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TITLE: To Destroy the Things We Love.
AUTHOR: Allison A.Hunter.
E-MAIL: Scribe5@hotmail.com
RATING: G.
SUMMARY: Bad things happen to the gang in a bid to stop Mark
giving evidence
at a trial.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, CBS and Viacom do. I
only borrowed
them for a little bit of fun. No profit is being made from this.
The emergency room at Community General was buzzing. A four car
pile up on PCH had brought nine patients in and a 15 year old
girl who's OD'd was fighting for life in Trauma 3.
Head of Internal Medicine Dr Mark Sloan was overseeing the work
of the emergency staff, moving from one gurney to the next to
check injuries and watch for possible complications.
No-one noticed therefore when the ER door was pushed open six
inches and a cannister rolled across the floor. Dr Jesse Travis
heard it hissing as it approached and had time onmly to say
"What the...?" when it burst open, filling the
department with smoke.
Instantly alarms went off, staff started shouting and patients
began to scream as all hell broke loose.
Half an hour later Detective Steve Sloan pulled his department
car into the hospital parking lot and sat open mouthed at the
scene before him. Patients and staff filled the area in front of
the ER. Ambulances were arriving one after the other to take
patients away. He got out of the car and strode across the lot
until he spotted his father's silver hair in the crowd.
"Dad!" he called, shouldering his way through.
"What happened? Did you have a fire?"
Mark Sloan turned to his son, shaking his head wearily. "No,
no fire, just some idkiot who threw a smoke bomb into the
building. We've had to evacuate everyone and move them to other
hospitals. I can't believe anyone would be so stupid."
"Gee, I'm sorry" said Steve. "Real stupid
prank."
Mark nodded and put his hand on his son's arm. "What brings
you here anyhow Steve?"
Steve shrugged. "Well, I was going to ask Amanda for an
autopsy report but I guess that's out of the question for now.
I'll come back in the morning. See you tonight?"
His father nodded. "Yes, once we get all this cleared
up."
"OK" said Steve. "See you later". He headed
back to his car and Mark sighed and walked back into the crowd of
staff and patients.
By 7 p.m. things were back to normal and Dr Jesse Travis was
preparing to go off duty. Shrugging off his lab coat he opened
his locker and took out his jacket. He gasped. The back of it was
torn to shreds, lacerated by a sharp instrument.
"I don't believe this!" he said, cursing.
Pushing out of the locker room he spotted Mark at the nurses
station and hurried over. "Mark, look what some moron has
done to my jacket!"
Mark look in horror at the torn clothing. "Where was it
Jesse?"
"In my locker!" shouted the young doctor. "I've
only had it a month and now it's ruined."
Mark shook his head. "I'm awful sorry Jesse. Something's
going on here and I don't like it one bit! Are you coming out to
the house for dinner?"
"Yea" said a dejected Jesse, still studying the remains
of his jacket.
"Come on" said Mark. "I'll walk you out to the
parking lot."
They walked out of the hospital together and split up to head for
their own cars. Mark stopped dead in front of his beloved sports
car. The two tires he could see had been slashed. He walked round
the car and wasn't surprised to see the two on the other side in
the same state. Looking up he saw Jesse about to climb into his
car. "Hey, Jesse wait up - you can take me with you."
Puzzled, Jesse stepped back out of his car. "Why, what's
wrong Mark?" he asked.
Mark walked over to him. "All my tires have been
slashed."
"What?" gasped Jesse. "What is this all
about?"
"I wish I knew" said the older doctor. "I wish I
knew."
When they got to the beach house they saw Amanda's car and
Steve's truck in the driveway and without saying anything were
each glad they were all going to be together for the evening
after such a terrible day.
They climbed the stairs and entered the lounge. Steve and Amanda
were sitting on the couch. Steve had his arm round her shoulder
and her face was buried in his broad chest. For a moment Mark
thought he was witnessing a
romantic moment then he noticed Amanda's shoulders moving up and
down and realised she was crying.
"Steve?" he asked.
Steve looked up, grim-faced. He tightened his grip on Amanda's
shoulder and said quietly. "Someone killed Amanda's
kitten."
"Oh no" said Mark. "Are you sure it wasn't an
accident?"
Amanda sobbed and Steve held her closer as he shook his head.
Quietly he said: "It was nailed to her door."
Mark and Jesse gasped and went over to the couch. Mark sat beside
Amanda and Jesse knelt in front of her, taking her hand. Jesse
looked at Steve; "What's going on Steve? The smoke bomb, my
jacket ripped, Mark's car tires slashed and now this."
"What!" exclaimed Steve, since he hadn't known about
the other incidents until now. "I don't know" he
answered, still holding Amanda close. "But it's getting
uglier by the minute."
Amanda finally straightened up and Mark gave her a handkerchief.
"Thanks guys" she said. "It was horrible. Thank
God the boys are away just now. I don't know how I'm going to
tell them."
Mark patted her knee. "Let's get some food organised and
maybe we'll all feel a bit better."
They ate well and chatted as friends do. After dinner Steve and
Jesse settled down to watch a football game on TV and Amanda
helped Mark clear up.
An hour later as they all sat round the TV Mark said:
"Amanda, Jesse, after the day it's been why don't you both
stay here. Amanda, you said the boys were away and you're on your
own anyway Jesse. At least if you're both here you're safe."
Jesse didn't hesitate. "That's great Mark. I'd love
to." With that he slipped off his shoes and put his feet on
the coffee table, only to have them batted off by Steve who said:
"We said you could stay, not act like you
do at home."
Jesse sulked and the others laughed.
"Amanda?" asked Mark.
Amanda smiled. "Thanks Mark, I'd like that. I don't think I
could have faced going back to the house tonight."
Mark slapped his hands on his knees. "Right, that's settled
then. Who's for hot chocolate?"
There were murmurs of agreement and Steve held up his hand.
"You guys go ahead but I'm off to bed. I've got a load of
work to get through tomorrow." He stood and headed for the
stairs, calling "Goodnight everyone" over his shoulder
as he went.
Once downstairs in his own apartment Steve threw some clothes in
the laundry basket and put on some music while he showered. It
was a warm night so he decided just to sleep in his shorts and
climbed into bed, reaching out to switch off the light on the
nightstand as he did so.
His scream was heard upstairs!
Mark, Amanda and Jesse shouted: "Steve!" in one voice
and raised for the stairs. Mark reached the bedroom door first
and threw on the light. Steve was lying gasping in bed, his eyes
shocked, his face creased with pain. In
two strides Mark was at his side. "Steve, what is it, what
happened?"
"I don't know" Steve groaned in a voice filled with
pain. "Something...in...the bed!"
His father threw back the cover and behind him Jesse said:
"Oh my God!"
The sheet was covered in blood. Mark reached out to try and see
his son's injuries. What he saw was a blade sticking through the
mattress from underneath, positioned to impale whoever lay on the
bed. Steve must have dropped and rolled causing the blade to stab
him then slash along his side. "Steve, don't move until we
check the rest of the bed," Mark said.
He pulled the covers right the way off but the rest of the
mattress was clear. The knife had been placed where it wouldn't
fail to do damage. "Steve," his father said, "I
normally wouldn't move you but you can't stay there."
He looked up. "Jesse would you get me a clean towel out of
the bathroom closet."
Jesse raced away and was back in seconds. Mark eased Steve into a
sitting position and pressed the towel against his wounds.
"We're taking you upstairs son," he said. "Let us
help you."
Together they manhandled Steve off the bed. He cried out in pain
as they pulled him upright then gradually they made their way up
the stairs to the lounge. "Put him on the settee" said
his father,"At least we know that's
safe."
As gently as they could they laid him down on the couch so he was
lying on his good side. Mark turned: "Amanda, would you get
my medical bag from my bedroom please, and Jesse could you go
round the house and check the rest of the beds, and please be
careful."
Amanda was back in a minute and saw how worried Mark looked. The
older doctor knelt on the floor beside the couch and said:
"Steve I want you to roll over a little onto your front so I
can see how bad this is. Think you
can do that?"
Steve's eyes were closed, his lips pressed together. He nodded.
"OK" said his father. "Gently does it."
Steve rolled over, crying out as the movement moved the torn
flesh and muscle. Amanda knelt by his head and stroked his hair.
"It's going to be alright Steve. You dad will help
you."
Steve nodded slightly, his eyes still closed and she knew he was
using all his concentration to fight the pain.
Mark carefully examined the stab wound. It was deeper than he'd
hoped it might be. Of course his son was a big man and his weight
had forced the blade further in. Blood was still seeping out of
the wound at an alarming rate. Mark took some sterile pads out of
his bag and covered the stab wound and slash. Almost immediately
he could see the red stain blush through the gauze.
Just then Jesse came back. "All the other beds are clear.
How's Steve doing?"
Mark looked up at the young doctor. "I'm afraid we're not
going to be sleeping in any of these beds tonight. This wound is
far deeper than I can safely handle here at home. We're going to
have to get him to the hospital. Amanda would you call 911?"
Steve finally opened his eyes. "No Dad, not the hospital.
I'll be fine. Just let me rest for a little while."
Mark put his hand on his son's shoulder. "Rest isn't going
to make this better. You're losing way too much blood."
When the ambulance arrived the paramedics checked Steve's vital
signs. "Blood pressure is low" one told Mark, "but
that's only to be expected with the blood loss."
Carefully they transferred Steve to a stretcher and set up an IV
to keep up his fluid levels then moved him out to the ambulance.
Mark travelled with Steve to the hospital while Amanda and Jesse
followed. Within minutes of arriving Steve was wheeled off to OR
and Mark, Amanda and Jesse headed for the staff lounge to wait.
Forty minutes later the tannoy announced: "Phone call for Dr
Sloan."
Puzzled Mark rose and picked up the wall phone in the lounge.
"Yes,this is Dr Sloan" he said.
A male voice laughed at the other end. "It's so easy to
destroy the things we love isn't it?"
Angrily Mark demanded: "Who is this?"
The voice continued. "You give evidence at the trial next
week and next time the knife could be in your son's throat or one
of that pretty little doctor's kids or your friend Travis' back.
You think it's worth the risk? I suggest you get amnesia real
quick doc before there are any more little accidents."
With that he rang off, leaving Mark staring open mouthed at the
handset.
Jesse saw his expression. "What is it Mark? Who was
that?"
Mark replaced the handset and slowly came over and sat down.
"It was a threat. These have been warnings to get me not to
give evidence at the Bannister trial next week."
Amanda leaned forward, coffee mug cupped in her hands.
"You're not going to pay attention to this threat are you
Mark? You can't give in to people like that."
Mark ran his hand over his face and shook his head. "Whoever
it was threatened all of you if I testify - threatened your boys
Amanda - how could I risk that?"
Amanda was shocked that her boys had been mentioned and for a
moment didn't know what to say. Jesse stood up. "You can't
let people like that get away Mark, you know that."
Mark looked up at his young friend. "Even although they said
next time it would be your back instead of your jacket
Jesse?"
Jesse sat back down with a "Wow!"
Just then an orderly came into the staff room and said: "Dr
Sloan, your son has been taken to recovery."
Mark thanked him and stood. "I want to be there when he
wakes up, we'll talk about this later."
With that he strode out of the room.
In recovery Steve was still asleep, hooked up to an IV and
monitors. His surgeon Dr Montgomery was checking his vitals when
Mark stepped into the room. "Mark," he said, "when
are you going to stop bringing him in here. Hasn't he learned to
duck yet?"
Mark smiled despite the seriousness of the situation. "I
know David but this time it really wasn't his fault. In fact if
it was anyone's it was mine."
The other doctor looked puzzled but Mark continued: "How
did the procedure go?"
Dr Montgomery hooked a clipboard over the side of Steve's bed and
said: "It was a deep wound but we've repaired the tissue
damage and stitched up the slash. We had to give him blood
because he'd lost quite a bit by the time we got him but apart
from being very sore he sould be alright. He'll be waking up in
the next few minutes so I'll leave you with him."
Mark smiled. "Thanks for all your help David."
The other man patted Mark's shoulder and left the room. Mark
pulled a chair up to the side of his son's bed and watched the
gentle rise of and fall of his chest. There were so many times he
had feared for his son's life as he fought crime on the streets
it was hard to believe he'd been so badly hurt in his own bed.
He saw Steve's head move slightly and his eyes flicker and waited
while his son slowly came round from the anaesthetic. Finally he
said: "Hi, how're you doing?"
Steve slowly turned his head at the sound of his father's voice.
"Where am I?"
Mark put his hand on Steve's shoulder. "You're in the
hospital. Don't you remember what happened?"
Steve looked puzzled. "I went to bed - at home. Why am I in
the hospital?"
Mark knew Steve was still fuzzy from the anaesthetic and
patiently told him: "Someone put a blade in your bed to hurt
you. You landed on it when you went down to sleep."
Steve grimaed and nodded. "Oh yea, I remember now. What's
the damage?"
Mark leaned forward in his chair and put his hands on the bed.
"You have quite a deep stab wound and a cut along your side
where you must have rolled across the blade. Dr Montgomery has
repaired the damage but you'll have to take things easy for a
while."
Steve ran his left hand over his face. "Is it ok if I have a
drink of water?"
Mark poured some water into a glass and helped Steve raise his
head to drink. He felt the tremor in his son's neck from the
effort of trying to raise himself and taking the glass away said:
"That's enough Steve. Lay back down again. You don't want to
strain that wound."
Steve obediently did as he was told and lay back on the pillow,
breathing deeply from the effort. Just then Dr Montgomery
returned to the room. "Our patient awake I see," he
said. "In that case we'll be moving him to a room in the
next few minutes. I'll have you paged Mark once he's
settled."
Dr Sloan thanked his colleague and with a "see you in a
little while" to his son left the room.
Drs Sloan, Travis and Bentley spent the night sleeping at the
hospital and all three met up at the door of Steve's room first
thing next morning. Mark looked round the door and Steve's eyes
opened at the sound. "Hi son" said Mark. "Up for a
little company? There's people here want to see you."
"Sure" said Steve. "Come on in."
The three crowded into the room and positioned themselves round
Steve's bed. "How you feeling this mornign?" Amanda
asked.
Steve made a face. "Like everything is going to burst open
if I sneeze."
Jesse smiled. "That's just the wound tightening up. Don't
worry, you can sneeze if you want to."
Mark was standing at his son's shoulder, his hands in his lab
coat pockets. "Do you want something for the pain?" he
asked.
Steve shook his head. "Nah, I can handle it at the moment.
If it gets worse I'll ask one of the nurses. Anything else happen
that I should know about?"
The other three exchanged glances and Mark said: "No,
everything's quiet."
Steve turned his blue eyes up to his father's face. "Dad,
you're a lousy liar. What else has happened? I know there's
something."
Jesse gripped the end of the bed and leaned forward excitedly.
"Your Dad got a phonecall last night after you were brought
in. It explained why these things have been happening."
"Really!" exclaimed Steve, trying to sit up and gasping
in pain as he slumped back onto his pillow.
"Now Steve that's exactly why I didn't say anything"
said Mark, glaring at Jesse. "You'll just get upset and do
something stupid."
Steve spread his hands over the covers, indicating his position.
"I'm not in a position to do anything stupid. In case you
hadn't noticed I can't even go to the bathroom."
Mark knew it was useless keeping anything from his son. He knew
he'd just keep badgering him till he found out. "OK" he
sighed. "A male voice on the phone said these things were
hapapening because I was due to give evidence at the Bannister
trial next week and if I wanted them to stop then I should
develop amnesia."
"Jeez" whispered Steve. "You're not going to pull
out of the trial are you Dad?"
Mark looked at his son, lying pale faced and bandaged in the
hospital bed. "Look what they've done already," he
said. "I can't put any more people at risk."
Steve looked at Amanda and Jesse. "You don't go along with
this do you?"
The pair looked uncomfortable and Mark answered for tehm.
"The telephone threat included them Steve. It mentioned
Amanda's boys and Jesse. It's not fair to ask them a question
like that."
Amanda perched one hip on Steve's bed and gently took his hand.
"You're right Steve. I wasn't thinking straight. We can't
give in to these kind of threats. You've been hurt more than
anyone so far and you're willing to go
ahead."
She looked at the older doctor. "Mark, I think you should go
ahead. Once Bannister is in jail it's pointless to go on with
these threats. Nothing's going to get him out again. Jesse what
do you think?"
Three pairs of eyes turned to the young doctor. "What the
heck. I can keep looking over my shoulder for a week huh?"
Two days later Steve was allowed home on the strict understanding
that he did nothing to strain himself. There were four days to go
to the trial and Mark decided to take some time due and spend it
at home with his son.
Steve was resting on the couch, watching TV late in the afternoon
while Mark sat nearby reading a medical journal. They both looked
up from what they were doing when they heard the sound of a car
drawing up outside. Mark rose and looked out of the window. A
police squad car stood outside and two uniformed officers were
approaching the door.
"Who is it Dad?" Steve asked, looking over the back of
the couch.
"Police squad car" said Mark. "You Chief must have
sent them over."
"He never said anything" replied Steve, turning off the
TV with the remote and stiffly sitting up.
Mark opened his front door before the officers had time to knock.
"Hello officers. What can I do for you?" he asked
smiling.
"We stopped by to check on the Lieutenant" said the
first man.
Mark stepped back to allow them into the house and closed the
door after them. Steve looked round and frowned. "Don't
think I know you guys do I? You new to the precinct?"
The first policeman smiled. "We're not with the LAPD".
Steve felt an uncomfortable knot in his stomach as his dad
stepped forward and asked: "Well who are you with?"
The second officer unholstered his gun and pointed it at Mark.
"Let's just say we're with Bannister's force. And we're
heare to make sure you don't do anything stupid at the
trial."
Mark gasped and Steve tried to get up from the couch but his
wound hampered his movements. The first policeman was instantly
at his side, his weapon now drawn too and pointed at Steve's
head. "Mr Bannister decided it was too risky waiting to see
if you'd take his advice so he sent us to collect a little
insurance."
With that he grabbed Steve's arm and said: "Out the door
pig" pushing him across the room. Steve stumbled against the
dining table and groaned.
"Please don't hurt him" Mark said, the gun still
trained on him.
"You'll get him back if you keep your mouth shut doc"
said the first officer.
Roughtly the two men took Steve out to their car and Mark saw one
of them strike him on teh back of the head with the butt of a gun
before pushing him into the back seat. He felt tears sting his
eyes as the car sped away.
Ten minutes later he heard another car and looked out to see
Jesse and Amanda approach the house and remembered they'd said
they'd call round to see how Steve was doing. He hurried to the
door and opened it for them.
"Hi Mark," said Jesse. "How's our boy doing?"
Mark couldn't speak. His dark eyes were bloodshot and watery, his
face grey. Amanda reached out and took his arm. "Mark, waht
is it? What's happened?"
Tears began to stream down the older doctor's face. "They
took Steve Amanda."
"What?" said Jesse. "Who took Steve?"
Amanda guided Mark into the house and sat him down. "What
happened Mark?" she asked gently.
He took a deep breath. "Two men dressed like police officers
came to the house. They said Bannister had sent them to collect
some insurance and tehy took Steve away. They...they hit
him over the head before the put him in the car. He's too weak
still from surgery to take that kind of treatment."
Amanda put her arms round Mark and hugged him. "We'll get
him back Mark. Don't worry. We'll get Steve back."
Mark looked at his friends, his face wet with tears. "I
can't testify now. I can't risk my son's life."
It was dark when Steve came to. He was lying on a hard floor and
his head hurt. He was lying on his injured side and the wound
ached from the pressure. He tried to ease himself onto his back
and realised his hands were
tied together.
He heard a sound like bells ringing, tinkling gently outside
somewhere. He could smell brine and could just make out a coil of
thick ropes lying nearby. The tinkling sounded like yacht rigging
blowing in the wind and he guessed he must be in a boat shed
somewhere.
A door opened and footsteps approached him. A torch shone
brightly in his eyes and rough hands pulled him into a sitting
position. "Here, drink this" a voice ordered as a
plastic cup was pressed against his mouth. He spluttered as he
gagged on the liquid. It was water. "Don't want you dead
just yet," said the voice, laughing.
He groaned as he was pushed back down onto the stone floor.
"You'd better hope your old man comes to his senses
Sloan," the voice said, "or else we may just use you
for fish bait."
He laughed again and strode off, closing and locking a door
behind him.
Steve rolled onto his back and moaned. Then gingerly he began to
move his hands in a bid to get the rope off his wrists. After an
hour he was exhausted and he could feel blood oozing out of the
wounds on his arms where the ropes had rubbed his flesh raw. He
tried to stay awake but fell into a fitful sleep.
At the beach house Chief Masters was pacing the floor of Mark's
living room. "Didn't you see anything that might help?"
he asked in exasperation as he stared at Mark.
Mark was tired and haggard, his usually cheeful face grey and
drawn. "I thought they were police officers," he said
for the hundredth time. "They wore uniforms and they drove a
squad car. There was nothing else. They just swept in here and
took Steve and disappeared and now they're holding him God knows
where and I can't do anything to help him."
Amanda gripped Mark's shoulder. "Don't upset yourself Mark.
Steve's strong. He can look after himself."
Mark looked at her, knowing she was only trying to help but shook
his head nevertheless. "He's got a stab wound in his side
and probably concussion Amanda. There's not much he can do in a
state like that."
Jesse came into the room and walked up to the Chief. "I've
been doing some checking. Bannister was mainly concerned in yacht
charters and fishing excursions. That's how he laundered his
money anyhow. So maybe they've got Steve on one of their boats or
at a yard."
Chief Masters nodded. "We've thought of that. I've got men
checking all the wharfs and boatsheds we know Bannister is
associated with. But they could be holding him anywhere. They
could have taken him into the country for all we know. we just
have to follow procedure and keep our fingers crossed."
Mark stood up angrily. "You can cross whatever you like
Chief but procedure may not be quick enough to save my son. I'm
going out to find him for myself."
"Mark!" shouted Amanda. "You can't. You don't know
where to look any more than the police do."
"No" said Mark, turning and lifting his jacket from a
chair. "But I'll be looking with a lot more reason than
them. He's my son!"
With that he stamped out of the house. Amanda and Jesse glanced
at each other and both said together. "We'd better go with
him" and ran after their friend, leaving the Chief alone and
bemused in the room.
They took Amanda's car since there was more room in it than
Jesse's. "So where to?" she asked, turning onto the
highway.
"Bannister has two warehouses down on the wharf" said
Mark. "That's where I saw him the night he handed over the
money to the drug runners. He's also got several small boat yards
from where he runs his so called legitimate business. Strikes me
a warehouse would be a convenient place to keep someone out of
the way for a few days."
Jesse whistled through his teeth. "Gee Mark, it's a bit of a
long shot isn't it? I mean the police are bound to have tried
there."
Mark shook his head. "Maybe not Jesse. There's a lot of
property to search. They may not have got that far yet."
"OK" said Amanda. "Give me directions and we'll
give it a try. It can't hurt."
It was cold lying on the concrete floor. Steve shivered and
groaned as the movement sent a spasm of pain through the wound in
his side. His head wasn't so sore now after his sleep and he went
back to trying to remove the ropes from his wrists. Slowly he
felt them loosening, lubricated by the blood that was seeping
through them. He lay still as he heard the door open again. There
was more light now in the shed and he saw the denimed legs
approaching him. A second pair of feet followed and he looked up
as his abductors once more pulled him into a sitting position.
The cup was pushed again his mouth again and he was ordered to
drink. He swallowed a mouthful and took a second gulp. This time
he held the liquid in his mouth and spsat it at the man nearest
to him.
The man cursed and cuffed him roughly across the face with the
back of his hand. The second man crashed his booted foot into
Steve's injured side. "There's plenty more of that if you
want it" a voice said gruffly as the men left.
He lay fighting for breath and told himself "Good move
Sloan." He felt nauseous and knew the kick had opened the
stitches in his side. He put his head down on the concrete and
went back to concentrating on the ropes holding his hands.
Amanda drew the car to a stop in an alleyway between two
warehouses. The three got out and she said: "Which
one?"
Mark looked from one to the other. "Bannister owns both.
We'll just have to check them both out."
Tentatively they moved forward towards the door nearest them. It
was locked. They walked further round the building, trying doors
and windows as they went. Jesse stopped and held up his hands.
"This is useless. We can't check them out if we can't get
inside."
"We'll get inside don't worry" said Mark, continuing on
his way.
The ropes finally slid from his bloodied hands and Steve groaned
as he eased his strained shoulders and pulled his arms in front
of his body. He felt very weak but forced himself to his knees
and then his feet. A wave of dizziness swept over him and he
stumbled against some crates, grabbing anxiously at them to stop
them falling over.
Now that he was standing he could see round the room he was in.
It appeared to be a store with nets and lines and ropes piled
around. There was only one door, through which his abductors had
come. At shoulder level he saw a grimy window with a rusting
catch. Pushing a crate under the window he pulled himself
painfully on top of the crate and pushed the window catch. It
gave easily. He pushed the window open and felt fresh air on his
face. Carefully he pulled himself onto the ledge. A wave of
nausea hit him again and he lost his balance and fell to the
ground outside, sending fire shooting through his chest and side.
Inside his abductors had heard the noise and rushed into the
room. Seeing the flapping window they raced back out of the
store, through the warehouse and outside onto the wharf.
Two police squad cars and a posse of armed police were
positioned outside, weapons pointed at the warehouse. A bullhorn
bellowed at them to drop their weapaons and lie flat on the
ground. They immediately did as they were told.
At that moment Mark, Jesse and Amanda appeared round the side of
the neighbouring building. Chief Masters put down his bullhorn
and strode over to them. "We can take care of our own Dr
Sloan" he said sarcastically.
"Have you found Steve?" Mark yelled.
Masters shook his head. "We haven't been inside yet. Maybe
you should let us go first - just in case."
He didn't say just in case of what and Mark didn't press him. He
didn't want to think what they might find.
Masters led four police officers into the building as others
bundled the abductors into cars. Mark, Amanda and Jesse stood
waiting expectantly outside but Masters came out alone and Mark
swallowed hard, scared to death to hear what he might have to
say.
"He's snot here!" said the Chief.
"What?" said Mark, disappointment washing over him.
"He's been here," said the Chief. "There's
bloodied ropes in a store room but a window's been busted open
and I think he might have escaped."
"Dad!" a weak voice called from a corner of the
building.
Mark whirled round to see Steve leaning against the wall, blood
on his face, his side and his arms. As he ran towards him Steve
collapsed onto the wharf.
Mark dropped to his knees beside his son, frightened to touch him
in case he hurt him anymore. Masters ran up to his side.
"Ambulance is on its way. How is he doc?"
"I don't know" said Mark. "Judging by the blood
and marks on his shirt he's been kicked on his wound." He
looked at his son's wrists, skin bloodied and torn. "He must
have done this getting out of the ropes."
Amanda and Jesse knelt beside their friends, one unconscious and
the other worried sick, and waited for the ambulance.
The soft whirr of monitoring machines was all that broke the
silence in the room. Mark, Jesse and Amanda were sitting round
the bed, watching Steve's chest rise and fall, listening to the
rhythmic beep of the heard monitor.
Steve's hand flinched gently on the sheet and Amanda looked up,
touching Mark's arm. "He's coming round Mark" she said.
Mark turned his weary eyes to his son's face. Steve's eyes
sluggishly opend and his friends watched as he fought the
anaesthetic to focus on the room. He lookef from one to the next
of them and smiled his famous lop-sided smile. "Why is it
every time I wake up you guys are in my room?" he asked.
Mark stroked his son's hair. "Because we all love you son,
that's why."
"Mhhm" said Steve. "I love you guys too.
Thanks."
Amanda squeezed Mark's hand. "We got him back Mark.
Everything's going to be alright."
Mark sighed. "yes, we got him back - thank God."
They watched as Steve drifted off to sleep again and settled down
to spend the night with him in his room.
END