Drip. Drip. Drip. The incessant dripping of the metallic looking water on the pipe she was shackled to was starting to get on her nerves. Pulling onthe handcuffs that held her arms behind her in another useless attempt to free herself, Karen Simms looked about her (as well as she could since the room was almost pitch black, except for one naked bulb which hung from the ceiling that made a candle's light took like the sun) and cursed to herself. Again. Hair bedraggled, clothes torn (her best evening dress, at that), and a headache from being knocked around by a pair of low-life goons dressed in black (was there any other kind?), she looked a far cry from the usually chic captain of the 101st. Her companion didn't look much better. Served him right. Despite the fact that no one had come to interrogate them in the 20 min. it had been since they'd woken up in the room, she was certain that he was the reason she was in this mess instead of in the third row of the 10th anniversary tour concert of Le Miz they had been on their way to.

"You know something, I never got kidnapped before I met you." Looking over at her date with a mixture of exasperation and mock-reproach, she kicked him softly in the shin to emphasize her point.

"Didn't know what you were missing, did you?" Kermit Griffin, sans glasses and jacket, with a bloody lip, black eye, and a badly twisted arm, was shackled next to her on the next pipe. "Never boring though."

"Ha, Ha. Can you reach my hair?"

"What for? Oh, the old use-a-bobby-pin-on-the-handcuff-tumbler trick. You've been watching too much David Copperfield. They fixed that defect long ago."

"You have a better idea, Mr. Hot-Shot Ex-Mercenary?"

"The usual. Wait for the goons to come back, knock them out and take their keys."

"Brilliant plan, except for one thing, how do you plan on knocking them out with both hands shackled to a pipe and your ankles bound? They did a good job of capturing us when we weren't bound."

"Good point, ma capitaine."

"We don't even know who these creeps are. I assume you didn't recognize any of them from some other kidnapping?"

"No, sorry. Standard issue thugs. They all look alike."

"Hmmm. Spoken like a true mercenary."

Just then, the metal door of their dank cell creaked open and a face from the past walked in.

****************************

Peter Caine was awake, which was not too unusual except that it was 3 o'clock in the morning. He couldn't figure out why but something was niggling at the back of his mind. If he could just reach it. He sat up from the divan to center himself and was about to enter a state of meditaion when his phone rang. He groaned. *Why did I ever get a phone here.* He picked up the receiver. "Caine."

"Master Caine, this is Teri , Holly's babysitter. Have you seen the Captain or Kermit?"

"No, what's wrong."

"They haven't come home yet, my shift was over two hours ago and I'm starting to get worried. The Captain would never stay out past our agreed time without calling."

"You're right. Do you want me to come over and watch Holly? I can start calling around. Weren't they going to the Le Miz concert?"

"Yeah. Look, I'll stay here with Holly. I don't have to be in class until 10:00. Please call me when you hear anything?"

"Sure, don't worry. If you hear anything, call the cellular. Bye."

Throwing on some jeans and a turtleneck he found in a heap at the edge of the bed, Peter reached for the phone again to call Strenlich at home. *Come on, Strenlich. Answer the phone. Don't tell me that you and Kelly are out too. I've got to get out more.*

"Hello, Kelly? It's Peter. Put the Chief on the line. Thanks. Chief? Have you heard from the Captain? .... Her babysitter called. Kermit & she never came home last night ..... Yeah, yeah, they could be doing the horizontal rumba somewhere but, they would have called to say they weren't coming home. ..... Yeah, okay, I'll meet you at Kermit's place. Bye."

"I knew something was wrong. I've got to master this bad news early warning system in my head." Peter said to himself. He stopped on his way out of the door to call Kermit's pager number. No response. *Kermit, where are you?*

*************************

Kermit Griffin and Karen Simms were wondering the same thing when the door to their cell swung open and in stepped their host after waving his henchmen back to guard the stairs.

"Straker." Kermit spoke the name with a voice dripping with venom.

"Hello, Kermit. Been a few years since the camp in Monmooth, hasn't it?"

Irritated from being in a cell instead of in her $150 seat at Le Miz listening to Colin Wilkinson sing 'Bring Him Home.', Karen cut in. "What the hell are we doing here? Look, I don't know who you are and I don't care-"

"Now, now, pretty lady. Captain Simms, isn't it?" He kneeled down to touch her hair then continued lower to touch one of the straps on her gown while she jerked back in disgust. "No need to speak so harshly. Sorry about the accommodations. Don't worry. They're only temporary." Turning his head back towards Kermit, he said in a conversational tone, "Is she the reason that your new-found boy scout rectitude was stirred the last time we met? I must admit, " he stopped to fondle Karen's bare arm and shoulder as she again jerked away and glared, "... my better nature might be pricked by this beautiful lady here. You always had good taste."

"Thanks. Now, get your hands off of her, Straker, and get to the point. What the hell do you want?"

"Direct, as always my friend. Ok, we'll get to the point. My sources tell me that you've been in touch with Blaisdell. That he's been passing you sensitive items. I need to retrieve those items as well as neutralize Blaisdell's source."

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about Straker. What items? What is this -- a bad remake of the Maltese Falcon? Why don't you look in the yellow pages under mercenaries, moles, and missing items. I'm sure-" He was cut off by a vicious backhanded blow to his face.

"Don't push me Kermit. Now this can be easy or this can be painful.
You're going to tell me what I need to know, either way. You're choice."

Kermit spit out bloody saliva on his captor's shoes. "Doesn't matter, Straker.. I don't have what you're looking for." He grunted as Straker gave him another vicious blow, this time to the ribs.

"Stop it! He's said he doesn't have what you want. Let us go." Karen lashed out at their captor with her legs, catching his midsection with the heels of her shoes.

Quickly turning from Kermit, Straker grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her face within inches of his. "Ah, pretty lady. Do you feel neglected? Just let me finish with your mercenary friend and I'll remedy that ..." he stopped to run his other hand up and down her leg, "... I promise."

"Step away from her, Straker."

"Or what, Griffin? You'll take me out with your bare hands?" He laughed in Kermit's face and then roughly pushed Karen away from him to re-focus on Kermit. "Ah, but, I digress." He grabbed Kermit's head and slammed it back against the pipe that held the ex-mercenary. "Come on, Kermit. Usually, this would be fun but time is of the essence this visit. Or would you rather I interrogated your lovely lady friend? She might know something."

Kermit eased his head from the pipe. "You know she doesn't. Blaisdell hasn't given my any packages. Or letters. This is just a waste of time."

"You sound sincere, Kermit, but we all know that you were the best liar of us all. Or, maybe you don't remember. I can fix that." Turning around suddenly, he took up what looked like a doctor's bag. Taking a syringe from the black bag, he tapped at the side of it with his index finger and grabbed Kermit's arm. "You remember this drug, don't you Kermit? Sodium Penathol. It should shake out those cobwebs in that brain of yours. You'll be telling me everything I need to know. Maybe even some things I don't need to know."

"Just do it."

Emptying the contents of the syringe in Kermit's arm,, he stood up to leave. "Don't worry, Griffin. I'll come back in one hour, when you're more relaxed." Straker looked over at Karen. "See you later, pretty lady."

*************************

Peter and Strenlich pushed open the door of Kermit's apartment and found a destroyed living room. The coach pillows had been cut up, pictures ripped from frames, and books shredded.

"Jeez. Whoever did this was pretty thorough. There should be a sign outside Kermit's door. 'Kidnapping every winter. What's this, the second time the Captain's been abducted from here? It's a wonder she'll step foot in the place." Strenlich said with some asperity.

Peter smirked grimly. "Kermit just has that way about him." He was just about to head back out of the door when he saw images in his mind. He placed a hand on the door jam to focus the vision. "They were taken to a warehouse. On the docks. Can't tell which one."

"How do you know that, Peter? On second thought, forget I asked. Why don't we go scout the docks? I'll call in backup from the car. Let's go."

"We need to hurry. Kermit's been hurt. I can tell."

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