"Carla, Carla come on baby, open your eyes," says Peter.
There is a loud thud against the hard wood floor. I don't want to look, who's been shot now?
"Baby please" Peter tries again his voice desperate.
Forcing one eye open narrowly I look up and see him still kneeling in front of me as before.
"It's ok, baby it's ok" he reassures whilst brushing my hair from my face.
I stare into his eyes still shaking violently the tears reforming and rolling down my cheeks. He seems so calm; he holds my shoulders tightly trying to stop me shaking.
Abel coughs and Peter turns round to him, I look past Peter so I can see also. He stands cool, calm and collected holding the automatic out in front of him. It's aimed in our direction. Sliding my eyes to my left, I see Rafael cold on the floor beside me. His hand still limply holding the pistol and a bullet wound to his head similar to the one he put in Steve's head all those weeks ago on the boat. I turn back to Peter and he's still staring at Abel.
"Peter" but it's barely a whisper.
"Carla?" he turns back to me concern etched on his face.
I swallow hard and gently motion my head in the direction of Rafael's body.
Peter hesitates for a minute but then looks. Blood has pooled around his head and Peter's face drains of all colour as he gazes at the sight before him. Quickly he turns back to Abel "You…You" he stutters but just can't seem to get the words out. Abel nods "I did it, he would have killed her" he explains calmly.
"But why?" Peter asks confused.
"She…she saved my…whilst were in Thailand she saved my life" he eventually blurts out
He turns to look at me; I nod in agreement with Abel. We stare blankly at each other not sure what to do next. Surely Jim and Mr Azarov have heard the shot, if they're still here that is.
"He was a bad man, my brother but he hated me. He was going to kill you anyway at some point." Interrupts Abel.
Peter doesn't look at all trusting of him. Suddenly he reaches for the ropes that bind me to the chair and frantically pulls at the knots to get them undone. With each pull the rope rubs against my already raw wrists. He gives me a compassionate look as he reads the expression of pain upon my face. One wrist is eventually freed and he moves onto the next, just as he loosens the restraint we hear footsteps.
The door suddenly flies open and Jim enters. "What's going on?" he asks confused by the scene. Abel stutters as he begins to give an answer but is soon interrupted by the ringing. The mobile that Rafael had flung in my lap and played the message that was left by Mr Injamin's brother rings out from his jacket pocket. The vibration can be felt through the floor. Jim doesn't hesitate he makes his way to Rafael's cold body and roots in each pocket until he finds the phone. In the press of a button it is answered and he taps it on to loudspeaker. A deep psychotic breathing emerges before it hangs up.
Jim stares at the phone for a few moments before Abel interrupts breaking the silence. "It's him, it's about his brother, he'll find us he wants revenge"
Jim gives him a quizzical stare "What?" he asks.
"Thailand! That is Mr Injamin's brother" Abel explains
The phone lets out a beep and it must have taken Jim by surprise because he drops it and it smashes into pieces as it hits the hard surface of the floorboards.
"We need to leave, get her sorted and then get to the car," orders Jim as he storms out of the room. Abel rushes over and aids Peter in removing the restraints from my ankles. Once I'm free Peter reaches under both my arms in an attempt to lift me from the chair but he buckles beneath me, he's just to weak to hold my weight. Abel reaches across to take me instead. He scoops me up in his arms and makes his way to the door with Peter trailing behind.
Reaching the car I'm thrown in to the backseat before Jim climbs in beside. Mr Azarov is at my other side and Peter sits up front with Emilio who is in the drivers seat. The door opens once more for Abel to climb in before we speed off into the night. I tremble with fear, no idea where we are headed or what is happening. Mr Azarov runs a single finger down my goose pimpled arm before clasping my hand in a strong grip. I jerk my head round to see him gazing at me. My eyes widen as he squeezes my hand.
We must have been travelling for hours in the pitch black, the odd star shining through the blanket of cloud in the sky. I yawn, how can I possibly be tired with all that is going on? Azarov lifts his arm and places it around my shoulder pulling my body close to his. "Rest your head sweetheart," he says. Peter shifts in his seat and turns round to look at me. He watches Azarov pull me closer and stroke my hair blocking our direct vision in the process.
Coughs disturb me and as I choke on them I wake myself. Having disturbed Azarov he lets go of me so I am able to sit up. I look around and notice in the distance we are approaching Belgorod airport.
"Where are we going?" I ask in a croaky voice.
"You don't need to know," answers Jim his tone harsh.
The car screeches to a stop right outside the entrance and they all hurry out abandoning it. Peter takes a firm hold of my arm and whispers in my ear. "It'll be ok baby, I promise."
We follow behind them as they head over to a lone man in a suit. He reaches in his inside pocket and hands them what looks like a bunch of tickets in exchange for a handful of cash.
Jim takes possession of my right arm and pulls me from Peter.
"Hey, what you doing?" Peter yells.
"Come! You go with Abel" he says to Peter as he pulls me away. Abel restrains Peter as he's itching to go for Jim. The distance between us increases as we exit the lobby and head in the direction of the gates and lounges.
"PETER! I LOVE YOU!" I suddenly scream as the realisation that we are being parted again sets in.
"SHUT UP" Jim aggressively orders through gritted teeth as he pulls me from Peter's sight.