Night Moves & The Disregard Of Timekeeping
Eva sat in the lonely chair and tried to review her options, which truly, were few. Her head was becoming clearer, but she was utterly exhausted. She had not had a thing to eat or drink in at least several hours, and sleep had come only in fits and starts.
“What the hell time is it anyhow?” Eva said quietly to herself. She tried to piece it together, but everything had become such a blur, especially after the introduction of drugs into this twisted little play. The sky outside gave little indication, as it was still dark and the sky had turned cloudy. It was making her headache worse trying to figure it out, and ultimately, right now, it didn’t matter anyhow. She was still in one hell of a predicament whether it was midnight or noon.
Eva also came to the subtle realization that for all intents, her mission was blown. Vasilev had either been tipped off from inside somehow, which seemed unlikely, or his intelligence network actually was as impressive as he claimed. Considering his trade, and the fact that he had stayed alive this long, she decided it was the latter.
The gig was clearly up, so Eva’s only option at his point was to formulate a Plan B. She would talk to Vasilv, buy herself some time, and when the opportunity presented itself, kill the son-of-a-bitch who murdered her father.
With a sigh of slight resignation, Eva slid forward on the chair and slowly started to push herself up. She could feel her arms quaking slightly as she pressed on the cushion, using the seat to stabilize herself.
She stood up uneasily and started to make her way slowly towards the door. A sensation of vertigo was washing over her and she struggled to remain upright. “One foot in front of the other, Eva. Baby steps,” she whispered to herself. No sooner had she whispered her words of self-encouragement, she felt her legs go limp and she crumpled to the floor in a heap.
She sat on the floor silently and took in a deep breath. As frustrated as she was, she was relieved that no one had seen her. Until she remembered that she was likely on camera. More than likely, she had just given one of Vasilev’s hired goons a good chuckle.
The thought of the camera watching gave her the passing thought that if she rolled around sexily on the floor, this could be one hell of a Chanel photo shoot. She imagined herself in a long, flowing Bob Mackie gown, giving her most seductive pout, and for the first time in forever, she actually laughed for a brief moment.
As her quiet laughter faded, Eva set her mind to the task of pulling herself up off the floor. She took in a deep breath, blinked her eyes repeatedly, and with what felt like a monumental effort, stood back up and slowly walked to the door.
After what felt like hours, Eva finally made it to the door. She gave a hard knock, and before Kovlev could even acknowledge, she made her intention known.
“Tell him we can talk. And tell him not to forget the goddamn water.”
The Beginning At Last 
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