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broken English through rotten brown teeth. Saliva strung along them, dripping and stringing out of his mouth with each word. She tried to turn away so as not to toss her cookies all over him, and forced herself to breathe through her mouth to avoid the gingivitis shit smell of his breath. His grip tightened, bruising the tender flesh of her cheeks. Still, she remained silent. He didn’t bother asking again. Instead, he kicked her chair over, making her fall frontwards onto the dirt ground. Her knees took most of the jar, but when he shoved his foot against her bound wrists and made her tip over farther to face plant, she felt her nose split and the irony taste of blood flood her mouth. That was about the last straw. The ropes that tied her ankles to the chair slid off the ends easily from her current position, and she rolled, unhooking the rope while flipping to her feet in a total ‘Charlie’s Angels’ fashion. When the ogre charged her , she spun, using the chair as leverage to sling her legs up just as he dove down, wrapping her legs around his neck in her signature move . Once secured , she threw her body si deways, twisting her legs tight. He fought for air, momentarily stunned and rendered at her mercy. Despite the pounding against her legs from his fis ts , she squeezed on while she still worked the ropes on her wrists with the small knife she kept tucked under the wrist band of her top. She got them free just as one of the others came rushing to his aid. Vice swung the small blade just in time, dragging the sharp edge across his cheek. It filleted open like a gutted fish while he screamed like a little bitch. Finally the fucker went slack between her legs and she kicked off, sliding across the room to flip over the back of the chair and land on her feet…face to face with the barrel of an AK47. Fuck. This was a waiting game, and time wasn’t on her side.
    She was dragged to a tub of water that s a t over in the corner. Its murky color and stagnant smell made it hard to tell if it had been used as a toilet, or if this was the reason they didn’t bathe but once every six months. Either way, chances were she would get an up close and personal look if she didn’t act now. Spinning around in their grip, Vice raised her foot just in time to make contact with one of her attacker’s groin, crumbling him to the ground. It didn’t take long for more to flood in, making the odds stack up against her. She fought back viciously, using every tactic she could to break free. There were a couple times she almost had the upper hand, but somehow more assho les always seemed to appear in place of the ones she disabled. She fought until five or more got ahold of her and held her motionless. Fuck. It seems my SEALs training is about to be tested. Lord, help me through this. Vice focused her mind, preparing for what was about to happen. She slowed her heartbeat and steadied her breathing, taking in deep, full breaths. Even while they yelled and wrenched her arms and head around painfully, she remained calm.
    The first dunk under the water seemed to last forever. Panic threatened to take over when her lungs began to burn, desperate for oxygen. It took all of her willpower to keep from fighting, but she succeeded. Her body went lax, carried by the thoughts of everyone back home who counted on her and her survival through this exact moment. She had three kids who would be heartbroke n if Aunt Vice died. Putting Skyler, Heather , and Lizzy through any more trauma was un ac ceptable. Just as she felt consciousness slipping through her fingers, they pulled her out of the r a u nchy water. “Who sent you!” t he one holding her by the hair yelled in broken English.
    “Fuck you.” He must have studied up on American insults, because her face slammed back down into the tub of muck. This time, he proceeded to dunk her over and over, not giving her a chance to catch a breath between each shove. Little by little she wa s able to suck in