Darkness.

A splitting headache.

Something stuffed into her mouth.

And then she woke up to find herself strapped to a chair. Nylon moving straps, the kind with metal clamps. They were wrapped tightly around her like she was an expensive piece of furniture, their edges digging into the skin on her arms and legs. And what the hell was in her mouth? A piece of cloth? It was hard to breathe with her mouth taped shut.

And then Mira realized that she actually was gagged and bound in some strange room. This was actually happening. She screamed as she struggled against the straps.

“Ah, there you are,” came a familiar nasally voice from behind her. “I don't hit people in the head with hammers very often, so I wasn’t sure what to expect, really.”

She looked around for an escape.

She was in a wine cellar. One door. No windows.

“I mean, you were breathing, so that was good. But, you never know. People breathe when they're in a coma. Right? Well, wait. Are you in a coma? Do people scream when they're in a coma?”

Mira cursed at him when he stepped into view.

Chuck.

He walked in front of her, still speaking in that familiar, friendly co-worker tone. “Hey, buddy. Long day, huh?”

She screamed again. Why the fuck was she gagged and bound? And why was Chuck her captor?

“Yeah,” he said calmly. “Sorry I had to hit you so hard. I wanted to just chloroform you, but, well... you had to go and be stubborn about it.”

He touched her, one hand running through her hair, and her entire body tensed.

“That's gonna be your downfall one of these days. Being so stubborn.” She felt his hand land on her shoulder, squeezing it. “Yep,” he said, patting her. “You're a hard nut to crack, Mira. Gave me no choice.”

Fuck this. She leaned sideways, squeezing his hand between her head and shoulder, pinching it there until he drew it away.

“Feisty girl,” he said. “I like that.”

She tried telling him to go fuck himself, but there was too much tape.

“What?” he asked. “What are you trying to say?”

She tried again.

“I can remove that gag if you want. But you gotta be nice. Can you be nice?”

She tried to convey through her eyes what her mouth was unable to say. Mainly, a searing hatred.

“Can you be nice and quiet?” Chuck asked again.

Mira nodded. Sure. She'd be quiet.

“I hope so,” he said as he walked up to her. “Because I hate having to hurt you.” He ripped the tape off with one swift pull. It felt like part of her skin had come off with it. “I bet you know why I'm doing this.”

Oh, she had an idea. She'd always felt uncomfortable around Chuck. Something about him had just been "off." And given her uncovering of Langhorne’s misdeeds, it wasn’t too big a stretch to assume his loyal-to-a-big-fucking-fault personal assistant would be involved too. But still, it was a mind-fuck to watch him lording over her as the evil captor. He'd always seemed awkward and creepy, but through it all, he’d been at least benevolent. Was his true personality so thoroughly heinous?

It couldn’t be, could it? She expected him to break out in laughter at any minute, finally letting her in on the practical joke. But then she remembered—and felt—the throbbing side of her skull that could very well be cracked.

“Yeah, I know why you've kidnapped me,” she said.

“And why is that?” Damn, he didn’t even deny it.

“Because you're scared of going to jail.”

“You're half right. I am scared of going to jail. But that's unrelated. The reason I've got you here is to fix what your little virus destroyed.”

“What virus?”

He sneered. “Play dumb one more time and see what happens. I dare you.”

“Fine. But if you're scared of the jail time, then you made a big mistake in tying me up like this. Kidnapping plus whatever else you've got going on with Langhorne.”

“Why are you always so fucking nosy?” he asked. “That's the reason why you're in this mess. I liked you. We both did, Langhorne and I. But then you had to start nosing around in our business, and then ratting on us to some security firm?”

Mira's mind raced, wondering where Jackson was, if he was safe. He must be safe. Of course he'd have better sense than Mira to wind up unconscious and tired up in a room somewhere. He'd probably been through scenarios like this hundreds of times. He'd see it coming a mile away. He had seen it coming... Jackson had been suspicious that this night was a trap from the very beginning. But she’d insisted on coming anyway. Well, shit.

“You're here because you fucked everything up for me,” said Chuck. He grabbed an open wine bottle and took a swig. “I know it was you. The whole thing crashed right after I caught you messing around with his computer. And then I started watching you, following you with a little help from some handy spyware. Just how many coffees do you drink a day, Mira? But, oddly enough, you seemed to have no idea I was doing it. Now, how is that possible? How could you create such a heinous virus, but then be so clueless about a little digital surveillance?

“I... I don't know what you—”

“Maybe I should bring your date in here and ask him about it?”

“Good luck.”

“Maybe he could explain it all to me.”

“He'd never help you.”

“He would if I had a knife up to both of your throats.” Chuck put the bottle down on a table before looking at Mira, smiling. “Right? Don't you think he would, then?”

Chuck was a total lunatic, and Mira was done talking. She stayed silent. But her silence only seemed to provoke him.

“Huh?” he said, stepping up close to her “You wouldn’t want that right?” He put his small, clammy hand to her throat, squeezing it gently.

“Stop,” she said, choking.

Chuck slid his hand down her throat to her chest, over two straps and then firmly around her breast, holding it and massaging her. “Or would you rather we just keep this between me and you?”

Mira squirmed, unable to move away from his grasp. “Fuck you!” she yelled.

Chuck removed his hand and cocked it back as if preparing to backhand her across the face. “Keep your voice down or you'll get the tape. Or worse.”

“Then stop touching me, you miserable fuck. You're so fucking pathetic.”

Chuck’s face eased up into a smile. “You're always so mean to me,” he said, backing off.

“Was that your first time touching a woman?” Mira asked. “You're a virgin, right?”

Yes, provoke the madman holding you captive, great idea.

But Mira couldn’t hold the words back.

Chuck laughed. He seemed to be having a wonderful time.

“You hate us all so much,” Mira said. “It's amazing.”

“Hate who? Women? No, I just hate rats. You're not a woman, you're a rat.” He took another pull from the wine bottle.

Mira looked around the room for an escape, or a tool. Anything.

“What's going on, Mira? Looking for something?”

“No,” she said, pretending to adjust herself under the tight straps.

“The only way you’re getting out of here is to cooperate with me.”

“What do you want?”

“First, I want to know what you did to my computer. And then I want you to fix it so I can get back in touch with my good friends in Kenya. The delivery is only a few days away and you're gonna have to fix whatever the fuck you did.”

“I can't help you. I don't know how. I got my instructions and carried them out. And that's it.”

“So what you're saying... is that you're useless to me? Is that it?”

“Yes. I am.”

“So I can just go ahead and off you right now, then?”

Don’t give in. Don’t give him the satisfaction.

Mira stared into his eyes, suppressing a cringe at the malevolence she saw deep inside. How could Chuck not care if he was arming small children, for fuck's sake!

“Come on, give yourself some credit. You decrypted our communications; that takes skill. You know how to help me. You're not even trying!”

“How can I try? I don’t know this computer shit. Really.”

“Okay. Fine. I'll make it easy.” Chuck walked behind her again. The door opened and he muttered something to someone out of her line of sight.

“How do you expect to get away with this?” Mira said over her shoulder. “You're being investigated as we speak.”

Chuck came away from the door, his footsteps approaching Mira's chair. “You think it's the first time the senator has been investigated?” With a grunt, Chuck tipped her chair onto one leg and then spun it around until she was facing the door. He dropped the chair back on its legs. “It's a crooked town, and he's got a lot of friends. It'll get dropped, don't you worry.”

Mira heard deep voices and scuffling noises outside the door.

“There's someone I want you to meet,” Chuck said.

“What?”

“I couldn’t find Jackson. But I've got the next best thing.”

Two large men walked in. They were dragging a third man between them, each of them holding onto an arm. At first, Mira couldn’t tell who it was. The man's head was slumped down. He was stripped to his underwear and covered in bruises.

“Okay, that's good,” said Chuck. “Thanks. Just toss him on the ground there.”

The two thugs dropped the man into a heap on the ground. It was an elderly man. White hair. He wasn't moving. Chuck walked over to him and grabbed a handful of whatever white hair he had left, lifting up his head so Mira could see the swollen and bloodied face of her father.

“Dad! No!” Mira cried out at Chuck, sounding like a wounded animal.

“Think you can help me out now?” he asked. “Or do we have to make him look worse?”

“You fucker!” She looked in horror at her father, the frail wisp of a man who seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness.

“I know, I know,” he waved a hand almost dismissively. “Now, listen, I'm going to untie your hands so you can type. But if you try anything stupid, it's game over. Got it?”

“Just stop hurting him,” said Mira, barely able to breathe.

Chuck came around to unbuckle the two straps that were cutting into her arms. “I can't have you hyperventilating like that, Mira. I need you to work.” He flung the straps loose and pushed her head down to her knees. “Take deep breaths. Deep breaths.”

From the moment her hands came loose, Mira had to fight the urge to claw them against Chuck's ugly face. At that moment, as he stood over her, it was an instinct as powerful as breathing, the need to inflict damage at any opportunity. But she needed to think long-term, when she could cause some real pain, like sending his scrawny ass away for life in a maximum security penitentiary.

She delayed the gratification and dug her nails into her thighs instead.

“There you go,” said Chuck softly. “Keep breathing. I just need you to do a little computer work and then everything will be fine.” He slid a laptop over her knees. “Okay, show me what you did.”

Mira looked at an encrypted email on the screen. “What do you mean?” she asked, sniffling.

“Come on,” he said. “What did you use to decrypt this?”

“I didn't.”

“Mira, I told you...” Chuck pulled a black semi-automatic pistol from his waistband. “I told you about playing dumb.” He aimed the gun at her father.

Before Mira could scream she felt the concussion of a gun blast ripple through her body. And then she heard the groans of her father as he gripped his bleeding thigh. He was fully awake now, rocking back and forth in pain.

“The next one's in his head!” Chuck shouted over Mira's screams. “And if you need another one, it'll be your head!” He pointed the gun at Mira and she instinctively squirmed away from the muzzle. “But you won't need another one, right? Wasn't one enough? I think your father would agree.”

“Kill me,” her father said. “Kill me and let her go. Please.”

Mira sobbed uncontrollably. “Okay,” she said, “I'll do it, I'll do it.”

“You can read it?” asked Chuck.

“Yes! Yes, I can read it. Just put the gun away.”

“Oh? How can you read it? I thought you were clueless with computers.”

Mira blinked away her tears to get a good look at the screen. “I can translate it,” she said.

“What's the email title?” asked Chuck, lowing the gun slightly.

She squinted at the top lines of text, quickly discerning which line was the title. “The title says... Ship delay.”

“What about the body? What's the rest say?”

“Uh... There's a cargo ship in the mid-Atlantic. Repairs being made. It will take an extra... two extra days.”

“I knew it,” he said, laughing. “I knew you were the code breaker.”

As she looked at the screen, Mira could hear her father groaning again. She'd never heard him make those kinds of noises before.

“Hey, Mr. Swanson. Congratulations. Your daughter is too smart for her own good.”

“Stop talking to him,” Mira barked. “What do you want me to do? Come on, hurry up.” It felt truly disgusting to be offering her help to Chuck. But he was the one holding the gun.

“It's simple,” he said. “Certainly not worth dying over. I want you to pretend you're at work and translate all those emails into English. That's all.”

A sudden beeping sound made Chuck search through his pockets. He pulled out his phone and answered it with a harsh, “What is it? I'm busy.”

“Infiltrators,” said the voice on the other end, loudly enough for Mira to make out what he was saying. “They're making a real mess of things out here.”

“Hold on,” barked Chuck. “I'll be right out.”

The words gave Mira a glimmer of hope. Even though she had two thugs keeping watch on her, she was at least free of Langhorne's lackey. Maybe she could whip up some miraculous plan in his absence. His goons didn’t look all that bright.

“Don't be a hero,” Chuck told Mira before storming out the door.

Fuck that. Nothing would stop her from being a hero. Certainly not Chuck's goons, who could hardly tell the difference between Mira's email reading and something else. She only hoped that Tansy—and the special extra toy he’d built for her—were still watching.