TBITC Chp. 27

They watched the house for three hours, then went to get something to eat. In the time they were parked in front of Rick's house, no one seemed to notice them, or if they did, they weren't surprised. The former operators found a small diner, and a table in the back. Their waitress got the message without having to be told, and they were left alone, both by her and the lack of other patrons being sat near them. It also helped that it was nearing two in morning.

"So, any ideas?" Jack asked. Though he'd been told more than once that he was an exceptional tactician, Jack liked to defer to others backgrounds and experience when he was able to, not because he lacked confidence but because two or three or four heads were always better than one.

"Does he have any family, wife, kids, elderly parents?" Mike asked.

Jack shook his head. "Didn't look like it. But, then again, we could use that to our advantage." He said, and the other two looked at him, shock on their faces. The cardinal rule of Special Operations was that you didn't hurt civilians, ever. Even if the successful completion of your mission hinged on doing so.

The three men sat in silence for several minutes, before Kenny spoke. "Ok, Jack, look, you know that we want to get Sam back as much as you do. But you have to draw the line somewhere, man. You really think their just going to look the other way if you get Sam back, but you tortured or killed a civilian in order to get the information?"

Jack stared into the middle distances as he considered what his friend was saying. Deep down, he knew Ken was right. He knew that if he was to have any chance with Alexx when this thing was over, he'd have to keep everything above board. But….but at the same time, where was the fun in that?

"Well how do you feel about corrupt cops and child molesters?" Jack asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

Ken shrugged. "Kill 'em all and let God sort it out." Mike and Jack laughed at the familiar saying.

000

Sam lay there, numb, as the man did unspeakable things to him for his own pleasure. Sam recognized this man from when he was in the hospital. He'd got mad at daddy because daddy shot the other man who was gonna hurt him and mommy. Sam couldn't understand that, daddy had protected them, so why was this man mad at him? Though Sam didn't know this man's name, he knew that he worked for something called IAB, and that daddy and uncle…but that wasn't right, Horatio was Daddy's daddy so that would make Horatio Grandpa, wouldn't it? Sam hoped that his thinking was right because Horatio was nice and Sam thought he'd make a good grandpa.

Sam was barely aware when the man got off. He lay there, alone and unfeeling, wondering why he was thinking this way. Mommy and Daddy wouldn't want him now, because he was dirty and nasty and no one wanted him. Feeling truly alone for the first time in days, Sam lay on the filthy mattress and wept.

He was so lost in his own pain, that he didn't hear the door open, and someone walk over to the bed and sit down. He jumped when he felt someone gently touch his arm and turned to see his one friend in this awful hell. The girl was older than him by a few years, how many he didn't know for sure, and she'd been here when he'd arrived. All Sam knew about her was that her name was Anya.

Anya Petrova had come to America with her parents in search of a better life at the age of eight, and she'd found one. For a while, at least. Then her parents were killed in car crash when she was twelve and suddenly she was in danger of being sent back to Russia, and there was no one she would go back there. So Anya had done the only thing she could think of. She ran. In hindsight, it might not have been the best idea, given where she was now, and what she'd been forced to do in order to survive.

She took Sam in her arms and tried to comfort him, as best she could. "Your parents will find us, Sam. I know they will. Your father does not sound like someone who takes no for an answer."

Sam didn't say anything, but buried his head and Anya's chest. She ran he finger through his hair and sang a lullaby that her mother had sung to her when she was Sam's age. It was in Russian, but she suspected that he didn't care. When she was sure he was asleep, she laid him on bed, got up and went to the window. Looking out at the street, she let the tears that she been holding for Sam and for herself fall.

000

After two hours of refueling and planning, they went back to Stetler's place and broke in through the garage, which wasn't visible from the street. After disabling the alarm, they searched his bedroom and office two to bottom, finding several stashes of child porn. What was even more disgusting was that Sam was in some of the pictures. Both former Seals knew by Jack's reaction that Rick Stetler's fate had been 'sealed', no pun intended, by the photos. They checked the entertainment center in the master bedroom and living room and found more tapes. Though it seemed odd to them to find these articles so easily, they weren't surprised. Given Rick's personality, it was doubtful he brought many women home, if ever.

After finding all the incriminating evidence they were going to, they settled in to wait for Rick to come home. They reset the alarm system and Ken sat in the car out front. Jack and Mike stayed in the master bedroom.

000

Two hours passed, and the sun was just beginning to rise when an exhausted and obviously drunk Rick Stetler stumbled through his front door, and collapsed on his living room couch. "Jack, you ain't gonna believe this." Kenny radioed from his position in the car.

"Try me." Jack whispered back.

"Stetler's drunk."

Jack couldn't believe what he'd heard. "Say again."

"I said he's drunk, looks like he's passed out in the living room."

Jack considered this for several seconds. "Roger; meet us in the garage."

"Roger."

Jack glanced in Mike direction, and saw that the other man had already readied the tranquilizer gun he'd brought. Jack nodded, motioned for him to take the lead. Drawing his 1911, Jack covered the rear as they moved to the living room, finding it just as they had expected. Rick was snoring lightly on the couch, when Mike shot him once in the neck with the tranquilizer gun. He grunted once when the dart pricked his skin, but otherwise was obvious.

Jack knew on some level, as a Medic, he should be concerned for the man's well being, as giving an already drunk man a tranquilizer was a bad idea. However, Special Forces Medics were taught that they were soldiers first, and healers second. The only reason Jack would use his medical knowledge to Rick's benefit would be to keep the bastard alive long enough to extract information about Sam's whereabouts. Then he'd take great pleasure in putting two .45 caliber bullets into the back of the bastard's head.