Chapter 1: Tough Guy

"Do another one Jake. Try this pose." Billy flexed his right bicep, then turned slightly to show off the fresh ink just over his left pectoral - a flaming heart.

"Billy, this is the sixteenth fuckin' picture and you haven't liked any of them." Jake lowered the phone, exasperated. "My thumb's getting sore from all this photography bullshit."

Billy Jr. giggled from where he sat on the fence rail, swinging his boots. "Uncle Billy's gonna be here all night posing like some kind of model."

"Shut up, squirt," Billy grinned, but there was no heat in it. "You'll understand when you're older and trying to impress girls."

"Come on," Billy continued, turning back to Jake. "You know I'm sending this to Edna to see my new ink. Maybe I hold a gun this time... the tough guy look."

"The wimp look if you ask me," Jake smirked, raising the phone again.

"Fuck you."

Billy Jr. doubled over laughing. "Uncle Jake just called you a wimp!"

Billy grabbed his revolver from the holster, checking the cylinder out of habit before striking another pose. This time he held the gun in his left hand, bent up toward his face, his chest positioned to show the fresh flaming heart tattoo, that cocky half-smile playing perfectly with the angle.

Jake snapped the photo. "Alright, this one's actually not terrible."

"Let me see it." Billy snatched the phone, studying the image. His face lit up. "Yeah, that's the one. That's perfect."

He quickly typed out a message to Edna, adding three heart emojis before hitting send. Then, grinning mischievously, he forwarded the same photo to Jake's phone.

"Fuckin' delete that shit!" Jake lunged for his phone as it buzzed. "I don't need your pretty-boy selfies clogging up my memory."

Billy Jr. was still giggling. "Uncle Billy thinks he's so cool with his gun and his tattoo."

"I am cool, Jr. Just wait 'til you see Edna's reaction." Billy holstered the revolver and picked up the other two handguns, securing them in his mule guard. "Ready to go home?"

"I got my shirt in the barn, so I'll get it and be right behind you."

Jake hopped down from the fence post, ruffling Billy Jr.'s hair. "Come on, kid. Let's head back and let Romeo here collect his clothes."

"Can I ride on the quad with you, Uncle Jake?"

"'Course you can. But you're driving."

Billy Jr. whooped with excitement as they walked toward Jake's four-wheeler.

Billy watched them go, still smiling at his phone screen, waiting for Edna's response. The evening sun cast long shadows across the ranch, and somewhere in the distance, cattle lowed softly.

Little did he know that in just minutes, his macho tough guy look would be tied up with ropes, and that photo he'd just sent would become evidence in a kidnapping case.

Chapter 2: Gone

Billy pushed open the heavy barn door, the hinges creaking in the evening stillness. The familiar smell of hay and leather hit him as he stepped inside, already thinking about Edna's reaction to his photo. She'd probably roll her eyes at his posing, but he knew she loved the way he looked with that cocky grin.

His shirt hung on a nail by the tack room, right where he'd left it after their afternoon of fence repair. As he reached for it, a shadow moved behind him.

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

Billy spun around. Three men stood blocking the barn door - rough-looking strangers in dirty clothes, with the lean, hungry look of men who'd been living hard. The one in front had a scraggly beard and missing teeth. The other two flanked him, one holding a length of rope.

"You boys lost?" Billy kept his voice steady, but his hand instinctively moved toward his holster.

"Don't even think about it, cowboy." The bearded man pulled a sawed-off shotgun from behind his back. "Nice and easy. Hands where we can see 'em."

Billy raised his hands slowly. "Look, if you're looking for work, my dad—"

"We ain't looking for work." The man with the rope stepped forward. "But we are looking for money. And judging by this spread, your daddy's got plenty."

"You picked the wrong family to mess with," Billy said, trying to project more confidence than he felt.

The bearded man chuckled. "That's what they all say. Turn around, pretty boy. Hands behind your back."

Billy's mind raced. Jake and Billy Jr. were already heading back to the house on the quad. No one would miss him for at least twenty minutes. These men had clearly been watching, waiting for him to be alone.

"My family will come looking for me," he warned.

"We're counting on it." The rope bit into his wrists as they bound them tight. "Now walk."

Back at the main house, Jake pulled the quad up to the porch where Billy Jr. hopped off, still grinning from the ride.

"Thanks, Uncle Jake! Can we do that again tomorrow?"

"We'll see, kid. Go wash up for dinner." Jake ruffled the boy's hair. "And tell your mom Billy's still getting his shirt."

Billy Jr. bounded up the porch steps and through the front door. "Mom! Uncle Jake says Uncle Billy's still in the barn!"

Rebecca looked up from the kitchen where she was helping Sarah prepare dinner. "That boy and his vanity. Probably still admiring his tattoo in the mirror."

"More likely still waiting for Edna to text him back," Jake laughed, coming through the door. "Kid's got it bad."

Tom looked up from his paperwork at the kitchen table. "Long as he shows up for dinner. Your mother made enough food for an army."

Twenty minutes passed. Then thirty.

"Where the hell is Billy?" Jake walked to the window, peering toward the barn. "It doesn't take this long to put on a shirt."

"Maybe he fell asleep," Billy Jr. suggested. "He was up real late last night."

But something cold was settling in Jake's stomach. Billy might be vain about his appearance, but he was never late for dinner. Ever.

"I'm gonna check on him." Jake headed for the door.

Tom stood up. "I'll come with you."

The barn door stood wide open, exactly as Billy had left it. But Billy was nowhere to be seen. His shirt still hung on the nail, untouched.

"Billy!" Jake called out. "Billy!"

Nothing but the evening wind through the rafters.

Tom's face went hard. In twenty-seven years of ranching, he'd developed a sixth sense for trouble. And right now, every instinct was screaming.

"Something's wrong," he said quietly. "Billy wouldn't just disappear."

Jake was already pulling out his phone, dialing Billy's number. It went straight to voicemail.

"Come on, come on..." Jake tried again. Still voicemail.

Tom was examining the dirt floor of the barn, his experienced eyes reading the story written in boot prints and scuff marks. Multiple sets of footprints. Signs of a struggle.

"Jake." His voice was deadly quiet. "Get back to the house. Call Wade Nelson. Now."

"What? Why—"

"Someone took him."

Chapter 3: Proof of Life

The campsite was deep in the woods, maybe five miles from the Benson ranch - far enough to muffle any sounds, close enough that the kidnappers had been able to scout the property for weeks. A clearing surrounded by thick pines, with a cold fire pit and scattered camping gear that looked like it had seen better days.

They dragged Billy to the center of the clearing and forced him to his knees. The bearded one - who the others called Curt - pulled out a sturdy oak branch, maybe three feet long and thick as a man's wrist.

"Now here's how this works, pretty boy," Curt said, testing the weight of the branch. "We're gonna make you real uncomfortable, then we're gonna take some pictures for your daddy."

Billy's wrists were already bound tight behind his back with rough rope that bit into his skin. Now they pushed the branch under his arms and across his back, then began wrapping more rope around his biceps, cinching it tight against the wood.

"Fuck!" Billy couldn't help the curse as the rope dug deep into his muscle.

"Just getting started," the second man - Rail, thin as his nickname - sneered as he wrapped the rope around Billy's triceps, pulling it taut until Billy's arms went numb.

They pushed his bound wrists up and tied them off to the middle of the branch, creating an agonizing arch in his shoulders. Then they bent his legs back and tied his ankles to his wrists, completing the hogtie.

Billy tested the bonds immediately, trying to work some slack. The movement only made the ropes dig deeper into his arms.

"None of that," Curt kicked him hard in the ribs. "Every time you try to get loose, you get a boot."

The third man - Deke - had been quiet up until now, but he pulled out Billy's phone and held it up. "Say cheese, cowboy."

The camera flashed. Billy on the ground, trussed up like an animal, his face showing the first hints of pain and desperation.

"Now let's get a good look at that pretty face." Curt grabbed Billy by his thick hair and yanked him upright to his knees. Billy's arms, pulled back by the branch, made his bare chest thrust forward. The fresh flaming heart tattoo stood out starkly on his skin, a cruel irony against his helpless state.

Another flash. This one showed Billy's face clearly - the fear he was trying to hide, the defiance still burning in his eyes.

"Perfect," Deke grinned, scrolling through Billy's contacts. "Daddy's gonna love these."

The Nelson family had arrived as a unit ten minutes after Tom's call - Wade in his sheriff's uniform, Mary rushing to embrace Sarah, and Edna pale as a ghost, still clutching her phone with Billy's earlier photo of him posing with his gun and that cocky smile. Ryan and Wilson flanked their father, taking notes as Tom described the scene in the barn.

"He was just showing off his tattoo," Edna whispered, staring at her phone screen. "He was so proud of it, wanted me to see..."

Mary wrapped an arm around the eighteen-year-old. "We're gonna get him back, honey."

Tom's phone buzzed at exactly 6:00 PM.

The text message came from Billy's number.

Tom's face went white as he opened it.

"Jesus Christ," he whispered.

The first photo showed Billy bound and helpless on the ground, the rope work clearly visible, his face a mask of pain and anger.

Sarah gasped and covered her mouth. Rebecca immediately turned Billy Jr. away from the screen.

"Don't look, baby. Don't look."

But Billy Jr. had already seen enough. His face crumpled. "Uncle Billy..."

Edna let out a strangled cry when she saw the second photo - Billy's face pulled up by his hair, his eyes meeting the camera with a mixture of defiance and desperation. The same chest that had shown off his flaming heart tattoo with such pride now displayed his complete helplessness.

"Oh God, Billy," she sobbed, and Mary pulled her close.

Wade Nelson's jaw tightened. Twenty years as sheriff, and he'd never seen anything like this in Kings County.

Jake's hands were shaking as he stared at the photos. "Those fuckers. Those fucking—"

"Jake." Tom's voice cut through the emotion. "We need to think."

Another text came through: Your boy's real pretty tied up like this. $500K cash if you want him back in one piece. We'll call in one hour with instructions. No cops or pretty boy gets hurt worse.

Wade looked at Tom. "They don't know who I am."

"Good," Tom said quietly. "Let's keep it that way for now."

Billy Jr. was crying now, great gulping sobs that shook his small frame. Rebecca held him tight, but her own tears were falling freely.

"We're gonna get him back, baby," she whispered. "Uncle Jake and Grandpa Tom are gonna bring Uncle Billy home."

Edna was staring at the contrast between the two photos on the phones - Billy's confident pose from an hour ago, and now this image of him bound and helpless. "This is my fault," she whispered. "If he hadn't been taking pictures for me—"

"Stop that right now," Wade said firmly. "This isn't anybody's fault but the men who took him."

Jake was studying the photos with the intensity of a man memorizing every detail. The trees in the background. The type of rope. The way Billy was positioned. Anything that might give them a clue.

"Those ropes," he said suddenly. "That's not random. They know what they're doing."

Wade nodded grimly. "Professional job. Question is, are they professionals, or just men who've done this before?"

Tom was already mentally calculating ranch assets, liquid cash, what he could liquidate quickly. But five hundred thousand in cash? That would take time.

His phone rang. Unknown number.

"Tom Benson."

"You got our pictures?" The voice was rough, uneducated, with a slight drawl.

"I got them."

"Good. Your boy's real uncomfortable right now, and he's gonna stay that way until we see cash. Half a million, unmarked bills."

"I need time. That kind of money—"

"You got twenty-four hours. We'll call tomorrow night with the drop location. And Benson? No cops. We see one badge, and your boy Billy ends up like them ropes - all twisted up and useless."

The line went dead.

Tom looked around the room at both families, at everyone depending on him to bring Billy home.

"Twenty-four hours," he said quietly.

Outside, darkness was falling over Kings County, and somewhere in those woods, Billy was learning just how long a night could be when every movement brought fresh agony.

Chapter 4: The Hunt Begins

The ropes around Billy's biceps were cutting off circulation, turning his arms a mottled blue-purple. Every few minutes, he tested his bonds, trying to work some slack into the brutal hogtie. The oak branch across his back made it impossible to get leverage, but he had to try.

"I told you about that shit," Curt snarled, delivering another vicious kick to Billy's ribs.

Billy grunted, the air rushing out of his lungs. The kick sent pain shooting through his already strained shoulders as his body jerked against the ropes.

"Kid's got spirit," Rail observed, taking a swig from a beer bottle. "Daddy's gonna pay good money for this one."

"He better," Deke said, scrolling through Billy's phone. "Look at all this ranch shit. Cattle auctions, feed suppliers, equipment dealers. These Bensons got serious money."

Billy tried again, arching his back to relieve the pressure on his arms. The movement was subtle, barely noticeable, but Curt caught it.

This kick landed harder, right in Billy's solar plexus. Billy doubled over as much as the ropes would allow, gasping for breath.

"You want more of that, pretty boy? Keep testing those ropes."

Billy forced himself to lie still, but his mind was racing. These weren't random drifters - they'd been watching the ranch, studying the family. They knew about the money, knew the routines, knew exactly when he'd be alone in that barn.

The worst part wasn't the pain. It was the helplessness. Every muscle in his body screamed to fight, to break free, to show these bastards what happened when you messed with a Benson. Instead, he was trussed up like a calf at branding time.

Back at the ranch house, controlled chaos was taking over. Ray had arrived with his laptop and was coordinating with the cell phone company to try tracking Billy's phone. Wilson Nelson was setting up equipment to trace any future calls. The kitchen table had become a command center covered in maps, phones, and legal pads filled with notes.

Pops had been quiet until now, but when he spoke, his voice carried the authority of a man who'd seen real combat. "This is a goddamn military operation," he said, studying the maps with experienced eyes. "These sons of bitches have been conducting reconnaissance on our position for weeks."

"Pops," Sarah warned.

"Don't 'Pops' me, Sarah. My grandson's been taken by enemy combatants, and we're gonna treat this like the tactical situation it is."

Billy Jr. nodded seriously. "That's right. This is war, and Uncle Billy's a goddamn prisoner of war."

"Billy Junior!" Rebecca snapped.

"Well, he is! And Pops says in war you use every asset you got."

Pops looked at his great-grandson approvingly. "Smart boy. In 'Nam, we used local scouts who knew the terrain. Saved a lot of American lives."

"The phone pinged a tower about six miles northeast," Ray announced, his fingers flying over the keyboard. "But that's a huge area, and the signal's been dead since the photos were sent."

"They probably turned it off," Wilson said. "Smart move on their part."

"Fucking bastards know what they're doing," Pops growled, then caught Sarah's glare. "Sorry, honey. But it's true."

Billy Jr. had disappeared upstairs twenty minutes ago, and now he came thundering down the steps dressed in full camouflage gear. Combat boots, camo pants and jacket, a tactical vest with pockets for gear, and his hunting cap pulled low.

"Billy Junior!" Rebecca stood up from the couch where she'd been holding Edna. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Getting ready for a goddamn rescue mission," Billy Jr. said matter-of-factly, adjusting the straps on his backpack.

"Watch your mouth!" Sarah and Rebecca said in unison.

Pops chuckled despite the circumstances. "Boy's got the right attitude. You don't rescue POWs by sitting on your ass."

"Pops!" Sarah protested.

"Uncle Billy's out there somewhere, and I know those woods better than anybody," Billy Jr. continued, ignoring his mother and grandmother's disapproval.

"You're eleven years old!"

"So? I've been hunting those trails since I was nine. I know every deer path, every creek crossing, every place somebody could hide a camp."

Josh looked up from the map he was studying with Wade. "Jr., your mom's right. This is too dangerous."

But Billy Jr. was already pulling gear from his pack - night vision scope, GPS device, radio headset, even a small first aid kit. Everything organized and ready.

"I've got heat sensors too," he said, holding up a small electronic device. "Uncle Jake taught me how to use it for tracking wounded deer."

Pops examined the equipment with professional interest. "Damn fine gear. Better than what we had in the jungle."

"Pops!" Sarah snapped again.

"What? It's true. Boy's better equipped than my whole squad was in '68."

Jake stopped pacing and stared at his nephew. "Where'd you get all this equipment?"

"You and Uncle Billy gave it to me for Christmas and my birthday, remember? You said I needed to be prepared for anything in the woods."

Wade Nelson studied the boy with professional interest. "That's some serious gear for an eleven-year-old."

"Uncle Billy made me promise to always be ready," Billy Jr. said, his voice cracking slightly. "He said you never know when you might need to help somebody."

Pops nodded approvingly. "Billy taught him right. In combat, preparation saves lives."

Rebecca's eyes filled with tears. "Baby, I can't lose you too."

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and everyone looked toward the windows. Dark clouds were rolling in fast from the west.

"Shit," Jake muttered. "Storm's coming in."

"Language!" Sarah scolded automatically.

"Mom, Uncle Billy's tied up somewhere, probably hurt, and now it's gonna rain," Billy Jr. said, his voice rising with urgency. "I can't just sit here and do nothing."

As if to prove his point, the first fat raindrops began spattering against the windows.

Rebecca looked torn between her fears. "Baby, you'll catch pneumonia out there!"

Billy Jr. reached into his pack and pulled out a camouflage poncho in a sealed plastic bag. He tore it open, shook out the poncho, and pulled it over his head with practiced efficiency. Then he gave everybody that familiar Benson smirk - the same cocky grin Billy had worn just hours ago.

"I can handle a little fucking rain," he said, adjusting the poncho's hood.

"BILLY JUNIOR!"

"Fuckin' A," Pops said quietly, pride evident in his voice despite the scolding that would follow. "That's my great-grandson."

"POPS!"

The room fell silent except for Sarah and Rebecca's protests and the increasing drumbeat of rain on the roof. The resemblance was unmistakable - the determination, the confidence, the stubborn set of his jaw.

Tom spoke quietly over the sound of the storm. "How long would it take you to narrow down the search area?"

"Tom!" Sarah protested.

"If I could get to the northeast quadrant where the phone pinged, maybe two hours to identify the most likely spots. Rain or no rain, there's only so many places deep enough in those woods where you could set up a camp and not be seen."

Pops studied the topographical map as lightning flashed outside. "Boy's right. You need high ground for observation, water source, and concealed egress routes. Storm might actually help - wash out tracks, but also force them to higher ground."

Wade exchanged a look with Tom. "He's got a point. We're looking at a huge search area with limited resources."

"And the Texas Rangers won't be here until dawn," Ryan added.

Billy Jr. adjusted his radio headset and checked his GPS device, rain drumming harder on the windows. "I can mark waypoints for the search teams. Guide them to the right areas."

Rebecca was crying now, torn between her maternal instincts and the terrible logic of the situation.

"We're not sending a child into that storm," she said firmly.

"I'm not asking to go alone," Billy Jr. replied. "But if you're gonna look for Uncle Billy, you need somebody who knows where to look."

"Goddamn right," Pops said. "Use your assets, storm or no storm."

Outside, the thunderstorm was intensifying over Kings County, and somewhere in those darkening, rain-soaked woods, Billy was about to discover that his real fight for survival was just beginning.

Chapter 5: Storm

The first drops of rain hit Billy's bare back like cold bullets. Within minutes, the scattered drops became a steady drumbeat, then a torrential downpour that turned the forest floor into a maze of muddy streams.

"Shit," Curt muttered, looking up at the black sky. "This is gonna be a bad one."

Lightning split the darkness, followed by a crack of thunder that seemed to shake the trees. The kidnappers scrambled to gather their gear as the rain intensified, turning their campsite into a swamp.

"What about pretty boy?" Rail shouted over the storm, gesturing at Billy who was now lying in a rapidly forming puddle.

"Leave him," Curt yelled back. "He ain't going nowhere, and we can't drag his ass through this weather."

Billy's heart sank as he watched them disappear into the storm, taking their flashlights and leaving him in complete darkness. The ropes around his arms were already soaked, swelling and tightening against his circulation. Every few seconds, lightning would illuminate his surroundings - tall pines swaying violently in the wind, water rushing down from higher ground, pooling around his bound body.

The cold was immediate and brutal. Rain soaked through to his skin, and without his shirt, hypothermia was setting in fast. But worse than the cold was the water level. What had started as puddles was becoming streams, and the streams were becoming rushing channels of muddy runoff.

Billy twisted his head, trying to see how high the water was rising. In the brief flashes of lightning, he could see debris floating past - branches, leaves, anything the storm could tear loose. The water was already lapping at his chest when he lay on his side.

He had to get free. Now.

Back at the ranch house, the storm was rattling windows and sending sheets of rain across the landscape. The power flickered twice before Josh got the generator running, casting the kitchen in the harsh glow of emergency lighting.

"This changes everything," Wade said, studying the weather radar on his phone. "We're looking at flash flood warnings for the whole county."

Pops leaned over the topographical map, his finger tracing the creek beds and low-lying areas. "Goddamn it. If they've got Billy in any of these drainage areas, he's in serious trouble."

"Language, Pops!" Sarah snapped, but her heart wasn't in it. Everyone was thinking the same thing.

Billy Jr. stood by the window, fully geared up in his camouflage and poncho, watching the storm with the intensity of a seasoned hunter reading weather patterns. "The water's gonna push everything toward Willow Creek," he said matter-of-factly. "That's the main drainage for the whole northeast quadrant."

"How deep does Willow Creek get in a storm like this?" Tom asked.

Billy Jr. turned from the window, his young face serious. "Deep enough to drown a man, especially if he can't swim."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence.

Jake grabbed his rain gear from the mudroom. "I can't sit here anymore. Billy's out there, and every minute we wait—"

"Son, you can't see two feet in this weather," Tom said. "You'll get lost yourself."

"Then we wait for it to pass?" Jake's voice cracked with frustration. "While Billy drowns?"

Ray looked up from his laptop, where he'd been monitoring emergency channels. "Fire department's reporting water rescues already. Couple of motorists stuck in flood zones on Highway 6."

"That's only five miles from where the phone pinged," Wilson noted, marking locations on his map.

Billy Jr. adjusted his radio headset and keyed the mic, testing the signal. Through the static, they could hear other emergency responders coordinating rescues throughout the county.

"The kidnappers are gonna be holed up somewhere waiting this out," he said with surprising tactical awareness. "But Uncle Billy..." He didn't finish the sentence.

Edna, who had been quietly crying into Mary's shoulder, suddenly looked up. "He can't die," she whispered. "Not like this. Not alone."

The storm raged for another hour. When it finally began to weaken, the silence was almost as disturbing as the noise had been. In that quiet, everyone could hear the sound of rushing water - creeks that had been dry that morning were now raging torrents carrying everything in their path toward the main drainage.

Wade's radio crackled to life. "Sheriff, we've got movement on County Road 47. Three men walking along the highway, soaked to the bone. Deputy Martinez is bringing them in for questioning."

Wade grabbed the radio. "Any identification?"

"Negative, but they've got camping gear and they're acting real nervous about something."

Tom and Wade locked eyes.

"Bring them to the station," Wade ordered. "And Martinez? Handle them gentle until we know what we're dealing with."

Billy Jr. was already at the door, his hand on the knob. "If they caught the kidnappers, it's safe for me to go out there now."

Rebecca started to protest, but Pops cut her off. "Boy's right. If those sons of bitches are in custody, the only danger out there is the weather and the clock."

Thunder rumbled once more in the distance, but the storm was moving on. What it left behind was a landscape transformed by water and mud, and somewhere in that flooded wilderness, Billy was fighting for his life against bonds that were slowly strangling him and rising water that threatened to finish what the kidnappers had started.

"Gear up," Tom said quietly. "All of us. We've got a son to find."

Chapter 6: Caught

The three men huddled in the back of the patrol car looked like drowned rats. Curt's scraggly beard dripped muddy water onto his lap, while Rail and Deke shivered in their soaked clothes, their earlier bravado completely washed away by the storm.

Wade's phone buzzed with an incoming FaceTime call from Ryan.

"Dad, found them about two miles down County Road 47," Ryan Nelson said, his face appearing on Wade's screen. "Walking along the shoulder, no vehicle in sight. They had backpacks with camping gear, rope, and this."

He held up Billy's cell phone in an evidence bag, showing it clearly to the camera.

Wade looked around at both families gathered at the ranch house watching the phone screen. "Bring them here. To the barn. Everyone's already here, and I'm not leaving to go to town when we've got a boy missing in those woods."

Jake stepped forward. "I'm with you on that, Wade."

Pops nodded grimly. "Damn right. Let them explain themselves where they grabbed Billy."

Billy Jr. had been listening from the kitchen doorway. When Pops headed toward the barn, the boy quietly slipped out behind him, staying in the shadows.

Within twenty minutes, all three kidnappers were sitting on hay bales in the same barn where they'd grabbed Billy, their hands cuffed behind their backs. Wade stood in front of them with Ryan Nelson and Wilson Nelson flanking the exits. Jake paced like a caged animal, while Pops leaned against a stall door, his weathered face hard as granite.

Billy Jr. crouched behind some hay bales in the corner, watching everything with wide eyes.

"Been a long time since I interrogated enemy prisoners," Pops said quietly. "But some things you don't forget."

Jake stopped pacing. "You sons of bitches picked the wrong family."

Wade pulled out his phone and started a FaceTime call with Tom back at the house. "Tom, you and the others can watch this. We need all eyes on everything they say."

Tom's face appeared on the screen, with Ray, Rebecca, and the others gathered around behind him.

Curt broke first.

"Look, we didn't mean for nobody to get hurt," he said, his voice shaking as he saw all the faces watching him through the phone. "It was just supposed to be easy money, you know? Rich rancher, grab one of his kids, collect the cash."

"Where is he?" Wade held the phone so everyone could see the kidnappers clearly.

"We left him at the camp when the storm hit. Had to, or we would've all drowned out there."

Pops stepped closer, and forty years of combat experience radiated from his eyes. "You left my great-grandson tied up in a goddamn flood zone?"

Billy Jr. had to cover his mouth to keep from making a sound, tears streaming down his face as he listened.

"We... we didn't know it was gonna storm that bad—"

"What camp? Where?" Jake's voice was barely controlled rage.

Curt's face went blank. "I... I don't rightly know. It's deep woods, maybe five, six miles northeast of the ranch. We been using it for a few weeks, but with all that rain..."

"You can't find your own campsite?" Wilson Nelson leaned forward.

"You ain't never been in those woods in a storm," Rail spoke up, eyeing Jake nervously. "Everything looks different. Creek beds changed, landmarks gone. Hell, we barely found the road ourselves."

Through the FaceTime call, Tom's voice was deadly quiet. "Show them the photos. The ones they took of Billy."

Wade held up Billy's phone, displaying the photos on the FaceTime screen so everyone could see. "You remember taking these?"

All three kidnappers looked away, shame and fear mixing on their faces.

Billy Jr. couldn't take it anymore. He stood up from behind the hay bales, his young face streaked with tears and fury.

"You bastards!" he yelled, making everyone jump. "That's my Uncle Billy!"

"Billy Junior!" Rebecca's voice came through the phone. "Get away from there!"

But Pops put a protective hand on the boy's shoulder. "Easy, son. We're gonna find him."

Wade looked at the kidnappers, then at the phone screen showing his family and the Bensons. "They're cooperating, but they honestly can't pinpoint the location. The storm changed everything."

Billy Jr. wiped his eyes and stepped closer to Wade's phone. "Can you show me those pictures again? I might be able to tell from the trees and the ground what kind of area they were in."

Through FaceTime, Tom nodded. "Do it, son. You know those woods better than anyone."

The screen filled with the photos of Billy tied up, and Billy Jr. studied every detail with the intensity of a seasoned tracker, his tears replaced by determined focus.

"Uncle Billy taught me to never give up on family," he said quietly. "I ain't starting now."

Chapter 7: Night Vision

Billy had managed to work his face against a rough piece of bark until the gag finally slipped free from his mouth. The taste of wet rope and his own blood filled his mouth, but for the first time in hours, he could breathe freely.

The water was up to his chest now, cold and rising fast. Every few minutes, debris would float past - branches, trash, anything the storm had picked up and carried downstream. His arms had gone completely numb hours ago, the ropes cutting off all circulation, but somehow that made the cold bearable.

"HELP!" Billy screamed into the darkness, his voice hoarse and cracking. "SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

He waited, listening for any response over the sound of rushing water. Nothing but wind through the trees and the constant gurgle of the flood.

"JAKE! POPS! ANYBODY!"

A branch scraped against his back as the current tried to drag it past. Billy twisted his head, realizing that if the water got much higher, those same branches would start hitting his face. He had maybe an hour before he'd have to keep his head above water constantly, and after that...

He forced the thought away and screamed again. "I'M HERE! I'M IN THE WOODS!"

Jake's truck bounced over the muddy trail, headlights cutting through the darkness as they approached the search zone. Billy Jr. sat in the passenger seat, night vision scope in his lap, studying the terrain through the windshield.

"Stop here," Billy Jr. said suddenly. "This is where the water would've come from."

Jake killed the engine. In the sudden quiet, they could hear water rushing somewhere ahead of them - not the gentle babble of a normal creek, but the aggressive roar of flood runoff.

Billy Jr. pulled on his night vision scope and immediately began scanning the woods. Through the green-tinted view, he could see the path the floodwater had carved - a channel maybe fifty yards wide that definitely hadn't existed that morning.

"The campsite would've been upstream from here," he said, his voice carrying the confidence of someone who'd spent hundreds of hours in these woods. "Higher ground, but close enough to water for them to use normally."

Jake grabbed his own night vision gear - not as sophisticated as his nephew's, but good enough. "How far upstream?"

"Maybe half a mile. There's a ridge that way that would've been perfect for a hidden camp." Billy Jr. keyed his radio. "Base, this is Junior. We're starting our sweep from coordinates..." He rattled off GPS numbers like a professional.

Ray's voice crackled back through the radio. "Copy that, Junior. Tom's team is working the south side, Wade's got the north. You two have the middle."

They moved through the flooded woods carefully, Billy Jr. leading despite being half Jake's size. Every few minutes, he'd stop and use his heat sensor, scanning for any warm body that might be Billy.

"Uncle Jake," Billy Jr. whispered suddenly. "I hear something."

Jake stopped, straining to listen over the sound of rushing water. There - faint, but definitely human. Someone shouting.

"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

"That's Billy!" Jake's voice cracked with relief and terror. The voice was weak, desperate, but unmistakably his brother.

Billy Jr. was already moving toward the sound, his night vision scope showing him a safe path through the debris-filled water. "This way! He's about two hundred yards upstream!"

They splashed through the flood, fighting the current, following Billy's increasingly hoarse cries for help. Jake had never moved so fast through difficult terrain, but somehow Billy Jr. stayed ahead of him, navigating by instinct and technology.

"I'M HERE!" Billy screamed again, closer now. "IN THE WATER!"

"BILLY!" Jake shouted back. "We're coming! Keep yelling!"

Through his night vision scope, Billy Jr. could see a shape in the water ahead - something that didn't belong, too regular to be natural debris.

"There!" he pointed. "Uncle Jake, there he is!"

Jake saw him then - Billy's head just barely above the surface, his body twisted at an unnatural angle, completely helpless in the rushing water.

"Jesus Christ," Jake breathed, then louder: "Billy! We see you! Hold on!"

Billy's response was a sob of relief that carried clearly across the water. "Jake... I can't... I can't hold my head up much longer..."

Billy Jr. was already keying his radio. "Base, this is Junior. We found him. GPS coordinates..." He rattled off their location. "We need rope, bolt cutters, and medical. NOW."

"Copy that, son," Tom's voice came back, tight with emotion. "We're on our way."

Jake was already wading into the deeper water toward his brother. "Billy Jr., you stay on dry ground and guide the others in when they get here."

"Uncle Jake—"

"That's an order, soldier," Jake said, borrowing Pops' military terminology. "You did good. You found him. Now let me get him free."

Billy Jr. nodded and took up position on higher ground, his night vision scope and radio ready to coordinate the rescue. Behind them, the sound of engines and voices grew closer as both families raced through the night to save Billy.

But as Jake reached his brother and saw the extent of the rope work, the blue tint to Billy's skin, and how little strength he had left, one thought dominated his mind: they might have found Billy, but the fight to save his life was just beginning.

Chapter 8: Cut Him Free

Jake reached Billy just as another surge of water threatened to push his brother's head under. Billy's lips were blue, his eyes barely focused, but when he saw Jake's face in the beam of the flashlight, he managed a weak smile.

"About fuckin' time," Billy whispered, his voice barely audible over the rushing water.

"Get these fucking ropes off me!" Billy's desperation was raw, primal - hours of agony condensed into those five words.

Jake pulled out his knife, but his hands were shaking. The rope work was complex, and Billy's arms were so swollen from the restricted circulation that Jake couldn't tell where the ropes ended and his brother's flesh began.

"Easy, brother. I got you." Jake forced his voice to stay calm even though his heart was hammering. "Billy Jr., get over here with that light!"

Billy Jr. splashed into the shallower water, training his flashlight on the ropes. "Uncle Jake, his arms..."

Billy's biceps and triceps were mottled purple-black, the rope burns deep and bleeding where the bonds had cut into his skin for hours. But worse was the oak branch - it had been pressing into his muscles for so long that deep grooves were carved into his flesh.

"Jesus, Billy," Jake breathed.

"Just... just cut me loose," Billy gasped. "I can't feel my arms anymore."

Jake started with the ankle ropes, freeing Billy's legs first. Billy groaned as his legs straightened, cramped muscles screaming back to life.

"The branch," Billy Jr. said, studying the complex ropework with surprising tactical awareness. "You gotta lift it off his back while you cut the arm ropes, or it's gonna fall on the wounds."

Jake looked at his eleven-year-old nephew with new respect. "You're right. Can you hold this end up?"

Together, they lifted the heavy oak branch while Jake sawed through the ropes around Billy's biceps. As each rope gave way, Billy cried out - not from pain, but from relief as circulation slowly returned to his arms.

"There," Jake said, pulling the last of the rope away. "You're free."

Billy tried to push himself up with his arms and immediately collapsed. His arms were useless, the muscles too damaged and circulation too poor to support his weight.

"I can't... my arms won't work," Billy's voice cracked with frustration and fear.

"That's okay," Jake said, pulling Billy up by grabbing him under the shoulders. "Just lean on me."

Billy Jr. was already on his radio. "Base, we got him free. He's conscious but hypothermic. His arms are badly damaged from the ropes. We're bringing him out now."

Tom's voice came back immediately. "Rebecca's got Doc Peterson on the way to the house. Bring him straight there."

Jake half-carried, half-dragged Billy toward higher ground, Billy Jr. lighting the way with his flashlight and guiding them around obstacles. Billy's legs were working, but barely - he stumbled constantly, leaning heavily on Jake.

"Come on, tough guy," Jake grunted, supporting most of his brother's weight. "You gonna let a little rope keep you down?"

"Fuck you," Billy managed, but there was gratitude in his voice.

When they reached Jake's truck, Tom, Wade, and Ray were already there with blankets and the first aid kit. They wrapped Billy in dry blankets while Jake started the engine and cranked the heat.

"Hospital," Tom said, climbing into the back with Billy.

"No," Billy said firmly, his teeth chattering. "Home. I want to go home."

"Son, you need—"

"Dad, please. Just... let me go home."

Tom looked at his youngest son - exhausted, hypothermic, rope burns covering his arms, but alive and conscious. "Doc Peterson will meet us there?"

"Already on his way," Rebecca's voice came through Billy Jr.'s radio. "I've got everything ready."

Jake drove carefully but quickly through the muddy back roads, Billy Jr. riding shotgun and monitoring their progress on GPS. In the back seat, Tom kept Billy talking, making sure he stayed conscious.

"How you feeling, son?"

"Like I got tied up and left in a flood," Billy said, managing a weak grin. "But I'm alive. Thanks to Jake and Billy Jr."

Billy Jr. turned around in his seat. "Uncle Billy, I was so scared we wouldn't find you in time."

"Kid, you saved my life," Billy said, his voice serious despite his exhaustion. "Both of you did."

When they pulled up to the ranch house, the entire Nelson family was waiting on the porch along with Sarah, Josh, and Rebecca. Doc Peterson's truck was already in the driveway.

Jake and Tom helped Billy out of the truck, his legs steadier now but his arms still useless. As they walked toward the house, Edna ran down the porch steps.

"Billy!" She stopped just short of throwing her arms around him, seeing the rope burns and how carefully he was moving.

"Hey, beautiful," Billy said, giving her that cocky grin despite everything he'd been through. "Miss me?"

Edna started crying and laughing at the same time. "You asshole! I thought... I thought..."

"Takes more than some rednecks and a little water to kill a Benson," Billy said, then looked at Jake and Billy Jr. "Especially when you got family looking out for you."

As they helped him into the house where Doc Peterson was waiting with medical supplies, Billy Jr. stayed close to his uncle's side. The eleven-year-old who had led a nighttime rescue operation through flooded woods was suddenly just a kid again, relieved beyond measure that his hero was safe.

"Uncle Billy?" he said quietly.

"Yeah, Jr.?"

"Next time you want to take pictures, maybe do it inside the house."

Despite everything, Billy laughed. "Deal, kid. Fucking deal."

Chapter 9: The Benson OR

The ranch house kitchen had been transformed into a makeshift emergency room. Doc Peterson worked efficiently, his medical bag spread across the counter while Billy sat shirtless at the kitchen table, still wrapped in blankets.

"Rope burns are deep, but clean," Doc Peterson announced, examining Billy's arms under the bright overhead lights. "Circulation's returning - that's good. No permanent nerve damage that I can see."

Rebecca handed him sterile gauze and antiseptic. "His core temperature?"

"Coming up. Another degree and he'll be out of hypothermic range." Doc Peterson began cleaning the worst of the rope burns on Billy's biceps. "This is gonna sting, son."

Billy gritted his teeth as the antiseptic hit the raw wounds. "Fuck, that hurts worse than the ropes."

"Language!" Sarah scolded automatically, but her heart wasn't in it. She was too relieved to see her youngest son conscious and complaining.

Mary Nelson appeared at Billy's elbow with a steaming mug. "Chicken soup," she said softly. "It's hot."

Billy tried to lift his arms to take the cup and winced. His muscles were still too damaged to function properly.

"I got it," Edna said, taking the mug and holding it to Billy's lips. He drank gratefully, the hot broth warming him from the inside.

Within fifteen minutes, Doc Peterson had Billy's arms bandaged, his core temperature stabilized, and his vital signs back to normal. The old doctor packed up his supplies with practiced efficiency.

"Antibiotics twice a day for a week," he said, handing Billy a bottle of pills. "And these are for pain, but only if absolutely necessary. They'll make you drowsy."

Billy looked at the pain medication, then at the faces surrounding him. "Pain meds? Hell, I want a beer and I'm starving!"

"Billy!" Rebecca protested. "You just nearly died!"

"But I didn't," Billy grinned, that familiar cocky smile returning. "What've we got for leftovers?"

Jake laughed despite his exhaustion. "Kid nearly drowns tied to a tree and he's worried about dinner."

Sarah was already opening the refrigerator. "There's pot roast from earlier, mashed potatoes..."

"Perfect. But make it quick - I'm declaring breakfast at dawn. We're all gonna need real food after this night."

Pops had been quiet through the medical treatment, but now he stood up and walked to the kitchen cabinet where he kept his emergency whiskey. He pulled out a cold beer and popped it open.

"Here you go, son," he said, handing it to Billy. "You earned it."

"Pops!" Sarah and Rebecca protested in unison.

"POPS!" Mary Nelson added her voice to the scolding.

"What?" Pops shrugged. "Boy survived a kidnapping and a flood. I think he's earned one beer."

Billy took the bottle gratefully, managing to grip it despite his bandaged arms. "Thanks, Pops. First thing that's made sense all night."

Tom looked around at both families crowded into the kitchen - exhausted, emotionally drained, but finally able to breathe again. "Everyone's staying here tonight. No arguments."

Within an hour, the house had settled into the quiet aftermath of crisis. Sarah and Rebecca had heated up leftovers and everyone had eaten something, though most were too exhausted for much conversation.

Jake and Billy claimed their old bunk beds, with Billy Jr. unrolling his sleeping bag on the floor between them. Tom and Sarah took their bedroom, while Josh and Rebecca settled into their own room. Mary and Wade Nelson took the guest room, with Ryan and Wilson Nelson claiming couches in the living room.

Edna had claimed the chair beside Billy's bed, determined to keep watch over him through the night.

"You don't have to stay," Billy mumbled, already half asleep from exhaustion and the warmth of the house.

"Try and stop me," Edna replied, pulling a blanket over her legs.

Billy Jr. looked up from his sleeping bag at his uncle. "Uncle Billy?"

"Yeah, Jr.?"

"I'm glad you're okay."

"Me too, kid. Me too."

Within minutes, the house was filled with the quiet sounds of sleep - the first peaceful rest any of them had managed since Billy's photo session that felt like a lifetime ago. Outside, the storm had passed, leaving behind a clean-washed sky full of stars and a family that had learned just how much they meant to each other.

Pops sat in his recliner in the living room, the only one still awake, keeping watch over his sleeping family like the old soldier he'd always been. Some habits, he knew, you never outgrew.

Chapter 10: Breakfast at Noon

Billy woke to the smell of bacon and coffee drifting through the house. Sunlight streamed through the bedroom windows, and for a moment he couldn't remember where he was or why his arms hurt so badly.

Then it all came flooding back.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," Jake said from the bottom bunk, already dressed. "How you feeling?"

Billy tried to sit up and immediately regretted it. His arms screamed in protest, the rope burns stiff and painful under the bandages.

"Like I got hogtied by rednecks and left in a flood," Billy groaned, but managed a weak grin.

"That's because you did," Billy Jr. said, rolling up his sleeping bag with military precision. "I'm gonna go help Mom with breakfast."

"Good idea, kid," Billy said, still struggling to sit up properly.

After Billy Jr. left, Jake pulled out his phone and grinned. "We need to do something for Jr. Kid saved your life."

"I know," Billy said seriously. "What you thinking?"

Jake was already pulling up the Cabela's website. "How about a shopping spree? Kid loves all that tactical gear."

"How much we talking?"

"Five hundred bucks. That'll get him some serious equipment."

Billy tried to reach for his wallet and winced. "Shit. Can't even get my wallet out."

"I got it," Jake said, pulling out his credit card. "We'll split it. Two-fifty each."

Jake started setting up the gift certificate on his phone while Billy watched, both of them grinning at the thought of Billy Jr.'s reaction.

"Kid's gonna lose his mind," Billy chuckled.

"Fucking A, he is," Jake agreed. "Look at this tactical vest... night vision upgrades... this kid's gonna be better equipped than a Navy SEAL."

The two brothers made their way downstairs, where the kitchen was bustling with both families gathered around the big table, plates piled high with food.

"There he is," Tom said, looking up from his newspaper. "How you feeling, son?"

"Better," Billy said, settling carefully into a chair. "Arms are still pretty useless, but I'm alive."

"Damn right you're alive," Pops said, raising his coffee mug. "Takes more than some half-assed kidnappers to kill a Benson."

"Language, Pops!" Sarah called from the stove.

Edna appeared with a plate piled high with eggs, bacon, and pancakes. "You need to eat," she said, immediately starting to cut his food into manageable pieces.

Billy Jr. was helping serve coffee, chattering about all the gear he'd used during the rescue mission. "Uncle Jake, remember when my heat sensor picked up that deer instead of Uncle Billy? I thought for sure we were gonna find Bambi tied to a tree."

Everyone laughed, the tension of the previous night finally giving way to relief and normal family banter.

"Speaking of gear," Jake said, catching Billy's eye and nodding toward his phone, "that was some pretty professional work last night, Jr."

"Thanks! I've been practicing with all the equipment you guys got me. I knew exactly which GPS coordinates to call in and everything."

Jake hit send on his phone, then casually set it aside.

About two minutes later, Billy Jr.'s phone started ringing with an email notification.

"Oh, hang on," Billy Jr. said, pulling out his phone. "Email from... Cabela's?"

He opened it and his eyes went completely wide.

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed.

"BILLY JUNIOR!" Rebecca snapped.

"Sorry! But... but..." He held up his phone, staring at the screen in disbelief. "Uncle Billy and Uncle Jake just sent me a $500 gift certificate to Cabela's!"

"What?!" Billy Jr. looked back and forth between his uncles in shock.

Billy tried to shrug but winced. "You saved my life, kid."

Billy Jr. rushed over to hug Billy carefully, then squeezed Jake tight. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"You earned every penny," Jake said, ruffling his nephew's hair.

Billy Jr. was already pulling up the Cabela's website on his phone. "Oh man, look at this tactical flashlight! And this hunting knife! And these night vision goggles that are way better than mine!"

"Slow down there, Special Forces," Josh laughed, watching his son scroll at lightning speed.

"Can I get this $180 survival kit? And this GPS tracker? And this tactical vest just like Pops had in Vietnam?"

"Kid, you can get whatever your heart desires," Billy said, grinning despite his pain.

"Holy crap, look at this rope! It says it's 'escape-proof!'" Billy Jr. announced.

The table erupted in laughter.

"Maybe we should all invest in some of that," Wade Nelson chuckled.

Billy Jr. was practically vibrating with excitement, showing everyone different items from the catalog while both families watched with joy and relief. After everything they'd been through, watching an eleven-year-old plan the ultimate camping shopping spree felt like the most wonderful thing in the world.

"You know what the best part is?" Billy said, watching his nephew's excitement. "Jr.'s gonna be so well-equipped, next time somebody tries to mess with this family, they're gonna have to deal with a miniature Navy SEAL."

"Fuckin' A," Pops said proudly.