Lea Barrett

If you recognize the characters, they belong to Alliance. All others are my creation.

The quotes from White Fang by Jack London are used without permission.

This is my first effort at including RayK. Chronologically, this takes place about a year after Call of the Wild. RayV has divorced Stella and returned to Chicago. Fraser and RayK have returned from their adventure. Some details from COTW are included, some were discarded.

Dark. Dark. Pooling around him in waves as oppressive as drowning. His breath drew through his body in tiny gasps. Light and warmth ceased as surely as the slam of a coffin lid. Pain throbbing across cramped legs and arms and back in endless waves until his mind dissolves into the blackness too.

If he considered it, the darkness did not bother him. He spent many nights under cloud filled skies where the only light came from his memories. He welcomed those times when nothing stood between him and the cold, dark vastness of his home.

And the seclusion presented no serious concerns. He spent most of his life alone. He understood isolation but he understood the peace of solitude as well. He relished his aloneness.

He crawled forward and around some time before. His sense of time and place completely erased now. He only knew of previous and now. In the previous, he crawled around the enclosure finding it to be no more than three feet by three feet. Barely enough space to kneel. And when he rose, he arrived at a four foot ceiling with a nasty crack to the skull. A box. An enclosure. He thought of it as a closet but unless the owner maintained only shoes, this was no closet.

And this was the problem with breathing. Trapped inside something so small, like a calf about to become veal. Trapped and helpless and alone in the dark.

His hands were tied with some kind of wire behind his back. His ankles were tied together as well. And the two wires were connected so he could not maneuver his arms to the front of his body even if space permitted it. Something like a hood was draped over his head, covering the tape across his eyes. He crouched on his knees, unable to stretch the endless cramps in his body, unable to breathe inside the fabric, unable to escape.

For a long time now, they would come. He thought they came twice a day but he was certain the intervals between visits changed each time. He could not judge the passage of time by their arrival. The hood, the blindfold was never removed. He would feel the change in the air, hear the creak of a door and then they would drag him out of the box, take him to the washroom, and then return him to the box. Six visits meant three days. He was hungry and horribly thirsty.

The pattern changed abruptly on the seventh visit. He was taken out of the box, taken to the washroom, then taken to another room. It felt bigger, the floor was concrete, the sounds of footsteps echoed. His hands were released and then suspended above his head. He was beaten with something leather and flat, like a belt. Helpless, blinded, he couldn't escape or fight back. When it was over, they put him back in the box. Some time later, he made another uneventful trip to the washroom, but the ninth visit returned him to the concrete room. The beating came hard and fast but not fast enough. Nearly unconscious, he was returned to the closet. They replaced the wires on his wrists and ankles. He couldn't lie down or curl up; he could only kneel until unconsciousness rolled him against the smooth wall.

They never spoke to him. They never spoke to each other. He had no idea what they sounded like or what they looked like and that fact was as spooky as anything else.

He didn't think he'd survive another trip to the concrete room. Either they would beat him to death or he would die from his injuries or shock inside the closet. But, of course, he already knew he was going to die. That's what all of this was about.

He and his friend, Detective Ray Vecchio were looking for these people. They spent months searching while the body count of young, dark haired men increased. They were found in alleys, in abandoned vehicles, in garbage bins. Serial killers. They knew from the many autopsies that the victims were kept alive for several days. They were tortured and killed; scrubbed clean and dumped somewhere open for the police to find. Ray thought it was the work of one killer because statistically, serial killers work alone.

He remembered wondering how one man, even a strong man could subdue a victim for so many days, then bathe them, then dump them. The victims were not small or frail. In fact, the profile showed the killers preferred large, strong men. The profiler from the FBI suggested the killer wanted to tear down that strength because he was threatened by it or because someone in their past had great strength, probably a father or uncle who abused them.

He agreed with some of it, had his own ideas about others. He assisted Ray because he always helped with investigations and this was the first time he had ever dealt with a serial killer. Even his superior officer, Inspector Thatcher, agreed the experience would be good for his career. She approved his trip to a small town in New York because a new victim was discovered there.

Ray used his own connections as part of the Chicago task force to finagle the trip to New York as well.

Neither ever expected the case to take such an unusual turn. He never expected to be one of the victims. Even when one of the FBI agents kidded him about looking like a target, he merely shrugged it off. He was a police officer. He investigated killers, he found them, he arrested them. He did not become their prey.

Being caught this way happened out of stupidity. His father would call it arrogance.

Ray Vecchio had knocked on his hotel room door. He told him they had a good lead on the suspect. He felt the familiar adrenaline as he slipped into the rental car. He did not bother to correct Ray's driving. He was excited, anticipating the final capture of a killer that spanned three states and at least 8 victims.

The FBI arrived simultaneously in front of an abandoned tenement. It smelled like feces and urine and mud and mildew. The agent in charge, Special Agent Michael Brown, directed. He sent two agents to stand in the alley by a fire escape. He sent two other agents to cover both sides of the building though there were no windows or exits there. He sent Ray and two more agents inside. Brown had no jurisdiction over him. He followed Ray. They entered the front door. It screeched from lack of use. Spider webs assailed them in the doorway. Ray pushed them away with a disgusted groan. They stood in the foyer of what used to be a large tenement home to maybe a hundred families. The carpet was too dirty and stained to even guess at a color. Gaping holes peered up from the fabric. Some with burned fibers, some just worn through. The walls looked yellow in the sinking sunlight.

Carefully backing each other up, the two agents-what were their names? started opening the ground floor apartment doors. Odors that no one wanted to identify filled the foyer. Rats ran in panic to opposing corners, diving for safety inside wall cavities. Spiders scurried across their homes to the furthermost corners. The men grimaced with each open door that led to some new repugnance. Decaying furniture, stained mattresses, used needles, empty alcohol bottles, rotted food, rodents and insects. All things existed there. All things except the killer they sought.

The agents argued with each other. Brown specifically told them to come out after clearing the ground floor. He wanted to send additional personnel in to cover the second level. But, then they all heard it. Something, probably a glass bottle, rolling across the floor upstairs. Ray wanted to go up. He wanted to go up. But, the others wanted to go out and follow orders. While Ray argued with them, he decided they could no longer wait. He started up the stairs on his own. He ran up, taking two steps at a time. He heard Ray yell to him. He heard Ray coming from behind him. He almost waited but he saw it. A shadow crossing the wall in the last unit. A moving, human shadow. Too afraid, they might miss this opportunity, he ran ahead. He threw the door fully open revealing an empty room. Then a crash sounded behind him. He heard Ray curse. He turned around to check on his friend and then there was pain and darkness. And that's all he had known since.

He couldn't remember eating or drinking. He couldn't remember the feel of the sun or the soft fur of his wolf. He couldn't see Ray in his head anymore, or Inspector Meg Thatcher. Dark and pain and aloneness. That's all there was in the now. Nothing previous seemed to exist inside the closet.

The small creak of the door sounded. He didn't need to use the washroom. He wanted to stretch, to feel air moving but fear took his head and his heart like a noose. He pushed back inside the closet. He struggled uselessly against the hands dragging him into the open. He stumbled on stiff, trembling legs.

They did not bother to take him to the washroom. Too much time without nourishment rendered the errand pointless. He knew it, he supposed they must know it too. He found himself back in the cement room. He knew he was hunched over, he could feel the bend in his body. He could barely stand. A few moments later, he was suspended again with his feet barely touching the floor.

Detective Ray Vecchio stood outside the tenement building with his hands in his pockets. The sky sparkled above him with stars and a half moon. A cool wind blew off the Chemung River sending prickly chills down his spine. He just stood there finally understanding the truth.

When Benny went missing almost a week before, he nearly lost his mind. His best friend had literally vanished in an obvious trap. Clearly any of them could have fallen into the snare. There was no way anyone could predict that he would break out from the group. Well, no one except Ray could have predicted it. And even as Ray ran after him and the stair broke through catching his ankle, he still had not realized the trap was sprung.

He just dragged his foot free and followed his partner down the hall. Ray checked inside each room, calling as he opened doors. The FBI followed him. They initially wanted to go outside and report to Special Agent Brown but with an officer, even an unofficial officer like Benny, running straight into trouble, they had to follow Ray. So he heard them on the steps behind him. He heard them looking inside rooms he already covered. And with a dreadful fear, they realized Benny was gone.

Thirty officers and agents searched the building. They searched the neighborhood. They searched people and cars and surrounding businesses. They searched for three days. Benny was gone. Just thinking it made Ray's heart seize. The killer had him. The killer who tortured and murdered without remorse or pity actually had Benny.

Fraser's boss, Inspector Thatcher blamed Ray. She reminded him that Constable Benton Fraser was unarmed and inexperienced with killers of this nature. She reminded him that Constable Fraser was his friend and his partner and he should have been watching out for him. She did not remind him that Fraser was an excellent police officer with practical skills and amazing luck. She did not mention that he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself in any situation. That he had proved repeatedly that a babysitter was not necessary even though he did not carry a gun.

Ray's sister, Francesca blamed him. She didn't say it but he heard the blame over the phone. Her anxious tears accused him with every soft word. He knew she was in love with his friend, even if they had no future, and she was scared.

And Stanley Raymond Kowalski blamed him. Kowalski knew better than anyone how reckless Fraser could be. For a year when Ray Vecchio went undercover with the Iguana family, as an accountant/killer named Armando Langostini, Kowalski pretended to be Vecchio in order to protect his cover. He took over Vecchio's life including his friendship with Fraser. Vecchio was more than slightly jealous when he returned to find Kowalski all over his life. Friends with his family, friends with his friends, Kowalski performed his job perfectly. Vecchio hated it. And Kowalski hated him for coming back.

Then when it looked like Vecchio would retire to Florida, Kowalski and Fraser went to the arctic north in search of an adventure. They were both surprised to return six months later with Vecchio back at his job and back in his previous Detective First Grade capacity. They were more surprised when Kowalski was transferred to a new district.

Kowalski blamed Ray. He assumed Vecchio engineered the transfer. Ray admitted he thought of it but he didn't do it. Fraser believed him. Kowalski did not. Consequently, while Fraser maintained a close friendship with both of them, the three were never together.

None of that mattered now because Ray finally understood the truth of Fraser's disappearance. Earlier that evening he walked inside his hotel room where his suitcases sat open and half full. Too tired to think, too worried and sad to eat, he turned on the television. He took off his clothes, opting for a T-shirt and cotton gym shorts over his more flamboyant pajamas. He turned the covers down, crawled into bed and closed his eyes. The truth slammed into his mind, jerking his body up with the force. He made himself slow down to think it through. But, he knew, he just knew.

He called the local police station and asked the sergeant on duty to pull out the floor plans for the tenement. Sergeant Lois Evans argued that everyone had already studied the floor plan. He asked her again with more force and told her he would be there in fifteen minutes. She argued again. He had been working nearly non-stop since Fraser disappeared. He should rest.

"Fifteen minutes, Sergeant." He repeated, feeling bad about trying to pull rank on her. She had been friendly and helpful since the beginning.

True to his word he arrived fifteen minutes later and Sergeant Evans had the plans lying on her desk. He unrolled the blue prints. Some shuffling and cursing followed until he found the second floor scroll. He looked at the three apartments lining each side of the hall. He looked at the measurements. He pictured the rooms in his mind. Each apartment was supposed to be a mirror image to the room across the hall. Except the last room wasn't. He was certain. The front room to the last apartment was smaller than its counterpart. Not much smaller. A few feet perhaps, but smaller. He stared at the plans for a long time. He wasn't wrong. He called Special Agent Brown.

He now stood in front of the tenement building. He waited impatiently for backup to arrive. He would not fall into the same trap as Benny. He couldn't risk it. For his own life and for his friend's, he had to be right. Brown agreed to send Agents Price and Fisher to meet him. Ray had to fight just to get them. Since they assisted in losing Fraser, Brown finally agreed they should assist in all aspects of finding him. Even if it meant duplicating work that thirty others had done before.

When the two men arrived, they were grumpy. They understood Ray's feelings, even shared part of them, but they had been working almost as steadily as Ray to find the killer and to find Fraser. They wanted time off. They wanted to rest.

As Ray explained his theory, they scoffed. Even if there was a three or four foot difference in the front room, it was not enough space to contain a man. And given the damage to the victims, there was certainly not enough space to abuse someone. Ray didn't care about their opinion. The truth had been revealed to him. Now, he needed help to break down the wall. He tried not to imagine what might exist there.

The three men entered the tenement with weapons drawn. They carried flashlights. Agent Price carried spotlights so they could illuminate the rooms. All three felt the same nervousness. This building was spooky.

They tapped on the walls of the smaller room. Ray drove a hammer against the paneling. As the agents looked on, they had to admit he was right about the size of the room. He pounded again and again until all were surprised when the hammer flew from his hand and through the false wall. A moment of frozen surprise led to a scurry of activity while they tore the wall down. About four feet from the area that Ray lost his hammer, they found a sealed section. The top and sides were plaster with the exception of four small holes drilled through the lid. They went back into the main room. Agent Fisher started to use the hammer to drill into the enclosure but Ray stopped him. He reminded him of the flight his hammer took a few moments before. Ray tapped on the wall outside the enclosure. It was hollow. He reached his fingers against the top of the panel and pulled. A small creaking noise followed, the sound of a hinge as the door swung open. The interior was dark at first. Then Agent Price shown his flashlight over Ray's shoulder. A terrible wail shrieked from inside the box. Ray reached inside, wanting to bring his friend out to safety but Ben continued shrieking, pulling himself back inside the closet. It took both agents and the detective to get him out. What came from the box, was a wet, battered shell. He whimpered softly as Ray pulled him into his arms.

Ray ordered Price to turn off the spotlights. He lifted the hood from Benny's head, then slowly he removed the silver duct tape covering his eyes. Fraser gasped at the sudden pain of the tape being torn off. Ray held him while Fisher unwound the wire from his wrists and ankles. Fraser jerked in his arms but he no longer made any sound. Price radioed for an ambulance and for back up.

Ray could feel the dampness of his body. He was dressed in cheap gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt. Both items still carried the tags of the store that sold them.

The trip to the hospital revealed more than Ray wanted to know. Benny was a mass of welts, cuts and bruises. He remained awake but unfocused. Ray couldn't make eye contact with him. He made no attempt to speak. Ray wondered if he was unconscious with his eyes open but Benny tapped his thumb rhythmically against the gurney.

Upon reaching the hospital, they were separated. Ray phoned his lieutenant and then he phoned Inspector Thatcher. He called his home. He saved Kowalski for last.

A sleepy voice answered, barking his name into the receiver.

"Kowalski, its Vecchio."

"What, is there news?" The man went from waking to alert in a heartbeat.

"We found him. He's hurt but he's alive."

"How serious?"

"I don't know, I'm waiting for the doctor now."

"Yea, okay, but how bad is it?"

"I really don't know. Lots of cuts and bruises. He looks like hell and he's in shock, I think. I don't know how serious it is."

"Damn, I wish I could be there."

"Well, you can't." Ray sounded harsher than he intended. "I mean you're working on something important." He tried to soften his tone but Kowalski was irritated.

"Yea, right. Look, just take care of 'im all right. Tell 'im I'd be there if I could. Will ya do that?"

"I will do that."

"And you'll let me know how he's doin'? Don't hide nothin' from me and don't forget about me."

"I'll call you when I know something."

"Don't forget about me, Vecchio. You know I'd be on the next plane if I could."

"I won't forget about you, Stanley." Using Kowalski's first name slipped out accidentally. Ray was so used to calling him that when he wasn't around, he forgot to keep it to himself. No one called Ray Kowalski by his first name; he hated his first name.

"Yea, thanks a lot, Vecchio." Kowalski slammed the receiver in Ray's ear. Ray cursed himself. He really had been trying to do the right thing.

"Detective Vecchio?" The doctor asked as he sat down on the table across from him. Ray folded his phone and put it in his pocket as he read the nametag on the white coat: Doctor Wilson Cambridge. "You listed yourself as next of kin to Constable Fraser, is that correct?"

"Yea. He doesn't have any living relatives. I'm his 'in case of emergency'."

"Well, Constable Fraser has been through a very serious ordeal. There are no broken bones, no sign of concussion, no internal injuries. He is malnourished and seriously dehydrated. We're treating that intravenously. But, he has numerous cuts, bruises and abrasions covering about 80% of his body. He was beaten severely. He'll likely add to the scar collection I noticed during the examination but as long as we keep the wounds clean and disinfected, I don't expect any long-term physical effects. The main thing we're watching is his heart and his other internal functions. Going so long without water or food combined with the physical toll, well it's good you found him when you did." The doctor hesitated.

"But, he'll be all right?" Ray asked.

"Yes. We'll monitor him very carefully for the next forty-eight hours but I'm not expecting any set backs." The doctor hesitated again. He leaned forward slightly as if sharing a secret. "I am concerned about his mental state. Constable Fraser is unresponsive verbally and physically. This could be exhaustion or shock, both of which we can treat. He could very well wake up tomorrow, be happy he's alive and go about re-starting his life. I would expect some initial fears and an adjustment period to fully grasp what's happened to him but it's possible he may be able to accept all of it in the course of his physical healing."

"Or" Ray prodded.

"As I said, this was a serious ordeal. Extremely frightening. Extremely violent. In all likelihood, he was probably beginning to accept the proximity of his own death. Now comes a change. He has to live. He has to accept the horror of the experience into his day to day life."

"Benny'll bounce back. He's been in bad situations before. He'll bounce back." The doctor nodded at Ray's confidence.

"Well, some medical professionals believe the best course here is to immediately introduce counseling, use drugs for stress and depression, the whole psych spectrum. What I'd like to do is wait. Give the Constable time to adjust and see how he is in the morning."

"Is that safe? We are talking about his mind here, right?"

"He's physically safe at the moment. I don't believe his mental state will deteriorate in the next eight hours. I'd like to give him a chance to bring himself around."

Inside Fraser's room Ray saw a stranger. A man with Benny's face except his complexion was gray. A man covered in random bandages. A man with tubes running into and out of his body.

Ray walked forward slowly trying not to concentrate on the beeping, buzzing, groaning machines. He slumped weakly into the chair beside the bed. Benny still stared vacantly at the ceiling.

"You're gonna be all right." Ray whispered. He leaned forward clenching his fists. Then leaned back and sighed. "You're gonna be all right." He repeated.

Ben closed his eyes awhile later. Ray watched his breathing change. His body relaxed. Ray sat back in his chair and smiled at a nurse who came to change the IV bag. He remembered nothing after that until a soft voice woke him.

"Ray." Ben said, surprised by the weak noise coming from him. He couldn't move without pain. He couldn't be motionless without pain. It felt as if his body was one open sore. Everything hurt from breathing to speaking to tapping the sheet with his thumb. "Ray."

Vecchio sat up rubbing his eyes. Seeing Benny awake was good. Seeing him in the full light of morning with nothing to hide the terrible wounds was bad. Ray steadied himself as he stood, focusing on his friend's face that for some reason remained untouched.

"Hey, you're awake."

"You found me." He rasped.

"Yea, I did. I'm sorry I didn't find you sooner, Benny."

"It's okay." No, it's not, Ray thought. It's a lot of things but never okay.

"I won't ask how you're feeling but I'm glad to see you're awake. Thatcher'll be relieved too, and the family." Ben couldn't manage a smile but he felt it. He couldn't quite manage a nod either. "I talked to Kowalski too. He wants to be here but he's working. It's probably better considering how well we get along." Ben felt another smile. "All right, I'm gonna get the doctor so he can see that you're awake and check you out. I'll be right back."

Ben watched him leave. A small, strangled cry burst from his lips before he could stop it. But, the door swung shut. Ray never heard. Ben rubbed his thumb faster against the sheet.

The doctor returned alone. He was tall and wide with squared shoulders that did not seem to belong inside a white coat. Ben guessed his age to be around 35. He had blond hair and green eyes. He smelled like disinfectant. The smell was overpowering. Ben lurched forward, crying out with pain as he did. He heaved producing nothing since there was nothing in his stomach to give. The doctor held him carefully, one firm hand against his chest, the other against his back. As Ben lay back, he patted him softly on the head as if he were a child. Ben breathed heavily, forcing himself to relax. He still felt nauseous. The smell of disinfectant soap floated off the doctor like a fog but the tension in his body only aggravated the injured skin and muscles.

"Sorry." Ben said, embarrassed, while the doctor shined a small penlight in his eyes.

"No need. Afterall, this is a hospital. You're suppose to get sick here."

"Ray?" Ben asked.

"Detective Vecchio is in the hall fending off the vultures." Ben looked at him quizzically. "The FBI is here and wants to speak with you." Cambridge explained as he timed his pulse.

"It's their job."

"I'm going to hold them off a bit longer, Constable. I don't think you're strong enough to talk to them."

Ben nodded or at least made an attempt at nodding. He knew he needed to tell the investigators what happened. Perhaps some piece of information from him could lead to an arrest. But, he also knew he never saw his abductors. He felt them. He smelled them. They would take his statement and walk away feeling he was useless as a witness. They would wonder how a police officer could allow himself to be caught the way he had and then still be useless to them. He was glad to have more time.

The rest of the examination was torture. The doctor checked his more serious wounds carefully but the broken welts screamed at the touch of air. When they were finished, Ben was sweating with his breath coming in small gasps.

"You did just fine." The doctor soothed. "Try to stay awake for a few more minutes until the nurse comes to take blood. But, after that, sleep as much as possible. The pain medication should make that easy, all right?"

Cambridge met Ray in the hall. Ray was leaning against the wall beside the door. He stared after Special Agent Brown who stood at the nurse's station requesting a status on Constable Fraser. Cambridge stopped long enough to tell Ray that Ben was doing as well as he expected. Then he excused himself to deal with the FBI agent. Looking in the other direction, Ray saw Agents Price and Fisher loitering in the waiting area. They were clearly uncomfortable with Brown's aggressiveness. Ray just shook his head as he went into Ben's room.

"You all right, Benny? You look flushed."

"Hurts."

"Yea, I know, I'm sorry about that. They're giving you something for pain but I can talk to the doctor and see if there's anything stronger. Does your throat hurt?"

"Yes."

"You haven't strung more than two words together since you woke up. Is that because of your throat or something else?"

"Throat. Tired."

"You're gonna be all right. Cambridge seems like a good doctor so there's no need to worry. Why don't you try to sleep for awhile? I'll be here when you wake up."

Ben did not have the strength to explain that he was waiting for a nurse to come in. Every word seemed to be forced through a vacuum to escape. He closed his eyes, just to rest a moment, he thought, then slipped off to sleep. True to his doctor's word, a nurse came in a moment later and had to wake him.

Ray stayed close but he was perilously near collapse. The last week brought him almost no sleep. His mother nagged him because she said she could hear in his voice that he had stopped eating. She was right. But, even with Benny safe, he couldn't stop to care for himself. He needed to be at the hospital. He needed to support his friend and protect him. Agent Brown reminded him that Ben could be a target for the killer. As far as they knew, he was the only one to survive this nut's rampage. So, he had to stay at the hospital. He would drink coffee, he would pace in the hall, he would sleep in that awful chair but he would not leave his friend.

Ben held his breath while the large woman turned his arm and inserted the needle. He didn't like being pushed around even if she was gentle. And with the multitude of wounds, there was no comfortable place to settle. He rubbed at the sheet absently with his thumb before the sedative took hold and he finally went back to sleep.

Vecchio and Dr. Cambridge prevented Agent Brown from questioning Ben for two days. But by the third day, the Constable was showing real improvement. They knew he needed to give a statement. He knew his duty meant re-living the details. He told Ray he was ready and Ray cleared it with the doctor.

Agent Brown, accompanied by Agent Fisher, met in Ben's room. Brown wanted Ray to wait outside but he refused. The agent did not bother to argue for long. Cambridge asked to remain to watch the Constable's physical and emotional reactions. Fraser would have preferred to talk to Ray and one agent but he understood the necessity of the group.

"All right, Constable, take your time and just tell us what happened. Be as detailed as you can. Tell us if you need a break and we'll try to interrupt as little as possible. With your permission, I'm going to tape this session." Brown said as he pressed the record button on his tape recorder.

Ray didn't like his casual manner or the way he sounded bored as he delivered his speech. He knew how difficult this would be for Benny and it seemed like Brown was showing no respect. If Fraser noticed, he didn't show it.

"I went into the tenement building with Detective Vecchio and Agents Price and Fisher. We searched the first floor but there was nothing readily apparent to indicate the killer was in the building. We heard something move on the second floor. I don't remember the sound, but I know we all believed someone must be up there. I went up the stairs first." Ben sipped at a water glass sitting on the table beside him. He shifted slightly to ease the pain along one side of his body. He only succeeded in shifting the pain to a new place.

"Pardon me," he said.

"That's all right, Fraser, take your time." Price said.

"Upon reaching the second floor, I saw movement in the last apartment. I proceeded without backup to the room. When I entered the apartment, I heard Detective Vecchio fall on the stairs. When I turned I was blindsided. I must have lost consciousness immediately because I have no further memory until I woke inside a very small closet." His voice was becoming breathless. He drank more water and glanced at Ray. Ray nodded at him with an encouraging smile. Ben nodded back.

"I was bound with my hands behind me, wire, I think. I was kneeling and had no headroom so I knew the ceiling was very low. My ankles were bound as well and were connected somehow to my hands. My eyes were covered by tape and by a cloth hood of some sort. I don't know how much time passed before I was taken out of the closet but I was taken to the wash room and allowed to relieve myself. I remember talking almost continually during these trips. I was trying to get some communication in return but there was none. Afterward I was returned to the closet and my legs were re-tied. This pattern repeated several times. While I had very little grasp on the passage of time, I believe three days passed in this fashion. It wasn't until the sixth or seventh trip out of the closet when I was taken to another room. The floor was cement and footsteps echoed in it." He hesitated. Ray put a hand on his shoulder. He drank more water but set the glass down as he realized his hands were shaking. He cleared his throat and rubbed a nervous thumb over his forehead.

"I must confess...I was a bit weaker then, having no food or water in several days and being cooped up inside the closet. I wasn't thinking clearly or I may have anticipated...but as it was...my arms were secured above my head and...I was beaten rather severely for...a long time...before going back inside the closet. I believe it was a belt. It was certainly leather and thick and looped over itself. I could hear the air swish through it. At any rate, the wash room pattern was replaced by this practice. I lost track of the number of times I went to the cement room but I know it was more than three because I remember thinking I would not survive if I went back a third time." He shuddered inwardly. Then stiffened as he sat up straighter. He looked at his audience. They were waiting. He vigorously rubbed the sheet beside him. "But, obviously, I did."

"What can you tell us about your abductor?" Brown asked.

"Abductors, Sir. There were two men."

"How do you know? I thought you said you were blindfolded."

"I was, but, there were two. One man had very large hands. He was able to grip my biceps and touch tip to tip with his own fingers. His footsteps were heavy. He smelled like cologne. A common type. I've smelled it many times. The second man was smaller. I can't judge the size of his hands but he sounded lighter than the other. He smelled like soap. Some sort of industrial, anti-bacterial soap. I don't mean to suggest he was a small man. He wasn't, just smaller than the other. They never spoke to me or in my presence so I can't judge their accents. The walk to the rest room and the cement room was long and it felt like a narrow passage. Perhaps a hallway. And it was slanted downward."

"It was a false wall, Benny. About three feet wide. We followed it all the way to the cellar. They just built into the original structure and created a series of halls through the building."

"Were there any ... others?"

"No. No bodies. No other victims." Ben flinched at the word. He was a police officer, a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, how had he become a victim? Ray noticed his reaction but did not want to point it out to the others.

"Can you tell us anything else, Constable?" Brown asked.

"Nothing that would be helpful, Sir."

"All right, then, I just have a few questions for you and we'll be done."

The question and answer session lasted nearly an hour. The questions Brown posed were personal and difficult to answer. Ray knew he was trying to get a better sense of the victimology involved but it was hard to watch Benny answer. He clearly did not expect to have his own experience analyzed in depth. He expected, and so did Ray, that the questioning would have more to do with observations and less to do with his personal hell.

"You were bathed before we found you, what do you remember about that?"

"I know I was taken back to the cement room and I suppose they must have taken my clothes though I don't remember that part. I was suspended by my wrists from the ceiling. I believe they used a hose, probably a garden hose because the water pressure was not severe. One of them washed and the other rinsed. They seemed particularly concerned with the material of my clothes being caught in the wounds....They spent a good deal of time picking out the particles. I'm not sure if they used tweezers or some other implement." Ray swallowed hard. He looked away, hoping Fraser would not see how stunned he was.

"I must have lost consciousness at some point because I don't remember anything after that until I was back in the closet. Then there was just darkness again until the door opened and instead of the...others, it was Ray leaning inside."

As Benny grew paler from the effort, Ray expected Dr. Cambridge to stop the interrogation. But, the man just stood there observing like someone slowing to see a car accident.

"Was there any sexual contact?" Brown asked. Ray almost choked. He never considered that. There was no sign of sexual assault on any of the victims. Ben turned four shades of purple before he answered.

"No, nothing of that nature." He answered.

"You're sure?"

"Yes, Sir."

Finally, Ray stepped in.

"That's it," he said, "you have his statement. Do your psycho mumbo jumbo on someone else. I'm sure the doctor agrees he's done enough for one day." Cambridge agreed quickly, seeming surprised to give his opinion. Brown held up his hand,

"Just one more thing, Constable, while you were begging for your life in the concrete room, did it have any effect on your abductors?"

"What the hell kind of question is that?" Ray spat furiously.

"You know what I'm looking for, Detective. We need to understand the psychology of the people involved."

"It's all right, Ray." Ben said softly. He met Brown's eyes with his own. "I never said that I..."

"I mean, did they step up the violence, tone it down, any effect?"

"I didn't beg." Ben said simply, rubbing his head.

"Constable, no one is questioning your right to respond to the..."

"I realized," Ben interrupted, pointedly, "that part of their purpose was to force the, uh, victim to beg for their life, hand over their life to their power. I decided not to. I talked to myself instead."

"You what?" Price asked. Vecchio shot a glare in his direction.

"I talked to myself. About nothing, everything, I suppose. Stories, lyrics, poetry, quotes from books I've read, anything I could focus on." Ben's pale eyes seemed to cloud over. He bowed his head towards his chest, still fingering the sheet absently.

"All right, gentlemen, let's give the Constable some time to rest." Cambridge said. The agents closed their notebooks and filed out. Ray settled into his home away from home, the chair beside Benny's bed. Cambridge considered ordering him out as well but thought better of it.

A couple of days later, Ben sat quietly in a chair, staring out the window of his hospital room. Still sore but no longer experiencing any intense pain, he watched vehicles and people moving around like toys in the parking lot below. He felt anxious watching them. He half expected something bad to happen down there. People tended to be innocently going about their lives when bad things happen.

Ray left the day before to go back to the hotel and sleep. It took some convincing from Cambridge but even Ray realized he needed to take care of himself.

Ben knew he needed it also. But, selfishly, he regretted watching him go. He hated these empty spaces of time when all he had was himself and this hospital room. Fear seemed to snake around him like gathering fog. As much as he refused to recognize it, he couldn't help the clenching of his muscles or the dull headache that always followed. He reminded himself he was not helpless, he was not without resources. Like a chant, he let the words take over his mind until he felt himself relaxing a bit.

Dr. Cambridge examined him earlier in the morning. As usual, every touch from the doctor's cold hands left him gasping. The welts along his body were still swollen and tender. He knew he should be grateful for the doctor's care but he was actually adopting a severe hatred of the man. He smelled like that awful soap. He insisted on examining him much too thoroughly. And he seemed to threaten him. Well, not exactly threaten because Ben did not believe he would actually do the things he said. And he always said it with a smile as if his words were some kind of joke. Ben realized he was probably being sensitive but he didn't like being reminded that he was under the direction of Cambridge and the hospital.

The phone rang beside the bed. He lurched forward, startled, then stood to reach the receiver.

"Constable Fraser speaking." He said.

"Hey, Fraser, I hear you're almost up and around." Ben smiled. He could see the slender, blond detective in his mind.

"Ray, it's good of you to call."

"Yea, well, I woulduh called sooner but I been working 'twenty four seven' an' I didn't wanna call too late."

"I'm happy to hear from you. Ray, the other Ray, said you've been checking in."

"You know I'd be there if I could, don't ya, Frase? You're my best friend, I'd be there if I could."

"It's all right, Ray. I know you would. But, you have a job to do. I'm being well cared for here.

"Oh, crap, they're callin' me again. Listen, Fraser, take care uh yourself. You oughta get outta there and come home. I checked on the wolf yesterday and you know, the Vecchios are takin' care of 'im, but he misses you."

"I know. I miss him too. Thank you for calling, Ray." He hung up, thoughtfully. His half-wolf, Diefenbaker, did not make this trip with him and he missed having him nearby. Fiercely protective, Dief was his constant companion and he did not feel complete without him. He missed Ray Kowalski also.

When the phone rang again, he thought Ray had called back but silence greeted him from the other end. "Hello?" He frowned and started to hang up when his acute hearing recognized the sound of soft breathing. He gripped the receiver tighter. "Hello." He said again, more forcefully.

"You left early." A garbled, filtered voice said. Then the breathing became louder. A moment later the line went silent. Fraser set the receiver down slowly. He stared at it for a long time. His hand found the edge of his navy sweats and rubbed the material at his side. His legs seemed to melt from beneath him.

Ray Vecchio arrived back at the hospital after a 24 hour break. He changed his clothes. He showered a couple of times. He ate ravenously. And he slept. He slept for more than eighteen hours. He arrived at the hospital after a short visit to the local precinct to check on the progress in Benny's case. There was none. He rode to the eighth floor carrying a box of snacks he put together. Cambridge said Fraser was not eating as much as he should.

Ray glanced down the hall as he walked and spotted two of the nurses standing outside Fraser's room. One was talking, clearly excited judging from the animation of her hand gestures. Ray hurried. He stopped in front of them to see if this had to do with Benny, then heard yelling from inside his friend's room. One of the nurses put a hand on his arm as he started past her. He brushed her off.

Inside the room, Dr. Cambridge was injecting something into Fraser's arm. Two male orderlies were holding Ben down by his shoulders. Fraser was fighting for all his weakened body could fight.

"What the hell?" Ray said, coming forward and dropping the box on the floor. He shoved one of the orderlies back. The man glared at him.

"Detective Vecchio, this is..."

"What the hell is this?" He said pointing out the bedside restraints on Benny's arms. Fraser had stopped struggling. Whatever Cambridge injected in him seemed to be taking effect. With glazed eyes, he reached towards Ray with his fingers. Ray took his hand. "What is going on?" He was getting frustrated that no one was answering. Cambridge stepped back and waved the orderlies out of the room.

"Constable Fraser had become agitated. He was thrashing around quite violently and inadvertently struck a nurse. Now, I realize this was an accident but he has to be restrained until he calms down."

"He looks pretty calm now. Wha'd ya give 'im?"

"A fairly strong sedative. I think it best if he sleeps for awhile."

"Then he doesn't need to be tied down, right?"

"I'm afraid in his current state, I would prefer not to take any chances."

Ray squeezed Ben's hand as he closed his eyes. He looked at the doctor in frustration. He let go of his friend and motioned for Cambridge to follow him into the hall.

"What upset him? He was fine yesterday."

"I honestly don't know, Detective. He's been a model patient. One of the nurses went to check on him and he was sitting on the floor. She said he seemed dazed and she was concerned he had fallen out of bed or something. When she touched him, he became very upset. She rang for assistance but before we arrived he had shoved her. She hit her head on the bed's guard rail."

"He would never hurt a woman on purpose. It's not in him."

"I don't think he did it on purpose. But, he still did it." The doctor hesitated. He cleared his throat softly before continuing. "I understand how difficult it is for family and friends to see their loved ones restrained. It seems cruel and frightening, but believe me, Detective, he's not being hurt. We are trying to protect him."

Ray rubbed a hand through his thinning black hair. He studied the doctor's face. His green eyes focusing on the details. The man looked back at him, utterly serious and professional.

"All right, I'll stay with him. You still planning to release him tomorrow?"

"I can't make that determination until I see his mental state in the morning. He is perfectly safe, Detective. You don't have to spend another night."

"It's only one more night. And look what happened the last time I left."

Ray settled back into his chair. He brought a book with him to read though he did not initially plan to sleep there. When Inspector Thatcher arrived, he was surprised to see her. She didn't tell him she was flying in. Dressed in blue jeans and a long sleeved peach colored blouse he almost didn't recognize her. The blouse wasn't even tucked in. And were those blue and white sneakers on her feet? Her dark hair was pulled back to a ponytail in a peach wrap.

Thatcher was equally surprised to see Vecchio wearing jeans. Although the red and black striped silk shirt and the polished black shoes looked like him. He stood up to give her a moment with Fraser. He asked her to meet him outside. She only glanced at the Constable, slightly fearful of his appearance. But in the dim light, she could scarcely see his injuries. Instead she was relieved. She half-expected to see the Frankenstein monster lying there. She followed Vecchio into the hall.

"I wasn't expecting you." He said.

"Is there something wrong, Detective? Other than the obvious, of course."

"Nothing really, I just wanted to warn you. Benny freaked out earlier. They had to sedate him and they, uh, put him in wrist restraints."

"Restraints, that hardly seems necessary."

"That's what I said but his doctor insisted that he might hurt himself if he gets going again."

"Well, what caused him to..."

"They don't know and he's been asleep so I haven't been able to ask him."

"I don't like this, Detective. Constable Fraser was held against his will for a week. They shouldn't be restraining him again."

"I know. I agree. But, if his doctor thinks it's necessary, I don't want to make things worse. I mean he's tense, ya know? He's jumpy. But, I haven't seen nightmares or anything. He's seems like himself. A little quiet maybe but he could just be tired." Thatcher touched his arm gently. Ray looked at her, the surprise evident in his green eyes.

"Detective, I realize you are on firmer personal ground with Constable Fraser than I am. And I am in no way questioning that you know him much better than I do. But, he is a very closed individual in the aspect of his feelings."

"Yea, I know, what're you getting' at?"

"I would hate to think he is bottling up this experience. I believe that could be very damaging to him."

Ray considered this. In fact, he thought of it on his own a couple of days before. He wanted to talk to Fraser about it but he wasn't sure how to approach the subject. Reaching behind Benny's defenses was like walking through a minefield.

"Has he talked to any sort of counselor?" Meg asked.

"No, they don't have anyone on staff. They'd have to order someone in from another hospital. And, you know Benny, he's not gonna open up to a stranger."

"Perhaps not, Detective. But, someone should try." She raised her eyebrows at him to emphasize the point, then walked around him to return to Fraser's room.

Ray walked down to the cafeteria. He wanted to give her some time alone with him. He realized he had never had a civilized conversation with Thatcher before this. They did not like each other. Benny would say they did not admire each other's strengths. Coming together for the common good, he supposed.

A half-hour later, Ray returned to the room. Thatcher was sitting beside the bed holding Fraser's hand. She had released one of his wrists and was speaking to him in soothing tones. When she saw Ray, she stood. She brushed a black curl from Fraser's warm forehead. With only a nod to the detective, she left.

The night moved along quietly. Ray read his book until sleep beckoned. Then he laid his head back and closed his eyes. A few hours later, Ben stirred softly. He mumbled in his sleep before waking finally took over. He reached his free hand up to rub his eyes. He noticed his left hand was not working but he couldn't decide why. Glancing into Ray's chair, he found the detective sleeping soundly if not comfortably. The fact that his hand was not working bothered him. Through the fog of the sedative he just could not decide why he couldn't pull it close to him. He wondered about the time and why he felt hungry. He remembered sitting by the window. He remembered watching the activity on the ground. And then, something happened. It took a moment for the memory to catch him. Of course, the phone call. The breathing that came through the line like a truck barreling towards him. He felt the sweat break out along his neck and shoulders. He gasped and held his breath, willing himself not to panic. Ray snored softly but the sound could have been the shot from a gun. Ben yelled out yanking at his useless arm.

Ray jumped up, stumbling backward from not being quite awake. He forced himself to focus, willing the sleep to dissipate. Even in the bare light from the hospital window, Ray could see the terror on Ben's face.

"It's all right." He said, "I'm right here. It's all right." It took a few moments for his words to penetrate. Ben tugged anxiously at his arm.

"It won't come loose." He said, pulling.

"It's okay, I'll get you loose."

"Please, Ray." Vecchio was already moving around the bed. He unstrapped the restraint quickly but held the arm still until he was sure Ben had calmed.

"All right, is that better?"

"Yes, thank you kindly." Ray sighed. "Why was that thing on me?"

"Maybe we should talk about that in the morning." Ray answered, rubbing his eyes.

"I would like to know." Ben said, more anxiously than he wanted to sound.

"Look, you should sleep. You look like hell. You're probably still drugged."

"I don't want to sleep, Ray. Why did they do that to me?"

Ben pushed himself into a sitting position. He groaned softly with the effort and Ray wanted to convince him to go back to sleep. But, the look on his face was determined. He knew Benny well enough to know that trying to dissuade him was useless. Ray walked to the end of the bed and put his hands on the metal rail. He watched his friend's face as he explained, waiting for his reaction.

"You got upset earlier. They found you on the floor. They were afraid you might hurt yourself." No reaction. Perhaps his eyes clouded slightly but then Ray could just be imagining that.

"Why just the one hand then?"

"Well Thatcher stopped by right after you went to sleep. She undid the one side but I guess she figured she better leave the other one set."

"Inspector Thatcher was here? She's in town?"

"For a couple days. She's been concerned. Probably wondering who will take guard duty next week." Ray kidded but Ben only nodded more to himself than his friend. He rubbed a hand through his hair with a sigh.

"I don't remember losing control."

"Yea, well, you've been through a lot. You probably just had a bad dream or something."

"No, I..." He stopped, fear tingling through his stomach.

"What is it, Benny?"

"I've remembered something else about my...abductors. At least one of them." Ben closed his eyes as he continued, "He had a difficult time breathing. I mean, uh, he breathed very hard when he...exerted himself. Perhaps he has asthma or some type of lung disease. Perhaps he was allergic to something in the...cement room. I don't know, but, I don't believe he was out of shape. He seemed very strong and when he carried me, I didn't feel a lot of weight around him. Muscle and bone, but nothing soft." Ben's voice had softened. He seemed to be talking to himself.

"He carried you?" Ben sat up straighter, opening his eyes.

"Well, Ray, I wasn't exactly walking after..."

"No, I guess, I...I don't know what, Benny, I just wish you'd tell me..."

"Tell you what?"

"Never mind. I shouldn't push you. What made you remember about the breathing?"

"If you've something to say, Ray, you should say it."

"Just tell me what happened to make you think about the breathing."

"A phone call."

"What?" Ray asked, coming around the bed in full police mode.

"I can't be certain it was...because I never heard either voice...and the person on the phone was using some sort of electronics to distort the sound, but, the sound of his breathing was very close to my memory of it."

"What did he say?" Ben sighed and closed his eyes. He felt tired all of a sudden. His neck and shoulders throbbed. His thumb ached absently from the constant rubbing against the sheet. His head was starting to hurt again. "What did he say?" Ray repeated.

"He said I left early. Actually, his words were 'you left early' but you understand my meaning."

"All right, look, I'm gonna get you a 24 hour guard in the morning. If you're released, I'll get you on a plane out of here. Otherwise I'll post him outside the door."

Ray reached into his pocket for his cell phone. As he dialed, he glanced at his friend. Ben had leaned back with his eyes closed. Ray realized he did not argue about the guard. He did not tell him he could take care of himself. And while Ray knew the guard was necessary and would have posted him regardless of argument, it bothered him that no argument was given. He spent five minutes speaking with Sergeant Evans. She spoke to her Captain and the guard was arranged for seven the next morning.

Ben shifted uneasily. He hated feeling so weak. He would have hated waking up helplessly tied to his bed even more. Panic had almost overwhelmed him when he couldn't release the one restraint. He forced that back inside himself. He needed to maintain control.

Ray put the phone back in his pocket. He pulled his chair closer to the bed and sat down.

"Benny, I know I said I shouldn't push you and all, but we need to talk."

"Regarding what?"

"I'm worried about you."

"Why, Ray? By all accounts, I'm healing nicely. As you said, I'll likely be released tomorrow. In fact, my injuries were not particularly life threatening once you found me."

"That's what I'm worried about."

"Pardon me?"

"Not what you said. The way you said it. You sound like you're talking about someone else. You're so detached from what happened, it's almost like you don't realize it happened to you."

"I assure you, I am fully aware of all events."

"Okay, in your head, maybe. But, what about the rest of it? A lot of people would be in a loony bin after something like this. But, you, you act like this kind of thing is a daily occurrence. Except..."

"Just because I am not a withering mass, Ray, does not mean I am unaware."

"Let me finish, except I can see how tense you are. You've got that ramrod posture. Your face is so tight, I could bounce a quarter off it. You keep rubbing that sheet like that and you're gonna wear a hole in it. You're keeping everything in. You're doing that 'I don't feel anything' routine except in this case..."

"Ray, I've been in dire situations before. I appreciate your concern, but..."

"No, not like this. You were locked in a box for days. You were beaten senseless. Blindfolded, tied up, you can't tell me this is the same as..."

"I've been beaten before, Ray."

"Are you honestly telling me that this is the same? Benny, you were taken to the bathroom on whims. That is a serious loss of control, don't you think?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to tell me everything. I want you to get it out in the open. I want you to stop acting like it didn't matter."

"I have told you everything." His voice was tight. Ray heard the change.

"No, you haven't. You told me the events. Not what you were thinking. I don't want to turn this into a group hug fest, Benny, but you haven't said what it felt like."

"How do you think it felt, Ray?" A slightly higher pitch in his tone.

"I don't know. I wasn't there."

"That's a very good point. Perhaps if you had been there or arrived sooner, you wouldn't have the need of this interrogation." Ray felt the breath leave his body. He stood frozen for a moment. The accusation hung between them. Ben refused to back down, just stared at him with those eyes, all gray and harsh.

"Okay," Ray said, "I asked." He walked out of the room.

Vecchio leaned against the wall outside Fraser's room. His temper flaring, his nerves sizzling. He walked halfway down the hall, turned around and walked back. A couple of evening nurses watched him as he paced, muttering to himself. He stopped in front of Benny's door and took a breath. Then he pushed it open.

Fraser looked up when the door opened. He had been staring at his hands. He felt a rush of cold air run through him, then relief. He was ashamed that the relief stemmed from not being alone more than from Ray's loyalty to him.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Ray said.

"I'm sorry, Ray."

"I know you're frustrated but trying to throw a guilt trip on me? Tell me how that works, Benny."

"You're right. I'm sorry. I was wrong."

"Yes, you were. All I want, all I've wanted from the start, is try to help you. What do you think I was doing while you were gone? I didn't go to the Bahamas, Benny. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat. All I did was look for you."

"I know, Ray. I do appreciate it. I owe you my life and I know it."

"Then what was that just now because it sure sounded like blame to me?"

Ben wanted to answer. He wanted to tell him. But, tell him what? How could he admit to Ray what he couldn't admit to himself?

Fear is a weed. It grows in unlimited abundance it it's ignored. And Ben was frightened. Deep to his core he felt the fear growing with every passing moment. The more he beat it back from his conscious, the stronger it returned.

Ben could only shake his head in response.

"Just tell me what you're thinking."

"I can't Ray." His voice was shaking now.

"Sure, you can. You've never been at a loss for words in your life." Ray moved slowly closer to the bed.

"I'm tired, Ray. I'm going back to sleep now. Thank you for staying with me."

Fraser closed his eyes too tightly. Ray put his hands in his pockets. He sat back down, frustrated and worried.

In the morning, a local uniformed officer reported in. Ray eyed him from head to toe. Twenty years old at the outside, smooth, clean face, slender and unformed, the kid looked like he was still in puberty. He even had acne along his jaw. The gun on his hip probably weighed more than the officer carrying it. Ray couldn't hide his annoyance.

"I ask for a guard and I get a fugitive from Romper Room." He muttered as he headed to the cafeteria for coffee.

Dr. Cambridge nodded to the young officer as he entered Ben's room. His patient had moved out of bed into a chair near the window. Dark circles rimmed his eyes highlighting the pale skin.

"How do you feel this morning, Constable?"

"Fine, thank you." Came a terse reply. The doctor took his arm, placing his fingers against the steady pulse.

"You seem much calmer than the last time I was here. The nurses tell me you did not sleep through the night though."

"No, I didn't."

"And why is that?"

"I woke up." Cambridge raised his eyes from Ben's wrist. He took a pen light from his pocket and shined it in his eyes in short bursts. He nodded as he put the light back in his pocket. He leaned forward with his stethoscope. Ben jerked back.

"Just listening to your heart, Constable." Ben hesitated, then submitted. "Good, good, everything looks fine." Cambridge said as he stood back. "Now, why don't you tell me what's on your mind?"

"Are you releasing me?"

"I'm not certain yet. After yesterday, I am concerned you may be experiencing some delayed stress. I tend to think another day or so of observation is in order."

"I'd rather not." Ben said.

"Well, I can understand why you'd be anxious to go home but you may find it more comfortable to deal with these matters in the safety of the hospital."

"I have no intentions of dealing with any matters here. I would elect to leave the hospital."

"Is there a problem, Constable? Did something happen with the staff that has you concerned about your care here?" He did not answer. "It was last night? The wrist restraints have you upset, is that it?" Ben looked up, surprised he guessed. "You were very agitated yesterday, I was protecting you from harming yourself or someone else."

"And you did warn me, didn't you?" Ben blurted out the one thought he couldn't shake. "Just yesterday morning, you warned me to remain calm or you'd have me tied down."

"That was a joke, Constable. Albeit, a bad joke considering how things turned out. I apologize if it seemed calculated." Ben looked away. He felt rude and petulant. He felt angry.

"I'll tell you what, Constable, I'll leave it up to you. You may go home, if you wish. But, please keep in mind your outburst yesterday. A young woman was injured by your actions." Ben jerked his head back at Cambridge. Who was injured? "If you lose control again, you could easily harm yourself or someone close to you. You're in a fragile state at the moment and while I believe you can pull yourself together, I also believe some professional observation may help."

"I harmed someone?"

"A young nurse. You shoved her and she banged her head. Nothing serious, mind you. No stitches or concussion, but given your level of anxiety, she was quite lucky."

"I don't remember."

"You were out of your mind, Constable. Out of control."

Fraser leaned back in the chair, guilt flooding him. He remembered nothing after the phone call except a weakness in his legs and the darkness. If he lost control, then why didn't he feel any of the residual panic that must have caused it? Even if he forgot the actual events, he should remember the feelings that lead to it. Of course, he was blindsided by the phone call. The breathy sound over the line sent him spiraling back into the closet. The rough hands dumping him inside, then straightening him back to his knees and binding his legs so he was forced to kneel. The sensation of hot breath against his neck mingling with his own painful gasps. The horrible panic that this time, it might become an airtight enclosure. And almost wishing it would. The fear and revulsion returned like a solid punch to his belly. He squeezed his hands into fists to hide his shaking.

Was he dangerous then? Had this experience turned him into an uncontrollable mass capable of harming an innocent woman who had probably arrived to help him? Would this sudden lack of control happen again? Doctor Cambridge obviously thought so. Cambridge wanted him to stay under observation in this hated room. But, he didn't want to surrender to him, to give into the hospital's power over him. He wanted his sense of control back.

When the doctor ordered blood, they sunk a needle in him without question. The doctor ordered x-rays and people moved him from one place to another without asking him. The doctor ordered restraints and he was tied to his bed. He didn't want to surrender.

But, what if was dangerous?

His thoughts were interrupted when Ray backed into the room carrying two cups of coffee. He smiled at Ben with his best 'everything's okay' smile and handed him a cup. Ben took it but set it on the table beside him since he still felt shaky. When he woke, Ray was not in the room and he assumed he must have left after their argument. Depressed and nervous, he had climbed out of bed and settled near the window wondering how to apologize again so that Ray understood he did not blame him. But, Ray was wearing the same clothes and his eyes were bloodshot. He also walked with a slight bend as if his shoulder was bothering him. Ben knew Ray had stayed the night in the chair beside his bed.

"Morning, Benny. Doctor." Ray said as he sat down on the bed sipping his coffee.

"Good morning, Detective. I'm glad you're here. Constable Fraser needs to make an important decision. Perhaps you could help him with it."

"What's that?"

"Well, I've left it up to him as to whether he should stay another day or two. I've explained that his current mental state should be taken into consideration."

"His mental state looks fine to me. It's a no brainer, let's get outta here." Ben showed a sad smile. He appreciated Ray's confidence but he was afraid he might betray that faith.

"What if I'm not safe?"

"I'll protect you, Benny." Fraser smiled fully now. Ray had misunderstood him but his friendship shined perfectly.

"I mean, what if I'm dangerous?" Ben explained softly.

"What are you talkin' about?" Even as he asked, Ray suddenly understood. Cambridge told him about the nurse.

"I injured a young woman in an apparent blind panic. What if it happens again?"

Ray set his coffee down beside Ben's cup. He crouched in front of him, leaning his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands.

"You are not dangerous. You had a bad moment after an extremely disturbing phone call. That makes you human. You didn't hurt anyone on purpose and it would've been better if you didn't know about it at all." A warning look at the doctor. "But, since you do, put it in context. It was a minor mishap that, as far as I'm concerned, got blown way of proportion." Another look at the doctor.

"I should at least apologize." Fraser said earnestly.

"I'm sorry, Constable, Miss Lewis is not working again until Saturday. You won't see her before you leave."

"You can write her a note, Benny. Now, let's get your stuff together and get out of here." Ray straightened up with a low groan. Sitting in that chair for hours was making him stiff.

Fraser watched him retrieve his coffee and settle back on the bed. He knew, in a sense, that Ray was making decisions for him in the same way Cambridge had tried. But, Ray was not attempting to manipulate him. Ray wanted him out of the hospital because he knew that's what Ben wanted.

"Yes, I think that's right." Ben said, confidently, "I am ready to be released."

The doctor agreed though the hesitation in his voice was evident. He said he wanted to take some additional blood and run a couple of tests just to be safe. He agreed to have Ben released by noon. Ben accepted these conditions. He felt he had to cooperate given the time and effort Cambridge put into his care.

"I'll be back at noon, then." Ray said. "I want to check in with the Feds, see if they got anything from the samples they took at the warehouse. You'll be all right?"

"Yes, Ray."

"There's a cop at the door so you don't have to worry about anything."

"Thank you kindly, Ray."

"You're sure you're all right?" Ben nodded with a small smile and raised eyebrows. "Yea, of course you are. You're a Mountie. I'll see you at noon."

Ray drove through the narrow streets of the small town. Big oak and maple trees lined the sidewalks providing shade for walkers and drivers alike. The air smelled sweet with spring unlike the exhaust filled odor of Chicago. Just a slight chill to the morning reminded him that winter only departed a few weeks before.

He turned into the police station parking lot. He left his car next to a line of three blue and white marked vehicles. He hummed softly to himself feeling good despite the lack of sleep. He was looking forward to going home.

Sergeant Lois Evans met him at the door. They had worked close while Benny was missing and he saw the strain in her eyes.

"What is it?"

"They found another victim, Ray, in an alley outside the Post Time Bar." Ray's breath caught. Evans led him back to the office of Captain James Unwin.

Brown and Price were sitting in chairs on the opposite side of his desk. Unwin was standing while he listened to his phone. Ray slipped in quietly, nodding his thanks at Evans for the warning. She shut the door behind them.

Unwin's office barely held the four of them. His desk nearly filled the small room. The walls and door were solid so nothing could be viewed from the inside out or the other way around. Unwin, himself, filled the room almost as much as his desk. He towered at nearly 6'5. He weighed in at least 250 pounds and all of that was muscle. Mostly bald except for tiny wisps of hair above his ears, he looked like the commercial cartoon of Mr. Clean.

In fact, as Ray looked around the room at his companions, he noticed Brown and Price were also large men. Brown stood several inches taller than Ray. His square shoulders looked more like shelves than body parts. He shook Ray's hand and his hand disappeared inside the agent's grasp. Price was not as tall as Brown. He was about Ray's height but he looked like he worshipped at the gym. His upper arms bulged inside his navy blazer. Ray ignored his sudden feeling of being the "little green sprout" in the midst of giants. His slender frame enclosed in designer clothes made him seem tiny surrounded by these men.

Unwin set the phone down softly. He sank into his chair and took in his visitors.

"My officer said your man, Fisher, just got there. He confirmed the similarity of this victim to the others."

"That's a good break." Brown said off-handedly. When the others looked at him in surprise he added, "It means the killer is still here. And this time, maybe we'll find something to find him."

"Do we know who the victim is?" Price asked, getting back to business.

"Yea. He's a local guy, worked at the glass plant." Unwin answered. "Name is Alex Wheaton. He's 32, ran for exercise, dark hair, blue eyes. Looks like he was beaten to death but we won't know the actual cause until the coroner's done with him."

"Had he been reported missing?" Brown asked.

"No, he and his wife were separated. He was on vacation from the job. Apparently, no one noticed he was gone until they found him this morning."

"Do we know when he was last seen?" Brown asked, sitting forward.

"Not yet. My officer, Officer Kiley, knew this guy. That's how he knew about the vacation. But, he hadn't seen him in a week. Doesn't know if anybody else did either."

"We've had the tenement covered since Fraser was found. The killer must have taken him somewhere else." Price said.

"Well, we thought they had more than one place." Ray added. "No way they could've used the tenement only given the distance they've been travelling and the lack of evidence there. The only blood we found was Fraser's. And the place was washed down pretty thoroughly."

"I've been thinking about that," Price continued, "I don't think the killer used the tenement for his victims before Fraser. I think he stayed there. Maybe he lived there or hid out there. But, I can't see him cleaning up that well between every kill. It's just a theory, of course, but I'll bet he's got another place where he usually does his killing."

"I don't agree." Brown said. "Serial killers are often extremely meticulous. And this one is clearly organized and detail oriented. It wouldn't be that abnormal to clean up all the trace evidence between kills in an effort to either blot out what he did or just protect himself from us. That tenement was a lot of work to put together. I can't see him working that hard just to have a safe place to sleep. Most serial killers have homes and friends and families. They have safety without building it."

"Well, there's a lot of abandoned buildings between here and Chicago." Ray said, "There's no reason he couldn't have built more than one labyrinth to house his victims. I just don't see these killers driving their victims four hundred miles, killing them and then driving them back to dump the bodies. They have to be killing in the cities they are in or at least near to them."

"Wait a minute," Unwin said, holding up his hand, "some of you are saying killer and some of you are saying killers. What are we looking for? One man or a team."

"There are two killers working in tandem." Ray answered confidently.

"I'm sorry, Detective, I don't believe that." Brown said. Before Ray could argue, he continued, "It is very rare to have serial killers work in teams. I'm not saying never, it has happened, but it's rare. And this killer has an absolute victim type that he preys on. He targets only men, in their early to mid thirties with dark hair and blue eyes. While I do believe he takes victims of convenience as opposed to staking them out and choosing them, he is still completely committed to the specific type of individual. Now, normally, when a serial killer targets such a specific victim, it is because of some trauma, either real or imagined and he is repeatedly murdering the original offender. Now, unless we have two killers who are related which is even more unusual than tandem killers, what would propel both to kill the same type of individual?"

"Well, they could just be dominant and submissive. The dominant killer chooses the victim. The submissive one is along for the thrill." Price answered. Ray looked at him appreciatively. He turned back to Brown.

"Take my word for it, if Fraser says there were two, there were two."

"I agree with Vecchio," Price said. "His description was detailed enough that we should proceed on the assumption of two killers."

"And one of them called him." Ray said. Unwin knew this but the federal agents looked surprised. "Yesterday, at the hospital. Fraser said the voice was electronically garbled but he recognized the guy's breathing."

"Why are you just reporting this now, Detective?" Brown asked, clearly angered.

"Because I found out in the middle of the night last night. I've already requested a guard be posted outside his door and the hospital phone records are being pulled."

"Phones don't work in the middle of the night, Detective? Is that what you're telling me?"

"Look, there was nothing you could do that I wasn't already doing. And I'm reporting it now."

"We'll have to re-interview the Constable. I was planning to do that anyway but we'll need to do it right away while the memory is still fresh." Brown and Price stood up, Brown still glaring at Ray. Ray stood as well, glaring back. He hated Feds, they wanted to control everything.

"They're running some last minute tests on him before he's released. I'm suppose to pick him up at noon."

"You're going to be late, Detective. I want you to meet Fisher and go through the crime scene with him. We'll keep Constable Fraser company until you come back."

Now, Ray was a Chicago Police Detective. On an investigation involving the FBI, the Feds had jurisdiction. Ray answered to Brown as long as he was working on this case. They both knew it. Either Ray could obey the order or he could go back to the hotel, pack and return to Chicago with an ugly blot on his record. He grudgingly chose the former.

"Yes, Sir." He said, mock saluting before leaving Unwin's office. Sergeant Evans winked at him as he passed her desk. He winked back.

Fraser walked slowly back into his room. The tests ordered by Cambridge were more intrusive than he expected. He felt a bit sore and tired from the experience. A lovely, young nurse's aide assisted him gently down the hall. He refused to lean on her even lightly, knowing her small body could never support his weight. She settled for keeping a hand under his arm for balance. She chatted mindlessly but he didn't mind. Her fluttery voice barely intruded on his thoughts.

"All right, Mr. Fraser, here we are." She pushed open his door and he followed her through. He was startled by the presence of Agents Brown and Price. The two men stood from their respective places when he entered. His young helper was startled too. Then she shrugged it off and said she would leave him with his visitors. She settled him to sit on the bed before she left.

"How are you feeling, Constable?" Brown asked as he sat in Ray's chair.

"Much better, thank you, Sir."

"We need to talk to you about that phone call yesterday."

"I assumed you would, Sir."

Ben described the call in as much detail as he could. The moment was brief and he knew it was essentially useless. Price moved away from the window. He stood close to Ben, standing over him. Ben shifted uneasily.

"The breather, was he the one who smelled like disinfectant or the one with large hands?"

"Disinfectant." Fraser answered, staring up at him awkwardly.

"How do you know?"

"Because I could only smell the soap when he was close to me. However, I could hear him breathing. I could feel his breath on me."

"So, you felt it. Did you really hear it or are you associating a sound with the feel?"

"No, I felt and heard his breathing."

"Did you smell it?"

"I'm sorry?" Fraser asked, rubbing his thumb across his eyebrow with one hand and grasping the hospital bedding with the other.

"Breath usually has an odor. Like now, you probably know what I had for lunch, right? So, did this guy have bad breath?"

"You had bacon and eggs recently. I would assume that was breakfast, not lunch." Price laughed and moved away. Ben maintained a carefully guarded neutrality on his face. Confusion and anger tugged at his stomach. He glanced at Brown who sat motionless, staring at him with his hands clenched in his lap.

"You're right. Breakfast, not lunch. But, you still haven't answered my question."

"I imagine I could smell his breath but I did not...I don't remember an odor. But, I did hear it and I did feel it and I don't know how this line of questioning is going to help you."

"Everything helps, Constable."

"Ah."

"You didn't mention the breathing thing before, Constable, why is that?" Brown asked, taking the lead now as Price drifted back to the window.

"I didn't remember it before."

"You didn't seem confused the other day. You sat here and talked for over an hour. You remembered a lot of details but not the breathing. Why do you suppose that is?"

"I don't know."

"Were you trying to protect the men who took you?"

"I don't understand."

"You don't understand the question?'

"No, I understand the question. But, why would I protect these men?"

"Maybe you empathize with them. Is that possible, Constable?"

"No, it's not."

"Everybody tells me you're the world's nicest guy. A Canadian. You don't have any sympathy for these guys? For what might have pushed them to murder? You don't understand their need to kill and maybe, just maybe think they have a good reason?"

"No."

"Most serial killers are abused children, that doesn't bother you?"

"I know nothing of what motivates these two men. If they were abused children, then I am sorry for the children that they were. I am not sorry for the murderers they have become."

"Then have you told us everything now, Constable? You're a cop for God's Sake, you should be able to keep all the details straight."

"I believe I've told you everything." Fraser answered, the weight of Brown's words striking into his guilt.

"Yes, I believe he has." The feminine voice surprised the three men. No one heard Inspector Meg Thatcher when she entered the room. She had heard only Brown's taunt about Fraser 'keeping the details straight' but it was enough to infuriate her. She looked at Ben who was sitting with his perfect posture despite his shaking hands and gray complexion. He refused to meet her eyes, looking into his lap instead.

"That's enough of your questions. Constable Fraser is a Canadian citizen and a member of the RCMP. As of this moment, you will go through the Canadian Consulate in Chicago before you speak with him. Do I make myself clear?"

"He was a member of this task force before he let himself get caught." Brown said.

"He was an unofficial observer on your task force. You have no jurisdiction over him. Now, I am telling you to leave or risk an international incident like you have never seen."

Meg Thatcher was a small woman. Dressed in faded blue jeans, navy blouse and navy blazer only added to her petite stature. But, her eyes said everything. Brown and Price exited with a glare.

Meg laid a hand on Fraser's shoulder. Gently, she tugged at him until he submitted to lying down. He was embarrassed by her attention and ashamed that he couldn't stop shaking. He was a police officer who made an incredibly stupid mistake and now he seemed to demand sympathy though he felt certain he didn't deserve it. And here was his superior officer taking care of him. She barely tolerated him most of the time. He sighed, miserably.

"Fraser, you should rest." She said in her command voice.

"Yes, mam. I don't think I can."

"And why is that, Fraser?"

"I'm being released today. Ray will be here."

"Detective Vecchio asked me to pick you up. He was ordered to investigate the latest murder so he won't be able..." Fraser blanched. His breath caught somewhere in his chest. "Oh, you didn't know." Meg said, softly. "I'm sorry, Ben, another man was found this morning behind a small bar."

"I ruined everything." He said quietly.

"What do you mean, Fraser? What do you think you ruined?" He could hear her through the strange rush of noise in his head but nothing would come out as an answer. Instead, he slipped into a strange twilight that eventually turned black.

Meg pressed the call button beside Fraser's bed. A few moments later a nurse arrived. The nurse called for Dr. Cambridge.

"He asked to be informed of any change in Mr. Fraser's condition." The nurse explained. Meg nodded numbly as she placed the palm of her hand against his cheek.

"He seems feverish." She said.

"The doctor will look into that." The nurse said.

Cambridge arrived a few minutes later. He asked Meg to wait outside while he performed a quick examination of this patient. She waited with her arms folded across her chest and leaning against the wall beside Ben's room. The officer guarding the room had her name on a list of visitors and he asked for identification before he permitted her in the room. Meg barely acknowledged him while she waited for Cambridge. It was not a long wait.

"Constable Fraser fainted." He said, bluntly.

"I gathered that. But, why did he faint? Why is he running a temperature? He was suppose to be released today." She was frustrated and it showed in her voice. Cambridge met her tone.

"I think that's something you should tell me. What happened before he lost consciousness?"

"Well, two FBI agents interviewed him. And then, I told him about the newest murder. I assumed he knew." She added defensively. Cambridge sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"That was ill advised. Constable Fraser was nearly killed just a few days ago. His body and his mind are still absorbing the shock. The fever is related to stress rather than infection. I'm not certain you or Detective Vecchio realize just how frail he is at the moment." Meg lost her temper.

"Does he need counseling or a specialist of some kind? What are we suppose to do? You're his doctor, you have to tell us!"

"This is a hospital." Cambridge growled at Meg's volume. She took a breath, fighting her own anger. Finally, she apologized for yelling. Then in a more even tone, she said,

"If you will tell me what he needs, I'll make certain he gets it. The only thing I am interested in is getting Fraser back on his feet." Cambridge sighed again before he answered,

"Given the fever, I would like to keep him here another night. The kind of stress he is dealing with can cause physical side effects. The fever is just one of those and I'd like to watch for any others. Tomorrow I'd like to discuss the possibility of psychiatric care with him. Just some outside counseling for when he leaves the hospital. Your Constable likes to keep his walls up and that is simply not healthy."

"Is that it?"

"I want him left alone. No more police interviews. No more discussing his abduction in any way. Until he's physically stronger, it's far too dangerous."

Meg agreed to everything. In Vecchio's absence, she had to make some decisions and Ben was sleeping. The doctor convinced her the extra day in the hospital would be another good day of rest. After the way he passed out, she had to agree he was too weak to move around on his own. Vecchio was working. She was leaving that afternoon for Chicago. Who would look after him? The doctor was adamant that he not fly because even a slight level of anxiety was too much so she couldn't take him home.

As the doctor walked away, she hoped she was making the right decision. She returned to Ben's room. He looked peaceful. His color, though pale, was nearly back to normal. His breathing came in soft rhythm with his rising and falling chest. The wounds painting his body had faded and mottled into pinks, yellows and blues. She thought he looked like a Picasso in an abstract way, then laughed to herself at her own silliness. She took his hand softly, rubbing the knuckles on the back. He sighed and slipped deeper into sleep.

When the phone rang, he knew who was calling. It was time. He almost answered flippantly but thought better of it. He might be wrong. Or the caller might be late. He doubted both things.

"It's me. The bats are waking." The caller said.

"With the vampires." Came the pre-arranged answer.

"It all went just like we planned." The caller laughed. "You're always right about these things."

"You almost pushed him over the edge."

"So did you." Both men laughed this time.

"I have to say, I didn't want to do this but you were right. I haven't had this much fun since the first one."

"It was too good to pass up. We've seen the criers and the beggars and the screamers and the shocked faithful. He was so different, so calm and controlled. So serious. I knew he'd be perfect for this."

"We should've done somethin' to his throat. Everytime I hear his voice, I wanna throttle him."

"Too restricting. We don't want to give him a physical excuse for being quiet. It's better if he does it to himself. I knew he'd isolate himself. Focus on himself. When we take him again, well, it'll be art."

"With a little prodding." The caller said.

"A little bit." They both laughed again.

"They found the last one." The caller said, seriously.

"Good."

"They won't find anything on him?"

"I wouldn't let that happen."

"I know. I just like to hear you say it." The caller hung up. The man stared at his phone for a few moments with a smile. He felt anxious. He knew they'd need to take the Mountie back soon. Neither one could wait much longer.

Walking down the hall of the hospital, Ray Vecchio yelled at Thatcher in his mind in a loud waking dream. When she called him just before leaving for the airport, he was too stunned to yell. Then when he found his voice, she hung up abruptly, in a hurry to catch her plane. He suspected she planned it that way.

The body in the alley revealed the same information as the others. Severely beaten, tortured and starved, washed thoroughly, probably after death and dumped like trash. The coroner had not listed the official cause of death yet, but there were so many possibilities from a broken neck to blood loss to internal injuries to starvation or dehydration. Basically, he said they should choose one they were comfortable with until he could give them the real story.

Agent Fisher grimly searched the alley, pointed out details to mark, examined the body and generally directed the crime scene. Ray followed directions. He made his own notes of observations but this scene was nearly identical to the others. The one important fact that Ray wanted was when the man was taken. Was Benny still a prisoner then or did they grab this guy immediately after they found him? If they held two at the same time, that would be a departure from pattern. And any departure from the pattern could be useful.

Reaching Fraser's room, Ray hesitated outside for a moment. A different officer sat in a chair glancing through a newspaper. This one looked like he went to high school with the other one and was probably a grade behind. Ray nodded at him as he pushed open the door.

Ben looked like he was just waking up. His eyes were half closed. His hair was matted to his skull. Thatcher said he was feverish so he had probably been sweating while he slept. He was curled on to one side with his arms wrapped around his middle. He shifted slightly when the door opened. Seeing Ray, he struggled around into a sitting position but his shoulders were slumped. His usually bright blue eyes retained a gray haze. Thinking back, Ray hadn't seen anything like a spark in Fraser since they found him. He was still polite but Ray suspected he was hiding behind his manners to avoid a confrontation.

"Hey, Benny, did I wake you?"

"No, I've been awake for some time. The medication they gave me is making me drowsy."

"Wha'd they give you?"

"I don't know. They just injected me and left."

"Wait, why aren't they giving you pills? Why do they have to use a needle?"

"I don't know, Ray. But, I'm not allowing it again." Ray wasn't going to argue that point. He hated needles.

"Did Cambridge run the last of his tests this morning?"

"I never saw Dr. Cambridge, but, yes, I underwent several tests. When I arrived back here, Special Agents Brown and Price were waiting to speak with me."

"Thatcher told me. She said Brown was a little hard on you." Actually, Ray thought, she said that Brown was slamming you.

"I don't understand it, Ray. Have I become a suspect?" The question surprised him.

"A suspect? Why would you say that?"

"Brown suggested I had sympathy for my abductors, that I was perhaps, hiding information from them. I have cooperated with this investigation to the best of my ability but they don't seem as if they believe me."

"Damn it, Benny, why didn't ya kick 'em out?"

"They are agents with the United States Federal Bureau of Investigation."

"I know who they are. That doesn't give 'em the right to bully you. And if you weren't so..." He left the word unsaid but they both heard it.

"Weak?" Ray softened his tone regretting his outburst already.

"You know what I mean. You're not well yet. You're still healing."

"Yes, I suppose I am."

"All I mean is...If you were healthy, you'd stand up for yourself more. Not a lot more, I realize that, but you wouldn't lay down and take it either."

"Perhaps their disdain for me is deserved." He said it so loud, so seriously, Ray was taken aback. If he whispered it or muttered it, Ray could have ignored the words, but clearly Fraser wanted a response.

"What are you talking about?"

"I allowed this to happen, Ray. We both know it."

"You're not making sense."

"I ran headlong into a situation that I was ill prepared for."

"You were set up."

"I made mistakes the greenest recruit would not make."

"You were set up."

"Ray..."

"No, I don't believe you're saying this. You were a victim. I know you don't like to think about that, but you were. You didn't ask to be kidnapped and tortured."

"Ray, please..."

"No, let's at least call it what it was. What happened to you shouldn't 've happened to anyone. You didn't ask for it and you didn't cause it and you know better than to think like that."

"If I had held back. If I had waited, perhaps the group of us would have apprehended them. Perhaps their latest victim would still be alive."

"That's not what happened. Benny, they took you when we were 50 feet away and managed to hide you for a week in the building we were investigating. Do you really think we would've found 'em? Taking you only complicated things. If they had any concerns about being caught, they wouldn't have taken you." Ben considered this. Hearing his doubt explained away so easily struck something. How could Ray rationalize his behavior? In a softer voice, he said,

"Still, Ray, I was incredibly arrogant to think I could go ahead of all of you, against orders, against sense."

"Okay, fine, you made a mistake. It's not your first. You're not perfect, Benny. You wanted to stop these guys before they killed someone else and so you acted like a cop and you went after 'em. There's no way you could've guessed they were waiting. I mean, why would they? There were cops everywhere and they decided to nab you in the middle of it all? Who thinks like that?"

"I should have anticipated..."

"How? Because unless you have a crystal ball, I don't know how you anticipate something that is completely irrational." Ben looked away. His heart pounded firmly in his chest. The night sky seemed to agree with Ray but did he? He tried to offer another argument but his words sounded weak even to him.

"I am a police officer, I should be able to anticipate."

"If we could guess what the bad guys are gonna do all the time, they wouldn't need cops, Benny. You can't anticipate everything." Ben looked back at him seriously.

"Ray, why wouldn't they fear being caught?" Ray was startled by the change in direction their conversation took. He needed a moment to catch up. He also did not like the way Fraser changed subjects when they were finally reaching some of the things that seemed to be plaguing him the last few days. He answered carefully.

"Well, their labyrinth was fairly sophisticated. They just had to stay inside the walls."

"But, why didn't anyone look inside the walls? It was an old, abandoned building. You said agents and police officers searched it for days. You said they knew I disappeared inside the building and no one saw me come out."

"Well, they found a grate in the cellar that led to the sewer system. We assumed they took you out that way."

"I was on the second floor, Ray. How could they have gotten me past you and down two floors?"

"Benny, when we couldn't find you, it was chaos. We figured they managed to slip by in the confusion." Fraser sat up, showing more animation than he had since his rescue.

"But, Ray, how? I don't understand how that could happen."

"But, it didn't happen. They slipped into the walls."

"But, why didn't anyone think of that?"

"Because we already had a working scenario that night. We were acting on that. No one started offering other explanations for hours."

"whose scenario was it?"

"I don't know." Ray answered shrugging, feeling frustrated.

"Whoever decided that these men slipped by thirty trained professionals to escape through a sewer started everyone on the wrong path. What if it was deliberate?"

"Benny, who would do that? Why? Unless you think that a police officer is involved in this."

"Why not? A police officer can use their force to coerce a potential victim. He would know where to find isolated places and isolated people. He would know what direction the police are likely to take in an investigation. Serial killers want nothing more than complete control and who has more control in day to day society?"

"But, when you were taken, all the people close to the investigation were searching the building. They couldn't have been with you and looking for you at the same time."

"There are two killers, Ray. The one looking could easily have steered the rest away from his partner. And as you said, it was chaos, can you account for the whereabouts of every officer on the scene? I highly doubt that anyone could." Ray considered it. When Fraser went missing, the scene was pandemonium. Thirty cops from all jurisdictions flooded the building and the neighborhood. Everyone was ordered to stay with a partner but who was keeping track? Ray lost Agent Fisher twice. He sat down slowly.

"Do you understand what you're saying? You were working on this for weeks. You know all the agents, all the officers. You're saying that one or more of them kidnapped you, nearly killed you, can you really imagine any of them doing that?" Fraser sat back. Breathing was harder when he remembered too much. And imagining that it was someone he knew, someone he probably shared meals with, conversations with, caused a dull ache to throb across his forehead. Ray watched the color fade from his friend's face as Ben sat back.

"I don't know." He answered, softly. "I think it's possible."

"It's hard to imagine. You tend to think of serial killers as chewing on the curtains types."

"But, we know differently. Most serial killers blend in society. If they didn't, they wouldn't be able to function well enough to take their victims. In this case, the individuals are extremely organized and focused. If we consider the profile, these men aren't hiding in shadows, they're professionals. They aren't sending out signals in order to get caught. In fact, they're bathing their victims to wash away evidence. The only reason they leave their victims in the open is to cause terror. They know the body will have no evidence."

"If you're right, Benny, we don't have anyone to trust."

"Well, we have each other." Ben answered, optimistically. Ray smiled. Leave it to Benny to come up with a bright side.

"Okay," Ray said, "We'll have to start back at the beginning if we're going to figure this out. I'm gonna call Welsh and tell him what we're doing. He can get Franny doing some background checks on the task force, maybe that'll show something."

"Perhaps if we start with the FBI. They've been working this since the beginning of the investigation."

"We need someone who has been in the same city as all of the murders before the murders. Franny can chart their whereabouts based on their expenditures. That's all public information."

"It doesn't seem likely that the person or persons involved would claim expenses when they're off duty."

"But, when they are on duty, we should know where they are and it might put them close to the murders."

"Good thinking, Ray."

"Thank you. You'll be all right for awhile?" Ben nodded. "You're sure?"

"I'm fine, Ray, really."

"Actually, you do look better. All right, I'll be back. I'll tell Junior out here to keep Brown and the rest away. Thatcher said they need to go through her so we have a legitimate reason."

"She was quite forceful." Ben said with a smile.

"Yea, I'll bet she was." Ray teased as he left.

Vecchio found the hospital library. A small room, maybe 8'x8' with a wall of paperbacks, four cushioned chairs and a square table. In the center of the table was a phone for outside use. He started by calling the 27^th District in Chicago. His sister, Francesca, who was also the Civilian Aide at the station, answered the phone on the third ring. After a short interrogation regarding her obsession, Benton Fraser, she transferred him to Lieutenant Welsh. Ray was surprised by the instant dressing down he received. Evidently, Special Agent Brown phoned Welsh to let him know that Vecchio was uncooperative and sarcastic. Ray didn't expect Welsh to disagree with the FBI agent. Everyone who knew Ray, knew he was uncooperative and sarcastic. He was surprised when Welsh chewed him out for it.

"Sir, I have followed every order Brown has given."

"But, have you been nice, Detective? I think not. I think you are probably thumbing your nose at this guy every chance you get. Let us not forget that you asked to work on that task force. You investigated the two victims in Chicago and when you found out they were related to the guy Brown is after, you requested to work with him. No one ordered you, Vecchio and now you better start acting like a professional." Ray could argue but he needed Welsh's support. So, instead, he listened politely and controlled his temper. When his lieutenant completed "counseling" him on etiquette and protocol, Ray simply said he understand and would try harder.

"All right, Detective, is there a reason for this call or did you miss me so much you needed to waste the taxpayers' money."

"No, Sir, I have a reason. I have a suspicion here regarding the identity of the killer and I would like some background checks run. I was hoping Francesca might be able to find some history on several people, then chart their whereabouts since the killing spree began."

"Why aren't you going through the FBI, Detective?"

"Because they're the ones I'm checking out, Sir." Ray blurted.

"Excuse me?"

"Look, Fraser has an idea that maybe..."

"Ah, the Constable. How is he doing?"

"Much better, Sir."

"He must be if he is still investigating this case."

"He's not exactly investigating, Sir, but he is thinking. And you know Fraser, once he starts with something he's like a dog with a bone."

"Which reminds me, your sister has taken to bringing the Constable's wolf to the station with her each day. Now I am as fond of that animal as anyone but perhaps he would be more comfortable at the Canadian Consulate."

"Well, Diefenbaker normally stays at our house when Fraser is out of town. And he's always at the station anyway when Benny is there. I'm sure she thought you wouldn't mind, Sir."

"Ah, yes, well, there would be the quandary, Detective. Since she never asked, she would never know, would she?"

"I'll talk to her, Sir."

"Thank you."

"Now about those background checks. Uh, Benny has a good point in that the police would be a good candidate for committing these abductions and murders, especially someone actually working the investigation. And the only people on the task force that have been there from the beginning are FBI agents. I just want to see if it's possible but, for obvious reasons, I don't want them to know that's what I'm doing."

"I'll tell you what I'll do, Vecchio. And let me be clear that this is entirely against my better judgement, I'll give you your sister for 24 hours. At the end of that time, if there is no connection, I will pull her from the research and you will go to Special Agent Brown and voice your concerns. It will be up to him after that since this is his investigation, not the domain of the Chicago Police Department. Is that fair, Vecchio?"

"More than fair, Sir. Thank you, Sir." Ray was pleasantly surprised he agreed so easily.

Welsh transferred Ray back to Francesca. The conversation took a long time as Ray explained what he wanted and she wrote everything down in detail. She interrupted with a lot of questions. She wanted to do everything right for Fraser, and Ray had to be patient though patience was not his strength, especially with his sister. He pulled his own notes, giving her the dates of discovery and location of each of the ten victims they knew about, including Fraser's abduction and the new one, Alex Wheaton. Then he listed the fourteen agents that started on the task force eight months earlier. She would have to find their social security numbers and work from there in order to track their movements. Ray knew 24 hours was not enough time to complete the task even if she worked the entire time so he highlighted the five agents he thought were most suspicious and asked her to concentrate on them.

After giving her everything he could think of, he phoned Ray Kowalski. The civilian aide in his district said Kowalski was gone for the weekend. Apparently, he wrapped up the case he was working on and was taking a couple of days off. Ray hung up and called his own district again. When Francesca answered, he asked to be transferred to Detective Jack Huey. Jack and Ray were not friends but they had worked together for several years and Ray trusted him. He asked him to assist Franny as much as possible without telling Welsh. He knew the lieutenant would never approve two of his staff working on such a long shot but with Kowalski unavailable he had to ask Jack. Huey agreed cautiously but he stipulated that any flack from Welsh and he would blame Ray without hesitation.

"I know you will." Ray said as he hung up.

Ray phoned the local police station next. He asked for Sergeant Lois Evans. She answered in her best official voice and it sounded like phone sex to Ray.

"Hello, Lois. Do you ever get to go home?"

"Not since 1987." She said with a laugh.

"I was wondering if you might want to meet for dinner. I have some thoughts on the case and I'd like to bounce them off someone."

"Oh and I thought you asking me out for a minute." She sounded disappointed though he could hear a playful tone as well.

"We're cops, if we can't mix business with pleasure, we wouldn't get any pleasure." Ray answered.

"Oh, good answer, Vecchio. Where do you want to meet and when?"

"How about the diner around the corner from the station. The one that looks like the French on steroids."

"You mean the Moi Aussi? I can be there around eight."

"Perfect. See you in an hour." Ray hung up. He liked that woman.

He also knew he would be foolish not to have back up if Benny's suspicions panned out. The truth was, even if they found evidence that it was one of the men on the task force and were able to make an arrest, that man had a partner. For now, they had no idea who it could be. Unless, of course, it was two cops and then the background check might sift out both of them. But, the idea of two cops being tandem serial killers just seemed too unlikely. Especially two FBI agents since the government scrutinizes all applicants thoroughly before they can be accepted for training. One man might fool the psychologists, the interviewers, the instructors, but two? Ray had trouble believing that.

Ray took a moment to re-organize before he headed for Benny's room. Just as he stood up, a young nurse nearly knocked him over when she burst through the door backward carrying a stack of books. Ray caught her to keep her from falling but the stack of paperbacks tumbled out of her hands to the floor. He knelt down to help her while she apologized and complained simultaneously. The language she used was unbecoming from such a pretty, young woman. Ray listened to her alternately grimacing at her cursing and smiling at the comedy in it. He set some of the books on the table behind them. Once they were all gathered, she straightened up and smoothed her white dress. When she smiled at him, he almost forgot the colorful speech she gave a few moments before. Automatically, he glanced at her finger for a ring, then at her nametag. The small gold rectangle announced her as Nurse Julie Lewis. He stared at the tag too long, trying to place the name and she mistook his intentions.

"I would actually be about a foot higher than where you are looking." She said, sternly. Ray caught himself and looked at her, embarrassed.

"I was reading your name tag." He said.

"It's a short name." She responded.

"So, it is. My name is Detective Ray Vecchio." He stuck out his hand, trying to ease the tension slightly.

"Well, you know my name." She said as she shook his hand.

"Lewis." He said, then it dawned on him where he had heard it before. "Lewis. Your name is Lewis."

"Yes, I know." She said, looking at him as if he were insane.

"My friend knocked you down a couple of days ago."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry. My friend is Constable Fraser and he feels terrible about what happened. I was told you wouldn't be in until...Saturday, I think, and he'd really like to apologize. Do you have a minute to go to his room with me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." She stated.

"You know, Fraser, the Mountie, he's been here almost a week now."

"I know the patient. I found him after his...episode. You're his next of kin right?"

"Yea, right." She waited for him to say something else. "Oh, well, he feels badly for making you bump your head. He may have written you a formal apology already but I know he'd rather tell you in person."

"Detective Vecchio, Mr. Fraser has nothing to apologize for."

"Oh, you don't know him. He'll obsess about this until he makes it right."

"But, he didn't hurt me. He was a bit agitated but I just spoke to him until the doctor came in and then Dr. Cambridge dismissed me while a pair of orderlies helped your friend back to bed."

"He didn't shove you?"

"No, he was actually very passive."

"Well, it must have been another nurse then."

"Not that I heard of. In fact, I was surprised when Dr. Cambridge ordered restraints for him. Mr. Fraser has been nothing but cooperative and polite since he arrived."

"But, why would Cambridge tell me that he shoved you?"

"Perhaps you misunderstood."

"I didn't." Ray said, taking a step back.

"Well, perhaps the doctor misunderstood, then. I'm sorry, Detective, but I have to report back to my floor. Thank you for helping me clean up this **** mess." Her change into swearing again broke him out of his thoughts.

All right, Ray, he commanded himself, settle down and think. He sat on the edge of one of the chairs. Cambridge lied. Or the nurse was mistaken. Or Ray was mistaken because he only heard the nurse's name once. Maybe there were two Nurse Lewis'. It's a common name. But, she was the one who found Fraser. She said she found him. So, she must be the same nurse. Did Cambridge just think she was hurt? Did he just assume the worst? Or was he lying?

Ray needed an answer. The only place to get that answer was the source. He stood up slowly, trying to make this make sense. He moved faster as his confusion grew. He had a hunch, a scary, unfounded hunch. In fact, this was the kind of hunch that could get a detective busted to patrol.

He nearly ran down the hall to the elevator. All of the doctor's offices were located on the sixth floor. Two floors below Benny's room. Ray pressed the button and glanced at his watch. He had to meet Lois in half an hour. But, he had to see Cambridge first.

Coming off the elevator he followed the corridor to Cambridge's office. Ray stopped there the day after Benny was admitted because he wanted to see about counseling for his friend. Cambridge said the hospital had no official counseling services. He said he thought Fraser needed to work things out for himself rather than take a therapist as a crutch. He said, if Ray insisted, he would contact an outside agency but Ray backed down. Cambridge was the doctor. If he thought Fraser could recover from his abduction without counseling, who was Ray to disagree? Afterall Ray wanted to believe in Fraser's strength. He needed to believe in it. Benny was invincible in Ray's eyes even though he had seen how untrue that was on more than one occasion.

Ray reached the doctor's door and found it locked. The lights were off inside. At 7:30 at night, he should have expected the doctor to be off duty and at home. He slept in Benny's room almost every night since he was admitted and he never saw Cambridge after dark. He should have known. Still, frustration filled him like an errant fungus. He walked slowly back towards the elevators. Tomorrow, he vowed to get some answers and get Benny released. When he reached the elevator he pressed the down button. The doors opened revealing Betty Southern, a clerical in the hospital who was looking into the phone calls to Fraser's room.

"Oh, good, Detective Vecchio, I was looking for you."

"Did you find something?"

"Yea, he's had three phone calls since he was admitted. One came from a Chicago police station on the day after his arrival. Then on the day you were asking about, he had two other calls." She held up the stack of printout. "See, there's this one, that's another Chicago police station and there's this one. It was probably a nurse or the kitchen or something."

"You mean that last call came from inside the hospital?"

"That's right. Everything runs through one switchboard so I don't know which extension the call originated from, but it was definitely internal." Ray's heart picked up a little faster.

He decided to visit Fraser one more time before leaving the hospital. An older, overweight police officer had taken residence outside Benny's door this time. At least Ray had some confidence in his experience if not his physical prowess. But, when he opened the door, Fraser's room was empty. He looked around dumbly, then stepped back into the hall. He asked the officer where Constable Fraser was and the man looked at him in surprise. They both went back into the room. Ray looked under the bed. The officer checked the bathroom.

"This door is locked." The officer said. Ray joined him at the door and tried the handle. It was locked. He knocked softly but no answer came. He knocked again and called out. There was still no answer. He put his ear to the door. At first there was silence, then he heard a soft scraping.

"He's in there." Ray said to the officer. "Go find someone to open this door."

Ray put his ear back to the door. He heard some more movement.

"Benny, open the door. I can't open it from this side, I need you to do it. Benny, can you hear me? Open the door." Ray continued trying to coax his partner but now there was no sound.

A young maintenance man with "Tim" printed on gray overalls arrived with a toolbox. He asked Ray to move aside. As he sidled his way in past the detective, his foot slipped, then he caught his balance using the door for support.

"Damn." He said, looking at the floor, "someone spilled soap over here." Ray was surprised he hadn't noticed the pungent odor.

Tim tried the doorknob to confirm it was locked, then set about unscrewing the screws.

"Ya know, this door ain't locked." Tim said, "It's jammed."

"Why do you say that?"

"Cause they lock from both sides. It's a safety feature just in case one of the psych patients or druggies try locking themselves in. If this door was just locked, we'd just press this pressure button here and it'd pop right open." He indicated a small button at the base of the knob. It took about three minutes to release the doorknob. The door slipped open on its own revealing a dark interior. Ray moved Tim aside. He stepped inside slowly. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. Then he found Benny hunched in a corner in the shower. His knees were drawn to his chest. He was still wearing his sweats but he was damp and shivering.

"It's all right, Benny, it's me." Ray soothed as he touched his arm. Ben pulled away reflexively. "Okay, that's all right, let's just get out of here. Let's go where there's light, okay?" A couple of nurses appeared behind him, causing a shadow over Ben's face. He shrank back. Furious, Ray ordered them away, then turned back to find Ben covering his head with both hands. When Ray reached out to him, he jerked back more violently, throwing his hands out protectively.

"Jeez, Benny, I'm not gonna hurt you. I just wanna get you out of this room, okay?" A female voice sounded behind him.

"Detective Vecchio, if you'll let us in, we can sedate him. He'll wake up much calmer."

"No, you people have done enough." Ray answered, keeping his voice soft but his anger tinged the edges.

Ray spent the next half-hour alternately coaxing Ben out of the shower and telling the hospital staff to stay away. Finally, Ben seemed to emerge from his trance. He relaxed visibly and allowed Ray to help him up. He leaned heavily on him, staggering slightly as they left the bathroom. Ray tucked him into bed carefully, then asked the two nurses, the maintenance man and the police officer to vacate the room.

Once they were alone, Ray pulled the blankets up closer around Ben's still form. His friend was awake but staring vacantly at the ceiling. Ray was reminded of his first night in the hospital. But instead of staying entranced, Ben turned his head to look into the concerned green eyes of his partner.

"How're you doing?" Ray asked quietly.

"Feeling a bit silly, Ray."

"No need. You wanna sleep?"

"I think I should explain."

"Okay, if you want. But, you can sleep if you want. We can talk in the morning."

"I was having a shower. The light went off suddenly but before I could discover the cause, the door shut. The room is very small, but, I, I didn't begin to panic immediately. I just re-dressed and tried the light switch. The bulb must have blown. Then I tried the door and it was locked. I didn't like being closed in with no light. But, I just thought calmly and re-organized myself. I regained control of my breathing and I knocked on the door. I knocked and called for some time but no one came. I was still maintaining quite nicely when I was overcome by the smell of the soap. The chemical smell was overpowering. It became very difficult to breathe and..." He hesitated, "I suppose I don't remember what happened after that. It was very strange, Ray, I could hear your voice and I wanted to respond, but I couldn't. It was like a strange sort of paralysis."

Ray watched his friend talk. His lips quivered with each word. He rubbed furiously at the sheet between his fingers. His eyes were wide and shiny.

"So, it reminded you of being in the closet, right? And it scared you. It should've scared you, Benny. I only pretend that you're Superman, you're not really, ya know?"

"Ray, do you remember the ride to the tenement that night?"

"Do I remember it?"

"You knocked on my door and we got in the car. I remember putting my hat on the dash just as I would in the Riviera at home, but then it just goes blank. Did we talk on the way?" Ray had to think about that. Slowly, he could see Ben put his Stetson on the dash. And the memory came back.

"Sure, I was telling you about Lois, you know, Sergeant Evans. You said something about her seeming 'sturdy' and I was kidding you about how much women love to be called 'sturdy'." Ben smiled as the words came back to him. He closed his eyes with a sigh.

"You wanna get out of here?" Ray asked. Ben opened his eyes in surprise.

"Now? I mean I haven't been officially released, have I?"

"Answer the question."

"Yes, I want to leave."

"Then get dressed while I put your stuff in a bag. This place is giving me the creeps and I don't want you here anymore."

"It would be terribly rude to just leave in the night."

"Benny, I have good reasons, let's just get out of here."

A short time later, Ray ignored the argument of the floor nurse while he and Fraser boarded the elevator. Fraser apologized and thanked them for their care as the doors squeaked shut.

Ray parked in the garage below the hospital. They stepped into a cement structure filled with cars and echoing with every step. Ben hesitated for a few seconds, but one look at his partner and he set aside his fear. They reached Ray's car. Ray unlocked the passenger side and threw Fraser's bag in the back.

He heard the step behind him but it was too late. Something crashed into his skull and he crumpled.

Stanley Raymond Kowalski arrived at the hospital containing his best friend. After arresting a new drug dealer working the local schools, he immediately requested the weekend off and headed for the airport. He hadn't heard from Vecchio in a couple of days and he didn't like the way Fraser sounded on the phone. So he asked his landlady to check on his pet turtle and he boarded the first plane to this small town in upstate New York.

When he reached the airport, he phoned Vecchio's cell phone but received a busy signal. He decided to go straight to the hospital. Inspector Thatcher said she was worried about Fraser and worried that Vecchio might not be realizing the extent of psychological damage Fraser received from his kidnapping. Kowalski figured she was exaggerating but it gave him the final push he needed to leave town.

He pulled into the hospital parking lot in time to see Fraser pulling out. Fraser was staring straight ahead and the driver was not Vecchio. Kowalski didn't like the look on his friend's face and he considered beeping his horn to get his attention. But, something told him to follow instead. The other man was probably FBI, but Ray didn't like the feeling his stomach was getting. Something about this felt wrong.

He turned his car around carefully in order to follow at a discreet distance.

The car was Vecchio's rental. Ray knew this for two reasons. One reason was because he called Francesca and she told him the make and model of the car. He wanted to know so he could find Vecchio in the parking lot of the police station or hotel or hospital. Then he would be able to meet up with him easier. The second reason he knew this vehicle was Vecchio's was the large car rental sticker on the bumper along with the Chicago license plate.

Kowalski followed through the narrow street for several minutes before a large tractor- trailer separated him from the vehicle in front of him. He slowed easily, not wanting to slam his brakes or draw attention to himself. But, he cursed furiously. As soon as the trailer provided enough space, he drove around it and went straight for several blocks. The other vehicle was not in sight.

Kowalski turned around and traveled down the first side street he came to for several blocks. Then he turned around again and repeated this pattern. He knew he had almost no chance of finding that car again unless it was stopped. He continued searching for nearly an hour before admitting he lost it.

Ray slammed his fist against the steering wheel in frustration. With no place else to go, he purchased a street map from an all night convenience store and found his way back to the local police station.

A skinny kid with acne worked behind the front desk. He was in full uniform so Ray knew he was a police officer but he could hardly believe it.

"Hi, I'm uh, Ray Kowalski, Detective Ray Kowalski with the Chicago PD. I'm looking for Detective Vecchio or Agent Brown, are either of them here?" A pretty woman with blond hair hanging around her shoulders and wearing a short sleeved lavender dress walked over to him to interrupt. She appraised him as well. His short, spiky blond hair and his compact muscular body were polar opposites from either Vecchio or Fraser.

"I'm looking for Vecchio too. Are you a friend of his?" Ray looked her up and down. He was irritated that Vecchio was probably dating her. Vecchio married Kowalski's ex-wife just a short time ago, divorced her three months later and left her in Florida. He knew it shouldn't, but it bothered him that he was dating someone else.

"No, we're not friends, but, I'm lookin' for him. I just saw Constable Fraser leavin' the hospital with some guy I don't know and I'm tryin' to figure out what's goin' on."

"Well, I don't know about Constable Fraser, but I can tell you that Vecchio stood me up."

"Figures."

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry, nothin'."

"Hey, Lois, what're you doing here?" A heavy set uniformed officer with gray hair and pocked skin asked from behind them. Lois turned around.

"Hey, Larry, weren't you suppose to be watching Constable Fraser?"

"Yea, but that detective from Chicago dismissed me. He said he was takin' the Mountie home."

"Did he mention he couldn't meet me or anything?" Lois asked.

"Nah, sorry, he didn't say anything about you."

"Then he must've been planning on it still. I'm surprised he checked the Mountie of the hospital though."

"Does someone wanna fill me in here?" An annoyed Kowalski said. Lois turned back to face him.

"My name is Sergeant Lois Evans and Detective Vecchio asked me to meet him because he had some ideas regarding the case he's working on. But, that was over an hour ago and he never showed up." Ray really did not like the sound of that. He decided to share his own information.

"My name's Detective Ray Kowalski and I'm a friend of Fraser's. I came here to check on him and maybe bring 'im home but I saw 'im leavin' the hospital in Vecchio's rental but Vecchio's not with 'im. I followed the car for awhile cause ya know, I got these instincts and they're tellin' me somethin' ain't right but then I lost 'im. Now, can anybody tell me what he's doin' leavin' the hospital at night with some guy in Vecchio's car, no less?"

"You said you followed them?"

"Yea."

"Can you show me where you lost them? I have a few instincts of my own and I'd like to see if they're screaming for a good reason."

"Yea, I can do that."

Ray Vecchio woke to a pounding headache. It took several minutes before he could open his eyes. He was standing in the cellar of the tenement building. A cement room with no windows and a small grate that led to the sewer. His hands were tied behind him and he was affixed to some kind of pole by a strap around his chest. He looked around slowly, then his breath caught in his throat as his stomach flipped on itself.

Benny was strung up to the ceiling by his wrists. His toes were barely touching the floor. Ray could see a strip of pale skin showing between the edge of his T-shirt and the sweats he was wearing. His face and arms shined with sweat. Ray checked him closely. He could not see any new wounds. Whatever was coming hadn't happened yet.

"Benny?"

"I'm glad you're awake, Ray. Are you all right?"

"Raging headache is all. You?"

"As well as can be expected, I imagine." His attempt at humor sounded tight and strained.

"Are we alone?"

"For the moment. He had to let his partner in."

"Who's he, Fraser? I didn't see him."

"I'm surprised you haven't guessed, Detective. You seem so well informed." Ray turned his head to find Special Agent Michael Brown standing in a narrow doorway. He didn't need to look, he recognized the voice. Brown stepped aside dramatically and Doctor Wilson Cambridge followed him in.

"You son of a bitch." Ray spat out.

"Such language, Detective." Cambridge said.

"He doesn't like federal agents." Brown explained.

"I've been under the impression he doesn't like doctors either."

"He's been a loose cannon since Chicago. I should've refused to take him on the task force."

"But, then we would've missed Constable Fraser and he has been our most interesting subject so far."

"I can't argue with that."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ray asked.

"Several things, actually." Cambridge answered. "The first is that we are the men you've been looking for. We have actually murdered nine innocent men. Well, no man over the age of consent is really innocent, of course, but in the broad sense, the victims have been innocent. And of course, the nine we murdered together does not include the 5 or 6 that Agent Brown murdered on his own. The second thing is, we never would have allowed you so close to the investigation if Michael wasn't so interested in Constable Fraser. He matched our victim profile, he's a police officer and he's the most controlled individual either of us has ever met. We'd been wanting to test some theories and you and he just fell into our laps as it were."

"See, Cambridge thought it'd be interesting to take someone, put them through the whole victim process, then let them go. Let him think he's alive, then re-take 'im. Fraser, here, has been dead a week and he didn't even know it."

"Oh and Constable Fraser was so perfect with his intelligence, his observations, his manner and controlled responses. He was the only real choice for the experiment. It was like having our own marionette."

"How did you know he'd be the first one up the stairs. Or that he'd break ranks at all?" Vecchio asked.

"Oh, we didn't. It was just an opportunity that had to be taken advantage of. Michael was outside directing everyone. I was supposed to stay hidden but my curiosity got the better of me. He knew you were coming there, of course, and he did tell me to leave, but I just had to see all of you in action. So, I hid and I watched through the tiny hole in that dreadful paneling and when I heard footsteps, lone footsteps, booted footsteps, I knew where I needed to be. So, I hid behind the door and when Constable Fraser appeared, it was a simple matter of a small injection. He struggled a bit and I only had about 30 seconds to drag him back inside the wall but adrenaline was on my side. I can honestly say it was one of the most anxious, exciting moments of my life. I just stood there, staring out at you and then Agents Price and Fisher and your confusion and your fear filled me with such a feeling of power and joy that I could barely contain myself."

"You two are insane." Ray said, softly.

"Not really. We're completely aware of what we're doing. The FBI profile means nothing and we're proving it every day." Cambridge responded.

"No, you're nuts. The profile said a 'white male in his thirties or forties, probably a professional, educated, probably a family.' You are the profile. Agent Brown created it. He did everything but name you as the guy."

"Actually, we wrote that together, Vecchio. But, it was a nice try at divide and conquer." Brown said.

"If a criminal can manipulate the profile so effectively then profiling is useless." Cambridge continued, "That's what we set out to prove."

"But, why? Agent Brown spent most of his career proving its validity."

"Actually, he's trying to disprove the profiling process. I just like killing people." Brown said. Okay, Ray thought, they are sociopaths and one of them thinks he has a higher purpose. Pointing that out to them seemed counterproductive.

"So, how'd ya know we were on to you?"

"Did you really think you could start checking out FBI files without someone informing me? The file was no more than accessed and my office phoned me."

"So, what now?" Ray asked after a moment, "I don't fit your profile."

"That's true. We're going to shoot you in the head and burn you in the incinerator out back. They'll never find your body. Constable Fraser should be found in about, oh, four days, I guess it'll take. He'll be the tenth victim in our terrible rampage." Brown answered.

"I've been thinking, Michael." Cambridge said.

"Uh oh." Brown kidded him.

"Let's not kill Vecchio right away. We've never had two at the same time. It might be fun to let him watch, gauge his reactions, use him for more research."

"Just let him watch?"

"You saw him at the hospital. He was so protective of the Constable. Staying with him night and day, treating him like a brother. What a perfect torment for both of them."

"Sometimes I think they're right when they say you're evil." Brown said.

"It's one of the many reasons we get along so well." Cambridge responded.

Ray shuddered inwardly while he listened, helplessly fascinated. Standing so close to madness was a dizzying sensation. He was surprised when the two men left them alone again. Surprised and relieved for the moment. It wasn't until there was silence when he noticed Fraser speaking. His voice was soft and hollow, almost as if it belonged to someone else. Ray had to strain to hear him. Then when he could understand, he was frightened.

"But there was life," Ben said, "abroad in the land and defiant. Down the frozen waterway toiled a string of wolfish dogs. Their bristly fur was rimmed with frost. Their breath froze in the air as it left their mouths, spouting forth in spumes of vapor crystals of frost." He's quoting, Ray thought. He's quoting something he's read, trying to keep the fear away. Ray listened silently. Considering their situation and the plans Brown and Cambridge had for him, he thought Fraser should use whatever defenses he had.

"An hour went by, and a second hour." Ben continued, "The pale light of the short sunless day was beginning to fade, when a faint far cry arose on the still air. It soared upward with a swift rush, till it reached its topmost note, where it perished, palpitant and tense, and then slowly died away."

Kowalski drove. Lois Evans lived in a small town. She did not own a car though she had a license like any police officer. She was serious company as they worked their way through the narrow streets. Ray drove to the hospital parking lot. Then he exited from the garage in order to keep track of his original directions. He followed his previous route confidently until he reached a narrow railroad crossing. He could not remember crossing tracks before. Lois encouraged him to stay on his course. She felt certain he did cross the tracks and must have forgotten.

Lois remained quiet beside him. She wanted him to concentrate without distraction. And she did not want to suggest anything inadvertently because then her theory would be invalid.

Ray appreciated her silence. This was a new town for him. It was night. And he had been following someone else, paying more attention to that car than to his location. He knew he was feeling his way along.

When he reached the street where the tractor-trailer pulled in front of him, he congratulated himself out loud.

"This is it, Sergeant, this is where I lost them."

"You're certain?"

"Oh, yea. That pink drive shaft sign is a dead giveaway."

"Good, because I think I know where they are."

She started giving directions and Kowalski followed them happily. He didn't know her but she seemed all right and she seemed to want to find Fraser.

"Detective, I think I'd better share my hunch with you because if I'm right, we are walking towards a serious situation here."

"Then I think yer right, share away."

"Constable Fraser disappeared in the tenement building just around the next corner. I'm afraid that's where he might've been going."

"Why would he go there?"

"I don't know. But, you said you didn't know the man with him. I think it's important to remember that Fraser is the only person to escape. It could be our killer wants him back."

"That'd be insane. He knows Fraser can't identify him."

"Maybe it's a matter of pride or principal. But, whatever it is, Detective, I think it's worth checking out, don't you?"

Fraser continued,

"Like most creatures of the wild, he early experienced famine. There came a time when not only did the meat supply cease, but the milk no longer came from his mother's breast. At first, the cubs whimpered and cried, but for the most part they slept. It was not long before they were reduced to a coma of hunger. There were no more spats and squabbles, no more tiny rages nor attempts at growling; while the adventures to the far white wall ceased altogether. The cubs slept, while the life that was in them flickered and died down."

His voice remained as softly distant as rain before the wind. He never changed his tone or added inflection. He just spoke. He recited passages from something Ray did not recognize but the sadness of them affected him. Though he could barely hear the words, the tone was not lost in the echoing cellar.

For Ben, there was only one defense. He needed both Cambridge and Brown to believe he was defeated. By launching into this litany of prose, he hoped to convince them he was mentally removed from them and their plans. Insanity is a good defense against the insane, he thought.

The problem with his plan, however, was time. He was still weak and hanging from the ceiling put a terrible strain on his arms and back. Pain just moved right back in to every muscle in his body and it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay conscious. Sweat ran in a constant stream from his face, his shoulders, his arms. And the chill in the room kept a small shiver running through his body like current.

Still, he felt if he could stay aware, then he could manipulate them the way they had manipulated him. The thought of Cambridge being one of his original captors made him nauseous. The doctor had examined him torturously and now, Ben believed it had been deliberate. He had to avoid thinking about that or he thought his mind would truly break.

He tried to look at Ray but perspiration filled his eyes. He wanted to tell him what he was doing, that he was not lost. He was buying time for both of them. Unable to voice all of that, he spoke one small sentence instead and hoped Ray would understand.

"I haven't left you alone, Ray."

Kowalski followed Lois' directions to the tenement. He wanted to stop there and go inside but she insisted they drive around the building to see if the car was parked nearby. This was her city and her hunch so he accepted her suggestion. They drove around the block twice. The car was not visible on any close street. Lois sighed, admitting she might be wrong.

"We gotta go look around." Ray said. "They probably hid the car."

"But, we're wasting time. I'm worried now and I think we need to report their disappearance."

"We will, but we're gonna look around first. You ever been inside there?"

"Yes. A couple of days after Fraser was found, Captain Unwin and I came down. The Feds were all over everything and they didn't really want our interference but we looked around anyway."

"They kept 'im boxed up in a wall, right?"

"Yes."

"You need to show me where."

"That's all torn out. They photographed everything but they took the box out for evidence."

"Will you show me where it used to be?"

She nodded hesitantly. Lois had reason to be nervous. There were two killers in her town. Two men who moved in, tortured and murdered a local man in the last 24 hours. Now, she was standing in front of a killing ground...with a stranger. She didn't know this man. She hadn't asked to see his identification. In her concern over Vecchio, she took his word. She had no backup. Her gun was in her purse instead of on her body. How could she wear a gun in the tight dress she wore?

They stepped out of the vehicle. Kowalski led the way up the stairs and into the lobby of the tenement building. Yellow police tape lined the door and a heavy chain link lock was draped through the handles. He ducked under the tape and picked the lock. Lois looked at him curiously.

"I know only TV cops can pick locks but I watched TV a lot when I was a kid. I thought I was getting a jump on basic training when I was a teenager." She smiled at him and followed through the door. She pointed to the steps as she removed her weapon from her purse. Kowalski had his gun out as well.

They walked slowly up the stairs. Kowalski stepped in the same hole that tripped Vecchio and fell on one knee. He cursed, annoyed with himself and Lois just raised her eyebrows. She led him down the hall to the apartment where Fraser was found.

The wall was an open crevice. She pointed to the area where the box had been and Ray shivered. He could not imagine Fraser fitting in that small space. They both jumped when a voice greeted them from inside the wall.

"Sergeant Evans, is that you?"

"Agent Brown?" She said, speaking to the darkness. Brown came into the light through the narrow passage built by the killers.

"What are you doing here, Sergeant?"

"Constable Fraser and Detective Vecchio are missing. We thought they might have been brought back here." She answered confidently.

"And we are?" He asked, indicating Kowalski. Ray held out his hand.

"Detective Kowalski from Chicago. You got any idea where the Mountie is?"

"I thought he was at the hospital." Brown answered shaking his hand.

"Yea, well, he's not. And neither is Vecchio."

"They're not here and you shouldn't be either. That tape was put up for a reason and so was the lock that you obviously ignored."

"We're investigating their disappearance. I think that warrants some attention." Lois said.

"Then go back to the station, report their disappearance and put out an APB. I assume you're familiar with police procedure, Sergeant?" Lois narrowed her eyes. She might be a small town cop but she wasn't intimidated by him.

"I am. I also think I'd like to look around a little before I give up. Have you been in the cellar yet?"

"That's where I was. I was hoping to discover if the latest victim spent any time in this building with Constable Fraser. It's likely they were held for at least one overlapping day."

"Yea, that's great, but, you don't seem too concerned about the disappearance of two cops." Ray said.

"How long have they been gone?" Kowalski felt himself slipping into weak territory.

"A couple hours maybe."

"And where have you looked?"

"Mostly, uh, here, you know, here."

"So, they could be at the hotel or even on their way back to Chicago."

"No, I had a dinner engagement with Vecchio, he wouldn't have just left without telling me." Evans said.

"And according to Fraser's doctor, he can't fly, so he's not on a plane. And I saw him in a car, heading this way."

"The hotel is this way from the hospital. So are a dozen restaurants. I suggest you check out those possibilities before you decide they're missing. If you really can't find them, then I'll put the APB out myself."

"But, who was driving him? I didn't see Vecchio."

"I don't know, Detective. I'm sure he'll be able to tell you when you find him."

"Well, since I'm here and everything, I'd kinduh like to see the cellar where Fraser was. Gives me a better idea of what happened to 'im."

"I'd rather you didn't until we complete our investigation. If you're still in town the day after tomorrow, give me a call and I'll give you a guided tour. Now, we should go before some overzealous neighbor calls the police on us."

The three of them walked out together. Brown breathed in the night air and shivered slightly. He explained he was parked behind the building, then he wished them a good night. Ray and Lois climbed into Ray's rental. Ray turned the key and pulled away from the curb.

"I haven't left you alone, Ray." Vecchio took a moment to hear him. Then he took another moment to understand. Relief filled him. So, Benny hadn't 'wigged out'. He was still with him and as long as they were both lucid, they had a chance.

Cambridge entered the room from the cellar steps rather than the wall where they built an entrance. He pressed a small gun against Vecchio's neck and whispered, "Shsh." Ray froze, thinking they decided to kill him immediately instead of later, then he heard sounds coming from above.

The gun barrel nuzzled against his ear canal. Fraser stopped reciting. He couldn't yell out to whoever spoke above them through the recesses of the labyrinth. If he yelled, Ray would be killed first. Whatever happened after that wouldn't matter if Ray were dead.

Several minutes passed while all the occupants of the cellar held their breath. Ray knew if he yelled, he would die. But, then Cambridge would turn the gun on Benny. In the confusion and the travelling distance, there wouldn't be time to save him. So, he remained still.

Finally, Brown returned. He shook his head at Cambridge who took the gun from Vecchio's ear. He walked over to Ben and took his face in both hands forcing him to look down at him. Ray shifted uncomfortably, re-testing the ropes that bound him.

"Who's Kowalski?" Ben's eyes widened.

"Pardon?" Brown pushed his head back and the Mountie swung back slightly, his feet dragging against the ground.

"Who is Detective Kowalski?'

"He's a Chicago cop, used to work at the 2-7." Ray answered quickly.

"Well, he's worried about the Constable. Why is that?" Neither man answered. "And he saw me in the car with this guy. He must have been at the hospital."

"Are you certain?" Cambridge asked.

"Yea. Then there's Sergeant Evans who's wondering why Vecchio didn't meet her for dinner. They're both cops and this is a serious problem."

"Oh, not so much a problem. Even if the Chicago cop saw you driving, he couldn't have gotten a very good look with the tinted windows and at night. And obviously he didn't recognize you just now. As for Evans, well, she doesn't know anything, she'll just be the first to ring the alarm about Vecchio."

"Well, whatever, we can't stay here. I don't think they'll be put off for long about checking this place out."

"We'll take them to the diner outside of town. There're so many things we can do there that we can't do here. It'll be better."

"We should kill Vecchio. I don't like transporting both of them."

"We can, of course. But, we could just dump him in the trunk like before. All tied up and gagged or unconscious, it amounts to the same thing. And I do like the idea of an observer."

Brown thought this over. He wanted to kill Vecchio. Killing the dark haired, blue eyed strangers over the last few months had been interesting and fulfilling. But with Wilson, there was no spontaneity. They had to kill them in a specific manner and order. He longed to just reach in his pocket and blow Vecchio's head off, suddenly and unexpectedly. He wanted to see the shock on Vecchio's face. Then turn and see the terror on Fraser's.

But, then, Wilson would be disappointed. And since he did most of the bathing and general cleaning of the victim's and their remains, he thought he should let the doctor have his fun. If he was honest with himself, Brown had to admit he liked the idea too.

"All right," he relented, "we'll take them both to the diner. You got anything in your doctor bag that'll knock 'em out?"

"If they're unconscious, they can't anticipate." Cambridge reminded him.

"They can't escape either. Come on, I'm giving you everything else. Knock them out so we can move 'em."

Cambridge agreed reluctantly. He left through the opening in the wall, choosing to take the labyrinth rather than the stairs. He left his bag by the window in the main apartment. He was sorry to be leaving this place. Hard work had led to fond memories in this building. He sighed to himself as he emerged from the wall.

Ray Kowalski grabbed him by the throat and clamped a hand over his mouth. Cambridge struggled momentarily then went slack in his arms. Ray almost dropped him from the sudden dead weight but Lois snapped handcuffs on him, then helped Ray lower him to the ground. She replaced Ray's hand with tape over the doctor's mouth while Ray whispered to him.

"Not a sound or I'll crack your skull." Lois nodded at Kowalski and they lifted the doctor to his feet. She took him by the arm, keeping her gun pressed tightly into the back of his neck.

"I'm a woman, they'll assume self defense no matter what. Just walk with me quietly and you'll make it to a nice judge who will no doubt discover you're insane. Come on now." The doctor allowed her to take him. She moved carefully down the steps so Brown would hear one set of feet and assume Cambridge was taking the regular route to the cellar.

Kowalski waited until they reached the stairs before he started his descent through the labyrinth of false walls. He wore soft sneakers and walked with care. The building had an alarming echo and he didn't want to be announced.

When he pulled away from the curb earlier, he drove around the block. Lois watched them circle with a growing nervousness until he explained. They had driven the block twice already and never saw Brown's car. They were looking for a car. They didn't see one. So, where was Brown parked? And besides, Ray asked, didn't he seem a bit too unconcerned about Fraser's disappearance. Fraser was his only real lead in the case. Even if he didn't care about Vecchio, he should have cared about Fraser.

In the cellar, Fraser heard the approaching footsteps. He knew Cambridge wore hard-bottomed shoes. The person coming through the walls was not Cambridge. So, he closed his eyes and started talking again, slightly louder this time to help cover the person's approach.

"White Fang had never seen dogs before, but at sight of them he felt that they were his own kind, only somehow different. But they displayed little difference from the wolf when they discovered the cub and mother. There was a rush. White Fang bristled and snarled and snapped in the face of the open-mouthed oncoming wave of dogs, and went down and under them, feeling the sharp slash of teeth in his body, himself biting and tearing at the legs..." A sharp blow to the belly cut him off in mid-sentence. Ben gasped, unable to do anything else. His eyes watered and his vision dimmed. Ray yelled, using expletives, Ben rarely heard. He wasn't sure he recognized all of them. Brown punched Ray in the jaw, sending his head snapping backward and drawing blood.

"Both of you, shut up!" He yelled. In the same instant, Kowalski rolled out of the opening in the wall. He came to his feet with his weapon drawn in one smooth motion. Brown started to go for his gun but Kowalski warned him off and the man stopped.

"Down on your knees! Down on your knees!" Kowalski yelled. The man sunk slowly.

"Hands behind your head!" He obeyed and a few moments later, he was handcuffed and lying on his stomach. Kowalski untied Ray first. Vecchio didn't know what to say about the rescue so he mumbled while Kowalski handed him his gun.

He went to Fraser, blinking back tears at seeing his friend in this condition. He reached up for all his height would allow and untied one hand. It was difficult to hold him and untie the other hand so Ray supported Fraser and watched Brown while Kowalski finished releasing him. Ben nearly took them both down when his legs gave out entirely but Ray managed to keep his feet. Kowalski staggered under him for a moment then straightened enough to support him.

"Cambridge?" Ray asked.

"Sergeant Evans is holding him outside."

"I'd feel better if we were all in the same place."

"I, as well." Fraser said.

Kowalski walked with Ben while Ray prodded Brown along. They emerged into the cool night air. Ben shivered. He looked towards Kowalski's car. They did not see Lois or the doctor.

"Oh, no." Kowalski muttered.

"I'm all right, go ahead." Ben said, then sunk to the tenement steps, leaning over his knees and trying to hold in body heat.

Ray watched anxiously, fearing the worst, but Kowalski waved, then helped Lois out of the car. She was staggering and holding her head. Brown laughed.

An hour later, Fraser and Kowalski were sitting in the waiting area. Kowalski was trying to convince Fraser to let himself be checked out. Ben refused adamantly. Vecchio walked out of an examination room followed by a young, female doctor. His lip was cut and swollen and a small, round bruise colored the right side of his chin.

Captain Unwin and two other officers jumped up when they saw the doctor. She shook hands with the captain and nodded at all of the other men. The only one to remain sitting was Fraser and from the looks of him, she thought that was wise.

"Sergeant Evans is going to be fine. She took a nasty blow on the head but it's just a mild concussion. I'll be happy to release her if she has someone to look after her."

"Her sister'll do that." Unwin responded. "She's driving in from Elmira and I'll stay with Lois until she gets here."

"That'll be fine. I'd like to keep her for another half hour just to see how she does with the pain medication I gave her, then assuming she responds well, you can take her home."

"Can she give a statement?" Kowalski asked.

"I'll get her statement." Unwin responded with a growl.

Kowalski watched him go, not really surprised by his hostility but not really expecting it either. Vecchio watched too. He liked Lois. He wished he could go see her but judging from the attitude of the locals, he decided he better not try.

"Hey, Vecchio." Ray turned around to find Agents Price and Fisher approaching him. He walked forward to meet them.

"Brown's in custody." Price said. "He's not talking yet but he's a cop, he'll wanna play 'Let's Make A Deal'. How's your mouth?"

"Loud." Ray joked, then more seriously, "a couple stitches on the inside. Nothing serious."

"I'm sorry about Brown, Vecchio, I've been working with him for over five years. I never would have guessed it."

"No way you could know."

"How's the Mountie?"

"Shaken up. It was his doctor, for God's Sake. He should get checked out now, but he won't do it."

"We were hard on him." Price said, "Brown and I. It's the way Michael wanted to play it. He said we should try to shake him up, keep him off balance so he'd try to remember more. It was a rotten thing to do to the victim."

"Yea, it was. Maybe you should remember that next time, huh?"

"How's Lois?" Fisher asked, speaking for the first time and remembering how helpful she'd been during this mess.

"Mild concussion. She'll be fine."

"She give a statement yet?"

"No, Unwin's with her now."

"You know how the doctor got away?"

"It's sketchy, but, apparently he rammed her into the car with his body. She lost her balance and hit her head."

"So, he's still handcuffed and running around the city?"

"Unless he's got friends. And they still haven't found my rental so maybe he's driving now."

"Vecchio." Ray turned towards Kowalski's voice, "Let's get back to the hotel, huh." Kowalski indicated Fraser who was looking bad.

"Yea, good idea." He answered, then turned back to the agents, "We're leaving in the morning. Leaving it up to you to find Cambridge."

"We'll find him. I still think Michael'll roll over on him. Besides, he's probably on foot and handcuffed and we put pictures all over the news. All the city exits are locked down so we have a good chance of catching him." Price said.

Ray shook hands with the two agents. Fraser stood up slowly but did not want assistance. The three men walked out to Kowalski's rental, then drove to the hotel. Ben climbed in the back seat wordlessly and closed his eyes. The two Rays had nothing to talk about so the trip was silent.

When they reached the hotel, Ray started in the direction of his room but Kowalski stopped him. He explained he called from the hospital and traded Vecchio's room for a suite the three could share. With Cambridge still at large, he thought they should stay together. Ray couldn't argue with that.

The suite turned out to be two bedrooms, a livingroom and a small kitchenette. One bedroom contained a king-size bed. The second room contained two full size beds. Televisions filled both bedrooms and the livingroom. Vecchio's suitcases had been neatly packed and left on the inside of the door.

Ben remained silent as he looked around the suite. Knowing it would be rude to take the main bedroom without discussing it and not wanting to discuss anything he went to the second room. Vecchio suggested he take a shower. Ben nodded with a sigh and a few moments later, they heard the water start.

Kowalski pulled a chair out at the kitchen table. Vecchio sat across from him. The two men avoided each other awkwardly for a couple of minutes until Kowalski broke the silence.

"How long's he been like that?"

"This is the worst I've seen. He's been a little introverted, a little quiet since the initial rescue but not like this."

"Wha'd they do to 'im?"

"A lot. He was beaten pretty seriously, dehydrated, half starved. They, uh, kept him tied up and blindfolded the whole time. Damn it!" Ray said, standing, "I knew he didn't like Cambridge, but I never thought.... I should've known, the signs were there."

"No point in beatin' yerself up, Vecchio. Stuff like that's always real obvious after you figure it out."

"No, no. I didn't suspect Brown, I didn't suspect Cambridge. What the hell was I doin' here?"

"No one saw it. The FBI couldn't tell Brown was nuts, how were you s'pose to? Even Fraser couldn't tell and you know, he's got like, radar most uh the time."

"I let him down, ya know. I told him I'd protect him."

"Forget it, he doesn't want people takin' care of 'im. He's all Mr. Independent snow guy. When we were traipsin' around Canada last year, he barely showed me how to run the dogs cuz he had t'be the one in control."

"Well, somebody has to watch him." Vecchio said defensively, "He's too weak to look out for himself. And now I don't think he's got any confidence left. Ya know he blames himself for getting caught in the first place. He kept saying he should've anticipated it."

"That ain't right."

"That's what I said."

"Well, then, we'll keep tellin' im till he believes us. He's tired right now. Prob'ly havin' trouble making sense of everything. He'll get well, he'll go back to work and it'll fall back into place."

"What makes you think so?"

"I don't know, cause Fraser ain't the type to wallow for long."

Ray Vecchio studied Ray Kowalski until Kowalski shifted uncomfortably. He did not like this man. He had not liked him from the first day they met. And the feeling was extremely mutual. Yet, here they were, having a civilized conversation. Kowalski wasn't blaming him for losing Fraser in the first place or letting them both get taken the second time. He wasn't blaming him for not recognizing Brown and Cambridge for the psychopaths they were. In fact, he almost sounded supportive. He also sounded like he knew Fraser. Maybe he knew him better than Ray.

"Stop starin' at me like that." Kowalski said.

"Sorry." Ray answered, laughing a little.

"You hungry or what?"

"Tired, I think. It's almost morning."

"Yea, all right," Kowalski answered, "Why don't you take the single room and I'll bunk with Fraser. You both oughtuh get some rest."

"We're gonna need a flight tomorrow."

"I'll make the reservations an' everything. You look like hell." Ray made it to the bedroom door before he turned around.

"You did a good job tonight, uh, Ray."

"Oh, jeez, don't start that up, it's confusin' enough. Stick with Kowalski, all right?" Ray nodded with an amused smile before he shut the door behind him.

The water finally stopped. Ray Kowalski had not realized how long Ben stayed in the shower until the noise stopped. He glanced at his watch. At least forty-five minutes passed since they settled into the hotel. He waited another twenty minutes watching the television with the volume turned off. When his eyes gave way, he decided to go to bed.

Standing in the shower, Ben's mind replayed the sound of Ray falling when Brown struck him in the hospital garage. He had turned to find a gun pointing at him. Brown ordered him to put his hands behind his back, then handcuffed him. He was hoping his heart was not beating too loudly to be heard. He wanted to check on Ray but was shoved inside the car instead. He was forced to lay on his stomach across the front seat while Brown used a second pair of handcuffs to attach him to the steering wheel. He could hear the movement outside. Ray being dragged to the back of the car, the trunk being opened. Brown grunted as he dumped the detective inside and slammed the hood down. Then he returned to Fraser. He released him from the steering wheel and shoved into the passenger side.

Ben had thought through his options at the time. If he made Brown crash the car with some sudden action, Ray could be killed. If he tried to fight him with no hands, then he would likely be killed and Ray's death would follow. He decided to wait until they reached their destination. Once he was out of the vehicle, he would look for an opening. Unfortunately, Brown never gave him one. The man was an FBI agent, he knew how to maintain control of a prisoner. He walked him through the back entrance and down to the cellar, leaving Ray in the trunk. He shoved him to his knees while he unlocked his hands. The leather restraints were just above his head. He hesitated, fear and loathing keeping his hands to his sides. But, of course, Brown had Ray and the threat was soon made. Ben remembered thinking he must be in a nightmare as his wrists were sealed. Then Brown used the pulley to lift him off the floor. Once the FBI agent was satisfied that Ben was secure, he retrieved an unconscious Ray.

Awhile later, when Agent Brown left to investigate a noise, the arrival of Ray Kowalski and Lois Evans as it turned out, Cambridge described his actions at the hospital. He prescribed painkillers but at a lower dose, asked for tests that were uncomfortable and generally not needed, using needles when pills or nothing would have sufficed. He explained how he deliberately planted doubts in Fraser's mind from the mock story of shoving the nurse to harping on his overall unpredictability. Additionally, he guilted Thatcher into leaving Ben in the hospital that extra night. He admitted he could not shake Vecchio. Ray wanted Ben out of the hospital and the moment he believed Ben was ready, he did not hesitate. But, with all of his other plans in motion, Ray was not a great obstacle.

He also admitted that they hadn't intend to release Ben when Ray found him after the initial abduction. They intended to leave him in an alley like the others except Ben would be alive. Ray figured out their hideout and would have discovered Cambridge at the scene if he arrived ten minutes earlier. But, of course, Ray's call to Agent Brown for backup allowed Brown to alert him in time.

Ben leaned against the shower wall, letting the water cascade over his head and face. It took a long time to stop shaking. Finally, he turned the knob and stepped out. He dried off and put on a clean pair of sweats and a T-shirt. He couldn't seem to shake the chill in his body as he curled up in the bed, pulling the covers tightly to his chest. Most of the bandages had been removed except for a couple of deep welts on his back and hip. He was itchy from the healing and achy all over.

Fraser was lying on his side, breathing steadily when Kowalski entered the bedroom. His white T-shirt and pale arms shown above the covers. Ray watched him for a few moments wondering what could be going on in that Canadian mind. He stripped down to boxer shorts and a T-shirt and climbed into bed.

He took a few moments to review the evening before sleep finally took over. Something about Ray Vecchio still annoyed him and his compliment confused him. But, he could not deny Vecchio's loyalty to Fraser or Fraser's loyalty to him. That had to say something about the man's character.

A few hours later, with the sun fully up at ten in the morning, Kowalski woke up. Fraser had turned on his stomach and faced him with eyes closed, still sleeping soundly. Ray rose quickly. His usual energy kicking in with the first breaths of day. He used the bathroom, then headed to the kitchen to make coffee. He was surprised to find Vecchio sitting at the table reading a newspaper. The slender man looked up from his reading and greeted him. He looked better than last night though the bruise on his chin had turned a dark purple.

Kowalski made coffee and flipped on the television. A news report flashed pictures of Agent Brown being led from the police station into a van. Kowalski recognized the other agents flanking him as those who came to the hospital last night. Photos of Dr. Cambridge appeared next. He turned up the volume to see if he had been caught yet but the news reported they were still looking.

The next picture was of Lois Evans reporting her condition as good and then file photos of Vecchio and Fraser appeared together. Ray zapped the mute button, not wanting Fraser to know he was blazoned across the television. He exchanged a look with Vecchio that clearly said they agreed on this issue.

Both men noticed too late that Ben was standing in the doorway of the bedroom staring at the screen. Vecchio noticed him first and rolled his eyes. Kowalski heard the door shut and turned around.

"He saw it?" Kowalski asked. Vecchio nodded. Kowalski tossed the remote on to the couch and followed Ben into the bedroom.

Ben was half dressed in blue jeans and long sleeved white undershirt. His feet were bare and he was holding a gray, short-sleeved T-shirt. He pulled it over his head with only a glance at Ray. Then he sat down and started pulling on thick white socks, followed by a pair of sneakers that did not look like they belonged to him.

"Sneakers, Frase?"

"I only had my RCMP boots that are now gone." He said, "Ray's friend, Lois, lent them to him to give to me."

"Makes sense, can't have you running around upstate New York with no shoes."

"Yes, well, this adventure has cost me a hat, a uniform and a pair of boots."

"You'll be lucky if Thatcher doesn't dock yer pay." Ray kidded him. Ben finished tying the sneakers without comment. "You hungry?"

"I'll get something while I'm out. I'm going for a walk."

"I'll go with ya, ya know, company."

"I appreciate that, Ray, but I would like some time alone, if you don't mind."

"Well, actually, I kinduh do, cause they haven't caught Cambridge yet so I don't really like the idea of you being out alone."

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Ray. Isn't that obvious from the last week or so?" He added bitterly. Ray ignored his tone.

"Yea, I know ya can. But, hey, we don't do anything without backup, comes with the badge."

"I don't specifically have a badge, Ray. And I would rather go alone."

"You know, yer still kinduh..."

"I would rather you not finish that sentence, if you don't mind. I appreciate your concern, Ray, and your rescue last night. I am taking nothing away from that. You came here to help and I am most grateful, however, I am capable of looking after myself and all I am doing is going for a walk. If you'll tell me when our flight is, I'll return in plenty of time."

"We haven't called yet." Ben sighed.

"Then I'll check in."

"Fraser..."

"Ray, I'm fine. I just need a few moments to sort some things out."

"Vecchio won't like it."

"No, but, he'll respect my choice just as you are."

Ben led the way into the living room. He wished Ray a good morning and left without another word. Kowalski watched the door close with his hands in his pockets.

"Where's he going?" Vecchio asked.

"For a walk."

"Alone?"

"He wants it that way." Vecchio scowled at him.

Ben found his way to Market Street from the hotel. Market Street was the main street of the city. It contained most of its shops, restaurants and bars. He watched the locals busily filling the walks as they made their way to work and to breakfast. Obvious tourists took pictures of each other in front of a small museum and near the statues surrounding it. He observed as he always observed, realizing there was a part of him that could not stop recording the scenes around him. But, the process was unconscious. He found himself lost in his own thoughts as much as caught up in the life of this small town.

He shivered slightly thinking absently that he wished he grabbed a jacket. Winter faded into memory only a few weeks before and spring had yet to make a full appearance. The morning was chilly. The ground was still damp and half-frozen from snow and ice.

His mind flashed on the picture of himself from the news cast. He was looking very serious and official in his red serge. He remembered the photo from his official file. He remembered having the photo taken and trying hard to look like a distinguished member of the RCMP. No one who saw that news cast would associate that man with the one walking down their street. People generally only saw uniforms when a uniform was the attire. They tended not to see the person inside. The photo was also several years old. He knew he had not changed much but he certainly had changed enough.

So, he wasn't exactly bothered by the news cast. Except that he was bothered by it. Here he was, a victim once more and now it was heralded to all the world. But, what did that mean exactly? He generally felt sympathy for crime victims. He never blamed them for whatever deed was perpetrated on them. Victims were victims. Usually, they were random bystanders who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. When evil visited, most people were helpless to stop or escape it. Why should he think less of himself when he never considered it weakness in others?

He had to admit, the lecture Ray Vecchio gave him did alleviate a lot of those feelings. And he thought he was beginning to see that while he walked headfirst into a trap, the trap was well concealed.

So, was he still feeling guilt? No, not really, came the response from some corner of his mind. Not guilt, not anymore. Then what?

Fear, came the answer. Fear and helplessness. Even with Ray by his side last night, they could not prevent the second abduction. If Ray Kowalski did not happen to arrive in town at just the right time, no one would have found them. No one would have been looking for at least twelve hours and probably longer than that. A chance, a moment of luck is all that saved them. He shuddered when he thought about the plans Brown and Cambridge had for him. He had an uncomfortable feeling that the beatings of the first abduction would not compare to the plans for the second one.

And he was helpless to stop it. They could have done anything they wanted and he would have been left to simply endure it until death came.

Ben knew better than to 'what if'. How many times had he been shot at? How many fights had he been in? How many near misses that through luck or happenstance, he survived? This was no different.

Except, in a sense, he expected to die from a bullet or a well placed blow to the head or a fall from a building. His life dictated that sooner or later, one of these things was likely to happen. He expected to die suddenly, without prior knowledge, not asleep in bed, but, not...

There it was, he realized. Being captured and left to the mercy of those with no mercy in them, was like being given a death sentence. It was like going to the doctor and being told you have a month to live. A month of agony and despair to fill until your life winks out like a firefly at dawn. And that frightened him more than any bullet or knife. He thought he could face anything, but could he face that?

The corner of his mind spoke again. He had faced it. The first time, being locked in the closet, so close to death, he had faced it. He felt his life ebbing away. He felt the cool sweat as he anticipated another session in the cement room. He knew he was dying and he accepted it. He knew the pain that was coming and he accepted it as well. He had no choice. The fear remained present and loud and commanding but there was a sense of knowing that led to a small sense of peace. In the end, when his body finally gave out, he knew he would have won their battle. They couldn't take his life. He would only give in to death and not to them. In that sense, he retained all of the control.

So, what did it mean? That he was afraid but it was a healthy fear? That he could lose control of what happened to his body but still retain control of his essence or his soul? That whatever almost happened, whatever did happen, he was the same person and he could still trust himself?

Or was trust a different issue?

He spent weeks working with Agent Brown. He never saw madness. But, he could forgive himself for that. He and Brown worked together in the midst of thirty other officers. Even his closest associates never saw past his façade so how could he? But, Cambridge was another matter.

He saw madness in Cambridge. He felt it when he was near him. He felt it when Cambridge kidded him about "tying him down" or "drugging him". He felt it during the examinations that were terribly painful during the first couple of days. He shuddered. A doctor has an intimate knowledge of a patient's body. Knowing Cambridge had beaten him first, then treated him was nauseating. Looking back, a part of him did know that Cambridge was one of them. He smelled like one of them. He felt like one of them. His body recoiled from him instinctively but for some reason, his mind never caught up with his instincts. He had never been blinded like that before and it shook his confidence.

Being governed by logic and deduction never interfered with his inherent skill at reading people. He knew he had an exceptional gift for understanding the unspoken side of the people he met. It was disconcerting that this time, when it was so important, his gift failed him.

It was in the midst of this last doubt that Ben smelled pastries. His stomach growled embarrassingly loud. He looked down the street and found a small bakery. The Rays were probably hungry too, he thought as he walked towards it. He needed a few minutes to rest his mind. Self-analysis was exhausting and as his friends seemed too willing to point out, he was still physically weak.

He paid for a bag of croissants, cream cheese and donuts, then munched on one of the pastries while he walked back to the hotel. He didn't like eating this way, his grandmother would call it uncivilized, but he was too hungry to wait. Hospital food and no food were all he could remember recently so he ate and tried not to feel conspicuous.

Ben's thoughts returned to Cambridge. He could honestly say that he was not afraid of the man. Out here in the world, he seemed harmless. Well, not harmless, he was a sadist and a killer, so definitely, he was not harmless. But, Ben did not feel threatened by him any longer. He supposed the not knowing was as frightening as any part of his ordeal. Being blindfolded during the first abduction had given his captors an unreal and horrendous shape in his mind. He likened it to the monster in the closet he feared as a boy. The monster turned out to be a small mouse that had become trapped and scratched incessantly at the walls, trying to escape. The creature had an annoying habit of being very quiet when Ben's mother came to his room to see what the boy was crying about. It took nearly a week before his mother emptied the closet and found the half-starved rodent circling in a daze of panic and confusion. She captured it with the lure of food, then dispatched back to the wild while Ben tried to reconcile this tiny mouse with the monster he was certain would emerge some night and devour him.

While Brown and Cambridge were not harmless mice, they were an enemy he could fight once he saw them. At least he could fight them now that he was free of them. He didn't like thinking of the night before when he found comfort in knowing but terror in still being helpless to protect himself or Ray.

So, he questioned himself again, why had he allowed Cambridge such close access when he knew the man was one of his abductors? Because, he couldn't have known, his trusty mind corner answered. There was no way to distinguish between his fear and the truth. Cambridge may have given him all the signals but the signals were shrouded and he was in no condition to interpret them. Again, as Ray Vecchio pointed out, there is no way to predict an irrational act. Having Cambridge appoint himself as his doctor just to torment him further was as irrational and unexpected as any act is likely to be.

Ben sighed as he worked all of the demons out of his system. Being in the hospital, in a closed room, he could barely breathe so thinking was impossible. He had been desperate to leave there but everyone told him to remain. The doubts Cambridge planted in him served to imprison him. Being outside, alone, in the chill of the morning, he was able to think. He could clear the images of his imprisonment and rationalize his part.

He reached the hotel before he realized how far he had walked. He knocked on the door firmly and smiled. It felt good. Vecchio answered the door. The look on his face sent a chill through him.

"Come in, Constable." The voice inside the recesses of the room sounded like ice in his head. He stepped through the door while Ray shut it behind him.

After Ben left the hotel room, the Rays argued between themselves for several minutes. Vecchio thought they should follow him but Kowalski knew Ben would spot them. Vecchio also knew Ben would spot them but he was being stubborn. Finally, since they were accomplishing nothing with the argument, Vecchio decided to shower and dress. Kowalski was fine with that. He wanted to drink coffee, read the newspaper and call the airline. Despite their tentative truce last night, Vecchio was really starting to bug him.

The knock on the hotel room seemed to mock their argument. Fraser coming back so soon meant they had nothing to fight about. Kowalski set his cup on the table and opened the door. Before he could blink or duck or even register his error, a fist met him square in the stomach and was followed by another blow to the chin. Kowalski went down on his back. He pushed himself backward with a weak yell to Vecchio who probably could not hear him over the shower.

He didn't escape far before Dr. Cambridge buried a booted foot into his side with several vicious kicks. Kowalski curled into a ball, trying to protect himself while the doctor continued his assault. His vision started dimming while the pain intensified with every blow. Finally the doctor stepped back, gasping for breath, his eyes watering.

He took Kowalski by the back of his T-shirt and dragged him into the livingroom. He pulled a set of handcuffs out of his pocket. They used to belong to Lois Evans. They were the same set that imprisoned him the night before. He secured Kowalski's wrists behind his back. Ray was only half-conscious when the doctor dragged him to his knees. This hurt his chest and stomach, a lot, but when he tried to lie down, Cambridge dragged him up again and followed with a knee to his back.

Once he was satisfied that Kowalski was in the position he wanted, Cambridge called to Vecchio. At first there was no response, then the water in the shower turned off. Cambridge called again. This time Vecchio heard but he thought it was Kowalski. He came out of the bedroom wearing camel colored pants and a half-unbuttoned and untucked button down shirt. He was complaining about having to dress so quickly when Cambridge pressed his gun into Kowalski's skull.

Ray froze in the doorway. He put his hands up slowly, not above his head, just in front of him to show he was not a threat. The doctor told him to sit down at the table and wait. Ray eased backward. Kowalski was breathing raggedly and he was fighting to keep his head up.

Ray Vecchio stood at Ben's side stiffly. The lines in his face were drawn back tight.

On his knees, with his hands behind his back, Ray Kowalski still had a gun pressed against his skull. He had come to terms with his beating and was looking up at his companions, bruised and bleeding. Cambridge held the weapon still for a moment, then crashed it into the young detective's head crumbling him in an instant.

Ben lunged forward a step before the gun was leveled at him again. He stopped, swallowed and set breakfast on the table beside him.

"What do you want?" He asked coolly.

"What I've wanted for weeks, Constable. I want you. You weren't meant to be the last but with Michael in jail, I guess you'll have to be."

"Then we should go." He answered evenly. Ray put his hand on his arm.

"Well, we should. I know we should." Cambridge said, "But then I think, we do have two of your friends here. I'll bet you'd do anything to protect either one. Even go with me."

"Yes, I'll go with you. Right now, we'll go."

"No," Vecchio said, "that is not going to happen."

"But, I could kill one of them, couldn't I? You'd still come with me to protect the one that's left."

"If you fire that weapon, you won't leave here. There's witnesses, police..." Ben said.

"Who says I'd use the gun?" Cambridge asked with a sly smile.

"There's no need to kill anyone. I said I'd go with you."

"It's not need, Constable. It's want. But, I think it's only fair that you choose which one. Think carefully before you answer."

"No." Ben said, walking forward. "You are not going to kill either."

"Stop where you are." Cambridge said. Ben continued walking straight at him. Cambridge turned the gun on Kowalski. "Stop." Ben hesitated. There was only two feet between them now.

Ben lunged suddenly taking the doctor down at the waist. The gun discharged wildly. Vecchio joined in the fray and soon they had Cambridge subdued. Ray had to retrieve his handcuffs from the bedroom while Ben held the doctor. He returned and clamped them tightly on the doctor's wrists.

Ben went to Kowalski. He was lying on his stomach. Ben turned him gently and looked into his unfocused eyes. Gradually, they started tracking until they landed on Ben's face.

"Are you all right?" Fraser asked.

"Yea, I'm good." Kowalski answered before he passed out again.

The two Chicago detectives and the Canadian Mountie spent two more days in the small town. Kowalski spent half of the first day in emergency. He was released into the custody of his companions with a prescription for painkillers and a strict warning to rest. Bruised ribs and back and a mild concussion kept him in bed for the next day and a half.

Finally, all three were too anxious to wait anymore. The town they were in was beautiful and quaint but it held nothing but nightmares for them. Vecchio drove Kowalski's rental car to the airport. They gave their bags to the airport staff and checked in. While they waited for their boarding call, Vecchio pointed up to the television monitor. The same photos of Fraser and Vecchio were displayed with a strip of text beneath it that said 'Heroes'. Kowalski frowned.

"And what am I?" He said.

"Unconscious as I recall." Vecchio answered, kidding him.

Fraser was embarrassed by the photo and the label. He smiled at his friends though. It was nice to see them getting along. Perhaps they could spend time together in a group now instead of him having to split his time with each of them.

He fought off a shiver when someone crowded past him. While his various welts and bruises were healing sufficiently, he didn't like being touched at the moment. It wasn't exactly pain, just an odd discomfort, almost like a chill. Kowalski caught him staring after the stranger and bumped into him playfully. Ben smiled at him, glad for the distraction.

Vecchio was dialing his cell phone. After a couple moments, Ben heard him ask for Lois Evans. He spent the last few minutes before their flight was called talking to her. When he hung up, he announced that she was going back to work the next day. Kowalski smiled at the news. He was still feeling guilty about leaving her alone with Cambridge.

When their flight was announced, Ben took a deep breath. While he didn't exactly consider Chicago his home, he was more than anxious to return there. The Rays started arguing as soon as they realized that both of them wanted the aisle seat. Ben just shook his head. Perhaps they weren't quite ready to be friends yet.