Chapter Two

Stay Calm,” a baritone voice boomed into the shadow. Faidh froze. “Acting up isn’t going to help you right now. Cooperate,” the voice urged her compliance, “and this will all be over before you know it. Give us any trouble,” it paused menacingly; lingering pointedly over each word; deliberately extending their annunciation, “and it won’t go easy for you. We don’t want to hurt you. We will if we have to,” the man explained, “ but we really don’t want to.” Faidh drew in a staggered breath. “We will have questions for you later,” he continued in a softer tone, “but for now rest. Gather yourself. Think about your situation and why behaving is your best choice. Think about how that will make everyone’s life easier; especially yours.” His deliberate words echoed against the silence, long after they were spoken.

“Accent. Foreign. He’s possibly Egyptian,” Faidh concentrated on the inflection, timing, and nuances of each word that had been directed at her.  Her position working in the embassy had brought her into contact with many foreign accents. She recognized this one, but where was it from?  “Possibly ...Middle East,” her mind questioned, “...maybe Jordanian?” She had heard that accent before. She couldn’t quite place it, but she was sure she knew it. “Who are you,” she anxiously questioned the air. “Why am I here? What do you want with me,” her mind raced. “What is this about? I don’t understand!” 

“Please, let me go,” Faidh softly spoke into the darkness. “ I promise I won’t tell a soul. You can just leave. Nobody will ever know this happened.” Her voice grew more excited as she begged for release. “I don’t know you! I haven’t seen you! You CAN trust me! I won’t tell a soul, I promise! All you have to do is walk away. Just let me go, please,” the sense of calm she had clung to so protectively, dissipated. It was replaced by an ever growing sense of apprehension and terror. Her breathing quickened. It began to come in short, unmanageable gasps. “Please,” she pressed, “I’ve done nothing. I’ve seen nothing. Please let me go!,” her voice became shrill, cracking against heavy emotion. Faidh began to gasp for air. .”Please, please I can’t breathe,” she swallowed hard against the anxious nIghtmare consuming her.

A slim ray of dull light abruptly filtered into the room as the door was opened. The irritating smell of stale engine grease assaulted Faidh’s nostrils. Wherever she was, it smelled industrial; mechanical; malodorous. The air rushing into the room from outside the door was cool. It felt damp. It smelled pungent; ripe with the musty scent of bacteria and mold. Through her panic, Faidh breathed the air in as deeply as she could. She gulped in breath after precious breath, as she began scouring her memory for similarities. “Details,” she silently reminded herself. “Pay attention.” She bolted upright; launching herself into a sitting position, as a tall figure loomed purposefully towards her. “Six foot tall,” Faidh noted to herself, as the large framed man moved calmly closer. 

An eerie glow emanated from the slim ray of light in the open doorway. It encircled Faidh's captor, giving him an unnatural glow. It leant him an ominously menacing appearance. She couldn't see the details of his face but looked away quickly, "just in case." She knew a captor who allowed you the luxury of being able to describe them, had no intention of releasing you alive. Faidh was determined to do nothing that could later prevent him from letting her go. She closed her eyes tight; fighting the urge to face the man who held her. She suddenly realized she felt dizzy from too much oxygen; though she still felt as if she couldn't breathe.

 “I warned you,” the voice insisted; emphasizing every word. The lumbering figure now stood over Faidh. Involuntarily, her body betrayed her, shuddering visibly. “I didn’t want to do this'" he complained. "I HATE doing this!'' Carefully controlled rage belied the calmness in his voice. “Why won’t anyone EVER listen,” he asked no one; expecting no answer. Painful heat flooded Faidh’s arm as a small needle was quickly inserted into her flesh. The world grew quiet. Faidh disappeared.

“”Some..times In our Lives," soft music floated through the small Stygian room. “...we all have pain. We all have sorrow. But, if we are wise, we know that there’s always tomorrow.” THAT voice could be heard absently mumbling the words to a Bill Wither’s song. A tall, muscular man lumbered confidently about the room. Faidh feigned sleep. He was too close. She couldn’t show him she had woken. “Lean on me, when you’re not strong and I'll be your friend, I'll help you carry on…” 

Gently, Heath laid Faidh back against the bed. He had been bathing her! She was dressed in a fresh gown. Methodically, he covered her body with the gray woolen blanket, as he continued to hum. He knew she had woken up so he quickly left the room. He didn't want to cause her more distress and end up having to put her out again. His tenderness confused Faidh. She expected harshness; cruelty. Yet, his touch had been tender as he dressed and covered her. He had been unusually benevolent, as if she were fragile, hallowed in some way.  

Faidh didn't understand. She ran a hand through her wet hair. He had washed her long, wavy, chestnut tresses. Why would he do that? Why was he treating her so? He was holding her against her will. Shouldn't there be brutality; disdain; even pain? Where was the reasoning? Where was this going? Who was he? “You’ll feel better if you drink some broth and take some juice,” he interrupted her thoughts. The door closed as he left the room. Faidh remained motionless long after his departure.