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The
Longest Day 1 Episode 11 written by Janey |
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Disclaimer: The characters in the following fan
fiction do not belong to me. They belong to CBS and Viacom and other powers
that be. I am only using them for the purpose of writing this story. No money
is being made from this writing it is for entertainment purposes only. And
now on with the show... Warning:
This story contains scenes of violence that some readers may find disturbing. Detective
Steve Sloan reached over a switched off the alarm clock that had been ringing
for the past ten seconds and checked the time. He groaned and threw back the
covers, and got up. He pulled on his sweat pants and t-shirt then put on his sunglasses
and wristwatch. He drank two litres of water and began his warm up routine.
He stepped out into the early morning sunshine for his regular forty minute
run along the beach. Steve
returned to his apartment and showered and dressed. He was on the early shift
and his Dad was on the late shift this week. So he didn't go upstairs for his
usual breakfast , he decided to get an early start on the paperwork and grab a
coffee and doughnut at work. He picked up his handcuffs and gun, checked the rounds
and then attached them to his belt. He pulled on his jacket and grabbed his
keys from the hall stand on his way through the door. It was going to be a lovely
sunny L.A day. Steve
was half way through his pile of paperwork and filing when Captain Newman approached
his desk. "Sloan,
I want you to do the nine to six shift on the stakeout at Fulton Mount. I know
it's not strictly speaking Homicide's job, but they're short handed in Robbery.
The target is Michelson, the fence." Steve
nodded, anything was better than doing the paperwork. Steve
closed the folder he was working on grabbed his jacket and a copy of Michelson's
photo, and then headed to the parking lot to drive to the stakeout. Detective
Sloan sat in his car opposite Michelson's apartment block. He was watching
the apartment on the second floor for signs of life. It was a routine, run of
the mill stakeout and he was taking his turn on the roster. No one had shown
up during the last two days of the stakeout and Steve was resigned to the fact
that no one was going to show up today. He yawned and reached for the paper;
it was going to be a long shift. A
movement caught his eye and he glanced up to see two men going into the
nearby bank.
He radioed in. Nothing was happening as far as his stakeout was concerned, there
was no sign of the man they sought, or his girlfriend; but a nagging thought
lingered at the back of his mind. Shortly
after he radioed in, the two men came out carrying a large holdall and walking
with a woman who seemed very nervous. Steve watched as they got into a car
that was parked in the alley beside the Bank. Just then his radio crackled - dispatch
reported there'd been a hold up at the Bank, two armed men had taken a hostage
and just exited the Bank. Steve
radioed to headquarters and gave them a description of the two robbers and the
hostage. The first man had dark, collar length curly hair and he was wearing a grey
suit, sunglasses and was carrying a large dark green holdall. The second man
with the hostage had shoulder length blonde hair and was wearing a black suit
and sunglasses. The hostage had shoulder length brown hair and was wearing a
floral print skirt and t-shirt. Steve told dispatch that as he was in an unmarked
police car and in plain clothes, he would follow them. Dispatch told him to
be cautious, the men were armed and to hold off any heroics until backup arrived.
Steve grunted - heroics? Him? Unthinkable. He eased the car into traffic
and followed at a distance, just managing to keep the robbers in view in the
light Downtown traffic. The
robbers drove off purposefully but Steve pursued more cautiously, remaining at a
safe distance whilst keeping them in sight; there was no reason to get too close,
as a police helicopter would be on its way. Fortunately traffic was light this
morning and Steve could see them ahead without getting closer than a block's
length. The gunmen made several turns and back tracked a little to see if
they were being followed. Steve kept his distance and his cool. He was not going
to let them get away with a hostage, or worse still force a situation that could
get the hostage killed. He radioed in his position and a description of the
car, as near to as he could at this distance, he mustn't spook them. The radio
officer informed him that the helicopter would be delayed, something about a
multiple murder near the University. Steve sighed; it was going to be a long day. After
30 minutes of twists and turns, of manoeuvring and backtracking the gunmen finally
pulled up at a warehouse in the valley. The two men got out of the vehicle,
and then glanced in all directions. One pulled the female hostage out of the
car and dragged her with him into the dingy warehouse, while the other carried
the holdall. They left the door of the warehouse open to add some light to the
dark interior. Steve
pulled up short of the warehouse and tried to radio in his position but the
radio just crackled. "Oh
great," he murmured, "one of L.A.'s black spots." The valley
was great but with
hills on three sides and the ocean on the other it was radio hell. He was
about to try his mobile then realised it was flashing 'low batt'. Steve groaned
inwardly, why did he have to forget to charge his phone, it was routine; he
charged it when he came home. Recriminations aside there was nothing left to do but
hang on and keep the warehouse under observation until backup arrived. He hoped
they wouldn't be too long. Steve
quietly got out of his vehicle and made his way carefully to the door of the
warehouse. He crouched and drew his gun. Cautiously he peered round the edge of the
door. 10.05
am It was
quite dim inside the dusty warehouse, but Steve could just make out the two
men tying the terrified hostage to a chair towards the clearing in the middle
of the room. She was obviously frightened and distressed, small mewing sounds
escaped her lips, mingled with whispered pleas to be allowed to go. The men
paid no attention to her pleading and while one watched, waving a gun menacingly
in her face, the other yanked her hands behind the chair and tied them
tightly. Her feet were tied to the legs of the chair. Steve
itched to rush in gun drawn and demand the release of the hostage, but without
the aid of backup, he was more cautious. The life of the hostage was the most
important thing on his mind. If he rushed in, they might shoot the hostage before
he could take both of them down. These were the only men he'd seen but there
might be more. He had to wait for the right moment. "Be
patient," he murmured to himself. Once
finished tying her up the man put a piece of tape over her mouth to prevent her
attracting attention from outside. Then both men removed their wigs and sunglasses
giving Steve his first real glimpse of their true identities. Steve
groaned inwardly, the descriptions he had given to dispatch were less than useful.
He concentrated on the conversation between the two men. "What
do we need her for now anyway?" asked the man who had been tying up the hostage. "Insurance,"
replied the other smiling. "But
we got all the insurance we need," said the first, brandishing the two
guns he had
removed from his waistband. "I
want to have some fun," he continued, inclining his head towards the
girl. "She's
pretty enough, and we've been hiding out for such a long time, I need some
distractions." "Okay,"
agreed the first man, "but let's have something to eat and drink first, then
we will be ready for fun." The
two men grinned at one another, and then walked to the back of the warehouse out of
sight. Steve heard a door bang. The
girl had renewed her muffled pleas during the exchange between the two men, as it
began to dawn on her aching, tired, frightened mind what the men planned to do
next. Steve
noticed that the warehouse was stacked at the sides with large crates and objects
covered by tarpaulins. The crates made good corners for him to hide behind
on his approach to the cleared area in the middle, where the girl sat frantically
trying to pull the ropes that bound her hands and feet so that they would
loosen and aid her escape. Steve
saw this 'lunch break' as his chance; he crept in through the door and quietly
made his way towards the woman tied to the chair. His appearance attracted
her attention and she watched his stealthy approach, her eyes widening with
fright and anticipation. She kept glancing around as if dreading the men would
return and find this man. Without a sound Steve made it to the side of the girl.
He smiled reassuringly and moved his jacket slightly so she could see his badge,
all the time scanning the warehouse visibly and audibly for the return of the
men. She looked at him, nodded slightly and a pleading look crossed her face. Steve
realised as soon as he approached the girl that she was very scared and very
tired. He didn't know how much help she would be as they made their escape to his
waiting car, parked about two hundred yards away so as not to attract attention.
He thought about the backup and how far away they might be. "If
they make it in time," he thought, and then quickly shook that thought
from his
mind. The
girl looked as if she'd been crying for a week her face was tear-stained and her
eyes were puffy. Steve began to carefully untie her feet, keeping low so as not to
attract attention should the men come back. He focussed on trying to undo the
ropes on her feet so she could move; escape to safety, but all her frantic pulling
had made the knots tighter. He holstered his gun and paid closer attention
to his task. The girl continued to cry and sniffle as he worked. The
two men reappeared at the front of the warehouse and moved in following the track
Steve had taken on his way in. They approached him silently from behind. He was
concentrating on the knots of the rope and didn't hear them coming. The girl
saw them and her eyes widened in panic and fear. But one of the men held a finger
to his lips warning her to make no sound and pointed his gun at Steve's head
as he approached. Steve
had just finished untying the girl's feet and he reached up to undo the gag,
then he noticed that the girl's eyes were fixed on something behind him. He simultaneously
reached for his gun and swung round, realising he was too late when
someone hit him on the back of the head with a heavy and solid object. Steve's
world exploded in a myriad of bright lights then suddenly went black and he
slumped forward to the floor. "Well
what, or who, do we have here?" asked the first man. The
other man just grinned and poked Steve in the ribs with the toe of his boot. The
girl stayed motionless on the chair wondering how badly this man was injured.
A drop
of blood appeared on the back of the man's head and the girl watched as it
grew into a small rivulet and ran along his hair and down onto the floor, forming
a small stain. She
cried quietly, shrinking away as one of the men came over to retie her feet to the
chair. "I
told you Flynn, I told you we were followed." He turned to the girl.
"He nearly
spoilt our fun for us didn't he?" he smiled menacingly as he retied the girl's
feet to the chair and checked her other ropes. Flynn
had moved to look at Steve. He turned him over to get a better look. "Well,
well," he said lifting Steve's gun from the floor and his badge from his
belt,
"a cop." The
other guys head jerked up from where he was continuing to menace the girl, stroking
her hair and grinning at her. "Oh
that's great, where there's one there will be more, he's bound to have radioed
in our location," he sneered. "Not
recently," said Flynn, "I told you this area is a radio black spot,
that's why I
chose this particular warehouse." "What
about his mobile phone?" asked the other man. Flynn
searched Steve's pockets and found the phone. "We
got lucky," said Flynn, "His battery is dead." The
second man's grin grew wider as he realised how cut off the cop really was. There
was silence for a few moments and then Steve began to moan and raised his hand
to his head. His silent, black world was beginning to turn to shades of grey
and he could hear voices, but as yet they didn't make any sense. "Oh
no you don't cop." Said the second man, spitting the last word as if it
was a bad
taste in his mouth. He moved his foot and aimed a vicious blow to Steve's ribs
and another to his face. His
aim was perfect and once again Steve's pain filled world plunged into silent darkness.
"Right
Mac," said Flynn. "Get his cuffs and put them on him, then drag him
over to the
door, we need to get out of here quick and get rid of this will you?" He
handed
Mac Steve's mobile phone. Mac
moved quickly. He
walked over to Steve and flipped him over. He grabbed the cuffs from his belt
and
pulled Steve's arms behind his back and put the cuffs on very tightly. Then
he grabbed hold of the handcuffs and dragged Steve over to the door. He
peered cautiously out. No sign of anyone yet," he said. He glanced down
and noticed
a bulge in Steve's jacket pocket. He reached down and removed another item
from inside. "What
about his pager?" he asked. "It's
no use to us," said Flynn. Mac
placed the pager on the floor next to the mobile phone, then lifted his foot and
brought it down hard on the pager, smashing it into several pieces. He did the
same to the phone. "Now
they're no good to anybody," he said grinning. Flynn
walked to the other side of the warehouse door and pulled a large dusty tarp
from the object it was covering. "About
time I showed you the second part of our plan," he said. Mac
turned to see a second car. "Hey
that's great Flynn; you always do plan things well." "Tie
up our cop friend's feet - we're going to put him in the trunk and take him for a
little ride." "Why
can't we just leave him here? I can make sure that he's going no place and tells
no one about us," assured Mac. "He's
now our insurance; they won't shoot if one of their own is in the car. He's
our 'get out of jail free' card," said Flynn smiling to himself. "But
he doesn't have to be in perfect condition when we return him does he?" Queried
Mac. Flynn
laughed, "You do love your work don't you Mac? Bring the other car in
when you've
done that, so it doesn't look suspicious." Mac
nodded and got to work. When
the getaway car was inside Flynn opened the trunk and removed a suitcase then
placed it on one of the packing crates. He opened it up. "Time
to confuse the cops even more," he said removing two pairs of jeans and two
baggy t-shirts. Mac
and Flynn changed from their suits into the jeans and t-shirts, and put the money
in the suitcase. The suits they then put in the holdall and left them on the
packing case. "Let's
get on with the next phase, you see to our friend and I will bring the lady
and the holdall," said Flynn. Mac
nodded. He dragged Steve to the trunk of the car and opened it. He tied Steve's
feet together, and then tied the rope to the cuffs. Then he added a piece
of tape over Steve's mouth. He
stood back to admire his handiwork. "Looks
a bit like a Thanksgiving Day turkey doesn't he?" asked Mac. "Yeah
already for stuffing, or having the stuffing knocked out of him,"
grinned his
partner. Mac
grinned back. "This
turkey's a bit heavy; give us a hand with him." Flynn
dragged the girl across the floor, still tied to the chair, and carried the
suitcase with the money in the other hand. He opened the rear passenger door and
threw the suitcase onto the floor. Then went round to the back. He
helped to lift Steve into the trunk and pushed him to the back. "I've
had an idea, let's put them both in the trunk." Mac
looked puzzled "That won't be much fun," he said. "The
cops are looking for two men and a woman, but we'll only be two men." He
grinned
at Mac. Mac grinned back and began to untie the woman from the chair. Together
they lifted the petrified woman into the trunk and slammed the lid. They
opened the driver and passenger doors and got in. Mac started the engine and
moved off. "Slowly,"
said Flynn "we don't want to attract any unwanted attention." Mac
move off and as they reached the city he eased into the traffic heading for the
Freeway. 11.25
am He was
swimming, floating. The water was warm but there was pain. He tried to concentrate.
There were two types of pain. A dull ache somewhere along his side, and a
sharp knife-like pain that seemed to be all around him. The motion was making
him nauseous. He wanted to stop. Maybe if he opened his eyes that would help.
Everything was black. There was a sound, his muddled brain tried to focus on
that sound it was to the side of him, what was it? It sounding like muffled crying.
Then he remembered. The bank robbery. The hostage. She was in here with him!
At least she was still alive. He
heard the sound change, they were on a bridge, and he realised he was in a car,
or more exactly in the trunk of a car. Steve
tried to calm his fears, he had never been afraid of small spaces but ever since
his father started doing the Houdini magic trick, the one with the box, he'd
been a little wary. He had been persuaded once, no twice, to climb inside the
box and help his father when he was practising the trick. Each time something
had gone wrong and he had spent some time locked in the box. At least then
he had been somewhere he was familiar with, the hospital. But now; now he didn't
know where he was and he was unnerved to say the least. He tried to lick his
lips but found a barrier. His
mouth was taped and he could taste blood. He began to assess his injuries. Ribs -
well, yet again they had caught someone's fury. His head was his main concern.
He could feel fresh, warm blood oozing from a wound at the back running lazily
down his neck as he moved. His jaw ached and his mouth felt swollen. He used
his tongue to assess the damage as carefully as possible. His arms - he tried
to assess his arms and hands but all feeling to these extremities was lost.
His legs he realised were tied behind him and seemed to be connected to his
hands. He tried to move his legs and gasped as his manacled wrists protested with a
screaming voice of their own. Sweat broke out along his forehead and he felt
the floating sensation gaining ground. He focused on keeping his breathing shallow
and even to help his ribs and forced himself to calm down. Steve
tried to reason a way out, but his feelings of helplessness were mounting with
each injury he identified. The
vehicle slowed and turned to the right. Steve slid forward and gasped as his head
hit the side of the trunk. The
movements of the vehicle suddenly became more erratic as the road surface worsened,
and Steve began to bounce around a bit in the trunk. Then something bounced
into him and he slid back banging his already pounding head once more on the
side of the trunk. 12.35
am The
movements of the vehicle slowed and Steve realised that it was slowing to a stop. His
relief at surviving the car ride immediately changed to a feeling of dread as two
of the car doors banged shut and the lid of the trunk was lifted. Steve
blinked in the light of the torch as it shone into the trunk. "Well
aren't you cosy?" said Mac as he glanced in to find the girl and the cop
had
both slid to the back of the trunk and were lying next to one another, almost
touching. Mac
and Flynn lifted the girl out and carried her to one side of the car out of Steve's
sight. Steve tried to make out something to help him identify where the car
was. But he could only see dim shapes, it was too dark. From the smell of hay
and straw that wafted into the trunk Steve guessed it was a barn of some sort. Flynn
and Mac returned and half dragged, half lifted Steve out of the trunk. Steve
realised the barn was fairly large - the car was in one half and the other half
was littered with packing crates of various sizes. The car was a different car,
Steve realised with mounting fear. They had rendered his description less helpful
than he had first thought. Mac
then took hold of the handcuffs and dragged Steve across the floor to lie near
some smaller packing cases alongside the girl. Pain
shot up Steve's arms and screamed into his head. He felt he was going to pass
out as an almost overwhelming feeling of nausea and dizziness enveloped him,
but Mac released him just in time; and as a sheen of sweat broke out on his face,
Steve closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing, trying to calm his
fears and quell the approaching feeling that something very bad was about to happen. Once
the feelings of sickness and dizziness passed, he opened his eyes to see the girl
looking at him. He tried to reassure her by nodding slightly to let her know
he was okay. Okay? That was a drastic understatement. He didn't know where they
were; what was going to happen to them; how he was going to alert anyone to help
them; and they were both going to need medical attention real soon. How could
the situation be any worse? Steve
gingerly rolled onto his injured side trying to see what Mac and Flynn were
doing. He groaned as he moved, the pain shot out from his otherwise numb hands
and threatened to send him into blackness again. He slowed down and moved more
carefully, turning his head more than his body. As his eyes became accustomed
to the restricted light Steve could make out their location. Flynn
and Mac were over by the trunk of the car, looking at something they had placed
there. Steve realised they had changed clothes at some point, rendering his
description less than useless. He resigned himself to the fact that help was going
to be a long time coming. "Well
I think we've made quite a nice haul wouldn't you say Mac?" asked Flynn. "Very
nice," agreed Mac "and we've got some insurance and a game to play
later," he
continued indicating Steve and the girl with a nod of his head. "Let's
make our two guests as 'comfortable' as we can shall we?" suggested Flynn. Mac
nodded and they both made their way over to Steve and the girl. Mac
pulled Steve out of the way and moved around him and towards the girl. She began
to whimper as the two men approached. Flynn cut the rope that tied her hands
behind her. She shrank from the touch of the men. "It
looks like she doesn't want to play," said Mac sadly. "Don't worry,
we're just
going to settle you in first, playing is for later," he promised moving
her hands
around and tying them in front of her. "Just
making you a bit more comfortable," Flynn stated, smiling. The
sudden rush of blood to her fingers caused the girl to feel giddy and she slumped
forwards. Mac caught her. "Don't
want you to hurt yourself, do we?" he sneered. Steve
moved carefully until he was on his knees, Mac was just to his side. He turned
slightly and launched himself at Mac's legs, shoulders first. Mac was taken
by surprise and fell forward hitting his shoulder hard on one of the packing
crates. Flynn helped him up. "Why
you……" snarled Mac, rubbing his shoulder and striding menacingly towards
Steve. Steve closed his eyes; this was going to be bad. Mac
swung his foot and it connected solidly with Steve's already sensitised ribs.
Steve tensed as the foot swung forward and connected again with his ribs. He
knew they couldn't take much more of this punishment. He both felt and heard the
snap as at least one of his ribs began to give way under the onslaught and he
welcomed the pain free blackness that embraced him. The
girl watched as Mac continued to kick the cop's ribs two more vicious blows before
Flynn managed to pull Mac away from him. Mac
was furious. He turned to face Flynn, panting and scowling like he wanted to hit
him. Flynn
put one hand on the gun in his waistband. "Time for more games
later," he said.
"Let's get them both tied up securely so we don't have a repeat of this performance."
He moved over to separate Steve's legs from his arms and then pulled
the legs forward. He tied them together again and pulled the rope over to the
pillar, attaching it securely. Mac
took his time brushing straw from his clothes, he needed to calm down, or things
might get out of hand and the fun would be over too soon. They
had some time before they needed to head south towards Mexico. Time to let things
cool down a bit and enjoy himself he thought. Mac
moved over to help Flynn place the girl so that they could tie her feet to a support
pillar. Mac checked the ropes on her hands and pulled them to check they were
secure, the girl moaned and Mac stroked her hair. But instead of the reassuring
effect he thought it might have, it had the opposite effect, and she struggled
and whimpered, cringing away from him. Mac
grabbed a handful of hair and pulled. The girl's head jerked back and tears of
pain began to pool at the corners of her eyes. Mac lifted his other hand and stroked
her face. Her mouth opened under the sweat and tear-loosened tape. The corner
of the tape came loose and a scream pierced the quiet of the barn. "Shut
her up," shouted Flynn. Mac
swung his arm and struck the girl across the face with the flat of his hand. The
scream increased in volume. He let go of her hair and swung his fist this time,
striking her on the side of the head. Her head snapped sideways and slammed
into a crate. She went limp and slumped to the floor. 1.47
pm Silence.
No sound at all. Something was wrong. Steve's battered senses broke through
the enveloping darkness and alerted him to the lack of noise. He listened
more carefully - nothing. Cautiously he opened his eyes. He was lying on his
back on the floor with his legs stretched and tied to a support pillar. His
hands were still cuffed behind him, but at least he wasn't trussed up anymore.
He tried to roll from his right side onto his left, to ease his breathing
and give the ribs on his right side a little space. His
ribs, hands and arms protested at his movements, each one trying to be the loudest
protestor, but he refused to listen to them. As he turned the girl came within
his field of vision. What
he saw made him feel sick. A large purple bruise had appeared on her left cheek
and a small cut just above it was oozing blood which was slowly trickling down
her cheek. His initial shock vanished to be replaced by cold determination. They
had to get out of here. Steve
gradually rolled carefully on to his side, the exertion making him gasp and
pant with pain. But his determination won out over the pain and eventually after
many careful, cautious manoeuvres he was sitting upright. From here he got his
first proper look at their prison. Something was different. The
car. It was missing. Where was it? Did that mean that their tormentors were missing
too? Steve didn't know how long he had been out, when would they be back?
Would they come back? All these questions raced into his head. He tried to concentrate
on finding a way to escape. Escape, that was funny, he might even have
laughed if his ribs weren't so sore. But there had to be a way. As he
continued his mental assessment of the barn, the girl began to moan and move
her head. Then she groaned and stopped moving. Steve wished he could ask her
what had happened; he pushed his lips apart and pushed against the tape with his
tongue. A piece of tape came loose. He turned his head and rubbed the corner of the
tape on his shoulder and gradually it pealed back and then fell completely
from his mouth. "Are
you okay?" he whispered, pain and exertion making his voice sound
hoarse. The
girl moaned and started to move. She lifted her head from the floor and gingerly
raised her hand to touch her cheek. She winced as her fingers made contact
with the cut. "I think so," she whispered back. "What
happened?" asked Steve. "I
screamed," replied the girl, "and Mac didn't like it." She
shrugged her shoulders
and raised her head to look at Steve. "How
are you?" she asked. "Okay,"
said Steve trying to hide the fact that every breath was painful and moving
was a slow, very agonising process. "You
don't lie very well," said the girl. Steve
smiled carefully. "I'm Steve," he said. "Abigail….er Abby," said the girl realising this
was no time or place for formality. Abby
glanced around. "Where have they gone?" Suddenly realising their
tormentors were
absent. "I
don't know, it was quiet when I came to," replied Steve continuing his assessment
of the barn and the possibilities for escape. There
were farm implements on the wall behind the crates along with oil lamps and
what looked like bits of machinery - 'tractor parts maybe' thought Steve. "What
are you looking for?" asked Abby. "A
way out," replied Steve. "What's behind those crates to your
left?" asked Steve. Abby
rolled over and pulled the rope attached to her feet as far as she could. "It
looks like some propane gas canisters and a sort of …… cutter, like a huge
rotary blade," determined Abby. "Can
you reach it?" asked Steve. Abby
rolled and wiggled, edging herself closer to the side of the crate. "No
it's too far; this crate is in the way," replied Abby, stretching the
rope around
the corner of the crate. "It's just a little out of my reach," she
gasped as the
rope tightened and she was pulled to a halt by the pillar. "I think I
can reach
it if we could just move this crate, even a little." She paused, waiting
for
Steve's reply. "Steve?"
she called. "Sh!"
came the reply. "Listen." Abby
stopped squirming about and listened. Then
they heard the unmistakable sound of a car engine. To Be
Continued |
