*Warning: Still a small bit of unconsensual contact. Also there is a tiny play on words that some people may find objectionable so I decided to put a teeny tiny *possible offensive language* warning here.
The man let his hand linger on Peter's thigh for a moment, relishing the waves of disgust and fear emanating from his captive, before rolling off the younger man and smiling sadistically.
"Not quite yet, young one. There will be plenty of time for pleasure later. First we have to send your dear, sweet uncle another message."
That said, he knelt next to the mattress and produced a box of small screws. He turned his head briefly to check that the red "record" light in the camera was on, and that his body was not blocking its view of the upcoming show. Seductively, he drew his hand slowly down Peter's bare chest to his waist before following the same path even slower with his tongue. Then he sat up, giggled, and addressed the camera.
"Yummy, Griffin. You're nephew has the sweet taste of terror all over him. Where else can I taste, hmm?"
His hand suggested the next target and Peter bucked wildly, trying to dislodge the unwanted attention. His assailant giggled louder, but removed his hand.
"Nah, don't worry Captain of mine, I have no intention of harming him that way. At least, not yet. But do stay tuned, Mr. boss-man, sir. You never know when the torture sequence may end, and the action will begin."
He pulled one of the screws from the box and pinched a fold of skin at Peter's waist.
"Very fit, detective. No inch for me to pinch here, now is there. You should be proud of your little nephew-boy, Captain. He is such fine physical condition. For now..."
With that, he pressed the tip of the screw to the fold of skin and began turning it, slowly adding strength, until the tip appeared on the other side. Not quite satisfied with the screams coming from his helpless victim, he turned it again and again. Finally happy with the results, and with the blood coating his hands, the man pulled another screw from the box.
"I'm gonna screw you all over, boy," he mock-whispered, licking a drop of blood off of Peter's stomach.
******
Despite Kermit's warning, the rapid-fire pace of the precinct came to an abrupt halt as the familiar figure walked quickly down the halls and into the bullpen.
"Okay, okay, people, let's get back to work. No, your eyes are not deceiving you, it is exactly who it looks like," Chief Strenlich bellowed, exchanging amused glance with his old friend and one-time Captain. "Now let's all get back to work and track down his son for him."
Paul acknowledged the former Marine with a sharp salute and firm handshake, all the while searching out the one face he dearly needed to see but knew he would not. All it took was one worried glance.
"They're in Captain Simms' office, Paul."
Paul sent the man a final grateful nod before hurrying toward the door that had once been his second home. He knocked, out of respect for the new captain, and waited impatiently for the door to open. The first thing he saw when it did was his son's father, looking somewhat defeated and distraught, standing over an older man who looked very much like Caine himself.
"Paul. Damn, you certainly made record time."
"Hey Griffin. Good to see you, too."
The two men clasped hands, the younger trying valiantly to hide his emotions behind his green tinted shades. The older was not fooled in the least.
"Kar...er...Captain Simms, this is Captain Paul Blaisdell, Paul this is Captain Karen Simms."
Karen shook hands with the living legend whose shoes she had been assigned to fill.
"I'm sorry we have to meet under these circumstances, but it's nice to finally meet the man behind the legend. I only hope I can earn even half of the respect these men and women have for you, Captain."
Paul noted the sincerity in her voice and smiled, "Thank you, Captain. But, from the looks of things around here, you have already accomplished that..."
He glanced over at Kermit and back to Karen, a glint in his eye and a tug at the corners of his mouth "...and more."
"Yeah, well," Kermit cleared his throat to get Paul's attention and indicated the man sitting by Caine, "and this is Matthew Caine, Peter's grandfather."
Paul's eyes widened minutely at the identification and easily interpreted his long-time friend's unspoken sentiment. 'And your father, too, kid.' He extended his hand to the man.
"It's good to meet you, Mr. Caine."
"And I am honored to meet the man who took care of and loved my grandson with such generosity," the elder Caine reached out his own hand.
"Caine," Paul nodded to the priest, "I am sorry this had to happen. I promise you, I will find our son."
Kwai Chang Caine bowed, "I am glad you have returned. I fear that our son will be needing the comfort and support of as many loved ones as possible after this ordeal is ended. Have you spoken with Annie?"
"Yes, and she is worried as hell, as are the girls. She practically shoved me out the door to get me over here," Paul sighed and dragged a hand over his face but couldn't suppress a slight grin of pride at his wife's attitude earlier that evening. He turned to Kermit, grin dissolving into a mix of worry and hope,
"Has anything happened since we last spoke?"
Kermit shook his head and sank back against the Captain's desk. "Nothing. It's like this guy just doesn't exist. Damn it, Paul, I even tried his brother's name but that drew a total blank, too."
Paul laid a firm hand on his friend's shoulder. "Like I said before, kid, this is not your fault. We will find Peter. I have a few sources left who have yet to report their findings. And if those guys don't come up with anything, we'll just dig deeper. We're not gonna give up on this."
Just as he finished, a uniformed officer knocked on the door and entered.
"Ma'am, another video tape has arrived for Detective Griffin. There was also a note attached to a vial of liquid that looks like it could be blood."
End Part 11
