Mr. Robinson was getting ready to attack her but she beat him to it. In a split second, she was on her feet and headed towards the door. She held the handle and stopped by the door, her back facing them.
They knew at once what to do. Everyone put on their masks back. A minute passed and Vanessa finally opened the door. As the door shut back on its own, the soft whisperings of the people at the table flew to her ears.
It doesn't matter, Vanessa thought. I will fix this tonight.
Trevor stood alert as soon as he saw her step out. He led the way and she followed. As she took the lingering path back to the room where the hostage was being kept, her eyes began to twitch wildly.
Vanessa tried hard to blink it away, but it was of no use. At that moment, she would have given anything to know what tonight held for her. She had no idea.
****
Death.
It was perhaps the most revered thing in the world and the most feared by humans. It was the most misunderstood phenomenon in the world.
Everyone knows it awaits them but no one knows when it will come. Only very few are blessed with the privilege of choosing how and when they depart from this world and even then, it is never an easy task.
It is like a bitter pill that one must swallow to get well except that no one gets well after deciding when to die.
This was Azalea's fate tonight. He had realized in a terrible way that Vanessa had been right all along about everything she'd said. He was losing his sanity with every drop of the water on his face and help was not going to come, not today, not tomorrow, not ever.
As he lay with his back on the cold floor and the cold dripping water mocking his every attempt to move, he reflected on the worthlessness of his life compared to the bigger game that the master was about to play. He had no choice. He was the master's sacrifice. There was no greater honor than that.
Just three weeks ago, he had been a mere clerk in one of the government's offices until the master singled him out for this noble task.
The master knew him more than anybody else. Not only did he know his name and where he came from, but he knew also of the other things he'd done, his secret life at night, secrets which if revealed could destroy his life.
He had no life now anymore. His life was now the master's. He had become a follower of the master by just that one meeting.
The master had spoken of such wonderful things that he had in store for him once the job was completed and his mind had been so mesmerized by the master's amazing ideas and rewards that he had thrown all moral judgment away from his heart and had decided to partake on the deadly venture.
Now, thinking about it, he felt foolish. Foolish to have even believed that he could carry out such a heinous crime and get away with it. But it wasn't all that bad. He was the master's fool.
Once again, his eyes scanned through the four walls of the room searching desperately for anything at all that could serve as an advantage for him. And for the umpteenth time, he realized that there was nothing. He was trapped in here.
He was finding it increasingly difficult to focus his mind on finding a way of escape. With the cold water constantly dripping on his bare skin, his brain was fighting the pain and anxiety that was settling in. Again, Vanessa had been right about her prediction.
Then suddenly, like a fresh breath of fresh air after a hot day, his brain was illuminated. An idea hit him, one that changed everything.
Azalea was thinking of a trick he had learnt during his training in combat. It had been such a long time since then and now, it seemed like a lifetime ago. But he figured it was worth the shot. It was either that or he continued to await Vanessa's return.
One thing was sure. She would torture him until she got the truth from him. That, he was not prepared to risk.
Slowly, he tried once again to lift his body. The sides would not budge but that was not the part he was targeting. With his chest lifted higher, the pressure on his hands which were tied together behind decreased. That was the idea.
With another push, he continued to lift his body, ignoring the pain in his joints because of the unusual movement. With every lift, he felt his idea materializing before him.
It was time to put in all his energy. Azalea held his breath for a moment. He shut his eyes and sucked in all the air he could. He was going to remain that way for a long time.
Then, finally, he began to wriggle his hand slowly, gently. The ropes resisted his movements at first. But he persisted, knowing that the resistance was not going to be for long.
Vanessa may have been the smartest woman alive but she had made a grave mistake, a mistake he was now going to use to his advantage.
The rope his hands were tied with was made of rubber and not of a stronger material. With the right movements and application of pressure, he would slip out of the rope soon.
Azalea continued to turn his hands, spraining his muscles in the process. It was a good thing his hands were not too large. When he was younger, his mother always said he had a surgeon's hands. He had never considered that a good thing, until now.
Luck smiled at him. Or perhaps it was fate. He found just the right angle to slide his hands from. Thirty seconds passed and he felt the rope begin to give way for one hand.
Five seconds later, the hand was still pushing its way through. Then, in one last push, one hand was out and the rope wrapped loosely around the second hand.
Azalea lay still for a moment, unable to believe what had happened. He had succeeded. Realizing once again what a waste it would be if Vanessa walked in right now and found him in that position, his heart jumped into his mouth and he got to work at once.
He slid his free hand into his back pocket. He felt the small powdery parcel and pulled it out. He brought it before his eyes and stared at it in disgust, as if he was seeing it for the first time.
He was looking at a deadly poison. Potassium cyanide was its name. A single dose of it was capable of killing whoever took it within a minute or less than that.
Azalea saw his whole life flash before his eyes as he thought about what he was about to do. Thinking back to the moment when the master had given it to him to use in the event that something like this happened, he had been positive that nothing like this would happen and that even if it did, he would be more than willing to take his life.
But now, he had a different opinion. Taking his life now was the toughest thing he had ever had to do.
Seeing no other way out, Azalea cut through the seal of the small parcel. Some of the white powdery substance poured over his face. He did not bother to wipe it away. Without thinking, he poured the rest of the contents into his mouth and forced himself to swallow the tasteless substance.
Then, he closed his eyes and waited for death to take him. The last thing he remembered was a sharp pain in his stomach and then, a blackout.