"I'm going to see if Patrick's alright."
Robert watched, sadly, as Patrick went to Susan's casket to say goodbye. He saw his friend put his hand on hers and lean in to kiss her cheek. He talked to her as his fingers ran up and down her arm. 'He's blaming himself and apologizing' Robert thought to himself. Then he saw Patrick's composure slip as his shoulders hitched as he tried to keep from sobbing. He leaned in to kiss her again and then walked away wiping at his eyes.
Now, it was fifteen minutes later and Robert was worried about him. Worried that his friend went off somewhere by himself to break down. He went out into the foyer and scanned the small groups of mourners that were standing around talking, but Patrick wasn't among them. He went to the men's room.
"Hey," A man was standing in front of the broken mirror, holding up a cell phone. "Someone broke the mirror with this, there's glass in-"
Robert recognized Patrick's phone immediately. He stepped forward and took it from the man. "Where'd you get this?"
"On the floor. I almost stepped on it when I came in."
"There was no one else in here?"
"No, no one. You okay, Mister?" The man asked as Robert lost some color in his face.
Robert didn't answer him. He hurried from the bathroom to get Bailey and Nathan.
"Bailey!" Robert called from a few aisles behind them.
Bailey turned. He noticed the anxious look on Robert's face and stood up. He tapped Nathan's shoulder. "Something's up, let's go."
They followed Robert out into the foyer. Robert began to pace nervously.
"This was in the bathroom...it's Patrick's...there was a broken mirror...I can't find him."
Bailey and Nathan instinctively scanned the people in the area looking for anyone one who may not belong there. Bailey noticed to police officers walking in the front door with a man in between them, complaining about something Bailey couldn't quite make out. He approached the two officers and showed them his badge.
"What happened?"
The officer to the right spoke. "Mr. Meyers, here, was sitting in his car when another man yanked him out and drove away with it. Witnesses outside say the perp came from in here."
"Describe him," Bailey told the victim.
"Late fifties, early sixties...over six feet tall...stocky...dark, wavy hair. He had on a dark suit. He looked scared...like he just saw a ghost, ya know?" Meyers thought about where they were and what he had just said. "Sorry."
Bailey nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Meyers." He addressed the officers. "I'll get back to you. I'm pretty sure I know who took the car. I'll take care of it." Turning to Nathan and Robert he urged them forward to the door. "We need to go."
They hurried out the door and down the steps walking quickly to the car. "Robert, you drive. Nate, go through Patrick's phone and see who he talked to last. I'm calling Ridge and Jackson." Bailey asked his security detail outside Patrick's penthouse how things were looking. Jackson told him everything was clear. Except for a couple of police officers dropping something off for John it had been quiet. "John wasn't expecting anything from Boston P.D...call for back up and get inside now! I want a CSU. unit there! Double the manpower around the perimeter. I want the place locked down when I get there." He closed his phone. "Dammit!"
"Bailey...John was the last person Patrick spoke to...a half hour after we left." Nathan said from the backseat.
Bailey dialed John's number. "No answer." He dialed Jessie's phone. "Jessie's not answering either." He called the safe-house and slammed his phone shut in frustration. "They're not there. Sam said they were expecting them for dinner-"
"They have them, don't they? Those crazy bastards have John and Jessie!" Robert was scared and angry at the same time.
"I'm afraid so...they must have called Patrick from John's phone...threatened to kill them if he didn't meet them somewhere alone."
"Now what, huh?! Now, what do we do?!"
"We get them back, Robert. We take them back."
John groaned and opened his eyes, blinking them into focus. He was standing with his arms stretched out over his head his hands cuffed, the cuffs draped over a metal hook that hung from the ceiling. His chest hurt where the electrodes slammed into his body and he felt weird. There was a tingling sensation running through his entire body. He was shirtless and his ankles were tied together. He looked around him. He was in a small, low lit room with concrete walls. There was an overpowering smell of mildew. He could see it along the bottom of the walls where it met the floor. There was a half-closed door in front of him, but he heard nothing on the other side. Getting on his tip-toes he turned himself around, slowly, to see what was behind him. He saw Jessie. She was sitting on the floor, leaning forward slightly with one handcuffed to a pipe on the wall.
"Jessie! Jessie wake up!" He called out to her.
No movement. No answer.
"Jessie! Wake up, honey, It's John. C'mon, Wake up!" When again, he didn't get a response he looked at her more closely. He was relieved when he was sure he saw the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. He noticed she had dried blood on the side of her face and the hair above her temple was darker. 'She was hit in the head. She's just unconscious.'
"Jessie-"
"John Grant...FBI agent and son of a mob boss..." Roy Langston said from behind him. "Nice to finally meet you." He said stepping around and coming face to face with John. Steven Lewis stood next to him, a nervous grin on his face.
"Roy Langston...complete psycho. Steven Lewis...well, from what I've heard, you're a complete idiot." John said sarcastically.
Lewis stepped forward and punched John in the side of the face. John felt the inside of his cheek split. Lewis, then punched him in the left side, twice. The air left John's lungs immediately and he doubled over as far as his restraints would allow.
"Feel good?" Lewis asked. "Not bad for a complete idiot, huh?"
It took a few moments for John to straighten up and catch his breath. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" John smiled defiantly.
"More jokes. You think this is funny." Langston took his switch-blade from his pocket and put it at John's throat, pushing it forward to draw blood. "Where's that smile now, boy?" He brought the blade down and across making an 'L' shaped gash on the left side of John's chest. He grinned when John yelped.
John looked down and winced at the gash and the blood that ran from it, but he refused to let Roy Langston see the fear that was starting to grow inside him. "Sloppy," John looked up and into Langston's eyes. " I hope you don't carve the turkey on Thanksgiving."
Langston shook his head in disbelief of John's sarcasm, considering his situation. "If I didn't want your Father to see you die...I'd show you my carving skills, my friend" He brought the blade up again this time bringing it down hard and deep down John's side. He laughed when John cried out. The gash was deep, Langston could see the white bone of John's ribs gleaming through. "Oh, that's a nice one." He looked over at Lewis. "Down to the ribs...ouch."
John watched as blood soaked the top of his pants and he could feel it run down his leg. He looked down at his feet and saw a puddle of blood growing beneath them. A dark shadow crept up in the corners of his vision and was moving in fast, pulling him towards it. The darkness was warm. He let it take him without a fight.
"Looks like our boy's out." Langston grinned. He looked over at Jessie. "Hopefully that one will wake up soon. Krieger should be here with O'Doyle soon and then the real fun will begin. C'mon, I'm hungry. Are you hungry?"
Lewis followed Langston out of the room. 'He's gonna get us all killed.' He thought to himself.
Tbc...
