Without A Trace

Chapter 16 Justice Served

Chapter 16    Justice Served
 
 
Orlando sat curled up on the chair, covered with a blanket but shivering.  Despite the intense heat outside, and the fact that he’d turned up the air conditioner in the trailer, he was still freezing.  He shifted slightly and huddled tighter under the blanket, wincing as a sharp pain shot through his backside.  With a sob, Orli buried his face in the blanket and let the tears flow.  Every time there was a noise outside, he started, afraid that Len had returned.  He sat very still and listened intently over the whirring of the air conditioner, hoping that the noise was in fact, Viggo returning.  His heart sank when he realized that it was crew members picking up sound or camera equipment out of the mobile supply trailer which was located on the opposite side of his trailer.  With a sigh of disappointment, Orlando closed his eyes and tried to relax. He couldn’t believe that this had happened to him again.  If Viggo had not have shown up when he did, Len would have surely taken him and this time the kidnapper probably would have killed him. Viggo had been gone for more than half an hour now and he wished his lover would hurry up and come back. What was taking him so long?    
 
Not too long after the noise outside had died away, Orli heard foot falls ascend his trailer steps.  His eyes snapped open and his gaze flew to the door then riveted on the doorknob as he watched it slowly turn clockwise then counter clockwise.  He jumped slightly, his heart pounding, when there was a sudden sharp knock on the door followed by a loud rattle of the doorknob.  Viggo! he suddenly realized.  Ignoring his pain, he bolted off the chair and ran to the door.  He didn’t hesitate to flip the lock and open the door because he would recognize Viggo’s trademark knock anywhere.  He swung the door open and his eyes widened in fear when he saw the figure standing there.
 
“Hey there, sweetheart.” Denver greeted the young actor with a wide missing toothed grin. “Miss me?”
 
With a cry of fear, Orlando tried to slam the door shut but the large man skillfully slipped his leg in and against the door jam, making it impossible for Orli to shut the door.
 
Baring all his weight on the door, Orlando heaved it against Denver’s bent knee in an attempt to get the man to move his leg so he could close the door.
 
Denver howled in sheer agony as the door slammed against his leg but instead of pulling back, he brought his hands up onto the edge of the door and shoved it back, hard.
 
As the door flew back and hit him square in the face, Orlando stumbled unsteadily and sank to his knees, stunned.
 
Denver took the opportunity to quickly force his way inside, passed the grounded young man.  He then slammed the door shut and flipped the lock.  When he turned around he found Orlando looking up at him, panting, with blood trickling from his nose and split lip.  A bruise was already forming just above the boy’s upper lip and across his left cheek.
 
Denver gave him a wide leering grin. “I suspect Len’s already been at you.  You look like you’ve been fucked hard.”
 
Orlando swallowed hard and cast his gaze to the floor. “What do you want?” he whispered intimidated by the looming form above him.
 
Shifting his hands to his hips, Denver looked about the trailer casually. “Well…” he started. “I was looking for Len.”
 
Orli let his eyes drift passed his assailant to the door. “He’s not here.” He said softly, mentally calculating his chances of escape.
 
“I already guessed that, beautiful.  Was he here?”  Denver demanded.  He was starting to loose his patience with the little shit kneeling in front of him.
 
Orlando gave Denver an uneasy glance then looked at the floor again. “Yes.” He answered meekly.  He stayed still on his knees, trembling, too afraid to move. There was nowhere to go, the overweight man was blocking the only route out.
 
“When’d he leave?” Denver barked lowly.
 
Orlando cringed under the sharp inquiry and shook his head. “I-I d-don’t know.” He whispered.
 
“WHEN!” Denver commanded sharply.
 
“M-maybe an hour ag-ago.” Orlando stammered. He felt tears sting his eyes.
 
“Where’d he go!”
 
“I-I d-don’t k-know.” Orli whimpered in desperate honesty. He cowered back and flinched when Denver swiftly bent down , gripped him firmly by the hair, and jerked his head up and back, forcing Orli to make eye contact with him.
 
“Where’d he go!” the man harshly repeated, giving Orlando’s hair a sharp hard jerk.
 
“I don’t know!” Orlando cried out. He looked up at Denver, his rich brown tearful eyes pleading. “I-I don’t know! He d-didn’t say!”
 
Denver viciously twisted his hand in the chestnut curls. “On your feet, c’mon!”
 
Orlando struggled weakly to his feet and stood on trembling legs as the blood seemed to drain from his head. He fought to stay standing upright.  Probably from the door hitting me, he thought giddily as his head started to swim.
 
Denver made his way through the trailer towards the bedroom, dragging Orlando roughly with him. “Might as well enjoy you ‘til Len gets back.” He stated flatly as he pulled Orlando into the sleep area and shoved him towards the bed.
 
Orli stumbled against the bed and grappled the wall for support.  He looked at Denver in dismay, silently praying that the room would quit spinning. He was no good to himself this way. “Please, don’t do this.” He begged backing away unsteadily as Denver advanced on him in a predatory manner.
 
Denver made to grab the young Brit, who quickly side stepped and bolted passed him, making a mad dash for the door.  Swearing, the large man started after him, hot on his heels.
 
Orlando made it to the kitchen area before he suddenly felt a heavy weight ram into the back of his calves.  He yelped in surprise as he lost his balance and lurched to the floor, the wind painfully driven from his lungs.  Writhing, he lay gasping desperately for breath and tried to claw his way across the linoleum, panicking to reach the door.  Before he knew it, he was flipped over onto his back and found himself staring up into the grinning face of his attacker.
 
“Len always got to you first, the lucky bastard.” Denver growled as he quickly fingered his jeans open and dropped to his knees. “Don’t rightly matter though. He’s not here now. Got you all to myself, gorgeous little fuck.” He panted as he grabbed Orlando’s wrists with one hand and pinned them easily to the floor. “I’m gonna show you what it’s like to be fucked by a real man. Make you feel every inch of my cock.” He promised as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of Orli’s jeans and ripped them off his hips and down to his knees.
 
Dread flooded over Orlando in smothering waves and he fought to free himself. He started sobbing as he felt his lower body suddenly become partially exposed.
 
Denver quickly sat down on Orli’s legs bracing them to the floor, and effectively ceasing his struggles, then gave him a harsh backhand across the face. “Quit fighting me, fucking cock sucker!” he bellowed.
 
Orlando’s head rocked to the side and his split lip exploded under the force of the blow, sending a fine spray of blood across the floor and partway up the nearby kitchen cupboards.  He lay stunned as Denver pulled his boxers down exposing his flaccid member.  When Denver fervently started to grope him, Orli screamed in helpless protest.
 
Denver slapped his free hand over the young man’s mouth to silence him. “Shut your hole!” he snapped bitterly.
 
As soon as the large man’s hand touched his mouth, Orlando conveniently felt one finger slip in between his teeth and, without thinking, he bit down as hard as he could.  Coppery tasting fluid flowed over his tongue as he heard Denver yelp in agony so he clamped down harder.
 
Yelling expletives, Denver tore his hand from the Brit’s mouth and cradled the bloody appendage against his chest with his other hand.
 
Orlando took advantage of his sudden release and bucked his pelvis up with all his strength.
 
Caught off guard by the abrupt move, Denver lost his balance, was thrown from the lithe body, and with a grunt, landed with brute force on the floor on his side.
 
Orli quickly wormed his way out from under the oppressive weight, scrambled to his knees and swiftly hiked his jeans back up around his waist.  He was on his feet and running for the door before his assailant was even getting up.  He was at the door, fumbling with the lock when intense pain exploded through his head and threatened to take his senses. Stumbling to one knee and now not completely coherent, he stretched his arm up and feebly wrestled with the latch fighting to get it open.  Again, something hard ricocheted off his head and stars exploded before his eyes then everything went black.
 
 
****
 
 
Orlando came to with a horrific headache.  He moaned, tried to bring his hands up to hold his head, and frowned when he found them restrained.  He creaked his eyes open, squinting against the blinding light and tried to focus on the blurry image floating above him.  As that image became clearer, fear drove into Orli’s chest like a cold knife and he started to struggle against his bindings, ignoring the splitting pain in his head.
 
“Been out for a fair bit.” Denver commented flatly.  He watched the boy struggle without moving from the stool he had situated next to the bed. “Thought I might have hit you a little too hard.”
 
When Orlando found he couldn’t budge the cloth on his wrists, he relaxed and looked up at Denver, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.
 
“You know I’ve been thinking….” Denver started to confess as he brought a knife into view. “….maybe you’d cooperate a little more if you were altered.”
 
Orli’s eyes widened in complete terror and he swallowed hard as he watched his abuser casually twirl the knife between his fingers, which caused the blade to glint brightly in the light.
 
“See, I don’t figure Len needs you that bad, once he’s had a taste of you.  Keeping you alive is just asking for trouble.” Denver explained as he leaned over closer to Orlando, still rolling the knife between his fingers.
 
Orlando lay silent and still, not wanting to provoke the man further.  It obviously wouldn’t take much.  Denver was crazy and jealous enough to believe that maiming him would actually put a stop to what the man perceived to be a threat on a potential relationship he clearly wished to have with his partner.  Unfortunately, Orlando being an unwilling participant didn’t seem to make any difference in how Denver saw things.  As far as his captor was concerned, he stood in the way.  Orli’s panic went up substantially when he realized that Denver would not be satisfied unless he was completely out of the picture. Why didn’t the man just let him go? He wondered wildly.  He whimpered and trembled as Denver reached down and, using the knife, cut the button off the fly on his low riders. “Please.” He begged quietly, twisting against his bonds. “Just let me go. Please?”
 
Denver hesitated at undoing the zipper. “Can’t do that, lovely.” He confessed. “As long as you are alive Len will only focus on you. I can’t afford that. I want his undivided attention.”
 
“I-I c-could leave t-the c-country.” Orli bargained plaintively between shuddered breaths. “H-he’ll never be able to find me.”
 
Denver ignored the actor’s suggestion and undid the zipper, then roughly jerked Orlando’s jeans and boxers down out of his way.
 
Orlando squeezed his eyes shut as tears started streaking down along his temples.  He bristled and whined quietly when he felt Denver grip his testicles painfully. “D-don’t. I-I beg y-you. P-please do-n’t do t-this.” he cried with desperation edging his voice.  Dread flooded over him as he lay entirely helpless.  He was at this insane man’s mercy, unable to move or fight, bound hand and foot to the bed.  He flinched violently when cold metal touched his scrotum. “PLEASE!” he screamed in blind terror. Again he felt a tug at his balls and he cringed from the pain. He started to cry and braced himself for the inevitable.
 
A sudden knock at the door caused both captor and captive to freeze.
 
“Orli?” A muffled voice called from outside the trailer.
 
Viggo! Orlando’s tear stained eyes flew open and he looked in the general direction of the door.
 
Denver quickly took the knife away from it’s current position and immediately placed it to Orlando’s throat. “Who is it?” he demanded of the young Brit.
 
“I-it’s Viggo.” Orli answered quietly.
 
Without moving the knife from his victim’s neck, Denver quickly reached up and undid the cloth from around Orli’s wrists, releasing him. “Once I let you go, you answer the door and get rid of him.” he instructed. “No funny stuff or else!”
 
Orlando nodded gingerly in agreement as he slowly sat up and watched the large man undo the bindings on his ankles.
 
A more impatient knock on the door. “Orlando?” Viggo called.
 
Denver motioned with the knife for Orli to move. “Not a word. I’m gonna be right behind you. Just get rid of him.”
 
Orlando shifted and cautiously got up off the bed. He shucked his jeans up and redid the zipper, then obediently started for the door with Denver right behind him, knife in hand.
 
 
****
 
 
Viggo turned and looked down from the top trailer step at the director standing on the ground below him. “He’s not answering.” He said with confusion. He turned and tried the doorknob. “The door’s still locked though.”
 
“Maybe he’s sleeping or went to the lunch tent to get something to eat.” Pete offered in way of explanation.
 
Viggo shook his head, not accepting the idea. “No. He wouldn’t have left the trailer. He was way too shook up to think of eating.  Besides, I told him not to leave and to keep the door locked until I got back.”
 
“Sleeping then?” Pete suggested.
 
“Maybe.” Viggo replied, however, he didn’t believe that either.  His young love would be too skittery to be able to sleep.  Panic gripped him as a more disturbing thought entered his mind. “Or he could be more hurt than I thought and isn’t able to come to the door.” With that said, Viggo literally pounded on the door with his fist. “Orli!” he yelled out against the wooden barrier. “Orli?! You okay?” He was about to try and break the door down when he heard, from the other side, the latch of the lock slide back.  He waited patiently and watched as the door creaked slightly open and two brown eyes peered out at him from the small crack in the opened door.
 
“Orlando, what took you so long to answer?” Viggo asked quietly and waited to be let in.  When Orlando didn’t answer he frowned. “Are you all right?” he asked with gentle concern. His young lover seemed to be very preoccupied.
 
Orli cast his eyes to the floor. “I’m fine.” He muttered.
 
“Well, can we come in?” Viggo inquired, wondering why the young man hadn’t already offered.
 
Orli made no move to open the door more. “I-I’m s-sorry Vig…..” he started to explain nervously. “….c-c-ould you come back later?” he looked at Viggo hoping the Dane would pick up on the fact that something wasn’t quite right. “I-I just want t-to be alone for awhile, okay?”
 
Viggo picked up on the nervousness instantly and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “You all right, angel?” he inquired calmly.  It was then he noticed the dried blood on Orlando’s nose and upper lip. His eyes then trailed to the bruise that was forming on his love’s left cheek.
 
Orli flashed him a quick nervous smile. “I’m just tired and need a nap, yeah?”
 
Viggo’s brows furrowed further and he silently mouthed. ‘Not alone?’
 
Orlando shook his head subtly in response.
 
‘Who’s with you?’ the American silently questioned. ‘Denver?’
 
Relief flooded over Orlando and he gave a barely detectable nod as tears welled up in his eyes.
 
“Okay.” Viggo said out loud. “When should I come back?”  It took everything he had in him to control himself.  He wanted nothing more than to smash the door in and take the bastard, who had obviously beaten his lover, down.
 
“Maybe in a couple hours?” Orlando suggested placidly, again casting his gaze to the ground.  He started slightly when Viggo put a hand to his cheek and caressed fondly. “Okay. A couple hours.” The Dane agreed. “Is there anything you need?”  Inside he was anxious, scared, and frustrated at the young actor’s predicament.  He had absolutely no intention of walking away from this.  He’d think of something.
 
“No thanks, Vig.” Orli replied. He felt Denver’s hand touch the back of his neck and squeeze a hard warning.  He caught his captor’s message and continued to speak to Viggo. “I-I’m going to go have a nap now.”
 
“Okay, baby.” Viggo answered, then added. “I’ll be back in awhile.”
 
Orlando nodded and slowly shut the door.
 
Viggo stood on the top step, trying to get a hold of his rising anger.  He had to do something, and quickly, before his lover got hurt even more by the sick bastard who was in there with him.  Without a word, he quickly turned around and descended the steps.  He gave Pete a firey glance and spoke sharply as he stepped by the shorter man. “C’mon. We’ve gotta do something.  Orli’s in trouble.”  Was all he dared to offer at the moment, fearful that he might be heard inside the trailer.
 
Without a word, Pete quickly followed the actor across the compound to the supply trailer and around the other side where they’d be out of sight.
 
“Denver’s in the trailer with Orli right now.” Viggo blurted out as soon as they stopped and faced each other.
 
“What?!” Pete gaped in shock.
 
“That sick son of a bitch is in the trailer with Orlando!” The Dane repeated, the raw fear for his love more than visible on his handsome features. “I’ve got to do something! He’s already beaten him! God knows what he’ll do next!”
 
“I’ll go back to the main gates and get the police.” Pete explained then turned to leave.
 
Viggo grabbed him by the wrist and stopped him. “Wait!”
 
The New Zealand director looked up at him questioningly.
 
“Don’t go that way.” Viggo explained. “We can’t risk Denver seeing which way you’re going.  Take the long way around.”
 
“Good idea.” Pete confirmed. “What are you going to do?”
 
Viggo let go of the director’s arm and sighed. “I don’t know but I’ve got to think of something before Denver gets the chance to really hurt Orlando.”  ‘If he hasn’t already’ the actor thought.
 
“If I go get the police now….” Pete started, but Viggo cut him off. “I can’t leave it that long. It could be too late by then.”
 
“Then, what?” Pete said sharply with impatience.  He wanted to know. He knew he couldn’t offer his leading actor any solutions.
 
Viggo thought hard for a few moments, then suddenly his face brightened with an idea. “I know….” He said in firm determination.
 
Pete’s frowned in confusion. “You know what?”
 
Viggo looked at the director his blue-grey eyes firm and stormy. “I’m going in there.”
 
“Orlando won’t let you in.” The stout man stated matter of factly. “He can’t let you in.”
 
“I’ll get in.” Viggo assured. “Just go get the police.”
 
“I hope you know what you’re doing.” Pete remarked with uncertainty.  His chosen Aragorn had a habit of going off half cocked without regard for the consequences of his actions.  He’d learned that much working with the Dane over the last two years.
 
“I know what I’m doing.” The American said confidently. “Just go for the police now.”
 
Pete gave Viggo a pat on the back. “Be careful.” He advised. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
 
“All right.” Viggo concluded and watched as Pete walked to the end of the trailer, peered around the corner, carefully looking both ways, then quickly disappeared.  Viggo took a deep breath, straightened, made his way out from behind the trailer, and headed back toward Orlando’s.
 
 
****
 
 
As soon as Orlando shut and locked the door, Denver grabbed him by the hair, swung him around and slammed him up against the wall.  He quickly pressed the knife to the Brit’s throat. “Good boy.” He rumbled lowly. “Now you’d better just hope he doesn’t come back.”
 
Orli swallowed gingerly against the blade. “I don’t think he will.” He whispered, wishing his headache would dissipate.
 
“Better not, for your sake.” The large man threatened.  He let go of Orli’s hair and gripped him roughly by the arm. “Back to the bed, c’mon.” he ordered as he jerked Orlando away from the wall, let go of his arm, and shoved him in the intended direction.
 
Orlando stumbled forward from the force of the push but made no move to follow his captor’s wishes.  He didn’t particularly wish to go there, knowing what was going to happen to him once he reached the bed.
 
Denver gave him another rough shove. “Move!” he snapped bitterly. “Or I’ll do it right here!”
 
Orli reluctantly started to the back of the trailer.
 
 
****
 
 
Pete hadn’t truly run for years, but he was now, navigating his way through the small but thick grove of trees and shrubs that would lead him to the main gates.  Time was of essence if they wanted to help Viggo save Orlando.  He had to shake his head over the Dane’s headlong rush to get back into Orlando’s trailer.  Who knew what the unstable bastard inside was capable of doing?  Viggo may have good intentions, but his careless actions could end up getting himself and Orlando killed.
 
Pete skidded to a stop when he came across a fallen tree.  Cursing under his shortened breath, a quick survey of the situation told him there was no way around or over the broad expanse of tree trunk, the bushes were too thick for him to be able to go around.  He took his glasses off and mopped the excess perspiration off his face with his arm.  It was so hot out it was stifling and he still had a fair distance to go before reaching the main gate.  Now he’d have to veer off the main path, go down the steep embankment to the river, and follow it’s rocky shore to the gates that way.  It was going to add an extra ten minutes on to his journey.  With a sigh, he repositioned his glasses on his nose, turned and bolted West.  He’d have to move quickly to make it to the river in ten minutes.  There was no time to spare, his time to the gates had just doubled.
 
 
****
 
 
Denver almost had Orlando to the bed when there was another sharp knock at the door.  Both of them froze and Denver quickly placed the knife to the young man’s throat again. “Now who is it?!” he demanded, glaring murderously at his captive.
 
Orli bristled under the thundering voice. “I-I don’t know.” He whimpered.
 
Denver pressed the blade of the knife hard against the brunette’s neck, causing a thin ribbon of blood to appear on the skin along the full length of the blade. “Mortensen again?” he snapped.
 
Another sharp bang on the door.
 
In frustration, Denver jerked the knife from Orli’s throat, grabbed him by the shoulder, drew back, and backhanded the actor with all his strength.
 
Orlando reeled back from the blow and grabbed the wall to steady himself, and to keep himself from going down.  He looked up at Denver wordlessly, fresh blood streaming from his nose, down his chin, and dripping to the floor.
 
“Don’t just fucking stand there!  Answer the bloody door and get rid of whoever it is!”  Denver commanded quietly.
 
Orlando slowly straightened up and wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand.  He obediantly hobbled over to the door with his assaulter right behind him, knife still gripped tightly in his hand.  Just as Orli was about to flip the lock, something smashed into the door from the outside. The door gave in the jam and flew open, swinging right back into the youth and knocking him backwards into Denver.  Both of them stumbled and went down on their backs, Orlando landing squarely on top of the larger man.
 
Denver grunted as the added weight forced the air from his lungs. The knife was knocked from his hand and clattered across the floor, coming to rest at the foot of the kitchen cupboards.
 
Orlando was the first to regain his wits.  He looked up relieved to find Viggo looking down at him with a hand extended out for him to take. 
 
“Vig!” Orli cried as he desperately grabbed hold of the pre offered hand.
 
The Dane quickly heaved the young Brit to his feet and pushed him towards the door. “Go! Get out and go to the police!” he told his love.
 
Before Orli had a chance to comply, Denver crawled over to the knife, gripped it in his fist, and climbed to his feet.  He held the weapon out at Viggo. “Come to save the little whore?” he panted, not completely recovered form being knocked to the floor. “Think the little fuck’s worth it?” he goaded as he ran the tip of his tongue over his now bleeding lip.
 
Viggo made sure that he kept his body between Denver and Orlando. “Must be. You’ve been at him.” he retorted, pure hatred edging his voice.
 
Denver chuckled sadistically, took a step forward, and jabbed the knife at the Dane, then rolled it in his hand. “I was going to fix the slut for you.  Make sure his sole purpose was to serve only you. Make him a nice compliant bitch.”
 
Orlando saw Viggo tense at the lewd words and knew what was coming. He quickly grabbed the older man’s arm in order to prevent it. “Don’t, Vig. It’s what he wants.”
 
Viggo jerked free of Orli’s grip. “Go, Orli! Get the police!” He yelled gruffly.
 
“No.” Orlando defied. “Not unless you come with me.”
 
Keeping his eyes on Denver, the older man shook his head. “If we both go, the sick bastard gets away. You go.”
 
“Not without you.” Orlando insisted firmly.
 
Denver gave them both a wide grin. “Well, aren’t we just the sweetest, most devoted couple.” He mocked, then trained his eyes on the younger actor. “Tell me sweetheart, how often do you spread your legs for him to ensure such dedication?”
That was it.  Viggo lunged for Denver, slamming into him hard enough to cause the man to loose his hold on the knife, and stumble back.
 
Orlando watched the knife clatter to the floor and dove for it, dodging the legs of the two men wrestling above him.
 
Viggo was surprised to find the large man stronger than he appeared.  There was a lot of muscle under that flab.  He tried to force the brute back against the wall to pin him there but Denver easily slapped his hands away, grabbed him by the hair and pulled him forward driving him head first into the wall, dazing him.
 
Before the Dane had a chance to recover, Denver swept his leg under Viggo’s and body slammed him effortlessly to the floor on his back.  In mere seconds, Denver was on top of him, hands about the throat strangling him with every ounce of strength he could muster. 
 
Viggo gagged and his hands automatically went to Denver’s arms, clawing at them in an attempt to pull himself free of the vice like grip.
 
Keeping his hold on the American’s throat, Denver yanked Viggo’s head from the floor then thumped it back down as hard as he could.
 
When Viggo didn’t readily release his grip on Denver’s arms, Denver again lifted the older actor’s head up and banged it harder against the floor.  This time Viggo’s arms fell limply to the floor and he lost consciousness.
 
A few feet away, Orlando reached for the knife.
 
 
****
 
 
Pete sighed in relief as he rounded the corner in the road and saw the main gates come into view.  He slowed to a jog the closer he got to them and thanked God that two of the police cruisers were still there.  As soon as he felt that he was close enough to be heard, he started yelling for help.  Two security guards and three police officers instantly looked up in his direction and quickly started for him on foot, intent on meeting him halfway.
 
Sergeant Sequenza was the first to reach him and recognized the director right away.  “Mr. Jackson?” he inquired as they both came to a halt a few feet from each other.
 
Pete instantly bent over, rested his hands on his knees, and fought to regain his breath. He shook his head to silently signal the officer to give him a few minutes.
 
The Sergeant, noticing the sweat literally running off of the stout man, waited anxiously for him to catch his breath so he would be able to talk.
 
By now the two security guards and the remaining police officers caught up to them and stopped next to the Sergeant.
 
Sequenza turned to one of his partners. “Get Mr. Jackson some water, he’s obviously run a long way.” He requested.
 
“Yes, Sir.” The Corporal replied and started back towards his cruiser to get some bottled water they kept in the trunk of the car.
 
Pete straightened up and shoved his glasses back up his sweat slicked nose. “Orlando’s trailer…” he panted. “….The other kidnapper’s there. He has Orlando and Viggo’s gone after him.”
 
“Are you sure?” The Sergeant asked in a serious tone.
 
Pete nodded in confirmation. “We managed to speak to Orlando and he confirmed it. They’re in his trailer.”
 
The Corporal, who had gone for the water, came back with a bottle and offered it to the director.
 
Pete accepted it. “Thank you very much.” He rasped as he quickly removed the cap, put the bottle to his mouth, and drank eagerly.
 
“How long has the kidnapper been there?” Sequenza asked.
 
Pete took the bottle from his lips and swallowed what he had in his mouth, then spoke.  “About half an hour ago, at least.  I had to come the long way around in order to avoid being seen.” He explained. “God knows what that bastard would have done to Orlando if he’d managed to see me leave for help.”
 
Sequenza quickly turned to his fellow officers. “Corporal Davidson, go with Corporal Bently in car 46.  Take the back road.  Don’t let the Perp see you. I’ll go in the front and approach them that way.”
 
“Yes, Sir.” The one obviously called Davidson replied.  He quickly started for his car with Bently following.
 
Sequenza turned to the short director. “You’re with me, just try to stay out of the way.” He advised in a kind tone.
 
“Sure thing.” Pete replied and followed the Sergeant to the remaining cruiser.
 
 
****
 
 
Orlando watched in wide eyed horror as Denver pummeled his lover’s head against the floor, repeatedly.  Although the Dane was again conscious, he was too weak to fight the obese man off.
 
When Denver quit smashing Viggo’s head on the floor and started hitting him in the face with his fist, Orlando dropped the knife and flew at him in a vain attempt to knock him off his lover.  In moments however, Denver turned on the youth and with lightening speed grabbed him by the throat, and flung him effortlessly to the floor, pinning him there, right next to his beaten lover.
 
“Should have killed you a long time ago.” Denver grated as he turned his full attention on the Brit.  He shifted over Orlando’s prone body and, straddling the youth’s waist between his knees, he got a better grip on the actor’s throat and started to strangle him.
 
Orlando gasped silently as the strong hands encircling his throat tightened, robbing him of his breath.  He brought his right hand up to Denver’s face and weakly started clawing at it, hoping to catch the man’s eyes in the process and gain some ground to escape.
 
Denver jerked his head back out of Orli’s reach and just tightened the hold he had on the boy’s neck, relishing in the brunette’s choked wheezes.
 
As Orlando’s world started to dim, he reached desperately along the floor with his right hand, fingers skittering along the linoleum, searching for the knife.  He knew it was close to where he now lay because he’d seen it as he was thrown to the ground.  Just as he was starting to loose his senses, his index finger grazed the handle of the weapon. In a last ditch effort to save his and Viggo’s life, he jerked sideways, just enough to be able to get the knife in his grasp.  With his last bit of strength, he swung his arm up, knife in hand, and drove it right to the hilt into the left side of the man’s chest.
 
Denver let out a surprised cry, let go of Orli’s throat and grabbed reflexively with both hands at the knife imbedded in the side of his chest.  He looked down at Orlando momentarily then let his gaze shift to the knife protruding from his chest.
 
Coughing, Orlando lay still, frozen in fear as Denver curled one hand around the knife handle and slowly started to pull it from his body.  He flinched when he heard the sound of metal scraping morbidly against bone as the knife came free. He watched as blood seeped through Denver’s shirt slowly, starting out as a small mark that rapidly blossomed into a larger patch that covered most of the front of the man’s shirt.
 
Once the knife was free of his body, Denver looked at it as though he were dreaming.  He then slowly turned it blade point down in his blood soaked hand, tightened his grip on the handle, then let his eyes drift down and lock on the brunette trapped beneath him.
 
Orli’s eyes widened in terror and he braced himself when he realized Denver was going to stab him.  He squeezed his eyes shut and prepared for the pain.  When it didn’t come immediately, he opened his eyes just in time to see Denver let the knife slip from his limp fingers and fall to the floor.  Denver suddenly trembled as he drew a shuddered rattling breath then toppled sideways to the floor and lay still.
Frightened and in shock over what he’d just done, Orlando lay still for a few moments just looking in disbelief at the obvious dead man crumpled on the floor beside him.  Then reality hit. ‘Viggo!’ he thought in panic. He slowly rolled to his side, got to his hands and knees and desperately crawled over to where Viggo lay barely conscious.  He settled on his knees next to his lover and ran an unsteady hand through the messed dark hair. “Viggo?” he called in despair.
 
Viggo let out a groan, opened his eyes and looked up at the beautiful brunette.
 
“You okay, Vig?” Orli asked in a shaky voice as tears misted his eyes.  He continued to pet the older man’s hair affectionately.
 
“Fine.” Viggo murmured, when in all actuality, his head was pounding with pain. He brought his hand up to Orlando’s face and lovingly wiped the blood from the young man’s split lip. “You, baby?”
 
“I’m okay.” Orli whimpered, fighting his tears.
 
Viggo gave Orlando a weak but reassuring smile. “It’s okay, angel. Everything’s okay.” He comforted. He was too weak to attempt getting up.
 
With a sob, Orlando collapsed next to the Dane and buried his face against the older man’s chest and cried, hard.
 
Viggo wrapped an arm around the young man’s shaking form and gave him a consoling squeeze. “It’s gonna be all right, baby.” He rasped barely audible.
 
They were still in that position ten minutes later, when Pete and the police arrived at the scene.