Abduction

'

Disclaimer:  I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein.  I receive no compensation or any other tangible benefit from this story.  I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then.  🙂

*****

Chapter 1

Prologue

It was a Sunday evening in San Francisco.  A quiet sort of evening, with a full moon just over the eastern horizon, and the kind of tranquility that came at the conclusion of a busy day.

It was just the kind of evening Nicholas liked.

This was usually when he chose to do those mundane tasks such as grocery shopping - when he could avoid the normal hustle and bustle of the city and just bask in the twilight serenity.   Usually, there wasn't a lot of excitement on an evening like this.

Usually.

As Nicholas pushed his grocery cart out into the crisp evening air, he glanced toward the place where he knew he'd parked his BMW.  He spotted three or four individuals standing close to the car, but assumed they belonged to one of the vehicles parked next to him.

That is, until he heard the unmistakable sound of glass breaking.  His glass.

"Hey!" Nicholas yelled, forsaking his cart and picking up speed as he approached his BMW.  "What do you think you're doing?"

"What's it to you, old man?" sneered one of two younger men standing beside his vehicle - the one who had just popped the left-hand window.

"Get the hell away from my car!" Nicholas bellowed, in the loudest voice he could muster.  He cast a lightning-quick glance around the parking lot, hoping to spot someone - security guard, spectator, store employee, anyone - who might be able to help.

But there was nobody.  And Nicholas wasn't on a mission, so he hadn't thought to bring his communicator along.

"This is our car now, pal," sneered the second man, distracting Nicholas momentarily and causing him to turn his head from the other man, who promptly stuck out his foot and kicked it forcefully across Nicholas' ankles.  The agent fell hard to the ground.

Undaunted, but clearly favoring one foot, Nicholas forced himself to get back to his feet.  "Not if I can help it," he countered.  He locked arms with the man who had tripped him, in a test of strength, and the two began to scuffle, with Nicholas leaning heavily on his opponent.

Despite the pain, the agent held his own for a bit, but suddenly the battle was interrupted by a hard blow to the back of the head - after which Nicholas knew nothing more.

Chapter 2

Tuesday morning

Max pulled his red sports car into the parking area of Jim's condo, having been summoned by the elder team leader for a new mission an hour before.  Grant and Shannon had already arrived, but Max was mildly surprised to see that Nicholas' black BMW was not there yet.  Still, Max figured his friend was on his way, so he climbed out of his vehicle and went inside.

Shortly after Max exchanged greetings with his other teammates, Jim pushed a button to turn on his computer, a clear indication that he was ready to start the briefing.  Max frowned.

"Where's Nicholas?"

"I'll tell you in a bit, Max," Jim answered, his voice quiet.  A sudden nervous chill went through the blond agent's body as he and the others sat down and turned their attention to their leader.

"During the past month, half a dozen higher-end vehicles have disappeared from shopping mall parking lots," Jim began.  "Though the police are unsure of the motive, the thefts are apparently related.  The footage from surveillance cameras seems to point to the same unknown group of perpetrators."

As he spoke, Jim pushed a few buttons on his keyboard and the video screen split into four separate pictures.  Though the footage was grainy, the three younger team members could make out the fuzzy images of two men and two women in each frame.  They all looked to be in their early twenties.

Shannon's face reflected the same confusion that was evident on her teammates' faces.  "But, Jim, why are we involved?  Couldn't the police just handle it?"

Jim sighed audibly.  "Because two nights ago was the first time they took a hostage," he said softly.  He pushed a button on the keyboard, and the lower right frame zoomed to full screen.

The teammates watched nervously as the video footage began to play.  The four thieves began to gather around a dark colored vehicle.  From the camera angle, the BMW logo could be clearly seen, and the familiarity of it caused each agent's stomach to lurch with dread.

The criminals took turns circling the car, peering inside.  Then one of the men busted the driver's side window with his elbow.  Suddenly, from the left side of the screen a familiar dark-haired figure came into sight.

"That's Nicholas!" Max exclaimed tensely, verbalizing what they'd all just concluded.

Though there was no sound, it was obvious to the teammates that there'd been a verbal confrontation that had quickly turned physical.  They watched, hardly daring to breathe, as Nicholas was tripped, then shakily got to his feet again and began to grapple with the man who had busted his window.  Then they gasped in horror as the other young man took his forearm and bashed their friend in the back of the head.

Nicholas crumpled to the ground.  One of the women fumbled in his pocket for the car keys, then she tossed them to the first man.  She helped the assailant stuff the dark-haired agent into their vehicle - a lighter-colored station wagon - while the first man and the other woman jumped into Nicholas' BMW and sped off after them.

From the time Nicholas had entered the frame to their departure had taken just over sixty seconds.

Jim stopped the video and looked at his teammates, the worry in his eyes only mildly concealed.  "Neither Nicholas nor his car have been seen or heard from since."

"If anything happens to him..." Max growled, making no effort to hide either the concern or the anger in his voice.

Grant laid a hand on his impulsive friend's shoulder.  "Easy, Max," he said in a half-whisper.  "How did you find out, Jim?" he asked the elder agent, in almost the same tone.

"Your police officer friend, Todd Spencer," Jim replied.  Spencer was a local law enforcement agent who consulted with Grant on technical matters from time to time, and who had met the entire team once previously when a crazed former student was stalking Nicholas.   "He's been investigating the carjackings and reviewing all of the surveillance videos.  When this one reached his desk, he recognized Nicholas and got in touch with me." Jim smiled slightly at Grant.  "He offered his assistance in whatever capacity we might need him."

"Does he have any leads yet?" Shannon wanted to know.

Jim shook his head.  "None of the stolen cars have been recovered, and all of the camera footage has been too poor to make any positive identification." He paused, and his voice dropped a few decibels.  "And, of course, we don't yet know if they will make a ransom demand."

Max stood up suddenly, unable to contain his nervous energy any longer.  "Well, we can't just wait around to see what they're going to do," he said urgently.  "We have to find Nicholas now."

"We will, Max," Jim promised.  "We will."

Chapter 3

Sunday evening

Nicholas returned to consciousness with a start, as he felt two hands jerk him up from whatever half-sitting, half-lying position he'd been in previously.  With lightning speed, a black band was wrapped around his eyes and pulled tight in the back, putting pressure on his already aching head and causing his senses to fade out momentarily.

Then the hands picked him up and roughly carried him several yards.  Nicholas couldn't keep from crying out as his injured foot bounced against the hard ground below him.

"Shut up!" a male voice bellowed, shaking the agent slightly.

In an attempt to distract himself from the crippling pain, Nicholas searched his memory in order to figure out what had gotten him there in the first place.  Leaving the grocery store.  Seeing the strangers damage his car.  Confronting them.  Getting knocked to the ground.  Then... nothing until this moment.

As he pondered his plight, he was unceremoniously dropped - or, rather, thrown - onto a hard floor.

"What the hell are we going to do with a hostage?" the male voice demanded.  "We've never had to take a hostage before! This wasn't supposed to happen!"

"We shoulda just left him there," mused a second man.

"We couldn't just leave him there, Randy, you fool!" replied a female voice.  "He can ID us!"

"The Syndicate ain't gonna like this," continued the first male.

"The Syndicate don't have to know, Johnny," said the second, whom Nicholas now knew was named Randy.

"Then what the hell are we supposed to do with him while we're gone?" asked Johnny.

"We could kill him," suggested the female, coldly.

"We don't have to kill him, Diana," countered a second female, her voice barely audible.

"Then what would you suggest, little sister?" Diana asked condescendingly.

The younger female shrugged.  "I don't know," she cowered.

"I have an idea," Johnny said resolutely, stopping in mid-step to point his finger in the younger female's face.  "Why don't you stay here and take care of him while we figure out what to do with him?"

"But keep your mouth shut, little sister," said Diana threateningly.

"Come on, gang.  Let's go.  We've got work to do," urged Johnny.  A pause, and then Nicholas felt an excruciating pain as someone kicked him hard in his injured ankle.  He cried out involuntarily as his vision grew foggy.

The last thing Nicholas sensed was Johnny's voice saying, "I told you to shut up!" and a cloth being pulled across his mouth.  Then the world faded to black once again.

*******

Monday morning

Nicholas spent the night drifting in and out of a stupor somewhere between sleep and unconsciousness.  When he finally awoke, he opened his eyes slowly, but all he saw was the dark material of the blindfold that was still tied tightly around his head.  At first, he felt as if his airway was constricted, and he started to panic.  Finally, he remembered that he had only been gagged; he could still breathe normally.

He was still on the hard floor, and his hands had been tied behind him.  His feet were not bound, but there was still that horrible stabbing pain in his left ankle.  Clearly, he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

The blindfold was too dark for him to distinguish light, but he could tell it was day by the slight warmth in his room.  Suddenly, Nicholas heard a door open quietly, followed by footsteps approaching him.  He cowered slightly and began to tremble involuntarily.  He remembered that the one called Johnny had been angry with him earlier, and the female called Diana had wanted to kill him. He wondered if that's what was about to be done right now.

Then, Nicholas heard the voice of the second female, who had noticed his slight movement.  "It's okay," she said gently, her voice childlike.  "I'm not gonna hurt you.  I just thought you might need something to drink."

Nicholas hadn't realized how parched he was until the moment she mentioned it.  Gingerly, he nodded his still-sore head.  Then he felt her slightly cold fingertips as they gently lowered the gag from his mouth.  He kept waiting for her to remove the blindfold, but she didn't.  Instead, he felt something cool and wet touch his lips.  She tilted the cup, and he drank eagerly. When she felt slight resistance, she withdrew the cup.

"Thank you," he said gratefully, his voice slightly hoarse.

"I'm sorry, but I have to put this back now," she said, before he could say anything further.  She slid the gag back into place.  "I'll be back to check on you later," she assured him.  Then he heard soft footsteps retreating, and the sound of the door gently snapping closed again.

Chapter 4

Tuesday afternoon

Once apprised of the situation, the four remaining team members agreed that Todd Spencer's help would be invaluable to them in this case, and Grant telephoned him.  Less than an hour later, he arrived at Jim's condo, armed with all of the information he had gathered from his investigation thus far.

"It's good to see each of you again, though I wish it were under different circumstances," said the young officer, his voice tense, as he exchanged firm handshakes all around.  "I'll certainly do anything I can to help you find your friend."

"We appreciate that, officer Spencer," replied Shannon softly.

"Todd, please," corrected the policeman with a wry smile.

"Todd," Grant echoed, returning his smile, "what do you know about this operation?"

"Well, not much, Grant, other than what Jim's already told you," he answered.  "The first car theft that fit the pattern occurred almost a month ago - a Jaguar, taken from a department store parking lot.  There have been five more thefts since then.   All luxury vehicles worth more than fifty thousand dollars, all taken from large shopping center parking lots.  All the thefts occurred about dusk.  It seems to be the same group of perpetrators for each, though it's hard to identify them by the surveillance footage because of the time of day.  And all of the cars were parked and unoccupied at the time of the theft; there were no witnesses at all until the last one."

"Nicholas," Max finished, his voice low.

The young officer nodded.  "For what it's worth, I don't think your friend was a target.  I think he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"He caught them in the act," Shannon inferred.  "He can identify them.  There was no way they could let him go."

"That could be good or bad," Grant mused.  "On one hand, if they have no experience with hostages, they might make a mistake which would help us find him."

"On the other, if they don't think to ask for ransom, I don't know of any reason they'd have for keeping him alive," finished Jim ruefully.

Max shuddered slightly at the implication of Jim's words. Suddenly, a surge of anxiety slammed into him, propelling him to rise up from his chair and walk away from his teammates.  Deeply worried about Nicholas, he wanted to bolt out of the briefing room immediately and go look for him.  But he realized regretfully that he didn't have any idea how to proceed on his own.  He needed their help.

Grant cast a wary glance at Max, then he spoke again.  "There are obviously patterns to how the cars are stolen, despite the fact that we don't know the motive or where they're being taken.  Is there anything significant about the locations themselves that they're being taken from?"

"Let's take a look," responded the officer.  "May I?"

"Be my guest," Grant smiled, as he got up from his chair.  Todd sat down at Grant's computer and pulled up a map of the city.  As Grant and the others looked on, he plotted each theft, in the order in which it occurred, on the map.  Then he used a computer program to draw a circle around the outermost areas.

"Looks like everything's been done within a ten mile radius, and they haven't hit the same place twice," observed Todd,  as he drew crisscrossing lines which intersected a midpoint on the map, "but there isn't anything notable about the center point - it just seems to be a vacant piece of land under development."

"Someone still needs to check it out," advised Max, casting a glance at his team leader, "just in case." Jim nodded wordlessly in agreement.

"Todd," Grant suddenly drew in a sharp breath, "look at this.  According to your data, there's been a car stolen every three days."

Todd looked at his information again, then looked back at Grant.  "You're right," he confirmed.  "That's something I hadn't realized until now."

"So Nicholas and his car were taken two nights ago," said Jim thoughtfully, "which means the next theft should take place tomorrow evening."

"How many more shopping centers are there within that circle Todd drew?" Shannon questioned.

Grant leaned over the officer's shoulder to type a command into the computer.  "Over a dozen," he responded ruefully.

"If we could get our hands on some luxury vehicles, maybe we could put some around the city as bait," she suggested.

"And equip them with tracking devices just in case," added Grant.

"That sounds like a good plan," agreed Todd.  "The Department's been busy with other things and doesn't really have extra manpower, but I'll help out as best I can."

"I just hate waiting," grunted Max, the first time he'd spoken in several minutes.  "I wish there was something we could do in the meantime."

Shannon and Grant each glanced at Jim, who walked over to Max and laid a fatherly hand on his shoulder.  "We all know how you feel, Max," he said sympathetically, "but there's nothing we can do except try to anticipate their next move."

"And pray that nothing terrible happens to Nicholas," Shannon added quietly.

Chapter 5

Monday afternoon

Nicholas heard the gentle click as the door opened once again.  He could tell from the sound of the footsteps that his visitor from earlier had returned.

"I brought you a little snack," she said softly.   "I figured you were hungry."

She removed the gag.  "We don't really have a lot to eat here," she apologized.  "Just some crackers and a candy bar.  But it's better than nothing, I guess."

Nicholas heard the crackling of paper as the female captor unwrapped the crackers.  Then there was hesitation as she contemplated the fact that the prisoner was blindfolded and his hands were tied behind his back.

"You know," Nicholas said carefully, "this would be a lot easier if I could see something."

He heard a faint sigh.  "I can't," she answered simply.

He felt a cracker being pushed gently against his mouth and took a bite.  He chewed a bit, listening closely.  Usually he could hear the subtle vibrations of the others' voices drifting from behind the door.  But all seemed quiet.

"Are the others here?" he asked cautiously.

There was a long pause before she answered him.  "Not right now," she finally responded.  "But they'll be back soon."

"Couldn't you take off the blindfold for a bit?" he pleaded.  "You can always put it back before they return."

The woman did not answer.  Wordlessly, she finished feeding him the meager rations and then gave him another drink of water.

"Thank you," he said sincerely, as she withdrew the cup from his lips.

She gently slid the gag back into place and remained silent, and the gentle click of the door told him that she was gone again.

*******

Monday evening

A couple of hours later, Nicholas heard the voices of Johnny, Randy, and Diana as they entered the building, having returned from wherever they had been.  As he listened closely, he found that he could distinguish the voices with relative ease, but could only make out a few words here and there.

"Here you go, Cindy," Johnny said to the younger female, as he tossed her a brown paper sack with a takeout lunch.  He opened the interior door with a squeak, looked in on Nicholas sitting quietly, then slammed the door again.

"Have you been taking good care of our boy while we've been gone?"

"I gave him a snack," Cindy shrugged, not meeting his eyes.  "I'm sure he's still hungry.  And cold."

"So what?" sneered Randy, in a voice loud enough for Nicholas to hear.  "It's not like we give a damn.  Have you ever figured out what we're going to do with him, bro?"

"Maybe we should just let him starve," suggested Diana, as she slipped up behind Johnny and caressed his shoulders seductively.  "That might be fun to watch."

Johnny chuckled softly.  "That might be, indeed," he smiled.  "For now, he's our bargaining chip, in case there's any trouble with the cops."

"We can't just let him go hungry," ventured Cindy tentatively.  "And we don't really have anything here that he can eat."

"Well, we sure as hell ain't buying McDonald's for him!" Randy sang out.

"She has a point, though," said Johnny thoughtfully.  "We'll pick up some crackers and stuff next time we're out.  And there's water in the kitchen.  That'll keep him alive till we decide what to do with him."

"Yeah," agreed Randy.  "Just make sure you ain't giving him the good stuff."

He reached into a paper bag and took out three cans of beer.  He tossed one to Johnny, and one to Diana, then opened one for himself.  "You want one, little sis?"

"No, thanks," answered Cindy.

"Prude," Diana scoffed, rolling her eyes, as Cindy wrapped up the rest of her hamburger and put it back in the bag.  "Whatsa matter?  Aren't you hungry?"

"I don't feel that good," the younger woman responded.

For nearly an hour, Nicholas could hear the three of them talking and laughing, and the occasional sound of someone popping a can tab.  Eventually, there was silence, just about the time that Nicholas noticed it was slightly cooler in the room.  Night had fallen, he deduced.  He was going to spend another night here - wherever here was.  Absently, he wondered if his team - his friends - were looking for him.  Or if they even knew he was missing.

Shortly thereafter, Nicholas again heard the young woman enter the room and felt her remove his gag.  He heard the sound of a paper bag being unrolled, and remembered what he'd overheard earlier.

"Was that your food?" he questioned softly.

"I didn't want it," she answered quietly.  "The hamburger is cold, and the fries are soft, but it's better than crackers.  I promise, I didn't bite it.  I only pinched off a bit of it."

As she started to feed him the first bite, Nicholas asked, "Are you sure you won't want it later?"

"I'm sure," she promised.

After a few bites, she eased a straw into his mouth, and he took a sip of some bottled water.  As he waited for the next bite, he smiled at the young woman.

"My name is Nicholas."

A pause.  "I'm Cindy," she finally reciprocated, "but you can't tell them I told you."

"It'll be our secret, Cindy.  Thank you for being so nice to me."

"It's nothing special," she replied dismissively.

"I think it is," he countered.  "Why do I get the feeling you don't really belong here?"

There was silence for a few moments as Cindy continued to feed the agent.  Then, as he took another drink, she spoke again.

"I'm not as good as you think I am," she said, her voice barely audible.  "Hurting people's just not my thing."

Before he could inquire further, he felt her slide the gag quickly back into his mouth.  He made a humming sound as he listened to the paper bag being picked up.

"I'm sorry; I have to go," she said, in a voice that sounded thick with tears.  Then the footsteps receded and the door clicked shut again.

Chapter 6

Tuesday morning

The next morning, Nicholas awoke to the realization that the throbbing pain in his probably-broken left ankle was getting exponentially worse.  He had already tried several times to adjust his position, but it was extremely difficult to do with his hands tied behind his back.

This time, when Cindy came to feed Nicholas his breakfast, he could hear voices coming from the room next door.  The others had not yet left for the day, so Nicholas did not risk trying to continue yesterday's conversation; the last thing he wanted to do was get Cindy into trouble.

So, after a whispered good morning, she fed Nicholas in silence.  But after only a few bites, he turned his head away slightly.

"Thank you," he told her, his voice slightly subdued, "but I don't want any more right now."

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly, noticing that small beads of sweat had begun to form on his brow, despite the fact that it was cool in the building.

"My ankle hurts pretty badly," he admitted.  "I think it might be broken."

"It's swelled up," Cindy said softly.  "I wish they'd just let you go, so you could get it looked at."

"Do you have any idea what they're planning to do with me?" Nicholas questioned, with a hint of trepidation.

Just then, the subtle voices drifted closer.  "Later," she whispered, then she jerked the gag back into place as Randy threw open the door and barged inside.

"We're outta here, sis," he barked.  He walked closer to Nicholas.  "How's our boy today?" he asked, and drew back his foot like he was going to kick the dark-haired agent.

"Don't hurt him!" Cindy said bravely.

Nicholas heard a loud slap, but felt no pain from it.  Then he heard some heavy footsteps, followed by Diana's voice.

"You keep your hands off my sister!" she exclaimed.

"Sorry," muttered Randy, and the footsteps receded. 

Sure that the others were leaving, and with a twinge of concern for his sympathetic captor, Nicholas waited for Cindy to continue her conversation with him, but instead he heard the door close.  The subtle voices continued, but Nicholas felt so badly that he could not stay awake to listen to what they were saying.

"Will you bring me something from the store?" Cindy asked Diana timidly.

"What?"

"Some ibuprofen," she answered.  Diana raised her eyebrows.  "Cramps," Cindy muttered by way of explanation.

Johnny burst out laughing, and Randy rolled his eyes, as the three of them left the building.  Cindy touched her temple gingerly.  It would be nice to talk to Nicholas, but she couldn't face him right now.

*******

A few hours later, when Cindy went to take Nicholas a snack, she found that he was either asleep or unconscious.  At any rate, she didn't try to wake him.  Instead, she waited until early evening, after her companions had returned from town and drunk themselves into a stupor.  Then, armed with a handful of supplies, she made her way to Nicholas' room.

The dark-haired agent awoke to Cindy's gentle touch removing his gag.

"Nicholas," she said softly, once she saw him stir slightly, "watch your eyes."

He felt her slip two fingers underneath his blindfold.  He winced slightly as the fabric tightened briefly around his still-sore head, then felt it loosen completely.

Nicholas blinked as his eyes adjusted to being uncovered for the first time in nearly forty-eight hours.  Even though the room was dimly lit, it took a moment for Nicholas to focus.  When he finally was able to do so, he smiled weakly at Cindy, who had yet to meet his eyes.

"Thank you," he whispered gratefully.

"I'll have to put it back before the others wake up," she advised him hastily.  "I wish I could untie your hands, but it would be too hard for me to tie them back."

"I understand," Nicholas assured her.

"How are you feeling?" she questioned softly.

"Still hurting," he admitted.

"You're burning up," Cindy told him, and she lightly dabbed his head with a cool, wet washcloth, giving Nicholas a chance to study her features.  She couldn't have been more than twenty, with stringy, unkempt blonde hair, and pale blue eyes.

"I have something you can take, if you want," she offered shyly.  "It's just ibuprofen.  But it might take the edge off the pain and the fever."

Nicholas smiled again.  "That would help a lot."

"I didn't spike it, I promise." And for the first time, Cindy's eyes met his, and she smiled back at him.

"I believe you," he replied, as he watched her unscrew the lid off the medicine bottle and shake out three tablets into her hand.  Then she readied the bottle of water.

"Open up," she commanded gently. When she placed the tablets into his mouth, he looked closely at her face again, and a dark shadow caught his eye.

"Cindy," he said softly, once he'd swallowed the painkillers, "what happened to your eye?"

"It's okay," she whispered, averting his gaze.

"Did Randy do that?" he asked gently.  She looked up sharply at him in surprise.  "I heard," he explained.  "I know you were just trying to protect me.  I'm sorry he hurt you."

"I'm fine, Nicholas.  Don't worry about it.  It wasn't your fault," she insisted quietly, blushing slightly at the underlying concern in his voice.

"I told you that you didn't belong here," he said kindly. 

"And I told you, there's a lot you don't know about me," she rebutted, her pale blue eyes sparkling slightly at his kindness.

"So tell me," he suggested, smiling broadly.

"Not tonight," she countered.  "The others might wake up soon."

"Then you'd better put the blindfold back on, just in case."

"You're probably right," Cindy acknowledged, and carefully she did so.  Then she quietly fed Nicholas until he stifled a yawn.

"We'll talk more tomorrow," she promised.  "They have a busy day; they'll be gone till late."

"Good night, Cindy," said Nicholas. "Thank you for everything.  And I look forward to tomorrow."

Cindy smiled, though he couldn't  see her, then replaced the gag and left him alone for the evening.

Chapter 7

Wednesday morning

It was late Tuesday evening when Todd Spencer bid his goodbyes and headed back to the precinct, promising to be back early the next morning to help the team prepare their strategy.  Nobody spoke it aloud, but each team member was reluctant to return home, in case Jim heard from Nicholas in the night.  Finally, it was such a late hour that nobody was going anywhere, and the three younger team members settled into the rooms that they knew from prior missions were waiting for them.

It was nearly three the next morning when the call of nature roused Shannon from a fitful sleep.  As she slipped on her robe and stepped out into the hallway, she found Max's bedroom door slightly ajar.  At the same time, she noticed a glow coming from the common room downstairs.  She eased the door open slightly and peeked in, not surprised to find the bed empty.  Once out of the restroom, she tiptoed downstairs.

Max was sitting at Jim's customary place, watching the video screen intently, playing and then rewinding and playing again.

"Max," Shannon whispered, a split second before she perched on the arm of his chair and lay a hand on his shoulder.  "What are you doing?  You should be in bed."

"Can't sleep," he mumbled, as he hit rewind once again.

Shannon squeezed his shoulder in empathy.  "We're all worried about Nicholas," she assured him, "but he's a good agent.  And he's clever.  He'll be all right.  You have to believe that."

"But he's hurt," Max told her quietly.

"What?"

"Look at this." Shannon followed Max's gaze to the large screen as Max pushed play.  The surveillance video from Nicholas' abduction started playing at the point that the agent was tripped and fell to the ground.  As they watched their friend get back to his feet, Max hit pause.

"Watch," he commanded softly.  "He's favoring that foot."

Max pushed play again, and Shannon could clearly see Nicholas limping as he fought with one of the captors.  She nodded wordlessly.  They hadn't paid that much attention before.

"Not to mention the blow to the head," Max added.  "What if they decided that he was too much of a liability?"  he asked worriedly.  "What if that's why we haven't heard anything yet?"

"Max, you've got to stop thinking like that," Shannon chided gently, squeezing his shoulder tighter. "Wherever Nicholas is, I'm sure he's alive, and he's trusting his team to find him."

Shannon waited until Max's eyes met her own.  "He needs the same from you, Max.  You've got to trust him to hang on, and in yourself and our team to do what we have to do to get him back.

"Come on," she coaxed, gently taking the remote control from his hand and hitting the off button.  "Try to get some rest.  You'll need your strength tomorrow."

"Thanks, Shannon," Max mumbled, as he allowed Shannon to pull him into a sideways hug, then clasp his hand and lead him back upstairs.

*******

Cindy waited until her three companions were gone, then she opened the door to Nicholas' room.   Surprisingly, she found herself looking forward to talking with her new friend, but her breezy "Good morning" died on her lips when she caught sight of the dark-haired agent.

"Nicholas!"

She rushed over to him, removing the gag and blindfold as hastily as she could while still being careful.  The agent's face was flushed red, and his skin hot to the touch.  His body was trembling slightly, and the wrinkles across his forehead told her that he was in a great deal of pain.

"Hurts," he grunted, as if saying the word took everything out of him.

"I know," she soothed.  "Let's try to get these painkillers down."

Patiently, she helped Nicholas take the ibuprofen.  "I'll be right back," she promised, and she disappeared for just a moment.  She returned with a damp washcloth and the thin blanket from her bed.

Gently, she covered him with the blanket, then she folded the washcloth in half and laid it upon his forehead.  She sat down beside him, water bottle in hand.

"You need to drink as much as you can," she cautioned.  "It'll help bring your fever down.'

For the next thirty minutes, they sat in silence, Nicholas occasionally taking a sip of water through the straw.  Finally, his trembling stopped as the drugs took effect, and he forced a smile at his companion.

"Thank you, Cindy," he said sincerely.

"Feeling better?"

"Some," he admitted.  "The medication has taken the edge off.  But I feel a little nauseous, so maybe I should stay away from food for a bit longer." He looked at her carefully, the weak smile still on his face.  "That doesn't mean you have to go."

"I'm not going anywhere," she shrugged, returning his smile.

"Good.  So why don't you tell me about yourself."

Nicholas could read her reluctance like a book.  "You first," she challenged.

Nicholas sighed.  "All right," he conceded.  "I was an actor for a long time.  Now, I'm a teacher."

Cindy raised her eyebrows.  "College?" she guessed.

"Prep school," Nicholas corrected.  "I teach acting, drama, sometimes a little English lit.  To teenagers, mostly."

"Do you like it?"

"Yes, very much," Nicholas admitted.  "I love the students.  I love hearing about their hopes, their dreams, their passions.  I love watching their faces when something makes sense for the first time."

"Hmm," mused Cindy.  "If I'd had a teacher like you, maybe I wouldn't have dropped out of school."  She gazed at him quickly, expecting condemnation; he was a teacher, after all.  But she didn't get it.

"So," Nicholas reminded her, "now it's your turn."

"There really isn't much to tell," she replied, averting his gaze.

"How did you end up here?" he persisted.  "I heard a couple of them call you 'little sister,' earlier."

Cindy sighed deeply, then she began to speak.

Chapter 8

"Diana's my older sister," Cindy began.  "She's twenty-four.  We grew up in Seattle.  Our grandmother raised us, but she died of cancer six years ago, when I was thirteen."  Her voice held a trace of tears.  "I took care of her."

"That explains your nursing skills," Nicholas said warmly, and Cindy smiled. 

"Sis took charge of me.  But shortly afterward, she hooked up with Johnny.  I knew that he was going to be trouble.  But she fell in love with him, and he and his best friend Randy started hanging around the house all the time.  It wasn't long before Diana was robbing banks and stealing cars, too.  I was their lookout, and, when I got old enough, their getaway driver.  Eventually, I dropped out of school to support what had become the family business."

Cindy turned her eyes back toward Nicholas once again, still searching his face for any evidence that he was passing judgment upon her - any reason at all to end the conversation.  But all she saw was empathy in his gaze, and the words came spilling out of her.  She hadn't been able to talk to anyone like this since her grandmother died.

"We got pretty good at stealing cars," Cindy continued.  "Randy would repaint them and then sell them, and we always had money.  The last time Johnny was in prison,  his cellmate told him about this group called The Syndicate - drug runners that use luxury vehicles for their crimes because they don't usually raise suspicion.  So now we work for them.  That's why we took your car."

"But taking cars from crowded shopping malls could leave lots of witnesses behind," said Nicholas.  "Isn't that risky?"

"That's why there are four of us," smiled Cindy.  "Diana and I are supposed to make sure we're not spotted - by the owner, or anybody else.  Not that we can do anything about the cameras, but that's why we work at night."

Suddenly, Cindy's smile faded.  "I guess I didn't do my job too well this time," she said softly, with a sadness in her voice.  "No one was supposed to get hurt."

"Cindy," Nicholas said gently, wishing his hands were untied so that he could better comfort his companion, "what happened to me isn't your fault.  All you've done since I've been here is try to help me."

"I wish I could get you out of here and off to a hospital," she said sincerely.  "I'm afraid that ankle's infected, and there's only so much that ibuprofen can do." She looked closely at her new dark-haired friend.  "I really don't want to see you get deathly ill, Nicholas."

"Surely they must know my ankle's injured," Nicholas said pensively, himself slightly worried, but taken aback by the concern in Cindy's voice.  "What if you told them I was getting sicker?"

Cindy humphed aloud and wrinkled her nose.  "They wouldn't care," she answered.  "I'm sure of it.  We're all in a lot of trouble already.  I'm not sure any of them would actually kill you outright, but they wouldn't think twice about letting you die."

Nicholas stifled a shudder, but his mind was racing.  "Do you think they'd agree to making a ransom demand?"

Cindy looked at him sharply in surprise, then her gaze softened as she came to a slow realization. "Of course, there'd be people who'd pay money to have you back," she answered quietly, after a pause, "and the cash would be nice.  But you've seen all of us now, Nicholas.  I don't know if you even have a chance of getting out of here alive."

As Nicholas watched, he thought he saw tiny tears appear in the corners of Cindy's eyes.  "I never meant for this to happen."

"I know, Cindy," he soothed.  "I'm not blaming you." He hesitated for a moment.  "But I do have a question."

Cindy looked at him wordlessly.  "I've seen the way they treat you," he said carefully.  "Are you really happy, living this kind of life?"

The blonde was quiet for several moments, and Nicholas was afraid he'd pushed her away completely.  But then she finally spoke.  "I love my sister," she responded, her voice barely audible, "but I know we're living on borrowed time.  We've done a lot of bad things, and we'll all have to face the consequences for those.  But most days, I wish they'd just catch us, before anything horrible happens, and maybe we could all start over.  I just hope it's not too late already."

Nicholas' heart came up in his throat, and he sighed heavily.  He knew what he had to do; he just hoped he didn't make her upset or angry in the process.

"Cindy," he began, "I want to be honest with you.  I am a drama teacher, but I also have...another job."

Cindy's eyes darkened.  "I knew it," she said tensely.  "You're a cop."

"Not a cop," Nicholas clarified. "More like an undercover detective.  My partners would pay the money for my safe return, but they would then work to shut down your operation and bring you all to justice - all the way up to the Syndicate."

Nicholas' voice grew quieter.  "I can tell them how you've helped me.  Maybe things would go easier-"

"Nicholas," Cindy interrupted, gently laying one finger on his lips, "you're a good guy, and I'm willing to risk getting caught if it means you'll be okay.  But I don't want any special treatment.  I take full responsibility for what I've done.  I'm willing to serve my time." She dropped her gaze to her hands, which were now in her lap.  "Maybe afterward, you could help me start over."

"I'd be glad to," Nicholas said warmly.  "My boss's name is Jim.  Jim Phelps.  His contact information is in my wallet."

"I'll talk to them later," she promised, "and I'll let you know what they say.  For now, you'd better get some food down you."

As if on cue, Nicholas' stomach growled loudly, and he chuckled.  "I think you're right."

By the time Nicholas ate a few bites of food, the medication had started to wear off.  His ankle was throbbing again, and his body was trembling slightly.  It had scarcely been three hours since the last dose, but Cindy gave him some more ibuprofen anyway.  Then she left him alone to rest.

Chapter 9

By Wednesday evening, the four teammates and their new associate had put their plan into action.  They had borrowed five luxury vehicles from the local impound yard, and Grant had equipped each one with a tracking device.  Then they had spent the afternoon dropping them off at various shopping centers in the city.

After checking out the vacant lot at the midpoint of Todd's map, and coming up empty, Max and Shannon positioned themselves at one end of the city.   Grant and Todd were at the other end.  Jim remained back at the condo, with the tracking device in hand, just in case Nicholas' captors decided to call and demand a ransom.

The five of them waited impatiently for twilight.  As the hour grew later and later, Max became antsy.  He keyed his communicator.

"Jim, anything?"

"Nothing yet, Max.  Grant?"

"No sign of trouble here."

A few more minutes passed, and eventually it was too dark to see anything at all.

"It's too late," came Max's tense voice again.  "They've either picked a different location or they've broken their pattern."

The agents remained at their posts for a few minutes longer, none of them willing to admit defeat.  Suddenly, Todd's handheld police radio went off.

"Be advised that a maroon-colored Rolls-Royce has been reported missing from the Bay Bridge Mall."

Todd jerked up the radio.  "How long ago?" he demanded, as Grant quickly keyed his communicator.

"Bay Bridge Mall, Max, you're closer."

"Advise approximate time of disappearance unknown.  Owner just discovered the car missing.  The manager is pulling the surveillance tapes now."

Todd swore to himself as Grant gunned the gas and set off in the direction of the Bay Bridge Mall.  Max did the same.  But once Grant relayed that they didn't yet know how long the car had been missing, Max realized that finding and trailing the Rolls was a long shot.  He and Shannon were still five minutes from the mall.

The two vehicles drove aimlessly around town for over an hour, covering a ten-mile radius of the area.  They could find no evidence of a Rolls-Royce, much less one matching the license number and description they were looking for.

Finally, Grant sighed heavily and keyed his communicator.

"Max," he said softly, "we might as well give it up, buddy.  We're not going to find them."

"Give me just five more minutes, Grant," Max pleaded.  "They've got to be around here somewhere."

"Max," said Shannon, laying a hand on the blond man's shoulder, "come on.  Let's go back and regroup." When he didn't respond, she tried again.  "We've done all we can."

"I can't give up, Shannon," Max murmured.

"You're not," she assured him quietly, "but there's nothing more we can do for him tonight.  Come on."

Finally, reluctantly, the blond agent pointed his car in the direction of Jim's condo.

"I'm just afraid he's running out of time," he said sadly.

And Shannon said nothing, because inside she was thinking the same thing.

*******

The sound of raucous celebration woke Nicholas from a pain-filled sleep.  It was nightfall, and Cindy's three companions were back from their daily task.

"How did it go?" Cindy asked, feigning an interest that was quickly dissipating.

"We got a Rolls this time, baby!" grinned Randy.  "The Syndicate will pay big bucks for it!"

"How's our boy?" asked Johnny.

"Not so good," Cindy admitted.  "He's been running a fever."

"We're going to have to get rid of him soon," vowed Diana.  "He's turning into more trouble than he's worth."

"Maybe not," Cindy disagreed, causing her three companions to look squarely at her.

"What do you mean?" asked Johnny pointedly.

"I've been thinking about that today," she answered.  "Maybe he's somebody important, somebody that someone would pay a lot of money to have back."

"What, like a ransom?" cried Randy, and Cindy nodded.

Johnny grinned widely.  "Hey, babe, looks like your little sister ain't so dumb after all," he sneered.  "'Course there's only one problem with that idea."

"He's seen us all," Diana deduced.

"Right."

"But so have the surveillance cameras," countered Cindy, "yet the cops still haven't caught us because they don't know where we are.  And he's been blindfolded the entire time.  There's no way he could ever find us."

"What does he know about our operation?" asked Randy quizzically.

"Nothing, unless he's overheard something," answered Cindy defensively.  "I haven't talked to him."

"The money would be nice, babe," mused Diana, as she slid her arms around Johnny's neck.

"It would," agreed their unofficial leader.  "Maybe I'll just go see if our boy has got some ID on him."

"I'll do it," Cindy offered quietly.

As the others watched, the young blonde entered the room where Nicholas was being held.  The dark-haired agent was awake and recognized her footsteps, but sensed that this encounter was different.

"Your wallet," she whispered.

Carefully, Cindy turned Nicholas' body to the right, taking extra precautions not to thump his ankle against the hard floor.   Though he knew she was trying hard to be careful, even the slightest motion caused throbbing pain and he sucked his breath in sharply.

"I'm sorry," she whispered again, as she grabbed hold of his wallet and eased it out of his jeans pocket.  Then she turned him back to his original position and exited the room, handing the wallet to Johnny as she closed the door behind her.

Johnny eagerly opened the wallet and pocketed the cash and credit cards that he found inside.  His eyes fell on the dark-haired agent's driver's license.

"Nicholas Black," he mused aloud.  "And here's another ID card.". He looked up at his three accomplices.  "Looks like our boy's a teacher at a private school.  No wonder he could afford a BMW."

He continued to riffle through the contents of the wallet and finally pulled out a yellow card.  "In case of emergency, contact James Phelps," he read, and rattled off a phone number.  "Well, Mister Phelps, I guess tomorrow you'll be getting a phone call.  If our boy is still holding on, that is."

"I'd better go give him one last drink of water for the night," said Cindy, suddenly feeling stifled by the implication that Johnny had left hanging in the air.  As she disappeared into Nicholas' room, and Diana went to the restroom, Johnny turned to his best friend.

"Did you notice how gentle she was with him?" he asked.

"Yeah," answered Randy.  "There's no way they haven't been chummy with each other while we've been gone."

"That's what I think, too," agreed Johnny.  "And I'm sure that he knows way too much about us.  There's no way we can just let him go."

"Why don't we just kill them both now?" urged Randy.

"Because I want the money," Johnny responded coldly.  "But we'll make sure that they're both dead before they have a chance to tell anyone anything they know.”

Chapter 10 

The next morning, the four agents and the young police officer reconvened back at Jim's condo, still upset from yesterday's failed operation and worried about their missing friend. 

"I hate this," muttered Grant, with a stifled curse.  "I hate being at their mercy, waiting for them to make the next move." 

"I do, too, Grant," echoed Jim, "but we don't have much choice, other than waiting till Saturday to try another sting." 

"Nicholas may not have till Saturday," mused Max quietly. 

Todd Spencer looked at Max, then at the rest of the team, and he sighed heavily.  "Look, I hate to be the one to say this," he began, "but we need to face facts.  It's Thursday.  This is the fourth day your friend has been missing.  Years in law enforcement have taught me that the chances of finding someone who's been abducted go down significantly after the first twenty-four hours.  And if the kidnappers were going to demand a ransom, statistically they'd have done so already." Todd cast a wary eye back at Max.  "The truth is, your friend may have already run out of time." 

Max's eyes flashed fire, and he stood to his feet.  "He's still out there," he growled. 

"But how do you know?" 

"I just know!" he yelled, in response to the officer's question.  Then he caught Jim's warning glare, and forced himself to rein it in.  "And I refuse to accept otherwise until somebody shows me a body," he continued, his voice quieter but still dangerously tense. 

Without another word he bolted out the front door and onto the deck. Shannon started after him, but Jim held up his hand. 

"Let him go, Shannon," he commanded.  "He'll be all right." 

Todd sighed heavily a second time.  "I don't know what else to do here, Grant," he admitted, "and I'm needed back at the station." 

"We understand, Todd," his friend responded, his voice quietly sad. 

"Call me if anything changes." 

As the officer started toward the door and braced himself for a confrontation with Max, who was still on the front deck, Jim's telephone rang. 

"Hold on, Todd," Jim said instantly, and the officer froze in mid-step as the elder agent answered on the second ring. "This is Phelps." 

"James Phelps?" 

"That's right.  Who is this?" 

"Let's just say I'm a friend of Nicholas Black." 

Jim locked eyes with the officer and made a gesture which confirmed that he was speaking with one of the kidnappers.  The officer hustled to his side as Shannon hastily opened the front door. 

"Max," she hissed.  "Telephone." 

Max followed her back inside, and the four of them waited, hardly daring to breathe, as Jim spoke with the kidnapper. 

It took everything within the elder agent to keep his composure. "Is he all right?" Jim questioned tensely. 

"He's alive," the voice replied, "but not for long if he doesn't get to a doctor." 

Jim winced internally at the words. "What do you want me to do?" 

"I want two hundred thousand dollars and a luxury vehicle," he replied, with practiced precision.  "Meet me at the top of Squire Mountain in two hours.  We'll trade vehicles." 

Jim cast a hasty glance at Todd, who nodded tersely. "I can do that," acknowledged Jim.  "But how do I know you have him, and that he's alive?" 

"You'll get your proof at the top of the mountain.  Two hours.  I'll be driving a station wagon.  Come alone, or he's dead." And the connection broke with a click. 

"Nice job, Jim," said Todd succinctly.  "But they didn't give us a lot of time to get things together." 

"What about the luxury vehicle?". Jim questioned, as Grant hurriedly gathered up some gadgets. 

"We've got a couple in impound," Todd replied.  "I'm sure we can let you borrow one if it means shutting these guys down." 

"Let's go," Max urged.  "We can plan our strategy in the car." 

Moments later, the four agents and the young officer set out on their journey.  Their first stop was the police impound lot, where Todd arranged for them to borrow a white Jaguar.  It didn't take long for Max and Jim to butt heads over who was going to drive the luxury car. 

"Let me drive it, Jim," begged Max earnestly. 

"But they're expecting me, Max," Jim disagreed.  "Besides, we need your driving skills to tail the kidnappers." 

"They don't know what you look like, Jim.  Besides, we've got the tracking devices," Max countered.  "Please.  I have to see for myself that Nicholas is all right." 

Jim sighed, knowing he had lost the argument.  "Very well," he conceded.  "Just make sure you do everything they ask," he added, albeit unnecessarily; he knew Max would never do anything to put Nicholas in further danger. 

Ninety minutes later, the five of them were on their way to the rendezvous point - Jim and Shannon in the Land Rover, Grant with Todd in an unmarked police cruiser, and Max in the Jaguar. Both the luxury car and the suitcase filled with money inside it had been equipped with some of Grant's tracking devices. 

"So tell us about Squire Mountain, Todd," said Jim to the officer, who was leading the way.  "I don't think any of us are familiar with it." 

"It's about ten miles ahead of us," answered Todd, speaking into Grant's communicator.  "It was once the main thoroughfare to the outskirts of the city, before Silicon Valley caused so much development.  Now we have interstates and byways, and the only people who really travel Squire Mountain anymore are the ones who live here." Todd frowned.  "Good thing they wanted to meet at the top." 

"Why is that?". Grant questioned from the passenger seat. 

"It's treacherous," he explained.  "Fifteen miles of nothing but curves straight down the mountain." 

"Max," Grant advised, "as soon as you swap vehicles, push the remote control to activate the tracking devices in the Jag.  Both the Land Rover and Todd's cruiser have monitors, so hopefully we can tail the Jag back to their hideout and nail all four of them." 

Chapter 11 

Fifteen minutes before the rendezvous time, Max was in position at the top of Squire Mountain.  Suddenly, his communicator beeped. 

"We've spotted them, Max.  Looks like two people in the front seat.  Beige station wagon headed your way." 

"Right." 

A few minutes later, the station wagon pulled in beside Max and came to a stop with its nose pointed down the mountain.  A sandy-haired man opened the driver's door, while a darker-haired man opened the passenger door.  The sandy-haired man held what looked to be a handgun, and he pointed it squarely into the left rear window. 

"You're early, Mister Phelps," he commented, as his dark-haired companion peered inside the Jaguar to make sure Max was alone.  "I admire your punctuality, plus you have good taste in automobiles.  I assume you have the money as well." 

"It's in the car," Max informed him, and he reached for the briefcase. 

"Stop right there," commanded the sandy-haired one, and Max froze in his tracks.  "My partner will check it." 

As he spoke, the dark-haired one circled to the passenger seat and inspected the briefcase while Sandy Hair kept his weapon trained on the left rear window of the station wagon. 

"Everything looks in order, Johnny," Dark Hair stated. 

"Good," smiled Johnny. 

"What about Nicholas?" asked Max cautiously. 

Johnny signaled for Max to approach him.  "Come closer to the car, Mister Phelps, and you'll see that Mister Black is conscious and able to hold himself upright.  He just can't talk to you at the moment.  But he can nod his head.  Isn't that right, Mister Black?" 

Max's heart came up in his throat at the sight of his friend.  While he was clearly sitting upright, his hands were tied behind his back and he was both gagged and blindfolded.  He nodded his head ever so slightly at Johnny's behest. 

"Now, here's what we're going to do.  We're going to switch vehicles.  You leave the keys in your switch, and I'll leave the keys in mine.  Then you're going to wait until we get a head start before you move the station wagon.  And I'm going to stand right here and make sure you do as you're told.  Is that clear?" 

"Yes, sir," Max said to Johnny. 

Slowly, he walked around the vehicle to the station wagon's  driver's seat.  Randy passed by him, headed for the Jaguar.  It took everything Max had not to punch the kidnapper's lights out, but he couldn't; Johnny's weapon was still trained on Nicholas. 

Max cast a glance at Nicholas out of the corner of his eye as he climbed into the driver's seat of the still-running beige station wagon.  He waited silently as he watched Randy climb into the Jaguar and back up, its rear bumper parallel with Max's, ready to pull out and head back across the city.  Max discreetly whipped out his communicator and flipped the button that armed the tracking devices. 

Suddenly, without warning, the Jaguar backed hard into the rear of the station wagon, sending it careening down the mountain.  Max stomped on the brake, but the pedal went all the way to the floor. 

Behind him, Johnny smirked in satisfaction.  "See you at the bottom," he quipped, as he climbed into the Jaguar and he and Randy drove away. 

Max cursed out loud and tried to pull the hand brake.  The vehicle slowed, but only slightly.  With communicator already in hand, Max pushed the button while trying to fight the wheel with both hands. 

"Going downhill with no brakes!" he yelled succinctly, to no one in particular. 

Both sets of occupants of the other two vehicles looked at each other fearfully.  Then, Todd Spencer's training took over, and he grabbed the communicator from Grant as he gunned the cruiser's engine, no longer worried about being spotted by the kidnappers. 

"Hand brake?" he asked quickly. 

"Useless," Max grunted, as the car began to pick up speed. 

"All right.  Listen.  The first couple of miles aren't bad.  The dropoffs are all on the left, so keep her as far right as you can.  Hug the cliff if you have to, but don't overdo it.  There's a road that comes in from the side about two miles down.  I'm going to try to cut in front of you.  Jim, Shannon, you guys try to tail the Jag." 

"All right," answered Jim worriedly. 

Max tossed the communicator to the side in order to fully concentrate on controlling the station wagon. "Hold on, buddy," he said to Nicholas.  "This could be a bumpy ride." 

Nicholas could say nothing, but his emotions were caught somewhere between relief at being freed from his captors, terror at their current situation, and confidence that Max could save them both. 

Max remained tight-lipped and continued to saw the wheel as the station wagon slowly picked up speed, alternating between butting up against the rocks and nearly slipping off the edge of the cliff.  A couple of times, his heart plummeted as he heard the loose gravel crunch beneath his tires. 

After what seemed like an eternity, he saw the unmarked grey cruiser nosing out from the right side of the road.  Catching sight of Max almost on top of him, Todd barked at Grant to hold on and floored it.  Within seconds he felt the station wagon's bumper smack him hard from behind. 

He had beaten Max by just a couple of feet. 

Both Todd and Max knew they weren't home free yet, and they were both silent as they began the task of slowing the bigger car down.  The path was still treacherous as the cruiser hit the brakes, then let up, then hit them again, then let up again.  Max kept the wagon's nose up firmly against his bumper. 

Finally, the station wagon slowed to a crawl, and Max found his voice again. "It's all right, buddy," he soothed from the front seat.  "We're safe now." 

Shortly afterward, Todd found a clearing on the right side of the road, wide enough to fit both vehicles in. "Pull off here," he ordered, and Max followed suit.  Then there was a huge sigh of relief as the station wagon came to a complete stop. 

Chapter 12 

Max was out of the station wagon almost before the wheels stopped turning. Nicholas heard the driver's door open and close again, then simultaneously heard and felt the left back door open. 

Max's touch was gentle as he removed first the blindfold, then the gag, from the dark-haired agent's face. 

"Nicholas, are you all right?" the blond asked softly, worry shining out from his bright blue eyes as they locked with Nicholas' own. 

Nicholas forced a sigh and smiled weakly at his teammate.  "You're one hell of a driver, my friend," he answered.  "Jostled me around a bit, but more or less I'm okay." 

"Max!" Grant called, as he and Todd Spencer climbed out of the cruiser. "You guys okay?" 

"Yeah," Max replied.  "I was just about to untie Nicholas." 

The blond agent once again peered inside the station wagon, then leaned Nicholas forward gently to work on his bonds. Nicholas winced slightly at the movement, and Max heard him suck in a small breath. 

"How's your foot?" he questioned. 

"I'm pretty sure my ankle is broken," he murmured, and Max felt a fresh surge of anger at the pain in his teammate's voice. 

Max leaned forward to gaze at Nicholas' left foot.  It was still covered with a sock and shoe, and Max didn't dare try to remove them, but the compound fracture was obvious from the swelling and the protruding bone. 

"I'd say you're right," Max growled, and Nicholas felt the ropes around his arms let go as Max's pocketknife broke through.  Nicholas closed his eyes and braced himself against the shooting pain that came with the returning circulation as he moved his arms gingerly in front of him and began rubbing his wrists. 

"You sure you're okay?" Max asked hastily. 

Nicholas opened his eyes again and smiled reassuringly.  "Yes," he responded.  "I was just tied up for a long time.  Thank you." 

Max squeezed his shoulder fondly as Nicholas looked out the side window at Grant and Officer Spencer, who by this time were standing beside the now-disabled station wagon. 

"Thanks for the rescue," Nicholas said gratefully. 

"That goes double for me, partner," echoed Max, as he gripped Todd Spencer's hand in a firm shake.  "You've got some skills." 

"You're not so bad yourself," smiled Todd modestly.  "If you ever want a job driving a patrol car, you let me know." 

Max grinned briefly, then his smile faded.  "We need to get him to the hospital," he said, nodding toward Nicholas.  "His ankle needs setting, and he feels like he's running a fever." 

"Let me give you a hand," offered Grant. 

Max crouched down beside Nicholas' door.  "All right, buddy, here we go," he said softly. 

Nicholas draped his left arm around Max's shoulders.  Max slung his right arm across the injured agent's back, and planted his left hand beneath Nicholas' left knee.  Careful not to bang his friend's broken ankle against anything, Max eased Nicholas out of the car, where Grant grabbed hold of his teammate from the right side.  Together, they helped Nicholas to an upright position and started toward the cruiser. 

Suddenly, the four men were startled by a series of hard thumps coming from the trunk of the station wagon.  They looked at each other quizzically, then Todd put a finger to his lips and pulled out his weapon. 

Grant lingered a moment to make sure that Max was steady with Nicholas, then he took Spencer's wordless cue and moved close to the driver's door.  At the officer's nod, Grant popped the trunk and Todd immediately aimed his weapon at the inside. 

"Police!  Freeze!" 

From his vantage point, all Nicholas could see was a shock of long, blonde hair. "Oh, my God, Cindy!" he exclaimed. 

"Who's Cindy?" Todd demanded, as he continued to stare, weapon drawn, at the young woman who was bound and gagged and crumpled inside the trunk.  "One of your kidnappers?" 

"Yes," admitted Nicholas, "but it isn't what you think.  Please, get her out of there." 

"Okay," agreed the officer, "but you guys get in the car." 

Max and Grant helped their teammate to the backseat of the grey cruiser and climbed in on either side of him, while Todd helped Cindy climb out of the trunk and removed her gag. 

"Thank you, Officer," she said sincerely.  "Is Nicholas all right?" 

"He will be," Todd said slowly, surprised at the kidnapper's concerned inquiry.  "What were you doing in the trunk of the station wagon?" 

"I'm not exactly sure," she confessed, "but I think the others turned on me." 

"You know I have to take you downtown." 

"Yes, sir," she replied. 

"And you know I have to keep your hands tied." 

"That's okay, sir." 

Convinced she was not a threat, Todd put away his weapon, grasped one of Cindy's wrists, and led her to the passenger seat of the cruiser.  As soon as she was seated, Cindy half-turned in her seat to gaze at Nicholas. 

"How are you feeling?" she asked softly. 

"Better now," he answered, gingerly leaning forward to place a hand on her shoulder.  "Are you all right?" 

"I'll be okay," she answered, forcing a smile, though Nicholas heard the sadness in her voice at realizing she'd been set up by the others. 

"I'd better check in with Jim," Grant said abruptly.  He keyed his communicator and updated his team leader on what had occurred at Squire Mountain.  Then, with a quick glance toward Cindy, Grant asked, "Did you have any luck?" 

"Some," Jim answered.  "We followed them for a dozen or so miles, and then they made a hard right turn and just disappeared.  We could still see the tracking device blinking on the screen, but there was no sign of the car." 

"Roger that.  We're headed to the hospital with Nicholas," Grant reported, then switched off the communicator. 

"I know where they're hiding," Cindy said quietly.  "If you'll let me, I'll help you catch them." 

Chapter 13 

Todd Spencer pulled up in front of the hospital to let Nicholas off.  Just before exiting the car, the dark-haired agent reached up and squeezed Cindy's shoulder in empathy. "I'll see you soon," he promised her, then he allowed Max to help him out of the car and into a waiting wheelchair. 

"I'll ride back to the station with Todd," said Grant.  "Jim and Shannon should be here in a little bit." 

"We'll be back later," promised the officer, "and I'll get your statement." 

Max wheeled Nicholas inside, and after a few moments Nicholas was taken to a room.  Max sat with him while he waited for the doctor. 

"So," Max began, "I know you'll tell us more when everybody gets here, but what's the story with Cindy?" 

"She took care of me," Nicholas answered quietly, "the only one of the four who did.  She gave me food, water, medicine when my fever spiked..." Nicholas stifled a shudder.  "I don't think I would have made it without her." 

Max allowed his trademark smile to curl his lips.  "Then I guess we owe her a lot," he mused. 

Nicholas grinned at his friend.  "I owe all of you a lot," he corrected. 

Then their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Jim and Shannon, who greeted both their teammates warmly. 

"I'm glad you're going to be okay, Nicholas," said Jim sincerely.  Then he turned to Max and grasped his hand.  "And I'm glad you were the one driving the station wagon, Max.  I don't think I could have done it." 

Shortly thereafter, the doctor came in and whisked Nicholas away.  Several x-rays and a couple of consultations later, Nicholas was resting and taking intravenous antibiotics by the time Grant and Todd returned to the hospital. 

"How are you doing, partner?" Grant asked softly. 

"It could have been much worse," admitted Nicholas.  "I have to have surgery on my ankle, but right now I have a pretty bad infection so I have to take these antibiotics for twenty-four hours before they can do it.  And I'm probably going to need some physical therapy.  But at least I'm here." 

"Thank God for that," mumbled Max, prompting a slight smile from his injured teammate. 

"Sorry it took us a while," Todd apologized.  "Cindy waived her right to an attorney and went ahead and gave us a partial statement." 

"Do you think she'll be granted bail?" Nicholas asked. 

Todd frowned.  "Her arraignment's tomorrow," he answered, "but she's facing some pretty serious charges.  The judge may or may not grant bail, even though she's willing to cooperate with us." 

"Well, if he does," said Nicholas adamantly, "I want to take care of it." 

"Nicholas," Todd countered gently, "I know you feel you have a connection with this girl, but I don't think you understand.  She's got a long criminal history, and she's in a lot of trouble right now." 

"It's not just a connection, Todd," Nicholas responded defensively.  "She helped me.  She's the reason I survived long enough for you guys to rescue me." He paused to take a deep breath, then continued.  "She knows she has to be held accountable for what she's done, and she doesn't want any special favors.  But she never really had a chance to make the right choices." He looked up at the young officer earnestly.  "I just think she deserves one." 

Todd sighed.  "I will certainly pass that along," he promised, "but, like I said, I'm not sure how much good it'll do." 

"Thank you," Nicholas smiled gratefully.  "That's all I ask." 

Todd was just about to ask Nicholas to give a statement about what had happened to him from Sunday night until his rescue when he noticed the dark-haired agent's eyelids beginning to droop.  He nudged Grant and nodded slightly toward the bed. 

"We'd better go now and let you get some rest," advised Todd as he got to his feet.  "We can get that statement later on." 

Nicholas forced his eyes to open.  "I'm sorry," he said sincerely.  "They gave me something for pain earlier, and it must be making me sleepy." 

"No worries, man," smiled Grant.  "You probably haven't rested much for the last week.  We'll be back in a little while." 

"I'll stay here, in case he needs anything," said Max. 

Jim opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, choosing instead to pat Max lightly on the shoulder.  Then Shannon kissed Nicholas' cheek softly and the four teammates left the room. 

"You don't have to stay, Max," Nicholas said gently.  "I'll be okay.  And I'll probably sleep all afternoon so I'm not going to be very good company anyway." 

"Doesn't bother me," Max shrugged, flashing a sideways grin in an attempt to minimize his concern, as he reached for a nearby magazine. 

"Suit yourself." The dark-haired agent returned Max's grin, then he allowed his eyes to close and within moments he was asleep. 

Chapter 14 

"Where's Cindy?" Diana demanded the moment Johnny and Randy walked in.  "I can't find her anywhere.  I didn't think she was with you." 

"Sweetheart," Johnny answered softly, feigning sadness as he slid his arm around his lover, "I have something horrible to tell you.  Cindy stowed away in the back of the car and tried to free our hostage.  The cops showed up and she and the hostage were both killed in the crossfire.  I'm so sorry." 

Diana's eyes misted over for a moment, then she smiled nervously and placed her hand on Johnny's chest.  "Stupid girl," she said with a forced sigh that came out sounding more like a laugh.  "Always the softie." 

"And always in the way," added Randy.  "We did just fine, the three of us, while she was here schmoozing with the hostage." 

"At least we got away with the Jag, baby," grinned Johnny.  "Now get ready and we'll go paint us a car." 

Diana rose up on her tiptoes to kiss  Johnny's cheek, then rushed off to change clothes. 

"You're not going to tell her about the cash?" Randy inquired, narrowing his eyes at his partner. 

"Nope," he answered with a wink, thumping the dark-haired man on the chest.  "That way we don't have to share with her." 

******* 

By the next morning,  Nicholas was feeling much better, and Todd Spencer came to the hospital early to collect his statement.  Afterward, he returned to the precinct to meet with Cindy, and he asked Grant to come along. 

"How's Nicholas doing?" was the first thing Cindy asked when the jailer led her to the interrogation room to meet with Todd and Grant. 

The two men exchanged glances, and then Grant answered. "He seems better this morning," the Black agent replied.  "They're setting his ankle this afternoon." 

"We appreciate your concern, Miss Davis," Todd said sternly, "but it doesn't change the fact that you're facing multiple charges." 

"Oh, I know," she acknowledged.  "I didn't expect it to.  As I told you yesterday, Officer, I know what I've done and I know that I have time to serve.  I don't expect any special treatment."   

Cindy sighed heavily and looked down at her cuffed hands.  "It was easier when nobody got hurt.  But Nicholas could have died, and I'm not sure the others would have cared.  Even my sister." She looked up, and her pale blue eyes met the blue-grey eyes of the young officer.  "It's time to stop, before somebody else gets hurt or worse." 

"There's a lot that we already know about the car thefts," Todd informed her.   "We know the next one will take place tomorrow, around twilight, at a shopping mall somewhere in the city, and it will be some sort of luxury vehicle.  How do they determine which mall, and which vehicle?" 

Cindy smiled.  "Johnny goes and gets the paper on the morning of the theft," she explained.  "The San Francisco Chronicle.  There's a section in there called Food and Home, that profiles different shops and restaurants around the city.  And he just opens it up and started reading.  The first mall that's mentioned within ten miles of us, if we haven't hit it already, is the one we pick. 

"As far as the vehicle," she continued, "that's pretty random.  We get there about an hour before twilight.  Usually Diana's with Johnny, and I'm with Randy, and we stake out opposite sides of the parking lot.  When we see a car pull in that we want, Diana and I will follow the driver in and try to make sure they don't come back outside, or there's no security guards watching, while Johnny and Randy do their thing." 

"How do they actually steal the cars?" 

"Johnny has a Slim Jim that he can use to get inside most vehicles, and Randy knows how to hotwire."  Cindy's expression sobered.  "We never intended to involve the owners.  Nicholas was taken because Diana assumed he was buying groceries and would be inside the store for awhile.  So she didn't watch him close enough, and then he came out and caught us." 

"I see," Todd responded.  "So what happens to the cars after you take them?" 

"Johnny has a body shop," Cindy answered, "but it has a hidden entrance.  That's probably where they went yesterday, and why your team couldn't find them.  The first day, they strip the existing paint, then the next day they put a different color on and change the license plates.  On the third day, they take the newly painted car to the Syndicate that morning, then go steal the next one that evening and the cycle repeats again." 

Grant saw the look that crossed Todd's face when Cindy mentioned the Syndicate.  "What's the Syndicate?" he inquired. 

"A group of drug runners we've been trying to catch for months," he replied grimly.  "We couldn't figure out how they managed to elude us.  The luxury cars were the missing piece of the puzzle." 

The young officer looked back at Cindy.  "So tomorrow they will be delivering a car to the Syndicate and stealing a new one?" he asked, for clarification. 

"That's right," she confirmed, and Todd grinned. 

"Then we can shut down both operations. Will you help us?" 

"Of course I will.  I promised, didn't I?" 

"But, Todd," Grant said pensively, "we already have enough evidence against the carjackers.  If Cindy can show us their hideout, we don't have to wait till they steal another car." 

"I know," answered Todd.  "The Syndicate is the DEA's jurisdiction, but the car theft case belongs to me.   I want to make sure it's airtight, and the only way to do that is to catch them in the act." 

Chapter 15 

Nicholas' ankle surgery on Friday afternoon was a success, though hospital staff thought it best that he take another round of antibiotics and stay another night for observation.  So on Friday evening, Max wheeled his friend into a meeting room in the hospital cafeteria, where the teammates and officer Spencer gathered to discuss the plan for the following day. 

"So, according to Cindy, the first order of business of the day will be taking the Rolls they took this past Wednesday to the Syndicate," Todd began.  "We've made arrangements for Cindy to ride along, to help us pinpoint everyone's location, and I'd like for Grant to bring his tracking expertise."  Todd cast a glance at his friend, who nodded succinctly. "But, otherwise," he continued, "I don't want any of you heavily involved." 

"But, Todd," Nicholas protested, "I need to be part of this.  I realize I won't be able to help out," he said grimly, pointing at the plaster encasing his left foot, "but I want to be there to see this through.  Besides, they're releasing me tomorrow." 

Todd sighed heavily.  "I know how much this means to you, Nicholas  - to all of you - and I want you there tomorrow evening when we set up the car theft.  But the Syndicate is the DEA's jurisdiction, and I can't risk having all of you there.  These people are dangerous, and it could get really ugly." 

"We will respect your wishes, Todd," Jim assured him, shooting a glance at his injured agent.  "Just tell us what you want us to do." 

******* 

The next morning, Todd, Grant, Cindy, and a second uniformed officer got into Todd's grey unmarked cruiser and set off toward the place where Jim and Shannon had lost the Jaguar's trail on Thursday.  By now, the tracking beacon was no longer functional, but Cindy was able to direct them to the vacant lot where they'd lost the signal. Her hands were cuffed in front of her, so she lifted both hands to point toward a dilapidated old building to the right of the field. 

"That used to be a parking garage," she told the men.  "There's an entrance in the back that leads to an underground level.  That's where the body shop is.  It leads right underneath this vacant lot." 

The cruiser waited for another twenty minutes.  Suddenly, Grant's sharp eye caught sight of a teal blue Rolls Royce pulling out from behind the building, followed closely by a black Jaguar. 

"Todd," he hissed, nudging his friend and nodding toward the luxury cars. 

As the cruiser fell in smoothly behind the Jaguar, Cindy spoke again.  "It looks like Randy in the Jag.  I'm sure he's following Johnny to Syndicate headquarters to drop off the Rolls, and plans to take him back to the shop when they've made their delivery." 

"So your sister isn't with them," Todd inferred. 

"No," responded Cindy.  "We girls were never invited to Syndicate business.  I don't even know where they are going.  I just know that it usually took them a couple of hours to get there and back." 

"Well, it looks like we're about to find out," responded Todd, as he radioed his colleagues with the DEA to let them know in what direction they were headed. 

The four of them rode in near-silence for the next forty-five minutes as they followed behind the Jaguar.  It was tenuous at times, and they almost lost sight of them on a number of occasions.  But finally, the two cars parked in front of what looked like a large garage.  The Rolls beeped its horn, and the garage door opened and let both vehicles in. 

Todd radioed another update, and the Feds moved into position.  Then Grant looked quizzically at his officer friend. 

"Tell me again why we're waiting for them to leave before moving in?" 

Todd sighed, but his voice was patient.  "Two reasons.  First, the Syndicate is responsible for the widespread distribution of drugs in the Bay area, and we've been after them for months.  Now that we're finally in a position to shut them down at the source, we can't let anything or anyone compromise our case, including these two. 

"Secondly, we have nothing to tie them to the drug running, so if we arrest them here it will give a good defense attorney reason to appeal a conviction.  If we can catch them in the act, combined with Cindy's testimony and Nicholas' positive ID, our case on the carjackings and abduction will be virtually airtight." 

Shortly after Todd finished speaking, the black Jaguar emerged from the garage door and sped off in the direction from which they had come.

 "Let's move!" Todd barked into his radio.  He turned to Grant.  "Stay here.  I'll be back." 

"Be careful," Grant called after him. As he, Cindy, and the other officer watched, several cars quickly surrounded the garage, and dozens of armed agents busted their way inside.  The trio could hear the sounds of shouting and shots being fired.  After several tense moments, the young officer jogged to his vehicle as DEA agents led two men to a vehicle in handcuffs. 

"Everything okay?" Grant asked quickly. 

"Yeah," Todd answered, breathing heavily.  "Three perps.  Shootout with the Feds.  Two in custody, one died at the scene." 

"What about the good guys?" "One agent got a bullet graze in the arm, but he's going to be okay.  Everybody else is fine."  Todd smiled at Grant.  "The VIN on the Rolls matched the one that was taken on Wednesday.  We also found your friend's BMW, now painted white and loaded down with heroin, ready for distribution." 

"He'll be thrilled about that," Grant quipped, unable to stifle a grin. 

Todd grinned back as he started the engine and Grant keyed his communicator to update the rest of his team. "All right, Jim.  I'm going to hang out with Todd down at the precinct for a while.  We'll see you soon." 

Chapter 16 

A couple of hours before twilight, the team mobilized to put their plan into action.  Todd and Officer Smith loaded Cindy into the patrol car, then went to pick up Nicholas at the hospital.  The reunion was bittersweet. 

"Cindy," Nicholas smiled from the front seat, reaching back to grasp both of Cindy's cuffed hands with his own.  "How are you doing?" 

"I'm good," Cindy smiled back.  "They're taking good care of me.  Are you feeling all right?" 

"I'm doing much better," Nicholas assured her, "but this cast is going to take some getting used to." He turned to Todd.  "So where are we headed?" 

"We checked the paper this morning, Cindy, at your instructions, and we feel strongly that they're going to hit Four Oaks tonight," he answered.   

As the unmarked police car drove slowly toward the Four Oaks Mall, a second unmarked cruiser silently fell in behind them, where Grant was riding along with two other uniformed officers.  A few miles from the mall, a new navy blue Alfa Romeo pulled out of a side road in front of Todd's car. 

"How's it going, Max?" Todd said into the communicator, prompting a broad smile from Nicholas. 

"Man, this thing rides like a dream," Max grinned.  "Can I keep it when the mission's over?" 

Todd chuckled softly.  "You got him, Grant?" 

"The tracker's coming through loud and clear," replied Grant, from the camera behind him. 

"Good," said Todd in satisfaction.  "It's nearly time for our friends to show up.  Jim, Shannon, are you in position?" 

"I'm here at the east entrance,"  responded Jim. 

"And I'm on the west side," added Shannon. 

"Remember, they'll probably be driving that black Jaguar." 

Just a few minutes later, Shannon spotted something and quickly keyed her communicator.  "Guys, there's a black Jaguar headed in from the west side.  Two men, one woman.  I'm falling in behind them now." 

"Don't let them see you," cautioned Todd.  "We're about ten minutes out." 

Shortly thereafter, Max came through the east side and drove the Alfa onto the parking lot.  The two police cruisers hung back a few moments. 

"Max, they're in row twenty-three, near the far end," Shannon announced. 

"Copy that.  I'm parking in twenty-two, halfway down," Max replied. 

The police cruisers parted ways; Todd's car pulled across from Max's, so Nicholas and Cindy could have a clear view of the thieves.  The other car parked at row twenty-one, on the other side of the Jaguar. 

Max unceremoniously got out of the Alfa and started walking toward the men's clothing store directly in front of him.  Almost immediately, a female climbed out of the backseat of the black Jaguar and followed him inside. 

Cindy sucked in a sharp breath.  "That's my sister, Diana," she confirmed. 

The young officer nodded.  "One of your kidnappers, Nicholas?" 

"Yes," the dark-haired agent replied. 

"All right.  Stay down, both of you.  They probably still think you both died on Squire Mountain." Todd keyed the communicator.  "Max, you've got company, right behind you," he advised.  "Keep her busy." 

"Yeah, will do," Max answered, as he pretended to look at some high-end suit jackets. A couple of minutes later, two men got out of the Jaguar.  The dark-haired one stood watch, while the sandy-haired one worked on opening the door. 

"The lookout is Randy McGee," said Cindy, her voice taut. 

"He's definitely one of them," affirmed Nicholas.  He shot a sympathetic look at Cindy.  "And he's responsible for that bruise on Cindy's eye." 

Officer Smith was writing notes, while in the other car Grant was snapping photographs.  Once the car door opened, the two men switched places. 

"That's Johnny Garvin," said Cindy.  "The ringleader, and my sister's boyfriend." 

"And the one who broke my ankle," Nicholas growled. 

"That's all I need to know," grunted Todd in satisfaction, and he keyed the communicator again as he heard the Alfa's engine turn.  "We got 'em, Max," he said.  "Come on out." 

Max picked up an inconsequential item and went to the front counter to pay for it.  Diana glanced at her watch and then darted out the front door. 

As soon as Randy and Johnny saw Diana approaching the Jaguar, they sped out of the parking lot in the Alfa and exited out the west side entrance. Todd quickly grabbed his communicator. 

"Alfa's on the move!" he barked.  "Go ahead and take the girl into custody.  We're giving chase." 

"Ten-four, Spencer.  We've got her," came the voice of his fellow officer. 

The two uniformed officers burst out of the car as Max jogged toward the black Jaguar.  "Police!  Hold it right there, ma'am!  Hands on your head!" 

As the situation was secured, Grant exited the cruiser, tracking equipment in hand, and in one fluid motion scooped up the Jaguar keys, which had fallen on the ground, and tossed them to Max.  Then he joined his teammate inside the Jaguar and they sped off after Todd. 

******* 

"Aren't we going to wait for her?" Randy questioned. 

Johnny shook his head.  "She'll be along.  Besides, I've got a funny feeling." 

"What kind of feeling?" 

"Like the cops are onto us."  Johnny looked sideways at his partner.  "We should have killed off that BMW driver in the parking lot.  I've had a bad feeling ever since then." 

"But he's dead.  And so is Diana's little brat sister." 

"Maybe," said Johnny, but his voice betrayed his doubt.  "Or maybe they survived and told the cops about us.  But even if they did, Diana should slow them down just enough.  It's time for us to move, buddy.  By the time they get here, they won't find us." 

"But what about Diana?" Randy wanted to know. 

"What about her?" 

"You guys have been together for years," Randy elaborated.  "And you're just going to leave her?" 

Johnny flashed an evil sideways grin at Randy.  "One less person to split the booty with," he explained. 

Randy swallowed hard, absently wondering how long it would take Johnny to decide that he, too, was expendable. 

The two men rode the rest of the trip in silence.  When they came to the place where they should have turned to go to their body shop, they just kept going. 

Chapter 17 

"Be advised, female suspect in custody," came the officer's voice across the police radio. 

"Ten-four.  We are still in pursuit of the Alfa.  Should be getting close to their hideout." 

As the cruiser approached the turn and found the garage door, Cindy helped him navigate through the underground level to the body shop.  But there was no sign of the Alfa. 

"Where the hell did they go?" barked Todd into his communicator. 

Grant had been watching the tracking device intently as Max sawed the wheel and zipped in and out of traffic.  The light was still blinking. 

"They're still on the move, Todd!" he said quickly.  "Max and I are still tracking them." 

"Thank goodness you decided to follow us," muttered Todd.  He glanced at Nicholas in the passenger seat as he turned around and started toward the exit. "We'll search this place later," he advised.  "Right now we have some kidnappers to catch."

He keyed the communicator again.  "Grant, what's your twenty?" 

Grant kept Todd apprised of the Alfa's location, and Todd requested backup.  Just as the police cruiser caught up with them, the car thieves figured out they were being followed and drove the luxury car into an opening on the side of an abandoned warehouse. 

Max and Grant were out of the Jaguar in the blink of an eye, as both car thieves left the Alfa and broke into a run.  Max scampered after Johnny, while Grant went after Randy. 

"This is for Nicholas," he grunted, as he dealt the sandy-haired criminal an uppercut that knocked him cold.  Grant did the same with Randy, and before long Todd and Officer Smith were shoving them against the wall, putting on their handcuffs and reading them their rights. 

The criminals were loaded into the second cruiser and taken to be booked for their crimes, and Todd thanked Max and Grant for their assistance with hearty handshakes.  Then the two agents followed Todd's cruiser back to the former hideout.  

Cindy directed Todd to Johnny's body shop, then showed him to the common area where the four of them​ had spent their downtime.  She pointed toward a closed door. "This is where they kept Nicholas," she said quietly. 

"I need him to identify the area, and we need to take pictures," Todd advised.   

Max helped Nicholas out of the vehicle, and carefully he made his way to the room where he'd spent the better part of four days.  As Todd opened the door, Nicholas drew in a sharp breath as the unpleasant memories flooded back to him.  Max placed a steadying hand on his shoulder in empathy. "This is it," he said simply, and without another word he moved slowly back to the cruiser. 

The officers lingered for another several minutes.  As Todd returned to the police car, he smiled at Nicholas. "There's enough evidence here to put all of them away for a very long time," he assured the dark-haired agent.  "It's finally over." 

******* 

Nicholas rode with Cindy back to the precinct, followed by Max and Grant in the Jaguar.  Jim and Shannon were waiting in the Land Rover to pick everyone up. 

As everyone got out of the cruiser, Nicholas took both of Cindy's cuffed hands in his own. "Cindy," he whispered, "thank you.  You saved my life." 

"And you changed mine, Nicholas," she responded, her eyes misty. 

Nicholas smiled at her, and then turned to Todd.  "So what happens now?" 

Todd sighed heavily.  "Well, all the charges facing Cindy from the past several years could potentially be worth a decade or more in prison," he admitted, "and Cindy's told me more than once that she's willing to serve it all."   Todd smiled slightly at his prisoner.  "But there are a lot of people grateful for the information you have.  The federal attorneys, our department..." 

"Our team," smiled Max, with an glance at Nicholas. 

"I'm going to do all I can to get that sentence reduced," promised Todd, "so you can work on getting your life back." 

"I'd like that," said Cindy softly.  She turned to Nicholas, her pale blue eyes sparkling.  "You'll come visit me?" 

"I promise," Nicholas assured her. 

Cindy planted a quick kiss on Nicholas' cheek.  "I'll see you soon."

And with that, Todd Spencer bid everyone good night and escorted his prisoner inside the precinct, leaving Nicholas staring after her. 

"Come on, partner," urged Max, thumping the dark-haired agent fondly on the shoulder.  "Let's go home." 

"With pleasure," grinned Nicholas, as Max helped him into the Land Rover and the five team members headed for home. 

The End.

(c) 2018

 

*****

Author's Note:  There is a sequel to this story, called Aftermath.  However, it is a slash story.  If you are interested, you may find it here.

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