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Crooked

***

Maya and Abby had just finished their meal together. They left separately because Maya had to use the bathroom and insisted that Abby didn't need to wait for her, but she should have let her. Maya's guard was down as she walked to her car. Her gun wasn't on her and she was on her phone replying to an email. She had no idea that someone was following her. She didn't even think much of it when a car pulled into the parking lot though the restaurant had been locked up for the last twenty minutes. She couldn't defend herself against three men that she wasn't expecting and had noticed. The last thing she thought before blacking out was how could I have been so foolish?

***

Maya woke in an unfamiliar environment. It was too dark to determine where she was, but she could feel hard, cool concrete below her and a handcuff on her left wrist. She shook it to see where it was connected and it rattled against something metal. Suddenly, the light flickered on and an Iranian man came in. He was tall, buff, and his head was shaved. She could easily explained how he looked again, assuming she could get herself away from these men. "What do you want?" Maya asked and began to look around the room. it was completely empty except the chair that was bolted to the floor beside her. The room was fully concrete and there was only one way in or out. No windows either so she would have to devise a thought out plan with minimal details because she didn't know what was on the other side of the door. "Well?" Maya said, impatient and continued to avoid his gaze. She saw him rock on his heels before turning and shutting off the light. Then there was the sound of the metal door slamming shut.

***

Maya was bored out of her mind. She wasn't sure if ten minutes had past or six hours when the door opened the second time. The light was on again and the same man said front of her. "Necesitas usar el baño?" Maya was confused why the Iranian was speaking Spanish to her. "Moet u de badkamer gebruiken?" Dutch. When she still didn't answer, he tried again. "An gá duit an seomra folctha a úsáid?" She wasn't sure what language that was, her best guess was Irish and she realized what he was doing. He was searching for a language they had in common because he probably didn't speak English. She didn't reply, but she did nod at the man. Instead of coming and unchaining her like she would have expected, he went to the door and mumbled something in a low tone. He was handed a bucket and she caught a glimpse beyond the door, but it was nothing encouraging. It was just more warehouse.

"Qué quieres conmigo?" She asked the man what he wanted with her. He grunted, throwing the bucket in her direction. "Por qué me has traído a este lugar?" Why have you brought me to this place. The man scowled at her. "Mi gente we preguntará dónde estoy..." My people will be wondering where I am.

"Usted sabrá porqué usted está aquí pronto bastante," the man replies that she will find out soon enough, he then leaves her to use the bucket. She reluctantly peed in the bucket.

***

Time was passing, but how quickly or slowly she did not know and not having a window put a damper on guessing the time. The third time the man came into the room, he did not come alone. Beside him now was a shorter, scrawnier man in comparison but he was still strong capable. He was lighter skinned and he had a full, well-maintained beard. It took her a second to recognize him. "Victor?" She let out a heavy sigh, he had gone rogue. "I thought that you were dead. Why are you doing this?"

Victor smiled, dubiously, "Maya, Maya, Maya." He approached her and ran a finger along her collarbone. "I've missed you." Maya set her jaw. "I think you've figured out by now that the burnt corpse you found wasn't me."

"Who was it?" Maya asked, wanting to understand why she was facing one of her agents in a situation like this.

"Richard Douglas," he smirked at her in a victorious manner. Douglas was the focus for Tuscan41. NCIS had suspicions that he was selling illegal guns, drugs, and technology from high up Marines and Navy all around the world. They narrowed down suspects and locations.

"Are you leading his crew now?" Maya asked, committing every detail to memory so that she could regurgitate the information later.

"He was never the leader. He worked for me, but I never imagined you would get so close to my operation. It was truly baffling. I thought they gave you that assistant job because they didn't know what do with you," he chuckled, giving her a sympathetic look, "but sadly, the outcome of your visit here will end in death, but that's only after I find out about what is in that file on this op and I will need you call in about the corpse."

"I don't do anything for terrorists, Victor. You're out of luck, I'm afraid," Maya smiled, "I guess you'll just have to kill me."

He grit his teeth and before he could say anything, he got a phone call. He spoke in Persian, she guessed this because the Iranians ears peaked when he answered the call. Maya knew that he knew multiple languages but she had a gut feeling. "I'll be back for you." He said something else to his Iranian friend and left the room.

***

Maya's Iranian 'friend' came in some time later, he didn't speak but he was definitely eyeing her. She sensed what was coming and there was no way she could stop it. He was a lot stronger than she was and it also didn't help that she was handcuffed. "La camiseta," he motioned for her take it off. She let out a breathe and did what she was told. "Ahora pantelones," he says and again she does what she is told, reluctantly. He came over to her, pulled off her panties, and slipped inside of her. She bit her tongue, fighting the urge to call out in pain.