Present day— London
Alex gasped for air when they finally pulled her head out from underneath the water. It stung deep in the back of her nose where the cold liquid forced its way into her lungs. Several times she coughed hard in an anguished attempt to expel the water from her lungs, but it didn't help much. Desperate to gain control, she calmed her mind. She knew it wouldn't take long before they shoved her head under the water again. With her mind racing against time, she fought to calm her breathing and restore oxygen to her lungs, all the while wriggling her wrists under the strain of the cable ties that had her hands restrained behind her back.
"Who are you?" She spoke in a strained voice.
"None of your concern. Now, do we make ourselves clear?" one of the men behind her answered.
Alex tried to agree, but her air pipe was still waterlogged, and instead, she coughed and turned her head sideways to loosen the grip they had on her hair. Something she instantly realized was a mistake when they misinterpreted her reaction as defiance. The force of the men's hands on the back of her head signaled for her to draw a quick deep breath a split second before they pushed her head under the water again. This time she decided to save her energy and not fight it. She shut her eyes tight and tried to remain calm. They weren't there to kill her, that much she knew. They could have easily done so already if they wanted to.
Her lungs hurt as they strained under the lack of oxygen she so sorely needed. She knew she was almost at capacity, and as if they read her mind, they pushed her head down even deeper under the water. Alex opened her eyes, instantly regretting when the water stung behind her eyeballs. They had added bath salt to aid the torture. It worked. She felt as if her lungs were going to explode. Liquid pushed in through her nostrils setting off the impulse to pull her head out of the water, only to again become aware of their forceful hands behind her head. Her body kicked into fight mode, and she pushed her knees down hard onto the floor. Her hips thrust forward into the side of the bath, and she forced her shoulders back against their strong hands. Her neck ached as she pushed her head back and sideways in a desperate attempt to get her mouth above the water level. The sudden defiance caught her attackers off guard, and one of the men's feet slipped on the wet floor, sending him flat onto the tiles behind her. The instant relief from her attacker's hand on the back of her head afforded her a brief chance to draw in a deep breath and push herself away from the bath. The floor was slippery beneath her tennis shoes, and with her hands tied behind her back, made it impossible for her to attempt an escape. The second man yanked back hard on her hair and dragged her sideways across her bathroom floor.
Still trying to recover from near drowning, she yelped a soft cry as her hair pulled at her scalp. She walked her feet backward in her attacker's direction, attempting to alleviate some of the tension on her scalp, but the man yanked harder and dragged her onto her knees to face him. She studied his shoes. Judging from his skillful torture method, she’d assumed he'd be wearing black combat boots but instead he wore polished tan leather shoes and taupe suit trousers. Confused, she tried to look up at his face, but he pushed her head down, forcing her to remain kneeling with her eyes facing the floor. She did as he demanded and suddenly became aware of someone else walking behind her. She was certain two men had held her down in the bath, and both of them stood in front and to her left. It was apparent there must be a third attacker in the room. She waited on her knees with her gaze downward, taking in every sight, sound, and smell.
"Who are you? What do you want?" She attempted again.
Her question went unanswered. Instead, Alex felt the sharp sting of her attacker's hand against her cheekbone. The thrust only pushed her slightly off balance but deciding to seize the moment, she amplified her fall and intentionally swung her body around. She caught a glimpse of a well-dressed man staring out the bathroom window with his back toward her.
Her dirty tactic angered her attacker, and he kicked at her lower back, slamming her face hard into the tiled floor. Blood ran from her nose. She pinched her eyes shut trying to absorb the pain while she tried sneaking a second look at the man by the window, but her attempt proved impossible from behind her tangled, wet hair that now formed a thick curtain around her head.
She listened closely when the man moved away from the window and leaned in. His raspy voice spoke close to her ear in a soft but urgent whisper.
"Stay out of our business or the next time we meet we'll kill you."
His words were barely cold when Alex felt a hard blow against the back of her head, and everything went black.
A faint beeping sound grew louder and louder as Alex regained consciousness. She forced her heavy eyelids open and took in the blurry vision of a room that didn’t look like the bathroom at her apartment anymore.
“Doctor, she’s waking up,” a female voice spoke next to her.
“Can you hear me?” a male voice added at her feet.
“Where am I?”
“You’re in the hospital. Can you remember your name?”
“Alex.”
“Good, and your last name?”
“Hunt.”
“What year is it?”
“2019.”
“How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Four.”
He leaned in and shone a bright flashlight into each of her eyes and mumbled something to the nurse who responded by holding out two pills and a blue plastic cup with a straw.
A moment later, two men in black coats stood at her feet.
“Miss Hunt, I’m Chief Inspector Shawn McDowell from Scotland Yard. We need to ask you some questions, please?”
The nurse propped a pillow behind her back, and Alex nodded.
“Can you tell us what happened?”
Alex stared at the bald, middle-aged man with the red beard and strong Irish accent. A younger wide-eyed more handsome man stood next to him, ready with his black notebook and pen.
“Ma’am, can you remember what happened?”
Alex paused, gathering her words before she continued in a croaky voice.
“I arrived home from the office, and they were already inside my apartment.”
She paused, searching through her blurry memory.
“Then what?”
“They grabbed me and tied my hands behind my back.”
Alex swallowed as the events became less vague. She recalled hearing them fill her bath.
“They dragged me off to my bathroom and shoved my head under the water in my bath. I tried to fight them off and the next thing I knew I woke up here.”
“Did you see how many there were?”
Alex nodded. “Three, I think.”
“Did you see their faces?”
She shook her head in reply.
“Is there anything you can remember about the attackers? Clothes, shoes, scars, accents.”
“They wore suits. Expensive suits. Couture and they had French accents.”
“Outstanding Miss Hunt, what did they say to you?”
“Nothing much. I asked them what they wanted, and one of them just told me to stay out of their business, or they’d kill me.”
“So they gave you a warning?”
“I guess so.”
“Do you have any idea what they might have meant when they said you needed to ‘stay out of their business’? What business might that be?”
“I have no idea, chief inspector. I’ve never met them before.”
“How would you know if you never saw their faces?”
“Because they had French accents. I don’t have any French-speaking clients.”
“And what exactly is your line of business?”
“I’m an independent antiquities recoverer.”
The inspector’s assistant lifted his head from his notebook and looked at his boss. Visibly as confused as his sidekick, the chief inspector cleared his throat.
“So you restore antiques?”
“Not quite, I get hired to recover and return looted or lost artifacts after determining their authenticity and origin. I used to be an archaeologist.”
“I see. Who hires you?”
“Governments, private museums, universities, private collectors, anyone really.”
“So let me get this straight Miss Hunt. You’re a relic hunter?”
Alex smiled. “No inspector. Treasure hunters find lost pirate treasures for personal financial gain. I recover historical artifacts that have gone missing or got stolen and return them to their original owners.”
“I see. So would it be safe to say these artifacts are of great value then? Financially that is.”
“Some of them, yes.”
“Are you working on recovering anything of significance at the moment that might have triggered this attack?”
Alex reached for her plastic cup of water while rehearsing her answer in her head. She knew full well that in her line of business, there was high risk. As much as she’d like to find her assailants, getting the police involved now would prove detrimental.
“Nothing important enough to warrant someone breaking into my house and torturing me, no,” she lied.
“They threatened to kill you, Miss Hunt. That sounds like a warning to me— a serious one at that.”
Alex dropped her head back against her pillow. Her head hurt where they’d hit her.
“Inspector McDowell, I think that’s enough for now. We’d be happy to make an appointment to come see you once she feels better, but for now, I think you’ve got enough to go on.”
Alex instantly opened her eyes and sat up when she heard Sam’s voice.
“And you are?” Inspector McDowell swung around to face Sam.
“Sam Quinn, Dr. Sam Quinn. Miss Hunt’s former colleague and fiancée. I’m the one who found her and called the police.”
“I see,” said the inspector tapping his fingernails on the bed railing. “All right then. Thank you for your time, Miss Hunt. If you remember anything else, please let me know,” the inspector added, handing her his business card before leaving the hospital room.
“Hey, how are you feeling? That was quite a knock to the head.” Sam leaned in and planted a kiss on her forehead.
“I’m fine, honestly. In fact, you can hand me my clothes so we can get out of here,” Alex replied, pulling back the hospital blanket.
“Uh-uh. Not so hasty, missy. You’re not going anywhere just yet.”
“I’m fine, Sam. It’s just a bump.”
“Not according to your file.”
Sam had taken her hospital file from the wall above her head. “Says here you have fluid in your lungs and a concussion; quite a serious one too. Get back to bed.”
“Yes, well, I feel fine. I can rest at home.”
“You and I both know that won’t happen.” Sam’s tone turned more serious. “They almost killed you, Alex.”
“If they wanted to kill me, they could have. They didn’t. Trust me. This will all blow over.”
Sam walked across to the door and closed it behind him.
“Okay, out with it. What’s really going on here?”
“What do you mean? Nothing is going on. I told the police the truth. And why exactly is Scotland Yard involved in this anyway?”
“Good question,” Sam answered, “the police found evidence beyond their jurisdiction. No idea what. They won’t tell me.”
Sam pulled Alex’s legs back onto the bed and under the covers before propping himself onto the bed next to her.
“I’ve known you long enough to know you’re hiding something, Alex. These guys meant business. If I hadn’t stopped by, you’d still be lying unconscious on your bathroom floor. I’m still not convinced it is wise for you to run this business on your own. It’s not safe.”
“Not this again, Sam. I thought we’d settled this.”
“That was before you got tortured and left for dead. I’d say that changes things. You should consider taking the ICCRU position, Alex. It’s safer.”
“What, and sit bored stiff behind a desk all day? No, thank you. I didn’t work this hard to play it safe. Besides, I only got blindsided because I had my mind occupied with the wedding. Once that’s over, I’ll be back to my old self. I still think we should just elope.”
“You’re avoiding the question. What are you working on, Alex?”
Sam was right. He knew her too well.
“I can’t tell you. It’s classified.”
“That’s a load of crock if ever I heard any. You work for yourself Alex. Last time I checked you didn’t have anyone else you needed to run anything by.”
“I can’t tell you, Sam. It’s for your own protection. You’re going to have to trust me.”
“So there is more to this than you’re letting on, isn’t there?”
Alex refrained from answering.
Knowing full well her stubborn nature would merely push her further away if he persisted, Sam moved over to the recliner in the corner and settled down into it.
“Well, I’ll wait it out. I’m not letting you out of my sight for a second, and just so you know, I have some torture tactics of my own. Don’t make me use them.”
Alex laughed. “So you’re staying here now?”
“Yep and when you get discharged, you’re staying at my place until they catch the guys.”
“Nice try, but we’re not yet married Sam Quinn.”
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