Bigrig Ch. 17

It was going into the fourth week, and the four of them were seated around the table at dinner. They were staying at the apartment on the complex under safe watch constantly. The security guard sat in his chair at the door. In his hand was a book that he had been reading for days now. And he paid no attention to them at the moment.

The silence seemed to fall around them as usual. With so much security, it was difficult for a private reprieve and they all were beginning to feel the stress of it mounting inside them.

The only one that didn't seem to be affected by it was Tony. And he was on one of his kicks that he didn't want to be messed with at all. It seemed since they had gotten back from that last trip, he had withdrawn from them all. The three of them each wondered in his own mind, if he were only concentrating on the conflict ahead, or was he loosing his faith in his own abilities because he hadn't accomplished what he so desired.

Over and again Bruce recalled that night, how Tony had demanded of himself, that he had to kill Maurice. It plagued him over and over, wondering if he felt less than he is, because he had not done so. Plus, by coming short of killing their allie, he had almost fallen prey to the demented mind of his opponent.

Jonathan stared at Tony. His heart was aching for him. He could tell something wasn't right with him. But his every attempt to soothe his heart was warded off by the man's insistent alienation. There wasn't anything else he could do. He had tried everything he knew to do. Even praying had begun to keep him company at night. No one else was.

Sitting straight, he tossed his fork down. Standing he rushed into his room. There he hid, feeling he was to blame. There was no one here that had brought so much trouble to them. No one else had almost gotten them killed. And not one of them had such a vindictive uncle, who was cruel and heartless.

He began to want to punish himself for all the trouble he had caused. Hugging his pillow, he rocked as he sat on the edge of his bed. Nothing was right now. They all had changed. His eye filled with tears. His heart breaking, he went into his adjacent bathroom locking the door. Even though it was a rule here that no one lock there door, he did it anyway.

Tony stared at Jonathan's now empty spot. His mind racing with so many thoughts, all at once. How they had shared such a wonderful night. The same night Maurice had almost killed him. And he missed Jonathan. He missed all of them. But he couldn't stand the fact that he had failed. All his training, all of his hard work, and he still had not made his mark.

Then it suddenly occurred that no one had gotten up to check on the kid. Bruce had gotten up and went out onto the balcony. Greg was just sitting there staring like he was. What had happened to them? Why were they all like this?

As he stood, Bruce's cell phone rang. This was the call they had been waiting for. In its charger on the book shelf, it buzzed and vibrated, ringing all the while.

The security guard stood to his feet. He looked to the balcony, but Bruce didn't come. "Hey, you wanna get that!" he called to the sliding glass door.

Suddenly coming to his senses, Bruce rushed inside picking it up. His eyes locked with the guards, nodding as soon as he pushed the talk button. In the same instant, the guard pressed the button on his watch starting the timer.

The call was patched through the system in the tech room. Every second counted that Bruce had to keep him on the line. And the call was recorded, every word would be analyzed.

"Well, Bruce Crawford, is it?" the strongly amused voice came over the cell phone.

"Yes, James bowman, I presume." Bruce returned with a bit of distain.

The man laughed on the other end. "Oh, don't sound so modest, Bruce. I know you have no love toward me. And in fact, I must say, I have grown to appreciate your tenacity. And I also have grown to respect you. You've given my people a very difficult time. And that I just cannot allow, sir."

"Allow it or not, that's how it is, 'sir'." he emphasized that word with much emotion.

Mr. Bowman laughed again. "Well, whatever it is, you still have something that belongs to me. I want it back." his tone became harsh now.

"Oh, is that it? You think you can just order me?"

"I am not calling you to pick a fight, Mr. Crawford. I only want the kid."

"And you can just keep wanting, Mr. Bowman." Bruce maintained his allegiance to Jonathan completely.

His eyes lifted to see the youth slowly come out of his room. He had heard the cell phone ring, which had stopped him from his dreadful deed. Now, he stepped one foot before the other toward the dining room again. Watching. Listening. Waiting to see what would happen to him now. Would Bruce just give him over to his uncle? Or would he remain the strong friend he had been all this time? His breath caught in his throat, he waited to hear.

"You have a very nice home, my friend. It would be a shame to watch it go up in a blazing fire. Ruined and left in ashes, along with everything inside." the man on the other end played his piece, now waiting for Bruce to take his turn.

"Torch it, bowman. Jonathan's more important to me than my house."

"I see..." the man seemed very disappointed now. "...Well, is you truck as important? More, maybe? It would be difficult to make what you make with a new truck payment, now wouldn't it?"

Bruce sighed.

"Ask him what he wants, Bruce." Tony whispered harshly.

"What do you want, bowman?" he growled into the phone.

"Oh, did I hit a nerve, sir? Pardon me." he chuckled. "Bring the kid to your place. One hour, Bruce. That's all you have. Or everything you own will disappear. I will kill you. And I'll take your doctor friend as my...ahem...well, pet. I'm sure you'd like that, now wouldn't you. Knowing I'm having my way with him. He is such a lovely man, too. I may even torture him a time or two, just to see how much he can stand. I love to hear a grown man scream."

"You leave Greg out of this!" Bruce yelled into the phone. He was trembling now. His anger soaring to a height he had never experienced.

Greg coiled suddenly as tears of frustration ran down Bruce's face. He wondered what had been said that he would react this way. And it involved him. What in God's name?

"Then I guess, you'll concede by bringing Jonathan back to me. Your place, Bruce. One hour." the line began to make that awful sound of an ended conversation.

"Damn it!" Bruce angrily threw the phone on the floor. He stomped it to pieces not thinking what he was doing.

Greg slowly stood. He had never seen Bruce like this. His hands went to his face in total disbelief.

"Okay!" Tony turned to the security guard. "Fuck...you!" he jabbed a finger in the air at him.

The guard lifted his hands wondering what he had done.

Tony moved to Bruce grasping his arms. He shook him back to reality vigorously. "Bruce! Stop it! Take it out on Bowman!" he then pulled him to his body holding him desperately close.

"That man is evil..." Bruce sobbed.

"He's always been that way." Jonathan muttered. "Did he threaten to take Greg? Make him his toy or something? Maybe offered to change his looks a little? He'll do it, too." tears streamed down the youth's face as he spoke.

Bruce nodded. He couldn't answer.

Ben burst in through the door. A tall man with short light brown hair, His eyes an even lighter brown, they were gleaming with unbridled passion to trap Bowman at the moment. A very handsome face and strong cut features he stepped toward the two that were hugging at the moment.

"It's time, Bruce. We have to go." the man's smooth sultry voice washed over them.

"Greg's not going." Bruce's head popped up suddenly.

Ben eyed him with much surprise at the heat in Bruce's tone. "Okay..." he nodded once enunciating the word long. "But Jonathan is." he stated firmly.

"Does he have to go?" Greg grabbed the youth hugging him to him suddenly. His eyes reflected the state of his heightened emotions.

"Yes, he's the bait. He must go." the man stated coolly then stepped to the door. "We only have an hour. Time is wasting people." and he was gone.

"No, Bruce. You can't let them do this." Greg rushed to him clinching his arm.

"You heard the man." he kept his head down now realizing he had sacrificed Jonathan for Greg. His heart was aching. How could he choose in such a way? Why hadn't he demanded that they both stay?

"Bruce..." Greg began to sob, as he watched him move away. Not even a look or a kiss. No hug to comfort him. He grabbed Jonathan in a last desperate show of emotion. Hugging him close and tight, he kept him there, until the guard pried him from his body dragging him away. Greg stood there alone. His mind full of fear and crushing sorrow.

Jonathan rode in silence while Bruce, Tony and Ben rambled on about what they should do. He had begun to feel he was being led into the wolves den by a pack of thieves. Their snarling grins and sharp tearing fangs snapping at him with each second that passed by.

He suddenly realized he had survived all these years. He could do it again, if he had too. But he was tired of fighting the man. Tired of the struggle to live. The freedom he had known was never real to begin with. Not having to look over his shoulder at every turn. Or lie awake at night in fear that someone would steal him away. That wasn't freedom, so it he had never truly known. Not really.

The car stopped and he looked up to realize they were parked in front of Bruce's house. It seemed only seconds ago, he was about to take his own life. Now, he wouldn't have to. His uncle would do it for him.

"Jonathan, we are not giving you up freely. At the first opportunity, you run, boy." Ben leaned to him grasping his arm. "None of us have gone through all of this, just to watch him put you in his car and leave." the man added.

Jonathan's brow furrowed at hearing this. "But I thought--"

"Don't even!" Bruce stated strongly. "You heard the man. You run, the first chance you get. Tony's gonna try to set off a diversion. You watch for that. You hear? And I'll be right there." he explained urgently.

Jonathan smiled. "Okay..."

His subtle nod brought a smile to Ben's face. "You're a tough kid, Jonathan. You hang in there. No body is giving you up." he reiterated.

"Thank you." Jonathan's face lit up.

"No. they'll have to kill us first." Tony added.

Now Jonathan looked to him with so much surprise. It seemed the man had come alive again. His unbridled passions apparent again. He hugged him powerfully before they had to get out of the car.

"You think out there. Don't panic, just think." Tony whispered, one hand cradling his head, the other arm around him holding him tight.

"Let's go. The natives are gettin' antsy." Ben commented looking at the small force coming out from behind the tree line.

"You brought more than they have, didn't you?" Bruce queried.

"Let's just hope so." Ben opened the door. "Bruce, you first. Then Jonathan, if he has too. Not before." Ben whispered.

Bruce nodded stepping out of the car. He straightened being faced with this well dressed lot of men and their weapons.

"Where's Bowman?" he called out to them. Funny, he didn't see Peter in the line that approached him. It made him wonder what had happened to the man. Maurice was there, he noticed.

"Well..." that smooth cool voice he had heard over the phone exuded from the man that stepped out from the line. "...I see you're not as dissuaded as you thought."

"I'm only here to negotiate the kid. That's all, Bowman." Bruce's voice was firm unwavering.

The man laughed. "There is no negotiation, Crawford. Jonathan is my nephew and belongs with me."

"Bullshit, Bowman. He's a legal adult, he decides where he wants to live and breathe."

"You are a hard man, sir. But I grant you, I am harder. Now..." he stepped closer. "...Where is the boy?"

Bruce stared at him a moment hoping Tony would jump out any second.

"I won't ask you one more time, Bruce." automatic weapons lifted to him suddenly.

"You think I'm scared of you?" the man retorted bitterly.

"No, I think you're being stupid." he grinned. "Now, give me the boy."

No one had noticed the door was open on the far side of the car. Tony low-crawled tediously slow to the back so as not to make a sound. Ben had issued him a nine millimeter automatic with a silencer that was much better than his old revolver. He had practiced with it since he had been back. Going through the obstacle course, target practice, you name it, he had done it. And now he was ready to take his two major subjects down. You had better not miss, Santini. he told himself.

Inside the car, Ben had cracked his window. He trained his sights on Bowman, but Bruce stood in the way.

"Move Crawford..." he mumbled in frustration. "Don't get out of the car, Jonathan. Not unless you have too."

Jonathan lay in the seat, his hands over his head waiting for the gunfire to begin. Trembling, he could only hope his friends wouldn't be hurt or worse. His heart thudded against his chest. The sound permeated his ears so that it was all he heard. His breathing sporadic, he struggled to be silent, not wanting his uncle to know he was there.

Suddenly, Tony rose up trained on Maurice. He squeezed of the round that hurled, cutting through the air. Without warning, or a sound made, the man crumbled to the ground. Tony's eyes widened. It seemed so foreign to him that he now watched the man drop like a sack of potatoes. He lay sprawled on the ground motionless. He laughed. Tony laughed.

"Gotchya! You mother fucker!" he cried senselessly.

Men scattered suddenly. Bruce dropped to the ground as bullets rained everywhere, all around. Bowman grabbed him up using him as cover before he barely touched the ground.

"Damn it!" Ben yelled crawling to the far side of the car. He slipped out keeping his head down as he joined Tony. "Knucklehead..." he growled at the man. "You always have to have the last word, don'tchya?"

"Yep." Tony came up firing some again. He ducked back down looking at the tree line. "Where are all of our guys?" he asked.

"Tony, haven't you been listening?" Ben grumbled.

"Well, yeah." he loaded a clip into the handgrip turning to fire again.

"I swear you fly by the seat of yer pants." Ben came up parking his arms on the trunk firing for a few seconds. He ducked back down.

"You know me, man." Tony grinned.

"One of these days, Tony..."

"You wouldn't wish something bad on me, after all these years, now would ya?"

"No, I don't wish it on ya. I just wish you'd pay more attention. Our guys are the ones in camouflage, Tony."

"That's right. I remember now."

"Yeah, right, Tony."

"Stay here with the kid." Tony began to crawl away.

"Tony!" Ben suddenly came up aiming this time, but meaning to draw a distraction from Tony's movement.

Tony stayed down, low-crawling quickly to the open until he had to get up and run into the trees. Bowman had Bruce, and there was no telling what he would do to him. And that man being his friend and lover, he just couldn't abandon him. He slipped behind the line of fire searching for him fervently.

*****

"Have you ever been touched by someone you didn't like, Bruce? Someone you didn't want them to put their hands on you?" Bowman grinned into his face like the cat that ate the canary.

"You're not dealing with a boy, Bowman." Bruce stared back, daring him with his eyes to lay a finger on him.

The man half moaned, half laughed. "That's what I love, Bruce. A fighter. And Jonathan is just that." his voice was husky now. "You can fight me. I'd like that very much."

"You sick piece o' shit." Bruce growled. "Come on! I dare ya t' try!" he struggled with the two men that had his hands and arms wrenched behind him tight.

Bowman took out a large hunting knife beginning to trim his nails deftly with it. "Oh, I won't try, Crawford. I promise you that." he looked up from his work for a moment only.

Bruce now studied him long. He looked much like Jonathan, only fuller and stronger. Older, though he still appeared to be young, possibly in his late twenties. His black hair fell long down his back, being caught and swept now and then by the wind. An oval face encompassed those dark almond shaped eyes. A dark complexion with smooth unblemished skin was covered in a light colored suit of baby blue. Tall and handsome he was, but that was all obscured to Bruce by the tales he had heard of this man and his sick evil mind.

"You didn't bring my nephew, Bruce. I'm really disappointed in you. Instead, you brought Santini along. But that's fine. I'll be rid of him soon too. You really didn't think Maurice would come unprepared did you?"

At that moment the man stepping into the clearing deep in the forest grinning lewdly at Bruce. He stepped right up to Mr. Bowman slipping an arm around him comfortably. The man turned to him giving him a sweet kiss on the lips.

"Oh, god..." Bruce groaned. "...I should've known Maurice took it up the ass."

Without warning Maurice jabbed his fist into Bruce's midsection hard and fast. The man bent over going to his knees. He gagged and coughed desperately trying to catch his breath. The sick feeling that was coming over him concerned him terribly.

"Did it hurt?" Jim turned to Maurice asking after smiling with some amusement at Bruce's pain. He toyed with the hole in the shirt and the indentation in the bulletproof vest his right hand man had on.

Maurice grinned at the man's attentions becoming aroused by it immediately. He unbuttoned the shirt taking it and the vest off. Then he replaced the shirt fastening it once more.

"Oh, it felt good, sir." the man was emphatic.

"That's my Maurice." he chuckled. "Santini's got the hots for you. You'd better keep an eye out, my friend."

"Oh, but I have the advantage now that he thinks I'm dead." the man grinned at him fully.

"Yes..." Jim sighed long and wistfully, "...But, he's not one to give up. And once he realizes..."

"I won't disappoint you, sir." Maurice pledged now.

"Good." it seemed to be all he had wanted to hear. "But, now we have a decision to make. What will we do with this one?" he pointed the tip of his knife at Bruce briefly.

"Oh, I know what I want." Maurice was very decided about it.

"I thought you would. And you can have Santini too, when you get him. This one, I will hold until you find him, but I may use him a little while you look."

"That's fine with me." Maurice started back through the trees. "I'd rather have Santini, anyway."

Jim laughed lewdly, tossing his head back to do so. "And you think my mind is sick. You should look into his."

"I don't plan to, creep." Bruce wheezed.

"No, but you will, I assure you." he reached down lifting Bruce's face with a finger beneath his chin.

They stared long into the other's eyes. It seemed forever before the man finally smiled again. And Bruce returned it with a bitter glare that pierced right through the man exciting him even more.

"Hmm. Why don't you two remove his nice clothes? He won't have any use for them for a while." his hand dropped and he stepped away to watch.

*****

The door came open and someone grabbed an ankle. Jonathan squealed as he was being drug out of the car. He kicked at his captor violently coveting what freedom he did have up until then. That wicked laugh was so familiar to him. Having tormented his dreams all his life. He grabbed the back of the passenger seat holding on with all his might. But he just wasn't that strong.

The hands now grasped his thighs. He felt weight come down on his calves pinning them so the man could enter the back seat. Heaviness came over him suddenly almost knocking the wind out of him. Still, he fought the man violently. He wouldn't give in. the man would have to take him. And with strong hands, Maurice pinned his hand so that he couldn't move.