I WOKE UP  because I was cold.

Once I woke up, I decided that I would prefer to go back to sleep. It was so much easier than actually dealing with the facts.

The facts, so much as I could ascertain, were thus: I was zip tied to what I perceived to be a radiator in a dark and cold room. Given its dank and musty odor, I knew it was basement. From where I sat, I could see a halfway closed door with a light on behind it. Behind this door were two men who had been arguing from the moment I had regained consciousness. I wished they would shut the hell up. My head was already pounding; their arguing, combined with the bass which I gathered was coming from the floor above, was making me want to puke.

Either that or I had a concussion. Along with maybe a bruised rib or two. I hadn't been thrilled with Nick's manhandling of me. When I expressed my dismay, he kicked me a couple of times in the stomach and backhanded into unconsciousness.

"She belongs to Cosetino. This is bad, Nico."

Nico. That must be Nicolae. Nick. Someone was talking to Nick. Whatev. I closed my eyes.

Nick answered in Russian. I don't know what he said, but it sounded obscene. Most likely it was about me.

"You want a war?" asked the first man. "Because you touch her, you're gonna have one. We gotta good relationship with the Cosetinos. Don't let a woman fuck it up."

"Pull down your pants, Ilya," said Nick, "I wanna see if you still got any balls."

"You're going to get us all killed," yelled the first man. "Over a woman, too. That's stupid, Nick. Stupid."

"It's a good as day to die as any." The door slammed open and the light came on. "Are you awake, little princess?" He came over had stood in front of me. "Finally. You are awake. What's the matter? Don't you feel well?"

My head hurt so badly I couldn't even look up at him. "Kill the lights," I moaned.

"Does your head hurt?" He knelt down in front of me, his asininely blue eyes evaluating me like I was livestock. "Let's see this bump."

I tried to my head, but I lacked sufficient energy. He grabbed my chin and turned my head, then prodded at where the bathroom stall door had hit me.

I winced. "Stop it, you douche."

"Da. You have a very bad bruise. When we get to Russia, we'll have a doctor look at it." He then pressed in on it, hard, so hard I saw stars.

I gasped; the pain came on so fast and hard I couldn't even scream.

"And that is for calling me douche." His teeth flashed bright in the dark.

I allowed myself to lean forward into the black. This, however, did not make him leave; instead, I felt him bury his hand into my hair. With an unnecessarily violent jerk, he pulled my head back. "I hope you are slow to learn," he said, his eyes piercing down into mine. "It's more fun that way."

I closed my eyes and let myself fall limp. I was so near to passing out that it was fairly easy to feign. He dropped my head, said something in Russian, and then the next thing I heard was, "She's passed out again. I thought she'd have more fight in her."

I heard the door slam. Finally. I was all alone in this pitch black room. I opened my eyes. A part of me wanted to cry, to scream for help, to lose control. But what good would that do, other than waste time and energy? If I wanted out of here before I got to experience the embrace of Mother Russian, I would have to do it myself.

I moved my wrists up and down, and thanked God that they used zip ties and not handcuffs. It's easier to get out of zip ties than handcuffs; I know this because all partner's kids at the Firm go through annual hostage and kidnapping training. I wiggled my hands around. Damn. Whoever put them on, put them on the right way.

Given that time was of the essence, I had one choice. While my feigned faint managed to loosen them a scooch, I still would have to break my thumb. Fortunately, I'd done it before; it was part of the mandatory training. So I felt around for that tiny little bone, whispered a quick Hail Mary, and pushed.

Damn, it hurt like shit. It hurt so bad I blacked out for a moment. When I came to, I pulled side to side until I feel a give; at that point I was able to get my hand through. I stood up and began feeling my way to the door with my good hand. I found the door knob and carefully turned it.

There stood Nick, leaning up against the wall and watching the door.

He smiled. "Well. Now I am not disappointed."

I moved to slam the door, but he bounced it off his hand. He walked in, a smug ass smile on his face. I tried to back up, and ended up tripping over a stack of boxes. I stifled a scream; I'd landed on my sore hand.

He prodded me with his toe. "Come along, little kitten. I have some business to take care of on the way to the airport."

"You go on," I croaked as I tried to crab walk away. "I'll wait here for you."

"Oh, no. I insist. It's something you need to see. I think you'll appreciate it."

"I'm good here, really."

He hauled me to my feet. "Illya!" he bellowed as he pulled out a syringe from his jacket pocket.

I pulled away. "Oh, come on, Nick. That's overkill..."

"It'll help you relax."

The lllya dude poked his head in. "Da?"

"Hold her."

The lllya dude was spectacularly ugly man who looked about as disgusted with the situation as I was. "Don't do this, Illya," I told him. "If you do this, Alex is going to kill you ugly."

He grimaced, but did as Nick told him. While Illya gripped me, Nick brushed my hair back. "Just a pinch," he told me as he stuck the needle in my neck.

A sharp stab followed by the feeling that my infrastructure was collapsing. I vaguely wondered if my bones had melted. I felt the floor grow closer and the room get wider. Words started pouring from my mouth.

"You're handsome," I said to Nick. "It's too bad you're evil."

Nick smiled. "That's a good girl."

"Seriously. You look like a movie pirate. Why do you have to be evil? If you weren't evil, I might even crush on you a bit."

He stroked my cheek. "I like you soft and compliant, little princess. I may keep you like this." He then disappeared.

Next, there were lights; there were sounds. I felt as if I were moving, while at the same time, I knew I had to be standing still. The music was distorted and slow. I saw people dancing and kissing. I saw a man in a top hat. I smiled at him, and in turn, he bowed to me.

"I'm being kidnapped," I told him.

"That's awesome," replied the man in the top hat. "Take pictures."

More noise, more lights. And then we were outside, but I couldn't figure out how. "You have a bald head," I told Illya. "Does it get cold in winter?"

He didn't answer. So I patted it. "You're short." I continued. "You're short with a bald head."

He grumbled something.

"Can we go back inside?" I asked. "I want to talk to the guy in the top hat again. He was unique."

"Nyet," he said.

"Yay! You can talk. I was worried you were mute. Mute. Mute." I looked up in the sky. "Mute is a funny word."

"You should be mute," sighed Illya.

"Mute. Mute. I am mute," I said.

"No, you are not."

"I am mute. You are mute. He, she, it is mute." I paused. "They are mute."

Illya said something in Russian.

"I do not speak Russian," I told him.

"You don't say," he replied.

"No, I do say," I said. "I just said. Didn't you hear me? I am not mute."

He said something else, which I didn't catch, and then there was a car. "Whoa. Is this a Tesla?" I asked. "I want a Tesla."

"Siobhan."

I turned around. "Who said that?"

"Siobhan."

"Somebody's calling my name."

"Get in," Illya snorted. "Get in now."

"Siobhan McIver."

Even drugged out of my mind, I would know that voice. "Donnelly! You're here! This is Illya. He's a henchman."

"Hi Illya. Hi Siobhan," said Donnelly as he floated up to us on a cloud of purple mist. "Whatcha doing?"

"I'm being kidnapped," I explained. "But they have a Tesla, so it's okay. And there's a man in a top hat who wants pictures."

"Well, aren't you high as a kite," said Donnelly. "What did they give you?"

"I don't know. I feel weird, like I'm an exoskeleton." I smiled. "I have the biggest crush on you, Donnelly, even though you're a pig who's always looking at my breasts."

"You have beautiful breasts," he told me, then turned to Illya. "What did you give her?"

"Thanks!" I told Donnelly. "I think so, too." I started unbuttoning my dress. "Let me show them to you."

He stopped me. "No, Siobhan. No unbuttoning your dress in public. I'm going to ask you again, Illya. What did you give her?"

Illya said something rude and then spit.

"Dude! You just spit. Or is it spat? Donnelly, is it spit or spat?"

I felt Illya grab me from the back. "Get in the car!" shouted Illya in my ear.

"Illya, you don't have to yell," I told him. "Illya's nervous," I explained to Donnelly. "He doesn't think that kidnapping me is a good idea."

"Illya sounds like he has some common sense." Donnelly pulled out a badge. "Federal Agent."

The next thing I knew I was sliding to the ground. There was some yelling. Fortunately, Special Agent Donnelly pulled me to my feet. He lifted my eyelids. "You are very, very high. Think, Siobhan. What did he give you?"

"I don't know. Will you kiss me?"

"No. Tell me what you remember. Did you drink something?"

"No. I was tied up. I had to break my thumb to escape." I showed it to him. "It used to hurt. Now I don't feel anything, really."

"That's because you're high." He looked at my hand. "Holy shit. You did break your thumb. You are such a dude, McIver."

"I am not a dude," I told him, insulted, and then started to unbutton my dress again. "I'll prove it to you."

"That's enough," he said, stopping me. "If you didn't drink anything, do you remember a pill? Maybe a shot?"

"Oh yeah!" I cried. "He totes gave me a shot in the neck." I grinned. "You're cute. I like you."

"Well, that narrows it down." He stopped a blue man and said, "We're going to need a bus."

"No, we don't," I told him. "Let's take a cab." I threw my arms around him. "Donnelly, you're my hero."

"Aw, shucks, m'am."

"I'm so grateful, I'm going to let you kiss me." I titled my face up. "Come on. Give me a kiss."

"Siobhan, no. I'm not kissing you."

"Kiss me," I pleaded.

He groaned and pulled back. "I'm not doing this. When I take advantage of you, I want you sober."

"I am sober. Is that a purple? Muu-t-t-t-e-e."

"Uh huh. Come on, McIver. Let's go to the hospital."

We walked a few steps until a hand around my upper arm pulled me backwards. I fell up against a tall, dark haired man.

"Where are you going, princess?"

"Nick!" I exclaimed and leaned my head back on his shoulder. "You smell like a forest."

"Who's your friend?" asked Donnelly.

"Donnelly! This is Nicolae Const...Con...Connie--"

"Constantinov," said Nick and Donnelly in unison.

I nodded vigorously. "Yeah, that," I answered. "He's kidnapping me."

"Constantinov, aren't you supposed to be in Missouri?"

"This isn't Missouri?" Nick asked. "I'm not from here. I don't know your states."

"You have pretty hair," I said to him. "It's sucks that you're evil."

"Let her go," said Donnelly.

"That's Special Agent Donnelly," I said to Nick. "You're in trouble now, buddy."

Nick said something, and then I felt myself being spun around. "Whee!" I cried. "Mu-uu-t-t-e."

Shouty people came. There was a lot of yelling. I look up at the sky; it was so bright. "Whoa. The sun's coming up, " I said. "Wait. Is that a street light? I think it's a street light. I feel like I'm falling."

The ground came closer, but then a strong set of arms caught me. "I got you," said Donnelly.

"It would be weird if I said I love you, wouldn't it?" I asked him.

"No. What's not to love?"

The next thing I knew, I was lying in a van on a bed with wheels. "My head hurts," I moaned.

"I know," said Donnelly.

I reached for his hand. "Donnelly, will you stay with me?"

"Yes, I'll stay with you."

"You have soft hands," I told him.

He said something, but he was too far away for me to hear. I could still feel him, though; I felt his hand clasp mine, while his other stroked my forehead. With Donnelly here, I felt safe; I was safe, so I closed my eyes. Sleep quickly took hold of me and I fell down into its soft, peaceful, darkness.

_____ * _____ * _____ * _____ * _____

Aw. Siobhan gets rescued by Mr. Snarky FBI Agent Donnelly. He's speaking Irish to her and everything. Maybe they should date... whoops. Oh yeah. About that...

Thank you so much for taking time to read Siobhan's story! I look forward to your comments, and if you liked it, please remember to vote!

©Copyright Liz Charnes May 2018

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