AU: Avast me hearties! Here be where the scumbags arrr... Pete discovers he is by no means the worst kind of person...
Trigger Warning: Attempted rape, discussion about paedophilia, offensive language, threat of death... please heed this warning and do not read if this will be an issue for you.
Chapter 29: Arrr... Here there be scumbags...
Thursday 18th March 2004 – 2205 hours – Warehouse, Kiowa – Pete Shanahan
What the hell was I doing here? It was about as far from civilisation as one could get without leaving the state. OK, maybe not, but it was far enough. That was my opinion, and I was sticking to it. Just because we were barely an hour outside of Colorado Springs was irrelevant as far as I was concerned. It was cold and the air smelled faintly of manure which wasn't an issue for me so much as the moaning from the other guys and the eventual drive home which would take over two hours. At least I didn't have to worry about being late for my shift since the chief put me on forced leave pending his stupid investigation into my extracurricular activities.
"Shit, man. What's that pong?" Arnold griped as he crossed the sparsely grassed area from the warehouse to the gate and lit up a cigarette. "Wanna a cig?" He asked me, offering the open packet.
"Nah, man. Quit that shit years ago." I replied, then looked into the darkness and pulled out a piece of gum. He snorted as I unwrapped the little flat piece of green stuff and popped it in my mouth.
"Whatever floats yer boat." He replied as he pulled the packet away and buried it in his pocket then grabbed his radio, puffed out cloud of smoke and pressed the button. "Radio check, Jed." He spoke into the radio.
"Check. Nothing happening. Over." Jed replied. Poor bastard was standing out the back with the annoying as hell flickering light.
"Acknowledged." Arnold replied, then took another drag of his cigarette, the end glowing bright orange in the unlit darkness. Not very stealthy, then again, we weren't expecting anyone. "Randy, you still kicking?" He asked the next guy.
"Yer. Boss wants the detective inside. The Doc's ready for the kid again." Randy replied. Arnold acknowledged while I sighed heavily.
"Why me? Little bitch screams her tits off at me every time." I complained with a snort.
"Yep. But she doesn't zap you and we can't send Jed, cos he'll try to fuck her. Randy ain't much better, though he'd only go for the older girl." Arnold responded then pulled a face. The hardened ex-Army Ranger had seen lotsa shit on deployment and had exactly zero tolerance for paedophiles. Jed was lucky Arnold hadn't killed him when he made a comment about the little kids sweet pussy, and now my skin was crawling again. That was the reason I went homicide in the first place. Dead bodies weren't nearly as disturbing as suggestive photos of children and the scum that got off on them.
What the fuck was I doing here?
Oh yeah, I needed the money after being relegated to the poor house by my lack of a wage. Well that, and they promised I'd get Samantha. Thankfully, the kid wasn't part of the package since she'd be packed off to some military research installation leaving me free to get my own brat in Samantha's belly. She'd be needing comfort when her ex kicked the bucket and the tragic news of the death of her daughter by unscrupulous kidnappers leaving me as the sympathetic police officer given the unfortunate task to report the demise of her child. Even if her fate was that of scientific research, she didn't deserve being on the receiving end of whatever Jed wanted her for.
"Sick bastard." I muttered, "I mean seriously, who gets off on that shit." I replied, getting sick to my stomach when I thought about the old woman and her teenage side piece that I saw through the window, then again at least that kid was old enough to understand what was going on.
Arnold snorted through another cloud of smoke. "Jed's always been fucked in the head. He'd have been injected long ago except he's good at killing folk and making it look accidental. Randy… well he just likes 'em young and tight. Much like that old biddy you mentioned, only she likes hers young, dumb and full of cum."
"Don't remind me. I didn't sign up to watch any of that crap. They'd better not touch either of them, or I swear to God, I'll stick my piece up their arse and pull the trigger." I groused. Arnold looked at me with dark eyes and nodded. It was then that I realised that he'd do it too.
"Go on, better git in there before the Colonel comes looking for ya." He said hooking his thumb over his shoulder then looked down at the dirt and scuffed his feet.
"Yeah, yeah." I replied laconically then turned on my heel and walked away from the front gate across the grassless patch of dirt and inside the broken-down warehouse that probably should have been condemned half a century ago.
"Hey." Randy murmured as I walked through the door. "The Colonel wants to see you before you get the girl." He didn't even look up from his new fandangled phone, something named after a piece of fruit that was apparently considered 'smart'. Whatever. Grunting my acknowledgement, I rubbed my hands together because it was cold in this hole of a joint as I walked past stacks of crates over to the makeshift laboratory that was nothing more than a bunch of fold-out tables set up in the middle of a cavernous room and two chairs. One with straps and the other without.
"Detective." Colonel Simmons drawled with that infectious false smile of his. "Allow me to introduce Brigadier General Kennedy." He stated as if this guy was someone terribly important. I'd heard his name from the smarmy flyboy Samuels and assumed he was the CO heading up this operation.
"Kennedy. Huh." I snorted. "I assume you received my reports." I queried since I had heard nothing back on any of them.
"I did, Detective." He replied with a clipped answer that offered no further explanation for why my complaints and the report about the grandmother canoodling with her grandson where not responded to. Maybe he needed help from actual law enforcement.
"Right. Any progress with them? If you need assistance, I know a number of people at the FBI who could provide that for you, since you probably don't have much experience with investigating crimes." I offered, making sure he knew that I was connected and a valued member of the Police establishment.
"You are too kind. I assure you, Detective, that those reports are being taken very seriously and have been given the attention that they deserve." He confirmed with a gracious smile. Good. I was looking forward bringing O'Neill down for his attempts on my life.
"There see, Detective. The General will ensure that the threats upon your person are dealt with swiftly. We can assure you that O'Neill will never see the light of day." The Colonel added jovially, then continued with a sudden look of resigned sadness, "His wife will be most distressed by his death." Then he smiled, "Perhaps a Detective – like you – could seek to comfort her during this most difficult time, don't you think General?" He finished his production with a question to his superior.
"Indeed." The General stated drily and without any emotion on his hard face. He wasn't the most animate or talkative of men.
"We are ready for the next test." The doctor stated while fiddling with some kind of centrifuge on his makeshift lab table.
"Which is?" The Colonel asked.
"Taking a vial of blood and pouring it over the cube device. I want to see if her blood holds the key or if it requires some measure of mental stimulation." He replied with a sickening look of vicarious wonder on his face. I imagined it was the same face that Jack the Ripper had pulled before he surgical mutilated his victims. The disturbing part about that face was that this was a little girl, and he wasn't taking her life before doing any of his macabre experiments. Looking at the General in his pristine blue uniform and chest full of medals, he didn't so much as flinch at the look on the doctors face.
"Are you sure? Don't you guys need her for something?" I asked, seeking clarification for the topic of a conversation I overheard earlier in the evening.
"Whatever to do you mean, Detective?" Simmons asked, that inquisitive false smile back on his face.
"Something about transport to Atlanta being secured." I queried. I thought I had heard 'Antarctica' when eavesdropping but that couldn't have been right. There was nothing but a bunch of research bases, ice, and a whole lot of penguins down there, so I figured I must have heard incorrectly. It was either Atlanta or Arizona, though almost 99% sure it was Atlanta.
"Atlanta. Yesss. Indeed. Transport has been secured." He replied with an unnaturally long ess sound on the 'yes'. He was a strange character.
"Good, so you'll do… whatever it is you're doing here before taking her to Atlanta and I'll be free to pursue her mother." I clarified, then added, "Just so we are on the same page, I don't want another man's child to raise." I stated, making my position on getting the daughter back completely transparent.
"Of course. We would not want to… inconvenience you, Detective." The General said, still without a lick of emotion on his stony face. Man, he really was a hard-arse prick.
"Good." I replied, then turned on my heel and walked towards the holding cells. As I approached, I heard a shrill cry and angry shout from the cells that was completely out of place.
"Hey! Leave her alone." The man yelled followed by the sound of fists banging on bars.
"No…NO! Don't touch me!" The teenage girl screamed. Swinging my head to the right, I noticed Randy was not at his post. Shit! Breaking into a jog, I rounded the corner and into the standalone office where the barred cells were ensconced to find that arsehole in the cell belonging to the girls, the older one forced into a kneeling position with her hands zip-tied to the bars and her jeans around her knees.
"Just hold still you bitch." Randy threatened while he fought to hold the struggling and screaming teenager in place with one hand, his other hand unbuttoning his own jeans. My protect and serve instinct kicked in immediately. They might be prisoners, but they deserved better than to be raped by a scumbag like him. Pulling my service pistol, I placed the muzzle on the side of his head just as he unleashed his turgid cock and placed it on her flesh.
"I wouldn't do that, if I were you." My threatening demeanour compounded when I chambered a round as proof that I was not fooling around.
"C'mon man, I ain't had a fuck in ages. Bin looking for a nice plump virgin girl." He responded then leaned towards the girl breaching her, the shrill scream and sob filling the room.
"NO!" The man in the cage beside them yelled, his arms reaching though to try and stop Randy, but she was pushed into the far corner of their cage meaning he wouldn't have been able to do anything to stop him assaulting her. "Do something! She's an innocent girl. Are you really doing to let this scum rape a girl? Huh!" He demanded while she sobbed, and the little girl huddled in the corner quietly crying.
"Get out, Randy." I ordered, pressing the muzzle of my gun harder into his temple. "They're not here for your sick obsession." After all, if I let him do this, I was no better than the old woman I caught fucking her grandson. It occurred to me then that this girl was probably older than the boy, which just made it all so much worse. This girl claimed to be Jack O'Neill's daughter, the boy was his son. Maybe the whole family was fucked up, but still, I wasn't going to let the arsehole in front of me stick his cock into her. It wasn't her fault her family were into violent assault and underage sex.
"Fine, but you better watch her around the clock, Detective, cos the minute you're not, I'll be waiting. Jed and me, we gonna get our dues." He baited me as he pulled away from the girl, slapped her bare arse and refastened his jeans, the whole time with my piece pointed toward him.
"Get out the front to relieve Arnold." I ordered as I reached out with my pocket knife and cut her wrist ties. There was no way I was leaving him posted inside while I wasn't watching the cells. He walked backwards with a sick smile and blew a kiss to the girl as she hurriedly righted her clothes and folded herself into the back corner with her little sister, the tears racing down her dirty face adding to the ragged ensemble framed by unbrushed and tangled hair.
"Sorry about that." I apologised as I stepped closer to the huddled duo and crouched down to get on their level. "The Doc wants to see you." I said to the little girl, her big sister pulling her tighter against her.
"Go to hell. She's not a lab rat." The teenager berated, then spit in my face.
"I can get him back if you'd prefer." I threatened as I wiped her spittle of my cheek. It was an empty threat because I'd kill Randy if I found him trying that shit on again. The girl scowled at me but did not let her sister go. I hadn't given Arnold's words much heed when he mentioned Randy simply because my brain was focused on Jed's unhealthy obsession with children.
"Go. To. Hell." She repeated forceful. Looking at the man in the other cage, I remembered when the Colonel threatened his life to force compliancy, so I stood, took a step back and pointed my full primed piece towards him.
"Well then, you leave me with no alternative." I stated. When neither girl moved, I aimed above his shoulder and pulled the trigger, the bullet lodging in the crate behind the barred cage.
"NO! Uncle Charlie." The little girl screamed and leapt out of her sister's arms. With a swift movement, I had her over my shoulder and backed out of the cage before either of them realised that her precious Uncle Charlie had not been injured. Slamming the door shut before the teenager could muscle her way out – thankful for the auto-latching locks that did not require me to turn a key – I turned and walked back towards the laboratory.
"Gracie!" The man yelled in concert with the sister screaming for me to 'Leave her alone!', her fists banging on the bars. Stepping outside, I listened for a while. The little girl had sagged over my shoulder and went quiet. She did this whenever I retrieved her. If she weren't so young, I would have said it was some form of meditation.
"Cassie. She'll be fine." The man called Charlie said. "Trust me, I know." He murmured, and the banging stopped. Peering back through the office door, I saw that she had gone to shared barred wall. His arms were threaded through the bars and holding her tight as she huddled and cried.
Resuming my trudge back to the lab, I walked past the entrance, just as Arnold walked inside. He nodded once, then took up his position where Randy had been. I felt better knowing he was in here rather than one of those other two. While I had no particular attachment to either of the O'Neill girls, they were both innocents and did not deserve to be inducted into the world of sicko's and arseholes, even if their father was one.
A/N: If you remember the earlier chapter... Kennedy's version of 'due attention' for Pete's report was the shredding machine...