Title: 500 Minutes
Chapter 5 – Time is Ticking
A/N: A special thanks to fanfictionfan63, noname, Karma, flashpointfreakaddict. I cannot personally thank you through the review system b/c you either don't have an account or you have messaging disabled, but I want to thank you so much for reading and reviewing – most appreciated. And a BIG THANK YOU to everyone who has left encouraging feedback so far, it's really meant a lot and I hope to continue to hear from you as we go forward.
Okay think Spike…gotta get a message to the team but how…
"Time to go Spike," David smiles as he swivels around in the front seat and looks at Spike, the gun now freshly clutched in his grasp. "Ready to do your job?"
Spike merely holds his gaze before Annabelle diverts it, drawing a slight sigh from David's pursed lips. "Remember Spike, time is ticking. You have…" he looks at his watch and then back up at Spike, "well let's keep it a mystery for now shall we? But think on this, the last poor fellow that failed me…I flayed - alive," David winks. "Horrible way to die…slow…and very painful. I enjoyed it but I doubt he did. Come Annabelle, bring our golden boy."
Spike's fists automatically tighten as David nears him, his lips uttering a muffled curse under the tape gag when David slaps him on the shoulder and just snickers. But his tension starts to rise once more as David nears his left ear and leans in closer; his hand resting on the crudely bandaged wound on his right thigh that he had made earlier.
"This," David hisses as he gives Spike's wound a firm squeeze, forcing Spike's eyes to automatically mist and his teeth to clench, "was just a small appetizer of what is going to happen, should you fail to get me my money." His hand pulls back and Spike finally feels himself swallow as David stomps angrily toward the back and then pushes the doors open.
"Bring him Annabelle, and don't forget our deal."
With the gag still firmly in place, Spike tells himself to try to drown out Annabelle's false comforting words and try to concentrate on getting a fix on his location.
Shipyards...airport?…David had slipped up when he mentioned that earlier and the drive from that turnoff when he tried to flip the wheelchair wasn't that long; they were down by the docks. But which end? And where? The waterfront wasn't exactly a small place to search.
But then his foggy brain thinks back to a somewhat whispered discussion that David and Annabelle had in the front seat. He had heard plane tickets and a private plane waiting once the deal was done. He'd concentrate on the deal in a bit. Plane? It was too quiet around the outside to be close to Pearson. Toronto Island Airport? Would make sense. So if he was to go with that he still had to figure out a way to get a message to the team.
"Stop looking Spike," Annabelle whispers. "You'll only anger David further. You are safe…for now."
Since he was unable to audibly say screw you, his mind offers it to Annabelle before he goes about his task in trying to get at least something he could recognize to help him pinpoint his location; a landmark, a sound, a smell…anything to help him secure his future instead of sealing his fate.
Then he heard it, the sound of a small plane overhead. It had to be Toronto Island Airport. However, his few seconds of relief are short lived when a small scraping sound is heard to the left, quickly diverting his attention.
"This him?" Another strange man asks as he looks at Spike with a small narrowed gaze through this black rimmed glasses. Spike feels his world starting to close in around him further, tightening the chances of him being able to get a message to the team unnoticed. He would need a diversion. But how?
"Everything set up?" David ignores the question and asks his own instead.
"It will be in five minutes," Joe answers as David walks up to Spike.
David roughly yanks the tape off Spike's lips and snickers and then walks past, tossing the piece of tape on the cold cement floor. Spike's fists angrily try in vain to pull themselves free of the tight wrist restraints but to no avail. Damn it, he curses inwardly, his eyes frantically searching the area he was now trapped in. His gaze comes to rest up on the table a few meters ahead and then stop to examine it. There was a computer and a bunch of electronic devices already set up; no need to analyze them further as he knew already what they were for. IP bouncers, fake firewalls, a super computer and a few other things that would make sending out a viable message near impossible. But just to the side of one of the computers was a small phone. If he could get to it and at least try to dial 911. His team might be able to intercept the call…or better yet a text? Something…
His thoughts were interrupted by Annabelle's fingers resting on his cheek and moving lower to where some overnight stubble was starting to take shape. "You know you only get one chance at this right?" She asks in a low tone.
"Annabelle are you doing this willingly or does he have something on you?" Spike tries, hoping desperately to have at least one possible ally on his side in this nightmare.
"I'm doing this for the money Spike," she replies in a cool tone. "Sorry…it was just business."
"So your family?"
"Part…part of that was true," she answers in a near dead whisper.
"What aren't you telling me? What does he have on you?"
"Spike…"
"Please tell me Annabelle."
"Enough to keep me here no matter what."
"My team…they can help you."
"Spike enough for now. Just keep your voice down okay?"
"Annabelle, I don't want to die, but I can't break into…"
"You have to Spike, you really have to."
"So basically anything I say no one is gonna listen to right?"
"All we want to hear is you did it or else. David has a time frame, if you don't get it done by then he'll kill you…slowly and painfully."
"Annabelle…"
"Spike, there were others but you said you could do this. I heard you…we both heard you."
"I was drunk and…"
"Just make it happen…or else."
"Right," Spike slightly swallows and then pulls his gaze away from her and looks at the backs of the two men hovering around the table. The phone was still there, maybe it was possible. They had to free his hands to allow him to work. Could he also request some privacy? If he could at least ensure that they wouldn't just hover around him the entire time…all he would need is a few seconds…ten seconds to send out…
"Spike…are you ready?" David turns to him with a small sneer before he pulls the gun and nears him once more.
"David…"
"Shut it Annabelle!" David hisses. "I just want to ensure that our dear Spike here knows exactly how serious I really am."
"I know…I know," Spike retorts in haste, drawing a small snicker from his captor.
"Good. Let's just reinforce that thought shall we?"
XXXXXXXX
"Alright boss, we're gonna seal off this room and get the forensic team…"
"Ed looking for prints in a hotel room is like looking for a needle in a haystack," Sam pipes up over the headset.
"I know it's a long shot but we gotta take every shot. Wordy and I," Ed pauses and then looks over at his friend who was still transfixed on the bloody smear and then continues, "will head back to the security room to see if we can get a facial ID on our two kidnappers."
"Copy that," Greg's heavy sigh is heard.
"Hey…you with me?"
"Yeah," Wordy replies as he follows after Ed, both of them hurrying toward the elevator and back down to the security room.
"We'll find him Wordy," Ed tries to assure his friend and partner as they near the room.
Wordy stops Ed from walking, his hand firmly gripping his arm as both of them lock eyes. "If that was my blood in there and you were responsible for pushing me into something, how do you think you'd feel right now? Casual?"
"I'm not casual, but you are emotional enough for both of us. Spike went into this willingly. If you had said no, he probably wouldn't have listened. He's a grown man Wordy and you are not to blame for this. I need to stay calm for both of us."
"Thank you Oprah," Wordy groans as he pushes past Ed into the security room.
"I like Dr. Phil better," Ed retorts as he too enters the room. "Okay so we need to see the rest of that footage."
"Yes Sir," the security tech answers as he starts up the feed once again. Both Ed and Wordy watch as the hallway is clear, the tech fast forwarding until a man appears off the elevator pushing a car and then knocks on the door.
"Can we track where he came from and who he is?"
"That man isn't one of mine," the hotel manager pipes up.
"How can you tell?"
"The um…tattoo on the hand. And besides I know which kitchen staff worked room service last night and it wasn't any of our male waiters."
"I don't even want not know why," Ed groans as he starts to talk to Greg and Troy, wanting to get an ID on the tattoo. Wordy continues with the rest of the footage around Spike's room. "Okay they are working on an ID."
"This guy drops the food and then leaves," Wordy relays as he looks back down at the tech. "And then he comes back with a wheelchair."
"Damn it," Ed curses. "That's how they got Spike out of here. Anything on our waiter?"
"Workin' on it," Troy's voice is heard.
"Work faster," Wordy's tense request although soft is heard by all.
Both of them then watch with much horror as Spike's unconscious frame is wheeled out of the room and toward the freight elevator.
"Okay standby, we might have a plate and make to give you Winnie," Ed tells the team.
Wordy can only shake his head and tighten his fists, wondering where Spike was shot and if that was his blood. But as he studies the rest of the footage he spies a small dark spot on Spike's unmoving thigh, he knows that the gunman probably meant it as a warning shot as Spike fought back. A shot that was obviously silenced. They enter the elevator and are finally followed out into the parking lot where a black van is seen waiting.
"Can you zoom in on the plates?"
"Yup…hold on a sec."
"Okay we got a plate," Wordy tells Troy who quickly enters the Ontario plate into the database.
"Registered to an Oliver Zales. But he reported it stolen two days ago."
"Sam, Jules, go and talk to Oliver. Maybe he remembers something," Greg instructs.
"Copy that," Sam replies firmly.
"Anything on that ID yet Troy?"
"Database is still searching for the man and woman," he answers with a small sigh, echoing the tension that every team member was feeling over their missing friend. "The images are fuzzy."
"Boss in the meantime Wordy and I are going to talk to the kitchen staff. Hotel manager said they are just coming off night shift. Maybe they can tell us something else while we are waiting."
"If he could get a message to us he will," Wordy mentions in an undertone, mostly for his own peace of mind.
"Spike, is a smart guy and trained to think on his feet in a tense situation like any of us."
"Yeah but how many of us wake up to find the woman we slept with the night before now has us kidnapped for whatever reason?"
"Shelly doesn't do that?" Ed winks and Wordy's face slightly eases.
"Sophie ever shoot you?"
"Okay so emotions are involved and tensions are high. Thankfully for Spike, it wasn't long enough for him to really get attached to this girl. He'll get that message to us," Ed tries to assure his friend.
"Wish we knew what the hell they wanted," Wordy mutters under his breath. But inside his own mind, he wasn't sure what condition Spike was in or what they even wanted him for. If it was a ransom, a demand of any kind was usually made within twenty-four hours of the person being taken. They still hadn't heard from the people that kidnapped Spike so that feeling of impending doom was still there; they had nothing to reason about or bargain with. Unless they got an ID they were stuck.
"Come on Troy…"
"Still a few more names to search," Troy answers words anxious request. "One more minute."
"We don't have one more minute," Wordy snaps impatiently, drawing a few stares from the frightened kitchen ladies. "Sorry," he slightly frowns and then goes back to talking to them.
"Okay so I think I got a match. The picture from the basement was kinda fuzzy but it looks like the guy's name is David Parks. I'm checking for alias's now. Yeah there are a few and I'll run them as well. His last known address was in Vancouver but he hasn't lived there for about five years. After he left Vancouver in 2006…there is no known address."
"Great so this guy just disappears and then reappears like Houdini again to kidnap Spike for no reason? There has to be more to it," Ed demands. "Is there any personal connection with Spike?"
"None," Troy answers in haste.
"Cross reference gives us David Lambert and…oh."
"Boss?"
"He's got a closed file by the FBI," Troy breaks into the conversation.
"The FBI?" Wordy inquires.
"And a few other federal agencies on both sides of the border. This guy is bad news and is wanted here and in the States. I'll see what if I can get these files opened," Greg informs his team.
"Jules and I are here with Mr. Zales. He says that he listed the van for sale and a man with red hair came by to look at but he could swear that the man who stole it had black hair because he got a glimpse of him just as he drove away."
"But he confirmed the hand tattoo was the same. Said the man tried to cover it but he got a look before he covered it up completely," Jules explains.
"Great so a master of disguise," Wordy mentions. "But that still doesn't tell us why he wants Spike. Anything on Chloe Smith?"
"Still working on her, but he has a few female associates linked to him, one of them an Annabelle Chloe Garden. Her file is also locked and Sergeant Parker is working on getting them opened. But both of them have murder, kidnapping and computer hacking and online thefts listed as their bad deeds. David a bit more with excessive force and few other violence related charges."
"Okay so computer theft. Starting to make a bit more sense in at least why they may have targeted Spike," Ed tells the team.
"Yeah they kidnap Spike to hack into something they obviously don't have the skills to do themselves," Sam pipes up.
"Or don't want to get caught for," Jules adds. "My guess would be a big fat bank account and transfer whatever funds into their own private Swiss bank account."
"Or somewhere in south america...somewhere with no extradition to Canada. But these two are also wanted in the US so that could narrow our destination list a bit."
"Either way, when Spike doesn't give them what they want, and after seeing that blood spray, those excessive violence charges are going to come to the fore," Wordy explains in a grave tone.
"And we don't even know where to start looking," Sam continues. "They could have taken him anywhere."
"Okay so I was able to get some of the files unlocked, Troy is working on the rest," Greg's voice breaks into the discussion. "Yeah it helps to have friends in very high places."
"Guess those low ones weren't workin' for ya," Sam smirks.
"Boss?"
"David's last file was a kidnapping charge in New York State. Apparently he and a female accomplice kidnapped a Canadian computer guy named, Jake Barfoot in Niagra Falls and took him to Manhattan, which is why his file is showing up in our database. His body was found…flayed," Greg's voice pauses, adding eerie silence to the grim picture that was already growing about Spike's fate. "Among other things. This guy died a very painful death."
"Oh god," Wordy lightly curses.
"The pictures are very grisly. But this wasn't an isolated incident. In the past five years, there have been a string of grisly murders all with this guy's MO. But he was never caught. Always leaving the body and then disappearing."
"Also in each picture the number 500 has been carved somewhere on the body," Troy adds.
"500?" Jules asks with a small gasp. "Do we even want to guess what that means?"
"No need. And no it's not a body count," Greg joins back in. "According to the notes in the files, it's the time that the person was reported missing until he was found dead. There were two that weren't reported missing but were still carved with the same 500 brand as the others. Guess they all failed."
"Damn this sick bastard," Sam's angry curse is also heard.
"500 minutes? That's just over eight hours," Ed looks at his watch.
"Right so when the hell do we start counting? Because if it's when that guy brought up…" Wordy's voice trails off.
"My guess would be when Spike was taken out of this hotel. Maybe they give them that long to try to hack into whatever…" Greg starts only to be interrupted by Wordy. "Either way they have a good head start on us and timing is running out for Spike."
"Do we know what these guys were supposed to hack into?"
"Well here is the really bad news…the Federal Reserve."
"What?" A collective question in shock is heard over the airwaves.
"But that's impossible," Troy's voice is heard. "No one can hack into that."
"Oh no…that's it…oh damn," Wordy curses as he turns and heads toward the elevator. "I should have told him to back off."
"Wordy wait up," Ed calls after his friend as he hurries behind him.
"Guys what's going on?" Greg asks in a small panic.
"Wordy," Ed calls to his friend. "Talk to me man, what do you know?"
"This...this could have been prevented."
"Wordy," Ed tries again.
"At the bar…at Lou's, Spike was bragging to me about some geek day that…"
"The annual convention. Yeah I was there," Troy interrupts.
"And Spike won right?" Wordy continues.
"Yeah took top marks in the class. He was pretty jazzed up about it too."
"Can someone tell me how this is relevant?" Ed counters, making Wordy turn and face him directly.
"Chloe overheard Spike bragging to me about hacking into the Federal Reserve at the bar. Only it was a training room he hacked into, it looked real on Spike's end but it wasn't. But he didn't mention that at the bar; only in the locker room. It sounded cool and we weren't exactly quiet about it after having a few beers. Lou knew we were joking..."
"But she didn't and if he's drunk and bragging about it to her…"
"Then she sees this as their golden ticket and calls in David," Jules finishes Sam's sentence.
"I knew she wasn't on the up and up," Wordy growls at his own bad judgment.
"Wordy, you couldn't have known any of this, none of us could, least of all Spike."
"Right well either way the clock is ticking against Spike. And what happens when they find out he can't hack into the Federal Reserve?" Wordy asks rhetorically.
None of them had to answer, they all knew what it was – their friend and team member would be dead.
XXXXXXXX
Spike squeezes his eyes and takes a deep breath. David's silenced gun had opened another small sliver of flesh, this one on his upper right arm, thankfully not doingany nerve damage but sending enough of a point that this too was merely the amuse bouche for the real painful main course that was awaiting should he fail them in any way.
The awful truth of the matter was, he was going to fail – at least in their initial request. Hacking into the most secure government facility on the planet was impossible but he had to act fast before the rest of David's wrath was unleashed and this would be the last company he spent time with before his time was up.
"Good, now that we understand ourselves," David hisses in Spike's ear. "Time to get me my money."
"Our money, right David?"
"Shut up Joe," David retorts angrily as he pushes Spike up toward the desk and stops him a few feet from the table.
"No...I don't think so," Joe shouts back.
"You know you have been testy all morning Joe."
"Don't I have reason?" Joe argues back as he nears David, but still a few meters away from Spike and the table with the phone on it.
David's fingers rest on the right hard restraint, toying with it a few seconds before finally undoing it and then the left, allowing Spike to rub some feeling back into his tender and chaffed wrists.
"Warm your hands Spike, you have two minutes."
Two minutes and his angry captor's back was turned that was all he would need to get the phone! However, at this point it didn't seem like it would happen. Spike pushes past the searing sensation in his upper right arm, his very life was at stake; anything a mere band-aide could fix would be dwelt on later.
As Spike listens to them argue, he feels his own impending doom starting to descend up on him and suffocate him, laughing at his helpless situation. He was still strapped to the wheelchair but didn't care, all he needed was a small distraction to get the phone left so carelessly lying before him. Would he get that opportunity? It didn't seem like it, David's attention was on him like a hawk.
But then destiny pushes fate aside and decides to intervene for a few precious seconds.
"Keep your voice down you fool," David growls.
"You know you have been saying me and mine all day now but never in reference to anybody but yourself! Both Annabelle and I are entitled to that money, David," Joe barks in anger. "You aren't the only one involved in all this! For the past five…"
"Joe back down."
"Stay out of this Annabelle," Joe snaps. "For the past five years you have been promising us delusions of grandeur. Kidnapping these computer geeks you say can get us untold wealth. So far all I have is a pocket full of lint and a rap sheet as long as the damn road behind me. So I am pissed! Don't tell me to keep my voice down again. I want MY money!"
"Oh trust me Joe, you'll get what's coming to you."
"I have had enough of your BS. I want.."
"Do you know the last man that crossed me Joseph Find?"
"You don't scare me David Queen. I want what's mine!"
"Trust me you'll get what's coming to you," David snarls as he leaves Spike's side and marches up to Joe.
"David no," Annabelle growls. "Joe…"
"In fact…I'll give you an advance right now."
"Bring it you arrogant prick."
"Oh I shall."
And before anyone could react, David pulls out a sharp buck knife and slices into Joe's large femoral artery, holding his dying commrade a few seconds, before turning back just in time to see Spike place the phone back on the table. Anger flashing in his black soulless orbs as he heads for the helpless SRU team member.
A/N: Okay so sorry for the evil cliffe (well for those that know me know that's what Alice loves the most hehe) of course my beloved Spike won't die and they still need him alive, but do you think David saw? Did a message get out? Will the team find him in time? Hope you are all still liking this and stay tuned for more. Please review and thanks in advance.