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CHAPTER 8 “I want to see Sydney,” Nigel demanded the minute he entered the sprawling Spanish villa and was directed to a large dining area, where Maxwell Mason sat at the table, waiting. He’d stewed in the car for almost forty-five minutes, his fear turning into anger that Sydney had been pulled into his mess. All he could think about was that time in the warehouse, where she had been tied to a chair, almost readily molested by one of Mason’s goons, and then a gun held to her head by Mason himself. By the time he arrived at the villa, he cared nothing for his own safely. “After our dinner,” Max decided, calmly. “Come along. Chef has spent all day preparing the food, we shouldn’t let it go to waste.” “I don’t give a damn about your cook or his food. I want to see Sydney. Now!” Max sighed and rose, dropping his silk napkin across his plate. “Very well,” he agreed as he buttoned his jacket. “If it will put your mind at ease. I don’t want you to get indigestion.” Nigel eyed Mason suspiciously. The crime lord had dropped his phony French accent and was speaking normally, as a raised Londoner. He now looked and sounded like Ross Bailey and it shook Nigel to the core. The man was also much more pleasant than at their last meeting, where he’d threatened to kill everyone. Still, he had to find Sydney, so Nigel followed him through the villa and down the stairs into a dark, damp cellar. Max unlocked a heavy iron door and ushered Nigel inside. “After you,” he offered. Nigel stepped inside and was appalled to find Sydney, seated on an old iron cot and shackled to the wall like a medieval prisoner. “Syd!” He rushed forward. “What have they done to you?” He couldn’t tell if the smudges on her face were bruises or dirt and her clothes and hair were in disarray. Sydney was so relieved to see that Nigel hadn’t been killed that she sagged with relief; the gangster was obviously mad as a hatter and just as ruthless. She’d woken up from the drug they had shot her with, and put up a good fight before they managed to get her chained. “Good to see you,” she said, offering him a small smile. Nigel examined her face and could see now that the dark marks were indeed bruises. “They’ve hurt you!” he hissed, angrily. “I’m okay,” she assured quickly. “I’ve had worse and you know me, I didn’t come quietly.” Nigel managed a smirk, despite his distress. “Yes, I know you.” He stared into her eyes, tried to convey how much he cared. “I’m so sorry about this, Syd.” His gaze rose to the shackles around her wrists and his eyes narrowed. He spun around and glared at Max. “Release her this instant!” “I can’t do that, son.” “I’m not your son.” “Of course you are,” Max dismissed. “However, I understand this is all new to you, so I’ll forgive your show of temperament.” “Forgive… “ Nigel sputtered, his hands coiled into fists. “I simply want to get to know you, Nigel,” Max continued, undeterred. “Catch up on the time we missed, father to son.” Nigel stared at Mason as if he had suddenly grown three heads. Was the man insane? How could he even think such a thing would be considered? Still, he did have his own questions and talking to the man face to face was better than theorizing on what he’d guessed so far. Surely there would be no real harm in just talking. “Let Sydney go and we’ll talk,” he agreed. “Nigel, no,” Sydney protested. She didn’t want Nigel anywhere near this manipulative psychopath. He was messed up enough without Mason trying to brainwash him with more lies or worse, more truth. Any further discovery might destroy Nigel’s already fragile balance. “He’s a nutcase. Don’t listen to him. You can’t trust someone who is holding you hostage.” “You are free to walk away at any time, Nigel,” Max insisted. “You are my guest, not my prisoner.” Nigel glanced back at Sydney. “And her?” Max shrugged. “Well, that is a different matter.” “I won’t leave without Sydney,” Nigel stated. “But you already know that.” Max nodded, solemnly. “Yes, your loyalty to her is quite commendable, if a tad foolish.” He shook his head. “You should never give a woman such hold over you, it isn’t productive.” “I won’t let you hurt her,” Nigel warned, surprising himself. He abhorred violence and hated confrontation even more, but he’d changed these last couple of weeks. Perhaps, he’d finally found his voice of courage, or perhaps he was simply fed up and wasn’t going to take anymore ‘changes’ to his life. “She isn’t part of this. Let her go.” Max shook his head again. “I can’t do that, son, for two reasons. One, she will run to the police, who I am trying to avoid most earnestly and two…” His eyes narrowed on Sydney. “She is part of you, Nigel. A very important part, it seems, and as I want to get to know all about you, she is included in that knowledge.” “I’m not going to tell you squat!” Sydney spat, furious. “You won’t have to.” Max met Nigel’s gaze again. “Well, Nigel, what’s it to be?” Nigel glanced back at Sydney. Her eyes told him to run, get away, but she had to know that he couldn’t do that. Her attitude was the same, fierce and uncompromising, but her condition was the opposite. She was shackled to a wall, battered, bruised and dirty. Helpless. He couldn’t walk away from her. It was his time to make a stand and protect her, for all the times she protected him. Max, taking Nigel’s silence for indecision, continued. “I will make you a compromise. You agree to stay and talk with me, let me get to know you, and in return your kindness will reflect on the professor’s state of affairs.” “What do you mean?” “What is that saying? You scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours.” Max opened his hands in a show of truce. “Professor Fox has to remain, as a security precaution, but I am making arrangements to leave this place very soon, and when I do you will both be free to go.” “Why wait?” Sydney asked. “We won’t mind if you want to leave early. Really, we hate long goodbyes.” Max ignored her and continued to address Nigel. “Till the end of the week,” he advised. “Four days, that’s all I am asking. After that I will release you both, no harm, no foul.” “As if we’d trust you!” Sydney scoffed. Max shot her a look of annoyance, and then returned his attention to Nigel. “What choice do you have?” He pulled out a revolver and aimed it at Sydney. “I can just kill her now and make you watch.” Nigel stepped between Sydney and the gun. “No!” He glanced back at Sydney who seemed startled by his brave move. She shook her head adamantly, when she saw the resolve in his eyes. “If…if I agree…” “Nigel, no!” “How do I know you won’t still hurt her?” he continued as if Sydney had not spoken. Max shrugged. “You don’t,” he replied. “However, as a show of good faith, whenever you give me something, I shall return the favour.” He put the gun away. “Ms. Fox’s stay can be much more comfortable, Nigel. She doesn’t have to spend it down here in the filth, with only the rats for company. I could put her in one of the rooms upstairs, with a real bed.” “Nice choice, down with the rats or up there with the snakes,” Sydney hissed. “I’ll stay here, thanks.” Max ignored her, again. “The room would have to be locked and she would be have to be guarded to prevent escape, of course, but she would be enviably more comfortable.” “But still a prisoner,” Nigel muttered. “I have to have a bargaining chip, Nigel, it’s how the game is played, but believe me when I say that I would have no trouble killing the good professor, if she attempted to escape, or if you tried to assist her in doing so.” Max smiled again. “I can be ruthless, but I can be equally generous. If it pleases you to stay, we can chat and enjoy each other’s company. In return, I will make Sydney’s stay here as enjoyable as I can.” He offered his hand. “What do you say? Do we have a deal?” Sydney remained silent this time, she already knew that Nigel had made up his mind and nothing she said could change it. It was strange, seeing this side of him, the side that didn’t always listen to her. Nigel ignored Max’s hand, but nodded in agreement. “I want her upstairs, where I can see her and she’s to have a bath and clean clothes.” Max smiled, pleased. “Certainly. I will see to it directly after lunch.” “Now. Release her.” “I don’t have the key for the…” “Bullox! What happened to your show of good faith?” Max’s eyes narrowed on the Englishman, for a fraction of a second, and then he chuckled. “You have spirit, good.” He nodded. “She’ll have to have an escort. I can hardly trust her to behave after the last time, now can I?” “Then go get your bloody escort!” Max shrugged and headed out. He knew Nigel wouldn’t leave without Sydney and she was chained to the wall, so there was no harm in leaving them alone for a few minutes. The minute the gangster disappeared, Nigel turned back to Sydney. “Are you sure you’re okay?” “Yeah, just pissed off.” She met his gaze. “Don’t trust him, Nigel. He’s a master manipulator and a liar and I don’t think he’s firing on all cylinders. Don’t let him suck you into his delusion.” “I’ll be okay, Syd,” he assured as he tried to examine the chaffing on her wrists. “We’ll have to get some antibiotic cream for those, so they don’t get infected.” Sydney didn’t care about her wrists. “Nigel, did you hear me?” He lowered his eyes to hers again. “I always hear you, Syd.” “But were you listening?” He avoided the question. “I’m sorry I pulled you into this mess.” “It wasn’t you,” she sighed. “You told me not to follow you and I didn’t listen.” “Do you ever?” She smirked. “I guess neither one of us is good at that, huh?” Only Nigel was good at listening, he always did what she told him to, and now he wasn’t. She felt both fear and pride at this new side of him. “Just be careful, okay?” Max returned before Nigel could reply, with three hulking Mexicans, armed with semi-automatic weapons. He walked over and unlocked Sydney’s shackles. “Finally, some room service,” she tossed as she rubbed her aching wrists. “You know, I should really complain to the manager…” Her words were interrupted as one of the men grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the door. “Hey! I didn’t order foreplay!” “You’re comments are becoming tiresome, Ms. Fox,” Max stated as he nodded to one of the goons, who immediately grabbed moved to stand beside Nigel. “But, I think you should reconsider your tact. If you try to escape, or cause any further hindrance on your way upstairs, Ricardo will beat Nigel, quite severely.” Sydney called his bluff. “That wouldn’t instil much fatherly affection, now would it?” “ It would pain me to do so, but I think his suffering would hurt you more.” Max’s gaze lingered on her, finally showing his anger. “You will find that I have very little patience for the woman who killed my son.” Nigel surged forward in protest. “She didn’t…” His breath was knocked out of him as Ricardo delivered a painful blow to the stomach. “Leave him alone!” Sydney growled, struggling against the two men that held her. “Your choice, Professor,” Max continued. “His injuries will heal, but will your guilt?” Nigel couldn’t even look up at Sydney, he was two busy kneeling on all fours, trying to catch his breath and not vomit at the same time. He wanted to tell her to get away, to run, but he couldn’t even breathe let alone talk. Sydney stopped resisting, Nigel looked like he was going to pass out. She was afraid Ricardo had broken one of the Englishman’s ribs with the blow. “I’ll be good,” she agreed, reluctantly. “Excellent!” Max nodded to the two men beside her. “You head on up and if you get there without any fuss, Nigel will be fine.” He indicated the small mike unit on his hip. “However, if there are any problems, my other people upstairs will be watching and will tell me of your behaviour and I will then leave Nigel here with Ricardo.” Sydney hesitated for only another second, before turning and allowing herself to be guided upstairs. Max immediately spun around and whipped the end of his revolver against Ricardo’s face. The man toppled backwards, startled. “I did not give the order!” he snarled. “Touch him again and you’ll be shot, understood?” Ricardo slowly rose to his feet and wiped at the blood oozing from his temple. He nodded, meekly. Max put his gun away and turned to Nigel, offering the Englishman a hand up. “I’m sorry about that, son, but you must understand my position. I can’t have your friend running to the police.” Nigel ignored the older man’s offer of help and struggled upright on his own. The only position he was considering right now for Max was one that was six feet under and covered in dirt “If anyone touches Sydney, or hurts her in anyway, I will kill you myself,” he warned. “That’s my position.” Max nodded, respectively. “Nothing happens without my order.” Nigel jabbed a finger towards Ricardo. “Does he know that?” “Ricardo was a little over zealous, it won’t happen again, because he will be killed if it does and he is aware of that.” He again reached to help Nigel, who was obviously still in pain, but the Englishman shook him off. “My men are well trained, Nigel. They won’t do anything I don’t authorize them to do.” Nigel forced himself to straighten up, unwilling to look weak in front of Mason. “Emptied the ape cage at the zoo, did you?” Max chuckled. “Now, now. You just don’t understand how things are done, my boy.” “I’m not your boy.” Max sighed. “Oh, but you are. You have that quick wit that runs in the Bailey family.” His eyes saddened for a moment. “You remind me so much of your brother.” Nigel was silent. He didn’t want to be compared to Ian or Max and he certainly didn’t want to be reminded that the two ruthless killers were part of his family. Max mistook Nigel’s sudden silence for doubt. “As long as you are open and forthcoming with me, your professor will be safe,” he assured and indicated the stairs. “Now, shall we finish our meal?” “What about Sydney?” “I’ll have something sent up to her after she’s been cleaned up.” Nigel froze on the steps. Been cleaned? He immediately remembered the lust on that bloke’s face back at the warehouse. “I don’t want anyone in the room with her,” he insisted. “You’re to leave her alone to clean up. I don’t…” “Yes, yes. I only meant after she was settled in her room. I promise, you give me what I want and Ms. Fox will have everything she could require.” “Except freedom.” “Let me explain this to you, one more time,” Max said, firmly. “If you continue to fight me on every little thing, she will be returned to the cellar, stripped naked and left alone with three of my biggest ‘apes’ to do what they wish.” He enjoyed Nigel’s sudden look of horror. “They have been on high alert since I was arrested and let me assure you that they would look forward to the distraction with a distasteful eagerness.” “You wouldn’t!” Nigel declared, unable to keep up his brave façade any longer. All bets were off when it came to Sydney. “Don’t press me, Nigel. It is an ugly side of war, but I will do what I must.” “We aren’t at war, for God’s sake! You...you can’t do that to her, you can’t…” “I won’t have to if you behave,” Max reminded as they entered the dining room and he settled at one end of the long table. “Now, let’s eat.” “I’m not hungry.” Max scowled and slowly placed his napkin in his lap. “You are testing my patience, Nigel,” he mused. “Very well. Ricardo, go and help Professor Fox with her bath…” “NO!” Nigel exclaimed, and then winced at the pressure it seemed to put on his injuries. “I…I’m not trying to be difficult, I just don’t feel like eating.” He lowered his eyes, and rubbed his stomach, embarrassed. “I…I feel I might vomit if I do.” Max seemed genuinely concerned. “Did he hurt you that much?” he demanded, glaring at Ricardo. “It was just a punch…” “I…I’m not very strong,” Nigel admitted, staring at the tablecloth. “Sydney does the fighting, most of the time.” Max regarded him quietly, and then slowly nodded. “I’ll bring my physician here…” “No, I…if I could just lay down for a bit?” Max nodded. “Certainly.” He nodded at Ricardo, who was now trying to keep on his boss’s good side. “Show him to his room and have Chef prepare a pot of tea. It will help settle his stomach.” Ricardo nodded. “Si, Señor Mason.” He looked at Nigel and waved his semi automatic weapon towards the doorway. “After you, sir.” Nigel declined the tea and waited, until Ricardo had closed the door of the bedroom, then bolted up from the bed he had made a show of easing himself onto. His stomach still hurt like hell, but he didn’t care about that. He had to get them out of this. He paused and put his ear to the door, then moved to the veranda. He had spotted the guard posted at the room where Sydney was staying, and kept his eye on where they were headed, so that he might be able to ascertain which window would be hers. He waited for the sentry walking the grounds below to pass, and then he climbed up on the railing and hoisted himself up onto the clay-tiled roof. He lay down upon it, unsure if there were any tower guards watching, and then crawled in the direction he thought Sydney’s room was. There was only a crescent moon out, but the lamps in the courtyard below offered him enough light to see by, while keeping the roof in shadows and thus hiding his form. He spotted the window that logically should lead to Sydney’s room, then tried to figure out how the hell he was going to get down to it. The walls of the villa were a mixture of concrete and sandstone, smooth with no protruding edges. There was no ledge or handholds offered for someone to climb into the higher windows. Sydney would figure out a way, he was sure of it, but she was much braver than he. He sighed and looked around for something to use, startled to spy a length of cable wrapped around a thick satellite dish in the centre of the roof. Eureka. He could use that, if it was long enough, and hope it wasn’t attached to anything that could electrocute him. He slid over, relieved and pleasantly surprised that he didn’t lose his usually precarious balance on the sloped tiles. He uncoiled the cable delighted to find it should be more than long enough and quite sturdy, as well, then returned to his position above the window. He could just see her trying to formulate a plan of escape, perhaps by using the sheets from her bed, but they would not be long enough to reach the bottom, they were almost three stories high. He didn’t want to think what would happen if he fell. He tossed the cable over the side of the roof, and then, after some deliberation and awkward positioning, he grabbed the cable and slowly lowered himself. Hand over hand, don’t look down, of course the minute you think or say that, you want to look down, and naturally, he did. “Oh, Christ!” he faced forward again and closed his eyes for a minute to dispel a wave of vertigo, then continued his descent. The window was to the bathroom and he could see Sydney inside, taking her bath. He saw no sign of a guard, so at least Mason had kept his word about that. He noticed that the window could only be unlocked from the outside, which explained why Mason had felt confident enough to give her a room upstairs. He lifted the latch, and then pushed the window open. Sydney spun around, splashing water on the floor. “Nigel!” she gasped and jumped out of the bath to help him. “Sydney!” He immediately closed his eyes against her nakedness. A minute later he felt her strong hands pulling him inside and as he landed with a thump on the floor. “Put something on, for God’s sake!” “Well, I wasn’t expecting…” She glanced towards the doorway at the sound of someone moving outside. “No time!” She stepped over him to pull the window closed, then climbed back into her bathwater and waved him forward. “Get in!” Nigel stared at her, aghast. Sure the tub was the size of a small Jacuzzi and was filled with bubbles, but still… “What?” His eyes darted to the door as the doorknob rattled. Shit! There was nowhere else to hide! He stepped into the tub, closed his eyes and submerged himself beneath the foam, just as the door opened. “Hey!” Sydney exclaimed, indignant. “Do you mind?” “I thought I heard something,” the Mexican growled, suspiciously. “Were you talking to someone?” “I was singing, I always sing in the bath, it relaxes me.” “Singing?” “I am trying to take a bath here, can you leave?” The man’s eyes narrowed on her, but finally he stepped out and closed the door. Nigel sputtered to the surface seconds later and accepted the towel that Sydney handed him. “You okay?” she whispered, trying her best not to smile, he looked like a drowned rat. “I’ve been better,” he coughed and wiped at his face. He started hitting the side of his head and shaking it. “Damned inner ear…” His gaze fell upon Sydney, who was only half covered by bubbles, because there wasn’t enough room for both of them to be completely submerged. He offered her the towel and she covered herself, discretely, for his benefit, certainly not hers. “Where the hell did you come from?” she asked, keeping her voice lowered. She’d looked at the window and, while she couldn’t open it, she couldn’t see any way of getting beyond it either, which also meant no way of escaping. “How the did you get in here?” “Persistence,” he replied wiping his wet hair out of his eyes, at least the bathwater was nice and warm. “I wanted to be sure you were okay and that…” He didn’t want to tell her of Mason’s threat of rape. “I wanted to be sure.” “I’m okay,” she assured. “It’s not a bad room, quite luxurious, actually. Big canopy bed, a closet full of frilly dresses, and a huge bathtub fit for two.” She grinned at his blush. “I could almost pretend I’m at a five star resort.” She smirked and checked that her hair was still pinned up and out of the water, before grabbing the soap and lathering one long, leg. “There’s just the one, teeny tiny hitch.” “Being held captive by a madman and unable to leave?” She lifted her leg higher out of the water to reach her thigh, smiling at Nigel’s attempt not to watch. “That would be it, yeah.” Nigel grabbed the soap from her and gently pushed her leg back under the water. “Could you do that later, please?” She bit down on her lip to keep from grinning. “Am I hogging the soap? I’ll share, but you’ll have to get undressed.” She was trying to cheer him up, take his mind off of everything, if just for a moment. “You’ll never get clean with all these clothes in the way.” “Sydney!” Nigel allowed her to fluster him and batted her hands away as she picked up his leg and started to remove his shoe. “This is hardly the time!” His good humour didn’t last long. “I can’t stay, Mason will probably send someone to check on me. Did you tell anyone you were coming here? Any chance someone would be looking for us?” “Cate. She called just after you left me this morning and said she was on her way here.” Nigel offered her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry about that, Syd. About leaving, about the lancet…” “About my car?” she asked, pointedly and watched him flush. “Seems I taught you a little too well?” “I’m really sorry.” She waved her hand at him and smiled to show there were no hard feelings. “Water under the bridge. I wasn’t considering what you were going through, I was being selfish.” “You weren’t…” “Look, forget it,” she insisted, firmly. “It’s done, we’re still friends.” She paused for a moment. “If you can get word to Cate, she has to be looking for us and she probably isn’t far.” “I’ll try,” he agreed. “Mason is watching me like a hawk.” He finally stood up and tried not to grimace at his sodden clothing. “Oh, this is lovely. I may have to burrow one of your dresses.” “There’s a blue one that would really bring out your eyes.” He glared at her and stepped out. “Save it for me,” he retorted and quickly tried to towel off most of the moisture, ringing his shirt out over the tub. “Do me a favour, Syd.” She sat forward, almost displacing the towel covering her. “Help you get out of those wet clothes?” He stumbled back, and then glared at her for teasing him. “Seriously,” he insisted. “Don’t do anything that might tick Mason off, at least not right now. I have no doubts that he’d kill you on the spot if you did.” Not to mention the other horrors that had been threatened. “I can’t just sit here, Nigel.” “I know it will be hard, but please. Trust me. I can turn this around on him, get him to trust me and get us both out of this. Please, Syd? I am asking you as a friend.” Sydney stared at him, then nodded. “I trust you, Nigel. I’ll be good for as long as I can be.” That was good enough for him and he walked back to the window. “I’ll see you soon.” Sydney grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself, before hurrying over to help. “Be careful, Nigel,” she requested as she watched him climb out and grab onto the cable. “You too,” he whispered before disappearing up the cable. He managed to get to the roof, without any further mishap, stored the cable back in its original position, then returned to his side of the villa. He just stepped off the patio and into his room when he spotted Max on the bed, one leg curled over the other, smoking a cigar. “Is it raining out?” he asked, amused. Nigel glanced down at his sodden appearance and tried to put on a brave face. “Spring showers,” he offered. “They happen a lot in Mexico, brought on by a sudden change in atmospheric pressure and…” Max waved a dismissive hand at him. “If you wanted to see Professor Fox you only had ask,” he stated, calmly. “I never said I would keep you from her, did I?” “I wanted to be sure she was all right,” Nigel said, hiding his fear at being caught. How had Mason known? “I didn’t think you’d allow it.” “Nonsense. As I said, I understand that she is an important part of you so naturally you will need to see her.” He rose. “However, I do not intend to share you with her for more than an hour a day. You may see her twice for thirty minutes, or once for an hour, that is all.” “That’s hardly…” Max raised his hand and cut off Nigel’s protest. “I will not allow you to be distracted from our getting to know one another. It is my only offer.” His expression grew serious. “And if you ever lie to me, or try a stunt like that, again I will shorten that time to ten minutes a day, and she will not be spending her nights alone, is that clear?” Nigel didn’t like it, but what could he do. “As crystal.” He paused. “How did you know?” Mason indicated one of the black covered ornaments, set up in all four corners of the room. “Every square inch of this villa is monitored, Nigel.” Nigel immediately thought of Sydney in the bathroom, of Mason’s goons watching her. He opened his mouth to protest. Mason held up his hand again, guessing the Englishman’s concern. “There is a camera in Professor Fox’s bathroom, but it is focused on the window and does not show the rest of the room. Your friend’s modesty is secure.” “It better be,” Nigel growled. “Get changed,” Max ordered moving towards the door. “You’ll find clothes to fit you in the wardrobe and…” He almost smiled. “If you are concerned for your own modesty, your attached bathroom does not have a camera. Ricardo will wait for you outside and will show you downstairs when you are ready.” Nigel waited, until the man left, then made a vulgar finger display to the hidden camera that had been pointed out. He stalked over to the large oak wardrobe and pulled open the doors. Sure enough, there were suits on hangers and stacks of folded clothing, all of them in dark colours. He fingered one of the hanging shirts, very expensive clothing from the feel of it. He reached for a pair of jeans and then paused, wondering if these had been Ian’s clothes. Would Mason be so bold as to dress him in a dead man’s clothes? He sighed; he had little choice. He had been ordered downstairs and his own clothes were ringing wet. He selected a pair of dark jeans and a black T-Shirt, then headed into the washroom to change.
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