Bienvenidos a Miami! (Closed for fuckmeat)

[The_PG]

http://www.graphicdzn.com/provo/gerard/gerard_butler_05.jpg​

"Welcome back Mr. Harrison, did you have a pleasant trip to Rio?"

"Yes, it was nice. Thank you."

Mr. Who? He blinked twice before walking away from the customs gate and towards the baggage claim. Various images and words suddenly flashed in front of his minds eye in rapid succession. Sitting on a small G-5 Gulf-stream with ten or twelve other passengers; thirteen to be exact, fourteen including himself. Nineteen with crew. How did he knew that? Never mind. They were talking about... John Deer tractors... A new shipment, shipping to Rio within the next physical year. They were going over prices, taxes, import and export rates, flooding the market and starving people. Another conversation impeded on the first, talking about the Olympics that would soon be held in Rio, the ability to make a fortune, the lack of a powerful US swimmer since of Phelps retirement... The conversations melted into background noise quickly.

It was important though. Those people, he knew it, all thirteen faces were important. Not the crew. They smiled just right, not too big, not too small, hired help. How did he know all of this?

More importantly... Who the hell was Mr. Harrison? That wasn't his name. His name was...

With a frown he opened the passport and saw his face staring right back at him.

"Mr. Harrison?" He asked himself softly.

Looking up he noticed the baggage train had begun. The picture of a tan bag filled his vision for a second, and moments later he noticed the same bag circling the carousel. Nobody had made a move to pick it up after three laps, so he leaned over to check the name tag. Mr. Harrison. So, maybe that was his name. Taking the bag he began to leave the baggage area, but like the deep music in a suspenseful movie he had an inclination of being watched and followed. Two black shadows hovered over his traced path to the security exit doors. With a frown he looked at one first, and got not even the slightest hesitation or blinking recognition. It ignored him, could be simple coincidence.

The second one, however, hesitated. Slightly, ever so slightly.

Anyone and everyone else in the entire airport wouldn't have noticed, or if they did, wouldn't have cared about the reaction. To Mr. Harrison it set off several alarms that suddenly began pushing adrenaline through his veins in a way that made him so very, very nervous. His grip tightened on the handle to his bag and strap of his backpack. It took several deep breaths to calm the burst of adrenaline, and when he looked back the man in black was gone like a shadow in the night.

Setting his sights on the exit Mr. Harrison walked at a steady clip and the feeling of being followed disappeared entirely. He slipped into the crowd and was just about to pass through the security door when more alarms went off then he could process. Something inside of him simply communicated that everything was wrong. It felt like he was being followed and rushed at the same time. Trapped. He was in a cage of human bodies and he didn't like it one bit.

Suddenly, as if the world could understand his body language a large red light above the exit began to spin and flash.

Next, a siren alerted everyone else that something was wrong, but nobody could understand what it was.

Nobody besides Mr. Harrison that is. He immediately knew the problem was him.

The two black shadows had returned closer and their hands were reaching for something inside of their suit coats. Four more men dressed in black suits were doing the same thing in front of him. Without thinking Mr. Harrison began to move. He pushed the cart of luggage driven by a frail old man into two of the four coming for him. The third collided with his suitcase as he swung it, and the fourth received a sharp elbow to the side of his neck as Mr. Harrison charged him before he could pull his pistol out of his holster and bring it to bare. The window was open and Mr. Harrison flew through it as fast as his feet could carry him. The scene drew a crowd immediately, but he was through it before it could tighten. The men in black were not.

Not those men in black. There were more, many, many more.

Men with sunglasses and little wires coming from their ears, men with sniper rifles and black hats perched up in the balcony, men with their suit coats pulled back; badges and pistols exposed to the sight of rapidly frightening tourists and travelers. Panic was good. Panic was chaos. Chaos was confusion. Confusion was an advantage, use it! With his free arm Mr. Harrison pulled the small metallic trash can and sent it hurling into the big pane of glass near several Chinese tourists. The shattering glass drew everyone's attention, as well as one or two screams. Good, but not enough. He spotted a fire alarm; perfect. Only it was either defective or turned off. It didn't work.

A muted cough echoed in his ear.

Instinctively he twisted. The bullet slapped into the fire alarm.

Darting behind a row of ATM's, phones, and Internet Kiosks he rolled to a stop and frowned as his back was dug into by a sharp metallic object in his backpack. Opening it he discovered what it was, why did he have a gun? Even as he asked this question he was quickly clearing the action and slamming a clip into the handle. He flicked the safety up before glancing around, and then returned to his backpack. That wasn't it. There was a packet of documents, a brick of twenty dollar bills, and several more clips and boxes of ammo. It must have been a set up, why else would they have come right after him? Why else would they let through the bags on the other end... Other end of what? There wasn't another end. Just the plane ride and the exit and now this.

Whipping his head around as the sound of office shoes clacked on marble floor he raised his pistol and let off a single round. The gunshot caused more screams then a hundred pieces of glass being broken. Panic ensued as the man in black fell with a red hole in his thigh.

So he had been set up. That's a good start.

As he set the backpack back on his shoulders Mr. Harrison decided it was time to figure out how he was going to get out of here without being covered by a body bag. First he checked the back he had claimed, but there were only clothes in it. He even checked the inseams out of instinct, but still there was nothing. Casting it to the side he decided it was better to wear dirty clothes then be slowed down by the large suitcase.

The glance of the badge earlier told him that these men were government, the United States government, probably working with the FBI... FBI... Hostages! That was what he needed, a hostage, they wouldn't touch him if he had an innocent man, woman, or child with a gun pointed at the back of his or her head. Children though, were out of the question, and between a man or woman a woman was ideal. They wouldn't be able to fight back quite as strongly, and were more easily controlled by physical pain, and often didn't carry the same sense of becoming a hero when they could die. Across the aisle was a small group of travelers, businessmen and women, a conference of some sort probably.

A man in black was moving towards them, but if he started now Mr. Harrison would beat the man in black.

Again, no thinking; he ran.

The sprint took four seconds, and he was missed a total of two times by two different snipers well out of the range of his pistol. Sliding like a baseball player he kicked the biggest of the business men in the groin; putting him out of action and making any of the other heroes think before they did anything stupid. Rising to a knee Mr. Harrison shot the man in black heading towards his group. The red splash from his arm confirmed another non-lethal hit. The gunshot and subsequent tumble of the man in black added a real reason for nobody to act like a hero. With a quick comparison of the two women in the group the decision was really obvious and based entirely off one factor. The elder of the two was overweight and already crying. He didn't need to deal with a headcase. The younger one was staring at him with crystal clear eyes; not a tear in sight.

She was also smaller and shorter than the older lady which would make physical manipulation ideal.

He reached in and plucked her out with a grasp under her shoulder.

"I need your help."

Before she could reply he twisted her arm behind her back and continued to twist her wrist until the tension was so great anymore of his considerable strength that was left would pop her shoulder out of it's socket. He propelled her towards the nearest exit; it would be best to get outside before they could set up their containment out there as well. The burst of muggy Florida air hit him in the face like a slap. For the first time the girl tried to tug away, but the pain lancing through her shoulder immediately taught her otherwise.

"Not yet, I still need you. Stop struggling, you won't get hurt."

It wasn't a promise, but it was a possibility.

Mr. Harrison pushed the girl out in front of him into the middle of the street. The first car that stopped he pointed the gun out and yelled, in nearly perfect Spanish, "Fuera de la coche ahora o te mato!" The latino man obeyed instantly, his hands held up as he shouted indignant curses and gave the bird to a very impatient Mr. Harrison. He shoved the girl into the front passenger seat and slid into the drivers seat before she could get out. He locked the doors and stepped on the gas. The moment they cleared the airport he glanced over at the girl, and quick as lightning lashed out with the butt of his pistol. It cracked against her temple and she was out like a light. Perhaps a mild concussion, but it would allow him to drive more quickly and without danger of her trying to steer him off the road. In seconds he was on the major interstate heading north to...

... He didn't know.

At the first gas station he could find that wasn't busy, and was about three miles from the main drag he stopped. Quickly he pulled the woman's small body into the backseat and used the wires from a cell phone charger to bind her wrists behind her back. Then he used his belt to do the same with her feet, and lastly he wedged several tissues into her mouth and tied it off with his tie. Then he slipped out of the car and hurried into the station where he bought some water and snacks along with band aid's and a map of the state.

Upon his return he found the woman struggling violently.

She stopped the moment he opened the door and slid inside next to her.

"If you promise not to scream I'll take that off." He said, pointing to her covered mouth as he held up water; offering it without a smile or even flicker of emotion on his face.

 

[fuckmeat]

http://www.corbisimages.com/images/67/B04907E0-A393-441E-949D-C7F873811ABB/42-15246505.jpg

Keira Scott. Aged 26, petite at just 5ft tall, B cup tits.​

She wasn't even supposed to be in Miami. She had been unable to get a flight from Los Angeles to the UK swiftly enough to be home for her daughter's first birthday. The best that could be offered to her was to change planes in Miami. It would be a gruelling trip but she'd get through her front door in time to celebrate with her husband, even if all she actually did was pass out from jetlag.

Megan was her first child and it was the first time Keira had left her for even a night. She missed Megan with a physical ache that twisted in her gut and made it hard to focus on her job as a PR executive. She had been in Los Angeles with a British A List client, an actress who had just been very publicly cheated on and dumped by some swine of a Hollywood brat. The poor woman was filing for divorce and Keira's job was to handle the press attention. Although she was petite and in her twenties, Keira could face down a horde of paparazzi and tell them to go fuck themselves without actually uttering a single expletive. Keira was a woman who could turn her back on someone while looking them straight in the eye.

But it was draining. She had spent four weeks with a hysterical actress, liaising with the legal team, the agent, the film studio shooting her next movie, the family and countless others. She was flying home a week later than originally planned and had turned her phone off before she even arrived at LAX. Her husband, Patrick, knew the score. She had told him she would text when she had an arrival time at Heathrow and that was all he needed to know for now.

Keira had got to Miami expecting a simple transfer. It transpired however that her connecting flight had been cancelled. Fighting to suppress what threatened to be an epic sense of humour failure, Keira remonstrated with a long suffering airport lackey to no avail. She would have to collect her suitcase, find a hotel and take a flight the next day. Even her sob story didn't make any difference. Keira waved her wallet in the woman's face, showing her the photo of Patrick and her holding Megan at about nine months. The woman shot her a weary look that said she'd heard it all before. Keira got her case, strode through passport control with bad grace and hit the crowded main area of the airport, gazing about for an information point.

She was queuing for details of local hotels when an alarm sounded. She looked about dispassionately but like everyone else, assumed it was nothing to do with her. Keira fired up her mobile phone and called Patrick but there was no answer, not even from the nanny. Keira realised she had no clue what time it was back home, disoriented as she was. Only when a pane of glass smashed loudly, some distance away, did she realise something serious was happening.

Everyone thinks they know what they'll do in various worse case scenarios. Keira was about to be very wrong about her own assumptions on the matter. Her first thought was terrorism. People started screaming and fleeing from the place where the glass had broken. Keira stared open mouthed. Her feet were rooted to the spot. Any sensible person would have been heading for the nearest exit before some fanatic packing C4 blew the whole place to hell but she just froze. Keira clutched her purse pointlessly and watched open-mouthed as the scene unfolded. She heard gunshots and the panic increased and everyone spilled towards the exits. Keira clung to the information booth, knowing every cab would be physically fought over and that she had no plan B. Her suitcase was left abandoned a short distance away but her most important things were all in her purse and the laptop case hanging from her shoulder. Keira peeked out from behind the booth, hoping to just stay there unnoticed until the guys in suits took down their target. She saw a group of people nearby and moved to stand among them as the gunman veered in their direction.

He kicked and then shot one of his pursuers as Keira and her new companions shrank away from him. Keira had never witnessed a man using every ounce of his strength like that, fighting and fleeing for his life. It was compelling and even in the midst of her terror she wondered what his story was.

Then he drew himself up to full height and turned to look straight at her, the gun brandished in his right hand, the barrel rising towards her. Keira froze as the world spun slower and her assailant seemed to move in slow motion. She could see the sweat on his brow, the slivers of broken glass clinging to his expensive suit jacket... and the determination in his eyes. She didn't even react at first when he pulled her towards him, saying about the last thing she expected to hear. Keira's laptop bag clattered to the floor as he pulled her tight against him, then he twisted her arm and wrist so hard that she winced with pain. She squirmed and caused herself even more pain, pain that finally cleared her terrified mind.

He dragged her to the exit and she didn't hamper him, convinced that if she got in his way he'd shoot her. Breathing fresh air awakened some primal instinct in Keira though and she struggled again briefly but he twisted her arm until she quit.

"Not yet, I still need you. Stop struggling, you won't get hurt." He seemed oddly sincere but there was too much evidence to the contrary for Keira to be at all reassured. He comandeered a car using well pronounced Spanish and threw her inside. Keira's purse landed in the footwell of the passenger seat and before she could try getting out the other side, he was in the driver's seat locking the doors. He gunned the car towards the nearest exit and as Keira mustered the coherence to ask where he was taking her, the butt of his gun filled her vision and smashed into her head.

~~~~~​

She came around slowly, the motion of the vehicle rocking her gently in and out of various levels of consciousness. Suddenly she flinched violently, leaping awake as another gunshot ripped through the air right by her head. She felt it go past her, felt the air move. Shaking and sobbing, Keira opened her eyes and attempted to focus.

She was in a car, bound and gagged. Nobody was shooting at her, she twisted around and realised that nobody was there at all. Had the guy just dumped her there with the car and fled? If so was that a good or bad thing for her? Keira started fighting her bonds but didn't get anywhere before the door opened and her kidnapper climbed into the back seat with her. He slammed the door shut, revealing the source of the gunshot sound she had heard. Keira stared up at him beseechingly, perfectly willing to act like a hysterical little girl if it made him cut her some slack. His proximity and her helplessness raised the hairs on the back of her neck. This man could kill with impunity, did he rape too?

"If you promise not to scream I'll take that off."

She looked at the proffered bottle of water and decided to play ball. The tissues had really dried her mouth. Besides, if she screamed he'd just knock her unconscious again and she couldn't risk that. She didn't know where she was or how long she had been out for. She had to be alert and ready for any opportunity to escape him if she was to get home to her daughter in one piece. Keira nodded her agreement, trying to keep calm. She thought of her family and just as quickly elbowed the thought aside, the raw pain of the possibility of losing them threatening to overwhelm her.

 

[The_PG]

Mr. Harrison nodded as if they were in agreement and carefully undid the knot in his tie. He let her spit out one or two of the tissues before tiring of her efforts and finishing the removal himself with his fingers. Her dry lips and mouth felt odd, so he quickly cracked open a water bottle and let her sip before capping it and putting it back on the chair. He then opened the band-aid's and children wipes he'd also purchased. Carefully he cleaned the small cut on her forehead where he had smashed it with metal, but he did not apologize or even take notice of her cringing as the alcohol content from the wipes burned a little as it touched her open skin. Once finished cleaning he placed a band-aid and firmly patted it down before giving her another sip of water.

He proceeded to drain the rest of the bottle before reaching up into the passengers seat and taking his backpack. He let it rest on his lap as he searched through it. The weapons and ammo he placed in a shoulder strap and harness that was also stored in the backpack. Those went under his jacket which hid them very well, but he knew that he would need to change clothes, and fast.

Next he removed the packet of documents, seemingly forgetting about the woman sitting next to him, and began going through them carefully. Pouring over every detail of every item. Several passports that contained his face, but different names were amongst the pile. They were the confusing part; was he Harry Reid? John Verlander? Ben Michigan? Ryan Cook? Alphonso Ortega? It didn't make any sense. Mr. Harrison's, his, first name was Ryan. Ryan Harrison.

He decided for now he would stick with that one, but he was sure it was being tracked.

Tracked... Tracked... Tracked...

Glancing up he sough and found the woman's purse. He quickly snatched it and removed the cell phone, then took the battery out and tossed the phone back in the bag. He kept the battery in his jacket pocket. A quick shuffle through the purse found nothing else electronic, he shoved it between him and woman without another thought before turning back to his documents. There were receipts, lots of receipts from down in Rio. Restaurant's, hotels, car rentals, you name it. He frowned suddenly, there was a guest badge from a Pharmaceutical company. That was important, he could tell; it went into his jacket pocket. Various bits and pieces of scribbled on paper that he could not make out, but the handwriting looked familiar. A strange thought took hold of him.

He reached back into the woman's purse and removed a pen; remembering it's exactly location without needing to search from his previous glance. He scribbled on the back of a dinner check. Sure enough, it was his handwriting on the notes. He put them with his guest pass.

The last items were two identically colored cards. One with phone numbers. The other with bank account numbers. No names. He frowned and added them to his jacket pocket. Finally he broke out the money and split up the brick. Shoving several blocks into his pockets, the rest into empty clip holders for his pistol ammo around his ribcage.

Experimentally he shrugged and tilted from side to side. It didn't limit his flexibility that much.

Finally he turned back to the woman. She was watching him curiously until he looked at her. He took another bottle of water and opened it, along with some chips, he fed her a few of them and let her take a sip or two of water as he thought about what he should do next. First, he would need to loose the car, his clothes, and get both a new car and new set of clothes. He wouldn't be able to get a new car without ID, and by now his information would ball over the place... But not hers. He glanced at her quickly and began moving immediately, sliding into the front seat and starting up the car as he pulled out his map. In roughly five seconds he located the best used car dealer for him to travel towards. It was about twelve miles away, away from the interstate. A little further then several that were closer to the interstate, but that made it all the more worth it.

"I need you for one more thing," He explained without looking at the woman as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed west. Knowing exactly where he was going without a second glance at the map.

"You're going to buy me a car, so i can get away, but first some clothes. Then I'll let you go, don't scream, don't draw attention and you'll be back on your way to wherever you were going in a bit."

 

[fuckmeat]

She sat there and tried to figure him out while he let her drink water and patched her up. His first words to her still rang in her ears, jarring with this stranger's current status as fugitive kidnapper.

I need your help.

Any self respecting fugitive hostage taker would say something like 'Do exactly as I tell you if you want to live through this.' Possibly punctuated with an expletive or two. Nothing about this man made sense to Keira and she was an intelligent, intuitive woman. Now, instead of trying to put the fear of God into her, he was tending to her most pressing needs. He knew what he was doing though, he had fought his way out of that airport in only the way a highly trained agent or assassin of some kind could possibly manage. Various implausible James Bond-esque scenarios fell through Keira's mind as she sat compliantly and let him affix the band aid to her forehead. She recognised her own whimsical impulse to want to believe good of this man and consciously checked it. She could smell his sweat and cologne as he worked on her, it was an oddly intimate thing, to be bound in the back of a car with him. Her thoughts swung towards Patrick and she headed them off, swallowing hard. Now was simply not the time.

He didn't say anything else to her and Keira elected to just observe him for the moment, watching silently as he retrieved his backpack and started going through his stuff. He removed his jacket and donned a shoulder harness with practised ease. She could smell the recently fired handgun as he tucked it under his arm. He went through some documents, not troubling to conceal them from her and Keira focused on them avidly, scanning them for some clue as to who he was and what manner of shit he was up to his eyeballs in. He had a whole bunch of passports with different nationalities, names and pictures of himself in various guises. She made some mental notes.

His next act was to rummage in her bag for her cell and remove the battery. Keira's eyes widened in panic, her only link to her family being severed before her eyes.

"Please." She begged him, revealing her English accent for the first time. "I have a husband and daughter at home. They'll worry about me. Don't take my phone. I promise I won't use it." She lied, doing a pretty convincing job of appearing genuine, given the circumstances.

He ignored her, searching her bag and then fiddling about with the contents his own. Keira watched with interest as he examined each item. He had plenty of cash but it was the jumble of receipts and cards he was interested in. He didn't seem to recognise his own stuff, which suggested it wasn't his stuff, Keira mused, morbidly fascinated with her abductor.

Then he did the most curious thing. He wrote on a scrap of paper and held his own writing to other notes that were clearly written by the same hand. He appeared not to recognise his own handwriting. Keira mentally shook herself at that point, deciding she was getting too fanciful and reading ridiculous things into the body language of a total stranger.

When he finally turned back to her, he dropped her gaze. Keira Scott, a highly trained PR pitbull who had spent most of the last few weeks telling an A list Hollywood actor to burn in hell and refrain from contacting her client, suddenly couldn't look this man in the eye. Before she had time to wonder much about that, he offered her more water and fed her some crisps. She ate and drank willingly, aware that she needed to keep her strength up despite the fear writhing in her gut. She sighed with relief when he got out of the car, watching as he settled himself in the driver's seat and pulled out of the gas station.

"I need you for one more thing. You're going to buy me a car, so i can get away, but first some clothes. Then I'll let you go, don't scream, don't draw attention and you'll be back on your way to wherever you were going in a bit."

She sat and contemplated this latest twist. Was he really stupid enough to hand her a wad of cash and let her walk into a used car place? She could easily raise the alarm there and get somebody to call the cops. Even if the money wasn't counterfeit or marked somehow, a stack of bills that crisp and shiny were bound to arouse suspicion, especially in the hands of some foreign woman like she was. This was why he was fixing her up and feeding her though, he wanted her to trust him. If he didn't need her to buy him a car she could be dead by now for all she knew.

"What the hell are you running from?"

She couldn't help asking.

 

[The_PG]

After straightening the car and checking all of his mirrors carefully, Mr. Harrison... Ryan glanced up into the mirror as the woman asked her question with a considerably heavy accent that he'd noticed, but not gave any thought when she had pleaded for him to leave the phone alone. British certainly, but he couldn't quite place the locality, in the end he decided she traveled to much to have an exact dialect mastered. Definitely an international woman, but most certainly not from the United States. Would that be a problem at the car dealership? Probably not. Not with cash. He didn't have a good answer for her, so he gave her a bad one with a slight shrug and one last glance through the mirror.

"The men from the airport. The government."

He added the last bit when he remembered she had asked what instead of who.

It didn't make one bit of a difference to him if she knew that, but if he told her the true answer to her question; that he didn't know, she might panic and that was the last thing he needed right then. Either his blank face or the answer itself satisfied her for the moment, and she quietly watched block after block of Florida housing and shopping pass by. A quick calculation in his head put Ryan and the woman at the car dealership in four or five minutes, if the map was correct geographically. It was. They arrived four minutes and fifteen seconds after he had made the calculation, but Ryan drove past the dealership until he found a parking lot that was hidden from the streets and overhead by high overhanging palm trees and a hedge of some sort.

He gathered everything he thought they would need, and quickly slipped into the backseat to unbind the woman. He took her wrists after removing the chord and rubbed each vigorously. The red skin quickly began to blend with the pearl white on her wrist as the blood moved back into normal circulation. He opened the door and slipped back out of the car, and then motioned for her follow him.

Once outside he split open one of the fresh packs of bills, and counted out five thousand dollars in twenties. He then wiped both his hands on the dirty tire before counting three-thousand dollars worth from the five, and that money he handed to the woman. The other two grand he counted and handed to her as well, but made sure she took it with the opposite hand.

"Put them inside your pockets. Good. Now," He flipped open her passport and wallet. "Keira," He continued as he removed her British drivers license and frowned at it. Unfortunately it looked nothing like the American version, "I want you to find the worst dressed sales manager, and don't allow the first one to help you. Find the worst dressed, male sales person. Not female. Once you find him you need to have him show you a car near the edge of the lot. The rest is very simple, you offer him the three thousand. Make sure to show him the cash. Flash it in front of his face. If he wavers, say, but do not show him, that you have another thousand. If he still holds out you add five hundred to that. Then you offer him the last five hundred if he doesn't budge."

"What if he still refuses?" She asked immediately.

Ryan shrugged, but she was bright enough to know what that meant.

"You'll be close, won't you?"

He nodded before propelling her towards the dealership. Stepping next to her he locked his arm around hers so that to anyone else they would appear a happy couple; he even smiled genuinely at an elderly lady who smiled back and muttered that they were such a cute looking couple. Leaning over to apparently whisper something funny or romantic Ryan said softly without any sense of passion. Neither compassion or suspicion crossed his face.

"If you want to see your daughter again you'll make this happen Keira. Good luck."

With a final, but gentle push towards the front door Ryan turned away and continued to walk towards the end of the block. Leaving Keira free for the moment, but in a very dangerous position to be in. He had stated the facts matter-of-factly, and without realizing it they were already facts written in stone. If she double crossed him she would die; even if that meant he would get caught. It was simply ingrained. It would be.

 

[fuckmeat]

He told her he was running from the government and said it with an air of finality that dissuaded her from questioning him further. He was hardly likely to launch into a monologue about his latest dastardly plan like a B movie villain and he could just as easily be lying to her, making whatever he said irrelevant anyway. He drove on in silence for a bit. Although he had a map he'd hardly glanced at it, giving Keira the impression that he knew the local area. She didn't know enough about Americans to have any clue where in the USA he was from and it occurred to her that his generic sounding accent was probably deliberately contrived.

She got a little annoyed when he parked so far away. She knew he wouldn't trust her with a huge wad of cash this far from the dealership, which meant he would be accompanying her. Great. He killed the engine and came around to the back to untie her. Keira tried not to appear physically intimidated by him but if was difficult. The man was over 6ft of highly trained killer who could swat her like a bug. Adrenaline made his touch electric as he unbound her, pausing to rub her wrists and ankles. Keira fought to keep her breathing even and her posture somewhat relaxed.

It was good to get out of the car and breathe fresh air again. Keira listened intently as he gave her his instructions. She repeated them back to him and then they walked to the dealership, his arm clamped around her. Keira tried her best to appear relaxed but she wasn't the consummate actor her captor was. He had charmed some old woman before they even got to the car lot. Keira realised she still didn't even know his name. He leaned down and she had to fight the urge to flinch. The tension in her elicited a gentle squeeze from him, a clear warning. His breath was hot on her ear and his gentle murmur shot straight down her spine.

"If you want to see your daughter again you'll make this happen Keira. Good luck."

Keira's eyes flashed with rage but only for a moment. It was a cheap shot, to make her think of her daughter when she was about to try and pull this off for him. He pushed her and she made herself walk away calmly. A smart and obsequious guy immediately approached her. Keira drew herself up and in her cut glass English accent announced that she was just looking around for now. She managed to stare him down despite being nearly a foot shorter than him and he scurried away.

She found the salesman she was looking for in the back lot. Keira stared around at the cars and swallowed. She knew nothing about American cars, they all looked enormous to her. The salesman caught her eye and she smiled at him. He was in his late 30s, hispanic with a ridiculous moustache and a hideous dark green suit. He introduced himself as Raul. Keira fielded his questions about what she was looking for and simply walked across the lot to make him follow her, because she didn't have a clue what to choose. She spotted a black sedan at the edge of the lot that looked like it was in good condition and moved towards it. The price in the window read $3,495. Raul went into paroxysms of admiration as though she had just picked out a priceless work of art. Clearly, he needed a sale.

"Oh ma'am I can see you have an eye for a bargain. A 2007 Grand Prix. It's in very good condition, only 96,000 on the clock. We only got it in a few days ago and it won't be here long ma'am, I can assure you."

Keira switched off her iron clad aloofness and went seamlessly into little girl lost mode, nodding in agreement as though Raul was the world authority on used motor vehicles, her eyes full of counterfeit trust. Raul swelled with pride and sniffing an imminent sale, moved closer to her. Keira, sniffing the sweaty body inside his cheap suit, moved a step back.

"You want to take her for a test drive? I would be happy to accompany you."

"Um... I don't really have time for a test drive and I'm sure it's in good condition." She lied. "I've never bought a car in the United States before, is there a lot of paperwork?"

"Yeah, there's paperwork but I can help you with that, it won't take long ma'am." He gushed, unable to believe his luck with this apparently dumb Brit. Keira pulled the first wad of bills from her pocket, still keeping her tone light and conversational.

"I'd really prefer it if there wasn't any paperwork. I can give you three thousand dollars in cash."

Raul froze, suddenly way out of his depth. He shifted from foot to foot and then looked over his shoulder at the dealership office.

"I don't know lady, I never done that before. And the price is $3,495. You want that car and no paperwork, you gotta give me more than that." His eyes gleamed, clearly wondering what she'd part with. Keira pretended to deliberate for a moment, thumbing the large stack of bills. She kept herself out of Raul's reach. The last thing she wanted to have to do was go back and report that she'd been mugged.

"Ok. You seem to know a good deal when you see one Raul, so I will give you four thousand. Cash in your hand. That's my final offer though. There are plenty of other dealerships."

Raul stared at her stack of bills, mesmerised.

Within less than fifteen minutes, Keira was driving the car away from the lot. She still had a thousand dollars too, more than enough to get far away from here and find a consulate to help her get home. She looked around but couldn't see him, though she knew he wouldn't be far away. Now she had got him the car and was no longer useful he could very well kill her and she couldn't risk that. Keira turned towards the main road out of town and forced herself to drive at a sensible speed. If she could just get out of this town and away from her abductor, she could go home and on her own terms too.

 

[The_PG]

The moment Keira had closed the sale Ryan was moving.

He was banking on two things, but conscious of many more. He knew that nearly all Grand Prix's locked automatically once going into drive, but most used cars did not come with air conditioning that worked. In the sunny ninety-three degree heat that meant the windows on the Grand Prix would most assuredly be rolled down all the way. He knew also that red lights were quite long in southern Florida. The last two things he was banking on were Keira's decision to flee, and that since she did not know the area she would go back the way she came. In order to do this she would need to turn left, which was about the highest chance of a red light on the street.

He began walking across the street diagonally after she had passed him by; staying in her blond spot until he was ten feet from the vehicle.

"Hey honey!" He said loudly as he popped open the rear door and slid inside to belay any do-gooder of thoughts that this was a robbery. It would help that since they were both staying the car, no one would think anything was wrong.

"Good job." He commented plainly as he opened the map he had brought with him and gazed at it for a few seconds before returning it to it's place in his pocket. She was heading the right direction and although he wanted to stay away from the interstate it really was the fastest way out of the area and that more than anything was what he needed to be doing. Without any luck it'd be twelve hours before the police found his dumped car and questioned the used car lot people. With any luck it'd be twenty-four hours before they did any of that, and it would be well before then that he was out of the state at the very least. Hopefully he'd have switched cars once more by then too. The only question he had left was what to do with her. His eyes glanced at the rear view mirror and caught her staring back at him. She dropped his gaze quickly; probably concerned about the money and trying to get away from him. Neither really bothered him.

He'd been counting on loosing all five grand, and her running away.

At this point he was up one thousand dollars and she had tried to run.

Leaning forward as he made his decision Ryan pushed his hand into her pocket and wiggled it around until he found the bills. He removed them quickly before sitting back and shoving them back into his own pocket. With a quick look at the mirror he said quietly, "You're going to have to accompany me until I stop for the night. You know what I look like and what direction I'm heading, if I let you go now the police will gain all the advantage they lost. In the morning I'll be gone and you won't know which way. Just follow the signs for Jacksonville now."

For the first time he wasn't planning. After telling her what to do he just sat back and relaxed. A slight tendril came weaving through his mind, and it felt like it was coming from his hands of all places. The memory suddenly broke, and he remembered sliding his hands down her pockets and over her thighs as he breathed in Keira's womanly scent. The eroticism of the memory startled him. It hadn't felt like that when he was doing it, but now his mind looked upon it fondly. How strange... With a shake of his head he glanced out the window and tried... Tried to remember.

Bits and pieces came floating back to him. Two chairs. Men with guns in black suits. Two men with brown, bloody bags over there head... Then nothing. He tried to remove the masks, but he couldn't see their faces try as he might. After hours of trying to recall he stopped bothering, and instead concentrated on the road.

Once they were out of Florida and in Georgia he had Keira pull over at a large JCPenny's.

"Come with me," He stated coolly as he slipped out of the car.

Together they went into the men's section and Ryan picked out several outfits. He noticed his eyes were drawn mostly to muted colors, but sharp clothes that could be worn to a funeral, church service, or even just to work every day without being looked down upon as a sloppy or over-the-top dresser. He also picked up toiletries and had Keira get an outfit for herself. He made sure it was a light summer dress, and had her change into it before they left. The suit made her stand out far too much. He also snatched a pair of athletic shorts and shirts for the both of them. Once he paid for everything they left together, filled up the car, and drove a little further until he had Keira get off the highway and drive about a half hour on a local route west. Finally he found a nice, out of the way hotel that he had her stop at. He paid for one room with one big bed to avoid suspicion.

Once inside the room Ryan waited for Keira to enter the bathroom before stripping and pulling on a new suit. He tucked his pistol into the waistband and didn't bother putting his shirt back on for the moment.

Instead he flicked on the news, and wasn't surprised to hear the announcers womanly voice begin describing today's events at the airport.

Glancing over as the bathroom door opened, he asked, "Are you hungry?"

 

[fuckmeat]

Keira's heart sank as he dived into the car. She hadn't really expected to get very far but it was still bitterly disappointing. At least she'd had the sense to being her purse, because otherwise it would have got left behind in the car they'd dumped. She jumped, startled as his hands came around her seat, searching for his money. His touch was hard and assessing, the latent strength in him setting her on edge. She exhaled as his hands move away, unaware that she'd been holding her breath.

"You're going to have to accompany me until I stop for the night. You know what I look like and what direction I'm heading, if I let you go now the police will gain all the advantage they lost. In the morning I'll be gone and you won't know which way. Just follow the signs for Jacksonville now."

Keira scowled at him in the mirror.

"You told me that once I got you the car I'd be on my way. Now it's once we get to Jackson and in Jackson it'll be something else, right? I'm not bloody stupid. You have your car and your money. I don't care where you go or what you do. I don't know who you are and I don't know the area."

He wasn't having any of it, he was armed and she wouldn't last five minutes if she ran, foreign as this place was to her.

"Fine. Until you stop for the night." She snapped.

She pulled into the store parking lot he indicated to her and got out the car. Once again his arm went around her but this time his hand settled beneath her jacket, nestled below her ribcage. Keira wasn't at all happy about the intimacy of it but when she tried to manoeuvre and dislodge his hand she found his loose looking arm wouldn't budge. She was only as tall as his shoulder, even in her low heels. Keira was forced to let him steer her into the store.

He shopped swiftly, making her hold the clothes he chose and never letting her out of his reach. It astounded Keira how he could act so normal when she felt so rattled and conspicuous. He took her over to a rack of summer dresses and made her pick one. Keira was not happy about wearing a dress around this guy but he was insistent. Eventually she picked one in a deep blue that was a decent length and less flimsy than the others. It would also look ok with the shoes she already wore.

He made her wear the dress out of the store and if she had disliked his arm tight around her when she had been wearing the suit, it was nothing to how vulnerable she felt beside him in a cotton dress. It was all Keira could do to act even slightly natural. He looked down at her discomfort and smiled broadly, obviously amused, his eyes dancing for about a whole three seconds before he became impassive once more, looking around everywhere as they walked to the car, yet somehow not appearing furtive or paranoid. Keira physically bit down on her anger, heartily fed up with their 'couple' charade. She looked up at him and smiled, looking for all the world like a love struck woman, all except the eyes, which only he could see.

"So which is it then, Ry-Al-Ben-John Verphonsomichitega?"

"Ryan."

"Bollocks. You don't look anything like a Ryan."

They continued on as before, Keira driving and Ryan directing her from the back seat. They arrived at a hotel and Keira parked the car, once more in a lonely and unlit corner of the lot. Ryan got out of the back, cautioning her once more about trying anything stupid.

"So this is you stopping for the night. This is where I get off, right?"

"Not yet."

"You bastard!"

Her raised voice had him turning towards her so fast it made her head spin, drawing himself to full height his jacket blowing open to reveal the gun in the shoulder holster as he strode towards her, his hand lifting towards her face, crowding her backwards and making her stumble. The indifference had left his face and now he blazed with the same complete determination that he had successfully fought his way out of Miami airport with.

"Ok! Ok, I'll behave." Keira raised her hands in a placatory gesture, shaking now from head to foot. Spending the afternoon shopping with him had blunted the edges of her terror somewhat but now it was back in full force, the burning, animalistic fear of leaving her daughter motherless now raw and naked in her wide blue eyes, telling him that there was virtually nothing she would not do. Ryan regarded her for a moment or two, clearly ambivalent about taking her into the hotel lobby with him in case she screamed that she was being held hostage. "I'll be good, I promise. Just please let me go home to my family at the end of this, that's all I ask."

He gripped her forearm and drew her towards him. To any bystander it would look like a romantic gesture but his grip on her as he pulled her into the crook of her arm again was hard and threatening. He walked her to the hotel wordlessly and Keira didn't even flinch when he booked a room with a double bed in it, so determined was she not to anger him again.

He let her freshen up in the bathroom and then asked her if she was hungry. Keira came out to see him watching himself on the news, his face now pictured in a still from the airport's CCTV footage. He was apparently armed, dangerous and not to be approached. No fucking kidding. Keira thought bitterly. Then there she was, pictured as his hostage. They had used the image of her passport control had taken when she first landed in Los Angeles. Keira closed her eyes as the pain her husband must be going through lanced through her gut. She was missing, probably presumed dead. It was surreal.

"I thought I was hungry but I'm really not sure any more. How does it feel to be famous?" She asked. It was only the local news but Keira assumed it must have been reported elsewhere. It would be news in Britain too, because of her nationality.

 

[The_PG]

"I feel important," Ryan said with a frown. He just wished that he knew why he was so famous; absolutely nothing was coming back to him. Nothing at all. The more he thought about it, the less he knew, with a sigh he flicked the TV channels and found that all the major stations had his face and Keira's plastered over them. Her hair and eyes were the most obvious features, but his seemed... Less obvious for some reason; his face was round and plain, and while his eyes were blue like hers they weren't as clear. Not anywhere as crystallized, but they should be he realized. A sudden thought popped into his mind, and he stood, crossed to the sink, and was looking in the mirror without even remembering that Keira was standing there. As he looked in the mirror he realized he'd frightened her, but he didn't mention it.

Carefully, but firmly as if he had done it before, he swiped his finger over his eye and removed the contact. Then he repeated the process with his other eye, and glanced at the mirror. His vision hadn't changed, so obviously they were only for looks. Now, indeed, his eyes did have the same crystallized sharpness that Keira's had.

He glanced over at her, and shrugged his shoulders.

"Interesting," Was his only comment as he returned to his place on the bed.

Once seated again he spoke to her with an occasional glance her way, "You're going to have to fall asleep here with me. It'd look weird if I left anytime soon, but I'll be gone before you wake up and you'll have no clue where I've gone. You have your credit card, and I'm sure as you call the police they'll arrange to get you back to the nearest airport after they debrief you. Sorry, you won't be getting to see your daughter for her birthday."

The shock in her eyes forced Ryan to raise a hand.

"I saw the sticky note in your bag. Don't worry, kids get over these things, and you'll have quite the story for her. Won't you?"

She nodded, albeit with a bit of a struggle. "You can sleep in the sweats or whatever, I don't care. I'm going to order pizza, if you get hungry you're welcome to join me."

Ryan reached for the phone and ordered. Things, seemed to go alright the rest of the night as he waited for Keira to fall asleep. The only interruption to the both of them sitting (her on the chair by the table) was when the pizza arrived. Rather then open the door Ryan ordered Keira into the bathroom, and after leaving a twenty on the table by the door unlocked the door softly so that the delivery guy couldn't hear, and slipped over into the bathroom with her. It was cramped, small, and they were pressed against each other for a few moments as he leaned over to turn on the hot water, waited for the steam to begin filling up the place, and for the second knock at the door. Leaning out from the doorway he yelled, "Yea! It's open, money's on the table, keep the change!"

The nervous young boy opened the door, took the money, left the pizza and hurried away.

Before they could squeeze out of the bathroom Ryan once against brushed past Keira as he turned off the water.

"After you," He said as he waited for her to exit before following and locking the doors.

About an hour later Keira fell asleep on the bed, and Ryan turned the TV off from his spot around the table. He had planned to leave right away, but a sudden exhaustion slipped over him and he decided he could use a little nap first. He slipped onto the bed so smoothly that Keira didn't even shift; he figured she was quite tired too. Sleep came upon him extremely fast, and so did the dreams.

They were mostly just a crazy crisscross of images. Nothing came to his mind fixedly until the face of a young woman, just out of her teens, splattered in front of his eyes. Not in blood. It was just pasted there. She had deep brown eyes that seemed to swirl like chocolate, around and around. Her face was pale, angelic white, and her hair was the same chocolate color as her eyes. The sight of her made Ryan feel good inside. Not just aroused, but happy. He was happy to see her for some reason. She made everything feel right, and he smiled. Both in the dream and in the hotel room next to Keira. Without realizing it his hands reached out in the real world, just as in the dream world, but in the dreamworld her face slipped right through his fingers.

In the real world he took hold of Keira's face so gently that she still didn't wake up.

Quickly Ryan felt his anger rise. Why was she leaving him, no!

"No!"

His eyes flashed open, and before he could think another thought his lips pressed against Keira's, firmly, hard enough to not let her escape. Either physically, or into the continued dark comfort of sleep.

 

[fuckmeat]

She shrank away as Ryan strode to the bathroom mirror with sudden purpose, then watched curiously as his nondescript brown eyes fell away to reveal bright blue irises. His eyes weren't as light as her own, more the blue-grey of a stormy sky but they were very distinctive. Ryan was apparently surprised that he was wearing coloured contacts.

"Interesting." Was all he said.

Keira stared at him, more puzzle pieces falling into place. He hadn't recognised his handwriting either and for a highly trained agent or assassin of some kind, he was rudderless. Ryan turned back to the rest of the news report, now displaying a number to call if the fugitive and his hostage had been sighted. All that skill of his and he had managed to get his face plastered across the news. It didn't add up. He didn't have an elaborate plan that he hadn't told her, he was running on instinct and adrenaline, making it up as he went along. If the guy had skill and money, he must have allies and contacts but to Keira's knowledge he had contacted nobody, despite the seriousness of his situation.

The big picture still eluded her, Keira couldn't make the leap yet from general weirdness to amnesia but there was something fundamental about 'Ryan' that disturbed her. It was in his eyes again for just a moment as he watched the TV and failed to shield his emotions, the kind of unadulterated, uncomprehending panic that only trapped wild animals displayed. And as soon as Keira recognised that emotion for what it was, it had gone again, back beneath his mask.

He moved back and sat on the bed, turning towards her as though suddenly remembering she was there.

"You're going to have to fall asleep here with me. It'd look weird if I left anytime soon, but I'll be gone before you wake up and you'll have no clue where I've gone. You have your credit card, and I'm sure as you call the police they'll arrange to get you back to the nearest airport after they debrief you. Sorry, you won't be getting to see your daughter for her birthday."

Keira regarded him evenly, in no mood to be told that she had to spend yet more time with this guy. His comment about her daughter caused a pang of loss, making Keira cross her arms over her chest, suppressing her tears so hard it felt like her ribcage would shatter. Bastard had nothing to lose and yet he had dragged her away from her family and threatened to kill her just to facilitate his own getaway. He had no clue what he was inflicting on her, probably cared for nothing and nobody. Keira fought hard not to appear contemptuous of him, blinking rapidly to ensure she didn't cry.

He ordered pizza and Keira suddenly realised how long it had been since she had eaten. They sat in silence until the food arrived, each nursing their own thoughts. When the tap came on the door Ryan made her go into the bathroom and after a moment, he joined her. He leaned over her and turned on the shower, pressing into her as steam filled the tiny room. Keira just stood there rigidly, listening as the pizza was delivered. Ryan leaned over her again to turn off the shower and Keira glared at him. He could just as easily have asked her to do it but instead he had forced more physical closeness on her. He didn't seem to be in a hurry to move away from her either. Their dampening bodies pressed together for a long moment. Then, instead of leaving the room, Ryan lingered still, insisting that Keira went first. She could feel his eyes on her as she left the bathroom, the thin fabric of her dress clinging uncomfortably to her sticky skin.

Ryan then stepped out and locked the bedroom door. Keira could have kicked herself. She had just been handed a moment in which to flee but he had had her so flustered that she hadn't even realised. She sat on the room's only chair and ate pizza she didn't want because she knew her body needed it. No way in hell was she sitting on the bed beside him in a damp sundress. Keira was silent and brooding, beginning to wonder if Ryan would ever fuck off and let her go back to her life.

After she ate, Keira locked the bathroom door and took the fastest shower of her life before changing into the sweats. She felt a little better for being clean and covered up but she still eyed the bed warily as Ryan went about his own ablutions. It was a cheap hotel and didn't have the biggest beds in the world. Keira eventually gave in to her fatigue but lay above the covers. In the sweats she was warm enough and she felt safer knowing she wouldn't have to fight her way out of blankets if he tried anything. She lay on her side and brought her hands towards her face. The sight of her wedding ring made her want to dissolve into tears and Keira stroked it gently, willing her husband not to give up on her just yet.

"You better be gone when I wake up." She announced coldly. "I am not going to accept any more reasons to stay with you. I'm going home to my family."

She didn't turn around or try to look at him at all. Keira didn't give a shit what Ryan thought of her words. She soon feigned sleep and after that it didn't take long before she genuinely passed out.

~~~~~​

Keira was having a pleasant dream. She was in Patrick's arms and he was curled behind her, murmuring that it was time they made another baby. She could feel him moving behind her, stirring up her wet heat, then stroking himself as he kissed her neck and prepared to enter her. He pulled her back onto him and she moaned, both in the dream and in the room with Ryan, her body arching a little as her husband's hard cock filled her and his hands slid up her slim curves to toy with her breasts. His lips were on her ear, telling her how beautiful their first son would be.

She woke up as he kissed her, pulling her face towards him and claiming her mouth with a hard urgency Patrick had never used before. Her eyes were still closed as her lips parted and welcomed him, moaning softly at the sensation of his hot tongue probing possessively, his rough stubble grazing her chin.

Stubble? Patrick had a well groomed goatee but was otherwise clean shaven.

Keira's eyes flew open and stared straight into a pair of strange blue eyes. Patrick had warm brown ones. She froze, utterly bewildered in the way only people halfway between sleep and waking can be. The stranger's tongue lashed within her mouth, clearly unimpressed that she had stopped responding. His scent was wrong, his taste, his calloused hand on her jaw, the violent passion of his kiss, it was all completely wrong. Keira cried out in shock and fear, pushing the man away with all her strength and even bringing her knee up between them for good measure. Her eyes were wide with terror and incomprehension, her body stiff with shock. Keira's body still bore the signs of arousal though, the legacy of her dream. Her nipples were hard within the sweats and she wore no bra. Her pussy was moist and hot, ready and aching. A hard pulse went through it as adrenaline flooded her veins, making her back arch reflexively.

 

[The_PG]

Ryan was not sure what had come over him. His gut was clenched tightly as if something so horrible was coming that it could not simply stand for it to happen again. Anger flashed through his veins in a fiery wave. Because whatever was happening it was happening for the second time. It was very clear. He could feel that. It was happening again and it was a bad things. He was loosing something... someone... That he could not stand to loose. Not again. His eyes were not misted over like someone who could not see, but rather so sharply lit that it would be easy for anyone in the waking world to tell that he was seeing things that were really not there. But these things were no wispy ghosts or half remembered faces. These were brilliantly burning bright visions. Real people in real places with real tears and real emotions. It was horribly wrong, and those deep brown eyes were full of sadness, but also an iron will that he'd never seen before. An iron will that he hated. That he was going to break in two.

Then suddenly they were blue and her hair was red.

But he was still going to break them.

Her head suddenly arched away revealing a soft patch of white skin as she thrust her breasts out towards him. Her knee brushed against his crotch; revealing the erection that came with a flood of racing blood and angry heat. Suddenly he raw power burst to life and with a snarl of unintelligent words burst from his mouth as he yanked the small frame and twisted it at the same time.

She landed next to him on her side; facing away. His hand twisted her hair back, continuing her beautiful arch as the other hand pulled down sharply on her panties and sweat pants. The fabric creaked loudly as it was stretched and suddenly pulled down her legs. Ryan was up on his knees, and Keira was rolled to her stomach smoothly. He straddled her legs and aimed his cock, that was sticking out from between his boxers, between her butt cheeks.

Then he pushed forward and the head bounced off her tight asshole before sliding smoothly down into her moist cunt. It was wet, warm, and inviting, but incredibly tight. It had not been used recently, but it was obviously desiring such use powerfully. A tiny squelching sound echoed in the room. Her scream wasn't about the physical pain, for Ryan knew there was little if any besides the tight grasp he had on her hair. It was emotional.

She had been sad for something, but that will... She was sad of something she'd done, but she would have done it again. The light clicked on slowly, and he leaned forward in order to deliver the slim piece of information he'd received.

"Traitor. You fucking traitorous bitch, now I know who you are."

Only he wasn't talking to blue eyed red headed Keira, but rather brownie mystery girl.

The pleasure from his now moist cock was incredible. But Ryan knew he'd done this before, but she hadn't wanted it anymore? Or she had, that, maybe was why she was sad, but she'd betrayed him. Yes, for certain. She had certainly betrayed him and was sad about it... Not this time. She wouldn't escape, she would explain to him once he broke her mind and forced her to talk. She would repent too, and scream that she loved his cock in her wet pussy; that she never wanted anything else. That she was sorry she was so strong willed. Sorry that she had betrayed him. Each thrust brought them both closer to that apology and that ending, so he went faster, and harder; slamming his hips against hers in a desperate effort to change a past that quite possibly did not exist.

 

[fuckmeat]

"No! Get off me! Stop-"

Her protests were abruptly cut off as Keira was flipped over onto her other side. Suddenly is fist was in her hair and he was forcing her sweats down. Her hands flew up to her head and then down to her waistband but he was too fast and too strong. His feral growl made her cry out equally unintelligibly, her terror animalistic and total. She fought hard but there was nowhere to go, he simply pushed her onto her front and straddled her. She was screaming by the time his hard cock started pushing down between her asscheeks but he had her face down in the pillows.

She froze as he entered her, unable to believe it, that she was being raped. Worse than that, her body welcomed him, her pussy flexing on him as he forced his length into her. There was a raw ache in her groin and she had to catch herself in order to keep from pressing back against him reflexively. Keira's conscious mind finally came out swinging and she managed to lift her head.

"Ryan!" She yelled, trying to wake him from whatever trance he was in. The man raping her didn't miss a beat, he apparently had no attachment to the name 'Ryan.' Fantastic. The light beside the bed came on and Keira twisted her upper body until she could look at him, which proved to be a bad idea. His face was contorted with savage rage. He knew he was forcing her and he was enjoying it. Keira opened her mouth to shout again but he got there first, his voice now terrifyingly low pitched and menacing.

"Traitor. You fucking traitorous bitch, now I know who you are."

He punctuated his bizarre accusation with a hard, deep thrust that left Keira crying out into the pillows, her hand clawing the bedcovers. She rallied quickly though, lifting her red, tear streaked face and trying to speak with some degree of clarity.

"No you don't. I'm Keira, the girl you picked up today. I'm not a traitor, I helped you. Fucking hell Ryan, WAKE UP! Get the fuck out of me!"

She tried a different tack then, moving forwards away from his cock, crawling up the headboard and trying to stand on the bed so she could get away.

 

[The_PG]

Screams... Unintelligible screams... The lies. That was always how it went. Screams and lies; lying screaming, and on and on it would go unless he stopped it. This was so familiar but so faintly so. It was just beyond the edges of his memories and he was beginning to grasp it as she moved away with another scream. Screams, loud, noise, police! He had to shut her up and fast. Flying forward with her surprisingly strong pull Ryan slammed forward against Keira and at the same time was able to yank her upwards; pinning her between him, the headboard, and the wall. Rapidly he wrapped one arm under her shoulder and up to her mouth where he gripped tightly and muffled her annoying screams. His thrusts were now up instead of forward, but his powerful legs didn't even notice the change as his other arm slid along the length of Keira's and pushed her hand into the wall firmly to stop her from flailing.

There was a connection between the fucking, the memories, and actions he wanted to take. Drawing the apology from her lips this way had never worked. He remembered now, but it did always leave him feeling better. Just before... Everything went dark, it was better, he would do this as many times as he wanted.

Suddenly he was thrust back to the present, but not fully as he felt the insides of 'her' squeezing him tightly like she always did. It was how he knew. How he knew she would, one time, eventually, apologize for her treachery. All she had to do was admit it and then he would be whole again. They could be together again.

"You know you just have to say it Miriam..." He growled breathlessly in a voice that was dangerously enjoying what it was doing, "If you just told me then it would all go away. You'd never have to see me again... You know that..." The realization was slow in coming, and slightly adjusted the way his hips were pounding into the tiny frame between him. His strokes went from fast and furious to strong and purposeful. The change of a man from knowing wrongly to thinking correctly. "You know that it'll be over..." He whispered; as he felt her flex again around him. A softer, more enjoyable growl left his lips as the pleasure flooded through his veins.

She knew it would be over... They wouldn't... See each other, again.

Once again his hips changed from demanding to coaxing. It was very subtle, but enough. The reaction was just what he wanted; a shudder of equal pleasure to what he was feeling. The sudden emotion that was dropping his heart and constricting his stomach in ways that he could not imagine. The questions did not come though as all of a sudden he was brought into a world of warmth and joy that he had not felt. Everything felt electric. His fingers between hers. His sweaty chest against her back sliding smoothly. Their hips thrusting carefully.

And even though she writhed to free herself Ryan could not, would not let her go.

Not until this feeling... Not until it was finished.

 

[fuckmeat]

Keira hit the wall hard, screaming as he reared up behind her. The left side of her face took the impact, ricocheting off the wall only to be caught in Ryan's huge hand as he silenced her. His palm and fingers occluded both her mouth and nose at first, leaving her bucking for air and facilitating his rape of her. After a long, agonising moment his fingers moved to let Keira breathe through her nose, her short, hard breaths now terrified snorts as she continued to struggle. Ryan kept right on slamming into her, nailing her into hard concrete instead of the mattress, battering her slim hips forwards until they felt like mush. He pinned her hand to the wall and Keira finally admitted defeat, falling still in the hope that Ryan would finish all the sooner if she quit fighting. Her pussy was burning with pain. Ryan was bigger than her husband and far more powerfully built. Her pussy was being annihilated in a way she had never experienced before, her poor clit stretched against the base of his thick shaft as he punched her cervix again and again.

"You know you just have to say it Miriam..."

She wanted to scream her name at him but Ryan had her gagged to tight. She could only yell into his palm in frustration as he spoke to Miriam. He couldn't possibly still be asleep, this had to be something else, some kind of madness.

"If you just told me then it would all go away. You'd never have to see me again... You know that..."

He slowed his pace, dragging his swollen cock in and out of her abused pussy. Whereas he had been irrational and frenzied before, now he was insane but with total determination and control. Keira could do nothing but tremble in his iron grip.

"You know that it'll be over..."

His whisper sent electric shocks shooting down Keira's spine. Whoever this 'Miriam' woman was, Ryan had a thing for her. His thrusts got slower still, grinding her against the wall before pulling back with a beckoning motion that caught Keira's G spot. She felt herself flex on him, then before she knew what was happening her pussy was rippling, sopping wet and on the brink of climax. She moaned helplessly into his hand as her hips shuddered. It was the first sound she had made that wasn't a protest.

Keira began to panic. She did not want to cum onto her abductor's cock while he growled another woman's name. She wanted to be back home with her husband and daughter, with no notion of how it felt to get nailed to the wall by a well endowed psycho rapist. This was all wrong. She couldn't cum, she would despise herself if she did. Keira started fighting him again, hoping that by doing so suddenly she would be able to wriggle free of his grip and at least scream the fucking place down.

 

[The_PG]

There was no escaping whatever part of Ryan's mind that had created what was happening at that very instant. Not for himself, or Keira. Of course, that was assuming either of them wanted to escape at this point. He had felt her warmth earlier, and now it was growing hot once again around his cock; her warm juices coating him completely with every slow penetration of his engorged and steel hard cock. Slight squelching sounds reached Ryan's ears, but did not penetrate whatever barrier was currently between his mind and the conscious world. The moan, however, did. He felt goosebumps trickle upwards along his spine as the last tendrils of the molten noise drained down through his ears into his very soul, or so it seemed. For a second he paused. Not a single movement to be felt or sound to be heard besides their heavy breathing. Keira, or Miriam, through her nose and Ryan through his slightly agape mouth. The moment was perfect. Then the urge to continue returned and Ryan gently removed his hips, before sliding them forward once again.

As she began to struggle anew he recognized immediately that it was a different kind of struggle. It was more desperate, but less organized. Something was going to happen, her mind realized, that her body wanted but she could not accept. Not yet anyways.

"I know..." Ryan breathed heavily against the back of Keira's neck, "I know you cannot accept it... You think it is the end..." Tenderly he kissed the back of her neck; feeling the tiny hairs stand up on end in fear, or excitement. "But it is not, not the end for me... Or for you... Just... Stop... Stop fighting Miriam..."

After the brief struggle he'd once again regained control and stopped their moving altogether. He tenderly, if not lovingly, rubbed his cheek against her shoulder and shed light kisses across her skin up to her neck and around to her cheek. Closer and closer to her lips; waiting for the moment that she would arch and turn to return his gesture of intimacy. The moment hung gently in the balance. Ryan could feel the impossible struggle racing through her veins as her body pulsed and shifted where it was wrapped around him. A slight tremor of fear ripped through his body as the mere possibility that she would not turn crossed his mind.

The shudder shifted their bodies together. Gently dragging his manhood millimeters out, before pushing it back by millimeters. Immediately he knew it was a good thing. Whatever she had been about to say was cut in half by a gentle, but rather breathless gasp that escaped her mouth.

"Please Miriam..." He asked softly, as he moved again subtly.

 

[fuckmeat]

"I know you cannot accept it... You think it is the end..." Tenderly he kissed the back of her neck; feeling the tiny hairs stand up on end in fear, or excitement. "But it is not, not the end for me... Or for you... Just... Stop... Stop fighting Miriam..."

His breath was hot on her neck. Their bodies were melded together now by a sheen of sweat, sliding against each other with an ease and sensitivity that was truly obscene. Still he was calling her Miriam but Keira was now beginning to doubt the wisdom of trying to drag this lunatic from his reverie. What if this was something she shouldn't know about him? What if he killed her for that knowledge?

He started kissing her shoulder and the back of her neck, trailing a line of fire across her skin as adrenaline raced beneath it. She would have to decide soon, what she was going to do. Her body was so close to climax, now she had suffered this much and already been soundly raped by him the wisest course of action was probably to stop fighting and let him cum. Nothing else was going to snap Ryan - or whoever the fuck he was - out of this, certainly not her struggling against him. His body trembled and his lips paused, Ryan's body tensed but not with impending orgasm, which made Keira panic. Her own body began to shiver violently with terror and the effort that had gone into denying her arousal throughout his assault. Keira licked her dry lips and tried to speak.

"Ry-"

He moved inside her, only slightly but with that same beckoning motion that caught her G spot every fucking time. Keira gasped and shuddered. She was so close now that it almost didn't matter what she did. Fine. Let the psycho rapist have his fantasy fuck. She remembered belatedly that this man wasn't Ryan, just as she wasn't Miriam.

"Please Miriam..."

His lips were working their way ever closer to her own and she did not know what to say to him. Saying the wrong thing could get her killed. Out of time, Keira acted recklessly, turning to kiss him hard on the mouth. She bucked her hips back against him, planning to spur him on until this horrific ordeal was finally over. Keira wasn't on any kind of contraception so she just hoped he remembered this in the morning when she would have to ask him to let her get an emergency contraceptive pill.

But no, he was going to be gone by the morning.

Her own arousal built but she slowly pushed herself down onto his cock regardless, again and again, as deep as he could go, until he made his move and took what he wanted from her. Anything to make him cum and finally get him out of her life. Her tongue lashed within his mouth, kissing him with wild desperation, praying he didn't turn on her.

 

[The_PG]

Finally she gave in. He felt his heart explode with joy and happiness while the rest of his body exploded in an electric thrill of pleasure. It coursed through his veins; from the very tips of his fingers and toes to the center of it all deep in his gut, just above his groin. The feeling grew with every frantic stroke that Keira made back onto his cock, he groaned and thrust back against her thrusts. Slamming their wet bodies together with audible force that broke through Ryan's barrier for the first time, but it did not trigger an automatic response. It only added to the growing tension in his gut that was extended slowly through his groin and out towards the tip of his wet dick. As soon as it did, they would both know. In fact it was happening and as the pleasure surrounded his conscious it ate away at whatever dream had taken such a firm hold on his mind.

Slowly the veil lifted until at the exact moment he began to cum it was lifted entirely.

Both of his eyes grew more blue as the surprise and shock registered firmly upon them, but Keira took no notice as her eyes were closed; lost in some passion as they kissed deeply and powerfully. Her tiny, but powerful tongue strove with his own to sensitively touch as much wet skin inside of his mouth as she could reach. At first it was only surprise, but seconds later the euphoric pleasure crashed down upon him again with another violent shudder. A shudder that was followed almost immediately by a powerful surge of his hips; thrusting Keira into the wall and Ryan behind her once again. Pinning her there as they kissed, and rubbed together violently. The thrusts he made now were mere imitations of those before, as his abdomen remained glued to her back while he pumped hot seed deep into her tightly squeezing cunt. The feeling was so natural that Ryan didn't think anything of it. Indeed, he was hardly thinking at all.

"Miriam..." He whispered one final time as a last tendril of dream and memory crossed in his head and slipped out of his lips before he could stop it. The word resounded in ears that were no longer clogged with the same dream, but the echo of memory quickly burned the name firmly into the present. "Keira..." He then breathed.

Her bodies reaction was not surprising. She tensed; pulling a last groan and powerful, but clear shot of cum from deep within Ryan's balls. He breathed heavily against her shoulder as she continued to shiver in fear or pleasure he did not know. He could not remember. In fact he was at an utter loss as to how the entire situation could have possibly came about.

As the intense pleasure fled, a more soothing, gentler warmth took over what the heat had left behind.

Cautiously Ryan backed away and brought Keira down onto the bed. As badly as she wanted to fight him. Something held her back. He was glad, for he was unsure of how he would react to such a fight right now. Everything was so confusing. Why had he called her Miriam, and why had they even fucked in the first place? There was no way that he would even begin to believe that she would let him, and whether or not he forced her to begin with, at the end, the part that he remembered. She was certainly fucking him back. She had enjoyed it to some extent and for the life of him Ryan could not figure out why or how, he wanted to ask, but he was afraid that would just unleash whatever fight she had left inside of her.

He sat back in the bed heavily. Bouncing slightly as he eyed her across the bed.

She was struggling with something, and Ryan knew he had to act before she figured it out.

"Who is Miriam?" He asked suddenly; without even thinking about how she might react to the question. In fact, at first, he assumed that he had only thought the question until he looked up and saw the emotions rolling across Keira's face. He was sorry, immediately, that he had asked the question aloud.

 

[fuckmeat]

Keira couldn't have held on for another moment, not even if there had been a gun to her head. Ryan was arguably more lethal empty handed than most men would be with a gun but that was beside the point. Keira's body crunched into orgasm and she bucked on the cock buried inside her shamelessly. Ryan carried on moving inside her, stirring everything up and dragging out the climax as her frenzied bucking gradually slowed right down to a reflexive undulation against his hot skin.

She could feel by the way Ryan was going as deep as he could, slow shuddering thrusts that were more a grinding of the hips than anything else. Suddenly he was there, she could feel him bursting inside her, filling her with so much hot seed that it had to have been a while since he got laid. He kept her pinned to the wall and continued his slow thrusts as he came. Kiera continued kissing him passionately, too terrified to break the spell by pulling away. His lips pulled away from hers and Keira could see that his eyes were still far away.

"Miriam..."

His eyes focused and finally connected with her own, Keira froze.

"Keira." His body jerked within her own, he was still spurting cum into her body.

Keira suddenly felt physically ill. This was her body and he was using it like an inflatable doll while he had a flashback to some other woman. Keira had pledged her body to her husband in marriage. She had carried their daughter within the womb that Ryan was filling with his seed. She had given birth to her little girl via the canal he had just raped. When she got back home to her family she was going to have to tell her husband what had happened to her and get tested for pregnancy and STDs. It just wasn't fair. Patrick was a good man but he wasn't a saint and something like this could wreck a marriage, for him to know that some other man had used her.

Ryan moved away and let her down onto the bed. She wanted to kick him in the fucking nuts but Keira simply didn't have the nerve. She scooted across the bed, as far away from him as she could get, covering her body with the bedclothes. His cum was dripping from her battered pussy. Keira turned away from him, intending to go to the bathroom and scrub his vile ejaculate out of her body. Ryan sat back on the bed, apparently sated, as well he fucking might be.

"Who is Miriam?"

Keira's mouth fell open. It added another layer of insult to injury for Ryan to not even know who Miriam was. Her fingers gripped the bedclothes tightly, itching to claw his fucking face off.

"You're asking me? Miriam's the woman you thought you were raping!"

Keira got out of the bed and stalked towards the bathroom... well, she would have stalked but she had to keep her legs together to avoid dripping Ryan's cum onto the floor.

"You asked for my help. You said you'd be gone by the morning. I have a husband and a daughter. Now I have your fucking cum inside me, I'm not on the pill and God alone knows what infections you're carrying if rape is your idea of fun! And on top of all that, you don't even know who the fuck Miriam is! Well whoever she is, she's one lucky bitch, because she obviously managed to get away from you!"

Keira slammed the bathroom door and stepped into the shower. She spent some time there, washing herself and crying.

 

[The_PG]

Keira's explosion and ranting were not only expected, but necessary. Had they not happened Ryan would have thought there was something seriously wrong with her. He wished that he hadn't opened his mouth, but now that it had happened some other emotion struck him. It was unexpected and totally uncalled for, but he was angry with her. She didn't understand him, or what had happened, why the fuck should she the one getting angry at him? Well, the easy argument was that he had just raped her, but surprisingly enough Ryan still felt angry. He wanted to teach her to keep her mouth shut, and ask her how she would like not knowing a single thing that had happened to her since... Since when? What was the last thing he could remember? Before the airport... Before the airplane... What was it... For what felt like seconds, but was really nearly a full ten minutes he thought as hard as he could.

Something trickling down over the hair on his upper lip jarred him from trying to recall anymore.

Reaching up he touched his nostril and brought his hand out in front of his face with a frown. The crimson liquid nearly reflected his image, but it did not quite succeed. He rubbed his fingers together thoughtfully and wiped the small droplet away from his nose, and that was all that came of it. The next thing he heard was Keira cursing him once again.

Turning sharply he snapped softly, "Shut the fuck up."

Not a single thing had come from that entire ten minute session. Yet, he knew how to drive, he knew how things worked. He knew how his gun worked, he knew how to dial a phone, walk, and talk. In several languages he was sure. He knew how to read and write, and do all these basic things. Except he couldn't remember learning a damn one of them or how the hell he got onto a stupid plane. He was fed up, and knowing his own limits he gave Keira a quick glance before grabbing his clothes and dressing quickly. He packed everything that he'd bought and stood at the door. With a sigh, he thought about saying sorry, goodbye, or anything else. Instead he just gave her a lost, weary, and rather dangerous look before talking quickly and curtly, "I'm leaving. You're staying. Do whatever you want. Tell them whatever you want about me. Just do not mention Miriam, I don't know who she is or why I wanted to... Rape her... But it would probably be better if you didn't mention that I've told you anything. They want me dead, and perhaps if they think you know something. They may want you dead. I won't be watching over your shoulder though, so if you feel compelled to tell them. Go ahead. Good luck."

That was it. He was gone. The door shut firmly, but quietly behind, like a wraith in the middle of the night. He walked hurriedly to the car, turned it on, and left. Making sure that he drove well out of sight of the hotel just in the slightest case that she was able to see him. But then as quickly as he could he doubled back and parked across the street from the hotel. He cracked the windows and turned off the engine. He waited patiently, content to wait until the morning if he needed to. The people that picked up Keira would not be the simple local police, though they might be used for a little bit at first, of that he was certain. That was why he had given her the warning earlier. Hopefully the goons that picked her up would lead him to someone who knew anything at all, and before the end of forty-eight hours Ryan knew that he would that knowledge. What happened to Keira was irrelevant now.

She was just a piece in a much larger puzzle. A puzzle that Ryan tried to solve as he waited for sirens, or darkly tinted BMW's. Anything that signaled government. He wasn't sure exactly what he was looking for, but he knew that he would recognize it the moment he saw it. So he took the time to scribble on a pad of paper. Copying his receipts, the names, the numbers.

Finally the name Miriam... With three large question marks and an underline.

The morning light brought the first patrol cars. This was predictable. Keira was a woman who needed to be in control, and through the night she had little to none, and likely needed to regain her composure. There was no doubt in his mind that this was the reason she had waited, not any pity or honor in the deal they had struck the night before. The first patrol car was the only local police that ever showed, and soon after the first government vehicles began to arrive the squad car left. Albeit the driver was somewhat reluctant. No news vans, or choppers came. That was an interesting coincidence after all the media publication his kidnapping had gotten the night before. He watched carefully as several cars arrived. First one black coupe. Followed shortly by a sedan and two SUVs, then two white, unmarked vans. They would be the forensic teams, or the extractors... In the end Ryan decided they were forensic, since he doubted this agency would be brave enough to torture someone in a hotel. A place that was beginning to grab attention. Certainly the patrolman had tipped off the press to gain a little coverage for himself and his department.

The sedan had someone of importance. The other agents reported to that car, and the man who stepped from it was not dressed in the typical black & white, but rather a dark brown suit. He wore regular classes too, not the typical thick shades. That man. He needed to talk to him, but all of a sudden the caravan was moving with Keira having been rushed into the sedan. The three cars pulled onto the street rapidly, and took off at high speeds. They didn't use lights, thankfully, or else Ryan would have been screwed. Another benefit was that it meant this was indeed the people he needed to talk to. Not an extension of their reach through the government, like at the airport. Ryan followed nearly ten cars behind. His sharp eyes gauging every light, turn, and alteration in the caravan's speed. Keeping up with them, and behind them enough not to draw attention to himself.

So far he had no idea where they were going, but he assumed wherever it was... It wasn't the airport that was for sure, and neither would it be a public or state office. Perhaps a front company? Yes, indeed. WillCo and Brothers.

All of a sudden Ryan had a sinking feeling in his gut.

What if they weren't going to simply question Keira? It would be easy for the trooper who had found her to have an accident, and then the reports would come in that her body was found in an abandoned dumpster some miles from the reported sighting of her and her kidnapper. Certainly Ryan would then not be able to argue with the perception that he had killed her after she'd served her purposes. Rape and protection. He sped up just a little bit. To make sure they weren't simply going for an alley, but no. All three cars slipped into the garage of the massive office building and doors closed swiftly behind them. Ryan drove straight past. A small smirk on his lips as he pulled around the block to the opposite side of the building and parked. He was good at this. Very good, and now that he had a plan he found all of the not knowing and all of the anger leave his body in one huge wave. He felt cleansed, and ready.

((I can add more if you need me too, but I think you can imagine the reasons they're taking her inside. Ryan will be coming in after her at some point.))

 

[fuckmeat]

Keira had paced the room and cried for some hours, on and off. Ryan's presence had kept her wound tight, living from moment to moment, simply trying to survive his abduction of her. Now all that pressure had walked out into the night and she felt able to give way to her feelings. Sometime before the sun came up she dialled 911 and spoke to the police, who swiftly sent a patrol car round. The two officers who attended were pleasant and concerned, though because Keira was so upset they had some trouble with her British accent. By the time other cars began to arrive she was already sick of talking about Ryan. A forensic team arrived and were annoyed that she had showered. Keira hadn't even thought about it. They took biosamples from her anyway, took the sweats as evidence and then left.

More cars kept coming. News reporters arrived outside the hotel and Keira was utterly mortified. Then a man in a brown suit strode in, calling himself Joe Mitchell and claiming to be CIA. He dismissed the local police and then waved a photo of Ryan in her face. She confirmed it was him but said she recognised the shot from one of his other passports. The man said he needed to question her further and wouldn't be convinced that she had already said everything she knew in her statement to the police. He was insistent though and Keira found that she lacked the will to argue. He escorted her to his car and his men thankfully kept the reporters well away from her. Keira sank into the back seat and had her eyes closed for most of the journey, ignoring as many of Joe's questions as she dared to.

Eventually the car stopped and Keira was helped out. She paid no attention to the front of the building, simply followed Mr Mitchell and his lackeys inside. They steered her into an interview room with a mirror along one wall that she supposed people were monitoring her through. Joe Mitchell took her through her police statement word by word and then kept hassling her for more info.

"I keep telling you, he never told me anything about himself. I saw the passports with his aliases by accident and I can't remember them all now anyway. He never spoke about himself."

"It's vitally important that we trace this fugitive." Mitchell insisted, his tepid smile now barely in place. "He must have given you some clues about where he was headed to next. There must have been something, if you stop and think."

Keira paused for a few moments, humouring him, then shrugged and shook her head.

"He went in the middle of the night so that I wouldn't know when he had left or in which direction. He said that if I knew it would put me at risk."

"But you told us he raped you immediately before he left. Why would he do that if he wanted you unconscious when he slipped away?"

"I don't think he planned it. He was... asleep to begin with... dreaming. I was too scared of him to try and make him snap out of it. it all happened so fast... I felt that the safest thing to do was to stay still and let him do what he wanted. He was calling me a 'traitorous bitch' and he had no reason to say that to me."

"Did he say a name? The name of this traitorous woman?"

"No."

"Did he mention any names at all while you were with him?"

"No. I've told you. No names, no places, no nothing."

"Is there anything else you can think to add Mrs Scott? No matter how irrelevant it may seem to you, it may prove very useful to us."

Keira pursed her lips and tried to decide how to put what she was going to say. Sensing that he was onto something, Joe leaned forwards eagerly, which put her off a little.

"He was just generally... strange. He was very controlled and precise in his actions but there was a randomness about him mentally. He just seemed... lost. I didn't get the impression that Ryan had much of a plan."

"Believe me Ma'am, we know this guy very well. Everything he does is for a reason. He is a highly trained man that calculates and extrapolates everything to the nth degree."

Keira shook her head.

"That wasn't what I saw. He fucked up at the airport. He took me out of panic. He made up all his moves as he went along, everything from my abduction to... to my rape and his departure. He did odd things too. I saw him pull a card out that had handwriting on. He then wrote on a piece of paper and compared it to the writing on the card. It sounds stupid to say it as I sit here with you but I swear he didn't recognise his own writing. There were times when he was vague and distant. He was a fugitive on the run with a hostage and yet there were moments when he was completely off in his own little world. It was weird."

Joe Mitchell stared at her blankly, as though she was speaking Swahili. It was clear that Keira's testimony made no sense to him. He rose and left the room.

Keira sat there for a short while, glaring occasionally at the mirror and wondering if she dared to pull faces at it. When Joe returned, another man entered carrying a large holdall. Keira looked curiously from him to Joe.

"What is this? Who is this guy? Can't I call my husband now please?"

Joe approached her chair, leaning against the desk in front of it and getting arrogantly into Keira's personal space.

"Well here's the thing Miss."

"Mrs!"

"Mrs Scott. My bosses, they need results. You spent a long time with Ryan and my bosses are convinced that there must be more information that you're not sharing for some reason or another. I have to tell you now Mrs Scott that any sense of loyalty or protection you might feel for 'Ryan' is very misguided. He is a highly intelligent man who is an expert at manipulating people. He can be very charming indeed when he wants or needs something."

Joe leaned right down close to Keira's ear, speaking low as he continued.

"In fact, my forensic people tell me that they found no evidence of force when they examined you, Mrs Scott. I think 'Ryan' did an exceptional job of manipulating you. Now as a married woman with a child, I can completely understand why you would be reluctant to admit to us just how easily 'Ryan' played you. This is the last time I am going to say this to you, Mrs Scott. I need you to be completely honest and forthcoming with me. I do not think that is what is happening now and I need you to know how serious I am. Smith over there is going to attempt to convey this to you."

Keira leapt to her feet, knocking her chair flying.

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

Joe merely raised an eyebrow.

"I did not have consensual sex with Ryan and I have not withheld anything from you. If he's as highly trained as you say he is he's hardly likely to have given me an autobiography! I chose not to fight him off, I admit that but it was out of fear. Nothing is more important to me than getting home to my daughter. If I hadn't had her to think of I might have risked death by kneeing him in the bollocks but I was terrified and failed to act! How dare you suggest that I fucked the man who took me hostage at gunpoint!"

Joe moved slightly away from her and Smith approached her. Keira backed away in the only direction she could go, towards the far corner of the room.

"I'm not saying another word about anything to anyone until I've spoken to my husband and been given some legal representation! I don't know the law in this country, what you can and can't do! I want a lawyer and someone from the British Embassy. This is an outrage!"

The two men suddenly advanced, closing in on her. Keira was dragged kicking and yelling back to her chair. Smith began securing her to it at the wrists and ankles with plastic cable ties.

"You're getting nothing until you talk Mrs Scott... and you will talk."

 

[The_PG]

Smith started, and then just fell forwards after he finished with the final tie along Keira's ankle.

Twenty-one minutes beforehand Ryan had decided to enter the building. He'd started by walking by a service entrance each time somebody looked like they were about to use it. It only took him twice to find the right repairman who used his key card to open the white washed metal door and pull it outward. He arrived precisely as he planned; just before the door fell shut behind the careless janitor. Of course he was careless because nothing he had access to would allow him to compromise the building, but the things he had access to allowed Ryan to compromise the building. That was the difference. Again Ryan didn't know why. He just knew it was a fact.

So instead of a click the repairman heard nothing, but the door shut softly so he paid it no mind. Ryan swiftly entered the building two seconds later, just as the repairman turned down a side hall and drifted out of site.

Ryan took the opposing hallway until he reached the lobby, but on the other side of the security desk. He glanced at the large board full of companies and their office listing, found WillCo and hopped on the elevator that would take him to the company several floors above theirs. The security on that elevator wouldn't be looking quite so carefully at everyone's face, even so he kept his head turned at the wrong angle to be seen too easily from the camera. Still, elevators were dangerous, but stairs were a dead giveaway if the people in this building had any decent training. Walking up that many flights wouldn't be fun either, and it would put him at a disadvantage. The tactical knowledge continued to amaze Ryan, even as he slid out of the elevator and quickly into the stairwell he wondered who had taught him and how he had learned so well that these things were ingrained into his very being, and not something he had to remember.

As soon as he was in the stair well he removed his pistol and tucked it into his sleeve. Holding onto the barrel of his gun so that the rest remained hidden. Two other clips were tucked into his belt underneath his jacket and he had his backpack slung tightly over his shoulder so that it would remain on his back when things started to get intense.

With each flight of stairs he passed a security camera and he was careful to keep his face concealed, but the last camera he tossed an extra tee shirt onto from his position above on the stairwell. The temporary blinding wouldn't be reported for at least a minute with this many camera's, and that minute was all he needed.

As he expected the office wasn't heavily secured. The door was open, and the secretary at the front had not nearly enough training to notice that Ryan wasn't simply lost, but rather right where he wished to be. A high kick to her temple rendered her unconscious and unable to hit the silent alarm for the office.

Thirty seconds.

With a glance Ryan chose the right hallway secured by a thick bullet-proof door. Conveniently opened by one of the secretaries push buttons, he scooted through and went down several unmarked doors. Walking like he belonged there confused the guard at the furthest door just long enough for Ryan to take two more running steps and knock the man to his knees choking with a flying kick to his throat. Ryan mostly caught him, only a muffled thud would reach the inner room, but apparently that was enough. Just as he had pulled the guard to the side the door opened from the inside, and a head carefully began to peak around the corner.

Ryan leaped sideways and seized the man's hands with the pistol. Luckily he was trained to keep his finger off the trigger. They tumbled to the ground, but a knee, two elbows, and a fist across the guards nose later and a second body rested against the opposing side of the door frame.

Then he stepped into the room. He watched, and listened as the two men interrogated Keira. Hoping something useful would come out of it, but by the time Smith started tying her up he realized they were simply fishing. Even if they meant to kill her later they did not want her to put any pieces together before giving them the pieces she knew. Pity, he thought for a split second before pushing an empty plastic coke bottle around the tip of his pistol, raising the gun, and shooting Smith through the back of the head once. The makeshift silencer worked about half as well as a real one; enough for the sound of the shot to be drowned out by the glass shattering into a thousand pieces. The other man tried to react, but Ryan barked at him curtly, "Stop."

Obviously he wasn't a field agent. A manager perhaps, low level, but with some information. Enough.

Ignoring Keira for now Ryan opened the door with his foot and crossed to the man rapidly. He had no times for games. Soon security would be responding for the whole building, so he kicked the man in his chair over onto his back. One of his arms was trapped behind him trying to stop the fall and was cut to shreds by the exploded glass. His screams got louder, and then went quiet when Ryan pressed down with his foot upon the man's chest, "Shut the fuck up." He snarled, as he dug his heel in and added more weight. Finally he did, "Tell me everything. You have approximately two seconds before I blow out your kneecap. One... Two..."

Calmly Ryan placed the soda bottle atop the man's kneecap, inserted the barrel of his pistol, and pulled the trigger even as he shouted, "Waiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeee!" The lurching body remained firmly planted under Ryan's increasing weight.

"Now you have three seconds before the other kneecap is gone. One... Two... Th-"

"Okay fine! I don't know much..."

"I know what you know, but tell it to me anyways. All of it."

"Okay okay... I had to get the girl... Clean her up, make sure you didn't say... Anything. The Omega project... It's- owwwwwfuck!"

"Shut up. Omega project? What is that?"

"What is it? What the fuck do you meaaaaaaaeeeeeee!"

"Answer my fucking questions and I won't have to dig my gun into your knee."

"You're the Omega project. You fucker!!! You, you're The Omega you dumbass. The project, you, you need to be retrieved. Then we need to process you... Cleaning, memory wipe, reset, don't you remember any of this... oh fuck... That bitch... She wasn't lying... Somebody... Someone... Oh fuuuuuuuuuuuuu-"

After he finished stepping on the man's chest again Ryan said coolly, "Somebody what?"

"Someone processed you."

"Processed me? How?"

"That I don't know, i swear, i seaaaaaaaaaaaeeeeeeeeeee!"

Ryan had placed another bullet in his knee cap. The man was a wreck now, sobbing and flinging spittle everywhere, but there wasn't anything else he said that was useful. He gave names, but no positions. Telephone numbers, but no address. Finally for the last time Ryan covered the barrel with plastic and shot the man once between the eyes, and then finally he turned to Keira. Seeing her for the first time. He walked over and knelt in front of her; holding her clear blue eyes with his own until she nervously glanced away, but then pulling her back with his voice.

"You are coming with me again until I can figure out some way to get you out of here, but you're doing it my way. I don't want you killed. Or repeating any of that. Do you understand me? I will leave you here if you desperately wish to, but you'll probably be better off with me shooting you just like I shot him."

Ryan knelt there waiting.

"I won't take those off until you decide, because if you decide to stay I don't want you coming after me and getting killed while I escape."

 

[fuckmeat]

Keira had been glaring at the man strapping her ankle to the chair when his face went wide eyed with shock and he fell sideways. She only registered the gunshot after that happened. Keira lifted her head to see Ryan bearing down on the remaining 'agent.'

"Stop!"

She was forced to sit there, hyperventilating with this latest shock as Ryan took out the guy's kneecaps and extracted information from him with brutal efficiency. Then he shot the man dead.

He had called Ryan 'The Omega Project' and he had spoken about Ryan as though he was a machine, referring to processing, erasing his memories and resetting him like a computer. This was all news to Ryan though, the implication appeared to be that Ryan was some kind of super-agent with a case of amnesia. It was ludicrous. Keira simply couldn't take it in, not with Ryan armed and throwing an ultimatum at her. She stared at him wide eyed, silently begging him to tell her what he knew.

"You are coming with me again until I can figure out some way to get you out of here, but you're doing it my way. I don't want you killed. Or repeating any of that. Do you understand me? I will leave you here if you desperately wish to, but you'll probably be better off with me shooting you just like I shot him."

"How am I supposed to know what to think?" She asked him helplessly. "I thought they were CIA until I got tied to the chair. I don't know who anybody is or what's going on. All I wanted was to go home but now I don't know where I am or who any of these people are."

Tears splashed down her face and Keira binked them away angrily, refusing to yield.

"They say you're a fugitive and then they try to torture me. You took me hostage at gunpoint, raped me, have just tortured and murdered a man under my nose and you expect me to trust you with my life? Nobody this side of the Atlantic appears to give a fuck about my life!"

She could see the tension in his face and posture, that they didn't have time for this. He hadn't left her yet though.

"So... you're what? A super-agent? A super-villain? A highly trained flash drive? A psycho mental patient who's watched too many movies? You might have memory loss but you should know what manner of man you are and what your objectives are."

She lowered her tone, realising the urgency but determined to wring something from him.

"Please, talk to me. I know too much already and you sure as hell need to talk to someone, probably a shrink."

 

[The_PG]

"So... you're what? A super-agent? A super-villain? A highly trained flash drive? A psycho mental patient who's watched too many movies? You might have memory loss but you should know what manner of man you are and what your objectives are."

There wasn't time for these questions, unless he had grossly miscalculated the efficiency of the security on this place. Or if, indeed, this company had no affiliation with government and really was a private organization. Two distinctly possible, however unlikely possibilities. Though if they had no government ties then how could they have staged the scene at the airport? Ryan recalled his memory sharply, a far cry from anything before the plane, snipers and silencers. It is possible. Airport security was not always government, so if the right money changed hands, into the right hands. They could have planned this from the start. Yet they had someone, or several someone's within the CIA. Authentic identification was very, very had to fake. Much easier to duplicate or steal authentic ones and make copies. Or buy blanks, and write the names in yourselves. Ryan didn't think of himself as a patient, computer, or agent. It was just him. He lived, he breathed. That was all he thought.

"Please, talk to me. I know too much already and you sure as hell need to talk to someone, probably a shrink."

"The last thing I remember is sitting on a plane surrounded by strangers who knew me, but acted like they did not Keira. But they knew me. How do I know? I just know, just like you know how to breathe and how to think. I do not remember how I learned anything, what my name is for Christ's sake, or how fucking old I am! I do remember that there are lots of men, men with guns downstairs who want to kill me, and probably kill you too. And I know that we'll be able to escape them together, or that I can escape them by myself. I also know you're never going to see your daughter or husband again if you stay here, and I'm not promising you'll see them if you come with me either but at least you'll have a chance."

With that Ryan was pretty sure he'd won. Her daughter was an easy weak point with Keira, and as much as he hated to admit it that was the only reason he mentioned it. He didn't not give a flying fuck if she ever saw her daughter again, but if it would help move her obstinate blabbing asshole then it was well worth mentioning in his book. He quickly undid the bonds that held her down, and darted towards the door. So far nothing, and neither of the two agents were anywhere near waking yet, so he left them alone and came back into the room.

"Well, have you decided?" He queried harshly as he checked the magazine in his pistol, and slammed it shut.

 

[fuckmeat]

Had she decided?

The men who had planned to torture and kill her were dead and Ryan was standing over her, checking his gun with the fluid precision that told Keira it was a reflex action. Most men's reflexes were limited to flatulence and scratching their balls. Ryan's reflex actions had got him into this building and ended the lives of her captors. He couldn't remember anything about himself but he could still pull shit like this off without breaking a sweat. On the other hand, though he had raped her he hadn't tried to kill her yet, which just about made him preferable to whoever was about to crash through the door and open fire. Plus, he knew that all she wanted to do was go home. He knew she wasn't really a part of all this. The same could not be assumed of the people who hunted him. Keira had just witnessed first hand how unlikely they were to take a statement, pat her on the head and fly her home.

"Fine. Let's go." She decided, swallowing hard and praying that she had made the right decision.

Keira stepped towards him, putting her trust in Ryan freely for the first time since they met.

Well... somewhat freely. Freely in the absence of any better option.

 

[The_PG]

As he suspected, and just in time too.

By the time Ryan and Keira reached the lobby of this floor there were unmistakable echoes of booted feet racing up the stairs. Boots meant military, or at least heavy security and powerful machine guns. The elevators were out, if they were even on. That left only one option. With Keira in tow Ryan ran down the hallway opposite from where she had just been about to be tortured. It seemed to end with a large supply room. Yet with a single heavy kick he was able to put his foot through the fake wall. He hadn't 'known' this time, but the building was simply too large for the floor they were on to only contain the offices they saw. He chuckled a bit, as he realized he would probably have to explain that to Keira later. She looked at him like he was crazy, but he simply pulled her into the next room. Of course it was simply a mirror of their side of the building, but it was an exact mirror. Containing a staircase of it's own. It was empty, 'For Rent.' Brochures littered the floor.

As they hurried down this flight of stairs Ryan continued to pause and look out the window every third flight or so, finally, just as they heard doors opening above and below where they were he saw what he was looking for. Without bothering to use the silencer, he emptied the rest of his clip in a perfectly spaced, even pattern through the window. The rest shattered after he slammed into it with the hilt of his gun.

"Fire escape, let's go!" He hissed to Keira as he slammed another loaded clip into his gun, and reached to push her up and out onto the walkway some ten floors above street level. Once he was on behind her, he motioned for her to walk straight around the building, rather then heading down immediately, "Don't look down." He added wryly.

By the time they reached the other side and were heading down the teams on the other side of the building were telling the teams on the ground that they were already gone. Five floors beneath them Ryan and Keira watched as several cars tore off down various avenues and streets. By the time they reached the ground, people were being searched as the building began to evacuate for a thorough sweeping. They were outside of the perimeter, and thus simply blended in with the already cleared crowd that was mingling, and heading for their cars.

Once in his, and heading away Ryan finally relaxed.

"You made the right choice Keira..." He said softly, his eyes flickering to hers momentarily.

"I didn't want you dead, and you're right. I need someone to talk to... Do you think... You can help me? I know, you're not a psychiatrist, but you deal with people all the time. Maybe... Maybe you can help?"