Chapter Text
After they found a single finger in a package addressed to Tobias Beecher, Beecher decided he needed to step up his game. He hadn't heard anything new from Zabitz, and time seemed to be running out. He decided he needed a new tact.
He had met Saul Goodman briefly at a legal conference years ago, and Toby could remember thinking the man seemed to be working for the wrong side of the law. But somehow he also seemed like a man with contacts.
He made the call. Saul promised to send someone who could get the job done.
A day and a half later, Toby had a visitor.
Mike entered Oswald Correctional Facility nonchalantly. It wasn't his first time visiting maximum security prison, but it was his first time visiting this one. He arrived wearing a gray suit and his reading glasses, and carrying briefcase filled with boring legal papers that had absolutely nothing to do with visiting Tobias Beecher.
Mike recognized his "client" immediately and calmly took a seat. "Saul Goodman sent me."
"Hi," Toby said quickly. "I... I'm going to cut to the chase. Please tell me you can find my kids. They're .. the FBI is barking up the wrong tree and I got... they sent..." Tobias had to use every ounce of energy to not break down.
"Take a breath," Mike said, voice steady and low. "I will do my absolute best to find your children. What did they send?"
Mike braced himself for something horrible, though hands were folded neatly on the table and his expression was stone calm.
"A finger. They said... it's my son's. Gary. He's seven."
Mike blinked. It was the only sort of reaction he could give while in his professional state of mind.
"Anything else? Nothing from your daughter?"
Toby shook his head. "N-nothing from her."
Mike nodded. "Listen, there's a pretty good chance your children are still alive and if I work fast then maybe we can recover them. But I need you to do a couple of things on your end. You think that the guy responsible for their kidnapping is in this building?"
"Yeah." Toby's expression was icy. "Vern Schillinger. This Nazi fuck."
Mike kept his bored expression. "Yeah, him. I'm gonna need you not to confront him. If the situation between he and you escalates too quickly, you'll risk losing time to rescue your kids. I'm gonna also need you to continue grieving, however you're doing it. Don't act hopeful. I think it's pretty obvious by the lack of ransom notes and the finger being mailed that your kidnapper wants you to suffer. The longer you appear to suffer, the longer he's gonna drag this out and give us a chance to find your kids. Did you get all that? Or do you need me to repeat it?"
Toby shook his head. "That... that shouldn't be a problem. And I won't tell anyone about this." There was a bit of hurt in that last statement. He wished he could tell Chris. He did trust Chris, really he did, but... He couldn't risk having his own need to be comforted end up in his kids being dead. It was bad enough that this thing had happened to Gary, that Genevieve was dead. It was all on him. God, it was all on him. "Do you... will Gary be okay? If ... if you find him?"
"He'll be shy a finger," Mike said dryly with no hint of a smile. "but yeah, I think he'll be alright so long as we get to him in time. Now, is there anything else you'd like to tell me? Because chances are I'll be working around the clock and you'll only be able to contact me through Goodman."
Toby shook his head. "Just... just get me my kids back. Anything I've done... that's not on them. They shouldn't have to suffer for my mistakes. I just... I just want them safe."
Mike nodded solemnly. "You take care, Beecher. Goodman will call you when we find them."
He rose from his chair and extended a hand for his client to shake.
Toby extended his hand and shook Mike's. He looked him in the eye, finding himself unable to stare down at their hands.
Mike gave him a steady look back. He was determined to find these children. He hadn't had a job like this since his days in Philly as a cop. Letting go of Beecher's hand, Mike walked out of the visiting room. It occurred to him that he might need some back up and there was only one person he wanted to call.
Back in the ABQ, Jesse was sitting on his futon, watching TV. Thank God they had found that ricin cigarette. He still couldn't believe he had almost blown Mr. White's head off based on his own stupidity. Thank God the man had forgiven him, even if he had been acting weird as hell recently.
Mike was just driving over ABQ's city limits when he finally dialed Jesse. He held the burner phone to his ear and listened to it ring.
Jesse picked up on the first ring.
"Hey. Who's this?" The number wasn't familiar, but that could mean it was either Mr. White or Mike.
"It's Mike. Where are you?"
"Home. What's going on?"
"I want to ask you about something. Best not to say it over the phone. I'll be there in a minute."
"Okay, Mike. I'll see you when you get here. I'm alone, so you're okay there."
Mike felt a smile inch onto his face. He hung up and a few minutes later he was at Jesse's door, knocking.
Jesse arrived at the door and quickly let Mike in.
"Hey. What's going on? Is everything alright?"
"With the business? Yeah. This is non-meth related, Kid. As you know, I do the occasional job passed to me by Saul."
Jesse nodded, trying not to remember the job Saul had called Mike for the day they met.
"Well, I've been hired to locate and retrieve two kidnapped children. Finding them probably won't be too difficult but retrieving them, I'm probably gonna need back up, if for no other reason than I can't carry two kids and shoot at the same time. I was wondering if you would back me up on this."
Jesse looked at him and sat down on the futon. "Sure, Mike. You know I'm always... I'll always help you. I can get these kids out. What should I know? What happened?"
"The father of the children is Tobias Beecher, he's in Oswald Correctional Facility for a hit and run. The man who ordered the kidnapping is suspected to be Vern Schillinger, leader of the Aryan Nation in Oswald. They have a long and bad history that's not really worth getting into. Our focus will be on retrieving Gary and Holly Beecher who were kidnapped on their way to their grandparents from school and taken away in a blue van. They've been missing for days and the kidnappers have mailed Gary’s finger to Beecher."
Jesse stared at him. "Wait. Wait. Wait. Rewind back to they sent him a fucking FINGER?!"
Mike closed his eyes and nodded solemnly. Of course he was as disgusted and outraged too, he just reigned it in.
"We need to find these kids right now, Mike! They're... they must be terrified."
Mike nodded. "That's right, Kid. They probably are, which is why the sooner we get a move on the better. But still, you might want to pack a few things. It might take awhile to track them down and we're going way out of town just to see where they were taken from."
"Okay. I should bring some things for them, too. They'll probably need blankets and stuff. Some comforting stuff. How old are they?" Jesse inquired, already standing up and moving to pack his bag. He stuffed a pillow and some blankets in his bag.
"Six and seven," Mike said, surprised at Jesse's forethought.
"God," Jesse whispered. "Brock's age. We need bottled water... uh, lots of blankets. In case they're in shock, right?"
"Yeah," Mike said with his arms crossed. "They'll probably be in shock."
He'd seen Jesse this serious down in Mexico but it was still strange to him.
"Okay," Jesse threaded his hands together. "So you'll be handling the getting-in part and I can handle the kid part? Cause I was thinking... uhh... I mean, other people they don't know are gonna be asking them to come with. That's probably how it all started."
"Yep, that's the reasonable division of labor. As for the stranger-danger, we might not have a lot of time to convince them. Worst case scenario, each of us runs in, scoops a kid up and carries them to the car. If that's not the case, stay calm and quick about convincing them." Mike said. "But we can talk about that on the drive up there. We should be packing the car."
"Okay," Jesse said with a nod. "I think I've got just about everything I need." He darted around, grabbing more blankets, a case of water, and some of his softest pillows. He also had a bottle of Children's Advil in his cabinet for Brock, so he grabbed that as well. Next were Band-Aids and other bandages, and then he looked at Mike. "Anything else?"
"I think you've got them covered. We'll grab some light snacks from the store, in case they've been starved."
Jesse nodded. "I can't even imagine. Their father must be freaking out. If that were Brock..." But Jesse couldn't think about that. "Where's their mom? You said they were living at the grandparents'?"
"Their mother committed suicide a while ago," Mike said bluntly, starting to carry the supplies to the car.
Jesse gaped at him. "Jesus Christ, Mike! They didn't... please tell me they didn't find her."
Mike gave a solemn nod.
Jesse stared, blinking. "Good God, Mike. I... jeez, I can... remember finding Jane and what that did to me. But a kid finding someone?"
"Its a terrible thing and it happens far too often," Mike said, wishing he didn't know that.
He packed the car, checking that there would still be room in the back for the kids.
Jesse poked his head in the back and grinned at the older man.
"You sure they won't laugh at your grandpa-mobile, Mike?" he teased. "To them it'll be like a horse and buggy."
"Hey," Mike said, feigning seriousness. "Don't mock this car. This car has made more getaway escapes than those little sports cars will ever see."
He shut the door and walked to the driver's side.
Jesse grinned. "I don't doubt that." He hopped into the passenger's seat. "So how far away are we going, anyway?"
"Clear across the country, Kid," Mike said buckling his seatbelt. "Traveling Northeast for about 16 hours, and that's if traffic is good."
“I didn't know you were national, Mike."
"Yeah, I'm a nationwide phenomenon, Jesse. Haven't you heard?" Mike said, pulling out of the driveway.
"Well, you're the best. But on a serious note, how are you doing?" Jesse asked, gesturing towards Mike's gunshot wound.
"I'm okay," Mike replied, surprised to have it brought up. The only one that used to ask about his injuries on the job was Gus. "Thanks...Hey, isn't there a call you need to make?"
Jesse groaned. "He's not gonna be happy. At all."
"You want me to make the call?" Mike asked, honestly offering.
"Nah... I gotta fight my own battles, Mike," Jesse told him. "I gotta stand up to him." He sighed, picked up the phone, and hit the entry for "Mr. White".
Mike felt oddly proud, smirking as he kept his eyes on the road.
The phone rang three times in Jesse's ear before he finally got an answer.
"Hey, Mr. White," he started in. "I'm not gonna be back for a few days."
"What? What are you talking about? Jesse, We have to cook."
"I'm doing a job for Mike. It's really important. And come on, Mr. White, you can cook on your own for a couple of days. You've done it before. You don't need me," Jesse told him.
"Mike? A job? What kind of job? Is it related to our business? We are all equal partners in this and if something's going on I have a right to know!"
"It's nothing to do with you, Mr. White. We're just going to get some guy's kids. Nothing you'd be interested in."
"If it doesn't have to do with me and the business then why are you going?! I'm NOT going through this again with you, Jesse. Mike picking you up and taking you from the lab at any time of the day. We have work to do and YES I can cook by myself, but it still takes longer and puts us behind schedule. And why the hell are you two going to help some random man's kids. That's got nothing to do with you, Jesse!"
"Jesus Christ, Mr. White." Jesse held the phone away from his ear for fear he'd get a headache. "We're partners three ways and so Mike and me, uh, voted and uh so you're outvoted and I'm going. Mike needs me on this and, uh, these kids need me too. I won't be gone that long and... ah... like I said Mr. White, you can do it on your own. You can dock my pay or whatever. You still owe me for that advance so I dunno, keep some of it."
"I-bu-PUT MIKE ON THE PHONE!"
"No, Mr. White. Listen... Listen to me. Okay. You've got a son, right? Okay... listen, if someone... uhhh kidnapped your son and cut off his finger, before you blew up the entire world you'd want someone to go get the rest of him, right?" Jesse tried to reason.
"Yes, but-" Walter paused. Considering that bad things happening to children were what turned Jesse against Gus, now might not be the best time to appear insensitive to the lives of children. "Fine. But it's coming out of your paycheck."
"Thank you so much, Mr. White," Jesse decided not to blow it while he was on top. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Take care of yourself okay?"
"Yeah," Walt said and hung up, still peeved about losing the argument.
Jesse looked over at Mike with a grin.
"Oh yeah. There we go. One two three - and played."
"Good job, Kid," Mike said, glad that he didn't have to deal with Walter blowing his top.
Jesse grinned at the praise.
"So what's our plan when we figure out where they are? I mean how are we even gonna find out who took 'em?"
"We'll be looking into Schillinger's Aryan connections in the area first. If that doesn't work out, we'll look at family he's got in the area, and beyond that we'll just have to scavenge looking for people who would kidnap for hire."
"Do people really do that?" Jesse asked with wide eyes. "I mean, who kidnaps some little kids just to get paid?"
"Scumbags, Jesse. Low life scumbags," Mike replied with a shake of his head. "Of course, if you're in that kind of business. Most have the common sense not to injure the children and especially not to remove fingers. I get the feeling these aren't professionals."
"Yeah, I mean..." Jesse said, "It's a little different than, y'know, making off with some rich guy's baby to get money from him and then returning the kid unharmed. That's still bad and scary but this... this is... I mean, do they even want money? Or is it just a... screwed up revenge thing? You said these guys have a history?"
"Mhm," Mike hummed. "It's a revenge type thing and that doesn't bode well for these kids. You might need to prepare yourself because we don't know the conditions they've been living in, or if anything else has happened to them right now."
Jesse nodded. "I mean, best-case scenario a kid only has nine fingers. I'm going to try my hardest to not pass the fuck out over that."
Mike nodded too and growled, "Sick fucks."
It was the only emotional reaction he'd given to the situation thus far.
Jesse actually looked a little nervous at Mike outwardly showing emotion. "We're gonna get them back, though. And then this guy... he can see them and hug them, tell him he loves 'em."
Mike took a breath. "Yeah, that's right, Kid."
"And they'll both be okay," Jesse said. "If he loves them. If it were my parents... jeez, they'd probably just tell me it was my fault I got napped."
Mike glanced at him. "But you'd know that it wasn't your fault, right?"
Jesse shook his head. "Not if I was six or seven, I wouldn't. Hell, even now, having gotten kidnapped by Tuco... Shit. I blamed myself for that. That I didn't fight when he showed up, that I took him to Mr. White. That Mr. White could've gotten sicker or died or something."
Mike was quiet for a moment. "Jesse, the kidnapping is always the fault of the kidnapper. A kidnapping can't happen if there's not someone out there to commit it."
"With kids, yeah. Y'know. Or innocent people. With me... shit, I was a sitting duck for Tuco back then. Mr. White blamed me for all of it and yeah, I didn't... ah, you know... just... I didn't. But it's cool. That stuff's water under the bridge."
Mike kept his eyes on the road but in his heart he felt a deep sort of sadness on Jesse's behalf. The Kid was more messed up than he'd ever realized. And although Jesse had only mentioned Walter's name in passing, he still felt better for getting Jesse away from that man for even a few days.
Jesse looked out the window. "I'll be sure to tell 'em, you know."
"That it wasn't their fault?"
"Yeah," Jesse said. "That it wasn't some... lesson in how they screwed up, or how they can't trust people. I want them to trust."
"That's good...They should know that," Mike said vaguely.
Jesse nodded. He moved to stare out the window with a sigh. "I hope this Beecher guy appreciates what we're doing for him."