A/N: I thought it fair to warn you that those of a squeamish disposition might want to skip the first part of this chapter...
"What's the matter, don't you recognise me, Detective Kelly?" Gianni sneered as leaned closer to the redhead's face. "You used to be pretty tight with my father, didn't you?"
He sat and said nothing as he met the younger man's gaze, not willing to break eye contact and give the thug the upper hand. Gianni laughed in his face and he fought hard not to wrinkle his nose in disgust at the fetid smell of the man's breath.
"What's the matter, cat got your tongue?"
Again he said nothing, never breaking eye contact with Gianni, goading the other man into a game of wills. A hand shot out with lightning speed and gripped his face painfully, "I seem to remember that you had no problem talking with the FBI eighteen years ago."
The hand tightened around his jaw faster but still he refused to look away, "You don't want to talk, Detective Kelly?" Gianni asked as he let go of his face with some force, "You know...they all talk in the end. One way or another."
The mobster began walking in circles around the chair that Horatio was bound to, "We've got a lot of catching up to do, don't you think?" He felt hot breath on his ear as Gianni bent down behind him, "I've waited a long time for this, I'm going to enjoy making you suffer."
He heard the cracking sound before his brain registered the pain in his left hand, biting on his bottom lip he sucked in a deep breath to keep from shouting out. "I was thinking that maybe I should break a bone for every year that my father spent in jail because of you, what do you think?"
He didn't have time to answer even if he wanted to as he heard the sickening sound of bone cracking as another finger on his hand gave way under the pressure his captor was exerting on it.
"I got your text, Natalia. What's up?"
Looking up from her computer screen she smiled at him softly, "I thought you'd want to know that I've run the epithelia's found on the rope used to tie Detective Sipowicz. "
Eric looked at her expectantly, "What did you find?"
Her gaze dropped back down to her station, "The only DNA that I found belongs to Horatio, I'm sorry."
He sat down heavily on a stool, "Figures as much, Andy said they made Horatio tie him up. They must have all been wearing gloves; did you get anything from the rag used to gag him?"
"The same, just DNA from Horatio and his friend. There were traces of motor oil and gasoline on it so I sent it to Travers to analyse." Natalia looked at Eric with glistening eyes, "I wish I had more for you, I'm sorry."
His next stop was to the trace lab where its resident analyst Michael Travers was standing hunched over a microscope; Eric cleared his throat to signal his presence. "Natalia tells me that you might have some information about the rag we found at the scene."
"Ah…..yes, Mr Delko," Travers answered in a distinctly British accent that was more than a little out of place in a city like Miami, his pale skin and penchant for eccentric clothing although clichéd served to reinforce his image as a typical English gentlemen. "The oil found on the cloth is indeed the type that is found in motor vehicles, the grade in question is most commonly used on heavy-duty diesel engines from the late nineties, usually in vans and other commercial vehicles. I also found traces of diesel fuel present which again would suggest the vehicle had a diesel engine, I'm not sure if that narrows down your search at all."
"It's more than we had an hour ago. Thanks, Travers."
Zero from two, he thought as he trudged down the corridor to the elevator, we're getting nowhere fast. He pressed the call button and waited for the doors of the elevator to open, shocked to find who was standing on the other side. "Andy, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in the hospital?"
"Forget it, kid. It was just a knock on the noggin, I'm fine," he groused, the bruising and swelling on his temple looked sore and angry.
"I thought you were going to head back to New York?"
"Change of plans, I'm not gonna hang around back home with my finger up my ass whilst my partner is out there at the mercy of some two-bit thugs."
Eric smiled at the coarse language the other man was employing to get his point across with about as much subtlety as a sledgehammer. It didn't escape his notice that Andy had referred to Horatio as his partner. "You're not a cop anymore though."
The withering look that the older man gave him gave him cause to shrink back slightly and it suddenly occurred to him how much it reminded him of Horatio. "Look, kid, I was out catching criminals before you were even a swimmer in your daddy's nut-sack. Just because I'm not on the job anymore doesn't mean I don't know how to work a case." Andy continued to stare at him, "Are you gonna stand there like a fairy or are you going to bring me up to date on what you've found?"
A smile spread out across Eric's face, the man before him had been the one to teach Horatio how to be a cop out on the tough streets of New York. Even from his short visit there he knew a cop needed to be street-smart to survive out there, he could just imagine an image of his brother-in-law as a wet behind the ears rookie being taken in hand by the gruff Andy Sipowicz. Horatio was a tough and ballsy cop and it was easy to see that the man before him had a larger influence on the redhead's life than any of them realised.
Calleigh sat across from Kyle and watched him as he paced the room liked a caged tiger, the young man had been pacing back and forth for the best part of an hour and his constant movement was starting to make her feel dizzy. "Come and sit down, Kyle. You must be exhausted," she suggested from her position on the couch.
He turned to look at her with those clear blue eyes that matched those of his father, "Sitting down is not going to help us find Dad. We should be out there doing something!" he replied as he gritted his teeth in frustration.
"Kyle, you need to leave this to us. You can't be part of this investigation, we…."
"The hell I can't! Those animals are out there somewhere doing God knows what to my father, I'm not just going to sit here and wait!"
"Kyle, "she began again trying to reason with him before he interrupted again.
"I know how to use a gun; I'm in the army for God's sake. When you track them down I'm coming with you, I'll make them pay for what they've done to him." He looked at Calleigh with steely eyes and spoke with conviction in his voice, "I can protect myself and I can help Dad too."
"You're not going to help him by getting yourself arrested for murder!"
"No, but it would make me feel a hell of a lot better! Isn't that what they say, 'an eye for an eye'?"
"Your father wouldn't want you to go down that road, especially not for him. When we get him back, and we will get him back he's going to need you to be there for him. How do you think he's going to feel if he finds out you've been arrested and you end up back in jail. Do you have any idea what he went through the last time that happened, what strings he had to pull to keep you safe in there?"
She knew that she was using Kyle's feelings towards his father against the boy but she was at a loss for what else to do, Kyle running off half-cocked would only make the situation worse. She could see the anger begin to fade in the young man's eyes as he sank back down into his father's leather chair. "Horatio needs you to be strong, now more than ever. We're not going to do him any good if we're all at each other's throats, ok?"
He sighed in defeat; his head hung low, "You're right, I know. This just wasn't the type of homecoming I had planned, you know." He looked around the office and took in the bare walls and lack of furnishings and it reminded him of his father, the strong and silent man he had grown to love. "Would you mind if I stayed in here for a while, it's the only thing I have of him at the moment." He looked slightly embarrassed at his admission as he glanced up at Calleigh and then back down to the desk.
"Sure, take all the time you need," she responded softly, closing the door behind her as she left.