WARNING!
Some of the parts in this chapter are somewhat graphic, so read at your own discretion.
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.
Kensi raised her hands in a futile attempt to protect herself from the looming weapon. Part of her brain screamed at her to run, to fight, do anything to protect her from the impending bullet, but her pain-weakened body would not, could not respond. Her breath came fast and shallow, and she closed her eyes and waited for her imminent death.
It never came.
Instead, Nikolai let out a growling laugh. "Ah ha ha! You are much fun to play with" he roared. His sickening stench rolled over Kensi in waves as he leaned forward and grabbed her hair. He smiled a gruesome smile, his yellowed and stained teeth mere inches from her face. Kensi stared back challengingly, her old fighting spirit rising. Hell would freeze over before she let this son of a bitch break her.
With that in mind, she whipped her head forward as quickly as she could, slamming her forehead into the bridge of Nikolai's nose. Blood spurted out almost immediately, and her captor reared back with a roar. Nikolai began screaming what sounded like foreign obscenities before he whipped the butt of his handgun around to strike the side of Kensi's jaw. She grunted at the fresh wave of pain that accompanied the gash on her cheek and three molars that she spat out. Before she had time to recover, Nikolai pushed Kensi back and kicked her in the chest, sending her crashing to the floor. A second kick to the solar plexus drove all of the air out of her lungs in a heavy whoosh. The third kick cracked several ribs and she faded out, her mind going to a happier time to escape the pain.
She's lying on yet another Los Angeles beach, wearing nothing more than a sun hat, designer sunglasses and a skimpy two-piece bikini. The team is performing an undercover operation to meet an incredibly paranoid and elusive confidential informant of Deeks' who had hinted that he could provide crucial information for their current case involving stolen military weapons. Deeks is sitting next to her, waxing his board, his normally shaggy blonde hair plastered flat on his head after a run through the waves. Occasionally, he stops to gaze at the sea, a contented look on his face.
"What are you grinning at?" Kensi ask, cocking her eyebrow. "If it's that top-heavy beach bunny again, I'm going to slap you." Deeks only widens his grin.
"For your information, I am not checking that nice girl out, even if it's really none of your business. I'm actually just watching the ocean. It calms me." Those last words are so honest, so open, that Kensi is actually rendered speechless. Deeks appears to see this look, but he simply continues, regardless.
"Whenever I have a problem, or something goes wrong, or, hell, when I just need someplace to think, I go out to surf. There's something about the motion, the challenge of the waves, that just makes things well, better I guess." He turns to her then, his blue eyes surprisingly gentle…
An icy blast of cold water snapped Kensi out of her pleasant memory like a brutal slap to the face. She gasped, only to have pain streak up her side and across her cheek. Her ribs were definitely broken, and she could barely move her mouth for the pain caused by her lacerated cheek. As she came further around, Kensi felt a shooting pain travel up and down her arms. She looked up to find them stretched brutally above her head to bear the full weight of her abused body.
To take her mind off of the lancing agony, Kensi looked out to the shadows surrounding her and caught sight of Nikolai's familiar outline faintly illuminated by the feeble light seeping through a dirty window high above his head. Nikolai didn't move, didn't speak, but his inactivity made Kensi shrink back as much as her aching arms would allow her to. Something was up, and all she knew was that it would be bad.
Very bad.
Her rambling thoughts were abruptly broken by the popping hiss of a match being lit. The sound was as powerful in the close confines of the tiny room as a 50-calibar gunshot, and the bright flare of the light drew Kensi's eyes. The dancing flame was small, but it still managed to cut gruesome-looking shadows across Nikolai's cold face before he touched it to something. The unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke filled the air as the tip of the rolled paper caught. Nikolai smiled cruelly as he blew a blast of smoke towards Kensi, making adrenaline surge through her body. Suddenly she realized what was going to happen and all attempts at putting on a brave face are abandoned.
"Oh, god, no, please, don't! Don't do it!"
She continued this litany over and over as Nikolai stepped forward and his rough hands tore away her shirt and bra, leaving her breasts bare and exposed to the cold, dank air. Nikolai raised the cigarette…
Kensi's begging turned abruptly to animalistic screams as Nikolai pressed the scorching butt into her flesh. The smell of burning skin filled the air as Kensi shrieked over and over, the sound accompanied by the maniacal laughter of her captor.
It didn't take long for Kensi to fall into a pained stupor and lose count of the number of times the cigarette burned her flesh. Over and over the burning tip seared her skin, over and over she howled until finally, finally it became too much and she gratefully passed into quiet blissful oblivion.
…..
The pain was so intense when Kensi awoke that she began screaming the split second she fully came around. She writhed shamelessly, her hands desperately clawing at thin air, seeking an escape from the agony that wracked her entire body. She only just registered that she was back in the cell-like room, lying on the same filthy mattress, her torso still stripped of her clothing, yet covered up in a rough blanket. Every part of her battered body felt as if it were on fire, sending waves of pain to her exhausted brain with each rapid heartbeat. Once more her hand whipped through the empty air.
This time, however, another hand grasped Kensi's with iron strength. She let out a bark of pain and fear, thinking that Nikolai was back for more torture, but when she turned her head, she met the eyes of a woman at least twice her age. The woman's reddish-brown hair was streaked with silver, and her deep-set hazel eyes looked tired, deeply frightened, and yet there was a deep sense of empathy radiating from them for the younger woman laying weakly in front of her.
Gently, the older woman put Kensi's arm down and reached into a bucket and pulled out a dripping towel, gently laying it her badly burned breasts. From the pulling on her jaw and her chest, she realized that someone, likely the woman, had sewn the laceration shut and bound her broken ribs. Kensi closed her eyes when she realized she was being fixed up once more so she could be tortured further.
"Please…" the pain from her bashed ribs was almost too much, but she pushed on. "Please… just let me… let me be." She couldn't, wouldn't survive another round of torture, at least not without breaking down and begging for death. If she was left alone with her wounds, maybe, just maybe, she would fall into the bliss of unconsciousness and never wake again.
"Let me die, please." she whispered again. She tried to lock eyes with the woman, but this time she looked away, although there was obvious self-loathing in every movement of her body.
"I… I cannot." The woman's voice was soft, with an East European accent and yet it contained a heavy note of bitterness that bespoke of deep grief and hatred for what she was doing. "He has my daughter. If I do not as he says, she will be…" Nikolai's voice barked a command from outside the door, and the woman jumped. She quickly responded in Russian, and then continued on Kensi's wounds as his ominous footsteps faded into silence.
Tears leaked from Kensi's eyes as she realized the futility of her situation. Suddenly a pair of warm hands folded over Kensi's weak ones. The older woman's hazel eyes locked into Kensi's and a sudden and surprising intensity flared up.
"Do not give up. Never give up. He wants you to. If you give up, he wins. I gave you what I can to manage the pain, but you have to be strong." The woman lifted Kensi's head gently and placed a pillow-like object under her head.
"Please…" Kensi murmured, "Who are you?"
The woman looked at the door when Nikolai's voice barked once more. She began to stand, and Kensi wondered if she would remain anonymous, but then, in a voice so soft it was barely audible she replied, "I am Rozalia. Rozalia Jaskolski" Then, just as Rozalia was ready to leave, she grasped Kensi's hands once more, and something hard slipped between their joined hands before Rozalia quickly scurried to the door, where she was met by a stern-faced Nikolai, who spoke in a harsh voice to her before leering at Kensi and shutting the door with a bang.
Exhausted, in complete agony, Kensi lay back on the dirty mattress with a groan, too tired to even cry. As her hand flopped down, she came across her shirt and bra, and with slow, shaky movements she put them on her sore body with a sigh. Finally, she lifted the object Rozalia had given to her close to her face. It was a scalpel. A weapon.
Although she wouldn't let it go far, Kensi felt hope begin to spark in her chest.
Maybe she could, no, she would get out of this hell.
Again, I'm sorry for the long wait, but I'm also in the middle a huge assessment, so it's touch-and-go each night for writing.
Please review!
Yeah, sure, you becha!
