Suddenly, everything was happening.
The car door opened. Before Ellie had a chance to react, she felt a sharp pain. She looked to the right. A man in a balaclava had thrust a needle into her neck. The effect of the chloral hydrate hit Ellie’s system. She slumped forward.
The passenger door flung open. A second man reached in and unlocked the safety belt. Placing one arm behind Ellie’s back and the other beneath her knees, he skillfully pulled her over to the passenger side. He fixed her seatbelt and positioned her head against the window to make it look like she was sleeping. Then he got into the back seat.
The first man whipped off his balaclava and slid into the driver’s seat. The lights changed to green. He pushed the car into drive and released the handbrake.
The black BMW followed behind. Quentin sat in the back and watched nervously Ellie’s capture. Admiring their smooth synchronization, he snapped open his phone and spoke coldly.
“Extraction complete.”
THE END
* END OF BOOK THINGS *
The Dominant
Part Two * Book Two
Chapter 1
23 March 2017
Ellie Noor lifted her head groggily. The bag covering her head had robbed her sight completely. She focused hard to look through the bag, but the tightly packed weave made it impossible. She realized uncomfortably that most of her clothes had been removed. But, thankfully, her underwear still remained. Cold inspired by fear shuddered through her. Instinctively, she tried to move, to cover herself and preserve her modesty, but as she tried to pull her hand, it was as though a knife carved through her arm and she whimpered.
Why was she in pain?
Ellie moved her hips, as if to turn, and that slicing feeling caught her again. She swung back and forth, and waves of agony washed through her.
The cutting sensation didn’t appear when she didn’t move. Only when she tried to use her limbs did the hurt surface. She reasoned that it had to be something they’d given her. Maybe it was something affecting her muscles, forcing agony to prevent her movement.
Amongst the pain, Ellie felt metal around her wrists and ankles. Someone was set on her being as inanimate as possible.
Hooded, nearly naked and chained to a chair, overwhelming panic swept through her.
Despite her intractable situation, Ellie swallowed hard and forced herself to be calm. She breathed slowly and fell into the rhythm.
She was a managing director of a top EmTech business. She’d handled presentations and negotiations with many multibillion-dollar companies.
She never panicked once. She’d just got on and done what was needed.
But what did she rely on then?
Logic.
Common sense.
Understanding the environment and making her play.
Her thought processes had started to quell her panic.
She couldn’t see, but she could hear. Without sight, her listening naturally became more acute and Ellie attempted to define her surroundings according to what she could hear. She listened but couldn’t hear anything, just the sound of her own breathing.
Then, suddenly, footsteps approached. The footsteps were light. If the owner was a man, he wasn’t large, or else he’d been trained to push the weight off his tread like in stealth combat. The owner may even be a woman. Ellie sniffed the air for any scent, but apart from the sterile, chemical smell ingrained in the hood, she smelled nothing.
Her analytical mind took over, lessening her fear as she began to ‘see’ through her other senses.
Ellie sensed that it was a man. She couldn’t figure why she thought this. Maybe the way in which the person walked. Although light, the step still sounded manly.
She forgot she couldn’t move and made to turn to face her captor, but that sharp cutting feeling once again shot through her body. She inhaled sharply.
The footsteps stopped.
Arrival.
Ellie breathed out.
She tried again to focus, but her mind was cloudy and heavy like a great weight was upon it. She couldn’t remember anything. She couldn’t even remember her clothes being removed. That fact disturbed her. How could she not remember that?
Ellie was terrified. She was more terrified than she ever believed she was capable of feeling. In fact, the feeling of being terrified, so often spoken about by people that had been kidnapped, was a totally physical manifestation. Ellie’s brain frazzled with stimuli and backstory. What had already happened to her? What was going to happen to her? It was all conjecture. But such was its power, it could easily have sent Ellie into an absolute internal frenzy, a hysterical madness, as she waited for her captors to commence whatever they intended to do.
She didn’t have to wait long for her captors to get to work.
Sharp pain shot up her arm. A needle had been inserted. Ellie tried to turn her head but couldn’t. Again, she concentrated but whatever they’d given her was too quick and too powerful.
The room began to spin and slide. It was like she was very drunk. Ellie felt nauseous. She wanted to vomit but couldn’t move.
“We know you’re activated, but not in the same way as the nano-bomb. I wouldn’t be standing here if you were loaded.”
Someone gripped her hood and pulled it away.
A light came on, shattering her vision. Brilliant white everywhere, burning like a laser in her eyes. She desperately wanted to shut out the painful whiteness, but she couldn’t lift her arm. It was chained to the chair.
“Sam Noor’s your target, isn’t he?”
The words came from behind her. They sounded like the perpetrator was underneath water. Ellie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her husband was her target. What the hell was he talking about?
Ellie tried to turn, but sharp pain caught her. Whatever they’d given her was working at full strength. Any movement Ellie tried to make instantly caused her severe agony.
“I said, Sam Noor’s your target. We know all about it. No point in denying it.”
Ellie didn’t say anything. The whole idea that Sam was her target. It was insane.
The person whose footsteps Ellie had heard eventually came into her eye line.
Tall and gaunt, with blond hair and dark grey eyes of steel, he walked softly. He had a slightly effeminate element about him, which, somehow, made him more sinister. He tipped his head to the side and stared at Ellie, eyeing her body slowly. He reached in and placed a finger to her cheek. Ellie trembled.
“Hello, sweetie. Let’s see what you’re about.”
The interrogator walked around the chair Ellie was chained to. Ellie tried to follow him, but a sharp, jagged burning sensation cut like a lathe through her body. Ellie caught her breath. Her body ached. She breathed in and out in long gasps and struggled bravely to cope with the violent torment.
“Oh, now I wouldn’t move if I were you,” the interrogator sneered, as he watched Ellie grimace. “It could get very painful if you do. Just stay still, listen to me, and answer my questions.”
Ellie looked in front of her and not at the interrogator. This stance annoyed him and he pulled at her shoulder, forcing Ellie to face him. Ellie cried out as the quick twist brought a wave of agony within her muscles, and she held her breath as the deep, cutting hurt surged through her.
“That’s better. Now keep your face on me. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Ellie stared at him. His smirking, sly mouth and steel ice eyes did not reflect his words.
Defiance stormed within her.
She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of getting anything from her.
Somehow, the drug they’d given her had brought clarity. A fog lifted in her mind. Fear had been her enemy. But she wasn’t filled with fear now.
She was filled with hate.
Ellie glared at her interrogator and did not utter a word.
“We saw you talking in your kitchen yesterday morning. Bu
t no one was there. Who were you talking to?”
Ellie remained silent. Her eyes glazed over, and she ignored her interrogator.
“Did you know that Sam Noor was MI6 before yesterday?” he asked.
“Are you with Al Nadir?” the interviewer continued.
“We saw you scream. We know that was the initiation, wasn’t it?” The bland emotionless voice persisted.
“The Sleeping Assassin technology. We know all about it?”
Ellie, ignoring all questions, pulled frantically at her clamps. Pain cut through her mercilessly and her beautiful face mutated into a horrible grimace.
“Who is Sam Noor?”
“Who are you with?”
“Why did you scream?”
“Who were you talking to in your kitchen?”
The interrogator spoke pointedly. He wanted answers.
He stood in front of Ellie, and then dropped down. He grasped her legs and moved up, stroking her thighs. Ellie swallowed but forced herself to stay strong. He nudged up close so that Ellie could feel his breath on her stomach. She recoiled.
“Listen, darling, Guantanamo Bay is heartbeat away, and we all know how they’ll treat a pretty thing like you.”
Ellie flinched at the words, understanding the inference, but retained her silence.
The interrogator scowled, rose to his feet, and looked straight down at Ellie with impatience.
“I will continue to ask you questions all day and all night. I’ll be replaced with another person just like me. But we’re gonna keep you in that chair until you speak. No toilet breaks. No food. No water. No sleep. You will speak to me. Sooner or later, you’ll have to. So let’s avoid all this unnecessary stress and tell me what I want to know.”
The interrogator walked around, and then came in close to Ellie, sneering.
“Your friend, Rikard, fessed up just before he blew in Oslo. He told us everything. Keeping silent isn’t going to help you.”
Ellie stared ahead and said nothing.
Infuriated by Ellie’s silence, the interrogator continued with the same drill over and over. Ellie knew he wanted to break her, but his monosyllabic interrogation technique was having no effect on her at all. She sat silent, every so often pulling or trying to rise from the chair, only to be dissuaded by the painful cutting sensation that ravaged her body every time she moved.
Ellie was aware of time passing but she could not be sure how many hours she’d spent in the white room. Closing her eyes, she tried to block out the interrogator’s persistent, penetrating mantra. But his voice broke through, invading her place of solace.
“Oh, no you don’t! You’re not going to sleep,” said the interrogator sharply, and he shook Ellie awake. As he shook her, vibrations of pain cut into her body. Her head was splitting with a new headache, and nausea had returned full blast.
“Are you with…” The interrogator never had chance to finish his incessant questioning. Ellie interrupted, screaming:
“Oh! Go fuck yourself!”
Ellie’s somewhat ill-advised words of courage ejected from her shaking lips. She’d had enough of his boring bloody voice. She felt like shit. Her head was splitting and if she heard another word from the fucker’s lips, she’d puke.
Yes, it was a reckless thing to say. But sometimes Ellie spoke first and thought later. The droning, debilitating voice had pushed Ellie beyond caring. With her customary impulsiveness on overdrive, at that moment, caution was not in her vocabulary.
Hearing her words, and the only words she’d said in the entire interrogation session, the interrogator yanked her arm to the side. As he pulled, the chains dug deep into her wrist.
Ellie felt a sudden stabbing.
Yet another needle was driven with naked brutality into her skin.
Ellie winced and tried to look round. Her neck shook with pain by the simple movement. But she withstood it long enough to see, in her peripheral vision, the hands of the interrogator taking a blood sample.
Ellie broke into a sweat. Who the hell were these people? Why did they need her blood? Somehow, she had to get out, but her body from the head down was completely immobile. The drugs delivered total paralysis.
Imprisoned in her own body, she could do nothing.
The interrogator smiled at Ellie in a way that made her stomach flip, and the vicious whiteness of the room extinguished as the room was absorbed again into the dark.
READY TO CONTINUE THE RIDE?
Dear Reader
Ellie has found out her husband Sam works for MI6. After a diet of lies for ten years, Ellie agrees to stay, and although hurt by Sam’s betrayal, love keeps them together. Sam has discovered an upgrade to the nanobomb he stole from Al Nadir. Those responsible for Kinley’s death have been captured.
Are you ready for the next instalment?
Ellie has been abducted. Sam is in the States, unaware of her plight. Maide wants answers. How far will he go to find them? The quantum bomb has been stolen. What will President Treeborne do when he finds out? And what will be Salim’s next move?
If you enjoyed the first book in the series, you will love The Dominant. The action ratchets up as secrets unravel. The plotline will blast your mind and will have you reading all night. Get ready for the ride of your life.
Continue with the adventure
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A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR
The Trusted is part one – book one of a thriller series that is very special to me. The series has been born out of extraordinary experiences I’ve had around the world, throughout my career. My background in science, technology and innovation has given me incredible insight, and thus, the technologies explored throughout the series have their foundations in real science.
The aspect of energies, vibrations and what is reality has always intrigued me, and it was my desire to weave these into a high-octane spy story based in our current times. Maybe some of you reading this will have doubts about how metaphysical things have any place at all in a fast-moving spy novel, but as in my work, I tend to explore and push the envelope on the art of the possible.
I urge you to take a leap.
You may just love where you land.
Michelle Medhat
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
The name that has made this book a reality is Sam Medhat, my husband. He is my inspiration, and without him this book, and the series that follows, would never have been created. He is the one who list
ens to every word written. He is the one who endures my frustrations when I have writer’s block. He is the one who is constantly woken up by my unsuccessful attempts at creeping into bed in the wee small hours, after I’ve become lost in my writing world.
Without Sam, no writing would have happened.
Whilst writing this series, I lost my brother, father and mother. None of them lived to see this in print, however their love is embodied within the words, and I hope, somewhere, they can see the result of the faith they had in me to achieve.
I would like to thank my fabulous editor Ceri Savage, who has been with me on this journey, and who has been incredible in her support and advice.
Michelle Medhat
Copyright © 2019 Michelle Medhat. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.
eBook ISBN: 978-1-9993737-4-0
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