?"
"I will be there in an hour and a half. I will alert the medics to expect injuries."
"Copy that. Mike Sierra out."
"Good luck. Charlie Papa out."
"What are we going to do now?" Selema asked Scotty, including everyone else.
"May I offer a suggestion?" Spock asked, everyone focusing on him. At their silence, he continued. "I will enter the Pavilion and demand that I be given the penthouse. In the ensuing chaos, you can ascend to the top floor and retrieve our… friends."
"Aye," Scotty said, taking out his comm. "Sierra Mike to Papa Charlie. Come in Papa Charlie."
There was a brief delay before they received a response. "This is Hotel Sierra. Can I help?"
"We need Papa Charlie to hack a computer system," Scotty explained.
"Copy that. Stand by," Hikaru said. There was another brief delay until Pavel's voice responded.
"This is Papa Charlie."
"We need you to reserve the Emirates Pavilion penthouse for Sierra of Victor starting yesterday," Scotty explained.
"Da," Pavel agreed. "Copy that. Give me six minutes."
"Roger that. Contact when accomplished. Mike out." Scotty focused on the others. "We'll land the shuttle on the helicopter pad. By the time they realize what's going on, it will be too late."
"Right right," Kameer agreed.
"I will drive the vehicle into the city," Spock said.
Selema shook her head briefly at that. "You need an …ostentatious car. You must arrive in style."
"I agree," Samantha said. "We have a Rolls at Rendezvous Seagull. I'll come with you."
Spock did not respond but silently appraised her clothing.
"I didn't say I'd come to the Pavilion," Samantha said with a mix of exasperation and humor. "Just to the rendezvous."
"Very well," Spock said.
"What will you do then?" Selema asked her.
"Drive the ATV into town," Samantha said.
"I'd feel better if you went in with him," Kameer said to Samantha. "Spock's not a trained professional."
"Do you have other apparel which would be appropriate for those renting the penthouse?" Spock asked her.
She considered that. "Yes. Or Montgomery could go as your bodyguard slash chauffer."
"Aye, that'll work," Scotty said. "And you are certified to pilot the shuttle."
"I am. Do you know where Rendezvous Seagull is?" Samantha asked.
At Scotty's negative response, Samantha explained how to get there and where to find the car. "I will alert Seagull that you are coming. A chauffer outfit?"
"Aye. That'll do it," Scotty said. He activated his comm when it beeped. "Mike Sierra."
"Sierra of Victor has the penthouse for two veeks beginning yesterday," Pavel said.
"Roger that. Appreciate your help," Scotty said.
"Anything else ve can do for you?" Pavel asked, his concern coming across the miles.
"Stay in contact with Charlie Papa. He'll know."
"Copy that," Pavel said. "Charlie out."
"Mike out," Scotty said, disconnecting. "It will take 12 minutes for us to get Seagull. 10 minutes to change. 8 minutes to arrive at the Pavilion. Plan to land on the helicopter pad in 36 minutes."
"Right," Samantha agreed. "36 minutes."
"You ready?" Scotty asked Spock. Spock nodded, following Scotty to the ATV. He reluctantly donned the helmet Scotty gave him, pretending he did not feel ridiculous wearing it. But as the ATV was open to the sky and elements, he completely understood the reasoning behind the precaution.