Cliff Ryder - The Finish Line

"Give me that!" Maggie grabbed for the paper, which rose out of reach as the man held it above his head. She sighed. "It would seem you have me neatly trapped."

"Well, you did elude us for almost an entire day — that is not something that many people can claim."

"You'll excuse me if I don't consider that to be a point of pride."

He shrugged. "You may take it as you wish. However, I can assure you that you would have been caught sooner or later — it was only a matter of time."

"Says you. I hope you don't expect me to be very sociable for the remainder of the trip," Maggie said.

Her comment provoked another eloquent roll of his shoulders. "The journey can be as pleasant — or as unpleasant — as you wish."

"It's very unpleasant already, thanks to the company."

"Alas, that I cannot change for you. Perhaps you might feel better if you were to eat something? You must be famished after all that running around last night."

Although Maggie wanted to say that she was just fine, her stomach rumbled loudly at the mention of food. "Sure, why not? Maybe I'll just get drunk instead."

"I would hope you might refrain. It would demean us both." He stood and offered her his hand. "If I may?"

She glared at him and pushed herself out the chair, grabbing her laptop case and slinging it over her shoulder. "And you can save the gallant act — you're nothing but a hired thug."

Although he let her walk ahead of him, he slipped a hand on her elbow, squeezing hard enough to let her know that any resistance would be punished. "My dear, it is you who are the criminal here. After all, you were the one who did not deliver what we had hired you to acquire."

"There wouldn't have been any problem if your company had not suddenly gotten cold feet about its reimbursement clause for expenses, which were higher than we had initially expected. But when we invoked the percentage-overage clause, suddenly you folks stopped returning our calls and sent out hired guns to kill us and anyone else who got in the way, conveniently avoiding paying us the second half of our fee, as well," Maggie said.

"I have no knowledge of how my superiors intended to recover what was ours. As for the terms of your employment contract, that is something you would have to take up with our contract attorneys. But you did sign our agreement, so I can only assume that you read it first."

"Yes, all seventy-seven pages of legal jargon. One wonders how clients in other nations fare when you hold them over a barrel."

"Unlike you and your brother, they usually have excellent lawyers on retainer to handle contracts like these. Once you are finished in our employ, I suggest that you avail yourself of a similar firm next time."

"Yeah, that's exactly what someone in my line of work can do — just walk into an old-money law firm and demand representation."

He shook his head in mock disapproval. "You of all people should know money can buy anything."

As they walked, Maggie looked at the various passengers they passed, hoping to find someone who might be able to help her. Well-dressed couples chatted and gazed out at the English countryside as it blurred past. A smartly dressed conductor passed by, and for a moment Maggie thought about accosting him, but a painful squeeze on her arm nixed that idea, almost as if her warden knew what she was thinking.

She huffed in exasperation. "At the very least, you could tell me your name, so I don't think of you as Mr. Asshole all the time."

"Fair enough. You may call me Carlos."

"Spanish? I thought you were from Greece."

"I have traveled all over the world, as I expect you have, as well."

"Here and there," Maggie said.

They walked into the dining car, where a large crowd of travelers clustered around a buffet table laden with steaming trays of food. The smell made Maggie's mouth water, and she suddenly realized just how hungry she was, in spite of her circumstances. No choice, so I might as well eat while I can — who knows when I'll get the chance again.

She got in line and picked up a tray, plate and silverware, resisting the urge to whirl around and bash her captor in the head with it. The buffet ran to salad, pasta and what looked like chicken and beef dishes, so Maggie loaded up on the carbs while waiting for the elderly couple ahead of her to progress. All the while her mind created and discarded escape plans. Stab him in the eye with a salad fork and run for it? Hope he's allergic to the antipasto salad? Fake an epileptic fit myself? That last idea she held on to — it wouldn't be pretty, but would be an effective distraction at least. What she'd do after that, however, she had no idea. She didn't know if there were any medical personnel on board, and while she could hope for a doctor, if there wasn't one, she'd have to shake and tremble all the way to Paris.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the gentleman ahead of her. "Lucille, don't forget your purse — we don't want to lose your medications at the start of the trip."

"Thank you, Joseph, why don't you just hand it to me — whoops!"

As soon as she had heard the word "medications," Maggie had waited for the right moment, then lurched forward, her plate smacking into the overstuffed purse to send it and its contents flying. "Oh. I'm so sorry! Here, let me help you with those." She bustled around on her hands and knees, picking up containers and shoving them back into the woman's trembling hands, which caused her to drop them all over again, delaying everyone even more. Maggie knelt to pick them up again, using the confusion to slip a bottle into the waistband of her skirt. She picked up the rest of the woman's belongings, and loaded them into the voluminous bag, apologizing loudly all the while. The couple thanked her, then shuffled off to their table, while a server came out to clean up Maggie's overturned plate of food on the carpet.

Her mission done, Maggie turned to get another plate and go back to her seat, but was stopped by Carlos, who held out his hand. "Give it to me."

"What are you talking about?"

"The pill bottle you took off the old woman. I want it right now."

Maggie jabbed him in the breastbone with her finger. "All I did was help an old lady pick up her medicines…"

Carlos's hand shot out like a cobra to latch on to her wrist, firmly moving her to one side of the car, out of the buffet line. "Don't lie to me. I saw you slip the bottle under your shirt. Now either hand it over, or else I take you into the restroom and search you myself."

"You even try, and I'll scream my head off."

"You forget, I have my own sedatives. You'd be out in seconds, just another hysterical female traveler in the tunnel." Still gripping her wrist with his left hand, he held out his right. "Hand it over."

Her lips pursed in anger, Maggie's shoulders slumped. "All right." She reached down to her waist and plucked the small bottle from her waistband, thrusting it at him. "Here."

He took it out of her hand and examined the label. "Valium. And what, I wonder, were you planning to do with this?"

"Since shoving them up your ass isn't an option, I think you have a pretty good idea where they would have gone," Maggie said.

"Of course." Carlos flagged down a server and gave him the bottle, explaining that they should be returned to the old couple eating at the far end of the car.

Maggie crossed her arms to keep from trembling with fear and anger. "Your kindness knows no bounds."

He ignored her jibe. "I wish you hadn't tried such a desperate ploy. Now I may have to restrain you. Come on, let's eat before everything is gone."

She simply nodded, and they got back in line again. Once they had full plates and found two empty seats, Maggie stood up again. "I'd like to get some Parmesan cheese from the table, and I promise I won't do anything foolish."