Illya and Gaby - The Frenchman (The Man From U.N.C.L.E)

Chapter 11 - Little Chop Shop Girl

Gaby's wrists ached as she tried to twist her way out of the restraints holding her arms behind her back. The hold was filled with the whimpers and whispers of the other women as they comforted each other.

She arched her neck, trying to see anything through the sea of darkness in the hold, but there was no point. They hadn't been given any light, not even a single lantern. It made it all so much worse, not being able to see.

A heavy thump came from above, reverberating through the hold, and the hatch swung open a moment later. A bulky figure descended the stairs, backlit by the lights on deck. The whimpers and shifting stilled as he looked over the women and grunted in apparent satisfaction.

"Be quiet and no one will hurt you," he said in a deep, harsh voice. "You don't want any trouble. We will leave shortly and once we're in open water, no one will be able to hear you anyway. No point in waking the captain with your whining." He turned and scaled the steps. The hatch slammed shut and locked, sealing the women back in.

Gaby stood the moment he was gone and started edging toward the hatch. The faintest sliver of light outlined the doorway and she stumbled toward it desperately, doing her best not to kick any of her companions as she went. When she collided with the wall, she breathed a sigh of relief and began to feel her way along awkwardly, hands still tied behind her back.

She just needed a sharp edge. Anything she could scrape the rope against to loosen it. But the walls were so smooth and uniform, broken only but the rivets holding the great panels of metal together. She cursed under her breath and kept moving, apologizing when she bumped into other women.

How she wished she'd stayed close to Illya and Napoleon throughout the day. Then she'd be out there with them, fighting to save these women instead of being one of them. She gasped as something rough scraped her hand, cutting into her flesh. She barely even felt the blood trickle over her fingers, frantically pressing the rope against the sharp edge and beginning to saw.

It was slow and agonizing and she had a cramp in her arms within minutes, but she kept going. She had to get out of here. Get help. Once they were out to sea, the chances of being saved would drop dramatically. Even Illya couldn't search the entire ocean.

The telltale thump of someone descending warned her just in time to stumble away from the wall and drop to the floor just as the door swung open. This time they'd brought a light and they shined it into the faces of each of the women without saying a word. As they moved closer to her, Gaby's heart began to race. They likely weren't looking for her, but if they were...

"You." One of the men snapped, reaching down to grab Gaby's arm and haul her to her feet. He turned and shouted up the stairs. "Got her, boss!"

The man jerked her toward the stairs and shoved her forward, nearly making her fall as she struggled to keep her balance. The lights above deck were practically blinding after being stuck in the hold for so long and she blinked rapidly to clear her vision. They pulled her into a chair none too gently and tied her to it with a few rough lengths of rope.

She could only pray they wouldn't notice the blood on her hands or the frayed rope around her wrists. It was loose now. Almost loose enough to pull apart. She just had to wait for the right moment.