Revenge - Part 3 of 5 For disclaimers, see part 1 ********************************* After hours of fruitless searching, Duncan finally headed home. No matter who he talked to, no one had seen Richie. He'd even taken to driving around, hoping to be able to sense the pre-Immortal. He'd stuck to the warehouse district, knowing that Immortals liked to use them for their battles. A part of him knew it was a slim chance, at best - a pre- Immortal barely gave out a signal. He could easily drive by a building and never know Richie was inside. Still, if another Immortal was involved, he'd be able to feel him from a greater distance. Tessa was in the kitchen when he came in. He had checked in with her several times that day, and knew she'd had no luck in finding any information, either. She took one look at his face, then turned away quickly. Before he had a chance to say anything, she sighed before opening the oven door to slide out a casserole dish. "You're just in time for dinner," she said with a forced cheerfulness. She carried it over to the table, then fetched a bowl of salad from the refrigerator. "Come and eat - we can talk afterward." Duncan quickly washed his hands, then joined her at the table. He didn't have much of an appetite, but he forced himself to eat. Neither of them said much during the meal, and Richie's empty seat seemed to draw their attention, time and time again. After they had cleaned up after dinner, Duncan went over to the liquor cabinet, and poured out two drinks. He handed one to Tessa, then sat down on the couch beside her. She stared down at the drink, then looked up into the Scot's face. "Am I going to need this? Did you find out what happened to Richie?" Duncan shook his head. "No, I didn't." He sighed, not wishing to say the words, but knew they were necessary. "It's too early to give up, Tessa, but you have to keep in mind that we may never find out what happened to Richie. Whoever went to all this effort is probably smart enough to not leave any evidence behind." Tessa sipped at her drink before answering. "I guess I knew that, but I didn't want to face it." She paused for a moment and took another sip. "I still don't want to face it." "Neither do I, but we may have to. I don't know where else to look for him, Tessa. Whoever took him didn't leave any clues behind." "What about the photos? The receipts? Maybe we can find out who is behind all of this." Duncan thought about it for a few moments. "It's a long shot, but all we have. I'll check into it tomorrow." Tessa sighed, and leaned up against Duncan. "I just want this to be all over. I want Richie to come bursting through the door, just like he always does. I want to be able to scold him about it, even though I know it won't do any good. I want Richie back in our lives!" Duncan hugged her tightly. "So do I. And I'll do everything in my power to see that it happens," he promised, even as he wondered how he would do it. ***** A light slap across his face woke Richie. He looked around in confusion for a moment before his eyes settled on his kidnapper. "Wakey, wakey," the man said with an evil smile. "Wouldn't want you to miss a moment of this." Richie tried to get enough moisture in his mouth to lick his dry lips. "What do you want now?" he managed to croak out. "A little thirsty, hmmmm?" He held out a bottle of water. "Maybe some water would make you feel better." Richie licked his lips again, then nodded slowly. He couldn't believe the man was going to actually give him some water, but he hoped it was true. "Oh, it looks like you've had a little accident and wet your bed," he said. "Guess I'll have to restrict your fluid intake." He opened the bottle, then tipped it enough so the water would start flowing. However, he held it just out of Richie's reach. With a moan, Richie strained forward, trying to capture any of the liquid that was flowing right in front of his eyes. The man laughed uproariously at the sight. Fortunately for the teenager, that caused the bottle to shake a little, and some of the water splashed onto his face. It wasn't much, but it helped some. "Feel better?" the man taunted. "Go to hell!" Richie forced out. "Until tomorrow." The man threw the bottle away, then left. Richie stared at the puddle of water on the floor. It was another new torture to add to the list. He'd already soiled his jeans, and the stench was almost overwhelming. Plus, sitting in feces and urine-soaked underwear was causing his skin to burn. It was hard to believe it had only been about thirty-six hours since he'd been brought here. It felt more like an eternity. He wondered what Duncan and Tessa were doing. Had Tessa moved back home? They must have realized he was missing by now. They were probably scouring the city, looking for him. Or maybe they'd already given up. No, he wouldn't believe that. They were too stubborn to give up so easily. And maybe, just maybe, Duncan would remember this warehouse, and come check it out. He had to keep hoping, otherwise he was afraid that he would give up. With grim determination, he went back to work on the ropes around his wrists. ***** Duncan wearily let himself into the apartment. It had been another day of no information. No one remembered who had bought the watch, or who had registered at the hotel. He couldn't really blame them. They probably didn't even remember who the customers were from the day before, let alone several weeks ago. The photos had been a dead end as well. There was nothing that unusual about them to cause anyone to remember developing them, let alone to remember who picked them up. It was hard to do, but he had to admit he didn't know what to do next. Richie had been missing for at least forty-eight hours, and there was probably little chance that he was still alive. He just wasn't quite ready to give up yet. Tessa was sitting in the living room, staring into the fireplace. When she heard him come in, she got up and poured him a drink. He sank down into a chair in front of the fireplace, and drained the glass. "I've kept your dinner warm," she said. "I'll bring it in here." He grabbed her hand as she went by, and kissed her palm. At times he wondered what he had ever done to deserve her love. She smiled down at him, then went to fetch his dinner. He ate quickly, having skipped lunch because he'd been more interested in finding Richie than in eating. With his stomach full, it made it easier to talk. "I don't know what to do next, Tessa," he admitted, still finding it hard to actually say the words. She came over and sat down on the arm of the chair, wrapping her arms around him, and resting her head on his. "It's not your fault, Duncan. You've done your best, but even you can't do the impossible." "I should never have let the two of you leave. I should have kept you here where I could protect you." He clenched his fists tightly. "I should have known better!" "If that was the case, then we both share the guilt! We discussed what to do, and we decided - together - on how to handle this. Neither of us had any reason to think that Richie was the target. It's too easy to look back and say we should have known better, but we didn't! If we let it, the guilt would eat us up. And Richie wouldn't want that - I know he wouldn't!" Duncan sighed, and rubbed the arm wrapped around his chest. "No, he wouldn't want that. Richie would be the first one to tell us it wasn't our fault. It's just so hard..." "I know." She kissed his cheek. "Maybe we should call the police tomorrow. I don't think it will help, but it can't hurt, can it?" Duncan didn't know how to answer that. Avoiding police involvement was so deeply ingrained within him, that it was hard to even consider contacting them. If another Immortal had taken Richie, then he shouldn't even involve the police at all. On the other hand, it might look strange if Richie's body was found, and they hadn't reported him as missing. "I'll call them. Tomorrow," he promised. ***** Richie was awake the next morning when his tormentor showed up. He'd long since run out of energy, and had given up on the ropes. He was having trouble concentrating, but couldn't seem to sleep because of the aching pain in his stomach, and the dryness in his mouth and throat. When the man held out the bottle of water, the teenager just turned his head away. It was a small act of defiance, but he felt better by doing it. Somewhat to his surprise, the man held the bottle to Richie's lips and let a small amount of water flow into his mouth. The teenager savored the moisture, swishing it around in his mouth before swallowing. Again, the bottle was put to his lips and he was allowed to drink a small amount. He licked his lips, trying to ease the dried, cracked skin. For a third time, the bottle of water was brought to his lips, and he was given a few more swallows. Richie finally looked up at the man, and rasped out, "Why?" "It's quite simple, really. You'd die of thirst, before you died of starvation. I want you to suffer for as long as possible." "Bastard!" "I'll tell you what. You sign a confession stating that you killed my brother, and I'll end your suffering. Immediately. Otherwise, you'll have days of agony to look forward to." For a moment, Richie was tempted. The water had made the gnawing pain in his stomach even worse. The thought of this continuing on for days was frightening. Still, he couldn't do it. He wasn't going to confess to something he didn't do. For all he knew, the man would turn the signed confession over to the police instead of killing him outright. Then Richie would spend the rest of his life in prison. Somehow, death seemed better than that. "Well, maybe you'll change your mind." With those words, the man turned and left. Richie tried to let his mind drift away, but the pain in his stomach kept him anchored to reality. He kept reliving the feeling of water flowing over his dry, parched mouth, and down his throat. He wanted more. And it was right there in front of him. The man had left the bottle behind, and there was still some water in it. Carefully, Richie stretched his legs out, knowing he should be able to reach it. Inch by slow inch, he dragged it across the floor using his feet. It was almost close enough to reach when it suddenly tipped over, spilling the water. It was too much. Richie broke into sobs, tears running down his face. He couldn't seem to stop. He was just glad his tormentor wasn't there to see his breakdown. How the man would have enjoyed this. It took a while before his sobbing ended. Exhausted, his head hung down on his chest, and he let himself drift away. ***** Duncan had just returned from the police station, and was in the antique store office staring off into space when the phone rang. When he answered it, he was surprised to hear a female voice ask for Richie. "He's not here right now," he replied, not willing to tell anyone else that he was missing. "Can I take a message?" "Is this Mr. MacLeod?" "Yes." "Uhhh... This is Angie - you know, Richie's friend?" "I remember. How are you, Angie?" "Ummm... Fine. Look, I wouldn't have called, but uhhhh... Tessa called me yesterday and wanted to know if anyone had been asking about Richie. Is he in some kind of trouble?" "I don't know, Angie." For the first time since Richie had disappeared, Duncan felt his hope rising. "Has someone been asking about him?" "Well, not to me, but I ran into Forks last night, and he said some Chinese dude was asking about Richie and Chu Lin, and what happened that day in the warehouse.... uhhhhh... you do know about that day, right?" "Yes, I know about that day. I'll check it out, Angie. Thanks for calling." He hung up, and surged to his feet, suddenly energized now that he had some possible information about Richie. He hurried out to the store and found Tessa, who was arranging some of the displays. "I may have a lead, Tessa. I'm going to check it out. I'll keep in touch." "Good luck, Duncan," she said, crossing her fingers and holding them up in the air. The Scot almost ran to the T-bird. He would check out the warehouse where Chu Lin had been killed. He knew there was a chance that all he might find was Richie's body, but even that would be better than not knowing. There was even the possibility that another Immortal wasn't involved. Although why someone would kidnap Richie because of Chu Lin was beyond his comprehension. ***** A tantalizing smell brought Richie back to reality. Looking up, he saw his tormentor waving a cheeseburger in front of his face. The teenager knew it was the next step in his torture, but that didn't stop his mouth from watering and his stomach from growling. "Are you ready to sign that confession, yet? You could have this cheeseburger if you did." Richie slowly shook his head, closing his eyes to avoid looking at the food that was being held so temptingly in front of his face. Still, he could smell it. He summoned all the energy he could, and kicked out with his foot. He felt it impact something, but didn't bother opening his eyes to see what. A sudden blow across his face sent his head snapping back against the girder. He groaned at the pain and finally opened his eyes. The man was standing over him, looking very angry. He saw the second back-handed swing headed for his face, but there was no way to avoid it. Once again, his head snapped back, but at least he didn't bang it into the girder this time. "I'll give you this much, kid. You have more spunk than I thought you would. I think I'm going to enjoy watching you suffer." "I don't think so." Richie almost couldn't believe his ears. Or his eyes. Was Duncan really standing there, or was it just a delusion caused by lack of food and water? Or maybe from a concussion? "You want to explain what you're doing?" Duncan said, as he stalked closer to the pair. A quick glance at Richie revealed no obvious wounds so he could concentrate on the other man. "It's none of your business - just walk away and you won't get hurt." "He's my friend, so it *is* my business." "Well, then you picked the wrong person to have as a friend." The man pulled out two short swords from his jacket. "Now your friend will have to watch you die." Duncan shrugged out of his coat, pulling his katana free at the same time. It gave him a brief moment of pleasure to see the man's eyes widen at the appearance of the katana. "Do you really want to do this?" he asked. "Are *you* ready to die?" The man hesitated for a moment, then attacked. While he was a good sword fighter, his skill level didn't even come close to matching that of a four-hundred-year-old Immortal. Duncan quickly disarmed him, then trapped him up against a crate with the katana at his neck. "Now then, back to my original question," Duncan said, trying to use a reasonable tone. "Explain yourself." "Go ahead and kill me!" the man blurted out. "Leave me here to die just like your *friend* left my brother here to die!" Duncan frowned. What was the man talking about? "Richie hasn't killed anyone that I know of." "Chu Lin," Richie managed to croak out. "Thinks I killed him." Duncan glanced over at his friend, hoping for more information, but the effort to say that much seemed to have exhausted Richie. He turned back to his captive. "You think *Richie* killed Chu Lin?" The man nodded slowly. "Well, you're wrong. I was here, too, and someone else killed him." "You're lying - trying to protect Ryan! I want my revenge!" "Revenge! This is all about revenge?" Duncan almost yelled. "Revenge is a never-ending cycle. Chu Lin stole a drug from his teacher, and gave it to one of Richie's friends, who died. Richie wanted revenge, so he came after Chu Lin, and almost got himself and another friend killed. His teacher wanted revenge, so he killed Chu Lin. Now, you're here to get your revenge. When will it end? When everyone in the world is dead?" Duncan had to pause for a moment to get his anger back under control. "And to make matters worse, you've gone after the wrong person!" "But Kiem Sun said..." "You were a fool to believe him. He's trying to get back at me - revenge again - for destroying his last supply of the drug he'd manufactured. He used you because he wasn't man enough to do it himself, and he figured you were stupid enough to fall for it!" Duncan pushed the man away. "Get out of my sight, and out of this town before I change my mind!" The man scrambled up from the floor and ran out of the warehouse without even picking up his swords. Duncan heard the slam of a car door, then the sound of an engine starting. He hoped the man would take his advice and leave town, but Richie was his first priority. He hurried over to the teenager, squatting down on the floor to cut the ropes binding Richie to the girder. He gently eased him down to the floor, then quickly examined him for injuries. Other than his wrists, and a small lump on the back of his head, there were no obvious wounds. Duncan lightly slapped Richie's face, calling Richie's name until the young man opened his eyes halfway. "Richie, are you hurt anywhere?" He didn't want to risk moving the young man too much until he was sure he wouldn't cause more harm. "Mac? Are you really here?" "Yes, Richie, I'm really here." Duncan didn't like the dazed look on the teenager's face. "What did he do to you?" "No food... no water..." Duncan could barely make out the whispered words, but anger flooded through him when he finally realized what Richie had said. He wished he hadn't let the other man go so easily. Three days without food and water. That was beyond cruelty. He carefully lifted Richie into his arms. "Take it easy, Rich. Let's get you to the hospital." The young man tried to struggle, but didn't have enough energy to make much of an effort. "Noooo," he moaned as Duncan started carrying him to the car. "Yes, you're going to the hospital! End of discussion." "Not like this. Please, Mac!" Richie whispered as a solitary tear rolled down his cheek. Duncan didn't understand what Richie's problem was, but there was no way he was going to change his mind. The teenager was going to the hospital - no matter what! But the closer he got to the car, the more agitated Richie became. And when he tried to place the teenager in the passenger seat, Richie almost threw himself out of the car. The Scot just barely caught him before he hit the ground. "Richie, what is going on?" he growled as he propped the young man up against the car. "You *have* to go the hospital. You *need* treatment." It was an obvious struggle to get the words out. "Need to clean up." Richie's hand waved toward his jeans. Duncan finally realized what was wrong. Richie was embarrassed because he had soiled his jeans. "Rich, that's nothing to be upset about. The doctors and nurses have definitely seen worse things. They will be able to help you clean up. Now, enough of this - are you ready to go?" "Blanket," Richie croaked, pointing at the leather seat of the T-bird. Duncan sighed, but he went to the trunk and pulled out a blanket he kept there in case of an emergency - such as a headless body that needed to be disposed of. By the time he got back to his friend, he found the young man shaking as if chilled. He didn't like the looks of that at all, so he quickly wrapped the blanket around Richie, then lifted him back into the car. "I'll be right back," he said before dashing back into the warehouse, grabbing his coat, katana, and Richie's duffel bag. With everything in the car, he finally headed to the hospital. ***** end of part 3