Chapter 17 – Hotel
More than 48 hours ago, my world was turned upside down, and it still is spinning. Yet, no longer is it spinning from confusion at the games that Sloane is playing; now it is spinning because of drugs. I'm not sure what cocktail they injected me with but I would rather have had a blow to the head like Sydney. My heart drops, Sydney. Has she even woken up yet? I know it's a matter of time before she starts to follow us, but will they keep me alive? Will Jack actually give up Sark for me?
It's difficult to sit up, but finally I'm able to prop myself up, against a chair. I force my eyes open and lift my head to look around the room. It looks as if I'm in a deep fog, everything is so blurry. I see the outlines of what look like two beds; my best guess is that I'm stuck tied up in a hotel room. Shadows are swirling around me in the fog; there is Cassie and one of her two accomplices. They are speaking but I can't make out any of the words, I only hear mumbles as if I was in a tank of water trying to listen to the outside world.
My stomach gives a quick lurch and I close my eyes again. I've been concentrating too hard and now am horrible nauseous. I lay back on the floor, I feel so lost in the world. Is this what Sydney has gone through so many times? I start to understand why she hunts down Sloane, when in a situation like this all you can think of is getting out of it and returning the favor to your capture. Helplessness consumes me. I'm not a religious man, but for once I'm praying. I'm praying that I will be able to live, that I will be rescued, that there is still time in this life to enjoy with Sydney.
*****
There are low moans coming from the corner, I look over and see that Mr. Vaughn has propped himself up. He looks a lot different than the picture of him in the mission debrief. He looked like a puppy dog in the picture, one that would never bite, but so far he's not let us take him easily. We had to shoot him up with tranquilizers just so he would stop fighting and making a scene. We have been locked up in this hotel room for about two hours, just waiting for information from Sloane.
I walk over to one of the beds and sit down next to Charles, he snakes his arm around my back and starts to rub my lower back. "Are you still sore?" I nod my head; I still haven't been fully recovered since I got rid of the baby; not physical or emotion. I thought I was prepared for anything. When I was first recruited by Irina, I was excited; her plans seemed to make sense to me. I wanted to be part of something that was against the norm. When I finally got a mission that was worth proving myself; I took it. I just never expected these types of consequences for my actions, this type of personal sacrifice.
It was my own move though; Calvin could feel that there was something wrong with our relationship. Despite how hard I tried to convince him that I loved him, he was always suspicious, so I took the ultimate risk, I got pregnant. I didn't love him, he knew it, but seemed to over look that when I was pregnant. He always wanted to be a great father and used to say he would never get a divorce once children where involved. So I exploited that in order to stay in the position I was in. I knew I wouldn't have to keep the baby, I knew this was coming, but it was very important that I stay in the position I was in until the Libya mission went down. I wonder if he finally put the pieces together that I was the traitor before he died?
I pull myself out of my reverie of thought, and walk over to Michael. Charles shakes his head and returns to watching television. Michael's still dazed on the floor, he's muttering to himself. I reach down and grab his cheeks with one hand, and lift his head so that I can look into his eyes. "I'm sorry what did you say?" He tries to wiggle free but he's too sedated to really fight my grip. He just mumbles some more and starts to drool; I've always loved torturing captives. I let go of him in a jerking motion, I walk over to the nightstand and pull a suitcase over to the corner. I place in on the table and open it up removing a small cloth satchel. I open the satchel which reveals six syringes, and a few different bottles of clear liquid.
"Now Mr. Vaughn, I have here quite a few different drugs; all meant to extract information from people. I'll start with the lightest and work my way up until I get my answers." I pull out the mildest one and fill the smallest syringe. Mr. Vaughn simply sits there trying to move his muscles to protest, but the sedative keeps him where he is. I reach down and inject the serum into him, he barely moves and seems not to even really notice it. "Mr. Vaughn, why didn't Zanna come to Virginia? Why were you sent?" He seems to ignore me, like he can't hear; it could be the drugs, so I just let him sit there. "It's only a matter of time, only a matter of time."
More than 48 hours ago, my world was turned upside down, and it still is spinning. Yet, no longer is it spinning from confusion at the games that Sloane is playing; now it is spinning because of drugs. I'm not sure what cocktail they injected me with but I would rather have had a blow to the head like Sydney. My heart drops, Sydney. Has she even woken up yet? I know it's a matter of time before she starts to follow us, but will they keep me alive? Will Jack actually give up Sark for me?
It's difficult to sit up, but finally I'm able to prop myself up, against a chair. I force my eyes open and lift my head to look around the room. It looks as if I'm in a deep fog, everything is so blurry. I see the outlines of what look like two beds; my best guess is that I'm stuck tied up in a hotel room. Shadows are swirling around me in the fog; there is Cassie and one of her two accomplices. They are speaking but I can't make out any of the words, I only hear mumbles as if I was in a tank of water trying to listen to the outside world.
My stomach gives a quick lurch and I close my eyes again. I've been concentrating too hard and now am horrible nauseous. I lay back on the floor, I feel so lost in the world. Is this what Sydney has gone through so many times? I start to understand why she hunts down Sloane, when in a situation like this all you can think of is getting out of it and returning the favor to your capture. Helplessness consumes me. I'm not a religious man, but for once I'm praying. I'm praying that I will be able to live, that I will be rescued, that there is still time in this life to enjoy with Sydney.
*****
There are low moans coming from the corner, I look over and see that Mr. Vaughn has propped himself up. He looks a lot different than the picture of him in the mission debrief. He looked like a puppy dog in the picture, one that would never bite, but so far he's not let us take him easily. We had to shoot him up with tranquilizers just so he would stop fighting and making a scene. We have been locked up in this hotel room for about two hours, just waiting for information from Sloane.
I walk over to one of the beds and sit down next to Charles, he snakes his arm around my back and starts to rub my lower back. "Are you still sore?" I nod my head; I still haven't been fully recovered since I got rid of the baby; not physical or emotion. I thought I was prepared for anything. When I was first recruited by Irina, I was excited; her plans seemed to make sense to me. I wanted to be part of something that was against the norm. When I finally got a mission that was worth proving myself; I took it. I just never expected these types of consequences for my actions, this type of personal sacrifice.
It was my own move though; Calvin could feel that there was something wrong with our relationship. Despite how hard I tried to convince him that I loved him, he was always suspicious, so I took the ultimate risk, I got pregnant. I didn't love him, he knew it, but seemed to over look that when I was pregnant. He always wanted to be a great father and used to say he would never get a divorce once children where involved. So I exploited that in order to stay in the position I was in. I knew I wouldn't have to keep the baby, I knew this was coming, but it was very important that I stay in the position I was in until the Libya mission went down. I wonder if he finally put the pieces together that I was the traitor before he died?
I pull myself out of my reverie of thought, and walk over to Michael. Charles shakes his head and returns to watching television. Michael's still dazed on the floor, he's muttering to himself. I reach down and grab his cheeks with one hand, and lift his head so that I can look into his eyes. "I'm sorry what did you say?" He tries to wiggle free but he's too sedated to really fight my grip. He just mumbles some more and starts to drool; I've always loved torturing captives. I let go of him in a jerking motion, I walk over to the nightstand and pull a suitcase over to the corner. I place in on the table and open it up removing a small cloth satchel. I open the satchel which reveals six syringes, and a few different bottles of clear liquid.
"Now Mr. Vaughn, I have here quite a few different drugs; all meant to extract information from people. I'll start with the lightest and work my way up until I get my answers." I pull out the mildest one and fill the smallest syringe. Mr. Vaughn simply sits there trying to move his muscles to protest, but the sedative keeps him where he is. I reach down and inject the serum into him, he barely moves and seems not to even really notice it. "Mr. Vaughn, why didn't Zanna come to Virginia? Why were you sent?" He seems to ignore me, like he can't hear; it could be the drugs, so I just let him sit there. "It's only a matter of time, only a matter of time."