Author's Note: This chapter is going to get a little gruesome. Remember the beginning of Peter's procedure with Richie and BabyFace? Well, this is an extension on that, I'm warning you now there will be blood, exposed organs, and dying.
Chapter 12- Old Habits Die Hard
The first thing Micky was consciously aware of was the rank smell of molding wood. A sharp pain in his head kept him from opening his eyes. Quickly he was aware of a hard, cold surface underneath him and leather straps around his wrists and ankles. The next thing he was aware of was the clinking of shoes on metal. Then he heard voices.
"Does this have to do with your enemy again?" Once voice asked curiously. Micky heard the sound of rubber being stretched and snapped into place.
"He's right over there." Micky heard his own voice say. "And the other one is another friend of his. More of an enemy now than before."
"Oh?" The other voice asked.
Suddenly, Micky was aware of Mike's voice, too. He was groaning, obviously waking up from being hit over the head. 'No, don't make any noise, Mike. They'll hear you.' Micky thought. However, the plea was worthless as Micky could hear the clicking sound once again. It got closer and closer until a sharp pain shot through Micky's face.
"Wake up, Dolenz." BabyFace demanded. Reluctantly, Micky opened his eyes to look into that of his doppelganger. He watched as BabyFace walked over to Mike, who was strapped to a table as well, and slapped him too. Micky cringed at the sound of skin on skin as Mike shook awake. "Good morning fellas, time to play."
"I doubt it." Mike deadpanned, but received another slap as punishment.
"Oh, it will be fun." BabyFace laughed, "Meet my friend, Richie. He's a professional surgeon. He will be performing your operation today."
"O-operation?" Micky asked, now finding his voice.
"Don't worry 'cousin.'" BabyFace teased. "You're not going first. Tony, move his table around so he can watch." Suddenly, Micky felt the table move beneath him. He was lurched upright and turned to face Mike. Micky met Mike's eyes, both passing each other a note of worry. "Alright Richie, do your stuff."
Richie nodded. He walked up to Mike and began unbuttoning his shirt. Micky realized what was about to happen. "What are you doing to him?" He found himself shouting.
"What I'm getting paid for." Richie said over the laughter of BabyFace Morales.
"No!" Micky yelped as Richie donned a knife from a nearby table that was full of medical tools. Mike could only stare down at his now bare chest, all hope missing from his eyes.
"Don't you worry, Dolenz, we're not going to kill him… yet." BabyFace said, stepping closer to Mike's table.
"Get away from him!" Micky yelled, trying to reach out and grab BabyFace, but no luck coming from being bound to a table. "Stop it!"
"Tony, gag him." BabyFace said, looking over Richie's shoulder as he began to make an incision on Mike's chest. The room was suddenly filled with a symphony of laughter and cries of pain. Tony Ferano, the old gangster Micky remembered from their last encounter, took a dirty bandanna and tied it around Micky's mouth.
"I 'r 'ou 'oing his?" Micky tried to say through the bandanna.
"Sorry?" BabyFace mocked him, putting a hand to his ear.
Micky struggled, but eventually got the gag onto his chin. "Why are you doing this?"
"Ah," BabyFace replied, shouting over Mike's screams. "I'm doing it because you Monkees busted the biggest jewel heist of my career! You put me in jail!"
"You already were in jail!" Micky retorted, still struggling against the binds. The screams of pain were suddenly silenced as Richie switched tools.
BabyFace smiled, stepping away from the operation table and closing in on Micky. "Jail doesn't fit the bill, kid. I've been a thief all my life. There's nothing to steal in prison."
"So? What purpose is there to thievery and stealing?"
"Money! I don't have to pay a cent for what I steal, and I get thousands of dollars for selling it! It's life, Micky. You have to learn how to survive."
"But you don't need to steal." Micky pleaded. "You don't need to hurt people when things don't go your way. Is that what you did to Peter? You hurt him like that just to get revenge for what we did? That doesn't make any sense." Micky glanced back and forth between the gangster and Mike, who was now barely conscious. "Mike and Peter were only trying to protect me, that's why they tagged along back when I was pretending to be you. I don't even know what Davy did to make you mad, but it's not right. There is no point to hurting people."
"So you think." BabyFace sneered. "How would you feel if your entire life, your fortune, your work, was all stripped away from you in one swift click of the handcuffs? It's miserable, it's painful. There's a certain excitement that is associated with my line of work, you see, and I live off that excitement. However, when it is all taken away by a bunch of no-good long haired weirdos, I get mad. And the only way to satisfy that anger is by hurting those who hurt me. I hurt your friends because I know it hurts you. I don't have to lay a finger on you to get you to feel pain. Physical pain is always fun to inflict, but mental pain is a treasure, one that can be hard to achieve. Making you watch Michael as his ribs are broken one by one is a dream come true. And you know what? I'll even let you watch as he slowly dies. Then once he's dead, I'll kill you too. Slow and painful, just like your friend."
When those final words left his mouth, BabyFace gagged, clutching his stomach. He fell to the floor, pain written on his face.
Richie pulled the knife from BabyFace's back and proceeded to cut Micky's binds. When Tony tried to stop him, Richie gave him one swift punch in the jaw, knocking the man out cold, but causing extreme pain in that hand. Once he got one hand free, he handed the knife to Micky so he could free himself. In utter shock, Micky silently finished cutting the binds.
"There's a back entrance to this place." Richie explained, cradling his injured hand. "Go that way and call the police. Get an ambulance for this man, too."
"What?" Micky asked, still in shock. "Who- who are you?"
"As said before, I'm a professional surgeon who got to meet your hippie friend. While you were arguing with Morales, I reflected on what your friend told me. The money isn't worth it anymore."
"What are you talking about?" Micky asked again, still confused.
Richie sighed, kicking BabyFace as he tried to get up again. "I'll take care of BabyFace and his goons, just go! The exit is that way." Richie exclaimed, pointing down a dark hall. Hesitantly, Micky ran off down the hall, in search of the exit.
Richie Osmond watched as BabyFace's look-alike ran off down the hall. "God's speed." He muttered, a small smile on his face. He walked over to Mike, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, kid. I really am. I'll get what I deserve, just hang on till help arrives."
Two cold, wet hands wrapped around his throat, sending him backwards. Richie tried to pry them off, but could only get one off due to the inability to use his other hand.
"Traitor!" BabyFace screamed, strangling the surgeon.
"Get… off… me!" Richie yelled, backing BabyFace into a wall with all his strength. Richie heard a scream and noticed Mike trying to get up to help. It was a bonehead move, really. Once Mike realized he could not move from that table without potentially dying, he laid back down, his face twisted in pain.
Richie ran the gangster into another wall, this time the hands freeing him from his grasp. Richie ran for his tools, quickly grabbing a chisel and charging towards BabyFace. Richie dug the chisel into his stomach, causing the gangster to yelp in pain. Richie knew he just had to fend off BabyFace till help arrived, since he could not move Mike without killing him. His incision was still wide open, his insides peaking out through the globs of blood he was losing.
Suddenly Micky returned, running straight to Mike's side. Richie joined him. "We have to help him!" Micky proclaimed, not exactly sure what to do.
"This procedure was designed to kill him. I don't have the tools to keep him alive while I sew him up. We have to wait till help arrives." Richie notice's Micky's worry and felt sorry for the kid. Richie sighed, "Look, I'm sorry kid."
"You did this to Peter, too?" Micky asked, his eyes not wavering from his dying friend.
"Yes." Richie replied, looking at Mike as well.
"Why?" Micky asked.
"I was getting paid. After I visited your friend at the hospital, he gave me this sermon on life values and that hippie-dippy stuff. While I was cutting your friend open here, I thought back to what he said. I realized it's not worth it anymore. Why am I ruining other people's lives just because my life sucked?" Richie sighed, petting his injured hand. "I realized it was time to give up and turn myself in. I can't keep doing this anymore without being reminded of your friend's words."
Suddenly, policemen and doctors burst into the room. Some went over to BabyFace, others to Tony who was still unconscious on the floor. Two male policemen ran over to Micky and Richie while a stretcher was brought in by a team of nurses. Richie and Micky backed away from the table to let them take Mike away. Micky could feel his heart in his throat as he watched the gruesome rescue.
"Which of you is Micky Dolenz?" One policeman asked.
"I am." Micky said. "That there was my friend Mike Nesmith, and this is…"
"Richie Osmond." Richie introduced himself.
"Say," The other policeman said, "You break your hand?"
"Probably. I punched Tony over there." Richie shrugged off the injury, but then held his arms out to the police. "However, I was the one who opened up Mike. I'm willing to be arrested and to be questioned."
"What makes you think that?" One of the policemen asked.
"BabyFace Morales hired me to cut him open and let him die." Richie admitted, trying very hard to get this over with. "I should be arrested."
"Well you need a doctor first," The policeman said. "Mr. Dolenz, are you injured?"
"I-I don't think so." Micky admitted, giving himself a glance over.
"Go and get checked out by one of the doctors, just in case." The other policeman said. They escorted the two men out of the building and into the parking lot outside. It was crazy with ambulances and police, the bright, flickering lights of their cars blinding Micky momentarily.
A doctor gave Micky a check up and confirmed he was fine. Micky asked to go to the hospital with Mike, but the ambulance had already left with him inside. Micky noticed that BabyFace was being loaded into an ambulance while Tony was loaded into a police car. A policewoman offered to drive Micky to the hospital. Micky accepted the offer, getting into a police car and riding away. The last thing he saw in that parking lot was Richie, who stood between two policemen, his hand being bound by bandages, handcuffs dangling on his wrists.