Forget Fox - (Closed for VelvetDarkness)

[The_PG]

Now Arnoldo Kelley, Sherman Park, Frank Bright, Myron Stephens, Paul Willard,
Ramiro Hays, Walton Chaney and Thomas Fox. Always The Omega. Once Stefan Winslow.

Normally it takes years to reprogram and individuals psyche. To desensitize it to murder and violence. To take years of correct moral standards and honesty and cast them aside in favor of speed, ruthlessness, and deception. The CIA project entitled, "Rosebush" did it in just six months. Using the most brutalized forms of torture, training, and psychological warfare to morph any recruit into the ultimate weapon. Inside the skull of the recruit there was only a computer, operating the complex human machine that was designed to function in society, but at a moments notice break all of it's rules and more. Of course, that was only with the green light from their handlers.

It took twenty-three brain dead and half failed recruits to get to #24. The Omega. That is what they called him. There were more after him, plenty more, but the program used the Greek Alphabet first, for it had only planned for twenty-four of it's weapons. After The Omega was successful for so many years, the government decided it needed another one. It's impossible to mention The Omega's success without going into detail, a bit. Twenty-five black operation missions that the world were never hear of were completed by this man. From assassinations, to kidnappings, to rescue missions deep in the heart of countries like Russia, China, and Iraq. His skill was unparalleled by any Agents before or after him. Many of his handlers debated why he was so good, and in the end they finally came to the conclusion that he was so good because of what had happened to him before entering Rosebush.

Five years of this success has netted The Omega nearly five million dollars in operational expenses and contacts all over the world. He is a resident of ten different countries, speaks Mandarin, Japanese, Farsi, Spanish, German, French, Italian, and Arabic. The man is a ghost, his picture has never been taken, and the only name he is known by within the black communities is The Omega. To the bad guys, to his enemies, he is known as Death. Those at the pentagon know him only as project #24, some advanced weapon that will always, always be in test phase. Five years and on his 26th mission.

======

Thomas Fox would have much rather been sliding through wet grass, crawling through mud, hiking over the desert, or riding through a blizzard on horseback then standing in this stuffy party. The huge Queen Victoria cruise liner was filled to the brim with some of the most stuffy, prestigious, and ultimately boring people in the world. Arnoldo Kelly, as he was named today, ate randomly from various trays as they passed by perched on the arms of suave waiters. His green eyes were fake, underneath the contact lenses were brown iris's that went with even more normal brown hair, even though now it appeared to be jet black. His deeply tanned skin was normally a healthy white, and he rarely ever gelled it like he had now.

Fox finally caught a glimpse of what he wanted to see. General Bogdanov Struzky departing upstairs. His aide stood shifting from foot to foot, nervous that someone would rush over to greet the old man as he tried to disappear. General Struzky had been paying the entire trip for a 'escort' to come after the party with him and 'escort' him to his room. Fox had timed everything perfectly, today she would be five minutes later, and that would be four minutes far too late.

He, as in Fox, slipped towards the nearest set of stairs and jogged lightly up the felt carpeting. He made his way parallel to the route the General would take and at the corner to the hallway to which the General's room adjoined Fox stopped. He waited until the door slammed shut and then walked hurriedly down the corridor towards the echoing door. These doors were simple; Fox froze the hinges with spray and kicked them with the thick sole of his boot. They shattered instantly. Then he inserted his knife into the frame and plucked the door out, it didn't make a sound as he set it down next to the frame. He stepped through and pulled the silenced Glock 19 from his shoulder holster. There were no markings on the gun, and he had been wearing white dinner gloves the entire evening.

He made a small crackle as he slipped a plastic bag to catch the casings when he fired and to reduce the spray of gunpowder from the barrel. The General would be in the bathroom readying himself.

"Vati!" A bouncing child of five years careened around the corner of the room and thudded into The Omega's right knee. The boy looked stunned. The Omega froze. #24 never froze. The child turned and began to scream, The Omega ran. #24 never ran.

It was over in seconds. A boat is not a very easy thing to escape from, but The Omega had made arrangements, but even then it was not supposed to be hurried; it was to be much more controlled. He slipped and fell two decks before thudding hard, the thud was heard by the pursuers and soon hot lead filled the air around him. With a last heave he was over the side and free falling into the water.

The only thing he remembers. The only thing. Is the feeling of a bullet parting his hair.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

Eighteen year old Zehra Aziz looked around the devastation that used to be her home dispassionately. The word 'Whore' had been daubed all over the place with spraypaint and everything that had not been stolen was smashed to pieces. She moved through the small house quickly, worried for her mother.

Baharat lay on her bed, naked but for a single fishnet stocking. The other one was wrapped around her neck and her face stared upwards blankly. Zehra momentarily recoiled but very quickly, her survival instinct kicked in to over-ride her shock and grief. Zehra moved quickly to crawl under the bed and lift a floorboard, where her mother kept valuables and cash. The box was still there and she ripped it open, stuffing the contents into her purse. Behind the headboard of the bed was a wickedly sharp hunting knife and she took that too. Zehra went to her own room, grabbed her passport and stuffed a bag with things before fleeing. She walked quickly towards her little car and then drove to the town centre with its busy fishing port. Zehra parked around the back of a bar and paid cash for a room under an invented name. She then sat down on the bed to evaluate the situation.

Zehra's mother had been married to her British father until he died five years ago. She had thought her father was a sailor but he was in fact part of a drug smuggling gang and was killed by a rival. Baharat, Zehra's mother, had failed to find a job in the recession that had a stranglehold on the country and she had found it more lucrative to entertain the sailors, fishermen and random drifters who passed through. Zehra had not been aware of her mother's trade until a couple of years ago and she had come to accept it and to ignore the taunts that followed her around school. Her mother wanted her to go to university, get an education and a life. Zehra had planned to study languages. Baharat had taken on customers that she should have declined because she wanted to save the money to put Zehra through college. Baharat had also started dealing in drugs, selling cocaine, marijuana and black market viagra to her clients. Clearly, she had got in too deep and pissed off the wrong person but Zehra wasn't about to hang around and find out who or why.

After dumping her bag in the room she had rented for the night, Zehra took her passport and her mother's bank card. She was a co-signatory on the account and so she closed it down and walked out of the bank with an envelope containing her mother's life savings. Zehra paced around her little room, cried a lot and made the decision to get out of this crappy town in one piece. She had nothing to say to the police. She knew the people who smuggled drugs around here and they didn't like loose ends. Tomorrow she would fill the tank and drive wherever the road took her, maybe the airport. Right now she was in shock and every time she saw her mother lying dead on that bed in her mind, her body would shudder, her legs would buckle and the tears would start all over again.

Unable to sleep that night, Zehra found herself walking around in an exhausted stupor as the sun rose on the first day of the rest of her life. A commotion by the docks caught her attention and she wandered over, curious. Bodies occasionally got washed up by the tide and there was always a crowd of bystanders.

 

[The_PG]

Thomas Fox

The Red Harvest, an ancient fishing by any definition was always the first to disembark on it's daily fishing journey. Today, for the first time ever, it would not be the first. The first mate, a young 'whippersnapper' as the captain called him, had spotted something floating close to the docks. The old captain, an old man by any definition, hurriedly told that ungrateful little run to dive in and fish the body out. They pulled the soaked, unconscious man out of the water and set him on the dock. The crowds started piling up right then, and Marko, a dentist who hadn't worked on anything but teeth since med school was working on reviving the man who had the faintest of heartbeats.

The captains booming voice ordered his men to fetch supplies for the doctor, three first aid kits were found, he also ordered for an ambulance to be sent and far on the other side of town one of the high whiny sirens started loudly. Istanbul was one of the largest cities in Turkey, and thankfully they had a fairly decent medical system and the man would be okay if the doctor could get him to breath again. After several minutes of compressions, however, things did not look hopeful and with nothing else to do the vet stopped, his gaze wandered to the three first aid gets. He acted quickly; pulling the epinephrine from it's package and poking the syringe deep into the man's thigh.

+++++

He gasped. He shot upwards and his body sang with alarm. Where was he? What happened? Why was everyone looking at him? These were some of the questions that went through his mind. He wanted to say something, to scream at them to tell him something, but he could not, something forced him to remain quiet and observe. His heart hammered in his chest as he waited, what had they given him? He read the label, 'Epinephrine.' It was written in Turkish. Why do I know Turkish?

Things suddenly began to go hazy again, and the whine of sirens filled his ears. He cringed and covered them. Finally they were cut off as the medical personnel rushed through the crowds, pushing and shoving their way to the front.

"Who are you?" One of them asked, in Turkish.

He opened his mouth to answer, and then closed it. He didn't know exactly what the man was saying, but he could guess pretty easily and he found... That he didn't know.

Someone, the doctor, asked in broken English, "You... Speak, da, English?"

"Yes." Finally, something that came from his own mouth. Warily he watched the two paramedics as they took his vitals and conferred with the captain of the ship. When one of them reached for his pocket, something happened that made... Him, react violently and nearly faint at the same time. His hand shot out, grabbed the offending wrist, and twisted it; a faint pop was heard and somehow he knew if he twisted it anymore it would completely break.

"Hey hey hey!" The doctor cried, holding his hands up in front of... His face. "Him medical, he okay, he want to know, he want see, who... who are you?"

He, he twitched and his eyes went blank. He couldn't remember, blackness consumed his vision and he slumped back onto the ground. The paramedics noticed he still had a pulse and was breathing fine. Finally they decided to take him, but they also snagged the dentist along with them. Getting the van away from the crowds was taking forever and the paramedics were professional, so they began removing the man's clothing and checking his body for personal belongings. He was dressed in fancy clothes, and the only thing he carried was a loose wad of soaked cash, a flashlight, and a receipt that was blank. The saltwater had washed away the ink. The bullet wound to the head was mostly clean, thanks to the saltwater as well and all the paramedics had to do was suture it up.

The dentist, sitting by the head of the man, with nothing better to do absentmindedly opened his mouth and looked at his teeth. The paramedics ragged him about it, but he noted with a smile that the man had perfect teeth and obviously came from well to do society. "What is this?" The dentist said, suddenly, to himself. One of the rear molars were loose, and with very little prodding it popped out. Only... It was hollow. The small compartment had something metal inside of it. The dentist held it up to the light and studied it curiously.

Suddenly the man's hand shot out again. The darkness. The jerking of the car. The men in uniforms and doctor sitting over him impressed a dire need to move on the man. He grabbed the metal bit from the doctor's hand and sat up sharply. His fist lashed out twice, too fast to see, breaking the skin of each paramedics cheek. The man grabbed his jacket that had been removed, not cut, kicked the rear door open and leaped out just as the ambulance found a whole in the traffic and shot forwards.

He stumbled to his feet and instantly took in the entire street. Twenty or thirty pedestrians. Lot's of cars. A familiar face, one of the ones in the crowd by the dock, a young girl who hadn't yet noticed the strange happenings in the middle of the street. She was walking down the corner towards a crowded, smaller street that branched off in several directions down the ways. It was good, good possibilities. After flipping his jacket on he hurried across the street and buttoned it all the way up as he walked. Sliding against her his hand grasped her slim wrist and twisted the palm of her hand back up towards her wrist. The whole thing was concealed by his jacket and hers, but if he wanted to he could make it hurt.

"Don't scream, I'm not going to hurt you. I need help." He spoke in rapid English and suddenly remembered that she might not even speak English, "Do you speak English?" He added as he glanced around; no one had noticed and no one was looking for him. He tasted blood, where his tooth had come out and his head was throbbing, but he was safe, for now. "I need someplace safe, where I can make a phone call." He saw her eyes dart to nearby doorway; a residential house. Without waiting for an answer he pushed the door open, pushed her inside, and closed it behind him. "This is your house?" The answer was yes. "Where is the-" Suddenly everything was black again, he fell to one knee and pulled her down with him; her wrist still in the painful lock. "The phone. I need the phone."

He didn't know why he needed the phone, he just did. Then everything went black again.

Istanbul Turkey

 

[VelvetDarkness]

Zehra had watched the commotion for a few minutes and seen the young man loaded into an ambulance. She turned away, figuring that it was a good time to return home briefly and grab a few things she had forgotten the day before. She moved towards the familiar sidestreets and was walking briskly when somebody sidled up behind her and grabbed her wrist, bending it back painfully.

She stared up into the faced of the guy who had been pulled from the water. He was soaking wet, injured and apparently dangerous. She gasped and tried to pull away but he wrenched her wrist in a quick movement that brought tears to her eyes but happened too fast for her to actually muster a scream.

"Don't scream, I'm not going to hurt you. I need help." Zehra shook her head, unwilling to get into any more trouble after her mother's death only the day before. The guy carried on speaking in English. "I need someplace safe, where I can make a phone call."

Before she knew what was happening, he had shoved her into the house but his strength seemed to be ebbing as he sank to the floor, gripping her wrist and dragging her with his weight. "The phone. I need the phone."

He passed out and she knelt there, staring at him. This was ridiculous, she couldn't stay here and he wasn't her problem. He was handsome though, she wondered what on Earth had happened to him. People didn't up and run away from paramedics when they were half drowned though and she wanted nothing to do with whatever trouble he was in. Zehra picked up a cushion and pressed it against the wound on his head, then she left him there and fetched the things she had come back for. Her mother was no longer in the bedroom and she was grateful. In this heat bodies got discovered rapidly and Zehra had left the door unlocked and ajar, hoping that somebody else would raise the alarm.

Within 5 minutes she was moving back through the house to the front door. If that guy was still passed out, she was leaving him there. The last thing she needed was this kind of shit. He lay between her and the door and she opened her purse, gripping the handle of the knife but keeping it concealed as she moved towards him.

 

[The_PG]

Somehow he knew the reason her hand was in that purse. There was a weapon, or a cell phone inside. He also knew from half-closed eyelids that when she stepped over him she would look to where she was stepping so she would trip. That half-second was all he needed to get to his feet, grasp her wrists, and drive her into the wall of the hallway. There was a dull thud and her eyes went cloudy, he shook her slightly in order to make sure she didn't faint. "Hey," He said, before shaking her again, "Hey, listen to me..." Only once she was looking cognitively at him did he speak again. "Calm down. I'm not going to hurt, I need to get to the phone." Why did he need a phone, what was he going to do, who was he going to call?

"Oh God..." He swallowed thickly and his grasp went a bit limp. His eyes filled with fear, and with panic for seconds before being swallowed by a hardened edge that came... From nowhere. "Listen... Listen to me. I... I don't know anything. I don't know my name. I don't know where I am... My name, damnit... I don't, don't know. Ah-" Suddenly there was a thrum in his head and he loosened one of her hands to grasp his head, "I need money. I need help. I need to know, who I am. All... Al I have..." Things were slowing down again, faster this time, it was obvious he needed some form of care or else the next time he would not wake up, "Is this. This thing." He held up the metal object curiously, his grip tightened and suddenly a green light began flashing. Curiously he looked at the light, then pointed it at the wall. Numbers began flashing. "Help me... Please." Then once again darkness consumed him and he fell against the floor with a thud.

The metal pin rolled on the floor a bit, then stopped flashing.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

Zehra picked up the little pin, eyeing it curiously before putting it in her purse. She looked down at her unconscious captor and sighed. There was no way she could lift him and however much he demanded a phone, stopping him from bleeding was clearly much more important.

He had scared her, nearly knocked her out and he had moved so fast given that he was wounded and barely coherent. His eyes had bored into hers though as he held her against that wall and Zehra had understood as she mentally translated his slurred English that he was not angry or menacing, he was wildly terrified, like an animal with no comprehension of the reason for its suffering. It had made her heart go out to him.

"I don't know anything. I don't know my name. I don't know where I am... I need help."

Zehra paced the floor indecisively. She was leaving today, this guy could not be allowed to alter that plan. She was frightened of driving out of here alone though and it occurred to her that she could do worse than to take this guy with her. It was clear that he could handle himself, when he hadn't just been shot and drowned. He looked affluent, clean shaven and well dressed, perhaps he would even pay her something if she helped him.

Zehra replaced the cushion against his head and slipped outside the house. She walked to the nearest pharmacy and got some things to bandage his head with, then she grabbed a well built teenager who was ambling along and offered him a few Lira to help move her 'cousin' who had been mugged. Her British blood showed enough in her colouring for it to be plausible. She left the lad to tape his wound closed and wind a clean bandage around his head while she fetched her car. On her return, the guy still showed no sign of waking and Zehra wondered if she should leave him there. The lad helped her get him into the passenger seat so she could 'drive him to the hospital' and then she buckled him in, fired up her battered little Yugo and headed in the general direction of the hospital, still wondering if she shouldn't just dump this guy there.

[P.S. I changed the pic. I decided that other girl looked too scary. ]

 

[The_PG]

(She was pretty freaky! I like the new one. How do you like mine? Recognize the actor?)

This time he did not wake so suddenly. He drifted in and out of darkness slowly. The gentle swaying motion of the car kept waking him, but every time he tried to think he would simply black out again. Finally he managed to stay awake long enough to speak, "Where.... Where am I?" He had absolutely no answers, and the only thing that had got him this far was a deeply seated desire to move, to run, to flee, to hide. Now that he felt safe there was absolutely no direction for him, he had to figure things out now, but every time he tried to do that he would pass out. Even thinking about his name or what he was doing brought blackness to the edge of his vision. "Where are you going?" He managed to mumble next, he knew he needed to fill the void of information that he did not have, and right now the only way to do that was by asking the girl next to him. He could tell she was fighting with whether or not to dump him at a corner, kill him, or bring him along. Thankfully she had enough morality to keep driving, with him in the car.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

As he woke and started asking questions Zehra realised what a risk she was taking by dragging a semi conscious foreigner around. She drove steadily towards the hospital, resolved on handing him over to the casualty department and then gunning her car to Lulbergaz, where she could stop and spend the night.

"You are in Istanbul, Turkey. I am taking you to the hospital. Your head is pretty bad, looks like you have been shot. You were pulled from the water at Istanbul docks but you ran from the paramedics. I think you are in some trouble and I don't need trouble. I will take you to the hospital and they can help you there. You can also use a phone there. It's just another 10 minutes away."

She glanced to the side and saw that her rapid, accented English had not really been assimilated by the stranger. She repeated everything slowly, accelerating slightly towards the hospital in case he got distressed and unpredictable.

[I can't place the actor, am I being incredibly dense?]

 

[The_PG]

(No, not too many people know him, it's Sean Patrick Flanery from Boondock Saints )

The first thing's she said didn't really come in focus for him. He just looked at her with a very spaced out feeling until she repeated herself slowly; like he was a child. It was aggravating, but obviously it was also necessary and he was grateful that she would take the time to explain everything to him. It didn't really make any sense, except for the fact that he washed up at the docks in Istanbul, so he would be in Istanbul now, and he knew he had run away from the paramedics, but he didn't know why. Trouble? No, he didn't feel in trouble, but maybe he was, shot!? Being shot definitely meant that he was in trouble, or going to be in trouble, getting shot meant that someone wanted to kill him. For half a second he gazed at the girl critically, but almost before he was done thinking that she wanted to kill him, he dismissed it. She had plenty of chances to do it and had not.

His mind raced, but he completely ignored trying to remember anything. He knew that was what was causing the blackouts. Instead he looked forwards. If he was being chased, he couldn't go to a big metropolitan hospital. He would be in the system, the phrase, 'On the grid,' Came to mind for some reason. He wanted to stay, 'Off the grid.' He gazed at the girl, and quickly decided she didn't want to be any part of his trouble, but at the moment she was the only asset he had asides from whatever physical attributes he had, and these he wasn't entirely sure about either. "Hey," He said suddenly, softly, "Thanks for the help, I'm sure whoever did this things I'm dead..." She gave him a look, a look that said, 'But what?'

"If you drop me off at the hospital they'll find out who I am, before I can, and whoever did this will come back. Can you take me with you, I know you are leaving Istanbul. I need to get to Switzerland. That metal piece I gave you has the number for a Swiss bank account engraved in it. I'll pay you, for the gas, everything, plus ten-thousand dollars." His eyes went to hears quickly, and he winced when he saw the fear in them. He felt tense, like he was going to explode. He knew at once that she had seen that and knew that if she didn't except then he was going to gently, but firmly either force her to drive him or rob her and go on by himself. Like it or not, she was stuck with him.

Something struck him though, how did he know there was that much money, and how did he know it was an account? Things were coming back, but so was the darkness. He glanced hurriedly over at the girl, hoping she'd decide before he tried to dig anything else up and end up going unconscious again.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

Zehra thought for a moment. Switzerland was a very long way to take him, she had never even left Turkey before. There was something appealing about leaving the country but she had no great need to travel half so far herself. She thought about the money. First he said he remembered nothing, then he promised her ten thousand dollars. Either he was being less than honest about his amnesia or he thought she was stupid enough to travel all that way on a promise. She was not about to admit to the cash she had brought with her.

"I don't know. Can you give me any money up front? Maybe I can just take you into Greece, then you can go your own way." She glanced at the guy, already blood was seeping through his bandage.

"Look, you need... " She didn't know the word for stitches. "Sewing, in your head, understand? You are still bleeding and you will keep... falling asleep."

Zehra was still heading for the hospital. Even if she agreed to his crazy scheme, he was going to need something done about that head wound. He was conspicuous enough as a tall American but the bloody dressing drew the eye and it was clear that somebody wanted him killed.

 

[The_PG]

"I know, but not here..." He thought for just a second, "Some place smaller, a village, out of town. I'm not dead, so it probably won't kill me until we get there." He ignored her comment about the money, for he obviously didn't have any on him and he obviously didn't even know what the bank account had in it. However, a sudden impulse forced him to sling his jacket off and check the tag. It read Armani. Good quality, high quality, the account had money in it, lots of money. He glanced from the tag to the girl and then put the coat back on, "What is your name?" He asked softly, careful to keep his thoughts away from remembering, for he knew that would only hurt him more.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

"My name is Zehra Aziz." Her natural impulse was to ask him his name but he had already said that he didn't know. She thought for a moment before swinging the car onto a smaller road. "There is a village, maybe 5 miles away. They have a small place." She hoped that this would calm him down but she really wasn't happy about delaying my long drive north.

After a few moment's deliberation she spoke again.

"What shall I call you? It will look odd if I do not have a name for you."

She had noticed the tag on the jacket as he inspected it and she felt a little more sanguine about his offer of payment. That didn't mean she was prepared to go to Switzerland however.

 

[The_PG]

His eyes darted around, not knowing what answer to give, but in the end he could not think of anything suitable. "Call me what you'd like. Ahrez. Your name backwards." He gave a small smile and then tensed as he saw the green medical sign sticking out from the home in front of them. He slipped from the car, gave Zehra a troubled look. "I need some cash, enough to make sure this doctor does his job properly. You'll get what I borrowed back. I promise." He knew his promises were empty to her, but something ingrained in to him told him that this was the proper thing to say.

In the end she handed him some cash, equivalent to five hundred dollars, somehow he knew this. "I'll be out in an hour. Then we'll need to get to a pharmacy, for medicine. Can you look around for one? I'll be standing..." He looked down the street and pointed to a partially concealed garden, "Down there. Beep three times." This required both of them to trust each, but already he was getting a sense of Zehra and it was a good sense, somehow he knew that something about him tugged at her heart.

He went into the doctors office and used a bribe to bump his name to the top of the list. He told them he had no papers, and could not leave his name, that required another bribe and this one was rather significant, but the old doctor was not above it. The older man quickly checked his womb, and told him the bullet had grazed part of his brain, hence the headaches and memory loss. The doctor sutured it up and gave him antibiotics to make sure it did not get infected. "Ahrez" also asked for a suture kit and some morphine syringes. That required more money, and he returned with about a fifth of the money and fifteen minutes to spare. He took this time to pick up a spare change of clothing, a duffel bag, a hunting knife, and a few other odds and ends.

He waited in the park, and decided he would give her fifteen minutes past the time she was due, if she didn't show up then he would go hotwire a car. He knew how to do that, or at least he was pretty sure he knew how to do it.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

Zehra had assumed that he did not speak Turkish. 'Ahrez' had asked her if she spoke English when he first accosted her and has spoken in English since then. She was surprised when he went off alone to see the doctor but did not question him. Something in his tone had not brooked further discussion. When she returned for him, he was standing there with a fresh dressing over what she assumed were sutures and a bag of medical supplies in his hand. His injury would have been obvious, not requiring explanation but the doctor here was not known for his charity work and she was surprised that he had got himself fixed up already. She pulled up and he got in.

"You look better. There is a pharmacy about 5 minutes away." She bit her lip as she drove and finally mustered the courage to question him further.

"Look... you saw my house, yes? I have troubles too, big troubles. I need to leave and so I will drive you but... my money is only little amount and it is everything I have. You have no papers, no cards... and you say no memory. How can I know you will pay me? How can you know this? There are many things I do not understand and I think... if we will travel together... you should tell me the things you do know. You have no security... so I need trust you... I need know you. Please?"

She glanced at his face and saw his brow crease and his eyes widen momentarily with anxiety. If he was lying about the memory loss then he was a very good actor.

 

[The_PG]

Several things were clear to 'Ahrez' but there wasn't one of them that told him how to explain that he knew everything. He tried several times to put it together in his mind and speak the words aloud, but each time he ended by simply closing his mouth. They arrived at the pharmacy and he went saying, "Circle the block, I'll be out." He gave her a friendly smile, he knew he had to because he wanted to tell her but he simply could not figure out how to do it right now.

In the pharmacy he bought more painkillers with a prescription he had paid for at the doctors. He also bought some food and drink, and when he saw a cheap pocket knife he bought that to. Then he saw a computer and sat down, he checked a few websites and then went to make a phone call. Outside he waited for a brief few seconds before Zehra pulled up and he stepped in. Immediately it was obvious he had figured something out, because he gave her another reassuring smile and began speaking.

"I don't know how this happened to me, I don't know what my name is, but certain things are telling me who I am. I always feel this sense of urgency, but never panic, always I am checking my surroundings for, something, but it's not paranoia, it just feels normal." 'Ahrez' looked over to his driver and again smile, surely there had to be something reassuring she could find in that, but he still hadn't explained the money, "What you have in your purse, is obviously a bank number. In the pharmacy there was a computer, I checked and found the bank number. On their website they said they used voice identification to send you straight to your account without any human interaction. I called the bank. There is money there, in the amount of ten million dollars."

He knew her eyes would go wide, so he didn't say anything else about. "As for papers and the like, I am sure you have plenty of money to bribe even the most righteous guard, and whoever I am, I know how to read people, like you, so we'll pick the easiest guards. I will reimburse you in full once we reach the bank. I just hope this old car will make it." The slightest bit of humor sometimes went the longest way with new people. These little bits of advice went a long way sometimes. He glanced over, hoping she would take him at face value, because if she didn't he would have to go out and prove it to her, which would just eat up more time and for some reason 'Ahrez' thought he had very little time to eat.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

She nodded, sceptical that a bank would give such information to anyone who could do in impersonation of somebody else. Zehra opted to give him the benefit of the doubt, for now.

"So when we stop, you can call them again and I can hear what you heard, yes?"

The gadget was still in her purse so the numbers must also be in his head. Curious for a man who claimed not to have a clue who he was.

"If you have ten million dollars, I think you can offer me more than $10,000. You must be in a lot of trouble. But if we go to Switzerland and you are arrested or something, I will be left in a foreign country with no money... you really don't know why you were shot or why you are worth $10 million?"

This was all sounding less credible by the minute.

"I'm really not sure about this... it's a big gamble for me. I will drive to Lulbergaz, we can stay there tonight and we can talk, ok?"

Something was jarring with Zehra. Her companion appeared to be sincere but it was too... well played. There was something calculated about him, something more than ordinarily shrewd and she did not know how far she could trust him, if at all. Common sense told her that if he was purely seeking a means to get to Switzerland, he could have killed her and taken her car and money by now. There were definitely a lot of things that didn't add up. He better have put together a good story by the time they reached Lulbergaz.

She realised with a pang that he would probably do exactly that, she had just given him a 4 hour drive (more than that in her battered little Yugo) to cook up something convincing. Zehra bit her lip and gunned the car, determined now to lose him in Lulbergaz and revert back to her original plan. Whatever he may or may not be, he was most definitely not her problem. He appeared resourceful enough, he would manage just fine on his own.

 

[The_PG]

'Ahrez' fell into a very deep sleep the moment they hit the open highway. His snoring was quiet enough not to be annoying, steady enough to not be faked, and loud enough to just be heard over the steady purr of the engine. On the road it was easy to relax, especially on the open roads that stretched towards Lüleburgaz. They only stopped once, and he woke up immediately. This was becoming normal to him; when he awoke he instantly found himself mapping the entire area of his vision while swiveling his head from side to side. Numbers came unbidden to his head, twenty-two cars, thirty-one people, four children, fifteen men, sixteen women, no business suits, two pairs of sunglasses, one beard. He would then look at the bearded man, and couple who wore sunglasses intently for split second before deciding no, they were not dangerous. The nearest cars would suddenly have license plates, colors, makes a models, especially the ones behind them or with passengers still in them. In that instant he was aware of so much more, it was almost overbearing. "Ahhhh!" He curled forwards, his head hurt. "Sorry," He had startled Zehra, "Sorry, my head... Where did the medicine go?"

He took four pills and swallowed them without water. "Do I have time to run to bathroom?" Zehra nodded and he hurried inside, and was out within a few minutes. Again his mind took note of the whole parking lot, noting all the changes in a matter of milliseconds before slipping back into the car. They finished filling up, Zehra ran inside for a potty trip, and then they were off again. Arriving in Lüleburgaz shortly after Ten PM, they found a cheap motel and paid for one room with two beds, before anything 'Ahrez' made sure he called the bank, whose telephone number was easy to remember from this morning, and though he never said anything to Zehra he was positive the only time he had ever seen the flashing number from the bank was on the wall in her apartment. He couldn't remember a single other time seeing it, though he hoped there were others. The mechanical voice asked them to press one for an account balance, and they did so, at that point 'Ahrez' had hung up last time. This time Zehra listened on and hit two for an account summary, but that put her through to another password field and she thrust the phone to 'Ahrez.' Taking it uncomfortably he listened and then finally spoke, "This is a security verification test... to note the different tonal signatures of the account holder... there is a ten second pause for confirmation... at the termination of this message."

The ten seconds passed rapidly and in spell binding nature. Suddenly another lighter voice came over the line to proclaim loudly and mechanical, "Account number 95689192287, Mr. Thomas Fox, safe box 0203, account status, active." Then there was a click and menu options repeated themselves. 'Ahrez' swallowed thickly and with a face furrowed in concentration he said softly, "My name is Thomas Fox. Thomas. Fox." He gently hung up the phone, "There is a safety deposit box at the bank with the account, box 0203, we need to see what's inside of it. It could have a passport, or an identification card, or a piece of mail with an address on it. It could show me everything..." His mind was racing now, trying to figure out how they could go without stopping, drive all the way to Switzerland. The pain lanced back into his forehead and he quickly sat on the bed, holding his head and muttering, "Thomas Fox..." To himself, he glanced over at Zehra as the pain lessened, "Now I can introduce myself," He added a wry smile and lay back on the bed with a sigh.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

Thomas Fox... that was better. Zehra had been loathe to inform him that 'Ahrez' was in fact the brand name for a local manufacturer of the artificial Turkish Delight that tourists took home by the trunkload. He kept repeating the name and she could see that he was still uncertain about it. There had been no flash of recognition when he spoke it and as he lay on the bed she could see nothing in his features that suggested he had an attachment to the moniker. Someone like this guy, with all that money and a gunshot wound, it could not be certain that Thomas Fox was his name, only that it was the one he had been answering to recently. Probably the safety deposit box would clear that up but it was a very long way away.

Zehra showered and dressed in a baggy T shirt and some panties. The shower was a good place to contemplate her day away from Thomas' intense gaze. She returned to the bedroom and burrowed under the covers. The days were hot but the nights here were often very cold.

"Well Thomas... If we go to the border, I'm gonna need some papers for you." She was not convinced that he would bribe someone successfully. Many people tried and the border guards were paid well enough to prevent exactly that. "We can't arrive there with nothing. They will arrest you... or worse."

Worse usually amounted to a sound kicking and the 'confiscation' of any valuables. The border guards could rarely be bothered with the paperwork and hassle involved with detaining people. Young women though, they could expect very different treatment if they met with the wrong guard and Zehra was unsure about connecting herself with a man who had no papers and no clue who he was. Then there was her money. If Thomas pissed these guys off, she would almost certainly be left broke. This was looking like a worse idea by the minute.

She turned to explain her fears to Thomas but he looked like he had passed out again. Zehra thought for a moment and then slipped from the bed. She pulled on her jeans and shoes and picked up her bag as she moved almost silently to the door. This guy was nothing but trouble and she was a fool if she thought he was going to pay her in Europe. She inched carefully around his bed and headed for the door.

 

[The_PG]

It was something in her voice. Thomas could hear it in her voice. He knew she was going to leave, she didn't trust him, she really couldn't trust him, and in a way he didn't blame her. However, even if he didn't blame her he couldn't just let her go, it was much safer with her, he wouldn't have to steal for real, that would bring him into contact with the police, which he didn't want to do. He had fallen asleep thinking about the different ways he could let her go, he really wanted to let her go, but everything changed when he heard the latch on the door echo loudly in the room.

Someone touched lightning to the base of his spine. That would be how Fox explained it to her later on; someone electrocuted him. He was up in less then a second, and a second later he had crossed the room. Then in one move he placed a hand over Zehra's mouth, and with the other he softly shut the door and locked it. Pulling her he stifled her cry and pulled her against him back onto the bed. Now that he had both hands he easily subdued her with the sleeper hold. She fainted rapidly and he was left alone to deal with her.

When things needed to happen he just did them, he couldn't think. Like now, he didn't know why but he walked to the bathroom and took a wash cloth and a towel, the wash cloth he cut in half and rolled one half into a ball and stuck it in her mouth. Then he cut the towel into strips longways and bound her ankles together and her hands out in front. Then he took out his belt and tied it to the towel linking her wrists and tied the other end to his wrist. He pulled the cover over both of them fully dressed and quickly fell asleep again, knowing he would need it if she didn't stay quiet. He really hated doing this to her, but he saw no other way.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

Zehra gradually came around and for a moment she felt like she was paralysed. Nothing would move. It became clear that she was bound and also that she was in bed with an apparently asleep Thomas. She could not remember exactly what had happened. As she wriggled around and determined that she was uninjured, she also discovered that she was fully clothed. It was an intense relief. Her mother's trade had more than put her off men and the propositions she had received at school and at home because of what her mother did had made her highly mistrustful of men. Only the Muslims were strict about virginity these days but promiscuity in young women was generally frowned upon and Zehra had found it no hardship to focus on her studies and abstain.

It seemed she was still a virgin. If he had done anything to her she was sure she would be sore and the fact she was dressed reassured her further.

Zehra looked over and studied his profile. Even unconscious Thomas did not look relaxed. He lay flat on his back with his hands at his sides, a very unnatural position for sleeping. His breathing was slow and even but he had seemed deeply asleep before and yet had moved with such swiftness and suddenness that Zehra could not remember what had followed. Once moment she had been watching him as she clicked the door open, the next he had simply been there, grabbing her and pulling her to the bed. She had never seen anyone move that fast when fully awake, never mind injured and apparently asleep.

Exhaustion seemed to have got the better of him for now though, as her tentative wriggling hadn't awoken him. As she was uninjured and unviolated, Zehra decided that he was trustworthy at least until the morning. Waking him might anger him and there was really nowhere to go at this time of night for a young woman with her entire life in her car. She curled on her side against his warmth and tried to sleep. There would be plenty of time to figure things out tomorrow.

 

[The_PG]

Thomas woke just as the sun peeked into the window of the hotel room. Again, he started awake. The door was locked, Zehra was still tied securely, and she was asleep. The dust on the window sill was still in place and unchanged, the rug had not been shifted in the night, and the alarm clock was still working. His knife was still on his belt. Thinking about things quickly Thomas realized, he was still Thomas Fox and he hadn't forgotten everything from the day before. It was a relief to find that he hadn't forgotten everything, again. He moved gingerly in the bed to test all of his extremities and found the only discomfort to be in his pants. His crotch was resting snugly against Zehra's ass, which was quite beautiful, and he had ballooned to a very erect, and very hard state of being inside of his pants. He frowned and rolled off the bed, letting go of the belt that he had been holding all night.

He picked up the belt and tied it to the headboard, then hurried into the bathroom to take a quick shower and change. When he was finished he came out and let Zehra out of her bonds, cutting the towel up into little bits and removing the washcloth from her mouth. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly and watched as she rubbed circulation back into her extremities, "Look," He said in a firmer voice then he realized he was using, "I've got to get to Switzerland, and right now you're the only one that can help me get there, but I'm done asking nicely. I've figured one or two more things out, one, is that I'm obviously part of some government or military group. Nothing but strategies come to my head all day, and nothing but numbers and risk factors plague me the rest of the time."

He paused suddenly as pain crept into his facial features, he popped open the bottle of pain medicines and doused four of the capsules, "I knew exactly how to put you asleep last night without hurting you, I know hundreds of ways to use this knife," He pulled the pocket knife from his pocket and showed it to her before returning it to its place, "And everything I touch, I know how to use it as a weapon. I'm dangerous, and I'm not asking you anymore. You are going to help me, because if you don't I'll make you help me. Either way I'm still going to Switzerland, and you are still going to get paid. The only difference is if I need to tie you up every night or not." For some reason the feeling in his pants returned when he mentioned the tying up, but he pushed it away as he waited for her answer.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

She stared at him, wide eyed. Bound as she had been, Zehra had only managed to sleep lightly and she still felt exhausted. Listening to Thomas describe himself as a weapon was very frightening. She could see that he was trying to be reasonable but also that his veneer of civility was wearing very thin. Zehra knew without question that he was telling the absolute truth, both about what he was and what he was prepared to do to get to Switzerland.

Her common sense came up fighting, telling her that it was madness to spend any more time in the company of this man. He needed to get to Europe, sure but he did not need her in order to do it. The word 'hostage' flashed into her mind but she dismissed the thought. He did not need a hostage, he needed money and her car. Well fine then. She had plenty of money and there was more than one car in Lulebergaz.

"Ok." She said finally, pinching the bridge of her nose against a mounting headache. "So you can take some of my money and you can have the car. It's not worth much anyway. You do not need me to come with you Thomas and I do not want to go with you." She raised her chin, head and shoulders shorter than Thomas but resolute nonetheless.

 

[The_PG]

Right away Thomas knew the answer to that question was no. He didn't even have to think about what he was going to say before saying it, he even began to gather all of his stuff in his duffel bag and all began tossing all of Zehra's particulars onto the bed next to her. "No, I don't have a license, I don't speak the language, and the car is registered to you. You are coming with me to Switzerland, and I guess I will have to to tie you up." He paused to quickly check everything in the room, "Now. We're going now. Get up." There was a chill in voice that was completely new and something he had never experienced before, it was a rush of power and command that forced her into submission.

It took a few moments for Zehra to obey, but in the end she did and they went out together to the car. Thomas slipped into the passenger seat and buckled up, he carefully watched the roads around them for several minutes, before pulling a map out of the glove box and studying it intently. "It'll take about two days to get to Zurich, we'll have to pass through about six borders. We'll try paying at the first one, if it doesn't work so well we'll find away around." He didn't want to explain what he would do if they couldn't find away around, she probably wouldn't approve of the other options that came to his mind after that last one.

The first border was between them and Bulgaria. Thankfully it was badly patrolled and they did not even have to bribe any of the guards, crossing the country took a few hours before they were at the Serbian border. Here they ran into no difficulty and succeeded in bribing the guard with roughly a hundred dollars, it was the same case at the Croatian and Slovenian borders as well. However, upon arriving at the Italian border it was fairly obvious there would be no way around. So close, yet so far. By then they had traveled roughly fifteen hours and were tired anyways, so Thomas opted to find a hostel and sleep before trying again the next day. Once in the room the tension rose incredibly, so Thomas tried to counter it by not even mentioning tying her up or telling her not to sneak out. He really didn't think she would this far from home, but just in case she did he waited until she was in the shower before stripping the wire of a table lamp and attaching the live end to the metal frame of the door. If she touched it anywhere she'd receive a shock, as would anyone from the outside, then Thomas fell asleep on the bed, forgetting it was the only one in the room.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

Zehra had been scared by Thomas today. He had chilled her somewhere deep inside when he had simply ordered her to accompany him. The light had gone out of his eyes and she had known that, at that moment, he was capable of pretty much anything. She had seen him tense, seen his fingers curl as his spine stiffened and his face became cold and hard. His movements had been calculated to the point where they almost looked premeditated. There was a certainty to everything he did that puzzled her. If he had been agitated and angry or desperate and scared she could have still felt a connection between them. As it was he just stripped down to the bare essentials, as though he was nothing more or less than whatever it required to get her out the door and en route to Switzerland. It was ruthless, heartless and utterly terrifying for a young female teenager who was now effectively an abductee.

She glanced over at him every now and again, driving in sullen silence as his gaze swept from side to side like human CCTV. She was beginning to realise how highly trained this man must be. He could be anything; a spy, an assassin, a top level crook or gangster. Zehra reined in her imagination. She wondered how old he was and whether he had any idea what his age might be. She was in no mood to talk with him however so she just drove along the route he navigated for her. He bought maps at gas stations but he rarely studied them and Zehra had the suspicion they were simply props. Who on Earth could navigate through Europe without studying maps?

This guy, apparently.

That night, she was too tired and wary of him to concoct any elaborate plans for escape. She had driven for 14 straight hours and Thomas had even scowled when she required more rest room breaks than he did. If nothing else, it would get them to Switzerland and hopefully her payment and freedom all the sooner. She did not speak the language here and she felt she could trust that he would not harm her if she helped him as she was doing. It was strange. He seemed like a nice enough person most of the time but it was clear he was capable of violence and ruthlessness that she couldn't even imagine in her mind. She did not want to think of him as violent and evil, as an amoral one man crime wave or Mafia man. He was a total paradox.

When she emerged from the shower, he was already asleep. Thomas lay on his back once more, his usually determined features in repose. He did not look peaceful in the way that sleepers do... he looked like a guy in standby mode and she knew first hand how rapidly he could awaken.

Because he was tall, he lay at a slight diagonal, taking up more than half of the bed. She lifted the covers and saw with a slight gasp of surprise that he had stripped to his shorts this time. His body was a work of art. Taught muscles sat beneath smooth, lightly fuzzed, golden brown skin. He was clearly at the peak of physical fitness, a lean wall of muscle with not one ounce of excess weight. Despite that, he was not skinny or unattractive, he was simply... perfect.

Not quite perfect. There were a few small scars but they were all neat and fully healed. A few bruises marred his flawless skin, probably from whatever events had occurred when he was shot. His hand moved, searching for the source of the sudden draught and Zehra got into the bed with him and lowered the covers. She curled up resignedly in the remaining space. Her limbs were cramped from driving and it would have been nice to stretch out but later in the night maybe...

Even as the thought this... she knew he would not move.

 

[The_PG]

The first time Thomas woke in the middle of the night was due to a nightmare. Images had begun floating through his vision in hazy waves, never more then blotches of colors floating lazily like flags in a limp breeze, but ever so slowly there was a sense of movement dawning on him; like he was walking down a very long, and very narrow hallway. It kept on going, and going, and going. Slowly the blurry images faded and the hallway came into view a bit more sharply then those images. Then sound came to his hears; dull thuds of rich leather soles beating against hard metal decks. Then everything stopped and there was a soft sliding sound as he turned to face a doorway; the metal hatch, it was clearly a hatch, came off by the hinges slowly, noiselessly. There was only darkness through the doorway and the moment the hatch was completely removed the darkness consumed him. It gave him the most frightful and gut-wrenching feeling; as if he'd been tricked fatally and he was in morbid fear for his life. It was the second time the dream had repeated itself, when he turned, the noise of his feet moving was softer, but louder.

Thomas started awake and his eyes quickly located the sound; it came from the quarter inch under the door, someone was walking in the hallway. With stealth enough that he didn't wake an exhausted Zehra he crossed to the door and put his ear to the wall next to it (so he wasn't electrocuted) and placed his hand on the plug ready to discharge the door once whoever it was had been zapped. The footsteps moved on normally and nothing happened. Thomas stood still, feeling stupid, but his heart was racing and there was so much adrenaline in his veins he completely ignored the pounding headache that was tearing his mind apart. Those dreams had obviously caused the headache, but his paranoia was also obviously just paranoia, and there was nothing special about it. Sighing slowly, Thomas went to the bathroom and took four more of the pain medication before walking silently back towards the bed. In his absence Zehra had stretched out in her sleep and was resting comfortably.

For a moment he hesitated; thinking it was wrong for him to climb back in bed, but then he realized she had climbed in with him and since he didn't mean her any wrong it wouldn't be inappropriate. This time he slipped onto his side of the bed and left her plenty of room, and though he tried to sleep on his shoulders he found it nearly impossible and fell into a trance like sleep only once he had laid on his back for several long minutes staring at the ceiling.

The second time Thomas woke up in the middle of the night was a much more pleasant experience. His eyes snapped open when his body felt the presence of hot skin against his stomach, he didn't jolt awake because he knew it wasn't life threatening, but the sensation did wake him all the same. Zehra had moved slightly and now her hand rested against his hard chest and her little finger was extended fully down onto his abdomen. He debated removing it or not and decided it was completely harmless and soon fell back into his trance, with pleasant thoughts and completely missed hard-on filling his briefs. Obviously his body could not remember the last time it was aroused, so he was aroused easily, but it could very much remember the light touch of a female against it's skin, so it quickly perked up looking for more attention. Although, after awhile of sleep it slipped into a simply thick cock, full of blood and wishing it had more attention.