Paul was facing away from her, his eyes on the door. He stood for a moment as if in silent thought, and then turned to catch her eyes, smirk solidly in place.
Sara looked away and down at her feet, wishing him away with all of her being, but he wasn't moving. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her mind a whirl with all he could do to her, every violation she could fathom, her time in the ER having shown her the many horrors a man could inflict upon a woman.
Please Michael, come back! Her mind screamed a silent prayer as Paul approached, his footsteps the only sound but for her own frantic pulse in her ears. He stopped in front of her and knelt down. When she wouldn't look at him he reached and forced her eyes level with his own, his fingers on her face sending a shudder of revulsion through her.
"I wish we had time right now Sara, I really do. But you know there's always tomorrow…And I will make time." He smiled, his eyes twinkling darkly.
He let go of her face, and then leaving her with his dark promise he strode to the door, shutting and locking it behind him.
Air rushed out of her nostrils in relief, and she closed her eyes fighting against the tears that threatened. She opened them slowly as the realization hit her; they had left without binding her legs.
Her eyes shot to the door, and then she was standing. She made her way quickly to the window and went to her knees. The small chip wasn't much, but she was figuring maybe she could see something that would give her an idea as to her whereabouts.
Tossing the hair out of her eyes Sara leaned forward putting her eye up to the small peephole. She scanned the area taking in the trees and wooded area that surrounded the back of the house? She realized she wasn't sure where in the house her room was located, she wasn't even sure it was a house. She sighed in defeat and leaned her head against the cool window.
She sat there for a moment and then worrying she might not have time to make it back to the bed she leaned back from the window. Using the wall, she leaned into it to gain her feet her, her bound hands hindering her movements. Once standing she looked around the room, the four walls bare, but for the faint outlines where a framed picture had once hung…and the small outline of a crucifix, its lower case T shape drawing her eyes.
She stared at the symbol for a moment and said a silent prayer. That she was praying despite the fact she hadn't been in a church in years wasn't lost on her, and she made a silent promise to attend if she got out of this alive...When she got out of this alive.
She made her way to the small dresser and turning her body she stood on tip toes to wrap her fingers around the knob. She winced as the drawer slid open, the tape cutting into her wrists with the effort. Turning around quickly her eyes raked over the drawer's contents. But for the tape and blindfold the drawer was empty.
She sighed and shoved it closed with her body. She looked to the bed and then began to pace the silent room, her thoughts finally going over what had transpired between her two captors. What had Paul said that had gotten Michael so angry? Something about being locked up. Why would being locked up bother Michael? Had he once been in jail…prison? Paul had compared this room to a cell… But he had also compared it to a closet. Was Michael the victim of abuse? Was he locked in a closet as a child? Whatever it was, maybe she could use it to her advantage, maybe gain his sympathy? But he seemed so cold…God this was hopeless!
She heard the key in the lock and rushed back to the bed; her behind barely making contact with the thin mattress before Michael entered the room with Paul on his heels.
XXXXX
Sara felt his eyes on her and looked up, her coppery eyes meeting cool blue for a brief moment before moving to the small scar above his top lip. And then his eyes moved to her feet.
"You left her untied?" He shot this at Paul, and then not waiting for a response Michael moved to the drawer and yanked it open roughly. He grabbed the tape and shoved it closed. A few beats later he was kneeling in front of her wrapping her legs with the silvery binding.
As he worked Paul was silent behind him. Once satisfied her legs were secure he stood to remove the tape from her lips. She closed her eyes waiting for the sting and then his fingers were working at the edges of the tape. She opened her eyes and looked up at him meeting his eyes. And then he was yanking the tape off, in one quick movement of his wrist. Sara winced as tears sprang to her eyes, but she didn't look away. She saw something flit through his eyes, like the ghost of a memory and then he was breaking eye contact, his hand shoveling down into his pocket to fish out his phone.
"Okay, I'm ready for the headset." He turned to Paul and held out his hand.
Her eyes took in the small headset Paul held in his hand. Paul handed it over in exchange for the phone and Sara watched as Michael put it on and made some adjustments. He brought the small microphone to his lips. "You gotta love technology." His words came out in a mechanical tone, sending a chill through Sara, but disguising his voice perfectly.
Paul chuckled and handed him the phone. "Let's do this."
Michael nodded and flipped open the phone. His finger paused over the button and then he was looking at her, his eyes a frosty blue. "Don't do anything stupid Sara. Just tell him you're okay, understand?"
She nodded. "Okay…I understand."
He looked down at the phone and then pushed a button and brought it to his ear.
A moment later, "You're daughter, Governor." He stuck the phone next to her ear.
"Sara, are you there? Sara?" Her father's worried voice flew through the tiny speaker.
"Dad…I'm here…Dad I'm okay…They haven't hurt me."
Her eyes filled with tears at his next words. "I'm going to get you out there Sara…we're going to get you home… I promise you."
She swallowed hard, "I know you are, Dad. I…" The phone was yanked from her ear. Sara squeezed her eyes closed at the disconnection. But they shot open at Michael's next words.
"As you have just heard your daughter is alive and well, Governor. Now let's you and I have a little chat, shall we? You have eight hours to comply with my demands or…well Sara won't be so healthy. Do I make myself clear, Frank?"
His words chilling her Sara looked away. Paul was grinning silently beside Michael. When he noticed her eyes on him his grin widened. Sara forced her eyes back to Michael.
She saw his eyes hardened as he listened to her father's response and then, "Listen closely Governor; you aren't calling the shots here. You'll get your daughter back when Lincoln Burrows contacts me. And he will only do so when he is safely out of this country. Tell me this works for you Frank."
Sara watched wide eyed, her mind spinning as Michael silently listened to her father's response. Lincoln Burrows? What did Lincoln Burrows have to do with this?
"Good to hear Frank. I'll be in touch." He flipped the phone closed and ripped the headset from his ear. Turning to Paul, "We're on. This will all be over soon."
Paul grinned and then his eyes snaked over to Sara. "Now this is where things begin to get interesting."
XXXXX
With a click of the key in the lock Sara was alone again with her thoughts. Eight hours for her father to meet their demands and then how long before Burrows was out of the country?
She closed her eyes against the darkness her mind whirling. Lincoln Burrows. All this time she had thought this was about money.
Lincoln Burrows… The name sounded familiar. And suddenly she knew why. She had read about him. He was in prison…on death row. She felt a chill invade her as it all began to make a twisted kind of sense.
She pushed herself to remember the details from the articles she had read over her Sunday breakfast of toast and coffee. Ignoring the rumble in her stomach at the thought of food she pushed harder. And then it all came back to her. Lincoln Burrows had killed four men, one of them being alleged mob king pin John Abruzzi.
She let her breath out. So this was about saving Lincoln Burrows from his death sentence? But who would go to such extremes to save an obviously guilty man? And if her memory served her, the evidence had been there. He was after all convicted on four counts of murder in the first degree. And then she knew the answer. Brothers…. They were brothers… The three of them were brothers. Her mind was racing. God, it all made sense! The way they spoke to each other…The goading.
She was ripped from her thoughts as the key hit metal. And then the bright light sent her eyes shut as the sound of footfalls filled the room.
Her heart pounded inside her chest as her eyes adjusted to the glare. She felt a moment of relief at the sight of Michael and then he was moving towards her.
He held a plate in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. "Sit up, Sara."
She struggled to sit and he placed the plate down beside her on the cot. Her eyes moved to the sandwich and her stomach growled loudly. She hadn't eaten dinner the night before. She had been too swamped at the hospital to find time.
"If you cut me free I…" She had been about to promise she would behave when he picked up the sandwich and brought it to her lips.
"Eat."
She met his gaze and took a bite. She chewed and swallowed, the white bread sticking to her dry mouth. She was eyeing the water as he moved to twist off the cap. He brought the bottle to her lips and she took a long swallow, a small amount dribbling down her chin and onto her shirt but she didn't care. The water was so good!
"More water…please?" He had been about to put the cap back on. He moved it to her lips and she took another swallow. "Thank you."
He picked up the sandwich again and brought it to her lips. She took a bite and chewed, this time the dry bread went down much easier…the bologna tasting better.
They sat quietly the only sounds those of her eating and drinking. When the sandwich was gone, she met his eyes, "Thank you… Michael."
He studied her for a moment and then without a word he got up and shut out the light. A moment later she heard the door close and the sound of the key locking her away filled the silence.