Song of the Firebird

Fifty

'Two hours and thirty minutes', Natasha muttered, 'That's impressive. Even the hard cold floor hasn't woken you up.' The man on the floor stirred as she spoke.

It took him a while to regain his senses and why he was lying face down on the floor in the first place. He groaned as he tried to open his lips to speak. The pain on his jaw did not die, however, it continued to throb him to an extent that he could not think of anything except the pain.

For a moment, he was amazed at her skill to knock out a person in a swift blow. The next second, he punched both of his fists while getting himself up from the floor. He could feel the chillness, though the windows were bolted shut. As his legs began to tremble, his head shot down realising that the last time he was in his shorts was yesterday night.

His eyes went as wide as the saucers after he studied his form, clothed in a plain undershirt and shorts. Running hands through his hair, he swore as he began replaying the events before he was knocked out. His head shot up frantically, checking for the other occupant in the room.

The impending doom reflected in his eyes as he discovered that one of the women escaped while the other lounged against the windows, looking intently at him. That bloody vixen, he thought.

Taking slow strides towards Natasha, he asked, 'Where is the other woman?'

Natasha smirked and said, 'Let her go. Only I have business with your boss.' Her eyes spanned his shaking figure. 'I tried to cover you with the other coat,' she motioned to the trench coat by his feet, 'But it was two sizes smaller.' She bit back her laughter.

'It might be true,' he said and looked for his belongings around, 'It is my duty to report her escape. Who knows, she might have been the breakfast for the hungry cougars.'

Blinded by her fears, Natasha saw him dust every nook and corner, searching for the very thing that she fished out of his pockets. 'I might have slipped into my friend's jacket.'

'YOU!', he growled and grabbed her by the neck. His fingers were focused on stopping the blood circulation and air pathways on that part of her body. 'You piece of filth!' Natasha did not fight his hold. Instead, she kicked hard on his groin, making her to plop to the floor along with him. The man stumbled back on the impact, his hands desperately soothing his male part.

Enraged, he let his fist charge at her resting form while her hands were caressing her bump. As he saw her hands circling around her protruding abdomen, he stopped on his tracks. When he was about to let his softer side take control of his anger, the door burst open.

'The Head of Security demands your absence for the last hour, Marcus. And here you are, playing with our hostage. Don't let the boss hear any of your crappy excuses.'

Natasha ignored her onset of pain and looked vehemently at Ryder who was standing by the door. She suppressed her bubbling hope as he began to urge his fellow comrade to vacate the place.

Marcus muttered inaudibly as he walked past Ryder. He stopped on his tracks when he felt a jacket thrown at his shoulder. Raising his right hand as a sign of gratitude, he left the couple.

Ryder silently closed the door behind him. 'You should have crossed borders at this moment, yet you welcomed yourself to the pack.' He kneeled, making direct eye contact with her. He muttered in rage, 'What do you think you're doing by staying back?'

Natasha sighed, 'I have reasons to stay and fight back. I want to stop running.'

'You're forgetting something here. We worked as a team to escape this mess. This shithole. This monster who will be sharing this same room in a span of a few minutes!' He groaned as he took a seat next to her on the cold ground. 'You're selfish, Natasha. How could you let me down? As much as you had gone through, I had my own share of both psychological and physical torture, ever since I volunteered to help you.'