What the cat dragged in.

20 In the presence of mine enemies.

The first thing Kelly became aware of was the rocking of a vehicle. It was a motion rather like floating in that she had no sensation of pressure against her body. For a split second, she thought she was simply waking up after too little sleep and an exhausting day. Rough, unfamiliar voices shattered that illusion. Icy fear settled like a rock in her chest.

"Goddamn it, can't you sit still?"

"Just shut the fuck up and drive."

Laughter, coarse and mean, came from a number of different sources. None seemed to be facing toward her, but she wouldn't have bet her life on that.

"Aww, still trying to hide the fact that the little bitch damn near broke your leg?"

"The cunt got in a lucky shot. Could've happened to anybody." There was a forced off-handedness to his comments. Even in her groggy state Kelly could hear the anger in his words.

"Didn't happen to anybody, it happened to you." Someone countered.

Another round of laughter.

Kelly was starting to connect with her body again. Her hands were cuffed behind her back, the metal cutting into her wrists, her shoulders protesting the angle. The shoulder the drug had been injected into was protesting the loudest. Her ankles were shackled. The circulation there suffered too. She was certain she'd have raw spots from where the tight cuff forced her socks to rub against her skin.

"Look on the bright side," One of them said. "In a few hours we'll be on the plane and you'll be able to put your feet up."

"Sure. Put your feet up, get out your crocheting-"

"You either shut the fuck up or I swear I'll-"

"You ain't gonna do much without a head start."

More laughter. Kelly used the moment to try and move her fingers, hoping they would be too distracted to notice the weak movement. She had no idea how she was going to get out of the cuffs, or out of whatever vehicle she was in. She knew she had to have everything moving when she got the opportunity though. 

The first movement was no more than a barely controlled twitch. When the banter continued she took a chance and flexed her wrists. Pain hit her and she winced. The side of her face felt tight, as if it were covered in dried-

The vision exploded behind her closed eyes. Victor turning, the shot tearing away flesh and bone and brain. Sending a thick mist of blood and tissue into her face. The sound his body made as it hit the truck and then the ground. The spreading puddle of gore, the twitches that racked his body before he went still. His vivid eyes going dull. Healing factor or not, he couldn't have survived.

Kelly squeezed her eyes shut against the memory. Either there would be time to grieve later, or they'd kill her before she could. She wasn't sure which prospect was preferable. Life without him was an unbearable idea, but to simply give up went against everything she was. She forced herself to stop thinking. Thinking was an agonizing distraction. She lay as still as she could while flexing her muscles, restoring sensation and blood flow while she listened to the conversation going on in the front of the vehicle.

"Where the hell are we goin'?"

"Airport."

"What kind of an airport is all the way out here in the middle of goddamn nowhere?"

"A private one, asshole." 

"What? You thought we were just gonna carry her onto a commercial flight? 'Scuse us, we're just your average hard-working kidnappers and we need to get this bitch from point A to point B. She's completely unconscious so she won't be needing headphones or drinks or any of them little bags of peanuts.' I don't see any problem with that, do you, Clay?"