AN: Bet you weren't expecting this to ever be updated! To be honest, I lost my muse completely until about six weeks ago, when the idea for the rest of this fic suddenly hit me and I ran to write this chapter on my laptop. The next part of the story is kind of shameful: I forgot my ffnet password. I know, I'm stupid. Sorry about that one, everybody! Still, hopefully you'll all enjoy this chapter as much as you have the rest of the fic!
"Kidnapped?" Eric replied, completely astounded, "But…how?" The policeman sighed, wringing his hands together.
"Mr. Matthews, I'm sure—"
"Agent Matthews." Eric snarled, and the policeman gulped, Eric plan to intimidate the lower ranked man clearly working.
"Sorry. Agent Matthews, I can assure you that we're doing our best to find out the answer to your question as we speak. We have a team spread throughout the building, checking for prints or anything else that can tell us where to start our search for Miss Hart." Eric checked his watch, shooting the man a withering look.
"You mean to tell me that Gracie Hart has been missing for nearly six whole hours, and you're still checking the place for prints?" His voice full of barely masked disgust. The policeman tugged at his shirt collar, looking extremely uncomfortable.
"Well, she wasn't actually discovered missing until around seven thirty this morning, so—"
"You mean that, despite the fact that Miss Hart is the face of the FBI, and therefore a most probably someone who should have someone outside her room at all time, let alone someone checking on her during the night, no one thought to see if she was okay until half past seven?" The policeman sat up a little, narrowing his eyes at Eric's words.
"It isn't really up to us what the hospital choose to do with their staff, Agent Matthews. If you have a complaint about how Miss Hart was being treated, kindly voice it to somewhere who works here." He said coolly. However, Eric wasn't defeated, more than happy to let out his anger over Gracie's disappearance out on this man.
"I'm sure that if you'd wanted to, it wouldn't have taken a huge amount of effort to secure a couple extra people on security here; it wasn't as if you people weren't aware that she was a high risk patient." He said, the bite in his words silencing any argument the policeman may have been going to put forward. With that, Eric stood up abruptly, leaving the room, smirking when he heard the relieved sigh from the terrified policeman.
"And that is why I went straight into the FBI." He murmured to himself.
Gracie's eyes cracked open, blinking slowly a few times until everything was no longer blurry. She went to lift a hand to brush her hair out of eyes, but was surprised to find that she couldn't move it. Still slightly groggy, she groaned quietly, struggling to try and lift her hands to her face. Finally, she looked down, and was confused to see that, not only were her wrists bound, but her whole body was tied up in thick rope, her ankles tied together ad her arms held tightly to her sides. She scanned the room, panicking when she realized that she was in a small, dank box of a room as opposed to her white walled hospital room. Her heart racing, she tried to cry for help, but her voice was still quiet from the drugs she'd been given the night before by the nurse at the hospital. She carried on in her attempts to shout, hoping her voice would grow stronger as she spoke, but broke up as the large door in the opposite corner of the room creaked open, a figure stepping into the doorway.
"What do you mean 'it's not our priority'?" Eric shouted, slamming his fist down on the desk. McDonald sighed, running a hand over his face.
"In case you hadn't realized, Matthews, Gracie was let go from the FBI before she went missing. Therefore, she is not out priority!"
"So what, we just leave her to be killed by these bastards?" Eric said, unable to understand why McDonald would suggest anything of the sort.
"Listen, Eric." McDonald said, sitting back down. "She's going to be found. Just because she's not number one on our list doesn't mean that there isn't anyone looking for her – you said yourself that there were people at the hospital searching for any evidence there was there. Just leave it to the police, Matthews." He let out a small smile. "They're no FBI, that's for sure, but they're not completely incompetent.
"Leave it Matthews, unless you want to be the next FBI we have to dismiss." McDonald said firmly, and Eric let out a frustrated groan, slamming McDonalds' door on the way out.
"Is that Agent Foreman?" Eric said, speaking quietly into the phone. He was sat on the floor by his desk, the phone pressed to his ear with one hand, the other holding a stack of agent files. The one on top read 'Agent 5678355: Foreman, Jeff'. Eric noticed the red 'Released' stamp on the top right hand of the paper, and wondered exactly how many people had been fired in the attempt to save Cheryl and Stan.
"Yes, who is this?" A polite voice spoke down the phone, and Eric checked the notes he'd written for himself, all the while trying to keep himself hidden in the dark office. He'd had to wait until every other agent had left before raiding the massive archive of data for the files he wanted.
"This is Agent Eric Matthews. Have you heard about Gracie Hart?" A sigh on the other end of the phone.
"Yes, it's been on the news today."
"I was wondering if you'd help be part of a team to try and locate her. The FBI aren't even going to get involved, so I'm going to try and find her myself. I know you helped her with finding Fields and Fraiser, so I was hoping you'd be willing to help now." There was a slight pause down the end of the phone.
"Count me in." Eric grinned, putting a tick next to Foreman's name on the list, directly below the one he's put by Sam Fuller's just minutes ago.
"Fantastic. Now, here's what we're going to do…"
"Good morning, Miss Hart!" The man said, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. "I hope you had a pleasant night." He said, his words laced with sarcasm.
"Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?" She asked, her voice still weak. The man laughed loudly, coming closer to her.
"Who am I?" I'm sure the name I go by now won't mean much to you, Miss Hart, but I never was one to turn down a simple question from a pretty girl. My name is David Martin." He waited a few seconds. "No, I didn't think you'd recognize it. It wasn't the name I was born with, you see. It would have been far too difficult to make it own my own if I'd kept my family's name, so I changed it." He grinned, his smile a little too wide and making Gracie shrink back. "I think you may be more familiar with my real name, , my surname, anyway. So let me introduce myself properly." He crouched down and extended a hand to her. "Hello, Grace Hart. My name is David Morningside."
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