Chapter 8
Lying in the trunk of the car, Jaime's arms and legs were not bound (although her head was still hooded) because she had feigned unconsciousness so convincingly. Truth was, she was struggling now to keep her wits about her. The canvas hood was stiflingly hot, almost smothering, and did exactly what it was intended to do: induce panic. Her head throbbed from several sore points on her skull and she fought off the blackness that felt like it loomed just around the corner, knowing instinctively that to pass out would be fatal in one way or another. She remembered what Steve had told her (just that morning) about using fear to make you stronger instead of letting it paralyze you...and Jaime hung onto that.
What were her options? She could kick open the trunk and try to escape (before they were able to stop the car and come after her). Not likely; Jaime knew her balance was off and she stood a good chance of landing splat on the roadway. Besides, she wanted them to take her...wherever it was they were going. She could remove the hood (God, she wanted to remove the hood!) and wait until they opened the trunk - then overpower her captors, storm the hideout and rescue Steve and Russ...but what did she think she was, she chided herself...a one-woman army? They'd originally thought this 'splinter cell' might contain no more than two or three rogue members...but there were at least two or three men in this car right now - and Jaime doubted Russ and Steve had been left alone with no one to guard them! No, this second idea wasn't one of her best, when she had no clue - yet - exactly what she was up against. She would have to wait and see what was coming next...and decide her own next move from there. For now she would work on forcing herself to stay put...and not pass out.
A door opened and closed downstairs and the gunman laughed with an sneer so evil that Steve could hear it. ''Now the fun really starts; we find out just what makes that little lady tick! Now, don't you go anywhere. I'll be right back with some company for you.''
His tormentor headed down the rickety stairs and Steve shifted his weight and attempted to loosen the ropes just a little - not enough to be noticeable if they should check but in an effort to return circulation to his left arm. He succeeded...and immediately wished he hadn't. There was something wrong. Pain seared white-hot from his shoulder to his wrist as the blood flow returned to the formerly-numb limb. He hadn't been roughed up that badly (had lived through far worse, in fact) so he guessed it had happened when he'd slammed into Jaime in the back of the car. Did that mean she was hurt too? From the sound of things, he was about to find out.
''Your 'husband' has been waiting for you,'' he heard someone taunting as more men with heavy boots made their way up the stairs. ''Or maybe he's just some bodyguard-flunky the OSI hired to protect you, huh? Doesn't matter now.'' The boot steps came closer - and Steve heard the sound of a body being laid not-so-gently on the floor directly behind him. He knew the scent of her shampoo...and his heart sank. Jaime.It didn't sound like she was fighting and she hadn't spoken a word.
They were lying back to back on the dusty floor, with Steve still secured to the chair (now laying on its side). He felt their captors tie Jaime's arms to his own, around the wooden back of the chair and then the whole chair jerked as (he assumed) her legs were secured as well. She seemed to be offering no resistance.
''Let's give her some time to come to, while we prepare a proper 'Welcome' for her...and sharpen the tools!'' one of the men laughed. ''We want her fully awake and aware when we start cutting into her!'' With that, the terrorists turned on their heels and headed away, confirming Steve's suspicion they were in an attic when they folded up the stairs and the attic door creaked and then slammed shut.
''Jaime...?'' Steve whispered, audible only to her in case they weren't really alone. Her fingers reached over and met his. She was alive! And awake. ''If we're alone - and you don't hear any 'bugs' - squeeze my hand.''
There was silence for a moment while (Steve hoped) she was listening to their surroundings. ''They're gone,'' she answered very softly. ''And Russ is...in a - a room just to the right...at the bottom of the last flight of stairs. I heard struggling as they were...carrying me past.''
''Great work, Sweetheart. Are you alright? Did they hurt you?'' He chose not to tell her about his left arm because he was guessing she was frightened enough already.
''My...head...it hurts. Sorta dizzy. But...I'm okay...'' she offered weakly. (Her voice seemed to be trailing off, the more she spoke.) ''I can run...and I can stand and - and fight. Whatever you need...me to do...''
Steve knew she would need Rudy as soon as they got out...but first they needed to get out!They had very little time to come up with a plan - so as quickly and clearly as possible, Steve outlined what they would have to do. They would only have one chance and would need to work together as smoothly as a well-oiled machine. Would Jaime be able to go through with it - to do what needed to be done, with split-second timing - or would she freeze with fear?
