Crimson

Chapter 2

Toby

Heat. Gasoline. Sweat.

The usual dehydration from slumber accompanied by a dull headache alerted me that I was still very much alive. For how long, only God knows. I didn't feel like myself. My body felt heavy like someone had put a backpack full of stones on my person. Despite the resistance I receives from my own body, I forced myself to open my eyes. Immediately, I was blinded by a harsh white light. Shit. I tried to avert my eyes, but the light was everywhere. Once my eyes had adjusted, I, briefly, surveyed my surroundings. The floor was that of concrete, but it wasn't the average concrete. Rather, it was that god-awful concrete-rubber mix that had a vile smell that gave me a headache. Worn, faded, red walls with aged stainless steel reinforcements and a high ceiling surrounded me, but I couldn't see any doors which put me further on edge. I closed my eyes and focused on the surrounding noise to gather some information on my whereabouts. From the whipping of the wind against the edifice, the occasional rumble of a car's engine, the scratching of a few tree branches against the roof, and the pungent scent of fertilized mulch I gathered that I was in an old warehouse possibly along the countryside.

From the inside, I heard muffled movement and chatter off in the distance. Maybe the warehouse was actually in the city but the ambiance was designed to throw me off, or the men who abducted me were nearby in a neighboring building. Either way, I knew that I needed to plan my exit. I looked down and noted the zip ties that were fastened around my wrists and ankles binding me to the folding chair. With enough force, I would be able to break free from the restraints, but perhaps that's what the enemy intended. I needed a contingency and closed my eyes to focus. I was in the process of putting one together when a deliciously sweet yet enchanting fragrance danced across my senses. I opened my eyes, again, and instead of being blinded by the harsh white light, I was met by a masked sylphlike woman clothed in a black turtleneck dress that hugged her figure with a slit that stopped at the apex of her sheer stocking covered thigh with a rather dark colored lipstick on her full lips whose thick, wavy, chestnut-colored hair fell just beyond her shoulders and met in the middle of her back.

She parted her lips and began, in a velvety voice that had a hint of a Western European accent, to say, "Mr. Stone, I'm both impressed and repulsed by your performance tonight. You've dispatched my assets, and they usually have no problem with any of their assignments." She paused and began a slow walk around me sizing me up. Once she was done appraising me the woman continued, "So, tell me, Mr. Stone. How is it that a man with your skill set is still working as a babysitter for dear old Uncle Sam?" My face remained placid. I knew she was testing me to see if I would break or possibly ask to be released. Unfortunately, she was not going to receive that sort of satisfaction on my account. "I don't like to kiss and tell, sweetheart. You know where my loyalties lie," I stated flatly the malice evident. A smile stretched across her lips and her pupils dilated as she took a step close enough to where she violated my personal space as she said, "You should be very careful with how you talk to me, Mr. Stone because I won't hesitate to hurt that pretty face of yours." She took a small step back as she straightened up the tips of her fingers grazing my cheek before she said, "Now, I am going to give you three options: First, you give me the list of assets that are embedded within our ranks, and, in exchange, we will spare your friend's life and yours. The next is to retrieve that dossier through more unpleasant discourse and you both die. Of course, you would watch us end your friend's life first. And, the last option I am able to negotiate is that you join our ranks. I see promise in you, and we will snuff the moles out." 

She backed away and took up a post right in front of me. I could tell that she was giving me time to decide. There was no need as my allegiance was to the men undercover within their ranks. Something about what she didn't say stuck out to me. Friend. She couldn't mean... There was a clang of metal in the distance followed by men talking. The metal door flew open with an unconscious blindfolded woman being carried across a bulky guard's shoulder like the pelt of slain game with a mighty hunter showing off his prize. My pulse quickened as I realized who the woman was. Alana had survived the explosion, or maybe she was taken beforehand. I felt a pang of dread and guilt in my chest as I looked at her.  No longer were we responsible for our lives. There was a call I needed to make, and it involved me becoming her savior or executioner. Unfortunately, I was the executioner. I steeled myself as the guard placed Alana on the floor gently beside me and turned to the woman who smirked then nodded. With a thunderous back-handed slap from the guard, Alana woke up in a jolt from the stinging pain and shock of the slap. Smirking, the woman cooly explained, "The gentleman sitting beside you will either be the reason you die or survive today, girl. I'd strongly advise that you aid him in coming to a decision because it is life-or-death, specifically, your life.