2010-09-06: New Target




September 6, 2010




“To be sure of hitting the target, shoot first, and call whatever you hit the target”

Ashleigh Brilliant

48 Hours Ago

"I'm going to need to be reoutfitted." In more ways than one. "I've been in these clothes for nearly twenty-four hours."


It's been 72 hours since Victory put on that set of clothing, 48 since her declaration of a desire for a new set. She hasn't received them. Strapped by the wrists, ankles, and chest in a tall backed wooden chair, one might lean toward the assumption that she's about to be electrocuted. No so.

Her eyes are kept open and pointed toward a flashing screen by tiny metal bars. They don't pierce the skin, but they can be rather uncomfortable when there's no rest to be had. She hasn't had any.

Pacing in front of her is a tall man with dark curly hair, his disposition isn't angry or kind, it's detached, bored, but bordering on listless.

"Tell me again how you managed to failed to capture the Kruger woman?"

Victory is hard to crack, but then her training makes her that way. Although, to say she's annoyed by this song and dance is nothing short of an understatement. "You son of a bitch," she states plainly. "I told you this already!" her tone is even, albeit openly annoyed and aggressive, "That agent. That CIA-prick who tried to get into my head found her first. And she wanted to go with him!"

"I tried to acquire the target. ONE failure. ONE. How many other jobs have I pulled off! I am more useful than all of your other agents times ten and you know it," she hisses, those bars burning an image into her brain.

A sharp glance is turned toward the woman and two green eyes narrow dangerously. "Language… VIctory, my sweet." As he speaks, a button is pressed and a strong current rips through the woman's body for a count of one second. "You know I don't appreciate when you speak to me without the highest level of respect."

He already has is back turned before the current is shut off, the button on a wire is laid carefully on a cloth covered tray while be picks at a few different instruments. Ones that Victory has been subjected to before. The nasty ones. His pets. "Tell me again, the way I wish to hear it. How did you manage to fail in capturing the Kruger woman?"

Every muscle in Victory's body tenses, even muscles she was unaware she had. Her lips twitch and her eyes fight against the restraint keeping them open. But it does it's work. There's a change not only in her tension however, once the current has passed, something changes in her brain; almost like a reboot button. Her lips curl into a nearly involuntary smile. Whether the actress persona takes over or there's an actual change, it's impossible to tell, but whatever the current was supposed to do has its effect.

The smile edges on flirtation and the tone itself changes. "An agent was there — I followed them. I shot him in the kevlar… we sparred. But she wanted to go with him. She shattered bottles. I'd lost my shoes in the pool after I'd pursued them." Her open eyes flicker towards him, "It was an oversight and won't happen again."

Smiling now, Gyorgy puts down the tool and picks up the button again. Long strides take him to the chair and he leans down, "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" His lips are barely an inch away from hers and she can smell the wine on his breath as it caresses her with every word.

His eyes flick over her before he gives her a fond smile and leans down further, closing the distance between them. As his lips press against hers, the button is pushed, sending a current through the both of him until he breaks away and releases it. "Now that, my love, was simply electric." His smile is dashing and he gives her a quick wink as to suggest something further.

"I have a new assignment for you, this one won't be as difficult. Don't worry, my pet, I don't blame you for losing the Kruger woman. You just need to be more careful next time." His hand comes down to caress the side of her dirty face and cup her cheek as he looks down on her. Like a kind master to a disobedient servant, he is glorious in his forgiveness. "What would I do without you? I would die."

She basks in the scent of wine on his breath, it smells familiar aroma languid along her senses. Even with forced-open eyes, she relishes in the kiss, affectionate in its reciprocation even with the current passing through her body. Victory's own lips curl into a sly still-flirtatious smile, a perfect reversal of her manner before the first the first shock. "I'm at your beckoning… in all ways." Her head tilts as much as it can against the tall wooden back of the old-looking chair.

"What's the assignment, love? Murder? Extortion? Manipulation?" A single eyebrow arches at him with intrigue, even as her eyes water underneath the duress of having to remain open for so long.

A little groan of pleasure is released from his throat as she asks him about the assignment and he practically leaps on her. His hands bearing down on her shoulders in a firm grip as he stares into those pried open eyes with an alarming smile. "A little of all of that…" His provocative growl is a hint toward his delight in her new attitude. "…If you play your cards right."

Then he's released her again and begins methodically pulling the little bars from her eyes and unstrapping her from the chair. "The Kruger woman has a man, who has a little daughter that lives right here in Europe. I would love you forever if you brought her to me. Since the other woman is well out of our reach, we can use the girl's father to get her for us…. Then? We trade."

Her eyes blink with relief as the bars are removed like a swimmer gasping for first breath after extending himself too long. But as the restraints are removed, it's Victory's turn to leap on him. Her hands caress his cheeks as she presses him against a wall, her lips seeking out any patch of skin she can find, starting along his jawline and down his neck towards his adams apple.

When she speaks, it's against his skin in a raspy whisper, the hours of torture long forgotten, "I could take her." Literally. "Address, change of clothes, a new wig, and I'll be ready…" she leans away from him "…unless you have… more urgent needs…" With a flash of teeth her lips quirk into a smile.

"Focus, pet, bring me the girl and I promise I'll reward you." Gyorgy emits with a rather bored tone. His hands reach up to grasp hers and bringthem down to their sides gently. She could force herself on him, they both know it, she's definitely the stronger of the two but patience and training have paid off well when it came to Victory Ames.

With her freed from restraint, it seems his interest in her has waned, visibly. Once he's guided her off of his person, he leads her to the stone staircase that escapes the dungeon. "Go, make yourself pretty for me. You'll find the dossier and everything you need about Alexis Martin. You have five days."

The focus returns to her face as she issues him a nod, her hands drop to her side. He's harnessed the hurricane of force that is Victory Ames. She takes a step back and then issues him a nod before turning on her heel back towards the basement. "As you wish." Her steps carry her to the door before she peers over her shoulder, "I only need one day." She smirks before disappearing through the entrance.