At first, Becky wasn't sure if she had regained consciousness or not. She thought she had opened her eyes, but everything was still black. Surely the splitting headache and the waves of pain from her shoulders and thighs had to be real though? So what the hell was going on? Then she noticed the sound of the van's engine and it all came flooding back to her. She had been snatched off the street by a team of kidnappers, at least two of whom were women. The pain was due to the fact that she had been tied up in a cruel hogtie that was now on the verge of making both her thighs go into cramp. Her shoulders were almost being wrenched out of their sockets. There was a blindfold over her eyes, which explained the blackness. And last but not least, a sock had been stuffed in her mouth to gag her, secured in place with some kind of towel tied between her teeth. It was no wonder she felt so thirsty; all of her saliva had been absorbed by the sock, which was now soaking wet in her mouth.

Desperate for the pain to stop, she moaned into the gag, hoping that her kidnappers would show some mercy. They could have secured her by tying her wrists and ankles. The hogtie really wasn't necessary. No response came, positive or negative. At least they hadn't hit her again. She could remember one of the women punching her in the side of the head after she had tried to bite the hand that had been covering her mouth when she'd first been bundled into the van.

Telling herself to try and keep calm, she attempted to ignore the pounding in her head and think about the situation she was in. Right now, she wasn't going to get free, that was for sure. The kidnappers had bound her much too securely for that. When would someone realise she was missing? When would they start looking for her? Not soon enough, she realised. She had been taken late at night, from outside her home. As she lived alone, no one would even begin to consider that anything was out of the ordinary until she failed to show up at the office in the morning. Even then, more hours would be lost while people assumed she was either late, or ill. She knew that the first few hours were crucial in a kidnapping, and apparently so did the people who had taken her. They had chosen exactly the right time to take her. By the time anyone even thought about going to her home to check on her, these people could have taken her almost anywhere. She had no idea how long she had been unconscious for, and therefore had no idea how far they might already have traveled.

Panic began to take hold again as the realisation dawned on her that help probably wasn't coming. Whoever the kidnappers were, they hadn't come this far without having somewhere in mind where they could hold her without being discovered. She was on her own, with the only hope being that she could somehow free herself, and that was about as unlikely as it could be at the moment.

If there was any kind of positive, it was that the kidnappers probably didn't want her dead. Yes, she had been threatened with a knife when she had been caught struggling against her bonds, but a couple of things definitely didn't point towards them having murder in mind. Most obvious was the blindfold. Why stop someone who you intended to kill from seeing you? It would make no difference if they saw you or not if they were going to soon be dead. And second, at least two of the team were women. That meant that rape and murder were a lot further down the list of possible motives than they would have been with a team of men. Trying to think it all through rationally, she could only surmise that these people wanted the BL-04 chip. Somehow, they must have an idea of the true value of it. They hadn't broken into the office and taken the project's data, though. Maybe they didn't plan on needing it? Maybe they were going to keep her captive somewhere where she could begin the work again, only this time they would take the chip to market themselves?

Becky was lucky that in her state of panic and confusion, she didn't think that series of potential events through to its inevitable conclusion for her. Instead she moved on to how she might make her immediate situation a little better for herself. She desperately needed to get out of the hogtie, and she needed something to drink.

"Mmmmph," she groaned into the towel again as she bit down on it in frustration.

"Quiet," a voice told her. She recognised it as the woman who had dragged her into the van.

"Mpppphh!" Becky protested even louder. She knew it was risky, but she couldn't just lie there in silence and take the pain. She opened her mouth as wide as she could, trying to force the sock out of her mouth past the towel. Unfortunately, the towel was thick enough that it expanded with her mouth as it opened and still filled the space between her teeth. There was no way she was going to be able to talk unless one of the women untied the gag for her.

"Look, we're nearly at the place we're taking you to," the same voice said. "When we get there, you can save a piss and have something to drink. Now shut the fuck up before I have to knock you out myself."

Becky had no idea if what she was being told was true. They could still be on the road for hours for all she knew. She needed something to drink now, and she needed the pain in her arms and legs to stop. Those two things were all she could think about.

"Lmmm mmmm gmmph!" she screamed as loud as she could, using all of the energy she had to strain against her bonds, not that there was almost any range of movement available to her. She sensed someone moving around in the back of the van, and hoped that they were going to relent and take the gag off. At least she would be able to plead for a drink.

"You don't seem to understand English," the second familiar voice said nastily. "You'd better learn pretty fast, because it's going to get real painful for you if you don't do what you're told. She told you to shut the fuck up."

Becky was taken by surprise by a vicious kick to the stomach. Crying out in pain, she instinctively wanted to curl up and protect herself, which was of course impossible in her predicament. It was hard enough to breathe with the towel tied in her mouth, and now the kick had driven the air out of her lungs. She whimpered pathetically as she tried her best to get air into her protesting lungs through her nose.

"There's plenty more where that came from. Now, like you were told before, shut the fuck up until we get to where we're going."

Not wanting to be hurt again, Becky lay there, wishing she could pass out again. It would be better off than enduring the rest of the journey in constant agony and fear.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably more like half an hour, she felt the van stop for a moment, then take a right turn. She could tell that they had turned off a road and were now driving on something different. Gravel, maybe? Had they pulled onto a driveway? She tensed up, guessing that they had reached their destination.

She was right, on the last point at least. Bayley had just turned the van onto a graveled track that led through a small wooded area to the wooden cabin that Ronda had rented for a week under a false name. It was the kind of place that nature freaks might come to escape the rat race for a week's vacation. There was nothing other than countryside and woodland anywhere nearby. No buildings, no people, nothing. If there was an ideal place to hold a hostage for a day, this was it. Without saying anything, she parked the van with the rear doors facing towards the cabin's entrance. It would make the next task that little bit easier for her colleagues in the back.

"Right, we're going to carry you inside now," Ronda told their captive. "Don't try struggling or screaming, or you're going to get hurt. Cooperate and you'll be fine."

Charlotte untied the rope that had hogtied Becky, leaving her wrists and ankles bound. Becky groaned in relief as Charlotte opened the van's rear doors and climbed out. Ronda followed her out, then turned and dragged Becky towards her by the ankles. Even though she tried her best not to, Becky let out a frightened protest. It was ignored as Ronda hauled her up and slung her over her shoulder, holding her legs to keep her in place.

Disoriented by the fact that her head was now upside down, Becky felt like she was going to be sick. That would be a very bad idea with a gag in her mouth, she knew.

Bayley walked over to the cabin and unlocked the door. She now had her ski mask back on, as did her two partners. Leading them inside, she made her way to one of the two bedrooms, which they had prepared as the place to keep Becky. The room had been emptied off all it's furnishings apart from the bed itself and a nightstand, on which stood a few bottles of water and several chocolate bars. That was all they would need. Something to tie Becky to, and some food and drink to satisfy her basic needs. There was also some essentials of a different nature: several more lengths of rope and a roll of duct tape. Bayley was satisfied with what she saw, reasoning that it was better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.

Ronda carried Becky into the room and lowered her onto the bed, lying on her front. "Now, you're lying on a bed. We're going to tie you to it to stop you going anywhere. That means I'm going to have to untie your wrists. Just so you know, there are three of us here, and the other two are holding knives. Trying anything clever, you're going to get cut up real bad. We want you alive, but there's no requirement for you not to be scarred for life. Understand?"

"Mmmm," Becky responded, trying to indicate that she would comply. She wasn't stupid enough to get herself attacked with a knife. At least being tied to a bed was a lot better than being left hogtied on a floor.

Ronda untied Becky's wrists, then roughly rolled her over onto her back. Charlotte grabbed one of her arms and hauled her further up the bed, so that her wrists could be passed between the framework at the head end of the bed. The two women used a length of rope each to tie Becky's wrists to the outermost bars. Just like that, their hostage was secured.

To Becky's surprise, her blindfold was then removed. The bright light from the single bulb in the ceiling blinded her at first, after not being able to see anything for so long. Blinking rapidly, her eyes adjusted in time to see one of the three figures walking out of the room. Two more stood there, looking down at her. Although they were wearing ski masks, she could tell they were both women. Either the whole team were women, or these were the two who had ridden in the back of the van with her.

"If you stay quiet, we'll take your gag off and give you something to drink." This was a new, gentler voice. So they were all women. This one must have been the driver. There was something close to sympathy in her brown eyes. Becky would think of her as the gentle one, she decided, needing some way to differentiate them from each other.

The other, taller woman had a nasty looking knife in her gloved hand, and very cold eyes. Green eyes. "Or I could just cut your fucking tongue out," she suggested. Becky decided to mentally refer to her as the bloodthirsty one. That knife had already been against her neck once, and she intended that to be her last encounter with it.

"Mmmph." She tried to convey obedience with her eyes.

"Okay," the gentle one said, leaning over the bed to work on untying the towel. The bloodthirsty one looked on, waiting for an excuse to use the knife, or so it seemed.

Mercifully, the gag was finally released, and the gentle one used two fingers to pull the sock out of her mouth. As tempting as it was, Becky resisted the urge to scream. Top priority was to have something to drink. Hopefully it would rinse the nasty taste of the detergent that the sock had been washed with out of her mouth as well.

Bayley removed the top from one of the bottles of water and held it to Becky's lips, noticing that the corners of her mouth looked sore from where the towel had rubbed against them. Holding the bottle at just the right angle to let Becky drink easily, without spilling the water everywhere, Bayley let her have the whole bottle in one hit.

"Thank you," Becky risked saying, watching the bloodthirsty one carefully. "Why am I here? What are you going to do with me?"

"Get that gag back in her mouth," the taller woman ordered her partner.

"No, please," Becky begged, but it was no use. The gentle one might not have had the same nasty streak as her friend, but she was clearly willing to do what she had to do. She picked up the sock again, and Becky saw no point in trying to prevent it being stuffed back into her mouth. It would only make them angry. The towel was then replaced, just as tightly as before.

"Sorry," the gentle one mumbled. "Can't take any risks."

Becky whimpered as she chewed down on the towel, trying to use her eyes to say that there was no risk. Inside, she cursed herself for asking questions. Maybe if she hadn't said anything, they wouldn't have re-gagged her?

"One of us will come back soon and take you to the bathroom. Maybe you can have something to eat as well. Until then, lie still and be quiet. We don't want to hurt you."

With that, both women turned and made their way out of the room. Becky raised her head to watch the door close, then heard a lock being turned. Even if she could get free, she was locked in the room. For the first time since she'd been snatched, she was alone. Looking down at her ankles, she saw how tightly the rope had been wrapped around her ankles multiple times, finished off with an elaborate knot that was never going to come loose.

Growling in frustration, she let her head fall back onto the pillow. The next thing that caught her eye was her right wrist, bound to one of the vertical bars of the bed's framework. To add to her frustration, there was a horizontal bar half way down, which prevented her from sliding her wrist down lower. If she had been able to do that, she just might have been able to stretch far enough to give herself a chance to pull the gag out of her mouth. As it was, the distance was much too great.

With another frustrated growl she tugged both wrists against their bonds as hard as she could manage. Pain was the only result. It was no good. Once again, although it was now less painful, she was helpless. Closing her eyes, she began to cry as that realisation took hold.

After leaving Bayley and Charlotte to attend to Becky, Ronda had walked into the cabin's living area to make a phone call, taking off her ski mask as she did so. It was important to keep the person who was paying them to do the job up to date on their progress. Dialing one of the two phone numbers she had been given, she discovered the phone in question was not available. That was strange. Luckily, she had a second number. When that number also failed to make a connection, Ronda knew that there might be a problem.

"What's wrong?" Charlotte asked when she and Bayley joined her, also taking off their masks.

"I just tried both of the numbers I have for Stephanie McMahon. Both phones are off. Something must be wrong."

"What makes you say that?" Charlotte asked.

Ronda gave her a withering look. Charlotte's ratio of muscle to brain power definitely wasn't equal. "She paid us a million dollars in advance to kidnap that girl in there, with another million to come. I'm going to suggest she wants her pretty badly. That tells me she would be sure to take any calls I might make."

"I don't get what's so important about some stupid computer nerd anyway. What does McMahon want her for?"

"She must be working on a project that's worth a lot of money," Bayley said, thinking that she was stating the obvious. "McMahon wants whatever knowledge is in that pretty little head of hers."

"Don't come with that lesbian shit of yours around me, Bayley," Charlotte snapped. "You know it creeps me out."

"Shut it," Ronda told her. As the leader of the group, she was obeyed. "Bayley's right. Becky Lynch is the designer of some new computer chip. When it was finished, she planned to sell it to the government, potentially for ten million dollars, maybe even more. Stephanie decided that she'd like that ten million for herself. If she simply stole the data and produced her own chip, Becky would probably be able to legally prove it was her work. I don't know how all that computer shit works. What I do know is, Stephanie plans to keep Becky in captivity while she starts the entire design process again, eventually giving McMahon Industries the chip to sell to the government. It's a simple but effective plan. At least, it's supposed to be."

"Ah, who gives a fuck?" Charlotte shrugged, walking over and sitting down on a couch. "She paid us the first million bucks, and we have the girl. It's not like McMahon's lost interest or something, is it? She'll be in contact."

"I've got to admit she's right," Bayley said, looking at Ronda. She began to peel off one of her black latex gloves.

"Stop!" Ronda ordered her quickly.

"What?"

"Don't take your gloves off. Leave them on at all times while we're here. I want no prints left behind."

"Why? Who's going to look here?" Charlotte asked.

"Why don't you let me do the thinking?" Ronda replied, with a raised eyebrow.

"My hands are sweating," Bayley mumbled.

"They'll be sweating if you get arrested, too," Ronda said. "We're taking no risks on this job, and we're leaving nothing to chance. No prints. Gloves on at all times. That's ground rule number one. While I'm at it, here are a couple more." She pointed in the direction of Becky's room. "Whoever has to take her to the bathroom, you take someone else with you into the bedroom while you untie her. You tie her hands behind her back before you leave the bedroom, and you help her with her clothes in the bathroom yourself. Is that clear?"

Both women nodded.

"And there's one more," Ronda went on. "Unless you're giving her something to eat or drink, she stays gagged at all times. No exceptions, and no feeling sorry for her. I'm looking at you, Bayley."

"I hear you," Bayley confirmed. "The gag stays on at all times."

"Good. The last thing I want is for some random asshole to come walking past here because he's spending the day taking his dog for walk and hear her screaming. There's a million dollars lying in that room, and we're not taking any chances with it. Not least because McMahon would probably have us killed if we fucked up."

"Message received," Charlotte said.

Ronda sat down beside her, letting out a deep sigh. "Bayley, why don't you go grab us all a beer from the fridge? We've had a long night."