Captured By The Mercenaries

Definitely Russian. Even I knew what that word was. Although it was accented, so maybe a dialect of Russian. There was no time to diagnose it now. Who was he to be telling me no when he’d just taken me away from my team? In fact, who was he to begin with? He wasn’t wearing a formal military uniform, but his clothes and armor were definitely military grade.

I was crunched up against his chest, and although the man was a giant I didn’t plan on making this—whatever this was—easy for him. Slamming my head backward, I felt a crunch. I didn’t know if it was his nose or my skull. My already aching head flared with a bright, white hot light of pain.

Wrong move.

I swore, struggled in his grasp, and tried to fight off the waves of nausea and blackness that were threatening to pull me under.

The sound of his voice seemed like it was coming from far away. Two new voices joined it.

Can’t pass out.That would be a death sentence.

Silvery eyes came into view as a second man ducked down to look into my face. He surveyed me as my eyes rolled around in my head, then he barked something at the man behind me.

I couldn’t hold the darkness at bay any longer.