When Sandy awoke, she was slumped in a cushioned chair, arms sprawled on a wooden surface, face resting against her arms. She pushed herself up slowly. A pale, balding man was sitting across the table from her, faded green eyes meeting her wary gaze.
"Ah Miss Romanova. How nice to see you again. I think we started on the wrong foot. As you may remember, I am Mark Foss, and I have some questions to ask you." He leaned forward, and Sandy backed up, fast. Her chair fell back behind her, and she was halfway to the door when he stood, leaning heavily on a cane. "As you'll see, the accommodations are much more...welcoming this time around." He was walking slowly toward her, like a horror movie villain. Sandy pitched her body toward the door, and yanked at it. It opened outward, and she stumbled into a beige hallway, with grey office carpet. Two female soldiers, dressed in black, were guarding the door. At her unexpected exit, they moved to stop her, but a sharp gesture from Mark Foss stopped them. Instead they stepped to the side, effectively blocking her way on either side. Ahead of her was a ceiling-to-floor window. She was at the top floor of a multi-story office building. Black SUVs and sedans swarmed at the curb in front of the building, and as she watched, a black helicopter flew into her line of sight, and then off into the distance.
As she stood, slumped in front of the window, Foss walked up next to her. "This doesn't have to be an unpleasant experience, Miss Romanova." She looked over at him, his thin lips turned up in what was supposed to a comforting smile. She smiled back, and stepping toward, him, kneed him in the groin as hard as she could. He cried out, blood draining from his face, and she was grabbed from behind by one of the soldiers.
"That was stupid." She was thrown up against the glass with bruising force, as her hands were cuffed. Sandy fought back, kicking and screaming loudly. She managed to get an elbow in, drawing a satisfying grunt. "Fuck, Diane, subdue the bitch!" The other soldier shouted harshly. Sandy whirled toward her just in time to have her head knocked back by a sudden blow. As she slumped to the floor, she realized the two soldiers were the same from the last interrogation. Jane and Diane.
She came to still slumped in the hallway, handcuffed. Foss was standing in front of her, face a contorted mask as he hissed orders at multiple soldiers.
"Get him to answer the questions. I don't care what you have to do, it's imperative we find out what he knows. I know he's one of ours! Get creative, or I will." The soldiers retreated in silence. Sandy's heart leapt at the conversation. He had to be talking about Tyler. Which meant he was still alive. She rose slowly to her feet, moving backwards as quietly as she could. Foss was still engrossed agitated conversation, when there was a large bang and the building shook. Foss started shouting, and Sandy took advantage of the sudden distraction, rising to her feet and sprinting down the hallway. A heartbeat later, Foss' voice echoed down the hallway after her. "Catch her, you idiots!" At that, Sandy gave up on being quiet, and threw everything she had into reaching the door at the end of the long hallway.
It was marked with a sign a sign indicating stairs, and turning her body sideways so she could reach the door handle with her cuffed hands, she threw the door open and half ran, half tumbled down. She heard Foss shuffling through the door behind her.
"Romanova!" He roared. She heard a door open below her, and feet pounding up the stairs toward her. She was already two floors down. She tried the door on the landing, and it opened. She dashed through, running down a hallway that was a mirror image of the one she'd just escaped from. She ran past some conference room doors, but stopped as she heard Tyler's voice echoing loud and outraged.
"Go to hell!"
Sandy stopped, and ran back. There were no handles on the outside of these doors, so she kicked one, as hard as she could. It wasn't locked, and she fell into what appeared to be a stripped conference room. Tyler was seated in the middle of the room, hands tied behind his back. A man stood in front of him, fists curled. Three men were standing behind him, but they all looked up in surprise as Sandy burst in.
"Tyler!" She shrieked, barreling into the man standing in front of Tyler. He stumbled, and Tyler exploded into a furious movement, sweeping the chair sideways so the man fell heavily on the wooden chair frame. He groaned, and pieces of wood flew. Tyler was on his feet again, delivering devastating hits to the other two men. They cried out and fell to the ground, one holding his knee and groaning. The other two were out cold. Sandy scrambled to her feet, to see the third man lash out at Tyler, making contact with his chest. Tyler stumbled back, gasping, and Sandy launched herself at the man, screaming intelligibly. He tried to knock her aside but her feet tangled with his, and he fell. His hands went around her neck, and she kicked him as hard as she could, but she could feel his hands tightening, and she was struggling to breathe, with her hands still tied behind her back.
Suddenly there was a thud and a crack, and his head snapped sideways. Tyler stood over him, having delivered a deadly kick to his face. The man fell, and Tyler pulled keys from his pocket, quickly unshackling himself and Sandy.
"Are you okay?" She touched his bruised face.
"Yeah, they patched me up pretty well before the interrogation." He rolled his eyes, pulling up his shirt to show her the white bandage across his muscled brown chest. "It was a clean shot. I'll be okay, as long as we get the hell out of here."
"Then let's go," Sandy said, steel in her voice. Tyler pulled her back to him for a moment, running a gentle hand over her neck. His face hardened, but he kissed her gently, quickly.
"To be continued," he said, and his granite mask cracked when he smiled at her. He removed guns from the men lying on the floor and handed her one. "Shoot anyone who gets within five feet."
"What if I miss?"
"Don't." He wasn't looking at her, was already scanning the hallway. "Let's go." The hallway was empty, and Tyler led her to the stairwell, his muscular body moving swiftly and silently. Sandy followed him, her heart pounding, hands sweaty against the pommel of the gun. She refused to think about what could happen if they were caught, and instead pulled herself forcefully back to the present, following Tyler into the stairwell. He pointed down, and waved her toward the wall. He stalked into the stairwell, pressing his body against the wall. Sandy followed. After several heart-pounding minutes, they'd made their way to the ground floor. As they stealthily made their way into the long hallway adjoining the lobby, they heard the sound of angry voices, raised in argument. The language was one Sandy didn't understand, but could be Russian.
"You cheating son of a bitch!!" A woman's voice shrieked. A man's voice, somewhat familiar, responded, speaking in low, urgent Russian. There was a sudden flurry of thuds, punctuated by paint grunts, and then silence.
Tyler placed his hand on Sandy's arm silently, and pointed to a side door with 'EXIT' emblazoned in green LED lights above it. To get to the door, they would have to walk across the hallway. He brought a finger to his lips, and directed her to go first. She nodded, and taking a deep breath to gather her courage, squared her shoulders, and walked briskly across the hallway, concealing the gun she carried against her body.
"Celia! I didn't cheat!" The man's voice rang across the room, and at the mention of Celia's name, Sandy gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth. From the corner of her eye, she saw both of them looking at her. She turned her head, and came face to face with Maruc. She froze. The woman next to him turned. Sandy could see the resemblance, from her long curls to her light brown skin tone. Her eyes narrowed.
"You whore." Her English was inflected with a slightly Spanish accent. Sandy opened her mouth to speak.
"I--" and Celia leaped at her. Her fist struck Sandy's face as she shrieked at her in Spanish. There was a loud bang, and Celia collapsed on top of her. Sandy's hands were wrapped around the gun so tightly it felt as if the metal had been melded into her skin. And it hurt. She struggled to push Celia, who was clutching her stomach and moaning, to the floor. As she staggered to her feet, Celia made an ineffective grab at her, but Sandy stepped back, eyes on Maruc and Tyler, who were circling each other slowly.
"Sandy." Tyler's voice was low and dangerous, all his attention trained on Maruc, who was stalking him like a predatory jungle cat. "Get out of here. NOW!" He shouted, when Sandy didn't move. Maruc struck at that moment, so swiftly Sandy barely saw his body move. Tyler deflected the blow, and retaliated with one of his own.
