Reward for a Job Well Done (Closed for Sweet_Denna)

[tyrion77]

It was a cold afternoon in Moscow, typical for November in the city, with clouds in the distance that promised to add to the six inches or so of snow already accumulated on the streets. Inside the government building where the international prosecutors' offices were housed, however, it was warm enough, and for a change most of them were in good cheer. A rising star in their department, Mila Owens, had won a large victory the day before in the fight against the slavery rings that plagued eastern Europe.

She had brought down a particularly large ring that had been headquartered in Moscow itself, and though the mastermind behind this and several other rings they had worked on bringing down in the past two years had slipped through their fingers, this one had been a particularly stinging blow to him. Alexi Ivanov could not be happy over the outcome, but had held on to his freedom for the time being.

Of course, Mila had no way of knowing that Alexi had people inside her department. Completely unaware of it, she sat working in her office, as a new lead had presented itself that afternoon. It was possible the lead would result in information that might finally lead to Alexi's conviction. As she sat looking at the unmarked folder that had found its way to her desk, her superior came to her door about an hour before nightfall.and knocked lightly before entering. "Mila, don't you ever take a break?" Shawn Miller, her superior on the international task force that worked these cases asked her, the mirth in his voice clear, "I mean, you would think that after your big win this week, you'd be able to relax some."

[Sweet_Denna]

Ljudmila, or Mila as everybody in the office called her, sat behind her desk and looked up in surprise when Shawn entered her office.

Raising one eyebrow in disapprovement, Mila glanced at him over the rims of her reading glasses. "Relax?" She scoffed. Papers and photographs were scattered about her desk, and when Shawn had entered the room, she had been chewing on a pencil in concentration. She knew that her colleagues probably thought of her as an anti-social workaholic, but she did not really care. Shawn was the only one who had not yet given up inviting her for drinks after work and she suspected that he had a small crush on her. More than once, she had caught him staring at her tits, as if lost in deep thought. Well, maybe it was not exactly what one would call "a crush".

"Do you know what this is, Shawn?" With an impatient gesture, she turned her laptop around and pointed at the flickering screen. Small, amateurish photographs of half-naked girls, most of them mere children, were aligned in neat little rows. Scared faces, smeared with obscene-looking make-up, squinted at the camera. Most wore a dazed, drugged expression. "It's an online auction." Small numbers followed by dollar signs lit up beneath every picture in irregular intervals. "Out there some sick wankers are bidding for these girls right at this moment." She shook her head in disgust. "As long as Alexis Ivanov is still active, there is no 'big win'." Mila nervously ran her fingers through her dark brown curls. "I will take a break as soon as I have that scumbag sitting handcuffed in a courtroom, and a solid case to get him behind bars for the rest of his life." She flipped open the folder that had been waiting on her desk. There were more photographs, more girls, more of these horribly expressionless faces. But this time, she had a lead on the mastermind behind the thriving slavery and human trafficking business.

Until now, Alexi Ivanov had been able to cover his tracks well. His business conglomerate, Ivanov Oil and Steel, counted amongst the most profitable companies in Russia. He had been amongst the winners that emerged from the bloody battles for the biggest pieces of the cake, after an alcoholic and desperate president had decided to throw the country to the wolves. After the iron curtain had finally come down and everybody drunkenly praised the newly won freedom, it had turned out that the anarchic understanding of it had reduced Russia to a feudal state, and catapulted it back into the dark ages.
Mila's glance fell on the newspaper cuttings that densely covered the pinboard to the right of her desk. "Alexis Ivanov receives award of 'Businessman of the year'" screamed one headline. "Ivanov donates 15 million dollars to the fund of the children of Tchernobyl", another. Then there were the clippings about corpses of young girls turning up in ditches, most of them from Moldova, Ukraine, Georgia, their deaths linked to shady logistics companies, there were news about prostitution rings and slave trade.
Mila knew that all of them were linked to the smooth business man on the glossy photographs of the news magazine covers. All she needed was to proove it. Most of the links she had followed had frustratingly ended in dead ends, but this time, she was on to something. This time, she would get him.
In the past four years, Alexis Ivanov had become something like a personal obsession for her. Bringing down the likes of him had been the reason she had gone into international law and human rights abuses in the first place. At 30, she was by far the youngest attorney in the office, but she had the work experience and an impressive record of successful cases in Den Haag to back up her position in the team. It had been five years now since she had left England to live and work in her mother's native country.

She stood up from her chair and stepped to the window to look out onto the street. Winter in Moscow drained the colours out of the city and wrapped everything in shades of grey. Somehow, it made the vulgarity, the violence and the insanity of the city more bearable.

Mila turned back around to Shawn and smiled. "I guess I could join you guys for a drink later. The same place as usual?"

[tyrion77]

Shawn stood there, leaning against the inside of her doorway, listening to Mila vent about the case. The pictures were vile, to be certain; the ones lauding Ivanov's business exploits were worse in a way, as the media seemed to simply ignore any wrongdoing on the man's part. Still, most would have simply walked out while she went off, as it was clear she was more than a bit obsessed with bringing Mr. Ivanov to justice, but Shawn had been working with her on this case longer than most, and did his best to keep her sane. Admittedly, part of the effort was due to an immense attraction to the busty young lawyer, but only part.

Seeing her finally smile as she turned to face him once more, he grinned back at her, glad that she was willing to come out and try to have a good time with the others. Stepping a bit further into her office, he nodded in answer to her question. "Yes, we're meeting at Nicolai's, down the street. We'll probably be there until closing," he informed her, then added in a slightly more serious tone, "You really do need to learn to celebrate the smaller victories, my dear. You'll burn out or lose your mind if you don. And beside, even this 'small victory' means at least 200 girls that are no longer under that monster's thumb." Joining her by the window, he lightly placed a hand on her shoulder, and gave a comforting squeeze.

[Sweet_Denna]

In a way, Mila was grateful for Shawn's patience and advice. He had been her mentor and friend for a while now, and she could not have asked for a better boss. It made up for his slightly unnerving tendency to patronize her. "You're right, Shawn." She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. "And I know you worry about me, but there really is no need." She gave him a playful slap on the hand, and let her fingers linger on his just a second longer than necessary. "And yes, we should celebrate. I just wish I could have seen that fucker's face when he got the news."

Mila knew that most people in her department thought that she was in over her head in this case, but worrying about what other people thought of her had never been a serious concern for the young lawyer. If anything, the cynicism of her older colleagues made her angry. Mila loved her job, despite the strain it put on her and despite the fact that it ruled out anything even remotely ressembling a social life.

"Give me another half hour and I'll come and join you at Nicolai's." With that, she sat down at her desk again and went to look through the newest folder of evidence. Without looking up, her mind already absorbed in her files, she said: "Oh, and can you please tell Gregor to wait for me on your way out?"

Gregor was the office boy and the closest thing that the office had to a security guard. She had forgotten her keys in the morning and wanted to avoid to be locked inside the building by the old man who ran on a diet of home-made vodka and cheap counterfeit cigarettes, both of which often had a rather dampening effect on his job performance.

[tyrion77]

At her touch, her superior smiled and slowly pulled his hand away. The last thing he needed was any charges of harassment. Not that he thought she would do such a thing, but her office door was open, and others passing by the door might not be so forgiving. "I wish we could have seen his face, too, Mila. Just take care when you are out by yourself. I'm sure him and his thugs would give anything to get their hands on any of us, and you in particular," Shawn told her, then added, "And yes, I will let Gregor know to wait for you. Just don't make him, or us, wait too long, ok?" With a smile on his lips, he slipped out of her office, closing the door behind him.

As time passed, people began to file out, first in a larger rush at about 5pm, then more as they finished up whatever they might have been working on. Before long, she could be relatively sure that she was the last one in the building other than Gregor. The Moscow native could be heard out in the hallway, collecting the wastebaskets and emptying them into a larger wheeled bin. It was not going to take him long to finish up, however, and she knew he would be eager to leave once he was finished.

[Sweet_Denna]

Mila looked at the little clock on her laptop screen. 5.45 pm. She could not make her colleagues wait any longer and the creaking of Gregor's wheeled waste bin in the hallway reminded her that he would probably be eager to leave soon as well. With one last look at the reports and company files in front of her, she decided that a drink did, in fact, sound wonderful. The lead she had been looking for had started to emerge from the dots she connected with the help of the new material. The puzzle pieces slowly fell into place. Apparently there was a rat amongst Ivanov's partners that he had not yet detected. Mila looked at the phone number that was scribbled on a random piece of paper and that had been hidden between the rest of the files. No. Tomorrow was another day and she needed a clear and sharp mind to proceed.
Mila slammed the lid of her laptop shut and started to gather her things from her desk. She shoved the scattered photographs and documents back into the folder and after a moment of hesitation stuffed in in her large leather handbag. Maybe she would feel like looking at it before she went to bed.
Mila had already started to put on her thick winter coat when she stopped and fished the small mirror and her lipstick out of her bag. Shawn had complimented her on the colour, telling her that it brought out her brown eyes and tonight, she wanted to look good.
She put on her woolen cap, and wrapped the thick black scarf tightly around her neck. Then she put on the mittens her mother had knitted for her. Winters in Moscow came down on the city like a fist, literally squeezing all warmth out of it.
And because her mood had lightened up after Shawn's visit and with the prospect of spending an evening with people that she came close to calling 'friends', she turned around to her pinboard and flipped off an especially glamourous picture of the scumbag she would soon enough get behind bars. "Fuck you, Mister Ivanov."

Waving Gregor good-bye, she walked down the hallway to the front door.
When she stepped out of the building and into the street, snow flakes had started to fall. A few huddled figures hurried through pools of yellow light, eager to leave the biting cold behind. Mila decided that it was not worth waiting for a cab, Nicolai's was not far, and she liked to walk. The heels of her leather boots clattered on the shiny cobblestones of the street.

[tyrion77]

Gregor waived back at the lovely attorney as she left the building, glad that she was finally gone. Not just because it meant that he would finally be able to leave, although that would have been good enough. This time, however, it meant more than that. He had been told to wait for an opportunity like this one, and now it had arisen. Once he was sure she was gone, he walked over and closed the door. He then hurriedly pulled out a cellphone he had been given for just such an occasion: he had overheard that they were going to Nicolai's, and that she would be joining them. Mila was also leaving alone, making it too perfect, so he called the contact he had been told to get in touch with, relating all the necessary information to him.

Ilya had been notified to keep watch following the loss of the local slave ring. Mr. Ivanov had been very clear on his eagerness in getting his hands on Ms. Owens. She was the cause of all the trouble he'd been having of late, and was sure that if she were to disappear, that the team that was in charge of prosecuting him would fall apart. When the call came in from their contact in her building, he knew it was a chance he might not have again, so rushed out of the hotel room he had been staying in since his talk with Alexei. Luckily, he also knew where she was headed; he just had to intercept her before she could get there.

It was cold, but that was nothing new, of course. Snow was just beginning to fall lightly when he finally caught sight of Mila; even under her coat, he could see something of her curves, and couldn't help but think that Mr. Ivanov would have more than one reason for being happy to lay hands on her. Thankfully, there were not many other people walking down that particular street. Screwing a cigarette into his lips, he walked toward her, and casually stepped in front of her, timing their meeting so that they actually came face to face at the entrance to a dark alley. "Excuse me, miss," he spoke in russian, of course, though he had a slight accent indicating he was from a different part of the country such as Ukraine, "You don't have a light, do you? Mine stopped working."

[Sweet_Denna]

Mila had been walking down the streets, lost in thought, when the man approached her. Startled, she looked at him, her face half buried behind her woolen scarf. Instinctively, Mila backed away from the stranger standing before her. She had become a teensy bit more paranoiac in the last couple of weeks.

"You don't have a light, do you? Mine stopped working."

"I'm sorry, but I don't smoke." Her slight British accent was barely detectable. Gripping her handbag just a little bit tighter, she walked past him to hurry on to the square, its traffic lights already visible from where she was.

[tyrion77]

Luckily, with the way he had positioned himself, she had to walk past him, and could not stray very far to either side of the sidewalk, since he was in the center. Just when she thought she was physically clear of him, he reached out and grabbed her, clasping one strong hand over her scarf-covered mouth, the other moving around her waist as he stood behind her. Not wanting to stay on the street for too long, he pulled her toward the alleyway, his accent growing thicker as he growled low into her ear, "Come along, bitch, and I won't have to hurt you." The suddenness of his attack allowed him to get her into the dark shadows of the alley before she would have the wherewithal to fight back at all. There were no sounds coming from the street to indicate that anyone had noticed him grab her; now he just had to keep her out of sight and quiet long enough to subdue her.

Meanwhile, just a few blocks away, Gregor was leaving the office building to meet with someone in order to collect the money he had been promised for delivering Mila to the kidnapper. It did not go as he had imagined, however, as the shady-looking man with whom he had been dealing prevented him from leaving with the large briefcase full of money, instead cutting his throat and beginning to prepare his body for disposal. It was a messy job, but they could not afford for him to turn on them the way he had betrayed his legitimate employers.

[Sweet_Denna]

When he grabbed her from behind, covering her mouth, she stumbled and would have fallen on the ice-covered pavement if his hand would not have been tightly wrapped around her waist. The blurry red of the traffic lights on Mayakovsky Square slipped out of her field of vision as he dragged her into the dark alley. No one had noticed them, and even if someone did, nobody would care. Moscow was a city that left its inhabitants fend for themselves.

Mila could not breathe. His hand and her scarf covered her mouth and nose tightly. With soft, mitten-covered hands, she tried to pry his hand loose, her muffled screams barely audible even to the man behind her. Panic rose in her throat and the need for air made her head spin. She tried to dig the heels of her boots into the street, tried to resist, but in vain. The Ukrainian was much stronger than her.

Suddenly, she could feel her cell phone in her coat pocket vibrating angrily.

[tyrion77]

Despite the fact that he was holding her fairly tightly, Ilya didn't notice the vibration of her cell phone, insulated as it was by so many layers of fabric. Deciding it would be easier to subdue her if he could bring his weight to bear, he moved one of his legs between hers, knocking her feet out from under her. This allowed him to force her to the ground and bring his body down atop her back while still holding her mouth to prevent her screams from getting loud enough to attract attention.

Little did he know that in bringing her to the ground and pressing the front of her body into the snow-covered ground, that the phone would be activated, and the person at the other end of the line would hear the struggle, muffled as the sounds were by her coat. The Ukrainian could tell she was having difficulty breathing, so he kept the pressure on her scarf, and with his other hand tried to get hold of one of her wrists to pull behind her. "Stop fighting and I won't have to hurt you any further, whore," he urged her, his weight preventing her from pushing herself back up.

[Sweet_Denna]

When the phone was activated, Mila could very faintly hear the background noises of a bar. Nicolai's. Just a few blocks down the road. A voice. Probably Shawn's. Mila struggled against her attacker, wriggling under his weight. It felt like her muffled screams would tear her lungs apart. The man drove his knees into her back and grabbed one of her arms. With her free hand, she was still trying to force his fingers off her mouth.
"Mila....? MILA...??" Shawn was screaming into the phone and for one terrible second, the Ukrainian stopped his commotion and into the sudden quiet, Shawn's voice exploded loud enough for both of them to hear.

"MILA, OH FUCK, OH GOD, WHAT IS GOING ON? WHERE ARE YOU?"

Mila knew that he was probably running out onto the street right this second, just a few hundred yards from where the snow on the pavement started to soak her coat. Oh, please, Shawn, pleasepleaseplease....

[tyrion77]

Hearing the voice, Ilya knew that he had to work faster. Nicolai's was not far, and he could not afford to be caught. With a frustrated grunt, he gave up on her wrist, and instead balled his free hand into a fist, which he brought down on the back of her head. He was experienced enough to use just enough force to knock her out, though accidents were always possible. If her hurt her too much, Mr. Ivanov would punish him, but it wouldn't be nearly as bad as if he were to get caught trying to snatch this attorney from the street.

Once he was certain she was unconscious, he lifted her up out of the snow, and pulled her deeper into the alley along with her briefcase. Quickly, he fished out the phone, and smashed it, not wanting to take the chance of someone activating the GPS in it. Taking out the fishing line he had stuffed into his pocket, he rapidly tied her wrists, glancing at the alley entrance nervously. He then untied the scarf that protected her face from the cold, and retied it so that it would work on its own as a gag. With one last look at the entrance, he picked the lock to the abandoned building they were behind, and pulled her body inside before closing the door and locking it behind him.

From there, he knew he did not have long before the police would be canvassing the area, so he quickly got Andrei on his phone, "I'm in the abandoned warehouse off of Mayakovsky Square, and I have the parcel. Hurry up and get here." He knew it would take at least 15 minutes with the traffic what it was for his partner to get there with the van, so he had to wait it out.

[Sweet_Denna]

Mila's frantic trail of thoughts was abruptly interrupted when the attacker's fist knocked her into unconsciousness. For the fraction of a second, Shawn's voice continued blurting into the sudden silence before Ilya crushed the cell phone with the heel of his shoe.

In the meantime, Shawn stood outside the bar, throwing panicking glances left and right, still screaming into his cell phone that he pressed to his ear, desperate for a sign what was happening to Mila. Mayakovsky Square was bustling with cars and people that hurried along the snow-covered sidewalks. Nobody paid attention to the desperate, yelling man who was standing on the pavement, wearing nothing over his light-blue shirt. But Shawn was oblivious to the cold.
There was a soft crackling in the line before the connection went dead. For the length of a few heartbeats, the attorney simply stood there, his now useless phone in one hand, his ragged breath forming clouds of mist before his face. Mila. He had heard a male voice, and there had been the noise of a struggle. Fuckingmariamotherofchrist. Mila.
Shawn dialed another number. When a nasal voice answered, he had to use all of his willpower to stay calm. His Russian was good enough, but the panic made his voice sound almost shrill. "This is Shawn Miller calling. There has been a kidnapping on the street between Ulitsa Pravdy and Mayakovsky Square. Young female, Ljudmila Owens." There was a short silence on the other line before the nasal voice adressed him again. "Yes, the attorney."
He slammed his phone close and started to run. The fucking police, if they would ever come and if they were not somehow involved in this, would not be fast enough. Not fast enough. He jogged along the street, crossing the busy lanes without looking or paying attention to the cars. one taxi almost skidded off the road and the driver hurled a filthy insult after him. Shawn knew which way Mila was supposed to take from the office.
When he ran past the alley, something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. A bordeaux woolen cap that laid soaked in a puddle of wet snow. Mila's cap. He turned into the dark, narrow road. He was not a scout, but it was clear that there had been a struggle. A few steps further, he found pieces of Mila's crushed cell phone. His heart beat frantically in his chest when he approached the warehouse.
"Mila? Mila? Are you in there?" He rattled at the door, but it seemed locked. In some corner of his mind, he knew that he was being incredibly stupid, but at this moment, he did not really care.

[tyrion77]

Moments after he had hung up on Andrei, Ilya heard someone yelling on the other side of the door he had come in. He didn't recognize the words, and guessed that the man was speaking English. With calm hands, he took out the Glock 9mm pistol he carried with him at all times, and began to screw the silencer onto the barrel. It was an expensive gun, but the reliability of the piece had been worth every ruble spent on it. The large Ukrainian knew he could not leave whoever it was outside to point out where he was hiding with his prize, so he walked over to the door and unlocked it, but then stepped back away, making sure that his steps were loud enough to be heard on the other side of the heavy door.

"Come on in, motherfucker," he muttered to himself, raising the gun and pointing it at the door. He'd killed before, but was not usually in a rush to do so. Killing was more trouble afterward than other things, but at that moment, Ilya could not afford to take chances. Silently, he cursed her cell phone; the timing of it ringing was horrible luck for him.

[Sweet_Denna]

Shawn listened intently as he heard footsteps on the other side of the door. When he pressed his fingertips against it, he felt that it had been unlocked. Shit. Whoever was waiting on the other side was expecting him now. He was absolutely sure that Mila was inside the warehouse. Her and her kidnapper.
"Listen", he said in Russian through the tiny crack of the door. "The police will be here any minute now." Despite the chilling cold, sweat was running down his back and made his hair cling to his forehead. "Just let her go. Don't make this worse than it is. If you let her go, we can all still have a quiet evening and go home."
He could not believe what he was doing. But what choice did he have? Him or Mila? And where the hell was the fucking police?

[tyrion77]

Whoever it was, he was smarter than Ilya had given him credit for. If he remained out there yelling, the cops would show up soon, no matter how much distraction was provided for them. What he had to do next was risky, but there really was no other choice; he had to shut the man up and get him out of that alleyway. With a growl, he launched himself at the door and threw it open. As soon as his eyes fell on the Brit, he opened fire, pulling the trigger three times. Each shot hit their mark, causing neat little holes to open up in the man's chest. It didn't take long after that for his body to fall limp to the ground.

Now Ilya really had to hurry. A frustrated grunt escaped his lips as he pushed Shawn into the warehouse, hoping that Andrei would get there soon. Shaking his head, he kicked what was left of Mila's cell phone under the dumpster, and tossed the snow using his gloved hands, so that the parts that had been stained red with the Brit's blood were buried by white. Only then did he rush back inside the warehouse to wait out his partner's arrival.

[Sweet_Denna]

It happened very fast. Shawn heard the fast approaching steps of the guy inside the warehouse but did not have enough time to look for cover.
When the bullets hit his chest, he slumped to the ground and by the time the shooter dragged his body into the warehouse, his mind had slipped into unconsciousness.

[tyrion77]

Ilya was hearing sirens in the distance when he heard the sounds of a large vehicle pulling up in the alley to the door he had brought both bodies through. He had not bothered to check on Shawn; he honestly didn't care if the man lived or died. The Ukrainian didn't think the Brit had seen enough of him to ID him even if he remembered the whole ordeal. "Finally," he growled at Andrei as he opened the door for his partner, and walked back to where he had hidden Mila in a storage closet.

"Don't you give me shit. You're the one who was sloppy enough to get the police called," the smaller, blond man shot back as he followed Ilya through the dark warehouse. Together, they lifted her up, and carried her out into the van, hurriedly tossing her into the back. They knew there was not much time, so they didn't bother closing the door again behind them, instead rushing into the van so they could drive away. By the time she began to stir in the back of the vehicle, they were well away from the Square, and on their way to Mr. Ivanov's mansion in the countryside outside Moscow.

[Sweet_Denna]

Mila awoke to a head that felt as if someone had driven over it with a tank. For a short confusing moment, she did not know where she was and what had happened. Her hands and feet were tied, and the floor she was laying on was softly vibrating, moving. What the...? Mila groaned.
Then it all came rushing back and she started screaming against her scarf that had been tightly tied against her mouth. When the car hit a small pothole, her head painfully collided with the metal bottom of the vehicle. From the corner of her eye, she could see that two men were sitting in front of the van, one of them she recognized as her attacker. Panic rose in her throat and drove tears to her eyes. Shit, she thought. Oh no, please no.

Meanwhile, the police arrived in the alley, only to find the British attorney who had called them, shot three times clean through the chest. "Fucking idiot!", Lieutnant Boris Kanskaya muttered through his teeth when they found Shawn Miller. The girl, of course, was long gone. The fact that the attorney really had had it coming did not change the fact that Boris felt sorry for her. He had read about her recent successes in the newspaper and been impressed. It had felt good to see someone taking on that slick bastard, but as a cop, Boris knew that men like Ivanov were pretty much unfuckingtouchable. He was certain that her body would never turn up, but had not the slightest doubt that she was already dead. Alexei Ivanov - and the lieutnant was sure that he was somehow behind this - was not the kind of man who would ask for a ransom. Boris Kanskaya ordered for the Brit to be rushed the hospital and his men to secure the crime scene.
He lit himself a cigarette. This mess would cause quite some commotion on all levels and he better had a good story to fend off the British foreign service in the morning. The standard statement they issued in these cases, that "the killing had been connected to the professional activity of the victim" might not be able to cut it. Boris Kanskaya inhaled greedily. "I hate this city", he grunted while blowing the smoke from his lips.

[tyrion77]

When Ilya heard her muffled screams, he glanced back at the trussed up woman, and laughed. He slipped into the back so that she could get a better look at him, and smirked as he put a cigarette in his lips and made a show of lighting it. Inhaling deeply, he blew the smoke out into her face and chuckled some more before speaking, "It seems the damn thing started working again. You know, you've really done it now, pretty lawyer woman. You've made the big man mad, and that is just not very bright." Holding the cigarette in his lips, he reached down, double-checking the bonds that held her, including the makeshift gag. It wouldn't do for them to be pulled over because someone heard a woman screaming inside their vehicle.

It was apparently a long drive to wherever they were taking her, the minutes since she woke up stretching into nearly an hour. There were many stops, indicating that they were still in the city. Even after Ilya returned to his seat, he glanced back at her from time to time, to make sure that she didn't find a way to cause any trouble while Andrei drove, focusing on not looking too suspicious. Once or twice, he had to alter the route to avoid roadblocks; the police were apparently conducting at least a half-assed search for the missing attorney, as she could puzzle out by listening to the driver mutter and curse. Even if the roadblocks were just for show, if they stumbled into one, whatever plan Ivanov had would be at the very least delayed.

[Sweet_Denna]

Mila stared at the tall Ukrainian when he crouched next to her and nonchalantly lit his cigarette. She flinched when he touched her to check her bonds. Mila was scared, without being able to grasp what the fuck had happened in the last few hours. An icy glint had lit up his eyes when he smiled and Mila whimpered when the tattoos on his knuckles flickered under the soft orange light of the flame. There was no doubt who he meant speaking of "the big man". But she did not want to accept that the tables had turned this abruptly, that cruelly, to her disadvantage. No fucking way. But she also knew that denial was the first emotional stage when someone learnt that he was going to die.

In the distance, she could hear the faint sound of police sirens before they vanished again. It seemed to her that the driver was very aware of them as he cursed under his breath. How...? Shawn. If her wracked memory did not betray her, he had listened to her struggling against the attacker when her cell phone had unintently gone off. He must have alarmed the police. He was already looking for her, and he would know where to start. It was a shred of hope her mind could hold on to. Shawn was going to save her.

[tyrion77]

The roadblocks slowed them down, but Andrei knew the streets of Moscow too well to be contained by them, and they finally made their way out of the city to a country road. With no more traffic signals or police blocking the way, it was a much faster ride to Mr. Ivanov's countryside mansion. He had places in the city, but he would never keep someone as important as Mila in any of them; for her, only his safest house would do.

About half an hour later, the vehicle stopped again, and Andrei was speaking in a low voice to someone outside the van. After a short exchange, the vehicle began to pull forward slowly, going only a short distance before stopping again, and Andrei turning it off. "We're here, bitch," he announced to her as he and Ilya exited the van and went to the back to open the rear doors. They pulled her out, and between the two of them carried her through a back door into Alexei's mansion.

As she was carried through the halls, she could see that the place was richly, tastefully decorated. The floors she had seen so far were covered in thick carpet to help insulate from the cold ground. Eventually, she was taken into a dining room, where she could see several men enjoying a meal. When she was placed on the ground, their attention turned to her. Of course, Alexei Ivanov was at the head of the table, but would have stood out anyway. The pictures she'd had on her desk did not do the man justice, really. He was tall, and lean, and moved with an unnerving grace. A ruggedly handsome face was topped off by short, jet black hair, and piercing blue eyes looked her over triumphantly.

"Remove the gag, and untie her feet," he instructed the men who had brought her in, his voice smooth, calm and confident, "Then put her on her knees." Andrei produced a knife, which he used to quickly cut the fishing line that kept her feet together. No sooner was the bond cut, than Ilya's strong hand was twined in her hair, pulling her up to her knees. As all this happened, Alexei stood and walked slowly toward her, as if he were stalking prey.

[Sweet_Denna]

She glinted against the sudden light, and her head, still throbbing with the pain of her subsiding headache, protested. So there she was, literally in the lion's den. The soft noises of conversation had subsided upon their entering the dining room, the clattering of forks and knives had ceased as all eyes were on them. If it would not have been for the two men dragging the bound body of a young woman inside, the scene would have held all the pleasantness and elegance of a polite evening dinner amongst civilised, well-mannered gentlemen. Very rich, civilised, well-mannered gentlemen.

Mila whinced when Ilya pulled her up by her locks. Her black stockings were torn on the knees and the skirt and her coat were dirty and wet. She could feel her face still burning from the skin-cutting cold outside and her tears. For some absurd reason, her first emotional reaction in the face of Alexei Ivanov was shame.

In her head, Mila had imagined the way they would finally meet so many, many times. None of these fantasies had involved her being on her knees in front of him. It made her groan in frustration and she could feel tears well up in her eyes again. Impossible! This must have been some freakish nightmare, something her perfidious, over-worked subconscious had thrown at her when she least expected it. She would wake up. Any minute now.

But she did not. Ivanov's blue eyes bore down at her pathetic form, and she could hear snickers and whispers coming from the dinner table. Had her imagination been colourful enough and had she ever been asked to come up with the situation that she was most likely to loose her sane mind over, this would have been it.

It was unbearable. It was terrifying. So Mila reacted the way she always did when something was so unimaginably scary that her mind could not handle it. As soon as Andrei had removed her gag, she spat her anger-masked fear in Alexei's face. "You fucking son of a bitch! This pathetic move will break your neck. You better enjoy your meal because it will be the last food from a real plate for you and your scumbag friends in a very long time. The police is on its way."
Autosuggestion. Sometimes it worked for her.

And sometimes it didn't.

[tyrion77]

There was some soft laughter at the table, but Alexei just smirked slightly at her supposition that the cavalry was coming to her rescue. "I assure you, the police are still searching the city for you, putting on a good show so that people cannot simply assume that I have control of them. They were ordered to be very thorough," he responded calmly, amusement shining in his blue eyes as he took in her anger. "Where are my manners? Ilya, Andrei, get the woman's coat," he ordered the two men who had captured her, and they began to undo the buttons of her wet, dirty coat. They could not slide it off with her wrists still tied, so Andrei used his knife to peel it off of her, carefully slicing through the thick fabric.

Once the coat was off of her, he nodded at the two men and they stepped away from her. Not far, but enough that there was an illusion of her being somewhat alone with their boss. "Now, you have caused me a lot of trouble, Ms. Owens. Trouble that I am sure you are satisfied with. Unfortunately for you, it is not trouble I could simply allow to go unanswered. You cost me and my friends here a lot of money," his voice only slightly betrayed his anger, and it was clear to her that if this man were showing it at all, the rage had to be immense. "Now, what is it you think I would do with someone who has caused myself and my friends such a big headache, Ms. Owens?" he asked her, reaching down to roughly grasp her chin and force her gaze to his own.