Tucker woke up in a panic. His mind was a jumbled aching mess and he had no idea where he was.
He didn't dare move and just laid there for what seemed like an eternity. Even though his eyes were still closed, he felt like he was spinning.
As his head throbbed and his heart raced, he tried piecing his fragmented memory back together.
'I followed that jeep like I was supposed to. I went inside and found Mr. Addison. He was with a bunch of people. I sat at the bar and waited. I had a few drinks. The creepy guy called me and I went out to meet him. I tried to back out. He sent me half the money and threatened me. Then I, I...'
That was all he could straighten out before another wave of dizziness hit. Tucker figured he must have screwed up something and just left it at that for now.
Eventually, he would remember anyway. He had never been a forgetful drunk. Whether he wanted to or not, he'd recall everything at some point.
For now it could wait as he was preoccupied with his particularly brutal hangover.
He took a few deep breaths and focused in on the quiet, willing the the discomfort to pass.
When it lessened a bit, Tucker slowly opened his eyes and let his gaze wander the dimly lit room. From the generic looking furniture, he determined that he was probably in a hotel.
'But why am I here?' If anything, failure or not, it would have made more sense for him to be locked away in a dark and cold holding cell.
Instead, he found himself laying comfortably on a soft bed.
Having decided he was safe for now, he tried moving around a bit. At the smallest effort, his body ached in protest. It felt like he had been slammed against a wall.
'I know I'm getting older but this... Did I fall down a flight of stairs?' He wondered as he let out a soft groan.
Tucker gathered the little strength he had and tried to sit up. He quickly ran into a small problem.
'Stuck?' He tried to pull his right arm down from over his head and found that it wouldn't budge. He pulled again and felt some kind of plastic strip digging into his wrist.
'Great.' Tucker brought his other wrist closer to his face and squinted. Sure enough, there was a faint red band where another restraint had been.
After some twisting and turning and forcing back a few bouts of nausea, he finally managed to get himself upright.
He leaned back against the headboard for a moment to catch his breath and let another round of dizziness pass. When he could see straight, he started to work at the thick plastic cable tie.
Forcing himself to concentrate only made his condition worse. Plus, he didn't see any change in the plastic. All he had managed to do was to further irritate the skin around his wrist.
He sighed, leaned back against the headboard again, and took a second look around the room. He hoped to find something in his reach that he could use to get free.
Now that his eyes had better adjusted to the low lighting, he could pick out more details from his surroundings. The bedside table instantly drew his attention.
The lamp that should have been on the table, was on the floor. The table itself had been pushed so it was just out of reach. And on top of the table, he could make out the dark outline of something small.
He stared at the object, wondering what it could be, when it suddenly emitted a faint red flash of light. The light only lasted for a split second and he thought he had imagined it, when there was another flash.
"Hello?" On a whim, he whispered towards the object and waited. Getting no answer, he tried again.
"Hello?" He asked a little louder and waited again. Still nothing.
Suddenly, he was hit by the most intense wave of dizziness that he had experienced yet.
"Whatever. Not worth it. I'm going back to sleep." He grumbled under his breath.
Maybe this was all just a nightmare. Maybe he could sleep it away and wake up back at home with his wife.
He slowly shimmied his body back down to lay on the bed. He shifted around until he was comfortable before kicking his shoes off and pulling the blanket over on top of himself.
Now that he had tucked himself in, his thoughts went into overdrive. His past few months replayed in his head for the millionth time.
It had been the most torturous time of his life, his own personal hell. A hell created in part by Addison Enterprises.