Kathryn awoke slowly, vaguely aware of sounds off to her right. She couldn't tell where she was or if she was alone, and not wanting to alert whoever might be in the room that she was awake, she tried to take stock of her body and her surroundings without opening her eyes.

She was lying down, and she could feel something wrapped around both ankles, no doubt binding her to bedposts since it felt like she was lying on a mattress. Her arms were free, but she didn't dare move or open her eyes to see where she was.

She realized through her haze that the sound to her right was a voice...a man's voice. He sounded as though he were in conversation with someone, though she heard no one else speaking. Perhaps he was talking on the phone. His voice was deep and honeyed, and in any other situation, it would have calmed her.

The man in the room sounded worried, and she couldn't understand why he would sound worried. His voice kept moving closer and then farther away as if he were pacing, but Kathryn still couldn't make out what he was saying.

She grimaced slightly, her head feeling fuzzy like she was trying to listen through cotton or earmuffs. A slight throbbing pulse began to make itself known in the back of her head and it quickly grew in intensity, and Kathryn worried that she might be sick.

She took a slow, deep breath to try to calm her stomach, working to try to remember what had happened. Whatever it was, it wasn't good, easily judging by the state of her captivity and the sound of the voice near her.

She focused all her energy on listening to the man speaking, realizing that he must be on the phone with someone else. Using all the strength she could muster, she finally was able to understand what the man was saying.

"Yes, I have her, she's safe." He paused, "Yes, Paris is standing by for transport." Another pause, "No, the target got away. Three men are on him. Yes, Tuvok, Ayala and Suder." His voice moved away as he paced, but Kathryn could still tell he was close. Whatever room they were in, it wasn't large, "Yes, I think they will be successful, I just don't know how long it will take." Another pause, "Yes, she should be waking up soon; once she was unconscious I gave her a mild sedative so moving her would be easier." Kathryn heard him chuckle softly, almost as if he was trying to be quiet for her benefit. "Yes, she's a fighter. She got in a good shot before I put her out. Thank you, sir. I'll contact you when we reach the safe zone. Yes, thank you."

Kathryn heard the phone click closed, realizing he must be talking on a flip phone. She kept her eyes shut, listening for more movement.

What the hell was going on? Transport? Safe zone? Kathryn felt her heart rate pick up as nerves flooded her system, causing her stomach to churn even more than it already was.

Kathryn could tell there were lights on in the room, though she had no idea what time of day or night it was. She heard another sound off to her right; a door opening and closing, and then water running. He must have gone into a bathroom of some kind. She still didn't hear any voices in the room, so she chanced opening her eyes. They immediately began to tear from the fluorescent lights in the room, but no one stood over her with a gun to her head, so she decided to try sitting up.

That wasn't the best idea as a wave of nausea washed over her and the room spun for a moment. She fought back the contents of her stomach, closing her eyes until her queasiness subsided.

When she looked again, she realized she was in fact in a hotel room, or what looked like a hotel room. Glancing around she saw that she was alone in the room, save for whoever was in the closed bathroom. It seemed to her that he would be the only one she'd have to contend with in order to make her escape.

There was hotel stationery on the nightstand between the two queen beds, and the writing was in a language she wasn't familiar with...maybe German? That kicked her anxiety up several notches because the last thing she remembered, she was in Russia. Not wanting to have to deal with that fact right now, she looked down at her feet.

They were tied to the bedposts with two neckties, and someone had taken her shoes. She reached down to untie her left ankle, flexing her foot gingerly once it was free. Reaching over to untie the right, she'd just gotten the knot undone when she heard the bathroom door open. She lay back down as quickly as she could and closed her eyes, hoping the man wouldn't notice her ankles or that she had moved.

Kathryn heard him walk past her bed and over to the window. She'd noticed a laptop sitting on the small desk, and she heard a chair creak as he sat down before hearing him begin typing. She cracked her eyes open again, seeing that he was indeed facing away from her. If she was going to try to get out of here, this would probably be the best shot she'd have. Even if she couldn't get out of the hotel, at least someone at the front desk should be able to help her.

She still didn't have any idea where her shoes were, but right now that didn't matter. She just needed to get out of this room. Glancing at the man again, she could see he was deeply engrossed in whatever he was working on, so she eased herself towards the edge of the bed.

The man was tall. Six feet tall at least. He was wearing a long-sleeved black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and his forearms and biceps were muscular. His shoulders were broad and it looked like his thighs were thick with muscles as well. He looked like he could kick some serious ass, but Kathryn just hoped that his bulk would slow him down. Kathryn herself was small and quick, and hopefully that would lend her the advantage.

The man had short black hair, slicked back from his forehead. His skin was tan, and in half profile, he looked slightly ethnic; Mexican, Hawaiian, maybe Native American. In any other situation, she would have found him extremely attractive. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to get as far away from him as she could.

He turned even farther away from her, reading some report that lay next to his computer, and Kathryn knew that was her chance. She planted her right foot solidly on the floor and turned at the waist, keeping the man in her periphery as long as she could.

Just as she sprang to her feet the bed creaked, and before she had traveled the ten feet or so to the door, he was on her.

He grabbed Kathryn's left arm and jerked it so hard she thought sure he had wrenched it from the socket. She cried out in pain and surprise as he pulled her away from the door and pushed her on the bed, straddling her thighs with his own, his hands pressing her shoulders easily into the mattress.

There was no way she could move from the spot, though she struggled to get up. His hands slid down her arms to her hands, taking them in his so she couldn't swing at him.

Kathryn glared up at him, furious at being caught a second time. Though she still had no idea what was going on, she was practically livid with this man above her. His brown eyes held a concern she couldn't understand, and she was getting very mixed messages from this entire situation.

She lay still for a moment, trying to read this man's face, but she was at a loss. His dark hair was pushed back from his forehead, and he had some sort of tribal tattoo over his left eye. His face held so much concern, she couldn't understand why he was forcing her to stay in this room. She watched his face as he slowly let go of one of her hands. He held his up so she could see he wasn't reaching for anything before slowly lowering his fingers to her face. As soon as his thumb pressed gently against her cheekbone, she revolted once again. She struggled to get up, and her shoulder burned where he'd pulled her away from the door.

"Hey, be careful," he said gently, "You have a black eye, and I just want to make sure you don't have any bone fractures in your face." As soon as he said that, Kathryn did register a throbbing behind her right eye. Well, she thought to herself, that's where the headache came from.

He reached for her cheek again, and this time she let him. There was something in his expression and those warm brown eyes that told her she could trust him. She flinched when his thumb pressed into her cheekbone again, moving over both brown bones and to the cheekbone on the other side. She tried to remain on edge, but her adrenaline was waning, and between that and her general fatigue, she was struggling to stay alert. Once he seemed satisfied that she wasn't injured beyond what he could see, he moved back slightly.

"I want to let you go, but I need to make sure that you aren't going to try running again. I'm going to explain to you what is happening, and I need you to stay calm and listen to the whole story. Please don't interrupt, and when I'm through I'll answer any questions you have. Will that work?" He eyed Kathryn warily, waiting for an answer.

Kathryn glanced around, anywhere but at the man pinning her to the bed. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers caught in a giant knot at the back of her head. Her hair there was matted and crusty, and the back of her head was wet. When she pulled her fingers back there was tacky blood there, and glancing down at the white hotel pillow, she saw a stain of blood the size of a half dollar. Frantically turning back and meeting the dark eyes of the man before her, she silently begged him to tell her everything.

He sighed, but then drew breath and spoke, "You hit your head yesterday. I apologize because that was my fault. I admit that your black eye is my fault as well. I had to subdue you and I hit you a bit harder than I anticipated," he grinned slightly, "You came flying at me, ready to fight...you kind of threw yourself into my fist." He chuckled, but his face quickly turned serious. "You fell and hit your head on the concrete. Do you remember any of that?" Kathryn shook her head, trying and failing to remember the events of the day before.

"My name is Chakotay Dorvan. I am an American FBI agent, in the command division of the Department of Homeland Security. I was in Russia yesterday with a team of agents on a mission to eliminate several key figures in a major Russian mafia regime. We had received intel that this organization was plotting a bombing attempt on our American Embassy in Moscow, as well as certain strategic points in the United States."

Chakotay paused, and Kathryn could see the American Embassy in her mind's eye. "I remember being at the embassy," her eyes darted back and forth as flashes of memory hit her like a force.

"We planned our hit for eleven pm local time, but mafia members were aware of our plans and were waiting for us. Just as we entered the building, five of my men were shot and killed. We became aware of a hostage situation in the building; two members of Russian Parliament and two American women. Just then we heard two gunshots." Kathryn's eyes went wide, "The two members of Parliament were killed by the terrorist organization. They were planning to kill you and the other woman next, but wanted to use you both as leverage to find out where we got our intel on their American targets. While we were trying to buy time, another agent and I were able to infiltrate the building and find the both of you. Just as we entered the room, the other woman was shot." He sighed again, "We were able to get you out, but the Russians got away. We got you out of the building, with some fighting on your part," he chuckled again, pointing at a purple bruise on his left temple. Kathryn's cheeks pinked as she realized what he'd meant when he told whomever he spoke to on the phone that she was a fighter. She blanched in embarrassment, but let him continue. Her mind was still racing as she tried to put all of the jumbled puzzle pieces together. She was still struggling.

"Three of my men went after the Russians who murdered the other woman, and we were chased for several hours as we tried to get you out of harm's way. We eliminated the threat to your life, but believe that the Russian organization responsible will not stop until you have been found and killed. It is my job to make sure that doesn't happen."

Kathryn was speechless. Chakotay had let go of her hands, but Kathryn was frozen in place, unable to move even if she wanted to. She had no solid memory of what he'd told her. She couldn't even remember who she'd been in Russia with, or why she'd been in the embassy. Her mind was spinning for answers and just then her stomach began to roil once again.

A look on her face must have alerted Chakotay to her impending need because he scrambled off of her just as Kathryn lurched off the bed, barely making it to the bathroom before dropping to her knees over the toilet to vomit.

Her body convulsed again and again until her stomach was empty and bile burned in her throat. Closing her eyes, she crumpled to the floor, pressing her forehead into the cool tile as she tried to catch her breath. How could this be happening? After a few seconds she heard the toilet flush and a large warm hand came to rest on her back, "Hey, you okay?"

Kathryn made a noise in her throat that Chakotay must have interpreted as a 'yes' because he gently slid his hands under her arms and lifted her until she was sitting up, leaning against the tub. He was kneeling in front of her holding up an open bottle of water. Kathryn took it and took a sip, closing her eyes at the feel of the cool water rinsing her mouth. Her stomach revolted again briefly at the sudden violation when she swallowed, but she was able to keep it down, so she drank a bit more. "I was vacationing in Moscow with a friend...I can't remember," she pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead, willing her brain to start functioning on all cylinders. She glanced back up at the man kneeling before her, concern still pinching his face. It made Kathryn's eyes burn and several tears slipped down her cheeks, "Can I see some kind of identification, Commander?"

Chakotay chuckled out a sigh, but reached into his back pocket and pulled out a black leather wallet, holding it out to her. Kathryn pulled it open to a picture of him with his name beneath it and the official Federal Bureau of Investigation seal on the other side. She had never seen an FBI badge before, but it seemed legitimate. Since she'd regained consciousness, though she was still foggy as to what was happening, she felt like she could trust this man. There was something in his face...in his eyes that exuded trust, and it calmed her.

She handed Chakotay his badge back, noticing a hip holster equipt with a pistol. If he'd wanted her dead, he could have already done it a dozen times over. Instead he'd protected her, assessed her wounds and given her water.

Kathryn pressed her fingers into her temples as her headache still pulsed dully behind her eyes, "I thought things like this only happen in the movies," she moved to stand up, but Chakotay was to her in a flash, wrapping his hands around her forearms and lifting her easily to her feet. As she came to stand, she marveled at the strength in his arms...in his entire body. It wasn't a surprise that he'd easily hit her and knocked her out cold.

He kept hold of her arms until he determined that she was steady on her feet, before backing up slowly. They walked together back into the main room, and Kathryn noticed that the pillow with the blood on it was gone. She sunk down onto the bed, and Chakotay sat across from her on his own, facing her.

"I was in Russia on vacation with a friend of mine. I remember," she rubbed her forehead, "I remember my passport and wallet were stolen. I was at the embassy to get a new one, but with no identification, it was taking forever for the paperwork to clear. That's all I remember."

He nodded, "What's your name? I tried to find out anything I could about you, but like you said, you had nothing identifying you on your person. You had nothing with you except that bag." Chakotay pointed to the floor next to the bed, and Kathryn saw her messenger bag lying there. She sighed as she looked at it. It contained a book she'd been reading, her journal and a bottle of perfume. Was that all she had left in the world? Her stomach churned again, but she ignored it, remembering that he'd asked her a question.

"My name is Kathryn. Kathryn Janeway."

"It's nice to meet you, Kathryn," She marveled at the sound of her full name. Most everyone she knew called her Kath or Katie. She liked hearing her name from him. Chakotay held out his hand, and she shook it gently, laughing to herself that they were just now getting to introductions. "So, Commander, what do we do now?" She wiped her eyes.

"My name is Chakotay," he grinned gently, an eyebrow raising.

"I know," she smiled back at him.

He took a breath, "Well, you go take a shower and get that blood out of your hair. It's about two in the morning. I have a few more phone calls to make. We are in Germany now, just outside Berlin, and I have to get you out of the country by tomorrow night, so we both need to get some sleep. I don't have any of your clothes, but we'll make due until we can get a few things sorted out for you. We'll be on the move for a while, and you can't wear that every day," he motioned to her torn and bloodied tank top. She remembered she'd been wearing a cardigan over it, but had no idea where that ended up. Her jeans were also torn at the knee and dirty, and she was still shoeless.

Chakotay got up and went to his own duffel, pulled out a dark grey t-shirt and handed it over to Kathryn. She realized that, though it surely fit him comfortably, it would easily fall nearly to her knees. She nodded her thanks and went back to the bathroom and closed the door.

Kathryn lay the shirt on the counter next to a small zipper bag that she could only assume was his toiletry kit, before looking up at her reflection, taking in the sight of herself truly for the first time since she'd regained consciousness.

She had a bruise around her eye where Chakotay had hit her. She would have to figure out some way to cover it up, otherwise it would draw some serious attention. She had a scrape on her right shoulder that had already scabbed over, and her back ached. She gingerly touched the back of her head again to feel the damage.

All in all, she looked much worse than she felt. The goose egg on the back of her head wasn't large, and the scab there was maybe the size of a dime. Her knees were both scraped up and she had several small cuts and scrapes on her bare feet, but she was still alive.

Kathryn pulled her tank top off and threw it in the garbage, then removed the rest of her clothes, leaving them on the counter next to Chakotay's shirt.

She turned on the shower as hot as she could stand and stepped into the spray. She was desperate for a long, hot bubble bath, but knew that she would have to wait...for how long she did not know.

It took nearly five minutes and an entire bottle of hotel shampoo to work the blood and knots out of her hair, but the water finally ran clear and her long long hair hung free of it's tangles.

She unwrapped the shower soap and scrubbed herself clean of the blood and dirt that coated her fair skin. Her shoulder still hurt from where Chakotay had pulled her away from the door, but she could tell that nothing was actually dislocated or broken.

When she finally felt clean, she leaned into the spray, allowing her shoulders to sag as the events of the last twenty four hours washed over her again and again. Feeling the weight of everything Chakotay had told her press down on her, she physically couldn't remain upright as she sank down to the tub floor, dropping her forehead to her bent knees.

Hot tears burned in her eyes and she let them fall. Her entire life as she knew it, for the foreseeable future, was over. She might not even be Kathryn Janeway anymore. While she sat there, a fake identity very well could be being crafted for her. She might never see her mother and sister again. She tried to muffle a sob as she mourned her family and her future.

What was she supposed to do now?

Taking a deep breath, she turned her face towards the shower spray and let it run over her skin, washing her tears away.

She supposed the first logical thing to do would be to stand up and turn off the water. Next she would dry off and get dressed. After that she would probably try to sleep. At some point she and Chakotay would leave this hotel room. By then, she'd probably know the next few steps.

It was quite a thing to get used to, but it would have to do for now.

The bathroom was quite steamy by the time Kathryn pushed the curtain open and stepped out. Using a towel to wipe off the mirror, she was glad to see color back in her cheeks; feeling a bit more like herself. The scratches and scrapes didn't look so bad now that the dried blood was washed off.

She pulled on Chakotay's t-shirt, which did in fact fall over half way down her thighs. She wrapped her bra and panties in her jeans and pulled open the bathroom door.

Chakotay was back at his computer, and didn't turn around right away as she padded across the floor. She set her clothes down next to her bag and watched Chakotay work for a moment.

He truly was an attractive man. He looked to be late thirties to early forties, just a few years older than Kathryn herself. His facial tattoo was certainly interesting, and she'd have to ask him about it later. She knew she'd certainly have time to learn more about him.

Chakotay finished what he was typing and turned around. Kathryn didn't miss the sweep his eyes did of her body, and pressed her lips together at the fact that it was more than a professional ogle. When his eyes met hers, he smiled.

"Feel better, Kathryn?" He closed his computer and turned his chair so he was fully facing her.

"Yes, actually," she took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh, "Just really tired, and could really use a toothbrush."

Chakotay grinned, those dimples of his pressing into his cheeks as he reached for something on the desk, turning back to hand her a blue toothbrush wrapped in plastic. "Here you go."

Kathryn took it with a smile, having no idea where he'd procured it, and not caring in the slightest.

"There's toothpaste in my bag in the bathroom." Kathryn nodded, padding back into the bathroom to brush her teeth. After cleaning them twice she rinsed her toothbrush and lay it on the edge of the sink.

Chakotay's bag lay unzipped on the counter, so after replacing the toothpaste, she used her pointer finger to lift the flap and peek inside. There was an electric razor, a stick of deodorant, and a small glass bottle of cologne. She pulled it open and smelled it. It was sandalwood and smoke and something sweet. She realized that the t-shirt she wore smelled the same.

When she came out of the bathroom the lights in the main room were off; only the light on the nightstand was on. Chakotay had changed into a t-shirt and pajama pants and was leaning against the headboard of the other bed, reading a magazine. His pistol was lying on the nightstand between the beds, and Kathryn eyed it for a moment before pulling the blankets back on her own bed, lying down and turning to face Chakotay. He glanced over with a gentle smile. "Do you mind if I leave the light on for a bit? I want to finish reading this article." He held up the magazine.

"Sure, that's fine." She lay there for a moment, not really focused on anything in particular before finally snuggling into the blankets.

"Sleep well, Kathryn," Chakotay smiled at her. Her eyes came up to meet his.

"Yes," she whispered, "You too."