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Adam	By : kattanon Category: S through Z > The Shield Views: 1482 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Shield, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Disclaimer: - I don�t own any of the characters of The Shield, they all belong to Shawn Ryan and FX.

Adam � First Interlude

Dutch began to wake up but very quickly realised that he wished he didn�t have to � he felt like shit. His mouth was dry and foul tasting his tongue feeling swollen to twice it�s usual size and coated in something unsavoury that he really didn�t want to think to hard about. His head throbbed in time with his heartbeat and his entire body felt heavy and clumsy. Instinctually wanting to vocalize his discomfort a groan escaped his lips, but he immediately regretted it when the sound sent a stab of pain through his head that made him turn to the side and bury his face in his mattress.
It was this action that made him finally wonder if this was all something more than a monumental hangover from a night out that he couldn�t even remember. The smell that assailed his nostrils as he turned his face into the mattress was stale and musty. He realised then that instead of his relatively comfortable mattress at home whatever he was lying on was thin and hard and stank.
Opening his eyes he blinked in confusion when he couldn�t see anything but black. Reaching up to his face he ran a shaking hand down over his features searching for a blindfold but finding nothing but his open eyes blinking against his palm, the feel of his eye lashes tickling against his skin.
Dutch�s confusion was rapidly becoming worry as the befuddling mist that had enshrouded his brain began to lift and he found himself able to think more clearly. Reaching out blindly with his left hand his frown deepened when his knuckles were skinned and stung when his hand knocked against a hard wall of what felt like bricks. Pressing his hand flat against the brick wall he used it as purchase so he could drag himself into a sitting position while trying to ignore the dizzy, nauseous sensation that churned through his body as he did so.
Taking a moment to regain his equilibrium and swallow down the sick feeling in his stomach he paused before struggling to his feet still using the unfamiliar wall as support. Keeping one hand on the wall feeling its uneven surface bumping and scratching under his palm Dutch slowly circumnavigated the space he found himself in.
It wasn�t until he stepped off what felt like a thin mattress onto the floor that he realised that his feet were bare. For some reason his shoes and socks had been removed and his toes curled in an automatic response to the feel of the cold, stone floor under his feet.
The room he was in measured about seventeen feet by ten feet. He�d been surprised and then relieved when his hand had found a metal door inset into the wall which he guessed was nearly opposite his "bed", at least any vague fears he was beginning to have about being walled up alive faded with the discovery of the door. Approximately five fruitless minutes of hammering on the heavy metal door and shouting for help past before Dutch gave up trying to communicate with the outside for the moment and he moved on past the doorway and onwards around the room.
It was against one of the shorter walls that he banged his shin against a toilet that flushed when he pressed down the handle on the cistern. The discovery of a wash basin with a cold water tap that worked next to it meant he didn�t have to worry about drinking out of the toilet which was almost as much of a relief as finding the door had been. Cupping his hands under the running water Dutch gathered some water in them so that he could splash his face trying to clear his head before he sipped some cold water from his hands, enjoying for a moment the feel of it re-hydrating his parched mouth and throat.
Stumbling back to his mattress on the floor Dutch dropped down to sit on it feeling tired, but a little more aware then he had been previously. Mentally kicking himself for not thinking of it sooner he quickly patted himself down searching the pockets of his pants to see if he�d been left with anything useful. He�d been hoping for his cell phone but wasn�t surprised when he came up empty handed. His pockets had been emptied, his jacket taken and as his cold feet could testify his shoes and socks were gone to. Whoever had placed him in this room had been thorough, Dutch felt like a prisoner in a cell. With a humourless snort he realised that that was exactly what he was.
Leaning back against the cold brick wall Dutch leaned his head back and closing his eyes against the darkness he tried to marshal his memories into a coherent narrative so that he could piece together some clues as to what had happened to him, and maybe why it had happened.
He�d left work later then he�d intended, although not as late as he could�ve been had Claudette not insisted he leave and wouldn�t let him stay and help her with the paperwork for the Widor case. He had a long weekend vacation and had arranged weeks before to spend it down at Huntington Beach with Alan and Rosie Makin who were old friends. Friends from the days when he�d still been married to Lucy, in fact they�d originally been Lucy�s friends since she had gone to college with Rosie and it had been Lucy who�d introduced him to the couple after he and Lucy had been going out with each other for several months. After his marriage to Lucy had disintegrated in such a spectacular and humiliating fashion he�d found that all their mutual friends had picked sides, he supposed it was the natural thing to happen with a divorce. Alan and Rosie had sided with him, upset and disgusted by Lucy�s behaviour and offering him a place to stay and a shoulder to cry on when everything had first come out regarding Lucy�s infidelity and subsequent pregnancy. He�d remained firm friends with the couple ever since and tried to get down to Huntington Beach a couple of times a year to catch up and relax. Alan had called him about three weeks previously and asked him to come down to stay since he and Rosie were going to be celebrating their fifteenth wedding anniversary with a party at their beach house. So, Dutch thought to himself not knowing how long he�d been unconscious, even if he wasn�t missed back in Los Angeles for three or four days at least Alan and Rosie would wonder what had happened when he didn�t show up at their place that evening and would raise the alarm. The thought that he would be missed and that a search was probably already in motion comforted him a little.
He thought back over the circumstances that had directly led to him being in the predicament he now found himself in. He�d been on his way to Adam and Rosie�s and the night had been dark and cool. Instead of taking the freeway, which he knew would be crowded on a Friday night; Dutch had taken the much quieter back roads down the coast towards Huntington Beach. He could remember telling Alan about his route plan on the phone the last time they�d talked and he knew they were expecting him at around ten thirty that same night. He knew from previous visits that they�d have been waiting up for him, waiting for him to arrive. He briefly wondered how many hours overdue he�d been before they�d raised the alarm?
Making himself focus on the present he could remember driving along the quiet road when he spotted an SUV by the side of the road. A woman had been standing by it waving her arms at him to stop. As he slowed down and approached the parked car he had seen a sticker in the back window that read "baby on board" and thought he�d seen a glimpse of a baby seat in the back of the car. He�d been reeled in like a fish and had fallen for it hook, line and sinker he realised with a humourless smile. If it had been a guy by the side of the road trying to flag him down although he would have felt duty bound to stop and see if he could help he certainly would�ve been more careful. Yeah, he thought ruefully to himself, maybe you�d have taken your gun out of the damn glove box you idiot.
To late for regrets now he realised and turned his thoughts back to what had happened after he�d fallen for the damsel in distress routine. He remembered pulling his car in to park in front of the SUV and he�d gotten out as the woman trotted up to him all smiles and stammered out thanks for him stopping to help her. She�d told him she had a flat tyre on the back passenger side and when he�d volunteered to take a look she assured him it was completely flat and asked if he had a jack. He could remember the feel of her hand on his arm as she�d stopped him form walking around the car. He also remembered the way she�d beamed up at him looking at him from between long, dark eyelashes and he�d made the same mistake that guys throughout history had made and let himself start thinking with his dick instead of his brain.
Smiling back at her he�d assured her that he had a jack and that it would be no trouble for him to change her tyre for her, while all the time wondering if she was married and if he could get her phone number. It was when he walked around to the rear of his car and opened the trunk to reach inside, pushing aside his weekend bag, that he�d heard the squeal of tyres on the road and looking up had been blinded by the glare of headlights from a rapidly approaching car. Looking back on it now he guessed the other car had been parked up just waiting for some kind of signal from the woman and then the men inside it switched on it�s lights and made their move.
He�d immediately realised that something was wrong, but it was too late. Turning he�d seen the glint of metal flashing from the gun which was suddenly in the woman�s hand. He supposed she�d been concealing it in the small of her back and had pulled it as soon as his back was turned and she�d known that her back up was about to arrive. He�d reacted instinctively and had lunged forward using his greater height and weight to throw her off balance and knock the gun from her hand and her onto her ass in the dirt. Thinking about it now he supposed that they�d wanted him alive because that had been a really dumb thing to do and it was a wonder he wasn�t lying by the side of the road with a bullet hole in his head.
At the time though he�d just thanked his lucky stars that he�d gotten in a lucky shot that had taken her by surprise and had made a break for his open driver�s door and the glove box with his police issue weapon inside it.
As he�d raced towards the open door he could remember having flashes of clarity where he saw what was going on around him, but a lot was a blur mostly due to fear and the adrenaline in his system at the time he guessed. He�d seen the dark coloured sedan that was parked right across the front of his car effectively blocking him in and preventing him from escaping by car. He remembered that he�d very briefly thought about dodging to his right and trying to take his assailants by surprise by making a break for it through the grove of small trees who�s dark shapes he could make out in the countryside beyond the road. He wondered if he should have taken that option? If he�d tried to make a run for it maybe he�d have been able to escape and would now be wandering around the Californian countryside lost, but safe.
At the time though his main thought had been to get to his gun so he�d dismissed the idea of running in a split second and had dived for the open driver�s door of his car. Just as he�d gotten there he could remember being tackled from behind. A heavy body had slammed into him and he�d been propelled forward and had struck his head on the steering wheel of the car. Reaching up Dutch winced when he came into contact with the front right-hand side of his forehead and his fingers brushed over the scabbed over cut about half an inch long that he found there. The skin under his fingers felt bruised too and he realised it was no wonder his head felt like someone was inside and was merrily smashing a sledgehammer against the inside of his skull.
After that things got a little confused. He knew that he�d put up a fight, the various aches and pains he could feel over his body testified to that fact too. There�d been at least two male attackers and after being stunned by the blow to his head he knew he�d been subdued fairly quickly. One had held him from behind while the other had shoved a cloth over his nose and mouth. He could remember the sickly, cloying smell on the cloth and the panic that had welled up inside him and made him struggle until his head had begun to spin and he�d felt the strength leach out of his body. Chloroform he guessed or something like it must have been on the cloth. He�d obviously passed out only to wake up here alone in the dark. Dutch shivered and reaching up wiped a hand down over his face, careful to avoid the throbbing cut on his forehead.
Blowing out a steadying breath his attention turned to the other questions that were whirling around in his brain. Where the hell was he? Why the hell had he been kidnapped? Who the hell would do this?
The first question as to where he was, was impossible to answer. Locked up as he was in his dark prison cell he could be anywhere. He�d have to either wait until someone came and he could ask them and hopefully they�d tell him, or he�d have to wait until he got out of this room to try and get some clues as to his location. The thought briefly flitted through Dutch�s mind that maybe that would never happen. Maybe he was doomed to be locked up here alone in the dark for the rest of his life. That thought made his mouth go dry and his heart beat sound loudly in his ears and he had to fight down the terror that that vision gave him. Shaking his head he gathered himself refusing to give in to his fears, determined to be rational.
Forcing himself not to think about being abandoned in this room he tried to figure out why he was here. He knew immediately that his abduction hadn�t been a random spur of the moment event, it had been too well planned for that. The whole set up with the lone woman with the broken down car by the side of the road. The second car that had been nearby waiting to spring the trap. The fact that his kidnappers had come equipped with chloroform and at least one gun all pointed to organisation and thorough planning. But why him? Was it random in that he wasn�t the direct target and they�d just been waiting for the first lone motorist to come down that road and he�d just been unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? Somehow Dutch doubted it. He had a feeling deep down in his gut that they�d known exactly who they�d been waiting for. So once again why him? The only thing he could think of was that it was somehow connected with his work. After all it couldn�t be kidnap for ransom. He certainly had no money and no family who had any money or who�d pay for his release he guessed. If his abductors were planning on ransoming him to the Police Department then surely they�d have picked a better target, someone more important. He might be a bloody good detective but he couldn�t see the Department abandoning it�s "no negotiations with kidnappers or terrorists" policy to save his ass. Instead they�d make noises about how tragic it was, how their hands were tied, and what a good officer he�d been. So it had to be related to a case, but which one?
Sure he�d broken some great cases � one serial killer, numerous murderers, rapists, the occasional drugs bust especially when he�d been back in uniform, but nothing that would warrant this kind of retribution. As far as he was aware that serial killer and those murderers and rapists were mostly still serving time up in Pelican Bay, and the drugs busts hadn�t exactly been big enough to rock the Colombian drugs cartels. So if it wasn�t for money or revenge then why? He immediately regretted that question as a whole host of unsavoury and down right stomach churning thoughts and images filled his mind. Being a cop certainly gave one a whole library of different scenarios to choose from. Once again Dutch had to forcibly stop himself from disintegrating into a panic stricken heap. He told himself it was no good speculating on what might happen he�d just have to find a way to handle events as they arose.
The thought tickled at the back of his mind as to how his attackers had known where to strike. How had they known where he�d be? He was pretty sure he hadn�t been followed. Sure he hadn�t been looking for a tail, but nothing unusual had stood out during his journey. However, he had to have been under some kind of surveillance. Dutch�s mind filled with thoughts of being watched, studied. Maybe his phone being bugged so that the arrangements he�d made with Alan over the phone about his trip had been used against him. Every second this whole situation was becoming more sinister and more surreal to him.
As to the final question buzzing around his head � who? It was obvious that if he didn�t know his kidnappers motivations then he didn�t have a hope of guessing their identities.
A part of him hoped that whoever was holding him prisoner would make themselves known to him soon so that he could get some answers. While another part of him was afraid to learn what those answers would be.
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Adam