Midnight In Madrid

FORTY-NINE

GENEVA, SEPTEMBER 14, 5:32 A.M.

In the hour before dawn, Alex’s eyes flashed open. She lay very still in bed. Somewhere close to her there had been movement in her hotel suite. But where?

The room was very dark. Her eyes tried to adjust. She made no movement in bed but slid her gaze to the night table. The LED on the clock radio told part of the story, but only a small part.

It was half past five in the morning. Very few good things happen at half past five in the morning. She counted her heartbeats. They accelerated. She knew she was not alone in her bedroom.

But how? She knew she had thrown the chain on the door. How could anyone have entered? Whoever was there was still in the room with her. She let her eyes adjust more and she looked for the pistol that she had left near the clock radio.

That told her for sure that she was not alone. The weapon that she had carefully placed there was gone.

Oh Lord, Oh Lord, Oh Lord!

She felt herself start to sweat. Feigning restlessness, feigning sleep, she kept her eyes open just as slits and rolled over. She forcibly had to control her fear because in the darkness two figures loomed right at her bedside. They were both men. They were big. Their arms were at their sides and neither appeared to hold a weapon.

These men were professionals, otherwise they couldn’t have entered so furtively. They were between her and the door. That wasn’t an accident, either. Oh Lord, Oh Lord, Oh Lord! Her heart raced. Her sweat glands were in overdrive, her entire body was overheating. Her heart thundered. The only defense she had left now was to make the first move.

She bolted up in bed and swung her right hand at the closest man. But the two intruders made their moves at the same time. The nearest man threw out a powerful arm to stop her blow. She tried to force her way up from the bed, but even as she kicked, the second man grabbed her legs above the knees, forcing her back down.

His grip was powerful and overwhelming. She realized that both these men had stocking masks over their faces, and she knew that neither was Peter. Where was Peter now when she needed him again?

Then all of the weight of one of the men came onto the bed and onto her legs, pinning her.

She cursed violently in English. She fought back with elbows and two flailing hands, but the first assailant was adept at what he was there to do. He held down her right arm and forced her upper body down onto the mattress. Amidst grunts and curses, she felt something rip. It was her nightgown.

Then she smelled something that reminded her of ether or some medical sedative. Instantly, she knew what would follow.

She kicked and struggled, but her legs remained pinned. She fought with her left hand, striking incessantly at the head of the closest man. But she couldn’t manage an effective angle on him.

She couldn’t do any damage. Within seconds, he pushed a cloth to her face.

The cloth was warm and wet. It had the noxious medicinal scent that she already smelled. Her assailant forced her head back down. She felt as violated as she had ever felt in her life.

The chemical was powerful. It overwhelmed her immediately. The strength went out of her body, and the fight went out of her arms and legs.

Suddenly, the struggle didn’t matter, because it was over. Alex was drifting, losing consciousness, losing the ability to fight. Losing my life too? she wondered. Who are these people?

What are they going to do to me? Rape me? Kill me? Both?

She tried to move her head, to breathe fresher air, but the powerful hand of her assailant kept the cloth and the vapors against her face. She felt as if her whole body were spiraling down a tunnel. They were speaking a foreign language, but she was so far gone she couldn’t unravel it. She didn’t even know whether she knew it or not.

Then the whiteness faded. Her body eased its struggle and consciousness gave way to an abyss of blackness.