"Good morning," greeted a new voice, as Joe was shaken awake. He had scraped his wrists raw trying to loosen his bonds before falling asleep the night before. His side ached and he knew things were only going to get worse.

"Come on," demanded Nasal Voice, shaking him again when Joe didn't open his eyes. "I brought your breakfast."

Joe opened his eyes and focused them on the man stooping over him. His eyes were blue and the expression in them was one of sheer annoyance. The man grabbed Joe by the arm and yanked him into a sitting position.

"Chow time, Blondie," he wheezed, bringing a plastic container of orange juice to Joe's lips.

"This would be a lot easier if you would untie me," suggested Joe after the juice had spilled onto his shirt.

"Mmm," grunted Nasal Voice in agreement. "Remember though," he warned Joe, reaching behind him and untying his wrists, "you try anything and you'll die now."

"What's to try?" asked Joe dryly. "My feet are still tied and I never disobey a man with a gun," he added, looking at the gun Nasal Voice had tucked into his jeans. He ate his breakfast slowly, trying to think of a way to escape.

"Why did you kidnap me?" he asked, stalling for time.

"Why do you think we grabbed you?" replied his captor. "You know too much."

"Let's pretend I don't know anything, because I don't, and you tell me what it is I'm supposed to have discovered," Joe said. "I was only doing a paper for class."

"Yeah, sure," returned Nasal Voice snidely. "And this is the White House."

"Fine, MR. PRESIDENT," Joe said with exasperation. "What did I learn?"

"Look kid," Nasal Voice said. "We know you're a detective. We also know you were at the chemical plant yesterday morning and went to the fire department asking questions. Kids don't go to all that trouble for a school paper," he ended, picking up the rope and tying Joe's hands.

"They do if they need an A," Joe said flatly. Receiving no response, he demanded, "Who are you? You're going to kill me anyway or you wouldn't have let me see your face," he added, seeing the hesitant look on the man's face.

People call me Jack" he wheezed, then checked to make sure the ropes were tight. "You should have stayed home yesterday," he added before leaving.

At least I can see where I am this morning, Joe thought as he struggled with the ropes. And this guy can't tie as well as the one who tied me up last night, he added silently, looking around the room.

Laying down, he rolled over to one of the wooden crates. Getting to his knees, he turned around and began rubbing the ropes against the corner. After a few minutes, his hands were free. After untying the ropes around his ankles, he rose unsteadily to his feet. His legs felt like jelly, so he clung to the crate for support until the pins and needles had finished their attack.

Looking around, he noticed only two ways out of the warehouse office where he was imprisoned. The door, he was sure, had at least one of his captors on the other side and after the events of the past twelve hours, he wasn't feeling up to a battle with one or more of them.

The second way out was a skylight, about thirty feet up and several feet outside the office door. With a sigh, Joe set a small crate onto the larger crate he had used to cut his ropes. Then he placed a chair on top of that. Climbing up, he realized he needed a few more inches before he could latch onto the metal pipe which ran across the ceiling of the warehouse. Getting back down, he found a small crate and put onto the chair.

Carefully, he climbed on the wobbly structure and jumped, his hands wrapping around the pipe. Taking a deep breath, he began the arduous journey of hand over hand until he could reach the skylight.

Right, left, right, left, don't look down, he kept thinking. He was about ten feet away from his goal when he heard a shout from below.

"The kid's gone!" bellowed Steely Voice, slamming the office door and striding back into the main part of the warehouse.

"He can't be<" argued Jack. "I just left him not more than half an hour ago."

"Search the place," ordered another voice.

Joe looked down to see the newest player in this mad game, but saw only a balding head attached to a navy suit. He continued his trek until he reached the skylight. Using one hand to hang on with, he reached over to unlatch the skylight, but it was stuck. In his precarious position forcing it was out of the question, so hand over hand, he headed for the other side of the warehouse. Finally reaching the end, he took hold of a wooden beam, and wrapping his legs around it, scooted down to the floor.

After landing, he had just started to turn around when an arm clamped itself around his neck and a gun was pushed against his forehead.

"Kid, the only reason you're still living is in case your old man comes snooping around. Any more stunts like this and he won't be looking for you because we'll send you to him in a box," Steely Voice snarled, squeezing Joe's neck and making him gasp for air.

"Keep him sedated," advised the man in the navy suit behind Steely Voice.

"Sure thing Boss," agreed Jack, going into the office. Joe tried to twist around to see the boss, but the grip on his neck grew even tighter. His air about to give out, he tried to focus his eyes. He saw Jack return. A quick jab in his arm, and everything began going black.

"Hurry up," barked the boss. "Jared, tie him up and get back out here to help with the loading," he ordered Steely Voice. "I want this place in flames before nightfall!"