She was tired...so very tired.

Raking a hand through her hair, Ms Parker sighed softly and afforded herself a quick glance in the direction of her watch – midnight.

She had sensed the Centre growing steadily quiet aground her for some time, but the prospect of a dark, empty home, full with memories of times gone past, made her stay put in her office, under the disguise of a heavy workload.

Sighing again, she silently berated herself for displaying an outward sign of weakness. Having basically ‘grown-up’ in the Centre, she was all too aware that the walls around her had hidden ears and eyes that were just waiting for her to make a wrong move, or at the best to show a sign that will belay her reputation as the ice-queen.

Stretching out a hand she reached for a file at the top of a pile of work in her inbox. She had barely opened the file when her cell started ringing. In one swift movement she had removed the phone from its pocket and flipped it open.

“What?” she asked in a subdued voice, lacking the strength to speak in her normal forceful way.

After a few seconds of listening to whoever was on the other side of the line, a small smile started tucking at the corner of her lips, a stark contrast to the hint of irritation that was audible in her voice when she responded. “I’m still at work.”

She remained quiet for a few seconds, before saying, “I’m fully aware of what time it is, which by the way is the same time you phone me yesterday, the day before, last week-“

The person on the other side interrupted her sentence and she allowed him to speak for a while, before saying, “Sydney...please. I know you mean well, but I’m a grown woman and more than capable of taking care of myself.”

She listened for a little while and then stated, “Fine. If it’ll make you happy I promise to leave within the next few minutes.”

Without waiting for another word she closed her phone and tucked it away. Sinking back into her chair, she sat in complete silence, staring into the distance. She allowed herself this indulgence for a moment, before slowly standing up and gathering her things together. She was just about to leave when her office phone started ringing. Frowning, confused as to who might be trying to reach at such a godforsaken time, especially considering the fact that her direct office number was known to mostly Centre employees, all who had already left for home, she picked up the handset and barked, “What!”

She could hear some someone breathing deeply on the other side, but no words were forthcoming.

Narrowing her eyes, feeling her irritation growing steadily by the minute, she assumed she knew the identity of the mystery caller, “Jarod, if this is another of your sick games, torturing hours are between nine and five. Please phone again tomorrow.”

The response was more breathing followed by a laughter that sounded like it had been pre-recorded.

Eyes widened in shock, she slammed the phone down and stared at it for a few seconds in slight horror, heart beating at an alarming pace. She had no idea what to think or feel at that moment, but one thing was for sure – it was definitely not one of Jarod’s typical late night calls. For a moment she considered phoning someone, anyone, for assistance. Maybe Sydney to come and pick her up or at the very least for one of the Centre security guards to accompany her to her car, but at the last moment, just as her fingertips were caressing her phone, she took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. It definitely would not do to have her reputation at the Centre damaged, to let people think she is anything less that tough as nails. Also if she dared to phone Sydney, she is never going to hear the end of it, most probably get a mouthful of psychological mumble-jumble and for that she had neither the time nor the strength.

Shaking her head, trying to convince herself that it might have been a wrong number or prank call, but at the same time not quite believing it, she hurriedly gathered the last of her stuff together and made her way out of her office, switching off the lights just before she closed the door.

A few minutes later she was walking at a rushed pace across the big entrance hallway of the Centre, her only company the sound of her high heels making clicking noises against the bright tiles of the floor. She was about halfway to the lifts that would take her to the belowground parking garage, when something caught her attention.

No security guards.

No sweepers.

Not a single person in sight.

Normally it did not matter what time of the night it was, there was always some Executive, sweeper or Centre security guards around, but at that moment she could not see or sense a living soul.

Turning a full 360 degrees, she frowned, not sure what to make of the strange situation, but being intimate aware of the ever present evil lurking, waiting, in the shadows of the place she call work, she pulled out her gun, before proceeding onwards.

Upon reaching the lift doors, she pressed the button to call the lift to her floor, the whole time keeping a wary eye on her surrounding area. It was as the lift doors opened, after what seemed like an eternity, that she detected a movement out of the corer of her eyes. Spinning around, she pointed her gun in the perceived direction.

Nothing.

“Hello? Who’s there?” She shouted out in a slight nervous voice. When she got only got the sad song of a cricket as a reply, she took a deep breath, lowered her gun and silently berated herself for her overactive imagination.

Forcing herself to turn around, with her back facing the unknown world behind her, she took a step forward to enter the lift, but for some unknown reason her eyes decided at that moment to connect with a bullet hole in one of the lift walls, the remains of her mother’s so-called suicide many years ago. For a few seconds she stared at it intensely, a variety of emotions playing across her face. She had no idea why the bullet hole was having such an effect on her all of a sudden, especially considering the fact that ever since she found out the truth, that her mother had been killed instead of committing suicide, she had accepted the mark in the lift for exactly what it was – an attempt by certain dark Powers at the Centre to remind her or her own mortality. The result was that, whether out of defiance or plain refusal to relent to the demons that surrounded her every day, from that time onwards she had refused to acknowledge the bullet hole in any noticeable way.

Until that night.

Shivering, feeling cold fingers playing down her spine, she stepped back out of the lift and whispered, “I don’t think so.”

Turning around she made her way to the closest emergency exit that would allow her to take the stairs to the parking garage. At the closed door she paused, feeling a deep sense of foreboding tucking at the corners of her heart. With a hand, still clutching her gun, resting against the hard surface of the door, she closed her eyes for a second as barely audible whispers started invading her mind – her inner sense.

“What?” she murmured, but just as soon as the whispers started they disappeared.

“Right...either I’m overtired or just busy going stark crazy mad,” she stated, slightly disgusted with her own strange behavior that evening and without any further hesitation she opened the door and started walking, more like rushing, down the staircase.

It took her a few minutes, barely a mark in the page of times, to reach the parking garage.

It was as she pushed against the door to allow her entrance that the first evidence of something dark and sinister came to light.

Something heavy was leaning on the other side against the door.

Laying her bag and gun safely against one of the wall, it took all her strength to force the door open.

The first thing she noticed was that the whole place was blanketed in semi-darkness. Only a few neon lights appeared to be working and even those were going on and off at irregular intervals.

The next thing she noticed happened almost immediately afterwards as she nearly stumbled over the body of a man blocking the doorway.

From his attire it was obvious he was a sweeper – although his identity was unknown to her.

Keeping a wary eye on the darkened area directly in front of her, she bent down to reach for her gun, before stretching out two fingers to feel for any sign of life against the man’s neck.

Nothing.

Not feeling the need to investigate how the man had died, especially since it was apparent that he had most probably been murdered, she picked up her bag and slowly started making her way to her vehicle. If only she could reach it in time.

She was within a hand’s width from her car when she heard a noise coming from somewhere behind her. Swirling around, her weapon raised, she held her breath while trying to determine what had caused the sound. It was at that moment that a masked man, without any warning, jumped out of the shadows directly behind her. With one swift dive movement he threw her against the ground, causing her to land painfully on her side. While she was still trying to recover from the surprised attack he pressed an ominous looking cloth over her mouth. At the same time he pushed with his free arm down hard on her body to prevent her from trashing around.

Years of training enabled her to overcome her initial shock and without thinking twice she lashed out with her free hand to try and slap her attacker’s hand away. When it did not appear as if he was relenting she scratched with her long nails across the only bare flesh, his wrist, resulting in deep dark gashes to appear on his skin and some minor blood flowing.

It caused the man to yelp softly in pain and when she felt his hold on her relinquishing slightly she rolled completely onto her stomach and tried to jump to her feet but the world suddenly started spinning around her.

Unable to keep upright she collapsed back to the ground. At the back of her mind she registered that whatever was on the cloth that her attacker had forced over her mouth was strong and was busy taking an effect on her. Also she realized that unless she did something immediately she was going to loose consciousness pretty soon and as such gave complete control over to the attacker.

Despite the fact that she was on the loosing end of a battle she refused to give up. Biting on her bottom lip hard, hoping that the pain would give her the edge to remain awake, she started crawling in the direction of where her gun had landed at the beginning of the attack.

Her attacker, realizing her plan, chuckled softly and leaped forward. Just as he was about to wrap his hands around her ankles in an attempt to drag her towards him she suddenly strike out with her leg to kick him full force in the chest, causing him to stumble backwards a few steps.

Without waiting to see if he was going to recover she continued with her crawl toward the gun, praying that she would have enough time to reach the safety of her weapon.

Just as her fingertips started caressing the cold steel of her weapon the attacker finally overpowered her and rolled her over onto her back. Sitting down on her legs he pushed her arms above her head with one hand, to prevent her from attempting another escape, and started fumbling in his jacket’s pocket with his other hand.

Feeling an intense anger burning in her soul at her lack of strength and resulting helplessness she resorted to her only remaining option. “Who the hell are you! What do you want from me!“ she spat at him, furor spread across her face but inwardly she could feel fear forming in her heart.

Her aggressor chuckled again and leaned forward to place his mouth against her ear, “You know you are really beautiful when you are angry.”

Her eyes immediately widened in shock and with her last ouch of remaining strength she was able to free an arm. Reaching out a hand she snatched at the mask covering his face and removed it.

The last thing that she saw before the pin-prick of a needle against her arm caused her to loose her consciousness altogether, was the face of a mad man which would get to haunt her nightmares for many years to come.

That same evening
Somewhere in Washington...


“Oh Jarod, you sure know how to make a girl feel special,” the blond-haired woman purred seductively as they entered a small, yet very cozy and intimate, dining room.

This particular room could be found at the back of a very plush Italian Restaurant somewhere in the heart of Washington DC and was normally only available to VIP’s and their guests – something which Jarod Trucker as a world renowned plastic surgeon just happened to be.

“Only the best for the woman in my life,” Jarod replied with a huge smile plastered across his face, only the slight twitch of a facial muscle hinted at his true emotions. Pulling out a chair for the woman, he waited until she sat down in the careful, feminine manner typical to high-class socialites, before walking around the table and taking a seat too.

“So...Jarod, dear...” the woman begun in her sugarcoated voice. Stretching out a hand she wrapped it around his, before continuing, “You promised me that tonight was going to be a night I’ll never forget. You started off just fine with this beautiful little place, but I assume there’s going to be more?”

“I thought you’ll never ask,” Jarod stated mysteriously and with his free hand he proceeded to ring a little golden bell that was close by.

Immediately a little Asian girl of around nine years old entered the room, carrying a dish, covered with a white cloth, between both hands. Standing up, Jarod went to kneel in front of the girl and with a kind word of thanks in her mother tongue he took the dish from her and walked back to the table.

“Okay...I give up,” the woman said during the exchange between her companion and the little girl. As she spoke, her eyes, with a barely detectable hint of concern playing behind them, darted from one person to another. As Jarod walked back towards her, she waited until the little girl retreated out of the room, before adding, “You sure are one strange person, Jarod. If it wasn’t for the fact that you have captured my heart, I wouldn’t have afforded you a second glance.”

Jarod did not reply, instead he awarded her comment with a playful grin as he proceeded to put the dish down on the table between them. Leaning over the table, Jarod stared intimately into her eyes, before whispering, “Ready for your surprise my dear?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” the woman tried to reply in the same lighthearted manner by throwing his earlier words back at him, but it was obvious from her slightly nervous demeanor that she was finding it very difficult to succeed.

Grinning even bigger, Jarod made a bit show of removing the cloth from the dish and even went so far as to utter, “violà!”

His response was the loud sound of a chair falling to one side and a woman’s voice crying out, “What’s the meaning of this!?” In one swift movement the woman had managed to jump out of her chair, upbringing forgotten for the moment, and was standing with her back against a wall, chest moving rapidly up and down as she stared in horror at the contents of the dish in front of her.

“What?” Jarod said, pretending ignorance, while eyeing the contents in front of him with interest.

“That...that...” the woman stuttered, pointing a finger in the direction of the table, but was unable to say more.

Reaching out a hand, Jarod scoop up some of the stuff in the dish, a grayish, thick paste, and brought it to his nose. “Interesting smell,” he commented and taking a quick lick at it he added, “Hmm, the taste is very familiar, but I just can’t quite put my finger on it.”

Smiling, a twinkle burning in his eyes, Jarod walked closer to the woman. Reaching out a hand towards her, he said in a soft, yet ominous, tone of voice, “But then...surely you should be able to help me out here?”

Swallowing, eyes darting to the door on the opposite side of the room, the woman tried to speak, stopped and licked a tongue over her bottom lip, before finally saying in a slightly more composed voice, “I don’t what your point is with this sick game, Jarod, but I’m not going to play it.” Rubbing passed Jarod, she rushed to the door and muttered, “I’m out of here...thanks for a not-so-wonderful night.”

Grinning, Jarod did not comment, merely stepped to one side to allow her to pass him without any obstruction.

As she reached the door she afforded Jarod once last hurried glance over her shoulder, before reaching out a hand to try and open the door.

Locked.

“No,” the woman uttered and tried again to open the door.

Still locked.

Throwing all self-control overboard the woman started pulling and pushing against the door with all her might, muffled words the only sound, beside the loud rattle of a door straining against its hinges.

“What? No goodbye kiss...my dear?” Jarod finally decided to say something as he walked at a leisure pace toward the woman, one hand raised slightly to prevent the paste from falling to the ground.

Finally registering that there was no way that she would be able to force the door open, the woman spun around and with her back against the door she stared at Jarod with emotions varying between fear, confusion and loathing playing across her face.

“Let me out,” she said after a few seconds.

“Why?” Jarod replied.

“Please, Jarod...I beg you.”

“Uh...no can do.”

Crossing the distance between them, until he was able to stand directly in front of her, Jarod leaned with an elbow against the door, while moving his paste-covered hand up and down in front of the woman’s eyes. After a few moments he remarked casually, “Why the haste?”

“I...I just want to go...please...let me go and-,” the woman begged softly, tears were streaming down her face.

Pretending like he had not heard her reply, Jarod interrupted, “And here I was thinking that you and I may get to enjoy some of these-” taking a lick from the paste again, he continued, “wonderful, home-grown... drugs.” As he said the last word his eyes darted up to meet hers squarely.

“I...I don’t know what you’re talking about,” came the soft reply, fear entwined with every single word.

“What...don’t you understand,” Jarod responded and suddenly it appeared as if a dark cloud descended on him. “The fact that it wasn’t enough for you and your people to sell drugs to innocent children...or the fact that you had to make sure it was as poisonous as can be?”

“Jarod...please you don’t understand,” the woman cried out.

“Oh...and here I thought you didn’t know what I was talking about.”

“It...it’s not the way you think...I...I had no choice. They made me do it!”

Looking at his hand and then at the woman in disgust, Jarod brought his hand up and started smearing the paste in one swift movement across her face, while roaring out, “But yet the thought of innocent children eventually dying in pure agony, while their parents looked on in despair couldn’t make you seek help from the police-“

Twisting her head from side to side, trying to avoid the paste from entering her mouth and nostrils, a look of pure horror evident on her face, the woman tried to plead for mercy once more, “Please don’t! I didn’t mean to. I had no choice. Please Jarod, you have to believe me!”

“But yet...you had no sympathy for the children that died before their time due to your own actions!” Taking some of the paste, mixed with tears that were running down one cheek, Jarod forced it into her mouth, before adding, his eyes burning with anger, “You sold these drugs to the children, knowing you were sentencing them to death.” Forcing the paste deeper into her mouth, he shouted into her face, “Didn’t you! Didn’t you! Didn’t you!”

“Yes! Yes! Oh god, yes!” the woman cried out and when Jarod took a step backwards, she collapsed in a pathetic bundle to the ground. “I did it! I admit it. I was responsible for every single death. Just get me to a hospital; I don’t want to die before my time. I promise to tell you everything you need to know.”

Nodding his head, Jarod took a few steps back and appeared to be talking to himself when he said, “Did you get that?”

His reply was one of the side walls of the room lifting up to reveal a camera crew, a couple of men in police uniforms and a few others in civilian clothes.

One of the men dressed in civilian clothes walked up to Jarod and reached out a hand, before saying, “Nicely done, Detective. We managed to get every last word on record and with her testimony,” he pointed a finger in the direction of the woman, before continuing, “we will once and for all manage to break the grip of the Chiuang family on DC’s own version of China Town.”

“Y-you are a detective? B-but I thought you were a plastic surgeon?” the woman asked from where she was being cuffed and read her rights by a policeman, her whole stance being of a person utterly defeated.

Smiling, Jarod replied, “Not today.”

“B-but your office, your surgery...the famous people that visited you while I was there?” she tried to object to what her mind refused to believe.

Walking closer to her, Jarod grinned and stated, “All just part of the pretend.” Then, putting a finger in his mouth, pure delight evident on his face, Jarod added, “Oh and by the way...white chocolate cake mixture...delicious.”

His only response was wide, shocked and unbelieving eyes.

For a few moments Jarod stared after the retreating backs of the woman and the policeman, before turning his attention back his fellow detective next to him, “I’m sorry...you were saying?”

“I was just asking where you plan to go now?” Seeing a strange look passing over Jarod’s face, the Detective quickly explained, “I mean with the successful completion of this operation, you can have any assignment you want.”

“Don’t have anything specific on my horizon yet,’ Jarod stated, “although I have some unfinished business in Delaware to take care off.”

Without waiting for a reply, Jarod walked pass the Detective in the direction of the rest of the assembled group. As he continued onwards, only pausing to accept a few sincere congratulations, he could not help but looking around him, wondering why there was no sign of Ms Parker, Broots, Sydney and the sweepers that were normally always on cue, right at the end of a pretend.


xxx


Author’s Note:

Okay...sorry about this chapter, but for some strange, illogical reason I felt I had to add this chapter...to state where Jarod was during Ms Parker’s abduction.

Hope it was at least remotely interesting???

Next chapter...more Centre, I promise.

The next morning


‘I’m getting way too old,’ Sydney thought in slight disgust as he struggled to get out of his car. Closing the car door behind him, he followed his daily ritual by turning around to stare at the parking space where he fully expected Ms Parker’s car to be parked.

His eyes widened when he could only see an empty space against a dark, quiet wall. Frowning, he lifted his wrist to check the time on his watch – 8:00 am. Sydney knew he had arrived late at work that day, much later than the norm for Centre employees, therefore the fact that Ms Parker of all people have not shown up yet, caused him to be concerned. Unclipping his cell from his belt he opened it and phoned her number, after only seven rings it went over to her automatic voice mail.

For a few moments he listened attentively to the machine voice – almost like he still expected her to answer and maybe even scowl at him for being so concerned about her wellbeing – before finally pressing the disconnect button. Feeling a sense of foreboding tucking at the corners of his heart, he tried her home number, but got the same response. For a moment he appeared deep in thought and then tried phoning another number. This time it took only two rings before the phone was picked up on the other side.

“Hello...Broots,” an absentminded voice answered on the other side.

“Broots, this is Sydney,” he replied back.

“Oh...hi Sydney. Are you also not coming into work today?” the younger man asked, in the background the sound of typing could be heard.

“I’m still in the parking lot, Broots. I was going to ask whether you’ve heard anything from Ms Parker, but I gather from your previous statement that you had?” While talking, Sydney started walking slowly to the lifts that would take him to the sublevel where his office and labs was situated.

“Uh...not quiet, you see M-mr Lyle came around just a few minutes ago to state that Ms Parker had been summoned by the chairman of one of our main branches in Europe to advise on possible leads they may have regarding Jarod-“

Stopping in mid-sentence, typing ceasing in the background too, Broots suddenly took a deep breath and said, “Oh my gosh! Now that I think about it...she would have told us personally if she was going somewhere. Sydney, what if...” The rest of the sentence trailed off into nothingness, almost like he was afraid of giving words to the sudden fear that had invaded his mind.

“Let’s not assume anything, until we know more.” Without waiting for any further response, Sydney disconnected the phone on his side, the grim expression on his face belaying the words he had just spoken to his young companion.

After what appeared like an eternity, the lifts finally arrived on his floor. Entering the lift, he pressed the button that would take him to his office, but just as the lift started he reached out and pressed the number that would take him to the ground floor of the Centre instead.

Barely a few minutes later, the door opened to allow him access to the main floor of the Centre, also the floor where all the executive offices were situated. With slow, yet purposeful strides, he crossed the distance that would take him to one specific office, only stopping once to acknowledge the greeting of a colleague.

It was as he reached the closed double doors that the sound of familiar voices came within earshot. Stopping, he reached out a hand to knock, but at the last moment he decided against it and instead allowed his hand to fall against his side. Checking quickly around him to make sure he was not being watched, Sydney took a small step closer, before bending down and pretending to be busy with an imaginary dirt smudge on his shoes. At the same time he was straining his hearing in an attempt to pick up what was being said on the other side.

“...you are sure...you were not seen?” a rasping voice was heard asking between the taking of deep breaths. It was a condition that Sydney knew had begun to worsen again over the past couple of years.

“I told you I would take care of it and I had. A word of advise though...you would do good to remember who you are talking to.” The response came from a much younger voice than the first one.

“I don’t think...I need to remind you...as to what is...at stake here. Results are expected from us...this time. Therefore now is not the time...for personal agendas or...views.”

“And if I remember correctly it is your neck that they would come for first this time...not mine.”

Before the older man could respond, a phone suddenly started ringing in the background and the same younger voice from before could be heard answering, “Yes, what is it?”

A couple of seconds later the same voice replied in a harsh tone, “So take care of it. That’s what you are being paid for.” Upon the uttering of the last word the loud sound of a phone being slammed down was heard.

“Is there...a problem?” the older man asked.

“Nothing which can’t be handled by my men, now if you excused me I have some unfinished business to attend to-”

Realizing that the voices were coming closer, Sydney straightened himself and had just enough time to jump to one side and pretend like he had just arrived before the double doors opened up on him to reveal the occupants of the room, two men going by the names of Mr Raines and Mr Lyle.

“What are you...doing here, Sydney?” Raines inquired through narrowed eyes, his one hand dragging an oxygen tank behind him.

Folding his hands in front of him, Sydney replied with a solemn face, “I came to inquire as to the whereabouts of Ms Parker.”

Moving his gaze from Raines to Sydney and back Lyle said with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “I thought your friend; Broots would have told you the...interesting news by now.”

“He informed me that your sister had been called away to Europe...what I can’t understand is why neither Broots nor myself had been acknowledged in this latest development regarding Jarod.”

Taking a menacing step forward, Raines stated threateningly, “The Centre...doesn’t need to explain...itself to you or anybody...else for-”

Putting a hand on the older man’s arm, Lyle interrupted. “What my...uh...father was trying to say is that the latest facts regarding our ever evasive pretender’s whereabouts just happened to fell into our laps at the last moment and afraid of wasting any more precious time my sister decided to leave immediately.”

It was as Lyle put his hand on Raines’ arm and started talking that the sleeve of his jacket moved up a bit. Sydney was unable to ignore the barely discernable, but still very much noticeable, scratch marks on the younger man’s wrist. Frowning, Sydney turned his gaze upwards and could see something similar on his one cheek. Sydney was just about to remark on them when he suddenly noticed a faint powdery outline bordering each of the injuries and to his surprise he realized that make-up, clearly expertly applied, had been used to cover the full extent of the injuries.

“What are you starring at?” Lyle suddenly snapped, clearly having felt how the older man had been scrutinizing him.

Straightening himself, Sydney stared at him for a couple of seconds before saying, “Nothing.”

“It didn’t look like nothing when you had been eyeing me like that just now.” Lyle growled angrily.

Lifting his chin, Sydney appeared deep in thought for a little while before finally replying, “Just couldn’t help but notice the injuries you obtained. You must have gotten them…where?”

Reaching out a hand to touch the side of his cheek and wrist, Lyle pretended to be confused before answering, “Oh…these. Totally forgot about them.”
When Sydney did not say anything more a smile slowly started forming across Lyle’s lips again. “I’m really touched by your concern for my wellbeing Syd, but you really don’t need to worry too much about my injuries. Got them during a fierce fight with a wild cat I just happened to acquire yesterday, but I can promise you that I won the fight and managed to subdue the angry feline.”

Giving Raines a meaningful nod, Lyle walked passed the two men. As he reached the small flight of stairs that would take him to the main floor he suddenly stopped. Turning his head to look over a shoulder he called out, “Hopefully the creature won’t take too long to learn who’s in charge at the end of the day.”


xxx


Light...darkness...

Darkness...light...

She was struggling to stay conscious, could feel the clutches of darkness tearing at her, begging her to return to the safety of its embrace.

Forcing her eyes to open a bit wider, she could see bright ceiling lights flashing past her. For a moment her surrounding environment did not make sense, but then, almost simultaneously, the feeling of something hard against her back and the sound of wheels rolling across tiles reveal itself to her.

‘I’m being taken somewhere,’ she thought in shock and surprise.

Her next thought was, ‘Where am I being taken?’ but no matter how she strained her mind she could not remember a thing of what had happened to her recently, what had caused her to be in this situation. After a few minutes she gave up trying since it was hard enough just to cling to the memories of who and what she was supposed to be.

“I think she’s busy waking up,” a deep voice was heard asking worryingly from somewhere above and to her side.

“Don’t worry about it, mate. The stuff she’s been given will keep her in la-la land for a long time to come,” another, softer, voice answered from the opposite side. After a few moments the same voice said, “She sure is a beauty. I wonder what they are planning to do with her?”

‘It’s not for us to question Centre business,” the deep voice replied.

As the two men continued talking, she closed her eyes and then opened it again in order to get them to acknowledge her. She even tried to say something, but to her horror she realized she was unable to. Next she tried to move her body, but that was equally unresponsive.

Terrified of what was happening to her, of the unknown future, she could feel her heart beat increasing to a fevered pace and due to a complete feeling of hopelessness a faint mistiness started covering her eyes. Her last thought before darkness overwhelmed her again was of a tall, dark man with the kindest eyes. She struggled to put a name to his face, but somehow she knew he was important to her and hope flamed up that he would managed to find a way to come and rescue her from this nightmare.