"I can see you know what I'm referring to. That's good. I would hate to think that all of this vengeance business would go to waste on someone who didn't know the whole story," Chandler Smythe said. He stood and paced in front of Kurt.

Kurt tried to hold back the panic that was threatening to overwhelm him. His stomach churned and he fought back the nausea.

"I still don't know why Anderson decided to target my son. Maybe you can shed some light on the topic," he continued. "Any ideas?"

Kurt thought quickly. Would it hurt or help him to tell this man that his son had tried to rape him? He decided it wouldn't help, that it might just make him more upset. He shrugged, keeping his eyes wide.

Smythe stared at him for a time. "Somehow I don't believe you. We'll see what we can do to convince you to start talking," he said with a grim smile. "Marco, you want to come in here? This is Mr. Hummel," he told the hulking man who came in.

The man was unbelievably tall and built like a football player. His fists had to be the size of Kurt's head. His eyes were black and had no compassion in them. The nausea Kurt was feeling intensified as terror overtook him.

"Mr. Hummel can't seem to remember some pertinent information on why my Sebastian was killed. I'm hoping that you can refresh his memory," Smythe said. "I don't want to hear anything from you until he's talking, got it?"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Smythe. I'll have this little bird singing in no time," the man said, sounding like his voice was made of gravel. He made Barry White sound like a soprano.

Smythe left the room with a parting smile at Kurt.

Kurt watched him leave, more scared than he'd ever been in his life. He whimpered as Marco came over and gently untied the rag tied around his mouth. Kurt tried to cover up his shock. Marco smiled at Kurt as moved his jaw around, loosening the muscles and trying to get some moisture back in his mouth.

"Water?" the man said, his voice softer than when he'd been dealing with Smythe.

Kurt nodded warily. The man took out a bottle of water from a small cooler and opened it. He brought it to Kurt and held it as Kurt drank thirstily. The water was cold and felt wonderful in his desiccated mouth and throat. He drank as much as he could handle, unsure when he would get more. Finally, though, he had to pull away.

Marco capped the water and put it on a table nearby. Kurt took the opportunity to look around. He appeared to be in a basement. The walls were plain, no decoration or paint. There were several tables and folding chairs around. He could see stairs leading up, but there were no windows anywhere.

"Now, Mr. Hummel, I'm Marco. What's your first name?" he asked, sitting backward in a chair, resting his crossed arms across the back.

"K, Kurt," he whispered, his throat still feeling raw.

"Kurt. Nice to meet you. Obviously, this isn't the most pleasant situation. But we can make the most of it, you and I. You tell me what I need to know and that's all the part I have to play in this little war. Sound good?" Marco said, his tone comforting.

Kurt nodded. He liked the sound of making things easy. But how would this man react any different than Smythe would at the information he had?

"So. Mr. Smythe's son was killed. I know, I know, the coroner said it was a heroin overdose. Of course, Mr. Smythe doesn't believe his son had a drug problem, but between you and me, I think it makes total sense. Do you know if Sebastian had a drug problem?" he asked, his eyebrows up.

"Yes," Kurt whispered. "He was into heroin and I don't know what else."

"And how do you know this information?" Marco asked, seeming pleased at Kurt's willingness to talk.

"Some guys saw him buying drugs outside of Screamers," Kurt said.

"Thank you, Kurt. That's good to know. Now we know where we can start looking for the seller. You don't happen to know who sold him the drugs, do you?"

Kurt shook his head. "I've never even been to that club."

"Okay, I didn't think so. You don't look like the club type. But I have to ask, it's part of my job," he said with a wink.

Kurt's stomach started to relax. Maybe telling what he knew wouldn't be the worst thing he could do. Marco didn't seem all that bad. He knew it was his job to get information, but maybe it was just his size that was meant to intimidate people into talking. He knew it was working on him.

"You're doing really good, Kurt. I appreciate your honesty. Do you want to use the bathroom?" he offered.

Kurt nodded. Anything to give him a chance to get up and stretch.

"Now you know it wouldn't do you any good to fight or try to run, right?" Marco clarified.

Kurt nodded again. He wasn't stupid. It was a David and Goliath situation here and he didn't have a slingshot or a deity on his side.

"Excellent. Okay, let's get you untied," Marco said. He went behind Kurt and quickly loosened the ropes holding him.

Kurt rubbed his wrists and twisted his feet around, wincing as feeling returned painfully.

"This way, Kurt," Marco said and walked out of the room. "In there," he said, pointing to a small bathroom. "There is no window, no outside door, no way to get out. So I'll let you have the door closed. But I will be right here and you have exactly two minutes. That should be plenty of time to do your business. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Kurt said.

"Okay. Go ahead," Marco said, nodding toward the door.

Kurt went in and closed the door. He quickly used the toilet. Knowing he would probably be tied back up, he jogged in place for a moment, bending down and touching his toes to get the kinks out of his back. He had no idea what else he could do. There was nothing in the room that he could use as a weapon. Empty toilet paper rolls couldn't even give a paper cut, so he was out of luck. Loosening up his muscles was as all he could think of. He washed his hands and splashed his face before opening the door.

"Two minutes on the dot. Great job, Kurt," Marco said with a smile.

Kurt hesitantly returned the smile. They went back into the room. Marco pointed at the wooden chair where Kurt had been before and Kurt sat down willingly.

"If you can stay cooperative, I don't have a problem leaving you untied. Can you be cooperative?"

Kurt nodded, though he didn't know what he was going to do when he asked about why Sebastian died.

"I like you, Kurt. You seem like an okay kind of guy. Not the usual kind of guy I work, with, I'll tell you that much," Marco chuckled darkly.

Kurt did not want to know the usual kind of guy this man worked on. Those kind of people would make Karofsky and Azimio look like angels.

"So, Kurt. Let's get back to the business at hand. You know that Sebastian is dead, yes?"

"Yes," Kurt answered.

"And you believe it was due to heroin?"

"Yes," Kurt said confidently.

"Good. Okay. Was the heroin tampered with?" Marco asked, his eyes sharp on Kurt's face.

Kurt called on every acting skill he had. "I don't know."

"Uh huh," Marco said thoughtfully. "Do you know if Sebastian had any enemies there at your school?"

"I don't think he was very well liked," Kurt said hesitantly.

Marco snorted. "That isn't hard to believe with that kid. Did you like him, Kurt?"

"No," Kurt said.

Marco grinned. "I like your honesty. So let's go back to the question you lied about. Was the heroin tampered with, or wasn't it?"

"I don't know," Kurt insisted.

"That's too bad. I was pretty certain you'd know the answer to that question," Marco said. He stood and Kurt's stomach dropped. But the large man just started walking around the room.

"What were your interactions with Sebastian like?" he asked as he paced.

"He, um, didn't like me. He hit on me and I turned him down," Kurt said, seeing no reason to lie.

"What do you mean? Sebastian wasn't gay," Marco said, looking truly confused.

"I think he might have been. But maybe it was because he was using drugs," Kurt whispered, his heart pounding. Shit, they didn't know Sebastian was gay? What if they decided to take it out on Kurt?

"Huh. I'll have to discuss that little tidbit with Mr. Smythe. That won't go over well. So, let's try that question again. Was the heroin tampered with?" Marco said, coming nearer.

Kurt had no way to try and convince him, other than to lie. If he told him yes, than he'd want to know who tampered with it. But they already seemed to know Blaine was to blame, so why would they need him to confirm it? He bit his lip and decided to give a partial answer.

"There were rumors, but nobody knows for sure," he said quietly.

"Ah, so you did know more than you were letting on. Tut tut, Kurt. If we're going to be nice to each other, you need to be more forthcoming," Marco said, stroking his chin. He paced a couple times, then before Kurt could process the action, Marco's hand flung out and cracked against the left side of his face.

He cried out and tasted blood in his mouth from where his teeth had bit into his cheek. Immediately, he could feel his face beginning to swell, and he thought his cheekbone might be cracked.

"Now that was just a slap and not even with my dominant hand, so unless you want the full meal deal," Marco said, flexing his hand and making a fist. "Then I suggest you tell me everything you know."

Kurt nodded, unable to help the tears of pain that trickled down his face.

"So, let's try this again. The heroin might have been tampered with. I think you might know more than that. But let's leave that for now. Why would Anderson want to hurt Sebastian?" Marco asked, sitting back on the chair in front of Kurt.

Kurt took a deep breath, trying to focus past the pain. It was going to be a long day. There was no way he was going to say anything against Blaine. And there was no way Marco was going to be okay with that.

. . . . .

Blaine knew his jaw was hanging open, but he couldn't hold back his shock. "Huh?" was all he could get out.

Jason chuckled. "I've been working with the guys for years."

Blaine shook his head. "Huh? Uh, how? What?"

Jason clapped him on the back. "It's pretty fun seeing you like this, you know that. I just wish this hadn't had to come out like this. I wish it hadn't had to come out at all. Now my cover is blown."

"Your cover? Okay, hold it," Blaine said, holding up a hand. "Who the hell are you and what the hell is going on?"

"Got any coffee?" Jason asked. "I had to rush over here so fast I didn't get my first cup. I don't want to get crabby."

"Um, sure," Blaine said and led the way to the kitchen where he got them both a cup.

"Ah, thanks," Jason said, gulping it gratefully.

They sat on the couch, facing each other. "I'll give you a bit of history first. I was in the military. Black ops. Basically, we were the guys who went in and took care of shit nobody else had the balls to. When I got out, I was approached by your father to join his little band of merry men. The pay was too much to turn down. After a year, I told him I was going to quit. I was tired of it all. I wanted to go to college, you know, do something with my life while I was still young. When I told him that, he got all excited. He told me I could stay on the payroll and go to college. All I had to do was look after his son," Jason said pointedly.

Blaine tried to wrap his mind around all of the information. "Wait, my dad was paying you to watch over me?"

"Is paying," Jason corrected. "Why do you think I've been on the fringes of your life since you started?"

"But you're a junior and I'm a sophomore," Blaine said, starting with small details.

"You know how easy it is to work things to your benefit when you know the right people. But I really am going to classes and doing the work. All of that is real," Jason assured him. "And hopefully, I'll even graduate with a degree eventually."

"But Colton, does he know?" Blaine had to know.

A shadow seemed to pass over Jason's handsome face, his brown eyes troubled. "Not yet. He's going to have to find out now. It kills me to know he may hate me for keeping this from him. I just can't risk his safety by keeping him in the dark."

"I'm sorry. I had no idea who you really were, or I could have asked for somebody else," Blaine said sincerely.

"Hey, I'm glad to do this. I care about Kurt too, and I'm going to help you get him back," Jason said firmly.

"Wait a second. Why didn't you help Kurt the night he was attacked?" Blaine asked, suddenly upset.

"Blaine, you were my priority. I had someone watching over you as you went to dinner with your mother and so I was able to take the night off. I went to the party and though I kept an eye on Kurt as much as I could, when he chose to leave, I decided to stay. There was no more way for me to know what was going to happen then there was for you," Jason pointed out, his eyes sad.

Blaine's anger deflated. Jason was right. "So, how can you help me find out where they took Kurt?"

"Because I know who the mole is. And we are going to teach the mole how to sing," Jason said, a grim smile on his face.

Blaine stared at him. The jovial, easy-going man he was friends with now looked more dangerous than anyone he'd ever met.

"Do I know who he is?" Blaine asked. He'd had his doubts about that Sam kid. He seemed too good to be true, and he'd been all over Kurt. He secretly hoped it was him so he could have a free reason to beat him to a pulp.

"Nope. We've been watching the night workers across the hall. A guy named Hal had been acting suspiciously. We planted a couple secret cameras and we didn't catch anything. Until last night. The video shows Hal turning off the security system and cameras for Smythe's men. Then he set a loop on the videos , so it would look like nobody ever came in," Jason said, shaking his head.

"The guys said they were calling in the night shift guys so we could talk to them. That means he should be over there right now," Blaine said, standing.

"Indeed," Jason smiled, draining the last of his coffee.

They went across the hall and Blaine unlocked the door. The men all gasped, seeing the tall man beside him. Jason walked up to one of the men and whispered in his ear. The man pointed to one of the bedrooms, his eyes full of fear. Jason appeared to have quite the reputation among the guys here. Blaine was impressed and suddenly glad to have him there. It made him feel like he wasn't completely alone in all of this.

"This way, boss man," Jason said and led the way to the room.

They walked in and saw the overweight and slightly balding man sitting on a chair. The room, which was supposed to be a bedroom, had various tables and chairs set up along with several cots. The man, Hal, had his head in his hands.

"Hey, Hal," Jason said.

Hal's head shot up and panic shot across his face before he managed to straighten out his features. "Uh, hey, Jason. Didn't know you were going to be around."

"Yeah, well, they had to call in the big guns for this job," Jason said easily. "So, what do you know about what happened last night?"

"It was just a regular night. We saw Mr. Anderson and Mr. Hummel a couple times on the camera, but other than that, it was a quiet night," Hal said quickly. He was sweating profusely and wiped his hand across his forehead.

"Now, see, I happen to know that you know a tad bit more than that," Jason said. "We have cameras everywhere, Hal, my friend. We saw some pretty interesting stuff last night. And you were the main attraction of the little show. Want to tell us who you are working for?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hal insisted, his face going pale.

"Okay, well I was hoping it wouldn't come down to this. Boss, would you mind leaving me alone here with Hal for a moment. I'm going to need to convince him that it's best if he starts talking," Jason said, cracking his knuckles and turning to Blaine with a wink.

"Sure thing," Blaine said and started walking toward the door.

"Wait! Wait, please, don't leave Mr. Anderson," Hal pleaded.

Blaine turned back and saw naked terror on the man's face as he stared at Jason.

"I'll tell you everything I know," Hal said.

"Now that is exactly what I was hoping to hear," Jason said, grabbing a chair and sitting down.