v. the failure

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ELIZA'S SKIN WAS ON FIRE, and she didn't know if it was because of the man that was currently pressed closely behind her or if it was because of the adrenaline flowing through her veins.

Either way, she felt parched and gulped as the blade of the large knife pressed into her throat, threatening to slice it open. The pressure of the knife caused the flesh underneath it to redden and making it hard for Eliza to focus on her thoughts.

She felt him shift a bit behind her, then felt the blade disappear. The muzzle of the shotgun soon pressed against her midback.

"Hands up," The man's gruff voice ordered from behind her. Eliza heard him but hesitated with listening. Due to that, the muzzle was pressed harder against her,"Either you comply or die. Your choice, baby."

She wanted to desperately for him to stop calling her that, but unfortunately she was in no position to do so. Nor was she in any high ground to disobey the man's orders. Eliza sighed then slowly lifted her arms up towards the ceiling.

Quickly, she felt his gloved hands roam her body, patting her down, like an officer would, for any other weapons. Just like she had ordered Ford to do to him. Eliza couldn't stop the immense beating of her heart, and the feeling of delight by the simple touch of his hands against her, despite for the man wearing leather gloves just like her.

But when she felt his hands descend lower down her back to check her back pockets, then linger a little too long on her ass, she scowled.

"Touch my ass again and you won't have any hands," She said to the man with hostility. Eliza felt the heat from his own body disappear.

The mysterious man chuckled at the rashness of the woman,"You are in no position to threaten me, especially since I have the gun. You're lucky you have a nice ass, or you'd be dead."

It took all her self-control from turning around and slapping him for the bold attempt of even touching her.

"Hands behind your back, now,"Was his next command. Eliza rolled her eyes but did as he said, much to her disliking.

"So demanding aren't we, Officer?" Eliza mocked.

The man quickly grabbed her hands and held them behind her back with a tight grip. Eliza's scowl was even more evident when the bite of cold metal was felt against her flesh from the metallic zipties, he had picked up from Ford's body. Again, the shotgun's tip was pushed into her back.

"Move." He said in his deep voice, and followed by pressing the muzzle deeper at her back. Eliza, not wanting to get shot, listened to him begrudgingly and started walking to the corner where the petrified hostages gathered in a group.

She slowed her pace down as they near, in order to annoy the man, but was surprised by the blunt force of the weapon against her back, knocking her to straight to the ground. Eliza glared up at the man who only stared at her impassively back.

"Slow and steady won't win you the race this time, sweetheart. Get up."

Eliza struggled to her knees without the help of her arms, that were now tied securely behind her. The man watched her struggle with amusement, not offering any help. Eliza couldn't stand back up, no matter how hard she tried.

Aiming the shotgun at her head, the amusement from the man's face clicked away, a frown now there,"Stand up."

"I can't fucking stand!"

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