On the dock of a large boathouse, a loan figure sat, one bare foot trailing in the calm waters of the surrounding marina. Kensi had found the quiet stretch of dock a welcome and peaceful refuge from the usual pandemonium that accompanied the life of a federal agent. It was hidden from the road so that the majority of the L.A. population passed it by without even seeing it, but it only took seconds to get back into the NCIS boathouse if needed.
After she had struck Deeks, Kensi knew she had to get away from the Mission. She still could see the startled faces of Callen, Sam, Eric, Nell and even Hetty in her mind's eye as she had stormed off, and she knew that staying would only mean she would have to deal with their reactions.
A residual spark of pain traveled up Kensi's left arm and she clenched her fist, forcing down the cry of pain that threatened to bubble up at any second. The scar cut across her vision like an angry red river, and her fist clenched tighter, the surrounding flesh turning white.
"Hurts, does it not?"
Kensi jumped, nearly pitching into the water. The voice was cold, calculating and darkly familiar, and it sent a chill to her very core. Very slowly, Kensi turned, coming face-to-face with none other than Nikolai Arieh, the very man out to kill her. How did he…? She wasn't even able to complete that thought before his hands were around her throat and she was violently thrown to the ground. Her head hit the dock with enough force to completely disorient her. She saw double, and was unable to even raise an arm before Nikolai was on her, his knee digging into her chest. He leaned in close, his body odor heavy and rank on her face- it smelled as if someone had soaked dog shit in stale beer and left it out for a week. She would have gagged if she could breathe. Nikolai took that moment to lean closer, his foul breath washing over her and making the smell even worse.
"I wait long time for this, Kensi Blye." Nikolai hissed through his thick Russian accent. "You will pay for Nazar's death. I make you beg to die. And no one will hear you scream." With that, he stuck a needle into her neck. Before she could draw one more breath, Kensi was dragged under to darkness.
…
The darkness was reluctant to release Kensi, clinging to her with black tendrils. She struggled free, opening her eyes slowly. At first, everything was foggy and unclear, and it took several tries to clear her vision completely. The first thing that she noticed was she was handcuffed to a chair that appeared to be bolted to the ground of an abandoned warehouse. Her world was still spinning, and her head pounded in time with her heaving stomach. A door slammed open, making her jump and wince at the pain it sent through her head.
"You woke." Nikolai's voice sent a chill down Kensi's spine and she stiffened, trying to pull away from the odious man. He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, exposing her throat to the cold steel of a knife blade that he had produced from somewhere. He ran the blade gently down the skin of her throat, drawing a thin line of blood. Kensi hissed, desperately trying to get away from Nikolia's knife. The man pulled her closer. "Now, time for fun."
He then stabbed the knife into Kensi's left arm, dragging it to follow the scar already formed there. Kensi through her head back and screamed while Nikolai laughed. Hot blood streamed down her arm as the knife completed its path and lifted, bringing a brief respite from the pain. Nikolai brought his face closer to Kensi's, a smile cutting across his ragged features. "You will pay for Nazar, woman. You and that bitch daughter of Eli. You will be first, and then I tear her apart, starting with her family. But first you. You will beg for death."
"Do you only know those phrases Niki, or are you just infatuated with the whole idea of making me beg?" Kensi spat through gritted teeth, determined not to let the pain get to her. His response was to slap her across the face.
"Don't call me Niki!" he roared, spittle flying everywhere. He raised the knife and slashed at her shoulder, opening the muscle beneath. Kensi suppressed a groan, biting her tongue. She refused to appear weak in front of her tormentor and grinned instead, ignoring the pain it caused.
"That all you got you bastard? I've taken worse hits in the gym."
Nikolai's arm twitched, looking as if he might strike once more, but he took a breath and merely tapped the knife against the chair and smiled a shark's smile. The hairs on the back of Kensi's neck stood straight up. This cooler, calmer version of Nikolai was infinitely more frightening than his enraged side-this side was crafty, more conniving and much more difficult to stop.
"Oh, I have more. But now you should rest. You be ready for more fun later." He moved out of Kensi's line of sight. She felt a needle prick her neck, and she blacked out once more.
…..
Kensi slowly woke, this time on a filthy mattress instead of tied to a chair. The room was dimly lit from a window too high to reach and too small to squeeze through. The room was small, no larger than a walk-in closet, made up entirely of concrete and cinderblock. The door was made of steel, and only a small hole, too small to even fit her pinkie in, was all that she could see of the lock.
No way out.
Kensi would have struck the wall in frustration, but as she sat up, her head spun and the lacerations on her body throbbed as one. She wanted nothing more than to drift back into the bliss of unconsciousness, but she knew she might not wake again if she did. Idly, she wondered why she wasn't still bleeding, and lifted her scarred arm to her face, fighting back the wave of nausea that accompanied the movement. Crude stitches crossed the angry red line on her forearm, and when she felt her shoulder, coarse stitching met her searching fingers. A sigh escaped, and the sigh turned into a sob. Tears ran down Kensi's face as she struggled to hold back the howl that threatened to escape from her lips. She was trapped, in pain, and this madman was simply keeping her alive only so he could continue to torture her further.
Another sob broke from her throat, and dizziness threatened to overwhelm Kensi. She flopped back onto the mattress and might have fainted had not the door slammed open, startling her. The shadow of a man's body caused Kensi to shrink back like a trapped animal. Her heart hammered, sweat dripped down her forehead and her breath came in short gasps. Fear filled her, keeping her sharp, but the shadow did nothing more than stand for a few brief moments before throwing something into the room and slamming the door shut once more. Kensi pulled back as far as she possibly could, holding her breath, waiting for harm.
Nothing happened. The object remained static and Kensi cautiously crept forward, ready to bolt at any movement. Stretching out her index finger, she tentatively touched the unknown thing and encountered what felt like simple plastic. She ran more of her hand over the plastic and realized a bowl had been placed in her cell. Further searching found a spoon, and, after a few seconds of fumbling, she pulled out a spoonful of some liquid-like food to her mouth. She nearly spat it all out the minute it touched her tongue; it was bland, tasteless, bitter and tasted like wet sawdust. However, it was food, and she needed some sort of sustenance to survive if she wanted to ever escape this terror. Bite by bite she forced the food down her protesting mouth, finishing as fast as she could without gagging.
The food stuck to her throat, and Kensi could not find any water to drink. Coughing, she struggled to swallow the remnants down before she could spit them back up. Eventually she succeeded, and, head spinning, she turned her attention to the utensils that had been given to her. She tested both the spoon and the bowl, trying to see if either could be utilized as a weapon. As she bent and tried them, the spoon, and then the bowl, snapped in her hands, proving to be useless. Kensi swore, but bolstered by her short spurt of strength, she slowly crawled around the small room, trying to find something, anything that could be used to help her escape from Nikolai's hated grasp. Her stumbling steps and groping fingers found nothing, and soon she was slumped once more on the dingy mattress, the earlier burst of adrenaline- fueled energy completely spent, and the blood loss became too much to bear.
Kensi's breath came faster and faster, hissing as the pain and helplessness became overwhelming. She curled into a fetal position, gasped, and then a scream, carrying every emotion that she was feeling inside ripped out and filling the air with her agony. She hurled the plastic pieces against the door. Her scream was cut short by a sound outside, and she weakly drew back, trying to prepare herself.
Before she could process it, the door burst open and Nikolai stepped into the room, a cold sneer on his face.
"Game time" he growled, and then pointed a gun directly at Kensi's head.
