Love Condemned: Beginnings Read online

  "Just shut your mouth and get up." The man had a rough voice, probably from years of smoking too much followed by some cheap whiskey. Adrian slowly got up, tried to understand what had just happened. If this man wanted to rob him, why had he told him to walk down the hall with him?

  As they walked toward the end of the hall, Adrian saw the door to his room. It was not until they stopped in front of Miranda's room that panic set in. The man pushed the gun in his back and made him enter. After Adrian was inside, he noticed several other people, including the two blondes from the bus and an older couple that looked vaguely familiar. Adrian made his way into the room a little farther and his heart sank immediately. "Adrian!" Miranda exclaimed and tried to run to him. As soon as she took a few steps, one of the men had hit her so hard that she flew across the room to land on the bed.

  Adrian had not cared at that moment if the men shot him. "Miranda!" he yelled as he pushed his way past the men and made his way over to the bed. She still whirled from the hit; blood ran down her chin from the fresh cut on her lip. He did not know what else he could do except make sure that she was calm when she came back to reality. Adrian rubbed his hand up and down her back and coaxed her back to consciousness. When Miranda finally woke up, she gave him a look that clearly said that she did not know more than him.

  Miranda moved over to Adrian a bit closer, glad she didn't only have herself to make her feel safe. After a while, her lip stopped bleeding, but her head resumed to pound painfully the rest of the day. At one point, one of the kidnappers disappeared and came back with a big bowl of salad and some smaller bowls to eat from. Apparently they had decided the hostages were human too, and needed something to eat. Nobody ate that day.

  Hours had passed before anything happened. They sat quietly in the room with one man and Alice standing guard. Miranda was leaning against Adrian, with her head on his shoulder and his arm around her waist. He sat with his back against the headboard of the bed. Somehow, situations like these seemed to make it okay to be close to each other. Her body had finally relaxed a bit, thanks to Adrian's arm around her and her own mental exercises.

  An unknown man entered the room to speak with Alice and the man who had hit Miranda across the face earlier that day. He handed Alice a piece of paper. Alice passed it on to the man beside her without even a glance. The unknown man disappeared again while the other read the words on the paper nodding his approval. He scanned the room. Before he had even laid eyes on her, Miranda knew that whatever he was looking for he would find it in her.

  The grin that passed over his face sent a jolt of fear through her body. He grabbed her arm roughly and gave her no time to stand up for herself as he dragged her off the bed. Miranda landed on her knees, and only a few yards further she managed to get to her feet.

  "Out," he said roughly as he pushed her hard through the door opening. She bumped into the wall before he grabbed her upper arm again. Something inconvenient started bubbling up inside Miranda, resembling anger and frustration. The vicious grin on the man's face while he squeezed her arm made her frustration reach a climax, her hands turned to fists.

  "Dammit, I can walk by myself!" Miranda yelled at him. Her face was starting to turn red as she pulled her arm free with a huge effort. Immediately, she felt like she made a mistake doing that. She was ready for the blow that split open the fresh wound in her lip again. She didn't fall this time, but it didn't hurt any less. Wiping away the trickle of blood on her chin, she didn't protest any further when his hand closed around her arm in an iron grip.

  The man led her down the stairs and eventually they came to the reception area. With wide eyes, Miranda realized there was no staff here and the doors were barricaded with iron poles through the handles. As they rounded the corner, two men in men in black masks holding machine guns were guarding the door. This was worse than she could have imagined. It seemed like the hotel itself had become the hostage.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Twenty minutes later, Miranda and the tall Italian returned to room 23. He had no problems handling her any more. The blood had drained from Miranda's face and her hands were trembling. When she entered the room, she fixated on Adrian and crouched against him on the bed again. She knew he wanted to know what had happened, but she didn't dare utter a word with the Italian here. Her fingers were curled around Adrian's shirt, grasping the fabric as if it was the only thing she could hold on to.

  Living it up at the Hotel California... such a lovely place, sang the mock voice in her head. Unconsciously, Miranda covered her ears. Focus, Miranda. You can do this. Calm down. Control your breathing. Two of the men mumbled something in Italian and walked out the door. Slowly, she sat up straighter, staring in turn at the two remaining people with guns. Alice was standing by the window and the other, the man with the two guns, stood by the door. They didn't seem to care one bit what the hostages were doing, as long as they didn't approach the exit. Miranda subtly turned to Adrian and in hushed tones told him what had passed.

  "It's not just us, Adrian. The entire hotel had been shut down. All the doors and windows are locked, and more people have been taken hostage. Around fifty in total. And he made me call the police and read text off a piece of paper. They're the Red Brigades, or something.." she swallowed as she looked back and forth to ensure she was not drawing attention. She was not even close to the most horrifying part of the story. "Apparently, they were very active in the seventies and eighties. They wanted some kind of Marxist revolution then, and though everyone thought they had been exterminated in the eighties, a lot of them that fled to France" Miranda gestured toward Alice with her head, "and Spain. Now they have regrouped and found a new leader."

  The Red Brigades, or Brigate Rosse, had been a widely discussed topic during the Cold War, with their intense hatred of capitalists and the government of that time. Miranda didn't know much about them, but she read an article on the internet once. It said that they used to kill the major political pawns they thought stood in the way of the revolution. Miranda was very aware of the listening ears belonging to the rest of the hostages when she continued.

  "They are keeping us here for ransom. That was what they used to do, and they want to do it again. They have about fifty people here, and I had to say.. I had to warn the police that... that they would kill two hostages each day they fail to pay the ransom money."

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Adrian had a sick feeling in his stomach as they took Miranda away. A range of thoughts passed through his mind. He did not know what was going to happen to her. ‘If they hurt one hair on her head…..’ Adrian thought. But what could he really do without getting himself shot? After Miranda was through the door, only two people were left in the room to guard them, one being Alice. It appeared they did not want any interaction with their hostages because they kept their distance and did not look at them.

  For some reason, the other hostages all looked to Adrian and quietly asked him what they should do. How should he know! And why was he elected to be the leader of the pack? Adrian motioned for them all to be quiet. When he was sure that nobody was listening, he told them, “Look. We need to figure out who these people are and what they want. Just keep your eyes open and your mouths shut. And try to listen to what they say to each other.”

  Alice looked over his direction; he must have spoken too long. She continued to watch him carefully for a minute then she went back to the conversation with the man next to her and occasionally checked her radio. It seemed like a very long time before they brought Miranda back. She did not look good. Her face had lost all its color and a cold sweat was forming on her forehead. She went straight to him, grabbed his shirt and pulled herself as close to him as she could. Under any normal circumstance, he would have loved to have her do this. But right now, it was dangerous to show their connection but he wanted to make her feel safe.

  Miranda finally calmed down enough to tell him about the Red Brigade and that they were all being held hostage. Even more frightening was the c
omment that they would start to kill two people each day until their demands are met. Adrian could not help but wonder what these people plan to accomplish by taking hostages. Once again, everyone looked at Adrian for some sort of direction. He just nodded his head for them to continue as they have been. He had to buy some time to think of a plan. There had to be a way to get out of this. But he was not a hero. He could barely make it through college, how could he plan to stop terrorists?

  Adrian pulled Miranda closer. He did not care anymore about the connection, just wanted to be close to her and make her feel safe. He leaned down and kissed her gently on the top of the head and whispered, “Everything is going to be fine. I will get us out of here.” After he said that, he realized that he had made a promise that he would have to figure out how to keep.

  Miranda wasn't able to describe what Adrian's soothing words did with her, but it was a miracle she calmed down some more. Somehow she felt safe again. Her eyes closed when she felt him press a kiss on the top of her head. She suddenly wondered if this would have happened outside of the walls of this prison, in the free world. She stirred a little against him, realizing this was a very odd time to be thinking about it. She couldn't help but imagine where they would be in relation to each other when this was all over or if they both came out of it alive.

  The next several hours went on without much incident. The terrorists brought some jugs of water and something that resembled pizza for them to pass around. Adrian waited until he was sure everyone ate before he took anything. By the time it got to him, there was only one slice left. It did not bother him. He was young and strong and could do without if it meant others survived and remained calm. Miranda had taken up position next to Adrian, with her knees against her chest and her chin leaning on them. The threat of the kidnappers was slowly wearing off. She could almost pretend they weren't even there. Miranda stared at no particular point on the wall opposite the bed.

  In the corner of her eye, she saw the man approach. Her body went stiff from fear as the man reached down to grab her arm again. She was not ready to be ripped away from Adrian. She had just calmed down and wanted to close her eyes. The man yanked her to her feet, dragging her out the door. He was not in the mood for her resistance this time. Luckily for him, she did not have the energy to put up a fight.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Back at the reception, nothing had changed. The snipers were still in place, the double doors were still barricaded and there was no staff to be seen. Miranda's eyes went wide when she saw the array of police cars that stood in front of the hotel, all with their lights on. The swarms of police were running around from one side to the other, anxiously discussing the situation with each other. The man let go of her arm, dropping her into a chair. He pushed both the phone and a piece of paper in her hand. Miranda’s stomach churned at the thought of what she had to do next. She dialed the number on the sheet of paper with shaking hands and brought the phone to her ear.

  While she was reporting to the heavily accented police, Miranda had to pretend this was a scene in a horror movie not to faint or start crying. It isn't real, Miranda. Just read it. It has no meaning for you. You will be fine. And Adrian too. The voice of an officer said something in her ear, but his accent was unintelligible over the phone. "I can't understand you," said Miranda with a small voice, but the Italian next to her seemed to think she was up to something. He snatched the phone out of her hand and threw it on the machine. The man started to yell in a strong accent that Miranda was unable to understand. He grabbed her arm and dragged her back to the room.

  Miranda hardly felt the pressure on her bruised arm anymore. She tried not to think of what would happen next. Would they kill someone from her room? From another? Her insides twisted when the thought crossed her mind to pray it would not be her or Adrian. She knew the others had just as much right to live as them. With a hard push in her back, Miranda stumbled forward through the door opening. She rushed back to the bed where she sat down again next to Adrian, afraid to sit too close or to do something that might set the terrorists off. She concentrated on her breathing again. She had to remain calm and not show her fear. The Italian took the gun from his belt and pulled back the slide.

  "So," he grinned at the hostages, "who's ready to die?"

  The words cut through Adrian’s heart and made it hard for him to breathe. If Miranda was executed, he would not be able to live with himself. When the Italian man took the gun out and pointed it in turn at everyone, each person cringed and diverted their gaze. Adrian was the only one that stared directly into the killers face. The thoughts of Miranda getting hurt were still fresh in his mind, he stood up. “I am ready.”

  It took Miranda a moment to realize it was Adrian who said this. The wall she had been staring at was instantly forgotten, replaced by the face of the man who said he wanted to die. Before he could leave the bed, Miranda reached out and managed to get hold of the fabric of his jeans. He looked back at her, seeing the desperate look on her face. Why you, Adrian? Why are doing this? Please... stay. .

  Adrian nodded to her and stepped away, prepared to meet his fate. As they left the room, Alice grinned, knowing that he would be stupid enough to sacrifice himself. Young hostages in love are always the easiest to manipulate. They will do anything you ask of them because they are protecting the one that they love. Miranda could not move from the position she was sitting in for a while, only able to stare at the door through which Adrian had disappeared, listening intently for a gunshot of sorts, hoping it would never come

  Adrian was walked up to the front glass doors of the hotel and forced onto his knees. The men that stood next to the doors scrambled and talked fast in Italian. Adrian could not understand what was about to happen, but he knew that he was at the center of it. One of the men came into the room off to the side of the door. He carried a bucket, but Adrian could not see what was in it. One of the men positioned himself directly behind Adrian with an assault rifle pointed at his head. With a nod from the man that brought him in, one of the Italian men pulled down the curtains that blocked the glass. As the sun shined through, the man behind Adrian pulled the trigger with a loud bang. At the same time, the man with the bucket threw the contents all over the windows.

  It took a couple minutes for Adrian to regain consciousness. The concussion from the blank round had knocked him out. From what he gathered, his execution was staged, to put on a show for the police. They escorted Adrian away while the Italian man went back to Room 23. As he entered the room alone, the Italian man wiped his hands with a bloody cloth. “Who wants to be the second?”

  There was no stopping it. Miranda had lost control faster than she was able to realize. She hardly felt she had gotten to her feet, staring at the Italian. She leapt forward; hitting him everywhere she could manage until two others managed to pull her off him. "You killed him!" she screamed, beside herself in horror. "You murderer!"

  Restraining her this time proved to be more than they anticipated. Miranda was full of rage, lashing out with all that she had until a blow to the back of her head with the grip of a gun knocked her out. Alice shook her head wearily. "And she was such a good girl," she said with a sideways grin towards the man with the bloody cloth in his hands. "Take her away." The man picked her up as if she was nothing and threw her over his shoulder.

  "Not so willing to die this time, huh?" noted one of the snipers that stood at the reception. The Italian shook his head. "No. I will have to find a new contact person now." He dropped her on the ground and positioned himself so that the people outside could only see his silhouette standing next to the form of Miranda's limp body on the floor. He took his gun and aimed for the floor just beside her head before he pulled the trigger. The loud bang that reverberated through the room was not enough to wake Miranda up, and the Italian was glad for it. His entire charade would have been for nothing then.

  The man reached down and picked Miranda up by her neck and legs. He turned to one of his conspirators. "Get me a new cal
ler," he grunted before he walked away with the girl in his arms, paying no attention to the colorful headband that was left behind on the floor. The path he followed was a short one. Behind the counter of the reception, there were two doors. Next to one of them stood one of the terrorists who opened the door for him to walk through. It appeared to be some kind of laundry room, with no windows at all, high walls, and only one air duct to refresh the air in the room.

  "Seems like your girlfriend was eager to join you," the Italian grunted to Adrian who was sitting on the floor, still a little mind-blown by the events that had just passed. The man carelessly threw Miranda at his feet. "Have fun," were his last words before he left, and the key turned in the lock.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Adrian’s head still pounded when the door closed. He could barely focus his eyes enough to see a body that was thrown into the room at his feet. The ringing in his ears had not subsided, so he could not tell what the man said, only muffled sounds like he had talked into a pillow. When the door slammed shut, Adrian reached down to pick up the head of the body carelessly thrown on the hard linoleum floor. When he moved her hair from her face, he focused very hard and saw what he had both hoped and not hoped to see. Miranda. Just thankful that she was alive, he bent down closer to make sure she still breathed. All he could do now was try to make her comfortable until she woke up.

  The first thing Miranda became aware of was her cold arms on the hard white floor. For a moment, she was sure she must be dead. There was no way the terrorists would let her live after the way she acted against them when they killed Adrian.

  Oh Adrian, she cried inside.

  It wasn't long before she became aware of sounds around her. Her own breathing. A horrible, throbbing aching on the back of her head. A hand on her cheek. A hand on her cheek? Miranda had been afraid to open her eyes, but after these seconds of thought she took the chance. The hand on her cheek belonged to an arm, the arm belonged to a body, and the body belonged to... Adrian. Miranda stared in his eyes.