99% of the noise was muffled, but somehow Abigail was able to distinctly hear and pinpoint the dripping of a leaky pipe amid the darkness enveloping her. As she slowly came to, she began to focus on each noise and sensation one by one: dripping pipe; hard floor; cold air; three arguing men on the opposite side of a large room; given how the echoes were, she guessed that the walls and floor were concrete. She must be in an abandoned building, but then why the dripping pipe? Because the rain had stopped. While she was in the middle of figuring this out, footsteps neared her. Boots; loud, confident strides. This one must be the leader. He tore the black sack off her head, and once her eyes became accustomed to the sudden light, she knew her deductions were correct.

"Where is the Red Widow?" he barked in Russian.

Why is she the only one who gets called that? Abigail wondered. Both of us were stuck in the Academy. But...we were stuck longer.

As she didn't answer, he slapped her hard in the face. Fireworks exploded inside as her injured head screamed against the harsh action.

"Where is the Red Widow?" he yelled again, grabbing her hair and forcing her to look at him.

"Go to h-"

He punched her in the face, and blood began to seep down from her nose.

"You didn't even let me finish!" she whined, "I was going to tell you to go to Hamricks!"

The others looked at each other in confusion, then the leader nodded to the opposite side of the room where a skinny table was set up. Abigail tensed; she didn't need the active imagination she had to know what would be on there. The man sent over brought the table over. Of course, he pulled it, and the metal legs screeched like a metallic witch as the table neared. Abigail cringed when she saw what was on there: a cloth, a water jug, and a car battery. The leader brought knives near to her face and trailed it down from her hairline down the middle of her face to her chin, where he used the point to tilt her head up.

"You have a pretty face," he whispered in her ear. She cringed. "I wouldn't want it getting messed up."

"Me neither," a masculine voice declared behind them. The three Russians turned to see a man leaning casually against the wall. Amanda could have sworn it was someone from Assassin's Creed. The trio tensed as the newcomer strolled up to them. They pulled out their guns and aimed them at his head when he got about ten paces from them. He raised his hands halfway and smiled.

"There's no need for that," he smiled.

"And why is that?" the leader snapped.

"Because you're far too late."

The man reached behind him under his jacket, pulled out four small knives, and threw them at the men's necks. The leader pulled one out of his neck and chest and lunged toward the attacker with a blood-gurgling roar. He was quickly incapacitated, and the newcomer stood alone in victory. He strode towards Abigail and cut the ropes binding her. She felt extremely awkward how he had to completely bear her weight. She was about to thank him when she watched as he pulled a needle out of his pocket.

"Woah-wait!" she weakly protested, but the needle still made its way into her neck.

"Trust me," was the last thing she remembered as she once again slipped off into Lala Land.


Katelyn was worried, but in denial of it as usual. Three Russians had created a crash to get traffic stopped, and they nearly killed her when she had gone up to check it out but had run off shortly before the fight got going. Abigail.

Surely, they couldn't have seen her. Unless...they had surveillance elsewhere. One of the cars behind them had been following them for a while, but Katelyn just teased her for being paranoid when Amanda commented on it. Maybe Abbs was right. Katelyn stumbled in the gathering dark as she followed the faint signal from Abigail's watch, nearly cursing as she stumbled over a root. As she walked further on, she began to hear a sound like quiet thunder, and actually cursed this time when she came across the river. How was she going to cross this without walking for almost an hour to find a bridge? Her monitor beeped. Katelyn glanced down and saw that the icon was moving again. Watching the sequence, Katelyn rapidly mapped out the quickest path to catch up and began to run along the river.


The man carried Abigail over his shoulder as he walked out of the building and to his car. For the briefest of instants, he thought of putting her in the trunk; because for all he knew, she was a killer. But he decided that the best way to get on her better side was that she woke up in the back of the car. Once in position, he texted his handler that the mission was completed, and he was on his way to the airport. He flipped the radio to Classical music and patiently waited for his prisoner of sorts to wake up. Forty minutes down the road, he began to get concerned; the drug should have only lasted twenty-five minutes or so. He looked in the back seat and saw that she hadn't moved. Or had she? He had heard of this one, how she could control what her subconscious could do, how she could wake up without moving or opening her eyes, and-heck-the list went on of what these Red Widows could do. Maybe he should have put her in the trunk...

Five minutes later, when he glanced in the rearview mirror, he got chills when he saw her cold blue eyes glaring at him.


Katelyn knew how to move over miles on foot, but this was just getting boring. Until she heard the screech of tires and a metallic crash just up ahead. Orange light began to glow up ahead as whatever crashed caught fire. Katelyn pulled out her gun and loaded her last magazine in it, picking up her pace. When she arrived on the scene, she saw that it was a small car that crashed and was currently being close to blowing up. The faint tendrils of fear began to grip her as she began to wonder if Abigail was in there. When she got to the wreckage, she couldn't see anyone near, then she heard moaning. Pathetically crawling away from the car was a battered, bloody man. He started when he saw her, and she kicked him over onto his back, ignoring the pained cries as she battered his likely broken ribs.

"Where is she?" she growled, pointing the gun at him.

"I...don't...know..." he rasped, choking on blood. "She...made me...crash...then...she...ran." He slumped on the ground, but Katelyn shook him awake again.

"Why did you take her?" she snapped, punching him in the chest. He couldn't answer for the blood in his mouth, but he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box. Katelyn thought it was a cigarette lighter. But he pressed it to her arm and instantly a burning ache exploded near her elbow. She cried out in surprise and shot him in the head, then ran for the woods, barely jumping down in the ditch in time to avoid the car exploding. Bright lights and dull, ringing thunder filled her head as she fought to stay conscious...and lost.


Deep in the darkness of her subconscious, Katelyn felt like she was in a rowboat, drifting peacefully on the sea. Well, peacefully, until her body reminded the fight, the whole night, the concussion from the car, and whatever the man shot her with. Her body was fully awake, but her mind just wouldn't come together. She began to hear noises and thought that someone was calling her name. Sight came next, and Katelyn began to put a person to the voice. As the blurriness cleared, she saw that it was a very worried Abigail shaking her.

Upon seeing Katelyn make correct eye contact, Abigail breathed out a huge sigh of relief.

"Damn, girl..." she said, "I thought you were dead."

"Sorry to disappoint," Katelyn muttered joylessly.

"What happened?" Abigail asked, worried again.

"I was hoping you could tell me what happened," she snorted. "I heard the crash, and when I ran up, I had a talk with the guy, but he didn't tell me anything, only shot me in the arm with something."

"Well, come on, we have to go," the blonde rushed, but Katelyn hung back, and shook her head wearily.

"No, Abbs," she said, the Russian accent slipping through. "We have to split up."

"And leave each other more susceptible to attack!?" Abigail said incredulously, "No way, Jose."

"But we attract more attention when we are together-Abbs, trust me. I won't be far."

"So...where do I go?"

Katelyn hung her head, gasping for breath as another wave of nausea hit her. "New York," she said finally. "Try hiding among the people."

"And you will be where...?"

"New Jersey," she said, straightening. "Not far."

"I was thinking that not far would mean not but a couple of miles," Abigail muttered. "And why the hell New Jersey?!"

"Stop being paranoid, ally," Katelyn laughed. "We'll be together forever, my sister."