“A pleasure, Sergei,” Madeine replied, though it was a little dry as she noticed the glance at her form, especially her legs. She glanced over his shoulder, to the throngs of people exiting the dance studio. “I suggest we begin. We could draw a lot of attention by just standing here.” She didn’t add that it was<em> him</em>that would draw the attention. She was nothing more than an attractive woman in a blazer, skirt, and stockings, not a tattooed KGB agent.<br/><br/>He was one of Maksim’s goons, and having him along unnerved her slightly; not to the point where she felt nervous around him, but almost as if her employer didn’t trust her with the package. The mob boss had contacted her directly for the abduction, but insisted that he go along, which was something of an insult to her pride. As long as he did his job, however, she wasn’t going to make an issue of it. They needed the extra strength, after all, and he would be helpful if things became difficult.<br/><br/>Most of the cars had gone from the parking lot, most of them driven off by tired middle-class mothers toting one or more eager girls in tutus, though some were still making their way out of the building. It was the youngest, and last, practice that night. Mondays and Wednesdays ran until about seven with the children, with the intermediate class before, and Tuesdays and Thursdays went later with the oldest advanced dancers finishing the night off. Being that it was Wednesday, no one would be entering the studio after the class.<br/><br/>Madeleine had grown to appreciate the influence Madame Naumov had after casing both the studio and her apartment. The children that left the class with their mothers were certainly a handful outside, but inside, she worked with them while they were as disciplined as could be, almost as if they were mesmerized by her elegant form and movement. The intermediate class and advanced class, consisting of teens and young adults, were much more reserved, but held an intense focus when they left. The difference in attitude between child and young adult was amazing.<br/><br/>Slung over her shoulder was her handbag, made of leather and positively stuffed with various items they would need, including several hundred feet of rope and some ‘specialty’ items for the job. It was so full, in fact, that the sides actually bulged slightly.<br/><br/>“I think the back would be best,” she said right away. “Less eyes watching, darker, and more private. I’ll move my car when we are ready to move her, when the sun has gone down a little more. People might see it just sitting there for a while if I move it too soon.”<br/><br/>They made their way to the back alley as inconspicuously as possible, where the rear access door to the studio was. It was between two other offices in a small strip club on the edge of the suburbs. It was a nice enough neighborhood, and she had discovered the back door was usually kept unlocked during the day to allow for easy access to the dumpsters. She had Sergei open it, and sure enough, it swung right open. As she passed by him to step in first, Madeleine glanced at his hand as he grabbed his gun beneath his jacket, then looked at him warningly.<br/><br/>“Maksim wanted his wife back alive and intact, and leaving collateral damage behind is evidence that will make my job much harder…", she said quietly. "Guns are loud, and the last thing we want is attention. I suggest that if you intend on waving that around, you be very careful with who it’s pointed at, and that it doesn’t go off.”<br/><br/>She stepped into the back hall, walking carefully on the balls of her feet to avoid a loud click in her high heels, then motioned for Sergei to follow her when the way was clear. The layout was simple and small, which made sneaking in difficult with not a lot of places to hide. There was the main studio, wide open with hardwood floors and mirrored walls, a small front lobby with a coat closet and a bathroom, and the short back hallway with the Madame’s office and a small storage closet. She heard voices coming from the front of the studio, one of which was Madame Naumov’s spiced accent.<br/><br/>The office was unlocked, so she stepped in, then shut the door after Sergei followed, leaving the lights off. Her typical routine, Madeleine observed, seemed to be to lock up and tidy things up before coming back to change, and she would never expect them to be waiting right in her office. She’d be all alone. They would keep her nice and quiet until it got later, then move her. Sergei had a plan for covering their tracks.<br/><br/>“Alright Sergei,” she purred softly in the dark lighting, unzipping her hand bag to pull out a bundle of rope, working the knot loose with her long fingernails. “When Madame Naumov enters, you need to keep her absolutely silent until I can gag her, but I need to tie her arms first.” She raised an eyebrow. “And I don’t have to remind you that she’s an accomplished dancer; I’m sure she’s quite flexible. Once I have her fully bound, she will be harmless enough, but until then, be careful.”<br/>