A Voice in the Dark

Chapter III

TITLE: A Voice in the Dark

AUTHOR: Lexie aka lillianschild

FANDOM: Spooks/MI5

RATING: PG13/R (possibly in later chapters)

PAIRING: Lucas/OC

SUMMARY: Section D has a traitor in its midst and a mysterious man arrives with what appears to be the key to rid MI5 of the mole.

A/N: this fic is my own version of Series 7.

Disclaimer: all recognisable characters belong to BBC and Kudos Productions; I'm just playing with them for a little while without making a profit. No infringement's intended.

CHAPTER III

When she came round it was to find herself lying in what she assumed was a very comfortable sofa since, although her hands were tied and a blindfold prevented her from seeing her surroundings, the lack of movement and the ample leg room meant she wasn't in the back seat or the boot of a car.

Her jaw hurt and she was still a little dizzy after breathing in a moderate amount of chloroform. It was clear that whoever had seized her from her flat had wanted to make sure she wouldn't try to escape or loosen her blindfold and see enough to know where they were heading.

So far she didn't have an inkling of her whereabouts, only the nagging feeling that the Russians were somehow involved in her kidnapping, that or she'd been dreaming with the voice in the dark once again.

“Miss Reed?” asked a slightly accented velvety baritone she located immediately behind the sofa.

Her head was pulsing and that voice with its modulated deep tone didn't help clear her already confused thoughts. Politeness wasn't what she'd have ever expected from a kidnapper.

“I..” she began answering in a voice which sounded raspy and alien to her own ears. “I don't know what it is you want with me,” she added after swallowing to ease the dryness of her throat, “but this has to be some kind of mistake.”

“You're Annabelle Reed, are you not?” he stated matter-of-factly.

“As I told you before, you've got the wrong person,” she insisted, struggling against the pounding in her head and the barely disguised tremor in her voice.

“We aren't amateurs, Annabelle. We don't make mistakes. We've been waiting a long time for you to come back home.”

“We? Look, I don't know what you think I have that could interest you. I'm just a boring thirty-something with a nine-to-five job which doesn't pay that well. I don't understand what would make you hit and tie up somebody like me, unless you got a kick out of kidnapping defenceless women to have your way with them.”

“I apologise for any manhandling. You took my partner by surprise; he had orders to bring you here unharmed, but I wouldn't describe you as a regular damsel in distress. And I'm not a rapist or some twisted psychopath who enjoys hurting women. You're here only to talk.”

“There are more civilised ways to approach a woman for a conversation than having her kidnapped and restrained.”

“I just want to ask you some questions, Miss Reed,” he told her in a soft and pleasant tone which did odd things to her stomach.

She needed to take a painkiller; maybe then she'd be able to identify what it was about this man that tickled her consciousness. He had had her kidnapped and yet, there was no trace of threat in his voice. Annabelle didn't know what to make of that. If anything, it made her more jittery since that might mean he was unpredictable.