Hero

ADRIAN

               I felt fuzzy and groggy when I woke up. I was roped in a chair. I stared at the person sitting on a chair backward in front of me. He was blurry for a moment.

               "...stop, you'll mess up my hair... " I mumbled, finally waking up, "...who are you, I don't recognize..."

               "You came out of that quickly," the man in the cloak said, "I'm glad. It was getting boring watching you sleep." Then, I recognized that the man's voice sounded familiar again like I'd heard it somewhere, but it was American. The only person I knew who had an American accent was Scarface, and I knew for a fact that this wasn't Scarface. He could be altering his voice, so I couldn't quite place who he was. I was sure we were taught how to do that at the RIA.

               "Who are you? Why am I here?" I asked.

               "Who I am doesn't matter, but you're here because you're my bait. I need you to attract the Moralés'. I know that Rodriguez will come for you, most likely with LeBron. Fourteen years ago, my orders were to kill both of them, but unfortunately, I failed that mission. Now, my boss has given me a new mission: to continue the mission from fourteen years ago," the man explained. So, he did work for the RIA, but what American worked for the RIA?

               "You're going to...kill Rodriguez?" I asked.

               "Why not? You hate him anyway, yeah?" I thought for a while.

               "Okay, I...I don't hate him," I rephrased, "I hate everything about him. I don't want you to kill him."

               "Wouldn't you like that?" the man smiled evilly. "Too bad. I've gotta follow orders."

               "But what about Samantha?" I inquired.

               "I don't have any orders to harm her," he thought momentarily, "But if she happens to get in my way–"

               "You better not touch her," I said clearly, "And you still need to answer my first question: Who are you?"

               "I'm telling you, Adrian, that it doesn't matter," he paused, "But I'm glad I made this much of an impression on you that you're so eager to know..." There was no way. I'd know that Russian accent anywhere. It was like it changed from American to Russian in a second. He took off his hood. "I am Sergei Abdulov."

               I wanted to scream, but I was too shocked. I bit my lip in anger so hard that it started to bleed. Too shocked to say anything, too shocked to struggle or move. Sergei walked up to me and ruffled up my hair.

               "You really haven't changed at all," he said, "You're sticking to white as your hair color still? I imagine that the other kids at school probably call you albino."

               "I'll kill you," I muttered.

               "What?" he inquired. I looked up at him with rage and screamed at him.

               "I said I'll kill you!" I yelled. He stared at me blankly.

               "Try not to move so much," he said, "They'll be here any minute. So, stay here and be the bait, and when the fish come, I'll pull the hook," he smiled evilly at my struggling, and walked to the back of the chair. Before I could say anything, he gagged me. "No crying for help, either," he told me, "Now, hold still for a second..." And before I could process what he would do next, he hit me on the back of my head with what felt like his gun, and I blacked out.