Kidnapped
Part Seven
By Lynne Facella
Mulderette@aol.com or Lynne1919@aol.com

Rating: PG (language, violence)
Keywords: JC, PB angst
Spoilers: Episodes through All in the Family
Archive: Sure, just ask so I know where it is going.

Disclaimer: All ER characters are the property of Warner Brothers, NBC, etc., etc. (The bad guys are mine).

Summary: Dr. Carter is held for ransom and an unwitting Dr. Benton gets dragged along for the ride.

Note: Thank you Kristen for your very helpful comments and suggestions. Also thanks to all of you who have given me feedback and supported this series. I very much appreciate it :)



"You know, when I was sick with the flu, the Chief wouldn't even let me leave a little bit early." Dave was behind the desk, about three-quarters through a double shift, complaining to anyone who would listen. "How many days has Carter been off?"

"I'm sure John must be pretty sick not to be here," Jing-Mei said as she signed off on a chart.

"Yeah well I was pretty sick that day too," Dave protested. "Did anybody have any sympathy for me? No, they didn't. Now I'm stuck working extra shifts. I never get any sleep. When is he coming back anyway?"

Mark gritted his teeth. He knew Dave had no clue what was going on, but he was getting on his nerves. "We're slow right now, Malucci. Why don't you try to get a little sleep? We'll wake you if we need you." He tried to keep the annoyance he felt out of his voice.

"Yeah?" Dave gave Mark a surprised look. "Okay, thanks. I'll do that."

He went off in search of an empty exam room, but finding none, went into the lounge and curled up on the couch.

"Kerry's still not back?" Elizabeth came up behind Mark, rubbing his back gently.

"No. Not yet." Mark took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I wonder what's going on?"

"I don't know," Elizabeth murmured. "Robert has been upstairs hollering about Peter not showing up. He's ready to fire him."

"He's just mouthing off," Mark replied. "Even Romano should know that Peter wouldn't do this for no good reason."

"Yes, well you know how Robert is."

Mark was about to reply when he noticed Kerry hurrying towards them and she didn't look particularly happy. "Kerry's back."

"I need to talk to you in the lounge." Kerry's voice had a sense of urgency as she hurried past them. Mark and Elizabeth exchanged uneasy glances and quickly followed behind her.

They went into the seemingly empty lounge and huddled in a little group by the door.

"I spoke with John's grandmother," Kerry began. "I trust that what I tell you will not leave this room."

Mark and Elizabeth nodded. "Of course," replied Mark.

Kerry took a deep breath. "It seems that John and Peter have been kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?" asked Elizabeth incredulously. "Why? By whom?"

"Money. John was the target and somehow Peter must have gotten involved also. John's grandmother is getting the money together and will deliver it to them tomorrow. She doesn't want the police involved."

"Whoa Kerry," said Mark, shaking his head. "Do you think that's a good idea? I think the police should be called."

"I think so too, Mark, but it isn't our call. Mrs. Carter believes that they will kill John and Peter if the police are notified and I'm not going to go against her wishes. She's worried enough as it is. Supposedly John has already been hurt."

Mark sighed. "I still don't think it's very smart."

Kerry grabbed Mark's arm. "Mark, promise me you will not contact anyone. I gave her my word that we wouldn't."

"I promise, Kerry. I said that I wouldn't and I won't. It doesn't mean I have to like it though.

Kerry nodded. "Why don't you two go home," she said softly. "I'm not on for very much longer. Thank you Mark for covering for me."

"Are you sure?" asked Mark, giving Kerry a doubtful look. "I don't mind staying."

"I'm sure, Mark." Kerry managed to force a small smile. "Go. You've been here long enough today."

"You'll let us know if you hear any news?" Elizabeth asked anxiously.

"I will. I'll call you the minute I hear anything." Kerry watched as the door shut behind Mark and Elizabeth. She took a shuddering breath as tears overflowed and limped across the room to sit for a few minutes and compose herself before going back to work.

As she sat down, she was stunned to see Dave, stretched out on the couch, staring at her. "You okay, Chief?" He sat up, giving Kerry a wary look.

"Malucci! What are you doing here?" Kerry snapped as she angrily swiped at the tears on her face.

Dave shrugged. "Dr. Greene said I could try and catch a little shut eye."

"You heard?"

"Um, yeah." Dave saw that Kerry was about to bite his head off and quickly sprang to his own defense. "I didn't think anything of it when you first came in and then after you started talking I couldn't exactly pop up and say I was here. I didn't know what to do."

"So you listened," Kerry finished for him. She wasn't really mad at Dave. She was just upset about the whole situation. She wanted it to be over with and John and Peter safely returned. "Dave. You have to promise that you will not breathe a word of what you heard in here today, not to anybody. I mean it."

"I promise, Chief. I won't say anything," Dave said sincerely. He already felt badly that he had been whining about Carter earlier. He was a friend and he would never do anything to endanger his life.

They sat for a few moments in silence and Dave got to his feet. "I think I'm going to get back to work. I don't think I'd be able to sleep now anyway." He started to go, then turned to Kerry and gave her an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Chief. They'll be okay."

"I hope you're right," Kerry said softly. "I hope you're right."



Frank opened the cell door and swaggered into the cell. Tony followed behind, but hung back and stood guarding the door, a tense expression on his face. Frank, however, was smiling jovially. "You're looking fit, Dr. Benton," he said mockingly. "Perhaps prison life agrees with you."

Furious, Benton started to rise from the floor. Frank aimed his gun quickly. "Just give me a reason," he said coldly. "You sit down. Now."

Frank knelt down beside Carter, smiling maliciously. "How ya doing, Dr. Carter? I'm so very sorry that I shot you. It was an impulse reaction." He paused before speaking again, almost in a whisper. "I wasn't thinking. It's so easy when you have a gun in your hand...just one little squeeze of the trigger and then bang!" he waved the gun at Carter, causing him to flinch.

"Why don't you leave him the Hell alone?" Benton snarled, desperately trying to get Frank's attention off of Carter and onto himself.

"Oh you'd like that, wouldn't you, Dr. Benton?" Frank said. "I'm afraid my life's goal isn't to please you though. Sorry."

Benton glared at the man, mentally weighing his options. If only Carter was in better shape, they could just make a move and try to escape. He couldn't do anything against two guns though...the odds of himself or Carter getting killed was just too high.

"So Dr. Carter," Frank turned his attention back to the young doctor. "For a rich son of a gun, you really don't have a heck of a lot of luck do you?"

Carter shifted uncomfortably. He felt lousy enough without this jerk harassing him and he could see that Dr. Benton was on the verge of losing it. He wished this guy would just go away.

"No, you don't have any luck at all," Frank said musingly. "You know... I know what happened to you. Valentine's Day wasn't it?"

"Shut up," Benton said menacingly.

"Don't you tell me to shut up again." Frank turned to Benton with a hostile look. "If you do, I'll blow your friend's face off."

Benton sat back. Every one of his nerves was on edge. The guy at the door wasn't saying anything, but this asshole had obviously come back here only for the sheer pleasure of tormenting Carter. He was one sick bastard.

"Yes...." Frank said smiling as he reached over and patted Carter's head indulgently. "You were all over the news, you and that pretty medical student who was murdered. She was lovely. You must have felt very bad about what happened."

Benton watched helplessly as Carter's eyes started to glaze over. He looked like he was burning up again and was obviously becoming caught up in what this guy was saying. "Carter...Carter don't listen to him man."

"Yes it was really a shame. You were her supervisor, weren't you?"

Carter nodded, unable to keep the memories at bay as they came flooding back. He saw Lucy lying on the floor, her blood everywhere, and that terrified look on her face. He knew he would never forget that look on Lucy's face for as long as he lived.

"I never really understood what happened," Frank said, clearly enjoying the young man's distress. "I guess you didn't really do a very good job diagnosing that man, did you? Then you left him alone with that poor, unfortunate girl."

Frank leaned over, close to Carter's face. Benton started to move towards him, but Tony cocked the trigger of his gun warningly. "I can only imagine the horrible pain she felt as that man stabbed her over and over and over again. She must have been in agony."

"No.," Carter moaned as he closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to fight against the terrifying images in his head of what Lucy must have gone through.

"You are one sick fuck," Benton couldn't keep it in any longer. He was being torn up watching this guy play with Carter's mind.

"Excuse me?" Frank looked at Benton with amusement.

"You're getting your jollies out of playing with a sick, defenseless kid," Benton said in disgust, shaking his head slowly. "I can't even begin to imagine how you get pleasure out of that. It's twisted."

"Oh well, sue me," Frank replied. "Maybe if granny could have been a little quicker getting the money together, we wouldn't have had to resort to this kind of thing for entertainment."

"Carter's grandmother is getting the money?" Benton couldn't help asking.

"I didn't see the old biddy personally, but yeah. Supposedly she'll be handing it over tomorrow afternoon."

"And then you'll let someone know where we are?" Benton asked quietly. He felt a surge of hope even though he knew nothing was stopping these two from blowing them away.

Frank just smiled, deliberately choosing to leave Benton's question unanswered. Then suddenly, without warning, he carefully aimed his gun and pulled the trigger. One of the water containers exploded sending water cascading out onto the floor. Laughing, Frank repeated his action, shooting another container into smithereens. This one was close to Carter and the water drenched the blanket he was lying on. "As you can see, I'm quite the expert marksman," he said jovially.

"Damn you!" Without hesitation, Benton struggled to pick Carter up to get him off of the soaking wet blanket. Carter groaned loudly as a severe pain ripped through his shoulder with the sudden movement. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry Carter," Benton murmured. He awkwardly carried him to a dry spot in the cell and put him back down as carefully as possible.

"You are a real bastard." Benton spoke each word slowly and deliberately. "I hope you burn in Hell."

"You're so dramatic, Dr. Benton," Frank said, chuckling as he looked pointedly at Carter. "Anyone can see he's not long for this world. I should do him a favor and put him out of his misery."

It was the last straw. Benton had finally reached his limit. He lunged at Frank and head-butted him, sending both men tumbling down. The gun clattered to the floor. Frank tried to grab for it, but Benton proved quicker reaching it first. He backed away from Frank, the gun firmly in his hand. "Maybe I should just blow you away," Benton whispered, looking at Frank with hate-filled eyes.

"I'd put that down if I were you, doc," Benton turned around and was dismayed to find Tony standing over Carter, his gun aimed at Carter's head. "Drop it."

Benton hesitated. "How do I know you won't just shoot him anyhow if I drop it?"

"I guess you're just going to have to trust me," said Tony as he increased the pressure on the trigger. "But if you don't drop it, I will shoot him."

Benton bent over and placed the gun down. Frank, who was still lying on the floor after his tussle with Benton, grabbed it quickly. "Do it Tony!" he said, as he got to his feet angrily. "Blow his damn head off. I'll take care of this one." He shoved Benton hard against the wall. "Though actually, I suppose if we kill him and let you live, you'll suffer all the more, won't you?" he sneered.

Benton ignored Frank and looked over at Tony. "Don't do it man," he pleaded. "You don't really want a murder rap, do you? He hasn't done a thing to you. He doesn't deserve that."

Tony stared back at Benton for a few moments and then finally relaxed his arm, no longer aiming the gun at Carter. "Come on Frankie, let's get out of here." He really didn't want any part of killing this kid. He was beginning to be sorry he had taken part in this caper, or at least sorry that he had chosen Frankie to be involved in it. Bill was right...the guy was nothing but trouble.

"If you're not going to do it, I will." Frank turned towards Benton, giving him an icy look. "This will be your fault big man. You can sit here in this cell until you rot and know that this will be your fault."

Benton's heart went into his throat as Frank aimed the gun at Carter.

"Frankie don't," Tony said, putting his hand on the gun and pushing it away. "You're not a killer, Frankie. Please...let's go."

"What's the matter with you, Tony?"

"What's the matter with you?" Tony shot back. "We came into this for the money, Frankie. Since when did you become so interested in killing people? What are you torturing this kid for anyhow?"

"Because I can," Frank stated. "Fine. We'll leave if it makes you happy." He turned to leave the cell, but not before giving Carter a vicious kick to his side. Carter groaned as the pain shot through him. He grabbed his side and curled his body up instinctively, trying to protect himself against further harm. "You can thank your buddy for that one."

"You have fun," Frank said to Benton, "and I wouldn't hold my breath waiting for help because it'll never come." He then slammed the cell door closed with a bang.

Benton rushed to Carter's side, kneeling down beside him. Carter was shivering violently. "Carter? Carter can you hear me?"

Carter weakly opened his eyes and stared up at Benton. "I'm cold," he managed to say. Benton noted that part of Carter's shirt was soaking wet. He debated what to do, knowing he would not be able to pull the shirt over Carter's head because of his tightly bound shoulder. He decided that his best bet would be just to rip it off of him, which he did without too much difficulty.

"What are you doing?" Carter asked, starting to ramble. "Why are you ripping up my clothes?"

"Don't worry about it, Carter. It's okay." Benton then examined Carter's side where he had just been kicked. An ugly red mark was there which was already starting to bruise. He hoped Carter didn't have a fractured rib on top of all his other problems. Hopefully it was just a bruise although either would be painful. He gently probed the area with his fingers.

"Stop it. You're hurting me." Carter tried to twist his body away from Benton.

I'm sorry, Carter." Benton paused to take a deep breath, wondering once again how they had managed to get into this horrible mess. He sat Carter up to wrap him in the blanket as well as he could. He then gently pulled Carter into his arms in an attempt to keep him warm. Carter resisted for a few moments but eventually settled down and stopped shivering. "Wanna go home," Carter mumbled, finally succumbing to sleep.

"I know you do, Carter," Benton said softly as he absently stroked the top of Carter's head. "I want to go home too."

End