CHAPTER 4
In a familiar scene Sydney wakes up only to find herself in shackles in another one of those dingy store rooms. But this time she’s shackled to the wall rather than a non-reinforced aluminum chair. (Damn Sydney thought to herself.) As Sydney stood against the wall, she pretty much concluded that this was the most uncomfortable position she could be in. She felt like her body was pasted to the wall. There was no way to sit down or even bring her hands down to her sides. She felt like she was nailed to a cross. Her thoughts were quickly interrupted:
“We meet again Ms. Bristow.” (Oh great, it’s that cute British snob.)
“Go to h*ll!”
“There’s no need for such language and certainly there’s no need for that tone.” Mr. Sark said it as if he was deeply offended by Syd’s previous words.
“What am I doing here?!” Sydney demanded without patience.
“Use see, your mother asked me to look after you well she ran a little errand. It seems you aren’t exactly the cooperative one. That explains the shackles. But I don’t blame you.” Sark stood there staring at Sydney with an almost compassionate expression on his face.
Sydney said disgustedly, “I’d hardly call her my mother.”
“Well, if I remember correctly she is the one that gave birth to you. And given your present situation, I don’t believe it’s wise of you to say things like that.”
“I’ll say whatever the h*ll I want to say!”
It was amazing how Sark always seemed so calm. In the tensest situations Sark acted like he was lying on a raft in a deserted pool. Sydney was good at reading people it was what she was trained to do. But why couldn’t she read Sark?
“Suit yourself.” Sark said as he exited the room. Next to the door that Sark used to exit was a large mirror that Sydney believed was a two-way mirror. (Great they’re watching my every move. (How am I ever going to get out of this one?)
Hours passed and the only thing Syd could think of was how much pain she was in. For one thing, the whole being chained to wall wasn’t the most pleasant feeling, but man did her head hurt. If only she could bring her hand up to her head to feel how big the bump was.
The creaky door, to the small room where Sydney was being held, opened. Sydney could see two armed guards just beyond the doorway, but they weren’t the ones that entered. Irina Derevko was the one who entered the room.
“Sorry about the shackles, but last time I tried to make you a little bit more comfortable and it backfired on me.” Irina said it in a caring way. But this time Sydney wasn’t going to be the fool. She wasn’t going to fall for another one of Irina’s “mother” charades. Sydney wanted to tell her mother that she didn’t want her pity, but she so desperately wanted to be able to sit down. “If your good maybe we can figure something out.” (Oh thank goodness.) Irina walked toward Sydney and very caringly tucked Syd’s hair behind her ear. It was a gesture that only a loving mother would make, or a two faced liar. Sydney wanted to spit in Irina’s face, but she quickly decided that it would only make things worse. After Irina carefully looked over Sydney with her eyes, Sydney saw that Irina, her mother, had a glimmer of proudness in her eyes. It made Syd sick to her stomach. Just when Sydney thought she couldn’t take it anymore, Irina turned around and left the room.