Twenty-five

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Elizabeth:

Time ticks by slowly when you're bored and locked inside a room. I tried to find ways out of this situation, but every moment I thought about breaking out, I also remembered Harry's promise. He would rescue me, I trusted his word. So, instead of using my small pocket knife to try and pick the lock of my door, I stood still and thought about a plausible escape route.

My father was someone I couldn't trust, perhaps I never should have. As I sat and watched the sun disappear slowly, he was out there, running errands, making plans, trying to arrest Harry for plenty of crimes he did not commit. Dad strolled around, feeling completely powerful, shielded by his position but he was not director, he was just playing a small role in Benjamin's revenge.

I was in the middle of thinking about which role I played, whether I was just bait, securing Harry's presence, or if Ben still wanted something to do with me when the door opened. My heartbeat increased immensely, imagining bright green eyes looking around in desperation until they spotted me. The pleasant image lasted less than a second, replaced by dread at the sight of my father and his eyes, a perfect duplicate of my own.

"Are you hungry, thirsty, needing to pee?" I looked at him in frank disbelief, wondering what my physical needs had to do with anything.

"You're out of your mind, more and more, each passing hour." I spoke, looking down at my lap once again. The man standing between me and my only exit was not the same man who brought me and my sister to Disneyland on my tenth birthday. He was not the same dad who used to buy me milkshakes, even though mum was absolutely against those. He was a man who worked for the secret service, someone who killed people mercilessly, and used his own child if it meant getting the job done.

"I'm not going to ask again, Elizabeth. Do you need anything?" I rolled my eyes at his annoyed tone, as if he had any motives to be annoyed. The dark bruises all over my body were a plausible reason to feel annoyed, not a daughter who hates you because you played her.

"I need you to get out." Instead of following my command, he walked inside and left the door open. For a brief moment I contemplated the idea of running for the hills, but the odds were not good.

"Glad to hear you're fine. Now listen to me carefully, Elizabeth Grace, because I won't repeat it." Despite everything, I still blushed at the mention of my full name, feeling trapped, as if I had been caught doing something I shouldn't.

"I don't have much choice." I muttered under my breath, looking up at him in defiance. I felt slightly self conscious because I knew I had bruises on my face and dark circles beneath my eyes, but the attitude spoke louder than my looks. I was not bowing down to him, not again.

"In less than five minutes, I will have you restrained and shipped to another room of this house. Our source inside the agency signalled that they are already moving towards this safe house." His face didn't give much away. I could never tell if he felt displeased or accomplished. His words, however, painted a worrying portrait inside my mind. Harry had my location, but if they moved me I couldn't rely on the small hope of being rescued.

"You two are sick. Monsters who think they can rule the world carrying around big guns and using suits. You are no longer my father, you became someone I despise."

"Shut up! For Christ's sake keep your mouth shut and listen." He retorted in utter irritation, looking at me with thoughtful eyes.

"I am going to tie up your hands in your back with a rope. I believe you have the pocket knife?" I looked at him quizzically, wondering where this conversation was going.

"I do. Why?"

"Because you will use it to cut the rope once I give you the order. Do you remember our hide and seek games, Elizabeth?" The memory came back as a pleasant one.

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