Chapter 10

Sheriff Stilinski had finished briefing his deputies. He felt a terrible weakness spreading all over his being from within and as the deputies hurriedly dispersed, he sank back into his seat. He massaged his temples with his fingers, and clenched his jaw in frustration. Stiles had been missing for over five hours now and in spite of having all the sheriff's personnel and a whole gang of werewolves (though in secret) leading the search, they had come up with nothing. Extensive interrogation of Walsh did nothing to help as he had been in their custody the whole time. Even though he knew the history Walsh had with the twins, he couldn't really explain it to agent McCall, and it was McCall who put his foot down and flatly refused when Chris and Derek demanded to have another go at the hunter. Stilinski had almost been ready crack open the agent's skull but decided against it. So now, after five hours of frantic search, the sheriff was getting a sinking feeling that he might never be able to see his son again.

The sheriff opened his exhausted eyes when he heard a phone ring. He instinctively reached for his own but it wasn't the one ringing. He looked around, alert and realised that the ringing was coming from the evidence bags on his desk. It was Stiles's phone.

The sheriff felt his heartbeat pick up as he brought out the phone. Unknown number. He cleared his throat and took the call.

"Hello?"

"I'd say good day but this day hasn't been very good has it?" a cold voice said from the other end.

"Who is this?"

"Your son's new acquaintance. I wanted to say friend, but I think your son would disapprove." Sheriff heard some muffled noise in the background, like someone trying to scream through a gag.

Stilinski brought his hand down on the desk heavily, causing the files and objects to clutter in protest.

"You dare hurt my son! If anything happens to him, so much as a scratch, I'll kill you!" he yelled into the receiver.

The man on the other side laughed.

"I don't know about the scratch part, it might be too late for that but he does seem mostly unhurt." Sheriff heard a small thud and wince on the other side as he clenched his fist in anger.

"But he won't be for much longer. FYI, this is the time where you ask me what I want."

"What DO you want?"

"A fairly simple exchange. John Walsh for your annoying teenage prodigy."

"We can't do that. Walsh is in federal custody."

"Not yet, he will be. It will be better for your son if the exchange is made before the feds step in. Don't try to get smart, I'm not stupid."

Before Stilinski could reply, the line went dead.

"It's one of them, his sons, has to be!" Scott paced the room in anger.

"But which one?" that was Lydia; she stood quietly in a corner. She was very upset over what had happened and wished she could be more helpful. She turned to Aiden, who sat on the sofa beside his twin, expecting an answer. Ethan waited for his brother to reply but when he didn't, Ethan spoke up.

"We don't know."

"Yeah, we told you! We thought all three were dead!" Aiden said, clearly feeling helpless.

"So what do we do now?" Scott asked to no one in particular.

"We do what he asks," a voice said from the doorway.

They turned to see Allison standing there. She had her bow and arrows, all set across her shoulders.

Scott shook his head, "We can't let Walsh walk free!"

"We won't! We'll just bring Walsh where the kidnapper asks us to. Then we capture them both. We have enough fire power and people to pull it off. The sheriff is on our side and dad and I have been able to do a good study of the weapons he might have," she looked around the room and saw only half convinced and terrified faces. Allison sighed and went up to Scott.

"We can do this!"

Scott looked at her quietly for a long time before sighing.

"I don't know –"

"We could pull it off," came a deep voice. Derek. He had been very quiet all the while, except for deep consultations with Chris, whom he had come to regard as a friend. He seemed to have been calculating all the factors that had come into play with Stiles's kidnapping and since Scott was already losing his head over his best friend, Derek had surprisingly kept his calm.

Derek stood up, the twins followed suit.

"There are enough of us, and we can get sheriff to post deputies outside so that Walsh and his son can't escape. Then, its two of them against so many of us."

The twins nodded.

"We should have killed him when we had a chance," Aiden scowled.

"We have a score to settle, anyway," Ethan quipped, darkly.

Scott looked around the room and his eyes came to a stop on Allison's determined face. He shrugged.

"Alright. Let's go get Walsh."

Stiles felt a dull throb in his head. He could feel the pain radiating from the point where he got hit with the gun. The man who kidnapped him was only a few years older than him but he was awfully armed with guns and grenades, much like his father. Stiles tried to free his hands the umpteenth time and winced as his raw and chaffed wrists rubbed against the rope. His captor had removed the gag and Stiles decided that it could be a good chance to try his luck.

"You know, if you wanted to get to know me, you could have just asked." Stiles's heartbeat was going through the roof but he felt comforted knowing that the human could not hear it. He tried to keep his face as relaxed as possible.

His captor laughed, sitting down on a chair facing Stiles. He lightly held his gun between his fingers. Stiles found himself shying away from the metal weapon and the man laughed again when he noticed it.

"What? All bravado gone?"

Stiles gulped but managed to put a smirk on his face.

"I'm all tied up but you still feel the need to keep a gun with you. Ironical, don't you think?"

The man laughed again, looking straight at Stiles.

"Oh you are a delight aren't you?" he seemed to enjoying himself, much in contrary to what Stiles had hoped to achieve. The slight teenager took a deep breath and tilted his head and hoped that he looked relaxed, even though he wasn't.

"My friends think so too. They are also kind of bad asses, just so you know. In fact, my best friend is an alpha," Stiles said.

"A piss poor one at that, or so I've heard," the man replied, completely unperturbed. He then shifted in his seat to a more comfortable slouch and smiled, "I know what you are trying to do here, Stiles. You can't get to me that easily."

Stiles gulped, frowning.

"We were starting to talk so nicely!" he replied sarcastically.

"OH were we? Alright, let's talk Stiles. Tell me what you know," the man replied, his voice smooth without a trace of worry.

"I know everything. I know what you did with Ethan, and I know you killed their friend Jenna. Everyone else does too. You think they'll go easy on you?" Stiles spat.

The man straightened up and grinned at the boy.

"Is that supposed to scare me?"

"I should think so!"

The man bent close to Stiles making the teenager want to back away, but he couldn't.

"You know who I am?"

"You're Walsh's son. Which one, I don't know."

The man moved back to his seat.

"I'll help you. I'm Jason," he sneered.

Stiles cleared his throat.

"My friends are going to bury you alive."

This time, he didn't get a laugh or even a smile. Instead, he received a sharp punch to his face. His head snapped to a side, little stars laced his vision and the pain in his head which had reduced to a dull throb returned in full blow. When Stiles's vision cleared slightly he saw Jason looking straight at him with the coldest and most unfeelingly eyes he had ever seen.

"They can't do anything they haven't tried before," he growled.

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