Chapter Ten of the Story

Her shoulder throbbed painfully. Groaning, Elliot opened her eyes, and surveyed her surroundings.
She was lying on the floor in a small room with concrete walls and no windows. There was a single door that had a window whose glass had been punched out. It looked as if it had once been a janitor’s closet.
Elliot slowly sat up. She was sore from sleeping on the concrete floor. Wincing, she rolled up her shirt to check her side. To her surprise, it was bandaged. Why on earth did they fix me up? Aren’t they just going to kill me? Why keep me alive?
She noticed her colorful wig had gone missing. She dug her hands into her many pockets and discovered all her gadgets had vanished. Even the things that weren’t gadgets, such as her watch, had disappeared as well.
Groaning, Elliot carefully lay back down. Her hair was a mess, she was dressed in weird clothes, and was still covered in the outlandish makeup. I’m trapped in a cell, at the mercy of a gang of smugglers, and I’m upset about my appearance? I’m not cut out for this sort of job.
Signing, she lifted her right arm and eyed the charm bracelet Jerin had given her. She was pleased they had left it. It wasn’t like it was some kind of gadget, but it was nice to have something to comfort her. Suddenly, she frowned. She could have sworn a red light had flashed on the charm in the shape of half of a heart. For several minutes, she watched to see if it would do it again, but obtained no results. She must have imagined it.
At the sound of sliding metal and clicking locks, Elliot turned her head. The door opened and a woman strode in. She was thin, dressed in a sleeveless shirt, knee-length shirt, and high heels. Her curly blonde hair fell past her narrow shoulders in over her ice blue eyes. Elliot thought she was very pretty and wondered if she was some high-up’s girlfriend. The woman strode across the tiny room to where Elliot lay and knelt down.
“Are you all right?”
Elliot was very surprised at her concern. “Um, yes, thanks,” she replied, sitting up. “In truth, though, I don’t know why I’m still alive.”
“Oh.” The woman blushed slightly. “Mr. Vang will have to tell you that. How’s your wound? The bullet went straight through, and there was little damage—“
“Hang on,” Elliot interrupted her. “You fixed me up?” The woman nodded. “Are you a doctor, then?”
She smiled and shook her head. “No, I’m a nurse—or I was a nurse. My name is Lisa Clearwater, by the way. What’s yours?”
“Um, well, I guess it doesn’t matter now. I’m Elliot.”
“Ah.” Lisa Clearwater smiled. “Was that your boyfriend, or something? The man that was a spy?”
Elliot shook her head. “Nah, we’re colleagues, that’s all.” Something told her it was unwise to tell this woman—however nice she may seem—she was very close friends with Jerin. They could use it against them both.
“Oh. Mr. Vang said you two were together, and that’s why you were so eager to let him know he wasn’t safe.”
She shook her head again. “No. Wouldn’t you try to stop some one from dying if it was in your power, even if you didn’t know them personally?”
Lisa thought for a moment. “Well, I guess that’s what I used to do when I was a nurse.”
They were both quiet for a minute. Once the silence got uncomfortable, Elliot said, “So are you the one who ran off with my gadgets?”
Lisa smiled. “Yes, well, I went through your pockets and everything while Zann watched for possible gadgets.”
“The watch wasn’t a gadget, by the way. Who’s Zann?”
“Zann Kolzak. Surely you’ve heard of him—being a spy and all.”
“He’s a spy or I’m a spy?”
Lisa’s eyebrows rose. “You really don’t know who he is?” Elliot shook her head. “He’s only the world’s most dangerous assassin. I can’t believe you’ve never heard of him.”
Elliot shrugged. Best not let the woman know the full extent of her uninformed mind. “Well, you know those assassins are sneaky little buggers. Hard to keep track of them all.”
Lisa and Elliot laughed.
“Glad to know you have such a high opinion of us.”
Both women started and turned. A man with red hair and green eyes leaned calmly on the door frame.
“Zann!” Lisa Clearwater jumped to her feet. She glance guiltily at him like a five year old caught with a hand in the cookie jar.
“Fraternizing with prisoners and leaving cell doors open?” He tilted an eyebrow. “She could have run out.”
Elliot hardly doubted that she could have gotten far, but he had a fair point. She was slightly worried he was going to shoot Lisa for her carelessness. To her relief, he made no move for the gun at his hip.
Lisa blushed. “I-I, Mr. Vang told me to check on her wound.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
He pivoted on his toe. Glancing over his shoulder he said, “Well, do so, then.” He stood with his back to them, completely blocking the door.
Elliot couldn’t help being impressed by the fact he was giving her a bit of privacy. She rolled up her shirt, and Lisa unwound the strips of gauze. Elliot turned her head. She didn’t particularly want to see the spot the bullet had torn through her flesh. After several minutes, she felt Lisa wrapping the cloth back around her torso.
“Done,” Lisa chirped happily. “It’s healing nicely.”
Zann turned. “Good. Now, come with me.”
As Elliot stepped forward, he lightly placed his hand on her shoulder. She chuckled slightly and smiled up at him. “I don’t think I’m going anywhere.”
He smiled lopsidedly back. “How would I know if you were telling the truth? You could just be pretending to be weak.”
“You don’t have to go to med school to know people who get shot don’t go anywhere fast. Or haven’t you noticed in all your life as an assassin?”
He turned his head to face forward and began marching her down the hall. “People I shoot don’t usually get up and go anywhere, but I didn’t shoot you, now did I?”
Elliot coughed slightly. Right. Time to change the subject. “Are you Russian by any chance?”
“Yes.”
“What part?”
He glanced at her but didn’t answer.
“What? I’m just trying to carry on a friendly conversation.”
Zann chuckled. “You are new at this, yes?”
“Well, this is my first time being shot and kidnapped, if that’s what you mean. They don’t exactly have a class in college titled ‘Getting Kidnapped 101,’ now do they?”
He smiled. “You are a lot like Jerin.”
She tiled her head and eyed him silently. He seemed to be a bit of an enigma. How could a man be a killer and like this at the same time? She could really figure out how to describe him. Gentlemanly? Chivalrous? Nice? Those words and assassin didn’t seem to go together.
They turned down a second corridor and strode to the door at the end. Zann reached out and pushed it open, making sure to keep the other hand firmly on Elliot’s shoulder.
“Ah, if it isn’t our little spy.”

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< long torrent of nothingness > *
Gasp! Elliot's alive!! Pssssssh. Not like I'd kill off the main character in the first few chapters.
This is usually the part where I say something interesting about some aspect of the story. So, let me think.... hmmmmmmmmmm. I've got one. This story started from a prompt from my creative writing class that is finishing in the next week. The prompt was: "Pretend you're looking in a laundry mat window and see a woman matching socks. Make up a story about her." And you're thinking, "WHAT?!? How the chocolate did she get a spy story from that?!?" Elementary, my dear Watson. I thought, "Hmm, suppose she giving somebody information through the socks. Does that mean she's good or bad? Is she a spy? Maybe she's listening to somebody else? Yeah, but what person in their right mind meets at a laundry mat? Those things have a great big window, for chocolate's sakes. Maybe, it's a fast food restaurant? Yeah, let's go with that, because most bad people would pick a McDonald's over a laundry mat any day. Oh, yes! I am a genius! Now, what is she listening for? Are they selling drugs? No, to cliche. Oh! Somebody's gotten caught spying on them, yeah! What's my spy's name, now?"
And Elliot was born. I actually wrote The REAL Chapter Seven of the Story before anything else. I threw it at a friend to read just to see what she thought. She told me to write more or she'd strangle me. I picked writing over strangulation.
Oh, and if you noticed the many links, that's me playing with my coding skills. Ain't I clever?

< / long torrent of nothingness > *

*Coding joke. If you get this, you are amazing.