Wake Up Somewhere Else

Slowly, something like consciousness returns. It’s still hard to open your eyes, but you’re gradually becoming aware of your surroundings again. You hear the dull, muffled roar of an airplane turbine and, through still groggy eyelids, barely open, you can see daylight streaming in to the cabin of a small private jet. You’re restrained, strapped in to a seat with red leather straps, and there is a gas mask strapped to your face. You’re dimly aware of the sound of some mixture of gas and oxygen streaming into the mask, but whatever your kidnappers are using now, it’s totally odorless.

As you wake up a little more, you realize that you’re totally naked. Aside from the leather straps and the gas mask, you are sitting nude on a very comfortable upholstered seat. Cautiously, you open your eyes a little wider, scanning the cabin of the plane. You’re alone, the only passenger on the flight. From the cockpit of the jet, you can hear a pair of male voices speaking.

“. . . was almost too easy. For a superheroine, she didn’t put up much of a fight,” says the first voice, deep and gravely.

“What do you expect?” answers the other, this one sounding almost reedy, “These super-sluts think they’re untouchable the minute they take off their masks. But it’s like dominoes, right? You knock over the first one and all the rest go in a line.”

That doesn’t sound good at all. They must have already captured at least one of your friends. You can’t imagine any of them would have given up your secret identity willingly; for one thing, only a few of them even know it. Although this does explain how you were captured. You keep listening.

The two men laugh, and then the first speaks again, “Yeah, but the one we got back there now . . . Sparrowhawk? She’s kicked my ass before when I was working for Her Majesty. But this time, POW, she just went right down.”

‘Her Majesty’ has got to be a reference to The Red Queen, an evil sorceress that has challenged the entire combined Justice **** before. She has a legion of fanatically loyal minions; mostly normal Pawns, typical armored goons with guns, but also more powerful agents that she grants different abilities with her magic. **** isn’t really her style, though; you wonder why she wants you.

“This alliance has got it’s benefits,” his companion answers, “I never really understood any of Red Queen’s magical stuff. But the anaesthetic gas we’re pumping her full of right now? That makes sense to me.”

Your eyes widen. You were so caught up in listening in on their conversation, trying to figure out what is going on, that you had almost forgotten about the gas mask on your face. The controlled breathing techniques that you learned as a part of your martial arts training are almost instinctive and must be the reason you managed to wake up. But you’re not sure how much longer you’ll stay awake with the mysterious gas pumping into your lungs.

They both laugh again. The second one starts talking first this time, “Do you know who’s next on our list? Red Queen’s already got quite a few of them, right?”

If you could find out who the Red Queen is working with, or who she’s targeting next you might be better prepared to fight her. But maybe it would be best to escape from your restraints first and then interrogate the two minions once you had subdued them. Or . . . and you hate that you’re even thinking this, it would be just as easy to take a deep breath and close your eyes again. You’re starting to feel a little sleepy already and they clearly want you alive. Maybe you could just let the gas do its work and worry about escaping once you arrive at your destination.