Walter
How much blood can a human lose before they die? Because I'm certain I'm at least halfway there. Pain wise things aren't so bad- except for when I breathe and move.
I sit up anyways. The cell they've moved me to now is bigger, and at least I'm not tied to a chair. Maybe they think I'm too weak to try escaping again- boy are they wrong.
I may not feel like I have many reasons to live, but I try to remind myself of what'll happen back home if I do die. It'll hit the press within hours of the White House finding out- mourning will spread like wildfire. I don't want to do that to people. Since I have no living close relatives, my funeral would be planned by the White House on top of everything else they'd be dealing with. In retaliation, they'd probably bomb somebody or something of importance to Russia. Russia would retaliate by bombing one of our bases or embassies- probably one of the larger ones in Finland or Norway. We would be forced to retaliate. Our allies would get involved. Theirs would too. The conflict would come within an inch of world war three.
All I have to do is stay alive. Simple enough in theory- difficult in practice.
I will not be a burden- I tell myself.
I wonder briefly how the search effort's going- but then familiar footsteps down the hallway interrupt my thoughts. I roll my eyes.
"I don't know how many times I need to say this but the White House will never break. Not on nuclear codes. You're wasting your time and resources with this bullshit-"
"Mr.Adkins." Ivanov says as he unlocks my cell door. "I do not think I am. There's been a... change of plans."
"Excuse me?" I'm struck by his lack of bodyguards.
"I figured we'd have a private conversation for once- and you may be right." He nods. "Which is why I am going to give you two options. I feel like that is more than fair considering you killed some of my men."
"They deserved it."
"Depends on perspective, I guess. You know one of them had kids, right?"
"They shouldn't have been working for a dictator then. Death seems to come with the profession."
"Indeed it does." He says. "Would you like to hear your options?"
"Not particularly."
"You may come work for my press department- it's quite understaffed right now, or you may die."
"Go to hell."
"Maybe in twenty years." He shrugs. "You know- I was discussing you with my national security advisors. They told me... this new plan could cause worldwide chaos short term but would be overall good for Russia in the long term."
"You gonna start kidnapping a bunch of world leaders and holding them hostage until their governments give up nuclear codes- or whatever else it is you want?" I laugh. His face stays calm, expressionless. I stop laughing. Something deep in my brain understands through the delirium. "You're like... genuinely fucking insane if you think you'll be able to snatch even ONE-"
The loudest crash I've ever heard in my life, followed by what sounds like collapsing bricks, interrupts me. Gunshots echo off of every wall.
A woman screams. I don't recognize it.
I smirk.
"You're fucked, Mr.President."