I had woken on the plane, spewed my guts up yet again and after another gazillion hours, we landed. Then to my horror, we went to another plane and repeated again until we had finally arrived back on Italian soil.
I was ushered into one of the two black sleek cars, pushed and pulled and manhandled by bodyguards. The drive, I overheard was only a short one to the embassy so a few minutes drive really. But traffic was full on, a crash or road works. The driver took another route, a longer route with less cars. I sat in the back, all by myself, petrified.
I'm staying at the Embassy till the case goes to court. I have to testify what I saw and heard. To prove that this Angelo Ricci was involved. I will meet the man. I will finally see what he really looks like besides that one grainy photo I saw six months ago. I can finally put a face to the man that haunts my nightmares.
No details were given to me when this will happen. Or if he has been caught yet. The plane trip was longer than what I wanted as we had plane hopped a couple times. I don't know why it happened, maybe confusing anyone that was after me.
All I know is that Angelo Ricci wanted me dead.
No shit. Came the inner voice. I ignored her as I stared out the windows, looking into darkness. That thought of this Angelo Ricci trying to have me murdered gave me shivers again. I was cold. Really cold and the heating in the car wasn't doing it for me. It may have been warm on the other side of the world, but not here.
Then I heard brakes screeching and a crash, metal grinding together and the car I was in halted.
Alert, I looked out the windows to see anything, but the darkness surrounded us. Did the car in front just crashed?
The guards at the front of the car I was in must have recovered from what they saw as they stepped out and one got in with me, his gun raised and ready to fire.
I heard gunshots as I curled into a ball where my feet were, my hands over my head as I tried not to scream. Once again, I was in a gun fight and here I was, covering my ears, crouching in the foetal position, crying.
I bit my lips together, squeezed my eyes shut as the night held a small and quick war. With every gunshot I heard, I jumped, a small squeal trying to escape my mouth as I continued to bite my lips together. My face was wet with fresh tears, my thoughts racing and I found myself praying, begging on not dying.
Then the car door opens next to me as I froze and I heard two quick gunshots and a grunt. I don't know if my guard shot anyone or he got shot but I stayed still. I was in the F mode. Flight, Fright or Fight. For me, it was fright. I held my breath and those couple of seconds felt like eternity. My hands covering my head, I was curled up as small as possible when I felt a hand take my hair, pulling me up and making me scream.
I scampered out of the car, bright lights blinding me as all I saw was that as my hair got pulled, making me stand then tilt my head up as I was partially dragged. The tug was harder as I cried out, my hands flying to the hands in my hair. "Let me go you ugly brute!" I screamed as I tried not only reclaiming my hair but also scampering away.
I didn't drop to my knees and cried once my hair was free from that almighty grip, I refused to as one of my hands balled up and I swung, turning my body to the person holding me, getting him in the throat. Now it I was in fight. I'm going to fight for my life if I have to.
I heard him choke on air as his hold on me loosened completely and I ran. I tried to run away from the bright lights, from them. Now flight.
I only took a few long-paced steps when I was tackled to the ground and I groaned as the air left my lungs, my arm stinging as it slid in the dirt, most likely scraping skin off. The thud of my body landing on the hard ground echoed in me as I became winded briefly.
I felt hands on my waist as I was picked up and I kicked and swung my legs, the arms had snaked around me, constricting my arms to my body. This was a whole new me coming out. I never fought before, not for anything. I was always the type of person to do as I was told. I was submissive. But right now, in this moment, I was anything but submissive. I value my life, no matter how restricted it has been and will be.
"Questo è un vero petardo." One laughed as he held me, walking back to where we were.
"English you filthy mongrel!" I swore as I kept kicking. The man holding me was behind me, lifting me up off the ground so I couldn't dig my heels in. I thrashed about as wildly as I could but it hardly affected him, even me using my heels into his shins barely made him stumble.
I was having the fight of my life, a fight to survive. I wanted to survive and the way I see it, I had a higher chance of prolonging my death by fighting instead of pleading. Pleading is weak, a sign of weakness. No one ever got anywhere through weakness. I need to be strong.
"You bastard! Let me go!" I yelled as I thrashed my body again, going side to side. I felt his grip tighten around me, feeling like I was being squeezed, to the point I think my ribs might crack. It felt like a giant constrictor snake was crushing me, making my body turn to jelly, ready to eat me.
I cried out in agony, stiffening my body before I slackened. Once the pressure loosened, making him think I had given up, I lifted my leg and kicked back again, hitting my heel into his shin so hard, it hurt me as well. I bit back the pain and forced the tears to not appear as I took the opportunity.
That made him drop me and I fell to the ground on to my hands and knees, stumbling away from him, trying to push myself up. I wanted to run again. Run for my life, run away from all this.
RUN! The voice inside me screamed.
With my hands in front of me as I scampered away, I felt a vice like grip on my leg, making me stumble again, the side of my face hitting the hard ground. I bit my tongue and lip in the process and an oomph sound reverberated out of me as I was dragged by my leg. I didn't register the metallic taste in my mouth or the weird feeling of something dripping down my chin.
Without a second thought, I dug my fingers into the ground, trying to stop them, gripping at whatever I could. But all that did was snap and bend back my nails, cutting them on the tiny sharp items on the ground, being embedded under my skin.
Whoever had me, made me flip over to my back, my other leg free as I tried thrashing it about again but I was just out of reach for it to make any damage. All I could do was kick at his hands that were wrapped around my ankle. My shirt was riding up, I felt the earth on my bare skin on my back and felt the scratches it left behind.
"Let me go you ape!" I yelled at him. I saw more car lights and prayed to however was above that it was help.
The man dragging me chuckled. "Sei un gatto selvatico." Hearing him speak in Italian made me feel pure rage. I ran and hid before to be brought to this situation. No, I am fighting and still having no luck whatsoever.
"English, you buffoon!" I screamed at him as loudly as I could. It did hurt my throat but I didn't care. I didn't care if I was in a country where my language wasn't the native tongue. But if they want to talk to me, so help me, English!
The lights from the car stayed on as I heard a door open and shut.
The grip on my leg loosened as I felt someone pull me up and took my wrist, twisting my arm around to my back, making me whine at the pain. I hear footsteps approaching me, the soft crushing of dirt and pebbles under pressure. I couldn't see, the car head lights were binding me, my eyes having a hard time adjusting.
I was forced forward even though I dug my heels into the ground, prolonging the moment. I felt pain in the back of my knees as someone kicked at them, making me drop, letting my arm go. I gasped out as I landed on my sore knees but I made no attempt at standing again. I kept my head down and my hair was covering my face as I panted, finally just starting to accept maybe defeat.
"If you're gonna kill me, just do it already!" I growled as I slowly stood up again. I didn't bother trying to look at who was in front of me. There was no point. The body would be over shadowed compared to the headlights straight in my face.
"Metti via le pistole." I heard the calm tone, as if he were bored or amused, I don't know because I can't understand what he is saying.
"English you Italian fucktards." I yelled at them as I spat at the ground, blood leaving my mouth.
The space around me was silent before I heard a deep laugh come from in front of me. I could barely see, the car lights so bright, but I could make out the shadows and shapes of people. They seemed to be entertained by what I had said and I took the opportunity while they were distracted. I flicked my hair back off my face completely and bolted again.
I don't know where I am but anywhere is better than here. But with my eyes trying to focus from the bright lights, everywhere else looked a lot darker and I didn't see the man I ran into. It felt like a brick wall as he gripped me tight, taking my hands and holding them as he spun me around.
I was done for, I knew it. I fought for as long as I could, I tried escaping, saving my life and the security I was with are dead. I was constricted once again, another human being used as my chains.
Alarms will be raised soon at the Embassy and there will be search party soon. Well, I hope anyway. I hope I don't become one of those tourists or foreigners that just get lost in the system.
The hands that gripped mine, between his chest and my back were strong and I felt his breathe on my neck. It made me shiver and not in a good way. I was petrified. The hair on the back of my neck was standing up and my heart was racing.
I am done for, I thought to myself.
Of course you are, you silly girl. Came the nastier voice.
"Let me go you barbarians!" I cried out. I could feel myself breaking down. "I didn't want to. I really didn't. He made me do it!" Now came the water works. I held them off for as long as possible, but they still came. Maybe I should plead, I'm not as strong as my adrenaline rush led me to be. Maybe if I just explain it, maybe I could live still. "I wasn't going to say anything." My throat was harsh from the yelling and now all I could manage was whispers.
I tried thrashing again, I tried to slip from the person's grip, but it tightened. I didn't however try to run, I just wanted my hands free, this position was hurting my arms.
More Italian was spoken and then I felt a sharp prick in my neck as my eyes started to droop. The breathing on my neck got heavier as I started to slump. The hands released me and I wanted to fight back, but I couldn't. I just stood there, swaying, fighting my eyelids to stay open and my inner voice was screaming run Charlotte, but I couldn't move. I couldn't feel myself as I began to fall from the weakness in my legs. I felt like I was being picked up and the last thing I remembered was a word, it sounded so distant, but it was in English.
"Wildcat."