Finally, I heard Dubaku on his cell phone, so I walked across the room and pulled the gag out of Mr. Taylor's mouth. He took in several deep breaths and moistened his dry lips.

"Sir, are you all right?" I asked, sitting down on the bed across from him.

"I'll be fine," he assured me. "Who are you?"

"My name is Elle. Elle Emerson, but I'm not important. How did you get here, Mr. Taylor?"

"It's a long story," he assured me. "We need to get out of here."

"I'm not sure how easy that's going to be, sir. That terrorist is outside the bedroom."

At that exact moment, the door to the room opened and Dubaku walked in. "I don't like being called a terrorist," he growled, his accent making his words slightly difficult to understand.

He walked over to me and grabbed my arm roughly, jerking me to my feet. I wanted to fight back, but I remembered Tony and Jack's advice and didn't object.

"You are going to tell me everything I want to know, Ms. Emerson," Dubaku declared, shoving me down into a wooden arm chair.

I didn't say anything. What could I tell him? I didn't know anything. When he pulled a knife out of his pocket, I flinched, wondering just how close death was. Instead, he merely cut the plastic tie that was binding my wrists and threw it away. Then, he walked away from me and pulled some belts out of a drawer.

My hands were trembling with fear and my mind was going over all the memories I had stored up. Especially the first time I'd seen Tony…

FLASHBACK:

I had just done a double front-flip off the high platform. My body had sliced into the water like a razor and I when I emerged, the cool water was dripping off me. My long hair was hanging in a long ponytail down the back and the minute I got out, I pulled the ponytail holder out and let my long hair hang down my back.

I picked my towel up off the bench and began drying myself off. Out of nowhere, a man with dark hair buzzed close. He was wearing jeans and a black button-up shirt. His eyes looked dark and mysterious, like he didn't trust anyone.

"Are you Elle Emerson?" he asked me, giving me one quick glance.

"Yeah, that's right." I squeezed the water out of my hair and slung it over my shoulder, not even trying to impress the strangely handsome guy. He looked older than me, but not by much.

"I've got a present from your brother," the guy told me, extending his hand to me. He was holding a package in it.

"Hang on to it for a second, will you? I've got to get dried off first," I told him, walking towards my gym bag where my was.

He followed, staying a safe distance away from me, almost as if he was wary of me.

"I haven't seen David in over five years," I remarked. "How do you know him?"

"I work with him," the guy replied shortly.

I pulled on a pair of Puma gym shorts and a thin white t-shirt over my black Speedo swimsuit, then extended my hand to him and took the manila envelope. "What's your name?" I asked.

"I'm Tony," he said, glancing around nervously.

"Tony who?"

"Almeida. My name is Tony Almeida," he finally said.

"Well, Mr. Almeida, you can stop looking around like you're not supposed to be in the girl's locker room. This is a co-ed pool, okay?"

For the first time, he gave me a half smile and I felt a strange sensation of warmth. There was something about this guy.

END OF FLASHBACK: