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-Author
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Chapter 2: A missing link at the ice skating rink
Kelly slowly walked into the broken down lobby of the vocal coach's office. She was dreading this visit. She wouldn't say her voice was terrible or even simply okay, her voice was good; but Opera? No.
Just then a craggily old lady of 80 or 90 came wincing down the stairs and spoke with an Italian accent, "How ya doin honey? A hear-a Charlie wants you to get a nice-a pretty voice? Ramona can do-a that!" She then finished her sentence with a smile that looked like quite a lot of effort was put into it.
"Hi Ramona, nice to meet you; I'm Kelly Nelson," Kelly said under her assumed name. Several beets of silence passed with the old lady just blinking daftly at the private detective. Kelly finally broke the silence with "umm...okay, when do we start?"
"Right-a now," the old lady said, with a full-hearted chuckle that flushed her face.
Kelly followed her up the stairs, very apprehensive of the two hours to come.
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The snow was coming down hard, the cold air freezing Sabrina's face. She knocked on the back door of the Bolshoi Opera house. The Opera was scheduled to perform In Moscow for only two more weeks, after that it was travelling to Paris. Several minutes later, she heard someone shouting in Russian; promptly after the door opened a crack.
"Hello, my name's Sabrina Winchester; I'm here to discuss business with the director of the company."
The man who had answered the door had a very confused look on his face.
"Oh that's right! You don't speak Engl-I'll just...I thought...never mind." She mimed talking with her hand, and eventually he got the picture. He gestured her inside out of the snow, into a nearly-deserted hallway, and said something in Russian to the only man that was nearby. The man turned to Sabrina.
"How can I help you?"
"Oh you speak English! I'm here to talk to the director of the company. Do you know his name?"
"I am who you seek. My name is Vladimir Gibazov."
"Very nice to meet you, might we step into your office and discuss some—"
"No! All discussions are to be done right here."
Sabrina was taken aback at his abruptness. Finally she managed to speak."In the hall? Well that doesn't seem very professional."
"Well I am sorry if your hopes of me being professional are not up to standard, I have—" he looked at his watch "—two minutes for you to be talking. It starts...now," he shouted as he tapped his watch.
"O-okay, um...well I am interested in buying the company—"
His face did a small twitch. "Are you? Well I'm sure you are. Will you wait here one second?" He looked at the man who had opened the door and said something in Russian, indicating it was about Sabrina with a jerk if his head in her direction. He then stalked off shouting "Andrei!" over and over again, evidently very angry. She looked at the man standing with her, who was now leering at her. She had the feeling that something had gone very wrong.
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Jill had a large amount of time on her hands. Kelly and Sabrina had both gotten interesting covers, while she got the routine journalist position. She looked out of the hotel snow-covered window with a sigh, and to her delight she saw a huge, outdoor ice skating rink in a little town square.
"Why not?" She thought to herself. She had time to kill. She grabbed her jacket and headed out of the door.
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Minutes and minutes had gone by, the man still leering at her. Sabrina had tried just leaving, but the man had grabbed her by the arm and shaken his head, smiling. She had thought about holding him at gun point while she escaped, but Charlie had given her a job to do. Vladimir Gibazov would not take her seriously for buying the Opera if she just left. No. She would stay and take whatever came, just as she usually did.
Just then she saw Vladimir coming down the hall along with a short wily man of about 5'6'' with raven black hair, who had a scowl on his face.
Vladimir nodded to the man who had been leering at her.
Bri hesitated, but finally said to the newcomer in the hope that he would speak English "Hello, my name—"
Vladimir rushed towards her, throwing her long and lanky frame over his head. The wind was knocked out of her as she was thrown over his shoulder.
"Hey, wait a minute! What's going on here?" She could hear Opera in the distance. It was no use. No one would hear her over the singing. She would try anyway. Her screams of "Help!" echoed down the hall, and then the alleyway as she was shoved into the trunk of a black sedan, gagged, and tied up.
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Kelly flopped onto the bouncy bed of the Russian hotel. "Is it just this hotel, or are all Russian hotel beds comfier than American hotel beds?" she thought to herself. She still had to check up with Jill and Bri. She called both of their rooms, Bri's above, Jill's below. No answer. Huh. It was almost dark.
"Oh well," she thought. Those two hours of Opera lessons with the old woman whose name had turned out to be Ramona Donatella, had been awful and exhausting. She old lady got grumpy and irritable whenever Kelly couldn't hit a note right.
Kelly flopped down onto the comfortable bed and dozed off.
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Jill had been ice skating so long that her feet were hurting, but she had to admit, she was enjoying herself.
"I should probably get home," she thought. "It's almost dark, and Kelly and Sabrina might be worrying."
Just then an employee skated towards her. "Jill Phillips?" Charlie had wanted all three angels to use fake identities while in Russia.
She nodded, as she wasn't sure if he spoke Russian or not. He handed her a phone.
A man's voice spoke in a muffled way, "We have your friend, Sabrina." Jill took a sharp intake of breath. "If you want her back alive, then you and your fake Opera singing friend will come with the National Opera of Moscow to France in two weeks. I will call you there and tell you what to do. If you do not, your friend is as good as dead. Talk to you in two weeks." There was a sharp click.
She skated over to the edge of the rink, and unlaced her skates as quickly as she could. Inconspicuously she slipped the phone into her purse, and ran across the street to the hotel.
...
Kelly heard a quick, frantic knock that startled her awake. She got up and looked through the peep hole. It was Jill, panting.
She unlocked the door and slid out the chain. Jill burst in.
"Sabr—"She took a deep breath, "They have her—got a call—kidnapped—Paris."
"Whoa, slow down! Sabrina was kidnapped? By who?"
Jill told Kelly all about the call.
"We have two weeks to find Sabrina and solve this mystery before the Opera travels hundreds of miles to France? Just our luck," Kelly flopped onto the bed with a sigh.
"I have the phone that the man called on, though. Is there any way we could run it through a machine to get a voice report?" Jill looked doubtful as she said this.
"Actually, I think there is," Kelly said.
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