Disclaimer: The Unit and its characters belong to CBS and a bunch of other people that have a heck of a lot more money that I do. No infringement intended. I'm just invited a few over to play in my sandbox.
The lure of the one eyed snake
Summary: What red-blooded male can resist a hot girl in a nurses uniform?
He awoke to a veil of darkness, his throbbing head numbing his senses. As he blinked to clear his vision, his eyelashes brushed the fabric covering his eyes. In a knee jerk reaction, he moved his right arm to touch his head and was blinded by a searing pain radiating from his wrist to his elbow. He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced as the burning sensation flooded his body. He focused on his right arm and struggled to remain awake as he began to white out from the pain. This is no time to be passing out, he chided himself sharply as he swallowed hard and let a gasp of air escape his lips.
My arm's broken, he thought as he forced his body to relax. There's something cold on my arm. Hard and cool, like a metal table. While he concentrated on the position of his limb, he became aware of the oxygen tubing resting just under his nose. I'm in a hospital, he thought as he took steady breaths to ease the pain. I'm in a hospital, he repeated feeling his body relax.
The comforting thought of a hospital room quickly dissipated when he realized a rope restrained him where he lay. The thin, twine like binding dug into his skin and tethered his left arm above his head. His right arm, while resting on the cool metal table, was secured with the same material. His feet were tied to a point out of the scope of his imagination. He tried to move his feet and arms to test the binding strength. I'm not in a hospital…where the frick am I? He frantically began to kick and pull at the restraints on his feet and left wrist. Although the material reminded him of twine, it was much stronger and resilient. Fear washed over him as he gritted his teeth and contemplated his situation.
Get a hold of yourself! he sternly scolded as panic settled in. Where the frick am I? And what the frick's wrong with my eyes? Why the frick are they covered? I can see, I think, he rambled silently. A fever boiled in his blood and sweat dampened his brow. The rapid questions flooded his head, triggering a severe headache. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach and turned his head to vomit. As the excretion pooled by his shoulder, he coughed forcefully to clear his throat and felt the room spin slowly out of control. Oh shit, he thought as he realized the consequences of his melt down. Darkness clouded his vision again as he drifted into unconsciousness.
00-00
A spasm in his leg rattled him from his sleep in what seemed like mere minutes later. It was clear, however, that more time had passed. Many thoughts about his predicament filtered through his mind and most sent shivers down his spine. His head was swimming on the verge of unconsciousness, but he wasn't so out of it to miss the clues. Things were different now, very different.
The first clue was the heaviness he felt on his right arm. When he tried to move it, the clunk of plaster on metal told him that someone had put some type of cast on it. The same person had cleaned the vomit from his shoulder and the bed. And stuck that tube up my dick, he thought, feeling the plastic tubing against his thigh and tape pulling at the hair on his leg. The other thing that stared him blankly in the face was the most disturbing of all....
I'm naked, he realized staring blindly into the material that covered his eyes. Confusion began to set in again as he tried to understand why someone with the decency to care for his injury and physical needs would keep him confined to the bed. Why? He questioned, rustling around under the sheet that covered him. As the air from the room cooled his warm skin, he realized his vulnerability to his captors. He was naked, blind, and restrained with no way to protect himself.
Where am I? he thought as he tuned in his senses. A bed, yes. Perhaps a hotel? No the room was too quiet, no outside sounds. A house or apartment. A fresh fragrance filled the air. Clean, he noted, turning his head into the pillow to catch a whiff. Freshly washed, definitely not a shack motel. He reached the fingers of his left hand out to the edge of the mattress and then back to wall behind him. I got a little give, he surmised moving his body around to understand his position. No footboard, so my feet are tied to the frame? He lifted his foot up and pulled at the rope. One is under, the other is straight out, he tried to pull his knee to his chest and realized the rope had some slack in it. Not anchored very well, he surmised as he relaxed his leg on the mattress. "It's quiet," he whispered to himself.
He ran his tongue over his dry lips and chuckled at the irony of his situation. Whoever is so worried about me escaping from this room sure doesn't give a crap if I start screaming my head off, he thought as he mused over the lack of a gag on his face. He sighed when he thought about the reality of his plight. Or they're holding me in the middle of nowhere, so no one would hear it if I started yelling. Where am I anyway? he thought trying to remember the events that brought him to this place.
Surveillance. The team had been in that crappy apartment all night watching for the target. The intel was shaky at best. Everyone had been on edge and tempers were flaring at every little thing. Boss had told him to take a walk to cool off. Be back in an hour, he warned. So why I thought going into that bar was a good idea … I'll never know. The women were hot and needy, he thought remembering the surreal sight of the lights, music, and people. He had ordered a drink and a cute red head had approached him from the side. Never trust a red head, he reminded himself as he recalled how she slid up next to him, touching him. No didn't quite seem to be in her vocabulary. He didn't need to be a rocket scientist to understand her message. Things got a little fuzzy once his drink arrived. She must have laced it with something and then brought me here, he concluded. She couldn't have been working alone. She was a little thing, obviously I was fighting, otherwise how did my arm get broke?
He sighed and closed his eyes letting the story play out in his mind. A struggle like the thousands he had been in since his first day in the unit. He was strong, yet now captured. Drugged, it's the only way. I was due back in an hour. The boss would be looking for me. I need to find a way to get loose and get out of here, he thought as he heard movement in the room. I'm not alone. He lay still as the person approached the bed and felt the mattress dip as a basin of water was set on it. The sheet was pulled away and hands brushed against his skin. He bit his lip to stifle a shudder that rattled through his body. He listened intently as the person placed a cloth or sponge in the water and wrung it out. Oh shit, he cursed when the cool cloth touched his skin.
The hand touching his body was gentle and warm. The sensation was frightening and oddly exciting at the same time. He struggled to keep his composure and his thoughts in check. Yet the stillness of the room, the even breathing of the person next to him and the fresh smell in the air were making it difficult. He let his muscles relax against the mattress; his mind became a woozy jumble of random meaningless thoughts, a mission, a basketball game, another time, a familiar woman in his bed. The clock stopped ticking as reality blended with his memory. The pressure on his leg caused a reaction he couldn't control. While he knew he should feel something negative about it, in this moment of reality his body was swept away into a warm bliss. Before he could do anything to counter act his behavior, he felt sleep tugging him into his dreams.
00-00
Out of habit, he opened his eyes when he awoke, only to find darkness. He took a deep breath and concentrated on his senses to define his surroundings. Nothing about this place he was in seemed right to him. He was a soldier and yet a victim on this bed brought here by unknown forces, or woman half his size. Trained to be a strategist in his day-to-day operations, yet somehow outwitted and made defenseless.
Sponge bath. The words taunted his memory. Did someone give me a sponge bath? He closed his eyes and winced as the memory flooded thoughts. I think it was a little more than your run of the mill sponge bath, he informed himself ruefully. Crap! He cursed as he recalled the warm sensations that he embraced several hours ago. His body had failed his training and resolve. That stuff doesn't … couldn't happen to me, he tried to reason unconvincingly. I don't think I want to stick around for a second dose. He concentrated on the stillness of the room, hearing only his heart beating loudly in his ear. When he was sure there was no other movement in the room or in the vicinity, he began to move his limbs to loosen the ropes detaining him.
The slight tugging on the ropes lead to a surprising discovery, his right arm was not tied to the table as it had been earlier. He stretched his fingers to check for dexterity and when he was sure he could move his hand with tolerable pain, he pulled his arm toward his face, pushing the blindfold from his eyes.
He squinted in the dim light of the room. As his eyes began to adjust, he scanned his surroundings quickly. The room matched the smell, appointed like a luxury hotel room. The four-poster bed and matching dresser were the largest items in the room. A small chair sat near a window opposite the bed. He pushed up on his elbow and focused straight ahead. Street lights and trees. It's still dark, maybe just a few hours have passed. No traffic, a side street or residential, his mind raced as he planned his escape out of this prison. He laid back and looked around the bed, spying medical equipment on both sides. He was laying on the right side of the mattress; tanks that resembled oxygen tanks were poised along the wall next to the metal table, along with a metal IV stand. He pulled the oxygen tubing from his face and trailed the IV tubing to his arm, ripping the needle out at its insertion point.
"Agh," he moaned as he slowly rolled to his left and put pressure on his arm to stop the bleeding. He peered over the side and noticed his clothes folded on the top of the dresser. He inspected the rope tied to his wrist and followed the line to find where it was connected. He lay back against the pillow and looked toward the right to find something to cut the bindings.
"Give me break," he muttered when he discovered a small pocketknife on the table to the right. He stretched his fingers to snag it and flipped it in his hand once he had a hold of it securely. The rope became his target and he quickly went to work, sawing through the bindings of his prison. He nicked himself in the process and cursed under his breath as he felt the blood begin to pool in the wounds.
After a minute, his left arm was free, and he pushed himself into a sitting position to begin to work on his feet. The first leg was easy; the second was far from a piece of cake. He scooted down the bed and had to lean on his right arm as he sliced into the rope fibers. He gritted his teeth as throbbing pain radiated from his right elbow into his shoulder, but he couldn't think about that right now. Releasing the binding rope put him one-step closer to freedom.
As soon as he was free, he crawled off the bed. He looked down at the tubing that ran from his penis to the urine collection pod. He shrugged his shoulders and ripped the tube from his dick in one quick movement. He clenched his jaw and groaned as the pain cut through him like a knife. It practically dropped him to his knees, but somehow he managed to remain standing. He stumbled toward the dresser and grabbed his jeans. Leaning against the wall, he struggled to pull them on, still light-headed from whatever medication was being pumped into his veins and the burning sensation of his dick.
Can't think about that now, he reminded himself as he yanked his shirt over his head. He scanned the room, taking inventory of potential weapons. His eyes settled on the oxygen tanks next to the bed. He stared at the tanks and tilted his head. Walking around the bed to get closer to them, he read the writing on one of the tanks aloud.
"Nitrous Oxide," he mumbled as he tilted the tank back. "No wonder I felt woozy." He shrugged his shoulders and stepped to the end of the bed, closer to the door. He put his hand against the wall and hesitated a moment as another wave of nausea came over him. He breathed slowly in through his nose and out of his mouth several time as the feeling subsided.
He stood there for several minutes until he heard a voice from the other side of the door. He looked behind him to the mattress and grabbed the knife. He stepped behind the door and waited. The seconds clicked off like hours in his mind. The voice was louder now, just outside the door in a conversation with another. One was clearly a male, the other … more distant... was a higher pitch, perhaps a female.
He took a breath to calm his nerves just as the door popped open. A male entered the room and stopped dead in his tracks just inside the door. The man was shorter in stature and stocky. I can take him he thought as he lunged forward at the man. He wrestled with his captor, taking a blow or two, slashing at the man's skin with the knife. He grabbed a fistful of hair and wrapped his arms around his neck, snapping it before the man could make another move. He dropped the guy to the floor and leaned against the wall to steady himself again. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he darted from the room and stumbled his way down the hallway, bouncing off the walls as he went.
He only made it as far as the corner when he came face to face with a woman. Not just any woman, mind you. The woman of his dreams, scantily dressed in a pink negligee and high-heeled shoes. Spiked and fuzzy. Wow! He gulped as she walked toward him slowly, deliberately strutting her stuff. She batted her eyes at him seductively. She walked toward him with confidence. God is she hot, he thought as he warmed to her smiling face. Okay, maybe this was all a dream and I'm really at home, just coming out of the bathroom. Hmmm, she's closer, he thought as their bodies made contact.
"Kim?" he muttered as she wrapped her arms around his back and nuzzled her nose into the crook his neck. He felt the warmth of her breath on his skin, her fingernails rake over his skin.
"Ow!" he yelped as a sharp prick on his bicep pulled him out of his thoughts and as his legs began to buckle and the light began to dim, he cursed himself for his stupidity. There ya go again, thinking with the one eyed snake again.
TBC