Captivity

>Zenya swatted at a mosquito she felt biting her leg, but the >insect was gone by the time her hand got there, "Could you >give me some general information?" Where were Jordan and >Leo?

>"Helping Hands was founded in the 1960's as a women's >support group. Back then, the members set up a shelter for >battered women. It was one of the first in the country. The >group has grown to as many as 150 members. Today it's a >little over half that and growing again. The 1980's was a tough >decade. The membership really shrank."

>Zenya put her hand on her forehead, she wasn't feeling so well.

>"Are you ok?" Rebecca asked.

>"I'm fine."

>"Let's go out to my car. I'll take you someplace you can rest."

>Zenya's brain screamed, "NO!" but she felt herself nod.

>Rebecca stood up, helped her to her feet, and led her out the >back door to her red Corvette. Rebecca helped her in the >passenger side door, and got in the other side. The Vette left >the parking lot, and turned right.

Speeding through the streets of Santa Fe, Zenya tried to make note of landmarks and keep track of turns. What good it might do her later, she had no idea, but for the moment, it was all she was capable of doing, and at least it was something. It occurred to her that she still had her gun - Rebecca hadn't taken it - but her body would not respond to her mind's command to reach for it. After a few minutes, she realized that she had completely lost track of where they were, noticing only that the landscape had changed, that they were no longer in the city proper, but in a suburban area.

Rebecca seemed to be saying something to her, but the voice sounded far away and disconnected from reality. Zenya didn't bother trying to listen or comprehend. There was another sound, too, shrill and annoying, familiar but no more comprehensible than anything else that was happening. By now, it was taking every reserve of strength and will she could muster just to keep her tenuous grasp on consciousness, and the steady motion of the car and the warmth of the air were doing nothing to help matters. Finally, despite the protests of that tiny portion of her brain that was still functioning somewhat normally, Zenya closed her eyes and surrendered to sleep.

The next thing Zenya was aware of was a dull pain in her shoulder, just enough to draw her out the drug induced slumber. She was laying down, she realized, and the surface beneath her was cold and hard. Concrete, she thought. Curious as to why she couldn't move her arms, Zenya shifted her body slightly and experimented with some basic movement. Handcuffs bound her wrists, but she was otherwise free of physical restraints.

With tremendous effort, she pushed herself into a sitting position, which seemed to alleviate the pain in her shoulder, but no thanks to the physical effort and the lingering effect of whatever drug Rebecca had given her, an excruciating throbbing started just behind her left eye.

Gradually, the room around her came into sharper focus, though processing the information was still much more difficult than it should have been. Two small windows on one wall - too small to crawl through even if she had been able to do so, and with bars on them anyway - provided the only light. Not too much time had passed then, she thought. There was an old steamer trunk in one corner of the room, and near it a table. A rickety staircase leading to a door. Nothing to give a clue as to where she was.

With the idea of exploring further, Zenya tried to push herself to her feet, but the dizzying headache made it impossible. She decided to lay down for a few more minutes, to let the effects wear off a little more.

Where the hell had Jordan and Leo been, anyway, she wondered and hoped that they had at least arrived in time to figure out that something had gone wrong. And as long as she was thinking along those lines, she cursed her own stupidity. As soon as she saw Rebecca, she should have sensed a trap and made a move to get the hell out of there. Dumb, she thought, very, very dumb.

The sound of movement above her distracted her from those thoughts. A moment later, she could hear voices and the creaking of a door, then footsteps coming down the stairs. Zenya closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep. She was not yet in any position to defend herself or contribute to her own rescue. At least if they thought she was sleeping, they might speak freely and she could glean some information that way.

"So, who is she," asked a male voice. Ted, Zenya assumed.

"Zenya Gorky," Rebecca answered, sounding a bit hesitant.

"The FBI agent you told me about? Oh, that's just great, Becca," Ted said with a hint of irony. "As if they weren't getting close enough as it was. Now, they're gonna be on us�"

"No one knows about this place, Ted. Don't worry. This is such a beautiful place. Tonight will be perfect. Nothing is going to go wrong."

"What if you were followed? She might be wearing a wire." Zenya could sense Ted near her, leaning over her and studying her.

"I checked. And we weren't followed. I was very careful."

"It's not as if we have much choice in the matter anyway. She'll do. Come on, give me a hand here. We'd better get started."

Zenya felt Ted's hands on her, pulling her up to a sitting position. She kept up her ruse, not resisting and waiting for a chance to do something.

"You have the key for these things," Ted asked.

"Right here." Rebecca came up behind Zenya and unlocked the handcuffs. Zenya smiled inwardly. At least now she had her hands free if she needed to fight. Together, Ted and Rebecca pulled her to her feet, and while Ted held her up, Rebecca struggled to remove her jacket. Zenya shivered involuntarily. The room was cold and the sleeveless tee shirt she was wearing under the jacket did little to keep her warm. "What the hell," Rebecca exclaimed.

"What?"

"She has a tattoo. Some kind of weird eagle. You don't think�"

Ted sighed. "We don't have a choice now. It's too late to find someone else. We'll just have to hope for the best."

"But its not like we can just start over if it doesn't work. If it doesn't work, we've failed. Completely and irrevocably."

"It's just an eagle. As long as it isn't a religious symbol or anything like that, we're fine."

Ted had loosened his grip on her just a bit. It with the two of them arguing, it seemed the best chance Zenya was going to get. Zenya pushed against Ted with all her strength, knocking him into Rebecca and sending both startled individuals sprawling on the floor. Ducking away from their grasps as they tried to grab her ankles, Zenya ran up the stairs, throwing the door closed. She took a second to look for a latch, but there was none. Her head was still throbbing and she was having a hard time just staying on her feet, but she didn't allow herself to think about that. Reaching to her side, she discovered that her gun was gone now. Not really a surprise. Not paying any attention to her surroundings, she searched blindly for a door. Finally finding one, she discovered to her dismay that it was locked. Recalling last night and the fire, she looked for something to break a window. Spotting a lamp she turned to reach for it, but before she could pick it up Ted and Rebecca appeared in the doorway.

"Don't move," Ted said, waving something in her direction. So, that's what happened to her gun.

-----

Sydnie Kathryn MacElroy

SA1 Kate Calloway, X-Files, DELTA
SA2 Zenya Gorky, X-Files, ZULU
Fianna Nikal, Kal-Dixas Spaceport

Linguae quae genera distincta non habent inuriam faciunt feminis.

"It may not be apparent, but I am often amused with human behavior."