GLOW

Prolougue

"I beg your pardon?" The security guard trembled as the men moved closer, crowding him into his desk. It was just him against, what he would probably describe as, three of the most atypical looking people anywhere. Suits, ties, glasses. If he didn't know better, he would think they were regular business men.

Unfortunately, he knew better.

"Where is she? We're looking for a girl, you know who were talking about," one of the men growled at him, getting closer by the second. His eyes widening, the guards eyes flickered from side to side, mind desperately thinking over the thousands of faces, legal and illegal, young and old, that had passed him at the security checkpoint today. No one, however, was sticking out in his memory.

"I- I don't know who you're talking about....please..." as he begged for his life, the man knew how cliché he sounded. But, as he reasoned in that moment of panic, it was a classic for a reason right? Someone had to be on their way, now that the alarm had been set off. The three ex-business men grabbed at him, pulling him into a chair that had been dragged to the far, darker corners of the room. In a moment of panic, he attempted to fight them off, kicking at their faces, scratching at whatever he could reach. Laughing, they easily wrangled him into the chair, efficiently tying his arms and legs to he was no longer mobile.

"Please," he attempted again to reason with the men, "I don't know who you're talking about! I see thousands of faces a day – I work as security at the airport! I really don't know who-" the end of his sentence was cut off abruptly as he was punched, hard, across the face. Blood dribbled from his nose as he turned his quickly watering eyes to his captors. He watched, breathes becoming more and more erratic as he took in what they had set up next to him – knives, and pliers, and chains. Torture items. The tallest man advanced slowly, as though stalking prey.

"You're going to tell us everything you know," the hard truth fell from his lips and the man whimpered. There was no way out of this situation, and there was no way he could remember who they wanted him to. In short, he knew he was doomed.

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Brown hair. Brown eyes. Tanned, but not too much.

Pretty, but not enough for a second glance. Smart, insanely so. Different, but more of a wallflower than you could imagine.

There was no easy way to describe Anya, and everyone knew it. Even herself. She stood out and she blended in. Anya Steemkamp was a study in contradictions. As the girl walked the hallways of her new school, she glanced around at her peers.

What would they do if they knew who I really was? The thought passed through her mind daily, and there was no way to stop it. The short and long of it was that Anya wasn't like anyone else, but she was such a wallflower that nobody would ever know the real her. And for that, she was glad.

She could move unnoticed for the first time in the school for the stars, where most of the class bought their grades and the rest tried to get the 'smarties' to do it for them. Well, they tried at least. Most of the smarties were able to keep out of the spotlight, so with their heads down we kept up our grades and laboured to keep our scholarships, to keep our place out of the spotlight.

But really, how much can you do when you were made to stand out?

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The girl sat shock still in her chair, hands resting palm-down in her thighs as she gazed resolutely ahead. Across from her, Detective Inspector Steve Banne eyed her in his peripheral vision as he wrote down notes and finished his coffee. His quick eye noted her mismatched clothes, some too small, some far too large for her lithe frame. What he didn't notice is how she too was seizing him up. In the time it took him to assess her estimated age and what happened, she had already noticed too much. The way he was sweating in the light of the secure room, how he was left handed, but was favouring his right, anything that would allow her to survive for just one second longer. In the silence, the man eventually cracked first.

"So you mean to tell me, Miss....." here he trailed off, expecting her to give him a name. At the unexpected silence, he shook his head and began talking again. "You mean to tell me that you are escaping the Chinese mafia?"

"Not mafia, but rather Guówáng de hēishèhuì," the first words she had spoken since she came in and demanded an interview with a Private Investigator floated softly to where Banne sat "and what you are saying is partially correct, yes." Shifting in his seat, Banne grimaced at what she was implying. This was not a laughing matter anymore, but rather one of not only national security, but that of this seemingly innocent girl. Who was, apparently, caught up in some drama with the Guówáng de hēishèhuì, possible the most feared Chinese mafia gang throughout the world.

"So what was I saying that was not correct?" he questioned, and she finally let her calculating gaze rest on his face, the blank stare boring into him. A soft sigh left her lips, and she slowly shook her head.

"I will not say anything until I can be guaranteed by safety, a new life and have some clothes that fit me. In return, I will tell you all I know about the Guówáng de hēishèhuì," she requested, hardening her stare as Banne returned it unwaveringly. He slowly lifted himself from his chair and left the room. A full hour later, new clothes were brought to the girl, and soon after that, food. After this, she was left alone for several hours until Banne re-entered.

"I have what you want. Come with me," he said simply, and she quickly followed him from the room. Her hands were held behind her back, and her head was down. The perfect picture of submissive behaviour. Once they reached a new sound-proofed room, he gestured for her to take a seat. She slowly sat down, head still lowered, eyes never leaving the floor. Banne watched her, assessing her behaviour. He'd seen people act like this before, but only once, a long time ago. Ironically, when he was in China for a job. For a case, he corrected himself mentally.

"You can look up. And talk," he muttered, and she hesitantly looked up at him. Sighing as he scrubbed a hand over his face, he lowered himself into the chair across from her.

"Ok, tell me everything."