Ondrej Palat exits Amalie Arena, wearing a simple, loose fitting gray v-neck hoodie and a pair of denim jeans. He heads toward his car. I can't believe Kuch left his puck in my car! It's like his prized possession! He shakes his head.

A sudden shadow from two people appear on either side of him. He spins around, finding two black-hooded figures. "Um, can I help you?"

The figures shake their heads and remove their masks, throwing them to the ground. It's Justin Abdelkader and Niklas Kronwall. They smirk at Ondrej, who gasps and takes a step back. The Czech player's heart begins to pound in his chest as they chuckle wickedly under their breaths, stepping toward him.

"What are you doing out here? Why are you smirking like that? We told you to get lost!" Ondrej remarks, his heart rate increasing as he realizes that the smirks on the two Red Wing's faces are anything but friendly.

"You shoulda brought a buddy, Pally," Kronwall snarls.

"Or at least not come alone," Abdelkader remarks.

Ondrej gulps and takes more steps back. "Look, I don't want any trouble." He suddenly whips around and dashes for it, running for the exit of the lot and screaming at the top of his lungs, "HELP!"

Abdelkader and Kronwall nod and dart after him, easily managing to catch him before he reaches the empty fan corral area. They grab him by the arms and halt his progress. Ondrej jerks at their holds.

"Cool it Pally, what's the rush? You all are looking for Yzerchuk and the little girl, right?" Abdelkader growls.

Ondrej suddenly freezes in his struggle. "How do you know--?"

"That's right, I took Yzerchuk!" Abdelkader snickers. "Gally said it was in Orlando, so I figured, might as well take a little trip. But seems to me that a little girl and a stick aren't enough to lure the little blond kid out. So, that's where you come in."

Kronwall rolls his eyes and adds on, "Also, we figure removing you from Kucherov works best in our favor. It was Pavel's idea."

"No! You're not hurting him!" Ondrej exclaims, pulling at their holds once more. "Let me go!"

"Why? You won't let us? Turns out, you can't do anything!" Abdelkader sneers.

Ondrej begins to scream as they force him toward the trolley tracks and then onto a passing car. "LET ME GO! NO!! STAMMER, VLADDY, TJ, VICTOR, KUCH!!" Unfortunately for poor Ondrej, his friends don't hear him screaming and the Red Wings are able to get him aboard the passing trolley car with ease.

"But I have to get Kuch his puck!" Ondrej insists as he is forced into a seat. "It's his special first NHL goal puck. He keeps it with him for the games as a good luck charm. He accidentally left it in my car and now won't get it!"

"Aww too bad. The little Russian baby can't have his pacifier. Oh frickin' well," Abdelkader snarls, spitting at Ondrej.

"You're monsters!" Ondrej snaps, lunging forward and trying to get free.

"No, we're Red Wings, who just don't like Tampa Bay Lightning players," Kronwall states. "There's a bit of a difference."

"Look Pally, just can't have you trying to stop us now. We are going to rock the Lightning so badly tonight! They won't have you and will be too busy worrying and then we can target your cute little baby Russian. Maybe send him flying into the boards. And hey, you can watch it too from where we're taking ya!"

Ondrej shakes his head. "No! Let me go!!"

"Krons, tie him up! I'll hold him!" Abdelkader barks, as they yank him to his feet. He holds Ondrej still, pinning his arms behind his back, while Kronwall withdraws a few coils of rope from his black cloak.

"No!! You're not hurting Kuch!" Ondrej screams and kicks at Kronwall, who dodges his kicks and loops the rope around the Czech player's wrists restraining them behind his back. He pulls the knot tightly and ties the rope securely in place. "JOHNNY!! HELP ME!"

Kronwall wraps another rope coil around Ondrej's wrists and then pockets the rest back into his cloak. Abdelkader shoves Ondrej back into a seat and pins him in place, staring at him. The Czech player looks at him with horror. "We will hurt Kuch and we will destroy your team and there's nothing you can do about it!"

"You'll never get away with it! Vladdy and the others will stop you!"

"Yeah and Galchenyuk's an actual Lightning player," Kronwall snarls as he withdraws a roll of black duct tape from his cloak now. He rips off a few strands of the adhesive and sticks one over Ondrej's mouth and the other halfway over the first, below it and then smooths the tape in place.

"That's just so you can shut up!" Abdelkader sneers, slapping Ondrej's cheek roughly, making the Czech player muffle his frustration and disgust.

The trolley car stops at the commands of the Red Wings along Old Water St. across from the Marriott Hotel. There is an opening to some kind of garage. Even though there is no stop, Abdelkader and Kronwall grab Ondrej and shove him off the trolley, before jumping down after him.

They grab Ondrej on either side and force him across the road, dodging cars. As he grunts and fights back, one car skids to a halt and someone's head pops out and the person shouts, "ONDREJ PALAT! It's Ondrej Palat...with Abdelkader and Kronwall?!?!"

Ondrej hears him and instantly snaps his head to the side, pleading with the person to help him out and trying to call to him through the tape over his mouth, but Abdelkader and Kronwall quicken their pace and vanish into the garage's open entrance with the struggling, frustrated hockey player.

"Ondrej!" a female's voice gasps.

Ondrej glances up and spots a small brunette girl sitting in a chair before him. Immediately he recognizes her and muffles, "Dani!" Behind her, a few feet away, is a glass dome trapping Yzerchuk inside. Yzerchuk! They weren't bluffing! And the others have no idea! And the game is in an hour...

"That's right, you're getting a friend! You and the stick!" Abdelkader snarls as the two force Ondrej forward and shove him down into a chair, that is placed back-to-back with the one that Dani is in and purposefully has him facing Yzerchuk and a large TV screen.

Kronwall then whips out another coil of rope and wraps it around Ondrej, who struggles in place, and the back of the chair, pasting him to it. Then he binds Ondrej's ankles together. The Czech player lunges forward trying to break the ropes, but manages to go nowhere, grunting with a helpless distress instead. "Yeah...turns out you and the stick aren't enough to lure out Vladdy alone, so now we have incentive."

Kronwall touches Ondrej's chin with his fingers and then steps back as Abdelkader pockets his cell phone. "Now the fun can begin! You see, Vladdy's gonna come alone. Otherwise... we're gonna kill you, Palat!"