"No."<br/><br/>Such a simple word, right? Two letters forming a word understood by virtually everyone.<br/><br/>...Not even remotely.<br/><br/>Nicola wasn't sure how many times she'd told him "no." She'd lost count after the tenth call. For a man she'd never met, he was quite persistent, and not in a flattering sort of way.<br/><br/>Basilisk... What sort of name is that anyway? Reminded her of a snake...And he sounded about as 'smooth' as one. When he'd started initiating conversations, everything he'd said was compliment after compliment, weaving in a request or two every now and again. Each request was met by a "no".<br/><br/>As the call quantity increased, his patience seemed to decrease. She wasn't even sure how he'd found out what she could do, as it wasn't a fact she broadcast to the world...And here he was, wanting to exploit it. Some form of a job required her "expertise" as he worded it. Each time he called, his words became less patient, more harried.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="color: #BF0000">"Deadlines are looming. I need you, Nicola,"</span></span>he'd coo at her, his irritation growing with each passing word. Yet, she never gave in.<br/><br/>From what she'd gathered, it was getting down to the wire. His last call, unnerving as it had been, is what inspired her current trip. He'd threatened to take her, bring her by force into whatever it was he planned. He'd threatened what little family she had left, saying if she didn't comply even after he'd taken her, he'd pick them off.<br/><br/><span style="color: #0080FF">One.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #0040FF">By.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #0000FF">One.</span><br/><br/>"I'm not going to take it," she told herself. "Not anymore."<span style="font-style: italic">If he wants to take me, he'll have to find me.</span><br/><br/>She'd packed only the bare necessities, her ice pale gaze sweeping over her apartment one final time. A few pairs of clothes, a few pictures, and her passport. Already having canceled her known cards and bank accounts, she had her money safely transferred to a Cayman Island account. Anyone could have accounts there, accounts watched with the utmost care. That was all she needed.<br/><br/>Looking around her apartment one final time, saying a silent goodbye, she closed the door behind her, locking it and dropping her key into her bag. While she wouldn't be living there, at least for a while, she'd not broken the lease, and didn't intend to.<span style="font-style: italic">It'll be over soon enough,</span>she told herself.<span style="font-style: italic">I just have to hold out until this has all blown over.</span><br/><br/>Having hired a car to drive her, she left hers in the parking garage, having taken anything of importance out of it...Just in case, precaution and all that. Her light blonde hair gleaming in the light, it was held up and out of her face, a loose ponytail keeping it slightly neat in her haste. Bangs swept over her eyes, she kept brushing them aside, the irises of her eyes fairly disappearing in the brilliant sunlight. Pale skin seemed to glow as the rays beat down on her, skin smooth and unblemished as she ran for the town car. A simple pale blue dress adorned her slender, five-foot, five-inch tall frame, a strapless ensemble with a white shrug over her shoulders. Matching blue flats completed her look.<br/><br/>"Easy to get through airport security with," she'd told herself. "No metal, tight enough to see I'm not hiding anything, and comfortable."<br/><br/>Sliding into the backseat, her bag in the trunk, she closed the door, instructing the driver to bring her to the airport. With a curt nod, he responded, starting the engine and pulling away from the curb. One hand pressed to the window, her gaze stayed on her building until they'd turned a corner, the once comforting sight out of view. Her body slumped against the seat, head lulling back against the cushioned headrest, watching the scenery go by. She wasn't sure when she'd be back, but she prayed it'd be soon.<br/><br/>Feeling a sort of wary tiredness sinking in, her mind began to drift, her eyes drooping the longer the car remained going. Unsure how long they'd been moving, the sudden stop and sound of a car door brought her back around. Blinking her eyes to clear them, she paused.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Wait...</span>came a worried voice in her head.<span style="font-style: italic">This...This isn't right...</span><br/><br/>The air was heavy with the smell of garbage, her surroundings not that of an airport, but instead abandoned warehouses? Fear gripped her as she looked for her driver, who'd seemingly vanished from sight. Heart rate rising, the seat beneath her grew colder, stiffer, until she fought with the lock, water crystals forming on the window above her hand. Yanking it up, she pushed the door open, bag forgotten in the trunk as she scanned her surroundings.<br/><br/>Meanwhile, the driver had ducked behind a dumpster, phone in hand. A simple text was sent out, one that would reach Elija in roughly ten seconds.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000"><span style="font-style: italic">"The package has arrived."</span></span>