A Rose Called Miracle: Book #2, Part 6
CHAPTER 17
Tuesday dawned bright, but much colder. Sascha stood in the bedroom deciding what to wear. Robert slid behind her and rubbed her shoulders. She purred and leaned back against him. When he finished, she poured a cup of coffee from the insulated carafe on the table. Either Birgit or Agatha had delivered it while she showered. Sometimes Sascha missed the simple chore of brewing her own morning coffee. She took her cup and a breakfast biscuit into her office and walked over to the south-facing picture window. Westbound traffic was a mess. At a glance, she estimated a backup of at least a mile. "Somebody's having a bad day," She mused when she noticed the flashing blue lights in the distance. She checked her e-mail--no class cancellations; one from Mom, just saying Hi. From the closet, Robert reminded her that they'd been invited that evening to a reception at the Israeli Consulate welcoming the newly arrived Consul-General. She double-checked her e-mail and found a second message from Prof J to see him about the paper. "Robert," she called out, "I remember the reception. I assume my blue gown will be okay, or can I get away with something less formal?"; 'Prof J:' (she typed) '14:30 for the paper?'
She packed up her texts for the day along with her laptop, lunch, and coffee thermos. She went back to their bedroom and opted for jeans and a warm flannel shirt. She stopped and stripped off the shirt and went back to her closet. She dug around for a few seconds and found a white blouse with vertical pink stripes Allison had insisted on buying for her. She nodded, "That's better." She put on her heavy, red wool hooded coat and a pink Boston Red Sox baseball cap that Robert had gotten her as a joke. He claimed she would look like a real New Englander. It was a nice hat, so she wore it; but, inside in big black letters she'd printed, GO PIRATES. 'Take That!' She thought as she closed and locked their apartment.
"Good morning gentlemen," She greeted the security team by the elevator.
"Good morning, Your Highness," They replied.
Sascha still struggled, and was uncomfortable with the formality, "Please, just Sascha."
"Good morning...Your Highness," Replied the older man. Sascha sighed...defeated for the moment.
Sascha stepped out of the building and turned right for the campus. She turned her face up to admire the cloudless sky. The hood dropped over her head without warning. She screamed and clawed and kicked trying to get loose of the hands holding her. She freed her hand and reached under the hood. She reached up and tried to activate her panic button, but her captors yanked both hands behind her back and secured them with flex ties. Strong hands picked her up and tossed her into a vehicle. She was thrown against the side as the driver accelerated into a screeching U-turn. As soon as the vehicle straightened, and she'd almost regained balance, hands grabbed her, she felt a sting in her arm, and everything went dark.
Sascha struggled to clear her head. Through a tiny flaw in the black hood Sascha could faintly see the pair of black sneakers. Their owner wondered aloud how long the drug would keep her unconscious. He kicked her knee, but she managed not to move. "How much of that shit did you give her? Didn't doctor say she'd be awake by now?"
"I give her just what I was told; she must be smaller than we thought." The black-sneakered man answered
"Well, we need her awake as soon as possible. If husband demands proof she's alive, she needs to be awake to talk or whatever." Sascha heard footsteps walking away.
"Come on girl, wake the hell up." The black-sneakered one muttered with a heavy accent. Sascha guessed Russian. He kicked her again. This time it hurt.
Sascha faked a groan. She was tired of being kicked.
"Kirill? Is girl awake yet?" Someone called from some distance away.
"Almost. She starting to groan a little bit."
'Okay.' Sascha thought, 'Black sneakers=Kirill.' He nudged her again with his foot.
"Please, stop. Don't hurt me." Sascha pleaded, trying to sound pathetic and weak. She tried moving, testing. Her shoulders ached because her hands were restrained behind her back. Her head ached too...'a hangover from whatever drug they hit me with,' she thought.
"Water, please?" She moaned. "I'm so thirsty."
"I'm going to take off the hood." Kirill said, "Close your eyes until I tell you. If you open your eyes before I tell you, I will hit you so hard you will be out for another two days. Understand girl?"
"I understand. My eyes are closed." Sascha whispered into the hood.
"Speak up girl!"
"I understand. My eyes are closed."
A hand lifted the hood off. A thick blindfold immediately replaced it. "You may open eyes...not that you will be able to see." The voice chuckled.
'We'll see who gets the last laugh you asshole.' Sascha thought as she tested her restraints again and took a deep breath. She immediately felt better with fresh air to breathe and not the stale crap under the hood.
"Here is water. Open mouth." Kirill held a straw until Sascha found it and drank greedily.
"Where am I?" Sascha asked after she finished the water.
"Shut up! No questions!" Kirill snapped.
"Please? My shoulders hurt so much..."
Strong hands grabbed her from behind and hoisted her to her feet. "Stand still. If you try to run or fight...I will beat you." Sascha felt, rather than saw, whatever was binding her wrists being undone. She pulled her hands in front of her and rubbed her wrists and hands while flexing her shoulders. Without thinking she reached up for the blindfold...
Kirill grabbed her wrist, "Don't!" He demanded.
"Let go of my wrist! You're hurting me!"
"If you try that again I break your arm." He growled.
"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I won't do it again. Please stop hurting me."
He eased his grip...slightly. "Come with me. Take small steps, feet restrained." Sascha almost fell, but quickly got her balance and followed Kirill for a short distance. "Sit!" He ordered. He shoved her backwards until her knees banged into the edge of a mattress...a poorly padded, very thin, uncomfortable mattress.
"Lay back." He held both her hands until Sascha lay flat. He roughly slapped handcuffs onto both her wrists and secured them to the sides of the bed frame. Sascha struggled for a few seconds. Finished with her hands, Kirill secured Sascha's ankles to the end of the bed.
"Do not try to get loose. You will only hurt yourself...and annoy me. You do not want to do either of those things. I will be back." Sascha understood the threat and tried to relax as his footsteps receded across the room.