One day I put the TV on and a film was just starting and it was Taken and I loved the shit out of it so I put it together with my favourite thing and here we are. Taken. Brittana style.
Taken was originally written by Luc Besson and Robert Mark Kamen, and thanks to them for such a brilliant film.
Warning. This fic is not my normal comedy fic. It will contain a lot of violence and upsetting scenes which upset me just by writing the damn things. Seriously, it will get upsetting. Basically do not fuck with my favourite characters.
Taken
Part 1
Santana squinted at the hand of cards she'd been dealt and shuffled them around to her liking. She whistled when she saw Puck place his wager on the table. "Twenty bucks, can you afford to lose that much?"
"Twenty bucks and when you lose you have to tell us how much progress you've made with the missus," he retorted.
"Puck!" Quinn warned. "We're working."
"Oh c'mon," Puck appeared almost sympathetic. "I just want to know how it's going."
"It's not going, so just shut up," Santana snapped at him. "Fifty bucks and you shut up for the rest of the night."
"Done!" Quinn said as she slammed her cards down and wiped them all out.
Luckily for Puck, Santana's phone rang at that moment distracting her but she made sure to slap the back of his head as she left the room to take the call.
"You stupid idiot, what did you have to bring her up for?" Quinn asked as she counted her winnings.
"I just ship it, okay?" he whined rubbing his head where Santana had smacked him. "It's not right any more."
"She knows it isn't right. You don't need to rub her nose in it."
Outside in the corridor Santana shoved her finger in her right ear as she tried to drown out the noise of the concert blaring from the nearby stage and focus on her caller.
"Hey, honey," she half shouted into the phone with a smile. "Is everything all right? Good. You recognise this song? Yeah, I'm at her concert. What? No! As if, Sug. I'm not 'at' at the show. Har har. I'm on the security team. Of course I've met her. Who do you think is guarding her?" Santana laughed into her phone. "I'm happy you called. Yeah. Lunch tomorrow? I'll be there."
The noise of the crowd got louder and the music faded away.
"Santana! It's almost finished. We're up," Quinn and Puck exited the break room and donned their security imprinted jackets on their way to the stage. Santana caught the jacket Puck threw at her and shouted down the line. "I said I'll be there. I love you!"
The back door to the April Rhodes Arena opened and a wave of noise washed over the small group of people who exited the building along with flashing lights and a sharp smack of cold night air.
Santana stayed close to her mark, guiding the young singer she was guarding that evening away from the crowd of overzealous fans behind the barred gateway at the backstage door and away from the paparazzi.
"This way, Ms Jones," she said, putting her body in between the girl and a fan who had wormed his way under a crowd control barrier. Puck was on the breakaway fan in a heartbeat, dragging away the screaming curly haired boy. "I love you, Mercedes!"
Mercedes' showbiz smile dipped for a second and she gladly stuck close to her guard as she was led away from the pack of vultures all wanting a piece of her.
"It's okay," Santana said, noticing her charge had tensed up. "We're nearly at the car."
They both turned at the sound of a scream and witnessed the barred gate which separated them from the general arena slam open, crashing with a metallic clang into the breeze-blocked wall beyond. Someone had neglected to lock it. Almost immediately there was a tidal wave of bodies all screaming and shouting in their desire to get closer to their idol, singing sensation, Mercedes Jones.
Security guards rushed to contain the crowds but were overwhelmed by the force of the charging fanatics and a couple got through running full pelt at their idol. Puck and Quinn, never far away from Mercedes, dropped them to the ground in an instant while Santana led a shaking Mercedes away as the neutralised threats groaned on the floor with the pain from sharp elbows to the face.
"Let's go, come on."
Santana had her arm around Mercedes' shoulder as they entered the crew's parking lot. Visually scanning the lot still crowded with crew vehicles, Santana hurriedly led Mercedes towards her car. There was no warning before a large shadow stepped out silently from behind a pillar directly along their path. Santana shoved Mercedes behind her as a blade flicked out from the attacker's fist, the handle concealed in his palm, and moved towards them.
Without pausing Santana charged at him grabbing his wrist which held the knife while simultaneously kneeing him in the solar plexus. She wrenched his arm around behind his back and felt his arm crack forcing him to drop the knife. He screamed in agony before a chop to the throat dropped him to the floor and shifted his attention on trying to breathe rather than his previous intended target.
Santana kicked the knife away towards Quinn who was running towards them having escaped the mad crowd rush which had been contained. "I got him, go!" she yelled pulling out handcuffs and apprehending the assailant.
Santana pulled Mercedes up from where she had huddled herself against the pillar and led her into the car, telling the driver to step on it.
Once they were free from the arena and out onto the open road Santana gave a sigh of relief and turned to check on the singer, who. in the safety and silence of the car had begun to shake.
"Here, drink this." Santana opened the mini bar and pulled out a soda. "It'll take the edge off." Mercedes managed a couple of sips before she broke down. Santana held her as she cried offering reassuring words.
"It's okay, you're safe. It's okay."
Later that night, with the singer finally safely in her hotel room, Santana collected her pay. It was handed to her by Quinn in a small manilla envelope complete with a free smirk.
"You sure you don't want to join us full time?"
Puck slapped her on the shoulder. "Yeah, Rambo. The old team back together. Don't pretend you didn't miss the rush, the adrenaline."
"It's not the old team though, is it?" Santana scowled into her envelope. Quinn and Puck exchanged a look.
"Look," Puck tried. "Sugar will be off to college in a year, then what?"
"Then that gives me a year to do my best."
"Ms Lopez?" One of Mercedes' assistants interrupted them. "She'd like to see you." Santana followed the assistant to the singer's hotel suite.
"How are you feeling?" Santana asked as the singer appeared in a bathrobe and her hair wrapped in a towel.
Mercedes replied with a grimace, she didn't want to talk about it. "Thank you, for everything."
"You're welcome, Ms Jones. I'm just doing my job."
"If there's anything I can ever do for you," Mercedes offered sincerely, handing Santana her card.
"Well..." Mercedes looked up with interest. "Actually... I have a teenage daughter. She wants to be a singer, has done since she was five, and I was wondering, is there any advice you could give her?"
Mercedes considered the woman in front of her for a moment before answering. "It's not all glamorous like everyone thinks it is. It's a lot of hotels and airports."
"It's what she wants," Santana gave a one shouldered shrug.
"Here," Mercedes took the card back off her and scribbled down two phone numbers. "This is the number of my vocal coach, Shelby. If she says she's good enough then she will get her the coaching she needs and the fee is on me. The second number is my manager. He'll make sure she gets a fair shot."
Santana looked astounded at the card. "Thank you. So much."
"No, Ms Lopez. Thank you."
Santana beamed as Sugar skipped through the café to sit with her. As she sat down after a giant bear hug Santana pushed the pre-ordered drink towards Sugar. "One raspberry banana milkshake with extra cherries, just the way you like it."
"Thanks, Mom," Sugar grinned at her and took a sip.
Santana's smile faltered as Sugar's companion came into view. "Britt, um, I didn't know you were coming. Do you want anything?"
"I asked her to come," said Sugar while Brittany shook her head at the offer and sat down.
Santana immediately felt self conscious and wished she'd spent more time getting her hair looking good that morning. Brittany just sat back and let Sugar do her thing.
"So, Mom, guess what?" Sugar started, more excited than usual and then began chattering away without leaving space for Santana to reply. "You know my friend Kitty? Well, her cousins asked her to spend a months vacation with them in Paris. How cool is that?"
Santana stared at her and didn't blink. Where was this headed? "Uh, cool, I guess."
"And she asked if I wanted to go with her."
Ah, that's where this is headed. Santana felt Brittany's eyes on her. "Why do you want to go to Paris?"
"Uh, hello? It's Paris fashion week. And you know I have every copy of French Vogue from since it began in 1920 and almost every Elle since 1945." Sugar took in her mother's bemused demeanour and went for a more learned tack. "And Kitty went to stay with them last summer and when she got back she could practically speak French."
"That's one week. What about the other three and half weeks of your break?"
"You know, art and culture and learning and stuff." Brittany had to look away at the look on Santana's face for fear of laughing as it scrunched up more and more. "Like The Louvre, Picasso museum-"
"I didn't know you were into art," Santana said, confused at this new revelation.
"Are you kidding me? Fashion is art."
Santana looked thoroughly unimpressed and looked to Brittany who just rolled her eyes.
"And you're asking me because you need both parents' permission because you're under eighteen... Sugar... I'm not completely stupid. You would shrivel up and die if you took one step inside a museum."
Sugar winced. "Okay, we are going to fashion week but then we're going to follow Beyonce on tour around Europe, starting in Paris. Mom's booked us into all the best hotels, it's totally safe. Mom, please! I really want to go and they've got this sick apartment overlooking the river-"
"Just you and Kitty..."
"And her cousins."
"Don't make a big deal out of it, Santana." Brittany spoke up finally and pushed a few pieces of paper across the table to her. "Just sign the paper."
Santana stared at the paper well aware of the expectation surrounding her. "I'm not comfortable with this," Santana said eventually, breaking the silence.
"Mom!" Sugar groaned.
"I know the world, Sweetie-"
"Mom, please-" Sugar begged.
"I don't think a seventeen year old should be travelling alone."
"I'm not going to be alone!"
"Two seventeen year olds."
"Kitty is nineteen!"
There was another pause. Santana sighed, Sugar was doing the puppy dog eyes.
"How about if I go along? You wont even know I'm there." Sugar slumped back and huffed into her chair. "I'm very good at being invisible."
"Yes, we already noticed," Brittany glared at her.
Santana looked hurt. Okay that might have been true for most of Sugar's life but she was trying to make up for it now. She turned to Sugar who was pouting, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. Santana looked away and muttered. "I'll think about it."
"Oh, Santana, everyone at this table knows what that means," Brittany said, exasperated as Sugar got more upset by the second.
"Hey Sug, there's something else-" Santana reached into her jacket inside pocket and began to pull out Mercedes Jones' card.
"I don't want anything else," Sugar sobbed and ran out of the café. Santana stared guiltily after her and eyed the form in front of her.
Brittany watched her resignedly. "All you had to do was say yes. I don't get you."
"What?" Santana snapped at her.
"You sacrificed our marriage and made a mess of your life for the service of your country. Can't you stop being so stubborn, this one time, for your own daughter?"
"I would sacrifice anything for her."
"Then what is your problem?"
"I am not comfortable putting our daughter at risk. I'm not about to let my teenage daughter go to a different continent on her own. It's dangerous."
"The whole world is dangerous, Santana. That doesn't mean she shouldn't have to miss out on all the good things in the world because of it. Crossing the street is dangerous. And we're talking about Paris and major European cities, not some middle eastern war zone."
"You know as well as I do what the world is like."
"And so should she, which she never will unless she goes out and experiences it herself." Brittany hesitantly reached over the table as though she were about to take Santana's hand then thought better of it. "Listen, I know you moved here to build a relationship with Sugar but you're not going to do that by smothering her. Let her live or I promise you will lose her, and I don't want that for either of you."
Santana sat back from to maintain some kind of distance from Brittany and scowled fiercely. "Don't use that psychology shit on me."
"You're so goddamn stubborn, Santana," Brittany sighed. "Even when it's ruining your life." She shook her head in exasperation and walked out after her distraught daughter leaving a forlorn looking Santana clutching a creased business card.
Sugar opened the door, her hair was a mess and an unhappy pout marred her features. She raised a daring eyebrow at the caller. She frowned at her mother who was anxiously slapping a rolled up piece of paper in her palm.
"Three conditions."
Sugar's eyes widened and she froze; her mother was notorious for her conditions.
"I want the address and phone number of where you're staying. If you move I want to know where and who you'll be staying with. You call me when you land and every night before you go to sleep from this phone," she held up a brand new mobile. "It's international and my number is programmed in. Sugar," she said warningly.
"Yes?" Sugar stopped jumping up and down.
"You're not focused, come here." Santana rested her forehead on Sugar's to calm the girl down. "Listen, focus. If you don't call me I will be on the next flight to Paris and I will break down the door and demand to know why you didn't call. I'm not kidding, Sugar, I will be on the plane." She kissed Sugar on the forehead. Sugar wrapped her arms around her mother and hugged her tightly.
"I love you, Mom."
"I love you too, baby. There's one last thing. I get to drive you to the airport."
"Okay," she beamed at her mother.
Santana's eyes widened as Sugar screamed for Brittany right next to her ear.
"I'm going to call Kitty!" Sugar ran into the house then back out again and threw herself at her mother crushing her lungs and the permission form. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she yelled, turned and hugged Brittany who was now standing behind her at the door, turned and hugged Santana again and then ran off dialling Kitty and screeching down the phone at her best friend.
"Thank you," Brittany smiled leaning on the door frame.
"Yeah well. What kind of summer would it be if I didn't spend it worried sick about her? Wouldn't want to miss out on all that fun for anything."
"There's Kitty!" Sugar waved to her friend who was in the line for security checks at LAX.
Santana's eyes drifted around the departures lounge as she observed all the travellers. Families, college kids, busy looking people in business attire travelling alone, security guards keeping an eye out for suspicious behaviour. Her eyes landed back on a three college boys, two of whom were shoving each other into a pile of their luggage the third was eyeing up Sugar in her tight jeans and leather jacket.
"I'll be right back," Santana muttered, going to give the boys a piece of her mind but before she could get two steps away Brittany pulled her back.
"Didn't you have some important things you wanted to go through with Sugar?"
"Oh, um, yeah," Santana said, and focused on her daughter. "Hey, wait, is that my jacket?"
"It fits perfectly," Sugar grinned cheekily and wrapped the black leather tighter around herself. Santana let out a hmpf and let it drop.
"Right, listen carefully. Call us when you land. Straight from the airport, no waiting until you get to the apartment. From the airport. Repeat it."
"From the airport."
"Are you absolutely certain that you have everything? Tickets, passport, hotel reservations, insurance documents, credit card, back up credit card, Euros, phone, phone charger, plug adaptor, credit, I spoke to the provider and you're on their international service for the next month. Guide book, phrase book, camera-"
"Mami, jeez. We've been through this every day for the past two weeks. I am ready. I have everything."
"Now, there are certain areas of Paris you should avoid. I've written them down," Santana fumbled in her jacket pocket for a sheet of paper.
Sugar executed a familiar eye-roll and Brittany tried to hide her grin. "Mom, I'm going to be up to my eyeballs in fashion. You don't have to worry."
"That's like telling water not to be wet," Brittany snorted.
Santana glared at both of them. "Just humour me."
Sugar took the proffered paper with a smile. "Thanks, Mom."
Brittany's phone rang interrupting them. Santana caught a glimpse of the caller ID and her nose twitched involuntarily. Sugar tugged her to the side as Brittany answered.
"Mom said your job made you paranoid. I asked her what you did and she said to ask you, but I was afraid I might not like the answer. Are you sure you're not in the Mafia? You can tell me."
"Sugar, I don't know how many times I have to tell you, I do not work for the Mafia, I have never worked for the Mafia." She looked around then spoke quietly. "I worked for the government, I was a preventer. My job made me aware, that's all."
"What did you prevent?"
"My partner and I prevented bad things from happening."
Santana watched over Sugar's shoulder as Brittany wandered over to a security guard tucking her phone into her pocket after the short phone call.
"What happened to your partner?" Sugar asked curiously, never having delved this deeply into her mother's mysterious work before now.
"Oh, you know," Santana gave a wry grin. "She married some idiot, and then left to raise a family. She knew when to quit and didn't look back."
"Do you miss it all? Your job?"
"I missed you more."
Sugar leaned in and hugged her mother tightly. "I'm glad you moved to LA," she murmured into her mom's shoulder.
Brittany joined them with a soft smile and ruffled Sugar's hair fondly much to her daughter's annoyance. While Sugar tried to fix her hair Santana watched out of the corner of her vision with poorly disguised amusement as a small security team came and pounced on the college boys and sniffer dogs stuck their snouts in inappropriate places. She smirked and looked at Brittany who avoided her gaze.
"Remember, Honey, be good and if you can't be good, be good at it."
"Britt!" Santana looked scandalised.
"What?"
"Don't give her ideas! Sugar, don't do anything I wouldn't- no wait. Um, have a great time."
"Don't forget to use protection."
"Britt!"
"What?"
Brittany swallowed the lump in her throat which had suddenly appeared while Santana sniffled pathetically at her side. Sugar's chuckle was suspiciously choked as she hugged her parents tightly. "I love you," she squeaked out.
"Love you too," they both returned and watched as Sugar headed over to security check area with her carry on bag.
"Sugar!" Brittany called out. Sugar turned back to face her parents. "Don't come back with more luggage than you left with," she warned. Sugar laughed and waved again without giving a reply.
"Oh, poor France. It wont know what's hit it," Brittany murmured quietly.
"She looks so small," Santana whimpered as Sugar disappeared into the crowd of passengers.
"Our little baby girl. She's all grown up." Brittany sighed.
"Yeah. It's seems like yesterday I was bringing you both home from the hospital," Santana stared off to the last place she had seen Sugar.
They both stood there looking past the airport's security area with matching forlorn expressions.
"Umm," Santana turned to face Brittany. "Do you want to go get a coffee... or something?" she trailed off as she looked at Brittany. She cleared her throat. "Or not. I can just drop you back home."
"Actually, I'll just get a cab."
"What? No, Britt. I brought you here, I can drop you off, it's no trouble."
"I've got stuff to do so I'll just get a cab," Brittany insisted.
"Oh, I see. My own wife cant bear to be in a car with me unless Sugar is there as a barrier, is that it?"
"Ex-wife, Santana..." Brittany looked at her sadly. "I have to go."
"Fine, go on. Wouldn't want to keep Sam waiting," Santana muttered darkly as she watched her ex-wife walk away.
Sugar and Kitty exited the airport arrivals lounge giggling and shoving each other het up with excitement. Sugar pushed a cart with the maximum amount of luggage Brittany had let her get away with taking.
"I'll teach you all the French I know," Kitty giggled, "Which isn't much but, you know." She guided Sugar towards the taxi rank.
"Here, your first photo in Paris," Kitty snapped a shot of Sugar in front of the taxi sign leaning on her mountain of designer luggage. "Take one of me!"
"May I help, Ladies?" A French accent came from behind them. They turned to see a good looking young man behind them in the line smile and offer, "Would you like me to take a photo of the two of you?"
"Sure," Kitty smirked hungrily at him after eyeing him appraisingly and noting his designer tan leather jacket and a smart shoulder bag. She handed him the camera phone and then slung her arm around Sugar and whispered, "He's really cute," in her ear.
He snapped a picture of them. "There you go. Very nice," and returned the device with a friendly smile.
"Thank you."
"Where are you girls from?" he asked politely.
"California," Kitty answered.
Sugar eyed him pityingly as he broke out into song and sang a line of the Beach Boys hit 'California Girls' to them. Kitty giggled.
"I am Brody," he said with a smile after they laughed at his singing. Kitty cleared her throat and prepared to dazzle him with her blinding knowledge of the French language.
"Je 'mapelle Kitty. And ummm... this is Sugar."
They all laughed at her attempt and Brody smiled. "Nice to meet you." He looked around. "Um are you going into Paris?"
A familiar voice flashed through Sugar's head and she leaned into her luggage and watched while Kitty answered.
"Oui," Kitty giggled, batting her eyelashes.
"Well, the taxis here are so damned expensive," Brody said with his smarmy accent. "Want to share?"
Kitty didn't even look Sugar's way before answering. "Sure!"
Sugar looked unsure but managed a smile and followed her friends lead. "Would you be able to help with my luggage?" she smiled winningly at him.
"Um, of course," said Brody, and Sugar and Kitty watched with differing measures of appreciation as Brody manhandled their mountain of bags into the back of the waiting taxi.
In LA Santana collected her take away meal for one and walked out of the Chinese restaurant with her phone to her ear. An automated voice told her - "Flight 228 arrived in Paris, Charles de Gaulle at 8am local time." Santana frowned and hung up. Sugar hadn't called her yet.
The taxi pulled up in an affluent suburb of Paris and the girls got out along with Brody who then helped them unload their luggage. Sugar noted curiously the cab driving off without Brody.
"Nice address," he whistled, looking around the old Parisian street and the expensive looking apartment buildings.
"Oh thanks," said Kitty. "It's actually my cousins', but they're away for the summer so we have the place to ourselves. How cool is that?"
Another warning flashed through Sugar's head. Don't give out information, her mother's voice warned.
"I didn't know that," Sugar said quietly aside to Kitty.
"It's no biggie," Kitty shrugged her concern off.
Sugar got that sinking feeling her mother wouldn't be too pleased when she found out. And she would find out. She always found out.
"I have to be going," Brody said. "It was nice to meet you."
"You too," said Sugar, relieved he was fucking off and began to tug her luggage into the building.
"Um, you know what?" He turned back to them. "There is a cool party tonight if you want to come?"
"Sure, yeah," said Kitty excitedly.
"We don't even know him," Sugar warned. "He might be a weirdo or some skanky junkie. He might live in his mother's basement or he might be into taxidermy. We don't even know if he wears socks."
"What is there to know? He's hot."
"I will come pick you up, around nine?" Brody offered.
"Okay, great," Kitty giggled.
"Um, your address? Which apartment?"
"The whole fifth floor," said Kitty.
"Okay great," Brody said with a grin. "I will see you tonight." And he walked off pulling his phone out of his pocket.
"Hello." He said a street name in French when he was out of earshot. "Fifth floor. Yes, two girls around eighteen. They're alone."
"Oh. My. God." Sugar gasped and then squealed as she saw the filthy rich apartment they'd be staying in. "How cool is this? Oh my god!" She screamed "This is awesome!"
"I know, right?" Kitty laughed and then flopped onto the couch.
Sugar looked around and then deflated a bit at her thoughts. "I just wish you'd told me your cousins weren't going to be here."
"What's the big deal, Sugar. So what?"
"I told my mom they'd be here."
"You told your mom you were going to museums too. Oh come on, she's not going to know." Kitty sighed at the unhappy look on Sugar's face. She lay back and stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. "I'm going to sleep with him."
"Who?" Sugar asked.
"Brody."
"You just met him!"
"I hear French guys are amazing in bed. Maybe he has a friends, huh?"
"Uh, no."
"Come on, you've got to lose it some time, might as well be in Paris."
Kitty hopped over to the stereo nearby and turned on some rock music blasted out she started jumping madly around the room to Sugar's amusement.
"I have to pee," Sugar indicated with her body language making Kitty laugh and then she pointed the direction of the bathroom.
On top of her bag dumped at the door Sugar's phone rang unheard by the girls over the loud music.
In the pitch blackness of the Pierce residence the bedside clock read 02:00am. Brittany grunted into her pillow then smashed her hand over her alarm clock. When the noise didn't stop the customised ringtone became clear she leaned over and picked up her flashing cell phone. She squinted at the screen.
"What?" her voice was husky, thick with sleep.
"It's me. Has Sugar called you yet?"
"Santana. She is seventeen and she's in Paris. Give her some space, she'll call. Take a sleeping pill, have a drink or something. Goodnight." And she hung up.
"Goodnight," Santana huffed and slumped onto a chair in her apartment. She dialled Sugar's number again and perked up when this time the call was answered.
"Sugar?"
Loud music blasted down the line. "Hang on!" Sugar shouted as she tried to find a quieter room in the apartment. "Hi Mom," she said walking down a quieter corridor.
"What did I say? You were supposed to call me when you landed," Santana said sternly.
"I'm sorry,"
"I thought something was wrong with the phone."
"No, it was just such a rush at the airport," Sugar continued wandering the building looking for somewhere peaceful to speak.
"All right," said Santana. "Well, of course if I had the number of the place you're staying I would have just called there. What's the number?"
Sugar found a quiet bathroom overlooking a courtyard. Across the courtyard she could see Kitty through the window opposite jumping around on the couch and rocking out with an air guitar.
"I don't have it," she said sullenly.
"Sugar, come on, this is one of the conditions. Let me talk to one of the cousins I'll get it from them."
Sugar leaned against the window sill and watched Kitty who had let her down. "They're in Spain," she said quietly. "I didn't know, Mom, I swear!" She said clearly upset.
"In Spain?" Santana said tersely. "Is there anything else you want to tell me?"
Sugar watched Kitty unhappily, upset with her friend and upset with herself for letting her mom down.
As she watched, without forewarning, a man appeared in the room with Kitty went straight for the girl and grabbed her around the waist. Sugar stepped back from the window in shock and peered around the corner. There were now two men in there.
"There's someone here," she gasped.
"The cousins are back?" Santana asked.
"No," Sugar said in a shaky voice as she watched the men both tried to pin Kitty's arms and legs. She could hear her friend scream over the music.
"Oh my god. They've got Kitty."
"What are you talking about, Sugar?" Santana demanded, getting worried.
"Mom!"
"Sugar?" Santana was frantic as Sugar cried down the phone.
"Mom, they took her!"
Sugar hid out of view of the window and cried a strangled "No!" in the phone. Kitty was gone. Santana ran for a briefcase she kept in her apartment and opened it as she ached from hearing Sugar crying down the phone. Santana's jaw clenched.
"All right. Listen to me. Did you meet anyone on the plane?"
"No."
"At the airport?"
"No. Wait, yes. Brody."
"Brody who?"
"I don't know."
Santana opened the case which contained a stash of cash, a selection of different nationality passports, a gun and a recording device. She pulled out the recorder and attached it to her phone setting up mini speakers and recording the conversation on speaker phone.
"American?"
"No."
"Did he know where you were staying?"
Sugar sobbed. "He took a cab with us." She watched as the men searched the room over the courtyard. "Mom, they're coming," she whimpered. "Mom, please, I'm scared." Sugar's sobs rent down the phone-line.
"I know you are. Stay focused, Sug. You have to hold it together. How many people are there? Be precise."
"Three, four? I don't know."
"Where are you?"
"In the bathroom."
"Go to the next bedroom. Get under the bed and tell me when you're there."
Santana bit her lip so hard it bled as listened to Sugar's breath hitch with crying as she moved to the next room. Sugar snaked under the bed and held the phone to her ear.
"I'm here."
"Now, the next part is very important."
Sugar listened to the sounds of doors opening and footsteps in the apartment getting closer to her.
Santana closed her eyes. "They're going to take you."
Santana's heart clenched in her chest at the sound of the choked whimper coming down the phone line. "Sugar, stay focused, baby. This is the key. You will have five maybe ten seconds. Very important seconds. Leave the phone on the floor. Concentrate. Shout out everything you can see them. Hair colour, eye colour, tall, short, scars. Anything you can see. You understand?"
Sugar couldn't reply she was so upset she was shaking.
"No matter what happens, Sugar, I am coming to get you," Santana promised. "You just have to hold on in there."
Sugar looked up at the sound of floorboards creaking.
"They're there," Santana said quietly down the line to her. "I can hear them. Remember, concentrate."
The door to the room Sugar was hiding in opened and she watched their boots in silence as they walked in and around the bed. They spoke in a foreign language which Santana listened to closely.
"Put the phone closer so I can hear," she said softly to Sugar who complied with a shaking hand. Immediately their voices become clearer to Santana. Sugar gulped as she watched their feet walk back to the door and leave the room. She held the phone back to her ear.
"They're leaving," she whispered. "I think they're-"
With a piercing scream Sugar was pulled by her feet out from under the bed dropping the handset so it remained hidden.
Thousand's of miles away Santana sat frozen in horror listening to her daughter's screams and struggles over the phone line. She sat forward as all of a sudden Sugar's screams turned to comprehensible words and she yelled out distinguishing features to her mother.
"Beard! Six feet! You bastard." There was the sound of a grown man yelping and then a groan. "Tattoo, right hand, moon and star."
Santana twitched uncontrollably at the sound of glass breaking and Sugar's went quiet. She listened to the sound of someone moving and then breathing over the phone. She picked up her handset and held it to her ear.
"I don't know who you are," she said with deadly intent into the phone. "I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don't have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let my daughter go now, that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you.
There was a resounding silence for a few moments.
"Good luck," a thickly accented voice sneered then the line went dead.
Next chapter: Brittana