Unwelcome

25

        When I crack my eyes open, I feel the absence of warmth. Bright lights force my eyes to squint at the majestic ceiling. I'm lying on the cold plane seat, drooling on its exquisite material.

Sasha is standing over me.

"Wakey, wakey"

I scowl.

     He grins, full of energy, not like he was passed out a couple of minutes ago.

"We've got a man to kidnap, Lets go lets go" He claps his hands near my ear, "Mr. D left to do some important business, so I'm on Cat duty"

          Through my half closed lids, I watch him— he kind of looks pissed. His white shirt crumpled with its sleeves rolled up to reveal his veiny arms. His pants are creased from the plane seat, looking in a rare state of disarray.

Sasha walks to a limo outside and I groggily trail behind him.

Its so cloudy, that everything looks dull and grey. I watch the world outside the window as we slowly move to wherever the hell these people intended on taking me.

       "Listen" Sasha snaps his fingers to capture my attention, "So this guy" he gestures to our bald kidnap-ee, "Is easy to find..."

he pauses,

"but?" I say, raising a brow

      "But" Sasha says and then blows out it one breath, "Hesgotloadsofprotectionanditwillbereallyhardtogetaholdofhimalone"

"Come again?"

is this idiot okay? mentally?

"I said.... he has a lot of protection"

So thats why he's pissed

         I slowly nod my head at that piece of information, letting my barely awake mind process it. "We can go to where he lives and assess the situation ourselves instead of relying on other peoples allegations"

He lights up and points a finger at me like ha.

"You know what.. we should do that"

       its hard not to smile at his enthusiasm.

       An hour later, both of us stand outside an apartment building.

The car parked not far behind, ready for a supposed quick getaway. The road is bare of human life, the cracked asphalt looking poetic in the glow of the golden hour. Funny, enough there are about a dozen cars parked up on the side of the road. The overgrown bushes that line the sidewalk are littered with beer cans that glint with foreign labels.

A rat skitters across the road.

I scratch my head,

      "So this is it?"

Sasha looks down at his phone, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure this is it" he lifts head, squinting at the looming structure. "Why does it look so dingey though?"

     I study it, thoughtful. "Maybe he's trying to blend in and not look so flashy in a mansion or something"

"Hm, makes sense"

The yellow paint slathered on the walls is peeling away and it has a revolting brown tinge to it, The windows are grimy and cracked adding on to the gross vibes emanating from this place.

      According to Sasha, this man lived on the 5th floor and there was no way of getting there except through 3 rounds of security.

You can even see the first set standing in front of the entrance desk.