Chapter Text
It had been her scarf, or the remnants of it, that had been too much to bear. Jack had seen the white silk lying in the mud, abandoned and torn, and he had immediately turned around and vomited in the grass. His stomach actually recoiled at the idea that she was somewhere in the same condition, her dove pale skin dirty and bloody in the moonlight.
“Jack!” Mac’s voice rang out as she appeared on the scene. “Where is she? I can help, I...”
“Wait, wait, wait.” He said as he found the strength to hold her back. “It’s a man. She got a shot off.” He said, finding hope in the .38 caliber hole in the man’s chest. “She’s not here, which is a good thing, because that means she’s probably still alive.”
“Proba...?” Mac looked aghast, unable to finish the word as she spotted her friend’s infamous golden pistol lying abandoned next to the body. Her expression turned to stone and he wasn't sure if it was in rage or determination.
“We will find her.” Jack promised. “We will find her and bring her home, no matter what.”
Mac nodded and they both pretended not to notice the certain condition attached to his promise.
OOOOO
Phryne woke up slowly, her face pressed against a cool metal floor. She could already feel that her face was bruised and swollen, and she was more than certain she had a concussion. She sat up slowly and found herself in a makeshift prison cell, really more of an over-sized cage.
She listened carefully for any noise that might give her a hint of where she was.
Silence.
She was alone, although that did little to alleviate her fears.
She seemed to be on dry land, which was an improvement from her last kidnapping experience. At least she could remove easily transported off the list. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she took in a warehouse and more boxes than she could count but her vision was too blurred to make out any of the labels.
A car’s headlights suddenly flashed through a window and she managed to glimpse the giant door to her left in the illumination. She was in a hangar.
“Damn.” She murmured under her breath, as ‘easily transported’ went back on the list. She was reaching for something to jimmy the cage’s lock open when yelling broke out outside the hangar.
“Go, go, go, go!”
An airplane roared to life, and Phryne instinctively went into a defensive position. She could barely stand, but she put her hands up anyway.
No one ever came in.
The airplane took off and left her in silence again.
Did they leave her here on purpose?
Did they even know she was inside?
Was their car still outside?
She began working away on the cage again and finally broke the lock open.
“Thank you, Baron.” She murmured to herself as she crept across the hangar to glance out the window.
No one was visible in the car, or surrounding it. She took a risk and tried the hangar door. It was locked from the outside. She felt around the room until she found a crowbar for opening boxes along the wall and she grinned. She stood a semi-chance of making a getaway now. She limped over to the door and broke the window out and waited for someone to notice.
Silence reigned.
She pushed and pulled her way up to the window pane, ignoring the sharp slice of pain that jolted through her as her hands found some broken glass.
She fell to the pavement with a thud and her entire body reverberated with pain as her head throbbed in reluctance.
She fought the urge to vomit as she staggered to her feet. She made it to the car and clung to it in a desperate attempt to stop the world from spinning. The keys were still in the ignition and once she had it up and running, she sped off down the road, totally unsure of where she was going, but wanting to get there fast.
OOOOO
Jack was driving faster than he had ever driven before. Collins looked positively nauseated in the passenger seat but he gamely held on tight and kept his mouth shut. Jack made a mental note to thank him for that when this was all over.
“The hangar should be on the right, sir.”
“I see it.” Jack confirmed in the distance, just as a car went speeding past them in the other direction.
“Sir, was that...? Miss Fisher, sir!”
In a feat of driving skills that he didn’t realize he possessed, Jack slammed on the brakes and turned around simultaneously. Once he straightened out, he realized she had already stopped her car.
Collins was running to her side before Jack could let go of the wheel.
She was alive.
And driving poorly.
The rush of relief he felt at those facts subsided as he got close enough to see her injuries. The entire side of her face was purple and swollen, she was bleeding from her skull and her dress and hands were covered in blood.
“I’m sorry. Was I speeding, Constable?” She croaked, clearly trying to be braver than she was.
“Collins, get Miss Fisher to a hospital and call Dr. Macmillan at once. I’m going to…”
“They aren't there.” She said, interrupting him. “You can wait for...for backup.”
“Miss Fisher, your hands.” Collins said as he wrapped a handkerchief around the one that was bleeding the most.
“Broke a window.” She murmured. “Jack? I’m...” She passed out before he could respond.
“Hospital. Now.” Jack said as he lifted her gently out of the car and carried her to his own. He sat in the backseat with her head in his lap as Collins rushed back into the city.