Chapter 3 – Black and White
He had tried to follow the turns and stops but their abductors knew exactly what they were doing and it hadn't taken long before he was forced to admit he had no idea where they were headed. As soon as the van doors had slammed closed, he had heard the sound of a lock being turned and then a a latch being closed and a padlock being slipped through the loops. He had tested the doors but to no avail. They wouldn't budge.
The interior of the van was black. Pitch black. He explored the sides and roof and floor with his fingertips feeling for the slightest opening. There were none. No windows, no light and no vents other than two small metal grates that allowed a sluggish flow of air from the cab into the back of the van. The interior smelt of new carpet and glue. The result was nauseating. Every inch of the sides and floor had been covered in a short-weave black carpet that had been riveted and glued firmly in place. He felt padding beneath that, insulating them from the sounds outside the van and isolating them from the outside.
This told Mac two things. One that the work on the inside of the van was a custom job and would have taken time and money so they were in for a long ride. No one would go to this much trouble just to take him to an abandoned warehouse five minutes away. Two, that this had been carefully planned. They had to have been watching him. He had no routine other than going to the lab, shopping at the same grocery store and using the same dry cleaner so that's why they had picked that spot and bided their time.
The van turned a sharp corner throwing them to one side. Mac heard Stacy cry out. He gave up his search and settled himself towards the rear of the van bracing himself against the partition between the rear and the cab. Although he couldn't see her he knew Stacy was huddled in the corner and that she was scared. She hadn't said a word since the engine had started and the van had turned out of the alley.
"Stacy?" He felt her move beside him. "Are you okay?" Her answer was so faint he could barely hear it against the hum of the engine beneath them. Mac rubbed a hand down his face. "Stacy, I'm sorry." He heard a sniff and felt her arm brush against his. She was wiping her nose on her sleeve.
"What for?" Her voice was quiet and timid, the chatty girl from earlier having disappeared.
Mac took a deep breath. "For getting you involved in this," he confessed. He felt sick to his stomach that an innocent girl had got caught up his world. He didn't know it but Stacy nodded slowly beside him in the darkness of the van.
"It's okay." She sniffed. "What do you think they want?"
There was the million dollar question. What did they want? There was any number of criminals that he had put away who would jump at the chance to get a little revenge. Or perhaps they wanted him as a bargaining chip to secure the release of a colleague or family member. Or get evidence quashed. A thousand and one possibilities rushed through his head. He thought about the two men. Hard men. Cold men. He didn't recognise either of them. He thought about the abduction itself. Quick. Methodical. Well planned. Professional. But to what purpose? He sighed opting for the truth. "I don't know."
They sat for a few more minutes in silence. The van slowed, came to a stop, starting and stopping several times before slowly speeding up and after one or two slight turns, settling to a steady speed. Although he could hear very little of what was happening around them he could hear and feel the changes in the engine. Mac knew that they had just left Manhattan. The pattern of starting and stopping corresponded to traffic filtering to cross a bridge or use a tunnel. They were leaving the city.
Eventually they settled into a cruising speed. Not fast. Not slow. No more twists and turns. They were on a highway. They had taken his watch and his phone. No light, no idea of time but it was hot and getting hotter. The sun would be getting high in the sly. Mac reckoned they had been going about an hour but he had no idea in which direction, nor where they were headed nor why.
At least he could console himself with one thought. They had made a mistake by killing that young man. He felt a moment of sadness as he wondered who the young man had been. He vaguely recalled a grey uniform and a holster. Security guard possibly. Someone would have found the body by now. Jo was on call. He imagined her at the scene with Don, probably Sheldon too. He wondered how quickly they would work out that he and Stacy were involved. Hopefully they would find his suits and Mr Chang would tell them that they were his. Then hopefully Adam would identify the van and they would be able to track their movements. All he had to do was bide his time. If an opportunity presented itself he would get Stacy out of harm's way but he knew that Jo, Don and the rest of the team would do everything to find them. The thought was reassuring.
Stacy shuffled uncomfortable on the hard floor although the ride was smoother now they were on a straight road. "Alice will be worried."
Mac reached out in the dark and found her shoulder. "It'll be all right Stacy. I'll get you out of this, I promise." He felt the sickness return even as he uttered the words. He prayed that it was a promise he could keep. Why had she picked that moment to step into the elevator? Why hadn't she just gone straight home after completing her chores? Why hadn't he tried harder to get them to let her go? Guilt washed over him.
"Are they going to kill us?"
Mac turned his head sharply to look at her even though he couldn't see her. "No." He put as much conviction into the word as he could even though his head told him it was a distinct possibility. There was a minute's silence.
"Does it hurt?"
Mac was pulled from his train of thoughts by the unexpected question. "What?"
"Your face. Does it hurt? Where that man hit you?"
He had to admit that it hurt like hell. He could already feel the side of his face swelling. His cheek throbbed and it was sensitive to the touch and he knew that the blow had broken the skin on his cheekbone just below the eye socket. He could feel the stickiness. It wouldn't be pretty to look at. For once he was glad that it was pitch black so he told a little white lie. "No. It's fine." He felt her shuffle next to him as though trying to get more comfortable. Without knowing why he slipped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him fitting neatly under his arm. They sat in silence listening to the drone of the engine each drawing strength from the other's presence.
"Alice says you shouldn't tell lies."
She was a smart kid. Despite everything Mac found himself smiling.
.
The minutes stretched into hours. Time no longer had any meaning. The engine droned on and the temperature rose inside the van. They had only stopped once, a brief stop, probably for fuel. Much to his surprise Mac found himself dozing. He jerked awake as he realized they had slowed. He felt the van turn and bounce. It drew to a stop. The van rocked as though someone was getting out. Had to be Jowls, Mac thought to himself. Shifting that bulk would rock the Titanic. After a few moments the van moved again and manoeuvred back and forth. It was being parked.
Some minutes passed before there was movement at the doors and they were flung open. Mac was forced to close his eyes as he was blinded from the light pouring in. Opening them a crack he could see Jowls silhouetted in the doorway. "Comfort break. You've got five minutes." Mac pulled himself up and half crawled, half walked out of the van. He turned back to help Stacy who clung to his hand like a limpet. He squinted in the bright sun looking around at the rolling countryside, endless fields and stands of trees. The van was parked behind a dilapidated building out of sight of the road. Spotting several old rusted cars that stood half hidden among tall grass and Goatee sitting on a oil drum smoking a cigarette, his gun in his hand, Mac realized the building had once been a gas station that, judging by the weeds growing through the cracks in the asphalt, had almost certainly been abandoned for some time. "In there." Jowls waved the Desert Eagle towards a battered looking door that hung on it's hinges.
"Can we at least ..." Mac began only to have the Desert Eagle jabbed against his throat. Jowls glared at him. Mac nodded lifting a hand in resignation. The no speaking rule was clearly still in force.
"Four minutes," stated Jowls firmly pulling the Desert Eagle reluctantly away from Mac's throat.
Mac ushered Stacy into the back of the garage. The small bathroom stank. Stacy wrinkled her nose and looked at the dirty white tiles and graffiti-covered walls in disgust. There were two stalls, a urinal and a cracked wash-basin with a mirror above it. Tentatively Stacy pushed at one of the doors. She peered inside before stepping in. Mac rejected the stall in favour of the urinal. Having relieved himself he went to the sink and turned the tap but no water came out. He heard Stacy trying to flush the toilet. "The water's cut off." He looked at himself in the mirror as she came out. The right side of his face from his temple to his upper jaw was blue and purple with a blackened scab about an inch long and a dried trickle of blood. It still hurt. He hoped he wouldn't resemble Jowls when it healed.
"Two minutes," came a voice from outside.
Mac looked around as Stacy looked at her hands. She settled for rubbing them on her jeans. She looked at Mac who looked back at his face in the mirror. "I've got a tissue." She held out a packet of Kleenex. "Alice says you should always have a tissue in your pocket."
Mac smiled. "Do you have anything else in your pocket?" he asked quietly.
"Only a chap stick." Stacy pulled out a small pink tube. "It's strawberry."
Mac's smile grew a little wider. "Can I borrow that?" Stacy shrugged and held it out wondering why on earth a man would want strawberry chap stick. Her jaw dropped when she saw what he had in mind.
.
Jowls was about to enter the bathroom and give the arrogant bastard another whipping when the door opened and they stepped out. Irritably he waved them back to the van. He watched the man take another look around so he gave a shove just to make sure he knew who was boss. Jowls had taken a dislike to him the minute he saw him; it was something in his bearing and his attitude. It was those eyes, the way they looked at him. Jowls couldn't wait till to be allowed to teach this one a lesson.
Mac and Stacy climbed in the van. Goatee pushed away from the barrel where he had been sitting smoking. He picked up a brown paper bag and tossed it in after them and the doors were closed plunging them into darkness once more. The van rocked as the two men got back in and they took off again. After a small amount of manoeuvring the van settled once more into a cruising speed. Not fast, not slow. They were clearly trying not to draw attention to themselves.
Mac felt around for the bag. He pulled it towards him and put a hand inside and pulled out a plastic bottle. Water? There were also triangular shaped packs - sandwiches and some kind of candy bar. "I guess this is lunch. They obviously don't want us to starve." This puzzled Mac. For some reason Jowls and Goatee had been ordered to treat them well. Mac knew they were following orders as clearly Jowls would like nothing better than to punch his lights out. The questions was whose orders and why?
Stacy shuffled next to him. Her stomach had been rumbling for the past two hours despite the breakfast Alice had cajoled her into eating. Alice said breakfast was the most important meal of the day. "What kind of sandwich?" Mac pulled off a wrapper and sniffed. It had a faintly chemical smell. He took one of the sandwiches and bit into it. "Chicken mayo. Here take the other half."
"Okay." Mac felt her hands flutter over his in search of the other half. "Could be worse I guess."
They munched in silence for a minute then opened the bottle. It was Coke. After polishing off the second sandwich, Mac asked, "You still hungry? You want a candy bar?"
"Might as well. It's best to eat and drink while you can. You never know when you might get another chance."
Mac nodded in the darkness. She sounded like a Marine. "Alice tell you that?"
There was a moment's silence then Stacy spoke quietly. "No, my Dad."