Disclaimer: Alliance owns Benton Fraser, Ray Kowalski,and Turnbull, not
me. They will be returned in fairly good condition......with minimal
injuries. 

  In the past few weeks I've gone from listening to Loreena McKennitt
and Sarah MacLachlan to Joy Division and Psychotica and it shows in my
writing.  This story is graphic and violent. You've been warned. The
title is a Joy Divison song, no infingement intended.  As always opinions
are welcome: Vassago@dazedandconfused.com 

Rated R for violence.

                          Something Must Break
                                   By
                                   Rae

"Please wake up, Constable." Benton Fraser opened his eyes slowly. A
hand cupped his chin, tilting his head back. "Constable?" A soft moan
escaped his lips, his eyelids held at haf-mast. His head ached, felt
heavy on his shoulders. The effects of the gas had not altogether left
him yet. Ben sucked in a breath, trying to desperately to recall those
last few minutes before he'd lost consciousness. 
                       
                          ****
 
  Pieces, only pieces. The safehouse. Constable Turnbull had taken the
snitch, Dixon and his family to an altenate location, known only to himself
and Fraser. Benny closed his eyes again, clinging to the memory. He and
Kowalski had remained behind, under the guise that they were still guarding
Dixon.   They'd waited in the safehouse for nearly four hours. And then
the men came. Fraser heard them first on the stairs; saw the shadow of
their steps beneath the door. Ray pushed Benny back and drew his weapon.
Outside the door, only the shuffling of feet. There was a loud hissing
from the vents then and the room filled with a cloudy mist.  Ben, on
his knees, heard his friend's short, hacking coughs grow into pitched
gasps for breath. Kowalski fought, while Fraser, accepting the battle
as lost, eased onto the floor as his senses dulled. Within the smoky
haze there was the sharp thud of a body crumpling to the hardwood. The
Mountie reached out a hand to his unconscious friend before he, himself
drifted into darkness. 
                       
                         *****
  
"Constable." His head was tilted up once more and a light spray of cold
water struck his face. His mouth opened beneath it, begging some relief
for his sore throat. For but a few merciful seconds he was obliged and
then it stopped. "Open your eyes please, Constable Fraser." The eyelids
came up fully. Eyes still stinging from the gas, tears blurred his vision.
Hands bound tight behind the chair in which he sat prevented him from
wiping away the excess moisture. Small, soft fingers,like those of a
child performed the task for him. A young woman stood before him, studying
the saline as she rubbed it between her fingers.  Fraser moaned, trying
to find words. The woman turned her attention to him and folded her arms
across her chest. "My apologies, Constable. I would have let you rest
awhile longer, but I'm afraid I haven't the luxary of time." He took
note of her physical attributes. She was petite in size, but her posture
and refined manner indicated command and leadership. A thick, black ,curly
mane of hair framed a round, flawless face. Her features, like her body
were delicate, but the inky black orbs of her eyes held a hardness which
he had never seen before in a woman.  Fraser sighed, studying the room.
It was wide with a very high roof, but sparsely furnished. A unused stockhouse
of some kind perhaps. To the right of where he sat there was a closed
door. An exit? "Where is Rutherford Dixon, Constable?" His eyes returned
to the woman, but he said not a word. His head throbbed. The room was
unbearably hot and it made him feel nauseous. She knelt before him, her
hands resting on his knees. "Where is Dixon?", she asked again. 
"I cannot give you that information.", he replied.  Her jaw tightened.
"You will. My superiors do not tolerate failure. Neither do I." Her voice
was gentle, yet icy and menacing. For a time there was silence between
them. Benton swallowed slowly. "You speak English well and your accent
is distinctly American. How did you get involved with the Russian mob?"
She met his gaze and leveled it. "We share similar interests." The hands
on his knees moved up to his thighs. "Constable-" A sudden fear jolted
Benny--Ray.
"Where is Detective Vecchio?" The woman smiled thinly.
"Detective Kowalski?" Fraser gasped and she laughed.
"I wouldn't worry. Your secret is safe with us. Any action against our
competitors is always welcome." Confused, overwhelmed, Ben shook his
head. This woman was a professional, but obviously not so disciplined
as others in her field. "Where is he?" She gestured to the door that
he now realized led to another room. "In there, resting. He has been
asking for you since he awoke." Her smile grew wider."He is quite a character."
Benny was not comforted by her affability. If anything, it put him more
on edge. "He has nothing to do with this." The woman nodded.
"I know. This matter invovles the Canadian government. I would imagine
the detective was kept very much in the dark about the details." "Yes."
The answer came in a whimper. 
"You will be released, Constable. We just need to know where Dixon is."
"I cannot give you that information." The woman sighed, impatience showing
through her pleasant expression. 

                             ****
  
  There was shouting from the other room then, and a clamourous disturbance.
The door opened and a tall, built man with curly red haired stumbled
out, holding his arm. The woman turned to regard him with mild annoyance.
"What is it, Tim?" The man swore.
"He bit me, Vin! The little bugger bit me!" An amused smile came to her
lips. "You should have been more careful.", she replied, going to him.
She removed his hand, examing the wound that was bleeding slightly. "You'll
live." He wrenched free, cursing incoherently. From inside the room,
Kowalski was verbally pushing every line. "Do you wanna get kicked in
the head? 'Cause I swear I'll-" A thud cut of Ray's noisy threat. "I'll
kill him!", Tim snapped. The woman dug her fingers into the wound and
he cried out. "You will not touch him." Her tone was steady, cool, hinting
that there would be no argument Tim pulled free of her once more, still
very angry. He was facing her down, towering over her, but she wasn't
backing away. Her voice was low as she spoke so Benny strained to hear,
but caught nothing but a few incoherent pieces.  Whatever her words,
they were having a miraculous effect on this large man who stepped back
like a beaten dog. The woman's grin returned at once. "Go put a band-aid
on that. And when you're done, get Mikolo. I think we're ready to begin."
Tim nodded and disappeared into the other room, slamming the door behind
him. 

                              ****
   
   The woman watched him as she waited for Mikolo and Tim to return.
Benton was awed by her, the sheer power that she possessed. "What business
do you have with this man, Dixon?" She sighed.
"Me? None." Her lack of a clearer explanation irritated him.
"Then why are you so keen to find him, Vin?" The woman retained her stoic
expression at the mention of her name. It seemed no bother that he had
picked it up. "Because the men I work for have business with him." Benny
nodded, exaggerating his understanding. "So you are running errands for
them? Doing what work they are too wise to do themselves?" "Yes." A knowing
smile; she knew where these questions were leading but was far too bright
to fall for it. Ben realized this but went forward anyway. "You are a
slave then?" The smile remained.
"We are all slaves, Constable, be it to others or to our own convictions."
He looked away. It was so terribly hot. "You said we'd be released?"
She nodded.
"All I need is Dixon's location. I am not in the habit of killing people
without a good reason." A stray curl was pushed behind her ear. The pause,
he suspected, was more for dramtic effect. "I am, however, an expert
in the area of inflicting pain." Fraser managed a small smile. Shamefully,
he found himself respecting this woman who was not so unlike himself.
"I'll remember that."
 
                               ****

 The door opened, Tim stalked through, followed by a handsome, lanky
fellow with close cropped hair. Fraser assumed this man to be Mikolo.
Even this one had a certain dignity about him. He was calm, graceful
in step and manner, like Vin. Tim seemed the oddball of the three, his
own mannerisms as jerky and violent as his character. Mikolo was slipping
on a pair of brass knuckles and flexing his hand. "Are we ready?" Vin
nodded. 
"Yes."  Tim grinned at Benny, balling his large hands into tight fists.
"Let me." , he said. Mikolo glanced at the young woman. She shrugged
and Mikolo stepped back. Vin sighed, moving toward Fraser. "Constable,
one more time, where is Rutherford Dixon?" Benny's body was quivering
slightly with anticipation of the beating to come and his stomach churned
nervously. His tongue ran over his lips, but he remained silent. Tim's
grin had grown ridiculously wide. "This is gonna be great."
"Last chance, Benton." He shook his head.
"I can't." Vin frowned, walking past Fraser slowly, but gave no signal
to the muscle standing by. The change in her persona was startling. No
longer congenial or warm. Her two companions watched her curiously. Mikolo
asked her something in Russian and she replied in same. His baffled expression
was ignored and she turned back to the Mountie. "A beating will not likely
loosen his tongue." Tim drove his fist into his palm, frustrated by the
build-up which was denied release. "What the hell do you suggest?" Her
arms folded across her chest and she watched Benton intensely. Under
her scrutiny he weakened. Something in the Mountie's eyes betrayed him
and a slow, icy smile crept across his interrogator's painted lips. "Do
his partner, Mikolo.", she said, her eyes still focused on Fraser. She
relished the pain that flickered across the lovely blue eyes at her words.
"Tim, help him." The curly-haired man grinned at Mikolo and followed
him into the other room still pounding his palm with his fist. Benny
watched this woman, unable to read her. "Why are you doing this?", he
asked. The smile grew, almost beautiful. She leaned forward to place
a finger on his lips. "Shhh." Gesturing to the other room, she whispered,"Listen."
  Silence dominated the building and then....grunts, punches unrelenting
and more grunts, moans. Fraser's jaw tightened. Even behind the closed
door he could hear the sickening sound of knuckle contacting with bone
and flesh, the pained gasp and occasional cry that followed. The woman's
face was only inches from his own. "He's your friend.", she said, somewhat
sympathtically,"Don't do this to him." The Mountie's tough, strong exterior
impressed her, but she wasn't blind to the deep cracks in the facade
that were growing larger with every blow that was laid upon the detective.
"Where is Dixon?", she asked again. Still Benny stared at her in stony
silence. Vin nodded, straightening. Fraser watched as she went to the
next room  poked her head inside, giving instructions to the men in smooth
Russian.  She moved from the doorway and leaned against the wall, eyes
again on Fraser. A moment later the door flew open and Kowalski came
flying through it. The detective lay where he  landed, coughing and unsuccessfully
attempting to muffle moans of pain. Benny's breathing quickened as he
took in the blood, cuts and swollen welts that marred his friend's face.
Vin was close again, though he didn't recall seeing her move. "You are
hurting him.", she whispered.

                               ****
  
 Ray Kowalski rolled onto his side slowly. He raised himself up slightly,
trying to keep his sore, bruised torso off the hard concrete. No sooner
had he done this than one of those big ape-like bastards kicked him hard
in the ribs. Ray screamed and fell hard on his back. Pain shot through
his body. He slipped his arms around his stomach and curled up, whispering
over and over to himself that he could control his pain. "No weakness.",
he hissed softly through harsh gasps. He was choking on his own blood.
There seemed to be no part of his face that wasn't running red. A cut
above his right eye bled down, blurring his vision. His cut, swollen
lips felt nothing of the hot blood and saliva that he bailed from his
mouth. He had swallowed so much.  Kowalski wanted to vomit ,but somehow
managed to hold it down. He'd gotten his ass kicked before, sure. But
this...this was a new experience in pain tolerance. And they hadn't even
been at him that long. He caught sight of Benny bound to a chair then
and he smiled thinly.  The Mountie was alive. "Hey, Frase." A lump caught
in Benton's throat. It was something of a relief to hear the detective's
voice. "How are you, Ray?", he asked gently.
"Oh, can't complain." Fraser almost smiled. So strong, this one. If nothing
else it was Ray's anger and defiance that would get them through this.

                                ****

  Vin moved toward Ray, squatted beside him. Benny struggled to keep
his emotions from turning on him as she gathered a fist full of Ray's
hair and yanked his head up. He struggled to keep quiet as his slender,
blond partner yelped in pain. Vin was looking at Ben steadily now. "I
can make this go on. Until he never stops screaming." 
"Psychotic bitch!" Whatever agony Ray's body was in his rage pushed aside
long enough in a vicious attempt to strike her down.  "Ray, don't.",
Benton gasped. The woman was faster, more experienced. She grabbed the
hand that reached for her and broke two digits with ease. A shrill scream
from Ray and he curled up again, dragging his injured hand beneath him.
Vin was already walking away, smoothing her suit. "I'll ask you again
, Constable. Where is Rutherford Dixon?" There was no reply from Ben.
"How much does this man's life mean to you, Benton? More than Detective
Kowalski's?"  Ray, still clutching his hand, was observing them now,
his eyes darting between Fraser and the woman. "You can end his suffering
or I can let Tim and Mikolo at him again." "Bring 'em on." The detective
was grinning wildly.
"Stop it, Ray." Ben's voice was near pleading. His friend looked at him,
the green eyes wide with mad, self-destructive determination. "You ain't
talking, Fraser. You do your duty, I'll do mine." Vin was watching Ray
now. "And what is your duty, Detective?" Kowalski didn't reply, but she
went on. "It wasn't your assignment, Detective. You just went along to
help, am I right? Now you're the one taking the beating. Fraser will
talk," Her eyes moved to the Mountie now "or your suffering will be worse
than anything he can imagine." Ray scoffed. Vin nodded, speaking in Russian
again. The two men moved quickly, pulling the detective to his feet.
Mikolo held his arms up to a pipe just above Ray's head while Tim handcuffed
him. It was the metal links alone that held him, for he was too exhausted
to stand on his own. But then, in this position his feet barely touched
the ground. The very thought of what was to come now made him weary.
"Constable?" Benny's lips trembled, but still he did not give in. Vin
gave the signal to a much hyped-up Tim and the large man stepped foward
and drove his fist hard to Ray's stomach. A choked cry, coughing. Another
blow and another.  His face, his side, his chest. Benny felt ill as he
watched. What greater torture was there than to see this happening to
his partner, his friend and be powerless to stop it? Kowalski's head
whipped around violently as Tim struck his face again. Blood fountained
from his mouth, dribbled over his sweat-drenched shirt. The detective's
slender body twisted with the force of the blows, the cuffs cutting into
his flesh. This beating went on for thirty minutes and in that time Vin
did not ask a single question. 

                                 ****
  
  The pain was unimaginable. Ray chest heaved with desperate breaths.
He couldn't meet Fraser's eyes. Strange. Here, he was the one getting
smacked around and yet he felt guilty about the position these bastards
had put Fraser in. Ray wasn't going to let them use him as a pawn to
hurt the Mountie. But, how much longer..... 
   Kowalski's body was refusing any order he gave it. His arms ached.
Blood from his torn wrists, ran down his arms. His shirt, sticky with
blood and sweat clung to his chest. It was too much. No more, please.
But he couldn't show this weakness to them, couldn't show it to Fraser.
When Tim's hand finally  dropped to his side,(most likely at the woman's
command) Ray allowed himself a sigh of relief.  The woman tilted his
head up and poured cold water over his face. It washed away much off
the red and returned some strength to him. "Well, Constable?" Ray met
his friend's eyes. Fraser was crying. He could see the moisture glistening
on the Benton's face. "Where is he?", she demanded. Again, silence. Now
she motioned to Mikolo and Ray closed his eyes as the beating resumed.

                                   ****
  
  Ben cried softly as Mikolo gave Kowalski another workover. His heart
drummed out a beat of fierce guilt in his chest. He would not give up
Dixon. That was not an option. But what about Ray? He closed his eyes,
still able to hear his friend's anguished groans and grunts. He would
die for certain if this continued. From what he could tell of this Vin,
she was a woman who got what she wanted. Ray was only one weapon in the
arsenal as far as she was concerned and she would most likely use him
to the fullest extent, even if it killed him. "Oh, God!" Benny opened
his eyes when he heard Kowalski's cry. The detective head was bowed and
he sobbed quietly. Mikolo was standing close, hand extended to steady
the swaying form. "P-please. N-no more." The raspy plea from Ray cut
through Fraser and the Mountie's heart sank. "We have to stop, ", Mikolo
said. 
"Why?", Vin asked. He slipped the brass knuckles from his hand.
"He's loosing  consciousness." She studied Ben closely, as she had before."
"Then throw some water on him and continue." The man shook his head.
"If we continue, he won't survive." She smiled.
"It is a sacrifice we can afford." 	Mikolo sighed and replaced the brass
knuckes on his hand. "Stop!", Ben snapped. Ray's strangled, uneven breaths
were deafening, echoing off the walls of the stockhouse. "Where is Dixon,
Constable?" Ben said nothing.
"Fraser, I can't...." The detective's voice trailed off, but his eyes
begged Benton. Tears streamed down Fraser's face as he mouthed the words:
'I'm sorry'. Ray closed his blood-shot eyes. "I know.", he murmured.

  Ben watched as Mikolo struck his partner again. And again. It would
not stop until Ray was dead. Why are you doing this? "Wait." The Mountie
was surprised to hear Vin speak up. Mercy? That was not in her character.
"I don't have much more time. Obviously Detective Kowalski's life is
something you are willing to gamble with. But, " The grin was spread
on her lips again. "is the same true for Detective Vecchio?" It seemed
Ben's whole body shuddered with fear at the sound of that name." Vin
looked back to her man with the brass knuckles.  "Mikolo, make contact
with the Italians. Tell them we have information regarding the Bookman."
Kowalski raised his head. Weak as he was, that name also captured his
attention.  Now they were using Vecchio.  It wasn't going to end "Wait!",
Benny gasped, bowing his head. All eyes were on him.
"Waukegan. There is houseboat anchored in the harbor. It's called The
Mentira.The only people aboard the vessel are another Constable, Dixon
and his family." Ray stared at him with a mixture of  horror and hurt.
Even as he spoke there was a far away howl. Hopeful, he listened. Yes.
The blast of sirens pierced the quiet of the stockhouse. "We have to
leave." Mikolo latched onto Vin and Tim, dragging them out, and leaving
Fraser in the chair and the detective still cuffed to the pipe.  Benny
glanced at Ray. "They won't make it.", the detective whispered. The Mountie
closed his eyes. Time was at a stand still. The sirens grew louder. There
was shouting, gunfire. 

                                 ****

Through the din he heard a soft chuckle from Kowalski. Concerned, Benny
strained to get a better look at him. "So, that's what it comes down
to, huh, Fraser? What you would do for Vecchio, you can't do for me?"
Those words tore through him bullets. " No! I lied. It was a false location,
Ray, something I thought of off the top of my head." The detective raised
his head slightly. Tears had washed some of the blood from his face,
but his eyes were....Benny had never seen such misery. "You could have
lied for me, Fraser.", he whispered. Benton bit back the tears that were
again standing in his own eyes.  As the police burst into the room Ray
lost consciousness and Benny felt the familiar coccon of guilt and self-loathing
spinning about him. In a haze he heard an officer say that the three
suspects had been shot. Dead. All three. It was over. "Oh God, Ray, I'm
so sorry." Fraser didn't even know to which one he spoke. 

                                 ****                               

 Every day that Ray Kowalski was in the hosptail, Ben went to see him.
The few hours there had spent in that stockhouse had permanently altered
their relationship. Friends. Everything had changed. Partners. They sat
out each visit in silence. Trust.  And then Benny would leave and Ray
never said a word.