Nic in the Nick

Reluctantly, now the decision was made, Andy waited the week that Bill had asked for. It was time Bill had told him that he needed to literally get out of town. After the week had passed Andy left Eric in charge and took a day off for the first time since Amanda had disappeared.

Andy was not sure exactly why he was going to see Lorraine, or what he was going to say, but he needed some sort of explanation. While he was sure Amanda would not have just taken off and left him there was always that tiny nagging doubt, and that was the thing that deep down let him believe she may still be OK and out there somewhere to find again.

Andy found the street, a quiet middle class suburban street with trees and lawns, children playing in the park and a peaceful feel to it. He parked a few houses away from the one Lorraine lived in, because there was some shade and the car would be cooler when he got back. As he was about to get out of the car he saw two men come out from Lorraine's house. These guys were squeezed into suits that looked totally wrong. They were big men, the sort of bruisers you would find at a seedy boxing gym; rough in the face and muscles bulging through the suits. The two men looked around carefully but Andy was in the shade and they were wearing dark glasses, they did not see him as he sank down in his seat.

Andy watched them get into a black Lincoln and it pulled away. He wrote down the license number, for no reason except they had looked suspicious. He then laughed at his own actions, thinking he was going mad and trying to act like some spy or secret agent. He screwed up the paper and threw it in the back seat. Andy got out of the car and looked at the house. Nothing wrong here, he thought, and took a step toward his answer.

The house exploded.

It wasn't a little explosion, one that took the windows out or something you see in the action movies, it destroyed the house and took out half of the houses next door. Trees were uprooted and lethal splinters of wood shot out over the whole block.

Andy was on the ground, blown over by the force of the blast. The world stood still for what felt like ten seconds or more, silent in the echo of the massive boom, and then the crying and screaming began. Children were panicking in the park, fortunately far enough away that they were not injured, and slowly the reality set in. Andy got up, got into his car and drove away. He knew from what Bill had told him that at this stage to be found near the scene would get back to the person responsible and if they suspected he knew anything he would be next. If what Bill had said was right.

He still felt a bit stupid to believe the story but what he had just seen had him very worried. He heard sirens approaching and looked in the mirror soon enough to see the blood on his face. He wiped it away and looked normal enough when the cops went past at speed, heading to the scene of the crime.

It was a crime, Andy decided, those two guys in the Lincoln had looked too out of place and had taken off just a little too hurriedly.

Andy drove home and looked at his face. He had a couple of scrapes that may have been fragments or may have been him hitting the ground. He fixed himself up and watched the news on TV.

The explosion led the news and all he really found out was a woman had died, there were a number of injuries to others that were not life threatening and that a faulty gas connection was suspected. No way he thought, there had been no smell of gas and the explosion had not had much flame to it.

Chapter 7 – Checking the facts.

Andy went through the next couple of weeks waiting for the police to visit and ask him why he had been there. Someone, he thought, must have taken his number down, but it didn't happen. The only witness to the actual crime was Andy and he looked at the piece of paper with the license number written on it over and over, wondering how he could do anything with it. He was starting to believe Bill had been right and if so this was a very dangerous and well-connected man he was chasing.

Andy was scared.

He finally settled on a simple ruse of walking into a police station and asking at the desk if they could help identify the black car that had hit his car and then taken off. The policewoman took pity on him and gave him the details (unofficially of course) and off he went. The car was owned by a business and it was easy to find out that Blain Fury ultimately owned the business.

What next, wondered Andy, and he decided to take a look at the Fury residence. Andy "borrowed" a friend's dog and drove to the area. This was a rich suburb, big mansions with big fences and closed gates. He put the dog on the leash and went for a walk. The house was not visible from the road, the huge fence and gates blocking any view inside. This trip was dead loss Andy thought as he continued up the road. He walked around a bit more before heading back and worked out there was not a lot of information in this neighborhood. It was very barricaded and very quiet. As he approached the house he was watching the gates started to open. There was a tree near where he was and Andy let the dog have a good long sniff around. As he waited for the dog to finish there was the rumble of a V8 engine coming down the drive then an immaculate 1969 Mach 1 Mustang appeared with his target at the wheel. As Andy did his best imitation of a dog owner reluctantly waiting Blain roared off in the other direction. That proves nothing, thought Andy, he likes classic cars and he does live there, so what? Then a white delivery van with tinted windows came out of the drive. It turned toward Andy as he started walking again and the gates closed behind it. Andy looked up as it passed and the two occupants looked back at him.

Andy's blood went cold. He was looking at the two thugs who left Lorraine's house just before the lethal explosion. The dog stopped to sniff something and pulled him up with a jerk. The two thugs laughed and looked away.

Andy went through the facts as he drove back home.

Bill had told him Blain Fury was the one who had abducted Amanda. Bill had said Lorraine could confirm the details of how Blain chose his victims from his own companies. Amanda had worked at one of Blain's companies. Lorraine had been killed in unusual circumstances after speaking to Bill Bill had been scared even before that. The two men who had last seen Lorraine, and who had most likely planted the explosive, had driven a car registered to one of Blain's companies, and were now driving another vehicle out of Blain's house.

Conclusion? Blain had taken Amanda.

Full conclusion? Blain had killed Amanda.

Struggling to stay calm Andy went over his options. Call the police? No even the police were scared. Kill Blain? No, Andy was not a killer and wouldn't know how to start. Hire a hit man? No, Andy thought savagely, he must know why he is dying, and it must hurt him plenty. Just forget it? No, Amanda deserved better than that.

I will kill him, Andy finally thought, and he will know why and he will suffer as no man has suffered before.

So how?

Andy's plan began that evening. He started his revenge file, a list of information about Blain Fury, his habits and his likes and dislikes. Andy was very careful to make sure no one got suspicious.

Two weeks later Andy rang a customer who had had a 1968 gold nugget special Mustang painted about 6 months before.

"Hey Rolf, it's Andy, I painted the gold nugget remember?"

"Oh, hi Andy, what's up? Rolf answered.

"I was just thinking it's probably time for another cut, now the paint has fully hardened, do you want to book it in?"

"How much?" Rolf answered, sounding a bit suspicious.

"No charge, Rolf," Andy answered easily, "It's part of the service."

"Really?" Rolf asked, surprised.

"Yeah, your paint job is my advertisement," Andy continued, "if it don't look good, I don't look good."

"Well, uh, sure." Rolf was convinced. "How long do you need it for?"

"A couple of days to be certain it gets done right." Andy answered. "I'm pretty busy for the next two weeks but I could get you in say the following Thursday."

"Yeah that would work," Rolf replied, "could you keep it over the weekend and I'll pick it up Monday?"

Andy smiled into the phone. It's going to be a squeeze he thought, but it should be workable. "No problem Rolf." He answered, and then innocently he asked, "I saw some guy in an incredible 69 Mach 1 today, Rolf, Blain something, do you know him?"

"Yeah, he's a dickhead," Rolf replied, then with satisfaction he said "he's got a real fine collection but he doesn't have a gold nugget."

"Has he made you an offer?" Andy asked.

"He doesn't know I've got it yet." Rolf replied with a laugh. "But when he finds out he's going to try to get it."

"No sale?" Asked Andy, delighted with his luck.

"Not to him, ever," Rolf answered. "There were only just over five hundred of these made and he won't get this one."

"That's it," Andy answered happily, "you stick to your guns. See you in a couple of weeks then?"

"Yeah." Rolf replied and hung up.

Chapter 8 – An interview with a difference.

Andy smiled and looked up his revenge file. He dialed a number.

"Oh, um hello, I was just wondering if Mister Fury would be interested in a 1968 gold nugget special Mustang?"

He smiled into the phone but the smile never reached his eyes, they stayed cold.

Three weeks later Andy was polishing the Mustang again. He had given Eric the weekend off and on Saturday afternoon his was the only factory open in the complex. There was no one else around for miles. He smiled as he thought how well the deal had gone. The car had been cut and glazed on Friday and Friday night Blain Fury had arrived, along with his goons, and had agreed on a price. The car was to be picked up this afternoon as he had said it needed two new white walls and a thorough polish before delivery. His plans were in place, he was the spider in his web just waiting for the unsuspecting fly.

Blain walked in, flanked by the goons, one of whom was carrying a briefcase.

"Still working on it Andy?" Blain asked happily.

"Got to make sure it looks it's best when it leaves Mister Fury." Andy replied. Go on he thought, get rid of the goons, I need to get you alone.

"I told you, Andy, call me Blain," Blain said with easy familiarity, "how long will it be?"

"'Bout twenty minutes I reckon, um Blain." Andy replied.

"Got the dough here," Blain said, pointing at the case, "you'd better count it."

Andy looked up. "Mister um, er Blain, if I can't trust a man like you who can I trust? Just put it in the office and I'll give you the papers when I get this polish off, we can't let it harden or it won't look right." Get rid of the goons, he thought.

"Hey, Reb," Blain said, "you and Tim take the Lincoln and head back, I'm going to take this baby for a good spin and see how the girls like it. I might be back later on." He winked.

"Sure boss." The thugs turned and left.

Andy heard the car drive off. He kept polishing in silence. Blain watched with proprietary interest.

Ten minutes later Andy finished.

"Done," he said easily, "I'll just grab those papers." He walked into the office and grabbed the stun gun from the cupboard. He checked it was set on maximum, held some papers in front of it. He walked back out to where Blain was leaning into the car, put the electrodes to the back of Blain's neck and squeezed.

Blain convulsed, then collapsed. Andy dragged him into the spray booth and secured him to the chair he had set up earlier. He went and switched the hidden video camera on and then went outside. Andy locked the gates at the front of the complex, drove his own car into the shop and closed the doors, locking them from the inside. He turned the phone ringer off and went into the booth to wait for Blain to regain consciousness. While he waited he counted the cash in the case. It was two grand short. Andy smiled, and the smile was not friendly at all.

Blain hurt, his head, hurt his arms hurt, his legs hurt, and he just hurt all over. His vision was blurred and as it came into focus he saw he was in a small white room. Andy was in front of him smiling.

"What the fuck happened?" Blain mumbled.

"You fell over and knocked yourself out." Andy replied with a smile.

Blain tried to lift an arm but couldn't. He looked down and saw he was tied to the chair. His feet seemed to be tied too. Shit he thought, I shouldn't have shortchanged the money, this guy seems pretty pissed.

"What's going on, why am I tied up?" Blain asked.

"I need to ask you a few things," Andy answered, "things you might not want to answer."

Blain decided it was time to be aggressive. "Do you know who you are dealing with here?" He asked "I am one of the richest men in the state, I have friends in the police, I have friends in the fucking Whitehouse too, now let me go and I might not have you thrown in jail."

"I have some questions to ask." Andy repeated.

"You have no fucking idea do you dickhead?" Blain screamed, "You had better let me go or I'm going to..." Blain suddenly screamed in pain as Andy hit his left hand with a panel hammer. Bones broke with the blow.

"Shut up or I do the other one too." Andy told him.

"Jesus fucking Christ..." Blain mumbled.

Andy lifted the hammer and Blain shut up.

Andy looked down at Blain.

"I don't give a fuck who you are or who your friends are. Right now it's just you and me and if you want to live you will answer my questions, and answer them truthfully. Otherwise I will kill you but you will hurt a lot more before you die."

Aggression didn't work thought Blain feeling the agony of his broken hand, lets see how money goes.

"A million." He said through gritted teeth.

"What?" Andy asked.

Blain was encouraged, he was interested. "A million," he repeated, "I'll give you a million dollars to let me go." Then I'll have you killed before you can spend it he thought.

Andy picked up a can with a brush in it and dabbed some of the contents onto Blain's good hand. Horrified Blain felt the burning and watched as it blistered in front of him.

"Jesus two million then." He moaned.

"Almost a year ago you had my wife abducted and I want to know what you did to her." Andy said.

Blain was suddenly scared. How the fuck was he going to get out of this?

Andy continued. "You would remember Amanda clearly, she looks exactly like Nicole Bonham."

Blain looked up in horror. First she had bit his cock off and now the husband wanted answers. What a fucking nightmare.

"What did you do to her?" Andy asked.

Blain gulped. "I never abducted anyone." He said. "I don't know what you are talking about."

Andy rubbed Blain's head with some thinners.

"Remember quick or I'm burning your hair off." He said.

"No, honestly, I never..." Blain broke into a scream again as Andy flicked a match and his hair burnt.

Andy looked at Blain, his skull blackened and blistered, a couple of tufts of hair had survived and were shriveled. Blain was blubbering.

"I know what you do to the girls who work in your companies," Andy said, "I know it was Reb and Tim who put the bomb in Lorraine's house on your orders, and they were seen grabbing Amanda." He lied. "Now talk or the paint remover goes in your eyes."

Blain was so scared and hurt that he had pissed his pants.

"I only meant to have some fun." He moaned. "They all get looked after in the end and they end up enjoying it too."

"So you did take her." Andy said coldly.

"Yes, Reb and Tim got her and brought her to me." Blain faltered, wondering how much he could hide and still get out of here without further injury.

"I want to know it all." Andy said harshly. "If I even think you are holding out on me you will suffer more, and it will be permanent damage.

Blain had experienced pain like nothing before when his dick had been bitten off but now it was almost back to useable, another month or two the doctor said. He used this experience to give himself strength to face the agony he was suffering now. His hand was the worst, the bones rubbing together at the slightest movement. The doctors will fix it he thought.

"I tied her up for a while and then she asked me to fuck her." Blain started, and then saw Andy lift the hammer. "No, no please no." Blain screamed. "All right she knew I had her and saw it as the easiest way out." Andy moved closer. "Wait, all right I admit it, first I went down on her until she came and then I fucked her while she was tied up." Blain screamed out, terrified.

Andy sat down again. "The truth, first time every time, got it?" He said in a menacing voice.

"Yes, yes anything you say." Blain was barely thinking now.

"Then what happened?" Andy asked.

"I went to fuck her ass," Blain whimpered, "and she begged me not to and she was sort of getting into it, oh fuck." Blain looked at Andy, frightened for his life all of a sudden. "You're going to kill me aren't you? I can't tell you this."

"If you don't tell me I will kill you." Andy stated, knowing that whatever Blain said now it would not save him. "If you do tell me I just might not."

"She had indicated she wanted to talk and I had taken the gag off." Blain was gasping in pain and fear as he spoke. "She said she was enjoying it and she would do anything except anal and when I suggested a blow job she promised she would suck my cock real good and not hurt me." Blain gulped and shook at the memory.

"And then?" Andy spoke harshly. He believed what he was hearing but was going through hell thinking about what Amanda had had to endure.

"The bitch bit my cock off, she fucking lied to me..." Blain screamed again as the hammer smashed his right hand. "Ah fuck you..." Blain stopped as he saw the hammer lift again. "No, please no more." He begged.

"She is not a bitch you lowlife asshole." Andy lifted the hammer higher, ready to kill when some logic returned.

Blain was sobbing, and had now shit himself as well. Andy watched him suffer with some satisfaction.

"I'm sorry, please don't kill me." Blain was begging again.

"Then what?" Asked Andy, his voice cold enough to freeze a fire.

"I honestly don't know," Blain whimpered, "I passed out and didn't come to until much later." Blain was petrified and had lost the ability to lie. "I had a knife and they told me later I had stabbed her when she bit me but I don't remember."

Andy just stared. This bastard had kidnapped Amanda, he had raped Amanda, he had murdered Amanda and he still thought he would live. What a fucking idiot.

"Reb and Tim dumped her body in a lake while I was still getting my dick sewed back on, I had nothing to do with that." Blain was shaking in fear, his injuries screaming pain at him.

"Why Amanda?" Andy asked quietly.

"She looks like that movie star, Nicole Bonham, and I had this huge crush on her. It was the closest I could get." Blain looked at the cold fury in Andy's expression. "I offered her money, everything, it was my last resort..." Even in his pain Blain could suddenly hear how pathetic he sounded.

"Is that how you picked them?" Andy asked, almost conversationally. "By their looks?"

"Pick who?" Blain managed to ask.

"The girls you abducted and used for sex." Andy replied. "How many were there?"

"There were about ten..." Blain started, then he looked at Andy, Blain knew he was in trouble and he didn't want to upset this guy more. "No there were close to thirty." He finally whispered. "I picked them from my companies during a walkthrough and yes it was their looks." Blain was desperate now. "A lot of them wanted to come back for more afterward," he said, "they liked the bondage and torture stuff and, of course, the money."

"Why didn't the cops do anything?" Andy asked.

"I pay them, they listen to other people who I pay too." Blain answered.