Chapter 9

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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Kudos and BBC. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

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Alexa had never run so fast in her life, her thoughts only to get to her gun upstairs.  There was no where else for her to go.  She climbed up the steps two at a time, praying that though Mikhael may be much bigger than her, he wouldn’t be as fast as her. 

Alexa had reached the sixth step when Mikhael’s fingers caught her leg, grabbing her at the ankle and yanking her backwards, slamming her down onto one knee as she grabbed a bannister for support. 

She kicked furiously at him, her bare feet hitting his face, or whatever was left of his face, and Mikhael shouted in anger as her foot hit the joint of his jaw, sending him shouting in pain and grabbing hold of his face.

Alexa was running for her life, adrenaline coarsing through her body as she scrambled up the stairs, her knee throbbing with pain, making movement almost impossible.  She made it to the top of the stairs, turning round the corner by the time Mikhael, cursing in Russian, thundered behind her.

Mikhael knew that he was running out of time.  Someone would have called the police by now.  But Mikhael wasn’t about to leave without her.  He’d waited too long.

Alexa had barely enough time to bolt the door to her room when Mikhael came crashing through, tearing the door off its hinges and knocking the wind out of her as she landed on her back on the floor.  Then he was on top her and Alexa kicked and punched him, knowing that the moment she’d give in, she would have no chance at all.  She had to get up on her feet again.

Suddenly Mikhael hit her with his palm and Alexa’s head whipped backwards, stars filling her vision.  He covered her mouth with his massive hand as she fought him, trying to stay conscious even as her vision began to dim.  He was straddling her now, his breath coming in grunts as the pain in his face slowly abated.

Alexa could barely breathe as Mikhael’s hand covered her nose and her mouth.  Her vision narrowed, seeing only his face, that ugly cold face above her, the leer permanently frozen on his lips that was half-covered in scars.  He sneered at her, the chuckle from his lips making Alexa’s stomach churn with revulsion.  Then Mikhael’s other hand went to her breast, and he squeezed it hard, making her gasp in pain as he began to laugh.

“You think you can fight me, little kitten?” He said in Russian.  “You see me now?  You see what you did to me?  You and your boyfriend spy?” He spat out the words, spittle landing on Alexa’s face as she fought to breathe.

What was she thinking, she thought to herself as her vision began to dim, believing she could save herself from this madman?  He was too big for her.  She was barely half his size.  What chance did she have?   A part of Alexa’s brain was lulling her to sleep, telling her to give in to the darkness, to let the shadows of her fear take over.

Suddenly something in Alexa’s mind awoke, and in the oncoming darkness that threatened to overcome her as her brain slowly starved for oxygen,  Alexa heard a voice.

It came to her in a flash, the image of her flat on her back, a man’s forearm hard against her neck.

The man was shouting insults at her, taunting her.  He was telling her things that she had told him in confidence over drinks after an afternoon at the shooting range, when she thought she could trust him as much as Harry had trusted him.

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