A/N: sorry...my updating was much slower than i anticipated...seems when i have nothing important to do, i don't write as much...but then with school work to do, all i do is write...good news for the story is school starts up again this week, so on with procrastinating! thank you all for your reviews, again, i really appreciate them and they make me laugh quite often...hope you like this chapter!
The four older brothers had a hard time holding their poker faces; all extremely proud, and a little worried, that Alan could hold a straight face for the lie.
Jeff, however, coughed into his hand, I don't whether to be proud Alan just held a perfect poker face or to be worried about him doing it so well while lying to an FBI agent…note to self, no more poker with the boys.
Sufern held Alan's look, "I could insist. I need to know all of your injuries inflicted by the suspect."
"Then you don't need to see this one," Alan returned, "I did it to myself."
"Are you protecting 'Billy'?"
"No," Alan growled, "I just don't want you to pry into my life anymore."
Sufern gave a curt nod, "Fine, what happened after you broke the cup?"
"He cleaned it and bandaged it, along with my wrists and ankles. I ate another sandwich, this time on my own, 'cause I wasn't tied up," Alan' voice was flat again, "Then called Scott."
"Why Scott?" Sufern made the mistake of looking at said brother, who was giving him a cold look.
"Because only one person would be able to talk to me, and I hadn't talked to Scott," Alan said looking at his oldest brother with a small smile; which was returned, "He needed to tell Dad about the blind bid."
"Which I know about," Sufern said deciding to skip going into detail on that, "Then what? You had two hours before the next scheduled bid, which turned into a rerun, at least five hours of off camera time. What happened?" Sufern questioned.
"Let's see," Alan began a little sarcastic, "There was another bathroom break, like the last, but I wasn't cuffed before or after. Then I almost fell asleep in the bathroom…and sorta remember being carried then put on the bed," Alan said thinking back, and losing the sarcasm, "Billy cuffed my ankle, but that was it. I don't know how long I slept, but Billy insisted that I couldn't sleep more."
"What did you do after your nap?" Sufern continued writing notes.
"Took a walk," Alan frowned in thought, "Then he looked at my hand again...he had me tied to the chair again around my chest. Then he put stuff on the marks from the shocking…" Alan involuntarily shivered, still not liking how Billy had rubbed the cream in, "He said he needed me to look as healthy as possible, and the cream would do that."
"What do the marks look like, because those were inflicted by the suspect," Sufern cut into Alan's recounting of events.
Alan only rolled up his right sleeve, "Like this one, but I am not taking my shirt off to show you the others."
Sufern was going to say something, but Scott beat him to it, "And if you even think of asking him to…this conversation will not only be over, but so will your career in the FBI," he didn't even try to hide the threat, and Sufern figured that it wasn't an empty one either.
"Alright," Sufern moved on, "What next?"
"We…and when I say 'we' I really mean Billy," Alan clarified, "Played a board game…Billy said it was The Game of Life, but it could have been Parcheesi for all I know. Then I lay on the bed, while Billy packed, at least that's what I figured he was doing…'cause still couldn't see."
"Were your hands tied?"
"No, but my ankle was cuffed to the bed again," Alan replied easily.
"And you never took the blindfold off while you had the use of your hands?" Sufern asked, wondering to himself if Alan had Stockholm's or something.
"No," Alan looked down, "I didn't."
"That's alright, Sprout," John murmured in Alan's ear, so only Alan heard him, "Just like before, it was safer not to. Don't let Sufern make you think any differently, okay?"
Alan nodded and gave a small smile to the only other blonde in the family, "Doing that would mean uncomfortable results…and I was still shirtless, and so didn't really feel like going there."
"Any conversations while 'Billy' possibly packed?"
"He looked at my hand…again and thought it was infected. Then told me the final bid would be going in soon…didn't tell me the bid," Alan looked curiously at his father.
"Sorry, Alan," Jeff answered the unspoken question, "Only Brains and I know the value. You don't need to know."
Alan nodded, not really minding being kept in the dark on that one, "Had another sandwich," Alan continued where he left off, "Then Billy said it was time to part ways and what not."
"How did he leave you?"
Alan shook his head at the returning memories, "He…uh…He warned me I wasn't going to like the next bit…and if I fought back he would drug me. But the drug was a paralytic, I think he called it, and I wouldn't be able to move, but would know what was happening, and the effects could last for a while. So I did what he said, just wasn't happy about doing it."
"What did you do?"
Alan let out a long breath, "He directed me into a chest and sat me down. Then he tied my hands and feet, and they were connected with another rope," some tears started to prick Alan's eyes, but blinked them away, "Then he wanted the gag again. I wouldn't open my mouth, so he pinched my nose. I couldn't breathe, or get him to let go, I had to open my mouth. When I did, he put the gag in, and then closed the chest. I tried kicking it open and getting out of the ropes, but moving hurt my hand. So I had to wait for whoever was getting me to get me. How long was I in there?" Alan looked at Scott.
Scott clenched his jaw, and breathed through his nose, "Brains called me fifteen minutes after the guy was supposed to call the winner. Then it took about twenty minutes to get to you. A little under an hour, Sprout, I'm sorry I couldn't get there faster."
"It's okay Scott," Alan gave him a small smile, "'Cause it was you that came, not some other person," Alan's lipped trembled as he thought about if someone else had come.
"So that brings Alan back to us," Virgil spoke up, "Guess we're done here."
Jeff nodded, "Unless you have questions for anyone else, but Alan's tale is done," he left no room for argument.
Sufern nodded, a little frustrated, but he agreed, "Yes, we're done here. I would like to talk with Scott at some point, but that can wait until tomorrow. Then I have a few questions for you, Mr. Tracy, before you leave for your island."
"Of course," Jeff said standing, holding out his hand, "I'll call you tomorrow morning."
Sufern took the offered hand, "I look forward to it," he said dryly; then winced in pain as Jeff took a crushing grip before letting go with a not-so-nice smile.
John stood up, saying, "I'll walk you to your car."
"That isn't necessary," Sufern tried to deflect.
"No I insist," John said lightly with a charming smile. Sufern nodded and moved towards the door with John in tow.
John was quiet as they went down the elevator to the parking garage. Stepping off the elevator, John followed Sufern to his car.
"I think you have seen me out now, John," Sufern said turning to John.
John's friendly smile and features were gone; what stood before Sufern was a blonde version of an angry Scott, which was almost scarier. Without warning, John threw a right hook at Sufern's jaw, making the agent's head whip to the side.
Sufern rubbed his jaw and glared at John, "You just assaulted a federal agent, young man, not the smartest thing to do."
John just gave a cold smile, "I seem to remember you walking into a door," he cocked his head to the side, "No cameras in this part of the garage, no bystanders, how will you prove it?"
Sufern took a step towards John, "I won't need to prove it—"
John cut him off with another punch, this one to the gut. Grabbing Sufern's neck, John whispered in his ear, "If you ever make my brother feel like that again or if you even come close to anyone in my family again…the only witnesses to your death will be seagulls and sharks off the coast of our island." John released Sufern and walked away, never looking back.