Chapter 5- You Know My Name

Micky walked down the beach in the direction Davy had once gone while Mike headed back up to the pad to look for clues to find the location of Peter. Micky was tired and wished he could just fall down and sleep through the whole problem, except he couldn't. He was waist-deep in the problem now, just because he looked like BabyFace Morales. He kicked a stone, upset with himself and BabyFace. Micky looked down at his white tennis shoes, noticing spots of blood on them. Confused, he took off his left shoe and observed the blood stains. He looked down at his sock, which was clean of the crimson menace. He then let his attention wander to the rock he just kicked. The rock seemed as though it had been dipped in blood. After a moment, his eyes widened. The blood could have been Peter's... or even Davy's!

"Mmmiiike!" Micky cried, waving the rock in the air as he raced back towards the pad.

Mike had just entered the pad when the phone rang. He picked it up casually, giving a monotone greeting. "M-mike?" A familiar British accent asked on the other end. It sounded painful and it hurt Mike to listen.

"Davy?"

"Mike, please," Davy said. "You need to find Peter. He's not here! You need-"

Davy was cut off by BabyFace. "Hello Michael."

"What have you done with Davy and Peter?" Mike asked, his Texan accent thickening.

"We're keeping David with us as a ransom. Peter, on the other hand, let's just say keep heading north and you'll find him eventually. Now Michael, about Mister Dolenz..."

"I have a question for you!" Mike interrupted. "You've taken Peter and you've taken Davy, but why didn't you just take Micky first? Besides, what did Davy ever do to you? The one time we met you, Davy wasn't even in the country!"

"I enjoy seeing my enemies suffer." BabyFace deadpanned. "It would be too easy to kill Micky and leave it at that."

"Kill Micky?" Mike interrupted. He could hear the Englishman mimic the surprise and concerning remark in the background. He could also hear Davy's pleas to not harm Micky.

"Shut him up." BabyFace ordered, before returning to Mike.

"I swear to God, BabyFace, if you hurt him anymore than you have I will gut you like a Texas Prairie Chicken."

BabyFace laughed. "Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? A prairie chicken?" BabyFace chuckled again before continuing, "Michael, I won't hurt him if you bring me Dolenz. Bring me Dolenz, and I will give you the coordinates to the exact point we left Peter, and we will return Davy as well. What do you say Nesmith?"

"Where are you?" Mike asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

"1211 Oswald St. It's an old building. Used to be a brewery."

At this, Michael hung up. "Mike?" Micky asked from the bandstand. Mike turned around to make eye contact with the drummer. Micky noted how old Mike looked at that moment."BabyFace?"

Mike nodded. He looked as though he was ready to break down and cry. "Babyface has Davy, and he dropped Peter off who knows where. He said if I give you up, then he gives me Davy and tells me where Peter is." Micky looked down at the bloody rock in his hands, which were now stained with most likely Davy's blood.

"Then it's simple. I go to BabyFace, you get Davy & Peter, and then save me."

"No Mick, you don't understand, BabyFace doesn't want there to be two of him, if you catch my drift."

"Oh." Micky's face dropped. "Then what do we do?"

"I don't know yet, but the more we sit and think, the more danger we put David and Peter in." Micky's eyes widened at the comment. Mike never referred to Davy by his first name. Ever. This was the sign that Mike was truly insecure about what he was about to face.

Micky watched as Mike stared at the floor, thinking. Micky held the bloody rock in his hands, somehow not able to let go. Suddenly, Micky saw the keys to the MonkeeMobile appear on the rock. Looking up, he saw Mike walking towards the bathroom.

"Mike!"

"Go find Peter. BabyFace said to keep heading north. Don't come home till ya' do." Mike replied, not looking back. The door to the bathroom slammed shut, and Micky could hear the shower being turned on.

Micky walked over to the bathroom door, desperate to find out what Mike was thinking about doing. "Mike? What are you planning?" No response. "Mike? Come on Mike, spill the beans."

"Go find Peter. That's priority number one." Mike's thick Texan drawl responded through the wooden door.

"What about Davy?"

"I'll handle saving Davy. You need to get as far away from here as possible and find Peter."

"But we don't know where he is!"

"Like I said, head north. Now go before I have to force you out. Don't come back till Peter's safe." Mike ordered.

"Okay, bye Mike." Micky sighed. Mike's accent had almost conquered his normal Californian/Texan cross, so Micky thought it best to obey. Micky walked out to the garage, with both the rock and the keys. He threw the rock into the passenger seat and started the car. With a heavy sigh, he backed out of the garage and started heading north, the radio on full blast in order to ease Micky's worries.

The bell rang at Jessica's Prosthetic, causing the owner's daughter, Jessica, to be spooked by the obvious entrance of a customer during the lunch rush. The man who entered was a tall, thin man, who styled rich black hair and the most gorgeous sideburns she had ever seen. He wore a fedora and a pinstripe suit. She giggled, for he looked a bit like a gangster.

"Hello. I'm Jessica. How can I help you?" she giggled.

"Uh, I was wondering if you could, by chance, make me look like this man, with some makeup of course." the man said shyly. She fell for the man's Texan drawl.

"Sure. Come on back." Jessica lead the Texan to the back room, where all her movie make-up was. "So, why this man in particular?"

"I'm trying to save my friends