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Chapter 12

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Kudos and BBC. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

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 "This life's dim windows of the soul distorts the heavens from pole to pole, and leads you to believe a lie when you see with, not through, the eye."

- William Blake

Alexa was dreaming, lost in a sea of faces she did not recognize.  As she looked about the hall, she sought Liam’s face and saw him sitting on one of the chairs by the wall.  Next to him was Nadia, taking her babysitting duties quite seriously as Alexa worked the room like she always did in such events.  

This time, it was some sort of gala, a fundraiser for her foundation, Found Hope, but no one in the crowd was a familiar face.  Yet everyone was looking at her, staring at her and she wondered if she had worn something inappropriate, or nothing at all. 

Something told her that this was no dream - that this was a memory.  Only now she felt like a stranger was looking in.  

Alexa looked down at herself and saw that she was wearing a deep teal gown, one that accented her slim waist and long legs in the way the long folds fell to the floor, each vertical fold accentuating her slim figure.  One of her late mother’s diamond necklaces graced her neck, the glistening stone resting coldly between her breasts.  She wondered why she was wearing such  a revealing dress at such a respectable event, and as she looked up, she saw a man coming towards her, a knowing smile on his face.

Alexa recognized him immediately, though something told her to look away, and pretend she barely knew him.  He had come by the office that afternoon, saying he was picking up some brochures for his company that had just moved into London.  Tall, with graying hair cropped close to the scalp, the man wore dark framed glasses that accented a set of friendly looking eyes and an easy smile.  He wore a pretty expensive suit under an equally expensive wool coat.  

He had acted a little familiar with her and her employees at the office, something that unnerved Alexa.  As his gaze had flicked towards her that afternoon, she felt a shiver travel down her spine.  He’s looked at me like before, she had thought then, and looked away.  Should I know him?

To Nadia, he had smiled at her in a way that made the girl tremble so that Nadia had to excuse herself to work in the back room where the only thing that had to be done was sort old clothing supporters donated.

When her employees, both of them Russian, urged him to speak in English, he insisted in speaking only in Russian, asking them penetrating questions about where they were from, what village they grew up in and where they had been taken prior to their rescue.  And he had done it all with the same easy smile on his lips, yet Alexa could see that behind the friendly eyes was a cold and calculating man.  Should I know him?

After he had left the office, Nadia returned to her desk.  The girl was still shaking, her hands trembling as she picked up a pen to write something on a report.

“Do you know him?” Alexa  had asked and Nadia looked up, startled.  

“No.  No, I don’t know him.”

“Why were you afraid of him?”

Nadia shrugged.  “He just, how do you say it in English, creeps me out.”

Alexa nodded, touching Nadia’s shoulder.  “I understand,” she said and walked towards the front door to shut it, the old wood frame having expanded from the recent damp rain, and the door was refusing to shut completely again.

At this fundraiser gala a few hours later, here he was walking towards her, an appreciative look in his eyes as he surveyed her from head to foot.  Alexa felt naked beneath his gaze and she wished she had something to cover herself with, but it was too late.

He stood before her now, a smile on his lips.  He looked at her again as if he knew her so well.  She could see it in his eyes, that certain familiarity of a hunter watching its captive prey.  Didn’t she just meet him that afternoon?  She asked herself, finding herself adrift in a sea of memories.

“Miss George,” he said in his heavily accented Russian.  “How very nice to meet you again.  I thoroughly enjoyed your talk tonight.  You are a very intelligent and beautiful woman.”

In the darkness of the boot of the car, Alexa stirred as she lay on her side, her head feeling like it were about to split in two.  This wasn’t a dream, she thought to herself.  It was like she was straddling the veil between what was real and what wasn’t.  What she had just seen and heard had been real.  It had happened.  She struggled to remember when, and after a few minutes, she did, though she remained asleep.  

It was less than two months ago, when she’d passed the reins of her foundation to the board of directors.  An invitation-only event that had brought out bigger foundations with similar goals such as hers.   

She felt her body rolling in the darkness of the trunk that held her and this time, she knew she was awake but barely.  The darkness  was broken by streams of red and white lights from the signal lights on either side of the hood.  Her bare feet touched cold metal and cheap upholstery.  Alexa’s head hit something hard as the car screeched to a stop and she groaned, her head feeling like it were about to explode.

Outside, she heard a man yelling in Russian.  She made out a few words, but the pain in her head made her feel weak, and soon Alexa passed out into the darkness of her dreams.

“Mr. Arkady Kachimov,” her dream self said, extending a hand towards the tall smiling man.  He brought her hand to his lips and she felt the goosebumps travel along her arm as she pulled it away.  

“I don’t remember giving you an invitation,” she said coldly, not caring about propriety or manners.  His visit at her office that afternoon had unnerved her.  It was the way he had looked at her.  It was as if he knew her secrets.  

“I apologize,” Arkady said, smiling and tilting his head.  “I was able to, how do you say it, finagle an invitation to this event.”  He looked around, nodding.  “I’m quite impressed, Miss George.  You know many people in high places.”

“The board of directors do, Mr. Kachimov.  I don’t.  I’m simply a small fish in a big pond, as they say.”  She tried her best to be civil to him, but Alexa couldn’t help but feel a chill run up and down her spine no matter how she tried to brush off the feelings of animosity that never failed to creep up every time he looked at her.  The question rose again, Should I know him?

“I made a donation to your foundation,” he began, as if he hadn’t heard what she said.  “It’s the least I can do.  In my country, many girls are not as lucky as you, I hear.  And as long as your foundation offers to help the ones who manage to get out alive, and give them a new life, I will forever be a supporter.”

“That is kind of you, Mr. Kachimov,” she said.  “I hope you made donations to the other foundations as well.  The need is great.” 

She began to walk away but Arkady said something else that made her stop and turn back towards him.  

“You were indeed very lucky to have someone from MI5 find you in Moscow, were you not, Miss George?” Kachimov said.  “Did you happen to know his name?  If it were me, I would personally thank the man for saving you and bringing you back to England.  You are such a gift to this world.”

“You are a man of flattery, Mr. Kachimov, but I’m afraid I’m going to disappoint you.”  Alexa’s heart began to thunder inside her chest as she stared at him.  “I never found out his name,” she lied.  

“That’s unfortunate,” Arkady said, his lips turning downwards.  “But yet you are so fortunate, Miss George, to have such connections within British Intelligence.  They were able to help you leave Moscow, yes?”

Alexa frowned.  “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid your information is so wrong.  I have no connections whatsoever with British Intelligence.”  She began to turn away again.  There was something about Arkady Kachimov that told her that he was a dangerous man, someone who used secrets to his advantage.  Alexa wondered if he collected secrets as a hobby.

“But Harry Pearce is your godfather, isn’t he?” Kachimov continued.  “Someone here mentioned it just a few minutes ago. I thought that was quite interesting, him being director of the Counter-Terrorism Department of MI5.”

“I doubt if anyone in this room knew that information, Mr. Kachimov, but I will give you the benefit of the doubt.”  Alexa felt the anger rise, her face reddening at the thought of him prying into her business.  

Though Harry had brought her foundation to the attention of people he knew when she first started Found Hope, his connection to her as her godfather had always been something between the closest of friends.  As far as Alexa knew, only Harry’s people in Section D knew that.  

“Maybe you did hear it from somebody here tonight, but my relationship with Mr. Pearce is strictly none of anyone’s business.”

Arkady smiled, his eyes appraising her with renewed interest.  “Now I understand why he liked you,” he murmured.  “You’re a matryoshka.”

“Pardon me,” Alexa said, her voice rising slightly.  “What did you say?”

Arkady looked up, as if startled.  “Forgive me, Miss George.  I’m simply an old man talking to himself.”

Alexa sighed and took a step backward, tired of the game he was playing.  “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mr. Kachimov,” Alexa said and walked away, not caring if she was rude to the man or not.  

He had stepped over the line, she thought.  His conversation was meant to elicit reactions from her and she had fought so hard to keep her surprise at bay, to remain calm before him.  She had learned that from Harry - to never show weakness, or surprise, to the enemy.  Alexa had been right to be cautious around Arkady.  He had shown her just how dangerous he was by letting her know the things he knew about her and Harry Pearce.  

Just then Alexa felt a tug by her side and she looked down to see Liam, looking quite dashing in his tuxedo.  His dark hair had been recently trimmed and she had used some gel to keep it parted to one side, which made him look quite a lady’s man, as she had teased him earlier.  

But right now, Liam looked utterly bored.

“Can we go home now?” He asked.  Liam was holding a hand-held game console in his hand, but even that had failed to entertain him tonight.  “I’m really tired.”

Liam rubbed his eyes but Alexa raised an eyebrow at him.  “I’m sure when we get home, your exhaustion will dissolve as soon as you get to your room and you’ll spend all night playing your games.”

Liam frowned but said nothing.  He looked away, his shoulders slumping exaggeratedly.

“Can you give mum just a few more minutes to say good-bye to friends?” She asked him, bending down to address him as she stared at his face.  His blue eyes looked back at her and he shrugged, sighing as he did so. 

“If you have to,” he said pouting.

Alexa laughed.  “Don’t be a brat,” she said and kissed him on the cheek.  

Suddenly Alexa felt someone by her side.  She straightened up to see herself facing Arkady again, his eyes studying Liam intently.  A smile slowly crept on Arkady’s face, a knowing and mysterious smile, as if he were a cat who had just swallowed the canary.

“What a beautiful child you have, Miss George,” he said.  “He reminds me of someone I know very well.”

This time, Alexa ignored him.  She turned her back to him, pulling Liam along with her as they waded through the crowd of patrons and headed for the door.  She hadn’t even bothered to say good-bye to anyone.   She was unable to speak for a few minutes, even as she waited for the limo to arrive and drive them home.  

As Liam buried himself in the game he played on his console, Alexa’s mind only screamed two words again and again.    

He knows he know he knows.

Suddenly the car screeched to a stop and Alexa’s body slammed against the back seat of the car.  She heard the sound of people, muffled against the metal and the upholstery.  She began to pound on the roof of the trunk of the car, screaming.

She heard voices speaking in Russian.  She recognized Mikhael’s voice.  Her heart stuck in her throat as she heard him say the words. 

“Get the boy!”

Then she heard a scream.  It was a child’s scream.  Liam’s scream.  

Alexa beat her hands against the hood, her bare feet pounding painfully against the metal as she screamed and cried, her voice echoing inside the trunk.  She could hear a scuffle, the sound of something being thrown into the car and her heart sank.  Yet her child continued to scream, yelling no no no and Alexa screamed back the same words.  

“Leave him alone, you bastard,” she screamed, crying.

Tears streamed from her eyes as she heard the sound of cursing.  Suddenly it had become quiet and Alexa stopped screaming to listen to the sounds but she heard nothing else.  Her heart was pounding so loudly against her chest, her blood pulsing through the veins along her temples.  Liam had stopped screaming.  

Then the car lurched forward and they were speeding along the streets now.  Alexa brought her ears against the back of the seats, straining to listen as voices began to talk, arguing with each other.

“Fool!  You let him go!” Mikhael said, adding a few more insults as the car sped along.

“I could not help it,” said the second man. “He slipped out of the coat.”

The car was speeding now, and Alexa felt herself being hurled from one end of the trunk to the other as the car swerved this way and that way for a few minutes.  She held down the nausea that threatened to overcome her, her hands seeking for something to hold onto in her cramped prison.  

She wondered where they were driving to but it was no use to guess in the darkness.  Then the realization hit her hard, and she could not believe it.  Liam had slipped out of the coat, the second man said.

Alexa began to laugh even as the tears continued to stream down her face.  Liam had gotten away.  Her little boy had escaped.  He was safe from the madman.  

After a few minutes, the swerving had ceased and Alexa could tell that they were finally on some major road.  She tried to remain as calm as possible.  As long as Liam was safe, she knew she could find a way out of this mess.  

She took a few deep breaths to calm herself.  She had to find a way out.  Alexa began to run her hands through the edge of the cheap carpet where she lay, pulling it upwards with one hand so her other hand could search for some type of handle.  Some cars often had a little alcove where tools such as tire irons or crowbars were stored, she thought.  Surely she’d find something here.

After a few minutes of searching, she found what she was looking for.  She found a screwdriver, and something else.  Her fingers curled over a metal bar and she studied it with her other hand, like a blind man identifying an item.  She was as good as blind inside the trunk anyway, she thought.  But at least this time she was armed.

Alexa lay the crowbar on the carpet in front of her as she faced the opening of the trunk.  She wasn’t waiting for Mikhael to get to his destination and do whatever he wished with her.  Not again.  The last time she had waited, she had found herself in hell for six months.  

With her fingers, Alexa began to feel for the trunk latch, using the screwdriver to pry it open but after a few minutes, she realized it was useless.  The signal and brake lights were her other option.  

Using the screwdriver, Alexa began to pry the panel that concealed the lights, its edges illuminated from the outside each time the car slowed down or signaled.  She slipped the screwdriver between the space and grunted as she pushed against the tool, hearing the metal snap open just when she was about to throw up from the motion sickness again.  

She could see the wires now.  She took the crowbar and began to push it against the lights, hoping that the lights would pop out of the exterior and she’d be able to break the light cover with the crowbar.  

From the silence of the trunk, she froze when she heard a name mentioned from the front of the car.  Mikhael was saying a name, asking the second man if he’d heard from him since last night.

Arkady, Mikhael had said.  There was no mistaking what she had heard.

Alexa began to work frantically now, slamming the end of the crowbar through the space where the light fixture was positioned.   Maybe she’d have enough space to stick her hand out and signal some one in the cars behind this one for help.  If Arkady was involved, that meant she was on borrowed time.  

The question returned, clear to her this time.  Do I know him?

And the answer, like a sound of breaking glass in a still quiet room.  Yes.

She heard the bulb break against the light cover, kept pushing till she smashed the cover itself.  She kept breaking the glass till she could see the road behind her, and yards away, the cars.  Alexa slipped her hand through the space, feeling the metal edges scrape and cut through her skin.  

She stifled a cry of pain as blood began to seep from her wound, but she had to do this.  Alexa knew she had no other choice.  Either she did this, or she’d die.  

It was as simple as that.

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