CapturedbytheSS Read Online Free PDF Page B

scold young girls
in private, but I’m more bothered by his question than the title he chose.
    I only shrug indifferently, as if I have no clue what he’s
talking about. But in truth, his question just hit a nerve. He’s dragging out a
truth I’ve tried hard to either ignore or deny.
    Since my first day in intelligence, I’ve always felt there
was something odd about me, though I never knew what, and it was often a source
of frustration and displeasure to my superiors. I was often told things such
as, “You ask too many questions” or “Just follow orders”.
    It’s one reason why I volunteer for more assignments. I
always feel I’m trying to prove something. His hand slips out from under my
chin.
    “You are a curious case,” he mutters, standing up straight.
“I was right to bring you here. I need more time to question you. I want more
than a name and serial number.”
    He reaches beside him to the items he left on the nightstand.
He picks up the rope and the knife. Much to my relief, he uses the knife to cut
up sections of rope. I’m hoping that’s all he plans to do with it.
    “Lie back down, American. I doubt you can pick a knot.”
    I don’t want to, but I don’t feel I have much choice. Since
he took my bobby pins, I wouldn’t be able to pick the handcuffs anyway, but I
guess he’s not taking any chances. I obediently lie back the way I was. He
retrieves my right wrist and pulls it over my head.
    He holds my right hand against the headboard and positions
my arm with my wrist facing out. He then knots the rough, thin rope around my
pinned limb, effectively immobilizing my arm. Clutching another section of cut
rope, he leans over me and captures my other hand. He tethers my other wrist to
the headboard. I don’t fight him at all.
    Walking toward the foot of the bed, he pulls a delicate
silver chain from his pocket. It looks like a bracelet or a piece of jewelry.
    “Obviously, I should have put this on you earlier,” he
mutters, wrapping the silver links around my left ankle.
    I know what the anklet is…at least, I think I do. I’m
guessing it’s part of a tracking system, most likely a GPS locator. If I do
manage to get away, he’ll be able to find me with it. My suspicions are
confirmed when he pulls a small handheld device from his pocket. It’s about the
size of a cell phone or a digital camera.
    I see the light from the device’s screen on his uniform and
face. I think he’s checking to confirm my locator is working. Without a word to
me, he pockets the device and then retrieves a longer section of rope. Wrapping
the rope around both my ankles, he ties my feet together before knotting the
rope to the footboard.
    “There. I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere now.”
    He straightens before looking me up and down. I’m not
certain, but he seems to pause for a moment. I’m not sure what exactly he sees.
Seemingly embarrassed, he shakes his head slightly and looks away. A muscle
tightens in his jaw, as if he’s angry about something.
    Well hell, I don’t know what his freakin’ problem is. I’m
pretty sure I’m the one having the bad day here!
    Genuine fear settles over me. I don’t like being tied down.
It reminds me a little too much of certain pictures and rape films my
instructors made me watch. I have no idea what he’s going to do to me, but I
can take a pretty good guess. I’ve been trained on what to expect in the event
of capture. He’ll most likely rape and torture me before dragging me off to my
public execution. I don’t mind…seriously, I don’t.
    I knew what I got myself into when I agreed to work in
intelligence. No one sugar-coated this profession. I was told point-blank what
to expect in the event of capture, but that doesn’t stop me from being afraid.
That annoying self-preservation instinct is just making this harder than
necessary.
    With me securely tied down, he turns and simply walks away.
His boots thud across the hardwood floor.
    Tilting my head, I