Legacy of the Watchers Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Nancy Madore

  Immediately upon opening her eyes Nadia was accosted by the dreaded blue stare. She looked out the window and saw that it was completely dark outside. How long had she slept?

  She reluctantly turned back to Blue Eyes. Afraid to speak, she tentatively raised her bound hands to get his attention, but froze halfway through the gesture when she saw him flinch. Had she imagined it? She didn’t think so. He suddenly seemed more alert too, eyeing her even more warily than before. Nadia stared at him, momentarily stunned by the odd reaction, but eventually necessity overcame everything else and she pointed in the direction of the lavatory.

  He seemed to relax the tiniest bit, but he sighed heavily, clearly put out by her request. He signaled the men behind her and she heard them unbuckle their seat belts and stand up. The two stood guard from behind while Blue Eyes approached her and unfastened the chain connecting her to her seat. He drew back quickly and motioned for her to get up. She rose, wondering bleakly at their cautiousness. If they were this careful in midair, what chance would she have when they landed?

  When she reached the tiny bathroom, Blue Eyes still didn’t back off. He stood resolutely in the doorway facing her. Nadia forced herself to meet his gaze head on, aggravated by the unshakable resolve she saw there. His dark, slightly enlarged pupils seemed to punctuate the futility of him giving in. She gave him a pleading look, pointing to the door meaningfully with her hands.

  “No,” he said firmly.

  She stared at him for a long moment before turning her head away in disgust. She looked miserably around the tiny bathroom as if it might provide an answer. What now? Would she not be allowed even this small privacy? Anger welled up in her. She met the awful stare again, infuriated by the lack of feeling there. She glared at him, pointing to the door again.

  “No,” he repeated just as firmly as before. There wasn’t the slightest hint of an apology in his tone either, and this galled Nadia even more. She just stood there for a long moment, debating what to do, while he watched her, as callous as ever.

  Nadia was furious, and bitterly regretted asking him for the tiny courtesy. She should have acted as if she didn’t care, as if his being there didn’t matter. The pleading made it all the more humiliating. Silently fuming, she slipped down her pants, doing her best to hide her body from his view as she managed her affairs. She looked away from him throughout her ordeal, focusing all her thoughts on revenge. It was only a matter of time before he and his accomplices were caught, she assured herself. They always got caught in the end, didn’t they? She imagined herself testifying against him in court. She would happily meet that icy gaze then—perhaps he would look at her pleadingly, just as she had looked at him. But on second thought, this seemed unlikely. She felt pretty sure that Blue Eyes would never plead for anything.

  It didn’t matter. Nadia would keep her cool and bide her time. What did she care if he got his jollies off by watching women urinate? Like all criminals, he would slip up and when he did, she would be ready. She would gladly let him win this battle if it would help her win the war. She finished her business with a flush and stood up, careful to slide her clothing back in place in one quick, smooth movement as she rose. When she was ready to return to her seat she couldn’t resist meeting his eyes with such a look of pure hatred that it appeared for once she actually got the better of him. He backed away from her abruptly, nearly colliding with the wall behind him. Nadia brushed past him and—with some effort considering the chains that were attached to her ankles—stomped back to her seat. She sat down, trembling with rage and indignation. But as Blue Eyes strapped her back into her seat, reality hit and her little feeling of triumph waned. She felt overwhelmingly impotent. How was she going to get out of this? Hannibal Lector had not been guarded as vigilantly as her.

  The flight seemed to last forever. Despite her exhaustion Nadia couldn’t sleep. Nor could she resist periodic glances at her tormentor. In the dimmed cabin, his blue eyes glowed almost fiendishly from the mask.

  It may well have been the longest night of Nadia’s life. She struggled not to fidget in her seat. Every muscle ached. She passed the time by imagining various scenarios where she would be saved and avenged. Sometimes she was rescued by an outside party such as her father, or even Joe, and other times—her favorites—she would outwit the kidnappers herself, escaping to freedom and eventually bringing them to justice. These thoughts buoyed her spirits. She called to mind the many triumphs in her relatively short career and felt perfectly justified in asserting that she was clever and resourceful enough to come out of this alive. She was trained in many kinds of survival. She only had to stay calm and wait for the right moment to act. She must be brave and alert. From what she’d seen of her captors so far, she knew she wouldn’t get many opportunities.

  The waiting was tortuous, but hope kept growing with every hour that passed, infusing Nadia with confidence as she endured the long ordeal. And too, she was becoming more convinced that if they’d intended to kill her they surely would have done so by now, saving themselves all the travel-time and expense.

  Eventually she perceived that the plane was, at last, descending. She opened her eyes and turned toward the window, surprised by how bright it was outside. It looked like midday, but surely they had not traveled that many hours! And then Nadia realized that, of course, there would have been a time change. She calculated which direction would have taken her so far into the next day and concluded that they must have traveled east.

  When at last the plane touched down Nadia sighed with relief, even as a new apprehension filled her. What would happen now? Surely some light would be shed on the reason for her abduction. All the silent wondering was becoming intolerable.

  The plane came to a stop, although Nadia noticed that the engines were left running. Blue Eyes turned to speak to the pilot and Nadia took this opportunity to examine him more closely. All of her senses suddenly seemed heightened as she strained to hear what he was saying. The exchange was brief and to the point. The two men behind her unbuckled their seat belts. She was finally going to get off the plane, but suddenly her limbs felt as if they’d been filled with lead. Everything in the foreground seemed to fade as she struggled to make sense of what she heard. Or thought she heard. It was possible that she heard wrong. It was only a few words, after all, not enough to bring about such a reaction. But the words kept repeating themselves over and over again in her head, like a drum pounding out a warning to a distant ally.

  “…attack.”

  “…execute…tonight.”

  “…the body.”

  Chapter 4

  Nadia was still reeling from what she heard when Blue Eyes, cautious as ever, unfastened her bonds and pulled her out of her seat. Her legs felt like rubber, and it suddenly seemed as if all the blood had been drained from her body. He looked at her in surprise—though still wary—as she faltered and very nearly fell down. Somehow she managed to walk, stumbling along in the direction the three men were leading.

  Attack. Execute. The body. The words seemed to reverberate through her, pulsing through her arteries with each rapid beat of her heart. She was sure they were the words she heard. Yet her mind continued to argue the point. Why would they bring her all this way just to kill her? It didn’t make sense.

  When she stepped outside she was momentarily startled out of her reverie. A wave of hot air, almost like that of an oven, rushed over her and the sun, which was unusually bright, seemed to be coming at her from all directions. She shuddered violently. She looked around in utter defeat, surrounded on all sides by sand. She was in a desert, most likely in the Middle East. An image popped into Nadia’s head of Blue Eyes, sitting at a round table on an episode of the Ten Thousand Dollar Pyramid, coolly rattling off hints to the word on the screen, pausing meaningfully between each hint for effect. Attack. Execute. The body—until his partner jumped up triumphantly to shout, “terrorism!” This image, strange as it was, seemed to bring a horrific clarity to the event. Suddenly everything made sense. Te
rrorists were exactly the sort of people who would go to this much trouble to kill someone. A high profile execution of this kind would draw attention to their cause. But what was their cause, and why had they chosen her? Nadia supposed it must have something to do with that group of extremists out of Pakistan that she had inadvertently taken contributions from, after all.

  The private jet was slowly turning around so that it could go back down the strip the way it came. A weathered white jeep was the only other object in sight. Nadia’s captors half dragged, half led her to it and Blue Eyes urged her into the back seat. He seemed to take extra pains attaching her chain to the underside of her seat before getting in next to her. The other two climbed in front. They continued to wear the masks, which seemed even more ominous somehow, in the bright, midday sun. There was nothing but sand and rock as far as Nadia could see, and she shivered again, in spite of the heat.

  The terror was returning and seemed to make Nadia more alert. She realized that she hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since lunch the previous day. The driver—the black man—was softly humming under his breath. Nadia recognized the tune, but couldn’t identify it. It was before her time; a ‘golden oldie.’ It seemed an odd choice, given the circumstances.

  Execute. Blue Eyes had said the word as coolly as someone else—someone who wasn’t a cold blooded killer—might have discussed the weather. And humming a cheery tune! It was a walk in the park for them. There was no hesitation. No compassion. They had made up their minds.

  She would have to escape. But how? The way they were guarding her she would have to be superhuman to break through the chains and overpower them. And even if she managed this, how was she supposed to get out of here?

  Seeing only sand in every direction was making her feel worse. Occasionally the car turned onto a different road, but the view never changed. Nadia wondered how they managed to find their way around this desert maze. There were very few road signs and those were in Arabic, confirming her original guess that she was in the Middle East.

  Why hadn’t she screamed in the restroom? Was that to be her only opportunity?

  Suddenly they were there. The building seemed to appear out of nowhere; an old, dusty, sand-colored cottage that was practically camouflaged by the sand-colored surroundings. Nadia scanned the area, numb with fear. One more chance, she silently prayed, give me just one more chance to escape. Off in the distance she saw something shimmering in the brilliant sunlight, and stared at it, squinting, as the driver pulled the jeep up close to the cottage and shut off the engine.

  Blue Eyes unfastened the chain. “Out,” he said, giving Nadia a nudge. His voice never wavered from the hard, commanding tone. She got out and allowed herself to be led into the building. Her back, where she’d leaned against the car seat, was already wet with sweat.

  The decor inside the cottage left Nadia feeling even more disoriented. The furniture was a hodgepodge of relics from the fifties; the faded, mismatched colors and frivolous styles seemed satirical. The main room featured a washed-out orange couch, a blue metal coffee table, a chipped wooden cabinet and a variety of different chairs. These items were scattered about over an enormous brown, shag rug in the middle of the floor. There was an air conditioner rumbling loudly in one of the windows and, glancing at it, Nadia once again noticed the peculiar shimmering outside, off in the distance. It seemed to be glowing, pulsing and alive, almost—she winced at the thought—like a space ship.

  “Why did you bring me here?” she blurted out, unable to keep silent any longer. Her voice sounded strangled. “I demand to know. You…you have the wrong person.” Her voice rose in desperation with that last declaration.

  The men didn’t even respond. Two of them watched her through their masks while Blue Eyes dragged her into a room in the back. First thing he did was fetter her to another, longer chain that was fastened to a steel ring in the floor. The room was completely dark, except for a single, dim night light on the wall. The only window was boarded up. As her eyes began to adjust to the dark she saw that the room was empty except for a bed. There was a small, door-less entryway into another room.

  “That’s the bathroom,” said Blue Eyes. “But if you try anything we’ll see you.” Nadia looked up then and saw a tiny, blinking red light indicating the presence of a video camera.

  “Why did you bring me here?” Nadia asked again, her voice rising to a scream this time. Blue Eyes turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. “Tell me!” she screamed.

  Nadia rushed to the window, which was boarded up from the inside. She doubted the boards could be removed, but she pulled at them as hard as she could. They were securely fixed, just as she knew they would be. Next she examined the chain that bound her, and saw that it was much too sturdy to break. She could vaguely hear their voices in the other room, and figured they were probably watching her on some kind of video screen. Perhaps they were musing over how calmly she was taking her predicament. But then she heard movements—scraping and rustling sounds, like furniture being dragged over the floor. They seemed to be preparing for something. Fresh adrenaline rushed through her.

  The chain was secured to a heavy bolt in the floor. Nadia examined the bolt and then the chain itself, becoming more dismayed with every observation. If you try anything we’ll see, he’d said. What did he expect her to try? She went over to the bed and sat down. Her stomach was making noises from a combination of hunger and nerves, both of which were leaving her weak. If you try anything we’ll see. Was he referring to her killing herself? To accomplish even that seemed impossible with her limited resources. And why should he care? Execute. Perhaps a suicide would interfere with their plans. She shuddered.

  Nadia had the urge to scream until they answered her questions but instinctively she knew it would do no good. She sighed. She might as well save her energy.

  Others had been here before her, she suddenly realized. The bolt in the floor was not new. She got up and looked at it again. How many people had awaited their fate in this room?

  All of a sudden she noticed something else on the floor. Someone had carved a message into the wood. Nadia bent down to get a closer look. There was actually a multitude of carvings of varying styles and shades, suggesting several different ‘someones’ over an extended period of time. Yet the carvings were similar, clearly belonging to one specific form of communication that was completely foreign to Nadia. This seemed to confirm her earlier notion that the kidnappers had abducted the wrong person. Though she couldn’t identify the strange markings, they reminded her of symbols she’d seen used in ancient hieroglyphs, such as those found in the Egyptian tombs. Nadia stared at the symbols uncomprehendingly, feeling a creeping sense of déjà vu, along with an irrefutable certainty that whatever message they conveyed was decidedly sinister. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

  These thoughts were cut short by the sharp click of a lock, followed by the opening of her door. Nadia stood up, unable to see more than the dark outline of the man coming toward her. She watched his approach with dread. When he got close enough—within a few feet of her—she recognized the blue orbs glowing demonically from behind the mask. She stared into them as if hypnotized, yet somehow, without actually seeing it, she perceived that he was carrying a syringe in one of his hands. Whatever they were going to do to her was about to begin now.

  Something inside Nadia snapped. In one quick, fluid movement she threw up her hands, which she had formed into one large fist, and struck him in the Adam’s apple, dislocating his mask in the process. His hands flew up in a defensive gesture but Nadia reacted even quicker, clamping her teeth down on the fleshy part of one of his palms as hard as she could. He let out a yell, but managed to hit her so hard in the face with his other hand that she saw stars. The blow had the intended effect of disengaging her bite, but it did nothing to deter her resolve. She once again made a fist of her two hands and punched him in the groin with all the force she could muster. He yelled again and this time seemed genui
nely incapacitated as he doubled over in pain. Nadia knew all of a man’s weak spots from her self-defense classes, but she had never actually tested them before. She was a little surprised by how well they worked. When she shifted Blue Eye’s mask in that first blow she had inadvertently blinded him, and she now took full advantage of this, striking him again and again, going for his throat, his shins, his groin, and any other part of him she felt might be vulnerable. She moved so quickly that each blow was immediately followed by another. She was mildly aware that the other two men would be coming to help their friend any moment, but the adrenaline was flooding through her, drowning out her better sense. Probably she would not escape, but neither would she sit back and let them kill her without a fight.

  But even without his friends, Blue Eyes was gaining on her. He was stronger and clearly more experienced, and no amount of adrenaline or self-defense classes could have made her a match for him. She’d managed to take him by surprise but he was quickly recovering. Once he gained a foothold—which he did instantly upon shrugging off his mask and grasping her bound hands in his—he easily laid her out on the floor by simply sweeping his foot under her legs, sending her sprawling onto her backside with a hard thud. But even this didn’t stop Nadia. She continued to fight like a woman possessed, although now it seemed not to bother him. He let her flail about as he held her down, watching her with a mixture of mild surprise and curiosity. Nadia knew it was over, but she kept on fighting anyway, stubbornly trying to free her hands from his grip. He patiently endured her struggles while he caught his breath. Then quite suddenly, he flipped her onto her stomach and put a knee in her back, effectively halting any further insurgence.