AN: My inspiration for this story has returned!

"One thousand dollars?!" Joseph Pulitzer roared, slamming he letter Hannah had just given him down hard on his desk. "This man - this insane man wants me to give him one thousand dollars?!"

"That's what it says, sir." Hannah said, trying to keep the nervous waver out of her voice. She knew her boss was incredibly rich, but that was a lot of money. She knew he had it, but The World wouldn't be in the best shape if he gave it to this kidnapper. He might have to make some budget cuts.

"This will seriously affect the paper if I give this man that much money... I can't do it!"

"You...?"

"If I do, I will be forced to lay off several of my employees, including a few of my writers, which will mean less good articles and more fluff pieces, meaning circulation will go down, causing me to lose even more money..." He hesitated, staring at the letter on the desk. At this point, he was talking more to himself than to Hannah. "I love my daughter more than anything else, you know I do, but I can't do this. I have find another way to get her back." He looked up at Hannah. "Send a messenger boy to find Jack Kelly, immediately."

Hannah nodded and quickly left the office. Pulitzer stared at the letter, reading it over and over. He had to figure out a way to get out of this mess, and get his daughter back.

oOo

Jack was calmer than he'd been in a while, because, while he didn't fully believe it, he told himself that Katherine would be back at some point during the day, so he'd allowed himself to be happy. He'd joked around with the boys, which had made them ecstatic, seeing him act like himself again, and he'd bought ten more papers than usually, feeling confident in himself.

However, he'd only had time to sell five of them when a small red-headed boy around the age of twelve walked up to him.

"You're Jack Kelly, right?"

"Yeah..." Jack looked down at the kid, rather confused. "Who're you?"

"Mr. Pulitzer sent me to find you."

Jack perked up immediately. "Pulitzer? How come?"

"I dunno." The boy shrugged.

"Okay, thanks."

Jack all but ran down the street, stuffing the paper he'd been holding in his bag as he did so. The entire way to The World, the only thought going through his head was, Katherine is back. She must be, why else would Pulitzer be sending for him? Katherine was there, she was there, and he was on his way to see her again, right now. He grinned as he reached Pulitzer's office, not even bothering to acknowledge Hannah.

"Is she here?" He asked hopefully, but when Pulitzer looked up at him with a serious expression on his face, and he didn't see Katherine anywhere, his heart sank. Pulitzer pushed the letter across the desk towards him, and Jack picked it up, reading it quickly. "A thousand - ?!"

"I'm not giving it to him."

"What? Why the hell - ?"

Pulitzer cut him off again, increasing Jack's level of frustration. "I can't, if I do, I'm risking the entire paper going bankrupt."

"So, what, you're just gonna leave her with them?"

"Absolutely not." The older man stood up sharply. "I'm going to get her out."

"How?"

"I need you to go to every place you know that these criminals could be hiding her. Every single one."

"You think I didn't do that already? Didn't find anything."

"Look again."

"What about the cops?"

Pulitzer sighed. "I've already contacted them, they've agreed to wait to act for now, but they're standing by just in case.

"Okay." Jack nodded. "I'll let you know if I find anything." He took the 105 newspapers he hadn't yet sold out of his bag and dropped them on the desk. "Those are yours to pay for." He gave Pulitzer a forced grin before he turned and left.

oOo

Katherine had been dreading The Man coming back into the basement ever since what he'd said about 'the hard part', and he returned much too soon for her liking. And her heart began pounding when she saw him holding rope. He'd only just recently taken the ropes off of her, the last thing she wanted was for it to be put back on. But The Man very obviously didn't care what she wanted. He gave her the grin that continued to send chills down her spine.

"So, princess, I was thinking, you've been getting pretty dirty down here. I was thinking you might want a bath." Katherine resisted the strong urge to cringe away from him as he began to bind her wrists and ankles. "You need one anyway." He wrinkled his nose, faking disgust. "You smell." He picked her up tightly around the waist, threw her over his shoulder, and began walking.

Katherine kept her eyes open in case there was even a possibility of her figuring out an escape route, but she didn't see anything that helped her. After a few minutes, they arrived in a room with a metal tub filled with water. The Man lowered her into the tub, still fully clothed, and she whimpered softly at the temperature of the freezing water, trying not to cry out.

Before she had time to take a breath, The Man grabbed her shoulders and forced her face under the water. She panicked, and she was held there for about 30 seconds before he let her come up. She gasped, desperate to get air into her lungs, but she was instantly pushed back down. This happened about five more times, being held down longer each time.

During the fifth time, she'd been holding her breath for nearly two minutes, and black spots were dancing around her line of vision, and she'd begun praying to pass out, before she was yanked roughly out of the water. She kneeled on the floor gasping for breath, and once her breathing had evened out, she was back over The Man's shoulder and back to the basement.

"That was nice, wasn't it?" He asked her sarcastically on his way back out the door. "We'll be doing that more often."

oOo

Jack had spent all day looking at the same places all over again, and found nothing new. He was about to give up and go back to the Lodging House, when a thought struck him. It certainly wasn't a good thought, but it was important. He remembered a place that would be perfect for this guy to be keeping Katherine. It was shut down, empty, and the last place Jack would want to look.

The Refuge.