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Hoyt and Arlen were having a hard day. They've been jumping between open and shut cases onto others. Bunch of robberies, disturbances and minor complaints. It was holiday season and they were under-staffed, so the duo volunteered to help with some work. Little did they know there was plenty of it, even more than usual.
It was getting late and neither of them were thinking straight. They ended up arguing about getting some officers out of their holidays to back up the department. Beau didn't like that. He defended they earned those free days to spend their time with their families, considering he didn't have to. He and Hoyt were enough to keep everything in place. Although she didn't deny that, the two of them couldn't work full time.
They were heading to the station to finish their shift for the night when Poppernak warned them about a last disturbance at a grocery store. Apparently there was a drunk that wouldn't leave the building and the employees needed to close it.
"Are you serious?" She sighed heavily and caressed her temple, trying to calm down her exhaustion. She really wanted to head home and rest.
"Come on, Hoyt. We are the only ones available to help these people." Beau was tired too, but his righteousness wouldn't let him run from that responsibility.
"And that's why you should call people in. We are in no condition to continue like this!"
"Let's not go through this again, shall we?"
Jenny stopped and parked the truck in front of the station. She took a big breath and looked at his partner.
"Alright, I'll call some guys tomorrow morning." He finally gave in and drew a slight smile to let her know he supports the idea. He looked around. "This isn't the grocery store." He joked.
"I need to rest, Arlen. Now, get out of the car or I'll take another."
Seeing her serious, drained and overworked face and stance, he knew she wasn't bluffing. "Hoyt..." He looked at her in the eyes, almost begging but not giving that out. "...come on." Without further wait, she opened the driver's door and hopped off.
"Night, Temporary Sheriff!" She said as she took another car and drove off.
He stayed in the car analyzing what he could do now. All of the officers in this shift were busy with piles of work. That meant no possible backup. Every part of his police training mind told him not to go alone but, what other choice did he have? He could easily handle a drunk and finally go home like the partner that just ditched him.
Leaving the truck parked, Beau took his own this time. Who knows what Jenny would do to him if he caused a single scratch to her drive? He radioed his current situation and informed he was heading to the store.
Two employees were waiting outside with their arms crossed and seemingly angry, understandably enough. The Sheriff Department took their sweet time to get there. The Drunk already trashed the place and the workers luckily trapped the guy inside the one-story building, not letting him out until the authorities came and let them manage this. He was dangerous and had a knife.
Beau apologized and went in the back. With his gun at hand, he kicked the back door and flew it open. As soon as he did, the light went off and he looked up to the ceiling. He then reached his right pocket and took out a flashlight.
The situation was getting uneasy. A drunk guy with a knife and the lights were out? That's never good, so he was more alert and forced his senses to be more aware of his surroundings. Unfortunately, it was too late. He lost the ability to focus his eyes or regain control of his body and fell to the floor hard, as he felt a hard and large object hit the back of his head. He didn't want to give the attacker the satisfaction of taking him down so he wanted to get up and fight, but he was so tired from the energy drained working all day that the only thing he could do was fall unconscious.
When the two employees saw a dark blue van storm off the same spot the Sheriff was, confusion reigned on their faces. They carefully approached the back doors, he was gone.
They called again and left notice of the situation. Help was on the way. With extreme caution, Poppernak scanned the store and found The Drunk sleeping with half empty bottles of alcohol around him. Probably passed out from drinking too much. He called an ambulance and put him under arrest. But that was the least of their concerns. This abduction was big. Not only they had an officer of the law, they had their boss.
They couldn't have chosen a worse time to do this. There wasn't enough manpower to stop them, or even put up a fight. It was 2 AM. The first thing Mo thought was to warn Hoyt about this. He texted and called her, no response. When more backup arrived, he asked them to close the area. There may be something that could help them find Beau. Afraid the same would've happened to Jenny, he went to her house to check.
He knocked, almost banging the door a couple times. No one would come out. He decided to break it open and called her name. She ran down the stairs with her gun pointing at him.
"Mo? What are you doing here?" She looked like she had the most deep sleep and just woken up. Her blonde hair all over her face and with PJs on. Once guns were lowered, they walked towards the other.
"I've been calling you like crazy! I thought they got to you too..." Pop's face relaxed a little but still had an anxious look.
"What do you mean 'they got me too'? Has something happened?"
"It's Beau. Someone has him."
Between curses and self-loathing words, she changed clothes quick and headed to the station with her friend. He explained everything to her. About the grocery store and how witnesses saw that a van took off with the Sheriff.
Everyone inside the station was panicking not knowing exactly what to do so she stepped in and gave a speech, taking over the situation.
"Okay everyone, listen up. I know it's late and we're all tired. We don't have the strength to do this how we should. Beau needs our help and that means all of our help. I want all the people who have been all day here, go home and rest. You're no good tired. You get back here first thing in the morning. The rest, I want a group looking into the CCTV around the grocery store and find that blue van. Mo, did the employees get the number plate?"
"Uh, yeah! It's KA•Z80Q3." He said, reading his little notepad.
"Great, run that. I want that drunk guy in a cell up to interrogation as soon as he's cleared by the doctors. He has to know something, find it. Someone prepare a file with all the big cases Beau has worked on in Houston. Check if any of the criminals we arrested and locked up has escaped or got out, they may hold a grudge. He might have his phone on him, if they haven't destroyed or thrown it out already, track it. I'm going to check out the store. If you find anything, anything at all, I want to be the first person you tell, okay? We will find him. Let's roll." After her last words, everyone started following her orders and working in harmony. All the chaos she saw when they arrived was now gone and filled with utter focus.
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He woke up with a great headache waiting for him. He appeared to be sitting on the floor, back pressed against a pillar and hands tied behind the concrete. His legs, however, were free. He could stand up, if he wanted, but not move. His arms felt sore as if it had been a while since he's been in that awful position.
His vision was blurry and blinked often to straighten it. He caught sight of the place where he was being kept. The usual, some abandoned building, maybe a factory. It was large and empty except for some broken furniture, chairs and a table near him. Sunlight could come from those big shattered windows, but it looked like it was still early, somewhere between 5-6 AM. He remembered the time he got to the store. He might've been gone for more than 3 hours. They sure hit him hard.
As he began to recover his senses, he suddenly felt cold. He looked down, his black denim jacket and his red sweatshirt nowhere to be seen. Left with his dark gray t-shirt, blue jeans and brown boots. At least they could have the decency to keep him warm, he thought. Then a figure popped in his eyesight.
"That's a relief. Here I thought my boys threw you into a coma!" The man joked, looking down at him.
"Not comatose but, they still did a great job." Beau joked back "What do you want? A ransom?" He had one eye forced closed by the pain in his head and couldn't see the man clearly, but could tell he was wearing some two-piece suit.
"Revenge."
"Revenge? Last I checked I haven't done anything serious around here. I think you got the wrong guy, buddy."
The man grabbed him by his chin and closed their space, to let Beau give him a good look. "Not around here alright, Arlen." He said in a deep voice.
"No." the tied man said, almost whispering. He looked at him up and down with frowned eyebrows as if he was trying to believe his eyes.
"Yes." he released the grip and stepped back.
"I killed you, you son of a bitch."
"If you just could've let me go that day, you wouldn't be in this position. But then, what kind of friend would that make you if you let your partner's murderer live?" Beau remained silent, looking at him with hatred. "So you can understand what I'm going to do here, do you?"
"Hmm, let me guess. Shoot me like I did to you? Classy."
"That'd be way too easy, and too fast for you. Do you know how much I suffered, how much time I had to wait to even walk? I'll make sure you feel it too."
"I'm truly sorry for that, Damien. To be honest, I intended those shots to be fatal." Beau replied cocky, he soon began to regret it.
Damien laughed along with Beau while he rolled his sleeves, then stopped. "Get him up" He ordered his lackeys. They grabbed him by his arms, lifted him harshly and held him. He went to the table and picked up a distinguishing knife. It wasn't your standard kitchen one, this looked almost like a dagger with strange engravings on it.
Slowly walking up to the police man, leaving a few inches between them, he held his head and started to nick his left cheekbone.
It wasn't bad enough to make the man scream or shut his eyes, but he did grunt under his teeth. Damien liked that. If he fights back, it meant more time to play. Sequentially, he made more cuts all over his body. On his neck and hands lay small ones but made larger and deeper cuts on his arms, chest, stomach and legs. Beau was left with no other choice but to start grunting louder and letting heavy breaths leave his mouth, making the headache worse. He was losing a lot of blood. Although Damien was being careful and calculating, he obviously wanted the joy to last longer.
He stopped cutting, cleaned the knife with a handkerchief and put it down on the table. With the short break, after long minutes that seemed hours carving into his flesh, Beau felt like passing out. If only they'd let him.
"I'm not done with you, boy. Wakey, wakey!" Damien shouted as he pinned his first punch on Beau's left cheek. Letting him time to react, he grunted and regained his breath. He felt the cut on that cheek open more and burn like hell. But that was the only moment he had to process it as his torturer continued his mission without stopping. Punching him over and over and over, making sure he broke bones and swelled muscles. When he got tired, he was kicking him on the floor with the same power, probably breaking a couple ribs until he couldn't hear Beau groan anymore. He was already spilling blood through his nose and mouth, sometimes coughing it. He was screwed. All the awful pain he was feeling started to fade. No, Damien didn't stop. His body couldn't handle it and passed out.
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They entered the store and went straight to the back. There were two officers labeling every clue they could find, without moving anything. Hoyt saw Beau's gun and flashlight 6 feet from the back door. There were also drops of blood, which she hoped it wasn't from him but surely it was. She ordered to have it tested. If it wasn't from The Sheriff, it had to be from an attacker. The place was trashed but they couldn't tell if it was from the drunk or the attackers. When Poppernak went to tell her something, she had a completely different expression.
"Jenny?" he asked gently, putting a hand on her shoulder. She looked back at him. She was scared and had watery eyes.
That's when she couldn't take it anymore. She bent down and cried. "It's all my fault. I should've been with him." Tears fell from her cheek to her knees. Pops handed her a tissue as she took it to clean her face. "Maybe... Maybe I could've helped and he wouldn't-"
She couldn't continue. They didn't know if he was still alive. But if he was and someone wanted a ransom, why didn't they call yet? Beau was important to her, she couldn't stand something bad happening to him. Deep inside her she knew he was more than important. The thought of him gone breaks her heart to a thousand pieces. All because of her.
Seeing her reaction, Mo hugged her. Both needed that and they had to be strong to push through this but it was all too much. Her phone buzzed. She thanked Mo for the hug and looked at her phone. There were news about Beau and it would be better if she saw everything back at the Station. Before going, they checked if the store had camera footage from the inside. Surprisingly it did, they probably ran on emergency power. They saw all of it. How he was hit unconscious and dragged out by 2 men and other two making sure nobody saw them. With more streams of tears threatening to fall, she made a copy of the footage and headed back to see what information the crew gathered.
Turns out, the reason Beau left Houston was not only to be with his daughter, but because of a big case gone wrong. Years ago there was a huge motorcycle gang shootout at a place called Twin Peaks in Texas. A lot of people died, and there were some undercover agents that were involved in that. Arlen's partner, Cordell Smith, was one of those agents and something led to the operation going tragically sideways. Smith was killed by the gang's leader. That made Beau fall into a vendetta, amongst other things, and finally took revenge on his partner.
Tracking the phone was unsuccessful. They found it on a road near the store. Investigating the arrested criminals was a dead end, no one escaped and the ones who got out were getting their lives back. No one seemed suspicious. As per the famous drunk bastard, he just said he 'returned a favor' to a friend and baited the Sheriff's Department into coming. He says he didn't know they were going to abduct The Sheriff but 'whatever he did, he probably deserved it'. After asking how that friend looked, they put him in a cell until transfer to a prison for accessory to kidnapping, maybe even murder.
The only hope they had was to find that damned blue van. The number plate was reported stolen a couple days ago. They rely on CCTV cameras and try to follow it from the store to wherever it stops, and that could take hours.
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They moved him from the pillar to a foldable metal chair. Cuffed again behind his back and now by his ankles too. The sitting position wasn't comfortable but it did beat being on the cold concrete floor. He tested how tight and strong were the cuffs restraining him. Knowing the Department was already looking for him, he could make their job easier if he could freely use his body and run. Not that he could in his current state.
"I thought I made it clear that you won't come out of this" Damien laughed at his weak attempt to get out. He's sitting on the table right in front of him. On said furniture, there lied a taser next to his right hand.
"You're so sick." Beau declares, shaking his head left and right, looking at the floor smiling.
"Oh, losing your mind already? What is so funny?"
"You could just end this and put a bullet in my head." He looks at him with cockiness. "Instead, you're having a tantrum."
Damien gets off the table, picks up the taser and walks up to him once again. He leans the tip of the weapon above Beau's Adam's apple, making him tilt his head back. "You would want that, wouldn't you? A simple shot and it all can end." He smiles coldly by the thought of the police man guessing he could get out that easy. "See, even after I kill you, do you really think I'll stop there?"
Beau's expression switches from a confident stance to a worried, terrified one. "Yes, I know a psycho or two would choose to make you watch as I kidnap, torture and kill all your loved ones. Well, I'm not that patient. You're lucky you won't see it." As soon as he stops talking, electricity zaps on his neck going through his entire body. In drowning screams, he feels an extremely burning sensation and paralyzing him entirely, even his thoughts. The previous cuts and broken bones made it worse, the pain was unbearable.
Damien steps back and gives a nod to two of his man-pets. Beau tried to recover his breath only to get gallons of freezing water spilled from the top of his head, to take his breath away again. Now soaked, he's more vulnerable and the latest pain could not compare to what was coming. At this point, Beau started to think the Department won't get there in time.
"Music to my ears!" Damien says as Beau's full screams fill every inch of the factory. It was the first time he could made him cry. Like the Cherry on top of the cake, with a bit of electricity that could easily stop his heart.
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7 hours since The Sheriff's Abduction and all the team was focused on following the van through the CCTV while Hoyt went through the Gang's Ex-Leader's records. His body was never found, just the testimony of Beau allegedly shooting him 3 times on the back and a final one on the head. If that was true, there was no way he could still be alive but, again, there was no body and The Drunk guy described 'his friend' exactly as Damien.
'About 60 and 5 foot 7, some gray hair but hardly recognizable as he had white tinted hair. He had a scar on his left eyebrow and a liking to suits'. It had to be him. A bad penny always turns up. She was trying to get a hold of some type of MO that could help her understand his plans. Maybe then she could trace his footsteps and find his friend before something irreversible happens.
But that was a poor excuse to keep her mind busy, there was nothing else to do than rely on the tech team. She stood from her office desk and went to get coffee. The station wasn't hard to read as she came in. Everyone was trying their best to get the boss back, some more tired than others. Shifts were already switched, so fresh minds could take over the work and let the others rest. They had each other's backs, but the thought of not being fast enough invaded all their minds. What if they were already too late?
Until they weren't. After following the van through all cameras of the town, they managed to see where Beau might be getting held. It was clear that the place would be free from cameras but, what about the previous ones? The Tech team saw the vehicle go past a road and never got to the other side. The kidnappers must've taken a hidden path. Taking a map of the surrounding area, an abandoned factory stayed some miles from the big road. No path lead to the building historically and should be the perfect place to do illicit work.
No further ado, Hoyt gathered a Rescue Team and made a quick and easy plan to get their Boss out of harm's way and take down the damned people who kidnapped him. Equipping themselves with heavy bulletproof vests and big guns, they got into the police truck and headed to the factory like there was no tomorrow. She knew this wasn't professional anymore. If something happened to him, she would never forgive herself. Probably falling into the same vendetta Beau fell too.
Beau was just being the best Sheriff anyone could ask for. The best partner, friend and she thought maybe one day something else. But that went to nothing the moment she left him in that parking lot. She was tired and questionably angry. The memory of Beau's face being confused with a tad of sadness when he was left alone on her truck, will never leave her brain. Shaking her head trying not to let the emotions get the best of her in now's situation. They now stopped the vehicle close and far enough from the factory to hopefully not be noticed. The Blue Van was there.
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He was unconscious, yet again. Although it was harder to wake him up, he was weaker. He did not care if he wasn't binded to anything superficial, he was just in wrist cuffs laying on the cold floor with the opportunity to stand up and run away but he couldn't. Damien's torture was too big and said man knew his toy was about to be ditchable and throw his lifeless body anywhere. Beau was a strong man, both physical and mentally. He could live with all the cuts and bruises, probably even get away. The problem was his heart. The electric shocks got him good, giving him heart attacks. Black circles under his eyes, every limb in his body felt numb and the worst of it all was that he was starting to believe there was no way out.
This was it. This is how it was going to end, all of it. All because of a stupid Vendetta that will not only kill him, it also tore his family apart. After thinking he killed Damien, the pain of losing his brother-like partner didn't go away, so he started drinking. Praying the alcohol would help him forget all of it. Only it made it worse. He often arrived home drunk to hell, worrying his wife and daughter. Never got aggressive on them but he was deeply wounded inside, he was getting suicidal and over-protective. Carla didn't want to let Emily see her Dad like that. She tried to help but, what can you do if that person doesn't want to be saved? Then he started drinking while on duty, screwing everything up even more. That was the last straw and seeing there was nothing to fix him, they divorced. If something was going to happen, for her sake, she didn't want to be around.
He received court-ordered therapy and got his badge taken away temporarily. His bosses, partners and friends knew he could do better and hoped for him to fight back. Fortunately, he recovered with a lot of work, strength, discipline and most importantly, time. He became a new man and tried to stay better. Got his badge back and knowing he couldn't stay in Houston, he and Carla talked again. Not to his surprise, she had moved on and his daughter now had a stepfather. It wasn't to his liking but it was better than not having one at all. Over time, they patched things up and moved here to be able to see them every now and then.
For the first time, he felt like everything started to fall back in place. He was happy, his family was happy, he could continue to do his job and meet amazing people, one of them Hoyt. "Hoyt..." The thought of her made his heart suffer even more. Did she know he was gone? Was she going to rescue him from this hell? Was... Was she still mad at him? The weak eyes that were staring into the abyss were closing once again when he felt a dull, hard-pressing force step on his head.
"Not too fast, Arlen." Damien heard the man grunt again, not with the same force that he had before and took his foot off the head. "I know that feeling." He crouched next to his face to see Beau's unwilled look. "That's exactly how I felt that day. 'I'm going to die, aren't I?' and 'If only I could use my legs to get up and run...' but you can't, can you?" He stood up in a perfect stance, his back straight, feeling his job was almost accomplished. "We still have work to do."
Beau snorted with coughs and as hard as he could he said "What else can you do to me? I'm already dead."
The well dressed man smiled half cold and half empathetic. "It's not for you, Arlen. Once you're dead, I'm getting your body dropped at your station. Not only they'll be devastated, they'll have to look thoroughly at your body like it's a clue for a puzzle they will need to resolve."
"Throw away a broken toy, get new ones, huh?" he managed to get those words out while he saw Damien pick up some strange iron rod fork with an end of a symbol. But there were dozens of them with different ends and his torturer started heating the one he was grabbing.
"Don't worry, this one will hurt but I'm sure you'll be far dead to feel the rest."
"That's reassuring." That was his last joke before screaming at the top of his lungs, almost like he did with the shocks, though this was even more painful.
The Rescue Team was surrounding the building and all of them heard it. The screams, his screams. Whatever it was that was being done to him, none of them would forget the moment. Hoyt felt like crying but pulled herself together, just to lose it again and completely ran after the unbearable screams. There were a bunch of gangsters around but the Team managed to take them down, letting her continue. What felt like a lifetime looking for Beau, streams of tears running through her cheeks and down her neck, she finally saw him.
His torn, beaten and fragile body slammed on the floor even if there was nothing holding him down. Whatever they did, it had to be abominable to leave the man in that state. She didn't see Damien pulling out a gun after noticing her, not pointing at her but at him, right at his back.
"Jenny Hoyt, I presume." His breath was agitated, if she was here, she had to get over every little lackey he had guarding the building. That's impossible, so she had help. He was totally surrounded. Nowhere he could run except... "I won't kill him if you let me go." He said, jerking his Colt M1911 in the direction of Beau.
Jenny was feeling a lot of things right now. Anger, sadness, hope, pressure, confusion and loss. She wanted to kill that son of a bitch without blinking but not if that meant having the man she loved dead. "B-Beau?" she said between tears. "How are you doing there, buddy?"
He wanted to answer. He wanted to tell her he was sorry and to please look away. Even if miraculously she got out of this and took Damien down, he himself wasn't going to make it. It was too late. His throat felt harsh, it was painful to say anything after hours of screaming and not getting even a half glass of water. "Hoy-Hoyt--"
Damien took off running like a dog with its tail between his legs. Beau saw Jenny run towards himself but not Damien and thought 'Why? Go get him before he escapes again!' but couldn't get the words out. He also noticed everything went silent and couldn't hear anything at all but drowned mumbles. He started to feel especially warm on a spot at his back and at the side of his neck. 'Ah, the bastard shot me.'
Not caring a single fuck about the psycho that ran away, she held the Sheriff's back, putting pressure on the new wounds. Now that she was close enough, it was giving her nausea seeing all the colors on his body. Red stained skin from blood; yellow, green and purple from serious bruises; black from the circles below his eyes and white from the color of his pale body. His clothes were soaked in blood and sweat, the fabric ripped like he was attacked by a bear. His light brown hair that once looked soft, was now messy and hardened by dried blood.
"I'm here, Beau. You're gonna be okay." It was incredible how many tears she held back from the moment she was told he was kidnapped. All of it, out right this moment. "I shouldn't have left you alone"
"It's okay." he tried to smile but that grin turned into a pained one right away.
"Shut up, it's not." she radioed the ambulance to come in and take him quick as she cut the cuffs he had.
"Alright..." even Jenny knew he was awfully quiet. She turned and saw he was drifting off so she gently slapped him, careful not to bring more pain.
"Listen here Beau Arlen, don't you dare die on me right now." trying to sound menacing, she looked so scared and tiny. That made Beau chuckle.
"Yes Ma'am."
She slowly put away her bloody hands out of his bullet wounds to break the sleeves off her sweater and put pressure with them. "I should've been there with you. If I didn't see you again you would've died thinking I was mad." With his silence while he stared at her eyes, she took it as a 'Yes, I was thinking that.'
"You're always mad, I will never complain."
"Because you know I'm always right." She tried to keep the mood light, although it very much wasn't.
"Yeah, that you are. If I listened to you sooner, I guess we wouldn't be in this mess." he coughed more blood into the floor and everything got too much to handle. He was fighting for her but for how long could he keep that. He felt his body get lighter and his eyelids heavier.
"Hey, Arlen!" he shut his eyes open. "Great, you're doing great. Help is almost here, just stay strong for me a little longer, okay?"
"Did you get him?"
"The crazy gang leader you supposedly killed but didn't? Yeah, we got him." She laughed along with him.
"This is so not fair."
"What is?"
"Now you know my deepest darkest secret and I don't know yours."
"Alright then, I'll tell you if you keep hanging in there. Deal?"
"Deal."
"Hey, just FYI: Carla and Emily are okay. They are at a safehouse but there aren't signs for them to be in danger. They'll be waiting for you to come back, don't you leave them."
"Emily- Oh, Emily..." Jenny never saw Beau cry, so this would be her first time (and last?). "Tell her I'm sorry, please."
"No, Beau. You gotta tell her yourself, you hear me?" she kept soothing him, keeping anything harmful flying across his mind.
"You and I know I won't make it out of here, Hoyt. After all, I am a Temporary Sheriff." Even in his insufferable pain, he smiled for her. As she was soothing him, he was too. It was the least he could do if he was going to die in her arms.
"No-." while still keeping pressure on the fresh flesh, she gave him a tight hug, feeling almost like a goodbye.
She felt the hug back, his numb arms wrapped around her. Not in the same strength as her but he was trying. She then heard footsteps and rumbling getting closer, the paramedics were finally here. That's when she saw how Beau's eyes were shut and his arms were no longer around her.
They put him on the gurney carefully but quickly. The time was ticking while he shallowly breathed. She didn't leave his side as she watched the medics do their jobs. They had assured they were trying their entire best to stabilize The Sheriff until they got to the Hospital where he would have to keep fighting, but it wouldn't be easy. They told her to embrace herself. Even if there was a possibility to keep him alive, it all screamed he was going to die. What was she going to tell his family? The Station? Herself? What was she going to do?
But it was all up to the professionals that had Beau Arlen's life at their hands, and obviously himself. If he was still able to keep fighting not only for his loved ones, but for himself. He did not come that long road to stop here.