The Namesake 1 (of 5)

Note to readers. Don't read if you don't like poor grammar, this is rough.
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright… are you kidding?

Edited by Amanda Lynn.

I had a security company in Kaliningrad in Russia. Unlike other bosses, I was always with my men on the field. That had put me in a trusting and close relationship with my men. Though my name was Innokenty they called me Kiesha, that's a short form of my name. Only family and close friends used it usually.

This time we were guarding negotiations of two big companies. As usually in such cases there were parties that wanted to interrupt the talks. This meant we had to prevent any stakeout. We also had to find any secret recording bugs. And besides this, we were protecting against any possible intrusion and attack.

I was in a tract of usual routine checkup of the territory when I suddenly blacked out. That was a powerful thing those abductors had poisoned me with. I woke up slowly. The room I was closed in was dark, but not completely dark. As I looked around the first thing that caught my attention was my body. It was like a pre-teen girl. I couldn’t get to know too much because my hands were tied with plastic zip-locks.

I was curious. The hallucinogen they used indicated a professional, powerful group. But the way they’d tied me proved they were amateurs. My hands were tied in front of me with a single tie. It was torn less than a minute later and my wrists weren’t bleeding as it could happen with hands tied behind my back. I will have a bruise on my right thigh. But if this was the price of the freedom, let it be so.

The next step was to tear the duct tape from my face. Tearing it abruptly would be a mistake so I tore it carefully and slowly.

It was time to inspect myself and inspect the room.

As I said I was a girl. I looked like one. I had a sleeveless shirt and powder blue short shorts. I checked bellow. There was nothing. My chest was flat. I was short, a little more than four feet, which was a significant drop from my previous six-three.

There was a twin bed, a desk with two drawers and a chest with another six drawers. There was a closet too. In the closet, I found a couple of wooden hangers and no clothes. The drawers of the chest all were empty. Desk’s drawers had some office thingies in the back of them. I found a plastic ruler, three packs of post-it stickers, and a point-ball pen. And, voila, there was an office cutter with an almost new blade.

The only window had no crates and it wasn’t locked and had a shutter that wasn’t locked too. I opened the window and then cracked the shutter open. It revealed I was on the second floor. The backyard had a lawn mowed more than a week ago and it was surrounded by the white picket fence. The fence wasn’t for protection rather a decoration. I didn’t see any wires on the fence or any CCTV. But they could be on the wall of the house. Behind the fence, there was a field and then a forest. I recognized pines and firs.

There were sounds as if they were coming from under the ground as if someone was shouting. I couldn’t recognize them. Some words were barked kind as commands or requests. They were in some language I still couldn’t recognize.

I tried the door and it wasn’t locked. Were those captors so stupid or it was kind of a trap. I cracked the door open and the hallway was dark. Let's say almost dark as there was some light from the room I was exiting. There was a stair leading down and there were another two doors. I examined the doors first. The first was to the bathroom. There was nothing I could take with me. The second door was to the room that looked like the one I had been in. There was a woman in her thirties or something. She had her hands zipped and tape on her face the same as I was. Her legs were tied with tape too. There was blood on her face like she had been beaten. She was unconscious. I’ll come back to her later.

I left her tied as I’d found her. It could be the poison was working the way that I saw one of my men like this young woman. She could be a skilled professional indeed. But she could be also a regular young woman. I didn’t want to feel her breath on my back and hear her gasping and screaming when a silent job had to be done. And the job was to kill. It’s just so. Not blinded abduction victims usually end in the morgue. The woman and I were not blinded. The only chance to get out of here alive was to kill the kidnappers or arrest them. The later was rather impossible with me being a kid.

As silently as I could manage I descended the stairway to the first floor. There was another stairway down to the basement with the door. The first floor was arranged in a new fashion – there were almost no walls. A dining room with a kitchen was one spacious room. It was empty. There were no people I mean. There was a TV and there was some movie on it and it was in English. “Highly educated thugs,” I thought to myself. The TV was blaring but it wasn’t too loud to muffle the voices coming from the basement.

The entrance door was closed and locked. The key was in the lock. I decided to check the backdoor first. It was left ajar. Moving around that crack I noticed the man sitting on the edge of the porch. He was smoking. The man was big. He was too big for my new self to interact with him directly. I went back to the kitchen. In the knife block, there were some knives and one was sticking out – the fillet knife, long, sharp, and light. What I needed exactly. With it, in my hand, I very carefully opened the door and crept behind the man. I was seeing myself as a girl and most probably I was as weak as one. I had to use all my force to do what my old self did effortlessly. It had to be one move. I had no right and no chance for a second try. I aimed it with my right hand below the rib line and pointed the knife up toward the heart. The man gasped and fell forward on the ground.

I jumped down and checked his pockets. Nothing. He probably had something stuck under his waistline. He was too big for new weak me to turn him over on his back. I pull the knife out and cleaned it with his shirt. I quickly rounded the house. This one I’d killed was the only one outside. There were no visible CCTVs on the walls

I went back to the kitchen. There were some other knives but they were useless as they were too big for me. I wanted to take a paring knife but there was no place I could keep it. There were pockets on the back of my shorts but they were not deep enough.

Meanwhile, I heard some movement below and another door in the basement opened. The sounds were almost clear. Then it dawned on me suddenly that the language was English.

Why someone speaking English would need to capture me or my men? The companies we were guarding were Russian. They were big but they were not international. They had no partners or competitors outside Russia.

If someone was about to ascend from the basement I had to kill him instantly. Otherwise, all hell will break loose. Another man for sure will not wait for me to stab him from the back. My target was his throat. But I was too short. I looked around hastily. There was a double footstep like one used to reach the top of the shelf. It was plastic and I put it at the wall where the door of the stairway to the basement was. I stepped on it and waited.

I heard a man saying aloud, “Bring that kid here.” After the pause, the same voice added, “Take Brian with you too. He likes young cherries.” There was some snickering and some moans.

The footsteps were approaching. The door opened and the figure emerged. It was a woman. I hesitated less than a second. I was taken aback by the fact it was a female. Her hands were covered in blood. I used the office cutter. She was gurgling and faltering. I had to use all my force not to let her fall back and block the stair.

She had the gun, Zastava P25 “Black Lady”. It’s good pistol, light and efficient.

The basement stairway’s upper door was open now and I listened to the sounds from the basement. I could identify one man barking questions or commands. I still couldn’t identify what he was asking. There had to be others too but they remained silent. How many others were there? I didn't know.

I moved down to the basement. There was a kind of hallway and two doors. Behind one door I heard someone talking and some thumping. I tried another door and it was unlocked. Behind the door were some shelves and washing machine. I went back to the hallway and was listening to the sounds in another room.

I waited till that someone was moving away from me. I ripped the door open and made three shots into the back of the head of that someone. He slumped down dead. Another man was tied to the chair. His face, chest and his clothes were soaked in blood.

I looked around and the man on the chair and the one I’d killed were the only two in the room. The man on the chair raised his eyes and gasped as he recognized me. I could sense the terror in his gaze as he looked first at me and then at the still-smoking pistol in my hand.

“Kiesha… You… You killed him?” he stammered.

I shrugged. What could I say? It’s my duty. He’d called me Kiesha and I thought he was one of my men. It went unnoticed he asked in English and I answered him in English too.

“Sorry, I don’t recognize you, bud…”

His eyes widened in horror. “I… I am your daddy… Kiesha…” he stuttered and fainted.

He didn’t look like one of my men. The man was tall and slim and something pudgy at the same time. He was tied to the chair with duct tape. I cut it off and he slumped to the ground. I placed him on his side and wedged the captor’s shoes behind his back. The fainted person may start vomiting, choke, and die if they are on their back.

Then I went upstairs to the woman I’d left there. She was still unconscious. I cut zips and duct tape off her. Then stripped the pillow from its pillowcase and soaked the cloth with water in the bathroom. I used it to clothe wash the woman’s face, chest, and hands. It helped. She started to stir. I washed the blood off the cloth and came back into the room.

The woman was awake. “Kiesha?” she whispered with what looked like a faint smile.

“Who else?” I replied. “And you are my mommy then?” I asked with some irony in my voice.

It had to be a really powerful thing that hallucinogen I was poisoned with. I felt like I was this girl – something emotional at his moment. I was about to break in tears but managed to keep myself tight.

“I’ll go downstairs to help daddy,” I told her pointing my index finger down.

She stood up. She staggered but managed to keep her balanced. I handed her already wet cloth. I went back to the room where I was before and took a pillowcase from there too. We both descended to the first floor. She was still unsteady but with my help, she managed to go downstairs and not fall.

We turned to the right to go downstairs to the basement. There was the woman on the floor with her throat slit. Her empty eyes were starring up and she was lying in the puddle of blood.

Mom gasped. She turned to the left, fell on her knees, and vomited. I helped her to clean herself afterward. Again she was trying not to look at the dead body when we approached the stairs to the basement. In the room where dad was left she almost fainted again when she saw another dead man and what was done to dad. I left her sitting at the table. I clothe washed dad’s face, his hands, and his chest. He was a mess with numerous bruises over his face. There were no cuts and no burns. Those captors were amateurs definitely no matter what they wanted.

“Are you ok or you need some rest still?” I asked mom.

“Huh?” Not the most intelligent answer but it’s better than nothing.

“I hope dad will wake up shortly,” I started to explain my point of view. “We need to get out of here. I’m too short to help him to come upstairs.”

“Yeah…” she said.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I need to help dad to get upstairs,” she replied. I thought she was ok but she started to sob. We’re getting nowhere this way. I took her shoulders in my hands and shook her as strong as I could manage.

“WHAT?” she snapped as if she was awake suddenly.

“Don’t let emotions overwhelm you,” I commanded. “We need to get out of here. Do you understand?”

“Yes. We need to get out of here,” she confirmed.

“You help daddy and I'll go look for the car.”

“You look for the car and I help daddy.”

I’d almost said “Good girl,” but managed to keep it to myself. I ran upstairs and out of the house. There was the car under the maple tree. Someone thought it was a good idea to keep it out of direct sunlight and heat. The car was one of those American enormous SUVs. It wasn’t new with some rust there and here but I wasn’t about to buy it so why to bother. I checked it and the keys were missing. It had to be the real antique thing to be operable without the immobilizer in the key. This one wasn’t SO old. I needed keys.

I ran back into the house and down to the basement. I found the key in the pocket of the man I had shot. Back upstairs and to the car. I put the key into ignition and turned. Thank God it worked. Downside – I was so short I had to stand on the floor and lean with my back over the edge of the driver’s seat to reach pedals and hold on the steering wheel. I parked at the porch so as not to drive over the stabbed man. I had the car with an open passenger door at the edge of the porch to help dad climb into the car.

I ran downstairs to the basement and dad was already up. Mom was helping him toward the stairs. I was following immediately behind. Then I thought that if they fell they will crush me. They didn’t. The first step was successful. When we reached the first-floor dad repeated what mom did before. We both cleaned dad after he’d puked and helped him to the backdoor and then into the car passenger’s seat. There was enough space for all three of us in the front.

“Do you know where to go?” I asked after I started the car.

“I know,” mom said, “I’ll drive.”

We exchanged places and then she said, “I can’t. It’s manual. I’ve never driven such before.”

We exchanged places again.

“You’ll say where to turn. Ok?” I offered. She agreed with “U-huh.”

At the gate, there was a sign “For sale.” The way was simple, no crossings and no sideways. It was a dirt road. Then we came to the asphalt road. There was another sign “For sale”. We could turn left or right.

“Right,” mom said.

I turned right. Then we came to the main road and there was a “Stop” sign.

“Right again,” she said.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“To the camp.”

I wanted to ask more but then I thought that anyway I didn’t know anything here. As the road was the better one there were some signs but I was unable to catch what was on them. The car was new to me. My body was new too. My main and the only worry at the moment was how to keep the car going.

The road ended at a big parking lot. There were a few buses and some regular cars. There were three ambulances, and then police cruisers. And there were a couple of black minivans like in the movies. Yeah, like in the movies. There were people with firearms equipped like kind of Special Forces.

I started to panic. I had no ID. I was sure other people were not affected by that hallucinogen. They will see my real self. I had no right to be here.

“Stop at ambulances,” mom said. I drove nearer and there were some doctors or paramedics. I didn’t know what they’re called in this country. My task was to hand over dad and mom to the medics. Well… and find a way to return to my country and my old self.

When mom and dad were secured on the gurneys in ambulances some medics approached me. I didn’t want them to talk to me. Everyone will recognize my accent and what then… Maybe I still had a chance to run away? I turned around and there were police officers starring at me.