To lure the big boys of USA's most wanted underworld wrestler syndicate to UK with my own life as the gamble.
I have all the local help and advice I needed but it was tough acting on the sly. The big boys seem to know just about our every move and decision. Our only triumph was a little secret town underground, which we seek refuge when things get too dirty.
It was an Indian town. With campfires and dried straws. It wasn't comfortable, but it was safe. We used the town to devise strategies, design invitations, and engage in some good company entertainment.
Everything was going according to our plan and we were just awaiting the right time to come. One chilly night, I climbed up the steep wooden planks to finally breathe fresh Earth and sea.
Here I am. A woman all by herself, in the lands of the enemies, no less. Working hand in hand with the enemies against men of her own country, who're coincidentally trying to get their hands on her. It doesn't make sense. But then again, nothing does.
Stifled footsteps woke me to my senses. I glanced quickly. There were movements. I dodged back under the hidden table, lifted the patch of grass, and within seconds was back in the hidden world, heart thumping wildly.
The world was swirling before my eyes. Everything was a blurry blend of everything. Thunder struck, and it began to pour. Heavier and heavier the water fell. On my forehead, dribbling down my cheeks to my chin, falling on my chest, soaking my loosely buttoned shirt and soaking my entire being. I was desperately flailing my arms, alone, in the ocean, once again.
Something thick and heavy hit me on the back of my head. I was losing consciousness. I felt myself being pushed into a package. Everything turned dark.
The storm calmed and I was floating along slowly.
A voice shouted, "Look, someone's out there!"
A group of men came to retrieve me from the waters. "Who could have done such a thing?"
They opened the seal of the package and I tumbled out, a little boy about the age of 8.