Dangerous Liaisons

La Fortalesa

The light hurt her eyes; hurt her head and the scraped skin from where the bindings had been ripped off, hurt her wrists. She was lying in a small but well-furnished room. The window gave nothing away. As she squinted in the bright sunlight she saw only blue sky and white clouds. I'm not in Kansas now she thought to herself with a wry smile. Turning over, she winced in pain. Her shoulder ached where she'd been kicked - a mirror over the dresser would later show her the large black and blue footprint.

Her head pounded and her mouth felt like it was full of cotton wool. She needed a drink, water would suffice but she would have preferred something to numb the ache of her body and mind.

Her mind instantly returned to the photo. Her Father was dead. Executed. She felt her stomach churn and her heart scream. Despite all their fights, as father and daughter did, he was still her Dad. She wanted to grieve, she wanted to howl and rant and cry but right now? She couldn't allow herself the luxury of tears. They could come later. She needed to focus. She needed to escape and warn Jonathan.

Jonathan. He still had the power to reduce her to a snivelling wreck. She'd tried to forget him. Tried to remember the heartless way he'd dumped her from his life. She had failed. Despite every instinct telling her to move on, to leave him in the past, she'd continued to love him. Hate him. And love him. So much so she still had the photo of the beach beside her bed. But she hated him. She really did. Didnt she?

Now wasn't the time. Love him or hate him, it made no odds, she didn't want him executed like her father. She didn't want him hurt full-stop. Roper - she was sure it was him behind this - had obviously gone to a great deal of trouble to set all this up. She was going to do everything in her power to make sure he failed. She owed Jonathan that much.

Her mind wandered back to that day in Marseilles. Jonathan had been willing to risk everything to protect her. Her eyes closed involuntarily as she remembered the feeling of kissing him in the police station afterwards. Her heart sighed, they had been so perfect together. Or so she thought. If only she knew what she'd done wrong. If they got out of this, she decided, she would ask him. She deserved that much surely.

Giving herself a mental shake, she knew she had to fight back. She had to be strong. And that started now.

She sat up slowly, feeling very unsteady. There was a jug and a glass on the table to her left. Standing she swayed and promptly sat back down with a thump. The world continued to spin for a minute then steadied. She tried again. This time she made it to the table and picked up the jug.

Slopping some water into the glass she picked it up and sank the contents without pausing. Refilling it she walked slowly to the window. As she looked out, it became clear not only was she not in London any more, she wasn't even in the UK. But where? Before she had a chance to think about it any further, the door opened and she turned to see Frisky walk in. Automatically she hurled the glass at him.

He dodged to the side with a grin and it smashed ineffectually against the far wall, glass and water cascading over the tiled floor.

"Ah so yer awake then eh? Glad tae see ye huvnae lost yer spark Katy" he smiled and walked towards her. She knew better than to try and hit him again.

"My name is KATHERINE" she spat "Only my friends call me Kate and NOONE except my father calls - called - me KATY". If she could have actually spat on him, she would but she was to her annoyance still far too dry-mouthed.

"Where am I?"

"Ah well now, that's the thing eh? Where d'you THINK you are?" he leered at her as he stood next to her looking out the window. She looked at him carefully, he wasn't being friendly for the sake of it. He'd been ordered to. She was sure of it. Roper still called the tune. Even from prison.