An uncontrollable shudder ran through her, and the man chuckled again. He was thriving on her fear.
She had to control it.
Bernie. She’d think of him as Bernie. No one named Bernie could be terrifying.
She had to give Sam time to find her.
He and Joe would be on it. No matter what had happened, they would be searching for her.
If she gave them enough time, they’d find her.
She had to stay alive until then.
At least Bernie hadn’t shown his face. If she didn’t see him, he wouldn’t think she could identify him. He might let her go.
Doubtful, but possible.
This time, the knife jabbed deep into her muscle and twisted. The whimper escaped before she could stop it.
“Miss Cheveyo, you are reputed to be an intelligent woman. I would have expected you to be quicker to respond.”
Sadistic bastard.
“You haven’t told me what you wanted.” Her voice sounded weak to her own ears. She’d have to do better.
This time, something slammed into her shin, and she yelped again. Had he broken a bone?
“My colleague here can keep this up all day. I was told you have a new technique that would be quite useful for people hiding. I want it.”
“But…”
She didn’t get the word out when the knife stabbed in again. This time, it went deep and dragged down her calf muscle.
“Now, my colleague is going to release your wrists. If you attempt to retaliate, he will render your foot useless. I don’t require you to have feet in order to give me the data I wish to have.”
Tansy’s breath sawed in and out in harsh gasps.
This guy was a James Bond villain in real life. Fake veneer and full of evil.
Bernie was probably wearing a tuxedo beyond the bright light.
Tansy’s arms sagged when the ties were cut. She waited until the thug was done before she pulled her hands forward and rubbed the wrists where the ties had dug deep enough to cut.
Again, she channelled Sam’s voice to manage the pain. Their martial arts training sessions had always been about controlling her stress and enjoying the moves. Now they were going to help her cope.
And help her find a way out of the mess.
A squeak had Tansy flinching, but the noise was simply a preamble to a small desk being rolled in front of her. A laptop sat open. The beefy hand belonging to the thug turned it on and he disappeared.
While she waited for the computer to boot up, she catalogued what she knew of the thug.
Thick, muscular arms and legs. Old dark-blue jeans. Worn work boots. Light skin, dark curling hair on forearms and the back of his hands. Scar along the back of his right hand from ring finger to thumb. Tattoo on left inner wrist. A circle with three intersecting triangles. A gang symbol?
When the computer screen cleared, there were only two icons. A word document program and a spreadsheet.
No internet connection and no online programs.
If she was left alone, she’d be able to access the programming and maybe alert someone, but she doubted Bernie was going to be that stupid.