URIAH

Celebrating

Chapter 23

The cold concrete floor against my cheek sends alarms to my brain. Something is not right. It takes me a few seconds until I can open my eyes.

I am surrounded by rusty, dilapidated concrete walls. The room is enormous. Probably the same dimensions as my house's first floor.

I put one hand on the ground and I push myself off the floor. As if I was doing push-up, I put a lot of strength and effort in the movement. In doing so, I notice my ring is back on my finger. I had taken it off during the operation. I look down at my legs folded behind me and my chest. I am wearing my own clothes. They must have changed me back into these after I was able to start moving post-surgery. I touch the back of my head. There is no gauze and barely any bump from the stitches. It's almost healed.

How long have I been in here?

I look around the cold dungeon I have all for myself and notice an intercom next to the door. First, I try opening the door because we never know what kidnappers have in store for us. I pull on the handle in vain, the door being locked like I thought. The intercom was the right way to go. I press on the button and speak through it.

"I need help," I start calmly. "I don't know where I am or who put me here, but Tito, if you're the one listening, get your ass in here, ahora!"

I wait a few seconds. Tito walks in with his grey, striped suit and Italian shoes looking sharp as ever. I still hate him and he is still and ugly old man on the inside and out.

"Fancy seeing you here. Awake and well. I wS hoping that would have come later rather than sooner."

With a sarcastic grimace and chuckle, I lift my middle finger up.

He laughs. "I assume you did not call me in here just to flip me off," he says in a smug tone, with his legs apart and his hands in his pockets. He's walking around me like he owns me.

"Where are we, Tito? Are we still under the Vatican?"

"That depends on who 'we' is?"

"Don't mess with me. Where is Nathan?"

"He's been asking the same thing about you."

In frustration, I run my hand through my hair running my finger over my scar by accident reminding of it.

"How long since I've woken up, Tito? How long have I been in this room?"

"It is December 24th, Sam. A very important night here in Vatican City. Nathan isn't very religious so we went sent him elsewhere. Probably over the Atlantic right now."

I am completely confused. "Tito, start talking in a way that will make sense to me or so help me God."

"Okay, stop. Stop using his name in vain, we're under the Vatican, sweetheart."

I sigh. I feel like no one is listening to me. It is the loneliest feeling every and I think it shows across my face. Tito almost looks like he feels bad for me.

"Okay, listen. Rodrigo was said to be killed in FBI custody."

My breath catches in my throat.

"Now, I don't know how much of that I believe. The son of the bitch has nine lives, but hey asked Nathan to go in to identify him."

I shake my head. "How in the world did the FBI get in the contact with Nathan? I don't know if you remember, but we are being kept prisoner under the Vatican. Oh, and eum, he had a brain-altering surgery too, so..."

"Funny," he says dryly. "I have a contact in the FBI who told me they urgently needed to see Nathan. Since Rodrigo was involved, I gave him the benefit of the doubt and turned off the signal interrupter which was the reason no one could trace you. Don't worry. It was a very coordinated, split-second job. Even if your precious little Benito was sitting behind a computer at that moment, he still couldn't have had the time to trace you."